#i wonder if this is a common phenomena

[artemisiavulgaris1114]

haha I WAS gonna play rogue trader but I went back into my durgetash hidey hole and started a new bg3 run instead 8D

[greatrunner]

(An expansion of a previous post.)

As I've gotten older, it's become easier and easier to spot when someone is writing fanfiction with an informed perspective on the character and the media they're watching, and when they're writing fanfiction to use the character as a mouthpiece for their personal opinions, grudges, or agendas.

Unfortunately, more often than not, I've come across the latter and not the former.

[space-australia-stories]

A human explaining the joke of “space Australia” and how everything in Australia wants to kill you.

The ship had just finished a routine resupply, and with it, came the shuffling of many crew members. Some were taking leave, some were being reassigned, some were coming, some were going.

Qithar was not up for reassignment, and so went on with his normal duties, as old crewmembers left new faces took their places. This particular ship was relatively diverse - hosting crew from many different species, including humans, who had only recently joined the Federation.

Qithar was only just starting to understand their strange behavior. They were far-and-above the most outgoing species he’d ever encountered, and they integrated into most crews with little to no hassle. But once you started learning of their home planet, called “Earth” and how the humans lived, they suddenly didn’t seem so friendly.

It was common for humans to live in places with climates or regularly occurring natural phenomena that would render them inhabitable to Qithar’s own species, not to mention the other lifeforms that inhabited their planet.

As he was completing an inspection in the cargo bay, Qithar overheard several of his human crewmates conversing and laughing. From the conversation, one of them appeared to be telling some newcomers about life on the ship and other species they may see aboard.

“I think it’s sort of easy to forget that humans and our way of life aren’t the norm out here,” the seasoned crewmember was saying. “I think a lot of non-humans think we’re crazy, or insanely resilient.”

The others laughed. “How so?” one of them asked.

The first crewmate hummed. “Well, there was that one time we had a spider infestation in the kitchen. Weird space spiders with like, twenty legs and one really long, goofy-looking antenna. They were like, maybe the size of a housefly, and pretty harmless, all things considered, but all the non-humans were deathly afraid of them for some reason.”

Qithar remembered the infestation. He had been nearly brought to hysterics when he found one crawling on his morning rations. The ship had never had a pest infestation before. What if they carried some unknown disease? Just one bite, and the ship could say goodbye to all of it’s living crew. He remembered being horrified at the human’s reactions.

The human crewmembers had offered to study the spiders (for science) and then dispose of them, since everyone else seemed so reluctant. At the end of the study, they explained their conclusions so nonchalantly, to the horrified reactions of everyone else. Apparently, the spiders were relatively harmless, though they did bite (using their strange antenna), and could feed off blood or other bodily fluids from many different species. The humans explained that the only side effects were small itchy bumps, causing temporary discomfort.

It didn’t stop the rest of the crewmembers from being cautious. Really, it made them question the sanity of the humans on board. Why would they deliberately get close to something that feeds on your blood, and wounds you in the process?

Qithar remembers the humans laughing, and one of them saying that there were bigger and meaner ones in “Australia” (where ever that is). He figured it was another human-occupied planet, and vowed never to go there.

Pulled out of his thoughts, Qithar noticed the human crewmember was finishing his story. “If you think about it, to everyone else, Earth is to the rest of the Federation what Australia is to us.”

“Space Australia,” laughed another crewmember.

“Exactly!”

This marks the second time Qithar had heard of this planet. In morbid fascination, he wondered what horrors might exist on this “Australia” that would make humans consider it dangerous. Seeing as there were several humans right there, he felt inclined to ask, if only so his nightmares didn’t come up with something worse.

“Excuse me,” he called to them, catching their attention. “I’ve heard it mentioned before, but what is this ‘Australia’ that you’re talking about?”

The first crew member smiled at him, in that uniquely human way. “Oh, it’s just a little joke we like to share,” he explained. “Australia is a continent on Earth with the stereotype of having lots of really deadly creatures that always seem like their out to get you. From experience, most non-humans view Earth that same way.” He shrugged. “Hence the joke that Earth is Space Australia.”

“There are things on Australia that try to kill you?” Qithar asked, latching onto those words.

“Eh, not directly. They’re just animals defending themselves, and humans are the ones getting all up in their business anyways.”

“You mean humans actually go to Australia? Knowing the dangers?”

The human crewmates all shared an amused look, the first one with a look on his face that said ‘See?’

“Yeah,” he replied. “People live there permanently. It’s actually pretty populated.”

Qithar could feel himself getting lightheaded at just the thought. Actual people living in a place that so frequently tried to harm its inhabitants that they’ve made a joke about it. He thought the rest of Earth was terrifying.

“Thank you,” he managed to croak weakly. He turned away from the humans and went back to his work, but he couldn’t get the conversation out of his head.

That night, he dreamt he was chased by a massive space spider, with twenty legs and a long antenna, and prayed he would never be reassigned to Earth.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Nobody's Here

You ever have an imaginary friend? How about someone else's?

Every kid gets 'um. They're hardly strange or new. But the thing is? You're supposed to grow OUT of them. As you develop real connections to actual entities. It's dangerous not too. Yeah, it still happens, but any instructor worth their salt is trained to catch it. See the symptoms and signs.

Cause, see, when you have MAGIC?

Imaginary friends?

Becomes a parasite.

They don't MEAN too, obviously. Usually. They just want to LOVE their friends. Stay with them. Exsist. And really, who would WANT to die? WANT to stop existing? The problem, though, is the kids themselves. Their untrained, unintentional, focus and feeding. Their giving an IDEA? Life.

It's not malicious. They just PRETEND. Play. Focus all their little hearts on this TOTALLY REAL friend of theirs. And their magic? Metaphorically shrugs, agrees to go along with it, and tries to make it SO. Make that concept, that illusion, a real sentient being. Who, of course , is their friend.

Their BEST friend. Family! Someone who will NEVER leave them. Always prioritize THEM. Enable THEM.

Not healthy in the slightest, to put it mildly. A child's CONCEPT of what they THINK they want. That quickly becomes far, far too much to handle. That does not GROW with them. No. It drains them instead. Siphoning away their magic until there's nothing left. Killing them both.

If you can seperate them? The Friends can USUALLY become some sort of Spirit, if you send them off to a magic rich environment to finish growing properly. Sooner the better. The longer you wait, the more twisted they become, after all. They never become STRONG spirits, mind you. But that's not the point. Protecting both child and their unintentional creation is.

Now, you may be wondering, why the lecture? It's a fascinating bit of magical trivia. Some early childhood's training pitfalls to look out for, perhaps? Is this about why there are so many minor spirits around schools? What, exactly, brought this UP?

