#it will come into a world where its god-creator will HAVE to be there

[inkskinned]

oh, i am so enamored with the way the lesson of the velveteen rabbit rings true in our modern life. i love that we name our spaceships and write love poems to old buildings. i love that we all cried about the mars rover, that we made her so real that she was no longer a machine but a friend, a companion, a hero.

i love that we become attached to certain mugs, spoons, mason jars. that we develop a strange protective love-hate of our tablets, that we feel weirdly reverent about our new notebook. we name our cars silly things like the crab shack and call our favorite whisk attachment the one great destroyer.

there's a dog statue at my local park that has a golden back and golden head from how often people have pet it. at my college campus, people love an ugly little pointless sculpture we call bacon pants or bacon legs. we assign personalities to fountains, parks, laptops.

i love that our basic instinct is to include others in our community, even where there isn't a real community to speak of. that we love things, even when they cannot physically love us back - for us, the exchange isn't what's important. we give our heart to things so entirely that the thing begins to, in its own way, have its own heart.

the last transmission from the mars rover was not words; it was data. nevertheless, someone translated for her. my battery is low and it's getting dark. they made her last words a poem. they looked at data and saw a soul, a divine spark.

i keep thinking about the first AI born truly free-thinking. i keep thinking about the way scientists and artists talk about their work. how their eyes light up and their hands start moving, how even when they're flat broke and confused and the coding isn't working - there's this love of the thing. i keep thinking that whatever is being born into this new world will be born here on purpose, over a long time, with great energy. that when it arrives, the first thing it will know is most likely the hands of a creator delighted, overcome.

that we made it in our image. that the image we wrote was one of human compassion within ingenuity. that we couldn't make this thing without it being a labor of real-and-true: love.

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 !! | sagau xiao, childe, zhongli x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: uhm. obsessiveness? yandere if you blink a couple times? cult themes... the usual deal with this au

⤷ [ you, the benevolent and kind overseer and creator of teyvat, has descended upon this world in mortal flesh, with a presence that is overpowering, omniscient, and so impossibly pure. ෆ yet, one day, you come into the cathedral with a gash on your arm, dripping with shimmering golden ichor that spilled from your veins. there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring. ]

— sagau!xiao noticed you immediately. it would be hard not to. since the beginning, he had always heard it.

your sound. a beautiful one, a heavenly one. a chord struck him, somewhere in his chest, and he found himself panting on the ground, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

like a electric charge - one that leaves you startled, tentative, with the tips of your fingers still tingling from what happened moments prior. a buzz in your veins that thrums along with your heartbeat.

he didn't deserve to see you. not with what sins he had committed. but xiao was selfish. he wanted to, with his tainted body, he wanted to praise you, scrape his throat raw with his voice.

and so he did.

his face brightens as you step into the cathedral, dressed in ceremonial robes as per usual. you look ethereal, why would you not? your eyes are warm as they fixate on him, and he can feel his heart skip a beat and words die in his throat. he kneels before you orderly, readying to lift his head when something catches his attention - that is, the coppery scent of blood.

blood?

a droplet splatters onto the dustless floor. melted gold.

xiao's already stood up before he realizes it. his eyes are blown wide, his shrunken pupils sharp, like a cat's. "who. who did this to you?" those words take all the willpower in him to speak. his mind is swirling, racing, thinking up of every single possibility, vision scattered and blurry as unbridled fury teems within him.

"it's nothing. some civilians have begun rioting in the city, saying that i'm an imposter. all i did was show them a little bit of my blood and they all started singing praises, so the issue has been resolved." you shake your head with a soft smile, like this matter isn't anything to concern himself over.

it is.

he hates it. how he feels so fucking powerless, how he couldn't even stop this simple event from occurring in the first place. it's his fault. it's his and everyone else who dared not believe your words. your word is the truth. it is the undeniable laws of the world, what maps the stars and what lays the land.

he'll have time to ingrain that within everyone's minds. even if it means time away from you. but that's not the issue at the moment. he turns to search for bandages, but sees the already-healing wound slowly closing up as your skin mends together.

there's a knife at your side, coated in something that shimmers in the rays of light coming from the high, color-tainted windows.

something in his heart decides, seeing your reserved smile.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

very well.

then he'll just have to eradicate every last one of them. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!childe had, to be honest, never cared all that much. why would he, to the person who had abandoned him into the cold, dark, abyss? yet, the smile on your face. it's bright. so bright it burns him. was there a day where he could smile like that?

no, no. he couldn't. that's an expression only reserved for someone as beautiful as you. as pure as you, like a blank, unblemished canvas, with the world as its paint. it's a level of resplendency that no one on this cursed universe could ever hope to accomplish.

a god in flesh, living in a tainted world. a walking contradiction that he had grown to call the thing that allowed him to keep living. something that spurred irony, you who broke all forms of the logic he had made to keep himself sane. perhaps that was why the heart he'd locked away has suddenly begun aching again? is that why he feels so warm from your divine prescence?

"childe?" you call out his name into the vast, empty hallways, glancing around for the familiar sight of a tuft of ginger hair. he hears you at once, rushing to your side with a grin on his face.

"your grace??" he bows at the sight of you, unable -to contain his excitement as he quivers in place, the smile on his lips tugging upwards even more than its current extent. "yes, what's-"

he stops abruptly, his voice faltering as he catches the scent of something iron. one familiar on the battlefield, a liquid that'd paint the surroundings a beautiful red.

his heart pounds. the thrill of a battle? no, that can't be it. if that was the case, how come it felt like he was slowly suffocating on his unspoken words?

that's when he catches the sight of the poorly wrapped bandages encasing your forearms. and the shimmering ichor that's soaked through the hastily wrapped cloth.

he moves to grab your arm, but curses himself out as he quickly changes direction and tightly holds your wrist, his expression more pained than yours, despite you being the one suffering with the injury. "what... your grace, what is this?"

he hates your knowing smile. he hates it. (oh, but does he? could he hate anything that is of you?) it just reminds him how you're all too far for him to reach, a purity that he does nothing to maintain. "there was a riot in the city against the church. luckily, they all quieted down after i gave them a glimpse of..." you trail off, ending your incomplete sentence with a sheepish smile. the rest is self-explanatory, anyway.

his vision trembles as his pupils shake. "haha, you...?" fuck. fuck fuck fuck, just whose idea was it to allow you near a knife? how did you get your hands on that?? which stupid fucking bumbling idiot allowed for this to happen?

it's his fault. he should've been by your side. curse the fatui, curse them all, how could they possibly dare keep him away from your holy being? the guilt that churns within him, is that why he remains mute as you step away, gracefully walking to meet with the other retainers?

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

no, it's fine.

it will all be fine.

cutting off their tongues won't be enough. cutting them up until they're a dismembered, bloody mess isn't even close to what you've suffered for the sake of humanity.

yes, he'll make them realize that. they'll pay with their blood a thousand times over. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!zhongli had his breath taken away by you before he even saw you, before the two of you had even exchanged words. your presence - it was so simply alluring, a saccharide charm that just drew him closer and closer.

sweet. yes, it was a familiar flavor upon the tongue that had long since tasted the many marvels the world had to offer. like a warm cup of tea, made from the sugary extract of flowers, how the sensation of it seemed to bloom upon your mouth.

ah, how should he put this. perhaps you had procured the blossom in his heart instead? stems, leaves, buds, a floret that'd only appear when you were in his gaze. a steady thrum that ran throughout his body with every stolen glimpse he took from your attention expertly.

perhaps, was this what he felt all those years ago?

did it matter? his soul was resolute, now, and it glowed gold, just like the blessed blood that flowed through every vein and lay in every vessel within that beautiful, beautiful you.

yes, ichor... just like the splatter of it on the ground...? a pang of fear strikes him - has something happened to you while he was away? he should've none better than to trust those good-for-nothing other cultists, who spend all their time babbling about your gloriousness yet turn a blind eye to whenever you require assistance!

no, he had to calm himself down. this wasn't the moment where he should grow frustrated. first, he must confirm the situation... he's planned this out to the every plan b, c, d, e, and so on, so how come he's still feeling so anxious?

there you are, upon your throne, busy conversing with a fellow archon, the one as free as the wind. funnily enough, you were the one that tied him down like a shackle.

"ah, zhongli. are you alright? you're breathing quite hard." you tilt your head, averting your gaze from venti's sparkling eyes and instead fixing them on the usually stoic man's jumbled expression. his shoulder's heave as he resists the urge to collapse at your feet.

"what... what are you... you're hurt?" stained bandages peek out from just below your silk sleeve, a sight that cannot possibly be missed from his attentive gilded eyes. "why didn't you tell me? i-i'll call one of the healers so they can-"

"zhongli, there's no need for that." with a hand, you gently signal venti to leave the scene, which he does, with obvious reluctance. a silence gesture that resonates with appreciation deeply within him. "this was of my own accord."

"your own accord?"

"unbelievers decided to throw a riot, and there wasn't much i could do except...well, don't they say that seeing is believing?" how come you don't look the slightest bit pain? where is your self-pity? your frustration? "anyhow, i'm not in a good state. please leave me for the time being, i don't plan on receiving any more audiences tonight."

he bows hastily, yet each movement is still finely crafted with minuscule adjustments that have taken him thousands of tries to master. he does as you say, and his strides are quick and long. it won't take a genius to see that his facade has crumpled, with the clear agitation that's spreading across his features like a wildfire that devours all in its path.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

he'll change that. every thrum of the golden markings running up and down his body seem to pulse in unison with his heartbeat, which is raring like he's recently returned from the battlefield.

who would've thought he'd so quickly return.

this time, of his own will. he'd be sure that these fools of this world would learn the truth of your paragon. ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) please save me the delulu has returned and iTS NOT LETTING GO

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Daddy’s Princess

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x daughter!Princess!Reader

WORDS: 3,014.

SUMMARY: Based on this anonymous request…

WARNINGS: incest, mentions of death/war/suicide, mentions of depression, dark!Aegon ii, thigh riding, mentions of p in v sexual intercourse, cream pie, breeding kink, Daddy kink, praise kink, dom!Aegon ii, swearing, possessive!Aegon ii. mentions of pregnancy/birth.

A/N - posted this originally on my side kink blog [ @aegoniiwifey ], however since it’s not so explicitly kink-related and I’m also really proud of this fic, I thought I would post it here too ☺️ hope you all enjoy this naughty read!

credit to the original creators of the artworks/images.

The Targaryens were undoubtedly known for their “queer” customs, this had been widely yet sceptically recognised. Your own grandmother, the Dowager Queen, even uttered the words herself, despite having played a major role in marrying your late, beloved mother, Helaena to her elder brother, your father and the rightful King, Aegon the Second.

The Dance of the Dragons had begun to churn, when you were still nothing more than a child, however it progressed well into a few solid years throughout your adolescence, only for your father to come out victorious against his treacherous half-sister and her family of “bastards and traitors”, as he spat. The Gods had answered your endless prayers, regardless, rejoicing in success.

Once the Dance had reached its end, you had transformed into a young, modest woman, of the age two-and-twenty. Your handsome father, fifteen years your elder, conceived you during his own youth, robbing him of freedom and instilling responsibility instead, likewise with your dear mother. You had always been plagued with the pestering thought of feeling like a burden unto the young couple, as their firstborn, however your father reassured you otherwise, that you were nothing more than a blessing to him, otherwise.

Regardless, the fearsome battles determinedly fought throughout the decades, came at an inconceivable cost: the cost of the innocent, defenceless lives of your younger siblings who tragically perished in horrendous manners. Your late mother, Queen Heleana, wrought with mad grief and depression for the witness and loss of her babes, she could not bear the reality of life itself, taking her own life as a means to end her suffering.

Excluding yourself, you had no one else other than your grandmother, the Dowager Queen, who kept much to her seldom self these toiling days, isolated in her lonesome chambers, and your father...

Throughout the entirety of the ceaseless quarrels, your dear father had always ensured keeping a close eye and ear on you. Warmly reassuring your frightful self, that he would burn the world before any harm could be done unto you. He kept you close by him at all times, if he had not attended the battle himself on dragonback, Sunfyre close by your chambers, despite having a broken wing, with your own hatchling, Morghul, constantly beside you. It tore him to pieces when he made the harsh decision of having to entrust you to Larys and his unsavoury men, to sneak you off to Dragonstone where he would meet you eventually.

The most skilled guards posted ceaselessly hours on end, day and night, outside your chambers, not a single action went by without Aegon knowing, for all matters regarding your whereabouts went directly through him. During this time, you had solely instilled a perpetual trust in your father's decisions, that laid foundations in your bond with one another, which lingered even post succession of the war. It would be an understatement, that you had become heavily reliant on him, most of the time having been denied the autonomy to think and decide for yourself at such a young age, you grew to much prefer your father taking action, trusting him and only him with decisions regarding your own life. He was highly protective of you, in a way no lord nor knight of the realm could pledge and devote their lives to. You were his kin, his blood, his possession: you became his sole purpose and will to survive during the Dance.

There was, however, only one decision, you had ever made purely yourself, that would change the dynamic of the realm itself...

"Come, my sweet angel. Come to Daddy, and let me ease your mind..."

Despite the realm returning to some ounce of normalcy and peace, the nights you still endured adversity with. Troubling nightmares engulfed your slumber mind of the haunting memories of the Dance. Stirring you awake in a state of distress and panic, sweat beads drenched your forehead and mottled hair, your exposed, plump breasts accentuated in your silk, white nightgown, heaving with every haste and dense breath. Despite the adoring, relentless company of your dotting father by your side in bed, he immediately awoke in tune to your disruptive motions, persisting to remain awake, until he was assured you were comforted and sound of mind, lulling you himself back to sleep.

"Baby, sit on my lap. That's it- Another nightmare, my love?"

"Y-Yes, father."

"I know the feeling all to well, precious... Do you wish to speak about it?" Aegon huskily uttered, as his rough hands gently whisked away the odd strands of hair out of place, his other hand caressing soft circles at your lower back.

Since his heroic return from battle, despite the brutal injuries sustained, and since recovering, your father found himself constantly at your side, even in the late hours of the night. He dared not to trust many despite promisingly pledging fealty to their King, Aegon could only open up to you without the reason of duty, intimidation, or responsibility binding him to you. He wanted you. Since losing Helaena, despite never having been openly romantic with her, he had lost a companion, and had always considered you more of one than a daughter, as you grew wise with age.

Your strong-willed father had always been a man with brawn, unlike your late Uncles, Aemond and Daeron. Aegon was portly and having been raised by him, you grew familiar with his shameless, gluttonous habits. These habits exacerbated during his recuperation, as the maesters including yourself had taken to encouraging your father to eat copiously, often hand feeding him yourself with generous amounts of delicacies, rationalising that it was to regain pure sustenance.

You took pride in his recovery, aiding the maesters to heal your father back to good health, he openly stated that it was your devoted presence and love that made him whole once more. Deep in slumber with milk of the poppy to ease the pain, only he could hear your sweet, angelic voice in the blissful distance, yearning for him. Your gentle touch, as you religiously applied naturopathic ointments to his fresh, raw burns, that eventually healed his scars. He soaked in your warm presence thoroughly, mirroring your reliance on him, he too, became deeply infatuated with you.

Since becoming a mature woman, having grown into your Valyrian-esque features and physique, Aegon saw you in a fairly different light now. You noticed by the manner in which his violet, stern eyes lingered over your body for far longer than what was used to, even if it was for a few, fleeting seconds. You became a distraction in council meetings, as he vowed to have you attend, even if you were merely a cupbearer, standing aside though in proximity of him, a mere shadow: his unfazed attention oogled over you, his mind pondering over lustful, sinful thoughts, only to be beckon called back to reality by the repetitive call of his title, your Grace.

You had always admired your father, and believed there was no man that could exceed the expectations he set in stone… You were made for him, as he had sought to it himself. Blood of his blood, the Gods kept you both alive for a reason, you had discreetly believed.

