#If I don’t actively force myself to think of something else

[palms-upturned]

Frustrates me to no end seeing people say “what’s your alternative to voting blue? Stage a revolution right now? This second? Get real, you’re posting on your computer instead of firebombing walmarts.” I don’t think that you understand what people are actually doing. I know for myself, I’ve been reading more history and theory than I ever have before. I’ve been marching. I’ve been getting involved with labor activism. I’ve been doing strategic research. I’ve tried to archive and share resources. I’ve watched other people do WAY more than I ever have or probably could. I’ve seen people occupy arms manufacturing sites and hold wildcat strikes and disrupt daily life as much as possible. We’ve all seen this happening at unprecedented levels for months now. And most of all, I’ve seen Palestinians telling us, rightfully full of anger, do not ever go back to how things were before. Do not turn away from what’s happening and your own complicity in it.

This is not something that we can vote our way out of. Our state is built on the same violence being inflicted on the people of Palestine. We helped to build Israel. We are still arming it and funding the “war” right now. Even the most half hearted measures from international bodies like the UN to take the bare minimum of a stance against genocide are quashed by the US. As they always have been, our power and resources are used to reinforce imperial and colonial hegemony. That remains the same no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. And so does our own struggle for liberation. Meaningful change is never, ever going to come from within. We force the change to happen, as we always have.

If you can understand intersectionality, then surely you can understand this: we are not going to free ourselves by sacrificing colonized people. You may vote blue, and for you it could be a matter of life and death. Believe me, as a poor disabled person in a red state who almost killed myself over medical debt, I know the stakes. But I think you have to own the fact that you are empowering perpetrators of genocide and breaking solidarity with colonized people, not even to liberate yourself, but just to bargain with the oppressor for your life. That Palestinians and everyone else who we have harmed are going to be angry and they are more than within their rights. Instead of deflecting by just assuming that no one else is capable of putting their money where their mouth is and actually trying to lay groundwork for change, just do whatever you feel you have to do and sit with the reality of the situation.

Palestine will be free, we will be free, the whole world will someday be free. But for now, this is where we are, and we won’t free ourselves by operating like crabs in a bucket. Get organized, take care of each other, commit to solidarity. Empower yourself and each other rather than the state.

#meg talks #palestine #and also stop embarrassing yourself w the fire bombing walmart jokes and read some actual theory

[moss-opossum]

When I say "I would theoretically be interested in this activity, but I can't do it, my disabilities make it very difficult" and people try to be helpful by making half a dozen recommendations (not accessibility recommendations, just general advice), it shows they really don't get it.

If I desperately wanted to do that activity, yes, some of those suggestions might help. But I am not passionate enough about this one hobby to dedicate time, energy, and other resources to crawl my way towards proficiency in it (especially if it costs money or I would need to travel to do it!!!), and simultaneously deal with everything else I genuinely need to do (these actually necessary tasks are also exhausting!).

Additionally, at the end of the day, I would still struggle with that hobby, and that can be super disheartening for me. I don't think any of that should be expected if it's not something I want to go through.

I get that these people are trying to be helpful, but I often end up having to argue with them because they’re holding me to a standard that I cannot reach and don’t want to wear myself out for.

Disabled people absolutely can engage with hobbies that are difficult for us, but we should not be expected to force ourselves to do activities that push our very real limitations if we don’t want to. Asking us “is there a way we could make this more accessible?” is great, but please do not push us if we ever tell you “no” for something. We’ve likely already thought about it by the time we say no.

#moss-opossum #rant #disability #chronically ill #chronic illness #autism #neurodivergent #disabled #physically disabled #dyspraxia #actually dyspraxic #actually disabled #autistic

[parachutingkitten]

Why is Pixane So Queer?

Some thoughts on Asexual Romance.

[warning, long post below the cut]

The Ninjago fandom had a very potent reaction to The Quest for the Lost Powers repeatedly describing Pixal and Zane as being 'very close friends'. This seemed quite contradictory to many who assumed the confession of undying love at the end of the last season might have been a small hint at a romantic relationship of some kind. However, after closer examination, it turns out Pixal and Zane don’t ever actually refer to themselves as a couple, and the show has never once referred to them being in an active relationship.

But there’s something here, right? Sure, it’s not explicitly stated, but you are lying to yourself if you can watch them and tell me there is zero romantic subtext going on here. A lot of people got very defensive that the children’s book stated they were friends, especially when it also seemingly confirmed that the much straighter straight boy ship, Kailor, was apparently canon, despite being only implied as a possible future for ages now. But I find this backlash to be a bit strange. Sure, Zane and Pix aren’t exactly ‘just friends’ but, what do you want them to say? That they’re boyfriend and girlfriend? You want these two to say they’re ‘going out’ with each other? You think these two robots are ‘dating’ each other, like they’re just susin’ out the partner pool. Are those the words that fit this relationship to you?

I found myself feeling weirdly offended at everyone, and I think the reason was that these two love-droids haven’t chosen to define their relationship in traditional terms, and so everyone’s insistence that they should be boxed into some sort of traditional term seems inherently strange. It’s like when two elderly people are dating, it feels weird when they say “this is my girlfriend” because despite it being factually true, there’s so much baggage that comes with the word, part of that implication being youth, which is directly at odds with the immediate situation. It’s the correctness of the word paired with the incorrectness of the societal implications which forces you to assess if those societal implications should exist. And that- that is what makes this relationship feel queer. That’s why there’s this undeniably different kinda energy radiating off of it. It’s that rejection of the traditional labels, the refusal to be put into a box, which forces it to be a-typical. But, why? Why does Pixane have this rejection of labels radiating off of it? Their ages, while being literally whack, are presented as being your typical teenage to young adult age romance. Their genders present as a typical hetero pairing. And it’s not like they don’t follow your typical cliche love at first sight plot. I mean, Pixal was pretty explicitly created as a generic love interest character. So, what is it? Why is this queer? Spoiler alert: It’s because they’re asexual.

So, what is asexuality? Strictly defined, it is a community of people who experience little to no sexual attraction to anyone. This is distinct from aromanticism, which is a lack of romantic attraction, and sexual engagement or urges which are their own separate boat, but often have overlap with asexuality. However, for our purposes, we are focused on just the sexual attraction part. You can think of it as the difference between finding someone hot and finding someone cute. That’s the distinction that made it click for me anyway.

Now, as a disclaimer, I am not going to be considering other queer interpretations of this relationship. Not to invalidate them, because of course they’re valid, but specifically because I feel there isn’t precedent for them in the text, and I feel there is for asexuality. This deep dive is particularly about validating asexuality as being queer, and so to do that we have to eliminate any other outstanding factors. People are extremely quick to pin asexual queerness to something else, and that in itself can feel invalidating, even if it’s only attempting to validate other communities as well. Asexual romance is so easily read as straight romance, that any queer undertones have to have an alternate explanation, because asexuality doesn’t seem like enough to cross the barrier. Yes, enby interpretations of Pixane are great, and fantastic, and I would die for your right to follow those headcanons, but to pin the in text queer vibes on the fact that they technically don’t have biological gender, despite having very clear presenting and unwavering genders in text seems like a real easy way to dismiss the asexual coding which is staring me in the face. While things like non-binary or aromantic readings validate communities who have immense oppression and are continually called fake or confused, which is insanely important, asexuality, especially as it stands apart from aromanticism, is often confused as not being a difference at all. You’re just pure! You’re just wholesome! You’re just so sweet and innocent! And yes… yes, I am, but also, it’s more than that. It’s fundamentally something different about the way my brain is wired, and I feel a need to defend the fact that it, specifically, is queer. And in no way am I trying to say that the aces are the most oppressed actually, I don’t want to start the oppression Olympics here, and if we were to, I would probably argue quite the opposite, but I am saying that there is oppression, and it comes from outside and inside of the community, and it is a thing. It’s a different flavor of thing that’s maybe not as severe, but also sits differently. Maybe it’s not as much a pressing thing as other things, but… it’s my thing. It’s what I feel. It’s something I can speak on. So, I’m going to speak on it.

Perhaps one of the largest factors asexuality has to offer is the necessary separation of romance and sex. The packaging of sexual attraction and romantic attraction is so ubiquitous that the term ace is often assumed to be referring to aro/ace people, despite there being a term for that… aro/ace! Asexuality is not an easy queerness to explain, precisely because of this deeply held integration. It’s not a difference of experience necessarily, it’s a lack of a certain experience. I’m not saying this is something you can’t understand, because, unless you’re aromantic, I know you understand it! You are going to be able to like and relate to and feel seen by asexual romances, because the main component it requires is that you have romantic attraction- which is most people. And so many people get confused when you point to an asexual thing and go “I get that! This! This is me!” Because they just respond with “You’re not special, I get that too. Is this supposed to be different?” And, yes, it is, primarily because everything else includes this giant other thing as well, which is sexuality.

When vegans get excited about finding a meal which is especially delicious and also meets their food restrictions, they get particularly excited. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that same vegan meal- no doubt it probably tastes incredibly delicious to you as well. But you likely won’t get that same feeling of excitement, because you don’t live under the same restrictions as vegans do. That’s the same thing I feel when I see an asexually coded romance. I can enjoy the full meal without having to pick things out or ignore vital parts. I have no doubt that others can thoroughly enjoy asexual romances, but you’re going to have to look at it in context of all the dominant romance stories in the world to understand why it’s so different and special to me.

Now, have I cracked the code on asexual romance in media? No. I only have my own experience with asexuality to lean on, and the very limited discourse on the topic I’ve come across while discovering my identity. All of this is simply a theory based on my own thoughts and observations, but these are some explanations as to what might possibly be included in a framework for an asexually coded romance, at least to me.

So, what makes romance asexual? It’s not simply a lack of sexual suggestiveness. Any number of romances aren’t sexually suggestive, but still glaringly heteronormative- especially in children’s television. And it’s also not a lack of initial attraction, as that would throw Pixane out of the running for sure. Well, I have a few things which I feel may contribute to asexual coding of a romantic relationship, and wouldn’t you know, Pixane is a great example of all of them.

Asexual romance may, as many have remarked, come off as more innocent. When you shove all of the focus of characters onto the romantic, emotional connection, rather than any underlying sexual tension, things end up feeling extremely innocent to the layperson. You get the sort of old married couple effect. Two people deeply in love, who just sort of stare at each other in awe, and that others can comment on how cute they are. Again, asexuals don’t necessarily find anything hot. Cuteness is the main operative factor motivating their attraction, so it follows that their interactions would radiate that factor back at observers. The characters might in fact be very touchy, have sex, enjoy that physical touch, but that’s not at the forefront of anyone’s mind in the story. This is an aspect of Pixane that can be read very clearly. Their romance is quite easily described as pure and wholesome by all who have the pleasure of observing them. The way they interact with each other is extremely gentle and supportive, and their level of old married couple vibes is by far the highest of any pairings in the show (aside from perhaps the actual old married couple of Ed and Edna).

Asexual romance, I find to often be less conflict driven. Take the classic enemies to lovers plotline- it’s built on a tension between an innate irrational attraction, and a perceived logical personality conflict. While romantic attraction is certainly not always rational, from my understanding, sexual attraction is often rooted in factors that aren’t at all related to logical compatibility or personality. This means the enemies to lovers plot is primed to work much better when sexually charged, because it presents a clear path to create the hate/love conflict. Not to say that asexual enemies to lovers is impossible, or that asexual partners don’t have conflict between them, but that it is less of an obvious threat to incorporate into asexual romance.  Because there are less factors and layers of attraction to get involved in, there’s less room for conflict and contradiction between them. It is much easier to get tangled up in a situation with more strings. Pixane is a relationship which certainly doesn’t hold much internal conflict. The one disagreement they did have is solved quite neatly with basic communication skills in the middle of season 8. Most of their conflict comes from external factors which separate them or cause misunderstanding, rather than conflict from within the characters themselves.

Asexual romance also has the obvious potential to challenge traditional dating norms. Because there is no impulse to escalate things physically, it makes sense that the progression of an asexual romance would differ from traditional relationships where that escalation is expected. Your asexual romance is bound to get emotionally intense with each other quicker, or at least have it be the focus of their story, because there is no other facet to deal with. Asexuals don’t commonly have sexual fantasies for themselves, but rather romantic fantasies. Not to say that most people don’t have romantic fantasies, but… that’s all we’ve got. And when your impulse is ‘let’s get married, and then maybe I guess we can kiss’, it might seem like things are progressing out of order to the average person. While asexuals don't all hate physical contact or even sexual connection, it isn't an attractive or motivating factor in the same way it is in most romances, so even on a base level, the level of physical contact is likely going to be less than average. Pixane progresses ridiculously out of order. Zane is willing to split his soul for her- it’s only at this point that they romantically hold hands for the first time. It’s the emotional connection between the two that comes first, and all classic tangible symbols of affection and romance that are secondary. The most pronounced physical contact we’ve seen is a cheek kiss, and their most common type of physical contact is enthusiastic hugging (which I’ll dive more into later).