Nobody.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

"Love you~☆"

[taniahylian]

Who is Bessmert

So, I bet all of us have wondered, since the "Notes on Shouri" event trrailer was announced, who exactly is Bessmert. After all, being an important character, but not playable, and with a very mysterious past and abilities, Bessmert is quite intriguing indeed. And now I'm gonna tell you who I think she is.

Fair warning though, this is a bit long, but I promise it's worth the read, so please stick with me until the end!

Let's start with the most basic evidence: Her appearence. She's tall, has grey hair, dresses in a typical exlorer garment with a big black coat over it, and has her eyes covered with a white cloth. But, most importantly, she looks quite similar to Vertin, and that's just where the similarities start.

Their accents are pretty much the same, as well as the calm way in which they talk most of the time, and they are very smooth talkers; able to convince people of almost anything.

Bessmert's team seems to be aware of this as well, since Krolik even requests she doesn't speak before they vote about going back, no doubt fearing she'll convince them to keep going.

Later on we also see her use this ability to convince Getian to help them solve the Lushu situation instead of running away, similar to what Vertin has done with Druvis and Jessica, for example.

Now, aside from this almost supernatural manner of speach, Bessmert is also similar to Vertin when it comes to her arcane abilities; she also doesn't fight directly, but is able to sense arcanum in various ocassions, something we've only seen Vertin do in canon, and that other characters have remarked how rare of an ability it is.

However, unlike Vertin, she can sense even more than just arcane skills, like nature-related phenomena, the environment around her, and even the intent behind other people's actions. To the point that she's able to walk around freely without having her sight.

I believe this might be because Bessmert is an adult, more experienced arcanist, but also because her blindness might amplify her abilities, since she uses it to make up for her lack of sight.

Although of course here there's the issue if she's even an arcanist at all... or perhaps something else entirely.

Getian tells her, as they are waiting for the miracle of "Ask and acquire", that the pattern he saw in her bones is unlike anything he's ever seen and, therefore, he can't read them. He also said tit unnerved him to the point of wanting to run away. This makes me think that Bessmert might be especial in some way, perhaps in the same way Vertin is; being immune to the storm, and there is evidence for this, surprisingly.

First of all; most of the places we know about that are a "safe zone" to the storm have one common feature; a fog or something that makes people hallucinate, get exited and/or pass out. These features are all present in Vertin's suitcase, the Uluru stadium and the Aperion cave. Not only that, but we can assume the agent responsible for this effect is Asymetric Nucleide R, a compound that is also found on the Manus masks and on the storm raindrops.

Why is this relevent to Bessmert? Well, it seems like Pei City is actually surrounded by the same kind of fog as that in Aperion and Vertin's suitcase, and the origin of it is the temple where people used to go for the Divination.

Now, Bessmert acts surprised when hearing this explanations from Jiu, and we can especulate that it's because she has been to one of such places before, but regardless, we know she and her team encountered such fog before arriving to Pei City.

After following the direction Yenisei's skill tells them has the strongest arcane energy in the area, they arrive to a place where everything suddenly changes; it's different, odd, surrounded by a weird fog and, most importantly, makes them very tired to the point of almost passing out.

However, Bessmert remains unaffected by it all. She especulates it might be because she's used to high altitudes, but they're going downhill, so I doubt that's the case. Plus, even when we see Yenisei's vision getting cloudy and that she almost can't go on anymore, Bessmert remains compleatly unaffected.

This is all reminiscent of Vertin being compleatly unaffected in the suitcase's spinning wheel area, the Aperion cave and the Uluru Stadium, while others pass out pretty quickly, and it leads me to think that Bessmert, very likely, is also immune to the storm.

And there's one last piece of evidence here: Bessmert's name, which in Russian means "Without Death" or "Immortal", and likely has something to do with her ability to survive even the ends of multiple eras. Although I also think this isn't her real name for two reasons: firstly it'd be far too convinient, and also she's very likely not Russian, but Britlish. Why? Because every other Russian character has a Russian accent, while Bessmert's accent is distinctively British.

So what does all this evidence point towards? I think we all know the answer, right? Bessmert is, very likely, Vertin's mother, or at the very least related to Vertin in some way. But considering Vertin is searching for her mother since the beginning of the prologue, and all we know about that woman is that she's "special" (Constantine's words) and the Foundation tried to cover up her existance, this mysterious woman with a lot of characteristics similar to Vertin's seems like the prime candidate.

But that's not all. I'm about to tell u some other theories about who Bessmert is that, although might not be as impressive as being Vertin's mom, are also interesting.

First: She's Urd. Yes, the explorer that went to Aperion and then wrote a travel note about it. First of all because it really seems something that Bessmert would do; travel to a remote island in search of a mysterious cave that grants answers (like Ask and Acquire). But also because Urd is very likely a pseudonym, since Urd is a type of *bean* from Asia.

And finally... Notes on Shouri isn't Bessmert's debut on the R1999 events. In fact, she appeared at the start of the very first event; The theft of the rimet cup.

In case you need a refresher, the event starts up with the newspaper boy trying to sell a newspaper to a "lady in black", who then turns around and the boy notices she's blind.

At this point, the lady asks him to read the news for her, promising to pay for it, which he obliges. Now, we never see her face, but we hear her voice, and it's eerily similar to Bessmert's.

Not only that, but that same voice finishes up the event, apparently dictating an article about the events we see unfold thoughout the story for the UTTU magazine.

Now, of course Pandora Wilson is the main editor of UTTU, but I wouldn't be surprised if Bessmert sometimes wrote articles for it as well, since she's so knowledgable about arcanists, and has traveled all over the world.

So yeah, I believe Bessmert is this mysterious voice in the rimet cup event as well.

But what do you think? Am I overthinking about this one npc way too much? XD. Let me know in the comments!

[m3lin03]

Shape of the unknown - Epilogue

a/n: Hello, hello! If the people want something they should get it. This is me procrastinating on Razor's grip and my exams. Hope you'll enjoy it! kisses💕(not rlly proofread btw, it's 2 am and if I don't post now idk if I'll get the time later)

characters: Sylus, non!mc, mc

summary: Sometimes the universe gives, not only takes from you.

word count: 1268

tw: i don't think there's anything worth mentioning

The world died and was born again thousands of times. Stars burn themselves to exhaustion and give birth to others. The blood that fed the soil that day was erased by flowers, fire, then disappeared only to form something else. This was the way the universe worked – death and rebirth, endlessly.

That’s how two lines of destiny cross again, one night during a rain of stars.

The Inara Island got its name from being the best place to watch astronomical phenomena be it an eclipse, or a star fall. It was a private estate, away from the eyes of everyone that was deemed unworthy of such ethereal place. Today was different though, as the auction took place exactly when the Perseids could be seen in their perfect entirety.

Sylus walked down the hall in a dark red velvet suit, pearls and silver stars sewn into it. His shirt was dark like the night sky and on his arm the relentless huntress of the Association.

