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lucidloving · 19 days

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I learned how to be quiet about pain when I was very young. I learned how to fold in on myself like laundry, to take up less space in the cupboard. I learned how to keep the peace around me by sweeping the dirt under my own rug.

I have been taught that expressing my less favourable emotions is just complaining—something weak people do when they're too incompetent to solve their own problems.

Incompetent. Incompetent. This word is very important to me. Incompetent is the word I am always running from. To run from incompetency means to run from feeling dejected, feeling lost, feeling hurt. To run from incompetency is to run towards goodness. To run towards a me who knows all the answers and shoulders all the burdens and shrugs off all the pain.

Some days I am not very good at this race I am running. Days when the past lurches forward to bite my ankles, or days when the future looks back to scorn my present.

On these days I am weak. The poise slips. It's all too easy to cry a little and vent my fears. I forget that I am supposed to be keeping all of this shut away where no one else can see. I forget that I am not supposed to be dragged down by these feelings in the first place.

Today I feigned nonchalance and I feigned it well. No one noticed that I was hurt by the thing that happened, and sitting alone in all my hurt, I was bitterly gratified. I had fulfilled the proper narrative of an animal who is injured and returns to its cave to lick its wounds only in private.

But there is a desperation for the hidden pain to be noticed. This is the Achilles' Heel of the whole stealth operation; it threatens the little play I have constructed in which I suffer alone and inconvenience no one and am all the stronger for it.

Today I stood upright to talk to my mother and doubled over in pain the moment she left the room. It is satisfying, knowing I did the valiant and honourable thing of keeping the damn pain to myself. It is infuriating, the way my eyes flickered to the door in the dark and private hope that she would come back in and witness me while I was down.

I want to be strong and hide all the hard things away. I want someone to see my efforts to hide all the hard things away and realise I'm strong. I want to bring to life this character I have created who suffers without complaint and is loved when the truth is revealed. Who suffers well.

This is the person who stores up agony to a breaking point, to justify the ultimate snapping of composure. This is the person who wants to be depended on relentlessly and one-sidedly, so that someone someday might notice the unfairness of it all. This is the person who virtuously and righteously take all the hits without a sound, so that when they finally, inevitably break, their pain will come to light all at once and inspire awe and guilt in equal measure.

Who am I, really? Is it terrible to want to play this character? Perhaps some old wound craves acknowledgement and understanding and doesn't know how else to ask for it except by hiding until it festers.

Strength. Competency. Resilience. Dependability. Independence. They have all become synonyms in my black and white dictionary. They have all become straws for the drowning man.

I self-impose silence. I take pleasure in denial and secrecy. I take pride in successfully keeping a problem to myself.

Pride. That's another important word. I think I have too much of it, although it pains me when others point it out. Pride implies I think highly of myself, which is something a good person should never do. Pride is so audaciously self-absorbed, so high-and-mighty, so filthy with ego. There's probably a lot of it in this damn thing I've written.

Pride is the other thing that keeps my mouth shut. The thing that says I should be austere, untouchable, immovable. Pride is the thing that says look here, you don't have a lot going for you so you better keep this mask on right if you want to be good. If you want to be admired.

These terrible things keep me safe. I can't let go of that stupidly noble character or that cowardly pride. I need them to shield me from the reality that I am emotional, not all that put together, and honestly hopeless most of the time.

I need to have something worth liking about myself. I need to have a grit that makes me undeniably good. I need to have a strength that goes unsung, that lies in wait of discovery.

What an exhausting way to live. But it's the only way I know.

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violettduchess · 4 months

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A/N: This year, as I deal with a far more limited amount of free time, I want to focus on writing things that really spark something for me. These headcanons, which I started almost 6 months ago, recently came roaring back into my imagination and I decided to go for it.

This is imagining how these suitors would react to their small child entering their bedroom in the middle of the night.

Leon, Sariel, Jin, Keith and Gilbert

WC: 2.2 k

The child's white bedroom door, painted with a silvery moon and twinkling stars, opens slowly, a whisper in the still of the night. A small head pokes out, knuckling sleepily at eyes still heavy with the remnants of dreaming. A look left, then right.

The hall is empty.

Tiny bare feet tiptoe across plush carpeting.

One hand clutches a stuffed animal, the other reaches for the curved handle of your bedroom door and which, on a quiet exhale, opens.

Leon

He is awake the moment the door opens. A light sleeper, he never fails to hear when his daughter enters your bedroom, no matter how quietly she tries to. Even now, he pushes himself up, running a hand through his cacophony of dark hair, watching his offspring step as quietly as possible as she makes her way towards the bed. She’s so concentrated on not making noise that she doesn’t notice he’s already up and watching her until she arrives at the foot of the bed.

“Papa!” Her gasp is half surprise, half disappointment when she realizes he has, as always, heard her. Leon laughs softly, the sound still rough with sleep as he motions for her to come over to his side of the bed.

“I was trying to be extra, extra quiet.” He offers her his hand and she takes it, climbing into the bed and then into the circle of his arms where he cuddles her close. “You were, peanut. You were very quiet but your father has very, very good ears. Especially at night.”

Perhaps someday she’ll learn why. How good hearing and light sleeping could mean the difference between life and death in the slave pens. But not tonight. Tonight she snuggles into his embrace, clutching her brown bear with his black and red cape to her chest.

