#this is shaping up to be a transcendent idea

[comicaurora]

What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

#asks #not aurora

[talkdutchtome]

Dress - Mason Mount

pairing . . . mason mount x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . mason mount had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, so why now all of a sudden was sleeping with him all you could think about )

song . . . dress- taylor swift )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, some light choking, fingering, some oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, not proofread )

word count . . . 2900 words )

a/n . . .this is my first ever smut so i apologise if it's not great but after mason's new ad i just couldn't not)

 Our secret moments in a crowded room  They got no idea about me and you  There is an indentation in the shape of you  Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo   

Mason Mount was your best friend. You had known him since childhood; your mums were friends, so you had grown up together. For as long as you could remember he would be by your side, your other half- purely platonic of course. Or it used to be platonic anyway. Over the last few months something had changed between the two of you, you didn’t know why it had or when it happened, but it did. It started with stolen glances; you’d find yourself looking at him differently than you ever had before. As lifelong best friends, there were occasions when you’d see each other in underwear; before you wouldn’t have thought anything about it, but now, you couldn’t help but look. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from his muscular legs, from the way his underwear pulled tightly across his crotch. Maybe you would have felt bad about looking at him like that if you hadn’t noticed him glancing at your chest when you wore a particularly low-cut dress. 

 After that, things progressed to lingering touches, there would be times that the two of you would be walking down the street and Mason would hold his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you down the road. Sometimes at parties or clubs you would dance together, closer than any two friends should ever be, spurred on by Dutch courage. As the music throbbed through the floor and alcohol coursed through your veins, you and Mason moved together in a dance that transcended friendship. His hand found the small of your back, and the way he guided you through the crowded dance floor was different tonight, closer and more intimate than ever before. You could feel his warm breath against your ear as he whispered jokes and secrets amidst the music's relentless beat. Every step and sway seemed to bring you closer together until the only thing separating you were the clothes you were wearing. In that moment, with the electrifying chemistry between you two, you both began to realize that the line between friendship and something deeper was blurring, and with each synchronized movement, the unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. 

You truthfully didn’t know how to explain your relationship with Mason. You weren’t more than friends, but you weren’t just friends either. Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. You didn’t even know if you wanted to be more than friends with him, the pair of you were so similar to each other, too similar sometimes; you weren’t sure if you would be compatible together. All you knew was there was so much sexual tension between the two of you it was making it almost impossible to function 

All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation  My hands are shaking from holding back from you  Ha, ah, ah  All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting  My hands are shaking from all this  Ah, ha, ha, ha-ah   

With all that considered, when Mason messaged you letting you know that a few of the Chelsea lads were going to a party tomorrow night and that you should come along, you knew what you needed to do. This had gone on for too long, so much had been left unsaid and you were sick of it. Maybe you wouldn’t be compatible in a relationship, but you didn’t want a relationship, you just wanted him. So on the day of the party you went out and bought sluttiest, skimpiest dress you could find; then you spent longer then you ever usually would getting ready. To put it bluntly, you looked good as hell, and you were ready to go and get your man. However, this effort seemed to be for nothing when you walked into the party to find a girl sat on Mason’s lap, whispering in his ear and peppering kisses on his neck. You felt completely thrown, of course Mason could do what he wanted, but you thought that this game of cat and mouse you were playing would ultimately ended with the two of you admitting what you want and getting it, it being each other. But it seemed like that wasn’t to be it seemed. It hurt, you couldn’t deny that, but you simply told yourself to get over it and find somebody else to scratch that itch.  

You found that person in the shape of Kepa Arrizabalaga. You knew from Mason that he was a bit of a ladies man, the kind of person to prefer one-night stands to a real relationship; he was perfect. It started with a bit of light flirting, you batted your eyelashes, laughed at his semi-unfunny jokes whilst placing a hand on his rock hard bicep. It didn’t take long for things to move on, both of you were aware of what this was so there was no need to beat around the bush. Soon his lips were on yours and he was leading the way to a spare bedroom. It may not have been what you came into this party expecting, but you certainly weren’t going to complain. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mason was across the room watching this whole scene go down. To say he was jealous would be an understatement, he didn’t know it until the very moment he saw you all over his teammate, but you were his. You were his and watching Kepa lead you away to a bedroom made him sick. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there was something between the two of you but to put it plainly, he was nervous. He wanted you and you wanted him; but what if after you had each other your friendship couldn’t recover. He had been friends with you for as long as he could remember, you knew him more than he knew himself and didn’t want to do anything that would risk your friendship. So he pushed his feelings down, he deflected everything he felt for you to another girl and it was going fine. Abby was fine, she wasn’t you, but she was fine. That was until he saw Kepa undressing you with his eyes, saw you reciprocating all of his flirty advances; it was in that exact moment that Mason decided he was done being the bigger person and ignoring his need for you. He wanted you and he was going to have you.  

Mason was hot on your heels, following the pair of you into the room. However the few seconds delay meant that when he burst into the room, he was greeted by the picture of you straddling the Spaniard, your lips attached to his neck.  

“Sorry to interrupt, Y/N I need to speak to you.” Mason said, staring at the pair of you, burning a hole into your back.  

“No Mase I’m busy go away” You detached your lips from Kepa’s neck to tell Mason to fuck off before promptly reconnecting them again.  

“Kepa mate fuck off I need to speak to Y/N” Mason said again, clearly not ready to give up. You sighed heavily and got ready to curse Mason out, telling him to leave you alone but were interrupted by Kepa. 

“Yeah, I think I should go” you heard the man underneath you say, prompting you to get up and let him leave. 

“What the fuck was that about Mason, I was clearly doing something?” You asked, really confused by your best friends outburst. He made it clear that he didn’t want anything from you so why should he be bothered if you go and get it from somebody else. 

“Kepa, Y/N? Why Kepa?” You got up from the bed and stood in front of him 

“Why not Kepa? I needed something and he was willing to provide. Who would you rather I chose?” You said, walking closer to him until you were only inches apart. 

“Me Y/N. I would have rather you chose me.” His words made time freeze. You could feel your own heartbeat race and you could hear his do the same. This was it, all of the build up from the last few months were coming to a head right here. You watched as his eyes scanned your body from top to bottom, taking in every inch of you, looking at you like he would never see you again. And then, after a pause that felt both like a million years but also milliseconds, his lips crashed onto yours. Your hands came to his hair instantly, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. At the sensation of you lightly pulling at his hair, Mason groaned into your mouth, making your pussy clench around nothing, desperate for him.  “Jump” he said, pulling his lips away from yours before planting them on your neck. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands coming up to your ass immediately, giving it a rough squeeze.  

Say my name and everything just stops  I don't want you like a best friend  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  Take it off, ha, ha, ha-ah  Carve your name into my bedpost  ’Cause I don't want you like a best friend  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  Take it off, ha, ha, ha-ah 

He throws you on the bed carelessly, like he doesn’t have time for niceties, like if he took even a second longer than was absolutely necessary, he would blink and you would be gone. You watch as he takes of his shirt and then his trousers, leaving him stood there in his underwear. The way his hard cock strained in his underwear made you gulp; he was huge, you could tell that without even needing to see it.  

“Let’s get this dress off pretty girl” he said, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it before. He pulled you up so you were standing facing away from him. His hands go to your zip immediately. 

“You looked so beautiful today. This dress looks so good on you” He whispers in your ears, gently nibbling on your earlobe in-between each word. The words send shivers down your spine, causing you to let out a soft, barely audible moan. His rough hands pull down the zip of your dress causing it to fall to the floor. You could practically hear Mason’s jaw hit the ground when he noticed you weren’t wearing a bra. He spins you around immediately, his mouth going to one nipple, his hand to another. The sucking, nibbling and pinching made you feel like you were going crazy. It felt so good but you needed more, you needed him.  

“Please Mase” you said breathlessly, reaching out to palm his hard dick through his boxers. “I need you” He laughs at your neediness. 

“You need me do you? Why don’t you show me how much you need me” he said finally detaching his mouth from your breast before very gently pushing you down to your knees. Seeing the light and excitement in your eyes when you caught on to what he meant made Mason curse himself for waiting so long to do this. He swore he could see stars when you started placing small barely there kisses on his cock over his underwear. Then he swore he was going to pass out when you reached into his underwear, pulling his cock out and immediately licking a long stripe from the base to the tip before placing his whole manhood in your mouth. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat was a feeling Mason knew he would never be able to forget. Things got even better for Mason when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck baby you’re so good at this” Mason croaked out and his praise spurred you on, taking him even deeper into your mouth making him let out a guttural moan. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, desperate for him to touch you, desperate for him to fuck you. As if he could read your mind, Mason abruptly pulled himself out of your mouth, causing you to look up at him confused. The sight of you was a sight that Mason wanted to see every day until the day he died. On your knees, your lips swollen, and your lipstick smudged, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging to be fucked. 

“Lay on the bed Babygirl, I’m going to make you feel so good” he said, and you did as he asked immediately. You truly thought tonight couldn’t get any better, you were proved wrong however when he clambered onto the bed and settled his head in-between your legs and started leaving hot, open kisses on your thighs and over your soaking underwear.  

“I need you so bad Masey, fuck me please” you pleaded to him, garnering a laugh from the man in-between your thighs. 

“Be patient Y/N, I’ll fuck you in a minute, but I want to taste you first” That was it, that settled it; you had died and gone to heaven. Unable to contain himself, he ripped the thong off your body and marveled at how wet your pussy was. You wanted to curse him out for ruining your favorite pair of underwear but when his mouth made contact with your clit, you couldn’t think or see straight. The feeling on his tongue licking strips up your pussy, lapping up all of the wetness before attaching itself to your clit, was a feeling that made you forget your own name. It didn’t take long before you could feel the need to cum building up, the tension in your stomach being almost too much to bear.  

“Oh, fuck Masey I’m going to cum” you just about managed to get the words out in-between moans that sent shockwaves to Masons throbbing cock.  

“Cum baby. Cum and I’ll fuck your brains out” His words were accompanied by his tongue dipping into your pussy and his thumb coming up to rub circles on your overstimulated clit. It took seconds after that for you to reach your peak, letting out moans that could rival a pornstars.  

“Let me ride you” you asked Mason once you had ridden out your orgasm. Mason said nothing, he simply picked you up and flipped you, so you were on top of him, your legs on either side of him.  