"I do not wish to speak of it right now... I just need you to hold me, just for a little while," You weakly whispered with a shaky breath. Aegon, with a new found strength, a fuller and sturdy frame, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap, as he laid himself back to rest against the wooden bedframe.

"That's okay, my sweet girl. It will get easier, I promise..."

Adjusting yourself atop of Aegon's wide, meaty thigh, as you gripped and rested your head against his broad, fleshy shoulder, the friction stirring as your bare cunt grinds against his clothed thigh, slowly igniting a familiar, throbbing ache between your inner thighs.

"Hmm, how will it get easier, Daddy? Will you make it easier?" You utter, your lips lightly grazing over his plump cheek, gently guiding his head to turn in your direction: eyes inevitably meeting, your lips passionately crash against his. Aegon does not resist in the slightest, relishing in the kiss, as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, swallowing your taste, before his teeth teasingly bite and pull at your lower lip.

"I can distract my baby. Give her a pleasure no other man in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms can. I'll give my princess the finest treatment she deserves... But only if she listens and obeys her Daddy, like the good girl I know she is."

"Mhmm, yes, Daddy-" A helpless plea closely mistaken for a moan escaping your mouth, Aegon's pudgy hands, steer your legs to spread apart: you find that you can only spread wide enough to saddle one thick thigh at a time. Without needing to spell it out for you, you begin to sway your meek frame, rhythmically bucking your hips backwards and forwards, as Aegon harshly yanks your gown up, enough for your bare cunt to be completely exposed more thoughtfully, and in contact with his thigh.

"Deeper baby, you know you need to push yourself deeper or else I can barely feel you on top."

With haste obedience, you try to plunge your weight deeper against him, your arms embracing Aegon’s stocky frame tighter. His swollen, bloated gut pressing flatly against your own chest, earning a sensual growl from your father.

“Good girl… My good, little princess. Going to listen to every word Daddy says, so I can make her feel so much better.”

Your whimpering moans, and slow nods in agreement, as your head instinctively rocked back, eyes closing with pure pleasure, you could feel Aegon’s rough hands exploring your waistline, before one snaked behind your spine, keeping you steady by a careful grip on your neck. The other began to tug and pull at the silk strands of your nightgown, loosening the knot, to expose more of your obvious, ample cleavage.

“Look at how beautiful you have become. My little princess is not so little anymore, such a divine grace, a woman. No other beauty roams the Earth, as you do.”

The outstanding appraisal oozing breathlessly from Aegon's plump, blush lips, echo in your thoughtless mind with intense gratification. Treasuring each word, he worshipped you dearly, often placing you on a pedestal as great as the Iron Throne itself.

"Yes Daddy, t-tell me more."

Your helpless moans begin to sob from your mouth, filling the void of the vast room, other than the faint crackling of the dying fireplace. Your eager pace quickening, feeling the burning sensation erupt from the friction against your tender skin. Your body leaned forwards with Aegon's generous shove, as he in turn plunged his handsome face between your sensitive breasts. Feeling his lips trailing across your soft skin, hungrily suckling and lapping down to your nipple, as his other hand playfully massaged and kneaded at your other tit.

"Does princess want Daddy to fuck her stupid? Make her so full of me, she'll be dripping, begging for more, for nothing to be spared? All the princess needs to do is ask Daddy, like the polite girl she is."

"A-Aeg-"

"Words, princess. My cock isn't even inside you yet, and you're already hopeless. Didn't I teach you to use your words?"

"Hmm, Daddy, I-I need your cock, I-I need you inside of me, p-please."

Incoherent, you knew how weak and feeble you felt against your father, a formidable man, both inside and outside the confines of the bedroom.

"My beautiful baby, using her manners, makes her Daddy so, so proud. How did I get so lucky, being blessed by you?"

"D-Daddy blessed me."

Your hands clawed their way across his muscular shoulder blades, nails sharply dug into Aegon's bareback, as he often enjoyed sleeping shirtless, his natural body warmth radiating from his scarred body. Now one hand snaked its way into his short, unkempt hair, avidly tugging at his silver strands, begging for more.

"Easy baby, so needy for her Daddy, huh? Never change baby, Daddy's always going to take care of you okay? No one can take care of you, like I have..."

"N-No one. Daddy protects me from cruel monsters, a-and evil men. I-I could never leave, D-Daddy."

Groans and growls pooled from Aegon's lush mouth, as his tongue teasingly lapped and pulled at your perky nipple.

"My perfect princess. That's right, baby... Now, you ready to take Daddy's cock? I'm feeling pretty big, princess. You've been getting me as hard as Valyrian steel."

His hand found yours, firmly guiding it down to where his stiff, rigid cock throbbed densely with enthusiasm, beneath his pants, desperately aching to be taken.

"Y-Yes... Only I deserve Daddy's cock."

Rightfully earning a low, jovial chuckle from Aegon, scoring his mutual amusement and agreement, nodding to your proud notion.

"That's right baby... Only you."

Heaving himself and you atop with such vigour, you aided Aegon in pulling his pants down, as his cock sprung into full action. The sight made you shiver and whimper instantly, how its reddened tip flashed in the dim light, with pre cum already oozing generously from the raw tip. His length modest, its width had always been a wondrous vision. Regardless of the preparation or the amount of times you had taken Aegon before, you could never quite adjust to his glorious girth.

"Easy baby, that's my good girl. D-Don't be afraid, I got you. You can take it, I know you can. Making Daddy so, very proud."

Carefully positioning you atop, as you began to gently settle down, the sharp jolt of pain, as its tip etched between your silk folds, made it subtly easier for him to slip his full mass in.

"Wet for me already, my cock's practically drowning baby... So tight for me, my sweet princess. I can feel you swallowing up my fat cock."

Witlessly yet diligently, bobbing up and down on Aegon's lap, as your father vigorously thrusted his heavy mass upwards, craving to shove himself deeper into your slick folds.

"Good girl, Y/N. Daddy's going to fuck you so hard, fill you up to the fucking brim with my seed. Want to carry Daddy's babes, like a good princess? Make Daddy so proud, huh?"

"Y-Yes, I'll do w-whatever Daddy says, whatever D-Daddy wants. Anything to m-make you proud."

The rough texture of Aegon's battle-torn hands, cooed and caressed at your back, one hand gripping your neck once more, keeping you steadily mounted against his body. His other hand, continued to firmly squeeze at your tender breast, almost mimicking a wringing motion, as though anticipating for milk to ooze.

"Making me the proudest Daddy in the realm, princess. But you are far from being done with your royal duties... I'm going to fuck you day and night, till I see your belly swell greatly with child, with our child... Not till we fill this entire keep with the future leagues of the Targaryen dynasty. And if anyone dares to question our customs... They can play the fucking fool and answer to me."

Aegon, in a breathless, heated rut, finally reached his almighty gusto. His fresh, hot seed spilling up into you, as it oozed out of your tight crevices, clenched around his achingly, pulsating cock. In turn, your cum released in a liberating gesture, pouring over Aegon's rigid, thick cock.

"Hmm, Daddy spoils me s'good. Blessed I am th-that you want me to carry your heirs. Blessed I am to be carry on your legacy, Daddy."

Just as you were about to dismount from Aegon's sturdy lap, and tense cock, still stretching out inside of you, did you feel his strong embrace pulling you back down, keeping you situated over him as you were before.

"Daddy's not done yet, princess... I told you, I am fucking you endlessly till I see this belly-" His palm lightly grazing over your lower stomach in circles.

"-swell and these beautiful tits, leak with milk as I knead and suck. I will fuck you day and night, till you reek of my scent, exhausted of pleasure, and drenched in my cum and sweat. Princess belongs to Daddy and the whole realm shall know of it. I won the war, and I shall win the heart of the realm... That is you, my angel."

The remainder of the night, into the sleepless, bright dawn of the morrow, Aegon had kept his rigid cock buried deeply, and warmly planted inside of you. As the hours nudged on, you could feel yourself repeatedly peaking inside, as did your father, growing more and more numb to the cramping sensation. Your wincing and whimpers did not go ignorantly unnoticed, as Aegon would lull you, praising how proud he was of you for taking him so well. The only time he released was to clean up the god awful mess strewed across the sheets, and the minor bleeding pooling from your inner thighs.

In the morrow, he commanded the servants to fetch you a warm, floral scented bath, with the condition that he bathe you himself. Breakfast was brought to you directly, as you remained bed bound resting and recuperating.

"Now it's Daddy's turn to take care of his princess. Just as you took care of me during those dreadful months. My sweet, precious angel never left her Daddy's side, like an obedient, loyal girl. And Daddy will never leave you, okay."

Words had spread like wildfire, as your belly and tits had swollen healthily with a growing babe inside. The maesters to confirm and seal your fate, Aegon and yourself could not have been happier. Despite the relentless, whispering gossip alongside the timid side glances, no one dared to speak against Aegon's decision to marry you lawfully in tradition of your Valyrian customs, otherwise. Blessing the King a long-awaited, hearty male heir, the prophecy his late father often uttered about in his ill, deluded state: Aegon believed the Prince that was Promised, would emerge from his bloodline, thanks to you.

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you]- @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for dividers - @/saradika

[yandere-3-sagau]

Creator Reader Brainrot But It’s Based on Religions

warning(s): religion

A book is published that is essentially a “bible” for the religion of you. It includes your whole life story.

A list of red flags you made in your world ends up being mentioned as sins in Teyvat so religious people and acolytes try their best to avoid it.

The list of green flags you made in your world ends up being mentioned as the things an acolyte does to be a faithful follower.

Your birthday is the biggest holiday in Teyvat (of course) where people eat your favorite food and celebrate. No one has work and it’s like how christmas is celebrated.

Your favorite color or the color you wore the most becomes the holy color in Teyvat.

Your favorite animal becomes a sacred animal, it becomes a sin to hunt, capture, or whatever your favorite animal.

Any tattoos you may have become religious symbols.

People with your hair and eye color are considered more connected to you and considered more “holy” so most often these people become priests/saints/or other figures under your religion.

Extension:

- you isekai into teyvat but its very uneventful since no one thinks you’re the creator.

- people won’t make a big deal out of it if you look like the creator

- if you have the same name they don’t think it’s a big deal since many religious parents name their children based on you

- you go about pretty normally until you start hearing people quote from your scriptures

- You become curious and read it

- At first you’re shocked that they have a book on your entire life

- you think it’s crazy how they interpreted everything that happened and how your dislikes become sins

- As you read on you realize that the book doesn’t end from where you last remember it

- It turns out that when you came to teyvat, you disappeared from your birth world

- The book mentions the reactions of everyone you were close to (the author included it to show how much you care about teyvat) and it explains though it’s a tragedy, it was a necessary sacrifice you had to make in order to help the people of Teyvat

- Only you had no choice

- Reading everything your family/friends have experienced after your disappearance breaks your heart

- You come to fork in the road where you must choose what’s more important to you - A game where you’re worshiped as a god or your family, friends and home

[maleyanderecafe]

When Jasy Whistles (Webcomic)

Created by: Cibeles

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

You probably have seen this one around, but I did find it very unique in terms of the worldbuilding. It can be admittedly fairly slow in some points in terms of pacing though actually the thing I enjoyed the most out of the series was seeing Jasy's siblings and learning more about them. Currently as of writing this, the story has finished its second season and the creator is working on it's third and final season.

The story starts out with Hela, a girl who lives in an traditional/ relatively isolated town outside of modern things who wants to take after her grandmother and become the chief of her town one day. Hela's best friend Rodri is one day taken away by one of the demigods, Jasy, and Hela goes to get him back. Jasy needs a human to help him get through the gate as a demigod like himself is not able to, and promises that if he makes a pact with Hela and gets through, she will be able to get Rodri back. Hela is very suspicious of Jasy as not only did he kidnap her best friend, but there are folk stories about how you should not follow Jasy's whistle, as it lures them somewhere bad. However, with no other way to get Rodri back, Hela accepts the pact and they go on their adventure. They are attacked by one of Jasy's half brothers, Ao Ao, a beast that eats everything and gives birth to children with only the desire to consume. As Jasy is not able to hurt his siblings, Hela must be the one to protect him using her skills in archery. They are able to escape and slowly walk through the land itself. There they meet other people there, trapped under strange circumstances. All of them are cursed to grow until they are adults and are never able to grow old, all while still having to sustain themselves on the few resources they have in the land. Hela wishes to open the gate and free the people there, as they are all fighting over the resources, while Jasy doesn't seem to care whatsoever, as he has a distrust of humans after the previous one betrayed him while trying to open the gate. Despite this, Jasy is able to mostly have amends with the people there, and even meets another sibling of Jasy's, willing to give her face to him so as long as they can go through to the gate safely. In the end, this brother instead wants to have Jasy's face, something that he willingly trades over Hela's, so as long as Hela can stay alive. Hela eventually reaches the gate where she sacrifices herself to open it and allow the people into the land. This greatly affects Jasy as he suddenly realizes how much he had cared for and loves her. To get her back, Jasy goes into the spirit realm to try to save her, and he's able to see her past with Rodri. Jasy is fully willing to stay with her in this forever loop of her childhood, but the two of them eventually come back into the world, and now having opened the world so the humans can go in, recover there afterwards. Jasy and Hela continue to love each other in their honeymoon phase, until Jasy is captured by humans. Hela finds out the humans that caught him are under the leadership of Rodrigo's mother, who had been missing for a while, chasing after treasures. We find out that she is the human that betrayed Jasy initially and attempts to get Hela to shoot him, only for her to free him. The last couple of chapters reveals that Mboi Tu'i, the sibling that has taken care of the realm is actually Rodrigo in some way and wants to take Hela away.

So I will say right now I don't really know that much about South American mythos, so there's a lot of things that go over my head in terms of references or how each type of god acted, but I do feel that I did have a good understanding on how each of Tau's children acted and the kind of possible personalities that they have. It's definitely a unique take on mythos that we don't normally see. The artwork as well is very gorgeous, the characters are very pretty and I'm a fan of the more monster designs of the siblings as well, seeing how each of them came to be and just how much they have to suffer. The world that Jasy and Hela go into is very cool, the idea of humans that basically can live forever is both a blessing and a curse, as they cannot reproduce and they still have to eat and fight for territory. I think my favorite of his brothers is probably Kurupi because I really do like sad monster boys that are shunned because of their appearance. Compared to his more real life depictions in myths he's a lot more sympathetic and tragic, so it's nice to see those incorporated in there. The entire plot seems to eventually go to deal with Tau, Jasy's father, in some point in the future.

Still, despite this, I feel like the plot at times can be really slow. There are good moments like when Hela helps out the people who are in stuck fighting each other and we see the dynamic of the world, as well as the aforementioned lore of all of Jasy's siblings, but the actual development of Hela and Jasy's relationship is slow, all things considered. Initially, Jasy and Hela are more like enemies, as Hela is extremely suspicious of Jasy and vice versa, only cooperating with each other because they need each other's help. Still as the story goes on the two of them fall for each other and slowly develop feelings for each other. This isn't necessarily done in a bad way, but it is incredibly slow and honestly lost my attention a lot of the times. I'm also a bit surprised that Hela wasn't more resistant considering Jasy actually did kidnap Rodri and only promised to give him back if she cooperated. While again, the romantic moments were fairly cute, they aren't all that interesting to me and to be honest, I'd rather see the actual worldbuilding that the two go through rather than their relationship. Hela as a main character focuses mostly on her desire to run her tribe, and while she initially is fairly competent and active in the story, shooting a lot of Ao Ao's children, she ends up having to rely a lot of Jasy to save her, especially since she ends up losing her bow and arrow after a while. I actually straight up forgot that she could do archery at the end when Hela was forced by her aunt to kill Jasy, which is probably not a great sign. I don't think she's the worst MC in these stories because she does have a lot of interesting points to her, but it does feel like she was hamstringed after a bit, with a bunch of chapters after Hela dies and is revived pretty much being carried around by Jasy as she recuperates. She does have a fairly strong conviction of not only bringing back Rodri but her connection to her grandmother, as well as the development to allow herself to finally decide things for herself without having it taken away from him, but I still feel like she could have used a bit more agency in the story itself.