“Shall I bring you back to your bed?” He brushes several dark locks of hair that have escaped her braid away from her plump cheek, his golden eyes warm with affection. His daughter stifles a yawn. “Can I stay here tonight, with you and Mama?”

How can he say no? “Of course.” He shifts her, tucking her in close against his side where she curls up like a kitten, warm and content. Leon sighs, his heart fuller than he ever imagined it could be, before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Sariel

He looks up from the paperwork on his lap when the bedroom door slowly opens. One glance at the clock on his nightstand and he knows exactly who dares enter his room, unannounced, in the middle of the night.

His son, hair dark as onyx, eyes as bright as violets, peeks around the door to see his father sitting up in bed, reading by the soft light of an oil lamp.

“I see you, little one.” The child gives up stealth and hurries into his parents’ room, climbing up the foot of the bed and crawling his way across the velvety covers up to Sariel, careful not to jostle you while you are sleeping. He settles in next to his father, peering at the sheaf of papers still in his hands. “Why are you still up, Papa? It’s so late.”

Sariel glances down at his son, his lips curved in a soft shadow of a smile. “You know what? You are correct. It is very late.” He carefully removes his glasses, placing them in a safe spot on his nightstand and then sets the missives and letters and parchments beside them. He extends his arms and his son happily accepts the silent invitation, burrowing into his father’s embrace, clutching his soft, stuffed snake with the onyx eyes close to his little chest. “We’ll go to sleep together, ok Papa?”

Sariel reaches out, extinguishing the warm light and then shifts, dipping his head to press a kiss to his son’s midnight hair. “A sound plan, son.” He closes his eyes, contentment flowing through him like the soft waves of the ocean. “A very sound plan.”

Jin

He freezes, lifting his head from your neck, his large hand going still on the sensitive skin of your hip. As involved as he may be with you, he has excellent hearing and the opening of the door is as loud in its whisper as a gust of howling wind. He feels the soft huff of air against his cheek as you reign in your galloping heart. Things were just getting good.... With a groan, a mixture of disappointment and the dying embers of desire, he sits up as you adjust your nightgown and tilts his head at the small outline in the doorway.

“Yes, Princess? What is it?”

“I heard a noise. In my wardrobe. I think there’s a monster in there.” Her voice is small, almost tentative as it floats through the darkened bedroom. Jin pushes back his covers, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. He reaches back, squeezing your hand, a gesture that says I’ve got this, before getting up and walking toward his daughter. "Alright little lady, let's go investigate." She slips her small hand in his, clutching her stuffed baby eagle close as they make their way back to her bedroom.

Stepping inside, she pulls her hand away from his and points to the white and lavender closet. “In there, Papa.” Her garnet-colored eyes are wide as Jin clears his throat, fixing a scowl on his face as he faces the wooden doors.

“Listen up. This is Prince Jin speaking and any and all monsters hiding in this wardrobe better leave RIGHT now or else you’ll have to answer to me!”

“Yeah!”, she adds helpfully, eyes narrowing as she glares at the wardrobe, a mirror image of her father.

Jin reaches forward and flings open one door, then the other. Inside are all her dresses and coats. Her shoes all lined up neatly along the bottom. A few stockings peek out of small drawers and her wooden training sword and shield with Jin's crest lean against the side, askew. Jin searches through the clothing, stands on his toes to check the top shelves. He makes a show of it, incredibly thorough and yet serious. Then he turns around to face his daughter. “Looks like any monsters are long gone. And they won’t be coming back.”

A smile like the dawn breaks over her face and she rushes towards him. He leans down and catches her in his arms, holding her tightly against his broad chest. “Thank you, Papa. No monster would ever be stupid enough to come back now!”

Jin carries her back to her white four-poster bed, grinning as he lays her down amongst her fluffy pillows and pulls the soft covers up to her chest. “Nope, not when they know they have to deal with me.” He glances over his shoulder at the wardrobe. “But how about tomorrow, we go to the knights training grounds and you bring your sword and shield. We can work on your swordsmanship so any monster knows to be just as afraid of you too.”

She grins, nodding eagerly. “Good idea!”

Her enthusiasm has him returning her grin and he leans down, running a large hand over the soft chestnut of her hair. “Alright then. Get some sleep so you’re ready for tomorrow.” She snuggles down into the warmth of her blankets, stifling a yawn even as she rolls over. “I love you, Papa.” He swallows for a moment at the lump of emotion that suddenly swells his throat. “I love you too. Princess. So much.”

Keith

Little feet whisper across dark green carpeting, continuing their journey to his side of the bed. “Papa,” she whispers, tugging on his covers, her stuffed deer dangling from her grip on its antlers. Keith inhales, his handsome face frowning in his sleep as her voice cuts through the fog of dreaming. But he doesn’t wake up yet. However, his daughter is nothing but insistent. She pats his upper arm, clearing her throat and speaking again, this time louder. “Papa. Wake up.”

His golden eyes open slowly and he blinks as he returns to the here and now. The sight of her, with her ashen blond hair and your intelligent eyes, has him sitting up in bed, the last misty tendrils of dreaming vanishing like fog in the sunlight.

“Yes, darling? What’s wrong? Is everything ok?”

