#I’m trying to convince myself that connection is possible and being me is okay

[libartz]

“Change ur OC they’re unrealistic/annoying/too boring/too perfect” sir you must understand that this is the closest I have gotten yet to loving myself and you need to mind your business

#lil talks #my ocs #OCs for ‘serious writing times’ vs OCs for self exploration and comfort #are very different things #I’m not trying to write the next top novel #I’m trying to convince myself that connection is possible and being me is okay #and sometimes to work through tough concepts/times in narrative form because that hurts less #which is kinda sorta what stories are FOR #This isn’t in response to an actual incident #I just feel like there’s a mentality of ‘you need to improve your art/writing/characters to be PRO and meet The Standards’ #improving is good but not when it’s at the cost of enjoyment and/or the actual reason you did the thing in the first placd #*place #and it gets me MEGA PEEVED

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 65 – System Collapse by Martha Wells

I’ve had this on preorder long enough to have entirely forgotten about it by the time I got the email that it’s available for pickup – but thanks to the magic of an extremely obliging local book store, I was still able to pick up and read the entire thing before it’s technically released. So score one for buying indie, I guess.

The book is set directly after Network Effect – directly directly, to the point where I needed to look up a plot summary to remind myself what the situation was – following our beloved rogue and rampant SecUnit, ART, and their assorted humans as they try to convince an abandoned and alien-contaminated colony’s inhabitants to trust them and accept evacuation with them (and also go along with the colonial charter they’re forging) rather than the indenture offers the corporate mission also on site are offering. Along the way there’s hacking, shuttle chases, gunfights, and plot-critical media curation.

Mostly though it’s about Murderbot having PTSD (on account of all the horrible trauma in Network Effect specifically, and also just its life generally) and absolutely zero idea how to cope. After a false memory/panic attack makes it crash out of nowhere it spends the majority of the book terrified that it’s going to crash or freeze up at some vital moment and get everyone killed, dealing with constant alien-related paranoia, and generally second-guessing itself and feeling useless and depressed. Absolutely no one around it has any idea how to deal with this, and their awkward attempts to be supporting are both endearing and entirely unhelpful.

Anyway, this is a Murderbot novel. Do you like Murderbot? Then you will like this. Do you not know the series? Then by god start with All Systems Red none of this will make any sense at all without context. Do you dislike murderbot? I mean hateread as you like but it is largely more of the same, don’t expect any series-saving twists for you.

It’s kind of absurd to call the series ‘cozy fantasy’ – by the end of the book SecUnit is down several extremities and bleeding out on the floor (as is traditional by this point) – but I feel like the series fills about the same emotional niche for me as like say Becky Chambers does for people with normal tolerances for low-tension sentimentality. The setting is a horrible dystopia and the plots are full of violence and trauma, but all that is more or less set dressing to stories that are actually about SecUnit making connections and deciding at a tortuously slow pace what sort of life it wants to have (usually several hours after commuting itself without thinking) while consistently running into the best possible friends and forming mutually affectionate relationships it absolutely did not want. It’s a story about fun, low-tension character dynamics, corporate kill teams aside.

I am being entirely sincere when I say the fact that SecUnit has no idea what it wants or what its doing is a selling point. In the same way, the fact that there’s never any real ~breakthrough~ or moment of sudden recovery is absolutely key to the book working. The story closes with it being hopeful and doing better but from any remotely reasonable baseline still being pretty far from ‘okay’ (in much the same way, it is utterly vital to the whole series that it has absolutely zero angst over ‘not being human’ or pinochle syndrome and only cares about ‘not being normal’ insofar as its had to work really hard on some automated scripts for walking and idle motions to pass as human while doing infiltration work).

Anyway, speaking of character dynamics – look, I’ve always been the first to roll my eyes when people complain about not being able to keep tracks or large casts. But every time I open one of these books, I realize I have only the vaguest idea who the vast majority of the (human) supporting cast is. Not really an issue with actually following the story, but I’m absolutely certain I’m missing out on some things.

The non-human supporting cast are great though. ART best spaceship, and I cared significantly more about the colony’s central control computer than any of the actual colonists. I’m like 70% sure this is intentional.

Stepping back, it’s interesting how the series’ setting has evolved over time. In All Systems Red the universe around SecUnit was incredibly broadly sketched, generic sci f playing with space opera and cyberpunk tropes it pretty much relied upon readers already being familiar with. This never exactly stops – especially for the aesthetics and technology, the book has a profound lack of interest in the specifics of what ‘projectile weapons’ look like or how spaceships work beyond the convenience of plot – but as the books go on the world definitely gets more specific and also broader. You can mostly blame ART for this, I think – there’s a definite shift in the tone of the setting when you introduce an institution like the University with power like it can throw around, and more generally make active resistance to and subversion to the corporate status quo a plausible and fruitful endeavour.

All this to say that there’s an offhand mention at one point about ‘intracorporate violence’ increasing and the system being increasingly unstable, and I’m curious what Wells is going to do with that going forward. Especially with the book’s final resolution and the status quo it sets up going forward.

Anyway like I said, it’s murderbot. This is the 7th book in the series. If you’re considering reading it you’ll probably love it.

#book review #system collapse #murderbot #martha wells #sff

[rabbit-harpist]

today i finished the last episode of O Segredo Na Floresta, the second season of Ordem Paranormal, and i never expected to get here.

i’m not okay over the characters and the story. it was an incredible episode and had some of my favorite moments from the entire season. i cried, and that’s really all i can ask from a story.

but! story reactions are not for tumblr (shoutout to the guys of the ordem server who let me liveblog my experience, you’re great). i don’t want to ruin any suprises for anyone if they decide to follow this path. so this is going to be a ramble of a more personal kind.

osnf is 15 episodes, about 3-4 hours each, fully subtitled in english and portuguese by the incredible equipe t. it’s a commitment. it was overwhelming to look at, especially when i started with my only experience watching ttrpgs being the two episodes of quarentena (which rewired my brain. i watched it live and loved it so much but the rest of ordem intimidated me). i had practically no knowledge of portuguese, and had convinced myself that trying to learn it would be impossible so i shouldn’t even begin.

adjusting to the subtitles was hard! i’m eternally grateful for them, but my brain just wasn’t wired to focus on them. i had no connection to the characters yet, and the first two episodes felt slow. it took me months to finish them, a chunk at a time.

the third ep was a turning point—i was invested. i cared about the characters now, and i wanted to follow their story despite the inconvenience. and so i continued, slowly but surely, enjoying it but expecting myself to lose interest at some point as happens with many things.

another change—i had to take a break from the fandom i’d been focused on, and in that time osnf became what i turned to to fill the absence, and then a love of its own. it never seemed to run out—i watched episodes, finding that i’d adjusted enough that i could draw while watching. i lived with the characters, and i listened to them talk, and i discovered that i was understanding more and more.

like! not everything. not much. but some. i could turn the subtitles to portuguese and know what was going on for minutes at a time. it wasn’t much, perhaps, but i’d thought my sadly monolingual self couldn’t even make a start. any progress was exhilarating.

i committed to portuguese duolingo. i started portuguese busuu. i recognized the words and rules i was learning in the episodes. today, the day that i finished osnf, i have a 31 day streak. i’m not used to being able to keep a commitment this long—i used to struggle to get a week on duolingo and my history is littered with half-finished projects. amazingly, this one stuck. i’m proud of finishing all 16 episodes, and i’m proud of the things i’ve learned.

can i understand everything? absolutely not. can i understand more than i used to? yes! and i want to keep learning. osnf was a great experience as a story, but it also opened my eyes to so much more that’s out there.

i’m grateful to cellbit and the team who created ordem, obviously. i’m not over that final episode and i don’t expect to be anytime soon.

but equipe t made this possible for me. you guys are inspirations. obrigada.

#osnf #ordem paranormal #o segredo na floresta

[sarcasmsweetie]

A Better Life, Part 3

Here’s Part 3!! So happy to finally get this out. I also happen to have the day off of work tomorrow, so I think we can expect a quick turnaround for Part 4 :)

Pairing: Azriel X Oldest Archeron Sister

Word count: 4.9k

Taglist: @lunalilyf @londoneyes-glasgowbones @eerievixen @hollyismentallyillhelp @parker-natasha @tbmaybank @poison-iv3 @morks-watermelon

Part 2 | Masterlist | Part 4

I glared at Viviane as she laughed at me. “You’re going to pace a hole right through my rug if you don’t take a deep breath and relax.”

“Relax? I haven’t seen my sister in months. What if she’s disappointed? What if she isn’t impressed with everything I’ve done since I left?” I paused, looking at my fingers as they played with the hem of my sleeve. “What if she doesn’t like who I am?” I whispered, finally voicing the real fear that’s been plaguing me since receiving Feyre’s letter earlier this week to accept my invitation for a visit.

I heard Viviane stand from her chair and walk towards me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, I glanced up to see a kind smile on her face. “How could she possibly find any fault with the glorious female I see standing in front of me?” Keeping her hands on my shoulders, she began taking deep breaths, and I mirrored the action. After a few breaths, I began to feel my heart calm down ever so slightly.