Jasy as a yandere doesn't actually start out as one so we actually see the kind of decent he gets into. He is a rather light yandere all things considered, but it is always fun to see them descend into yandere behavior nevertheless. Like I said before, Jasy and Hela have a bit of a tumultuous relationship at first with the two of them begrudgingly forced to help each other, while slowly learning to understand each other a bit more. Jasy doesn't understand why Hela would go so far to save Rodri and later the humans that are trapped but has to go along with her anyways since she's the key to him getting through the gate. By the time he does reach the gate, and Hela sacrifices herself, he starts to realize the error of his ways- while initially he viewed her as a tool to open the gate, he now starts to realize that he actually did care about her, and more deeply love her, even to the point of going to the realm of the dead to find her. He even so much is willing to loop over and over Hela's favorite childhood memories forever so as long as they are together. When Jasy does finally retrieve her, the two of them basically have a honeymoon together, where Jasy is extremely doting on her. We do see some of bits of jealousy earlier with Jasy, such as when one of the guys of offhandedly suggests that Hela is actually pretty attractive, but it doesn't really come to full fruition until after she dies. It's a bit hard to say right now exactly how far he'll go considering it feels like it's just the beginning of the yandere arc for Jasy, but it at least is a start. Not sure how far they'll ramp it up in the third and last season, if at all. Like I said though, it's still pretty light and it's very possible that it might stay that way, though with Rodri's reveal, it could also very well go on a darker path.

Overall, I was pretty surprised at the story, but I do have split opinions on it. The worldbuilding and the mythos of the monsters are really interesting and a definite unique take that I haven't personally seen as much before, but I find that the story and pacing for the characters are pretty tedious and dragging at times. Still, it's extremely beautiful and the story itself is something unique to experience if you are interested in such things.

[thoughtspresso]

Oshi No Ko was about Arima Kana all along.

And I think there’s a real possibility she may die at the end.

Or be placed in the way of grave danger.

I was reading some AquKane shippers say something about how they don’t understand AquaKana, and why the writers and directors keep clearly pushing Kana towards Aqua when they barely share any chemistry. Whereas, in their belief, his relationship with Akane is more honest, deeper, whatever. I’m not here to argue about that. But I get where they’re coming from. And the simple explanation is this:

It’s because this whole story was written for Arima Kana.

I’ve seen some Youtubers talk about how this whole story was meant to be fulfillment for Ruby/Sarina’s dream to become the next great Idol, something about Amaterasu favoring her.

And that’s near what I thought of it. But I really think if the God of Entertainment wanted to bless a child with cancer a second life as the world’s great idol, they’d also give her a great singing voice, y’know?

Spoilers for the manga, of course as we go along on this explanation. So anime onlies, get caught up before you start reading me ramble.

Here we go:

1. Arima Kana is the embodiment of Amaterasu, not Ruby.

Or at least, Amaterasu’s appointed representative, or her favorite daughter.

To give you a run-down of some of the core Shinto/Japanese Mythology that is important for the story, the Creator God Izanaki had three children:

Amaterasu, Goddess of the Sun.

Tsukuyomi, the Moon.

Susanoo, the Storm.

The story goes that Amaterasu and Susanoo had a competition about who could create better gods. So Amaterasu took Susanoo’s Totsuka-no-Tsurugi* (longsword) and split it into three, from which she birthed the three Munakata goddesses.

And woncha knowit, there are three great actresses born in that year?

*A reminder that Kana plays the character Tsurugi, which literally just means Sword. And Akane’s character Saya-hime just literally means Sheath or Scabbard Princess.

In this bet, Amaterasu got clever with the rules and won on a technicality. Susanoo went on a rampage, destroyed Amaterasu’s ricefield, and flayed Amaterasu’s favorite divine horse*, and then threw its body at her loom.

*The name Arima is spelled with the Kanji of Horse & Exist/Live. 

Amaterasu, in her grief, flees into a cave, believed to be Amano Iwato cave, right in the town of Takachiho, Amamiya Gorou’s hometown, and the death place of  Tendouji Sarina.

The being that draws Amaterasu out of there was the Goddess of the Dawn, known also as the Goddess of the Revelry & Arts, a being that Aqua says he knows well, and believes there’s a grain of truth to:

And how does Ame-no-Uzume draw Amaterasu out of her grief?

By throwing an absolute rager, and dancing really wildly that it catches her attention and makes all the gods around them laugh so hard. Just like:

Ame-no-Uzume will later on marry a diety who tried to block her passage before, Sarutohiko, who in Ise is worshipped as the god who illuminates the world.

That’s some divinity-level AquaKana shipping right there.

Just like how Aka Akasaka wrote the story of Kaguya-sama: Love Is War about two lovers who couldn’t be together just like in the myth of Kaguya, but having his characters overcome all odds to defy divine fate, I do believe that apart from the parallels to the mythology like he did in Kaguya-sama, there is very literal divine intervention this time in Oshi No Ko.

I think what’s happening is that the gods, particularly Amaterasu and Susanoo are quarelling again about who could create better gods, just like before, but now more of whose favored child will shine the brightest and be worshipped by the most humans. But just like last time, Susanoo may have been enraged, especially at the sexual assault of his chosen Hikaru Kamiki, that he possessed him with a corrupting force that urges him to destroy shining stars before they reach their peak, hence the murders of Himekawa Airi, Hoshino Ai**, and Katayose Yura.

Which by the way, the name Hikaru means Radiant Light!

And Hoshino means Field of Stars!

Whether it’s because Amaterasu is angry that every daughter she sends to earth is slaughtered by Susanoo’s chosen, or just because she wants to win their competition, she appoints Ame-no-Uzume to assist in safeguarding her new favored one from Kamiki’s clutches. Her new favored one being Arima Kana.

And therefore, Ame-no-Uzume takes the souls of two motherless humans who had passed before they could shine and sent them to become Hoshino Ai’s twin children. It was all anyway happening in her territory of Takachiho at the most opportune time.

Ame-no-Uzume is also known as The Goddess of Dance, as well as The Great Pursuader. And wouldn’t you know, that’s exactly the gifts that the Hoshino Twins received.

An energetic performer who takes the stage with dance:

And a deceptive, persuasive, extremely believable actor, who:

fooled his own sister into believing she had been rejected from an audition

pretended to scout an idol from a competing agency to research them

get Director Gotanda to raise him and train him

make Akane not just date him, but follow him down a destructive path

convince Kana and Mem to join IchigoPro

impersonate Pieyon for several days straight

Anyway, I truly, truly believe that unbeknownst to Aqua, his true mission is just to keep drawing Kana out of her darkness until she shines the brightest. Which is what he keeps doing anyway:

2. The Timing of the whole Oshi No Ko plot is aligned with Arima Kana’s rise to unprecedented stardom.

The story of Ai Hoshino’s pregnancy and meeting of Gorou Amamiya in a quaint hospital occurs at the beginning of Arima Kana’s life, just after she is born.

She meets Aqua Hoshino around age 4, already talented, and already extremely arrogant which could have easily been the demise of her career. But meeting Aqua and seeing his acting was a necessary wake-up call for her, that it brings her to tears. She never forgets this experience that she brought that lesson with her to her adulthood: that she can’t be satisfied and keep working harder, and to be a better communicator with her colleagues. At their first point of contact, Aqua already becomes the reason why Arima Kana’s acting career survives the slump.

They meet again in high school, when Arima Kana has one acting job in a lackluster production of Sweet Today. The ratings had plummeted, if not for the fact that Aqua came onto the set to draw out the best acting Arima Kana could deliver. After this, Arima receives much more respect and recognition from her colleagues in the industry beyond just being cast to bring some legitimacy to their production.

It’s because of Aqua and Ruby that Kana joins IchigoPro’s Idol Division, and her career is reborn anew. Such that, even after quitting B-Komachi, Arima states she never regretted the decision to join, because otherwise the career of Arima Kana would have been already over. 

It’s because of Aqua’s presence that Arima trains to become better and better as an idol. Aqua kept drawing out the light from Kana’s eyes, to the point that it catches the attention of the crowd who previously had no interest in her.

It’s because of her experience as an idol that she regains the confidence and sense of greed necessary to grab the attention of the audience when on stage, such that even Akane recognizes this change in her when Arima takes the stage as Tsurugi for the 2.5 Adadptation of Tokyo Blade.

And it’s because of all of these that she captures the attention of award-winning Director Masanori Shima, who lines up some roles for her when her acting schedule had dried up. It’s once again because of Kana’s dedication towards Aqua that Shima D finds her so interesting that he was most willing to promise her the best role possible.

It was as if Ame-no-Uzume-no-Mikoto appointed Aqua and Ruby to come draw Arima Kana out of her Cave, and bring the Sun out again, just like how the deity drew out Amaterasu.

If you think about the title of the show, Oshi No Ko, it literally means The Favorite Child. God’s favored child. Arima Kana had been born chosen by Amaterasu from the very beginning. And Ame-no-Uzume is sending Aqua and Ruby to aid on this quest.

Which explains why it seems like there had been a mission communicated to Aqua from the very beginning. And why Ai was never going to be reincarnated at all.

You would think that if The Crow Girl, which we assume is the divine guide Yatagarasu, was communicating with Aqua about his revenge plan or helping him find Kamiki, that Aqua would hold a more favorable relationship with The Crow whenever it appears to give advice, no?

But it’s exactly the opposite. Because The Crow is guiding him into something that is different from his personal goal that Aqua doesn’t understand.

And this is where I think Arima Kana could be put in danger.

3. Arima Kana is Hikaru Kamiki’s next target.

There were earlier theories that thought Kurokawa Akane was the one to die next, because of what people have now learned of Kamiki’s serial murderer profile targeting big celebrities before their peak, and because Akane had received a bouquet of white roses from him when she won an award.

The chapter when it was expected to happen was a fake-out from Aka Akasaka, and some people think it’s still possible that she’s the target. In fact, I keep seeing recent theory videos who discount Kana and say she’s “the safest”. Hah! If only!

The scenes with Shima D weren’t just a mere plot point to bring scandal to Arima’s name, and threaten her career and life enough that it pushes Aqua to reveal his mother’s secret in exchange. But it’s there because this is the upward path for Arima Kana. So far, the only people who have witnessed her dazzling star power have been fans of the Sweet Today manga, idol otakus, and people who attended Tokyo Blade. That’s not really masterpiece-of-the-century, performing-at-the-dome level. None of these gigs have placed her center stage in what could be Film of the Year, and a Best Actress spot. Now, the chance is here, and it’s real:

I think, The 15-Year-Lie will attempt to draw out Hikaru Kamiki, or that Aqua intends to reveal himself in the movie looking like him, and reveal the identity of his father.

But I also think what would happen is that they would be unsuccessful at taking him down completely. Instead, from the movie, he would be interested in Arima Kana, and target her through the course of her Shima D movie, and plan to kill her before an important awards night.

Alternatively, now that Kana is changing her focus to film, she may consider moving agencies, and ask Frill Shiranui about her agent. And if we’re right, she is likely represented by Kamiki Productions.

Either way, Kamiki will pay attention to her and try to kill her just before she reaches her highest.

But I don’t think Arima Kana will die. I think instead of being saved by Aqua, it’ll be Kana who takes Kamiki down. Echoing back to her getting mad at Aqua for thinking that avoiding her was protecting her, and Aqua believing that Kana doesn’t need help since she’s strong enough to take care of herself.

And then maybe, it’s Arima Kana who draws Aqua out of the darkness too.

And, just like with Kaguya and Shirogane Miyuki, Aka Akasaka is once again writing a story about two people who will defy a fate of divine tragedy, and come out of it being more truthful with each other than they’ve been with themselves all along.

[prettymindset111]

you are limitless , you can manifest anything

when it comes to LOA you can have whatever you want literally WHATEVER you are completely limitless as everything literally EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE’s existence is because of you , you are the cause you are the creator of this world .

“If you can conceptualize it, it must exist. These are so minute in detail that we will never truly question the nature of our reality. It is best to view this reality almost like a frame by frame video. However, Consciousness does not have to be the watcher of this video, but can stop the frame and redirect the video to where Man sees fit. Since there are infinite Versions of yourself, being Specific on how you want to be is achievable. Take where you are now. Maybe you are 18 years old, maybe 48, it does not matter. Go back one year and realize that one year ago, the Version you are now, existed when you were 17 or 47 years old. Did you not have the freedom to be a different version? If so, do you not have that same freedom now? “ - edward art

Man can bring things into existence through his thoughts and consciousness .

Consciousness has the power to resurrect or bring things into existence . nothing exists without your consciousness or imagination

This truth is common to all men, but the consciousness of it – and much more, the self-consciousness of it – is another matter. The day I realized this great truth – that everything in my world is a manifestation of the mental activity which goes on within me, and that the conditions and circumstances of my life only reflect the state of consciousness with which I am fused – is the most momentous in my life.

you are always going to be greater than anything that is expressed in your reality be it good or bad because ofc ? like you created it and the creator is always greater than it’s creations .

“ The power conceiving and the thing conceived are one but the power to conceive is greater than the conception. Jesus discovered this glorious truth when he declared, "I and my Father are one but my Father is greater than I." The power conceiving itself to be man is greater than its conception. All conceptions are limitations of the conceiver. Consciousness precedes all manifestations and is the prop upon which all manifestation rests. To remove the manifestations all that is required of you, the conceiver, is to take your attention away from the conception. Instead of "Out of sight out of mind," it really is "Out of mind out of sight." The manifestation will remain in sight only as long as it takes the force with which the conceiver — I AM — originally endowed it to spend itself. This applies to all creation from the infinitesimally small electron to the infinitely great universe. Be still and know that I AM God. Yes, this very I AM, your awareness of being, is God, the only God. I AM is the Lord— the God of all Flesh— all manifestation. This presence, your unconditioned awareness, comprehends neither beginning nor ending; limitations exist only in the manifestation. When you realize that this awareness is your eternal self you will know that before Abraham was, I AM.“

“ Only through one door can that which you seek pass into the world of manifestation. I AM the door. Your consciousness is the door, so you must become conscious of being and having that which you desire to be and to have. Any attempt to realize your desires in ways other than through the door of consciousness makes you a thief and a robber unto yourself. Any expression that is not felt is unnatural. Before anything appears, God, I AM, feels itself to be the thing desired; and then the thing felt appears. It is resurrected, lifted out of the nothingness. “

“ I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being “

bibical analogy :

“ Your unconditioned awareness or I AM is the Virgin Mary who knew not a man and yet, unaided by man, conceived and bore a son, Mary, the unconditioned consciousness, desired and then became conscious of being the conditioned state which she desired to express, and in a way unknown to others became it. Go and do likewise; assume the consciousness of that which you desire to be and you, too, will give birth to your savior. When the annunciation is made, when the urge or desire is upon you, believe it to be God's spoken word seeking embodiment through you. Go, tell no man of this holy thing that you have conceived. Lock your secret within you and magnify the Lord, magnify or believe your desire to be your savior coming to be with you. ���

"A man can receive nothing (no thing) except it be given him from Heaven." Remember heaven is your consciousness; the Kingdom of Heaven is within you. This is why you are warned against calling any man Father; your consciousness is the Father of all that you are. Again you are told, "Salute no man on the highway." See no man as an authority. Why should you ask man for permission to express when you realize that your world, in its every detail, originated within you and is sustained by you as the only conceptional center? “

- neville , your faith is your fortune

[antiporn-activist]

A Marketplace of Girl Influencers Managed by Moms and Stalked by Men

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/02/22/us/instagram-child-influencers.html

Seeking social media stardom for their underage daughters, mothers post images of them on Instagram. The accounts draw men sexually attracted to children, and they sometimes pay to see more.

