#its ironic because the more i lose at these things the more i feel determined to go to an out of state college. iykwim.

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[butchlifeguard]

thats so embarrassing! i just wanna KMS! /ref

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Little Sun" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[This is a work of fiction. Slapping your partner is physical abuse.]

SUMMARY: Nikolai left Ravka to gather whatever aid he can get for his home but he comes back because he promised you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.2k

Apparently, Коля [Kolya] is short for Nikolai and it's the cutest thing I've heard in my life. Also, let me know if you're fine with just Cyrillic or do you want me to include Latinized spelling in the future.

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

Tolya and Tamar have a bet. Not a very dramatic piece of information if one knows a thing or two about the siblings. But it’s the nature of the bet, not its sole existence, that’s so interesting - it’s their longest unresolved wager:

The whole thing started when they noticed Sturmhond saying “Солнышко would love this” to himself. Most of the time it’s a whisper, a stray thought that somehow wriggled free out of his mind at a sight of a sunset, a panorama of a city or a treasure his crew found - if something is worth appreciation, the enigmatic “Солнышко” would surely want to see it. Judging by the softness with which the captain says those words, Tolya and Tamar are disillusioned that “солнышко” is merely a term of endearment for someone close to Sturmhond’s heart. What directly sparked their bet was whether this hopeless love is returned. Tolya, probably biased by the poetry he so eagerly reads, was convinced that they were witnessing a dramatic love story of a princess and a sea dog or something along those lines. Tamar, however, remained more cynical in her judgement - whoever the lady is, she probably doesn’t spare the privateer much thought, if she’s even aware of his existence. Little did they know, the answer awaited them on the other side of the Fold.

The sanctuary is never quiet nor is it ever boring. Although its population doesn’t impress, the determined freedom fighters rarely catch a break, keeping the beehive constantly buzzing. People coming to and fro, the noise of neverending chatter, footsteps echoing through the grand halls and in the middle - you, one responsibility away from completely losing your mind.

You’re doing your rounds, utilising the march between ‘checkpoints’ to talk with Dima, a quite hyperactive Fabrikator, about his new project. It looks promising but you’ve learned to expect nothing less from the boy. He’s tripping over his feet because his gaze is boring into you, looking for any sign of approval or disapproval, and not the tiles in front of him. 

The parchment rustles as you look through the blueprints. “That’s a lot of iron…” you say quietly. Pondering the schematic, you habitually rub your jaw. “If First Army is to use this on the battlefield, it needs to be lighter, so fewer soldiers have to man it. Some parts ought to be substituted with wood. Maybe these two?” You point to fairly small elements on the blueprint, which look to be part of the traction mechanism. Dima conceptualized a machine built on impressively complicated, codependent systems - one change is going to influence all the other parts, which in turn will circle back to the substitute and put a different strain on it.

Dima gasps. "My lady,” his voice is quiet, breathy.

Suddenly, the boy stops but you don’t think much about it. You stand beside him, still eyeing the blueprint in search of ways to save the more scarce resources without endangering the quality of the firearm. 

“I know it’s going to be difficult, Dima,” you forestall his complaint. “We also don’t want this whole thing to shatter after firing the first round but there’s only so much-.”

"My lady, he's back,” he interrupts you.

You look up at Dima with furrowed eyebrows. But the boy doesn’t meet your eye - instead, he’s looking away towards something, or someone, by the entrance to the sanctuary; a haunted glint hiding in his pupils. Confused, you follow his gaze to the door, only to feel your heart stop for a moment:

The blond hair, the elegant kaftan with aiglets and the insufferable, juvenile confidence written on his face.

"Мой Коля,” you say barely above a whisper. The world smudges and blurs as tears fill your eyes.

Not having much care about the stoic image you’re supposed to maintain, you shove the schematics back into Dima’s hands (he nearly drops them) and rush to the ghost who’s been haunting your thoughts for far too long, pushing through people standing in your path.

The phantom becomes flesh and bones only when you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly to himself. The scent of seaweed and resin lingers on his clothes as though he was born a sea dog and became a prince by sheer coincidence. You hear Nikolai take in a deep breath, his nose buried in your hair. This feels almost too good to be true but good enough to be a cruel joke.

A minute or two passes by and even then it’s difficult for you to lean away to look at his face - Nikolai seems absolutely unwilling at letting you go again anytime soon. Literally and figuratively.

"I was beginning to lose hope," you say quietly. Although his eyes remain just as mischievous as they usually are, a hint of softness hides inside them.

"You know me, солнышко,” he says with a grin on his face. The pet name makes your chest both tighten and burst with passion you have nearly forgotten. After a long period of emptiness and coldness, this scorching devotion is burning you alive. “I promised you I'd come back."

Only when his warm hand reaches to wipe away your tears do you realize you’ve been crying all this time. Even if you tried, there’s no way of stopping this - all of the nights you’d spent worrying and all the days you’d been yearning for him, they finally find their outlet in this longed-for reunion. You’ve imagined his tragic death so many times, you can hardly believe all of that was just an atrocity of your mind.

“Please, stop crying,” Nikolai whispers while relentlessly wiping your face, “or I’m going to cry too and I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of our guests.”

A chuckle of both disbelief and overwhelming relief escapes your lips. Even now, at such a heartfelt moment, he can’t help his humour but Saints’ did you miss it.

You sniffle. Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the smooth material of his kaftan. Not a cut or a burn on this textile, as though it beared to witness to combat. "You’ve been gone for so long, I don't know if I should kiss or slap you."

He gives you a playful, questioning look. "Can I choose?"

"Not a chance."

Nikolai gasps when he feels your hand against his face. The strength of the slap was nowhere near to the punch Alina threw at him not too long ago but considering who you are, it aches incomparably more. To a degree, he understands that he might, after all, deserve some of your anger. Aside from the misguided, love-fueled belief you’ve always had in him, you had virtually no reason to think he’s alive, mourning him each time you lay in bed alone - until now.

He doesn’t have a chance to form a response to your outburst as you grab both sides of his face and clash your lips against his. That’s something Nikolai can condone and he does so with a nearly obscene lack of hesitation or reluctance. His arms hold your waist in a tight embrace. The saltwater on his skin tastes like insufferable youth and fabulous adventures. For a moment, you let yourself forget about the pending civil war, thinking only about the warm, soft lips you’ve missed so dearly. Your Коля came back to you, so everything is perfectly fine.

At the same time, Tolya turns to look at his sister with a proud grin. “Told you,” he says nudging her arm but Tamar only scoffs and shakes her head.

[itsclydebitches]

It's weird to think Vol 10 of RWBY just straight up might never happen. much less further volumes. No matter how bad it got I would still have loved some form of ending but Barabas comments don't paint a hopeful picture. Alas fics of RWBY will go until the end of time.

