#redefining

[venusvals]

Who are you, when you're not hiding behind your mother's legacy? (Part 2)

Mira Kang invades Rumi's life like a storm. Or, perhaps, like a big cosmic joke whose punchline Rumi doesn't get.

Mira quickly becomes Celine's favourite. The strongest of the two girls, the tallest, the one who doesn't question her place and purpose as a future Hunter.

The one who had the guts to spit on family traditions and expectations and leave everything behind, like her family are no more than annoying pets she never wanted.

It hurts. Gods and Honmoon above, it hurts.

It hurts, and she hates how Mira is so unabashedly herself, when all Rumi has ever managed (or been allowed) to be is Miyeong's perfect clone.

Mira, and her natural pink hair.

(" Do you think..." Rumi barely dares to formulate the thoughts that have been tormenting her since Mira strutted into their house. "Do you suspect she might have demonic heritage? Like me?"

Celine couldn't be more unbothered if she tried.

"Probably. But it's far above her in her family tree. Her parents and grandparents are not demons. I personally verified it."

"She deserves to know. Don't you think?"

Celine finally stops paying attention to the various documents spread in front of her.

"If we are the ones to open her eyes, she will raise questions about your own hair colour. That girl is wickedly perceptive. She will connect the dots immediately, and what do you think will happen next?") 

(She never talks about Mira's hair colour again. Celine knows best.)

The one and only time Mira disappoints Celine is when she summons her weapon.

Mira screeches in excitement as she waves her beautiful, impeccably designed gok-do in front of Rumi and Celine, and oh, that's probably the day Rumi feels a little better with herself. Free from the jealousy that has only been growing within her since the day Mira came into her life.

Mira summoning the gok-do automatically means she can't be the leader of the Hunters. The leader always summons the sacred Sa-in-geom sword.

Like Celine used to summon it.

Celine, who is looking at Mira with the same disappointment she looks at Rumi whenever she falters during training.

"I hoped you would have summoned the sacred sword. You are born to lead, not just be the second-in-command."

Mira doesn't seem offended in the slightest.

"Nah. This is far cooler. Now I get to be a fighter without worrying about leading."

Celine only shakes her head and leaves the girls alone under the sacred Hunter's tree.

"For what it's worth, Princess, I believe you are going to be our leader. I know we haven't met the third girl yet, but you have what it takes to lead."

Mira's words wash upon her like a bucket of ice cold water. 

She. A half demon.

Leader of the Hunters.

She looks at Mira, who's still inspecting her gorgeous Starlight weapon.

Mira, who will be the second-in-command like Miyeong.

Mira, who stole Miyeong's legacy from Rumi like it means nothing.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Kang.", Rumi hisses and runs as fast as she can.

As far away from Mira as possible.

Rumi's despair only grows when, barely a week later, she summons the Sa-in-geom.

"I still believe you would have been an excellent second-in-command for Mira, like your mother was for me. But still. Congratulations."

Celine smiles at her and hands her over a bowl full of fresh strawberries to share with Mira.

Mira, who is looking at her like she's seeing her for the first time.

"Oh, Princess."

"What now?"

"I summoned the gok-do. You were mad at me, because I am not the leader. Because you wanted to be in my place."

Her heart skips a beat. Her head feels like it's going to explode.

Danger, danger, danger. Evade. Conceal. Don't let anyone know.

Her grip on the bowl is the only thing that grounds her.

"Stop. Just shut your big mouth for once."

"I've seen you, you know. How your hair bothers you. How you avoid certain types of food that are supposedly your mom's favourites."

Mira is looking at her with pity.

"You're not even a person, Ryu. You are a ghost."

Before Rumi can react, Mira has already left.

They are barely 15. Mira is 6 months younger than Rumi and yet she has realized more things about Rumi than anyone else.

And Rumi feels seen.

Terrified.

Desperate.

Yet... Desperate to hide?

Or desperate to reveal more?

To be continued...

[fluxxdog]

New definition: AI now stands for Accumulated Information since there is currently no intelligence-based model. This is a more correct definition as these systems simply rely on processed information that has been accumulated.

[random-xpressions]

While the underlying goal of religion remains to enter paradise in next life, spirituality in its direct contrast is all about discovering & experiencing heaven while we are still upon earth...