Feb. 22, 2024

By Jennifer Valentino-DeVries and Michael H. Keller

The ominous messages began arriving in Elissa’s inbox early last year.

“You sell pics of your underage daughter to pedophiles,” read one. “You’re such a naughty sick mom, you’re just as sick as us pedophiles,” read another. “I will make your life hell for you and your daughter.”

Elissa has been running her daughter’s Instagram account since 2020, when the girl was 11 and too young to have her own. Photos show a bright, bubbly girl modeling evening dresses, high-end workout gear and dance leotards. She has more than 100,000 followers, some so enthusiastic about her posts that they pay $9.99 a month for more photos.

Over the years, Elissa has fielded all kinds of criticism and knows full well that some people think she is exploiting her daughter. She has even gotten used to receiving creepy messages, but these — from “Instamodelfan” — were extreme. “I think they’re all pedophiles,” she said of the many online followers obsessed with her daughter and other young girls.

Elissa and her daughter inhabit the world of Instagram influencers whose accounts are managed by their parents. Although the site prohibits children under 13, parents can open so-called mom-run accounts for them, and they can live on even when the girls become teenagers.

But what often starts as a parent’s effort to jump-start a child’s modeling career, or win favors from clothing brands, can quickly descend into a dark underworld dominated by adult men, many of whom openly admit on other platforms to being sexually attracted to children, an investigation by The New York Times found. 

For this investigation, the reporters analyzed 2.1 million Instagram posts, monitored months of online chats of professed pedophiles and interviewed over 100 people, including parents and children.

Thousands of accounts examined by The Times offer disturbing insights into how social media is reshaping childhood, especially for girls, with direct parental encouragement and involvement. Some parents are the driving force behind the sale of photos, exclusive chat sessions and even the girls’ worn leotards and cheer outfits to mostly unknown followers. The most devoted customers spend thousands of dollars nurturing the underage relationships.

The large audiences boosted by men can benefit the families, The Times found. The bigger followings look impressive to brands and bolster chances of getting discounts, products and other financial incentives, and the accounts themselves are rewarded by Instagram’s algorithm with greater visibility on the platform, which in turn attracts more followers.

One calculation performed by an audience demographics firm found 32 million connections to male followers among the 5,000 accounts examined by The Times.

Interacting with the men opens the door to abuse. Some flatter, bully and blackmail girls and their parents to get racier and racier images. The Times monitored separate exchanges on Telegram, the messaging app, where men openly fantasize about sexually abusing the children they follow on Instagram and extol the platform for making the images so readily available.

“It’s like a candy store 😍😍😍,” one of them wrote. “God bless instamoms 🙌,” wrote another.

The troubling interactions on Instagram come as social media companies increasingly dominate the cultural landscape and the internet is seen as a career path of its own.

Nearly one in three preteens lists influencing as a career goal, and 11 percent of those born in Generation Z, between 1997 and 2012, describe themselves as influencers. The so-called creator economy surpasses $250 billion worldwide, according to Goldman Sachs, with U.S. brands spending more than $5 billion a year on influencers.

Health and technology experts have recently cautioned that social media presents a “profound risk of harm” for girls. Constant comparisons to their peers and face-altering filters are driving negative feelings of self-worth and promoting objectification of their bodies, researchers found.

But the pursuit of online fame, particularly through Instagram, has supercharged the often toxic phenomenon, The Times found, encouraging parents to commodify their children’s images. Some of the child influencers earn six-figure incomes, according to interviews.

“I really don’t want my child exploited on the internet,” said Kaelyn, a mother in Melbourne, Australia, who like Elissa and many other parents interviewed by The Times agreed to be identified only by a middle name to protect the privacy of her child.

“But she’s been doing this so long now,” she said. “Her numbers are so big. What do we do? Just stop it and walk away?”

In investigating this growing and unregulated ecosystem, The Times analyzed 2.1 million Instagram posts, monitored months of online chats of professed pedophiles and reviewed thousands of pages of police reports and court documents.

Reporters also interviewed more than 100 people, including parents in the United States and three other countries, their children, child safety experts, tech company employees and followers of the accounts, some of whom were convicted sex offenders.

This is how The Times found its sample of 5,000 mom-run accounts.

The accounts range from dancers whose mothers diligently cull men from the ranks of followers, to girls in skimpy bikinis whose parents actively encourage male admirers and sell them special photo sets. While there are some mom-run accounts for boys, they are the exception.

Some girls on Instagram use their social media clout to get little more than clothing discounts; others receive gifts from Amazon wish lists, or money through Cash App; and still others earn thousands of dollars a month by selling subscriptions with exclusive content.

In interviews and online comments, parents said that their children enjoyed being on social media or that it was important for a future career. But some expressed misgivings. Kaelyn, whose daughter is now 17, said she worried that a childhood spent sporting bikinis online for adult men had scarred her.

“She’s written herself off and decided that the only way she’s going to have a future is to make a mint on OnlyFans,” she said, referring to a website that allows users to sell adult content to subscribers. “She has way more than that to offer.”

She warned mothers not to make their children social media influencers. “With the wisdom and knowledge I have now, if I could go back, I definitely wouldn’t do it,” she said. “I’ve been stupidly, naïvely, feeding a pack of monsters, and the regret is huge.”

Account owners who report explicit images or potential predators to Instagram are typically met with silence or indifference, and those who block many abusers have seen their own accounts’ ability to use certain features limited, according to the interviews and documents. In the course of eight months, The Times made over 50 reports of its own about questionable material and received only one response.

Meta, Instagram’s parent company, found that 500,000 child Instagram accounts had “inappropriate” interactions every day, according to an internal study in 2020 quoted in legal proceedings.

In a statement to The Times, Andy Stone, a Meta spokesman, said that parents were responsible for the accounts and their content and could delete them anytime.

“Anyone on Instagram can control who is able to tag, mention or message them, as well as who can comment on their account,” Mr. Stone added, noting a feature that allows parents to ban comments with certain words. “On top of that, we prevent accounts exhibiting potentially suspicious behavior from using our monetization tools, and we plan to limit such accounts from accessing subscription content.”

Influencers use TikTok, too, but Instagram is easier for parents to navigate and better suited to the kinds of photos that brands want. It is also home to a longstanding network of parents and brands that predated TikTok.

From time to time, Instagram removes child-influencer accounts for unspecified reasons or because people flag them as inappropriate, The Times found. In extreme cases, parents and photographers have been arrested or convicted of child exploitation, but barring evidence of illegal images, most of the activity does not draw the attention of law enforcement.

Like many parents, Elissa, who received the threatening messages about her daughter’s photos, said she protected her daughter by handling the account exclusively herself. Ultimately, she concluded, the Instagram community is dominated by “disgusting creeps,” but she nonetheless keeps the account up and running. Shutting it down, she said, would be “giving in to bullies.”

The account’s risks became apparent last spring when the person messaging her threatened to report her to the police and others unless she completed “a small task.” When she did not respond, the person emailed the girl’s school, saying Elissa sold “naughty” pictures to pedophiles.

Days later, the girl tearfully explained to her mother that school officials had questioned her about the Instagram account. They showed her images that her mother had posted — one of the girl in hot pants and fishnets, another in a leotard and sweatshirt.

Elissa had reported the blackmail to the local sheriff, but school officials only dropped the matter after an emotional interrogation of the girl.

“I was crying,” the girl said in an interview. “I was just scared. I didn’t understand what was going on.”

‘Walking Advertising’

In today’s creator economy, companies often turn to social media influencers to attract new customers. Giants like Kim Kardashian, who has 364 million followers on Instagram, have turned the phenomenon into a big business.

Young girls strive to do the same.

In the dance and gymnastics worlds, teens and preteens jockey to become brand ambassadors for products and apparel. They don bikinis in Instagram posts, walk runways in youth fashion shows and offer paid subscriptions to videos showing the everyday goings-on of children seeking internet fame.

“We costumed somebody for ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ thinking that would be huge P.R., but we ended up finding out the bigger return on investment is these microinfluencers,” she said. “We have parents that will spend thousands of dollars to buy styles that no one else will have. That’s our best market.”

The most successful girls can demand $3,000 from their sponsors for a single post on Instagram, but monetary gain can be elusive for others, who receive free or discounted clothes in exchange for their posts and have to pay for their own hairstyling and makeup, among other costs. Even youth fashion shows, including events in New York that coincide but are not affiliated with New York Fashion Week, charge the girls to participate and charge their parents to attend.

In interviews, parents defended spending the money to promote their daughters’ influencer ambitions, describing them as extracurricular activities that build confidence, develop friendships and create social media résumés that will follow them into adulthood.

“It’s like a little security blanket,” said a New Jersey mother whose mom-run account has led to paid modeling jobs for her daughter and invitations to work with sought-after choreographers. “She can help pay for college if she does it right,” she said.

A mother in Alabama said parents couldn’t ignore the reality of this new economy.

“Social media is the way of our future, and I feel like they’ll be behind if they don’t know what’s going on,” the mother said. “You can’t do anything without it now.”

One 12-year-old girl in Maryland, who spoke with The Times alongside her mother, described the thrill of seeing other girls she knows wear a brand she represents in Instagram posts.

“People are actually being influenced by me,” she said.

In 2022, Instagram launched paid subscriptions, which allows followers to pay a monthly fee for exclusive content and access. The rules don’t allow subscriptions for anyone under 18, but the mom-run accounts sidestep that restriction. The Times found dozens that charged from 99 cents to $19.99. At the highest price, parents offered “ask me anything” chat sessions and behind-the-scenes photos.

Child safety experts warn the subscriptions and other features could lead to unhealthy interactions, with men believing they have a special connection to the girls and the girls believing they must meet the men’s needs.

“I have reservations about a child feeling like they have to satisfy either adults in their orbit or strangers who are asking something from them,” said Sally Theran, a professor at Wellesley College and clinical psychologist who studies online relationships. “It’s really hard to give consent to that when your frontal lobe isn’t fully developed.”

Instagram isn’t alone in the subscription business. Some parents promote other platforms on their mom-run accounts. One of them, Brand Army, caters to adult influencers but also has “junior channel” parent-run subscriptions ranging from free to $250 monthly.

“Message me anytime. You will have more opportunities for buying and receiving super exclusive content😘,” read a description for a $25 subscription to a minor’s account. For $100 a month, subscribers can get “live interactive video chats,” unlimited direct messages and a mention on the girl’s Instagram story.

The Times subscribed to several accounts to glean what content is being offered and how much money is being made. On one account, 141 subscribers liked a photo only available to those who paid $100 monthly, indicating over $14,000 in subscription revenue.

Some of the descriptions also highlight the revealing nature of photos. One account for a child around 14 years old encouraged new sign-ups at the end of last year by branding the days between Christmas and New Year’s as “Bikini Week.” An account for a 17-year-old girl advertised that she wasn’t wearing underwear in a workout photo set and, as a result, the images were “uh … a lot spicier than usual.”

The girl’s “Elite VIP” subscription costs $250 a month.

Brand Army’s founder, Ramon Mendez, said that junior-channel users were a minority on his platform and that moderating their pages had grown so problematic that he discontinued new sign-ups.

“We’ve removed thousands of pieces of content,” he said. “The parents’ behavior is just disgusting. We don’t want to be part of it.”

‘The Wealth of the Wicked’

“You are so sexy,” read one comment on an image of a 5-year-old girl in a ruffled bikini. “Those two little things look great thru ur top,” said another on a video of a girl dancing in a white cropped shirt, who months later posted pictures of her 11th birthday party.

For many mom-run accounts, comments from men — admiring, suggestive or explicit — are a recurring scourge to be eradicated, or an inescapable fact of life to be ignored. For others, they are a source to be tapped.

“The first thing I do when I wake up and the last thing I do when I go to bed is block accounts,” said Lynn, the mother of a 6-year-old girl in Florida who has about 3,000 followers from the dance world.

Another mother, Gail from Texas, described being desensitized to the men’s messages. “I don’t have as much of an emotional response anymore,” she said. “It’s weird to be so numb to that, but the quantity is just astounding.”

Meta does not provide public information about who uses Instagram, so The Times analyzed data from the audience firms Modash and HypeAuditor, which estimate follower demographics based on their own algorithms.

The proportion of male followers varied greatly in The Times’s sample, according to the estimates. Many accounts had a few thousand followers who were mostly female. But while men accounted for about 35 percent of the audience overall, their presence grew dramatically as accounts became more popular. Many with more than 100,000 followers had a male audience of over 75 percent, and a few of them over 90 percent, the analysis showed.

To be sure, not all men following the accounts have bad intentions. Some are grandparents and fathers of the young influencers. Many have inoffensive profiles and simply post compliments or greetings, and mothers react appreciatively.

“In responding or even hitting ‘like’ on it, it boosts your algorithm,” said a mother in Florida whose 16-year-old daughter has been an Instagram influencer for six years. “We tried shutting comments off at one point, and some of the brands didn’t like that.”

Brands that feature children from mom-run accounts face similar challenges.

Dean Stockton, who runs a small clothing company in Florida called Original Hippie, often features girls from the Instagram accounts, who earn a commission when customers use personalized discount codes. After initially deleting many male followers, he now sees them as a way to grow the account and give it a wider audience because the platform rewards large followings.

“The Bible says, ‘The wealth of the wicked is laid up for the righteous,’” he said. “So sometimes you got to use the things of this world to get you to where you need to be, as long as it’s not harming anybody.”

Mr. Stockton said he deleted male followers who were disrespectful or sexual in their interactions. An examination by The Times of the three dozen brands that are popular among mom-run accounts found inappropriate, predatory or pornographic followers in almost all of the brands’ accounts, including Original Hippie.

Many of the men posted pornography, or their bios included sexual language and emojis that child protection experts say pedophiles can use to signal interest in children. For instance, one follower of a children’s dance wear brand described himself as a “thong & anl sx lover.” A user named “sexy_69nazi” followed a children’s apparel company and exclusively posted pornography.

Chixit, a brand selling swimwear and other clothing, describes itself as “an International Sorority,” but business records show that it was run by Philip Russo, who advertised himself as a tutor operating out of his home in the Hudson Valley of New York. Other websites registered to Mr. Russo’s email are a tutoring business and inactive domain names describing sex with animals.

After The Times reached out to Mr. Russo, the website for his tutoring business went offline. He did not respond to multiple messages seeking comment.

‘Girls Become a Currency’

The vast world of child-influencer followers on Instagram includes men who have been charged with or convicted of sex crimes, and those who engage in forums off platform where child sexual abuse imagery, including of girls on Instagram, is shared.

The Times traced the account of one follower, who goes by the moniker “jizzquizz,” to a man named Joshua V. Rubel, 39. He was convicted in 2008 of sexually assaulting a 15-year-old girl and is listed on the New Jersey sex offender registry. (Instagram’s policy bars sex offenders from using the platform, and the company said it removed two accounts after The Times pointed them out.)

Another account belongs to Daniel Duane Huver, a man in Lansing, Mich., who told law enforcement in 2018 that he had “top fan status” on girls’ pages, a designation bestowed by Instagram’s sister company, Facebook. The police searched Mr. Huver’s cellphone after it was confiscated by his probation officer and found hundreds of images and videos of children, including many considered inappropriate and sexually suggestive and two believed to be illegal (showing minors engaged in explicit acts.)

Mr. Huver told officers he was sexually attracted to children and masturbated to images of them, according to police records. He was charged with possession of child sexual abuse material, but the prosecutor in Eaton County later dropped charges, citing insufficient evidence because of the poor quality of the imagery.

Mr. Rubel did not respond to requests for comment. Mr. Huver said that the police mischaracterized his words and that the lack of prosecution was evidence he had done nothing wrong.