It's very weird. Most shows I come across have either already concluded, or give their audience an estimate of when things will wrap up ('We're planning another two seasons and each takes us about two years to film, so...'). I have shows that unexpectedly get more content after providing an ambiguous, but still satisfying ending (Alice in Borderland), shows where each season is self-contained so it can end whenever without issue (Bake Off), shows that were cut short and had to scramble to wrap up (Sense8), and of course there are always shows that are straight up cancelled and can't do a thing to mitigate that... but RWBY feels almost, almost unique in this combination. It's a webseries rather than a traditional TV show. It's gone on for a decade with absolutely no indication of where it's heading. Each season feels threatened to the point where the fandom can no longer differentiate between a real cancellation concern and Internet exaggeration. The story has hit what's arguably its most important narrative peak - the team has traversed an alternate world, Ruby has "overcome" drinking the tea, Summer finally appears on screen - only for news of the story's future to remain frustratingly vague. Not only have we never had a sense of when RWBY's story will end, now we don't even have confirmation of whether it will end. That's such a frustrating way to approach storytelling given that your audience relies on some level of commitment to remain engaged.

I too want RWBY to finish up because I am not immune to the Sunk Cost Fallacy: I put this much time into the series and it needs to satisfy me with a conclusion, even if the conclusion itself will inevitably be unsatisfying. Outside of any normal disappointment with a story you love getting the ax, I generally don't mind embracing unfinished works. I read abandoned fics, watch cancelled shows, browse barely started comics, because getting a taste of the world is always worth it if it's compelling to me. I never regret meeting characters whose stories go untold because as a writer myself I can at least imagine that on my own terms. But RWBY? Losing it now would be a real kick in the teeth. I personally don't think the story is salvageable at this point, but at the very least fans deserve a conclusion: one that will likely please a lot of devoted viewers and allow critical fans to put a satisfying tick mark on the box in our heads labeled "RWBY."

Given its popularity I wouldn't be surprised if RWBY wound up cancelled and then concluded in a comics run, or a one-off movie. Beyond the fact that this would no doubt mess up the writing even more (now you have to iron out this mess of a plot on a time limit, in a new medium, with new authors!) it would, unfortunately, be kind of hilarious too:

[generic tour guide voice] "Hello. Welcome to RWBY. Our fandom is known for having copious side stories connected to the canon in confusing ways. Some are incidental to the main series. Some outright contradict it. Some are crucial to your understanding of the primary plot and must be engaged with in a timely manner. These texts range from comic runs to random bits of information in abandoned mobile games. Please note that this corpus did not grow naturally across decades of storytelling, as is the case with fandoms like Star Trek and Star Wars, but was rather cobbled together by RT in an attempt to 'fix' numerous, ongoing issues with the webseries. Our latest addition? The ending. Yes, if you would like to finish RWBY please refer to this index of sources that together provide a semi-cohesive conclusion to a ten year show. Now, on your left you'll see the ongoing brawl as fans attempt to determine whether this index is canonical or not. Please watch your step..."

[heaven-said]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄!

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood — pick 10 songs you find to give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write for your muse!

( This took me so long to do lmao-- )

Hero - Jeff Williams & Caleb Hyles

{{ THIS is Gabrel's theme to me, not just the near perfect lyrics but something about the blindly determined tone, the slight ego tied to a suffocating sense of responsibility, and I won't even bother listing the matching lyrics because almost every line fits him to a T-- especially pre-development gabe. For both Hazbin and Ultrakill verse. ( And it's sung by Caleb whomst has a great voice ofc ) Even the line about how children can't win a war could fit Hazbin verse because Gabe thinks of Charlie and her tactics as childish and sees fighting the darkness as just an ancient war. ( Or he did. ) }}

The Truth Beneath the Rose - Within Temptation

Give me strength to face the truth, the doubt within my soul No longer I can justify the bloodshed in His name Is it a sin to seek the truth, the truth beneath the rose? Pray with me so I will find the gate to Heaven's door I believed it would justify the means It had a hold over me Blinded to see the cruelty of the beast It is the darker side of me (Forgive me my sins)

The Plagues - Prince of Egypt

{{ I have to list this, its like an obligation on this blog lmao Really captures the conflict of the archangel brothers so well though, but also its ironic the way Gabriel is more Ramses than Moses. Even if its him who brings plagues. }}

Cold, Cold, Cold - The Family Crest

{{ Saw this in some Gabv1el fanart and now I am obsessed with it, it captures a feeling of two people fated to die together at the end of the world so well to me-- just with the intensity of how its few lyrics are sung. }}

See The Light - Ghost

( Thank Do-These-Eyes-Look-Human for reminding me of this song! ) Many a sin I have witnessed And in many indeed I have been Many a rat I have befriended And many a thorn stood between But of all the demons I have known None could compare to you Every day that you feed me with hate I grow stronger Drink me, eat me You will see the light

To The Edge - FF14

All our splendor bathed black in silence Our surrender, a somber reverie Slowly drifting down into twilight Left to sifting through fading memories Know our places, for worth is wordless Evanescent, this writing on the wall Brother, stay this descent to madness Come and save us, catch us before we fall

Noah's Arc - Young Heretics

Noah's Ark can't save us all Binary against the squall And in its wake Good men will fall And finally we can move on We have so much to answer for We asked for help to start this war Can we forgive The things we've done Take our things And move along

Charlie's Inferno - The Handsome Devil

( this one is the silly mood song, but it IS about a man who did everything right and still ended up being rejected by heaven so hoohoo ) You can run-on from your demons until you are exhausted One day, you will have to stop and find out what they wanted Keep on running from those demons 'til you are exhausted You can run-on to those angels until you are exhausted One day, you will have to stop and question what they wanted Keep on running to those angels 'til you are exhausted

False Start - We Were Evergreen

In the fast track I'm a ticking bomb Minor set-back, but I’ve gone too far I can make it just a few more yards I’m not failing, yeah, I’m almost done Can’t believe what just happened It wasn’t me, I know better than losing like this Clear my head, nobody’s saw it I’m up ahead, this is between the footworks and me Four long years I’ve been waiting to conquer this To spoil it up with a point one, a point one I can’t let, let my people down Not again, not after that last headline, that headline...

