#these notes are a completely different post but sometimes ive gotta write down where i was at whn i had thoughts

[variousqueerthings]

caroline cossey, sandra caldwell, elizabeth coffey, you truly have been doing the most. 

#queer stuff #trans stuff #trans history #movie history #am thinking about what it takes to be considered a *correct* woman and how these three artists have three different stories #cossey was outed after her small role in a bond film -- coffey has been out as far as i can tell her whole life -- #caldwell i think came out in 2015 after a long career #watching videos about rita moreno -- and one thing that struck me was her linking her experiences with racism to homophobia #as well as racism faced by others which led her to civil rights #there's a part of this that also talks about stereotyping of roles -- ex. reading *hooker* roles with more *accent* #and am of course reminded of how pretty much every trans woman has played a sex worker (often one who dies) #racism and transphobia goes hand in hand #these notes are a completely different post but sometimes ive gotta write down where i was at whn i had thoughts

[reveriequill-rai]

Shroud: Withered Soul

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while. As of right now I’ve just been uploading stories I’ve written in my newspaper club, and now that I’ve graduated I hope that can now expand to short stories generally. I’m not gonna promise that posts from now on will be more consistent, but I would like to at least speed up my uploads a bit before they actually wind down, as I imagine I will be working on more stories in the future. Everything being uploaded right now is previous work, but nothing too old--probably like, from last year tops. This was completed sometime in May, I believe. 

This is an introduction to a character I created called ‘Shroud,’ an amateur self-proclaimed ‘detective’ who exclusively investigates occult-based crimes and malefic.

Content Warning: death, descriptions of corpses, graphic descriptions of violence and pain, cults 

[My blog will usually contain PG-13 stories, and as of right now I am writing some darker content, but I will tag anything that may be especially disturbing or uncomfortable. I’ll include this warning in my bio, too.]

----------

The corpse in front of me wasn’t all that disturbing by itself. I had seen dead people before–comes with the territory. I had been dead before. Murder rates in Twilight were, naturally, much higher than any other district in New Fable–especially further south of the district where I was–considering how much wild magic was around, and not even the police force sent here from the northern district of Bastion could do anything about it. So the corpse itself didn’t bother me, all things considered.

What did disturb me, though, was a number of other things.

For one, the corpse just being there was a problem. They weren’t stopping, and they were getting far too close to home.

Its eyes were still open, for another thing, and nearly colorless, and looking at me specifically, and I can swear to you that had not happened when I first laid eyes on it. Even worse, like me, the man lying dead in front of me appeared to be wearing a few bandages like I was, perhaps just recovering from an injury.

And for yet another thing, and perhaps the worst part of this, was the connection I felt with this dead man. Something about the state he was in struck a familiar chord that only I and a select unlucky others knew. As if we were kindred spirits–undergoing the same fate, yet with (probably) different outcomes.

I had been at this–whatever you would call tracking down cults as someone with zero prior detective experience with the help of almost no one–for…a few months now? And I’ve made a bit less progress than would be expected from someone who has seen just about everything the darker sides of magic had to offer. I did have one solid lead, though, and hopefully one that would lead me to exactly who I was looking for.

“Everyone move,” I ordered, pushing my way through the crowd.

Ignoring their complaints, I made my way over toward the body and began to examine it, hoping for any hint of who had done this, and more importantly, if it was exactly who I had suspected. There didn’t appear to be much damage, but what first caught my attention was the note tucked into the man’s pocket. I took it out and unfolded it, and immediately flinched.

Demon tongue.

Hellish whispers ran through my head, and I wasn’t sure if they were just in my head or not. It was hard to tell these days.

I honed in on the note, written on some old paper as if torn from an ancient book. The more I stared, the louder the whispers got. I ignored the throbbing in my head as best as I could–humans were not mentally equipped to engage with the infernal language at all, and I much less so. My hands shook as I read the brief message, which I must have read dozens and dozens of times already; I wasn’t counting and didn’t care to.

Some people studied demon tongue despite…well…everything, even the illegality. It probably didn’t matter to them. It didn’t matter to me, either, but someone had spoken to me in demon tongue before–though, in their defense, likely not out of their own volition–and the trembling and rapid heart rate was not worth the ability to communicate with infernals. (Nothing was, honestly.)