She glances to your empty side of the bed. “I miss Mama.” Those words send his heart spinning, leaving a trail of ache inside his chest as he nods slowly. “I do too. But you remember how she had to go back to Rhodolite. I promise, she’ll be home again soon. Just a few more days.” He reaches for her hand, his thumb running soothingly over her knuckles, marveling at the tininess of her fingers, the softness of her skin. She speaks again, her voice compressed by sadness. “I still miss her.”

He sighs as she hangs her small head, curls covering her face. Then he has an idea. Slowly he gets out of bed and leads her by the hand across the room to the heavy glass doors of the balcony off of the bedroom, his favorite place in the palace to stargaze. Keeping a secure hold of her hand, he slides open one heavy glass door and then walks with her to the large brass telescope. “Take a look in there,” he murmurs, kneeling as he adjusts the eyepiece for her. He wraps one arm around her middle, holding her close. “Can you see it?”

She leans forward slightly. “It’s blurry.” Carefully he adjusts the focuser until he hears her breath catch. “Oh it’s so pretty!” She stares through the telescope in wonder at the bright star, brilliant in its silvery-blue light.

“That,” he says softly, almost dreamlike, “is your mother’s favorite star.” Gently he pulls her away from the telescope and points upwards. “You can see it without the telescope just there, see the three stars just in a row?” She nods emphatically. “It’s the one all the way to the right.” He pauses, resting his chin tenderly on her small shoulder. “When you miss Mama at night, like you do now, you can look up at the sky and find her favorite star. It may make you feel better.”

She turns around and wraps her arms around Keith’s neck, hugging him with all her might. “Thank you, Papa.” He hugs her close, this walking embodiment of his heart, and smiles.

Gilbert

He is already sitting up when his daughter approaches the bed, her stuffed tiger tucked under her arm. He heard the opening of the door and knew who it was immediately. No one else would ever dare to enter his bedroom in the middle of the night without fearing for their life.

“It’s past midnight, Mäuschen. Why are you wandering through the shadows?” His voice is a gentle that only you and those very close to Gilbert have ever heard. A genuine softness like the blanket of dusk as it falls over the land, the protective moon whispering as it cradles a favorite star. His daughter sighs, pushing away a stray lock of dark hair. “I’m hungry.”

He laughs quietly, his chin tilting down as he regards her. He speaks quietly, not wanting to wake you. You need rest after all, so close to the birth of your second child. He gets up, slipping on his black silk robe and then holds out his hand. She takes hold of it, wrapping her cool little fingers tightly around him and then pauses. “Wait a moment, Papa.” Turning back to the bed, she carefully places her stuffed tiger next to you where you sleep. “Watch out for Mama,” she orders sternly and doesn’t notice the bright gleam in Gilbert’s eyes as he smiles at her protective gesture. She turns, grabbing his hand and nods. “Ok Papa, fertig.” Ready.

He leads her out of the bedroom and a short walk down the hall to his office. Once inside, he walks over to his massive wooden desk, made of the finest dark walnut, and leans forward, turning on the desk lamp. He settles into his chair, into the crimson velvet cushioned seat and motions for her to join him. The Obsidian princess climbs into his lap, eyes bright as she looks at him expectantly. “Shh…this is our secret,” he murmurs, tapping his finger on the end of her nose. She grins slowly and nods. “Versprochen, Papa.” I promise. One arm holds her close as he leans down and opens a bottom drawer. Inside is a small round tin which he takes out and sets on his desk, next to the missives and parchments waiting for him come morning light.

“Go ahead,” he says encouragingly and she leans forward, carefully working the lid off with chubby fingers and then he feels her straighten up in excitement when its contents are revealed. She reaches in and pulls out a hearty oatmeal and raisin biscuit. The cookie is nearly at her lips when she pauses, thoughtfully. Shifting in his lap, she turns to face him and then holds it up. “Do you want a bite, Papa?” Her generosity has him smiling, a warmth like no other brightening his heart as he pretends to consider. “You don’t mind sharing?” She shakes her head, several loose, dark curls framing a face that is the youthful echo of yours. He leans forward and bites off a tiny corner, then leans back with a satisfied sigh. “Mama makes the best biscuits.”

She bites into the same cookie with much less restraint and then smiles, chewing happily. “Mm hm.” She leans back against his chest and he wraps his arms around her as she continues munching. “Just this one and then it's back to bed with you, little mouse.” She nods, mouth too full to answer and focus far too lost in the pleasure of her treat to respond verbally. Gilbert sighs, turning to rest his cheek against the top of her head. He is utterly and completely at peace.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381

For Leon content: @leonscape

For Gilbert and Leon: @ozalysss

For Keith: @drewadoodle-dandy

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yuurei20 · 2 months

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do you have references for the dorm head staffs?

like malleus' spinning wheel, leona's lion head...

i couldn't find full refs anywhere!

are they staffs inherited dorm head to dorm head? or are they just specific to each character

Hello hello, thank you for this question!

There are visual details provided for each Housewarden staff in the Magical Archives Game Guide! There is design-related information for some (i.e.: where the magestones are, how Savanaclaw's has two long feathers, two strips of fabric and two beaded strings, etc.) but not very much.

