Home to characters primarily from Honkai: Star Rail, Genshin Impact, and Wuthering Waves. The depictions you'll find here are as canon-strict as possible, and so you can expect analyses in abundance, as dissecting the intricacies of characters is what I'm here for.
Navigation: Rules / Prompts / Resources: New / Old
Muses (unlinked muses mean they're 'pending')
Honkai: Kafka, Ruan Mei, Aglaea, Yao Guang, Jing Yuan, Aventurine
Genshin Impact: Yelan, Arlecchino, Nefer, Yae Miko, Zhongli, Wriothesley
Other: Changli (Wuthering Waves), Jane Doe (Zenless Zone Zero), Von Lycaon (Zenless Zone Zero)
Full muse list here which includes the unlisted muses.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
that kafka post was the best food for breakfast this morning. you've been missed sae - welcome back!
You're very sweet, thank you. I'm not fully back yet (very soon, though), I didn't write all of that yesterday, it's been a 'WIP' for an age and a half, but gosh, sanity knows it felt good to finally share it, as imperfect and incomplete as it was. But in a way, I also love it the way it is— very much a 'think for yourself when you're reminded of these things, and see where you end up' type of thing. I just think she's a magnificent character in so many ways, and there may be something so uniquely created for her on the horizon, but I never see anyone talk about it. I always see attention drawn to the same things, which is fine, but I wanted to try and shed light on why she drives me so insane— so I hope that I managed it, even 10% would make me happy. She's one of my top favorite muses for a reason. Thank you, 'non, thank you for having waited, or rather, stuck around apparently! It means a lot.
Boyfriend has prepared everything for me and the cats' arrival on Thursday morning (taking the night ferry that's leaving tomorrow at 10PM Greek time) in his place where we'll stay for potentially only a few days if the apartment that I just secured the viewing for on the same day as my arrival is exactly as we hope it to be. An unfurnished place (we have enough things between us), an actual plan of growing roots? I'm looking forward to no longer living from paycheck to paycheck, being able to breathe financially, and finally being able to set up a proper financial plan. My god, it's all in sight. Cross your fingers for us, that that apartment is perfect as it looks on the pictures. Chania will be home, guys, the most beautiful Chania in Crete. Also yes, I see those White Mountains every time we walk to the grocery store, even if I don't live in the city of Chania itself, the view remains even from Daratsos which is nearby, and honestly: a perfect location.
Have I said yet that moving to Greece was the best decision I've ever made in life? Because it has been. If you're ever facing a 'should I, should I not' situation— guys, being afraid is the worst thing in life. Trust yourself, because you really can, you'll learn things about yourself that you might never come to know otherwise.
Let's talk Kafka. Because in case people think that I've been silent behind the scenes and that I'm never thinking about my muses— I think with all of the talk on X of leaks about a potential SP for Kafka in the nearing future because Finality and whatnot— I should share a more "cohesive" version of an old post of mine that's been sitting in my OneNote for years now, which talks of Kafka and 'fate' and what she may, or may not be. In other words, it's the topic of topics for me when it comes to her. It's lengthy, it's still messy, and so it's very much the ramblings of a crazy woman (me, I'm the crazy woman), and it may not even say as much as you may hope, but they are my thoughts. And since Kafka is one of my absolute dearest along with Yelan, I thought maybe now would be the time to share this. I applaud you if you read through this, you obviously don't have to. But if you want a glimpse into me, and my thoughts, I welcome you to the essay of essays. I've rewritten this, added to it, then removed from it— and it remains as messy as it's ever been. But, it's her.
So, Kafka, to me, is one of those characters where if you look at her for too short a moment, you will miss her almost entirely. And that's, quite frankly, rather fitting. Perhaps it's fitting for a woman that's so deeply entangled with fate, with an element of performance, with presence and its residue, that she would be the sort of character who's easiest to misread when taken only at surface value. Because that's the thing with Kafka: I don’t think she's nearly as straightforward as people may wish to make her, but I also don't think that she's straightforward in the way that the fandom assumes she is. She isn't, in my opinion, a woman whose every word is a lie, nor a figure meant to be seen only through a shallow language of seduction, danger, and spectacle. Quite the opposite, actually. I think MiHoYo has written something vastly more intricate into her, and what drives me quietly (or not so quietly) insane is that so much of it may have been staring us in the face all along.