“Fuck Y/N I don’t have a condom” Mason said, looking like he wanted to die, he needed you so badly, he really didn’t think he could walk away now without knowing what it feels like to be buried deep inside of you.  

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean” you told him and watched his eyes pop out of his head, clearly not able to believe his luck. 

“So- So am I” he stuttered out before crashing his lips onto yours. You reached for his cock, lining it up with your pussy. Mason hissed at the feeling of you slowly lowering yourself onto him and you felt tears fill the brim of your eyes, the burn of being stretched out being almost too much to handle. 

“You’re so big Masey, you fill me up so well” you said as the pain started to subside, being replaced with pleasure. After giving yourself some time to get used to his size, you started bouncing on top of him, moans spilling out of your mouth almost constantly, your hands resting on his chest, digging your nails into his skin.  

“My god you feel like heaven baby girl” Mason said through gritted teeth, one hand coming to massage your ass the other reaching up to your neck, not yet applying pressure but even the slight sensation had you moving faster on his dick, even more moans falling from your lips.  

“I’m not going to last long baby; I’ve dreamt of this for so long” Mason said breathlessly, moving his hand from your neck to your clit, before he started thrusting into you, taking control. 

“Cum on my dick and then let me fill you up. I’ll bet you look so pretty filled up with my cum” his words, the speed of which he was fucking you and his expert fingers got you to your point of release very quickly. You came harder this time, your pussy clenching around Mason’s dick like you were made for each other. He let you ride out your orgasm before flipping you around, so your back was on the bed, and started thrusting into you rough and fast. The scene of you on your back for him, tits bouncing up and down as he fucked you drove him crazy. His thrusts quickly became sloppy, a tell tell sign he was close, he brought his mouth down to yours, kissing you like a man starved as he reached his climax. You could feel his dick twitch in your over-stimulated pussy as he released himself inside you, his cum coating your walls. Exhausted, he collapsed onto you, his forehead pressed right against yours.  

“Why the fuck did we wait so long to do that?” 

There is an indentation in the shape of you  Only bought this dress so you could take it off  You made your mark on me, golden tattoo  Only bought this dress so you could take it off 

#mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #footballer x y/n #mason mount x y/n #footballer smut #footballer x reader

[txttletale]

Can you give your thoughts on the general character art design of Hades? It's always seemed kind of off to me and you seem to have good enough media opinions to put the reason why into words

i mean, first of all, i think that they suffer just from being The Greek Gods and therefore just having the most barebones basic designs that those archetypal characters get in pop culture. like look at zeus:

like. this is Zeus. there are some interesting flairs here with the lightning crown and cloud beard but like. It's Zeus. the visual language here is not communicating anything more interesting or unique or vivid than It's Zeus. contrast, like, rukey from pyre:

look at how much fucking personality is conveyed by this little freak. the fucking moustache! the fancy little cloak but the messy dog hair. the playful expression, the gold tooth, the glint of cunning in the eye, the raised little paw. you look, at this guy and get an immediate idea of what and who he is.

i also hate how 1. shrinkwrapped and 2. fucking grey and ashy every single character in hades is. like look at zeus's muscles up there this man is fucking dehydrated and like. why does athena look like this

she is grey. she is so fucking grey. this is a vampire. this is a woman made of ash.

furthermore i find what they did with the greek gods wrt to making them a few different races to be a cowardly half-measure. like--the idea they forwarded in interviews that greek gods are 'global' and should represent the whole world are, quite frankly, just bullshit! i dislike this universalization of a mythology that is very very very tied to a particular culture and time and place because it is just another shape of the attempted universalization of the 'Western Canon', the removal of these things from historical place and context to make them abstract ideals that can be imposed upon the whole world because they 'transcend culture' while really they have just been incorporated into a dominant culture.

but, like, most frustratingly--there is a like huge wealth of cultural variety to be found in greco-roman myth. versions of these gods were worshipped in north africa and egypt and west asia and even as far as india. but, like, the commitment to multiethnicisim is purely surface-level, so they don't employ any of the iconography or look into these non-european syncretic depictions of these deities. they just take all their design cues from the tired pop-culture versions of purely greek aesthetics. imagine how fucking interesting the character designs for hades could have been if instead of making dionysus a person of colour and calling it a day, they represented a specifically indo-greek dionysus!

first after the conquests of alexander and once again after the expansion of the roman empire, these sorts of syncretic beliefs flourished throughout the mediterranean. if you really want to write a greek mythology story without a cast of white guys then give me Zeus-Ammon, god dammit!

anyway yeah the fact that all of hades' characters look like they're severely hydrated and their roof just caved in on them is weird and bad and other than that they're for the most part just deeply generic Greek Gods with what feels like very little care or innovation or personality put into their designs compared to characters from transistor or pyre. shomar shasberg and manly tindenstauf each have more unique visual personality than every hades character combined

#ask

[horeformilfs]

I have an ask for you. So this can either be with Alcina, Donna, or any of the Dimitrescu daughters.

All I really want is like reader going absolutely ape-shit on some kind of foe. For whatever reason you want. Whether it be Eathan or just some random person trying to hurt her lover. The circumstance is completely up to you.

Oh, and if reader could have some kind of power, plant manipulation, shape-shifting, whatever, that would be loved.

Aaaanyway, thank you very much for even reading this. If you don't like it, just ignore me. No harm done. Have a fabulous day/night, and stay safe!

💐💐

I love this idea and made it kinda angsty

I'll Protect You...Because I Love You

Dimitrescu Family x Fem!Reader

TW: Arguing, Drinking, Fighting, Stabbing Blood, Fainting, Ethan Winters being a dick, Death

--------------------------------------------

In the dimly lit corridors of Castle Dimitrescu, Y/N moved with practiced ease, her footsteps echoing against the ancient stone walls. She had become accustomed to the labyrinthine layout of the castle during her time as Lady Alcina Dimitrescu's maid, navigating its sprawling halls with a sense of familiarity that bordered on intimacy.

But Y/N's relationship with Alcina transcended the boundaries of employer and servant. Over the course of eight months, their connection had blossomed into something far deeper—a love that defied the constraints of their disparate stations. Alcina's formidable presence had initially intimidated Y/N, but beneath her regal facade lay a woman of unparalleled complexity, whose icy exterior belied a warmth that Y/N found impossible to resist.

Despite the differences in their status, Y/N and Alcina had forged a bond built on mutual respect and unwavering devotion. In the quiet moments between their duties, they stole fleeting glances and exchanged whispered confessions, their love growing with each passing day.

And it wasn't just Alcina who had captured Y/N's heart; her affection extended to Alcina's three daughters—Daniela, Cassandra, and Bela. Initially wary of their mother's new paramour, the sisters had gradually warmed to Y/N's presence, finding in her a kindred spirit who shared their love for the sprawling grounds of Castle Dimitrescu.

Y/N's connection to the Dimitrescu family ran deeper still, for she harbored a secret that she had kept hidden from Alcina and her daughters—a power as ancient as the castle itself. Y/N possessed the ability of chlorokinesis, the power to manipulate and control plant life with but a thought. It was a gift she had inherited from her ancestors, one that she had honed in secret, fearful of the repercussions should her abilities be discovered.

But despite the challenges they faced, Y/N's love for Alcina remained steadfast, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them. And as the sun dipped below the horizon and the castle came to life with the flickering of candlelight, Y/N knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, she would face them with unwavering courage, guided by the love that bound her to Alcina and her daughters.

As Y/N approached the door to their shared bedroom, she could sense the tension radiating from within. The air crackled with an uneasy energy, sending a shiver down her spine. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit chamber.

Alcina sat at her vanity, her usually regal posture slumped with frustration. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of her beloved in such turmoil, her concern outweighing any fear that lingered in the air.

"What's wrong, Alcina?" Y/N ventured softly, her voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the room.

Alcina's response was immediate, her words tumbling forth in a torrent of anger and resentment. "That blasted Miranda! She thinks she can dictate every aspect of our lives, as if we're mere pawns in her game!"

Y/N listened in silence as Alcina ranted, her heart breaking with each word that fell from her lips. But before she could offer solace, Alcina's frustration reached a boiling point, her hands clenching into fists as she unleashed her fury upon the unsuspecting vanity.

The sound of splintering wood echoed through the room, mingling with Alcina's ragged breaths. Y/N moved closer, her instincts urging her to comfort her lover in her time of need.

"Alcina, please," Y/N pleaded, reaching out a trembling hand in a futile attempt to soothe her. "Let me help you."

But Alcina's response was sharp, her eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a chill down Y/N's spine. "Stay back, Y/N! This is none of your concern!"

Y/N recoiled at the venom in Alcina's voice, her heart pounding in her chest as she took a cautious step backwards. The sight of Alcina unsheathing her claws sent a wave of fear coursing through her, the primal instinct to flee warring with her desire to stand by her lover's side.

With a heavy heart, Y/N made her decision, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. "I'll leave you alone, Alcina. I... I need some air."

And with that, Y/N turned on her heel and fled the room, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridors as she made her way downstairs, the weight of Alcina's anger heavy upon her shoulders.

As Y/N entered the dining room, her steps heavy with the weight of her emotions, she failed to notice the three figures huddled together at the far end of the room. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela exchanged concerned glances as they watched Y/N's distant demeanor, their hearts aching at the sight of her pain.

With a shared understanding born of years spent in each other's company, the sisters moved as one, their footsteps silent against the polished floors as they approached their beloved Mămica. Y/N's shoulders sagged with the weight of her burdens, her trembling hands reaching for the crystal decanter of whiskey that stood sentinel upon the table.

The clink of glass echoed through the room as Y/N poured herself a generous measure, her movements mechanical as she downed it in one swift motion. The sisters exchanged worried glances, their concern deepening as they watched a solitary tear slip down Y/N's cheek.

Bela, the eldest of the sisters, stepped forward first, her voice gentle as she addressed Y/N. "Mămica, are you okay?"

Y/N startled at the sound of Bela's voice, her eyes widening in surprise as she met the concerned gazes of the Dimitrescu sisters. She attempted to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered at the edges, her facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions.

"I... I'm fine," Y/N replied, her voice betraying the turmoil raging within her.

But Daniela wasn't convinced, her keen intuition sensing the truth behind Y/N's facade. "Did you and Mamă have a fight?"

Y/N hesitated, her gaze flickering between the three sisters as she struggled to find the words. "Yes, but it's nothing for you to worry about."