Diaomnia's has the most explanation behind it:

"(Malleus’) staff is based on the motifs of spinning thread and thorns. The idea is that, when it is used, magical thread runs through it and the gears turn. (This is really just an idea, I don't mean that that is what needs to happen!). I wanted (Malleus) to have a bulky staff that looks like it would be the most difficult one to handle, and this is what I came up with. It is just over 2.3m long...” - Twisted Wonderland Magical Archives Game Guide (2020)

Leona mentions wanting to remove the feathers from the Savanaclaw staff but not being allowed to do so. Perhaps they belong to the school and the housewardens are not allowed to alter them to suit themselves? (This is just conjecture! I have not been able to find any other references to the staffs in-game.)

According to Vil the housewardens are allowed to customize their dorm uniforms, but it seems that such freedoms might not apply to the staffs.

Concerning references: it is interesting that they never seem to appear in the in-game story, but this is possibly just a limitation of the visual-novel medium!

In the novels Riddle is described as having Heartslabyul's staff with him during both the first unbirthday party and his duel against Ace and Deuce, Leona wields Savanaclaw's staff in the scene where Jack, Riddle and the others confront him in Book 2, and Azul is carrying his cane when he meets Yuuya for the first time (also in Book 2).

Since Book 7 began the game has been making new advancements in animation with every new chapter, so maybe it is possible that we will see them with the sprites someday? :>

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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madeinparadis · 30 days

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SAFE | EREN JAEGER

pairing: eren jaeger × reader

cw: fluff and (mostly) angst, fear of loss/death, spoilers for the ending of the manga & anime ofc.

word count: 1.1k

masterlist: all characters

a/n: i was on the zaza (sleep deprived) while writing this, so the brief representation here of the paths is probably not the most accurate, especially given how the cabin scene in the anime & manga left some people confused. either way, hope you enjoy!

The birds chirped gleefully, flying over the roof of your cabin, their sound carrying the message that it was already morning– yet another day beginning and taking away your counted time with your lover, who lay serenely asleep beside you. You observed how the warm sunshine illuminated his face, casting a golden halo around his body that made him look angelic– it distracted you from the plans he would act out in the near future that were, in fact, the opposite of angelic. But pretending didn't hurt, and as long as you were here, you were safe.

You didn't understand the entire complexity and operation of the paths, but they were a very welcome escape for you. After all, if you were to live in reality on earth, Eren would be away from you, tormented and left alone to his own devices– instead, he built you both a home in the paths, which allowed you to run away from everything and just breathe, even if only momentarily.

As the sunlight passed between the curtains and hit his face directly, Eren slowly blinked his eyes open, looking at you.

“You should've slept some more. You seemed peaceful,” you asked, keeping a quiet tone.

“I was,” he replied, his gaze still melting into yours. “And if I got live like this by your side until my death, I'd live in peace.”

“Then don't go.”

“I don't want to go.”

“So stay.”

“You know I can't do that," he muttered. “I have to finish my plan.”

Your expression saddened as you listened to his words. You too knew he would have to leave you for his war, and you also knew you would be alone– all your comrades would go on with their lives, and you would be thinking back to the days when you lived in fear, but in love. It was a cruel reality, the one you lived in, and it was the price you paid for loving a man whose rage and determination made him a slave to freedom. You were, logically, more than aware of the fact that no matter how much Eren Jaeger loved you, he would never put a stop to his plan.

But you could always dream. Dream about a life where the titans never invaded your childhood home, or one where they didn't exist in the first place. In your dreamscape, you could both run off and get married, and Eren would build you a home even better than the one you had at the moment. You would live far away from the bustle in your hometown, somewhere in the countryside, where your days would be serene and quiet. Outside, you would gather the dry laundry with a big basket, watching your husband walk back home with a load of freshly chopped wood in his arms. Perhaps, inside your little cottage, you could find room for children of your own– a boy and a girl, much like Eren and Mikasa– they would each have different features from their parents, both in appearance and character. What would they be like? Would they be stubborn like their father, or curious like you? The possibilities were endless, and you cherished the thought of all of them. You could be a good mother, and you wanted nothing more than to be his wife someday. Maybe in another lifetime. In this one, all you could do was daydream as you mindlessly stared at the man lying next to you in bed.

You focused your eyes on Eren's hair, strands messy from the friction against your pillowcases. He looked serious today, and you moved your dominant hand up to softly card your fingers through his hair, continuing your observation of his features.

“I wish I could stop you from doing it,” you spoke up again.

“I know.” His gaze dropped down to your collarbones.

“It's unfair, you know. I should hate you for leaving me before we even got to live...” you stopped for a second, feeling a knot form in your throat. “But even if all of our friends are going to marry and build their own families while I visit your grave, I still can't hate you.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just wish things had worked out differently for us.”

“I do too. You know, when we were younger, I used to think that I would kill every titan, and then we would run away together afterwards.”

Eren's eyes met your own again, and you could sense an odd feeling of nostalgia linger in the air.

“We were so naïve back then.” You smiled, remembering your past days.

“At least now I can save all of you guys.”

You stayed in silence for a moment.

“But no one can save you.” Your hand slid down from his scalp to caress his cheek.

“You've already saved me,” he contested, placing his hand on top of yours, over his face.

“Not from death.” You felt tears well up in your eyes, threatening to fall.

“You can't stop me from dying.” He squeezed your hand slightly. “But you have stopped me from feeling like a dead man many times before.”

You reached your limit of stoicism, and what was a threat became a reality– Your eyes turned glossy and red as tears spilled out of them and fell on Eren's thumb, which brushed under your eyes and gathered your waterworks tenderly.