What the writing returns to, over and over, and over again, isn't merely mystery. It's a specific kind of tension: fate and choice, inevitability and agency, surface-value and truth, distance and warmth, longing and restraint. Kafka's surrounded by the rhetoric of destiny perhaps more than any other character in the game, or at the very least in a way that feels unusually intimate. Not fate as some "cold philosophical abstract thing" spoken into existence, but fate as something actually embodied, almost tactile, physical; it has faces. It chooses what face to wear. It stands before you, it speaks through timing, through glances, through language that so far too specific to just be... 'decorum' in dialogue/monologue. And the more I look at her, the more I feel that Kafka isn't simply orbiting this theme because she happens to work under Elio. No, that would be way too simple. Instead, she feels like someone woven into the very texture of it, that goes beyond her role in the SH.
That's why lines such as: 'Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?' (x) refuse to leave me alone. There's simply too much happening in a line like that for it to be reduced to something stylistic. Faces, choice, wearing, presentation, selection, mask and essence all put into one sentence, and then spoken by a woman whose entire existence seems built around performance, concealment, and the careful management of what is and isn't shown. It begs the question of whether Kafka is merely speaking about fate, or whether she, herself, is one of the story’s most deliberate embodiments of it. And I don’t mean that in a crude, literal, theoretical sense of needing an immediate supernatural reveal to validate the instinct. I mean that the text itself appears increasingly unwilling to let her remain only 'the woman who works for the one who sees the future.' It keeps pressing farther than that, it keeps giving her language, symbolism, and framing that feel too intimate with destiny to be accidental (also, little simple note in the midst of it all: Spirit Whisper literally can influence and 'enforce' fate to an extent).
And yet (and this is where she becomes truly unbearable to me in the best possible way), Kafka isn't written like some simple fatalist.
Because alongside all of this language of inevitability, of scripts, of futures, of what is to come and what must be, there is the fact that she remains one of the clearest voices in the story on the significance of choice. That isn't a minor detail, again, that's not a stylistic choice. 'When you have the chance to make a choice, make one that you know you won’t regret.' That line alone is enough to crack open the flatter readings of her if one allows it to smack you in the face. A woman so immersed in fate does not, should not, speak of choice that way if choice is something meaningless to her. And then the companion mission only deepens the fracture further, because there, too, the issue isn't settled in favor of some dull predestination. Quite the opposite, Kafka, whose life is bound to a script, is also the woman who explicitly complicates any simplistic understanding of destiny as fixed and deadened. (!!!!!)
That contrast isn't something that I think needs to be explained away. I think that it's one of the most fundamental truths of her character. She doesn't read like someone who believes that because outcomes come together, that human choice ceases to matter. She more so reads like someone who understands something much crueler and much more beautiful: that choice still matters because of constraint. That agency doesn't become an irrelevant thing simply because it exists within a certain structure. If anything, it becomes heavier there, something of more significance, something more... costly, if you will. It's easy to speak of choice when nothing binds you, but it's so much more meaningful to insist on it when you live in the shadow of inevitability.
And maybe that's part of why I can't stand when she's flattened into something tied to deception alone, or into fandom’s endless appetite for making her some broad, and easy creature that manipulates or is violent. Because to do that is to ignore how often Kafka’s writing seems to dare us to take her more directly than we actually do. I think there is a difference, and a vast one, between a woman who performs and a woman who lies, there's a difference between theatricality and falsehood, there's a difference between controlling the 'narrative' and falsifying the truth. And she, to me, so often seems to occupy that exact painful space where she tells the truth in such a stylized type of register that others decide not to hear it as truth at all. Even if the truth may be right there.
Which is why the matter of surface becomes so incredibly important with her. God, the altered voice, that concealed depth of her true register. That stupid likelihood, or at least the impression of it, that there's more hidden in her eyes than we are allowed to grasp cleanly, the way her composure is so thoroughly complete that people take it for emotional emptiness, when in fact I think MiHoYo has been feeding the exact opposite through every careful, and tiny little fracture in the performance. Kafka's one of those characters where warmth exists, but it's so annoyingly selective. But when it occurs, it's so deep, it's almost painful. It's as if it's something rare enough to matter, and that rarity is so crucial, because it means that those moments can't be dismissed. They're not accidents, or unintended things, I think they're revelations, they have to be.
