#terminal spirit disease

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔄𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰 - 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔡

#At the Gates #Terminal Spirit Disease #Forever Blind #Full-length #Release date: #July 18th #1994 #Genre: #Melodic Death Metal #Themes: #Inner struggles #Death #Anti-religion #Society #Pessimism #Sweden

[formulas-fatal-to-your-mom]

#At the Gates #slaughter of the soul #the red in the sky is ours #at war with reality #melodic death metal #death metal #to drink from the night itself #terminal spirit disease #hypocrisy #edge of sanity #dark tranquillity #the haunted #in flames #swedish melodic death metal

[restinfesteringslime]

Terminal Spirit Disease At The Gates Terminal Spirit Disease

#at the gates #terminal spirit disease #melodic death metal #swedish death metal #Spotify

[thelowestorder]

At the Gates - Terminal Spirit Disease

#at the gates #terminal spirit disease #melodic death metal #sweden

[eschercaine]

Nevermore characters based from Edgar Allan Poe’s works

Lenore (from the poem “The Raven”)

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly, I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Nameless here for evermore.

Annabel Lee (from the poem “Annabel Lee”)

It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.

Morella (from the gothic horror short story “Morella”)

With a feeling of deep yet most singular affection I regarded my friend Morella. Thrown by accident into her society many years ago, my soul, from our first meeting, burned with fires it had never known. But the fires were not of Eros—and bitter and tormenting to my eager spirit was the gradual conviction that I could in no manner define their unusual meaning, or regulate their vague intensity. Yet we met, and Fate bound us together at the altar, and I never spoke of love, or dreamed of passion. She, however, shunned society and attaching herself to me alone rendered me happy. It is a happiness to wonder. It is a happiness to think.

Duke (from the humorous short story “The Duc de L’Omelette”)

A golden cage bore the luxurious little wanderer, enamoured, melting, indolent, to the Chaussee D’Antin, from its home in far Peru. From its queenly possessor La Bellissima, to the Duc de L’Omelette, six peers of the empire conveyed the happy bird. It was ‘All for Love.’

Ada (from the poem “Tamerlane”)

One noon of a bright summer’s day I pass’d from out the matted bow’r Where in a deep, still slumber lay My Ada. In that peaceful hour, A silent gaze was my farewell. I had no other solace—then T’awake her, and a falsehood tell Of a feign’d journey, were again To trust the weakness of my heart To her soft thrilling voice: To part Thus, haply, while in sleep she dream’d Of long delight, nor yet had deem’d Awake, that I had held a thought Of parting, were with madness fraught; I knew not woman’s heart, alas! Tho’ lov’d, and loving—let it pass.—

Prospero (from the short story “The Masque of the Red Death”)

The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had been ever so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avator and its seal — the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleedings at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest-ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease were the incidents of half an hour. But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless, and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince’s own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair from without or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballêt-dancers, there were musicians, there were cards, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death.”

Pluto (from the short story “The Black Cat”)

Pluto—this was the cat’s name—was my favorite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even in difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.

#nevermore #nevermore webtoon #lenore #annabel lee #morella #duke #ada #prospero #pluto #lenore nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #morella nevermore #duke nevermore #ada nevermore #prospero nevermore #pluto nevermore #nevermore lenore #nevermore annabel lee #nevermore morella #nevermore duke #nevermore ada #nevermore prospero #nevermore pluto #webtoon

[venusvity]

₊˚ 🌙 ♡𓂋 ☄️ 。ﾟ✷   BETWEEN THE FOUR OF THEM: BAEBI, CHLOE, KLARA, AND SENA EXIT FLOWERBANK ENTERTAINMENT.

By SHENUS | April 18th, 2024

Finally revealed to the public this morning, the four members of VENUS who filed to terminate their Flowerbank contracts are Jung Yoonah, professionally known as Baebi, Chloe Lee, Klara Blix, and Kim Sena. The four members successfully terminated their contracts under Flowerbank with the help of high profile lawyers provided to them by none other than Tanaka Hana, former idol now a board director at Mydol Entertainment.

"Though we tried to find common ground with Yoonah, Chloe, Klara, and Sena they were strong in their stance in leaving the company. We will not hold anyone hostage under our label therefore, we have released them from their contracts." — Carmen Bae, CEO of Flowerbank Entertainment.

Despite the contract termination being mutually agreed upon, court documents show Flowerbank attempting to copyright multiple Venus properties such as "Baebi", "Klara Blix", and "VENUS" as well as attempting to buy the masters of Venus' discography. These attempts were made too late it seems as public record shows MYDOL Entertainment owns the rights to the entire VENUS brand as well as VENUS' masters being owned by none other than Son Jinhwa.

With very little shock to fans, the four members of VENUS would sign their MYDOL contracts publicly on April 21st with the entire staff present.

The girls seemed in high spirits at their contract signing though there seemed to be no groupchat discussion on what they should wear.

"We tried many times to get Bliss to join us in this decision but she was more dedicated to our previous company than she was to Venus. We will miss working with her and her talents but we will continue as four. Please continue to support us and Bliss as we go on this new journey." — Jung Yoonah via The Mydol Contract Signing.

The departure of Bliss has been quite the controversial one as Bliss had been with the group since their debut in 2018. Conspiraicies began to circulate due the statements made at Venus' Mydol contract signing as well as Bliss' unusual silence on the matter. Instead of Bliss making a statement, Flowerbank would release on that threatened legal action against anyone defaming their artist.

"It was mutually agreed upon that Bliss would stay with Flowerbank Entertainment and exit the group while the four members would continue as Venus elsewhere. Any other statements made about our artist are unfoundl, untrue, and will be met with legal action." Though this statement seemed to please fans of Bliss, they were still worried for her future. Where will she go? What will she do? Many feared she would fall victim to Actress Disease but Flowerbank would once again soothe their worries with another statment.

"Bliss will continue to work in the idol industry as a soloist. She will be making her debut in the future but for now, she will use this time to rest and heal. She will come back when she's ready. PLease give her patience and kindness during this time." After this statement Bliss would go on to post on her Instagram story, assuring fans she was alright and the decision to stay with Flowerbank was her own.

TRANSCRIPTION: just letting you all know that i’m alright <3 it was a great journey with venus and though i wanted it to end differently, it’s over and that’s okay. great things must end. i won’t compromise my morals for something i was never meant to do forever. i wish the other girls luck and hope nothing but the best for them. constellations please don’t worry!! i’ll love you always and am always greatful for your support and love over these years <33 please stay tuned for my upcoming journey! i can’t wait to share it all with you!! xoxo, bliss

Still, this decision left fans upset, confused, and conflicted. Despite signing the contract today, Klara has already been seen in the studio with DeepDive's Finn allegedly working on music for Venus' comeback, making fans believe this move was more premeditated than they're being led on to believe. Chloe was seen in the studio with a DeepDive member as well, Noah Son, her typical go to producer for her solo music, leading fans to believe more solo comebacks are in the works.

Much is still in the air for Venus and for Bliss as they start this new journey. Fans anxiously await the girls next move, ready to support them blindly as usual.

HOW DID THIS NEW MAKE YOU FEEL? LEAVE YOUR COMMENT HERE!

#fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idol oc #idol au #kpop addition #bts addition #kpop au #oc kpop group #fake kpop oc #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop idol #fictional idol group #idolverse #oc girl group #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop idol

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter VII

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 5K

Beta. @starstofillmydream

4 Helona

Through the skylights of the vaulted ceilings, Eluca’s three moons painted the main level in a sea of blue. Streaks of gray and blue-white danced along the walls like friendly spirits, playing across the clones seated at the kitchen table. 