“What am I going to do without you?”

“Live your life freely.”

“I don't want freedom, I want you,” you choked out between sobs.

“You'll have me for as long as we're here.”

You curled up against him, letting him run his hands through your hair while your tears dried up. Despite it all, you were still with Eren, and he wasn't going to leave you just yet– so you enjoyed his presence while it lasted, listening to his heartbeat and engraving its sound and rhythm into your brain, in hopes that you would never forget it.

The two of you basked in the morning sunlight, and lay in bed curled up together until seconds turned into minutes, and you ended up losing track of time. Not very long after your tears dried, however, you tugged at Eren's shirt, gently guiding his face until his lips collided with yours, crashing like waves in a low tide– slow but impactful. Backing out to breathe, you let your fingertips ghost over his cheekbones, drinking in the sight before you like a relic, praying that all the memories you stored would stay with you for eternity.

Eren was right. You couldn't save him, and he could not stay with you forever. But as long as you were here, in your little cabin, he would be yours, and the two of you could be happy– away from the real world and the harsh truths that awaited you. It didn't hurt to play pretend. For now, you were safe.

#madeinparadis #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren x you #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot oneshots #snk x reader #mikasa ackerman #aot #snk #angst

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skyc47su · 4 months

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A Silhouette in the Hidden Forest

It's dangerous to be here if you're not careful.

Is what he should've said, but now Minos seems like he's threatening you. He's not, he just worded it badly :'D

There's just something spooky with Sky children standing in the darkness, and their eyes and heart gem glowing in contrast.

I've always wanted to make something animated, mostly because as a child I've wanted to be an animator or a cartoonist. I may not achieve that dream, but during christmas I was suddenly hit with the "I need to try doing this!" and this is the result of my experimentation since then to new year's. I also appreciate animators more now, especially those that make their work fluid. Imagine having this as a job, my wrist is already aching for a mere few choppy seconds of animation!

There are flaws, I will admit. But I am rather proud of myself. Perhaps I'll make more someday, who knows? :D

"Minos" Lumino Tsar is my Sky child OC from Sky: Children of the Light. He's not mean, promise. Just socially awkward. Some WIPs while I practiced on this

#skyblr #skycotl #thatskygame #sky children fanart #sky children of the light #moof art

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ponyartistbrainiac · 8 months

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I know this won't mean much to y'all but after over 10 years of trial and error and practice and experiments my art has finally gotten to the place I wanted it to be since I was a small girl. I always wanted to make beautiful emotional pieces that i pour my heart and soul into that showed my passion with every stroke and despite being mostly blind I made it.

These pictures gain very little traction and get virtually no notice at all but despite it all I pour hours upon hours of blood sweat and tears to make pieces I can be proud of.

And even though no one understands me or my work (outside of my boyfriend who is the amazing light of my life I can't seem to stop myself from making them from time to time marking occassions only I understand but I always wish people would enjoy the art anyways for what it is.

Perhaps one day people will appreciate my work. Perhaps I will just be a blip in history that no one remembers or maybe some sort of cautionary tale about being autistic and having a passion that burns hotter then anyone can handle. Either way I am proud of how far I have come. Being mostly blind and autistic no one ever believed in me but maybe thats what fueled my urge to want to prove my worth to everyone by showing them how powerful my imagination truly is.

Even if it scares them...

Im not sure why I am writing this tbh my grandfather just died and I have been thinking about my life up until now quite alot this week. Where do I go from here? What do I do now?

My friends are all moving to live around me and its wonderful and crazy and everything is happening so fast. But I wish to push myself even further beyond.

Maybe someday i can make something that everyone can appreciate or atleast my peers. But for now perhaps I should look into new horizons perhaps maybe practice more on my aliens that I love to draw thanks to Outer wilds or maybe work on my animation skills so I can make moving pictures no one understands.

Anyways thanks for sticking around through everything if you have been here a while. The internets on fire and I am doing my best and if you are new... Hi I'm Pepper and I am glad you are here.

And thank you for everything

I started making these paintings after recovering from covid which I honestly thought was the end

I was so over joyed with being alive i painted that first painting of derpy and rarity and I have been chasing that level of zen... that high... ever since and I can finally recreate it consistently. Thank goodness

I was worried it was lightning in a bottle for a while...

Never give up!

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unbidden-yidden · 8 months

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Hey fellow yidden: some motivation for you this Elul

So maybe this year you've done some backsliding on some mitzvot. So maybe you haven't davened as much as you would like. Maybe you missed opportunities to go to things in community because you just couldn't motivate yourself. Or perhaps there were things that you struggled to do individually.

Perhaps the reason that you missed opportunities for mitzvot is because you were afraid of missing out on something else.

Well, as a traditional egalitarian Jew who tries but has ADHD, depression, lots of executive dysfunction, a demanding job, relationships to maintain, and 900 hobbies, I feel you.

But fear not! I have two suggestions for ways to help you seek out mitzvot in every area of your life.

Suggestion the first: Weaponize the FOMO

At least for me, I'm always worried that if I daven as much as I would like to (as one example) I am going to miss out on [x] other thing. However, instead, sit yourself down and consider what one mitzvah you want to prioritize. Then, imagine never being able to do it again.

My friend, that day will come.