That's also why the contrast between her violence and her moral language matters so much to me. She kills with such ease, yes, those guns create a kind of emotional distance all on their own, due to the physical separation. And yet, beside them stands this other thing, the katana: and it's such an intimate weapon, it's so precise, it's even ritualistic, almost old-world in that symbolic weight that it carries. The juxtaposition is far too rich to ignore? And in that vein, so is the fact that she can speak of fragility, of morality, of what should guide a person, without the writing treating those lines as hollow at all. If she were only meant to be cool, ruthless, and this untouchable woman, I don't believe that the writers would keep giving her such language. Nor would they continue to draw her so close to questions of value, cost, and human limitation. That they do, tells me that her distance isn't something tied to emptiness. It's perspective, it's estrangement, even perhaps. It's restraint, certainly, but it definitely isn't absence.
And then we come, of course, to the part of Kafka that I think the fandom most often refuses to sit with long enough: her humanity, not in spite of all this, but woven through it. It's right there. It's right there. It's right there in her curiosity, her fascination, and yes, even her boredom that stands perfectly opposite it. But ugh, the way beauty catches her, the way significance catches her, the way she seems drawn toward that which still has the power to pierce through the veil of familiarity and make her linger. This is why the spider alone isn't enough for her, it never was. That damned butterfly is there too, no matter how much people wish to ignore it or never see it at all even if it's plain as day in my opinion. Without that second half, people render her much harsher, and flatter, and frankly less intelligent than what the text itself supports. She's not solely patient entrapment like an arachnid, she's also drift, and allure, and curiosity, that pull toward what glitters strangely enough to hold her attention. She's not only the web, she's also the thing that still turns, somehow, toward beauty. (Does this correlate to people yet in terms of the likelihood of her being tied to Beauty as well?)
That, too, is where longing enters, and once it does, I genuinely don't think one can remove it from her again. She feels to me like a woman haunted not by loud grief, but by some exquisitely held absence. By things once known in the body that are no longer resumed in full, or even partially. By touch deferred, by music remembered in the fingers, by a presence that often feels strongest in what is left behind— her fragrance, warmth, memory, interruption, and trace. All of it sits so naturally beside her that I can't read it as coincidence. She's, perhaps more than anything, a woman of lingering. Of the almost, of what remains after the thing itself has stepped away. And if that's true, then of course she would be drawn to choice even while entangled with fate, of course she would be fascinated by humanity, of course she would speak of the future and still insist on the significance of the hand that reaches towards it.
In that sense, her contradictions aren't contradictions at all, they're the mechanism of her person. Fate and agency, performance and sincerity, violence and moral language, distance and warmth, boredom and curiosity, the spider and butterfly, longing and restraint. None of these cancel each other out, no, dang it, they complete each other. More than that, I think they make clear that Kafka isn't a character whose truth lies underneath her surface in some simple hidden little compartment. No, her truth bleeds through the surface continuously, all the time, but in such measured, stylized, and selective ways that one must actually be willing to linger in order to catch it.
And perhaps that's what I keep circling back to in one form or another: that Kafka may be one of those characters where the writing almost dares us to misread first. To take the warning, the persona, the myth, the spectacle, and then to stop there. But if you linger, if you follow where the details stray and linger, if you allow her own words the dignity of being really heard, then something far more nuanced begins to emerge. She's not a simple seductress, she's not a simple liar, she's not a simple apostle of predestination. No, I firmly believe her to be a woman standing at the threshold between inevitability and choice, who seems to know the cruelty of fate perhaps better than most, and who therefore understands, with unbearable precision, why choosing still matters at all.
And if that's what MiHoYo is doing with her, and I genuinely believe that it is, then Kafka isn't merely adjacent to one of HSR's central themes, then she's actually one of its most intricate embodiments.
Please hear me: I cannot read your mind, neither can anyone else. And yet, there's some who operate as though telepathy is a reasonable expectation in what is, at its core, a collaborative hobby built entirely on communication. The irony of that shouldn't be lost on anyone.
If you want a dynamic with me, tell me. Please don't hover at the edges of my blog, don't like a handful of posts and hope I'll somehow divine your interest from the notifications alone. The worst thing that happens is that I say no, and 'no' is not cruelty, it's just an answer. But silence gives you nothing, and it gives me nothing, and then we both walk away empty-handed from something that could have been.