Random Xpressions

[hollyjumper]

ai altered

[kingdaddydaichi]

☆ title: redefining (ch. 11) | ( ch. 10 ) ☆ ( ch. 12 - wip )

☆ pairing: cop!daichi sawamura x single mom!reader

☆ wc: 2.5k

☆ synopsis: four years after leaving your toxic ex, you find yourself a single mom to a 11-year-old boy named musubi, who harbors a lot of misdirected anger. you hear from his fifth grade teacher, mr. suga, more often than your own mother and a resulting friendship is born. meeting suga’s best friend wages a war between your head and your heart - one that challenges everything you think you know about love and police officers. neither are to be trusted. both have left you lost and scared when you needed them the most. so, when a cop comes knocking at love’s door, just how strong is your resolve to keep your heart under lock and key?

☆ warnings/notes: sfw. cop!daichi. mutual pining. angst. domestic disturbance. fear. idk like, the way daichi talks to subi might come across as patriarchal? but it's the way i feel like daichi would speak to him under the specific circumstances, how he knew he would get through to him. i am deeply sorry for the massive real-life time gap between chapters //sob. but i'm committed to finishing this series. my love for daichi and this story is settled deep inside my bones. I'M BACK BITCHES /aff 🫶🏼

she's falling in love now losing control now fighting the truth trying to hide but i think it's alright, girl yeah i think it's alright, girl

losin control - russ

Life can be a rip-roaring bitch sometimes, y'know?

The first week or so after your fallout with Daichi had been relatively easy. The fact that you were still angry at him helped a lot more than you'd have liked to admit. The battle to get him off your mind was constant, but all you had to do was remember the way his eyebrows angled inward when he yelled at you. You’d never seen him like that before and it had scared you, triggering your fight or flight response on top of the heart-wrenching pain of seeing him being a little too friendly with his ex.

But what you kept pushing down with all of your might was the fact that daichi was right. He had called you on everything you’d worked so hard to hide from him. The fact that he’d seen you so clearly scared you more than the look in his eyes when he raised his voice at you. He had been angry, yes. But a lot of hurt had weaved its way into his words as well.

Halfway through the second week, however, things started to go downhill. You found yourself reaching for your phone a couple of times to tell Daichi about something ridiculous or funny that had happened only for your fingers to stop short as your heart sank.

Oh. right. I'm not supposed to do that anymore.

You’d even tried venting to Suga about Daichi in hopes that he would validate you, but he wasn’t as sympathetic towards your plight as you would’ve liked: “But isn’t this what you wanted?” he'd said. “You’ve been saying that whatever the hell was going on between you two had an expiration date…” “You’re right. It’s probably better this way so you and Daichi can each find the people you wanna be with...” That last one had really dug deep - the thought of Daichi with anyone else made your heart splinter and your stomach wretch. But you had swallowed your heartache down with the lump in your throat and nodded with a meek “Yeah, exactly,” knowing deep in your bones that you didn’t mean a word of it. Suga knew it too.

The week after that was the week from hell. Crying in bed every night because you missed Daichi so much was made that much worse by your shitty week. Life could’ve just given you a normal week but NOPE. Every single day, multiple times a day, you’d pick up your phone to send him an angry text about your boss or the rude ass lady at the grocery store. Or the fact that some really, really important notarized legal documents got lost in the mail. Three trips to UPS, two trips to the post office, and $91.00 later the paperwork finally reached its intended destination via next day air. You wanted to ask him to arrest the incompetent twat who put your mailer on the wrong truck in the first place and then smile at his reaction. To top it all off, your son’s behavior had hit an all-time low. You’d been hoping that it would’ve improved after the disciplinary hearing, which Subi had attended as well but, if anything, his behavior at home had gotten worse too.

You wanted to call Daichi. You wanted him to come over and hold you as you curled into a ball against his chest. To feel his hands in your hair and his lips on your forehead telling you that ‘everything’s gonna be okay’. Because you’d believe it if Daichi was the one saying it. He’d make sure of it. But you couldn’t do any of those things and it made you cry. Like getting kicked when you’re already down.

Daichi didn’t have it much better. 