The Imperishables - Dirt Poor Robins

( A song that does wonders getting me into a scary angel mood lol ) We are the stars that never set The undying north, unfading west Tremble as we're now manifest A sight your perceptions will not accept Are we your relief or boundless grief A thief come in the night The legends of old you've cast away Are flooding back in your memories Nothing on Earth hides from our gaze The wheel of eyes see everything Heaven's desire burns like fire If you hate the light

Tagged by: @cast-you-dxwn & @brokendreamscreation ( It took me forever to settle on the songs for this but thank you very much haha-- )

Tagging: I do not know if anyone else hasn't done this yet, but please do take it! ( especially if we interact a lot, feel free to tag me lol )

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Music For the Soul

by Alexander MacLaren

Tragic Unconsciousness

"He wist not that the Lord was departed from him." – Judges 16:20

Samson, fresh from his coarse debauch, and shorn of the locks which he had vowed to keep, strides out into the air, and tries his former feats. But his strength has left him because the Lord has left him; and the Lord has left him because, in his fleshly animalism, he has left the Lord. The strong man made weak is unconscious of his weakness. All evil, by its very nature, tends to make us insensitive to its presence. Conscience becomes dull by practice of sin and by neglect of conscience, until that which at first was as sensitive as the palm of a little child’s hand becomes as if it were "seared with a hot iron." The foulness of the atmosphere of a crowded hall is not perceived by the people in it. It needs a man to come in from the outer air to detect it. We can accustom ourselves to any mephitic and poisonous atmosphere, and many of us live in one all our days, and do not know that there is any need of ventilation or that the air is not perfectly sweet. The deceitfulness of sin is its great weapon. Christian people may lose their strength because they let go their hold upon God, and know nothing about it. Spiritual declension, all unconscious of its own existence, is the very history of hundreds of nominal Christians. When the life-blood is pouring out of a man, he faints before he dies. The swoon of unconsciousness is the condition of some professing Christians. Frost-bitten limbs are quite comfortable, and only tingle when circulation is coming back. I remember a great elm tree, the pride of an avenue in the south, that had spread its branches for more years than the oldest man could count, and stood, leafy and green. Not until a winter storm came one night and laid it low with a crash did anybody suspect what everybody saw in the morning - that the heart was eaten out of it, and nothing left but a shell of bark. Some Christian people are like that: they manage leaves, and even some fruit; but when the storm comes, they will go down, because the heart has been out of their religion for years. And so, because there are so many things that mask the ebbing away of a Christian life, and because our own self-love and habits come in to hide declension, let us watch ourselves very narrowly. Unconsciousness does not mean ignorant presumption or presumptuous ignorance. It is difficult to make an estimate of ourselves by poking into our own sentiments and supposed feelings and convictions, and the estimate is likely to be wrong. There is a better way than that. Two things tell what a man is - one, what he wants, and the other, what he does. As the will is, the man is. Where do the currents of your desires set? If you watch their flow, you may be pretty sure whether your religious life is an ebbing or a rising tide. The other way to ascertain what we are is rigidly to examine and judge what we do. " Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord." Actions are the true test of a man. Conduct is the best illumination of character, especially in regard to ourselves. So watch, and be sober - sober in our estimate of ourselves, and determined to find every lurking evil, and to drag it forth into the light.

[infiniteeight8]

I've been stymied for what to post today, so I've decided to post some details about one of my IronStrange plot bunnies. Perhaps if people get excited about it, it might get the current fic finished faster so I can start a new one. (No promises, though, so don't feel obligated.)

Anyway, the bunny:

Set up: They win against Thanos on Titan. The snap never happens. Stephen falls in love with Tony during the 14 million futures, but Tony is engaged to Pepper, so Stephen is determined to keep his mouth shut and let Tony be happy. Meanwhile, Tony's relationship with Pepper is falling apart because Tony ran off into space/out heroing again despite Pepper begging him not to. (No demonizing anyone here, they just want different things from life.) No one knows, though, because they haven't officially called it off yet.

The plot: The Avengers go up against someone who turns out to have magic (or maybe just access to a magic artifact). They win the fight, but Tony gets trapped by an artifact that puts you to sleep and keeps you there by giving you a dream of your perfect life so that you won't want to wake up.

The Avengers call Stephen for help. He identifies the problem immediately and tells them that the solution is for someone to go into Tony's dream and convince him it isn't real and he has to wake up. However, Stephen says its far too dangerous for him to do the dreamwalking. He refuses to explain why, because the reason it's dangerous is that the more unhappy you are, the stronger the hold the artifact's dream has on you, and Stephen is... pretty intensely miserable. But because he refuses to explain that, the Avengers insist that he go into Tony's dream, and he caves.

Once he enters Tony's dream, the artifact goes to work on trapping him. But because he's in Tony's dream, and not individually trapped, they have to share the same dream. The artifact sees in their minds that Tony wants to be loved for who he is, and that Stephen is already in love with him, so it crafts a dream for them in which they date, fall in love, and get married. Stephen's a surgeon again, and Tony's still Iron Man, but in a somewhat less dangerous world. At the beginning, Stephen tries to resist the dream and convince Tony to break free, but the dream world is so seductive that Stephen soon loses the battle.

Eventually the Avengers call Wong for help and he manages to break both of them free, but now Stephen is convinced that Tony's feelings in the dream world were never real. So now Tony has to convince Stephen that even if the world wasn't real, their reactions to it were.

Final Thoughts: I'm undecided on how much of the fic would be the dream world and them falling in love versus the real world after and Tony getting Stephen back. There's two very different stories there. I'm a sucker for the falling in love part, though, so I suspect my take would be a lot of dream world and only a couple of scenes of Stephen being insecure and Tony having to break through that.

[musewrangler]

#2, 6, 15, and 18 for the fic writer ask game, please!!

Have I mentioned before that you are the coolest for asking me things about my writing? Thank you friend. :D

2. What fanfic do I wish I got more response on?

I think that has to go to my Star Wars Western---Showdown At Alliance Ranch. I had SUCH fun with it and I really worked the research and descriptions. But it is admittedly a very niche thing, so I'm at peace with its humble hit count. :D

6. Have you written any fanfiction featuring OCs? Elaborate.

Ha. This is hilarious coming from you. You're just handing me a microphone and smirking because you KNOW about this. ;D So. Stretches fingers.

Why yes. Yes I HAVE written OCs. xD AND featured them! This is an amusing one, because when I started writing here, particularly the Empire Reimagined series, I was determined not to do any OCs. I think I found so many of them rather shoe horned in with other works and I didn't want my stories to feel like that. I liked the feel of the original canon characters. However, we all grow don't we? And it made sense in my AU to have more characters to make the galaxy more three dimensional. Doctor Henley was the first OC and there was NO WAY he was going to let me just use him and lose him. So even early in my writing, I broke this little private rule and carefully put in a few OCs. Henley, as mentioned. Then Braxten, a medic, and Sergeants Havel and Ellery.