Cassandra reached out a hand, her touch gentle as she brushed a stray tear from Y/N's cheek. "You don't have to pretend. We're here for you."

Y/N felt a sense of comfort envelop her as she sank into the plush cushions of the living room couch, Daniela nestled in her lap like a protective shield against the storm raging within her. The warmth of the fire cast flickering shadows across the room, a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil churning in Y/N's mind.

Daniela, ever the embodiment of affection, wrapped her arms around Y/N, seeking solace in the embrace of the woman she regarded as her other mother. Y/N returned the gesture, her touch gentle as she ran her fingers through Daniela's hair, the rhythmic motion a balm to her frayed nerves.

With a deep breath, Daniela ventured to broach the subject that hung heavy in the air. "Mămica, what happened? Why are you so upset?"

Y/N hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of her confession. "It's... it's nothing, darling. Just a disagreement with Mamă."

But Bela, ever perceptive, sensed the gravity of the situation, her gaze piercing as she pressed for answers. "But why did you leave? You always stay with Mamă when she's upset."

Y/N's resolve wavered at Bela's question, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. "Because... because Mamă got so angry... her claws came out."

The revelation hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the depths of Alcina's fury. The sisters exchanged shocked glances, their concern for Y/N mingling with a sense of unease at the thought of their mother unleashing her wrath upon the woman they held dear.

"That's... that's never happened before," Cassandra murmured, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Y/N nodded, her own disbelief mirroring that of the Dimitrescu sisters. "I know. That's why... that's why I had to leave."

And as the flames danced in the hearth and the night stretched on before them, Y/N knew that no matter the challenges they faced, they would navigate them together, bound by the unbreakable bonds of love and family.

As the warmth of the fire bathed the living room in a soft glow, Y/N found solace in the embrace of the Dimitrescu sisters, their presence a comforting reminder of the love that bound them together. Cassandra and Bela nestled into Y/N's side, their forms molded against hers as they sought refuge from the storm brewing outside. Meanwhile, Daniela remained perched in Y/N's lap, her attention focused on the book in her hands as she read aloud in a soothing cadence.

But their tranquil moment was shattered by the arrival of Alcina, her footsteps heavy with the weight of her frustration. She swept into the room, her icy gaze fixing on the group gathered before her.

"Why aren't you all in the dining room? Dinner should have been ready by now," Alcina demanded, her tone sharp with irritation.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably under Alcina's gaze, her protective instinct kicking in as she sought to shield the girls from their mother's anger. "We were just spending some time together, Alcina. We'll be there shortly."

Alcina's response was a dismissive roll of her eyes, her frustration palpable as she turned on her heel and made her way to the dining room.

As they sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was thick with tension, the strained silence punctuated only by the clinking of silverware against porcelain. Alcina's mood cast a pall over the table, her brooding silence a stark contrast to the usual lively chatter that filled the air.

The daughters exchanged uneasy glances, their resentment simmering beneath the surface as they grappled with their mother's recent outburst. Y/N's heart ached at the palpable discord, her own frustration mingling with a sense of helplessness in the face of Alcina's wrath.

But amidst the awkwardness and resentment, Y/N found solace in the unwavering support of the Dimitrescu sisters, their presence a reminder that no matter the challenges they faced, they would weather them together, bound by the unbreakable bonds of love and family.

As Y/N raced downstairs, her heart pounded in her chest with each step, adrenaline coursing through her veins at the revelation of Ethan Winters' presence in the castle. She found Alcina in the main hall, her imposing figure a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around them.

"Alcina, what's happening?" Y/N's voice trembled with urgency as she approached her lover.

Alcina's gaze flickered with a mix of fury and determination as she turned to face Y/N. "Ethan Winters has escaped Heisenberg and infiltrated the castle. But don't worry, I'll deal with him."

Y/N's mind raced with a myriad of emotions, fear and concern warring within her as she processed Alcina's words. "What about the girls, Alcina? Are they safe?"

For a moment, Alcina remained silent, her expression unreadable as she locked eyes with Y/N. In that brief exchange, Y/N sensed the truth—the girls were still in the library, unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows.

Without waiting for a response, Y/N broke into a sprint, her feet pounding against the cold stone floors as she raced towards the library. Alcina followed close behind, her presence a reassuring presence in the face of uncertainty.

As Y/N rushed towards the library, her heart pounding with fear and urgency, she flung open the doors, relief flooding her as she laid eyes on the girls, safe and sound within the comforting embrace of books.

"Mămica, Mamă, what's going on?" Daniela's voice cut through the tension, her brow furrowed with confusion.

Before Y/N could respond, a deafening gunshot shattered the tranquility of the room, the sound reverberating off the walls as time seemed to slow to a crawl. Instinctively, Y/N moved to shield Bela, her body tensing in anticipation of impact.

But she was too late.

The bullet struck true, searing pain tearing through Y/N's abdomen as she staggered backward, the force of the impact sending her crashing to the ground. Shock and disbelief painted the faces of Alcina and the girls as they watched in horror, their cries of alarm echoing in the chaos that ensued.

Ethan Winters emerged from the shadows, his presence a menacing reminder of the danger that lurked within the castle walls. Y/N fought through the pain, her voice strained as she addressed him.

"Why are you here, Ethan?" she pleaded, desperation coloring her words.

But Ethan remained silent, his gaze cold and unyielding as he turned his attention to the Dimitrescu sisters and Alcina. Panic surged within Y/N as she watched him advance, her instincts screaming at her to protect her family at all costs.

With a fierce resolve, Y/N pushed herself to her feet, her body protesting with each movement as she positioned herself between Ethan and the ones she loved. "Stay back!" she warned, her voice trembling with a mixture of pain and determination.

But Ethan showed no signs of relenting, his gaze locked on his targets with a chilling intensity. With a resigned sigh, Y/N braced herself for the inevitable confrontation, her mind racing with thoughts of how to keep her family safe in the face of overwhelming odds.

As Y/N summoned the vines with her chlorokinesis, her focus shifted solely to protecting Alcina and the girls from the imminent threat of Ethan Winters. The tendrils of greenery twisted and coiled around Ethan, ensnaring him in a tight grip as she launched herself into the fray.

The girls and Alcina watched in stunned silence as Y/N unleashed her power, their eyes wide with astonishment at the revelation of her hidden abilities. The air crackled with energy as Y/N and Ethan clashed, each blow resonating with the weight of their opposing desires.

But despite Y/N's valiant efforts, Ethan proved to be a formidable opponent, his desperation driving him to strike out with renewed ferocity. As he delivered a final, devastating blow, piercing Y/N's abdomen with a merciless stab, a cry of anguish tore through the air.

With the last of her strength, Y/N summoned forth a vine, twisting it around Ethan's neck in a desperate bid for survival. With a sickening snap, his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the threat he posed extinguished in an instant.

Exhausted and wounded, Y/N collapsed to the ground, her body trembling with the effort of her exertions. Alcina and the girls rushed to her side, their expressions a mix of concern and disbelief as they surveyed the scene before them.

"Daniela, keep her awake!" Alcina's voice rang out, laced with urgency as she knelt beside Y/N, her hands trembling as she sought to staunch the flow of blood from her wounds.

The youngest Dimitrescu sister nodded frantically, her hands gentle as she cradled Y/N's head in her lap, her voice trembling with emotion. "Stay with us, Mămica. Please, don't leave us."

Y/N's vision blurred as she struggled to remain conscious, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she met Alcina's gaze with unyielding determination. "I'll protect you because... because I love you," she whispered, her voice barely a whisper before darkness claimed her, her body succumbing to the darkness that threatened to consume her.

With tender care, Alcina lifted Y/N into her arms, cradling her gently as she carried her to their room, the girls trailing behind in solemn silence. The journey felt endless, each step a testament to the weight of their collective worries as they navigated the labyrinthine corridors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Upon reaching their sanctuary, Alcina laid Y/N upon the bed with infinite gentleness, her touch reverent as she began to tend to her injuries. With practiced precision, she cleaned and dressed Y/N's wounds, her movements deliberate as she worked to ease her lover's pain.

The girls watched with a mixture of awe and concern, their hearts heavy with the realization of Y/N's sacrifice. As Alcina finished her ministrations, they crawled into bed beside Y/N, seeking solace in the warmth of her embrace.

Bela nestled close to Y/N's side, her touch light as a feather as she draped an arm over her, while Cassandra snuggled against her other side, her breaths soft and steady against Y/N's skin. Daniela settled in the crook of Y/N's arm, her presence a soothing balm against the ache of her injuries.

Alcina took a seat in a large chair nearby, her eyes never leaving Y/N's form as she held vigil over her beloved. With a book in hand, she settled in for the long night ahead, the pages offering little distraction from the weight of her worries.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Y/N stirred from her slumber, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of the Dimitrescu sisters gathered around her bedside, their faces radiant with relief and joy.

"Mămica, you're awake!" Daniela exclaimed, her voice filled with unrestrained delight as she threw her arms around Y/N, her embrace warm and comforting.

Bela and Cassandra echoed their sister's sentiments, their smiles bright as they showered Y/N with affectionate hugs and whispered words of gratitude.

Alcina watched from the foot of the bed, her heart swelling with love and relief at the sight of Y/N awake and alert once more. With a soft smile, she approached Y/N, her gaze tender as she spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Alcina began, her voice laced with sincerity. "For what happened last night, and for the hurtful words I spoke. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make amends and to work on controlling my temper."

Y/N's heart swelled with gratitude at Alcina's apology, her own forgiveness offered freely as she reached out to take her lover's hand in hers. "Thank you, Alcina. I know we'll get through this together."

With the tension of the previous night lifted, the day unfolded with a sense of newfound peace and harmony. The Dimitrescu family spent the hours together, basking in the warmth of each other's company, the laughter of the girls filling the air with joy.

As they shared meals and shared stories, the bond between them grew stronger, their love for one another shining brightly amidst the shadows of their shared past. And as the day drew to a close, Y/N found solace in the embrace of her family, grateful for the second chance they had been given to cherish the moments they shared together.

#resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu imagine #alcina x female reader #alcina imagine #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu imagine #resident evil bela #bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu imagine #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil daniela #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu imagine #resident evil cassandra #cassandra dimitrescu imagine #cassandra dimitrescu x reader

[the-rollerchloster]

Parasocial relationships are strange. Parasocial relationships in a fandom like this one can be even stranger.