The people gathered here were nothing special, enjoying a chance that maybe will never come again, hoping to settle important business or rip off others, causing bankruptcy or life debts. Everyone had some kind of perverse reason to being here. Even the woman on his arm had ulterior motives, her eyes shining every time a new weapon or protocore was being shown. She was there for whatever he could give – power, influence, money – and he was alright with it as they had a common enemy, but Sylus couldn’t deny how loneliness swallowed him even with her around. After all, better with the devil you know, than the one you don’t.

A spot of color in the corner of his eye caught his attention, only to find no one there when he turned around.

He danced with the girl, spinning her around, getting her close again, however his eyes scanned for something else between the guests – someone else.

Then a small flash appeared on the sky, then one more, the three, and… The rain of stars started. His steps carried him to the balcony of the ballroom. From here he could see the beach, the sea and entirety of the sky. Sylus’s eyes were stuck to the sky until below him, on the beach was movement. His muscles tensed for a moment as the person wasn’t on the list of guests.

Her dress was a deep purple, such a royal color that bled into silver at the seams. The bodice was fitted to her form as the skirt made of silk flowed around her like water, rhinestones shining and forming galaxies. It wasn’t an expensive dress, quite the opposite, but it hugged her so well. She danced to the music looking up to the stars, pearls on her ears and neck, heels in hands. His eyes fell on her delicate collarbones and naked shoulders. Her laugh was louder than the orchestra to him. When he saw her face, his heart almost stopped.

Her hair fell in waves around her cheeks, pearls and rhinestones lost in its strands. Such wonderful eyes full of joy, mouth wide in a smile – everything was just as he remembered. Nothing changed about her, maybe only her unrestrained emotions that were such well kept secrets before.

Emcee shifted near him, breaking the spell he fell into. People were gathered around on the balcony. He didn’t even notice when they got closer.

“Who is that?”, she asked in a whisper.

A man he didn’t remember the name of hurried to excuse himself for he brought the novice painter, friend of his son without announcing and Sylus silenced him just by raising his hand.

Novice painter?

There was nothing novice in the way you painted. After that night Sylus made it his mission to attend as many expositions of yours as possible. Each painting was another statement – some were bold, colors full of vitality, while others were delicate as if a second look is all that would take to make them disappear. Each exposition showed another side of you – melancholy fueled by ephemerous sights and people, joy for being alive and moving around, the burning fire of desires so deep they could shake the core of earth.

Sylus loved everything you created, admired every stroke of paint. His favorite painting was the one that showed you reaching for the stars that looked as if they were falling in your hands searching for warmth and closeness. The waves breaking against stones, sea foam on the dress.

This image ended in his bedroom, on the wall right in front of his bed. His home could be an art museum full of your works just after a few months.

You took notice of this stranger that seemed to be there every time your work was celebrated since the ball you attended many months ago. The memory of that night lives in your soul not only for the stars, but how his eyes follow your being since then. When your eyes reached the balcony and locked on a pair of red rubies, it was as if a grand piece fell in its place.

In your home there were countless canvas full of that red and silver. Sketches of him were scattered around on your coffee table, desk, everywhere. But you didn’t know his name.

The next exposition of your art was called Stranger. Maybe it was lame, maybe you thought you are being smooth, it didn’t matter. The mission was to meet him officially. It’s not as if you didn’t know how many artworks of yours he bought by paying at least triple. He had to show up. Still, nervousness was making your stomach knot.

The walls of the gallery were covered in different reds, silver and black, different textures: smooth like onyx, scales, sharp edges. Smudges of color or well-structured shapes. They were questions, nudges, an invitation.

The dress you wore was plain and burgundy, hanging softly on your form, not completely hugging it. The heels in your feet were elegant, their sound making his pulse quicken with anticipation, knowing they were headed his way.

Sylus knew everything here was for him, knew it was his invitation. When his eyes fell on the central work, breathing felt optional – his hair was ruffled by soft wind, the moonlight reflecting on his skin turning his image into an ethereal phantasm. The title was written in cursive in the left lower corner, a question that made him smile – a real smile. Of course, you didn’t remember. But, perhaps, if this was the price to see you be such an orb of light, sadness made no sense.

Feeling your warmth beside him he spoke:

“Sylus. My name is Sylus.”

“Nice to meet you, Sylus. I would present myself, but I think you learned my name in these months”, you answer smiling.

After this, there was no turning back.

Your soul embraced all his cracks and sharp edges, as his shield protected you. Sylus left no place for secrets from you and it would be a lie to say that you didn’t like the rush and danger. There was no place where you wouldn’t follow him. Your heart was there to cradle him, hands there to patch up his wounds.

Sylus could see his Oracle from before just bellow the surface, not in the way you look in the rearview mirror, rather in the way you remember how the seed of a flower looked before it grew into something more.

And so, after eons, for once everything was right. There was peace, whispers into the night, silent caresses and loud hearts.

----

@animegamerfox @nm4565natty a gift for you my lovelies, thank you for your kind words, it was fr my motivation to finally write this (if you want me to untag you pls let me know, I just wanted to make sure you see this💕)

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

How do you know if you're mentally regressing or just really burnt out and/or depressed?

Hi there,

Personally I find this quite hard to answer. But I have some sources about it if you’re interested:

I hope this helps answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What do you think of the salt fic idea that Adrien's a bad hero cause he never takes anything seriously while Marinette is the perfect hero cause she always professional? Personally like always I think that the authors crank everything up to eleven and make Marinette a humorless stick in the mud and exagerate Adrien's propensity to joke around.

I don't read most salt fics because they're all about leaning into the worst things canon had to offer us. The only time I find that cathartic is when it's aimed at Lila and even there I'm picky. At the same time, salt fics are pulling from canon. They're also not doing anything all that odd when it comes to fandom interpretations of canon. They're just a more extreme version of a very common fandom phenomena. There's an old Tumblr post that accurately describes this phenomena:

character: says "I like bread" that one time fandom: character has an obsession with bread. bread is character's true love. draws character as bread. every meta joke in fanfic is about bread. the character's room is wallpapered with bread

This bread post was an example of the benign version of the phenomena. For a Miraculous-specific benign version, I give you this one, single line from The Evillustrator:

Chloé: Ugh, my brain hurts... Huh? Hey! Cat Noir, Are you any good at particle physics? Cat Noir: Oh, this cat's got particle physics in the bag.

To my knowledge, this is the only time Adrien has ever referenced physics and it wasn't even him saying that he liked the subject. He just said that he was good at it. Edit: minor correction, in French he does say it's his favorite subject, but this is still the only time he references physics and a favorite subject isn't the same as being obsessed with physics or wanting a career in physics.

In spite of that, a ton of fanfics see him pursue a career in physics or have a physics obsession because of course it does. This is just how fandom's work. For better or for worse, many fans imprint on random lines, episodes, and characters like baby ducklings.