However, in terms of FEATURING one. That didn't happen until my young friend, Matthew Scraps, showed up. I had once again written him as a nice little filler character. A newbie to interact with canon characters in a one shot. But then, I needed some characters for a short series I did featuring Commander Fox and I thought---hey. This would make sense and we've seen him before.

I'm not sure when the idea of putting him on as the head of Piett's security squad hit my brain, but when it did, I realized I had someone I had made indispensable. And then he and Piett developed this wonderful father-son energy. The rest, as they say, is history.

15. Are there words, mannerisms, phrases or scenes you tend to use a lot?

Ha there sure are. I'll try to stay brief. I love thinking of Piett and Veers as exceedingly British. I mean---the actors ARE so that shapes the way I portray them. Thus, both are fairly understated in the wonderful way that the Brits can be, especially when faced with fearful odds. ;D Veers tends to convey a great deal with his 'Iron General' persona. Piett has very expressive eyes and eyebrows so I utilize that a lot in my work. I love having him do little things like tug his jacket into place or rub at his temple to convey various emotions. I find that the way people hold their mouths is very effective with conveying feeling: chewing a lip, pressing them together, allowing the edge to curl a little, scrunching a bit in distaste etc.

In terms of scenes---I have to follow a hurt with a comfort. It may not be right away, but I find I'm not an author that can do hurt no comfort very often at all. So my fics usually have a concluding wrap up with people where they should be, a conversation that needs to happen or healing etc. I love a good confrontation scene between characters and have done a lot of those.

Phrases. Well. Piett will always call Leia 'my dear' and I like that he uses Scraps' full name. Always 'Matthew' not Matt. He and Veers use the 'Good Hunting' 'Safe Stars' when they have to split up to complete a mission. Piett also tends to use 'I'll endeavor' when instructed to do something and it's usually a somewhat playful response.

18. Recommend some else's fic [and tag them if they have a tumblr]

There are so many tremendous writers on here and I confess that I write more than read. But. I would HIGHLY recommend the incredibly talented @hollers-and-holmes. She has done phenomenal things with Tolkein fan work and is a Rembrandt with word painting.

Thank you again for this friend!!

[silvysartfulness]

12, 17, 19, 22 for the choose violence ask game👀

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Oh man, like. All of them? I tend to only fall for unpopular characters, so that's a long list. But keeping it just to a few choice people in the Untamed;

Xue Yang. Obviously. He's brilliant, he's dedicated, he's fucked up in some really interesting ways and he got so close to having a redemption arc and happy ending before everything came crashing down! If he'd been the protagonist/viewpoint character, you know he'd be getting the fandom's WWX cinnamon roll treatment. But alas.

Jiang Cheng. That so many people dislike him honestly baffles me? I see so many takes that are frankly based in extremely shallow readings, disregarding his trauma, his world context, the impossible balance between his crushing responsibilities and the people important to him. He's not your homophobic dad or schoolyard bully, he's a deeply traumatized person doing the best with what he's got despite losing everything dear to him over and over, and he's trying so hard. He's loud and has a hot temper, but for fuck's sake, there's so much love there and you'd almost have to be willfully blind not to see it!

Jin Guangyao. Another of those "if he'd been the main character/viewpoint character, people would have loved him" ones. He's intelligent, determined, hardworking and loyal - though frequently pushed way beyond his breaking point in that loyalty. Pragmatic to the point of ruthlessness, but it's because the world's one big trolley problem to him - he sacrifices the few to help the many (even if yes, that does include himself in 'the many'), but he doesn't take pleasure in the hurt he causes (except in that one pretty understandable case of his dad). He deserves so much compassion, or at the very least understanding!

Should I put Song Lan on here? A lot of people seem to hate on him for very shallow, ship-related reasons, but within the plot, he tried his very hardest to set things right. It's not his fault they were all already doomed by the narrative and he walked into Yi City that day as the unwitting catalyst.

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

For fics, Yi City fix-its that don't count killing Xue Yang as "fixing it". Stories digging into the hot mess of the complex, fascinating canon-verse, or at least reincarnation.

More fics with characterization I vibe with - a complicated, rough-edged but ultimately lovable Xue Yang, a compassionate but stubborn and somewhat brittle Xiao Xingchen and a Song Lan who feels so much and is so bad at showing it. More SXX fics overall!

For art, more art with the CQL character designs! The designs for the other adaptations are kind of cute, but they're just not my guys, and I feel pretty lukewarm toward them on the whole.

(And fellow artists - please, please, please don't forget Xue Yang's missing finger! 😭 I see so much fanart with either 10 intact fingers, or a glove with a fully articulated left pinky. His lost finger is the driving force of his entire character arc, don't just forget about it...😢)

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Hmm... 🤔 On the whole, I don't feel a lot of shame for my tastes in fiction. I'm surprised I actually ended up really liking the main couple as much as I did - in a love story, no less? That literally never happens, I always go for the sideline gremlins.Other than that, though...

Trying very hard to hold up the blorbos and my usual go-to tropes, groping around for any sense of horror or shame, but I can't think of anything really. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

I guess I'm that one (1) person who actually likes the Yin Iron plot? I genuinely think CQL made a lot of good choices to tie the sprawling narrative together more cohesively, and I liked the introduction of the Yin Iron and how it led into the creation of the Yin Tiger Seal rather than tossing the latter in as an "Oh yeah, this was a thing that totally existed all along, forgot to mention". (I know MDZS was written and posted in installment, and that can make it hard to work with foreshadowing etc, but even so. I do think CQL did a good job tightening up the story in many ways.)

And don't get me wrong, I absolutely don't mind the idea of Xue Yang as an absolute nobody clawing his way up from nothing! It's a delicious version, too! But there's just something about the idea of a family he could have belonged to, a sense of community he could have had, ripped away centuries before he was even born.

If I want to be a petty, I guess I could put "Xue Yang is canonically brilliant" under this question, too, because I wish that was explored in more fics and meta. The boy is a prodigy. He's a genius. He's also a street-brawler, petty thief and murderous little piece of shit, but that doesn't take away the first point. Let Xue Yang be the highly, dangerously intelligent Problem that he actually is!

[ghostwriterdiariesxoxo]

Down For You (Teaser)

Chapter 19: (Flashback pt. 3) teaser.

[yeah it’s been a hot ass minute, but hey…imma finish what I started - new chapter up soon( the real truth behind Cam and Bo are about to start surfacing and as always...imma fuck y'all up 😎but until then…the teaser)

One Week Before Camille’s Birthday...

 Camille and Haley’s Apt

Bo hadn’t seen Haley since the night he took her home from the bar several weeks ago. The thought stirred uncomfortably in his head when he heard the faint sound of her voice trickle in through Camille’s bedroom door. It was like a splash of cold water, extinguishing the heat rising between him and Camille, who’d managed to pull him into another heavy make-out session after he’d insisted he needed to leave over an hour ago.