I want to preface this by saying that everyone is entitled to their feelings, and feelings are sometimes completely irrational. I am also aware that sometimes our feelings are driven by incomplete thoughts, and have a tendency to overwhelm us and those around us before we can process them. In saying that, I have seen a lot of conflicting emotions and reactions to the reveal that Misha Collins has a "serious" girlfriend (and a large cock apparently, but that is a whole other thing), and I know I shouldn't be surprised by it, but part of me is.

There was a conversation in my discord server over the complicated feelings people have about this news. As a cockles-friendly space this was to be expected, as any new development in the lives of either half of JenMish often spurs these kinds of conversations, but as it started to get emotional I was thanked for bringing some perspective. I hope that I can help anyone who also needs a different way of viewing this situation by making this post, while also helping myself to organise my own chaotic and complicated thoughts.

As I understand it, during the It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time event at this weekend's Burbank convention, Misha told a fun anecdote about gift-giving with his new girlfriend and her daughter, wherein Misha got some things delivered to said girlfriend directly from Amazon, and girlfriend wrapped them for the daughter including what she thought was a microphone but was actually another similarly shaped item not intended for children at all. He continued to say that this "microphone" was for his girlfriend so she wouldn't need to go searching elsewhere for intimacy, as they are currently living in separate states. Now, I was not at the event, and the lack of recordings (recording was strictly prohibited, so if you've got one shame on you, I don't want to know about it!) means that everything I will ever know about this story and the way it was told to the small audience who were lucky enough to be able to attend this event comes as a form of the Telephone game, and therefore lacks a whole lot of body language, tone and context. We, as a fandom, have been severely burnt by this kind of missing nuance before - think DenverCon'21 - and it's these kinds of kneejerk reactions that have the potential to spiral out of control and limit the things we get told at future events - think bishagate.

Think for a second about your personal perception of Misha Collins. He's chaotic, he can be a little self-deprecating or self-effacing, he likes to turn serious anecdotes into jokes. He is also a passionate and caring man, who has a lot of respect and appreciation for his fans. Think about the way he tells anecdotes at standard con panels - it's often a bit tongue-in-cheek, a bit sarcastic, a bit exaggerated - so why would his behaviour at this event, which was specifically set up for Misha to tell stories he wouldn't normally have the space to do in a convention setting, be any different?

I am going to go through my thoughts on some of the things I have seen mentioned about what this all means…

First off, the elephant in the room, what does this mean for Cockles? To me, absolutely nothing. Whatever Jensen and Misha have going on completely transcends a standard sexual and/or romantic relationship. Misha was in his relationship with Vicki for the majority of his life, including when he met Jensen, and we all know she literally wrote a book on polyamory; his perception of relationships is literally shaped and moulded by this, and it's not something he's going to just switch off. Danneel has been a permanent fixture in the cockles dynamic this entire time as well. The JenMish panel at Burbank this weekend will hopefully alleviate any of the doubt anyone is having here, and give us some knowledge that regardless of how Misha defines his relationship status, things will continue in the same chaotic, loving and ridiculous nature we've become accustomed to.

Which segues nicely into the implication that the vibrator was purchased so she wouldn't stray, and therefore their relationship is monogamous. See above thoughts about tongue-in-cheek, exaggerated and self-effacing - when I imagine him telling this story, I see that cheeky, gummy grin going the whole time. Without the nuance of watching this unfold, I think we are all safest to assume that this was a joke, not a firm declaration that he has left his polyamorous attitudes behind.

On thoughts of him "moving on too soon" from his marriage and subsequent divorce, this is where my own feelings get complicated as well, but also where we need to remember that the key feature of a parasocial relationship is that we only see and know what he wants us to. We don't actually know what the trigger for that dissolution was, so in terms of the actual calendar timing it might seem soon, but emotional development and change doesn't run on a standard calendar. We don't know how long the process was before the decision was made to separate. I am currently working through a messy separation, and while I can pinpoint the decision to somewhere in the past 6-12 months, my marriage has realistically been dead for 3+ years, and we're a (supposedly) monogamous couple. As a poly couple, I can imagine that Misha and Vicki worked through every alternative option possible before landing on the decision to formally separate, and had probably well and truly been through the mourning period before it was even all over. Adult relationships are complex at the best of times, and no one ever truly knows what is happening in them except the people involved. I also think that as a man who is nearing 50 and just come out of very long term relationship, that he doesn't actually know how to be "alone", nor does he want to…

Lastly, for some of us, this is someone important in our lives who has found happiness in another person when perhaps we don't have that for ourselves. When those feelings hit, they can be extremely disheartening, and I want to send all my loving thoughts to anyone who falls into this category. It's difficult when the envy turns your stomach in knots and then your thoughts spiral into all the things wrong that mean that no matter how much you want to you can't just be happy for someone. Love and life are complicated, human beings are complicated, society is complicated. There is this hugely widespread and toxic mentality that we are all raised on that says we are halves of something that is destined to find our other half in order to feel whole, and it's utter bullshit. We shouldn't need one singular significant other to feel complete, and sometimes we get so determined to find that someone that we end up sacrificing ourselves to make them fit. (see also; Daniel Sloss' thoughts on this subject in his stand-up special Jigsaw)

There are many different kinds of love, many different kinds of relationships, and many different kinds of people. If anyone proves that to us, it's Misha Collins. He is walking evidence that human life is chaotic and unpredictable and indeterminate and we can make our own fucking rules. I hope that we can collectively be respectful of him, no matter what (or who) he chooses, and feel grateful for everything he trusts us enough to share.

#thoughts #this is probably a mess #i don't really know if i have a point #but i needed to collect it somewhere #misha collins #burcon 24 #it seemed like a good idea at the time #cockles #misha's gf #misha if you're lurking in your tag go away 😅 #long post

[evilsoup]

"there is of course a sensible version of [the 'culturally christian'] discourse which has something useful in it" I'm curious as to what you think that is since I've only evee seen the stupid version lol

The basic idea that people from a christian background are likely to have some unexamined assumptions, including some pretty subtle stuff, is obviously correct imo.

Assuming someone cares about christmas as something people would feel it's important to mark, or assuming that all religions have something like a pope or formal heirarchy of priests and bishops, or assuming that repentance and forgivenes are central moral precepts for everyone, or even having a christian-god-shaped-hole in their belief system that gets filled in with nature or History or whatever. That sort of thing.

The problems with the stupid version of this are the same kinds of problem as the stupid versions of patriarchy, the idea of white supremacy, the more vulgar kinds of marxist class theory, etc: the elevation of a framework that is useful in some contexts into a transcendent statement which sits behind everything, outside of time, and is always true in all contexts; an opportunistic flip-flopping between structural and individual levels of abstraction; and a dogmatic sealing-off of the belief system rather than a genuine attempt to bring it into critical (& self-critical) dialogue with other ideas and indeed with new observations about reality.

So e.g. the idea that Christmas being a public holiday in western countries (structural cultural christianity) and the idea that you personally are definitely arguing some position because you have some unexamined bias (individual cultural christianity) get muddled together so that argument becomes impossible -- any attempt to push back on the latter leads to accusations that one is denying the former.

The idea that someone from a christian background or culture could have actually examined whatever bias they received from their upbringing, or that they may never have been really exposed to x specific bias, or that someone from another background could independently come up with an argument that "seems" culturally christian, or that the position which seems culturally christian may actually be more widespread than christian/christian-influenced cultures -- all of these are ruled out by the stupid, dogmatic, circular, sterile, sealed-off monologic version of cultural christianity.

I think that allowing all this to cause one to totally abandon the concept would be a vulgar negation of the stupid version of cultural christianity and would just make one stupid in the opposite direction; and since something like a christian/post-christian hegemony is in fact quite observably real in the west, the direction it makes you stupid in is a christian/post-christian chauvanist one -- just as vulgarly negating the stupid versions of patriarchy theory, white supremacy theory, marxism, etc will put you in bad company. You need to get inside these flawed attempts at grappling with reality to unpick where they're wrong, enter into honest dialogue, transform them and yourself be transformed, basically intergrate what is useful about them and understand how what is not useful about them comes into being. imo.

[gabessquishytum]

Consider, monsterfucker!Dream (from the Endless viewpoint)

The Endless do not truly have form at all. The first shapes they took were small and simple, like the earliest lifeforms. Over the eons, they've all experimented with many shapes, and physical pleasure and pain, but they are not beings of flesh. And they are simple. At their core, they are one aspect of existence. Dream even says they are mortals' toys and meant to be manipulated by them.

They've all fallen in love at least once. Dream, though, Dream keeps doing it. His siblings are baffled. He has a weird fondness for bipeds (there are so many beautiful creatures with radial symmetry!). One day he shows up moaning he was prepared to make a mortal his queen for all eternity; another day he shows up with a baby! He's cooing over the squirming thing while the Endless are gaping. "You gave yourself DNA?" Most of the time, they don't bother with all the internal organs or fluids, and Dream's giving himself a fully functioning reproductive system. He loves mortals, he wants a life with a mortal, he wants to engage in all aspects of physical intimacy with a mortal, he's sad when mortals--which are meant to form relationships with other mortals, creatures that can understand them, not anthropomorphic personifications, Dream!--leave him.

Dream shows up with Hob, and the other Endless just glare at Death, who insists she had no idea this would happen, when has Dream ever needed more than 5 minutes to fall in love? Besides, he usually chooses females. Desire sniffs and Despair points out they are all far more familiar than they like with Dream's kinks, and Destiny mutters something about humans barely having any sexual dimorphism.

Hob, of course, has no idea that Dream's family consider him far too vast for them to understand and also a being they were created to serve.

Oh I do love this way of looking at things. Dream’s weird biped fetish <333

Of course humans are fascinating but they really are quite... limited. Only 4 limbs, and such basic sexual organs. Of course they are sentient, which gives them a certain kudos in the universe, but they're not particularly advanced. Desire could list of a dozen creatures which are far more interesting in less than a minute. They've given up trying to understand Dream’s romantic inclinations. Even when he went for a more interesting biped form (Calliope would resent being addressed as that but its basically true), Dream chose a goddess associated with poetry. He could have fucked the SUN GOD! Or the goddess of agriculture, something interesting and all-encompassing like that! But no, he went for a muse of poetry. What a bloody weirdo.