Salt fics are doing this same thing just with less benign moments from canon. They take questionable behavior from canon and exaggerate it to be the character's whole personality usually as a means of venting their frustration at canon's terrible writing by taking it out on the bad writing's main avatars: the characters.

That's not my particular cup of tea. When I read and write fanfic, I want to embrace the best canon had to offer, not lean into the worst elements of the writing. At the same time, I can't say that these fics are just making things up. That brings us back to your ask. We'll also be discussing my oft mentioned core character concept.

What do you think of the salt fic idea that Adrien's a bad hero cause he never takes anything seriously while Marinette is the perfect hero cause she always professional?

While I don't like this fact, I'd be lying if I said that canon has made Adrien a wonderful flawless hero. There are multiple episodes where he acts in wildly unprofessional ways, leading to all sorts of trouble. This has been going on since season one with moments like this one from Dark Cupid where he decided that an akuma attack was the perfect time to confess his love:

Cat Noir: Falling for me already, my lady? (pulls Ladybug down next to him) I need to talk to you. Ladybug: It’s gotta wait. Dark Cupi- Cat Noir: (hushes her) I swore to myself that I'd tell you as soon as I saw you. Ladybug, I-I... Look out! (Cat Noir spins around to shield Ladybug, and is struck by one of Dark Cupid's arrows.) Ladybug: (gasps) Cat Noir!

Not a great look for a hero, but this is where I get a little defensive of Adrien and blame the writers instead because they're the puppet masters here. Everything Adrien does is controlled by them and so you can't judge him like a real person. You have to judge him as a character in a story which means relying on story telling language to try to unravel what the hell the writers are trying to do here.

When you look at the way canon approaches Adrien's character, you'll find that these questionable moments are never taken all that seriously by the cast. Ladybug may get annoyed at Chat Noir, but she never asks him to quit or treats his goofing off like a deeply concerning problem. When Chat Noir does quit, Marinette is always devastated and wants him back. When the story gets serious, Chat Noir is often used to get Ladybug through her darkest hours without a hint of goofiness. When you look at these high-level story beats and choices, you quickly come to realize that the writers aren't trying to make Chat Noir a bad hero. They just seem to really suck at writing a goofy romantic character who is also heroic! Or, at least, that's my read when I look at scenes like the one above. In my eyes, this isn't the writers telling us Adrien is a bad hero. It's the writers having no clue what they're doing.

I don't know why they decided to have Chat Noir confess when he knew that an akuma was on the loose. It's so easy to rewrite this scene so that he and Ladybug are just casually meeting up for patrol and don't see the akuma until it's too late. That's all that it would take to fix this moment! It would even have better tension if the audience knew that an akuma was around and the heroes didn't, but no! We go this wacky route and make Chat Noir look like a lackluster hero for no good reason. It's aggravating and I get why someone would want to vent about it by writing a fic where Chat Noir got kicked off the team, but I don't find that fun because Chat Noir is so clearly not intended to be a bad hero. I would much rather read a fic that lets him be his best self than a fic that leans into the worst parts of canon and reminds me why this show gets under my skin.

I haven't seen as much of the serious approach to Marinette, but I've definitely seen her exaggerated, too. Either way, it's the same principle at work. People take the legitimately terrible choices canon has made and exaggerate them to be a character's whole personality, ignoring anything in canon that might mitigate the questionable moments. When fics do this, they usually apply the exact opposite treatment to the characters that the person isn't salting on. If Adrien's worst moments are embraced, then Marinette is exaggerated into a saint and vise versa.

If we're being fair, sugar fics have to do some similar trimming of the fat because the bad writing choices are pervasive for many of these character. It's just that sugar fics tend to focus on the best for every character instead of selectively sugaring and salting. For example, I basically ignore everything after season three when writing Nino and I have to pretend that the Lila plot never happened if I want to make Alya work because the writing did her so dirty there. If I tried to make my version of these characters work in the full context of canon, then they'd feel as hypocritical and aggravating as canon has made them.

In summary, I get why this happens and even understand the catharsis that comes from writing salt fics, I just rarely find it fun. The only salt fic I was ever tempted to write was a Lila takedown where the class believed her lies, but she accidentally lied herself into a corner and got Adrinette together. Never actually wrote it, but imaging it was cathartic because she gets under my skin to an absurd degree and canon is giving me no satisfaction with her.

[veilishvixen]

“If you would remember her…could you do it as I would?”

Saddest Solas line in my opinion.

When someone dies, the only comfort we can truly find is in the knowing that we once knew them and will always get to remember them.

But if you had the chance to share your exact sentiment and remembrance with someone else…wouldn’t you? To not have to be alone even for a second in your grief because a completely separate entity in the world remembers them exactly as you did? He literally cloned his entire perspective of her.

It makes me wonder at how foreign the old world must have been for phenomena like this to be so common. And how much Solas must have been hurting to allow Cole to do this for him.

*deep sigh*

[da-janela-lateral]

very curious as to what you mean by esper survivorship bias! there’s a couple things i’ve noticed that could be related (like how other than the obviously powerful teru, mob, ritsu the only child espers we see are the awakening lab kids whose powers are so limited that if they’re the baseline most espers would probably never find out they have powers at all) (or how other than the main 4 esper teens and the awakening lab kids and sort of takenaka the only psychics we see are adults that are part of claw) (sorry. my adhdemons)

FINALLY MORE EXCUSES TO TALK ABOUT MY HYPHOTESIS.

I first adressed it in this post, little time after I read some fics focusing on Teruki's relationship to Claw and started wondering about some stuff. After reading (part) of the World Domination Arc in the manga, I got more questions, which I'll explain here:

The Esper Survivorship Bias Theory

Contrary to the norm in works focused on the paranormal, in Mob Psycho 100 society overall doesn't care about espers. This is of course related to the main theme of "nobody is special" and the story's tendency for desconstructing shonen tropes, but it also implies that while rare, espers aren't seen as a big thing. This can be seen in the following details:

While describing Mob's powers, Inukawa treats them as only something unusual.

The Kageyama family, their friends and their acquaintances find Mob's powers ordinary.

Espers are a known phenomena (for an example, Mr. Asagiri looks for dozen of psychics on the start of the Mogami Arc).

Even when people don't believe on psychic powers, they don't insist much on this view after tiny proof (that is, powers are somehow beliavable).

Espers existing at all doesn't change how society works.

For that to happen, there must be a condition: the occurrence of psychic powers is common enough so that people acknowledge them AND usually don't mind their existence. They are like a weird, yet mundane fact.

This may contradict the canon's premise that psychic powers are extremely uncommon, but in the Seasoning City region alone we see several characters with them. Toichiro affirmed Claw has about 700 members and that he had hired international mercenaries, which in turn may mean there is a significant esper population out there. So why are there so few espers in-verse, they take years to meet people like them?