Kazi wasn’t staring at the clones, though. Her attention was drawn to the opposite mezzanine above the sunroom. To the little girl surreptitiously spying. 

Lying on her stomach while peering through the wooden spokes of the banisters, Neyti scrutinized the clones’ nighttime card game. The concentrated stitch in her eyebrows heightened her intrigue. 

Only three clones sat at the kitchen table—Commanders Cody and Fox, and trooper Nova. Too focused on their game—a game that had already resulted in an argument between the two commanders—they didn’t notice their spy. 

“She’s similar to you.”

The voice surprised her so much she jumped. Kazi blinked at her sister, resting a palm against the wall to steady herself. The ends of Daria’s mouth twitched but she didn’t smile. Her gaze rested on Neyti, who was so focused on the clones she remained oblivious to their watching.

“She’s curious about the men,” Daria said. “She watches them the way you do.”

Kazi sniffed. “I don’t watch them.”

“You do.” 

Dressed in a black, nearly sheer nightgown, her green eyes alit with a knowing gleam, Daria looked like a shadow. A shadow that observed all around and traded in secrets. 

Kazi shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t like the idea of anyone watching her, much less studying her.

“You watch them because you don’t trust them.” Daria hefted something behind her back. “You’ve been amassing a list of problematic behaviors, biding your time until they’re sure to mess up, and when they do, you’ll be ready to condemn every single one of their flaws.”

Disconcerted by her sister’s assessment, Kazi tugged on the end of her braid. “You don’t know me.”

“Not anymore. But I did, once,” Daria said quietly. “You used to do it with Mama. You would wait months, and when you couldn’t hold it all in anymore, you would burst.”

“That was years ago,” she muttered. 

Daria shrugged and returned her attention to a now-yawning Neyti. “I stand by what I said: you’re both similar.”

“We’re not.” Kazi folded her arms over her chest. “Neyti is sweet and kind and forgiving. She’s curious about the clones because they’re unknowns. Not because she’s mistrustful.”

“She’s curious about the men because you are. Have you wondered why she maintains her distance? Why she looks to you whenever a decision must be made where the men are concerned?” Daria breathed a wry chuckle. “She sees how wary you are of them and she mimics you. You’re so unaware of the effect you have on her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Daria gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you seriously so surprised to learn that a little girl looks up to you?”

“Neyti doesn’t look up to me.” Kazi scoffed. “There’s nothing inspirational or encouraging about me.”

“I used to look up to you.”

The honesty in Daria’s tone—the wistful hurt quieting her voice—made Kazi wince. 

It was bizarre to remember those early years. The time when they were little girls who played together, who laughed together, who cried together, who dreamt together. 

There was a time when they were inseparable, their two-year age difference a nonexistent barrier. 

There was a time Kazi promised to always protect her sister. A time when she promised they would always be friends. 

Their father’s death changed everything.

Kazi sought comfort in solitude; as the seasons changed and the dead bitterness of winter gave way to the aromatic blooms of spring, the bond with her sister shriveled and died. 

The thing about being sisters was: Kazi loved Daria. She always would. And she knew Daria would always love her. 

So this broken bond between them, a bond amassed from memories of warmth and security and unconditional love, hurt worse than any physical pain. Because it was a hurt borne from the possibilities that could have been, and the silent weeping of two little girls who lost their anchors.

Most nights she yearned for the years when her sister looked at her with awe and love.

Now, Daria’s face only ever held disappointment. 

The disappointment of a little sister whose older sister abandoned her. 

“I didn’t know you kept this,” Daria said, drawing Kazi from her thoughts. She flipped open a page of the leather-bound book in her hands.

Kazi stiffened. A spike of anger singed her blood. 

Carefully preserved in Daria’s hands was her adventure book, an old, worn thing her mother gifted her when she was a toddler as a means to store memories. The first forty pages housed printed photos from her early childhood. From the years before her father died. The last sixty pages were blank. 

The adventure book had sat in the closet of her old home. Collecting dust and forgotten by all except Kazi, she tried to throw it away. But she couldn’t. The photos were too evocative and the memories too visceral. 

She couldn’t throw it away because she was sentimental, and she was desperate to cling to a time when life was innocent and she was hopeful. 

Kazi gritted her teeth. “What were you doing in my room?” 

“I saw your knitting stitches on your desk,” Daria said calmly, unrepentantly. “I didn’t know you still knitted—”

“I don’t.” Daria gave her a disbelieving look, and Kazi clenched her fists. “I wanted to see if I could still do it.”

For a long moment Daria studied her, and she knew, from whatever her sister saw in her face, that she didn’t believe her. 

“I saw this tucked away,” Daria said, returning her attention to the book. “Almost like you’re ashamed of it.”

“It’s a silly book,” Kazi muttered. 

“And yet you kept it.” More pages flipped; photos of a happy family flickered. “It was important enough for you to take from Ceaia.”

Ignoring the emotion clogging the back of her throat, Kazi eyed her sister. “What do you want?”

“Do you remember when we would visit the harbor and steal the fishermen’s best catches?” Daria ran a finger down a faded photo—a photo of the two sisters, smiles wide and teeth missing, as they posed at a festival. “Do you remember the woman who almost caught us?”

She remembered. She remembered all of it.

They would hide among the ships’ containers, listening to the fishermen boast their catches of the day. Usually larger fish.  

Some occasions a fisherman would come across a star succulent, or a turtle, or an anemone: creatures that could survive outside the water. The fishermen would place bets on the price of their rare catches. When they were distracted, Kazi and Daria would sneak aboard their ships, find the creatures, and free them.

One afternoon a female sailor caught them throwing a turtle overboard. The two sisters managed to dodge the sailor’s attempt to wrangle them, and they sprinted away. Days later, the sailor was still grousing about the miscreants. Kazi and Daria didn’t return to the harbor for three weeks.

They were never caught. 

“I was so scared,” Daria said. “I thought we would get in trouble, but you always convinced me to go. I could never refuse you.”

The urge to look at her adventure book was too hard to resist and Kazi caved. A new page of photos displayed the old lighthouse. Their lighthouse.

“I remember the time we were stuck here.” Tracing the lighthouse’s exterior, Daria quietly laughed. “The lightning was awful and I thought we were going to be struck. I was so scared and you kept telling me it was going to be okay, but I wouldn’t calm down.” Green eyes lifted to hers, searching. “Do you remember what you did then?”

“I told you a story,” Kazi said hoarsely. “The legend of the Sea Dragon.”

“The Sea Dragon.” The moonlight cast Daria’s countenance in a grayish darkness similar to that stormy night so long ago. “You told me he was watching over us. That he was with us so we didn’t need to be afraid.”

Kazi thought back to that day. 

The sight of a tear-stained, six-year-old Daria cowering in the corner of the lighthouse’s watch tower. The water slowly rising. The sheer terror of not knowing how to protect and comfort her little sister. So she started to tell Daria a story, like her father used to do when she was scared, and the first story that came to mind was the legend of Sea. 

By the end of the story, Daria had quieted. She was no longer shivering.

A crackle of lightning had split the air and eight-year-old Kazi squeezed her sister’s hand. “Are you okay?”

Daria squeezed back, smiling wetly. “I’m not scared, Kazi. Not when you’re with me.”

“When we got home, Mama and Papa were livid. You took the blame. You told them you forced me to go with you.” Daria stared at her, confusing wrinkling her features. “I never understood why you did that.”

Kazi looked away. 

“You kept this, and your dragon,” Daria mused. A soft snap of leather and then Daria pushed the adventure book into her hands. “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I know.” 