Mitzvot are for the living. A Jew being buried in their tallit has the tzitzit trimmed off first. Why? Because mitzvot are the project of the living and all we can know for sure about death is that it will come for all of us, eventually. If you believe in an afterlife, your deeds - good or bad - will accompany your soul on your way home. And you will be comforted and bask in the mitzvot you performed. And if you don't believe in an afterlife? Well, this is your one shot, and whatever deeds you leave behind is all that will be left of you someday.

Better wear those tzitzit now, then.

Suggestion the second:

Look for the kedusha in literally everything.

One of the truly amazing things about Judaism is that every moment, no matter how mundane, is full of opportunities to engage in mitzvot. Whether it's saying Asher Yatzar after using the restroom, washing your hands before meals, saying brachot before eating food, wearing certain clothing (tzniut, no shatnez, ritually significant like a kippah, etc.), being kind to animals (even insects), honoring your parents, visiting a sick or recovering friend, compromising with your spouse for shalom bayit, giving money to the poor, or simply reaching out to a friend who might be sad, lonely, and struggling - there are daily opportunities to connect and to infuse every moment of your life with holiness.

Judaism is so much about how we treat each other, our world, our bodies, and our communities, and these in turn are what help us to understand how to treat our souls and our relationship to the Divine. Judaism is about relationships. And the opportunities don't require you to go to shul, or don tefillin, wait for the high holidays, or give extravagantly. (Although those things are great if you want to do them, too!)

By design, the mitzvot are meant to allow you to connect with Judaism, with yourself, your world, and Hashem at every turn, simply by living your life. It's honestly a very old form of mindfulness, long before that was a buzzword.

So, weaponize that FOMO in one breath, knowing this is the only life we have, and in the next breath, really open your eyes to the opportunities that already surround you in every facet of your life. They are there if you look, and you will never miss out if you keep on looking.

#elul #elulposting #jumblr #every hour is theology hour around here apparently

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doodlemancy · 2 months

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uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhh

so here's the deal re: this fucking horseshit. god i hate this.

i, personally, have mostly given up on trying to dodge inclusion in AI datasets. the stuff i make generally isn't what they're looking for anyway and there's no real way to 100% avoid being scraped short of becoming entirely invisible online, which would um, lead to me having no money and dying. that's part of the cruelty of all this, but also, in a way, it's the same risk artists online have always taken; if you want people to see your work, you have to post it knowing that some of those people are fucking lowlife piece of shit scumbags who will try to resell it on redbubble or something for a quick buck. AI is just a new and exhausting way for garbagey people to stink worse. i am not in any way excusing that behavior or trying to imply people should not be mad about it or that we shouldn't condemn this move and fight back. "if you don't want your work stolen, don't put it online" is the kind of shitty Internet Tough Guy talk i've always hated since my dA days. it's as useless and heartless as telling people that if they don't want their bikes stolen, they shouldn't leave them at the bike rack. i'm saying that i, personally, will not let a bunch of soulless thieving shitheads drive me offline. i belong here. they belong in a wifi-proof dumpster.

nightshade and glaze eat my artwork alive. they make it look terrible. when you have to sell things on the basis that they look nice, it's a big problem when protective measures make them look like dogshit. my work is not a good candidate for these processes. even if that weren't the case, i don't have the stamina, especially right now while my chronic pain is flaring for the third month in a row and my adhd meds are scarce, to go back and shade/glaze everything, and it wouldn't work on reblogs anyway. given the way midjourney and its equally stinky siblings have already scraped years and terabytes' worth of image data from popular websites, it doesn't seem worth my time. if you think it is worth yours i am not going to like, yell at you. i am just one person. but i want to be clear about the kind of situations some of us are being forced into.

i think some of the doomsaying about AI and what it will do to us has been overblown-- they need you, for marketing purposes, to believe that someday their shitty robot will be as good at "drawing" and as practical to work with as a human-- but the consequences of "AI" (which is not even actually AI) are already real and visible and obvious to anyone paying attention. i unfortunately am not infinitely wise and powerful and therefore do not have an ideal all-encompassing solution to this deeply stupid problem that the Most Unlikeable Manbabies On Earth have imposed on us after NFTs fizzled out.

what i do have is a very large repository of nice anime and game screenshots i've taken, knowledge of many archives of nice public domain images, a computer that can run nightshade overnight or while i'm off doing other things, and, most importantly, near-infinite capacity for pettiness. i do kinda feel like the jury is still out on how well nightshade/glaze will work in the long run, but in the meantime, i suppose it wouldn't cost me a lot to... perhaps... every time i get Mad About AI™, channel that anger into dumping some thoroughly-but-not-spammily-tagged, high-quality, inconspicuous poison onto this godforsaken hellsite via a secret side blog. i could make a batch of poison ahead of time, keep it on my phone, use my Toilet Scrolling Time or my Public Transit Time to post and tag up an image here and there. it could be a fun challenge to try to make some pretty robot poison that some humans will still enjoy.

the other thing we need to poison at this point, IMO, is the word "AI" itself, by being loudly and mercilessly critical of any company that dabbles in it, the same way we all clowned on any company that pushed their luck with NFT/crypto shit a couple of years ago. we need to have every corporation terrified that association with AI will tank their sales and hurt their brand. AI must = number go down and lots of people screaming at you. companies will fuck around. we must provide the finding-out. we shouldn't have to. but we can!

so make sure to let tumblr know you hate this. maybe you could include this interesting link (tw child abuse) about how Stable Diffusion was trained on some extremely serious crime. or these screenshots of Midjourney devs just sort of admitting what their whole thing is, which i got here but which have kinda been spread all over since January.

spite and anger can be forms of hope. that's all i have to say, or at least all i'm willing to type with my left hand tonight.