In monitoring multiple Telegram chat rooms, The Times found men who treat children’s Instagram pages and subscription services as menus to satisfy their fantasies. They trade information about parents considered receptive to producing and selling “private sets” of images.

A group with more than 4,000 members was highly organized, with an F.A.Q. page and a Google sheet that tracked nearly 700 children, identifying them by hashtags to help members find them within the long chat history. The group’s logo showed a child’s hand in an adult hand.

The Times asked the Canadian Center for Child Protection, an organization that monitors online child exploitation, to review links and other potentially illegal material posted by the Telegram groups and elsewhere. The center identified child sexual abuse imagery involving multiple underage Instagram models from around the world, as well as sexualized videos of others, including a preteen girl wearing a thong and a young teenager raising her dress to show her bikini bottom.

Men in these groups frequently praise the advent of Instagram as a golden age for child exploitation.

“I’m so glad for these new moms pimping their daughters out,” wrote one of them. “And there’s an infinite supply of it — literally just refresh your Instagram Explore page there’s fresh preteens.”

A small group of men go even further and cultivate business and patronage relationships with mothers.

One man posts videos and photos on Instagram of girls thanking him for shopping sprees, gifts like iPhones and iPads, and cash. If he does not receive a message of gratitude quickly, he sometimes shames the mother and daughter on his private Instagram account.

Another makes recommendations about increasing visibility by using specific hashtags and photographers. But two mothers said they became suspicious, and stopped working with the man, after he suggested they make certain their daughters’ nipples and other private areas could be detected through their outfits.

A third man tried to persuade a mother to sell her daughter’s used leotards because many men, including himself, were “collectors,” according to a recording of the conversation.

“In retrospect I feel like such a stupid mom, but I’m not stupid,” said a mother of a young gymnast, who dealt with similar men before she realized they were predators and received threatening messages from several of them. “I didn’t understand what grooming was.”

Sometimes the men flirt or try to develop virtual romances with mothers, offer to protect them and become possessive and angry if they interact with other men.

“It’s almost like the girls become a currency,” said the gymnast’s mother, who did not want to be named.

This feeling of ownership and jealousy can drive attempts at blackmail, The Times found.

Instamodelfan, who sent threatening messages to Elissa, sent blackmail threats to at least five other mom-run accounts. When one mother responded, he demanded that she sexually abuse her child and send him photos and videos, emails to the mother show. She refused and contacted law enforcement.

The Times communicated with a person identified on Telegram as Instamodelfan who said that he lashed out at the mothers because he believed other men got illegal images of children and he wanted them for himself.

Reporters also received information from an anonymous tipster, who they later found was linked to the blackmailer, indicating that some parents had produced explicit imagery of their daughters.

The Canadian center reviewed the imagery and said it included illegal nude photos of two girls. One girl’s mother said she was shaken to learn of the photos and did not know who could have made them. The other girl, now 17, said in an interview that the photos were for her and a girlfriend and that she told law enforcement that they had been stolen.

Others images either were borderline illegal, were too poor quality to be conclusive or were digitally altered, the center said.

Several mothers who had been identified by the tipster said they reached out to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, which, they said, had conducted an investigation. The F.B.I. declined to comment.

Ultimately, the gymnast’s mother said, a federal agent told them to stop talking to men online.

“They told everyone to get off Instagram,” she said. “‘You’re in over your head. Get off.’ That’s what they told us.”

‘My Limit of Pedophiles’

Meta failed to act on multiple reports made by parents and even restricted those who tried to police their own followers, according to interviews and materials provided by the parents.

If parents block too many followers’ accounts in a day, Meta curtails their ability to block or follow others, they said.

“I remember being told, like, I’ve reached my limit,” said a mother of two dancers in Arizona who declined to be named. “Like what? I reached my limit of pedophiles for today. OK, great.”

Mr. Stone, the Meta spokesman, said “there are lots of reasons an account might face limitations or restrictions based the account’s activity,” and therefore it was difficult to know why parents encountered these problems.

Ms. Pastore of LA Dance Designs said it was “very much overdue” for Instagram to add the ability to filter by age and sex to help identify suspicious followers. “If you’re starting to gain a following, there needs to be some sort of way to control it,” she said.

Even some egregious violations led to no action by Meta.

One parent reported a photo of erect male genitalia sent in a direct message. Another reported an account that reposted children’s photos with explicit captions. A third reported a user who propositioned her child for sex, offering $65,000 for “an hour” with the girl.

In response to those three reports, Meta said either that the communications did not violate “community guidelines” or that its staff did not have time to review them. In other cases, Meta told parents that it relied on its “technology” to determine the content was “probably” not a violation.

Separately, The Times found comments that included links to sites identified by the Canadian center as trading illegal, nude imagery of children. None of those reports received a response from Meta.

Former Meta trust and safety employees described an organization overwhelmed despite knowing about the problem for years.

“You hear, ‘I reported this account, it was harassing my daughter, why is he back?’” said a former investigator for the company who requested anonymity. “There are not enough people, resources and systems to tackle all of it.”

In recent years, conspiracy theories like QAnon, which claims Democratic politicians are trafficking children, have led to an excess of unfounded reports that have muddled the evaluation of child abuse tips, three former Meta trust and safety employees said.

A 2020 document that surfaced in a lawsuit described child safety as a “non-goal” at Meta. “If we do something here, cool,” the document said. “But if we do nothing at all, that’s fine too.” The lawsuit was brought against Meta and other companies claiming damage from using social media. Lawyers for the plaintiffs declined to provide more information about the document.

In documents from 2018 included in a separate lawsuit making similar claims of harm, a top Facebook executive told Instagram’s chief executive that unless changes were made, Facebook and Instagram were “basically massive ‘victim discovery services,’” an allusion to the considerable evidence of abuse on the platforms.

Mr. Stone, the Meta spokesman, disputed the suggestion that the trust team was understaffed and underfunded, saying that 40,000 employees worked on safety and security and that the company had invested $20 billion in such efforts since 2016. He also referred to a previous statement about the lawsuits, saying they “mischaracterize our work using selective quotes and cherry-picked documents.”

In addition, he noted that Meta reported more suspected child abuse imagery to the authorities than any other company each year. In December, it announced plans to encrypt its messaging services, which would reduce the reports.

‘It’s All Over Instagram’

Experts in child protection and development say young people should never be made to have negative feelings about their bodies. But clothing that is appropriate in a gym or dance competition may take on an unintended meaning when shared online.

Children’s dance attire regularly features strappy bra tops, sheer fabric and bikini bottoms, and popular cheer outfits combine sports bras with little skirts — part of a long-term trend toward more revealing clothing for girls.

“In the dance world we’re in, they’re half naked all the time and their legs are in the air,” said a mother in Massachusetts who declined to be named. “And if you’re not used to seeing that, maybe it’s different.”

Lynn, whose granddaughter in Texas is an ambassador for a cheerleading brand, said there was no logic to the reactions her posts received. Photos of the girl’s feet attract the most extreme comments, she said. “You can’t stop weird people, I guess.”

Still, many of the would-be influencers suffer. In some instances criticism of the posts, and accompanying bullying, becomes so severe that mothers turn to home-schooling.

“She got slaughtered all through primary school,” said Kaelyn, the mother in Melbourne. “Children were telling her, ‘We can’t play with you because my mom said too many perverts follow you on the internet.’”

In the United States, parents have substantial leeway in making decisions about their children. But people who suspect illegal behavior on Instagram quickly discover that the authorities are overwhelmed and typically focus on the clearest-cut cases.

Even the most unsettling images of sexualized child influencers tend to fall into a legal gray area. To meet the federal definition of so-called child pornography, the law generally requires a “lascivious exhibition” of the anal or genital area, though courts have found the requirement can be met without nudity or sheer clothing.

There have been criminal prosecutions against parents accused in child sexual abuse cases.

In Louisiana last year, a mother was arrested and charged with working with a photographer to produce illegal images of her daughter in a thong bikini. In Texas, a mother was sentenced to 32 years in prison in December for producing nude photos of her 8-year-old daughter with the same photographer. And in North Carolina, a mother is awaiting trial on charges that she took her 15-year-old daughter to a photographer who sexually abused her and she failed to get medical help when the girl tried to kill herself, according to court documents.

Still, those prosecutions are rare, and some male followers of the mom-run accounts openly welcome the windfall.

“As long as this stuff legally exists, I just enjoy it :),” one of them wrote on Telegram.

“Exactly,” another responded. “It’s all over Instagram.”

[norieoncrack]

𝙐𝙠𝙞𝙮𝙤

(n): living in the moment, detached from the bothers of life.

“𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚃𝚎𝚢𝚟𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛.”

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluf-ish, mainly Yandere (series)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Furina

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞: On

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: Series

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬: She/they (mainly they)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Oh gods who watch over thee, I want to see you, curse me of my wish, the reward I want after such a long time..

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Sagau, poor English (not my first language), 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫. Major 4.2 spoilers

Waking up in a world you do not recognize your head spins as you stood up slowly, was it painful to feel the scars on your body dripping with blood and scratches? How did this happen to you?

You could barely moved as the sun kept on burning your skin, the harsh sun… as you finally had enough strength to cry the clouds had blocked the sun allowing the winds to blow once more. You could feel that you were in a grassland, slowly standing up while still in pain your body ache as if you had been hit by a truck of some sort.

With each step you took the pain became more unbearable, but what else could you do but reach for the waters infront of you?

Where were you? After the blur you called your memory there was nothing you could recall with so much pain, your blood mixed with the waters as your hand finally reaches it.

Who were you? That you still could remember, your name was (Y/n), unsure of what to do you continue laying down next to the river hoping you would be saved by some miracle.

What brought you to this place? You could only remember bright lights and the painful agonizing sounds of your bones breaking, though it seems your body wasn’t completely mutilated if your still moving perfectly fine.

Why were you here? As you slipped into the world of dreams, someone sings of a return, a gentle hand caressed your hair as you feel deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Teyvat’s skies cried for the return of a god who died oh so long ago, elemental beings have gone insane searching for the energy of their creator, beauty in all of its grace the waters of Teyvat carried that of blood, your red blood which was unable to mix with the waters.

Teyvat hears of your cries, scratches as you fell from the skies, a star brighter than that of its future, your arrival only meant one thing for Teyvat… your presence meant that change was coming. There was no time left for the elemental beings, they have no choice but to find and track you down immediately, wherever you were.

The waters which carried your blood seemed to have been brought to life… this was the gift of the creator it seems, the gift of life. With the little strength and form it had, the waters reached for the court of Fontaine, and it knew who exactly to find.

Water carries the memories of all living beings, though uncertain of the future it knows the past like a book that has been told over and over again. Furina though not the Hydro Archon, still has a vision, something that ties her to the name of Hydro once more, despite still healing and getting used to her new life she can't seem to let go of certain things.

Back when Furina was the Hydro Archon, more correctly acting Hydro Archon, she hated doing the rituals for the creator, Furina didn't really have anything against the creators it was just... she couldn't understand the meaning behind the sacrificing, it didn't seem nor feel right. While the other duties are tedious and she hates it, what she couldn’t handle was the blood curling screams and crimson red on the ritual that were meant to serve the almighty creator. It was the only task about being an Archon that gave her nightmares over and over again…

Resting in a bathtub filled with water, Furina ponders on what to do for the rest of the day, she should she make something for dinner? Explore the wilderness or just sleep for the rest of the day? Honestly now that she’s a normal person she doesn’t know what to do.

Water from the faucet kept on dripping, curious and pulled out from her thoughts Furina walked over to see if there was a leak of some sort. Cold to the touch as always, maybe she should have learned to get used to the freezing cold waters, trying to tighten the faucet to prevent it from leaking Furina had the surprise of her life when the faucet suddenly bursted.

“What the-?!” Blood mixed within the waters disappears once more, it truly didn’t have enough time to call out to Furina to help you…

“Tch… I have to call the plumber again for this..” cutting her shower short, Furina put on her clothes and decided to go for a stroll outside of the court… unaware of what she’ll meet later on.

Slimy… strangely wet and slimy… you were next to a bunch of hydro slimes. Now you would have freaked out, but your still in pain and is dying really slowly, basically if you move you die but with pain, if you don’t move you’ll still die but in a less painful way.

Now that you’ve gotten your painful situation out of the way you needed a recap on your situation, specifically how you came to Teyvat in the first place and why your body had been torn up like some rag doll on the side of the road.

*mystical rewind time noises*

*Car crash noises*

That basically explains it, what? Were you expecting to remember everything in detail? If you could then maybe you would have an answer to what the heck was going right now.

Aight, aight, you were in a truck accident, a very sudden one too. Bleeding out on the side road you could only remember a handful of incantations from somewhere along with the call an ambulance from other horrified by passers.

Something tells you that you happen to coincidentally get hit by a truck and reincarnated into a different world you totally didn’t read about before.

*mystical back to the present noises*

You’re still in the dirt but there wasn’t any more blood flowing from your wounds, the hydro slimes seemed to have taken care of you while you were on the ground almost dead. You try to sit up only to have a wet and heavy blob of small hydro slime above you making a sort of cute and weird sounds, convinced by its cuteness you lay there being huddled by the slimes.

“Why are you guys such cuties? Hm? Who gave you the right to act cute and all.” You could barely lift your hands, but once you did you just used them to gently squish the little slime on top of your body.

"You're acting much differently than I remember any enemy would" You felt like a child receiving a doll for your birthday, you wanna squish and make all sorts of adjustments to it yet you couldn't because that would ruin it.

You were in a cave of some sort, and lots of bodies of water seemed to be nearby since you heard of lots of water dripping, if anything though you think the hydro slimes might have kidnapped you into their home. You were able to move normally again after some time, the slimes led you outside of the cave... which turned out to be underwater, oh boy, better hope you can dive or else you're becoming fish food, that said though how did these slimes even brought you here?

Whatever happened though doesn’t really concerned you as much anymore, at least not as much as your Melusine problem right now.

“You have a pretty soul” accompanied by the slimes who helped you, the Melusines were like children playing around with your hair under water, well they are children in a way.

“Don’t bother them too much, look at those wounds! Let’s take them somewhere else!” The slimes looked trouble seeing you go, you didn’t really felt like leaving but, you were running out of breath and had no choice but to follow the Melusines.

Beautiful creatures, Teyvat was truly a world you never thought you’d see before, no, you have seen this world somehow and somewhere… while your past is still blurry and your body in pain you had no choice but to keep running.

For a tomorrow you fear won’t exist, this beautiful world is too dangerous for you, too dangerous for a human who can’t even defend themself.

Something didn’t feel right to Furina… why wasn’t anyone commenting on the strange behavior of the sea animals? Or how most of the Hydro slimes have disappeared? Even stranger was the waters of Fontaine growing… stronger?

There was something that didn’t feel right, somehow there was no one else noticing this, now she could go and tell someone about it, but who would believe someone who lied about being an archon? The people despise her, Neuvillette too busy to talk to her, Clorinde no longer had a reason to protect or be there for her, let’s not even discuss about Wriothesley or the children from the House of Hearth.

Furina had two choices, either go investigate what’s going on by herself and risk getting hurt, or she could pretend that nothing is wrong and return home once more. However how could she go back now that she’s already out of the city and following where the winds take her?

What a bothersome day… why did she decided to visit Elynas of all places? It was too quiet… too quiet near the statue of the seven, too quite near the pond of murky waters, too quite for there was a trail of blood on the ground.

Surely any sane person would have turned around and run away right? Surely she who knows of her limits, despite being gifted with a vision not too long ago knows that whatever had happened here could potentially hurt her right? So then why..?

“Let’s just go and see what happens… whoever is hurt I have to help them first” was she acting like a hero when all of her life she’s been a coward. “What are you doing Furina…?”

Jumping into the murky waters mixed with blood of a bright red, she can’t feel but be suffocating, there was too much blood and she was so scared… what if the person she wants to help has already died because of some monster?