Additionally, because physical affection is more of an afterthought, it would also make sense for labels to come slowly. If you have an incredibly close personal, soulful connection, but you haven’t kissed yet, it makes sense for people around you to assume you’re just really close friends, or perhaps just crushing on each other still. Terms like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” invoke rather physical tactile images, and so to attempt to apply them to an asexual romance isn’t necessarily wrong but may feel a bit off putting because of this dissonance. Again, it’s this dissonance between the romantic meaning of the word, and the sexual undertones which forces discomfort onto the viewer. Pixal and Zane have yet to kiss each other after years of dancing around each other’s obvious romantic feelings. It remains unclear if they even are in an active romantic relationship at all, or are still mutually pinning, as no labels have been given to their relationship in show. I have no doubt part of this is the lack of planned dates or physical affection which are common outward signals of a traditional established relationship.

A lot of the saucy flirting which accompanies many classic heteronormative romances can seem rather pointless to asexuals. I would venture to say that asexuals are likely more direct and up front with their emotional vulnerability and feelings, because that’s the connection which they are seeking to make. To dance around it with innuendo and mind games is rather unproductive in achieving the end goal. There is less of a pressure to “perform” romance, and instead just be honestly romantic, because the romance isn’t a prelude to sex, or physical affection, it’s the end goal in and of itself. To only pretend to do it is entirely pointless. All of this is likely going to result in a romance which puts less focus on the “game of dating”. I mean, can you imagine Pixane ending up in a Jaya style love triangle? It’s almost an absurd pitch to make, right? There is no performativity to the Pixane relationship, it is exactly as it appears at first glance. And when Zane attempts more traditional, cheesy flirting tactics like in Ninjago Confidential, Pixal is nothing but confused and annoyed by his attempts.

The most prominent example which I feel exemplifies the inherently asexual coding of Pixane applies to many robotic romances- and it’s the characters’ relationship with skin. A lot of sexual suggestion and tension is based on skin. The revealing nature of skin exposure, the feeling of skin on skin being a sexual touchpoint, skin is essential to the sexual experience in most instances. This is part of the reason I love writing romance but have yet to write a kiss between anyone. The sexuality of a kiss is inherently uncomfortable to write for me because you’re encouraged to lean into the physical feeling of the touch of skin. Robots bring to the forefront the idea of this physical contact because their skin is often not exactly skin, and that in itself gives a sort of de facto distance from sexuality. There’s a moment which happens repeatedly with Pixane, and shows up in other robotic romances, like Wall-E and Eve, which I feel highlights this essential separation from the skin of sexuality. Pixane and Wall-Eve both have the ‘clink’ moment, in which intimate physical contact is made, (in Pixane’s case, all of their many hugs) and accentuated by the sound of their metal skin meeting with a loud clink. This sound not only highlights their lack of skin but serves to suck any sexual energy out of the interaction immediately and leaves it purely with the romance intended by the action. It’s not uncommon for people to find the sound humorous, precisely because of how desexualizing it is. It highlights the couples’ incapability of indulging in sexual skin on skin contact, and instead the closeness and companionship the act of touching provides.

And this is why I feel robots are in fact a decent candidate for asexual characters if done properly. Robots being coded as asexual can be a very negative stereotype, particularly when their asexuality is explicitly linked to their lack of emotion and feeling- but media about robots has been trending more positively recently. In fact, robots, if used correctly, may actually validate asexuality explicitly. Robotic characters are often used to explore the idea of what makes humanity human. If we give these robots human-like enough traits, when do they become human? Are they perhaps the most human? And it seems like fictional consensus agrees that sexuality is not required to achieve human status. Stripping away the excess human emotions may be part of what makes robots asexual (or aromatic, if your robot is also incapable of romantic love). The medium of robot literalizes the disconnect that asexuals have with their physical bodies, most notably their skin, and serves to put additional distance between the character and sexual contact, at least in the traditional sense. I mean, think about it, if you want your robot to be sexual, you need to go out of your way to establish that it has sexual capability, because no one is going to simply assume that your fictional robot was designed with that capability in mind. Why would it be, unless that was its explicit purpose? In a way, robots are sort of de facto asexual.

Pixane is queer because it’s asexual, and it’s asexual because they distill down only the purely romantic parts of a romantic relationship. They’re able to do this, in part because of their individual characterization, but also because of their robotic bodies, which make the separation between romance and sexuality just that much easier. They highlight the necessity to separate romance from all of the convoluted sexual layers which often accompany it, and so come out feeling distinctly untraditional and subversive.

That's the theory, again, all hyper based on my own personal experience with asexuality, which is of course not all encompassing. I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

#ninjago #pixane #pixal borg #zane julien #pixal ninjago #zane ninjago #asexuality #long one #parachuterants

[evvlevie]

❤️‍🔥♥️ LESSONS I NEEDED TO LEARN IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND SHIFTING ♥️❤️‍🔥

Hi, Hello, it’s your favourite shifting blogger Evie again, and I have stuff to tell you 🫂♥️

Here‘s the situation for people who aren’t aware of what I have been up to: My blog has been dead for a quite long amount of time, because I am in university now and I basically decided to focus on the life in this reality for a while instead of my desired one. University can be quite stressful, too which is why I haven’t even been able to think about shifting, so that it eventually lost importance in my life. I wanna be clear that I have not given up on it or that I don’t want to shift anymore, it just wasn’t a priority for the first time in my life since like April.

1️⃣ You always get what you want.

I know I have been preaching this quite often on here, but ever since I haven’t been forcing myself to shift anymore this became very apparent to me. I noticed that if I had a desire, even if I didn’t make it a dominant thought in my head, that it showed up manifesting in my reality no matter what because I was desiring it and I always get what I want. For example: I met a guy here in Uni and we are in a friendgroup. I am not romantically interested in him, but I kinda wanted him to admit that I was his favourite friend out of the group. I tried to manifest him to say these exact words, but instead a situation arose in which he expressed the same message in a different way, that made me realize that his way of wording that same context made me way more content with the situation. Even if I wasn’t trying to make him say what he ended up saying, he said what I didn’t even know I wanted, but I did. I got what I wanted. He never said „you are my favorite“ but instead he said what my true desire actually was. This was a very important thing for me to learn. I needed to be reminded of the fact that I never fail to get my desires met. Even if shifting is one of them. If I want to shift, I will because I always get what I want.

2️⃣ let go

Manifestations come when you let them manifest. Jello only sets hard when you stop wiggling it around. That’s the idea. My desires manifested after I mentioned that I wanted them to myself once. That’s because if you keep telling yourself „why don‘t I have my desire yet“ you are actively living in a reality where your desire isn’t yours. We all knew this fact and it’s nothing new, but right here where I am, the place where I don‘t really have the ability to even think about something else than my studies, my manifestations came the quickest. I am not dwelling in the old story, I am not asking myself where my desires are and I am literally just desiring shit for a minute and it comes flying at me because I even forget I am desiring that stuff. I needed to be reminded that obsessing with your manifestations isn’t what is going to get them faster to you. I needed to be reminded about the fact that the more time I spend in the state of hoping the longer things will take to manifest.

3️⃣ a simple decision is a manifestation

My favorite way of manifesting is deciding. I‘m honest: I love it. I sit in class and I‘m thinking „wouldn’t it be nice to have xyz right now?“ then I remember that I am a fucking boss at manifestation and I go „okay so it’s decided, xyz is mine.“ and that’s how I go about my day. When I catch myself thinking „oh wait I don‘t have xyz“ I always remind my self „oh no wait I‘m silly, I manifested it a minute ago! Stupid me“ and I don‘t mean that in a panicking or self-controlling manner. I know people love to preach about mental diet on here but this always sounds so harsh to me. I literally take it the most lazy and chill way possible. I decide I want something, I decide it’s mine and after that I treat it like it’s mine. Even if you can’t see it in the 3D reality yet, manifestations aren’t little magic spells that might work or might not. They always work 100% so if you just stay consistent with it it always appears. I can’t tell you how many packages have arrived at ridiculous paces to me because I decided I wanted a certain dress to be here on a very specific day. Shipping usually takes 10 days? Not with me, my shit comes in three days because that when I want it here. I decide that I will be able to wear my dress the day I want to, so yes the dress arrives on time, because I say so.

4️⃣ you‘re literally doing it all by yourself

People who are just starting out to manifest and shift are often under the impression that when you‘re manifesting you are requesting something specific from a certain type of outer force. Like you are placing an order with a sketchy website that might or might not deliver your order because it’s that cheap and unusual. I have been reading it and saying it to my own followers all of the time that „you are giving your desires to yourself“ and that „you are shifting yourself left and right and not some outer energy“. But only like two days ago it actually hit me. Everything IS me. You get your desires because you are giving them to yourself, you just have to decide. You get what you want because you obviously know that you want it. That’s exactly why the laws never fail because you obviously won’t cheat yourself. That’s exactly why the laws can’t work against you, because the only energy that has the ability to change and decide shit is you. Why would you ever work against you? That doesn’t even make sense! When you are doubting shifting you are basically ordering yourself not to do it. BECAUSE ITS ALL YOU. But like it’s LITERALLY ONLY YOU. No god, no ominous universe, no power above you. NONE. It’s you or nothing. You literally want to shift yourself, but your doubts are basically you standing in your own way. There is nothing that has to approve your desires other than you. Your subconscious is you. Think of yourself like a sugar daddy. Your consciousness is a sugar baby who really loves nice shiny things and your subconscious is the sugar daddy with all the money that he wants to spend as much as he possibly can. When the sugar Baby asks the sugar daddy for nice shoes he buys them for her. When the sugar baby wants a new lambo he will buy it for her. And when she requests a whole ducking country he will buy it for her. And bestie when you are your own sugar daddy how the fuck can you not get what you request hm? Exactly! You are the sugar baby AND daddy. You are giving everything to yourself constantly. YOU PLACE YOUR ORDER WITH YOURSELF, HOW CAN YOU NOT GET IT?It’s never something else.

So here we are. Evies realizations after I spent time away from obsessing with shifting and manifestations. I don‘t remember who told me that, but since everything is you, you can always find the answers to spiritual questions within yourself. After these 3 weeks of distance I finally figured out how I (and I mean I as in particularly me, because for you shifting and manifestation can work vastly differently) need to approach shifting and manifestation. Spirituality is very very individual. Don‘t force other peoples mindsets on yourself, don‘t apply a mindset you do not resonate with and don‘t take every shifters advice at face value. Different things work in different people. The real answers to all of your questions are within yourself not on tumblr, not on amino and definitely not on tiktok.

I Hope I was able to help you guys today and I really really hope you guys have amazing holidays ❤️❤️❤️

Thank all of you for 700 followers while I am at it! I appreciate every single follower who decided that my content is worth staying for and worth paying attention to. I couldn’t be more thankful for my blog, there is absolutely nothing that fulfills me as much as helping people. Thank you for being my platform and thank you for being a key aspect to my passion. ♥️❤️‍🔥🫂

Yours in every reality,

Evie <3

#law of assumption #reality shifting #loa #shifting realities #law of attraction #manifestation #shifting #law of manifestation #shifting community #current reality #desired reality #shiftblr #reality shift #manifesting #shifting methods #spiritual community #spiritual vibrations #spirituality #spiritualawakening #spiritualgrowth

[annalu86]

A second go at a first date.

Tim is not against public displays of affection. Within reason.

He actively likes holding hands with women he is in a relationship with.

He’s been known to put his hand on a lower back, or an arm round a shoulder

And maybe even a quick hug.

He likes to think it was because he was a gentleman, he would tell his partners their relationship was no one else’s business but he was beginning to believe that maybe he’d never been in a relationship where he just couldn’t keep his hands off the other person before…

He has the feeling Lucy is really going to answer this question for him.

Of course in this moment he’s not thinking any of this, he’s not thinking at all. Sitting as close to Lucy as possible in these uncomfortable metal chairs, food forgotten in front of them.

One hand on her knee, the other in her hair. The kiss had built and built, the idea that the other food truck patrons or passers by might see them had not crossed his mind.

The minute she had told him, in that fancy restaurant during their disastrous first ‘first date’, that she wanted them to have their first “real” kiss he had thought about how much he wanted to finally be the one to take control.

The first peck, back in her apartment all those months ago, an embarrassment he needed to make up for. Lucy had followed that very first kiss up with 2 of the most heart racing, knee buckling kisses Tim had ever experienced. He had something to prove.

Not that he was competitive or anything but, he had to at least level the playing field.

It was Lucy who pulled back first, out of breath, flushed cheeks and red lips. She placed her hands on his chest as he reflexively leaned forward to chase another kiss.

“Let me breathe” she giggled slightly and he worked to contain the slightly smug grin that threatened to take over his face

“Sure thing” he leaned back in his chair not taking his eyes off her. He picked at his food as she took a deep drink from her can.

For several minutes they both sat in silence, gazes soft, gentle smiles.

Lucy starts to lean forward in her seat and Tim forces himself to remain still, to focus on the way her hair falls forward over her shoulders. How her smile quirks up on one side as she watches his reaction intently. Her hand reaches up and round to the back of his neck and his eyes close, briefly, at the light touch she leaves on his skin.

Goose bumps erupt on his skin as she trails her finger tips down his neck and along his collar bone. She pauses, momentarily.

“Lucy” it comes out as a whisper when her finger tighten around the collar of his shirt and she draws him firmly to her.