For these reasons–and also not wanting to be arrested or have my mage license revoked–I personally didn’t speak or write demon tongue, but I at least knew a little bit and could recognize some of the infernal runes. And those runes were enough for me to know that this was the exact same message that the abyss had been trying to send me in my last moments.

—

Can’t run home, I thought. They’ll follow me.

Just gotta run until I find a phone booth.

I ran until I finally spotted one on the street corner near a bridge. I let out a sigh of relief, taking a quick moment to catch my breath. Then, I quickly crossed the street and ran toward the phone booth, quickly dialing the police station.

“Hello?” I said into the phone as quietly as I could manage. “My name is [……………………………] I’m at the corner of Coral Avenue by the Armada IV Memorial Bridge. I’m being pursued by a group of kids in demon-charmed cloaks and shawls, please I need your help they have knives and they’re trying to kill me-“

The tears stinging at the edge of my eyes began to overflow as a human voice at the end of the line responded in perfect, uncharacteristically calm demon tongue. It was a short sentence, repeated over and over again, but with the little knowledge I *did* have, I could translate it by about the sixth loop:

“You are going to hell.”

I hung up the phone immediately, resisting the urge to yell, “I KNOW” directly into the phone.

Humans can’t speak demon tongue here. It’s illegal.

So how did an officer know demon tongue?

—

Unsurprisingly, the body was still in semi-good condition. After all, little damage was done to the body—only the soul. The only physical marks I could make out were marks around the wrist and neck, likely to restrain the victim. Couple of bruises here and there, too, but nothing was broken.

This…disturbed me, to say the least.

Cults around here were usually known to be violent. After all, a lot of them stood for violent causes–executing the ‘impure,’ plunging everyone into the dreams of a volatile eldritch creature, usurping the throne and forcing everyone to convert, rallying the youth to their bloody cause with claims that they alone possessed special powers…I had heard it all, all of them violent to some degree. But the ones that had gotten me…they seemed to worship oblivion itself. Or maybe whatever was in it. That was beyond even my knowledge.

But…even then, they still had arguably the least violent cause. The deadliest, yes–they seemed to just be destroying souls–but strangely not as bloody. Yet their means of carrying out this objective has historically been, well, bloody.

Or maybe that was just me.

Either way, this victim had certainly not gotten the worst of it. There were no twisted limbs, no bloodied nose, no wounds from blade or bullet, basically no magic-driven attacks aside from the terminating consumption of the soul…only marks of the initial restraint, bruises from the subduing, and the abyss claiming and destroying the soul.

I could almost picture it in my head: they likely jumped him in the middle of the street, kicking him around a bit to possibly weaken him, throw him off balance, but not too much as to rouse resistance, then restraining him–to the floor? A wall? I couldn’t tell, but there were no rope burns so they must have done this by hand–and calling, somehow, for their god, for lack of a better word, to devour its newest victim’s soul.

What did he see as he died? Did their eyes turn as colorless as his would become? Had they shown any sign of enjoying his torment? I doubt it; it didn’t seem like a very ‘fun’ kill. And likely not as personal as it was for me.

They were getting much better at their kills. It probably wasn’t as fun, but more precise.

And a lot less violent than I had gotten.

—

I caught a glimpse of the charm from earlier out of the corner of my eye, but just as I looked it vanished. Just then a cold breeze hit me as the door behind me opened, and I was yanked out onto the street, leaving the phone dangling by the cord. The book dropped from my hands.

The four delinquents appeared in front of me from nowhere, likely having turned off their Moonlight Shroud charms.

“Gotcha,” Ransley said, smiling as he picked up the book.

“Give it BACK!” I roared, lunging for him. Ransley hit me hard across the face with the book, sending me flying a few feet back onto the brick road. Quickly I realized that my safety was not worth keeping that book. I didn’t know where or how Ransley learned to hit that hard but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. As he and the others examined the book, I began to scurry away as Ransley gave an order to the others:

“Get him.”

An instant later, I heard something click far behind me, and a sharp pain ripped through my knee. I collapsed to the floor, letting out an agonized cry. I examined my knee, and saw a hole much bigger than a bullet hole should be. I looked up at my attackers.

