Sen-Hime

Sedra’s (Seddie) birth parents are unknown as she was left at a temple

One chantress took a liking to her do to her eyes (they look like they belong to the moon god), and she was taken in as her own

Most of her early years were spent helping the women of the temple prepare the dead for their final resting place and singing songs

The others barely spoke to her, but she felt okay as along as the chantress that took her in was near

This shaped a lot of her views on life and is why she lives a life she feels will not allow for regrets

When she first saw Tiziri, she was spying on what this mysterious woman could possibly be doing at their temple

She was shocked when the chantress asked Tiziri if she would take her (Sedra) with her as the temple wasn’t a place for a child

So she ran away

It took a week for Tiziri to locate her and she tried struggling with the woman, even biting her. But Tiziri didn’t say anything other than she needed to go back to the temple now and talk to the chantress properly

Back at the temple, she learned that her pseudo mother was actually dying and that’s why she reached out to her old acquaintance (Tiziri) to give Sedra a proper home as the other priestesses and chantresses would not allow her to stay

She begged her not to make her leave her to die alone and she was allowed to given Tiziri wasn’t in a rush

After the funeral, Sedra was silently loaded into a cart full of girls. The pinkish haired girl that looked about the same age as her offered her some bread and Sedra cried silently

The girl, Yasra, kept talking the whole ride annoying her to no end and talked her into a much needed rest

When she woke up, Yasra was there sleeping on her lap

With every stop they made, Sedra learned more about this peculiar family and that all the girls (like herself) were being taken care of my Tiziri and her husband

That there was a missing daughter and that’s why Tiziri traveled all over the place and offered girls who needed a home a home

Every once in a while, a girl was reunited with their families during their travels and Sedra could see the flickering of joy and grief in Tiziri’s eyes

she tried to shrink herself, Yasra kept including her

Yasra insisted that she must have been born under a lucky star to have been a chosen daughter of two women

Eventually she learned some of their dance and learned to laugh again seeing their terrible attempts at dances from her homeland

She began bonding with the others, but her bond with Yasra was the strongest

The girls really enjoyed hearing her sing and she loved having so many sisters around that wanted her be there

She never felt pressured to call Tiziri mama or to dance, these things just came naturally over time

She can be melancholic at times when she’s alone, however she keeps a smile on her face most days

Knows a lot about mythologies, deities, and gods— as such, the mention of the vile Jashin makes her skill crawl

She wears off white robes almost exclusively as a force of habit from her temple days

Is a fixer and a mischief maker. It just depends on the day

She learned about her eyes in travels, something called a byakugan. A lot of things made sense after finding this out, but she’s also certain she does not want to meet people from that clan

Loves sleeping in but her younger sisters have a habit of running all over screaming and playing (she’s woken up with braids and a goat trying to chew her hair thanks to them)

Kharob is her absolute favorite drink

Unofficial translator

Sasuke Uchiha [Naruto] by TsuyaNoUchi

NARUTO今まで描いたものの中から10枚～

July 22nd: breakfasted on a lovely array of fresh strawberries and goat’s cheese with honey, oat cakes and barley porridge. For luncheon we feasted on a catch of smoked trout, vegetable stew, and of course a couple of flagons of October Ale

the city of los angeles

the city of new york

sex

how drinking alcohol works

how getting high works

how a child of any age speaks

how nuclear physics work

how [my job] works

how debilitating being shot in the shoulder is

how hypothermia works

things I have never before seen someone fake their way through writing about, until today:

❤️‍🩹

The secret fear of the morally depraved is that virtue is actually common, and that they’re the ones who are alone. In Minnesota, all of the ideological cornerstones of MAGA have been proved false at once. Minnesotans, not the armed thugs of ICE and the Border Patrol, are brave. Minnesotans have shown that their community is socially cohesive—because of its diversity and not in spite of it. Minnesotans have found and loved one another in a world atomized by social media, where empty men have tried to fill their lonely soul with lies about their own inherent superiority. Minnesotans have preserved everything worthwhile about “Western civilization,” while armed brutes try to tear it down by force.

One of those latecomers was was a 46-year-old documentary filmmaker named Chad Knutson. On the morning after Good was killed, he was at home with one of his two hound dogs, watching a live feed from from the Whipple Building, where ICE is based, a five-minute drive from his house. A protestor had laid a rose on a makeshift memorial to Good. As Knutson watched, an ICE agent took the rose, put it in his lapel, and then mockingly gave it to a female ICE agent. They both laughed. Knutson told me he'd never been a protestor. It seemed pointless, or just a way for people to expiate their guilt. But when he saw those ICE agents laughing, something broke inside him. "I grab my keys, I grab a coat, and drive over," Knutson told me. "I barely park my care and I'm running out screaming and crying, 'You stoke a fucking flower from a dead woman. Are any of you human anymore?'"

If the Minnesota resistance has an overarching ideology, you could call it “neighborism”—a commitment to protecting the people around you, no matter who they are or where they came from. The contrast with the philosophy guiding the Trump administration couldn’t be more extreme. Vice President Vance has said that “it is totally reasonable and acceptable for American citizens to look at their next-door neighbors and say, ‘I want to live next to people who I have something in common with. I don’t want to live next to four families of strangers.’” Minnesotans are insisting that their neighbors are their neighbors whether they were born in Minneapolis or Mogadishu. That is, arguably, a deeply Christian philosophy, one apparently loathed by some of the most powerful Christians in America. No matter how many more armed men Trump sends to impose his will on the people of Minnesota, all he can do is accentuate their valor. No application of armed violence can make the men with guns as heroic as the people who choose to stand in their path with empty hands in defense of their neighbors. These agents, and the president who sent them, are no one’s heroes, no one’s saviors—just men with guns who have to hide their faces to shoot a mom in the face, and a nurse in the back.

What the actual fuck? What world is he living in, where you get to pick who your neighbors are? That is just...not a thing. I mean, I get the dogwhistle--and redlining and restrictive covenants were a thing--but what he is saying has never been true in the literal sense that you get a say in who can move in next to you.

no one says you have to like every fic. no one says you can’t find a fic ‘terribly written’. but if at any point you find yourself not liking what you read, instead of being a dick about other people’s harmless hobbies that they do for themselves and you got to read for free, you could have just clicked the back button and looked for something else to read. or, better yet, you could’ve started writing what you wanted to read yourself.

this normalization of openly mocking other people’s fics — especially now with the raise of ai, bots harassing/trying to scam writers and the lack of positive engagement writers get — is why writers are wary about sharing their works with you. writers are kind enough to share with you what they wrote for free. you can just not read it if it’s not your cup of tea. but if you keep this mean girl bully energy up by screenshotting their works to mock and shame them, eventually there will be no fics for you to read, eventually there will be no fan contents for you to enjoy.

this Puerto Rican ass mouse

assume that I’m dead.