And most importantly, and the main reason I'm writing this despite (perhaps) my better judgment: if you no longer want a dynamic, I need you to tell me that too. And not go 'I'll tell you', no, actually tell me if the time has come. Don't slow-fade on me, don't quietly stop responding and hope that I'll take the hint, don't dodge my threads while still being active everywhere else and pray that I don't notice (I notice). I understand that saying 'I've lost interest' feels uncomfortable to initiate, but do you know what's worse? Letting someone continue to invest in something you've already mentally checked out of, and letting them wonder what they did wrong, because you couldn't extend them the basic respect of a single honest sentence. That's not kindness, that's cowardice dressed as consideration, and the person on the receiving end of your silence always, always knows the difference. And having been on the receiving end of that with numerous big dynamics that I've loved, I can say that it absolutely sucks.
People often assume honesty will wound others, and that the consequence is worse than anything else. But let go of that assumption, because it isn't yours to make. We're adults. We've heard 'no' before, we've had dynamics end, and we've survived all of it with our respect for the other person intact. But what I think people don't survive gracefully is being left in the dark, performing investment into something someone has already silently abandoned, and feeling foolish when the silence becomes too loud to ignore. People are so worried about hurting others that they can and have chosen the option that hurts worse. And that's something that many don't get past, because it is, genuinely, rooted in dishonesty, and stringing someone along. And especially on a website where we preach friendship to some extent quite frequently, I hope that I speak for everyone when I say: we deserve better.
Essentially: talk to people. Tell them what you want, tell them what you don't want anymore. Because the conversation you're afraid of having is infinitely kinder than the silence you're offering instead.
Meme: Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion. // @umbrensis // Accepting
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Another thing I'm thinking of since my return (though truthfully, this one has been building for years ever since I was asked about it during the DA era), is the way that canon compliance, but especially canon-strict portrayals have somehow slowly become a sort of 'wrong' option. Somewhere along the line, the RPC flipped a switch, and seems like it decided that adhering to source material is a rigid decision, sometimes/often closed-minded, and perhaps even hostile (especially towards blogs that don't do the same), while 'do whatever you want, your headcanons are the only canon that matters!' became the only acceptable stance to hold. And I find that kinda... baffling?
Let me be super clear about something here, though: there is nothing wrong with headcanons. I have them too, there is nothing wrong with canon-divergence, with AUs, or with reinterpretations of any kind. I've never once said that there was, but what I am saying, is that the celebration of creative freedom has quietly, and kind of insidiously, mutated into something else entirely. It's no longer 'all interpretations are valid', it's 'all interpretations are equal', and I'm sorry, I personally don't think that they are. A reading that's carefully built on source material, cross-referenced with character stories, voice lines, and canon events, is not the same weight as something someone invented because they thought it'd be fun. Both can exist, both are allowed to exist, but they are not the same thing, and saying so should not be a controversial topic. And yet, somehow, it seems like it is. Somehow, the person who actually sat down, read the material, and chose to follow it closely is now the one who has to justify their approach, their dynamics, while the person who disregards it entirely gets to operate unquestioned under the umbrella of 'creative freedom'. When did diligence become a flaw?
And I think I know why this shift happened, and it has nothing to do with artistic philosophy. It's because canon-strict writers say no sometimes. That's it, right? That's gotta be the whole thing. When you adhere closely to source material, you will inevitably decline ideas that don't fit within those bounds, and no one has ever liked hearing no, none of us do. So rather than accept that someone's 'no' is a boundary and not an attack, they've reframed the standard itself as the problem. It's not that your idea didn't fit, it's that the other person is too strict, it's not that your headcanon contradicts established lore, it's that they're a purist (said with the same energy one might say elitist, and sanity knows I've been called that since 2017 at least). It's easier to paint someone's standards as unreasonable than it is to accept that your pitch simply didn't land.
And here's the irony that I need everyone to consider: the same community that preaches 'your blog, your rules, do what you want' will look at someone who chooses to be canon-strict and treat that as a problem, or a limitation. The freedom apparently extends to every creative choice except the choice of discipline. You can diverge as wildly as you please, but the moment you choose restraint, the moment you choose fidelity to the text, suddenly you're difficult, suddenly you're intimidating, suddenly you might just be 'too much'. Does no one else see how contradictory that is? 'Do whatever you want' should logically include 'follow canon closely if that's what fulfills you', and yet that's the one approach that somehow isn't celebrated to the same extent when the topic really arises. It's the one approach that people feel comfortable questioning, pushing back on, or treating as a personal slight against their creativity.