#long post #big long sigh

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yume-yuurei · 6 months

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Picture-perfect fairytale romance 1/3

Synopsis: Fairytales help tell children of all sides of human life without exposing them to real dangers. But what will happen if a child keeps their favorite story far too close to heart, projecting fantasies onto reality?

TW for mildly delusional Neige (only hints of it in this part), kinda ooc, MC only gets called 'knight' one time with no real descriptions, so you could say they're gn, barely proof read. I'm going to write two more parts later, as I cannot allow myself to write a story without at least attempting to look at it from all possible angles. :P

"...Trees parted before the brave knight, bowing in respect and opening the path ahead. Soon he came to a clearing in the woods.

Among the flowerbeds and tall grass laid a cloud of white and pink sateen. Upon coming closer, the knight realized that it was a person! A beautiful young woman with a face fresh like first snow. Her locks gently framed her face, bringing out its soft shape. The lady's lips, red like old wine, were barely open. Beads of tears sat on her lashes, glistening like morning dew. As if enchanted, the knight kneeled over the sleeping beauty, reaching out a hand to touch her and make sure what he was seeing was no dream.

No matter what, the woman wouldn't wake up, lost in her slumber - or perhaps a heavy spell cast on her. Concerned animals peered at the man from behind the bushes, hopeful at the thought he'd finally awaken the princess. The hero kneeled at her side, brushing a stray strand of hair aside to take a proper look on her face. Then, slowly and carefully, he leaved closer, connecting their lips in a kiss....

The spell fell, and the beauty's eyes opened once again..."

Stories like this one are a classic. A princess, a knight and a kiss of true love. What happens after is always the same. Every child has heard at least one of such tales, many have and still do dream to live out a magical story like that.

"...And they lived happily ever after."

Forever and ever, even after eternity.

A woman in her twenties sat on the bed of a small boy. Resemblance between them was clear as day - hair dark like wood, skin white as snow, lips red as fresh blood. The woman shut the book in her hands and placed it on a nightstand. She leaned down to place a kiss on top of her son's forehead. The boy giggled, rubbing his face with a chubby hand to wipe away a lipstick stain.

"Now, dear, it's time to sleep."

With a light motion, she tucked the blanket in at his sides to keep him warm at night. Beady-eyed plush animals and soft frilly pillows surrounded him. With a final fond gaze, the woman snuffed out all lights, disappearing after turning a corner.

The boy clutched his blanket, turning on a side to look into the open window. Darkness enveloped the night sky; only stars, usually outshone by the great Sun, dared to come out and hold their post, spilling light on all that's hiding in the dark. They stay high up to bear witness to all wishes shared with them at late hours, hearing out desperate calls of hopeful hearts. And that night, the stars heeded a young soul's wish.

"Maybe... Someday My Princess Will Come?"

Ringing of school bells was resonating through the entire building. Students flooded from classrooms, crowding in halls, desperate to escape classes as soon as they could. The commotion they were causing could be heard from outside, some students rushing to Mirror Hall, some staying back to turn in their assignments, attend clubs or hang out with friends. You could see all of that through the windows

Rook promised to meet you near front gates to escort you to the gardens. He was assigned as your personal alchemy tutor by Professor Crewel. As eccentric as this particular junior seemed, his vast knowledge was deserving of recognition - as expected of a vice-leader of Pomefiore, a dorm specializing in potionology, and his strictness regarding practical assignments could rival even that of the Professor himself. So, a perfect solution for a poor magicless student that has never had anything to do with magical herbs. Originally, both you and Grim had had to attend tutoring sessions, but the latter turned tail at the last moment, and even if he were to be brought back forcefully, he'd be more of a distraction than anything else. That's where it leaves you - in front of the gates, glancing at your phone every few seconds in doubt and growing disbelief. Rook was running late.

The hunter told you specifically to wait for him after seventh lesson as it was supposed to be the last in his schedule, so where is he? Could he have been held back by his dormleader to discuss important matters, or stolen by co-members of science club that were in need of advice and assistance, or perhaps even lost in a pursue of a curious non-human student he wanted to observe before they escape his sights?

As if there was nothing on your to-do list for today, other than loitering around, waiting for him. It's hard to suppress a sigh. You took the waiting time as an opportunity to look around.

And there was a reason to it. With how wild Night Raven is, it had been near impossible to take a breather (or was it just your luck?) and enjoy something as simple as fresh air. A shame it is - there is so much to see in Twisted Wonderland. Try and find a single fairy, dragon or fire-breathing flower on Earth; but there, nothing of such is a novelty. To think about it, ever since arriving to NRC, you haven't spared a thought to how this world works: Where does magic even come from, and how exactly does it work? Why don't mages try and reuse accumulated blot, like humans in your world do to wastes? How did they manage to advance in technology when they seem to rely so heavily on their magical abilities? Do beastmen and merfolk actually have any biological relation to humans or-

Rustling of leaves took your mind away from daydreaming. For a second you expected Rook to emerge from the bushes, or maybe even from the top of a tree, picking a stray leave out of his hair and greeting you in his own special manner, but what appeared before your eyes did not resemble the hunter in the slightest. In his stead before you stood a... deer? Doe-eyed, absent-minded creature on four long trembling legs - undoubtedly a deer, but what would it be doing on school grounds?