Tim is the first to pull away this time, he feels like he’s losing a battle of wills. Against his own hands. Touching Lucy is a heady mixture of electrifying and familiar. New, but also as it had always been. He knows how her soft face will fit in his hand because he knows every inch of her face as well as he knows his own.

But her words ring in his ears. They shouldn’t rush just because they know each other so well.

So with super human strength he sits back and tries to string together a sentence.

“Angela is going to be insufferable” he rolled his eyes but his smile remained.

“You’re going to tell her?” Lucy didn’t sound nervous but he wanted to reassure her that he wasn’t going to be telling anyone until she was ready.

“Honestly I don’t think I’m going to have to. Detective Lopez will work it out in minutes” then in a moment of bravery “she’s been on at me about us” he says gesturing between them “for some time”

Lucy’s mouth hangs open

“Us?” She stutters “for sometime?!” Her mouth opens and closes like a fish and Tim can’t help but grin “Tim!” She swats at his shoulder. “Explain!”

“She may have worked out that I had feelings for you, maybe even before I was sure” Tim could feel the heat in his cheeks and new a blush was creeping over his face. “She asked some questions, made me ask a few more of myself”

“When?” Was all she asked her eyes locked on his.

“After we kissed, the first time in your apartment” Lucy’s eyes shot wide open “I… I was… confused” he stuttered “I wasn’t expecting to feel what I felt. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely” she nodded “I feel like things had been a little…” she paused “fuzzy? Before. But after?” She swallowed hard “I thought about that kiss more than I probably should have.” Her gaze dropped to her lap “dreamt about it more than I should have”

Tim felt his heart hammer in his chest at her confession. No words formed, he just stared at her as she fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt.

Slowly, he reached his hand out. Sliding his fingers along her jaw until her face was resting in his large hand, he lifted her face towards his and placed a single gentle kiss to her lips. As quick as the first, in her apartment but with all the feelings, all the meaning neither of them had been free to express at the time.

“Ok.” Tim said sitting back again “so how many grandchildren are you thinking exactly”

Lucy’s hearty laugh echoed out into the night “Tim!” He was beginning to think her love language was whacking him on the shoulder

“Well I’m just saying, we might not want to take it too slow or…” and just like that they were back to their gentle teasing.

They finally finished their food and arranged that their next date would see Tim cooking for her at his place and after 3 failed attempts at saying goodnight at their cars, that just saw them out of breath and Lucy with wild hair, Tim was finally in his truck on his way home.

He would see her again in the morning and he new just the thought would send him off to a blissful sleep and just maybe he’d have a few dreams of his own.

#chenford #chenford fanfic #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie #a second go at a first date

[bestworstcase]

@cryptidblues tumblr ate this one too, maybe drop tumblr support a line to check if you’ve been erroneously shadowbanned 

Oscar is dying! He’s dying! We’re getting the full weight and crisis of the merge in volume 10 I NEED IT. The image of him collapsed on the sand as the sunrises with his back to the long memory OOUGH just like Ruby and crescent rose after she drank the tea, before the tree took her. The reversal on “I don’t want to be me anymore” / please let me stay myself. The lad is being eaten alive! From the inside out! By an unstoppable brain parasite that will kill him! And Replace Him! I Need the slow build up of horror from Oscar and everyone involved. “And Oscar…just isn’t himself” they’re place setting. Getting the table ready. Ooh yknow he’s hiding those merge episodes/attacks from his friends. I NEED the existential terror and dread! BUT I NEED THE CATHARSIS OF OSCAR BEING KNOWN, SEEN & SAVED TOO ;-;

NOT to make a post oscar about ozma instead but the thing that is really, really pulling the hinges off for me is the implication that this is happening because oz started actively fighting the merge. as long as oscar resisted and oz kept up the drumbeat of “this is inevitable, there is nothing either of us can do,” the curse kept on quietly eroding oscar as the boundary became thinner and thinner between them. it was, for lack of a better term, stable. 

the moment oz tries to resist, the curse starts trying to rip him forward. to force him to take over, inflicting what seems to be torturous amounts of pain on both of them. the subtle, silent, invisible violence that was inflicted on oscar before explodes outward to attack both of them. 

how many times have i said this curse is specifically designed to make it impossible for ozma to change? that the whole point is to prevent ozma from ever changing his mind or defying the god of light? never doubt me. the literal fucking instant ozma tries to break free, the curse becomes YOU DO NOT HAVE A CHOICE. 

the curse had a failsafe the whole time.

/ozma tangent

oscar though. this poor kid. like the greatest burden on his shoulders in the last four volumes has always been that no one wants to openly acknowledge what’s happening to him and the nature of the merge’s violence being so completely internal means that no one has to look at it except him. and he’s been so isolated in that existential dread but he’s also grown so accustomed to being treated like just. the next ozpin. that when the violence abruptly becomes externalized in reaction to oz’s resistance, oscar… hides it. keeps it to himself. somewhere deep down the idea that it doesn’t matter to anyone what happens to him got lodged in his brain so deeply that he keeps it hidden!!

and i’m obsessed with the emotional complexity the layers of what he’s feeling with regard to ruby, because it’s not as simple as that he misses her and aspires to her optimism; there’s also some underlying resentment there (“you were always so sure that everything would work out…right up until the moment it didn’t” <- paraphrasing) because she was wrong and he wishes he could borrow her certainty but she was wrong. she fell. she was wrong. 

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, everyone else believes that they’re gone forever. that they’re dead. oscar doesn’t. he’s thinking about it in terms of where they might have gone, what might have happened to them, he’s doing research because deep down, there’s a teeny tiny spark of hope that hasn’t been extinguished yet. so there’s this subtext of i wish i had your certainty. even though you were wrong. i’m still trying to find you. we’re still fighting this. you always saw me for who i really was. i don’t know who i am anymore.—there’s this tension throughout the monologue between bitterness and hope, and i don’t know if oscar is even capable of seeing that he is still hopeful or that he does have, if not ruby’s kind of certainty, something of his own that rhymes. he’s feeling this bleak about everything and still trying to figure out where they are because he doesn’t believe they’re dead. 

it was oscar’s idea to put the memorial where the portal had been. it’s taller than a person and shaped like a door. it’s a memorial but it’s also a symbol; the portal is gone, but they were inside it still, we should build our own door so they can find their way home. and then they do, according to the context given. the blacksmith gave them a doorway that went right through their memorial.  ETA: never mind, misremembered

ruby confronting and facing his mortality after running away from it for three volumes to galvanize her to really try to save him vs oscar doing whatever he can think of to somehow save her while roiling in all these complicated painful feelings about how no one cares to know how he’s suffering because it isn’t like there’s any real hope for him. tasty!

[five-rivers]

Dream Lantern Chapter 1

For Ectoberhaunt 2023 Day 5: Hunt.

The person who entered the small examination room wasn’t a doctor.  They weren’t even human.  

Danny, who had been hunched in the less-than-comfortable chair in the corner, waiting for the doctor to get to him, sprang to his feet.  “You!” he hissed, green sparking from his fists and his rings snapping into place and sweeping outward to transform him.  “You did this!”

At first glance, the person in front of Danny looked human, but that was only at first glance.  The ridges of their eyes curved smoothly, owl-like, into the bridge of their nose.  Their hair, too black, formed a widow’s peak so sharp Danny wasn’t sure it couldn’t draw blood.  They wore a black suit that was about ten times too formal and old-fashioned to even exist in Amity Park.  

But all of that could be brushed aside.  Sometimes people just looked or dressed strangely.  The real indicator was the eyes, which were red from lid to lid and faintly luminous.

“Yes,” said Nocturne, gloved hand touching their face as if to make sure it was still in place.  “Did you think someone else could have?”

“Put them back!” demanded Danny.  “Or I’ll–”

“Or you’ll do nothing,” said Nocturne.  “They are hostages, boy.  I’m sure you realize this already, or you would have attacked.” 

Danny bristled.  “What do you want?”

“Your help.”  They laughed, showing off teeth that were both too white and too sharp.  “You like that, don’t you?”

Danny scowled.  He couldn’t deny the way his core had twitched at the word ‘help,’ but even full ghosts weren’t mindless slaves that could be programmed and activated by their Obsessions’ triggers.  Besides, he had better people to help.  

Like Tucker and Sam.  Jazz.  His parents.  

They were elsewhere in the hospital, in comas so deep Danny couldn’t touch their minds at all.  The doctors had kept Danny here, just in case he was about to slip into a coma, too, but knowing that it was Nocturne, rather than just suspecting it…

He wanted to fight.  He wanted to force Nocturne to let them go, to wake them up.  

But… hostages.  

“With what?”

“With retrieving something,” said Nocturne.  

“And if I help, you'll bring them out of their comas?”

Nocturne lazily raised a hand.  “I swear it.”

“Fine.  What is it and where is it?”  If it was something dangerous, he could always sabotage it.  He had experience with that kind of thing.

“Oh, you mistake me, child.  I will retrieve it myself.  I only need you to accompany me to do so.  A being of your… nature is required.”

“What, a half ghost?”

“A creature neither alive nor dead,” said Nocturne.  “I think you fit that requirement quite nicely.”

The way Nocturne leered at him made Danny’s skin crawl.  He forced the ectoplasm swirling around his hands to recede and landed.

“Fine,” he snapped, again.  

Nocturne reached out towards his face and Danny swatted their hand away.

“I’ll go there awake, thanks.”

“Very well,” said Nocturne, still smiling.  They turned and opened the door.  It no longer led back into the hospital.  Nocturne’s form liquified, and they oozed through the door, gaining volume as they did so until they were in their massive usual form.  The one that could hold and crush Danny in the palm of a hand.  

Danny swallowed.  He hadn’t realized Nocturne could make portals like that.  He followed, and the portal shut behind him.  

Nocturne’s smile grew smugger.  They turned and made a sweeping gesture.  “Behold,” they said, “the Plain of Dreams.”

There… wasn’t much to look at.  There was a big island there, sure.  One large enough that the other side vanished into the horizon.  But the surface of the island was flat and gray, devoid of any point of interest except for size.  

“You live here?” asked Danny.  

“Once,” said Nocturne, almost wistful.  “But there is no time for reminiscing.  You have a role to play here.”

“Which is?”

“That of a lantern.”  Nocturne reached into the invisible folds of their robes and pulled out a glittering, golden, jewel-studded cage, one shaped like a lantern and floored with rich, plush bedding.  They pinched the door open and held it up in front of Danny.  

“No,” said Danny.  “I’m not getting in there.  If you need my glow or whatever for your thing, well, guess what?  I glow just as well out here.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” said Nocturne, circling him.  Danny turned, trying to keep eyes on Nocturne’s face and hands.  “You must be neither alive nor dead, awake nor asleep, willing nor unwilling.  Caged, but uncaptured.  Hungry, but full.  Complaisant, but steadfast.”

Danny’s skin prickled again.  He did not like this, and the fairy-tale-like phrasing was not helping his nerves.  “I don’t know that I’d call myself complacent.”

Nocturne chuckled.  “Different word, little ghost.  Or… I can seek out more friends of yours.  The girl in red, perhaps?”  They switched directions so fast Danny couldn’t keep track of them.  Their next words were whispered into Danny’s hair.  “She still dreams of you, you know.”

Danny flinched away, glaring, but he couldn’t hold Nocturne’s gaze for long.  He frowned at the cage instead.  He did not like it.  At all.  

“I get to leave at the end?” he asked, knowing full well he couldn’t hold Nocturne to that in any meaningful way.  Even Nocturne’s word that he’d let his family and friends go didn’t mean much.  

But what else could he do?  He’d already tried to wake them up himself, and he didn’t know what else Nocturne could do to them when they were in that state.

“Yes, yes, and I’ll wake your family.  We have already discussed this.  You are wasting time.”

“We hadn’t discussed this, actually,” said Danny.  “We’ve barely ‘discussed’ anything.”

“I can send them deeper,” said Nocturne, voice low and dangerous.  “Do you want that, child?  Perhaps their doctors will notice when they stop breathing on their own.  Perhaps not.”

Danny, core making an awful whining sound, raised his hands in surrender and flew into the cage.  Nocturne, moving swiftly, closed it behind him.  

The exhaustion he’d been holding back all day (or was it all week?  All month?  All year?  Since he died the first time?) poured over him.  Against his will, he sank slowly to the blankets and pillows at the bottom of the cage, clouds of golden dust rising around him as his weight settled.  His eyelids fluttered, and his vision became blurred, uncertain.  

Nocturne threaded their long, pointed fingers through the bars of the cage and pressed one against Danny’s chest, over his core.  Inky, starry blackness flowed from Nocturne’s finger and into Danny.  He could feel it being pressed into his core, and his core drank it in, growing colder.  His aura flared out involuntarily, to a brightness that was almost painful.  He groaned and tried to turn his head against one of the pillows.  

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” asked Nocturne in a falsely sweet voice.  It echoed weirdly, the words warping around their edges, morphing into other voices, other conversations.  “A simple waking dream.  Look.”