Personally, I now choose canon-strict because I love the material so much that i honor it as it was written, even though I come from wild AUs, and intense canon divergence in the past. But canon strict isn't a limitation, it's a challenge I enjoy, and it's one that has brought me more satisfaction in writing than anything else I've done in this hobby. If that makes me incompatible with certain ideas, certain dynamics, certain plots, then that's a matter of fit, not a matter of me being wrong. And the sooner that part of this community stops treating faithfulness to source material as some kind of personal offense, the sooner we can all stop tiptoeing around each other and just write.
Meme: Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion. // @immobiliter // Accepting
Now I never know anymore if my opinions are still the minority after such a long absence, but they persistently have been in the past, so I'll continue the pattern with one of my biggest peeves. You did send me three, with 'let it rip', so I'll do juuuust that. —— Right, so, I return after a long absence, and I'm immediately reminded of something that I never missed: the RPC's rampant main character syndrome. And I mean that in the most literal way possible, the inability to perceive other people's actions as anything other than a response to your existence.
People have muses that they love, muses they have loved for years, muses that they will always come back to, that they will always have something to say about, because that's what this hobby is, that's what we're all here for. And yet, somehow and somewhere along more recent years, this community has decided that enthusiasm requires justification. That posting meta, replying to old or new threads whenever it may be in the day, even adding or removing muses, or being visibly passionate about a character must have some ulterior motive behind it. That the timing could be or is a little 'suspicious', that it may be a thing of competition, that it's about someone else rather than the poster/writer themselves. Because one person might do those/certain things with intent themselves, and so everyone else must as well, right?
And I need people to sit for a moment, with how narcissistic that way of thinking is, because that is what it is: a trait of narcissism. The assumption that someone's passion could be a reaction to someone else's existence instead of the obvious, the belief that people are out here cross-referencing your blog activity before they decide what to post on their own, or who to reply to, or when. The conviction that everything that happens in someone's periphery is somehow in reference to someone else. It's not in almost all cases. Most people are simply doing what they've always done, loving the characters that they've always loved, writing when they have the energy to write, and they shouldn't have to hesitate because someone, somewhere, might take it personally.
But that's exactly what happens, isn't it? People hesitate, and then they'll sit on their meta (sanity knows that I have), they'll wait to post replies, they mentally map out who might feel some type of way before they post about their own muse on their own blog. Again, I know this happens because I've been told it, and it's also happened to me. And we've somehow normalized that. We've created an environment where being passionate about your muses, old and new, feels like feels like stepping on someone's toes even though you're in your own space. And for what? Because people can't fathom a world that doesn't revolve around them? Or worse, because they project their own competitive behavior onto everyone else, and assume that we all operate with the same pettiness?
These characters belong to only one person, and that is their creator. No one owns a portrayal, no one owns any space of any kind, and no one should have to dim themselves because someone else is watching and potentially building some sort of conspiracy theory against someone else. If you see someone post, reply, add a muse, set up dynamics, or simply exist with enthusiasm, and your first thought is suspicion? That sounds like something of yours to unpack, not something of theirs to manage.
Meme: Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion. // @svpernovae // Accepting
I hate moving, I don't hate moving, but I've kinda come to hate moving. I think this makes move number 15 since 2021 (France especially ruined me), if not 16. I've had it. I've had it. I know each one has brought me closer to peace, like this finally is gonna be the last pit stop before the last one for literal years. But holy shit, am I tired of moving, of packing. How many times!! And now I have to go on a night ferry with two cats in their separate carriers, a travel suitcase that holds a PC, my actual purse, and my heavy backpack that holds my work equipment. And anything else is getting shipped over in separate boxes in these upcoming days before the actual move on the 5th. Have I said that I hate packing yet? Kill me, I hate this. Once I arrive, it'll be fine because I'll have help and so much is set up and prepared already, but to get to and onto the ferry to get to Crete? Ugh. I never thought I'd say that I miss moving by plane, but I can't do that with two cats in the cabin and this stuff I need to take with me.
