#listen spite is a powerful motivator for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

firebirdsdaughter · 11 months

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What if I…

… Tried to do mbjr week a month later?

#Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #listen spite is a powerful motivator for me #and I am suddenly quite spiteful on Horobi's behalf #who wants writing motivated by SPITE #Binary Retro Rider

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tcfactory · 3 months

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I was talking with someone the other day and it got me thinking about something.

I generally run with the idea that part of the reason why Luo Binghe became THE target for Shen Qingqiu's abuse was because Shen Qingqiu fell for the 'white sheep' routine. Like, it was a lot of things all together: coming to the sect at an unfortunate time (Shen Qingqiu was in a mental health freefall because he was at a bottleneck and struggling to form his core, and here comes Luo Binghe with his perfect aptitude who's expected to blitz through all of the hurdles Shen Qingqiu sweated blood to scale), the pettiness he felt towards Liu Qingge when he picked Luo Binghe out (another bitter association), Luo Binghe having Ning Yingying right away as a friend and support (who stuck with him even against her shizun's orders!!) when Shen Qingqiu was all alone, the jealousy that however briefly Luo Binghe had a loving mother

and the crown jewel on this cake was that Luo Binghe, despite having suffered the death of a loved one and poverty on the streets, still seemed like a naive little ray of sunshine. And no matter what Shen Qingqiu does to him, he remains pathetic and vulnerable in the way that makes kinder people want to take care of him and protect him.

Shen Qingqiu is not a kind man and he knows intimately that the world isn't kind either. Not to pathetic children who don't grow up with the power of a rich family to put them somewhere safe where they can become pathetic, maybe well-meaning maybe not adults. To him it's the harbinger of failure.

The Luo Binghe he sees after picking him up is not smart, not crafty in the way he expects a street kid to be. He's not driven (wanting to make his late mother proud... motivation like that ought to fade with the memories. In four or five years Luo Binghe won't even recall the face or voice of his beloved mother and then Shen Qingqiu will be left with a child with no drive whatsoever). All Luo Binghe has going for him is his bright eyed optimism and his servile nature (which cannot, should not last in a cultivator) and his exceptional aptitude, which is useless on its own.

I struggle to believe that Luo Binghe was the first on the peak who was naturally talented (Shen Qingqiu's ruined cultivation base put him so far behind that even with his hard work, he lagged behind Shang Qinghua whose cultivation is mediocre at best). Or the first to have a support network of friends or a loving family. And as much as Shen Qingqiu resented them for having these gifts that he didn’t, he never tried to destroy them the way he tried to destroy Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe has all the tools of greatness and the hallmarks of failure all in one and it's that combination that triggers Shen Qingqiu's hate. Shen Qingqiu, in his rush to spite Liu Qingge, picked up trash that glitters. He can never admit to this mistake, so he decides that he's going to drive off Luo Binghe or destroy him, whichever happens first, because he can't imagine being stuck with this, this... pathetic little beast. One way or another, he will get rid of him before he can become a stain on Shen Qingqiu's reputation.

And we know how all of that turned out...

But what if he did see through it. Luo Binghe slipped up in his introduction and Shen Qingqiu immediately saw him for the white lotus that he was.

Shen Qingqiu knows the world, he knows its monsters and its beasts. So he looks at this child (not as weak and battered from his life on the street as others, the promise of strength and a bright future written in his meridians) pretending to be small and weak and pathetic and he's terrified.

Only the most dangerous predators pretend to be prey. He took a cuckoo into his nest, he accepted a wolf into his flock. Now it's his job to deal with it, before it grows fangs and bites the hand that feeds it.

He doesn't trust his martial siblings to listen to him on this, to hear him (unpleasant and sharp and biting, hated and hateful) out over the little beast (teary eyed and pathetic, pretty little thing you want to take home and keep safe).

He always did hide his fear the best with hate.

He will wear down this intruder until he can find out what his goal is and destroy him, before the beast can destroy them first.

It's almost a relief, when Luo Binghe stands on the edge of the abyss, his sheepskin torn and staring at him with the resentful eyes of a demon. It's the one moment when he doesn't hate Luo Binghe; he is a demon who will act as a demon does, as is his nature.

Pushing him into oblivion is

relief.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #luo binghe #after reading the extras I'm kinda leaning towards the second now #it's still up for interpretation if he really did see something or it's a self-fulfilling prophecy made by his paranoia #but tbh I don't think even shen yuan could make a good person out of binghe #like the wedding extra is kinda proof that binghe can't even be a good person to the one he loves and loves him in return #so yeah... I might do something with this eventually

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 20 days

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Do you have some Alastor headcanons?

* his first victim was his abusive father; he killed him to protect his mother. She later helped with drowning old bastard's body in the swamp.