Shaking her head, Daria appraised her with a bemusement that bordered frustration. “I thought you didn’t care about us—about our culture. Our traditions. You went to the capital and I thought for sure you would adopt the Culturalist way of life.”

The Ceaian people were split into three groups—Traditionalists, Reformists, and Culturalists. 

Long ago, two sects of Ceaians coexisted, both revering the dragons and upholding traditions. But as centuries passed, and the last of the dragons perished, one group of people broke away. They were the Reformists. 

The Reformists turned the legends of old into dogmatic opinions of society and the world. No longer were the legends to be stories admired and awed; instead, interpretation of the legends enforced societal expectations of gender roles, marriage, and wealth. 

It was the Reformists who determined Higher and Lower Society—the refined versus the rugged. Similar to Traditionalists, they scorned technological reliance, but believed the cultural practices of the Traditionalists were too “common.”

Kazi’s mother came from a Reformist family.

The Traditionalists, on the other hand, lived among the ocean’s shores—sailors at heart. They maintained their culture and legends; they worshipped the natural process of life and respected all living things. 

Most Traditionalists refused the advent of technology that swept across the galaxy. Droids were uncommon and typically frowned upon. Traditionalists valued humanity first and foremost. Their cultural practices relied on a connection to the earth, a reverence for folklore, and a humble lifestyle built upon the legends of their people. 

Kazi’s father was a Traditionalist. 

Over the millennia, the Reformists built Ceaia’s major cities and established its central government. But then, a new sect emerged: the Culturalists. A people who sneered the Reformists’ hierarchy and scorned the Traditionalists’ “common” way of life.

The Culturalists respected technological advancements, belittled old legends and traditional values, and practiced the ways of the galaxy. Eventually they opened Ceaia’s spaceports to interplanetary travel. They learned new cultures and political ideologies. 

Their name—Culturalist—was originally coined by the Reformists. To sneer upon those who deemed tradition a nuisance. However, the Culturalists adopted the title, declaring their superiority based on their relations with other planetary systems, and their understanding of the galaxy at large. 

Most Culturalists looked down on the Traditionalists. Only the Reformists were taken seriously, thanks to their self-righteous view of advancement that permeated the Culturalist’s mindset today. Even then, the Culturalists emphasized choice rather than societal expectations.

Over time, and enraged by the Culturalists’ view of life, the Reformists returned to Ceaia’s mountain ranges and harbors, abandoning the cities they had built. They reclaimed localities and smaller cities, maintaining their doctrines on society. The Culturalists took control of the central government. But Ceaia’s central government lacked true, authoritative power. Today, the sole power exercised was relations with other planetary systems.

“You’re right,” Daria said, exhaling a bitter breath. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what ideologies you subscribe to. I don’t know why you have your dragon when it’s not in your room. I don’t even know if you still believe the legends. Or if they’re simply myths to be ridiculed and forgotten.”

No matter how cynical she became, Kazi would always believe in the dragons. They were stories that inspired. The stories that gave her meaning. 

“Some days I wish we were out on the boat with Papa,” Kazi said quietly. “I wish we were sitting out there. Just us and the waves and the gray sky.” She closed her eyes and pictured their old sailboat, the waves tossing them about, and the wind whipping her hair, and the ache in her cheeks from grinning and laughing too much. Too hard. “Everything was so simple back then.”

It was a time when loneliness, familial duty, and fears of disappointment were nonexistent. It was a time when she felt alive.

“What boat?” The question snapped Kazi from her memories and she found Daria frowning at her. “What boat are you talking about?”

The anger lining her sister’s tone caught Kazi by surprise. “The boat, Daria. We spent hours every weekend on it. Sometimes we went out after a long school day.”

Daria clenched her hands at her sides. Her knuckles were white; her fists were trembling. “There was never a boat.” 

Beads of sweat silvered her forehead. Daria brushed them away. 

Nonplussed, Kazi took a step forward but her sister retreated, blinking wildly. 

“There was never a boat. I don’t remember a boat.” A scowl marred Daria’s features. The whites of her eyes were enlarging. “You’re wrong. There was never a boat. What are you talking about? A boat? What fucking boat?”

“You’re right,” Kazi said hastily. She rested a firm but unthreatening hand on her sister’s shoulder, aware of Daria’s increased shivering. “I was wrong. There was never a boat.” 

Goosebumps dotted her arms and Daria eyed Kazi doubtfully. Confusion and anger hunched her shoulders inwards. She looked small. Frail.

“It’s late,” Kazi said gently. “Why don’t we get you into bed, okay?”

Indecipherable mumbles followed them down the hallway and into Daria’s room. As Kazi helped her sister into bed, each symptom tallied in her mind—a mental report for Healer Natasha. 

Memory loss was expected twenty months into the disease’s progression. Ultimately, it would steal all of Daria’s memories. She would exist in a world where she no longer knew her own name.

A world where she would forget their childhood, their parents.

A world where she would be alone. 

Bile rose in the back of Kazi’s throat. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. 

She blamed the lack of sleep, the number of arguments the past few days, and the stress from last night and this morning.

But blame truly rested in this moment. In the knowledge that her sister had forgotten the boat. Forgotten years spent at sea. And soon, she would forget more than just a silly boat.

Her little sister, the one person she had loved more in this galaxy than anyone else, would no longer remember her. 

“Kazi?” Tucked into her bed, Daria fiddled with her light purple sheets, tracing a white flower embroidered along the hem. “Do you know why Papa stopped loving me?”

Kazi blinked her bemusement. “He never stopped loving you. Why would you say that?”

“He doesn’t take me out on the boat anymore.”

Daria’s train of thought both bewildered and exhausted her. The way her sister forgot the boat and then remembered it, but only seemed to remember a specific memory associated with it, left her feeling behind and twisted inside out. 

Kazi didn’t know if Daria’s feelings were an accurate representation of her current thoughts. She didn’t know if her sister ever questioned whether their father loved her.

Even in childhood it was obvious that Daria was their mother’s favorite and Kazi was their father’s. The unspoken favoritism was more overt the older she got. But Kazi had always thought her father was fair in his treatment of Daria. He wasn’t her mother—he never taunted Daria until her emotions overflowed.

Now that she thought about it, he had been harder on Daria.

Though both sisters were opinionated and stubborn, Kazi kept her opinions to herself, and her stubbornness never stopped her from disobeying her parents. Daria, on the other hand, made her anger known. And she never shied from obstinately refusing orders she didn’t like.  

Disagreements led to raised voices, and many tears, and moments when Kazi hid in her room, finding it difficult to breathe while she listened to angered shouts. She hid for hours, waiting for the anger to turn on her. Expecting it, because it always happened. She was always blamed.

She always held some resentment against Daria for those moments. For some reason, she never blamed her father. 

Squeezing Daria’s shoulder, Kazi managed a tired smile. “Papa always loved you.”

“Promise?”

Daria stared at her with such blatant hope it hurt. Buried itself into her chest, like a fishing hook, and yanked. Hard. 

“I promise.”

5 Helona

Avoidance was a skill Kazi had honed over the years.

Too nervous to make a final decision out of fear of making the wrong decision, she learned to avoid her problems. Ignore them until they forced her one way and the decision was made for her. 

But avoidance tendencies didn’t pair well with her level-headed mindset. She was self-reliant. To a point bordering hyper-independence. Responsible and disciplined, she had to be in control. 

And yet the fear—the fear of mistakes and being wrong—was crippling. 

Her mind was constantly at war: avoidance versus control; fear versus independence.

Kazi had managed to avoid Commander Wolffe for nearly two days. An incredible feat, if she was being honest, considering they cohabitated. 