And this'll be the only time I'll reference the heat really cause we all know, we're all suffering, but of course my lease ends in August of all months. In Greece. August! When even the Athenians flee because the capital gets too hot, and it's for this reason (and this isn't where it'll stop):
Of course that's the day I move. Save me for I have not sinned. Well, much.
Dynamics update. Since my return, I've been peeking at peoples' dynamic pages to see what they've done with dynamics that I had either established with them, or were in the works to get established before life grabbed a hold of me. Now, as I've noted numerous times, I fully, and truly understand if people had grown tired of my absence, and opted to remove dynamics (either permanently or temporarily, especially non-romantic dynamics). I gave it some thought for a while, and I thought that I would mimic removal decisions. Aka, if you've removed a dynamic that we had, I will do the same as remove them from my list as well— however, I will not automatically see this as disinterest from your end until I learn whether this is actually the case. By default, I will simply see this as: I've been gone a while, it's time to work on dynamics again. That simple, and if you disagree, then feel free to boop me on the nose with a spatula.
The other topic I need to address, Wriothesley...— Exclusivity. This was already something that I had strongly considered before my absence, and it has only cropped back up as I reblogged that little nifty, and favorite salt meme of mine. Most of my lineup consists of very niche muses that are either rarely written by other writers (or not written for long) but they are usually part of dynamics tied to characters that are written often (Jingliu, and Kafka being the two big ones here), and I recognize that exclusivity locks them away, preventing other writers from potentially ever touching these dynamics. So while I understand the practice of it, my actual use of this will decrease exponentially. It doesn't mean that I will go looking to write duplicates, as I still live within the comfort of preferring one iteration, but I will no longer lock myself away.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Lottie is the worst influence that has ever existed, she outdoes me at every single turn. Also my god, am I in love with this job. Give me IT, and more IT. I've wanted this always, and finally have it— and the company is fantastic. Anyway, you'll see nothing in the nearby future.
When I've filed for a permanent tax residency change for three people (myself included), after filing taxes for the same three people (myself included), I've done enough in terms of government. But I've also finally decided on the day where I'm moving to the island (5th of August) which will be the first of two moves. Hopefully the apartment we've had our eyes on will still be available and the final move will be in late August, or early September, and then: the end. In the good way, in the best way.
In other news: hey, blame Jace— Jane Doe will join, and blame Lottie for Von Lycaon. (Yes, it is their fault, genuinely and absolutely). And you can blame me for ZZZ in general.
I saw a post on twitter earlier that talked about how they worry their new favorite fanfics may be written by AI because they include a lot of those dashes (em dashes I think they're called?) which apparently is a sign of it and then I remember how some of my favorite writers on tumblr also use them and you're one of them. But I know you and some of the others have used them for so many years so I don't worry at all, but man this world is wild now
I chuckled, because I see those posts going around regularly on X as well, and I sit here each time and think back to my invictusmanet days in 2016 where I already used them consistently. It's so odd to think about how something people can use so innately is now considered a 'sign of AI', but that's really an unfair thing to say. The em dashes aren't an invention of AI— they've been used in literature for so many years. I mean, Charles Dickens, and Emily Dickinson are two authors that I've always seen use them a fair bit, and it's where I got my usage of them from, actually (especially the latter; wasn't she the queen of them?) To such a point now that as you can see, I use it in my casual writing of out of character stuff as well. They're just part of how I convey things, I suppose, I don't know if I'll ever let go of them, they serve a purpose that nothing can ever truly replace, in my opinion. But who am I? Just one of many people on this planet, regardless of my firm opinions. All in all, I think my advice is... trust the authors that you've always known that they are still the authors that you've always known, and in other cases, trust your gut when you fear you're being overly critical, for it's right more often than people give it credit for. Technology is capable of a lot, but we are able of recognizing our own far more than we realize.
I also wanted to thank you, that's very kind of you! I've been absent so much, that I feel like I'm currently extremely out of touch with writing, my mutuals, and writing partners as a whole— so reading that you remember me fondly, or return to my blog still after so long, means a great deal. I hope you had one hell of a weekend, 'non!
My old habit of word vomiting in excitement, and the cycle that it's created, and how it's shot me in the foot. I need to address it, so I can change it. Brutal honest self-reflection time, let's go, it's been a while. Apologies, it's a long one.