Simple. They aren't as extremely rare as people think. This is survivorship bias.

Most espers on canon are adults over 20 years old, and even a great part of these are members of Claw. The only psychic children we see are the main cast, the Awakening Lab kids and Takenaka. What a interesting coincidence that Claw too is 20 years old...

It's not that young espers are ultra uncommon nowadays, it's that as soon as they're obvious, Claw takes them.

This is not limited to powerful people, as the organization went after the Awakening Lab kids even though Claw either knew they had insignificant powers, or had no information on the level of their abilities at all. Any esper youth that enters their radar is a valid target.

Besides that, it's essential to remember Teruki is an exception to the rule. He survived being hunted down by Claw since childhood, but he also lived in dire conditions and was obsessed with being stronger than the criminals who went after him. Despite their powers, most esper children are normal. They wouldn't have an idea Claw existed. They wouldn't be prepared for a kidnapping attempt. And considering espers tend to feel socially alienated, lonely children have bigger chances to trust the Claw officials if they presented themselves as "someone who understood them".

In other words: espers aren't as rare as people believe. It's that as soon as they show their powers, Claw takes action. This is why there are so few characters under 18 who have psychic powers.

Final comments

Of course, many of the arguments I have mentioned could mean other things. MP100 has a pretty soft worldbuilding after all because psychic powers aren't the main focus, but rather a pretext for developing each character's perspective and inner turmoil, as well as the story's themes. Lot's of things are also played for humor and don't have real relevance. Furthermore, one could mention how the audience's view over MP100's world is limited to Mob's very uncommon life, and how some elements we've seen aren't the standard.

I'm just thinking a lot about the Claw targets' families. What did they know about the kidnappings? What did they do about them? How did the authorities investigate these cases? Have they found any closure? Have they connected the dots about the nature of the disappearances?

And what about the targets in question? How did their recruitments work? What they thought about what happened to them? Did they miss their loved ones? How many of them went on and kidnapped more kids? How many of them survived? Did they get to reunite with the people they loved and have a chance on a normal life?

Some food for thought.

[badgalsasuke]

sometimes when i see the type of sns stans that are insecure because of, like canon ships or because the writing of romance in sns is not explicit enough i wonder if this is their first exposure to queercoding or implicit queer text in media/literature. or if they're straight and they dont understand that comphet, heteronormativity, and censorship in media exists especially for such a large popular mainstream audience such as naruto. wake up people. the song "a part of your world" from ariel is written by a heartbroken closeted gay man after the man he loves gets married to a woman. the song "reflection" from mulan is very trans coded. george michael's last christmas is also about gay pining but it wasn't common knowledge back in the 80s because of closetting. recently with wicked movie coming out more people are also finding out the queer nature of gelphie's writing in the og broadway.

i saw a post from sns talking about how "if this were reality they'd be together but this is a homophobic manga" and it's... almost like the reality of homophobia irl translates to how the manga ending has to be written. almost like how in reality, in a conservative society lavender marriage is still a common practice that many closeted queer people has to adhere to because of the burden of familial and societal expectations. i also don't like the sns stans that thinks these things doesn't exists in the manga universe when, like, most of the people and the villages practices traditional conservatism when it comes to social customs and norms, the heteronormative nuclear family model is strongly upheld and applauded. there are also those who says these things doesn't affect sns (as characters) because they're strong and they wouldn't care what people think when like.. naruto especially has been shown to care deeply for societal acceptance, has been given expectations to marry a girl by his family, guilttripped into dating by his peers, is literally the hokage so ofc there's more pressure to set up a role model behavior, etc. sasuke is a character who cares less about conforming and we don't see much on how he came to be married but even from the bits we've been shown in gaiden, the nature of the barely-there marriage, the existing rejection, neglect, lies, and deceit in it, and the shady conceival of sarada is still reflective of those loveless only-staying-for-the-kid types of marriage we see irl where the spouses have nothing in common except the kid and one parent especially felt repulsive and dread towards the other parent. sakura's pursuit of him was invasive, aggressive, and one sided and sasuke was also guilttripped into acepting her by those who thinks they have his best interest. I admit that the SS situation is a more unique case than NH who is a typical comphet relationship. But still, it says so much about how a union/marriage that you didn't really want and a selfishness to hide your true intention to keep things the way they are instead of confronting the problem head-on, will lead to more neglect and dysfunctionality.

when i read how intense and devoted sns are to each other in their youth through all of the manga only to end the series by randomly getting married in their old age to someone else of the opposite gender they barely liked, it strikes me as something familiar. cause this is a common phenomena me and my fellow closeted gay and lesbian friends in my country has seen, felt, experienced, or feared through the situations and circumstances that we are dealing with. the only reason people kept saying the (homophobic) slogan of "being gay is a phase" is only because so many gay people were forcibly put through horrible corrective measures, either violently or through forced assimilations and arranged unions and other horrible methods.

if one ship something gay and cant even grasp how heteronormativity is a thing and just how deep that system can go, let alone how it significantly affects irl gay people in a conservative society, then i truly despise these types of shippers. they think because naruto and sasuke married a girl and have a child then they MUST love the girl. forced marriage doesn't make sense for these two cause they're strong or whatever.

Hi anon!

I also feel that way regarding a big part of SNS shippers, I feel that's why a lot of them go "I don't hate NH" or "I like Sakura but-" and so on, they're not really confident in the ship and always try to appease het!shippers. But yeah, to me it's definitely because they don't have enough knowledge on queer art and history that so much of Naruto and Sasuke's writing just totally flies over their heads.

i saw a post from sns talking about how "if this were reality they'd be together but this is a homophobic manga"

SO MANY SNS SHIPPERS SAY THIS! and I don't get it, they're always saying that the manga or Kishimoto are homophobic and I don't get from where the fuck they get that like???? I've seen people say that Kishimoto made Naruto and Sasuke accidentally gay because he's a bad writer that can't write romance and doesn't know what he's doing but there's this other section that says he accidentally made them gay because he's actually homophobic and they can never explain why or how they arrived to the conclusion that Kishimoto is a homophobe. To me his work shows he's the opposite of that.

Everytime those people try to explain how Kishimoto is aCtUaLly homophobic they always end up spewing very racist and xenophobic shit, like he has to be a homophobe because he's Japanese like huh? "oh well it's because Japan it's conservative and their laws aren't lgbt friendly" well, I'm Mexican and Mexico is a very conservative country and it's still full of gays and lgbt allies, unless you're just a racist piece of shit that labels everything that doesn't suit you as bigoted.

For het!shippers to say the manga/Kishimoto is homophobic is one thing, but for SNS shippers to say it is like stfu, you're just annoying and dumb.

they think because naruto and sasuke married a girl and have a child then they MUST love the girl.