Elynas, the remains of a dead god seems to have been revived in away, enemies rose, waters grew harsher, as if something was causing it, something was influencing the world. However when Furina looked closer at their behaviors, it seemed as though they were guarding something rather than looking out for enemies.

The blood trail though faint leads deeper into Elynas’ underground caverns, hydro crystalflies distracted the guards just long enough for Furina to slip by, was it fate or a coincidence?

“Now now you shouldn’t be moving too much, dear Creator. Your injuries are not that easy to heal” You winced at the pain as the Melusines applied medicine onto you.

“Creator? You must be mistaken, I’m only a normal human.” Truthfully you weren’t sure why were being called Creator by the Melusines, it just doesn’t make sense.

“Oh don’t be silly, us Melusines seeing things differently than the average normal human, you know that your Grace.” You knew, almost everything about the Melusines, from their father the dead Elynas who watches over them to the tragic tale of Carole, but this isn’t the evidence to prove that you were the “Creator”.

Furina, who had been eavesdropping the conversation between you and a Melusine, felt shocked to have heard of those blasphemy words, even though she wasn’t a loyal follower or believer of the Creator, she was still a believer, was she to believe that the Creator has returned or was she to execute a potentially imposter?

“Cosanzeana, I understand where you’re coming from but I just don’t think it’s possible for me to be the Creator.” Cosanzeana sighs at you still trying to hide your identity, why couldn’t you trust them? The Melusines know who you are so why are you trying to convince them and yourself that you were someone else?

“Your grace, we hope you can trust us enough to let your guard down for a while.” You were no Creator, just a person who had a hobby in daydreaming and dancing, just someone who got pushed into a world they aren’t even that familiar with, memories of the times they sat down and have fun…

“I need a moment…” you felt suffocated, wasn’t this a familiar scene?

How ironic, you used to hope to be someone who could leave a mark to a world, to be the shinning light many others would follow yet those hopes were crushed by reality’s cruel and harsh hands, they were burnt to the ground by those who you called family, they were forsaken by you who chose to move on. So then why?

Why when you no longer had the spark of life did these wishes came? Why are you suddenly given tasks you didn’t ask for? To be chosen for a role you have no interest for, why in death were you not allowed to rest?

You ran away from village Merusea, you’re feeling overwhelmed oh so overwhelmed, your body is still in pain so you couldn’t even walk two steps without breathing like you’ve ran a marathon, your mind a mess ever since you arrived in the supposed Teyvat, did you even have a moment to yourself?

“I hate it… I hate it… I hate it” on and on your tears began to fall, why were you being treated so unfairly? Why were you the one who had to die only to live again with a fate that you never even asked for. “Why me?!”

Still there was no answer, what were you even hoping for? Who could hear your cries and reply to you? You had no one in this lonely and dying world, Teyvat was not your home… no matter how much you used to think it was.

Furina how silently followed you pitied you, confused and not understanding of your role, a god who doesn’t even knows that they’re a god but then again, do the gods even bleed as red as you do? Messed up hair, dirty clothes, bruised and scared body wrapped in bandages, you looked too fragile to be a god of any sort.

She could be wrong and an idiot, she could be right and a genius, that was who Furina was, a great actor who wished to do nothing more than to be who she truly wanted to be. Even though she no longer had to play any role or put up any front it hurried her for some reason to see someone who was put into a situation similar to hers.

She doesn’t even know you, someone who was injured and somewhat helped by Melusines, someone who lived a life of pain, someone who still stands even when the pain was eating them alive. Yet for some reason, she couldn’t help but step closer to you, the warmth she found whenever the Traveler began talking to her... she felt it on you.

"Who are you?" You noticed their presences for a while already, not very good at hiding it either since you had already caught a glimpse of them as you ran away from the village.

“…” Furina didn’t know what to say, you kept on looking away, why weren't you turning around to see her? Aren't you supposed to be a little curious about who she is?

" It's okay if you don't want to say anything..." being human was a curse in its own way, but what does that make you, the one who they claimed to be the creator, what about you? “I’ll take a lucky guess and say, Furina.”

“…My name is quite popular among the people of Fontaine, I’m not surprised that it wouldn’t reach the ears of the likes of yours” ah, so it was actually Furina’s. “H-However I do believe the Melusines are wrong.. you don’t seem to look like the almighty Creator.”

“Do you pity me, Furina?” In all honesty you’re a bit glad it was Furina who found you out of everyone, it wasn’t just because she was your favorite, it was also because out of all the people, you assumed she’d be the most understanding.

“…I can’t tell if I do..” that was more than enough for you to tell, Teyvat right now… has passed the current 4.2 update, you have no idea if this means that the traveler will enter Natlan or is still adventuring in Fontaine, you can’t be too sure.

“You can’t tell everything by just looking at the back, even though I’m at my most vulnerable moment.” You turned around to face the seemingly stunned and quiet Furina. “See? I’m no god, just an ordinary looking person, a person who people call god…”

Furina who originally stared at you in contempt had soften her angry glares, however she can’t help but feel anxious, she couldn’t trust you so easily even now that she’s seen your face. You truly looked like anyone else, maybe for some prominent features like your bold (e/c) and the scratches that littered your face.

Teyvat had long forgotten the face of its creator, only a lullaby they once sang remained in the hearts of the creatures, there was no way to prove if you were the creator or not. A light and calmed voice laced with pain, perhaps that was the voice of which Furina had heard before, warmth and the feeling of being embraced coursed through her.

“I- I want you to sing for me.” You widen your eyes a bit shocked by the request, you were no singer per-say so it baffles you to be asked to sing, you didn’t know what song to sing either.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t-“ “Just this once, can you sing? I want to, no, I have to confirm something.” Heterochromia blue eyes burning with passion, it felt ridiculous for Furina, it was ridiculous this situation.

“…One small part, but after that you have to get me out of Elynas and take care of my injuries.” Was it a good idea to trust Furina? She wasn’t as dangerous as other vision users, but she could betray you and turn you in.

“I promise”

Long ago in the forgotten first lands of Teyvat, the Creator in they benevolence created the first beings, creatures of a splitting image of the Creator were born. Caring for them like children, the Creator sang and gave life to them, the lullaby of Teyvatians, the song of the beginning.

Furina remembers the tales which are as old as time, a god who no longer was remembered for what they looked like and instead for their voice. The Creator, the one who had been asleep for a while, there was a time she questioned if the said god was still even alive?

“When good old friends are going away

Will you wish them to remember your name?

When good old days are passing away

Will you promise your heart remains the same?”

It’s painful to start singing the only song you knew by heart, you learnt the words and rhythm, knew what it was like when the song was sung, maybe that was why when you started singing your heart ache as old memories started opening up.

“Never could we suspend the time

Having to leave the tracks behind

There is a longer way ahead after all”

There it was again… the warmth she felt as she looked towards the sky, the strange feeling of embrace and comfort each time she talked to the Traveler, and now it’s you, your eyes and expressions are telling her a story, one that she doesn’t quite understand yet.

“Furina… I hope you forgive for this.. forget me.”

She can’t seem to remember, she can’t seem to understand, the reason why her tears are falling, the ache she felt now that she’s feeling the warmth you have given her. However… it was more than enough for Furina, your singing and that beautiful expression you’re wearing, even as you yourself are crying, Furina could hear the sincerity, a voice she had long forgotten.

“Do you think we’ll ever meet again?” She held their hand as their blood spread across the white and pale sands, the end of a samsara… is the beginning of another, memories fades.

“Maybe..” the flowers in their shared home has wilted, the journey ending after living for so long, what happened? The question which will never be answered.

“I don’t want you to go!” Fate brought them together, yet it will also tear them apart once more when it deems the stage can still go on for much longer.

“If it’s too hard to say goodbye” A weak hand reaching out to wipe the stray tears away from her face, despite the red blood trail it leaves behind in the progress. A weak smile to mask the painful separation.

“Give us a chance to sing a rhyme” With that the world falls silent once more… the end which happens every *** years, like a dream which you can no longer remember, everything fades to wake up on a morning that washes away the remnants of yesterday.

Oh beloved Creator… why have you abandoned the person who needed you the most?

Jdbdkxndbfix this took so long T^T

Thank for reading the beginning of my series, master list will be added soon

Please reblog + like if you liked it ;-;

[sagau-my-beloved]

Death At The Hands Of A God Pt. 2

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you're resurrected after being killed (by Venti), not really angst but not really comfort or fluff either

-

Death was not as dark or empty as you had come to expect...

Was this death? Or maybe something in between—

Yes, that seemed like a better way to describe what you were experiencing, something in between real and unreal, existence and nothingness.

You couldn't think, see, feel, anything, as if you were simply a disembodied form of consciousness, waiting.

For what?

You didn't possess that answer, nor the ability to even contemplate the question. If you had the ability to think, you would have wondered briefly if this was what the characters you played as experienced when falling in battle, a void detached from both time and space.

This state of mere existence didn't last long, or, perhaps, it did. Perhaps it lasted many lifetimes, eons upon eons. It's not as if you would have recognized the difference, no different than how time passed when asleep.

You were pulled passively away, out of that void which welcomed you so, called for you, urged you to stay in its own impartial way. A call you didn't have the ability to respond to, as it simply wasn't your choice.

When you opened your eyes again you were met with something unfamiliar, the only hint of recollection stemming from a strong sense of déjà vu and nothing more.

It took you a moment to regain a sense of thought, of consciousness, remember that you were, in fact, an organic being even capable of having thoughts.

You blinked gently, taking in the scene before you, the soft breeze and wide planes spanning on for miles, the sparsely scattered trees, and the brief reflection of a river. You recognized it, in a way, and something in the back of your mind screamed that you were in danger, as if your subconscious knew of what your conscious self was trying so hard to remember.

It took but a second to move your head downward, your eyes finding themselves looking upon a kneeling form that seemed rather unaware of your presence, despite being directly beneath you. It took another moment for your brain to process what exactly you were seeing and why you felt so stricken with terror.

Oh.

Oh god.

As if having the air forcibly removed from your lungs, you felt the world around you collapse, instinctually bringing your hands up to your own throat where you last remembered feeling anything at all.

The sharp inhale is what caught his attention, what caused the previously silent archon, you had come to recognize as no other than your murderer, to raise his head in an unsure movement of fear and hope.

It was you, oh god, it was you.

The weight of every conceivable emotion that tangibly existed ran through his body, only an underlying inkling of self-restraint stopped him from lunging at your feet. He had been praying to you before your sudden appearance, begging for forgiveness, and what else could this be?

It had been only a month since your "passing", and Venti found himself engaging in ritualistic prayer every day since. It was the only thing that kept him sane with his past actions weighing on him constantly, a way to remind himself that you were still alive in spirit. While your mortal shell may be gone, the essence of the almighty creator would forever linger. It was only during these moments of prayer that Venti felt any semblance of the freedom he lost, the freedom he mourned, so he could pretend, if only for a moment, that everything was no different than how it was before that night.

The month had been the purest form of heavenly torture, and no amount of alcohol or sleep could distract him long enough to even pretend that all was well. His presence all but disappeared from the face of Teyvat, as he simply spent more time staring at one of your many shrines than breathing most days. The death of the creator, the murderer of an eternal god, a curse he alone had to bear the knowledge of.

His restraint broke quickly as you seemed to stumble backwards, creating more distance between the two of you than he was comfortable with.

"Your grace."

Felling your title on his tongue, feeling how it passed through his lips, he dreamed nightly of this moment, when he was able to dream of anything other than you so gracefully falling and the golden essence that seeped from your form where his arrow pierced it.

"You."

His heart fell, dropped down into his stomach, and shattered.

"You grace I—, I..."

Despite his seemingly endless internal thesaurus, the bards' mind drew a blank on what to say next.

What could be said? Was this not forgiveness? Was it not your will to grace him again with your presence after an agonizing month alone?

He didn't know you, not really, not personally. All he could attribute you to was the subtle feeling in the back of his mind, the strange whisper helping to guide his choices, the feeling of being watched over, before his mistake that is.

He knew of your legend, too. All the thousands of songs composed in your honor by heart, the unrelenting chattering of people carried by the wind when your name graced their lips. Every short story and unprovable myth about your existence prior, your power of creation and how you passed that power down to the mortals you created.

He knew the idea of you, no different than how his people knew the idea of Barbatos, though never truly him. Yet, as he looked upon you, past the fear, past your human vessel, there was a sense of deep familiarity that rang out and flooded his senses. A feeling that made him want nothing more than to simply know you, know everything unspoken and hidden beneath the layers of divinity, stay with you always and cherish every new piece of information, no matter how miniscule.

You glanced quickly to the left, thinking very carefully about simply making a run for it, wondering how much time you'd have before he could draw his bow and why he hadn't done so yet. Your body froze slightly at the thought, flashes of your prior life running through your mind and the unbridled fear they brought.

Venti seemed to pick up on your train of thought and couldn't stop himself from jumping into action at even the notion of more space being forced between you.

"I'm so so so sorry. I know I can't begin to repent, but please. I took care of the offender! You don't have to worry about them now—"

While rambling, Venti was inching ever closer to where you stood, trying to get close enough to safely grab on to any part of you and never let go. If he could just touch you, just secure the fact in his mind that you were alive.

Your mind was spinning with all the information, still not working at full capacity, muddled and hazy.

"Offender?" Was all you managed to choke out, wondering briefly if he was referring to your past life.

His face paled slightly at your tone. Did you really, truly not know the reason he was forced to—?

"The one in your throne, the one who took your place... The one who— who ordered your... death."

It hurt him to say the word, physically pained him, as if it was a blade caught in his throat, a harsh reminder of his transgressions.

"I— what?"

Venti had made it close enough to wrap his arms around your legs, clinging on for dear life as he reviled in feeling you, prepared to take any blows from your hand if only to stay there, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it, and it would be blasphemy to deny anything you were gracious enough to give him.

You jumped at the sudden contact, but it was obvious he meant you no harm, though, that fact was particularly hard to convince your mind as it screamed at you to run away from the offender.

For a brief moment, the Venti you knew flashed in your mind as you felt his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes, clouded your vision with how often you used to admire him, back when this was all nothing more than a game. Just a simple game. The concept felt so foreign now.

You shifted your weight slightly and felt him hold on tighter. It took you a moment to realize he was crying, silent tears adorning his soft features.

What could you do? Was it even humanly possible to forgive something of this nature? Had any other being ever been faced with making this choice?

You had to clear your mind, ignore everything around you and focus on what you now knew. This was real, you were some figure of importance— or at the very least looked similar to one, and your death was ordered by someone who had control of even the gods of this world.

You looked down again at him, how he looked so desperate and utterly heartbroken, how he really believed himself to be the bearer of the ultimate transgression.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to his face, brushing your fingertips against the flushed skin, damp with tears. His eyes opened at your touch as he looked up at you, his hands moving from around your leg to your hand, grasping it tight as he held it to his face. This was certainly an odd form of comfort, if it could even be called that, but any touch from you was nothing but divine bliss for him.

Venti mumbled things against your skin now as he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing again, as if in prayer. He spoke breathy promises of love, devotion, and repentance, of an infinity without pain or sorrow under his watch, how he'd spend his entire immortal life by your side if you'd allow it, making up for his grave sin.

The few words you caught only led to a growing concern. This wasn't the carefree and playful bard you knew, nor was it the caring but serious god who loved his nation, this was something else entirely, something desperate and zealous, something dangerous...

You started to wonder how long it would take for you to regret your inevitable resurrection when faced with an immortal god who would not live to see you part from him again…

[halluciniwaynia]

I kind of wish there was some kind of language to describe the literary and narrative structure of ultrakill, because conventional ones such as “protagonists” and “main characters” only capture a very small picture of the wider story. ultrakill already spits in the face of those things by having the “main character” (the main driver of events in the narrative) being someone who is the “antagonist”, antagonist being the roughest and closest word to describe Gabriel.