* his crimes during his life on earth were largely class-motivated revenge. You know, he was a mixed-race person in the USA during Jim Crow's era so his life wasn't easy. He murdered white, privileged people and ate them as an act of final humiliation. It was a statement, you are nothing more than other animals to me.

* his disdain for people in power was also the reason why he started his career in Hell by killing Overlords.

* he always has been a very spiritual person; it just helped him keep going when the world around him sucked. Also, I think that later it helped him harness his powers since he was already in touch with his energy.

* he loves booze; not to an unhealthy degree (what even is an unhealthy degree when you are dead?) but he likes starting his day with an Old Fashioned or ten. Helps keep things whimsical.

* he absolutely adores electro swing but out of spite doesn't listen to it because Vox introduced it to him. His favorite genres are swing and jazz.

* above all he values his personal freedom; that's why he's determined to avoid close relationships that could potentially be a burden and require him to make sacrifices but also make him dependent. That's why he finds it easy to be (platonically) intimate with Rosie. She's equally powerful, gives him all the space he needs, and doesn't expect anything of him except having a good time together. I've become a huge RadioRose trash recently sksks

* he would love reality TV. Don't @ me, this man said I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful, and fail spectacularly, I wholeheartedly believe he would binge-watch Hell's Kitchen.

#ask #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #radiorose #rosie hazbin hotel #headcanon

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thebibliosphere · 7 months

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The second best thing about fourth wing is I suddenly feel like my own queer disabled genre novel (wip) is gonna be baller, actually. Imposter syndrome out the window.

The best thing about fourth wing is I have suddenly unlocked Power Of Listening To Audiobooks for the first time in my life. I suspect because only half the time my auditory processing crapping out is why I feel like I blacked out and lost the plot, the other half the time it's just the writing. (And I'm primarily spite motivated)

Thanks for triggering this happy afternoon of popcorn munching at this whole nonsense. Currently trying to wrangle a slowly flooding basement so it's the best day to suddenly have something slightly less infuriating to distract me while I can still do other stuff :)

Listen, if this can be an NY #1 bestseller, we all have nothing to worry about. Write that WIP.

And ooft, sorry about the basement. I hope it goes okay!

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hazelnut-u-out · 5 months

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Ahoy! I’m here to talk about the scene in ‘Unmortricken’ again because it’s one of those that pops into my head at 3am.

Another thing I think really adds a layer of depth to C-137’s character and his dynamic with Prime in this scene are their facial expressions, body language, and how they pair with the dialogue choices.

Despite C-137’s lack of dialogue, there are three moments where his resolve breaks and he lets out animalistic shouts/surges in his attack.

1.) ‘I showed you infinity.’

It makes me wonder what about this statement is special. Is infinity equivalent to nothing when you have access to it? Is ‘infinity’ an absurd understatement of what Prime introduced him to?

2.) ‘Raise echoes of my daughter?’

I’m sure we get what this one’s about… Ouch. Reminds me of the Diane AI’s dialogue.

3.) ‘Admit it. You would’ve been me.’

I think this hit a little too close to home. I think C-137 likes to believe this isn’t true, but he’ll never know for sure. There’s no way to ‘prove’ him wrong. That’s probably what haunts him the most.

He very deliberately doesn’t tell Prime how much the death of his family destroyed him. This moment was about Prime knowing C-137 beat him. This moment was about Prime being afraid, not C-137’s grief or rage.

You can see his facial expression change each time Prime strikes a particular chord:

Super subtle, but it’s there. You can see him get angry that Prime dared to mention Morty, but he holds back. He listens until it’s about Beth.

Hmm… Thematic much? Or just a cosmetic connection my mind mistakes for thematic? *ba dum tsss*

Prime laughed until the end, but there are moments you can see him flinch, bite back pain, or dissolve into desperate anger in spite of his giddy/amused mask.

I feel like he even checks to see if Rick saw him wince here.

But… What’s Prime’s motivation if he’s talking to a ‘lesser Rick’? Why waste the energy on trying to hit a nerve or prod for a reaction if he doesn’t care at all?

He gets off on knowing there are infinite Ricks out to get him, and none of them can. He gets off on making them kill each other. Prime is a man of theatrics and grand display, but I don’t think that’s because he’s actually a nihilistic arrogant asshole. I think it’s because he feeds off of the reactions he elicits. He’s so fragile that he needs that acknowledgment of his power to feel powerful, and he needs to feel powerful to be whole.

At the end of the day, Prime has to confront that none of these Ricks are hunting him as much for their hatred of him as they are for their grief of Diane. She’s what they’ll remember. She still has control.

Take a look at the symbolism in his lair. He literally lives in Diane’s shadow.

Somehow, Diane must have bruised his ego.

I’d wager that’s why he erased her. Now, for the big question: Was that because he’s a classic misogynistic abuser whose ego can’t handle a woman with agency, or was it because someone chose her over him?