A gun?!

“What the HELL?!” I shouted. “You’ve already got what you want! LEAVE ME ALO-“

Ardent appeared behind me and punched me square in the face. I held my probably-broken nose as a muffled shriek of pain escaped me. Each of them vanished and took turns raining blows and slashes on me as I tried to step back and run. They gave me almost no chance to react. My body ached everywhere; the knife wounds, though shallow, stung just as bad, if not worse, as any bee. I could barely stand. I used my remaining strength to try and push them off of me whenever I felt them, but I stumbled each time I did, giving them room to knock me around further. Finally I collapsed, and Ardent grabbed my shirt and dragged me to the bridge.

“W-wait-“ I cried, still wincing and crying from my bruises and decayed knee. “STOP IT!-”

—

I examined the bandages on my hand and knee. The ones from that night must’ve been amateurs, or at least new to the cult’s way of doing things.

Focus, Shroud.

The victim’s eyes were still open, and almost completely empty.

Almost.

The body must not be entirely empty, then. This wasn’t exactly a kill—whoever this person was, they would not be dead for much longer, or at least depending on your definition of ‘dead.’

How long ago had this attack been, then? I touched the skin—still warm-ish. This had to be recent.

By that logic, if this was meant not as a lethal attack, but as one of induction into their group…

I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but I at least knew it wasn’t for very long.

So…I didn’t have much longer, then.

I instinctively jerked away from the body. Would he come back? He wouldn’t be under anyone’s control, at least for the first few minutes–how long does it take to kill someone? Would it be long enough for him to kill me?–no, he probably wouldn’t go after me; I had barely any soul left for him to long for…unless he’s just that desperate enough to take scraps from a near-husk.

What would he do when he came back? Would he wander around, lost, confused, until they welcomed him with false promises of salvation and freedom from the ‘burden’ of having a judgement-tied soul? Would he be violent, as they had been to him?

Then again…I came back after one of their attacks, but with a will of my own. Did they want me to come back? Why would they want me of all people to come back?

—

“You know how much trouble you caused us, […….…]?!” Ransley shouted as he kicked me in my injured leg. “Don’t act like you didn’t have this coming, you little weasel.”

“I didn’t-“ I tried to say.

Ransley propped me up on the sidewalk, just by the edge of the bridge, right above the river. He placed his hand on my bruised shoulder, looking at me with a bone-chilling grin.

Again, I got a good look at his eyes. This time, everything except the pupils was entirely white. As I looked I almost felt like I was staring at something beyond; further, even. But the harder I looked the more I could see how much nothing there was. And yet, in spite of that, this nothing seemed to be staring back at me.

The others had the same white eyes too, looking on with a horrible satisfaction.

“What…” I barely managed to say, “…what are y-you…?”

“Free,” Ransley answered, without his usual cruelty and instead with an uncharacteristically sanctimonious tone. “And with our help, so too will you be free.”

With a hard shove, I was pushed off the bridge.

I grabbed onto the edge with my hand, barely having the strength to pull myself up.

“T-this is insane-!” I cried. “Ransley! Please! Y-you can keep the book; I won’t call the police, just help me up-“

Ransley frowned and put his boot on my hand. He leaned in as he brought his foot down harder, crushing my hand. Bone splintered and crumbled under the weight of the shoe, and I let out a shriek as a cold look crossed his face.

“You really should stop holding on so much,” he said. “That’s your problem. That’s why you’re here. Just let go, and face oblivion.”

Ransley took his foot off finally, but my hand had run out of strength. I slipped, and fell into the river.

—

Either way, I had to work fast.

“Hey, kid!” Someone from the crowd called. “What’re you doing? Leave this to the professionals.”

I turned around, and maybe it was the speed at which I had whirled around to face them, or he did just flinch.

Was it my eyes?

“The police won’t find them,” I explained. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve studied demonology for a few years.”

I went back to the body.

“You mean you know who did this?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I answered. “I just wanna be sure…”

I pressed down on the bruises on their shoulder and arms. Hollow. I felt no bone or extra layer of skin or muscle underneath.

Just as I suspected, I thought. Soul devouring.

My only question now was, how much of the soul was left?

—-

The bridge wasn’t particularly tall; just enough for any small cargo ships to run under. But the fall felt much longer than it had any right to.