“What would I do without you, Viv?” She smirked, brushing imaginary lint off my shoulders before taking a step back.

“Crash and burn, if we’re being perfectly honest. I mean, look at how much your fashion, at the very least, has improved since meeting me. The Y/N I first met all those months ago certainly wouldn’t have looked this fabulous as the Y/N standing in front of me right now.” I pushed her shoulder with a laugh, secretly agreeing with her. The dress I picked out for today is one of the finest things I own – white with a sheer fabric that covers my shoulders and serves as sleeves. The sheer overlay becomes a powder blue at the waist, growing darker as the fabric reaches the floor. Viviane tried to convince me to add silver gems to the top part of the gown, but I’m not exactly a “gemstone” kind of female, it turns out.

Our laughter died after a moment, and I began to fidget with my sleeve yet again. “Do I really look okay?”

She moved a bit of hair behind my ear and smiled. “Stunning.” I started to take another deep breath, but held it instead as I heard voices approach the sitting room Viviane and I have been in. I turned and looked to her with wide eyes, and she only rolled her own at me. “You will be fine,” she whispered. I watched as she moved to be more central in the room for when Kallias opened the double doors into the room, and I quickly straightened my shoulders and followed.

“We’re all so thrilled to have you visiting us – I know I can speak for Viviane as well when I say this is hopefully not the only fun visit we can have with one another.” Kallias opened the double doors, and behind him followed Feyre and Rhys. My eyes connected with Feyre’s, and I saw hers immediately start to turn silver, and I bit the inside of my cheek to try and prevent tears myself. Viviane stepped forward in welcome, immediately following along with her mate’s train of thought.

“This absolutely is not going to be the only ‘fun’ visit! We have spent so long fighting and rebuilding that we are all owed times to relax and just be ourselves with friends.” Feyre broke eye contact to turn to the Lady of Winter and greet her briefly before Rhys stepped forward to do the same.

I watched as Rhys made small talk with the High Lord and Lady, allowing Feyre the opportunity to break away and approach me. I didn’t realize I also began to move towards her until she was finally within arm’s reach. My gaze roamed over her, checking to make sure she was at least physically well, the habits I’ve built over the years not allowing me to do anything else other than confirm she’s safe and alright. She wore a black gown fitted in the bust, but otherwise loose and flowy. I couldn’t recall this style being worn around the Night Court, but maybe it’s new. My eyes came back up to her face where a small smile rested as she finished looking me over.

“You look wonderful, Y/N .” The weight I felt sitting in my chest vanished the moment I heard her voice, and I took the final step towards her to pull her into an embrace. She immediately wrapped her arms around me, holding on as tightly as I was holding onto her. “Oh, I have missed you,” she whispered and I tightened my grip ever so slightly.

“I am so glad you’re here. I was so afraid after I left, so scared you wouldn’t want to see me again.” Feyre pulled back and looked at me with her ‘stern’ face.

“There will never be a moment where I wouldn’t want to see you.” Her hand came up to rest on the side of my face, thumb rubbing gently along my cheek. “I just wish I could have helped you in the way you needed.” It was my turn to turn a stern gaze onto her.

“How could you possibly have known what I needed when I still don’t know that particular answer? Let’s you and I make a promise right here, right now: we will never try and shoulder the blame for something out of our control. Life is messy, and uncertain, and painful, but we cannot control everything. I hate that more than anything in this world,” Feyre laughed and I smiled, “but I at least have started to accept that unfortunate reality. Makes some days a little easier than others.”

Feyre nodded, silently agreeing to the promise I asked of her. Rhys walked up to us soon after, small smile on his face. “It’s good to see you, Y/N .” I turned and pulled him into a brief hug.

“Thank you so much for coming. I think a little family gathering like this is exactly what I’ve been missing these days.” He held out both arms in invitation to Feyre and I and led us to where Viviane and Kallias moved to sit, tea already on the table.

“I’m honored you consider me to be family.” I pinched his arm before separating myself to take me seat. He hissed slightly, rubbing his arm.

“I’ve always wanted a brother, you know. I can think of no better brother than the one who has saved my dearest sister in more ways than one.” He smiled as he made sure Feyre was settled in her seat before sitting in his own.

I could think of less painful ways to show your appreciation to siblings…” This time, it was Feyre’s turn to smirk.

“Welcome to the world of sisters, darling. Kindness can act as a declaration of war, and mild torture is the highest form of affection.” Feyre winked, and Viviane burst into laughter.

“Oh, yes. We absolutely must do this more often. If there’s ever a time you’re free to come to one of our weekly brunches, you are always welcome.” Feyre and I grinned in response. Keeping conversation light throughout the visit with Viviane and Kallias, I was beyond pleased that these two groups of my life got along so well. I shouldn’t be surprised – it’s not like they’re complete strangers, after all. But knowing these parts of my life were melding so well gave me hope that I could have a future of happiness. _________

The sun started to set beyond the horizon as the sleigh pulled up to my home. Feyre was immediately taken by Fenrir, and he was overly fond of her considering she kept providing him snacks throughout the 20-minute ride. Rhys laughed every time, ensuring Fenrir sent him a side glare before happily munching on whatever treat Feyre passed along.

“You’re right – I can see a bit of Cass in him.” I watched Rhys’ eyes light up as we all stepped out of the carriage. “I can’t wait to tell him there’s a reindeer in the world who could take his place in a heartbeat if he pisses me off too much.” I could practically hear the eyeroll coming from Feyre, but she opted not to comment.

“What can we do to help?” I had already started to unhook Fenrir from his rig as she approached.

“Stand there and look pretty. I just need to finish unhooking Fenrir, and he’s all set here in the stable. Food and water was replenished this morning, but he’ll probably fall asleep somewhat soon considering he spent the day playing with his best friends.” He nuzzled into the crook of my neck as I finished unhooking him, and he walked deeper into the stable where his water resided.

I turned out of the stable, beckoning to Feyre and Rhys to follow along. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” We walked through the front door into the living room that opened up to both the kitchen and dining room. Only the two bedrooms and connecting bathrooms were hidden down a hallway to the left, otherwise the bulk of the cottage was this open space. The walls of the living room were lined with books and various knickknacks I collected while exploring the different courts. A sofa and armchair were placed in front of the fireplace with a few different side tables. Behind the sofa and in front of windows looking over the forest behind my cottage stood a piano that Viviane and Kallias gifted to me when I bought the place. I spent most nights here, figuring out how to play old songs from the human realm while also trying to learn songs I’ve heard since being Made.

The dining room was simple – a table with four chairs, and a small liquor cabinet I bought from Aidon. But the kitchen was my favorite part of the house. Two ovens, a massive ice box, and seemingly endless countertops so I could cook, bake, and create to my heart’s content.

“Your home is lovely, Y/N . The location is nice as well – close to everything without needing to be within everything. One of the many reasons my ancestors built houses in mountains and whatever other oddly isolated spots they could find.”

I chuckled, remembering the House of Wind and the ridiculous 10,000 steps necessary to reach the house if you were unable to fly or winnow. “The perfect kind of home – easily accessible without being easily available.” I moved to the kitchen where they followed along. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have a few bottles of wine, but also Winter Vodka if you’re interested in trying out the delicacies of this court while you’re here.”

“Yes to the wine, and maybe tomorrow for the vodka.” I nodded, turning to look at Feyre to see what her preference would be. I watched as she glanced at Rhys before moving to lean forward against a counter.

“Water for me, please. I don’t think I’ll be able to enjoy wine, or vodka, for a while still.” I narrowed my eyes slightly, looking between the two. Feyre looked a bit nervous, but Rhys was smiling brighter than the sun in Day.

“Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me, little dove?” Feyre turned to Rhys, who pulled a wrapped package from his shadows. They both placed a hand on the gift as they pushed it across the counter to me.

“Open it.” I kept an eye on Feyre as I pulled at the wrapping paper. Once the paper was removed, I looked between the two of them one final time before looking down. The first thing I noticed was that this was definitely painted by Feyre. She pulled in hues of purples and blues to create a field of flowers that looked like they were pulled from both Night and Winter Courts. On the center of the canvas written in black, Feyre added, “Only an aunt can give hugs like a mother, keep secrets like a sister, and share love like a friend” I hugged the canvas to my chest, smiling.

“You’re going to be a mama?” She nodded, tears in her eyes. I ran around the counter, canvas still in hand, as I pulled her into a hug. “My sweet Feyre, you are going to be the best mother this world has ever seen.” She sobbed into my neck, though it also sounded like she released a laugh.

“I’m certainly the biggest crybaby of a mother this world has ever seen. I swear, I’ve cried more these last couple of months than I have my entire life!” I laughed as I pulled back, remembering our mother being incredibly emotional over every little thing when I watched her carrying my sisters.

“Unlucky for us that it runs in the family. The only proof I had of Mother being human was when she was pregnant and would cry at anything, even the sunrise.”

Rhys put his arm around Feyre’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Even when you cry, you’re still the most beautiful creature on this world, darling.” I placed the painting on the counter before turning to the ice box.