I know which I’d prefer to see. 🤷

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #unmortricken #prickcest

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jomiddlemarch · 1 year

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touching each forehead, breathing a soul into each immeasurable other

“The problem with wanting,” Aleksander paused, touching her cheek very lightly as if it were a choice and not the consequence of how they had come together, touching her cheek as if she would not recoil and so to spite him, she did not recoil, “is that it makes us weak.”

Candlelight trembled around them, the sense of his shadows as powerful as their actual presence. Alina held her breath, her eyes focused on his lips, curiously more sensitive to him through the tether than she might have been should he have been standing before her in the flesh. He would kiss her next, she was sure of it, and also as uncertain as she’d been when the Fjerdan assassin had tried to murder her in the field twelve miles out of Os Alta. He must and he wouldn’t, not if she listened to the words he said, if she heard the timbre of his voice within her mind like a bell tolled across the sea as a warning of a storm. Or a fire.

She would taste smoke when he kissed her, the fragrance of destruction, of autumn leaves bright a second time in an early evening.

He leaned closer—and pressed his lips very gently to the center of her forehead, a gesture without any carnal desire, the tenderness given as a blessing. He kissed the scar above her brow, whose provenance remained unknown, an injury survived. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the look in his, and he kissed her closed eyelids, even more delicately, first the left and then the right, his hand still cradling her jaw. Next he kissed the apple of her cheek, the slight roughness of his beard against her more compelling than any profession of adoration. He murmured something, some word of endearment in Ravkan so old she could only just recognize it as the most distant echo of the language she spoke, his intonation grave and pure. He kissed her temple and spot beside her mouth where she dimpled when she smiled, each caress filled with a tremendous warmth and the most generous affection that asked her for nothing, praised her for everything, that conveyed respect and delight without any demand or condition.

“I don’t want you,” he said.

“You don’t,” she said, as evenly as she could. He saw the self-control she mustered to keep the remark a statement, not a question.

“I love you,” he replied. “That is something beyond want, beyond need.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. He would argue now, that he had given her ample evidence of his uncompromising devotion, had shared himself in degrees unfamiliar to anyone else living, had made love to her with a near-abandon and sought her with an unflagging determination; he would make excuses for the stag’s collar and the Fold, excuses for himself and excuses for her. He would argue and she would stop him with her mouth on his, taking the words from his tongue with her own ravishing.

“I know, moya dusha, I know and I carry that, the way I carry the wounds on my face, my hand,” he said. “I hope you will stop needing to believe and will begin to feel. To know that whatever mistakes I have made—and there have been too many—that I have loved you throughout, so thoroughly I could not always have recognized it, as I could not always be aware of the blood in my veins, the thoughts that I would dream when I dared to sleep.”

“A pretty speech,” she said. She tried to sneer and failed, the words uttered with more despair than she would have liked him to have noticed.

“A pack of lies is what you mean, but I cannot find a way to make the truth truer,” he said. “I would ask you to consider, for your own safety, those you have decided to join forces with, their motives, their actions and the consequences thereof—”

“Because you’re so much better? So much kinder and gentler?” she snapped.

“Marie, Pavel and Polina are not here to speak for themselves, but they died for you and the Little Palace, at the hands of the ones you call allies,” Aleksander said. “You have told me yourself of Orestev’s choices. Nikolai is the best of the Lantsovs but true only to himself, absent when the people have needed him most. It may take more to kill you than an otkazat’sya, but Grisha, Summoners such as we are, are not true immortals. I have trusted the wrong people myself. I have paid the price in my own blood and in the breath of those I loved most dearly. I would not have that for you. Become a Sankta if you will—don’t become a martyr.”

“You’re not being fair,” she said. He touched her cheek again, brushed back the hair coming loose around her face. No one had ever looked at her with such an expression before, knowing and care inextricable, Alina herself precious.

“I’m sorry I haven’t made a world for you where that matters,” he said. “I tried, Saints know I’ve tried but I failed. I didn’t want this for you—”

“I’m not a child,” she said.

“You are my beloved, whatever I am to you,” he said. “I’ll leave you now, but you have only to call for me and I will answer.”

“And if I don’t call? If I never call?” she asked.

“I will still wait for you. Waiting in a world you live in is nothing to me—I waited so long in the world before you came, when you were only a hope, not Alina,” he said, smiling at her. His dark eyes shone, perhaps with tears. The tether made it difficult to ascertain, though she tasted salt in her own mouth. He began to retreat, the space between them opening, his image losing definition.

“Don’t,” she said, her impulse made into a word, a gesture with her palm outstretched, the one that would take his injured hand. She hadn’t stopped herself, finding, when she considered it, that she didn’t want to.

“Don’t go.”