With some effort, Danny raised his head as Nocturne thrust the lantern-cage forward.  For a moment, bright colors streaked dizzyingly across his vision, like fireworks and flowers, but then–

What lay before him was not the gray and featureless plain he had seen only moments before.  Instead, ringed by the golden haze of dreams was a vibrant forest, decked with vivid colors and bright flowers, brighter and more numerous than they ever would be in reality.  Or maybe jungle was a better word.  In the distance, majestic mountains rose from the middle of the jungle, tinted blue and purple, glittering cities of gold and crystal built on their slopes.  A flight of butterflies bigger than birds exploded from the near edge, and swooped around Nocturne and Danny in a rainbow whirlwind.  Some of them had wingspans longer than his arm.

“What,” Danny might have said, aware that his words were slurred into unintelligibility, if they were spoken at all, “is that?”

“The Dream Wilds,” said Nocturne.  

They reached into the cage again, adjusting Danny’s position so that he was halfway between sitting and lounging, hemmed in and supported by blankets.  They might as well have been chains, and even as that picture developed in his mind’s eye, it developed in reality as well.  Blanket twisted around his limbs and grew darker, the fabric taking on a metallic sheen.  Pillows grew heavier… but also softer, pulling him yet deeper into the half-dreaming state Nocturne had forced on him.  

He was, really, horribly comfy.  

If it wasn’t for his hazmat suit and its boots, Danny could almost be convinced he was bundled up in his own bed.  Then, he blinked, long, slow, and sleepy, and he wasn’t wearing his hazmat suit anymore.  Instead, he was wearing a set of pajamas that, if he’d seen them in the real world, would have sent him into paroxysms of envy.  They were a set, a button-down shirt and a pair of pants, the type of pajamas he liked the most.  They also were sewn with tiny star-shaped sequins in the pattern of real constellations.  

Danny knew they weren’t real.  Unfair.  

Nocturne chuckled and tugged on Danny’s newly-bare toes.  

“Don’t,” mumbled Danny, sleepily, not coordinated enough to twitch away.  “Let’s get this over with already.”

“Yes,” said Nocturne, gliding forward.  “Let’s.”

.

The Plain of Dreams was only the greatest of the many places in the Ghost Zone where the ethereal and otherwise elusive energies of dream gathered.  It had been tamed, once, and inhabited, brought to the kind of civilization only known in the dreams of visionaries.  Crystal cities of philosophy.  Hidden villages in perfect harmony with nature.  Utopias of justice, science, and art.  

But those realms were long gone.  When the rulers of the Dream Kingdoms saw the approach of Pariah Dark's armies, they ordered the caged dreamers on whose dreams the foundations of the cities were built woken and released, and their cities faded back into the wilds, and the wilds themselves faded and sunk into slumber until only fragments and memories remained.  

There were ways to navigate them, if one had the right tools.  Ways to access the Dream Wilds where they slumbered, still beautiful, rich, and powerful.  Even with those tools, however, the Dream Wilds were still immeasurably dangerous.  

Even in the Ghost Zone, there were few places where one could be destroyed by their own passing fancy.  

It had taken years upon years for Nocturne to find the lantern-cage, a relic from one of the Dream Kingdoms, traded to a traveler and sold on as a curiosity not long before Pariah took the throne.  Cages not unlike this, but far grander, had held the forever-sleeping dream-architects who had made up the foundations of the great Dream Kingdoms.  The only other Nocturne had ever heard of beyond the borders of the Dreamlands had been from their own collection, melted down to be reforged as part of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.  

The success of that plan had made the sacrifice worth it, but Nocturne still resented it, and the lost opportunities it represented.  

All too often, Nocturne found themself dreaming of what would have been, if they had still had their own lantern-cage.  If they had been able to travel back, to reach the Dream Kingdoms before they fell to ruin entirely, to enter the great halls with a dreamer, and once again let dreams be true.  

But even dreams must bow to time.  

The cage was not all Nocturne needed, nor the only preparation they had to make.  Among other things, the cage was useless without the proper dreamer.  

The Dream Kingdoms had, for the most part, used volunteers.  Specially selected, educated, and prepared, quite literally pampered beyond the dreams of sloth, the dream-architects of old had been remarkable.  But even they were unlikely to have had the qualities Nocturne sought.  

And seek they did, searching high and low, throughout both the Infinite Realms and the human world.  But no matter what dreamer they brought to the Plain of Dreams, no matter how long Nocturne wandered, their lantern did not light the way.  

They had thought it must be a matter of power, and set to collecting dream energy from wherever they could, even going to the human world to gather it from living sleepers.  That particular endeavor did not go well, and they returned to the Realms with less than what they’d started with.  

But then they found that old record, and its list of odd requirements.  Neither alive nor dead, awake nor asleep, willing nor unwilling.  Caged, but uncaptured, hungry, but full, complaisant, but steadfast.  A liminal dreamer was required, and not just any liminal.  

There were only two liminals that Nocturne knew of.  He could, with some effort force either of them to fulfill most of the other conditions.  Waking dreams were well within his capabilities, the right pressure on an Obsession would have any ghost, full or otherwise, walking into a cage.  Hungry but full was trickier, but the lantern-cages were designed to help regulate what their inmates absorbed, among other things that allowed their function of bringing dreams into reality.  A glut of dream energy and a dearth of more traditional forms of sustenance would do nicely for Nocturne’s plans, and if the requirement was more metaphorical, they could adapt.  

The difficulty lay in 'complaisant but steadfast.'

The elder half ghost was widely regarded as a coward, having fled from too many fights he himself had started.  Even if he wasn't, Nocturne had tasted his dreams.  Vlad Masters relished every bit of power he could hold over others, and resented any he could not subjugate or suborn.  

The younger… Any being that could escape a dream crafted by Nocturne had to be described as both willful and strong-willed.  Yet, while the child had dreamed of being recognized and praised for the service he provided, in the waking world he provided those services unasked and unrewarded.  

It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.  Nocturne wasn't about to make more of the creatures.  

From there, their preparations were relatively simple.  Phantom was young and brash, not stupid.  He may have managed to defeat Nocturne once, but the circumstances had been vastly different.  Then, Nocturne had been gathering dream energy and assessing the potential of dreamers.  They had been spread thin, distracted.  

trapping a whole city in slumber.  

Which led to the present moment.  

As during their first encounter, the boy was far more susceptible to dream sand than even ordinary humans.  Nocturne could not recall at the moment whether or not Plasmius had fallen asleep as quickly, or if the weakness was unique to Phantom, but that hardly mattered.  What mattered was that he was working.

Where Phantom's aura fell, the Dream Wilds and all their flora and fauna became real, material, some might even say alive.  The radius of the effect was miniscule.  Nocturne could easily see beyond it, past the golden air and verdant leaves, to where the Plain of Dream was as drab and flat as ever. Phantom was not one of the great dreamers of old.  Nor, Nocturne could already tell, would the masterworks once crafted by those dreamers be making an appearance.  Phantom's conception of the Dream Wilds was too simple, too imperfect to support such complexities.

Butterflies.  Really.  

Even some of Nocturne's earlier dreamers had done better, reached further.  

And yet… the texture, the depth of color, the quality of light… Yes, with Phantom as their lantern, he would reach the ruins at the heart of the Dream Wilds, and finally claim what they had sought for so long.

Lantern in hand, they glided forward, beneath the boughs of the great trees.  

.

Danny had expected it to be dark under the trees.  It had looked dark.  Instead, every leaf, every branch, every flower, every crawling, flying, or running thing, every wisp of colored mist was illuminated by Danny’s own aura, which showed no sign of dimming.  The shadowless quality of the surroundings added to their dreaminess, another layer of unreality on top of the haze, blur, and dazzle.  

Danny slowly turned his head back towards the way they’d come from.  The way he thought they’d come from.  Already, the open Ghost Zone sky was entirely hidden from view.  They could have been walking for hours, not… not…

How long had they been walking?  Had it been hours?  He couldn’t tell.  

Danny really didn’t like this.  But he couldn’t really do anything about it.  He was in a cage, and Nocturne still had his family hostage.  Plus, moving and thinking felt like swimming through honey.  Soft, cozy, comfy honey that made him sleepy.  The way the cage swung helped with that, a gentle, lulling, rocking motion that had him drifting, distracted.  

He blinked hard, rousing back to the half-asleep state Nocturne had put him in.  Being caged was one thing.  Being totally unaware of his surroundings while caged by an enemy was something else.  

“Where are we going?” he asked.  

Nocturne said nothing.  

“Where are we going?” he repeated, adding volume in the hope that it would let his words carry more clearly.  

Nocturne looked down at him contemplatively, clearly weighing options.  Then they smiled, sly, smug, and indulgent.  “We hunt the Beast of Dreams.  A chimera with many forms and faces, it guards the way to our destination.  Three times we must face them, and three times we must gain their tokens, else even your light will not shine on our path.”

“What if we, um.”  Danny licked his lips, trying to recover the thread of his question.  His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.  “What if we can’t find them?”

Nocturne tsked at him.  “What a terrible attitude to have,” they scolded.  “It’s almost as if you don’t care about your family at all.  After all, if you are useless, so are they.”  

They stopped their glide and reached through the bars of the cage, touching Danny’s shoulder where it joined to his neck.  Normally, with his hazmat suit, it wouldn’t even be exposed, but now Danny shivered as Nocturne pushed more energy into him.  He whimpered as his aura burned ever brighter in response.  His core hummed, high and strained, but his heart beat steadily, and his breathing stayed deep and slow.

“Guide me, little lantern, little light,” whispered Nocturne.  “I seek the Beast in the guise of Falsehood, where it lairs at the Gates of Horn and Ivory.  Show me the way.”

Danny had no idea how Nocturne thought he could navigate when he had never been here before and could barely see past his own aura.  No direction seemed better or more notable than any other direction.  

Finally, his eyes landed on a group of trees practically exploding with white and purple flowers.  He twitched his fingers in their general direction.  

Nocturne withdrew their hand and started moving in that direction at once.  Danny let out a sigh as his core gradually returned to a more relaxed state.  

They were looking for 'The Beast of Dreams in the guise of Falsehood.'  What did that even mean?  What did that look like?  Some kind of animal?  Like a fox?  A snake?

"The being we go to meet is the very essence of the deception of dreams.  It is that which makes you forget that you are dreaming, that which make you think the dead are living, and the living, dead, that which calls you late to events long past, that which casts you in a thousand roles whose lines you have never learned.  It is illusion and confabulation, a fabulist beyond all others.  He speaks truth only in service to greater lies."

Danny… understood some of those words.  Maybe if was more awake, he'd know more of them.  

“Even so, within the bounds of this, our trial, he will be forced to some measure of truth.  He must set a true price for his token, when asked three times, and when that price is paid, he must hand it over.  But even such a small honesty is one it despises, and it will seek to mislead us.”

“Mhm,” said Danny.  Beast guy would lie, and lie a lot.  Not much different than dealing with Nocturne themself.  Must be a dream thing.  

His eyes drifted to the trees and flowers outside the cage.  Periodically, glossy leaves reflected his aura back at him, making him blink and wince.  The trees here were really big, most of them towering even over Nocturne.  Which made sense, if Nocturne was from here, and they had those huge butterflies to contend with.  They’d fit their scale.  It still felt weird to Danny, and didn’t help with his deepening sense of unreality.

He blinked again, and his blink must have been longer than he'd thought, because when he opened his eyes, they were no longer walking, but standing under a massive apple tree.  Its branches spread wide and hung heavy with brilliantly red fruit.  No other trees grew under its shadow.  

To either side of the trunk, set into the hedge-like mass of greenery beyond the reach of the single great apple tree, were two tall gates made of pale materials.  Flowering vines grew around them, holding them shut as effectively as any chain. 

Speaking of chains… he shifted uneasily, and listened to the soft clanking of the blankets around him.  Yeah.  They were still messed up by… whatever was going on.  It wasn’t as if Nocturne had actually explained anything, and–

Something in the tree moved.  Danny startled as he realized that something was an immense snake.  Patterned in poisonous green and red, it blended in almost-perfectly with the surrounding leaves and apples.  

Normally, he wouldn’t blink twice at a giant ghost snake.  He’d fought more than his fair share of them.  Cobras, boas, vipers, rattlesnakes, you name it.  But this ghost radiated power far beyond that of a normal animal ghost, and he felt himself shrinking down among the pillows and blankets in an attempt to hide.  

He knew it wouldn’t work.  He was glowing too brightly.  

“Nocturne,” said the snake without moving his mouth.  His was deep and smooth, and reminded Danny of Vlad and, oddly, Clockwork.  “What an unexpected pleasure!”  It extended its head down, beyond the lower branches of the tree, as if in greeting.  “I see you have a new lantern with which to light your way.  I wish you good fortune on your journey, and hope you gain everything you seek.”

Danny winced at the use of the word ‘wish,’ but Desiree didn’t immediately jump out of the bushes, so he forced himself to refocus on the conversation in front of him.  

“Falsehood,” said Nocturne, “I come for your token.  What price have you set for it?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?  It has been so long since your last visit, and you have not even thought to introduce your new friend.”  The snake lowered itself partially to the ground, the end of his tail still hidden in the trees, and began to circle Danny and Nocturne.  “He looks delectable.  I would love to just gobble him up.  That’s a joke, dear.”  It twisted to look more fully at Nocturne.  “I would never dispute your ownership of anything, after all.  Much less the light you steer by.”