“This calls not only for a toast, but champagne. I think I have a bottle in here…” I looked around the shelves before spotting it in the back. “Aha! Rhys, can I hand this to you to open and I’ll get the glasses out?” Popping the champagne open, I placed three glasses in front of him to pour, then turned to fill a glass of water for Feyre. I figured a small sip of champagne for the toast won’t hurt her or the baby, and then she can have her water for the rest of the evening. Whether Rhys read my mind or was simply already thinking the same thing as me, he poured a small amount in one of the glasses before filling the other two.

“For you, ladies.” He passed us the appropriate glasses, and I held mine up in the air.

“When you were young, the greatest love you ever knew came from your family. As you grew, the greatest love you ever knew came from your mate. Today, the greatest love you’ll ever know is for your baby. A toast to you, little dove, and all your greatest loves, forever together as one big family.” _________

The next morning brought us into the city itself, showing Feyre and Rhys where I worked along with some of my favorite places to visit. We stopped in a few different shops where Feyre bought some small trinkets. Rhys said everyone back home made them promise to pick up something unique to Winter, despite the number of times they’ve all come for whatever reasons over the centuries. I smiled, thinking of Mor and Cassian begging Feyre to bring home souvenirs for them. While Feyre shopped for the family back in Velaris, I kept my eyes open for little gifts I could start collecting for my little niece or nephew. I may not have been around a baby for a while, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all the best supplies that parents should stack up on to make baby happy and their lives a little easier. I made mental notes of which stores sold which items so that I could come back when I didn’t have the nosiest new mother and father to be by my side.

One of the stores I had taken Feyre to was one of my favorite art supply stores where I’ve stocked up on tons of yarn and various sized needles for all of the knitting projects I planned out. Little did Feyre know that today’s trip wasn’t merely to stock up on yarn, but to specifically pull materials for her little one’s baby blanket. Feyre’s eye caught onto some brush sets and while she tried to convince herself she didn’t need any more, Rhys strode up to the store owner and purchased them before Feyre could talk herself out of wanting them. I laughed at her appalled look, though we all knew it was just for show.

After a few hours of exploring, we opted to have lunch back at my house so we could set our shopping bags down and rest comfortably for the afternoon after our morning of walking. I urged Feyre and Rhys to rest while I began pulling items from the icebox. I luckily prepared everything for stew before they arrived – all that’s needed is to heat it up. I figured a simple stew would be wonderful at some point during their visit since I know Feyre and Rhys aren’t too accustomed to these temperatures as a norm, so I wanted to make sure they’re comfortable.

“Let me help, Y/N .” I looked up to Feyre watching me, and I shook my head to the stove.

“All that’s needed is to heat this up. Planned this meal ahead of time.” She narrowed her eyes, but after realizing there wasn’t anything for her to do, she hopped up onto the counter next to me. “How is everything back in Velaris?”

“Things are going well. Mor has been traveling more to Vallahan than we expected in order to get them on board with the peace treaty, but that’s becoming more of a challenge than anticipated.”

“If anyone can get someone on board with a treaty, it’s Mor. I’m sure it’s frustrating for her, but I know she’ll pull through.”

“She always does.” I smiled back at Rhys who had just entered the kitchen. Stirring the pot a bit so nothing would stick and burn to the bottom, I turned to face Rhys while leaning on the counter next to Feyre.

“And everyone else? I figured I would have heard if Nesta burned the city to the ground, so I’m assuming no news is good news on that front.”

“She and Cassian have been dancing around each other for a while now, but she has made some pretty great progress with her training. She was against it at first, to no one’s surprise, but now that she knows she’s decent at fighting? The struggle now is getting her out of the training ring instead of into it.”

I chuckled, thinking of our fierce sister against an enemy, knowing her opponent would never stand a chance if Nesta planned on giving her all. “I’m glad she’s able to put her focus into something. She never did well just sitting around.” I stirred the pot a final time, thinking it only needs another minute or two to heat up. “And Elain? How is she?”

Feyre hesitated briefly. I noticed it, but chose not to comment on it. “She’s admittedly not that great. But the gardens help keep her grounded. Rhys and I are actually building a home all our own, and she’s taken it upon herself to plan out the gardens for the new house.”

I nodded, wondering what part of Feyre’s statement to comment on. Taking the cowardly route, I sighed as I pulled bowls from the cabinets. “That’s wonderful you’re building a new house. Knowing you both and your flairs for both style and comfort, I know it will treat you better than any of the other houses Rhys currently has under his name.”

They both chuckled, but I saw Feyre turn her attention to Rhys from the corner of my eye before she cleared her throat. “ Y/N , I need to tell you something.” I glanced up at Feyre, nodding for her to continue as I finished serving our lunches into bowls. “Nesta figured out that Azriel is your mate.” I paused, not at the news, but sensing Feyre had more to say.

“That doesn’t surprise me. When did she find out?”

“The day you left. She confirmed with me later on, but otherwise kept it to herself until earlier this week.”

“What prompted her to say something now? It’s been months.”

Feyre and Rhys looked at each other, and I could tell they were talking through their bond, or maybe their daemati powers. I never knew which, but I suppose it didn’t matter. “After we shared we were visiting, things got… heated. Elain’s been acting out ever since you left, and with the two of us visiting instead of all of our sisters, something was triggered with her. Everyone had enough of her childish behavior by this point, one thing led to another… Before we knew it, Nesta is yelling at Elain. Essentially saying she doesn’t get to have a say in how you choose to live your life since she stole your mate after rejecting her own.” Feyre flinched at the memory and my jaw dropped. Rhys rubbed his chin and offered a sheepish grin.

“She shut the room up real fast after that. Nesta was pretty fierce in defending you, once everyone processed what was really going on. Some more…words…were exchanged, most of which were pretty hurtful and brutal, if I’m honest.” Rhys and Feyre were silent for a moment, reliving the memory. I cleared my throat, debating if I was going to ask it or not, but since we’re here…

“How did he respond?” Feyre’s eyes softened. She took hers and Rhys’ bowls of stew and led me to the table, waiting for me to be settled with my own before responding.

“Not well. He knew about the bond, Y/N . Felt it snap into place the same moment you did.” My head shot up to look at Feyre, my hear breaking all over again. “For whatever reason, he convinced himself it was with Elain. That by her rejecting Lucien, it opened her up to the possibility of a different mate.”

“Rhys told me that’s not possible. You don’t get a second mate,” I said slowly. Rhys nodded in agreement, grief in his eyes. “So you’re telling me that he’d rather believe in some bullshit lie, would rather believe that someone who could never be his mate was all his, instead of even considering the possibility that the bond snapped in place with the only other soul in the room that day?” I stood from my seat and began pacing around the room. “You’re telling me that my mate has wanted nothing to do with me from the very beginning; that my mate would rather live out his life with someone else instead of acknowledging me?” I moved to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Opening the bottle, I took a deep drink.

Feyre hurried over to me, placing a hand on my wrist. “Wouldn’t you rather have something inf your stomach first?” I looked at her for a moment before taking another drink.

I heard Rhys sigh before he moved next to us, reaching for a bottle himself. “I can’t possible leave a lady to drink on her own. Sorry to leave you as a babysitter, darling.” Feyre snorted, but otherwise didn’t say anything else. I sat myself down onto the floor, taking a few more sips as I processed what was shared with me. I know I don’t have the full story – I’m certain there was much more said than what is being shared with me. Yet I felt as if I knew enough.

“He tried to –“ I raised my hand, effectively cutting Feyre off.

“No more talk until I’m drunk. I think it’s the only way I can handle it right now.” Feyre sighed, but Rhys sat next to me on the floor, clinking his bottle with mine.

About two or so hours passed, and Feyre respected my wish to be drunk before starting up the conversation again. We had moved into the living room by this point, and I was sprawled over my armchair, having gotten through about a third of the bottle. “Rhys caught him twice trying to come to Winter to see you, talk to you.” I snorted.

“Like that would have done him any good. I don’t even know what’s going on in my own head most of the time – I’m not ready to hear his mumbo jumbo excuses.” I took another sip before getting up and bringing the bottle with me to the piano. “Did you know I’ve been teaching myself old songs from the human realm, little dove?” I sat at the piano, lifting the cover over the keys. “I hoped maybe remembering those songs, singing them as loud as I possibly could, would help my heart stop hurting so much. But no matter what I do, it keeps hurting.”

I set the bottle on the floor next to the bench and started lightly pushing at the keys. “I’ve been talking with Lucien, y’know? Try and get a sense of any tricks he may have to get past the burning hollowness. He unfortunately has no such tricks to share with me, but we did start a pretty nice friendship. We get together once a month to drink and cry over what could be.” I chuckled. “Let’s be real – I cry. He tries to stay stoic, especially since Viv and Kallias have taken it upon themselves to babysit us during these visits considering how much we drink and whine. But I think he’s finally loosening up around them.” I continued to softly play the piano, thinking back on some conversations I’ve had with the redhead. “I’m glad I reached out to him. No one else gets it, y’know? I know you’re always in my corner, little dove, but it's hard. It’s hard to try and explain what I’m going through to someone who is so happy.”