#darklina #alina/aleksander #season 2 #canon au #romance #fix-it fic #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #sab #shadow and bone #kissing #soft!thedarkling

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heliosoll · 1 year

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how did you deal with shifting not "working", like waking up in your cr after u went to sleep intending to wake up in your dr? like i know thats not a problem for you now, but before you shifted for the first time, how did you deal with that? for me, once i shift for the first time i have it scripted that ill be able to shift instantly etc. and ik technically thats true now, but after 3yrs of not seeing any progress, aiming to wake up in my dr is all i can muster. :/

Hm... if you mean how I dealt with it emotionally then:

I know it can be hard but don't blame yourself or insult yourself. You tried your best and that's what matter. Always be kind to yourself, even if you don't quite believe it yet!

Persist! Again, I know it's hard when it's been so long, but you've come this far. Ask yourself this question and answer sincerely, do you really want to give up? Some people might say yes, but if the answer is no, that's more than enough reason to keep going. You will shift. Believe in yourself more!

Take breaks when you need to! Don't let yourself get burnt out or spiteful toward shifting. If you need to chill and not think about it for a while, that's okay!

Try to stay motivated! Remember how you felt when you first discovered shifting or feel the emotions you know you'll have once you shift. Immerse yourself in your DR!

Now, if you meant what steps I took to actually shift for the first time after "failing" for a year:

First, failure in shifting doesn't exist. Trust me, I know how that sounds, but it's true. It simply doesn't exist. Whether you think of every action as a shift or not, failure isn't real. It's perceived. It's okay to feel bad and angry but once you've felt those emotions, take a deep breath and remind yourself that you are in control and that you literally cannot fail.

As a side note on the "failure not real" thing, the only thing "holding you back" is you. Now listen I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad, okay? I understand how shitty that sounds and how your first reaction is probably "fuck off". I get it! I had the same reaction back then. But literally nothing and no one can stop you from shifting. Not the method, the time of day, the universe, or any deity or spirit. Nothing! NOTHING is holding you back. I know it can be hard, but getting comfortable with the idea that it's all you and learning how to not blame outside factors will really help in your shifting journey.

Most of the time when people are "failing", it's because of a belief they have. Maybe they still think shifting is fake and have the belief that it will never work. Maybe they believe they're not powerful enough or worthy enough. Maybe they think shifting is inherently hard and takes some people a lot of time to get there. Maybe they think methods matter. I don't know what beliefs you have, but when you get the time, truly go over each and every one. Do you have a belief that could be affecting your shifts?

If that's the case, start telling yourself that you'll shift no matter what. I really need you to understand that you can shift whenever you want, regardless of everything. You don't need a perfect self concept. You don't need perfect mental health. You can have limiting beliefs and still shift. Nothing matters! Truly let that sink in. Internalize the fact that shifting is all up to you and what you're telling yourself.

And above all, have fun!!!!! Too many people suck all the fun out of shifting for themselves. They create these intense rituals they don't even like, force themselves to try methods they hate, constantly insult themselves, and get jealous of other shifters. It's awful! Shifting is supposed to be fun! It's not supposed to be something that takes all your energy or something that makes you miserable. Seriously, if shifting is ever making you feel bad, take a step back and reassess some things. Let yourself have fun with shifting and I promise you'll see a lot more results!

#quick how many times have i said the word truly on this blog #i think i'm going insane #letters 🎀#reality shifting

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doodlesfromthebird · 1 year

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Heya I've been drawing for a few years now but I'm still learning every day and I'm more than aware of the skill gap between me and others which is fine I am willing to work hard and improve. You and your art is a really big inspiration to me and I hope to reach your level someday. Can't help however but be really demotivated and easily affected by the difference between me and others and I know I shouldn't compare myself with people who have been drawing for wayyy longer than I have. What was your experience while improving your art? Any words of wisdom from the bird? I love drawing and I don't want to lose this kind of connection to it but most of the hours I spend practising are driven by spite and hatred over my own self aaaagh is this too personal lol thank god for the anonymous option lol I LOVE YOUR ART, I look at everything your passion for art overflows through your work.

Hey, pal! It's nothing to fret over, and I'm glad you feel comfortable sharing this! I think getting all your thoughts out this way is already good way to start, and I hope that alone was able to let off some steam on the subject.

I absolutely know how this feels, and it's still something that crops up for me time to time, too! It's gotten easier to manage over the years, but there's certainly times where it's taken the wind outta my sails and sunk my energy to be creative.

I think when you're wrapped up in that headspace, the best thing to do is stop the struggle and don't try to force progress. Don't even allow yourself to problem solve, or ask anything from yourself when that cloud's over your head. There have been plenty of times where I just end up making myself feel worse by simply asking "why do I like to create in the first place?" because I'll come up with overly critical answers "well, it's the only thing I'm good at"

Wait til you've distanced yourself from that frustration, and then give yourself time to reflect. Why do you actually enjoy making art? What about your connection to your creativity is so special to you? At what point in time did you enjoy drawing the most, and why? Why do you want to improve in the first place?