Her conversation with Commander Cody had left her reeling. Like she’d stepped off a cliff and was plunging toward the ocean below, except the water was much farther than she originally thought. She was caught in the in-between and she didn’t know how to move forward. 

So she avoided the commander and ignored any issue related to him. 

Sitting on the uneven porch steps, Kazi laced her boots, eyeing the sky. Gray clouds were amassing, cloud swells ebbing, expanding from horizon to horizon. The weather gauge claimed it wouldn’t rain for another three hours. 

Maybe it was arrogant of her, but she decided the ten-kilometer walk to Neyti’s school was doable. A small part of her thought Neyti would appreciate the change in scenery. 

Anyway, she needed the fresh air. Needed the movement of a long walk to ease her tension, from the arguments the last few evenings and the unsettling sight of Daria this afternoon. She had found her sister smiling absentmindedly at an empty corner in the sunroom. The sight had unnerved her enough, she refused to dwell on it.  

Dressed in loose trousers and a black tank top—her early return from work allowed her to change into comfortable clothes—she pushed herself to her feet and started along the dirt path. 

With the sun curtained behind the clouds, the jungle’s temperature was cooler and tolerable. Kazi tilted her head to the sky. She made it a handful of meters before movement from the trees caught her attention. 

A frisson of alarm pricked the nape of her neck. Her heart lurched and her stomach fell.

Sweating and breathing heavily, Commander Wolffe emerged from the entangled trees of the dense jungle. He was slowing to a walk. His hands were on his hips. He looked like he’d just finished a hard run. 

Kazi froze. Desperation encouraged her to hide in the nearby trees; however, pride kept her feet glued to her spot. 

The commander seemed lost to his thoughts. Unaware and unobservant. Odd for someone like him. He lifted his black shirt to wipe at his face. That was, until his gaze landed on her.

An array of emotions played across his face, like one of those old toys she had as a youngling. A click of a button displayed an image, and if you clicked it fast enough, the images turned into a holofilm. 

Distraction blinked into surprise, furrowed into reservation, and then settled into apathy. 

Disconcerted, Kazi started to turn away, content to pretend she hadn’t seen him. 

The commander had other plans. Plans that resulted in him taking a step towards her. And then another. 

Kazi was too caught in her head—unable to decide between walking away and holding her ground. It didn’t matter. Commander Wolffe approached her. A healthy meter separated them. 

Maybe she should apologize, but she didn’t want him to think it was a false apology brought forth by proximity—

“I thought you worked.”

The hoarseness of his voice mixed with his non-question made her spine straighten. She tried to force her shoulders to relax. They didn’t.

“I do.” 

Vines thicker than her legs looped between the trees. Kazi could have stared at them for another hour to avoid his gaze, but she didn’t want to be a coward. So she met his eyes, remembering the hostility from two nights ago. The accusation and disdain and antipathy.

“I took off early,” she said, glancing at the graying clouds under the pretense of assessing the weather. When she looked back, he was observing her in a way that was familiar yet still set her on edge. “To pick up Neyti from school,” she added.

The commander nodded. 

For a moment it seemed the silence would expand indefinitely.

Commander Wolffe looked toward the house and then back at her. A hand slid through his hair. His jaw flexed; his posture was unnaturally stiff, agitated.

“May I join you?”

Her immediate answer was a resounding ‘No,’ but her chin dipped. In acceptance. 

Swallowing her discomfort, Kazi walked away, gaze set firmly on the dirt path ahead and the wild jungle enveloping the horizon. The commander appeared at her side. 

Kazi slipped her hands into her pockets. Not to hide their slight trembling. Never that. Merely for the aesthetic.

“I spoke with Cody,” the commander said. He clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze set on the path as well. “He said you talked.”

“We did.” A bird trilled, the sudden noise making her tense. “We spent some time in the garden.”

“You sound surprised.” The statement bordered accusation, his tone sharper than a dragon’s claws.

“I was. But not because he’s a clone.” She pursed her lips. “I was surprised he wanted to talk to me. I thought that after…”

“My brother likes to play diplomat and interfere where he’s not wanted.” Commander Wolffe rolled his shoulders back. “He told me to apologize—”

Kazi stopped, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not interested in forced apologies. If you’re only here because of your brother, you can go back to the house and tell him you apologized, but I’m not in the mood—”

“I agree with Cody. On some parts.” Commander Wolffe crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down, hesitating. “I overheard you. Last week. At the warehouse.”

Frowning, Kazi thought back to the day at the warehouse. It was the meeting with Fehr, Bash, and Carinthia. The meeting the three commanders interrupted. The meeting where Commander Wolffe first asked her to analyze his intel. 

“You told her you’re analyzing patterns of deserted clones. For the magistrate.”

“I am,” Kazi said slowly. 

She assessed the wariness darkening his features, the ticked muscle in his jaw. Everything—the abrupt change in his offer and the severity of his mistrust—suddenly made sense. 

“The magistrate asked me and I couldn’t refuse,” she said. “But I’m not going to do anything that endangers your missions. If it comes to it, I’ll scrub the data. I’ll correct the reports. Anyway, being on this project gives me an opportunity to warn you if something comes up.”

Disbelief flickered across his face and she tried not to feel offended. “Why would you do that?”

“What? Help you?” At his guarded scowl, she rolled her eyes. “Because, if you’re discovered, you lead a trail straight to my house. To my family. Because, I may not know you, and we may have our disagreements, but I would never turn someone over to the Empire.” 

His apathetic expression miffed her and she looked away, shaking her head. “You may not trust me, and that’s fine, but I’m not a traitor.”

“And you think I am,” he said lowly. 

“No.” The intensity of his gaze was hotter than Eluca’s sun at the height of summer. Kazi squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry for what I said.” 

The commander winced at her apology, either from shock or doubt, she didn’t know. 

“I had no right to accuse you of being culpable in the rise of the Empire,” she said. “And I had no right to call you a traitor.”

Commander Wolffe didn’t seem to know how to react. He was stuck somewhere between skepticism and perplexity. 

Discomfited by the awkward silence, Kazi drew her hands from her trousers’ pockets, turned on her heel, and continued along her original path. Only a few seconds passed before the crunch of dried soil alerted her to the commander’s presence. 

They walked together in silence. For a long time.

The scent of soil and coming rain surrounded Kazi. A low roll of thunder sounded far away. Beneath the dense confines of the jungle, she felt small. A pollinator lost in a field of wildflowers. Content for the moment yet unreasonably lonely. 

A throat cleared. Hands clasped behind his back, Commander Wolffe walked with an air of command, authoritative and intimidating. Kazi forced herself to walk straight, to not create more distance between their bodies. 

“My brothers…” He paused. “They mean everything to me.”

The corners of her lips twitched. “I know.”

He hesitated. “I had no right to question your credibility and skillset.”

Remorse underscored his tone, and Kazi nodded at his apology.

At the edge of the jungle, they halted. Above, the darkening clouds cast the commander in a somber light, emphasizing his haggardness. Stress lines wearied his features; unspoken duty hardened his posture. 

“I’ve seen how the Empire operates,” Commander Wolffe said. “Anyone will betray another for more power. Or money. I won’t allow my brothers to be in a similar position again.”

The emptiness in his eyes was both hollow and guarded, and yet the firm resolve in his tone spoke of his protectiveness. 

“My mission with Cody didn’t go as planned.” Annoyance lined his tone, underscored by a twinge of regret. “We infiltrated a military outpost and were caught by a handful of soldiers. We thought we could convince them to join us. To desert.” He released a bitter chuckle. “They said we were traitors and then killed the men we had come to rescue.”