And then there's Hob Gadling. Hoooooly shit. He's an actual human, less than 1000 years old, he's completely mundane, he has absolutely no extraordinary skills and he's so... just. Eww. The sweat and the dirt under the fingernails and breathing. He's a perfectly nice guy, Death is very fond of him, but she can't imagine taking him to bed. What would she do with him?! He can't even transcend the planes of reality!!

Well, Dream does at least seem happy. Perhaps he's exploring his submissive side in more detail by learning to serve a human on an individual basis? None of his siblings want to know, actually. Maybe it's time to give Dream up as a lost cause :')

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[shiyorin]

#Primarchs x reader but it is modern au

#Well, actually here are some drabbles I wrote for challenge modern au with my friends. I almost forgot I wrote it

#Romcom but actually one is a rom and one is a com.

#Menu: Sanguinius and Roboute Guilliman

Sanguinius

You sighed, gazing idly at the latest abstract sculptures on display. How you had been convinced to come to this event, you did not know. Curiosity, perhaps. Or a desire for something different, however fleeting.

You wandered from piece to piece, managing polite smiles and vague comments when addressed. The other patrons were a study in extravagance, jewel-toned gowns, colognes that announced wealth and status with every spray. You felt woefully out of place in your modest attire, there to observe from the sidelines.

Making to leave, you turned, and found yourself face to face with Sanguinius himself.

He smiled gently, warmly, in a manner that made your ensuing frown seem all the harsher. "I thought that might be you," he said. "I'm glad you decided to come."

What could you say? That you had no interest in his efforts, his wealth, his world of aesthetics and social climbing? Somehow you doubted even your harshest words could dampen that gentle smile.

Instead, you said. "The artwork is…interesting."

Sanguinius chuckled. "You despise it."

You clenched your jaw. Were you that transparent? But before you could retort, Sanguinius continued.

"That's alright. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, as they say." He held your gaze steadily, openly. "If you'll allow me, I think I see a kind of beauty in you that transcends all this."

You blinked, taken aback. This was not the response you had anticipated. Before you could gather your thoughts, Sanguinius bowed his head. "Forgive me. I overstep." And with that, he was gone, lost amidst the crowd.

You stood still for a long moment, pondering this strange encounter. A part of your wished to dismiss it, leave this foreign world behind once more. And yet, something intrigued you about him.

With a sigh, you left the gallery. But your thoughts lingered still on Sanguinius.

*****

Sanguinius sighed, staring out the window of his studio with unseeing eyes. His mind replayed the brief encounter with you at the gallery over and over, cataloging every awkward beat and missed opportunity.

"You despise it." He had said, and he had chuckled, played it cool. As if his heart wasn't pounding at finally being face to face with this enigmatic who held his thoughts captive.

He should have said something clever, charming. Asked your favorite flowers, favorite wine. Instead he offered vague platitudes and retreated like a coward, leaving you in there.

Sanguinius cringed. Had all those years playing the beloved artist prince addled his silver tongue beyond repair?

Pushing away from the window, he began to pace. He could have told you about the time he sprained his wrist painting your likeness from memory. Or how every sculpture he crafted seemed an effort to capture some fleeting trace of your grace. Or how -

"Ridiculous," he muttered to the empty room. You clearly wanted nothing to do with his affections. And well you should! What had he to offer beyond annoy you?

Still, the memory of your averted gaze and tightly crossed arms stung him.

"Next time," he vowed to the mirror, "Next time, I just need one more."

With a sigh, Sanguinius turned back to his workbench, and began to sketch. Ideas for new pieces taking shape, works that might one day, somehow, win the regard of your heart.

Roboute Guilliman

Guilliman jogged up the stairs to your loft, dread pooling in his gut. The half-coherent slurring over the phone signaled trouble, as usual. 

Upon entering, he sighed at the all-too-familiar sight awaiting - you sprawled gracelessly across the couch, bottle of vodka dangling precariously from limp fingers as you brow furrowed intensely at your laptop on the floor.

"What did we talk about this?" Guilliman sighed, bending to retrieve the laptop. He knew before even booting it up what he'd find. 

"I'm verrrrry fine and for sure not drunk!" You protested, flailing an arm wildly. "Why would I need to be drunk, nothing was wrrrong at all. The vodkaaaaa? Naw, that's just...that's just morrrrrral suppppppppport!" 

Guilliman pinched the bridge of his nose, opening the laptop. Yep, there was your popular anonymous venting forum, your anonymous profile clearly hammered as usual. 

"You need to stop getting on the internet when you're drunk, or stop getting drunk when you're on the internet," he lectured wearily. "Jeez, this is...ugh."

You barked a harsh laugh. "You're one to taaaaaaaalk! At leassssst I don't write angry tweets to Landlord Association Presidents about proper...proper ventilation codes when I'm trasheeeeeeed!" 

Guilliman flushed, fishing out his phone. Sure enough, several draft angry tweets awaited deletion in the morning. He coughed. "Regardless, you're dealing with the consequences of your actions this time." 

You groaned as he scrolled. "I say one little thing about Angron's anger issues suddenly meaning he can't handle a puppy and everyone loses their minds!" 

Guilliman read the fiery thread questioning Angron's prospective puppy adoption. Yikes. At least you hadn't doxxed anyone in your drunken ranting this time. Small miracles. 

"Lucky for you, I cleaned it up," he reassured, sparing your the drama. "Now, let's get you hydrated before round two of the vomiting begins."

You scowled but obediently sipped the electrolyte drink he handed your. "You're no fun, Roboute. How am I supposed to vent my frustrations creatively without liquid inspiration?" 

"You could try a journal, or healthy coping skills." he suggested blandly, though they both knew that was pointless. This was who you was - passionate, impulsive, and mysteriously charming even wasted. 

"Ugh, soooo boring. Maybe I'll just start an anonymous YouTube venting channel. What could go wrong?" You mused, raking a hand through tangled hair. 

Guilliman groaned. "Please don't give the internet any more of your drunken thoughts. For now, focus on keeping what's left of your dinner down and get some rest. I'll be here making sure you don't do anything too regrettable offline too."

You flipped him a rude gesture but burrowed underneath the blankets obediently. He chuckled, settling in for the long night watch as usual. Another crisis averted, for now at least. You sniffled miserably from beneath the blanket mound as Guilliman scrolled through the aftermath of your drunken posting. 

"Oh god, you thought about it, didn't you?" he sighed knowingly. Last year's intoxicated vent had sparked such a vicious flame war that his still shuddered at the memory. 

That seemed to be the tipping point as you burst into tears. "I'm trying to change, this shit, people from the outside don't get how much bullshit we gotta put up with, and if lucky hate it, and, and-" 

"Okay, alright, you need to sleep this off," Guilliman soothed, setting the laptop aside. "Come on, up you get."

But you only cried louder, curling in on yourself tighter. Guilliman sighed, recognizing the onset of a full-blown anxiety attack. 

"Look, you know why you're not supposed to use Twitter, yeah?" He asked gently. You nodded miserably into the couch. 

"Because I get like this."

Resigned to damage control, Guilliman retrieved the laptop once more. Glancing at your drunken thread, he frowned. "Ugh..."

You peeked out with red-rimmed eyes. "Is it that bad?"

Guilliman hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. The thread had devolved into the usual vitriol and trash talk, with more than a few personal insults directed at you yourself sprinkled in.

"Well...maybe we should ask Alpharius and Omegon to solve it." he suggested, only half joking. The twin did have an uncanny knack for scrubbing digital messes unseen. 

You hiccuped a watery giggle at the idea of unleashing the secret agents on your trolls. Your panic seemed to ease slightly.

Guilliman couldn't help a small smile in return before launching into maximum distraction mode. "Alright, you've had your fun crying for tonight. Now it's time to plot our revenge against the haters!"

You sniffled but nodded, anticipation gleaming through your swollen eyes. "What did you have in mind...?"

"Well first, we gather blackmail on the worst offenders..." Guilliman began deviously, launching into an absurdly convoluted revenge scheme. 

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #reader insert #modern au #Does anyone want to send a request for modern au? #lol

[sweetbottletops]

Neat little interview with Arai Sumiko.

(Bad MTL below the cut. Especially note already nuanced love talk in the original language further removed by MTL)

── What was the idea for the story of two girls, Mitsuki and Aya?

I've always wanted to draw a story between girls. I also like the story of two people from opposite worlds with gaps, and I think that's where I came up with the idea. I love to draw, and I used to post things like two-page comics with no dialogue on social media from time to time. I thought that if there were no lines, it would be easier for people overseas to spread the word, and even if they didn't understand Japanese, they would enjoy it. One of them is the source of 『気になってる人が男じゃなかった』.

──『気になってる人が男じゃなかった』 received a great response when it was announced, and now Arai's X has more than 1 million followers. Was the announcement on social media also due to the ease of communication overseas that you just mentioned?

I didn't think it would be like this, so I didn't think too much about it (laughs). I was very happy to be able to connect with people from overseas through SNS. There was a time when I lived abroad, so I feel that spending time in a completely different environment has made me who I am today. Perhaps, the number of stories between women in the world is not as large as that of love stories between men and women, or between men, so it may have been suitable for social media.

── Why did you want to depict the relationship between two girls?

I think the relationship between women is very intimate. That feeling when we got really close…… They wear matching clothes, listen to the same music, and spend hours together without talking. It's not like love, it's a love that has always been there. Isn't love over when you break up? I have a bit of a prejudice in me, and I want to draw something that transcends it. If we can be together even if we don't have a relationship title, I think that's love. I'm sorry, it's hard to understand.

── I've always longed for a relationship that can't be named, or a relationship where it's just two people, so I feel like I understand it.

We all have a lonely part and loneliness that we can't share with others. Especially when you're young, everyone has a lot of different feelings. However, I think that if I can create an existence that resonates with such a soft part of my heart, it will last a lifetime.

── How did you come up with the character of Mitsuki, who was thought to be mysterious older brother, but was a cool girl? It's completely my preference, but I love people who are women but can see the masculineness, so I created the character of Mitsuki from there. What if a sober girl actually has a tattoo? And such? I also wanted to depict her kindness. Mitsuki is unconscious, but she is naturally compassionate.

── Handsome and gentle, isn't it? As a way of depicting sexuality, the feeling that the existence of the person is affirmed as it is, including the fact that she is a woman, is conveyed from the drawing, and it is exciting.