“We weren’t always happy like this.” I looked at Rhys, vaguely remembering the time Feyre was with Tamlin, completely unaware of Rhys’ feelings for her. I felt my shoulders droop at the memory.

“It’s so easy to forget that there were times you weren’t together. I completely forgot about Tamlin…” Rhys laughed loudly at that.

“Imagine how easy life would be if we could all forget about Tamlin.” Feyre smacked Rhys across the chest, though that did nothing to quell his laughter. To try and change the conversation, Rhys looked back over at me. “You say you’ve been practicing old songs from the human realm? Would you sing something for us? Feyre told me about how you would always sing her to sleep when you were younger, and I’ve been hoping to hear it for myself.” My fingers moved around the keys for a moment, thinking about which song to do.

Don’t know what to do anymore I’ve lost the only love worth fighting for And I’ll drown in my tears Don’t they see? That would show you That would make you hurt like me

All the same I don’t want mud-slinging games It’s just a shame To let you walk away

Is there a chance A fragment of light At the end of the tunnel A reason to fight? Is there a chance You may change your mind Or are we ashes and wine?

Don't know if our fate's already sealed This day's a spinning circus on a wheel And I'm ill with the thought of your kiss Coffee-laced, intoxicating on her lips

Shut it out I've got no claim on you now I'm not allowed To wear your freedom down, no

Is there a chance A fragment of light At the end of the tunnel A reason to fight? Is there a chance You may change your mind Or are we ashes and wine?

I'll tear myself away If that's what you need There is nothing left to say

But, is there a chance A fragment of light At the end of the tunnel A reason to fight? Is there a chance You may change your mind Or are we ashes and wine? Reduced to ashes and wine Or are we ashes?

Feyre had moved from the sofa to sit on the bench with me, resting her head on my shoulder as I sang. It was an old one I remember hearing when Mother was still alive. Funny how you can hear a song growing up and not understand what it means, until suddenly one day, it all clicks.

“I don’t remember that one,” she whispered. I turned my head slightly, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“It’s an old one. I first heard it long before you were born, little dove.” She was quiet for a moment before speaking up, almost as if recalling the lyrics.

“Is this what it feels like for you?” I shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t using.

“Right now, yes. Most days, it hurts a lot more. The ‘shut it out’ line was sort of my motto when I was still in Velaris – shut everything down so that you don’t have to feel anything at all. We’ve gotten past that numbness, though there certainly are days I wish I could pull that over me like a blanket, just rise through the day hiding and not feeling a thing.”

The room was quiet for a moment. Too quiet. I began to play again, smirking down at Feyre. “I vote that the next song be a bit more upbeat, yeah? Remember the shanties father used to sing whenever he’d come home from traveling to some far-off land?”

Feyre and I laughed at Rhys, who stood and started hopping around as if he were dancing a jig to the opening of the first shanty I began to play. Surprisingly enough, he knew the lyrics as well.

While I still felt the hollowness in my chest after the first song, it began to feel a bit lighter, singing raunchy shanties with my sister and her mate. I don’t remember a time I laughed so much in such a small window, and despite the amount of vodka I’ve consumed, I knew this would be a night I could never forget.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar #bri's writing

[bookish-bogwitch]

Hi.

I haven’t really used this blog much for personal, non-fandom stuff, but thought I’d share an update. CW: mental health and depression.

This past winter I hit the rock bottom what was, in hindsight, a major depressive episode that I’d been experiencing for years. I had no energy, no ability to connect wanting to do something with actually doing it. I was crying all the time and hating myself.

I had a job that I’d once loved—public defense—but that after twelve years had taken its toll. The traumas had started outweighing the triumphs. Between that, and becoming a caretaker for a disabled family member, and random brain chemistry, I’d been on a mostly downward spiral since before the pandemic started.

If I came across as upbeat, it’s because fandom was the one place I could still tap into playfulness and joy. I’d crack myself up online while walking around with a flat affect. There’s nothing wrong with using a hobby to cheer yourself up, but it was such a sharp contrast.

And then there was the doomscrolling. It’s just bad for my brain. The pornbot boondoggle drove this home because I was spending hours a day on here and feeling proportionately crazed. (Note to past self: yes you’re very clever, here’s a pat on the head, but two days of pornbots would’ve been just as funny as twelve.) By the time it ended I was falling apart. Something had to give. I changed my Tumblr password to a random key smash and logged out.

But fandom isn’t bad for mental health just because social media is. I am doing so, so, so much better now, and I credit a lot of it to this fandom. Quitting public defense was scary because my whole identity was bound up in being a public defender--but now I know I’m also a writer. My closest friends had previously been my work friends, and I didn’t know if those relationships would survive if I left--but I knew my fandom friendships would.

Fandom also helped more directly too, by connecting me with friends who all but literally held my hand while I cried and looked for a therapist. Who shared their experiences of depression and recovery and antidepressants. Who cheered on my job hunt, which I couldn’t share with IRL friends until I was ready to give notice. You guys know who you are and I love you.

(Also, shoutout the CO trilogy itself and especially AWTWB for convincing me that it's okay to feel overwhelmed. It would be too much for anyone.)

Between quitting my old job and starting an antidepressant, it’s felt like flipping a switch. I have energy that I thought I'd just lost as part of the aging process. The new job is occasionally interesting, never dramatic, and completely harmless. It feels vaguely useful but never essential. It feels getting forklift certified after being at war. I love it.

Anyhoo. I’ve been putting off coming back on Tumblr. Even though I’ve had countless genuine, loving interactions on here, I really don’t know if I can have a healthy relationship with the hellsite. I’m writing again and want to share my stuff and cheer you on, but moderation is not my strength. Maybe I’ll try some WIP tagging to see if that feels possible to do occasionally and not obsessively.

Social media is the worst, but you are the best. I’m bbbogwitch on discord—reach out any time. Especially if you’re struggling with depression or helping-profession burnout or caretaker blues. You’re not alone.

#personal #non-fandom #update #mental health #depression #burnout #public defense #seriously i am doing great now #love you guys

[indelicateink]

did lestat share the same cord with nicki like he does with louis? Do all vampire maker/fledglings share a special cord between them?

Okay, first of all: I love you.

irl i have just had one of the most shit-tastic life-altering apocalyptic weeks of my life, and this weekend a coronary event may well catch up to me from stress, sleep-lack, and absent appetite. BUT. here you are with this gentle lovely ask allowing me to think about something outside of the hell i find myself in and i am kissing you, kissing you on the forehead

oh man The Cord.

i am also really curious what they meant about that, it was so cleverhorrible to write it in like that with no chance of explanation immediately following. i’m of several minds about this and it’s hard for me to reconcile them, but.

I want to say my current guess is that lestat thinks it’s real for all vampires (maker & fledgling). however.

okay, in literal terms he may just be referencing the stuff in later books about amel (is it amel? i’m operating on 3 h of sleep, i throw myself on the mercy of the reader) and how all vampires share that thread etc. perhaps he learned of it from his time with marius, or possibly from akasha if there was some telepathic exchange there or…w/e.

no idea why going off on that would be among his last words when he’s expecting louis to murder him. but i kinda feel they wedged in the Those Who Must Be Kept line earlier in the most awkward unnatural way ever, so. who knows.

that’s less interesting to me! because when he said that to louis here at the end of their relationship, with louis about to cut his throat, and lestat not begging him for clemency but desperately alluding to an invisible bond between them, it is real, it is real? it just ruthlessly hits aaaaaaalllll my favorite tropes about soul bonds and soulmates and intimate connections, and my logic flies out the window, i just want them to do something with that. the poetry of that. the implications, a bit of warning.

did he share a cord with nicki?

I wonder if lestat thinks he did. i don’t suspect he especially did share a cord with him.

i am not ruling out the writers making up something whole cloth with this cord thing. bc makers cannot telepathically hear their fledglings in canon, but there have been some weird incidents in amc iwtv maybe contradicting that, so i’m full of uncertainty. so possibly lestat is referring to a real thing that hasn’t been introduced yet, but if not—

—i think lestat had a really traumatic time at the end with nicki. in the course of their relationship he loved him intensely, everything went to hell, then he hated him intensely. the guilt was tremendous. I’m currently convinced his cord conviction comes from vague GENERAL cord shit marius told him (or akasha, or god possibly the twins who knows). (what i love about the vampires is that they barely know their own history or wtf is going on, jesus) And that lestat retroactively applied that cord knowledge in his mind to whatever trauma he experienced with nicki, and the grief and guilt after. you made nicki but you don’t have some invisible cord binding you two to each other, lestat. that’s just normal grief and trauma you’re experiencing.

(I’ll be annoyed if they try to play it like lestat was haunted by visions of nicki after nicki’s death the way louis may be shown to be haunted by visions of lestat in europe. no, go away with that lol.)

(i will be even more annoyed if louis is haunted by visions of lestat and it turns out not to be louis being majorly delulu and in psychosis but instead lestat able to tap into his mind in some way from across the ocean. no. i want the angst of louis desperately unhinged all on his own. home-grown hallucinations. I KINDA DIGRESS.)

because i am ride or die for stories about soul bonds soulmates etc, i am very personally like, fuck the idea of a nicki bond! their relationship was not The One. that would be Louis and Lestat.