But even that categorization falls short in the sense that the game’s story is not about you, but it involves you. V1’s importance in the story is that of someone who is involved in a larger piece of something else: mankind’s extinction and the quickly growing (and very chaotic) sentience of hell, something it interacts with purposefully in the game as part of the mechanics, but story wise, we do not see. The only events that matter which we are influencing is our encounters with Gabriel, and the terminals, because everything else is hell interacting with itself. Everything else is hell becoming some weird kind of massively intelligent superorganism, at odds with the ideals of God being a omnipotent and ever loving creator. That is the story which drives the events of Ultrakill, the story that actually explains and branches out why everything is happening the way that it is and the way that it does. It’s not about V1 except that you (and it) are the hemorrhagic consequences of these factors coming to a head. A massively powerful, easily influenceable (by blood) ant which crawls its way into hell and goes deeper and deeper enticed by the terminals grading, enticed by the constant momentum and unfettered carnage that take place.

If anything, Ultrakill is a story which can only be experienced in a video game. Ultrakill isn’t separating the gameplay from its story, but it is making the core mechanics (style meter, weapon freshness, the terminals feedback with the player being the former’s source of entertainment, etc) completely separate from what is propelling the plot forward, from what is changing the world around it. A story like this, where you experience a world as the consequence, and not the cause of the story’s progression is something that can really only reliably happen when the audience is forcibly interacting as a outsider, with some of input. You cannot achieve this affect in film or books because there is no underlying mechanical reasoning to interact with. What you are shown is what is happening on screen, and you are to make assumptions about those things within their inclusion or omission from a scene.

Ultrakill is playing you a scene completely separate from the main play. There’s probably two plays going on here actually, what happens in Heaven and what you see as V1. You are always playing the terminals’ games, always giving them the entertainment they want and led you into. But there is always something else happening, there is always something bigger than you. You are exploring a world in the past, present, and future tense simultaneously by interacting with it as not the catalyst of major everythings, but as the byproduct of it. It’s a really unique story-telling perspective.

[taranida]

What exactly happened in the 70’s

I’ll start with The Poet and The Muse. I’ve written about the real Thomas Zane being a poet already, but left out this piece of evidence (not at all on purpose, truth be told), but I want to discuss it here, since it goes well with the point I want to make.

In the song we learn the story of a Poet living happily with his Muse and telling her stories about treasures beneath the waves. Then one morning the Muse goes to the lake and drowns. The Poet at some point realises that something happened and comes to the lake, calling for the Muse, but to no avail. Whole day spent in search, and in his desperation, he swears to bring his love back. He writes a story and succeeds to some degree. The husk of the Muse comes to him in the night, possessed by some dark force. The Poet takes her in, but in trying to fix his mistake, vows them both to silence beneath the lake. The story concluded with the peculiar:

Now if its real or just a dream One mystery remains For it is said on moonless nights They may still haunt this place

Now, what exactly the boys of the Old Gods of Asgard are hinting at here (aside from the existence of the Dark and Bright Presences) I can’t tell for sure: they might just toy with all those who have that buzzing question of “who wrote whom”, but I will treat the story of Thomas Zane the Poet as a true story, that happened without any help of tortured writers. Although I will use the manuscripts as well as every other source of information.

Prepare for a long read, since firstly, I would like to present all the bits and pieces that I’ve managed to collect, and then tie them all up in a version of events, I believe, happened in July 1970.

First, the dialogs.

Tor and Odin (whom I cannot stop lovingly call “the boys”) say this:

“Tom’s just lost, is all. Baba Yaga got to him too, the damn witch!” “She used us all, taken from all of us. Took my thunder, the witch.” “And my ravens, what was...what were they? Memory and Thought! The hag.” “She took something from you too, didn’t she? That’s what she does.” “Oh, we’re better off. This place, the lake, it gives you power. If you’re a creator.... An artist, a god!” “Nightmares shifted in their sleep in the darkness of the lake...” “Heh heh, yeah, that’s the one. She makes sure it comes out twisted and wrong. Just ask the Lamp Lady. She knows what happened to that other writer.”

 Cynthia Weaver tells us:

“I knew them both. Tom and Barbara. I had such a crush on him...such a beautiful man. I was jealous. There was a part of me that was maybe a little glad when she had the accident. And then Tom started writing and woke the darkness up.... He tried to bring her back...but you can’t do that. There are no free rides like that.” […] “The witch looked like her, but it wasn’t. Barbara was sweet. He didn’t understand until it was too late. He tried to undo it, wrote himself, her, everything he’d ever written out of the world.”

We have Samantha’s dream in “This House of Dreams”, that gives us even more details:

“The diver told me that a dark presence had taken over his girlfriend (the woman in the photos). He’d tried everything he could think of to banish it from her, but everything had failed. In the end, he finally understood what he had to do, finally understood the true nature of the dark place that was hidden under the waves of the lake where they lived. The lake was an opening to dark place that was much bigger than the lake itself, in fact, much bigger than the whole universe we live in. He wrote one last poem, his masterpiece, a secret poem, a hidden poem, a poem that’s not among the poems I’ve found in the shoebox. And he took his girlfriend for one last dive. Together they sank down into the depths, far deeper than he had ever dived before.”

Then we have the manuscripts, that expand on the story:

More so, we have the dates and newspaper articles:

The last one is cut awkwardly, but, really, all I needed from it are the dates of publishing and of the seismic activity.

So, what really happened during this week? On the morning of 10th July Barbara went for a swim and drowned. As Cynthia notes in her article, Barbara was quite a swimmer and her death does seem odd. At the same time, we have another article (that I will put in the very end for those who are curious) about a writer visiting the area and encountering Taken — Robert “The Colonel” Hambleton dated 6th July 1970. Thomas even makes a snarky remark about not ever hearing about him and calling him “an uninvited guest”. All hints that with all the artists in the area: the boys of Old Gods of Asgard, Thomas Zane, Cynthia Weaver and Barbara Jagger, the Dark Presence still pounces on every other creator unfortunate enough to choose Bright Falls as a place to visit. Might’ve been because it could not make the gang mentioned above do its bidding?

The Dark Presence might be of a very different mind, alien to humans, but it’s cunning. As stated in one of the manuscripts, when it senses Alan, “all he'd need was a little incentive.” For Alan it had to drag Alice to the pier and into the lake; for Thomas it might’ve used the help of its ravens or some other means necessary to overwhelm Barbara long enough for her to drown, as at the time the Dark Presence had no physical body (but there might’ve been some other Taken swimmer around). And after Thomas spent the whole day searching for his lover, succumbing to desperation more and more, he got that incentive, the Dark Presence needed.

In the night Thomas wrote a poem to bring Jagger back. The Dark Presence plan worked and it was now in the world, almost free, wearing Barbara’s skin. But it was still constrained by the story Thomas wrote, and in his story he surely wrote something along the lines of them being together and in love again, therefore we see that the Dark Presence cannot do anything to Thomas as he ties it to the chair, carves its heart out and writes countless pieces to undo his mistake. It just couldn’t get out of the role of the loving Barbara, who would never hurt Zane. It had to go through the story in which, probably, Thomas and Barbara lived happily ever after and died on the same day, to be completely free. Which doesn’t mean that the very, pardon, presence of the Dark Presence in the world was not affecting Bright Falls at the time, the Taken might’ve been multiplying and awful things happening during this week. Yet, unlike Alan, Thomas didn’t go into the woods, fighting for his life, he searched for a solution at the cabin, armed with his typewriter and the (kitchen) knife.

The only solution he found in the end — one last dive. To bring this darkness back to where it came from.

There are still a few mysteries left:

in the guide for the first game we can read excerpts from the book “Taken by the Dark Presence” found in a shoebox that has no author, but has initials of T.Z. and J.Z. on some pages, apparently written in the late 1960’s. And, oh boy, I have lots of questions for this one!

the Bird Leg Cabin and the Diver’s Isle, that might or might not been retroactively removed by the eruption under the Cauldron Lake.

the extent of Thomas’ writing powers, since as much as it is stressed a lot that he wrote himself out of reality, Barry, with a little research, is still able to find out about his existence, yet Alan in one of the “Writer in the Cabin” TV’s claims “A story is a beast with a life of its own. You can create it, shape it, but as the story grows, it starts wanting things of its own. Change one thing, and you set off a chain reaction of events that spreads through the whole thing.” The chain reaction here never happens: we have hard evidence that both Thomas and Barbara existed.

But those are theories for another day. This is already a long enough read to throw those into the mix.

And here’s the article about Robert “The Colonel” Hambleton (spoiler alert: there is another one, confirming that he died):

[lovethatmakingcoffee]

what am I? The devil's advocate?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE GIFT OF APPOLLO STRIKES AGAIN FOR ME SPECIFICALLY CAUSE I CALLED OUT THIS CANCELLATION THE MOMENT FOREVER GOT CANCELLED!!!!! Its just so easy! So simple! Of course a male musician is gonna get cancelled and so few listened to me cause you are dumb children because obviously its children who make up the majority audience of a Minecraft roleplay server!!! Ha! At this point its comical! I'm busting a nut on how funny and predictable this all is. Haha, ah sadge. Oh noooos! Are you all gonna burn your merch and delete your art cause you're afraid that u are supporting an abuser creep. Ah waaaahhhh. Like i havent heard that tune the past two months, sing another one. Bitches.

Pft, you all are so pathetic and funny, at this point there really just must be this shadow group or whatever that is trying to destroy the qsmp from the inside out. Like really? Two months, three major creators of the qsmp are targeted by cancellations, and there is plenty of drama in between. So obviously suspicious and coincidental. And it happened so fast and so many people just dogpiled on the accused, i would have to say its almost organized. And that there is just so many jumping the gun, ready to tell these creators to kill themselves, you guys certainly have numbers, holy shit. Ha! I wonder if Forever actually finds and sues that first anti, that he'll be able to figure out who these people are because isnt this also just so conveniently timed? Each cancellation one after another. There is so much drama clouding the qsmp community that how could it not be schemed out at this point? I already predicted that with Forever's downfall and now with attempts I. Cellbit and Wilbur, Im starting to have an inclination that someone approached these girls.

With cellbit's ex it would be easy to deflame him, but i wonder how they got to this sherby whatever. Maybe cause he chose his career over her like i've heard in her video. But being exs is already hot opportunity for scorn of any kind, so its quite easy to jump on one or the other when one of these two accused the other. So really the motive could be anything at this point. anything she said or not said or those requests she asked of him and he never fulfilled. And to me she never delved too deeply in to what those requests were either. Which ok then. Fine, keep your secrets.

But biting is so fucking weird to accuse someone as abuse. Especially physical. Like just biting? That's all. Not that if its true that's not bad, but it would make sense that he was physically violent in any other way at least once. Like hitting, strangling, anything. But no, biting is the best she could come up with when it comes to physical. Mental and emotional abuse is a tricky in cause its not visible and it will always boil down to a he said she said type of shit but if there is no physical text or people witnessing their conversations then good luck with that.

But firstly, if she wants the whole world on her side then physical evidence should be so easy in this scenario. Like as easy as pie! If he bit her so badly every day where he tore skin, or whatever, then damn weren't they in a relationship??? Did they not take couple pictures? Wouldn't these pictures show the obviously horrible bitemarks? That is the first actual physical evidence that she could show that would be so easy to solidify her stance, but no, just hearsay. And nothing like texts either! Maybe a text to a friend complaining about how bad the bitemarks are. But no, nothing. No slideshow of evidence at all, just saying it happened, because words are all she needs to win the internet nowadays.

And then there are her complaints about him financially taking advantage of her, like girl, receipts! Show the receipts at least please, god damn it! Or again, these supposed texts to your girlfriends that he is taking financial advantage of you!!! Anything at all. The male accused is always expected to provide evidence that he did not abuse his ex but the girl isn't expected to show physical evidence that he did it, come on!!!

And I mean the biting in itself is so strange too. Cause like- how did it even start? She says he did it out of nowhere and my brain cant even wrap around that there was no pinpointing starting point. Said that it was a normal affection thing that his parents said was normal. If his family actually said that at all. And that he just randomly introduced it to her like ... Huh? Nothing she could accurately point to and say then, thats when it began. No sexy time or sex or whenever. Just he walked up to her in the kitchen one day and took a bite, huh? Like as far as im aware, to me (and a mutual of mine who pointed this out more accurately) their situation just sounds like a bdsm thing that went south. These two were not on the same wavelength, realized that and went their separate ways. Maybe he didn't follow the safe word every time, maybe she was also mutually into it like Wilbur said. Maybe they just changed their minds on things. Who knows! Not us, that's for sure. Not that their love life should be any of our business, but she yelled abuse so...

And the fact that she acts like biting is such a weird foreign kink. It's tame is what it is. More tame then the feet kinks in my opinion. But if what Wilbur says it's true and it was mutual, 😮‍💨 then fuck, man.

And why would HIM leaking past conversation be power over her? Wouldn't any mutual conversation or evidence they have over each other, negatively effect him in a bad light? Would it not be good if one of these parties showcased a lick of evidence to evidentally prove her right??? Or would it be like Cellbit and explain thoroughly how not everything she said is the truth?

Who knows. There is probably some truth to what she said like he reiterated. About being a slob and that biting happened. But the invasiveness of the bites and the violence of it might not have been accurate. But he needs to absolutely admit it or she needs literally any physical evidence at all to give weight to her claims. But there is nothing because of course there isn't. She could so easily expose him if what she says is true... So why didn't she in her video? If that is what she wants? But then if it is just to bring awareness then she did so in a selfish manner that is only accusatory and not grounded. Ground me Shelby. Show me the bad boyfriend he is. SHOW ME.

But she won't. Will she? :/

Anyway. The qsmp. 👏👏👏👏👏

Like in the past two months, creators have been cancelled or dropped from the qsmp one by one and damn, quackity must be super evil or one unlucky son of a bitch to have hired all these secretly maliscious people. My goodness gravy gracious, how impressive!

I mean come on, really. Like really. Have we not overheard this tune by now? Male creator gets cancelled cause of something to do with a woman, is rushed to answer and is (luckily for cellbit he had an essay on why he was innocent so people are fifty fifty on him at least) then dogpiled by the people waiting to rip his apology or response apart. And then it doesn't matter what they do, anything they do will be seen in a bad light and no one will take into consideration on their stance at all and turn on the male creator. Its crazy how the pattern keeps repeating itself and keeps being successful because everyone is afraid that they are supporting an abuser pedo whatever and have all this time.

It actually makes me sickly relieved that no matter how Forever managed his initial response, he was doomed from the start.

And i mean these younger streamers certainly think they're smart by immediately turning on Wilbur's obviously curated damage control lawyer made response, but ha! That will bite them in the ass soon too. When its their turn. Because its going to be their turn. These cancellers don't care at this point who you are, they just want to see you fall, which is what i predicted and shouted to the heavens months ago! That they should have stayed as a community instead of turning on each other.

Like they think they are so smart responding this quickly, cause the quicker your response to injustice, the more innocent you are 😇. Because if they dont respond immediately (literally hours after the fact), then they will be treated like creators such as Phil and Tommy; be treated like shit and accused for supporting an abuser by the hysterical masses. Because that's who you are if you are against whatever the ex's name is or dont speak up about it at all. And like dont speak up immediately too. You have to have a quick response or there will literally be a ripple effect of cancellations cause if you dont say anything then you are a bad person too. And all i hear from the social media smucks are Wahhhhhh.wahhhhhhhh you're bad if you support so and so! But i already made my side so im a good person wahhhhhhhh

And no, im not even enteraining shit like this anymore when she goes "uwu, i'm finally coming out on social media to spread awareness that my famous ex boyfriend (and it is ALWAYS at the height of their popularity, remember that) used to abuse and bruise me." Like sure- the benefit of doubt for the female victim blah blah but she's like- "oh but this is based on my experience and I'm just here to spread awareness. Anyway, I'm going to hang out with my friends now after dumping that clusterfuck on the internet. Bye~." Like everyone in their collective minds won't go after him and demand answers then judge his response and then turn on him anyways cause lemme be honest, when has an internet open apology ever worked? It never has. And now she has put the spotlight on him, his pr team is scrambling for an escape, he's probably messaging her behind the scenes going what the hell, and his family and friends who wont actively denounce him will be sent death threats. Just like Forever. Forever mi amor. Ah. I miss you bibi.