Thank you. I'm happy because I'm particular about the shape of Mitsuki's slightly bony wrist line, fingers, and nails. There are parts of the picture in Volume 1 that make me think, "Wow" when I reread it now, but I did my best to make Mitsuki's expression when she tells Aya that she wants to be friends. From the time of the name, I drew a lot of facial expressions (laughs). I've improved a bit at drawing, so I've been drawing a lot lately, and I think I'm good at it a lot.

── It's a memorable scene where the two become friends at school.

I love the American TV drama "Glee" (a music-comedy-drama about a high school choir where minorities gather), and I grew up watching that show. I was moved by the story of a sparkling person who seems to have everything, but in fact has emotions that cannot be told to others, so I wanted to draw it myself. Aya has that element in it. Aya is feminine on the outside, but she is shy. When it comes to other people, she's the kind of girl with a lot of grit who confronts her with a "huh?"

── In the second volume, the individuality of each of them became more apparent.

Mitsuki hides herself at school, but the way she hides her personality is actually very attractive. It's fun to depict how talking to Aya brings out more and more of her true self at school.

──It's so nice to be the most yourself when you're with the people you love. Being able to be yourself means having confidence in yourself. By not worrying about what people think, you will be able to see what you care about and the right person for you. Like Mitsuki brought Aya closer. The person who is most saved by being dignified is yourself. That's why I want to value my own individuality, and I draw manga with the hope that I will be able to do so.

── Music is also an important element of this manga. It is colored in two colors, yellow-green and black, which are rare in manga, and when I first read it, I thought it was rock.

Actually, I chose yellow-green 15 minutes before the first episode was posted on social media (laughs). I didn't think it would go viral, and I thought it would be nice to have a rock feel and a slightly dangerous color, so I put it in on a whim. That Last Minute Decision (the last minute decision) may have been a good one.

── NIRVANA and other music are featured in the film, but what is Arai's own musical journey?

When I was little, I loved BECK's album "Guero" the most in the world, and I remember dancing to it at my father's office. That's where my love for rock music started. NIRVANA's music is exceptional, but I also sympathize with frontman Kurt Cobain's feminism and pushing the boundaries of gender. I was an only child, so I spent a lot of time alone, and I moved to a place where I didn't speak the language, so I feel like I was able to cultivate my imagination while filling in the silence with music.

──Even in 『気になってる人が男じゃなかった 』 the music connects the completely different worlds of Mitsuki and Aya and expands them even further.

Let's see. The last scene of Volume 2 is very memorable for me. Aya stops Mitsuki from getting off the pedestrian bridge that can be taken as a stage, but I think it's a friend, and I think it's love. There's also a love for the music that Mitsuki makes.

── "This song connects the world!!" I was also fascinated by the straight line. Is there anything you keep in mind when drawing music?

In my case, I'm completely self-satisfied and just put in the music I like, and I can't say anything admirable, but I think a lot about which songs go well with each scene. There are scenes made from music, and the scene where Aya and Mitsuki hold hands in Volume 2 came to mind when I was listening to The Shins.

──Official playlist But it's also fun to read while actually playing music.

I'm a little embarrassed because I choose it myself (laughs), but I'm happy. I didn't tell anyone, but the official playlist is trying to arrange the songs that Mitsuki and Aya each chose so that they alternate as much as possible. Of course, the flow of music is the most important priority.

──Knowing that changes the way you listen even more! I'm looking forward to seeing what the future holds for them. Thank you very much.

[x]

(Is she a Dianna Agron stan? This is the second connection after this earlier in the year. Also I think this Glee thing gives her an honorary Tumblr diploma too.)

#I saw the typo hours later #I'm putting two and two together and declaring her a Dianna Agron stan #the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all #arai sumiko #green manga #manga

[renard-dartigue]

My Sleep Token Creature Headcanons

These are ideas that came to me for the passed few weeks and wrote down:

The vessels aren't actually wearing black paint. That's Sleep's influence manifesting on their bodies.

They wear masks not to frighten their followers during rituals because Sleep has mutated them almost beyond recognition. But Vessel wears his mask to protect the audience.

Vessel

Vessel has 6 pairs of eyes and his perception of reality is heightened. When off stage he only opens the middle row but can open the other sets whenever he wants, though he often gets dizzy doing it. When channeling Sleep's power he opens all three sets and they shine brightly. When using Sleep's power, Vessel can vaguely see the fabric of the universe, infinite strings of information flowing into his mind in bursts, fueling his creativity. However, or thankfully, Sleep heavily censures 99.9% of that information so that Vessel's brain doesn't shatter. Wearing his mask on stage is important because a gateway to Sleep manifest on his face. Staring directly into the gateway will cause people's eye's to explode and liquefy their brains.

II

II can hear and feel the rhythm of the universe. He can raise or lower the "volume" whenever and can allow others to hear it as well. During rituals, he taps into this rhythm, making them more effective. With his drumming and Vessel's incantations, they set the pace of the ritual, providing a safe connection between Sleep and our reality. If Vessel can see the strings of the universe, II can touch them, holding them out for Vessel to pluck. Outside of rituals, he will tap his foot or his fingers in sync with the universe, the actions are soothing to him. His heart beats to this rhythm.

III

III is a bit of a conundrum, even to himself. He is a shape-shifter but not in the traditional sense. His body shapes not into other people but impossible forms. He is still a tall lanky man, same as before he discovered Sleep. However, his body can stretch and contort in impossible ways. He can also change colors but red is the only one that manifests, blobs and patches shifting across his body. One might say his form is ever changing, like the universe itself.

IV

IV being the newest addition to that band, his abilities manifested recently. Basicly, he has a taste for blood. But not in the traditional blood sucking way from ancient myths. Drinking blood seems to grant him knowledge almost similar to Vessel's but on a lesser scale. Blood brings Sleep closer to our world. Human and animal blood work, but human blood is more potent. Its effects are even stronger when someone willingly offers their blood to him, willing giving up a peice of one's lifeforce to Sleep.

Additions

All four of them can travel to a portion of the astral plain while dreaming, but only Vessel can go deeper without losing his mind.

They have many smaller ritual to communicate with Sleep but its takes a few nights before Sleep responds, the reply cryptic but satisfactory once they all figured it out.

The Vesselettes are the most mysterious, even to the vessels. Its not clear when they joined the band but it's likely the choir have grown so close to Sleep that they have transcended their humanity into beings beyond our understanding. They help Vessel with incantations so he doesn't get too overwhelmed channeling Sleep's power.

And that's about all I came up with heh.

#sleep token #sleep token band #sleep token vessel #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

You know, when I saw the action episode in the Season episode list, it thought it would be something big since “action” is the concept of the bee miraculous. Which gave me two ideas (one before I knew it was a ecological episode, and one after)

Before:a epilogue about Chloe having a small redemption and ending and having a good ending

After:I imagined the premise of the entire next season being about facing a evil scientist who had a multi steps plan involving sabotaging the “miraculous ladybug” so he could make he’s company thrive around fixing the damage he’s mutant monsters create (making a problem and then a solution)

(You know to make a actual criticism to capitalism, company’s and contamination)

and getting ladybug’s trust, only to pretend ladybug took he’s arm off on a accident fighting a monster (it was actually a prosthetic/upgrade he gave to himself) to slander ladybug and make he’s way to presidency to put everyone against the heroes so no matter if ladybug defeats the monster, she’ll be hated, he’ll be loved and sooner or later that would give him the miraculous by making ladybug’s job harder and harder.

And then is revealed the guy wasn’t supposed to actually get that far (probably a accident on the timeline caused by Gabriel’s wish which transcends space and time) and he ends up deleting the time line of future Bunnix by just existing, and the guy kept making monsters and even turning people into monsters until he had so much power it seemed invincible until he’s own (favorite) monster betrays him to replace he’s plan of “becoming humanity’s god” with “destroying humanity” because he forgot making a monster pure evil (even in code) meant making it very treacherous and untrustworthy (a villain who’s only true enemy was he’s own ego and pride, who couldn’t even think of he’s monsters betraying him for how high he sees himself) and then the monster (who use to be people) would become the main threat for what’s left of the arc

Am I in the wrong for expecting the episode titled after the concept of one of the most controversial characters, which happens after THE FINAL BATTLE to not have any relevance in any way shape or form and to happen before said finale?

Maybe I should have lowered my expectations when I discovered it was a “wannabe Capitan planet” episode

I can understand. I thought the same thing, though I can understand why this episode wouldn't connect to anything, seeing how it was meant to be something shown in classrooms.

But given everything that happened in Season 5, we really needed an epilogue episode to really show the aftermath of the events of the season finale.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt

[tdwpuniverse]

Miranda Priestly, the Powerful Editor-in-Chief of Runway, Announces New Relationship with Former Assistant Andrea Sachs.

In the world of fashion, Miranda Priestly is an iconic figure, known for her intimidating and demanding personality that inspires both admiration and fear in the halls of Runway magazine. However, recently, headlines around the world have been dominated by a revelation that took everyone by surprise: Miranda Priestly is dating none other than Andrea Sachs, her former assistant.

Miranda has spent years shaping the next generation of fashion professionals, and Andrea was one of the lucky ones to cross her path. When Andrea first entered as an assistant, she had little idea of what awaited her in the frenetic and competitive world of Runway. However, her courage and dedication led her to become a key player in the fashion empire built by Miranda Priestly.

Since then, there have been constant speculations about the relationship between the two, but no one could predict that Miranda Priestly and Andrea Sachs would go beyond the professional dynamic. The news of their relationship shocked many, as Miranda is known for her unwavering and distant aura. Rumors have long circulated about Miranda's mysterious love life, but she has always managed to keep her privacy intact.

In an exclusive interview granted to Runway, Miranda Priestly herself stated: "Love is unpredictable and can happen to anyone, at any moment. Andrea has proven to be an exceptional woman, and our connection transcended the boundaries of the professional realm. We have been together for a while and decided to share this wonderful news with the world.

Andrea, on the other hand, has remained silent on the matter, choosing not to comment on her personal life. However, sources close to her reveal that the relationship is not just a fairy tale, but is based on a deep respect and mutual admiration.

The news of the relationship surprised the fashion industry and fans of Miranda Priestly, who now eagerly await more details about this unlikely union. After all, will Andrea be able to withstand the pressure and high standards of Miranda Priestly in the relationship, just as she did during her time as an assistant?