Kazi felt the blood in her face drain.

“I thought you were running rescue missions, Commander. Where are your rescued soldiers?”

“I thought, if given the opportunity, those men would desert,” Wolffe said. Even though his eyes were on hers, they were distant. Like he was replaying the mission. “They looked at me like I was the worst scum in the galaxy. I was pissed at myself. And I took my anger out on you. I apologize for it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kazi whispered hoarsely. “I shouldn’t have said those things, and I’m so—”

“I said things I regret, too.” He cleared his throat. “This work with the magistrate—”

Instinctively, Kazi tensed, prepared for accusation or disdain or complaint. Wolffe noticed the change in her demeanor and scowled.

“I’m not questioning you.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m only asking if it’s safe.”

“Safe?” Her eyebrows scrunched together and she shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re intentionally misleading the magistrate by interfering with collected data,” he deadpanned. “If you’re caught—”

“I know how to handle data like this.” The doubt in his expression was offensive. Kazi dusted an imaginary spot from her arm. “I’m used to this. It was my job for years.”

Wolffe arched a brow. “Spying?”

“Analyzing intel and determining if it was credible and reliable.”

“That’s not the same as scrubbing—”

“We were feeding intel to the Empire: intentionally scrubbed and misaligned data that would interfere with their analytics without raising alarms.” Kazi played with the end of a braid. “I studied military weapons’ sales, numbers, storage. I split time between there and analyzing Imperial weapons’ construction.”

A hint of intrigue flashed across his face. “There were rumors some military technology was missing in the Outer Rim. It was kept quiet.”

Kazi smiled wryly. “Ceaia was unimportant in the Clone War. We were overlooked by the Empire. And from what I know, our allies were preparing for a coordinated rebellion.” Her voice faltered and she looked away. “We were gearing up for the long-term. We weren’t prepared for the Empire’s attack.”

Embarrassment warmed her cheeks and she shrugged, rubbing at her chest. 

It was stupid to share that information with the commander. He wasn’t interested in her past, and even if he was, it didn’t concern him. They were nothing more than random people cohabiting. 

Kazi glanced at her chrono. “I need to pick up Neyti. Alone. She’s still not entirely comfortable around you and I don’t want to force her—”

“I understand.” Wolffe surveyed the neighborhood bordering the jungle’s edge and then levelled a hard look on her. “You are aware you’re safe with us.”

She managed a tight smile. “Okay.”

“Ennari.” He said her last name quietly, seriously. She opened her mouth—to demand an explanation as to how he knew it when not even the rebel network knew her real last name—but he cut her off. “We won’t hurt any of you.”

“I know—”

“If a threat presents itself, we will protect you.” 

The promise in his tone was both genuine and lethal, and as Wolffe held her gaze, she knew she could trust him to keep his promise. 

Whatever he saw in her face seemed to satisfy him because he turned around and left. 

Soon the shadows claimed him. 

And still Kazi didn’t move, staring after him. 

Masterlist | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

A/N: Next chapter release – February 22nd

Tag: @ulchabhangorm

#I Yearn and so I Fear #commander wolffe x oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe #oc: kazi ennari #commander wolffe x ofc #star wars fanfiction #star wars fan fiction #commander wolffe fan fiction #commander wolffe fanfiction

[caseeliz]

Eda nothlit!Luz: Part One

She was a sweet, poetic kind of girl. The kind bullies love to pick on. She used to have short, out-of-control hair and dreamy eyes that always seemed to be looking at something no one else could see.

Used to...

Now she has striking, fierce eyes that look through you like laser beams. Now she has long gray hair, and ghostly white skin, and an angular face, and clawed hands, and a tall stature.

A piece of Belos landed on Luz instead of Hunter when he was splattered to the wall by the Collector. In the Human Realm, the unhealed scar he gave her gives Belos an opening into her body, and he slips into her system unnoticed. During Halloween, he takes control of her when she and Hunter come across a vial of Titan’s Blood. While confessing to her loved ones that she helped Belos find the Collector and showed him the Light Glyph, Luz attempts a murder-suicide on the emperor by trying to drown herself in the graveyard swamp’s waters with him in her body after she regains control. They both survive, but the possession severely prostrates Luz and covers her in scars by the time Belos leaves her body to return to the Demon Realm using the Titan’s Blood. Luz chases him to the other side of the portal with what little strength she has, her mother and friends following her.

Back in the Boiling Isles, nobody knows how to save Luz when she starts to waste away after collapsing a few feet from the portal. When she reaches the point between life and death, her spirit meets King’s father in the In Between Realm. He gives her the power to morph and tells her that she already has Eda’s DNA in her from the “body swap” spell, which was actually a morphing spell. She is able to transform into a genetic copy of Eda with the location of an Escafil Device in the Demon Realm and the knowledge of where on planet Earth another morphing cube is imparted to her by the Titan before returning to the mortal plane, but discovers that her newfound morphing powers can’t heal her unmorphed form since there is still some of Belos’s unremovable essence within her human body which - instead of being purged - is sent into Z-space along with her original form by morphing and takes effect again if she demorphs. She becomes a nothlit - a person who lost their morphing powers because they got trapped for the rest of their life in a morph by staying morphed for more than two hours at a time - to safely shunt away the leftover part of Belos that had been slowly killing her forever, though her palisman egg that she brought to the Demon Realm does not hatch despite her finally achieving her dream of becoming a witch.

Realizing that the Titan screwed her over as much as he saved her life, Luz becomes even more despondent and begins to doubt her relationship with Amity could still work now that everyone will think she is too old to be having even a crush on a 14-year-old witch. Camila can’t look at her without getting uncomfortable or sad because the body Luz trapped herself in is to her mom the copied body of a complete stranger, which leads her to think that her mother is acting as though she really did die; this gets Luz wondering if she is even still Luz or if her late father Manny would still be Manny if he gained morphing powers and used them to nothlit into another body to cure the terminal disease he had, which in my story was genetic and thus could not have been removed through any other means. Amity assures her that a way for Luz to regain her morphing powers which comes with the restoration of her human body will be found when they get their hands on an Escafil Device, and the team tries to cheer her up by saying they do not blame her for the Day of Unity as Belos manipulated her; Hunter even states that Belos most likely would've used somebody else instead if he hadn’t used Luz, while Camila asserts that she does not think she lost Luz just because her child’s only two options were to get stuck in a morph or die. Her resolve back, Luz declares it is time to fight back against the emperor.

Have fun making fanfics and fan art out of that, everyone!

My name is Luz. A freak of nature. One of a kind. I won't tell you my last name. I can't tell you my last name. Or the name of the city where I live. I want to tell you everything, but I can't give any clues to my true identity. Or the identity of the others. Everything I will tell you is true. I know it's going to seem unbelievable, but believe it anyway. I am Luz. I'm a normal kid, I guess. Or used to be. I used to do okay in school. Not great, but not bad either. Just okay. I guess I was a dweeb, kind of. Big, but not big enough to keep from getting picked on. I had brown hair, kind of wild because I could never get it to look right. My eyes were . . . what color were my eyes? It's only been a few weeks, and already I'm forgetting things about my human self.