Oh yeah, this type of SNS shippers are so annoying, like don't they know what lavender marriages are, don't they wonder why Naruto and Sasuke look so miserable when they're around their wives? like omg use your brain

[strxnged]

ALHAITHAM: # magic.

My secret santa gift for the illustrious Miss Ying @mlkbwunnies (AKA Mrs. Alhaitham)! Thank you for tolerating my poetic inclinations—I can't be normal about anything including your selfship. I am so glad to have met you in the last year or so. You are truly a light in the (many) communities you contribute to! I love being in your server and getting to chat with you and seeing your life updates on my dash. I hope this coming year is full of blessings and light!

Word count. 0.9k. Genre. cozy; established relationship w. a touch of magic.

Alhaitham was roused by the sound of music.

Nascent light of a sun hinting to rise cast a gentle glow on the bed he shared with you. His gaze fell on your bare shoulder. He felt a dreamy rise of strings, a melody of chimes, and his own heartbeat swell as he leaned over you and placed a warm kiss on your cheek. Though he meant for it to only be one kiss, he saw your beautiful lashes and flushed cheeks and he couldn’t resist planting a few more. “Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered. This woke you enough that you half-hummed, half-sighed with a dozy smile—maybe at him, maybe at your dreams. Smiling, he tightened his arm around your waist and gave you one final embrace before he slipped out of bed and donned a housecoat. The music was fading.

It was only as he shut the door to the bedroom that he paused, listening. The music had suddenly stopped, leaving him in somewhat confused silence. It was only a minor hypnopompic hallucination, a common and harmless occurance of post-slumber muddlement. Alhaitham was skeptical of anything deeper than this; he knew that the space between the land of dreams and reality was only a mental trick. Even on a magical day such as today, his mind was only playing tricks on him, he was sure.

Yet he was acutely aware of a sense of wonder. Would it… come back if he opened the door again?

Alhaitham set his hand on the cold doorknob, considering. He was the only one aware of this idea. Kaveh wasn’t around to seed doubt, and you would only think that he was gazing at you one last time. This was something that, at the thought of it, eroded any other concerns. After all this time, he couldn’t get enough of gazing at you. He turned the knob. 

You were still adorably bunched up under the blankets, fast asleep as he’d left you. But the music came flooding back.

Anxiety crept through his body. Perhaps it was a confirmation bias? An expectancy effect? If he closed the door now, the plucked harp floating through his mind would stop, but only because he thought it would. So he thought, determined, that of course it would continue, because that was how hallucinations worked.

The door shut. The music stopped.

It was all Alhaitham could do to step lightly as he sped across the house to one of the bookshelves—yours, which was filled with charming fairy tales, poetry, and anthologies of holy and magical phenomena. Neither of you were very superstitious, but sometimes coincidences occurred in this world that could not be explained by the comforts of science.

He set the book on the table by the window, turning immediately to the index. Slipping his reading glasses onto his nose, he dragged his finger down the list until he saw “Christmas.” He flipped to entries which denoted werewolf children, burning shoes, baths, pudding, elves—but nothing, to his comfort, about music playing in the mind. He was about to close the book, make a coffee, and pretend that it hadn’t happened.

Music, he thought.

Guided by the index, he journeyed through several more entries until he saw one that made his heart skip a beat.

Musical Fantasy: A misunderstood phenomenon characterized by hearing beautiful music in one’s mind. Despite popular conceptions, it only occurs when the one you love is dreaming of you in the early morning. These melodies can sometimes be heard by and channeled through spiritual mediums, and thus transcribed into playable notes. It is said that hearing Musical Fantasies indicates mutual, undying desire.

Alhaitham closed the book and returned it to its position on the shelf. As he brewed his coffee his brows were furrowed in consternation. There had always been a part of him that fancied mysteries, a part that was drawn to the magic of the world. It was against his best judgement and beyond his control. To step into the murky waters of the supernatural would mean to let go of his need to understand—to let go of his impulse to feel in control. He didn’t hate it—he feared it—he was captivated by it. Despite everything, he was intrigued. 

It was not too different from that shine in your eyes that had gripped him all those years ago.

He heard your quiet footsteps like a cat’s down the hall, and he stood, his chest fluttering. Music or no music, he needed to see you, and needed to feel your gaze returned.

As you stepped into the room you seemed to hit a warm, gentle wall. Alhaitham’s hands pressed the small of your back and your hair, drawing you into a tender but tight embrace. The music rang in his head, and yet it seemed to fade into the background when he felt your skin against his. Electrifying. Profound.

His breath tickled your ear as he said in that low, alluring voice of his, “I love you.”

Alhaitham felt you melt into him. And in that unique, familiar way, magic and logic coincided to explain exactly how he knew you were his.

Author's note. I must add that I'm pretty rusty at writing romance these days, so I hope you don't mind that I added in some contemplation with the magic component. Merry Christmas, Ying! And pass it on to your husband, too. (。・ω・。)

[creature-wizard]

I see this (alien abduction communities) having a lot in common with ROMCOA stuff. The Controversial History of Alien Abductions by Kaz Rowe on Youtube (https://youtu.be/of8igM9WFWc?si=LrE_pCrDUMbujQah) What people may get out of ROMCOA (Validation of trauma in a way that is more obviously bad and may be not be as emotionally difficult due to a less personal abuse or mistreatment having clearer motivations.) is different, but the conspiracism of it feels similar.

I say this as a system who has skirted the edge of ROMCOA stuff for reasons like those stated above, but I wondered if you'd have any thoughts on it. (If it's of any interest, I'll send a separate ask with thoughts on the why/how we've dodged the ROMCOA bullet despite being drawn to it, but that's a significant tangent. Also sorry to be anon, I'm shy.)

(To anyone reading this: If you've heard the term "RAMCOA" but haven't heard how it originated among conspiracy theorists and was always meant to push conspiracy theories within legitimate psychiatry, further information is provided at the end.)

Oh yeah, you are absolutely right. I've been comparing these two things for awhile now, and it's basically two presentations of the same exact social phenomena.

You usually have somebody with psychological or physical problems that seem to defy explanation, but are very likely related to something like anxiety, depression, chronic stress, PTSD, C-PTSD, BPD, schizophrenia, bipolar, autism, ADHD, allergies, mast cell activation syndrome, or fibromyalgia. Y'know, a lot of the kinds of things that doctors will dismiss as "all in your head," or that just aren't that well-understood by the public, or might not seem possible because they underestimate just how traumatizing their life actually was.

The way they fall into it is nearly always the same; they never really "remember" any of it until they start coming across literature and people who introduce them to the idea of RAMCOA or alien abduction. And of course by this point a lot of them are absolutely desperate for some kind of explanation or validation, so they look deeper into it. They start learning and absorbing the tropes and narratives that go along with whatever mythology, so to speak, that they've fallen into. Then when they undergo hypnosis, they start "remembering" events that just so happen to line up with whichever narrative they've been exposing themselves to.