“I thought you said Haley wasn’t here?” He asked, pulling his tired, swollen lips from hers.

“She must have just gotten in,” Camille sighed in heavy frustration. “What the hell does it matter anyway?” She pushed him onto his back and leaned over him, studying him through narrowed eyes.

He shrugged. “It doesn’t—just asking.” Camille shook her head in disgust and sat up on the bed. “Jesus Camille, it was just a question,” Bo snapped, although he knew her annoyance had very little to do with his inquiry and far more to do with the fact that they both still had their clothes on.

It didn’t take long after he started dating Camille for her to figure out he was a virgin. And although her initial reaction was a giggle fit, it quickly became her laser-focused mission to change it. That much was evident to him. But although the why behind her determination was still unclear, he knew it was either classic sexual frustration or some kind of need for validation—or both. But his argument that he just wanted to ‘wait until the moment feels right’ was losing its luster as the days and weeks passed, and even he was starting to grow tired of his own hesitance. Camille was a classic example of a hot girl that any guy would want to get with. He wasn’t nervous about it, and his body was giving him the full greenlight, so it certainly wasn’t a physical hang-up. He’d taken more cold showers than he could stand at that point. The problem was all in his mind. The closer he edged towards letting go and giving in, the louder it became, jumbled with thoughts, clambering one over the other. None of which were profound by any means. Just a congested mess of ‘Stop’ – ‘Don’t’– ‘Not now.’

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” Bo said quietly. He sat up, resting his back against the terribly uncomfortable iron post headboard of her bed as he brushed the sweep of his hair to the side, noting that he desperately needed to get it cut. “I think I’m just distracted with trying to write the show and everything.”

Camille rolled her eyes but leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder as she gazed up at him. “You still have like, an entire month before you have to have it done,” she pouted.

“Yeah, and it’s arguably the most important thing I’ve ever written,” he replied.

The morning after he left Haley in tears, he met with a major network, interested in making him a new headliner. If what he wrote was good enough, his act would be filmed and released nationwide. This was the big break.

Camille grinned. “You know what I think?”

“What’s that?”

“I think it would do your writing some good if you let me help clear that head of yours. And if that doesn’t talk you over the edge, then how about this?” In one quick move, she straddled his lap and leaned in, planting small kisses on the side of his neck. “My birthday’s next week, and you’re the only thing I want.”

He laughed quietly under his breath and pulled her face into his hands. “You know what I think?” Camille tipped her head in question. “I think you’re a spoiled fucking brat.”

She grinned wildly, “Yeah? So what?” Brushing his hair from his eyes, she continued. “Whatever stuck-up moral code you’re holding onto? Let it go. Stop following your own rules because it feels so damn good to break them. So just do it. Break the damn rules.”

“Astounding wisdom, Cam,” he grinned before glancing at his watch. “I gotta go.”

As they emerged from Camille’s bedroom and rounded the corner, Bo was caught off guard when he realized that Camille’s loud pack of friends were all scattered around the living room. Several pairs of eyes, all of them landing directly on him. But what really got his attention was the particular pair that belonged to Haley as she gazed up at him from the couch. Her expression was tight, unsettled. But Bo was relieved that, if anything, they didn’t have the hurt or the tears settled in them like the last time he saw her. And after quietly mumbling goodbye, he left.

Two Days Before Camille’s Birthday…

Nick’s Comedy Stop

 

Bo moved methodically around the stage, wrapping cables,  gathering mic stands, and packing them into their hard-shell cases. The theater was empty and quiet, and for that, he was grateful. The show at Nick’s Comedy Stop that night was a packed house, and although he felt fairly confident in his performance, he couldn’t shake the urgency to get back to his apartment so he could get some more writing done. He still had a few weeks before the network execs would be returning to see what he had to offer, but the pressure was on, and it was all he could think about.

As he packed the last few things away, he heard the familiar clank of the door closing towards the back of the theater. Squinting past the bright stage lights and out into the darkness, his hands froze on their way to closing the case when Haley appeared at the edge of the stage, offering a quick wave and a timid smile. She was the last person he expected to see, and after a few beats of astounded silence, he managed to speak.

“Mystery girl…”

“Help me up?” She said softly, holding her arms out.

“Uh—Yeah, of course.”

Just like the night they first met, he moved to the edge and pulled her onto the stage. But this time, it took a little longer to drop her hands from his, and as much as he wished he could stop staring, he couldn’t, even after she laughed shyly and looked out towards the stage lights.

“I just wanted to say congrats,” she explained after a few quiet moments. She turned her eyes back to his. “I heard about the network.”

“Oh—right. Uh, thanks. I mean, it’s not official yet but—”

“It will be—I have no doubt about that.”

Bo nodded, and although he was thankful for the compliment, it was genuine confidence in her delivery that he appreciated most.

She turned her eyes back once more to the lights, and a few quiet seconds passed.

“Haley…I’m sorry again—about the other night.”

“Don’t be,” she replied quickly. “I mean—I probably wouldn’t have been able to remember it anyway.” The sound of her nervous laugh struck a smile on Bo’s lips, even though he felt a tug of hurt because he wasn’t necessarily apologizing as much as confessing—that he was actually genuinely regretful that he didn’t let her kiss him. “Anyways,” she shrugged. “I should probably get going. Let you get out of here.”

“It was really good to see you,” Bo returned. “I’m glad you came by.”

She gave him a soft smile and a quick nod. “Kay, well—goodnight.” Turning on her heels, she moved to the edge of the stage.

Suddenly the only thing Bo could think about was Camille’s words. ‘Stop following your own rules. It feels so damn good to break them. So do it. Break the damn rules.’ He didn’t remember taking the steps to get there but suddenly, there he was—right behind Haley as he reached out and took her hand. Her soft blonde curls danced around her shoulders as she turned, her bright eyes lit with question.

To Haley, it all happened so quickly but yet, somehow,  in slow motion. The moment she turned, Bo slipped his hand behind her neck, his eyes fell to her mouth, and suddenly his lips were wound tightly with hers, his kiss sinking so deeply and slowly, her legs went weak, and she was thankful his arm slid tightly around the small of her back. And it was there in his arms that she hung helplessly as she took in every fiber of the moment. Every second of that feeling of his mouth moving warmly over hers until it lifted, and she opened her eyes to meet his, gazing down at her, wide and wondering. The air felt charged and electric, and that--was what Haley would always recall as the very moment she fell in love with Bo.

[crediblebombthreat]

Tumblr Day 5ish De-Brief

I wanted to post this here so I can look back on it in disgust or curiosity later, not necessarily because I think anyone needs to read it. This is a bit of a long post, by the way. Consider before clicking.