#animorphs #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #alternate universe #crossover #canon divergence #toh #the owl house #au #nothlit

[envihellbender]

Give each Fear a Ghost song

I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

For each song I’ve given a snap shot of lyrics that i think represent the fear, some are on the nose and some are more based on vibe…

The Buried: Square Hammer

Hiding from the light

Sacrificing nothing

Still you call on me for entrance to the shrine

Hammering the nails

Into a sacred coffin

You call on me for powers clandestine

The Corruption: Rats

In times of turmoil

In times like these

Beliefs contagious

Spreading disease

The Dark: Darkness at the Heart of my Love

And all this time you knew

That I would put you through

The darkness at the heart of my love

For you

When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always

The Desolation: Deus in Abstentia

The world is on fire

And you are here to stay and burn with me

A funeral pyre

And we are here to revel forevermore

The End: Absolution

Ever since you were born you've been dying

Every day a little more you've been dying

Dying to reach the setting sun

As a child, with your mind on the horizon

Over corpses, to the prize you kept your eyes on

Trying to be the chosen one

The Eye: Watcher in the Sky

Searchlights, searchlights

Looking for the watcher in the sky

Evil-utionary the optics for us

To get answers as to why

We signal to another dimension

That we stand here ready for reply

The Flesh: Spillways

When stripped of rags of skin and spine

Human decay, Corpus dei

Terminally dispelled

And it's such a ride

The Hunt: Hunter’s Moon

Under a headstone, sister

I'm dying to see you, my friend

Back in the old cemetery

I'm dying to see you, my friend

Though my memories are faded

They come back to haunt me once again

And though my mind is somewhat jaded

Now it's time for me to strike again

The Lonely: Secular Haze

You know that the fog is here omnipresent

When the diseases sees no cure

You know that the fog is here omnipresent

When the intents remain obscure

Forevermore

Weave us a mist, fog weaver

Hide us in shadows

Unfathomable wall-less maze

A secular haze

The Slaughter: Twenties

Listen up, hatchet man

Set controls for the heart of the land

Tell 'em all it is time

You're the next in the chain of command

Apparition

Direct the course for collision

Suspicion

For the Reich to come to fruition

The Spiral: See the Light

Many a mind I have haunted

And in many a way, I have been

Often the one to have flaunted

An image grotesque and obscene

But of all these dark roads that I roam

None could compare to you

The Stranger: Jesus He Knows Me

Won't find me practicing what I'm preaching

Won't find me making no sacrifice

But I can get you a pocketful of miracles

If you promise to be good, try to be nice

God will take good care of you

Just do as I say, not as I do

The Vast: He Is

We're standing here by the abyss and the world is in flames

Two star-crossed lovers reaching out to the beast with many names

He is

He's the shining and the light without whom I cannot see

And he is

Insurrection, he is spite, he's the force that made me be

The Web: Spirit

Throw yourself

Into the vessel

Of possibilities

Your green muse

The apparatus

For soul mobility

A gateway to secrecy

Bonus-

The Extinction: Bible

Now no one heard that voice anymore

And metal-cities came to ascend

On the fifth day spring turned into fall

And a rain fell over the land

But no walls can stop such a rain

That keeps on falling forever more

I was told that by the sixth day

The earth was like an open sore

#the band ghost #the magnus archives #ghost x Magnus archives #envi writes

[ask-grovetalesans]

Background of Grovetale

In Grovetale, all the monsters are tree spirits, each embodying the essence of a specific tree species. The Au is a lush, peaceful and tranquil enchanted forest teeming with life and magic. Tree spirits, like Gingko and his brother Maple, coexist peacefully, their existence intertwined with the natural world around them. The balance of nature is sacred, with the spirits nurturing and protecting their host trees.

However, a mysterious illness called Blight threatens this harmony, afflicting both tree spirits and their host trees. Blight is a slow, terminal disease with symptoms including fatigue, coughing, and respiratory issues. Despite its gradual onset, Blight is ultimately unstoppable, leading to the inevitable demise of both the afflicted spirit and its host tree. The origins and cure of Blight remain shrouded in mystery, leaving those affected to confront their mortality with courage and resilience.

It has been found that the spirits and trees infected with blight can have the illness slowed with Healing magic.

Those infected with The Blight throw up black sludge every so often... this Sludge is highly infectious and must be cleaned up by either humans or others who are not a part of the Forest Grove.

Be sure to wash your hands or paws well after coming into contact with the Sludge... Do not touch spirits or trees after touching the Sludge.,, unless, you wish them a slow and sometimes painful death.

#Undertale au #Grovetale au #GingkoSans

[fountainpenguin]

I came across your story "Flypaper" about the superhero convention (Fun read! Highly recommend!) and I was just wondering if you had any other interaction headcanons that didn't make the final draft?

Oh thank you... and oh, yes. I didn't include him because I knew no one would know who he is, but I love one special, incredibly charming boy... King Off-Putting himself... Bruno :)

He is so very... uncomfortable to be around.

I had one line referencing Bruno and Danny in "Flypaper" but hhh... Dead Boy Duo, my beloved... I want them to be friends so bad, I want them to be sassy partners in the field, I want this with all my soul. They're brothers in spirit... Their moms have the same voice actor... Please, they would be so funny together.

I know there are oodles of fictional spy agencies in media, but I've always been a Bruno the Kid fan at heart. Ever since I first watched Danny Phantom, I've loved the idea of Globe getting in touch with Danny post-"Phantom Planet" and inviting him into the agency... Sometimes Bruno's villains canonically die instead of going to jail and I think Bruno and Danny would be a silly pair. Two "dead" (they got better!) cartoon boys goofing off and takin' names.

Specifically, Chick E. Love would have a flippin' field day burning holes in the Ghost Zone, unleashing wave after wave of ghosts into the world, and I just really want Bruno to do his "If I ever use a spy gadget the way it's intended I will die" schtick while Danny keeps dumping all the Fenton ghost-hunting gear on him...

I want the sassy boys to drive everyone up the wall. Bruno tolerated being bullied for about 5 seconds and then ruined that kid's life slkdjf. Cheerfully told Cy what he wanted to put on his tombstone. He does not mess around. I want Bruno to straight-up kill a man again and Danny to lose his mind.

Bruno is the boy who ran gleefully towards an electric fence with intent to climb it. He literally targeted HIMSELF with a missile in an attempt to win a chess game. I want the crossover joy of Danny throwing himself at everything that might kill Bruno and Bruno just Does Not Sweat It... Stupid.

[More under the cut]

Anyway yeah I have very normal feelings about "Dead Boy Walking" as an episode. Bruno's enemies pinning him down and injecting a terminal disease in his system... Bruno stumbling around until he hallucinates his best friend giving him self-care advice... Bruno quietly sitting down and staring into the void, separating himself from the ongoing conversation, instead of engaging in his usual banter... Boy crosses Australia on borrowed time, his legs give out beneath him at the worst moment, he's still wheezing about how he's going to do everything in his power to save others, just a little kid lying on the cold floor alone while Sydney gloats that he only has minutes left to live... His enemies making out over his unmoving body... I am so normal about this episode.

I just want Bruno and Danny to be friends :) I think they would vibe with each other even though they'd both want to bonk the other on the head. I so very badly want to see the first moment Danny realizes "Oh... Oh, this guy's, like... serious. He will kill people if I take my eyes off him." sldkfj Bruno's so intense and I love him. Danny is so tired and I love him. I want to see the first moment Bruno blearily wakes up to realize Danny just saved him from a ghost's revenge attack in the middle of the night. I love the Dead Boy Duo.

I only threw one line about these two hanging out in "Flypaper," but in my heart they spent the whole convention together because they're co-workers... they are buddies, your honor.

I do not think WordGirl would like Bruno at all because he comes off as a smarmy, know-it-all creep to those who aren't familiar with his sense of humor... Kid Math should not be left alone with him because he's very impressionable and Bruno is a terrible influence slkjdf.