It's difficult because I think it's wonderful that you're pushing yourself to improve and practice. There's been many times where I've wished I could go back in time and tell myself to get more serious about practicing sooner. However, I absolutely don't think it's worth putting strain on your connection with your creativity. I think spite can be a powerful motivator, but when it's fueled by your own dissatisfaction and hatred for your own work, it cuts off the flow of that essential part of you that loves to create for the sake of it.

Sitting down to practice is going to feel like torture, because that spark of joy just CAN'T get to ya when you're trying to appease that part of you that thinks its you're gonna get left behind if you don't work harder. Brute forcing improvement has absolutely worked for some people! But it's also completely normal for that work style to make YOU feel miserable if it's at odds with how you actually enjoy drawing.

Is this all to say that you should only try to get better when you're in LOVE with how you feel about art? Not at all! You don't have to try and add any special feelings or force positivity, you just have to remove the resistance and the burden you put on yourself as best you can.

So if I could suggest anything, as corny as it may sound: be more kind to yourself. I mean it! Make peace with where you are. Celebrate your small wins. Detach yourself from it, if nothing else. Your art isn't always going to look better than it did yesterday, but look back on your work from a year ago! If you don't like the way your art looks, that's fine! That can be 100% true and it doesn't have to be a bad thing. You're going to improve. Take inspired action and practice in a way that draws that connection you treasure with art closer to you. Spend more time listening and indulging in what the creative in you wants to do in between study sessions.

I can comfortably say that I'm at the skill level where younger me would have wanted to aspire to be at. And yet, I have MANY days where I look at my work and wished it looked like someone else's. I still stare at a blank canvas with an idea in my head and feel dejected because my skill level isn't up to par with what I want to achieve. I promise you your art has value the way it looks Right Now.

Once you give yourself that grace, you're going to start looking forward to practicing. The inspiration that'll hit is going to motivate you to try things you might never have thought you'd attempt. Once you look at your work differently, your work is going to change. That's not going to be easy at first, but you can start by just saying "I am where I am, and I'm getting ready to be even better."

If you're interested in some suggestions to maybe get in the flow, while also satisfy the brain's need for Progress when practicing just isn't hittin' right:

Challenge yourself to scribble whatever pops into your head. Anything. Maybe it's absurdly complicated! Who cares. draw The Last Supper from memory in five minutes as best you can. Draw an insane fight scene with stick figures in weird angles. Your brain is going to !!HATE!! doing it, but that's fine! It's going to force you to detach from it. Allow yourself to create something that's bad and can be thrown away right after. Don't spend more than 30 minutes on these. Take the most complicated ideas off a pedestal by just Attempting them anyway.

Challenge yourself to draw only what would appease your inner child for a full day. If you used to trace over screenshots from a tv show to insert a fan character in, DO THAT. Draw something while listening to the soundtrack of one of your favorite video games as a child. Draw an alternative book cover for one of your favorite childhood books.

Practice anatomy by turning the models your referencing from into your favorite characters.

Color/paint a scene/character by picking colors from a screenshot in a movie you really like.

put on a favorite show/movie and draw for the entire duration of an episode/movie run-time. Draw passively without the intention of showing it to anyone.

draw a bunch of large, wonky shapes that fill up the entire canvas/paper and draw mini illustrations contained within those shapes.

IF ALL ELSE FAILS!!! GO TAKE A NAP!!! :) Don't be hard on yourself for being hard on yourself, either. Allow yourself time and ease.

I hope any of this brought hope, or comfort, or even just something to consider. I'm so glad you enjoy my art!! Thank you for your kind words. You and I and everyone else are walking this same road to improvement, and even though sometimes it might not feel that way, we're ALL walking side by side. You aren't alone, friend.

#letters to the bird

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hungerofhadarr · 2 months

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Listen . We all know Isaac dead space would easily beat Jacob Callisto protocol in a fight . Isaac cares little for his body and even with the fact Jacob probably has like 75 pounds on Isaac , Isaac probably has a few inches of a height advantage that makes him just too tall to wrangle . Isaac would fling himself around and would just start throwing shit at Jacob until he said uncle or something .This is not the point of this post , however

Isaac would grab Jacob by the back of his suit and drag him to better . He is motivated first by self preservation but secondly by preserving those around him . If Jacob tried that self sacrifice at the end ( the exact same sacrifice Isaac attempts too . Literally mirrors he and Ellie in ds2) on Isaac it would fail TREMENDOUSLY . All of us or none of us get to leave man . Isaac is over the sacrifices he is pulling that man by his scruff to find another ship .

And If you drop John dead space three in there too ? Literally good luck Jacob you are now stuck with two men who are fuelled by powerful levels of spite and they are going to Get the Fuck off Callisto no matter what . Oh , you think you should be dead ? Yeah , probably . But you’ re not . Come on man we gotta find another ship to get off this rock . They’ ve played this game before and they can see how Jacob changes in response to everything ( same as they did ) and they’ ll keep him focused on what they Have to do .