I stan the louis-and-lestat cord. if i had my druthers, it would not be overwhelmingly about the fledgling-maker aspect of it, but rather more colored by the off-the-hook intensity of the love they had for each other. when a maker-fledgling are that enmeshed with each other, compounded by the supernatural vampirism of it all, there is an intense cord that develops. maybe lestat was more cognizant of its existence because he’s more powerful, and more educated about it. so that’s my fantasyland brainstorm on it. i would love to hear other opinions/theories on this.

eh, maybe everyone shares a cord to some degree, i’m really flexible on this rn. BUT MY HEART WANTS OTHER THINGS.

#anon may your crops always be watered and your complexion clear and your cup full #i hope this was in some way cogent but thank you for the opportunity #holy shit this is long

[ginzburgjake]

something something a snippet from my space robots au…

Izzy leaves Queen Anne after some *stuff* going down with the arrival of Stede.

His model is old, and his processor is basically dying, but Izzy won’t trust anyone who isn’t him to perform repairs because it would require Izzy being turned off without a possibility of observing what is being done to his body. He at last blacks out in a shitty flat and is found by the crew of Revenge (Stede and Ed included), who have been trying to locate him. They stumble onto him when the apartment’s owner is dragging his body into trash.

After Izzy is repaired by Roach and comes to on the ship (very surprised to have woken up at all), he, Stede and Ed have a Talk.

“You knew, didn’t you,” Stede says, startling Izzy out of his thoughts. It becomes clear he intends to provide an explanation for Ed as well. “If there’s a risk of malfunction, a notification will appear days, even weeks in advance,” he points at his own temple. “You expected this to happen and simply didn’t tell us.”

“How’d you know this?” Ed asks, bewildered, then turns to Izzy. “Is that true?”

So we’re doing this, Izzy thinks bitterly.

“It is,” he replies, staring directly at Stede. “Will you tell him how you know this, Bonnet?”

If Stede does not come clean now, Izzy won’t expose him. It will serve no purpose, and will only upset Edward. He’s lost all chances of being with his Captain, so maybe Stede can become a sufficient alternative. But, before Izzy can further entertain this train of thought, Stede speaks up unexpectedly.

“I will,” he says with a determined look in his eye, then turns to Ed. Izzy is too stunned to say anything or warn Stede about the possible consequences. “Ed, darling, you see — there’s something I didn’t tell you. I, myself, am an android.”

Ed stares.

“Dickfuck, no, you’re not,” he blurts out. He looks at Izzy for confirmation, or maybe support, but Izzy’s words fail him. Ed frowns. “Iz is an android, and he’s all rigid, and stubborn, and technical. And you’re — you…” he gestures to all of Stede emphatically.

Stede looks down, smiling self-depricatingly.

“Ah, yes, me and Izzy are very different. But it is not due to one of us being human when the other is not. Rather, it’s an effect of our personalities clashing,” he then raises his head at Edward. “I’m very sorry, dear. I’ve never intended to hide something so big from you, it’s just — where I come from, androids are seen merely as objects, and you’re — the most wonderful human being I’ve ever met. I didn’t want for our connection to be cut short because of what I am.”

There’s a pregnant pause, during which Stede seems to become more distressed, and Izzy is almost ready to interfere on his account (the fuck?) in case Ed is going to reject him.

“Stede…” Ed takes his hands in his own. “Fuck, I — I don’t give a damn, okay? You can be a robot, or — or a walking fridge, for all I care, and I still would be here right now. I’ve seen many fucking fridges, but you — there was only ever one of you.”

“Oh, Ed…” Stede looks like he would’ve cried if he was capable of doing so. “It is so kind of you.”

They lock their gazes and seemingly exchange a lifetime of words in a span of seconds. Izzy coughs, self-aware.

Stede snaps out of the quiet romantic bubble. “Oh, I do apologise. We seem to have gotten a tad distracted.”

Izzy itches to get away. He’s clearly imposing. Just a broken tool that Ed picked back up out of a misplaced obligation — or, perhaps, because Stede convinced him that Izzy’s non-existing feelings were hurt.

“I’m… regretful. About leaving without permission,” Izzy says.

“Why’d you do it?” Ed asks, frowning. He must be feeling betrayed.

“I didn’t think there was any benefit in keeping an old malfunctioning android on board when you have so many newer models around,” Izzy replies truthfully. He doesn’t, however, mention his mixed opinions about and frustration with the crew, or Bonnet, or Edward. It’s not important now.

“The fuck do you mean? You’re my First Mate. We’re friends. Right?” Ed gazes at Izzy, sounding unsure.

“Are we?” Izzy says, starting to get angry despite his better judgment. “I wasn’t fucking aware. You didn’t even think I had an identity until Bonnet of all people spelled it out for you.”

“That’s not true,” Ed argues. “I’ve always considered you a person, Iz. Please, tell me you understand?”

Izzy doesn’t, not really. Hell, he himself isn’t completely certain whether he is a person or not. He just knows that he is fucking tired of being treated akin to a stool, or a writing desk, or a fucking maintenance bot. Ten years of service, forty years of battle missions before that, and all it takes to break him is fucking — seeing other androids, like Spriggs and Bonnet, being treated by humans as equals. With respect. With no prejudice. Like they have the same rights as any other anthropomorphic creature.

It took Izzy fifty years alive to find out he has a sense of self. Shitting fucking fuck.

Stede looks at him with an understanding written across his face. “We’ve made a lot of mistakes and poor calls these past few weeks. How about we try from the beginning?” he clears his throat. “Ahem. Hello, Izzy, I am Stede Bonnet — an android made five years ago that ran away to pursue a life of piracy and freedom. Nice to meet you.”

Izzy sighs, flicking his gaze between Ed and Stede. If starting over means he will get to stay besides Ed, even after everything, he is ready to try. “Israel, battle model IZ-1701. First Mate of Queen Anne.”

“And I’m — Edward Teach, ship’s Captain. And I — want to do better.”

Stede smiles encouragingly at the both of them, and for the first time this month, Izzy thinks that maybe — just maybe — things will turn out alright.

#our flag means death #our flag means fanfic #ofmd au #ofmd #ofmd fic #stede bonnet #edward teach #izzy hands #edward x stede #pre-steddyhands????? #steddyhands #space pirates #most unorthodox space adventures of the biggest morons in the universe #izzy’s grappling with a sense of identity #emotions are hard #stede is trying to be supportive #ed is a dumbass

[arkasyl18120]

Words of love from love:

I know that love is not easy. If you want me to be vulnerable, I will be.

To me, dating you is kind of important. Why? Because I don’t date people just to date. Because I love being single. Because when I left back my broken pieces I never believed that there will be one day that I won’t date my past. When I date you, I date as a new version of myself. So, I feel new right next to you. And I love new.

What I don’t love, is silence. I appreciate comfort and peace but I want to feel connected with you. Because why on earth, someone you care about wouldn’t want to be connected with you?

Taking this into consideration, I’m more okay with the possible outcome of being nothing to you, rather than being something, because I actually want to be everything.

When I’m talking to you, I don’t try to sell myself because to be honest, there’s no point in doing that. I won’t try to convince someone to value me because that would mean that I don’t value myself. What you need to know is that I am high on loyalty. I won’t play games, I won’t cheat. I will respect you and I value you. Why? Because I value myself and my choices. People cheat because they don’t understand the significance of their freedom of choice.

Lastly, I believe that the most beautiful kind of love is the free love. I want to love you in such a way that my love will give you wings to fly, said Frida Kahlo, even away from me. But I will also give you myself in order to return by free willingness back to me.

That’s the truth. My truth. And it sets me free.

-Α. Π

#greek #greek quotes #ελληνικα #arkasyl18120 #ελληνικά #quotes #ελληνικα ρητα #greek posts #α.π #γρεεκ #γρεεκ κουοτς #α. π #αγαπη #κουοτς

[beepboop358]

I just finished reading the byler powerpoint and honestly it scared the crap out of me. The past few weeks I have been trying to fully convince myself that Byler was never going to happen and we were just being queer baited. It has been partially a way to protect myself and prepare myself for the disappointment of it not happening. I am determined to not get my hopes up and then look like a clown come volume 2 when byler doesn’t happen. And then I read through your beautiful slide show. And I am not doing okay because it has fully convinced me that Byler has been planned from the beginning and is destined to happen. And now I’m completely terrified because I am no longer protected from the possibility of it not happening. I am praying that you are right and I feel like all the evidence you listed cannot all be a coincidence. But I’m just so used to being disappointed and my ships not becoming canon. It doesn’t help that everyone outside of tumblr basically acts like us byler shippers are delusional. So I just wanted to inform you of the way you changed my life and let you know I will personally hold you accountable and sue for emotional damages if byler does not happen. But in all honesty, Im sending lots of love your way. I do know that even if Byler doesn’t happen I will only survive it because I know I’ll have the other byler shippers to commiserate with. 💜💜💜

hello!!