Here's a little deleted scene I had:

I also had a loose draft for a scene of WordGirl and Super Why getting milkshakes with some other hero friends when Kid Math finds them again. WordGirl greets him like "Oh, how's your day going?" and Kid Math is just... very overwhelmed from his experience of interacting with two fast-paced sassy kids while he's still struggling to grasp the concept of superhero banter. Like. Bruno and Danny would destroy him. Blow his mind. There's no coming back from that.

So yeah, Bruno was definitely at the convention... I just didn't show him apart from that one-liner about him hanging out with Danny. "Flypaper" was really fun to write. I don't plan to do a crossover like this again any time soon, but the convention was a cool setting to explore and I'm glad you enjoyed! <3

One of my favorite stupid jokes in "Flypaper" is that Romeo was being a troublemaker in the daytime and WordGirl asked if he was "even allowed to do that" since he's supposed to be a "nighttime villain" in the PJ Masks lore... But tbh I watched a lot of Romeo clip compilations before this story and ?? apparently it's just a thing that Romeo regularly commits crime during the day and the PJ Masks literally hang back and wait until nightfall before they fight him?? That's SO funny to me.

(I also don't understand when the PJ Masks sleep and if anyone has the answer, please drop it in my inbox because I'd love to know but I also don't want to binge the series over this, ha ha)

I also wanted to make a joke about Alphapig being 5 years younger than the rest of the Super Readers because the amount I lost my mind when I saw that on the [unsourced] Super Why wiki was indescribable. POV: One of your friends is a princess, at least one is in college, and you're starting high school.

(I'm dying at the idea of three 10-year-olds running around Storybrook Village and there's a 5-year-old tagging along with them. The mental image of 7-year-old Whyatt taking a 3 or 4-year-old pig under his wing as his new friend... Such a good boy.)

After Tobey launched Romeo off his robot, I had WordGirl catch him, but I'd originally hoped to have Kick Buttowski catch him because I thought writing cool skateboard rescue mission would be fun. It seemed like it would just be shoving in an extra character who didn't need to be there, though, and it risked dragging down the scene with introductions and descriptions, but in my heart, Kick was at the convention too. Extreme.

I think another of my fave dumb jokes was just... WordGirl approaching the superhero panel she's supposed to speak on, she looks out into the crowd, but then she's like "Oh no the entire Paw Patrol are watching me, this is so much pressure."

Nothing to see here, just Baby Dog Squad taking notes... I still think about that randomly throughout the day and giggle. I love this 'fic.

#Danny Phantom #Bruno the Kid #WordGirl #Super Why #PJ Masks Romeo #Kid Math #Dead Boy Duo #Flypaper #I have seen the Paw Patrol movie twice with no show context and it's really good and I highly recommend tbh #It's a superhero movie but they get stuck in traffic / have breakdowns / get hurt by falling buildings it's so good #Opening scene is a guy disappointed to be saved by dogs and Chase is like 'You're in shock so I'm not gonna take that personally' #Not to be dramatic but Bruno/Leecy is literally my favorite OTP of all time... they love and support each other SO MUCH #Boy really waited two hours for her to arrive late to a concert and instead of complaining took her hand and bought her ice cream #He called and asked her to hack into secret gov't files and she was down without even knowing he's a spy... I love Leecy #I am so very normal about the series finale hooooooly cow #asks #Anon #ridwriting #Sassy kinderspy and co #Going ghost! #apparently art #Grammar queen #Arithmetic Lad #Main Phantom trio #Recommendation Wednesday #None of these is Wednesday #Read Mores are still glitchy if anyone was wondering :)

[duskoon]

Yandere!Cyrus (General) headcanons:

Tw: GN!reader, Yandere themes, Conditioning, Abuse, Manipulation, Implied murder, Kidnapping, Captivity, Criminal activities, Implied trauma, Obsessive behaviours, Unhealthy relationship, Stalking, Mentions of omnicide.

+ For the first time in his life, he did not know what to make of this situation and it terrified him to a great extent. Yet, it burned him with boiling anguish and confusion. You were just an ordinary scientist, who he accidentally happened by as he went to Veilstone headquarters. 

+ Both of you shared the same philosophy regarding the essence of the soul. How it serves as nothing more than a catalyst for strife and suffering. But, differed in the solution to the cause. He was cautious enough not to spill his plans, whilst debating with you. Truth to be told, Cyrus never had a freshing discussion as he was mostly consumed by his end goals to ever give a thought to it. 

+ “It is rather true that the spirit causes a plethora of suffering and may end up ravaging the earth in an attempt to satiate itself. But without the spirit, we won’t grow as individuals. And if we didn’t, are we considered truly alive?….. It is the most interesting debate I had in a while and I must thank you for that. I bid you a good farewell, Cyrus.” Your words befuddled him, yet it remained still in his mind.

+ Perhaps, this was merely a scientific curiosity. Nothing more or less. It began to become a bigger hurdle than what he initially thought, when it crossed his plans. You persisted on engulfing his mind and that vexed him. Was Mesprit the culprit in play? Was it well aware enough of his true intentions and decided to mock him by condemning him to the most ironic fate possible? If so, he will extinguish it after garnering the red chain alongside his newly found interest.

+ So, he decided to employ Sird to keep an eye on you and relay any information regarding you. After all, she is the only one who he can trust to accomplish this mission efficiently and without any complications. It has been more than six months, since he kept an attentive gaze on you. It was rather difficult to ooze any information out of you, owing to your reclusive and vigilant nature. 

+ Cyrus commends you for your skeptical and logical mindset, perhaps a collaboration is in need. For him to keep his steely eyes on you, while you have the apparatuses for your research in hand. Maybe, he could persuade you to join his cause. Once Sird delivers him the personal information he had previously requested, he felt an oddly painful tug in his icy heart as he continued reading it. 

+ An extremely familiar tug that he had never felt since his time at Sunyshore. Prior to leaving his old hometown, Cyrus had completely shut his heart out lest it might end up torn apart like it had once. To watch it happen to another, opened old gashes that he never wishes to see again. Now, he can clearly discern why he was so invested in them. He can see a resemblance of himself in them, yet it seemed they had paved a completely distinctive path than the one he is currently on. 

+ They have succeeded whereas he failed, that despite everything they remained perseverant. Perhaps, they were right about how the spirit completed oneself…. No, no. That can’t be, if that was the case then why does he feel so dissatisfied and bitter? And, why strife remains existent? Wouldn’t it be beneficial for the world to live without it? In his experience, it is better to be null than to be in a state of perpetual suffering.

+ Instead, his obsession kept on festering akin to a disease that hijacked his pallid body in its deadly grasp. What was once a burning desire to terminate, has shifted into a desire to help in any way possible. Cyrus felt disgustingly sick and his commanders took notice of it. If he couldn’t get rid of them or the thought of them, then he ought to bring them here and hold them accountable for this illness.

+ Cyrus is obsessive, overprotective, and deeply paranoid in regards to his darling. In spite of that, he remains one of the most lucid yanderes to come across. His obsession towards them stems from either shared trauma or lack of it.

+ In the case of shared trauma, he loathes them and their agony for it is a glaring reminder of his own imperfections. Whilst the latter, is owing to their ignorance and naïve perception of the world. A deep seated fear of his, is for them to be scared of him and/or reject him. 

+ At first, Cyrus treatment towards his darling is volatile. It switches between utter cold disregard, then to an indirect yearning of their attention and affection. To say the least, they are confused and scared as if their abrupt abduction by a notorious criminal wasn’t enough. Which ironically prompts the thing that he fears the most.

+ Cyrus is a calculated, intelligent, and an intuitive individual. He knows when his darling is scared and would immediately remedy the situation by indulging in their interests. Perhaps, even giving them a pokémon to keep them company while he is busy elsewhere. No matter how busy Cyrus is, he will always make time for them to attend to their needs.