“Enough,” said Nocturne.  “What price have you set for your token, that I might move forward?”

The snake shook his head.  "Moving forward, my dear?  Is that what you call this?  I must congratulate you indeed.  And in such a timely manner, too, for just the other night, another lantern-bearer came by, and took for herself the last of my to–"

"What must we pay to receive your token?"

"You won’t let me have even the smallest morsel of fun," complained the snake. "Your mother taught you no manners.  But very well.”  It turned away from both of them, somehow conveying the sentiment of sulking despite its body being a tube.  “In exchange for my token, I require either a thing that is both true and false at once, one lie that will become true, or one truth that will become a lie.”

"Any one?" asked Nocturne suspiciously. 

"The merchant cares not if you pay in gold or silver, only that he is paid."

"I want an answer, not a riddle."

"That is my sister's domain, not mine."

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny.  “Just do it.  If he doesn’t give you anything, then you know he lied.”

“Stupid child.  What do you think he means by ‘will become?’  So long as even a fraction of this place is held in reality, he has the power to make it so, and his games are far worse than those of the jinn you play with.”

“I know the rules as well as you, if not better,” protested the snake.  “I would not break them.”

“You would if you could.”

“I will not break them, then.  It is the same.  If you do not, perhaps I will assume you did come just to visit.  There are so many things you have missed when you were away, dearest.  It breaks my heart.”

“I doubt that.  This place is an abandoned ruin, the merest shadow of what it was.”

“And many places are, since the reign of the Pariah,” said the snake, mildly.  “Yet, even so, you have come here, dreamer in hand.  Do you imagine that everything is where you left it, even as you say that this place has fallen?  Perhaps.  Perhaps not.”

Nocturne shook their head.  “I will not listen to your lies.  You won’t trick me.  Not again.”  They hung Danny’s cage on one of the lower branches and started to pace, hands behind their back.  

The snake sighed, and, to Danny’s alarm, wound around the branch he was suspended from to peer into the cage.  His eyes weren’t like a normal snake’s.  Instead of pupils, they had several spirals in varying shades of red, green, and black, and rotated slowly, hypnotically.  Danny found himself unable to look away, his awareness of Nocturne and, indeed, the rest of the snake fading.  

Until, that is, the snake spoke again.  

“It is just as possible for a lie to be told for a greater truth, as it is for a truth to be told for a lie.  I do not care for you, but my games, as you call them, are for the greater good of all.”

Danny blinked his eyes, which had begun to water, hard.  Crap, that was scary.  Not quite to the level of Freakshow’s staff, but scary.  The only thing that kept him from trying to find a way out right now was that even if he escaped, his family couldn’t.  He needed to stay here, stay strong, for them.  He’d already tried everything he could do on his own.  

“You will accept a statement that is both true and not in exchange for your token?”

“Yes.  Or one truth that will become false, or one falsehood that will become true.  I’m not terribly picky.”

“And you only want to hear this thing, not wipe it from my mind?”

“I don’t even have the power to do that.”

“I know for a fact you do.  You only want to hear this statement, and you will accept that as payment?”

“Oh, are you asking me three times?  It is almost as if you don’t trust me.  That’s hurtful, after our long acquaintance.”

“Will you, or will you not, accept a statement both true and false as payment?”

“I will, I will!”  The snake sniffed loudly, a sound Danny didn’t even think snakes could make…  Then again, this snake was talking, a ghost, and maybe also a dream (Danny was unclear on that point), so, really, they were already far beyond that point.  “I know you don’t consider me worthy of respect, but shouldn’t you at least respect the rites and rules?  It will go much more smoothly.  Quickly, too, if that’s something you’re after.”

Nocturne smothered a growl.  They raised a knuckle to their lips, the starry blackness of the digit standing out starkly against their mask-like face.  “Then my payment is this: the path I seek is the one that leads to the Crown and Cup of Dreams.”

The snake laughed, an odd, barking noise.  “And you say I never taught you anything.”

Nocturne opened their mouth as if to argue, expression pinched and sour, but then closed it, thoughtfully.  “You are trying to distract me.  I have given you payment.  I expect your token in return.”

The snake sighed long and heavy.  It wound its way onto a nearby branch and pointed its nose at one of the apples.  “Any of these apples may serve as my token.”

Nocturne quickly picked the apple the snake had indicated.  Then, they flew to where Danny’s cage still hung.

In Nocturne’s hand, the apple was large.  Big enough that it wouldn’t look strange if they tried to take a bite out of it.  Big enough that if it was hollowed out, Danny could fit in it comfortably.  But that wasn’t what Nocturne did.  Instead, they brought the apple to the bars of the cage, and as it passed through them, it shrunk down until it could fit easily in Danny’s hands.  

The perspective made Danny’s head swim.  It didn’t work.  But it did, and it was, and Nocturne was pressing the apple against his lips.  

“Eat,” they said.  Despite their earlier anger, that smug, teasing smile was once again bending the corners of their lips upward.  “The purpose of these tokens is to ensure the lantern can light the way.”

Danny leaned away from the apple, squinting at it.  "No," he said.  

It wasn't as if Danny's parents had ever sent him to Sunday School (the Holy Spirit was bad enough.  The Holy Ghost?  You got the picture), but Sam had always been delighted to share the darker stories, and Tucker’s parents went to church on Sunday mornings, whether Danny was staying over or not.  Plus, he did try to pay attention to literary symbolism in English, even if Mr. Lancer didn't think so.  

A snake offering apples?  Bad news. 

Maybe if Nocturne was the one being told to eat it, or if Danny's friends and family weren't on the line, he wouldn't have said anything, because screw Nocturne.  But they weren't and they were.  

"This isn't your token.  You're lying."a

The snake chuckled.  "Clever child."

Nocturne snarled and darted forward, clawed hand closing around the serpent's neck.  The edges of their form were flared out, like feathers or fur.  The apple fell down and vanished among the pillows and blankets.  

"I have paid your price.  I fulfill every requirement to walk this path, and you have no right to keep it from me!"

The serpent evaporated and reformed deep among the branches of the apple tree.  “You call me a liar, when you tell such untruths yourself!  Every right is mine, and mine alone!  Nor was I paid.”

“I gave you my statement, both true and untrue.  You will not cheat me.  Not now.”

“Did you?” asked the snake, clearly delighted by this turn of events.  

“How dare you speak of rules and respect, when you desecrate this ancient rite?  How dare you stand in my way, when I–”

“Indeed!  Who else should stand in your way?  My sisters and brothers?  All those with a greater claim to this path?”

As it turned out, despite everything, Danny had been paying attention to the whole conversation, even if he hadn’t followed all of it.  Nocturne had been sure the snake couldn’t lie if he was asked the same thing three times… so maybe he didn’t.  

“If the token is for me,” he said, slowly, “is Nocturne the one who has to pay the price, or is it me?  When you said ‘you’ earlier, you were talking to me, weren’t you?  I’m the one who needs to say one of those three things?”

The snake approached again, and Danny hastily averted his eyes.  "I like this one, Nocturne.  He reminds me of you, when you were younger, and better behaved."  He paused, significantly.  "And smarter.  Yes, little light, you are the one who must answer me, if you desire my token.  Of course if you do not…"  

Danny understood what the snake was implying, but he did, in fact, need that token.  

He really hated hostage situations.

But if what Nocturne had implied about the snake’s powers was true, maybe he could use this.  After all, nothing said the lie had to be his.

"Nocturne said they'd bring my family and friends out of their comas if I help them.  Can I give you that as the lie?"

The snake started laughing.  Danny, meanwhile, felt like his brain had been peeled out of his body and he was floating over his skin.  The persistent misty softness had converged on him, and now he was floating.  

"I had doubted before, but now I understand how it is that you were the one to defeat Pariah Dark.  Nocturne, dear, he has to be able to take the token.  I doubt keeping him like that will prevent him from vexing you, anyway."

“I can make him take it.”

“As you would.  Now–”

“You have not been this cooperative before.”

“Perhaps I simply want you gone.  You are, as I have mentioned, incredibly rude.  And ugly.  And I find what you are doing to be repugnant, as you yourself would, had you given it thought beyond your base desires.  Not that you listen to me–”

“You’re going to try to pass off something random as your token again, aren’t you?  And then you’ll claim it is because you didn’t give it to him, you cheat.”

“Me?  A cheat?  Never.  Or only at card games.  It is very difficult to play a hand when you don’t have any.”

“You aren’t even a snake.  You only look that way because of how he’s dreaming you.  But what I don’t understand is why you seem to want him awake.  You’re never this transparent.”

“Are you sure I want him awake?  Perhaps that is only what I want you to think.  Ah, and now you’re tying yourself in circles.  A shame.  Once you were good at this.  Or at least passable.  And you wonder why you couldn’t even hold the dreams of a single human city, much less the power that passes through here.”

“I am the Master of Dreams, and–”

“Only because there was no one else qualified.”

There was a long silence, and Danny felt himself drifting back to the surface of awareness.  That had been… strange.  

“Give him,” said Nocturne, their voice gravely with suppressed rage, “your token.”

Danny noticed with some alarm that the snake was wound around the cage.  When did it get so close?  Why did it get so close?  His scales flashed at him.  

“Take two,” said the snake.  

“What?”

“Take two of my scales.  Together, they make my token.”

“And… am I supposed to eat them or something?”  That… was that the right thing to ask?  Everything was still a bit floaty.  “Don’t laugh,” he said, crossly as the snake started to snicker.  It did that a lot.  “I’m serious.  You wanted me to eat the other thing.  The, um, the apple.  Are you going to make me eat these, too?”

“Take them and find out.”

Danny glanced back at Nocturne, but they didn’t make any objection this time.  Carefully and slowly, he crawled over the blankets to the bars of the cage.  Because of the way the bottom of the cage was curved and how the pillows and blankets were ever so slightly higher near the outside edge, he had to hold onto one of the bars to stay in place.  

“Any two?” he asked.

“No, the two you get by adding one and one.”

Danny glared at the snake for a moment, but quickly returned to looking at the scales.  Each one was only a little smaller across than his palm.  They glittered, and Danny blinked sleepy tears out of his eyes.  He adjusted his grip on the bars and resisted the temptation to lie down.  

He really didn't want to do this.  

"It won't hurt you?" he asked. That wasn't his main concern, but… in the moment, it was a concern.

"No more than pulling free a hair."

Depending on the hair, that could hurt quite a bit.  He reached out and grabbed a scale at random.  It slid free with surprising ease.

Most of it was green, but the edge of it was vivid red, as if it had been rolled in blood.  He tucked it quickly into the pocket at his breast, and reached for the next scale.  This one was green all over, a smooth gradient from one side to the other.  

He let go of the bar and slid back into the cozy nest in the center of the cage as if guided by an outside force.  Even without Nocturne’s intervention, the blankets and pillows tucked themselves in around him.  If anything, he felt even more secure than before, only head and hands free.  

But he was sitting there, holding the scales, one in each hand.  

In dreams, occasionally a dreamer is seized by knowledge or need apropos of nothing.  They know that this is their grandmother's house, even though it's obviously the grocery store.  They know they must hold the cards with only their left hand, or otherwise they'll lose, never mind what game they're playing.  Sometimes, too, the dreamer simply acts.  The impetus for their actions obscure, not originating from their own thoughts.  Jumping from cars, yelling, fighting, eating, smoking, cheating on tests, being unable to stop.  

Danny, not thinking about anything in particular, raised the scales to his eyes.  They sunk into his skin without a trace.  

At first, he rubbed his skin and eyes furiously, hoping to find a way to peel them off, but then… 

He saw.  

He could see.  

Before, it had been difficult to keep his eyes open, impossible to see past his own aura, but now everything looked so clear, from the leaves, to the apples, to the grass, to the gates and the ruins beyond them.  

"You see, now," said the snake, kindly.  "The purpose of my token is to shield your eyes, so you can see.  And, I suppose, better guide the one that carries you.  Before, you burned too brightly for your own good, but now…"  

Danny nodded as the snake spoke.  Vaguely, he felt as if he shouldn't agree with him, but what he was saying made sense.  He did see better.  He saw more.  

Most things were still misty, out of the corners of his eyes, but directly in front of them, they were clear and crisp.  Sharp.  Well defined.  

He could even see the path on the forest floor, where it ran underneath them and to one of the pale gates - which didn't look nearly as overgrown as he had originally thought.  

(There was something very wrong with that thought, with all these thoughts.  But this thought, in turn, slipped away and disappeared.)

“Which way, child?” asked Nocturne.  “We have wasted enough time here.”

Danny’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, so he pointed instead.  It was strange that Nocturne could not see the path.  Nocturne walked that way, lantern in hand.  And when had he picked the cage back up?  Danny was missing something.

“Nocturne,” called the snake.  “I meant what I said.”

“About what?”

“All of it.  Give my sister-self my regards.”

#ectoberhaunt #23 day 5 #23 prompt hunt #23 calendar science #eh23 #ectoberhaunt23 #danny phantom

[writingjourney]

I’m in need of some advice and kind words. As a fellow writer I’m really struggling to believe people will and want to read my stuff. There’s no real engagement anymore and I’m worried that if I post my long-form fic that no one will give it a chance. It’s really bringing me down because I love it so much but it feels like no matter what I try to do my stuff just doesn’t get seen or liked? I’ve even thought about changing my entire way of how I do things since I don’t think the way I write is working for the masses. How do you keep up the motivation as a popular writer and do you have an advice?