This new chapter in the lives of Miranda Priestly and Andrea Sachs has the potential to shake the foundations of the fashion world, as hearts and minds speculate on how this partnership will influence the dynamics between the two in the Runway universe. Has Miranda finally found her leading lady in Andrea, or will their professional relationship become complicated in the context of a romance?

Only time will tell how this new chapter will unfold. One thing is certain: whether together or apart, Miranda Priestly and Andrea Sachs will continue to bring boldness and elegance to the world of fashion. Stay tuned to the upcoming pages of Runway to discover more about this relationship that is shaking up the fashion world.

#miranda priestly #mirandy #o diabo veste prada #the devil wears prada #andy sachs #editorial #runwaymagazine #relationship #love

[laylajeffany]

Word Count: 800,000+ (in-progress, with regular updates) Rating: T

Summary “Wednesday, you are so new to love’s torturous sting. It simply takes time to get used to the poison, my darling. You have to build up a tolerance for it. Then – you’ll start to wonder how you ever lived without it.”

Enid accidentally summons a demon in an attempt to communicate with her wolf, and somehow – that is not Wednesday’s biggest problem upon the return to Nevermore. With a raging suspicion that Principal Weems was not actually murdered, Wednesday starts to unravel her latest mystery while trying not to unravel herself. As emerging powers cause her to manifest physical symptoms, Wednesday has to learn to rely on those around her if she is going to grow as a Raven.

Ultra slow-burn WenClair, moving forward in an organic relationship, building from roommates to best friends to more. Picking up on some plot points from S1, Wednesday develops not only new abilities, but emotions and friendships as she examines her life through her new lens of Nevermore.

If you're new to this fic and unsure about starting due to the length, below the break will give you a spoiler-filled idea about when some of the major plot points/relationships happen.

Author's Note As I am squeezing in my writing time before vacation, I am reflecting on how proud I am of this fic. This is year 21 of writing fanfiction for me, and of course as we grow, our talents naturally increase, but I have never felt so accomplished about a piece of writing before. If you need some light reading (lmfao this fic will top one million words by the end of summer), I would like to recommend my own story. I don't ever do that and I probably won't do it again - but writing this fic has been such a bright spot in my life, and every opportunity I have to carve out a few thousand words I feel myself transcend.

When I received an old Addams Family book in the mail (here) a few weeks ago, I was flipping through and found the above summary of Wednesday. I have never felt more proud to be borrowing another character, as I feel that I do Charles Addams' Wednesday justice in this writing as we explore her sensitive/poetic side in addition to the harshness of her 2022 adaptation. (Don't worry - Enid will find Wednesday's sixth toe when she finally visits the Addams family home in Chapter 21.)

Chapters 1-5: Wenclair Roommate Friendship developing as Wednesday realized she'd genuinely missed Enid over the summer.

Main focus of early chapters is Wednesday trying to determine how Weems is alive, focusing on her powers starting to develop as physical symptoms and discovering more about how to tap in to her Raven abilities with the help of her mentor, the new administrator, Dr. Zypher. Dr. Zypher (39) is a herpetologist with a psychic ability to work with reptiles. She has been dating the only other known Raven, Emiliana, for 23 years, since they met via Larissa Weems at Nevermore. These two OCs have a very supportive and important role in the story. (We needed adults and ALL the important ones were killed off in S1. These OCs have been extremely well-received by the audience and are real people with flaws and strengths, distinct personalities. No Mary-Sues here, I promsie.)

Chapter 6: Enid breaks up with Ajax, Wednesday and Enid get closer than ever when the spirit Enid released attacks again. Wednesday vows to protect her. As Wednesday has found Weems trapped in her accidental shape-shift, she starts looking for divination-related ways to change her back. Wednesday starts to have to cope with very uncomfortable feelings that emerge from the ever-darkening of her visions as her powers start to grow massively.

Chapter 8: Wednesday starts to think she's closer to Enid than she ever has been to anyone else before. Wednesday learns about the importance of being vulnerable and showing some feelings. Starts to explore ways to protect Weems in her lower life form.

Chapter 10: Wednesday wonders what attraction is supposed to feel like, starts to think there may be something wrong with her. She knows what she is feeling for Enid is more than friendship but isn't experiencing physical attraction. Wednesday casts a powerful protection spell for Enid. Enid reveals that she imprinted on Wednesday during her first transformation and this has caused her extreme stress and alienation from her pack.

Chapter 11: Wednesday and Enid confront the spirit again. As it tries to possess Enid, Wednesday's protection spell holds and she confesses that night that she won't let anything happen to her because she loves her. She admits, she isn't sure if that love is romantic. Enid agrees with the sentiment and they decide to give it all more time. The girls start to work together to help Wednesday divert from the negative energy within her divination as part of her Raven nature to blend their energy together, earning more positive energy for Wednesday shared by Enid. Enid's mother is determined that Nevermore finds something to do about Enid's imprinting.

Chapter 13: Finally, the girls are dating after the full moon. It's adorable. Enid talks to her father and requests him to visit Nevermore.

Chapter 14: Things really take off with ways to help Weems transform Halloween - Wednesday temporarily banishes the spirit with Enid's help as they have grown so close.

Chapter 15: Wednesday starts to lose herself to divination a little bit as she becomes more desperate to complete the transformation on Weems. Dr. Zypher's Raven girlfriend arrives.

Chapter 16: Wednesday finally puts the pieces together and knows what she has to do to transform Weems. Enid's father arrives - she formally leaves her pack and considers Wednesday her main family. The Addams Family have accepted her whole-heartedly.

Chapter 17:-19 Successful transformation of Weems leads to extreme physical consequences for Wednesday. Lots of Wenclair Hurt/Comfort Wednesday resolves lots of tension with her family

Chapter 20: Closure of the first semester of events Wednesday invites herself into the "Nevermore Network" - an ambiguous concept alluded to throughout the story of how the Outcast world is all connected. These adults are increasingly interested in Wednesday's extreme shows of power and she goes behind her family/admin wishes to meet up with them when she returns to school in January.

Chapter 21: Yuletide & New Year - Enid at the Addams Family House

Chapter 22: Start of Second Semester at Nevermore Wednesday gets herself involved in some major drama within the Outcast community via the Nevermore Network Setting the stage for the second semester of events

#wenclair #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #AO3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #wednesday addams #I never do this and I will probably never do it again #but sometimes while you're at the airport you feel proud of yourself lol #laylajeffany fanfic update

[pt-sink-foetus]

Instrumentality / Heaven

This is going to be very unorganised, but, after watching NGE + EOE, I have some thoughts on the Instrumentality project in the context of growing up indoctrinated into Christianity. 

Considering all the references to Judaism and Christianity, to me, I consider Instrumentality to be symbolic of the Christian idea of heaven; there is no pain, no suffering, there’s oneness, perfection that cannot be attained through earthly means. I’m definitely not the first person to compare the Third Impact to the Rapture. As someone that broke away from Christianity due to various reasons-- one being the disillusionment with the concept of heaven-- I can see myself in Shinji through his final choice in EOE. 

Although Instrumentality is described as something that’ll transcend suffering, connecting people metaphorically and literally, those people stop being people. They lose their form and identity, it’s almost paradoxical really; you’ll have the most intimate relationship with others by literally fusing together into one life form, but you’re unable to continue living that relationship since there’s no longer a ‘them’ and a ‘you’ to experience, it’s just all eight billion of ‘us’ existing for an eternity. This resonates with how I was taught growing up that we wouldn’t be able to recognise people we cared for in heaven, that somehow there was nothing but joy in that void of souls, yet still, this was the ideal final destination. 

Shinji, like myself, being disillusioned by instrumentality/heaven, sees that there is no freedom in it. Who are you? Is that even important if you’re going to stop having a clear shape one day? Do your choices even matter? Why do anything at all? Even if life on earth is imperfect --sinful-- and can be a downright horrible experience, the small joys and connections we make along the way, the autonomy we have, and choices we make for ourselves significantly outweigh an existence of nothingness paraded as perfection. Heaven is truly a depressing concept to me. Heaven and Instrumentality are suicide.

Experiencing pain and suffering are inherent properties of being alive, but that just means the happier times are all the more important, which is why you shouldn’t give up on life. 

Every Rejection, Every Disappointment Has Led You Here To This Moment. Don’t Let Anything Distract You From It. // Everything Everywhere All At Once.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT. I LOVE YOU. // Disco Elysium.

#Judah preaches to the hordes #neon genesis evangelion #end of evangelion #shinji ikari

[betterbemeta]

One of the funniest things about warhammer 40k is that so much of its worldbuilding relies on an idea of 'the human psyche, its desires, fears, drives, insecurities, triumphs, dysfunctions.'

And on one level, the grim darkness of the setting is due to IN-UNIVERSE complete misunderstanding of that thing. Like the way that religious fundamentalism, fascism, reactionary politics, mistake the structures that enfranchise wealth and power for natural law. And then mistake observing how different classes react to living under such brutal conditions as 'human nature.'

But on another level, the misunderstanding ALSO comes from OUTSIDE the fictional universe. Like, OKAY, I'm not some kind of all-knowing superbrain that knows exactly how all people think and why. But even I can see that:

the archetypes baked into the Chaos Forces,

the paranoia of the Imperium,

the genres of power fantasies represented by different space marine chapters,

the repression of the Aeldari,

Drukhari hyperviolence,

etc. etc.

they have nothing to do with deep memes in the human psyche. They have everything to do with the projection of some specific British guys in 1987... underneath layers of collectable/toy marketing and the hangups of licensed paperback authors.

(I still don't know what the fuck is up with Bill King. Why is he like this???)

BUT, I think this element of shallow unreality actually works to Game Workshop's benefit a little because there is this... unspoken smugness that follows Warhammmer 40k around. A little self-superiority transcends what faction you prefer or if you care about books or games or the tabletop or whatever. There are two expressions and it exists in both:

you kind of know that this fictional universe's emotional core is based on silly bogus grounds. you feel better than its characters, more hinged, with a more realistic relationship with desire and self-actualization. You're on the outside looking in and it's preposterous, or,

you are a silly person who thinks the universe IS accurate to the thoughts and feelings of human people and this gives you CONFIDENCE because whatever you believe you also FEEL you are 'built different' because you ARE built differently than its model.