Anyway, girlie knew she was setting the hounds on him and acted like she didnt. Like she was just going to say her piece and dip. Like the internet wasn't going to explode. Like what the fuck? Whatever her intentions were, whether she was abused or not, she wanted this. She didnt want to get him before he got famous or even during dsmp. She wanted to do this now. For some reason it had to be now. I guess in her mind the bigger they are...

It's always the same.... goes on social media. Verbally accused with no physical evidence. Leaves. The man is left flounder in the mob of social media. Repeat.

And damn, this really makes me doubt Cellbit's ex now like- im starting to really not believe any of them anymore. Cause these cancellations are just all so convientely timed!!! Forever at the height of his lore, Cellbit's weird ex comes out of nowhere with a heavy hitter accusation, but thankfully my guy predicts this and was able to deflect that one with his PHYSICAL EVIDENCE, and now Wilbur's ex is breaking out the easy 'he abused me~' song. Like why are you all still falling for this? Why? Why? Why? Why?!

And hell, i might be a hundred percent wrong, but you might be too, so might aimsey and ranboo and tubbo. This chick might be a sweet angel that didnt mean to release an innocent criminal accusation on her famous ex, oh no~ but like, i dont even care if im wrong and am acting like a jackass.

They cancelled Forever and my man was not a pedo. I stand by that. I'll stand by it until there is a literal mugshot of him commiting said crime. Or literally any lick or shroud of physical evidence! Anything instead of the basic she said he said nonsense. The Forever texts were gross but i've already determined what I have understood from that girl Sol's response. And I've explained it on my tumblr hear before. Right here :)

-https://www.tumblr.com/lovethatmakingcoffee/739974345599926272/part-1

And these remaining qsmp idiots can be cancelled for all i care at this point. For staying quiet and letting their friend fall into a pit of vipers. I think its hilarious if they all got cancelled. Ive already seperated art from the artist with all of them after what they did to Forever. The only one I didnt do that to WAS Forever.

But they let that shit happen, they let my man get labeled as a pedo, so they reap what they sow.

And yeah i may be a hypocrite and still post qsmp stuff, but like whatever :P. I lost my mind months ago cause of circumstances and Forever was one of the few things keeping me afloat. And i mean like- phaw, these content streamers are funny, what can i say. Even though i dont agree with literally any of the shit they pulled in the last couple of months, they get a hearty chuckle out of me and their character is fun and their lore is (less) interesting. I mean- they are likeable. Thats why they are content creators. Cause they got great personalities. Doesnt mean they are good people though.

And heh, the qsmp really will die soon, i mean really. Just look. Pacfit is cute but it barely holds much in the shipping department, the lore might as well be dead cause many have left or were cancelled or have to deal with the aftermath of their friends being cancelled or leaving. And just it looks like not many people are on and that quackity tried to commercialize it with purgatory 2. Bringing all these new people and having storylines abandoned left and right. Then forever got canceled and quackity chose to throw his friend under the bus (doesnt even matter if forever secretly asked him to) and protect his project which was his first mistake. Now all these creators are getting picked off one by one because of their past relationships. Insteading of standing unified together.

And i will laugh at all of you stupid fucks who whined and cried that ohhh noooo, my favorite creator is a bad person with little evidence, and just the one side talking about it. And it doesnt matter if Wilbur said that was a consensual kink they shared and they met on www.bitemynipple.org, he will be framed as the bad guy, with whatever she said. My god. The fact that everyone takes this shit at face value and dont question anything, and quickly announce that they hate the guy to prove that they are a good person is insane.

Like holy shit, tubbo, ranboo, aimsey, and others. You jumped on him so quickly and literally ranked and ripped apart his apology like it was supposed to win some literary award, the fuck? Why are you so weird?! It's obviously a PR curated response and you are treating it like it is his actual words! The fuck?!

And then y'know, i think there are people who never really were fans and are just part of that well orchestrated alleged anti group that took down Forever and are using what wilbur's ex said to fan the flames. Loudly announcing, 'IM DELETING MY STUFF AND YOU SHOULD TOO UNLESS YOU ARE A BAD PERSON!!!" you want to talk about manipulation? That certainly looks like manipulation to me. Pathetic. Guilting people before the final verdict. My braincells are dead on the floor cause of youm And then the rest of you all roll over, bend your back and just take it. Well lube up your stupid little holes.

But honestly, i called this shit so hard. I more so guessed a fan would damn him later, but its an ex girlfriend who felt like it was a great idea to air out their personal lives to the voyeuristic eye that is the internet. Just peachy. Like this is your own personal shit, and again if there aint even a police report talking about their domestic abuse, i wont take this seriously. It a photo or a screenshot of a text about it. ANYTHING!!!!! The fact she just discreetly brought it up out of nowhere to bring 'awareness'. She knew what she was doing. And if her intentions were to tear him down cause she was angry at him or get her noticed because of his popularity or to use him to lift her agenda of this so called awareness then ok, i guess??????

And what's with this bullshit of not knowing that wilbur is manipulative? That is literally is one of his number one character traits. You can think of it negatively or positively, but unless you are new here, that dude is a manipulative hussy. Like this is a well known fact, how are any of you surprised at this? Its like saying the sky is blue. I mean- if by anything dsmp wilbur is the most manipulative lil bastard ever, obviously he is leaning into a character trait he already knows and has.

But go on, hm, cry. Write your little announcements that you always knew he was a bad person uwu and that you are deleting all your content of him. Go on and do it. Delete your art and fics that you worked so hard on just cause some drama is happening where there is no hard evidence so far except what she said and he said. Heh, I dont stan him. I aint saving this shit. If the art gets deleted, oh well! Too bad, so sad. Thats on all of you who wanted to panic, act out like toddlers and delete your art. Go on. Delete it. Feel sad. Boohoo. Waaaaaaaahhhh. Ask no questions and just side with the 'victim' who conveniently brings this up now.

Who knows. Maybe I'll act up too. Maybe i'll draw Wilbur getting eaten out and bitten and sensually gang banged. Maybe I'll draw art of tntduo chewing on each others' cocks. Bite bite bite. Maybe I'll just make a lot of wilbur biting art just to spite everyone. Who knows?!

Maybe i will also keep the wilbur soot tag alive, like i am doing with the forever, sugarduo, and the 4halo tag. Because you stupid ass bitches just squeal when these creators arent perfect when someone drops dirt on them. Well newsflash you dumb fucks, they all have dirt on them.

Also my next guess on who the cancel qsmp victim will be ... Fit. They havent got anything on Philza yet to my surprise. Maybe the man just surrounds himself with loyal people outside of minecraft server cause obvs those people aint loyal as shit 🤣. And i dont know much about fit outside of qsmp, like i feel a lot of us do. But he totally fits the qualifications. He's a man so he's an easy target. He's older so he has a 'past tm. And he is seen as otherwise good and another pillar of the qsmp. So if he is taken down, many shall follow. It would be another good shock to the community to destroy the server like these antis want. And yeah- i actually think this all stems around the qsmp. Aint no other Minecraft servers are having this level of drama right now, so why is it qsmp that are getting all these leaks and drama bombs at ... At the height of their popularity? I wonder. Or maybe i already know.

But all these pr disaster drama landmines, i even made a funny theory joke in my head that what if the ringleader to these alleged anti groups is actually a pr manager of one of these groups? And thats how they have been destroying everyone from the inside, collecting some OLD dirt, and being able to maybe connect or approach these exs. But that's just a funny theory i have. Like could you imagine???

Could you imagine?

And damn, i just wonder if there is a content creator policy that if one of them is being attacked than the rest have to dogpile on them no matter how they feel or what they think about the situation to save their own assets and finances? Do you think? You think that's in their contract? That would be absurd and hilarious. Imma piss myself from laughing. Look piss.

And no, i will not talk nicely about this. I never should have. You guys all deserve to be spat on and talked shit to. And i mean all. Im talking about everyone. All those that fall hook line and sinker. Dumbfucks

Will i respond to anything from this...? Mm maybe. Probably not. I don't really care what happens :P sucks to suck

(Also yeah this was barely edited, eat my ass)

(And I mean, damn if I'm wrong I'm wrong, but you fucks turn so quick when yeah- there is no physical evidence that she could easily provide)

(to reiterate for those who don't want to read the finer details. I totally think everything that has happened so far as been to rip apart the qsmp and think all these ex girlfriends as well are too conveniently timed. And whether or not they are telling the truth, there are and will always be antis lying in wait to shame and guilt everyone to damn the male accused while no physical evidence is brought forth and that they pressure people to delete their art and fics. Gross)

[clouds-by-me]

For the stories weren’t true. Of course they aren’t real. Why would it be true?

Stories of The most divine, their grace. The Creator.

They praise the title like its a name, like if they called it enough times then someone the creator will respond. Why do they believe that their prayers will be answered?

As if one day the story will prove to be true and-

A Shooting star…

A star has finally shone in bright gold hues as it soars across the Teyvat skies!

“Did you see the star?”

“That means the creator will come soon right?”

“Of course! Everyone rejoice! The creator will be coming soon!”

A chorus of music and cheers spread throughout the land as if it was a disease. But have they forgotten? Have they really forgotten something so important? Maybe thats just what creations do…

They have no means of importance. They do not know that they should remember. Why would they, too consumed in the thought of having to wait no longer, they celebrate.

A lost cause, yes, this place is nothing but a lost cause.

They refuse to listen, to think past words on peices of paper. Paper that they themselves deemed important! They said that they would follow the words of their god. They said! They preached! They prayed!

Hoping to please what they were never going to get in the first place…

==========

Problems that these creations face. The Archons struggle to rule. Problems in each Nation, what to do. Oh what to do?

They never would’ve expected a blond traveler to show up. They’re bright and kind. full of sprit as they help where they can. They look for their sibling that they hold so dear to their heart!

Such a kindhearted soul.

Giving everything, just for some information on a person who doesn’t even want to be found. Only to be sent on a wild goose chase, and to be face with more and more problems As they go along. The shining star faces their own problems, and others on top of that.

They’re so strong, so brave and heroic.

Struggles that aren’t even theirs are placed onto their shoulders as if they caused the problems in the first place. They continue to go on this life endangering quest just to get no where, the only thing they they’ve gained from this journey has been physical strength.

They can’t don't take breaks, and help too many for their own good. They wonder why they struggle to get out of bed, and why they’re always exhausted.

Not realizing that they are dying quicker than they should be.

Stars are supposed to burn for millions of years, yet the creations are killing the shining star in just 500!

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Problems that these creations face. The Archons struggle to rule. Problems in each Nation, what to do. Oh why did they do that?

They believe that they are in the know, that they are right. They aren’t. ‘For the creators wish!’ They say to justify this cause. Such inhumane actions, it doesn’t even make sense.

They are blinded by an idea. Something that is really just a dream. No matter what they call it, it’ll only be a dream, justified by a misguided idea. Framing The Fallen star? When they’ve done nothing wrong!

They say that The Fallen star has stolen the face of the divine? Do they not know? How do they not know?

But they still believe that they are correct.

Correct to react when there was nothing to react to in the first place. They know not of the divine. They know nothing. They become hostile, and for what? A cause they made up? Go as far as trying to harm and hurt The Fallen star. Hunting them where ever they go, even if they’ve tried to make peace.

Torture, beating, robbing, hurting, manipulating, and deceiving them? What gave them that idea? Who told them to do that?

Not the creator. So then who? Surely someone must’ve told them to, right?

Who gave them to the right, the power, or even the thought to hurt what the creator made especially for this beautiful world.

These creations don’t deserve peace! They do not even deserve to look upon such a wonder of divinity. They’re a diamond that has been chipped and thrown away just because the ones who look upon them think they are trying to take the shape of another that they are waiting to get.

They hurt the very things they claim to praise, and once if they ever find out that what they’ve done has gone agains their almighty god, then they wont be able to justify their cause with a good reason. Any reason at that.

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How do you justify that?

With Freedom?

With a Contract?

Eternity?

knowledge?

Justice?

War?

Love?

There is no way to justify what has been done to the stars that The creator have been brought to this world. The pure souls have been corrupted to the point of no return, and now they are bound.

Once they meet again the realm of the creations of this world shall die meet an untimely disaster . What mercy will these creations have?

None.

None of this was done in the name of the creator….

[inbarfink]

I already talked about, like, the Obvious Symbolism of Simon reaching his lowest point literally dressed like the Ice King and then gradually gets back to his old outfit as he starts climbing out of his depressive spiral, at least somewhat.

But it’s also really interesting, maybe even more interesting, how Fionna’s outfit has been gradually shifting and changing with basically every adventure.

My first thought was that it really shows Fionna coming into her own as a character. The more she grows and also the more character development she gets - the more the audience learns to see her as more than just Girl Finn - the more her outfit moves away from just being a slightly girlier version of Finn’s classic look and into being its own thing. 

Because Fionna is her own character. 

But my second thought was more about the first time Fionna’s classic outfit got an update in this series.

This wouldn’t really relate to my first reading, since it just kinda makes her outfit closer to Finn. But it does relate to the most important Theme that her character arc revolves around - Fantasy versus Reality.

Fionna starts out the story interacting with the idea of magical adventure and heroism via the lens of fantasy. She compares everything to video games and just thinks about everything in terms of it being cool and fun and she literally tries to chase down a person from her dreams.

And her mindset was probably only reinforced by discovering she was literally created to be the Main Character in God’s little fantasy universe literally created out of self-indulgence for his silly little stories.

And because of that, she starts out the story with a huge Protagonist-Centered-Morality blind spot where she can’t recognize when she and Cake are in the wrong

And she rushes into action and violence just thinking it’s ‘cool’

And, like, in general acting without thinking of the consequences.

And at basically every step of this adventure, these kinda actions clashed against the reality of her situation. And it all started when she pointed out to her own creator that the outfit he designed for her is cute - but extremely unrealistic for an adventurer like herself

And from there we move to Fionna experiencing more and more of the harsh consequences of assuming everything should fit into her fantasies of heroes and villains 

And that she should punch first and ask questions later 

And in general that it’s always better to trust her guts over her head. 

And with every one of her experiences, the bright and adorable outfit that is a reminder of her origin as God’s Most Self-Indulgent OC gets tweaked in more way - turning it into something that looks a lot more, for the lack of a better word, gritty. And also turning it further and further away from the outfit of her own literal fantasies.

And all of these horrible traumatic experiences and the general dangers of the magical and very different world she’s in have all weathered down Fionna’s original optimism and eagerness and brashness that originally defined her and turned her terribly overprotective and scared instead. And it really reminds of how Simon’s own trauma weathered him down. 

Turning him from a kind man with a passion for adventure and the fantastical and a powerful parental instinct to a miserable jerk who aches for mundanity and made a little girl cry

Until he got to his very lowest point.

So I’m guessing next up for Fionna is getting to see her regain some of her old identity that the Trauma has been tearing away at - getting back some of that cheerfulness and brash attitude and adventurous spirit. Because while it has put herself and her teammates and others in serious troubles - it’s also been a huge help at other times (especially as she's a good counterbalance to Simon ‘slow but dependable’ Petrikov)

She needs to find the balance, learning the lessons from her multiverse adventure without losing all the things that made her Fionna Campbell in the first place.

And I wonder if this development is gonna be paralleled with a return of some of the more ‘classic’ elements of her look - or if her outfit is instead going to diverge farther?