I never hit the water. I was swallowed by something but it certainly wasn’t the river. It was as cold and sharp but nothing wet ever touched my skin or clothes.

I did not fall into water. I fell into something foreign, something dark, something alive, something evil.

Its eyes were beady and attentive, focused, eager, and it had long rows of sharp fangs. It appeared to smile at me, expecting me, welcoming me. Whispers in demon-tongue surrounded me, and I overwhelmed myself trying to find a single word I could understand. The only thing I could catch was “going to hell” again…was this it? Was this hell? What circle was this?

I was immobile, unable to look away from the creature in front of me, unable to scream as it opened its fang-filled mouth. I couldn’t even let out a scream of protest; no, not against this, as it brought down its jaws and took a large bite out of a deep part of me even I could never access. The pain from my bruises and wounds no longer burned; only ached, as if the pain had been there forever.

I was hollow. If there was anything left, I barely even felt it. My wounds glowed a hot white color and became shallow. I felt nothing but an aching nigh-emptiness that seemed to have no origin I could place; no past; only a present and a long future.

I didn’t know how long I was in that void. But as much as I despised that thing for robbing me of my life, I was grateful that it chose to let me go.

—-


I took out my pen from my pocket and a couple of mini-candles from my satchel. I flicked a lighter and lit the candles, surrounding them at different points around the body. I began to draw an evocation circle around the body. I’m not sure what had stopped this cult from performing forced evocations as opposed to beating everyone into submission until they blacked out enough to face the abyss and have their soul devoured, but I wasn’t about to find any sense in a group of people who literally worship the abyss.

I took my time with the intricate webs of the circle, carefully connecting whatever remained of the soul to the points where I would draw in the runes, and connected those to the candles.

I then drew in symbols in the language of the spirits at the different sub-points that would draw up souls from the afterlife, adding a desperate prayer in each pen stroke that I evoke the right thing and not something unwelcome. I had to steady my hand as I did this, reminding myself that this was merely a human soul who was recently killed, so the chances of him having ended up in hell – was he that kind of person? – were slim; they had to be, of course they were; there was no need to panic so stop panicking. Yet knowing I was drawing the same symbols, the same webs, lighting the same candles as the deadly evokers around town who would break into people’s houses and draw evocation circles under their beds to call up who-knows-what from the pits of hell to torment the living…to think I was drawing the same circle that I checked for every night when I went to sleep…

The pen snapped in my shaking hand against the concrete, getting ink all over my hand. I swore, and rubbed some on my finger tip so I could start to finish the circle.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?!” someone cried, making me jump. “You’re tampering with evidence! That’s illegal!”

“You’re gonna screw up the investigation!” someone else shouted.

I steadied myself from being startled.

“This…this is the investigation,” I replied bluntly.

“Wh–okay…? Are you a detective or something?” the first guy asked.

I shrugged.

“I think so,” I said.

“You think-”

I could hear further shouts from the crowd as I turned the body over to draw the rest of the circle underneath, but I held up my hand to stop them from getting closer.

“Just let me work!” I cried without looking back.

That’s when I noticed some of the rapidly-decaying skin near the shoulder and side of the ankles. The skin had withered and given way to bone, the effect cutting through flesh and muscle. Even the bone had begun to decay.

Well, so much for minimal damage.  

I unzipped the victim’s jacket and pulled back the shirt just slightly to get a better look at the damage. The withering had spread further—the entire shoulder seemed about ready to decay. I took a camera out of my bag and took a picture of the decaying wounds.

With the remaining ink, I drew another sigil on the bandage of my injured hand, a heart-shaped eye-like symbol with two lines running up my index and middle finger. It was a painful process and I was just careful enough to have the pen not tear through the bandage, and I placed my shaking hand on the decaying shoulder and closed my eyes. I saw all of the injuries on the man’s body, including where he had been injured–he had a broken arm that had almost finished recovering, and a fractured foot that was also healing, but wasn’t as near completion as his arms. Either way, both of these had stopped healing, and had actually gotten worse, with the bones beginning to decay in both areas.

What was the point of beating people up, breaking them, letting them decay, and then expecting them to join you after you had broken them? My attackers probably went through the same thing as this man had–as I had, if this cult was larger than them. So why do the same thing to others?