It's almost unbearably easy to roll your eyes and be like, how eldritch can the warp be??? if its just some thatcher era people being weird about gender and self-security???? Especially when much of the media outside tabletop battles you could 'win' styles that the universe's hazards are basically a calvinball heads-I-win-tails-you-lose situation. We're told that scary feelings and a bad relationship with self-esteem are as unconditionally deadly as machine gun fire, like 'you just explode, don't pass go, no argument, you're done.'

But to me, that frustration is also part of its charm. And part of its potential to connect to our real world despite being so goofily misfit. because every day political interests that have no true objective but making sure you stay put and perpetuate the conditions that benefit them, to your own destruction... they are gonna try to mow you down with your feelings. They ARE going to take advantage of the insecurities you feel and abstract them until they're such an unrecognizable shape that pursuing their goals is synonymous with what you think your desires are, to your eternal dissatisfaction. And not for the normal reason that desires can never be satisfied without fading away into emptiness. In real life too, powerful and stagnant structures leave futile placebo actions as the only option in dilemmas they themselves create: ones that will frustrate you and cause you to escalate your efforts that in the end reproduce those structures themselves. We have a relationship with phantasmic catnip. We're attracted to round hole square peg when our reality is difficult to reconcile and 40k is the universe of square pegs sold at ludicrous prices to ineffectively jam through the hole of your heart

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #i have a deadline and im waiting for someone to finish a draft and im livid #even right now i imagine grim darkness that is not even a good model of my own emotions #but is alluring to talk about anyway! #long post #why dumb space fight club is cool despite being a nerd's bad relationship with reality #we have a bad relationship with reality

[darling1001]

WHEN IT CRUMBLES

Miguel O'Hara & OFC

Part 1

Summary: Miguel rescues someone who shares his pain.

cw: Angst, blood mention.

Something wasn't right. The control room signals detected an anomaly but then vanished and shut down. They were sporadic, like if they were traveling from one dimension to another and back again. Because of these contradictions, Miguel had just one option: go investigate. The dimension in question was a cold area where it always snowed and there seemed to be no variation in temperatures, giving it a sorrowful atmosphere. Miguel conducted research before setting out on the hunt for an answer. He had logged numerous violent murders throughout the city, and he was fully aware that it was an anomaly. There was no Spiderman or Spiderwoman at the time. As a result, the dimension became more vulnerable and less secure.

The chilly air is burning Miguel's face. He pulls his scarf up to his nose, unused to these temperatures. Finding a running anomaly is challenging, and it becomes even more difficult when it can easily transcend dimensions. There were few people on the streets of this freezing New York. He could see people hurrying to shield themselves from the freezing wind, which seemed to have intensified. He went faster, to where Lyla showed, trying to complete his job as soon as possible, irritated by the constant cold that ran through his body. The location directed him to a long and gloomy lane. Miguel frowned as he approached the alley from the street. But something drew his attention; suddenly, lights and sounds familiar to him appeared at the end, illuminating the alley. Miguel smirked and dashed towards the streetlights. "I got you"

When he arrived at the location of the lights, the spontaneous portal had vanished, and the creature appeared to have fled the scene. Miguel grumbled angrily and summoned Lyla to ask for more coordinates; she materialized glitcin in front of him. But a noise from behind him woke him up. Someone could simply go hide in the alley because it was cluttered with rubbish and dumpsters, and Miguel wouldn't know because of his lack of spider senses.

Alma had no idea what had occurred. After being bitten by a spider in her hand, everything seemed to come alive, with noises and feelings flowing from everywhere, her head ached, and her hands itched. Second, a large red monster appeared out of nowhere and began running towards the street, and a weird tall man appeared before her and spoke to a yellow hologram girl with amazing heart shaped glasses, which Alma now wanted too. And all the while she rummaged among the trash for something of interest to bring home. The girl crouched behind a garbage container, pulling up the hood of her hoodie and taking a long breath as she considered her next move. But she felt something, something that made her move; a need to escape ran through her entire body, and she did so, unwittingly escaping the man who was approaching her with inhuman speed.

Miguel came to a halt when he noticed the person who was hiding from him. She was a girl, perhaps around 13 years old. The girl ran afraid, but she did something unusual: she ran unusually fast for a regular girl.

The girl must have seen something.

Miguel went after her in the most harmless manner possible, but let's face it, Miguel doesn't look friendly at all. Despite the fact that the girl was quick, Miguel was more experienced and caught up with her. He gently yanked on her hood, turning her around to get a better look at her. The girl appeared grimy, as if she had gone through the trash. Her hair was white and shoulder length, and her eyes were dark as coal. The girl kicked and fought her way out.

"Hey, quit that!" Miguel scowled. In anxiety, the girl pursed her lips. She also attempted to bite his arm.

"What exactly do you want me to do, man?!? You're terrifying, and you look to be chewing on a fucking lemon the whole time!!" After attempting to bite him, she yelled at him.

"Did you really just try to bite my arm?" He said, perplexed, as he wiped the saliva from his arm. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to know what you saw back there"

"I can tell you everything I know with a little encouragement." She gave him a cheeky look and extended her hand, revealing her palm. When she observed her outraged expression, she finished, "Nothing is free in this world."

"I thought you were afraid of me 2 minutes ago," Miguel remarked.

"You can never pass up an opportunity, sir," the girl said dismissively.

"Pinche niña," Miguel whispered as he examined the pockets of his slacks (he had dressed casually to fit in) and found 40 bucks, a mint candy, and a kitten keychain.

Alma smiled warmly and took all of Miguel's items from his grasp. “this seems enough!” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling at the kitty keychain.

"Are you always like this?" Please, no. "No courtesy?" She inquired, a small smile on her face.

In annoyance, Miguel rolled his eyes and touched the bridge of his nose. "Can you please tell me what you saw?" He questioned vehemently. "I really like her!" Layla spoke via his earpiece.

"Of course!" exclaimed Alma. "First, that thing appeared out of nowhere; it was so big, tall, and red, as if it had like sticky blood flowing from its body. And it was extremely, very ugly, with nothing pretty, not a single pretty thing," Alma said, running her hands up and down to explain. "And it went that way," she said, pointing, "and if you don’t mind me, I have to go."

When Miguel moved his sight to where the girl was, she had already vanished around the corner. "Who is she, Lyla?" Miguel inquired, both curiously and attentively. "nothing more and nothing less, that was the spider girl from this universe. Her name is Alma López, and she was only bitten a few minutes before you found her."

———————————————————————————

Alma ran into the brisk wind, the cold scorching her cheeks like it had so many times before. She grinned as she felt the 40 dollars in her pocket, despite being used to the cold. She dashed to the supermarket to get food, warm and tasty. Her smile did not waver as she considered returning home to show her parents and brother what she had got.

The closer she went to home, the more excited she became. Her family's home was not fancy or large; it was a tiny one-story dwelling with one room. Alma promised her parents that when she finished school and sought for an appropriate job, she would find a nicer place for them. She'd find them somewhere better, somewhere they wouldn't be cold, somewhere they'd eat enough to stop the pain of emptiness in their belly, somewhere they'd eat three times a day. A place where her mother could relax and recover from her illness, and where her father could help her worn old back. she could help her brother.

But she had no idea that her dreams would be dashed by the impending reality.

The atmosphere in New York was different, more anxious. She could sense that something horrible was going on. Her heart racing and her senses tingling, she increased her steps. She came to a halt when she saw her neighbors' houses collapse and smash into each other, collapsing to nothing and disappearing all at once. "What the fuck...?" Alma was worried and murmured. She rushed home like she'd never run before. She had to find them.

The pristine white scenery was shattered. Red droplets and stains coated the ground and created a path to her house's doors. The door opened as if it were inviting anybody in, and the rusty stench reached her nose. The bags fell to the floor and the biting stopped as soon as she entered. It was like a painting and the walls were the canvas.

“Mom? Dad?”

“It smells like spider in here” a deep and eerie voice came from the house.

bite, bites, bites.

Chewing, chewing

swallowing…

What kind of nightmare is this?

Alma took a step forward and stepped on something; when she looked down, she saw that the floors were covered with red paint. But... was that truly red paint? She hoped it was red paint.

Everything happened so quickly that there was no time to think about it. Alma noticed the sound when she first saw the red beast. Then she heard heavy and powerful footsteps, like if an animal was racing. When the ferocious animal shoved her out of the path, she fell to the ground and noticed them. It was there when she witnessed everything. Her parents unrecognizable on the floor, smeared in red paint.

Now everything unfolded gradually, as if in slow motion, her chest and breathing rose, and her heart ran miles, she could feel it racing inside her body. She felt herself breaking apart, like if she were being pulled open. Her world was crumbling. literally. But something jolted her out of her stupor. Someone was tugging at her sleeve with great desperation.

“Alma, please talk to me” Her young brother, Luka, pulled her sleeves up in anguish as he noticed what her sister witnessed.

Her eyes move fast. Her pupils dilated as her eyes enlarged. Her face was pale, and she was sweating despite the cold. She jerked awake and hastily snatched her brother into her arms, covering his eyes as she moved to get out of there.

"Don't look, don’t look. We'll be fine, we'll be fine," she repeated weakly, like a mantra.

Alma, who was on the floo-" her little brother asked, clinging to her sister in horror.

“No, they’re okay. They’re just sleeping! Yes, sleeping. Just… sleeping” She whispered shakily as she walked through the snow looking for whatever she was looking for. Something safe.

But everything appeared to be wrong, and everything was wrong. Everything appeared to vanish in cracks.

Where have all the people gone? Where has everyone gone?

"Alma" his brother groaned, "I don't feel well," his breath frozen and frigid air escaping from his lip, his words sounded bad like everything else around it, sliced up like a computer glitch. “It hurts”

She came to a halt and knelt on the ground, holding her brother in her arms. Her breath became stuck in her throat, and her desperation took control of her body. "What is going on?" What are you feeling? I promise I'll take care of you. I’m sorry, Please do not leave. "Please, Luka," she pleads as she watches her brother go away, as if he never been, her voice muffled by tears and her aching throat heard everywhere, her hands clinging to the snow underneath her. "Luka, please come back; don't leave me alone." she fell to the ground even lower, hugging her body as she cried harder and trembled.

So cold, it’s really cold

I don’t like this cold anymore

She didn't know when the cold ceased, but she felt him holding her tightly and the irregular movements of her body abruptly stopped, leaving her floating. But she was no longer cold and that was much better.

"I've got you. I've got you. You're fine and safe. I swear." He muttered gently and calmly, his words carefully rocking her.



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