Hello anon!! I feel like this is something many of us currently deal with. And first of all I seriously hope that you do share your story!! ♡

To be completely honest with you the lack of engagement in the fandom has for sure impacted my own motivation which is why I haven't been putting as much time into longer fics (nor the Friday Nights series or IKNBS, I do write but I refuse to force myself). I don't feel any urgency because uploading fics hasn't made me as happy as it used to. It feels like only other active writers are reading fic atm and it creates a lot of pressure on creatives to stay super active.

I'm aware that I'm insanely privileged to have the engagement that I do have, that the type of stories I want to write are also the type of stories that generally seem to appeal. However, engagement tells you NOTHING about the quality of your work, only how many people are active in a fandom or like a specific pairing/character/trope. Your own unique voice matters more than numbers.

I also notice that a lot of people who used to read my works have disappeared which I completely understand. The fixation can ebb away during times of inactivity or when a certain hype dies down. People just don't get that dopamine hit anymore and move on. It's also entirely possible they get tired of a certain style of writing and prefer other writers at times, what do I know. I definitely don't blame anyone for that. First and foremost people should read for their own enjoyment and engage with fandom in a way that makes them happy. It makes no sense to pressure people into engaging. A huge issue right now is people overthinking these things which makes support transactional instead of genuine.

I don't care much about notes but I REALLY miss the feeling of sharing a fic with people who are excited for it, that sense of an active community. BUT the activity will come back – the movie will come out, new music and videos, heck even a whole new Papa!!! That's the natural flow of things. We can't be excited and super active all the time, we need phases of calmness as well (which is an act of rebellion in the capitalist hellscape of overproduction and churned out content. I am honestly glad Ghost is taking it easy).

Now, I recommend you write your story exactly how you want to!!! do NOT change it for the sake of popularity because it will lose its very soul and you will struggle to be happy with it by the end. You know how you want to tell your story and nothing else matters. It will find its readers or you can wait and share it at a later point. I recommend that you approach other writers and readers and intensify that contact, make friends and talk to them about your stories, hype each other up, share snippets. It's even more meaningful to know people you like enjoy what you do. I am currently working on super niche fics for non-Ghost characters and I'm honestly having a great time chasing that dopamine by just writing what I'm really into and sharing it with friends. Fandom is community, fandom is fun and we can work to make it better for everyone.

A few general tips when it comes to making stories accessible: Format them to be readable (paragraphs!!), add a "read more" break, add proper content information and a nice summary to draw people in, add some visual appeal like a banners or stock image edits (like i do for IKNBS) and then tag the fics with relevant tags (and only those). Also make sure to tag the OG post, tags on reblogs do nothing for reach. Engage with the community when you feel like it and it's likely that the community will engage back. Being supportive is worth it, being kind is always worth it even if it amounts to nothing.

#your fear is valid and wanting engagement is valid!!! #but don’t let it stop you from writing :) #asks #anon

[dg-outlaw]

Emotional Damage. Worse than the Joker?

After sitting with Batman #138, I got to thinking about how much emotional damage Bruce inflicted on Jason with what he did to Jason. Working through some things myself lately, I thought more about fear and how it relates to survival, endurance, and the hang-ups we have that affect our lives. But less about me and more about Jason Todd.

Yes, I know there’s the idea that it’s all Zur-En-Arrh and not really Bruce, but still. If there was something to snap Bruce out of whatever battle is going on in his mind, mentally altering (without consent) and "abusing" his own son in such a deep way, should’ve been it.

I know some have cited how adrenaline kicks in during all sorts of activities and scenarios (and not just in times of violence or aggression), which is true, but what I thought about was how much adrenaline and will has played a part in Jason’s overall survival as a character.

As a boy who grew up in Crime Alley with a drug addicted mother, Catherine, that he cared for often, his childhood was probably filled with fear. But giving into fear is something that likely doesn’t help you survive in Crime Alley, especially when Jason became orphaned. He fended for himself, took care of Catherine until she died, and then took care of himself. He was probably afraid all the time, but he pushed through with adrenaline, cortisol, and whatever else he needed to survive.

Then Bruce happened. As Jason Todd he was given a bit of peace, but then it was back to survival mode as a Robin—though likely a choice he made with Bruce’s approval because what little boy wouldn’t want to be Robin? The role of Robin alone is all about adrenaline, survival, and combatting fear.

Then there was the Joker.

We all know the story, but I think about it again as I see posts about the young actress who played Ahsoka in the live-action series and how it helped some contextualize the idea of child soldiers and just how young Ahsoka was during the Clone Wars. The same can be said for the Robins. So now we can think about a young, scrawny boy, alone in a warehouse getting beaten nearly to death by a psychopath with a crowbar. Again, fear, loneliness, and potential loss of hope. But Jason endured, and even in the end tried to save himself and his mother through use of adrenaline and sheer force of will.

Flash forward and Jason is suddenly alive, still broken and bruised but basically buried alive. More fear and another chance to let it finish him off, but Jason doesn’t give in. He pushes fear aside, breaks through his casket, and crawls out from his grave. Again, still a teenager and still alone as he wandered the streets, confused and hungry. All of this to say that Jason is fucking survivor, probably more so than Bruce (IMO).

Bruce may have harnessed and used his fear, but he suppresses it. Jason owns it, lives it, and has had it looking over his soldier for as long as he can probably remember. It probably whispers in his ear all the time and says, “You’re still just a scared little boy and you’re going to die. Just give up.” But he doesn’t. Yes, he’s easily written off as the angry one or the one always pissing everyone off, but I think that’s just his defense mechanism. It’s the wall that hides his fear, but unlike Bruce he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to let his emotions out, even when he tries not to. I want to believe those behaviors are Jason venting his fear and anger so they don’t consume him or so he doesn't get hurt, even if he doesn’t always do it in the most healthy of ways.

So yeah, for Bruce to think that somehow Jason is going to live some happy American Dream in Metropolis (God forbid any aliens or bad guys attack that city, something that never happens), then Bruce still doesn’t know his son.

In way, whether it’s all Zur-En-Arrh’s doing or not, turning Jason’s adrenaline into crippling fear, taking a core part of him that has kept him alive and fighting all these years, is worse than what the Joker did.

So I don’t think any amount of Bat or Big Belly burgers and hugs will fix that. My only hope, based on the description for Red Hood, Issue #2: (JASON TODD PREPARES FOR BATTLE! Batman's plan for Jason Todd backfires…but in a good way? The Red Hood prepares for the final battle of the Gotham War…but what will he have left when the dust settles?!), is that Jason finds a way to overcome Bruce’s programming on his own. I think if Bruce created a failsafe for the failsafe, or if one of the other Batfam members helps him, it’ll cheapen his character. I’m fine if someone is there to support him, but I think if the writers want to respect Jason and show his strength as a character, it’ll be Jason doing the work to prove his will is stronger than Bruce’s when he beats the fear programming. We even see this in a different way in Urban Legends when Jason was able to fight off the Cheer gas to save Bruce.

But for now, when I see this.

I’ll think about this Bruce and Jason instead.

#jason todd #red hood #batman #batman comics #you got this Jason #thanks for coming to my TED Talk

[whumblr]

Bookish

The call of her name made her stop in her tracks, just a few paces beyond his open office door. Cautiously, she took the two steps backwards and arched her back to glance inside.

He sat at his desk, a soft scowl on his face as if she’d actively interrupted him. He’d probably looked up when he noticed her walk past. With a callous gesture of his hand he waved her in.

“What are you doing?”

“Just walking.” She stood rigid in front of his desk, forcing herself to make eye contact. As if she was trying to hide some form of guilt. Was she? Had she been caught doing something she shouldn’t? There was no rule for walking around this stupid house and if there was it was worth to pick a fight over. Maintaining eye contact, she silently dared him to start one.

A sly smirk started forming at his lips and he sat back, the leather chair creaking under his weight. “If you’re bored or otherwise unhappy with your time, I can think of some ways to spend it.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not bored,” she said stone-faced, now knowing that there were 1185 bricks covering the bare walls of her room, 1054 tiles in the bathroom, and 86 ways to kill him in the cutlery drawer. 86 recipes for disaster. 86 ways for him to return the compliment. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He hummed and she could hear that he didn’t believe her.

Then, abruptly, he shoved his chair backwards and stood. “Come with me.”

She froze. “To the basement?”

“No,” he said, tone lightly exasperated and with a soft tsk. 

To her surprise, his hand merely brushed over her elbow as he walked past, a soft incentive to follow, instead of his usual death grip while dragging her along. She turned and cautiously went after him.

“I’d rather not have you clawing up the walls out of boredom,” he said, feeling around in his pocket and pulling out a key.

“Funny, I’d rather claw up something else.”

“My point...” They didn’t walk far. He opened the door next to his office, led her inside, and flicked on the light.

She couldn’t help a small gasp.

And for once during her extended stay here, it wasn’t in fear or dread.

With a soft “Oh” her eyes roamed over the absolutely stacked walls. Rows and rows of bookshelves crossed over the walls, from floor to ceiling, all filled to their utmost capacity but still neatly packed without clutter or stacked up books on top of each other. There wasn’t a bare speck of wall left.

In the middle of the room stood a large table to work on, but near the window in a little niche was a nice comfy leather armchair.

Who knew he was hiding a personal little library inside this prison he called a mansion…

“Most are on psychology and psychiatry, some physiology,” he said, letting his fingers slide over the spines absentmindedly, “but I gather you have an interest in that...” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes following her as she roamed about, her lips still parted in pleasant surprise.

Even if they were on bricklaying or motorbikes, this still beat sitting in a room staring at the wall and waiting for the next bout of pain. But yes, she had to admit, they had a common interest here.

“All these books,” she couldn’t help herself, “and you still haven’t found the one that explains what’s wrong with you.”

His lips tugged in a smile. He stepped forward and pulled out a book, casually handing it to her. “I thought we’d agreed on sadism.”

She accepted the book – Freud – turning it over and scanning the blurb. “Maybe I can find out by myself...”

“You’re welcome to spend your time in here. Just don’t make a mess, put everything back where it belongs. You can do that?”

She’d noticed everything was in alphabetic order and nodded absentmindedly, head tilted as her eyes roaming over the titles. “I can count to K.” She pulled out a book on physiology (always convenient to learn about some weak spots) and stacked it on the book he gave her.

“Know that this is a privilege,” he droned on. “It can be taken away again.”

"Yes, yes…” She didn’t ask what she’d done to deserve this. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Probably there was something in it for him – her not clawing his eyes out due to boredom, for example. Or maybe it was a good leverage point if she just refused to do as he said (again). Violence didn’t work (yet), but taking away something she loved… Well, she’d cross that bridge when they got there…

“And when I call for you, you will answer. I have a schedule to keep, after all.”

“What, you have a schedule for your torture times?”

“It’s more when the mood strikes. And I’m starting to get in the mood,” he finished in a dark tone.

She got the hint and remained silent, walking away from him and putting her stack of books down on the table with a heavy satisfying thud.

“No 'thank you'?” he murmured, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes and focus on the pages in front of her. “Well, I can always wring one out later…”

-

Continued here

Tagging: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @scribbelle

#just a lil something lady angsty #lady whump #something a lil different #I could almost call this 'comfort'... almost #captivity #whumpers can be nice #angst #implied torture #snarky whumpee #defiant whumpee #my writing #whump drabble #need to write more lady stuff

[drainslo]

Chishiya x Reader Angst(One-Shot)

Chishiya's reaction to when he loses the reader to a set-up.

I had already come up with my suicide mission. Everyone at camp knew the plan behind my final stand.

Everyone except Chishiya.

He knew there was something going on, since I caught him staring at me with his usual analytical stare every time I talked to Aguni.

I just hoped that he wouldn’t catch on before I talked to him. I couldn’t speak to him until the last moments before the trap was set up so he wouldn’t scheme a plan to stop me. 

The day of the set up arrived. I entrusted Kuina to tell the others that I was letting Chishiya know about my plan so we could have privacy while they set up the area with traps.

I found Chishiya in his usual place, and asked him to go on a walk with me before we all risked our lives to take down the King of Spades. “I want to talk to you privately, in case anything happens you know” I suggested, guiding him towards the riverside.

He quirked an eyebrow, “Why would anything happen? Our job was to set up the distraction to bait out the King. We have the remote activated explosives already built, thanks to my cunning genius. Unless…” his eyes narrowed. “ The plan has been changed to put you in harm's way?”

I sighed, and stopped next to an old green bench. “The problem with the remote explosives was that it would be too obvious this was a trap. The plan is for me to pose as bait. As a master hunter who set up the traps, to try to take the King of Spades myself. I’ll let him pursue me for a bit and…”

“When he kills you the others will have their chance” Chishiya finished, his stare gone blank.

“I need to do this to save the others. And I’m also going to save you, because I’m going to force you to choose. You made Kuzuryu choose between life or death, now it’s your turn,” I smiled. “I don’t want you to stay or leave this hell based on my decision, because I love you. With you, I can’t be selfish. I want you to live. And I want you to choose living, in whatever way speaks to your soul.”