He’d called and apologized to Yui, who had called him a “fucking asshole”. There was the drunk driver who had puked on him while doing his field sobriety test (he probably deserved that, he’d guessed). Then there was the day he got stuck directing traffic in a torrential downpour. The police-issued waterproof ponchos had done nothing for his wet socks and the sloshing in his shoes. 

There were also all the little annoying things that kept happening to him - his washing machine quit working (mid-cycle, no less), he got a flat tire (in a different torrential downpour), he stubbed his toe one morning while getting out of bed (talk about a rude awakening) - nothing too serious but just enough to piss him off. 

The worst of it was finding out his mom had to be hospitalized for Covid. She had to be on oxygen, but the prognosis was good. She was expected to be okay and eventually make a full recovery, but of course it made him worry about her nonetheless.

And through every bit of it, you were on his mind. He missed you something fierce. But some of the things you’d said still weighed on his heart:

“...how cruel can you be?” “You’re not even my type.” “Just go back in there and fuck your ex-girlfriend!”

That last one had hurt the most. Did you really think that lowly of him to think he’d do that to you? 

To be fair, he also remembered some of the things he’d said to you:

“Would you have liked it better if i’d introduced you as my fuck buddy…?” “What? Not toxic enough for ya?” “...you don’t have to be a jealous girlfriend about it…!”

They made him cringe every time he remembered. Sometimes the words you had thrown at each other kept him up at night.

Tonight was one of those nights…

Daichi was reading in bed, trying to take his mind off of you when his phone buzzed on his nightstand. Thinking it must be work-related at this time of night, he picked it up to see who was calling. When he saw your name on the screen, his heart wanted to claw its way out of his chest. What could you possibly want? Best case scenario was you wanted to apologize, but that could wait until tomorrow. If you didn’t want him to make you a priority anymore, he was going to honor that. Worst case scenario was you were reaching out to him for another booty call, and he was done with that. 

Either way, he let your call go to voicemail, but just as he was about to put his phone back down, your text came through as three little numbers:

911

Daichi sat bolt upright and immediately tapped the call button. Halfway through the first ring, you answered. “Daichi?” You were crying and he could hear a young man’s voice yelling in the background.

He swung his legs around off the bed, wide brown eyes darting this way and that. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Subi,” you cried. There was a loud bang accompanied by a muffled sob from you. “He threatened to hurt me and now he’s throwing things…”

Before you could say anything else, daichi was on his feet, throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before heading for his front door. “You at home?”

“Y-yes.” you were crying so hard you were wheezing. “Daichi, please…please help?”

“I’m on my way.” His voice was remarkably low and stern and comforting as he told you to go inside your bedroom, lock the door, and stay there. He made sure you didn’t have any injuries and stayed on the phone with you for the 10 mins it took for him to get there. It normally took twice that long to drive from his place to yours, but he had his blue lights on, going well over the speed limit. 

“Daichi, I’m so scared,” you sobbed. 

“I’m almost there, (y/n). Just five more minutes. Come on, deep breaths.” He talked you down enough that you weren’t crying as hard. “Alright, I’m here. Do you know if he’s still in the house?” 

“Yeah, I can hear him. But the front door is locked.” 

“Do you feel safe enough to come out of your room and open it?” 

You’d heard Subi’s voice getting further away and the slamming of his bedroom door. “Yeah, I think so.” 

You slowly came out of your room and hurried to the front door, nearly collapsing in Daichi’s arms when you swung it open. He hugged you and told you everything was okay. He walked inside slowly, noticing some broken glass and other, obviously thrown, objects on the floor, and called your son’s name. Your pre-teen came out of his bedroom to find a man he didn’t recognize standing in the living room. 

“Who’re you?” he asked. 

“I’m Daichi, a friend of your mom’s. You must be Musubi.” 

Musubi narrowed his eyes at him and shrugged in response. 

“What’s been going on, man?” 

Your son crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe it’s none of your business.” 

Daichi’s dark brown eyes remained steady on him. “Well, seeing as how your mom is my friend and she’s scared and crying, I’d say it is my business.” 

The boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not that big of a deal-“ 

“Wrong again. Your mom doesn’t feel safe in her own home. That’s a problem. It’s just the two of you living here, right?” 

Subi shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“Then that makes you man of the house, doesn’t it?” 

Your son’s eyes met Daichi’s for the first time since he first spoke to him. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“And as the man of the house, don’t you think it’s your job to protect everyone in it, including your mom?” 