I totally understand you wanting to protect yourself from getting your hopes up so you aren't disappointed if it doesn't happen, I know that feeling very well LOL. Thank you so much for reading the slides and I am so glad you like them!! I'm also sorry for removing your protection LOL. I've been disappointed some of my fav queer ships didn't happen in other shows before too, but some have happened and byler feels like those to me :) And there's just so much evidence! LOL, loved that little bit about holding me accountable ahahaha, I'm going to start saying that to people ahaha :) And also thanks for the love ❤️, sending some back to you as well! And whatever happens, you're totally right we will still have the wonderful byler community <33 (although I would bet money that we win 🥰)

Thanks for sending this, I really enjoyed reading it. You guys have no idea idea how much it warms my heart to hear you guys say you love these slides and to hear you talk about them <3 I just love that they've become something we can all connect and bond over 🥰 I think that's really cool and amazing and beautiful 💕

I hope you're well! xx

[placesyoucallhome]

Trying to figure out what it is I need for a character to keep a hold on an alt, psychoanalyzing myself because some alts I dig my claws into and others I start out strong then just lose them entirely--

And I think it has to do with interaction. And I don’t necessarily mean ships or getting asks about them, I mean in a general ‘they have to feel like a part of a fuller world’. Despite not actually rping with Canum much I don’t feel the need to change him out with someone new, because he’s an established part of a bigger network of characters, even when I’m solo writing him he can interact with Ruhka or Lark or his own small set of npcs. Same of course goes for Lark or Al or Ruhka’s retainers, or the hrothgar lady I have plans for. The same can’t be said for Emyr, or Tristan, or really any other alt I make, and that’s the most damning difference.

Like that one post about writing I see every once in a while, ‘are you a descriptive writer or a dialog writer?’ I’m very much a dialog writer, I can’t write purple prose for shit, and I’m actually really self conscious about my writing because of it. But I feel more at home in writing characters interacting with each other, I actually really like rping multiple characters at a time.

I guess the easiest fix would be looping everyone into Ruhka’s sphere of influence, which is easier for characters on Mateus I think but it also sort of limits what sorts of characters that makes sense with. The other option would be getting that alt into an rp fc or other interaction heavy scene where they can make their own network of connections, which I think I prefer but I don’t know that I can promise myself to an fc that will expect time heavy obligations. If I can find a far more laid back one, perhaps.

There’s also the fact that I really just prefer rping certain personalities and character archetypes, though I can write a far broader spectrum than that. And ships specifically I just want to see the other character in some way with regularity, if the other writer doesn’t like their own character enough to post or write about them once in a while I can’t imagine the ship being written is any important to them either. I know not everyone writes or interacts with their characters the same way, and what I perceive isn’t necessarily the truth, but it’s healthier to try and find people that are closer to the same wavelength as you rather than stretch and stress yourself out to reach another. You can admire a writer and still not be compatible collaborators and that’s fine.

I feel like as I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten pickier, or maybe I’m just learning to stick up for myself a little. Sometimes characters mesh but people don’t. Sometimes people mesh but characters or writing styles don’t. Sometimes walking away is the better course than starting a fight. Sometimes you have to defend yourself. I don’t know. I don’t really know where I was going with this either to be honest. I guess just to convince myself it’s okay to step back and figure out what I want out of the characters I have available to me.

Between Mateus and Balmung I have 5-6 toons that could be fantasia’d into something else, or otherwise tweaked to be something easier for me to rp, some have never been characters to begin with I’ve just been collecting event items on them and the like, keeping them in auxiliary basically. So I may poke and prod at a few ideas, as I’ve been doing lately anyways. I feel like one may just be Ruhka 2.0, a version of him with a little softer backstory and less money lmao. I’ve had a mind to make a more open engineer, and possibly a treasure hunter, but Ruhka does need a healer/magic user on hand so I may try that too. I suppose we’ll see.

#Quite a lot of rambling #between batches of cookies #thoughts ive been juggling but dont wanna throw at people for fear of annoying them #so open at your own risk I guess

[rustedskyprisms]

I don’t know why this had to be my life. I don’t know why I had to be born with so much wrong with me, I don’t know why I had to be born in an area that is so behind and so close-minded, I don’t know why I’ve had to be so alone. I don’t think I should keep doing this though, I know that. It’s not worth it. I’m in so much pain and I’m getting nothing out of being alive. I think this could be different if I had someone in my life, whether that was a friend or a partner or something, I don’t know. But I don’t. I don’t have anyone at all. I have been so, so isolated for the past six years as well. I can’t do this anymore.

I wish I could develop religious or spiritual beliefs, because I think it would actually be really beneficial for me. I’d always feel like someone/something is there, but I’ve never been able to convince myself of anything like that.

I wish I felt better about myself, but I can’t convince myself that I’m good, that I’m okay, that I’m acceptable as a person. It feels like too much of a lie, because I know I’m not. I know that I’ve just been a loser for years, and that’s probably all I’m capable of ever being.

I don’t feel like I should be here. I don’t feel like I should be in this world at all. I’ve been trying to leave it since I was a kid-that’s all I’ve ever wanted. It really does feel like there was some kind of mix up.

Yes, there are things about being alive that are positive, but it’s not enough. I’m too far gone for anything to be truly helpful. I wish I wasn’t so afraid of the possibilities of what can happen after death, so I could just get it over with already. I wish I could know if you’re actually at peace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s all I’ve ever wanted since I was young.

It has always been incredibly painful for me to be alive. Everything just hurts me more than it seems to hurt other people. And I’ve been made to feel bad about that. I’m so easy to step on, I’m so easy to just take down. You don’t even have to try.

There is nothing more pleasant than when my head just shuts off, when it’s just blackness, and I can barely even think. There is seriously nothing better in the world than that. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Nothing matters. Nothing exists. I barely even exist. I’ve wanted to get rid of my physical self for as long as I can remember; I have no connection to it. I have no connection to anything that is supposed to matter to me.

I wish I could figure out why I’m here. I don’t think I’m here just because I was born; I really do believe there’s more to life than that. And I’m trying to figure out if this was like a choice I made, or what. I’m aware that doesn’t make rational sense, but, I don’t know, I’m just trying to make sense of all of this. I wish there was something or someone that could give me guidance, or something. I just want to get an idea of what the point of any of this is.

There’s nothing anyone can tell me that helps, I do know that. Because nothing anyone says changes anything about my situation. Nothing anyone says allows me to leave my house the way I’d like to, nothing anyone says makes the OCD less severe, nothing anyone says brings better people into my life. And for some reason, in terms of how awful I feel about my appearance and all that, it really does not matter what anyone else says that goes against it. I have known I’m fat and ugly since I was a kid. I wish I had it in me to actually put effort into changing that, but for some reason, I never have. Again, because it just feels like something I can’t do. Like…I just cannot care about my physical self in that way. There’s some kind of disconnect there; there always has been.

There’s just a major disconnect between the rest of the world and me, with everything. And it really, really feels like I shouldn’t be here. I feel like I’m not even a human.

[catwings-writes-things]

I can’t pick one so-

Monsters ball, Toy soldiers, We have heard (all or pick one, up to you)

*deep sigh* answered below the cut, because succinct answers are, as always, beyond me. (To be clear, Anon, the sigh is directed at myself for not being able to stop talking, not at you.)

Monsters Ball:

Jon is still mostly in what the hell mode when he realizes that this bizarre nonentity has a human guest in tow.

She’s short, with light skin and long, dark brown hair, and young—distressingly young. Without his powers informing him (unasked, naturally) that she’s twenty-two, Jon couldn’t swear to her being out of her teens.

Of course, the fear in her darting eyes, the nervous tapping of her fingers against the outside of her leg, her gaunt frame, and the hungry set of her jaw probably aren’t helping in that department.

“I asked you a question,” Elias hisses in Jon’s ear.

“Right.” Jon reaches out, feeling even more rotten. That woman is more than likely in the same position he is.

He shakes it off. She’s not his responsibility. His team are.

The London Monsters Ball is an annual social and diplomatic event in the British paranormal community, and you never know who’s going to show up. One year, a long-established London vampire and a recent arrival from Transylvania both show up to the ball, both with their half-turned fledglings in tow. Jon and Mina are in no position to do anything but silently commiserate, but they don’t forget.

At the Monsters Ball the year after that, the two meet again as full vampires, both having killed their sires (with some help from their human partners and their friends, human and otherwise), both hoping to find the other and help them, if they can. Instead, they decide to work together on defusing the pervasive legacies of dark magic and cursed places their respective sires left on the world.

Or, the urban fantasy TMA/Dracula crossover no one asked for.

Toy Soldiers:

“Michael Crew?” Harriet asked.

Michael frowned. “Who are you?”

“Harriet Fairchild. May I come in?” She smiled politely at him.

A flicker of recognition crossed Michael’s face at her last name, and he carefully schooled his face back to neutral before smiling back, thin and tight. If Harriet didn’t miss her guess, Michael wasn’t sure why she was here and was trying to remain prepared for any possibility, from a friendly overture to an attempt to eliminate a competitor. Smart.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said after a pause that had stretched on a bit too long, in a polite, friendly tone clearly intended to be disarming. “Where are my manners?” He backed up a few steps. “Come on in. And you can call me Mike, by the way.”