I knew that he wasn’t expecting this, no matter how well he could read people. His one flaw was that he never completely understood what drove me to win all these games.

He could manipulate the King of Diamonds himself into the same choice I forced on him, but he thought that my love and will to live would keep me alive until the end.

He probably guessed this entire time I was scheming to get involved in some sniper position, not outrightly killed. 

I wasn't even sure if Chishiya understood that even now I was mostly doing this for him aside from the others. If I was alive, he would just follow me without forging his own path.

I wanted him to find meaning in his own life without the influence of anyone else.

I glanced up at his face. Again, it was so obvious that he wasn’t anticipating that I would sacrifice myself to the King of Spades. In fact, his face had gone completely blank like it was now a mask.

One of his classical defense mechanisms for hurt. 

“Chishiya… my love. Remember all the times you called yourself an empty shell? You couldn’t even see the value of your own life. That may have been true at one point but listen to me: you’re beautiful, your soul is so beautiful. I don’t think you would ever believe it if I told you before, I don’t think you still quite believe it.”

“So you’re going to show me?” His eyes were now slightly wider than they should’ve been.

“Yes. I love you. And I’m doing this because I love you more than anything.” I stepped closer to him, bridging the gap between us. His smell was so familiar, and I tried to memorize every inch of it. It was a mixture of the pine forest around us, and his own human scent. 

He cupped my cheek, and a tear slipped from my eye. He murmured “I always knew you would try something stupid, I just didn’t think you would go to this length because of me” and placed a light kiss on my head.

“And there’s-” he started, but I cut him off. “There’s no other way to optimize our chances without requiring someone to bait the King. It was my idea.”

Chishiya went silent, god I would miss his silence. I studied his face, now gone blank again. I had already memorized every inch of his face. Where his moles were, where the angles of his face changed in the light.

And I noticed the shift in his face immediately.

I had considered the possibility that his abandonment issues could be triggered by this, yet I thought his defenses he put up before he met me would allow him to make it until the Queen of Hearts was defeated. There were only two blimps left after all, and even after I was gone it wouldn’t be long until the games ended.

But Chishiya defied my readings, maybe intentionally, his eyes crinkled up like he was going to cry.

Then tears silently slid out of his eyes, and I noticed he was pinching himself, fighting to feel physical pain rather than emotional.

“I loved you. I really did” he said quietly, already speaking to me like I was a dead woman walking. “I trusted you not to leave me,” he continued, while I watched our hearts shatter in front of me and his heart slowly revert to its original state. “But you always surprised me. Until the very end” he smiled sardonically.

I stood rigid, afraid to move or speak or breathe. I didn’t want to shatter the moment, once it suddenly became glass.

Chishiya had held me hostage with his words, and I could only listen as he forged on, determined to make my heart bleed the way I was about to make his.

He shot a smirk at me, which heavily contrasted with the tear stains on his face. “They always leave, of course. It’s only human nature to betray, hence why the heart games exist. I’m seriously impressed by the way you made my heart bleed through a Spades game. I think I’m forever damaged, (name). This may be the end of my line as well. I always scoffed at the idea of dying from a broken heart, but I’m starting to believe it’s possible. My father may have been cruel, but at least he never presented love as a choice. You, (name) are the–”

“Stop.” I covered Chishiya’s mouth. “You’re deliberately trying to be cruel Chishiya, I see through you. You’re trying to manipulate me into staying with you. I’ve already made up my mind, so please don’t make these last moments any harder than they need to be.”

More tears slid down his face, and he hung his head down knowing I had just caught him. Chishiya pulled me into his arms for a hug, and then kissed me like he had never before.

His salty kiss said good-bye.

Chishiya pulled away from our kiss, his forehead touching mine. “I’m always going to find a way you, either in this world or any other.”

He squeezed me tightly then placed a chaste kiss on my cheek. I never thought I would see him like this.

His voice broke, and was shaking as he spoke. “Go. Before I take on the King of Spades myself.”

“I would like to see you in my next life,” I whispered to Chishiya as I walked away.

I couldn't look back, or I would have flung myself back to him.

I grabbed an automatic at camp, waiting for Aguni to signal at me to run towards the approaching blimp.

Kuina triggered the first trap to draw the King's attention, and Aguni frantically waved his hand.

So I had no choice but to run my destiny, leaving everything behind: My heart, my love, my Chishiya.

#imawa no kuni no arisu #aib #alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #aib chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

[ask-the-pale-elf]

“Have you…” they start, voice shaking, “Astarion, have you ever wondered… why? Why was it that I always chose to help whoever asked and even those who didn’t? Wondered why I was so willing, so eager, to put my neck on the line,” they briefly snort at the unintentional pun, “for others? Why I’m always volunteer for the first night watch shift or so quick to give potions? Have you ever wondered that?”

They stop for a moment to take a deep breath before they continue, voice more akin to a whisper, “Did you think it was because I’m gullible or weak or naive to how this world is? Because if so…” their voice hardens as their arms curl tighter around them and they look him in the face as if daring for him to disagree with what they say next, “I can assure you that I am not.”

“On the contrary, I know all too well of how wicked and vile the world we live in is,” their voice gets stronger and harsher the longer they speak, “I know that so many people die, and starve, and hurt, and cry, and suffer every single day. I li--“ they cut themself off abruptly before taking a deep breath to reigntheir emotions back in and loosen their hold around themself, “I get it.”

“The reason I do the things I do is because I actively choose to do them. I try to be the person I wished was there for me.” Their voice is gentle once more and their gaze softens, “I know it would be easier to be selfish. Hells, some days I’m really tempted to just… give in and be cruel because it would be so, so much easier than what I’m actually doing. But I don’t. You want know why?”

“Because I know I’ll regret it later. I know I’ll regret giving in and being cruel like those who were cruel to me. So instead, I stay kind. Give myself away, piece by piece. If my pain can lessen anyone else’s pain, I’m fine with that. What’s one more drop in the ocean?” They ask rhetorically and follow it with light laughter, “I would’ve been a good follower of Ilmater, huh?”

“Anyways,” they clear their throat before vaguely gesturing as if trying to brush everything off, “Sorry for that spiel. Didn’t mean to say all of that. What you do and how you do what you do is of no business to me. I don’t judge. I just wanted to asked if you could keep that in mind. Well,” they stretch out their arms and back before moving to start back to the campfire, “now that that’s been said, I should get started on food for the rest of the camp. You’re welcome to your own meal later if you want. See ya, Astarion.”

(Hi, sorry this was so long, if you don’t want to answer such a long ask, that’s fine! I have a rather… ‘descriptive’ writing style naturally, so I understand. I’d also probably like to shoot more asks like this if you were okay with longer asks… and angst cause I have a bunch of that. - Starlight (not necessarily cause of Astarion, but because I’m an astronomy nerd))

Astarion's eyes hardened, his fangs poking out of his lips threatening to pierce skin. A cruel laugh was forced out of his mouth, "Oh, how kind! How merciful of you, a great hero saving everyone from their troubles! How.... quaint."

His sneers highlighted how much he despised your kindness, it was pathetic. It was petty, he knew this but it didn't erase how much he wished you would just ignore everyone else and just focused on yourself. Then it would be far easier to understand you, he could relate to you and then try to persuade you to his side. No... not try, succeed, you wouldn't need that much convincing.

But oh you... you just had to be the good guy didn't you. You had to help people out of the "goodness of your heart." Astarion could gag himself with a spoon.

Astarion gritted his teeth together and glared straight into your soul, "If you're done trying to make me feel bad for not being a saint like yourself, I have something to say in return."

He placed his hand on his dead heart and gave the fakest smile you that you had ever seen, "You don't get to lecture me and walk away, you don't get to try to make me feel bad about myself and have the final say. Oh, no, no, no! You are staying right here, and you're going to listen."

"It is easier to be selfish, for gods' sake! It's necessary, do you really think that everyone gets a knight in shining armor to save them?! NO! They get pain, they get anguish, they get despair, and they get all their hopes ripped away from them even when they think they don't have any left. I know what you are, you just want to feel better than people like me... Who know how fucked up they are and know what they deserve."

By this point, Astarion's bared fangs were practically inches away from your face, "Because after 200 years of shit. PURE SHIT! I think I deserve something better. And I don't need some foolish hero like you to get in my way."

With his fuming face and his clawed hands balled up into fists, he gives you one last glare before walking away.

#my darling starlight #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate iii #bg3 rp #astarion rp #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3 #astarion roleplay #bg3 roleplay #astarion x mc #ghost's posts #astarion x you #sorry for the lack of updates today shit hit the fan #and yeah astarion wouldn't take your whole thing well #he's just petty af #don't take it personally #he's deflecting as per usual

[cafesanscreme]

A Rei Refined.

I might be in the minority, but I found episode 8 rather refreshing. It was good to revisit some of my earlier musings around ‘affection’ and ‘love’ and ‘permanence’ with Rei as the guide. It was even better to see them settling into this period of ‘acceptance’ not just with themselves, but with what they have. What they have built together. 

I think a lot of the perception from some fans was that they weren’t close — if you’ve read either of my previous thesis statements on this, you might get the sense that I didn’t believe that to be the case, and I’m glad this episode acts as a bit of vindication and helps to do away with that rhetoric. In this era of oversharing, relationships like ‘KazuRei’ where both parties don’t know ‘all your business’ (as my mom would say) are interpreted as being ‘distant’. I even saw someone say ‘they are just acquaintances as far as I’m concerned’ — which sure, we’re all allowed our own interpretation, but for me that has never checked out. Even as someone who is not generally a “shipper” per se,  I’ve always thought to myself: 

‘Kazuki’s room…that’s a bit involved to simply be ‘crashing’ but ok….’  

And I think it all goes back to the concept of happiness and permanence and affection and love.  

Kazuki was forcing himself to remember the negatives which, in turn, forced him to ignore or repress the positives. He didn’t want to be happy in his new life and used an illogical matrix of guilt as punishment. Kazuki actively sabotaged himself and forced Yuzuko into the negative role of ‘happiness gatekeeper,’ he made it so that he was unable to be happy because of her. I noticed early on that a large part of Kazuki’s method for creating distance was telling himself (and Miri) that he was simply crashing at Rei’s. He couldn’t allow himself the happiness of calling it his home, despite the fact that he furnished it, he supplies it, he cares for it …that he’s been living there for at least two years… 

Rei is a bit different. My personal opinion is that Rei has always been the most comfortable of the two in acknowledgement of their ‘permanence’ — not to say that he readily accepted it, because he didn’t, but I personally believe that Rei, internally, folded a lot quicker than Kazuki did. I think his lack of expressiveness came from the fact that he simply never wanted to seem needy, which was fostered by his upbringing. 

At the same time, Rei  also uses his upbringing, his mechanical and emotionless delivery, and his closed off nature as a shield and an excuse. His behavior is often easily explained away by Kazuki, us as the audience, and even himself, as merely being a consequence of his upbringing. And while it is, Rei does have agency. He chooses to let Kazuki ‘take control’ of his daily care, cut his hair, feed him… and he liked it…likes it. He likes it to the point where Kazuki has been living with him nearly 3 years now… 

The logic might sound weird, but based on how Rei was raised, I think he’d actively chose to seem unappreciative rather than dependent. He isn’t supposed to live for his own higher purpose or his own pleasure. He’s supposed to live for, breathe for, sacrifice for, the organization. Taking pleasure and happiness in something else — seeming to need something else — is not acceptable. And so you get a Rei who is actually wholly appreciative of Kazuki, but at the same time, does not, and in some ways, feels like he can not express his appreciation verbally or outwardly because it would be acknowledging a vulnerability or weakness. 

But it’s very obvious especially after episode 7 that Rei has cared for quite some time now.  To quote Hannibal:  Abandonment requires expectation.  Rei immediately jumping to abandonment speaks loudly to his attachment to Kazuki. And it’s not just because Kazuki cooks and cleans. We see from episode 8 that Rei was fine to live off take-out and in filth. Rei was just missing him. Kazuki not being there, being gone for some reason that wasn’t an assignment, was not something Rei was able to comprehend or to accept in a mature manner. 

We see Kazuki also fears Rei leaving and going back home. A solemn curiosity about what would be a major disruption for Miri yes, but also for Kazuki.

Beyond that though, mutual respect and affection and yes, even love, come with respecting boundaries — accepting that people will share in their own time. But also understanding that a lack of sharing isn’t an indictment on how that person feels about you or how they see you.  Kazuki says he won’t ask and Rei says, he wouldn’t tell and they leave it at that. Kazuki doesn’t push and Rei doesn’t push and neither get offended by the lack of ‘interest’ the other has in their trauma. 

Love and affection are also knowing when it’s OK to ignore some of the more harmful self imposed boundaries like Kazuki did in episode 8 when Rei said he wanted to blow of some steam. Rei likely wouldn’t have gained anything from being alone and stewing in his own self-resentment. Kazuki showing he cares enough to bring Rei back home so they can celebrate his birthday before midnight was helpful in that while sure, it’s ‘overbearing’, it also proved to Rei once again, why he made the choices he made in the conversations with his dad to protect Kazuki. 

If no one, not even his own father cares…Kazuki does. Kazuki will. Rei needed that, in the moment. 