The boy didn’t respond, but his facial muscles relaxed as he maintained eye contact with Daichi. He had his undivided attention now. He was speaking to him man to man and your son was listening intently. 

“It’s a big responsibility to be in your position,” Daichi went on, nodding towards you. “Your mother and her safety are under your watch. She doesn’t feel safe with you when you’re the one who’s supposed to be protecting her.” The off-duty police officer's voice remained calm and even as he tilted his head. “So tell me, Musubi: do you really think you’re qualified to be man of the house?” 

You watched and listened with awe as Daichi took command over the situation, showing Subi what it means to be in full control. He leveled with your son while making him feel validated and understood. Rather than telling Subi how he should talk to you, Daichi did far more by showing him what it means to be a good man; he was teaching Subi how to treat others with respect in the way he spoke to him - by demonstrating to him that you get respect from others by being respectable.

Your son’s gaze fell under the weight of Daichi’s words. His beliefs about what it means to be a “man” had just been challenged and shaken to the core. He thought it meant being loud and aggressive, lording over others, calling the shots and expecting others to submit to him - no doubt all the tactics he’d learned from watching his father. 

“You think you’re in control here? Because, from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.” The boy’s gaze followed Daichi’s as he looked around at the broken items in the room before looking over at you, still trembling and sniffling. “If you lose control, it means you don’t have it, Musubi. It’s that simple. Do we have an understanding?” 

The boy’s eyes locked with Daichi’s again and he nodded. 

“Good man. Now,” Daichi said with quiet authority, “Clean up the mess you made.” It wasn’t a request.

“Yes, sir,” Subi murmured as he started picking up the pieces. 

You couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your son’s mouth. Yes, sir? You looked up at Daichi - The Musubi Whisperer - wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Never even raised his voice and had him under his complete command. 

“(Y/n), can I talk to you for a minute in the kitchen?” Daichi said it just loudly enough that your son could hear how his mother should be talked to - by asking, not demanding. 

“Of course.” You followed Daichi until your son was out of earshot, then whispered, “How the fuck did you just do that?” 

Daichi shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of experience. Oldest of 5 kids. Team captain. Cop.” You smiled and nodded, wiping the last of your tears away. He put a tentative hand on your shoulder. “You okay, (y/n)?” 

“I think so,” you sniffed, wiping your freshest tear away with your shirt sleeve. “I’m so sorry to have troubled you, but you were the first person i thought of-” 

Daichi shook his head and pulled you into his arms. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you called me.”

Whether it was the catharsis from the highly charged situation or your need to feel Daichi close was irrelevant when you fastened yourself to him. Before you could think, your arms were around his waist and your head tucked against his chest. 

“Thank you,” you said, your shaky voice muffled by the warmth and weight of Daichi’s arms wrapping tightly around you.

“If it happens again, call me again. If you need anything at all, call me,” he said, rubbing your back. This was the Daichi you’d known all along and fucking hell, you missed him.

You tightened your hold around his waist. You were so immensely relieved to hear him say that. Maybe he still wanted to be the one you called. Just maybe he wanted to be the one you needed. 

“I will,” you said, nodding against his chest.

Before he left that night, he shook Subi's hand. “Take care of your mom.” 

“Yes, sir.” Holy hell, there it was again. Daichi hadn’t even told him to call him sir. Leastways, not with words. How did he do that?

“Do I have your word?” Daichi asked, squeezing Subi’s hand. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright, I’ll stop by in a couple days to see how things are going," he looked at you, "...if that's okay." 

Your son’s lips pursed as he fought back a smile as he watched you nod. “Okay.” 

After Daichi left, Subi said, “You should find a guy like him, Mom.”

Your mouth dropped open, your heart skipping a million beats. Your son had no idea who Daichi was, what he did for a living, or the highly complicated nature of your relationship with him. Finally, you smiled and said, “Yeah? He’s a good guy, huh?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “He’s alright.”

Your son turned to you with his shoulders slumped and tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mom.” 

Your body shook with tears as you nodded against his shoulder. “I know, baby. I love you so much.” 