It's very strange coming back here after seeing glimpses of it in the mid 2010s and seeing that it's basically the same. There's less porn and the overall post quality seems to have gone up slightly -- but the fundamental soul of the site is still the same one it was before metrics, engagement, and algorithms started to define what the internet was on a metaphysical (for lack of a better term) level. Ironically, the only other places I know of like this are the boards on 4chan too niche or pretentious to assimilate the flood of low-quality posts from rightoids that are either 16 or 47 years old. Everywhere else on the internet that people spend time on has an invisible coating of unreality over it.

This isn't to say that tumblr is immune -- you have things like Blaze -- but spending real money for notes isn't the point of the site.

If I find something fucked up and weird on YouTube, for example, it's like when an AI lets you win at chess. YouTube's algorithm knows I like weird videos, and this video has been determined by a network of keywords to be weird. The same (or very, very similar) applies to TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, and Reddit (although the userbase is delusional and denies this -- go figure, they're redditors).

If I see something fucked up and weird on tumblr it's a result of the ever-churning slurry of content organically burping up a post from 2013 because a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend reblogged it a week ago. There is also a possibility that the person posting a sped up .gif of a caterpillar eating a leaf with the caption "ummm sh eis my fukcign sister!!!" payed upwards of $150 for me to see it, which is surreal in its own, different, way.

Because of this (and despite the culture of detachment), everything feels a bit more sincere. Which is definitely sometimes a weakness -- tumblr twee creates some of the most cloying garbage I've ever seen -- but it also sets up situations where (unlike everywhere else on the internet) the news that travels fastest isn't always bad news.

I imagine most users of tumblr are either aware of this or just take it for granted, but for a relative outsider it's a it's a good control on the direction the rest of the internet is going. Or, more accurately, where it is right now. I notice a general feeling of unease and dissatisfaction coming from a lot of people who use the internet for something other than a continuous stream of entertainment. Even dedicated internet trolls mourn for the days when you could dissolve the social fabric of a forum by using "(:" instead of ":)". As opposed to now where every online argument is a different flavor of the same three topics; all soaked in self-important moralism, and often framed through a reductive political lens -- the worst impulses of the 2010s internet concentrated and refined.

This isn't to say that the process of something gaining popularity and losing some of the quirks you appreciated about it, or the slow erosion of a medium is unnatural or anything. It's been happening since the dawn of time. It is, however, strange that it's happening to people in their teens and twenties rather than people in their forties and fifties.

The bad news is: as things reach new heights of profitability in capitalism, they are further alienated from a human element. The good news is: literally everyone is acutely aware of that, even if it's subconscious. It's why we still watch competitive chess between two people and why I believe AI art is nowhere near as catastrophic as one might think (among a few other reasons).

And because of that good news, tumblr will probably stay the correct type of shitty in the long-run. I don't see a world where there exists a corporate entity competent enough to algo-monetize tumblr while still retaining a userbase. And I DEFINITELY don't see a world where that hypothetical corporate entity would willingly buy tumblr.

I have other thoughts about the possible futures of the internet, but that's more applicable to a Substack article rather than a musing tumblr post. Additionally, all outcomes other than "capital snakes its way deeper into the processes of communication and we are helpless but to watch" must take into account that "capital snakes its way deeper into the processes of communication and we are helpless but to watch" is the most likely outcome considering nothing crazy happens.

But hey, something crazy usually happens.

[blackwinged-soul]

Nexus connection notes on the D/C/A/M/U aspect of my spirit guide, because they fascinate me and I don't want to forget these.

Had the movie marathon with my roommates today…

(J.L.D., J.L.v.T.T., T.T.J.C, and J.L.D.A.W.)

I'm buzzing with energy. I called it a "happy buzz" earlier. It's one part mine and two parts Nexus. And it remains a "happy buzz" despite the bittersweet ending of J/L/D/A/W.

I suspect conversing with and feeling from friends prevented any sort of wallowing or the usual accidental-trance connection. (Intentional happened a couple times, though.)

There were actually a couple of moments I intentionally closed the Nexus connection. When she was powering up the portal, though I still felt the energy singing and singeing (it's a lot less painful than in the '03 facet but still an OVERWHELMING amount of energy, and I suspect not all Voluntarily Used, like it was being PULLED out of her!) And of course the phobia trigger in A.W. Locked it down tight in that one. Iron gate of panic seems to help. Maybe she turns away from that one.

But with the portal scene, I used a different technique from usual. Tried "locking the gate". And it didn't work very well. But then I did more of a withdrawal, withdrew into myself, and curled my soulform around myself in a sort of ball, all wings and intention. I think that's the best intentional shield I've been able to create. (Reminds me of when I was on the bus and trying to protect myself from someone, so I shielded myself by wrapping myself in six wings.) Certainly works better than envisioning energy barriers…

I suspect part of that has to do with another revelation: My knees hurt after having them crossed, especially when I tried to stand up to get ready for bed. Massaging didn't help much, so, energy work it is. Healing. And it WORKED. Damn-near IMMEDIATELY. The energies RARING to go (but not overwhelmingly-- gently, in control, which is unusual for a post-emotions energy pattern).

I investigated why and I think it has something to do with, not just empathic mimicry, my soul taking more traits of hers in "shifts" (synpathy shifts rather than identity shifts, but powerful and greatly affective all the same). I realized it mimics her energies so easily because ours are ALREADY so similar.

Maybe that's why we connected so easily, so accidentally, for so long. Maybe there's something to that whole "like attracts like" magical theory. It's certainly a factor for us.

(I've only ever so rarely seen my soulform outlined in purple, though. ;PPP )

Obviously, the whole "dark energy" thing. That was the giveaway. But also: Existing as two selves, being able to be both physically conscious and astrally at the same time. The levels, the trigger points, the means of control. Even the ways it can flood forth, the reasons, the determining factors whether it's a flood we can direct or lose hold of.

And the connection remains strong enough. It's funny, there was a moment (probably the discussion of what happened to A\zarath) when I was tempted to try reaching out to A\zar. See what THIS version of A\zarath "felt like". Its people, its leader, see if it was simple headcanon or actual Nexus noemata that told me A\zar died the day Ra\ven brought her father there? But I wasn't tranced, and it's a different "angle" (perspective? dimension? facet? I couldn't IMMEDIATELY unlock it and quickly decided I didn't care enough to try that hard, anyways).

Whereas, I think after the last movie, I wondered, "Do we still have the connection? How's she been?" So I kind of… peeked. And I saw her smile. I think maybe it was part pleasant surprise and part reassurance.