There are other groups doing this same thing with their own narratives, of course. In New Age and neopagan contexts, people often seek explanation and validation by trying to uncover past lives. In fact, the whole entire practice of undergoing hypnosis to recover lost memories actually began with people trying to find their past lives.

A common thread is that people remember something that pretty much everybody would agree would be absolutely terrible to endure. Whether you're "remembering" being burned at the stake for witchcraft, eating the heart of a ritually murdered child, fleeing the destruction of Atlantis, or aliens performing invasive procedures on your body, there's no ambiguity or uncertainty that what supposedly happened is horrible. In a society that constantly tells people that they haven't had it bad enough to be traumatized, because real trauma can only come from something way more severe than what they're experiencing, it's just no surprise that this keeps happening. Their subconscious minds seek the images and narratives that seem to align with the distress they're feeling.

It's been observed that what people experience while under hypnosis is basically the same as what they experience while dreaming. What they experience isn't necessarily logical; in fact, it's often far from it. Weird, surreal stuff just happens out of nowhere. People just do things with no genuinely reasonable motive.

In the context of RAMCOA, this is often handwaved away with "well, they're cultists, this is obviously part of their weird cult practices." This is not only an incredibly weak explanation for most of this stuff, but when you look at other supposedly recovered memories, you just can't help but notice that this is a pattern in every belief system people try to recover memories in, so trying to do this for supposed cases of SRA and the like is just special pleading.

And yeah, if you wanna share your story, I'd love to hear it!

For anyone reading this who isn't aware: The term "Ritual Abuse, Mind Control & Organized Abuse", or RAMCOA, is not an innocent catch-all term for religious abuse, institutional abuse, sex trafficking, etc. It was coined by conspiracy theorists in order to repackage Satanic Ritual Abuse/Satanic Panic/Project Monarch alter programming conspiracy theories into something they could pass off as legitimate science/research. Essentially, it's a Trojan horse for far right bullshit. For more information, see Cathy O'Brien - The First Project Monarch "Survivor" and Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler: Two Of The Most Dangerous Conspiracy Theorists Most People Have Never Heard Of.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5879

Jalsa, Mumbai Mar 23/24, 2024 Sat/Sun 10:23 AM

🪔 ,

March 24 .. birthday greetings to Ef AMIT Trivedi .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

..

March 24 .. World TB Day .. prayers .. 🙏🏻

Spending the time with the words of Babuji is not just an education but a revelation of a poet's mind and soul .. a mind that wanders in the visionary hemisphere unknown and unseen in a relative World, but yet possessing the intelligence of the probability of a higher philosophy ..

For it all to come to me now , is a shame .. a shame of lost opportunity and time to have been spent in the research and his presence to be able to understand the deeper meanings in his thought ..

I did on the odd occasion give intent of his interpretation and reason for many of his thoughts .. and they were most revealing .. but then .. time passed away .. as did his presence ..

It is a known and accepted fact that genius of creative art, writing, painting, music or whatever form, has always been overlooked and never given its due during the lifetime of the artist .. and it has been recognised fact of this phenomena that coerces me to, yet again , mention here for consumption of the mass ..

A pity ..

But the efforts of time , or whatever is left in it for me , shall endeavour to give some exposure to Babuji's works and his incredible genius ..

The World has very seldom seen or experienced the greatness of such ..

Last night I spent time on one such random thought of his from a published work :

नई से नई, पुरानी से पुरानी

it contains works of his in short verses, or abstract from , blank verse - short and expressive , but of immense value for us all to think and wonder of how certain thoughts and the express of them , do get created ..

The title of the Poem :

KAVI KA RAKT .. A POETS’ BLOOD

meri band mutthiyaan dekhkar .. seeing my closed fists jis-jis ne mujhse poocha, .. all those that asked me “ismein kya hai” ? .. ‘what is inside them’ ? maine imaandaari se bataya , .. i told them with all honesty “ismein kya hai ? .. ‘what is in them ismein kadamb ka phool hai “ .. in them is the kadamb flower ? "(Neolamarckia cadamba, with English common names burflower-tree, laran, and Leichhardt pine,[2] and called kadam or cadamba[2]) aur logon ne is par .. and the people on this sahaj vishwaas kar liya .. did keep their instinctive believe

vo to jab .. that is, when meri mutthiyaan se .. from my clenched fists rakt ki boondein choone lagein .. drops of blood did start to drop tab logon ne mujhe avishwaas ki nazaron se ghoora, .. then, did the people did stare at me in disbelief mujhse kaha .. and they told me “mutthiyaan to kholo ।” "at least open your fists" aur jab maine mutthiyaan kholein .. and when I did open my clenched fists to unmein .. in them kantkeela dhature ka pahal nikala । .. did come out the thorn laden datura fruit !

(Datura is a genus of nine species of highly poisonous, vespertine-flowering plants belonging to the nightshade family. They are commonly known as thornapples or jimsonweeds, but are also known as devil's trumpets. Other English common names include moonflower, devil's weed, and hell's bells.)

main sharmaya, .. I was ashamed mera jhoot pakda gaya ,.. my lie was caught mujhe apne par aashcharya hua, .. I was filled with wonder , kyunki maine apni ankhein kholkar .. because I had with my open eyes kadamb ka phool apni mutthiyon mein liya tha । .. taken the kadamb flower in my clenched fists !

shayad mai apni bhavatishayata mein ।.. perhaps in the belief of my aatma , the self , the soul kante ko phool samjha, .. I thought the thorns to be a flower par kaanta , kaanta hi kaise reh gaya , .. but how did the thorn , remain a thorn phool kyun nahin bana , .. why did it not become a flower usnein toh ek kavi ka rakt piya tha । .. it had consumed the blood of a poet !!

the word भावा ति शय यता , bhavatishayyata seems to have been taken from a form of the mention in the scriptures of Hindu philosophy, saints and religion , which is why i believe it refers to his aatma, his soul , his inner .. perhaps a more 'cultured way' 😁 of expressing his thoughts ..

DATURA

KADAMB .. CADAMBA 👆🏼

My love and more ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[broomsick]

Hi,

I was wondering if you have any advice for learning to believe that the gods care about us as individuals?

When I see people saying that the gods really don’t care about us in the grand scheme of things, I find that easier to believe than to believe they care about us, which kinda feels .. shit. Although maybe it’s true, I’m not sure.

I honour Loki, but because I find it hard to believe that they care about me at all (especially given I can’t communicate with him – so he can’t tell me if he does or not, and I don’t want to assume), I feel like it puts distance between us on my end.