Jailbreak Mike and Harriet’s first meeting (which, fun fact, I wrote just before I even got the idea for A World of His Own, and one of the major contributors to the creation of the Jailbreak verse was just how deeply and immediately I fell in love with their dynamic. Even if at this point they’re both still half-expecting the other to start trying to kill them at any moment). Harriet’s here as a representative of the Fairchild family, offering Mike a chance to join. Mike is going to need a little (okay, a lot) more information, and some convincing. Overcoming Mike’s hesitation at the idea of connecting himself to other people in any way not strictly necessary won’t be easy, but luckily, Harriet’s up to the task.

We Have Heard:

For anyone who’s read what I’ve posted so far of De Humani Corporis Fabrica… remember this paragraph?

[Angela] hoped she wasn’t about to listen to [Mike] die a horrible death. Not that she objected to horrible deaths on principle, but she was rather fond of this short, scrawny, hunted teenager. From what he’d told her, he’d survived experimenting with at least two Leitners, managed to track her down with only a vague knowledge of the effects of Powers and some clues in a newspaper, and knocked on her door to ask questions very shortly after finding what was left of one of her victims. While in her home, he’d cheerfully joined her in assembling a jigsaw puzzle after she’d told him what it did, watched in awed fascination rather than horror as she operated her meat grinder, calmly helped her prepare meat pies from her own severed arm with a finger tucked in each and invite some poor sap in for dinner, happily eaten his pie along with her while they’d waited in a hum of delighted anticipation for their guest to bite down on bone and realize what he was eating, and laughed nearly as loudly as she had when the fool had blanched, looked in horror from her to Mike and back again, jumped up from the table, and fled with a panicked cry.

This is that fic. I don’t think I need to say anything else.

(And yes, the title is a really, really bad pun on the title of a Christmas carol. Angels We Have Heard on High, if you’re wondering. Told you it was bad.)

Thank you for the ask, anonymous friend! Best!

#my writing #the jailbreak verse #jailbreak mike and harriet #jailbreak mike and angela #asks and answers #anonymous

[noyasaur]

hi!! so i’m shifting to a seventeen dr as a producer but one of the main plot points i set was that we would be an anonymous kpop group, without a management company (like a doing it for fun kinda thing) mainly cause of how brutal the industry was and how much the ode to you concert affected them. but i felt so guilty for doing that cause i felt like they wouldn’t live up to the same potential that they did here even if i scripted that they did

for a long while i was convincing myself that it was ok because no matter what i did to my script, that reality would exist anyway, but that mentality is kinda failing me now 😞

i really don’t want to shift with that mindset cause i feel like it would affect my relationship with them and i’m shifting there for friendship more than anything else. what should i do :(

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

hihi anon! i'll try my best to answer your questions and give you adequate advice. however, i don't know too much about seventeen so i hope my advice will be up to par with what you need😭 and i apologise if it doesn't :(

i completely understand where you're coming from. i understand your guilt and your feelings are totally valid. however, i think it's important to let some things sink in and realise that there's no need for you to feel guilty and it's completely okay to do this!

for one thing, realise that this reality isn't the 'original' reality of all realities. i feel that sometimes these feelings of guilt or wrong that come from 'changing' things that have happened in this reality and shifting to experience otherwise in other realities can feel uncomfortable. it can sometimes stem from subconsciously feeling like this reality is the only 'real' or 'original' reality. that whatever happens in this reality, since for many, it's the reality they first remember being aware of, is the 'canon' (yes, i am using this term) of all realities. and of course, along with not wanting to discredit their hard work and success.

accept that this reality isn't any different from other realities. not does it hold any importance over other realities, nor is it a 'canon' reality. the events that happen here, are not any more real or un-real, then what happens in other realities too. every single reality is the same. additionally, there are infinite realities, so of course there is a reality where they would still live up to their potential (and possibly even bigger) without going through all those hardships. yes, you're right, those realities would exist anyway, but let yourself accept that it's okay. accept this fact.

all realities are held at the same importance of each other. and try to think of the positives: in your dr, it is most definitely possible for them to reach up to their potential like they have in this reality, and even be bigger and more successful without them going through all those hardships. you would be able to grow with the members and see them in much happier states and selves than they are here, without having to deal with the brutality of the industry and all the hardships they've faced. just because they haven't faced any of these same hardships, doesn't mean they won't be as successful nor will it discredit their hard-work.

often, a downside of being in this reality is that we equate hardship and suffering with success and realism. that to be successful, we have to suffer. for realities to be 'realistic', we have to add in suffering and hardships. but the reality is, realism does not equal any of that. groups can be reach success without suffering. groups can grow up to their potential without needing to go through many hardships and troubles. realities already exist out there where groups have reached the same success, or to be even bigger, without certain events happening, because there are infinite realities.

and think of what a beautiful experience it would be in your dr, without any of that. just a group of people with an amazing connection and bond, making music together and doing what they love, while reaching great fame, success and heights! all together.

in the multiverse and speaking of other infinite realities, since everything exists, there is no 'canon.' there is nothing that states or says what a straight definition of 'realistic' should be.

so please let yourself accept that with infinite realities, anything is possible. nothing in any reality is any more 'real' than any other reality. everything is real. everything isn't real. everything is held of equal importance, and there is no reality that is any more real or original than any other reality. every reality IS real.

and try to think of the positives! try and think of how you will be spending your journey to success with such amazing people, think of the great and deep bond you will all have! i know it can be hard, but try and make a list of all the positive things about your dr, and how you won't have to se any of the members suffer because of the industry and their company. think of the members and how the difference in these events will impact them positive :) try and see things from a positive light!

since you think that having this current mindset will affect your relationship with them, try and work on these things and come to a moment of acceptance. accept these things and don't put this reality on a pedestal. realise that this reality isn't any more 'real' than any other realities, and it does NOT determine what is real and what isn't. try affirming these things to yourself and normalise this fact. and of course, focus on the positives! rather than focusing on the negatives, think of all the positive things that will come of a result! (and remember, your doubts and worries will only affect things if you let them and give them any power!) and this time when trying to make a change in your mindset, don't just try and convince yourself of these things; accept them.

i truly wish you all the best luck and you got this! your members are going to be very lucky to have you as a member alongside them, and i wish you guys all the best and more! good luck on your shifting journey and you got this! (♡˙︶˙♡)

- saturn ♡

#shiftblr #shifting #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting realities #reality shifter #shifting blog #desired realities #noyasaur #shifting community #ask saturn💌 #🐸ask saturn

[benjaminalphabet]

i feel so inhuman lately. so objectified, and i wonder if it’s my fault.

i’m so sick of playing games with men who just don’t give a fuck about me. i’m so sick of being commodified, of being sexualized, of being on other people’s rosters. goddamn, it hurts me. no one ever looks below the surface. i just want to go home, i just want to be cared about. i feel like no one has ever looked at me and seen anything other than something that they can fuck. and god, everyone tries, and i let them because i can’t go home alone. i let them because i hate sleeping by myself. i let them because it gets so cold in my bedroom, and in my head. but my body is a barren wasteland, and i feel so empty. and god, i just want someone to see me as a real person.

i don’t want to wear lingerie anymore. i don’t want to be trapped inside this body that no one can see through. i don’t want to be one of your hoes. i don’t want you to call me when your other plans don’t work out. i don’t want to give you my number. i don’t even want to be the manic pixie dream girl that teaches you how to love again after someone else destroyed your heart. oh, brave wounded soldier let me kiss it all better! fuck this!

i’m so tired of thinking people are so interesting, so smart, so funny, so whatever - only for them to look at me and think that i’m so sexy. or they like how i look in that color, in that lighting,… i am real! i am so much more than miscellaneous body parts. i hate this body! i have worked so hard to disconnect from this body and still, it’s all you can see. i am standing in front of you with my heart in my hands! and i’m not going to give it to you, and you’re not going to reach out and grab it. i am standing in front of you with prose behind my eyes, and all you can see is my tits.

that is so heinous, so ugly. men are so evil. i am so much more than this body i didn’t ask for.

i feel so exhausted with the unavailability of it all. when did we decide it was better to lock all our feelings up in cages, fuck anything that walks, and tell no one we love them? how is it better this way? and i’m so tired of going to bars, and i’m so tired of men asking me if i know this or that band while they come up with ways to sneak into my pants. it’s so empty!! i feel so alone.

the worst part is how complicit i have become in all of it. i do nothing to stop it. i do nothing to try to prove my worth, i adamantly refuse to campaign for myself. i will not waste my breath trying to convince someone who just wants a doll that i am real. i wish so badly i could just be okay with it. i wish so badly that all i wanted was to be a sex symbol, was to be touched. but i’m so nonchalant you would never know how bad it hurts, or how pushed aside i feel. and if my facade cracks, i’ll just tank the whole thing. i’ll just tell myself you never wanted me enough times until i convince myself that i never wanted you either.

i don’t understand how my friends seem so okay with it. i don’t understand how my beautiful, loving, complicated and multifaceted friends can seem so unbothered by being so unnoticed. never forming connections, never getting used to anyone, never asking questions if the answers mean anything at all. how is this better? i go out with my friends and watch them take home men that will never give a shit about anything about them, and i do the same thing and we pretend it’s so fun? we get drunk, and we dance and smile all night, and no one ever admits to how violent this routine really is. every single morning i wake up feeling so sick with myself. how do i keep letting these people touch me? is it worse than isolation? is it healthy? is that possible? have i really fallen so out of touch with my own sense of worth that this is what i’m fucking doing? i’m fucking nauseous.

it is so easy to have sex. it is so easy to pretend that’s all you want. men love a machine. men love when you can make them laugh, and then shut the fuck up, and swallow it all. your words, your feelings, your moral compass, and anything else they can get in your mouth. men love when you love to be left. i do not love to be left! i do not love to be left!

please please please treat me like i’m real.

please please please treat me like i am more than a body.