Subi squeezed you tighter as he told you he loved you too.

ch. 10 ☆ ch. 12 (wip)

series mlist | daichi mlist

☆ taglist: @chaoskrakenuwu ☆ @ceo-of-daichi ☆ @honeybunny-sawamura ☆ @yuujispinkhair ☆ @luvkun4 ☆ @briokayama ☆ @mrs-sawamura ☆ @heroesfan101 ☆ @millenialfanfictionaddiction ☆ @citrustsuki ☆ @darthferbert ☆ @crystal-lilac ☆ @hannas16 ☆ @cookiesandmilksx ☆ @strawberrystepmom ☆ @anejuuuuoy ☆ @maexc ☆ @little-ms-awkward ☆ @patheticliesblog ☆ @strawbmarma ☆ @lomons ☆ @victorianhorrors @gazzybums ++ ask/dm/comment if you wanna be added to or removed from a taglist

[imoga-pride]

Hello! I'm an Indigenous lesbian and I was looking through lesbian/sapphic terms on different LGBTQIA+ wiki websites and I came across the term "Faunic," and I couldn't help but notice the use of "nonman" in your definition. Many Black and Indigenous people have spoken up on the antiblack and anti-Indigenous history of "nonman" as a term, as "nonman nonwomen" has been historically used to degender and dehumanize Black and Indigenous peoples. Could the definition of Faunic please be revised with better language? Perhaps something along the lines of "Women, nonbinary people and others who do not identify with manhood who are not attracted to men or man-aligned genders"?

I edited both posts with the redefinition from @redtail-lol, which I think best described. Sadly, that can't be fixed in past reblogs. I hope wikis also update the definition as well.

[maynardharryinfluencermarketinge]

The Development of Maynard Harry: Reinterpreting Power in the Digital Era

Maynard Harry has become a source of inspiration and genuineness in the quickly changing world of social media, where trends change quickly. With his special combination of creativity, intelligence, and unshakable dedication, he has completely changed the definition of what it means to be an influencer in the digital age. Let's examine Maynard Harry: Redefining Influence in the Digital Age.  

The Path of Maynard Harry as a Social Media Star

The Evolution of Maynard Harry as an Influencer, he didn't intend to become well-known or wealthy by becoming a social media celebrity. Rather, his quest started with a sincere need to connect with people and express his voice. Maynard bravely set out on a voyage of self-expression with little more than a smartphone and a love of stories. His genuineness and relatability struck a chord with viewers all across the world right away, launching him into the limelight as a trailblazer in the field of digital impact.

Encouraging Change via Advocacy, Inclusivity, and Diversity

Maynard's steadfast dedication to advancing social justice, diversity, and inclusivity is at the heart of his influence. He fights for significant change by elevating the voices of marginalized people through his activism and thought-provoking content. Whether promoting racial equality, female empowerment, or LGBTQ+ rights, Maynard uses his platform to start important dialogues and motivate others to take action. His commitment to elevating marginalized voices acts as a potent catalyst for social change.

A Voice for Empowerment in Mental Health

Maynard Harry is a fervent supporter of mental health awareness and destigmatization, in addition to his advocacy activities. By candidly discussing his struggles with mental health, he contributes to dismantling obstacles and creating a supportive environment for individuals going through similar issues. Through open dialogue and moving thoughts, Maynard gives his followers the confidence to put self-care first and ask for assistance when necessary. His openness and genuineness establish a comfortable environment for discussion, opening the door to a wider acceptance and understanding of mental health concerns.

Motivating Genuineness and Adaptability via Open Discussions

Maynard's open conversations about the struggles and victories of life reveal his genuineness. Whether talking about personal development, societal problems, or mental health, he inspires his followers to accept who they really are and face life head-on. Through the cultivation of authentic relationships based on trust and empathy, Maynard establishes a community in which people are encouraged to share their experiences and offer support to one another. His unflinching openness and relatability encourage others to embrace their true selves and make the most of their life.

In summary

Maynard Harry's power extends much beyond social media, as he keeps redefining influence in the digital age. Through his advocacy work, genuineness, and passion for helping others, he has solidified his reputation as a pioneer in the field of digital influence. In an ever-changing digital context, Maynard's influence will continue to shape dialogue, inspire change, and cultivate deep connections in the future. Maynard Harry is a bright example of what it means to be a genuine influencer in the digital era in a world that is clamoring for authenticity and connection.