The dreamy animal seemed to pay no mind to your presence, taking a step out of the forest and heading down the main street. It sniffed around, possibly looking for something or just lost, before averting its attention to a small shiny object lying in the grass. The deer picked it up it its teeth after a few awkward attempts and turned back to where it had come from, steps hurried and unsure.

The prefect has seen things. They have seen creatures of many magical kinds, most curious of artifacts and wildest of spectacles. They've been through it all. But suddenly, what they found to be fascinating is a regular deer, same as any other one inhabitating the Earth, carrying a little treasure - most likely a trinket lost by a careless student - into the forest. And as they always did, they decided to follow their heart's impulsive call in favor of satiating their curiosity, stalking after the animal carefully, as not to alert it, - tutoring session be damned.

Trail had turned many times, but eventually you noticed a clearing from afar. As if a picture taken straight from a fairytale book, the area was enveloped in light and surrounded by tall trees, serving as a barrier between that piece of paradise and the outside world. Blankets of grass were laid upon the ground, so each of your steps was silenced - nothing could disturb peace there. It almost seemed like time had been frozen. And among all the beauty of nature sat a figure. Flowers bloomed brighter, grass felt softer, predating animals were peaceful and pliant - all in their presence. If not for the most vigilant of them, sensing your smell ever since you passed the barrier, you would've stopped to admire the sight; alas, after receiving a message from one of their little friends, the figure turned around, catching you approaching them.

Their beauty took your breath away.

The first thing - person - your mind brought up is Snow White from the old children's tale. What uncanny resemblance. Cherry-red lips, contrasting unbelievably pale complexion, shiny ink-black hair, and obvious innocence oozing off of every fiber of their being. His being.

"Ah... hello?"

Staying silent would be awkward... and weird. He probably had come here to escape from noisy school grounds and find a sliver of peace and privacy, but here you were, disturbing the angelic boy, having uncovered his secret place, and-

"Hello! What brought you here? Have you perhaps gotten lost?", his smile is something made high above, as that's the only reasoning you could give to the sudden calm that overtook you when you saw it.

"No, not exactly. I just noticed a-", you noticed the oh-so-familiar deer nudge the boy before you with its head, dropping the stolen shiny item off onto the ground near him, "that one deer! It stole something from the school grounds; a student must've lost it, so... as a prefect, I wanted to...", his eyes brightened up upon inspecting the trinket - it turned out to be a keychain - with such child-like wonder, "...as I prefect, I wanted to make sure it got back to the owner, but if you like it, I guess it can't be helped! Doubt I would've been able to find who it belongs to anyways, so...haha.."

"How could I! I am sure this accessory must be precious to its owner, I cannot take it for myself.", in one graceful motion, the stranger got up to his feet and approached you, holding the keychain in both palms, as if offering a fragile and expensive gem, "It's so nice of you to take initiative and go all the way here to retrieve this. Please, bring it back safely, I hope it'll make the person who lost this happier."

He was saying all that like he was entrusting you a task of ultimate importance, and with such a serious expression, too...

"Yeah, sure, I will..", you received the item from him, accidentally brushing fingers against his skin - soft, so soft and gentle... A flash of light blinked in the corner of your eye, but died down as soon as it appeared.

"By the way," it was only at that moment that his uniform catched your attention, "Aren't you a Royal Swords Academy student? What are you doing so far away, especially near Night Raven?"

"Oh, you noticed.. To put it simple, I enjoy taking walks around there. It-", he stumbled over words, first time in the last few minutes, "I got bored of sights near my school, and decided to find someplace different. Surely, I'm not bothering anyone nearby?"

Avoiding questions now? "You're not, don't worry, I was just curious, never seen you around there. Care for introductions?"

"...are you saying you don't know me?", the boy inquired with cleat disbelief in voice.

"If I knew you, would I be asking for your name?"

Still unsure, he shook his head gently, clutching at his vest. "You wouldn't... So you really haven't seen anything?", his tone changes suddenly, "That's fine, more than! My name is Neige, pleased to meet you."

You took the hand he offered for a handshake and gave Neige your own name. Wind picked up a notch, kicking up fallen leaves and dust and blowing right in your face; while you were blinked profusely, the boy still looked like he came out of a magazine cover, if not better than before.

Soon you both went your separate ways, the sparkly keychain clinking in your blazer pocket. Trying to retrace your steps back to Night Raven must be bothersome, but not impossible - you'll be back before dusk.

So thought Neige, staying back behind a tree to have one more chance to look at you. So kind, so simple - knightly, even! So eager to help out a schoolmate in need. And here he thought Gran had been right about NRC students being crude. Or was there a mistake, and you had been sent to a wrong place?

"They would fit in with us well... Dominic would surely like them."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #neige leblanche #twst neige #neige x reader #hnggg i hope this piece look good `(*>﹏<*)′#i've been mulling over this scenario for so long unable to put my thoughts into words!#so frustrating...#yandere

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