#personal #i can’t say any of this out loud #it’s so embarrassing to admit to having feelings #hooking up with people is so embarrassing #stop trying to fuck me i am one onenightstand away from a reunion with god #like how hard is it to be like hey do you want to hang out in the daytime and do daytime things #hey do you want to make plans for sometime next week and not two hours from now? #i hope the next time i get hit on in a bar the whole place bursts into flames #i’m so serious #and how much of this is real and how much of it is religious trauma!!!! i’m doomed #leith ross is the only person who knows how i feel #but i’m not sure a connection like We’ll Never Have Sex is possible #i’m not sure that it’s real #i am only ever kissed with ulterior motives #i am only ever kissed with intention to take off my clothes #:(

[kaibascorpse]

trying to figure out a way to articulate my thoughts on autism and being autistic without coming across like im glorifying or romanticizing it in some way but its tricky. like okay i know its wrong to romanticize a disability but 1) i genuinely believe that autism (at least in my case) is ONLY a disability because we live in a society that only values neurotypicality so like. removed from that context (which is rly only possible in theory atm, not in practice) autism ISNT a disability it’s just like. a Particular Way of Being a Person and 2) i fucking!! LOVE being autistic!! like, theoretically removing all the difficulties of being autistic that, again, only arise because of arbitrary structures built against me, everything about being autistic is pretty fucking cool imo!! i love my autistic traits!! and maybe it’s just because i can’t imagine any other way of being, but given the opportunity to magically become neurotypical i would not fucking take it!!

like to me being autistic feels like i was born with an innate understanding that human beings are literally just animals and all the things that are a part of typical human society like money, jobs, gender, social expectations and etc. are just like. made up, yknow? and thats not to say that those things aren’t real just because they’re constructed, and they’re also not devoid of value or meaningful function, but like. ime neurotypical ppl just seem to treat these things as Fundamental and Unchanging Facets of Reality. and again, constructs are real and do serve a purpose, but i also dont think you can underestimate the value of being able to peer behind the curtain and say that “Hey these things are made up and therefor we can change them if we want to.”

but again, we live in a society that Does Not see the value in that perspective, and in fact THRIVES on convincing everyone that this Performance of Humanness is not only Very Real, but also The Only Way It Could Possibly Be, yknow? so they really dont like it when they have to deal with an entire population of people who are constantly pointing out that their precious Rules are arbitrary, and who are unwilling and in some cases literally unable to keep pretending that the performance is real. I feel like an actor who keeps getting scolded for not knowing my lines and breaking the fourth wall, except nobody even gave me the fucking script or told me what the play is about in the first place!!

word salad out of the way though, maybe i’m totally off base and this has nothing to do with being autistic, or it does but i’m missing the perspective of autistic folks other than myself. i only realized i was autistic within the past couple years and i only really understand autism in the way it affects me personally (and even that level of understanding is still limited). its very likely that there are many who will say that their autism would be a disability regardless of the societal environment. maybe other autistic people don’t experience that same feeling of peering behind the screen, or maybe that feeling generalizes to a group that is connected by traits other than autism. im totally willing to admit that i may just be talking nonsense here, but i cant seem to shake the feeling that a good deal of the autistic experience is a feeling of Pretending To Be Human, except this version of Human that we’re pretending to be is so exaggerated in its normalcy that its entirely alienating, and its just so ridiculous because being autistic IS a normal way to be a human being, and we shouldnt have to pretend all the time just to be fucking accepted

#my post #pls dont take anything i said here Too Seriously im just like. processing my thoughts ok #that said if other autistic people relate/dont relate to this im curious to hear your thoughts #again for those who may think im pissing on the poor: these are just raw thoughts not fully formed opinions

[abbaswift]

if this is too personal you dont have to answer this but ive seen you talk about autism on your blog before. I really am convinced that i have autism, like now ive looked into it i feel like its the missing jigsaw piece that explains so much. I really identify with stories from females in their early 20s as well about having undiagnosed autism throughout their school years. im in the uk but im scared that i wont be believed, i have no idea how to go about it and i dont even know how to bring it up to my parents. Do you have any advice?

hi anon, i’m feeling weirdly honoured that you’ve come to me to talk about this, i probably don’t have much advice but i can definitely relate to a lot of things you’ve mentioned

okay firstly i made a post about this recently which might have been the post that prompted this ask but i’ll link it just in case

the day autism was mentioned to me (i remember it vividly, i was eleven) everything just clicked (not to sound too cliche). i knew nothing about it but by the end of the day i’d done so much googling and SO much seemed to fit. it’s wild how you can spend years not knowing why you are the way you are and then you can find out and everything makes more sense. i actually feel a lot more confident and less “weird” now that i don’t have to make up justifications for my own behaviours to myself

i was lucky (in a fashion?) that i was diagnosed at fourteen but i know that there are so many people from our generation and older who slipped through the cracks when it came to childhood diagnosis simply because they were assigned female at birth. for decades autism was seen more as a “boy thing” and it’s only, i’d say, in the last decade or two that autistic girls are being more acknowledged. even now the boy:girl ratio for autism diagnosis is something like 4:1 and there are scientific disputes about whether it’s because autism in males is really more common, if “girl autism” is different or if girls are simply conditioned to hide their traits or show them in a different way. because of this, it’s very possible that there are many undiagnosed young women in your exact situation. it might be helpful to look for online communities (i was going to say forums but are they really a thing now?) of people you can relate to, who are going through the same thing

to be honest, i never had to convince anyone i was autistic because it wasn’t me who thought i was autistic in the first place, it was my deputy head teacher in middle school who first mentioned it in a school meeting to my mum, nan and other teachers. i didn’t even tell my friends until i was officially diagnosed. this means i don’t have much experience in what you need advice with. of course, i have no idea what your relationship with your parents is like or if they’re open-minded or knowledgeable about neurodiversity, so you’ll ultimately need to be the judge of how to approach it. maybe it’ll work best to sit them down and make sure they’re paying attention, but that’s a lot of pressure. honestly when i wanna start a tricky conversation, i do it when the people aren’t looking at me, maybe when we’re in the car or watching tv. just try to casually bring the topic up, maybe reference a recent news story about autism, i don’t know. just ease into the conversation(s) and once you feel ready, you might just blurt out what you want to say. if you feel like people will need persuading, write out a list of your autistic traits for reference. like i said in my linked post, some people don’t know about neurodiversity, but they will often still notice if you don’t act how neurotypical people do. if you’re reading out these autistic traits, traits that you also have, they may be more inclined to connect autism with you, and they’ll know you’ve done research.

i know you’ve mentioned that you worry you won’t be believed, but it might be worth confiding in some trusted friends or other relatives before you tell your parents, even if you just frame it in a hypothetical way. that way you can get a consensus on whether you “seem autistic” or not (and maybe get some confidence) before you have the (probably?) more important talk with your parents. although i suppose, if the people you’ve asked disagree with you, it might discourage you in further exploring the possibility of you being autistic. that being said, you know your brain and how much you potentially mask more than anyone else, so if you ask for the opinions of others, don’t be disheartened if it’s not the consensus you expected.

i was gonna try to type something about actually getting diagnosed but you might not be ready for that unless you’re prepared to get diagnosed without anyone in your life knowing. i don’t have much to offer in terms of experience (because i simply don’t remember much of getting diagnosed) or advice but i’d be willing to support you through it. for now, all i can say about getting an autistic diagnosis on the nhs is… good luck charlie

okay sorry for the massive ramble, it’s the ortizzum. i hoped this gave you or someone else reading this even a smidge of help, assuming you didn’t fall asleep midway through. as i said, i’m not great with advice but i can definitely relate as a young woman who wasn’t properly supported because of a lack of diagnosis. feel free to send me another ask or dm me about anything autism related… or just anything full stop. okay i’m wishing you luck, keep me updated! MWAH! x

#am i the autistic swiftie of tumblr now? yes im claiming that title #being asked for advice is crazy because im like ME???? a little PEAHEAD?????? #anyway good luck on everything anon #thanks for asking! #it took me so long to reply to this ask because i lost half of my draft #and i had to go out and commit several heinous crimes before i was ready to finish the draft