Not sure why. She's okay. Empathy, maybe-- her own, that is. Me being happy making her smile? Anyway, there's still something for me to connect to, confirmed. I just… haven't. I saw her as older than the very first night I connected but not nearly visibly as old as me, and wearing white this time. I think that changes from time to time, what she appears to be wearing…

But doesn't she not exist anymore? The weird thing about the canonical ending is I'm Not Sure How I Still Connect To Her.

But canon, all of canon's esoterica, hasn't always impacted the one I connect to. I mean. Gestures at N52 nonsense and how that's not even a blip on the astral radar.

Or maybe there's some… closely-parallel universe shenanigans going on with that. Like how I still sometimes have a connection to a Ma|achite even though she stopped existing in canon, and thus the "wider consciousness". (She hasn't been around much in recent years. I think I've leveled out enough, settled into a comfortable new identity, that our "frequency" is no longer the same? Could be wrong though.)

But for Ra\ven. She also resurrected D.amian. Every other facet of her has defied death before. So like. Maybe it's an astral connection. Astral stuff doesn't follow spacetime rules, in my understanding. So it could be I'm contacting an astral "echo", or that she's simply Still Around, just in a little pocket facet of the astral world.

I'd suppose maybe she's on A\zarath again, like its postmortem astral manifestation, but I'm not sure.

(I'm tempted--a little less than "sorely" but still fairly strongly tempted-- to ask about the sadness in parting with her father. It strikes me as so wrong that I want to see if the one I've connected to feels that. But I'm not sure I'm in a place to delve into that just now. Very much still Processing Things, sleepy, not the clearest of mindsets. I kind of pondered it enough to get a "it's complicated" feeling, and I want to interrogate that it SHOULDN'T be…….. and yet, she was there when my massively abusive stepmonster asked me "You love me, don't you?" and I told her "I don't know", but after a week of trying to figure it out, and knowing it would be easier if I didn't, I realized that, unfortunately, the answer is still YES. So I can't exactly tell her it's wrong when it should be so clear-cut. Like, Ra\ven was an active part of sorting that out. Conversed with her and everything. I probably have the post about that on this blog, actually……..)

…also realizing as I typed that, that the concert (Star/set demonstration #2) could be a huge factor in how "freely" things are "flowing" energetically right now. Concerts ALWAYS leave me on an energy high, rejuvenated and positive and feeling so ALIVE.

I think the movies compounded it. lD But I'm kind of startled to realize the CONTROL of all those excess energies-- and PROCESSING it!-- is heightened, too. (Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I've been listening to witchy podcasts at work, and much more frequently doing energy work? Giving it an outlet, a pressure release valve. Which has always helped immensely…)

Anyway, I have work in the morning and have to sleep, but sometime soon I definitely want to dip back into this Nexus connection and "catch up".

[mohhesham95]

Reset Button

Hello there! It's been a while. I miss writing, I truly do. It gives me some inexplicable joy. The past three years have been very turbulent for me. Starting with a world pandemic and then health problems for my favourite person in the world which scarred me without realising at the time, a failed relationship where I thought she was the love of my life and ending with me failing a very important career exam, twice. Pretty smooth, huh? I'm not the kind of guy who likes to complain or dwell on things. I like to always move forward and do better. But I feel drained, mentally and physically. I guess I gotta get used to adulthood. Life doesn't stop for your misery, apparently. Life has been hectic recently, and I feel like I need a break. I miss uni days, where I could just take a break, travel and explore some exotic country and then come back refreshed with a new apetite for life. I can't believe I just said that I miss uni days. Pretty ironic, that. I'm not writing this to feel sorry for myself. I want to vent all the emotions out so I can move on from all this. Seeing my mother struggling for her life took a lot out of me without realising. I couldn't let it out at the time. Everyone around me was struggling. It was unfair to them. The one person I really wanted to talk to was barely living. I didn't realise how much it affected me at the time because I was so focused on her recovery. Which I'm so grateful for. It was nothing short of a miracle. At the time, I was lost. I felt alone. That led me to a relationship which was not suitable for me. Not a bad person, just not suited for me. I found comfort in that relationship. It gave me hope. It gave me support. Everyone around me was concerned with multiple issues. Ironically, I was not blinded to those issues. I just thought that every relationship has its struggles and you gotta compromise sometimes. Which is true. But you can't compromise yourself. Which I unfortunately did. I put all my energy into this relationship, so it barely gave me any energy for anything else. I got far away from my family, my friends, and even my career. I didn't realise it at the time. I was trying to convince myself that I was happy, but I wasn't. I didn't want to admit that I was wrong. I didn't want to let go of all the memories. I didn't want to feel the same way again, like when my mother was sick. I didn't wanna feel alone, lost, and broken again. I was scared. I was scared to be alone. I was scared not to find someone who loves me. Maybe I still am. But at least now I have clarity, that I'm making the right decision. I was willing to compromise my happiness just not to feel that I let my partner down. I hate to feel that I let down people and she knew that. She pressured me to continue, just so I have to keep my word to her. Maybe I still let her down now, but I believe that heartbreak now is way better than me living with her while not happy. It was one of the most difficult decisions of my life, but I just had to do it. I just felt like I'm losing myself in her. I had to get myself back. Because I don't fail exams twice, that's not me. I don't treat my parents badly. I'm not a distant person. A good relationship should make you a better person. I was decieving myself that it was helping me become better, but it wasn't. I feel drained, but I wanna be better. I wanna make my parents proud. They never gave up on me even during the hardest of times. I'm so grateful for them. They deserve so much better from me. I'm determined to give them that. I'm writing this to remind myself that it will get better. I wanna go back to who I am. I wanna reset and start over. It's time to take a break, recharge, and then come back stronger and work harder than ever. I hope to start writing more often again. Hopefully, the next time we meet, I'll be in a much better place. Time to hit the reset button. See you soon!

[colasap]

A show I would make (If I could)

A story about a celebrity that gets transported to a fantasy world where he's a nobody, and in order for him to return to his normal life, he has to be the hero's plot armor, without getting any recognition for being the true savior of the world. Like, the main hero guy is about to lose a battle, and gives some big speech about determination and friendships, and his big final attack doesn't work at all. But the celeb guy just shoots the bad guy in the head while he's doing the final move, so it looks like his big attack worked. In the beginning the main character self-entitled, arrogant, etc. but by the time he's back he's become more self aware, and overall a better person.

I like this idea because I feel like its a spin on the classic "Nobody gets transported to a fantasy world where he's super powerful and gets all the women" that you typically see done by studios trying to make a quick buck.

I also like it because it takes the concept of plot armor and transforms it into a plot point to be used in a narritive.

The only roadblocks I could see with this idea are that

I'm not sure how it could be explained why things are happening

The show would have to have 0 plot holes, and the MC has to have 0 plot armor. Because how ironic would that be?