And maybe I am merely overthinking it, but I thought there was something very nice and almost sensual about Kazuki and Rei continuing the birthday celebration despite Miri falling asleep. Rei blowing out the candles with Kazuki as the sole audience and celebrating his 26th birthday with the person who has cared most about him (barring Miri) in his entire life after such an intense day. The whole thing felt..dare I say...romantic.

#buddy daddies #rei suwa #suwa rei #buddy daddies spoilers #kurusu kazuki #kazuki kurusu #i want to write about miri too #kazurei #also want to write more about ep. 8

[melodymelancholyart]

We’ve reached 100 followers, and of course here’s your reward lol

The Smosh Pony Celebration Post!🎉

I’m going to supply the Smosh pony art I made in middle school , more art of the “Smosh in Equin” mock au, and Smosh pony designs based on Ian and Anthony’s current appearances! My two hyper fixations merged into an abomination of god!💕 This post is a long one so I hope you all enjoy!

I’ve noticed that some of you guys aren’t familiar with Mlp lore I don’t blame you I’ll supply some terminology and definitions so we’re all on the same page. I’ll be focusing on the lore of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic which I’ll be shortening to MLPFIM for simplicity sake. I’ll only go over really basic lore so you don’t need to watch the show to understand this post.

Cutie Mark - that weird symbol on a pony’s ass. They signify that pony’s ‘special talent’ or a symbol that represents their identity. These special talents are usually an activity that comes natural to its owners. Some can get rather abstract in meaning and design while others might be obvious. For example, a pony good at drawing might have a pencil and paper as a cutie mark. This gets very existential the more you think about it

Equestria - the central setting of MLPFIM ruled by two princesses. It’s home to ponies, dragons, and a multitude of fantasy creatures.

Pony - Ponies exist as three main types; Earth Ponies (normal horse), Pegasus (horse with wings), and Unicorns (wizard horse).

Pegasus (lore) - Pegasi can fly and move/stand on clouds. They usually work in controlling the weather. The weather is weirdly manual in the MLPFIM universe I’m not getting into it

Unicorns - Horses with a horn that allow them to use magic! Mostly telekinesis unless the pony is has raw magical talent (ie. Twilight Sparkle).

Earth Ponies - Normal horses but agricultural makes bank so they aren’t complaining.

Alicorns - All three horse types in one er a Pegasus with a horn.

(Made in 2012)

I originally made a cringey Smosh pony ‘series’ in middle school. All your favorite characters are here! Looking back, this entire concept was just really self indulgent. I shipped myself with Anthony (gurl wtf you’re 12??? Of course she’s an alicorn too lol) and some of these characters. As embarrassing as this is, I remember getting my friends involved, and we all would bounce ideas off each other about plot and lore. Just a bunch of preteen artists meshing what they love in one big project.

That being said if my preteen horse sona did meet Ian and Anthony it would probably be like this:

Cynicism aside I decided to draw the old designs of Ian and Anthony for old times sake.

I have no clue why they’re wearing hoodies like an eddsworld character or why Anthony has the Smosh symbol as a cutie mark but Ian doesn’t.

Fast forward to fuckin last year I got the idea for the April Fools Smosh horse thing and my brain just ran with it. This entire 'au' is one big satire of my middle school concept.

Terms like ‘cutie mark’ and ‘Equestria’ are replaced with ‘soul brand’ and ‘Equin’ since it doesn’t actually take place in the MLP universe.

Minor spoilers: Sketch ver. Ian and Anthony fuckin die and are reincarnated as horses forgetting their past lives. They grew up and live as social outcasts unable to use magic/fly properly because they literally don’t belong there and the universe is actively rejecting them. They fight forces that look like biblically accurate angels because they’re celestial bodies trying to remove them from the universe (Ian and Anthony are only fighting them because they think the big wheels with eyes are keeping them there but it’s actually something else).

With that being said, art time!

That got me thinking about what Ian and Anthony would look like if they were in the mlp universe. Of course my brain took this concept and ran with it. I’d like to share what I came up with!

Stellar Prism (Anthony) and Golden Horizon (Ian)

• They got their cutie marks together at the same time as kids.

• Gold’s talent is radiating sun energy that makes everyone in a 10ft radius happy. He literally glows when he’s happy.

• Prism can focus on someone’s talent and magnify the magic energy from them. I used Anthony’s quote of being a magnifying glass as a jumping off point.

• They preform comedy shows together akin to a manzai routine where Prism is the straight man and Gold is the funny man. They’d travel Equestria preforming together.

• Just like real life, Prism split from Gold because he felt like he didn’t know who he was without Gold. His talent is showing other people’s potential but he wanted to discover his own. While split, Prism studied more “unpopular” forms of magic to rediscover himself. He basically went through the abyss but came out on the other side self content. His ‘tattoos’ are side effects from these magic experiments.

• During the split, Gold met other aspiring comedians (other Smosh members) and they all formed into a comedy troupe.

• When Gold reunited with Prism, he was so happy that he accidentally flashbanged Prism.

• Prism calls Gold “Duck” because he looks like a rubber duck.

• Gold is a pretty fast flyer. He can out-fly most members of the troupe.

That's all from me! Thank you guys again for 100 followers! I've never really used Tumblr and I'm very late to the game. I'm still thankful for all the support I received! <3

Don't come cryin to me if this post got you to draw horses lol

#smosh #ian hecox #anthony padilla #ianthony #mlp #mlp fim #mlp art #my art #smosh art #mlp au lore #mlp au #ramblings #character design #my little pony friendship is magic #my little pony #☀️🔍 #☀️ 🔍

[heraldofcrow]

Ok, I need to say something and get it off my chest while I actually have some energy.

I know what I want to change for the new year…even though normally I don’t really care for the idea of resolutions because to me there is no guarantee that the turn of a year implies change. I just think everyone should grow at their own pace and transform when they are ready. But my current catharsis just happens to be taking place now, so I’ll make it a resolution. A resolution about creativity.

My energy as a fandom creative has been incredibly low this year, which is weird for me. I have been in quite a few fandoms over the years, but the ones I actively decided to participate in were always fun outlets for me to improve things like my writing and actually make room for my energy. I used to write absurdly long analyses and metas in other fandoms for my own enjoyment and get into in-depth discussions with people about lore, story, themes, or whatever else would come up because that’s where I thrived. I was always the essay spammer lol. I miss the energy that was fueling me then. Something happened to it, and I wonder if it’s because I changed from “writing for myself” to “writing for the fandom” at some point.

Don’t get me wrong, I always loved supportive communities that help you grow and develop in some arena of art. I need that as a person because as isolate and introverted as I can be about my interests, I do have this side that craves the thrill of sharing passion and excitement with others. I love when I create something and other people like it too…I mean, who doesn’t?

That’s a huge part of fandom and of course I am here for that support system, but I don’t want to make my goal to be about supplying content for a fandom.

Just about a year and a half ago I started messing around with drawing for the first time in my life. I had attempted to doodle and scribble as a kid, but it was stick figure stuff. I never was serious. But the urge to depict specific pictures in my head was overpowering. I had to buckle down and watch some tutorials to get anywhere, but I did get…somewhere.

I don’t draw even slightly near the level I want to yet, but I’m glad I practice and learn new little tricks every so often. I just need to break down walls, especially the walls I have been hitting recently. These walls stop me from getting better. They kill my interest in writing. I have trouble responding to people and their conversations with me in fandom…when people express interest in my opinions, I shut down and hide. I don’t put the effort I used to into analysis or research. I am stuck and it is smothering my creativity.

My drawing and writing won’t improve until I stop being scared about challenging myself or being willing to branch out.

That’s my resolution. I need to stop doing stuff for a fandom. I need to smack myself upside the head and genuinely draw whatever the fuck I want and not to create content like a YouTuber. The reason I used to write metas or get into long lore convos with people so confidently is because I was passionate about it and not because I was trying to put something on a platform.

It’s not necessarily that I have been doing this YouTuber thing all year, but I know for certain that the stupid fandom idea of “having a role” or “being The Guy for a certain character” has craftily snuck itself into my head. I adore Bloodborne, I love my Bloody Crow, but I also fucking love Dark Souls, I love Demon’s Souls, I love Elden Ring, I love LOTR, I love Arcane, I love FF7, I love dozens of other films, books, shows, stories…

…I love so much and I want to draw stuff for all of it, I want to write for all of it, I want to express my thoughts on it. I am a subtle participant in plenty of fandoms if they aren’t too toxic, but I have restricted myself to Bloodborne because I felt “safe” about “creating content” here. I also felt a necessity at times.

But truthfully? I am going to suffocate if I force myself to restrict my creativity to one fandom forever. No, I don’t intend to leave it, because I do love it here and I want to still enjoy the community. I also still want this blog to be Soulsborne oriented while my sideblogs are for other fandoms, but that’s just for the sake of my own interest in organization, not because I have to. That’s because I fucking love Soulsborne and its fandom and I want to stay here to share and create. Not because I have to.

I have been hanging around the Soulsborne community for over ten years now…it’s just an infinite vat of creativity and inspiration. I want to contribute because it’s fun. I need to stop limiting myself to the ONE game though. It’s killing the ability to improve my drawing because I don’t truly always want to draw everything from this game. Sometimes I just want to draw knights from Dark Souls.

Sometimes I want to practice drawing armor and not Bloodborne style get-ups. I just want room and space to explore. There is plenty of variety in Bloodborne yes, but it has to be variety I am passionate about or I will half-ass it. I need that option.

It’s the same with writing. My writer’s block has been horrible this year because once I actually started sharing my fan-fiction for the first time, I felt that pressure of having readers and I wanted to make sure everything I put out was perfect. This kills my motivation. It’s utterly deadly. I actually am fine with my writing normally and am very comfortable with improving it through practice, but whenever I succumbed to the likely nonexistent external pressure, I suddenly couldn’t finish editing to save my life.

I need to be free of this and be able to enjoy my fandoms. I need them. 2023 was one of the hardest years of my life. I was so miserable so often, and it’s during those times when I really want a safe space to run and create. It helps me “regenerate.” But if I’m polluting my own safe space with pressure and worry, then what do I have left?

And so yeah, that’s my goal for this next year and the years to come. I want my old energy and passion back, to use this little online outlet to grow and learn more about drawing, writing, and whatever else catches my fancy. I won’t pressure myself about this either, but I hope it comes naturally if I take it slow and try to unlock my brain from the narrow way of thinking.

No more playing into a role. I just need to be free and enjoy myself.

#SO YEAH NOW I AM A PENGUIN AND NOT A CROW #lmaooo #i’m kidding #that would be hilarious #just taking a different role after abandoning one (help) #no but see crows are just ME #that’s different xD #It’s funny because 90% of me has never cared about fandom expectations or roles #but with the bb fandom there was so much drama once upon a time that i got caught in the trap of taking up a role as a form of armor #now that it’s kind of in the past…i really need to move on #fandoms are supposed to be fun…not warzones and i need to stop restricting my creative endeavors to them so much #because even though bb is peaceful now…if it ever happens again i can’t fall into this routine a second time #there is a lot here #but i’m glad i’m thinking about it #personal #new year #fandom stuff #CrowNotes

[kitfyy]

Hello fellow British Boys enjoyers

time to introduce myself (before I forget it)

I got no idea how to start this so uh-

call me Mr. rat, kit or kitfyy ofc :) (or anything else really, some others called me mango too)

I am a transmasc and use he /him and they/them pronouns :) (please don’t call me she/her, I feel really uncomfortable getting called that.)

I’m a minor (not comfortable telling my age, sorry), amateur artist and a local lotf enjoyer. even tho I just got into lotf a few weeks or days ago I am already obsessed /pos!!

I use tone tags because it is easier for me to understand stuff like that (I’m a bit stupid) so feel free to do the same for me!

also I sometimes act a bit weird, like I forget stuff very easily and can only really focus on stuff I like, I sometimes just run around and get really upset when my plans get ruined or some stuff that sound weird or feels weird, it just hurts my body smh🧍‍♂️

wanted to say that because I might just start ranting abt stuff I like or stuff that just happened to me lol

message me whenever you want, I just may won’t see it because sometimes I forget to check my notifications or I am at school/work so I don’t always see messages.

I can be clingy and I apologize for that. I just feel so happy whenever someone is okay with me so that’s something (understandable if you guys don’t want to interact with me)

OH OH also I use emojicons (I think they are called that) like :3 :] :D etc because I love them.

I’m a satanist but I don’t mind anyone’s religion as long as you don’t force it onto me <3

ALSO I AM IN MULTIPLE FANDOMS and I like a lot of stuff

some stuff I like

lotf obviously /lh

rats!!

helluva boss!! (hazbin hotel too but helluva boss is my top)

ghost!! (the band)

sharks & ducks (they r so cute)

genshin impact (not so active there no more)

pokémon

planes, trains and especially buses (for some reason)

I also like collecting rocks. sometimes I just go to a specific rock beach and collect the rocks 🪨

anyways I don’t know what to say anymore :] so yeah, feel free to message me if you want to. I don’t mind ranting to me or venting or just yapping

stay safe everyone, I love you all <3

(also might add more stuff later on)

#introduction #kitfyy #kitfyy ramble