I apologise if this is a bit heavy or difficult to answer, don’t stress if you can’t, you’re fine to delete it! But if you have any advice, I’d greatly appreciate it.

Hi there! I definitely understand the way you feel, and from time to time, I experience this very same sentiment as well. I think asking oneself this sort of question comes naturally to many of us, because pragmatic thinking could have us believe the divine is somehow too great to care about us measly earthlings.

But let’s break down this idea that’s being spread around pagan social media platforms, according to which the Gods are too busy, too grand, or too powerful to care about their followers. I’ve never been a fan of this sort of over-the-top cynical rhetoric. Still, I think there’s no better way to tackle pragmatic thinking than in a pragmatic way. The way I see it, this perception of the divine stems from a will to fully detach oneself from common monotheistic concepts. The fact is that a lot of neo-pagans, including popular pagan content creators, come from a Christian background. Some of these creators, whether polytheistic, animistic, both, or else, seem very keen on rejecting any spiritual concept or practice deemed monotheistic in nature, such as the idea that the divine can love us. Neo-paganism entails new ideas, and therefore, any perception of the divine that’s akin to that of the big monotheistic religions is either naive, or shows remnants of monotheistic thinking. However, there’s nothing naive about believing that the divine can care about us. I can believe this, just like I can believe that this or that deity presides over this or that matter in life. Belief systems work in a way that allow for specific ideas of the divine to form, and to vary from person to person. And after all,—just as an aside—, if an entity is powerful enough to be considered divine, then they are powerful enough to know about each of their followers, regardless of how many there are. Now, I don’t think there’s any need to specify that polytheism is inherently spiritual. This means that its very foundations are built upon personal gnosis, and belief in concepts that cannot be proven. No such thing as logic regulates matters of spirituality. So why should we, as theists whose beliefs aren’t commanded by any sort of authority or rule set, be so rigidly pragmatic in this case?

In the end, it all comes down to what we personally believe, and what we’ve personally experienced. Who’s to prove that the Gods don’t love us? And if I saw some stranger on social media tell me “hey um, your God doesn’t care about you by the way”, I would think that 1. Me and this person probably don’t even perceive the divine in the same manner at all; 2. Nothing and nobody dictates belief but the believer themselves; and 3. My experience has proven to me that the Gods care for us, and it’s proof enough. But let me elaborate on that matter further.

In most pagan paths, deities embody different natural phenomena and elements of human life. That’s the way the very first forms of polytheism developed. And to me at least, that’s also the way we as pagans experience their presence firsthand. The Gods are all around us: we can see them because we can see forests, seas, storms, fire, rain… And when you see it that way, they are infinitely closer to us than some cynical social media accounts would have us believe. They don’t sit on golden thrones above the clouds, far away from the human condition. Their presence is tightly intertwined with the earth. So why should “the forest, seas, storms” etc etc care for us? Well my friend, have you ever spent time by a river, and felt that it had a soul of its own? Have you ever felt a bond with a specific tree, or got the sense that the storm was alive somehow? That is something I worship as a pagan. And in my personal experience, the God’s burning, all encompassing love can be felt in these sorts of moments. I don’t need for them to tell me directly. It’s like looking into a loved one’s eyes and feeling that they love you, even though not a single word was spoken. I know how difficult it can be to put one’s faith in such a thing, when it’s already hard for us to even communicate with the Gods. That’s why we keep an eye out for signs from them. And even so, we might never truly grasp their thoughts. If anything, that’s something we know for sure about the divine. If you want my opinion, believing that the Gods love us is a perfectly sound choice to make. They send us their blessings in too many ways to count, sometimes in the form of well-needed change, reassurance, comfort… And if you believe that a certain blessing was sent by the Gods, doesn’t that already showcase a certain care? Even for those who see deity worship as purely transactional (an offering for a blessing and vice-versa), the very idea that a deity would send a blessing implies care for the followers who make the offering. And since me, along with innumerable other pagans, have received blessings without necessarily having to ask or perform some sort of huge offering ritual, I’ve naturally decided that the Gods love their followers. Everybody else can feel free to believe what they will, but my faith, intuition and experience have told me so.

Don’t let your mood be undermined by what people say on the internet, but more importantly, don’t let other people dictate what’s true and what’s false about your experience of spirituality. Let yourself believe what you want to believe, there’s nothing wrong with that at all. You don’t owe anybody proof of what you have faith in.

[unnaturalequilibrium]

As I had feared the songs from the movie have been stuck in my mind with the same kind of unhealthy attachment as that damn popcorn shell that decided to lodge itself to the back of your wisdom tooth last Friday and still lives there now. So the movie has been bubbling around inside of my skull like something unfinished and uncooked. So let me vomit it out-

The movie both feels like the biggest inside joke ever and at the same time like a commercial commissioned by Svensk Turism and Universal Music. The plot, the idea isn’t that remarkable really, it’s about two popstars that go on tour and fall in love with each other, despite all of the complications and responsibilities waiting for them at home. That’s not - it’s not that weird, it’s pretty straight forward in fact. Maybe not something particularly common as the foundation for a script to a Swedish movie, but not unthinkable. But it’s the execution that just, it’s basically an inside joke, isn't it? The thing is that it doesn’t feel malicious, but there’s still very much a sense of spoofing and making fun of real phenomena and artists (that first performance from Alice - yeah, that surfs so damn close to a real artist it almost got a bit uncomfortable). I mean there’s some real barbs thrown at the “Mello-crowd”, the indie scene and the music business in general (Rheborg’s dry delivery definitely doesn’t help in reducing the sense of sarcastic commentary). 

At the same time it’s polished like a commercial, the Swedish summer and small town festivals featured as a supporting character. Lazy winding motorways, sunshine across swaying fields of rapeseed, gratuitous shots of Stockholm archipelago, rain wet asphalt and mornings too cold to not wear a sweater. If they’d slapped a “Visit Sweden” on some of these scenes I would simply have nodded and thought, “fair enough”. The same way with how the music is presented, the movie in many ways is just an extended music video putting Thriller to shame despite its hefty 13 minute runtime. So you’re just sat there scratching your head wondering, was this movie made to sell Sweden or the music? And if so do they know they got an entertainingly caustic asshole to write the script?

The thing though is that despite all of that it’s a charming movie, which honestly doesn’t feel like the right kind of word to be using about a story featuring cheating and a marriage falling apart. But it is charming, the love story is fucking charming. Especially the falling in love bits of it and the way they actually use the structure of the movie efficiently and have the concert scenes as a mirror of the sex scenes and amplifying the intimacy through it, to a point where it’s really easy to understand how the characters could and would fall for one another. And luckily the actresses had enough chemistry to sell the yearning. So yes, end result-  fucking charming despite feeling like maybe I am being asked to buy something.

Or am I just a cynical bitch? 

Either way though, I would still recommend it if you want an angsty love story featuring two women.