I'm not entirely sure if this has been done before, and it probably has. I just thought I would share another idea of mine, no drawings to accompany this one, sorry!

[mobblespsycho100]

TALK ABT AKI HAYAKAWA 🔫

GAHAHAHA OKAY SO:

A big part of Aki's story is a tragedy right, but more specifically the tragedy of futility and change.

his motivation from the start was to avenge his family and kill the Gun devil, and that was the most important thing to occupy his mind. He didn't need friends. He just wanted Gun devil /dead/, and for that he had to become a Public Safety Devil Hunter.

As much as he prefers solitude, he cares so much about people. He doesn't want to watch anyone die in front of him ever again, he doesn't miss that helplessness of being a child and not being able to do anything. So every time he meets someone, he is basically attached to them. He cares for them, even if he tries not to show it. This is most evident with Himeno, when he was still new in the bureau he was quite rude but after witnessing Himeno getting slapped he was like okay " i need to defend her immediately actually 👍." Hes also attached to his old 2nd division buddies (Nomo namely, i forgor everyone elses names) so he was rlly pissed when he saw Reze like take the heads of his old comrades.

ALSO his attidude towards devils and fiends radiclly shifts after Denji and Power started living with him. He's annoyed with them, sure. But he also realizes that they're still very much People. They're not human but they feel, and they breathe, and they laugh and cry and annoy him so so much and they're Alive and he realizes that " oh. maybe . I've been living for vengeance my whole life I didn't know that I could live after I killed the Gun Devil."

Aki doesn't want to die. Of course he doesnt want to die, he's terrified of dying. Yet more importantly, he's scared of /losing/. Hes scared of being unable to do anything, he's scared of watching people die in front of him. So he tries, and he saves. and his foresight granted to him by the Future devil does nothing to help him either because even though he can /see/ it doesn't always mean he can react and. its just sooo... augh

His motivation shifted from avenging the deaths of his mother, father, and brother until his final breath to doing everything he can in his power to protect Denji and Power so they can live. His tragedy is about how he knew the end was near, how at the end he knew Denji would be the one to kill him, and how he was Happy. He died as a Gun fiend, and its ironic because of course it is. How cruel the world is to make him die as the thing he wanted to kill so badly. But its also so bittersweet how he died, being in love with those he cares for so very much. He died thinking that Denji and Power were smiling. He died and returned to being a child , full of innocence and naivety. He died finally getting to play catch with his brother.

Augh. Aki's story is abt determination and perseverance. Chasing and Accepting. Its abt loss its abt hope and its abt Time and futility and change. And its abt destruction, about waking up in the morning and thinking "this could be the day where everything ends" . its about choosing to get up from bed anyway, even if you're unhappy, just to live.

and its about the ones you try to keep close to you, despite it all.

[yeongwonie]

level up

nishimura riki x gn!reader established relationship (0.8k) warnings: video game violence, one (1) d!ck joke

✶ see this is ironic because i suck at val

"how are you this bad?" niki scoffs incredulously.

his eyes are blown in complete awe as he watches your character run around the map like a chicken with its head cut off. he thinks it's a miracle you're still alive.

"shut up," you say, squinting at the monitor in front of you as you finally find a spot to hide. "which one of us died ten seconds in?"

"that's because i let you use my pc. my laptop has like 80 hz."

"i don't know what that means, riki."

setting his laptop down, your boyfriend slides off of the bed and peers over the back of his chair, where you sit.

setting his laptop down, your boyfriend slides off of the bed and peers over the back of his chair, where you sit.

suddenly, you perk up, having spotted a player on the opposing team run across your screen and duck behind a wall. your tongue pokes out between your lips as you furrow our brow in concentration. behind you, niki is uncharacteristically silent, and you smile, wondering if he's impressed by how well you're doing.

you aim and prepare to take your shot. just as you've lined your crosshair up perfectly with your target's head, your vision is obscured.

niki, who had been peacefully watching from over your shoulder (though in hindsight, you should have been suspicious of his silence), quickly lifts the arm you had rested on the keyboard and ducks under it. quicker than you can blink, he's looming over you, one hand placed firmly on each armrest.

"yah, what are you doing?!" you cry, making a futile effort to reach the keyboard again and save your chance at victory.

"avenging myself," he grits, struggling to stand his ground as you attempt to shove him out of the way.

"we were on the same team, idiot, and i didn't even kill you. it was," you trail off, peering around his frame to read the screen, "cvckandbawls6969."

niki's shoulders tremble with laughter, but he shows no intention of moving. sighing, you wrap your arms around his torso and duck your head under his arm so that you can finally see the full monitor once more. you feel him tense, shocked into silence at the close contact.

just as you finally regain control of your mouse and the keyboard, you're shot. your jaw drops open as you watch your avatar pitifully flop to the ground as the red screen of defeat flashes in front of your eyes.

"i'm never playing with you again," you mumble as your shoulders slump in over-exaggerated disappointment. if niki was determined to make you lose, the least you could do was guilt-trip him.

you hear a soft sigh from above you.

"here," he ducks back under your arms and kneels on the floor next to your seat. "you play, and i'll coach you."

still, you frown, thinking about all of the other things you could possibly spend your afternoon doing.

"if you get a kill i'll give you a kiss."

you nod and immediately queue into the next round, a wide grin stretching across your face.

"line your crosshair up with this wall and keep it around that high when you're aiming," he instructs, humming in approval as you quickly comply. 

for a few moment, niki calmly watches you, murmuring tips and directions but generally letting you play for yourself. when he sees the flicker of another player dashing across the corner of your screen, he perks up.

"there! use your skill use your skill," niki exclaims, and your hands freeze over the keyboard. all of your limited knowledge of the game's mechanics he'd taught you immediately flies out of your mind.

"hurry, they're getting closer." niki's voice is rushed with anticipation, and you feel your own heart rate speed up.

when you still don't press down on the proper keys, he reaches over and places his hand atop yours. quickly, niki's index finger holds down the "e" key, and then his hand leaves yours and darts back into his lap.

"good," he murmurs as your enemy is caught in your skill's trap. "now shoot."

teeth tugging on your lower lip, you align your crosshair to the proper height and spam the mouse-button. after a few seconds, a skull appears at the top of your screen, signaling your success.

dropping the mouse and raising your hands above your head, you let out a cheer. you swivel yourself away from the desk with your legs, relieved to have finally gotten a kill.

you turn to your boyfriend and tap a finger to your lips, expectantly.

"what are you doing?" niki asks, clicking his tongue. he grabs your chair's armrest once more and pulls you back to sit in front of the desktop. "the round isn't over yet. kill the other three."