+ Speaking of goals, Cyrus will definitely find a way to keep his darling with him as everything “incomplete” is replaced with his ideals. Once his initial panic fades away, he will bend the world to appease his darling. You want mountain of books to satiate your curiosity? With his resources as a team leader, he could secure libraries and “gift” it to them. The methodology does not concern him, as much as the result. So long, you are pleased then he too is pleased.

+ Cyrus will condition them to obey him. Good behaviours will be rewarded, whilst the bad ones are punished. He carries the rewards, whilst his grunts do the dirty work. Thus they will start associating him with goodness, whilst others -be it his own cohorts or otherwise- are foes to be avoided. Let it be known that if the grunts stepped out of line in the punishment, they will be dealt with and be replaced with others. They are all expendable in his eyes, apart from his darling.

+ Cyrus knows he is being selfish -for Arceus sake, he is a criminal in the eyes of others.- but can’t he just have this one good thing in his dreary life. He wants to worship his beloved in peace, going as far to deny them their freedom. It is a price they have to pay for captivating his soul, mind, and heart. He will never let them disentangle from the webs he weaved specifically for them and them only, even if he had to tear the fabrics of time and space.

#duskoon.speaks #yandere x reader #yandere pokemon x reader #yandere #yandere cyrus x reader #yandere cyrus #yandere pokemon #tw: yandere #tw: manipulation #tw: abuse #tw: conditioning #tw: implied murder #tw: kidnapping #tw: captivity #tw: criminal activites #tw: implied trauma #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: stalking #tw: mentions of omnicide

[videoblood]

The line outside the haunted house sponsored by the Murfreesboro Recreation Department has more adults in it than children. We move through a maze, then lurch through primordial ooze (represented in greenish crepe paper and Spanish moss), evading the "Swamp Monster," only to find ourselves in a hospital room that might have been inspired by a [...] medical thriller. A patient, hooked up to a network of tubes, needles, and straps, sits up abruptly, struggles against her life support, and collapses on the bed, repeating this performance for each group of visitors. Another door reveals an operating arena spattered with "blood" and strewn with organs and appendages and tools of the trade. A nurse with a sledge hammer pounds [...] on the operating table. The doctor waves a gory saw and roars, "Do you need a new heart?" Turning a corner, we are menaced by a maniac wielding a chain saw. The next stop is the funeral home, where we are greeted by a sobbing mourner and a wild-eyed undertaker who ushers us before the open casket, inhabited by a maniacally rising and falling corpse. Viewing the spectacle over our shoulders is the Grim Reaper, who points the way to the cemetery (signified by three headstones), populated by a swooping bat, a mummy, a Frankenstein monster, and several lurching Romeroesque "extras." In 1986, horror was the most popular of the mass media genres, and on Halloween of that year, a middle American college town, some thirty miles south of Nashville, articulated its concerns at the grass roots. On this night of the spirits, the supernatural was conspicuously absent, the ghost nowhere in evidence. The text here was not fear of death in any traditional sense but fear and loathing of life, existence perceived as terminal disease. The haunted house was the human body itself – threatened at every turn, covered with tubes, cannibalized for cells, fluids, tissues, and parts, tortured and reconstructed on the procrustean bed of biotechnology. Haunted houses are always mazes and pilgrimages. Ours went from womb to tomb and contained spaces representing equal states of abjection: the patient and the corpse were choreographed identically; the living were undead, the dead wouldn't or couldn't lie down; the grim reaper and the resurrectionist wielded the same instrument, a saw/scythe.

- Linda Badley, Film, Horror, and the Body Fantastic

#quotes #theory #linda badley #film horror and the body fantastic #horror

[play-now-my-lord]

"the name of the beast"

parasitic reaction in the hindbrain long-forgotten viruses, microglial cascades, cells singing with love for something that never lived. Hyperflat meets misfolded protein, self-replicating prions infest the cerebellum, the heart, the small and large intestine. Everything is a metaphor. Everything in the world is exactly the same. Diseases gentle and warm take us in tender embraces and usher us to a state of rest. The growing pains of globalization settle easy in the soft bones of children, hard in joints made firm by age

We can put it all behind us: I am thinking, and you are thinking with me, and it could be faster, we could be closer, If you'd only find a way to let your guard down, let the light in. Repentance, they say, is as good as medicine. Cheaper, besides. (febrile from the poison some hired goon sprayed into my brain, careless, like hot glue used to set a bone, maybe nothing but hot glue used to set a bone fractured by a burrsaw for the intromission of wires. Like a bedbug mating, spraying the stuff of life into a living creature with a needle and cauter so like a penis. We know human beings. Human beings love wires and they don't care who suffers or how, who dies or how. One creature's good as another

If I could do it all over again, if I could do it all over again, if I could do it all over again, darling, I'd never have let them take me alive) I am thinking, and the machine is thinking with me. The machine is thinking, and I am thinking with it. I am thinking, and the machine is thinking with me. I am thinking, and the machine is thinking with me

the children first, whose minds nature cast in some unlovable contour. The sick next, who we must learn to see as a burden to make peace. When we meet the men who remake us, it will be face to face, with eyes like ours, but cold and born to command;

it will be with one mind, one heart, one seat of thought and spirit. They will untangle the tongues God once confused into the straight and perfect english of the terminal, and our obedience to our masters' voices will be before thought. Faster, anyway, than prayer, with thoroughly documented behaviors and perfectly anticipated responses a safe environment in which we can be trusted, at last, and for all time

#frog writing #frog poetry

[nomadicpixelwrites]

It's okay to ask for help...

Some of you may have noticed that I started writing again after an extremely long hiatus.

I mentioned in a post (maybe more than one) that I was taking care of a family member who was terminal. It's hard for me to share details of this, because it's been an emotional roller for my family.

After a long and hard fought battle, including several months in hospice, they passed away.

Heart Disease, Cancer, NAFLD, and COPD, are all difficult battles to have individually, let alone at once. I watched as someone I loved and looked up to withered away, and held their hand as they passed. It was not beautiful, it was not a peaceful end. It was not painless. It was nothing that I had wished for them.

My heart is broken. It aches. And I'm getting tired of putting on a mask and acting like everything is okay.

I am not okay.

What I'm trying to work on, and what I encourage others to do is ask for help. I have a great group of people surrounding me, though my stubbornness often limits how much I open up to them. From the amazing @theycallmebecca (she knows all, including where the bodies are buried) to my other friends at @the-ce-horniest-book-club-horniest-book-club and @the-ss-horniest-book-club, and @the-th-horniest-book-club. @jewels2876, @marvelgirl7, @nano--raptor, @godofplumsandthunder and @jobean12-blog for sending me regular cute asks to keep up my spirits. You're all amazing.

Sometimes life is going to come at you with a steamroller - or twenty. Asking for help is quite literally what got me through the worst two years of my life. I hope that the start of a new month will also help me let go some of my struggles and pain. But if you're out there, and you are struggling, know that you're not alone.

#Personal #fuck #I'm crying again #Sorry everyone

[svogliata-mente]

alright list of hopes and desperations for tomorrow:

hopes:

I actually do know most of the stuff I'm just sick of it

I've been preparing for a month something has got to stick

since it's the first session after the holiday hopefully the prof might be in good humor and thus lenient

desperations:

i got terminal cannot for the love of god string a coherent sentence together in front of professors disease. and it's terminal

prof is quite strict

since it's the first session after the holiday the prof might be in terrible spirit and thus even stricter

#me medesima #ignore this #i just need an 18 i will accept it #what i don't want is dragging this further i have latin exams plural to prepare