Anyone who's known me long enough, knows that when anyone writes me something, I will scream at you, whether this is in the notes, or DMs— screaming seems to be in my blood as a writing partner. I don't do a 'like and a comment of a few sentences' (not that there's anything wrong with that). I haven't in years, it's also how I can't reblog a gifset and simply let that 'be', my mind insists that I ramble, and ramble in the tags, because there's so much to say. My brain has just functioned that way for a long time. But the problem is that somewhere along the way, this changed. And with that I don't mean that my excitement has changed, but my energy, and my ability to type such long, and screaming essays about it has changed (at least at present). Essentially: the problem is me. It's that I am my own worst enemy; I cultivate expectations that people can, and should, be able to rationally hold me to. This, however, leaves me open to one big consequence that I have now fallen into: the issue of what happens when my pattern breaks.
Why? I really think that it's my energy levels that are still recovering since finally being able to get rest in Greece after years of emotional, financial, and familial turmoil. Those three have left me with less fuel than I used to have for many things. It's affected writing and similar hobbies, DMs (especially lengthy ones) on Discord, and it's even affected my overall activity on the dash, including leaving notes and overall interacting with mutuals like I used to. But the part that is affected the most, is my reactions to replies from partners (which then ripple affects onto my presence on the dash even more). Let me clarify more: I've placed myself in this little box where I have made myself believe that if I do not send an essay including neon-colored pterodactyl screaming along with the press of a 'like' button, that my writing partners may think that I believe that what they've given me is 'lesser', while nothing could be farther from the truth. And the reason I think so is because I usually/consistently (or so I base off of peoples' reactions to me, and seeing my own DMs) flooded my partners with an exceeding amount of verbal or written enthusiasm. And I don't have the energy for that anymore (I also lurk a lot from my phone now, where I don't easily type without war crimes being committed to my wrists), or at least not now— not to the intense extent I used to do it. And so it has caused a a sense of guilt. Will it be okay if I throw a like on this, and point out this one detail I love so much without including everything else? Is it okay to throw a like on this starter, and let that be it for now and I ramble in the tags of the reply when I get to it? Is a like enough? Do I have to comment? Is anything less too little? I think about it so much, because of this reputation that I think I may have given myself, that I then scare myself away from liking the post that contains the starter, or ask reply in its entirety. Which, now that I'm typing it out, is such a spectacular way to guarantee the exact outcome I was trying to avoid. In refusing to give someone a 'lesser' reaction, I gave many nothing instead for weeks (and in the midst of my absence/move as well: sometimes months)— and nothing truthfully reads worse than that.
And you guys deserve infinitely better from me, but I kept myself in this cycle where I postponed actually acknowledging something, and reacting to it (even if it's one comment, instead of a whole essay in DMs), for the stupidest of reasons. And I'm going to break that cycle, because I don't just want to post about this 'as to write it down', but to hold myself accountable and allow you guys to hold me to my words, and to show that I recognize this flaw of mine that cropped up at some point, and address it so that it no longer happens. As of today (perhaps give me a slight amount of grace for this month and August, as I'm moving), I will do better, I will curb-stomp this ridiculous habit that has not done my writing partners any justice, and you will see me in your activity more frequently— and responses will be acknowledged much sooner.
Either way, I then have a 'request': if I like something and no essay follows it— that's not indifference. It has never been indifference, and will never be indifference. That's just me, likely on my phone, somewhere between being feral internally and being completely unable to type more, or I'm exceedingly exhausted at the end of my day. A like from me with shorter commentary, also means everything an essay always has— also because (I hope) that the biggest praise is that it will be responded to in a thread, or an ask, or it'll be remembered and used in some way or another in meta for our characters. I just need to let a like, or a few lines mean praise on their own again, instead of treating them like promises of writing an essay that I'm too worried to break.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
For as much as my experience with Amphoreus was rocky, I will very, very easily admit that the OST (instrumental and vocal tracks alike) from that world beats all others without even breaking a sweat. Proi, Proi, Nameless Faces, Saga of Heroes, Aria of the Precipice, Shatter the God's Crown, Coronal Radiance, Into the Arms of Tomorrow, Coronation (!!)— god.