Don’ t even get me started on Dani and Ellie . They’ re inseparable . Dani’ s hacking and Ellie’ s piloting skills ? They’ d be off Callisto in five minutes . Not to mention their drives to figure out what is happening and how to stop it ? Literally put them in a room with the biophage / marker and it’ ll be Dealt With .

Do NOT pit them against each other they should be holding hands and getting the FUCK out of there

#dead space #the callisto protocol #jacob lee #dani nakamura #ellie langford #isaac clarke #john carver #isaac would hit Jacob over the head with a fire extinguisher multiple times yes but they would be friends after

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anonymousfoz · 8 months

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The Earth, Stars and Moon (Part 4)

Part 3 | Part 5

Taglist: @quinnharperwrites, @holdmyteaplease, @yesireadbooks, @teacupsandstarlight, @vite-poh, @theoracleofgiana, @writeblr-of-my-own

The wolf den was a lush forest with a lake and numerous fluffy boys. Some were shifters and some were wild animals, but the pack was strong, with Sister Wolf leading. The teenager was hesitant to approach due to a fear of wolves, but Brother Bear had assured her safety. It took some time to get used to the smell of wet dog, but the teenager had settled nearby the group of bison that were like children to Brother Bear. They were much calmer, and a few had fallen asleep beside the teenager. The teen just felt out of place, and for good reason. She wasn’t like Brother Bear or Sister Wolf; she wasn’t chosen into this life but born into it. She heard the subtle clops of hooves and got up to see a golden buck standing over her. A majestic creature to some, but to her it was just dad.

“Neptune. Where are the others?”

“With all the wolves.”

“Do they-”

“No. They don’t know Father. I know what happens if your wife finds out that I am alive.” The teenager began to pet one of the sleeping bison. Neptune was always aware of what her existence meant to her dad and what Mother Moon could do if she were discovered. Mother Moon knew she existed, but had thought Neptune died when she was a young infant. Her dad just didn’t have the guts to kill her, and she was glad for that. He was an amazing dad, but he was always on edge of his wife finding out. It was why Neptune needed to become a part of the group with Sister Wolf and Brother Bear. If she was accepted in and a tribe claimed her, there was nothing Mother Moon could do. But time was against the father-daughter duo.

“You can tell James. He doesn’t like Moonie.” Neptune looked at her father with a confused glare, before he responded, “Brother Bear is James. I gave them names, remember?”

“I always thought James was the annoying coyote.” Neptune looked up at the sunset before letting out an exhale. “Dad... do you think I will be accepted by a tribe? What if I’m not good enough?”

“Neppy, don’t think like that. It takes time to learn about your powers and traits. James and Adelita took years to figure out their craft and get accepted by a tribe.”

“We don’t have time. I know what I am, but I just can’t grasp anything.” The buck sat in silence, thinking of anything to make Neptune feel better, but he had nothing. Father Sun wasn’t good when it came to fast thinking.

“You are right about that, but you already know your animal and special abilities. You are a smart individual with two great teachers around you. You will figure something out. You always do. Meanwhile, I’m stuck listening to my wife about my mistakes and how I’m not raising the sun correctly. Like it’s in the sky? What more does she want!?” Neptune let out a small chuckle at her dad’s anger. He had loved his job of being the keeper of the sun, but he was quick to anger when it came to people telling him how to do it. The two continued to talk before the sun set and Father Sun had to go to Mother Moon. He pranced off into the darkness before the moon rose. The sleeping bison let out a grunt before waking up and running off to a figure in the distance who was Brother Bear. Neptune went quiet as the large man sat down beside her.

“I’m guessing you heard everything?”

“Not everything, but Tatanka right here informed me of what I needed to know.” Neptune hadn’t thought of the fact that the bison could have been listening the entire time. Her heartbeat began to skyrocket out of fear of what could happen. Brother Bear got up and extended his hand out to her. Neptune was hesitant, but did take his hand. The two of them and Tatanka headed deeper into the Wolf Den. What was in store for Neptune was unknown, as she failed at keeping her secret safe. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll make sure you remain safe, even if spite is the only thing that motivates me.” With that, Neptune took a sigh of relief, and the rest of the night was a blurry memory for her.

But for Brother Bear, this raised more questions than answers. He had figured the coyote was lying about sending them after the child, after all Mother Moon never would have done that. It was out of character, but for Father Sun, it made perfect sense. But how did Father Sun have a daughter with another woman? And there couldn’t be anyone that was assigned a fox as their animal, as that was Sapphire’s animal. It couldn’t be claimed. It was smart and undetectable at the time, due to how annoying the coyote was. Brother Bear was fine with doing anything to spite Mother Moon and he clearly cared for Father Sun, but this was all so sudden and confusing.

“Beary, the kid is asleep. What did you want to tell me?” Sister Wolf came out of the tent and stood beside the 6 foot man.

“Would you ever report anything to Mother Moon?” Sister Wolf gave a side eye to the question. It was a random question, but he had to ask despite knowing the answer, mainly for reassurance.

“Of course not. We both know what she did to Sapphire. Her marriage with Father Sun has been on the rocks since then.”

“Apparently before then. I’ll explain in the morning. You need some sleep.”

“What? I’m perfectly fine to spend another 72 hours awake.”

“The bags under your eyes tell me another story.” Sister Wolf let out a nervous chuckle before hugging Brother Bear. “Would telling you a story help you sleep?” Brother Bear let out a sigh as Sister Wolf began to nod. He knew the story she wanted him to tell. It was always the same story; he grew sick of telling it over and over, but he would do it over and over for his little sister. While they weren’t related through blood, it didn’t matter. The large man carried the younger woman to an elderly tree and sat down before telling the story.

“It all started back when I was a lad…”

#the earth stars and moon #writeblr #writing #my writing #fantasy #fiction

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titleknown · 7 months

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HELLOWEEN #3 HARKHAROLD

-HARKHAROLD is a Great Lesser Herald of Hell, with 54 sour notes and 128 pieces beneath his command. He may be summoned to aid in the summoning of other Demons (though will not provide this for Amduscias) and may grant the acme of compositional skill or the presence of cacophony or sour notes when desired. He appears as a robed man with a unicorn's horn playing a trumpet, emerging from a brass automaton that walks on four legs-

Bitter and envious seems to describe this individual, who would appear by all accounts to be a successful emcee and composer for the powerful and the aspirational. I have listened to his work, and it is surprisingly... well constructed. Not pleasant, but elegant in the very least.

And yet, he seems to have an unending bitterness for Amduscias, the chief musician of Hell, who he has tried upon multiple occasions to poison, both aurally via means such as his "sour notes" and by other means.

it seems to be motivated by the feeling that Amduscias is a talentless hack, that he got there by proximity to one of the Council of Satans, seemingly more on principle than on logic (And perhaps a small amount of spite for past incidents he refused to elaborate upon).

I mentioned that poisoning would likely not be the triumph that he thinks he would be, as the act of poisoning does not seem related to the talent that appears to be the axis of his envy. He threw me against the wall for that...

-Xavier X. Xolomon , Monsterologist and Understudy to The Librarian Of Babel

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SO, I made this person after I asked for ideas and someone suggested the idea of a "herald" demon that announces the prescence of other demons. I got to thinking about instruments and then about Hell's existing musician in folklore, and the rest sort of followed from there.

As per usual the whole descriptions, designs, ectcetera from this project are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY 4.0 license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

#my art #my writing #demon #music #horn #doot #helloween

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random-senpai · 1 year

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Another REALLY interesting thing to take note of is that the narration of Sean and his abilities this chapter is a direct parallel to the explanation on the chapter after he dies in the 100th loop and lets him serve as a foil to himself!

In the 100th loop he's nothing but a criminal who abuses his powers to commit crimes and takes Fuuko's life without Anno Un's intervention.

Rip enhances and "develops" his ability by force through surgically implanting him with a 3rd eye, but the core issue of his arrogance thanks to being unseen is still what leads to his demise.

His characterization is also consistent with what we know now too. The irony is that his death was caused by the choice he made to kill Fuuko, and why did he choose to kill her? Because he wanted a higher seat. Even deep into the criminal lifestyle and having lost sight of his original goals Sean is still motivated by shining more than others.

Now lets compare this to this week's chapter where he meets Fuuko, remembers his father and his original dreams,

He chooses to listen and help Fuuko and through these new bonds he's able to develop his abilities to something his previous self was never capable of.

Literally everything about him is a perfect foil to himself in the 100th loop.

- Fuuko develops his abilities through bonds and friendship Vs Rip grafts an additional eye on him to get rid of the biggest downside to Unseen.

-Fuuko saves Sean's life and he truly becomes part of Union Vs him killing Fuuko and dooming Union to fail in the 100th loop.

-Sean puts his faith in Fuuko and considers her a brother Vs Sean refusing to take orders and treating Rip with spite.

-Even the paneling itself serves as a foil. In ch 49 he dies silently falling to ground in one page as the narration explains what a terrible person he was and the weaknesses of his ability. Compare that to ch 149 where the narration occurs at the end of the chapter and explains how his new bonds have given him strength and a new ability he never had before. On the final double page spread he triumphantly says "Are you watching me now old man." A line that serves a dual purpose both as a taunt towards Creed and a heartfelt message to his father in the afterlife.

It's just masterful how everything fits together perfectly despite LITERALLY being 100/101 chapters apart. And we get this amazing development and attchment for this large cast without jeapordizing the pacing of the plot or the importance of the main characters.