He forgets this. The lack of urgency, that there is no reason to be so immediate, so decisive, as he has grown so accustomed to be. Or perhaps, there is always reason to be decisive, written in his blood and his flesh; but perhaps there is no reason to finish everything that needs to be finished with the same tight deadlines he once had to impose upon himself because they were matters of life and death. He knows he slips back into his old rhythm, more often than not - relies on old habits and instincts even when there is no reason to, because that is what he knows. Quietly, warmly, Changli reminds him that there are new habits to adopt, old instincts to quell. If not for his soldiers, at least for himself and his own peace of mind. This is no way to live, she tells him in her own words, spoken through the warmth of her hands and innocuous gestures that stand as perfect antitheses to the restlessness of the soldier who forgets he can slow down.
In fact, she is doing such good work of it, the paperwork has completely stopped - and Jiyan may or may not have been so distracted by the slender fingers travelling up his neck, and the fingernails gently digging into his hair, that he may or may not have missed the first part of her sentence; only just pulled from his little trance by her voice. Ah. The General, usually ever so composed and aware, has to deploy remarkable treasures of acting to pretend that he wasn't, just now, entirely elsewhere. "Come with you?" He repeats, more to assure them both that he had heard her (at least that part), amber eyes looking up only to be met with that very smile he never seems quite able to deny. Or to even want to. Especially when she goes to the greatest lengths to remind him of their last escapade to Mt Firmament and its hot springs, like a secret spilled in his ear and a promise all at once. Fleetingly, Jiyan wonders if she can feel the flush at the back of his neck despite the fabric that covers it. " ... you know there is little I would refuse you, and I suspect you are subtly taking advantage of it that knowledge." He retorts with a quiet smile of his own. Gloved hand rises from the desk to reach her arm, so that her hand may rest of his shoulder instead; and his over hers. "You are right. I forget deadlines in times of peace are less stringent than they are in times of war... and that time not enjoyed in good company is time that cannot be reclaimed." His thumb runs gently over the back of her hand as he speaks. "And I keep find memories of our last trip to the springs. I would quite like to return in your company. Would you give me an hour to gather my things and meet you at the docks?"
You know there is little I would refuse you. Careless man. She has spent two decades among people who would sooner part with their fortunes than with a sentence like that to anyone, all without terms, or conditions, without so much as a receipt for it— and he sets it down between them as though it weighs nothing at all. Her hands falter at his collar for it, though only ever so briefly. If he noticed, she would simply call it a change of technique, and she might even believe herself. The diversion then is given to her with ease in form of a laugh that escapes her, one low and entirely unrepentant. "General. I would never do subtly what I could simply do openly." A small correction in rare earnest. His hand rises, and guides hers to his shoulder, settling over it— and she allows it. Allows, moreover, the small treachery of noticing just how easily she allows it. He, and his glove are warmer than anticipated as his thumb starts to write its plain, and honest nonsense across her knuckles while he speaks of fond memories, and hours, and time that cannot be reclaimed, and for the span of a breath: the smile that she wears forgets to mean three things at once and settles, for a beat in time, for meaning only one.
Then it recovers itself as it always, thankfully, does. "An hour, then," is what she grants, retreating from him at last (an act proven more difficult with time), though her fingers trail his shoulder in leaving— a final press to that stubborn knot beside his neck; a parting gift, or perhaps a promise of what awaits proper attention. "Bring nothing sensible, I've seen to the rest."
————
The docks at this hour belong to lantern-light, and the creak of ropes, and little else. She stands at the end of the pier with her back to the city, watching Mt. Firmament hold up the far dark, and does not turn at the sound of boots on the boards behind her. She doesn't need to. She knows his stride— has come to know it somewhere along the way, without ever truly deciding to learn it. It is a strange sort of inventory to discover in oneself: knowing the weight of a man's step, the warmth that his hands leave behind, the exact shade of evening that his eyes will turn by lantern-light. She, who commits nothing to memory without purpose, cannot for the life of her recall when he became something that she came to study for no reason at all.
The night air carries the water's cool up around her, and she lets him approach in peace— lets the sound of him grow near, and nearer still, until it stops somewhere behind her shoulder, close enough that the space that separates them regains a familiar warmth. The familiar warmth of him. "Fifty-eight minutes." It comes as if spoken to the ripples in the water, and only then does she look over her shoulder, the firelight catching the curve of a smile. "I confess that I'm almost disappointed. I had something very clever prepared for fifty-nine."
![#[ kill.jpg. ]](/tag/%5B%20kill.jpg.%20%5D){kind=link}