It's such a shame that Undead Unluck is so slept on cause writing with this degree of quality, foreshadowing, and consistency is such a rarity. And I really hope the anime helps this become well known instead of the hidden gem it currently is.

#undead unluck #Sean Datz #THIS CHAPTER IS JUST UGHHH #SO GOOD #and i NEEDED to get this off my chest cause this manga is so slept on ITS A CRIME

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mypoeticsoul-ny · 9 months

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“Here is a truth you often don’t hear:

Traumatized women have the potential to become the most powerful people in this world.

The most ignorant members of society call this type of woman “damaged.” But she is the most powerful type of woman there is.

What they forget is that survivors have the most dangerous advantage of all: resilience.

When you try and you try but you can never bring a woman down, you’ll know there is no going back.

Don’t fool yourself. You could never defeat her. You never will.

This is the woman who will always rise from the dead; Lady Lazarus, after going through hell and back.

This is the woman who has burned her feet in the flames time and time again and always lives to tell another tale – even if she has to crawl back to life. . . .

When someone tells her, “You can’t do it,” she says, “Watch me.”

She is fiery light birthed out of wintery darkness. Brought into the underworld by Hades, Persephone brings forth spring and rebirth when she reemerges finally from the cold.

She owns her shadows and seamlessly weaves them into the fabric of her freedom, creativity, imagination and independence. . . .

She lived all of her nightmares in high definition. She was given every reason to give up, handed every justification to never believe in herself or anyone.

But there is raw magic in the ways in which she cultivates a faith in herself, to manifest the dreams her soul was meant to bring forth.

Despite it all, she still conquers.

She still survives and thrives.

The “damaged” woman is capable of immense manifestation not just in spite of, but because of the traumas she has gone through.

There is no one more motivated than a woman who has constantly been told what she cannot do or who she cannot be throughout her lifetime.

There is no one more determined to succeed than someone who has nothing left to lose.

The “damaged” woman doesn’t sign up for the hardships of her journey – but she plays the hell out of the cards she’s been dealt.

The “damaged” woman is not damaged at all – she is wounded, and in channeling and healing her wounds, she becomes the source of incredible energy, the site of unbelievable potential for abundance and change.

She possesses the power to use her wounds for the greater good and her highest good.

She builds her own success and becomes her own rugged hero; tends to her own scraped knees.

She uses every stone thrown at her to build the foundation for her empire.

Brick by brick she builds – and despite every attempt to tear her walls down, she rescues herself again and again.

Despite it all, this type of survivor may still face hatred, envy, greed from those around her. . . .

As a result, she becomes the survivor of countless witch hunts, the target of many persecutors. Yet when they try to burn her at the stake, she does what comes naturally: she resurrects herself. . . .

Now when she creates, she creates new worlds and transforms and manifests on a level that cannot be recreated by someone who never had to struggle to survive.

When you hear the voice of a powerful survivor and the will of a warrior – there is nothing you can do but to stop and listen.

She is the voice of a million lifetimes lived.

She is the voice of the hopeless and the powerless when the fire is brought back to their eyes. She is the harbinger of the justice that the voiceless have longed to hear and feel and touch.

Regardless of how much you try and how it may seem, you can never truly bring a survivor like this to her knees; she already knows the value her scars bring.

She knows how to fill the cracks between her wounds with gold.

She knows how to transform each bitter word cast upon her into an iron-clad will that will set her and other caged birds free.

You can’t ever defeat a “damaged” woman, because she knows exactly how to save herself.”

~ Shahida Arabi, excerpts from SHE IS POWERFUL

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2treez · 1 month

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She is powerful!

Traumatized women have the potential to become the most powerful people in this world.

The most ignorant members of society call this type of woman “damaged.” But she is the most powerful type of woman there is.

What they forget is that survivors have the most dangerous advantage of all: resilience.

When you try and you try but you can never bring a woman down, you’ll know there is no going back.

Don’t fool yourself. You could never defeat her. You never will.

This is the woman who will always rise from the dead; Lady Lazarus, after going through hell and back.

This is the woman who has burned her feet in the flames time and time again and always lives to tell another tale – even if she has to crawl back to life. . . .

She was never given love or approval on a silver platter, so in order to survive, she had to love herself in a way others could only dream of.

She fought tooth and nail for her own self-acceptance.

No one cuddled her as a child or told her pretty things; she had to fend for herself each step of the way.

She knows she can survive because she already has and will.

When someone tells her, “You can’t do it,” she says, “Watch me.”

She is fiery light birthed out of wintery darkness. Brought into the underworld by Hades, Persephone brings forth spring and rebirth when she reemerges finally from the cold.

She owns her shadows and seamlessly weaves them into the fabric of her freedom, creativity, imagination and independence.

All of her life, she was given every evidence of human cruelty and the evil people were capable of.

She understood early on that the monsters people dreamed of existed in human skin.