But that was just it, though, wasn’t it?

They knew what it was like to be soulless, and only they knew not only how to recover from the injuries suffered, but how to disguise themselves as living to avoid trouble with the law.

I looked again at the bandages on my hand, and unraveled it slightly, careful not to let the crowd see. There, too, did my flesh begin to decay. This was the primary issue with not having a soul: without the very essence that gives us life, our bodies aren’t capable of self-healing anymore. Any injuries are permanent unless fixed by a doctor, or if we tend our own wounds.

Fortunately my bones—at least in my hand—hadn’t completely withered away. I managed to revive just in time, fortunately.

Just in time.

——

I don’t remember much about the day I woke up. Just the excruciating, aching pain.

What I did know was I had washed up on the shore of the city, and I couldn’t stand up for a very long time. A burning sensation enveloped my entire hand and knee, and I felt a throbbing sensation in both areas. The bruises from the beatdown stuck on me like a leech, but most vividly, my chest felt hollow. And it hurt. The emptiness gnawed at the inside of my chest, and it, too, burned and ached. Like a stomach ache in the wrong place.

With my good hand I crawled my way off of the shore until I found a lamppost. I grabbed onto it, and propped up my good knee. I swung my arm toward the lamppost, grabbing onto it with my bad hand, shocks of pain running through my body. I tried to haul myself up, but the weight of my body caved my knee in, and I collapsed. That’s when I got a good look at my hand.

Bits of skin had completely come off, seeming to have withered away. Pieces of bone underneath had chipped off.

I grew nauseous and I felt the blood drain from my face. I let out some inhuman noise that I reckoned was some attempt at a scream but came out as a cross between that and a moan of agony.

How had this happened?

It was a horrible sound, but at least I had been found. Otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened?

Or who else would’ve found me?

——

Finishing the circle grew tricky as my hand trembled, though I was unsure if it was from the injury or from the reality of the process itself.

“Kid, we don’t even know who you are,” the guy from earlier said. “Are you even a licensed detective?”

I ignored him and wiped some of the ink from my pen on my hand, pressing my hands together to activate the circle. As the soul fire candles flared, what little color was left in their eyes drained slowly, and a small, glowing, deteriorated wisp of a soul rose out of the victim’s body.

This was all that was left…

Somehow this dead man was just the same as I, who could still breath, still walk, still talk, still live—but only just.

What had this man’s soul seen before it was decimated? If, in fact, the same people who killed me are responsible for this, did he, too, see the same grinning face in the abyss that I had? Was he as afraid as I was? Or did he accept this as death?

I took my mage’s license out of my pocket and showed it to the crowd.

“I’m a licensed magic user,” I said, “is that enough?”

“…that’s not a detective license,” the same guy said. “I’m calling the police.”

“Great!” I said. “Tell them the Brotherhood of Abyss Walkers did this.” At this point it was all but confirmed.

“The…what?”

“The cult that keeps tormenting this forsaken town,” I explained. “The one behind all the unexplained murders.”

The guy—along with the rest of the crowd—stifled a laugh. Some of them couldn’t hold it in.

“There’s no cult in New Lumanore,” someone else said. “Our security’s airtight; no way they would’ve been able to form a guild without a license.”

“Just call the authorities, Aaron,” a lady in the crowd said. “This kid isn’t worth persuading.”

“W-wait-“ I said before letting out a resigned sigh. I packed up the candles and pocketed my pen, and took off. I knew who the culprit was. What the police had to say didn’t bother me.

They’ll believe me when I put the culprit behind bars.

—————

In previous investigations I managed to pin down the general area where the Abyss Walkers operate. Prior murders took place at least within a mile’s range of Eclipse Avenue, an area further south of New Lumanore. It was a relatively quiet and empty area; there were quite a bit of shops and buildings of unknown function that no one ever seemed to go into, not even during the day.

The entire place screamed occult activity.

Sure enough, just as I hit the corner of the avenue I caught a glimpse of a Moonlight Shroud charm, pinned to the outwear of a hooded figure. They were walking along the other side of the street, hanging close to the bare wall of a wide building.

Once they were some distance along I crossed the street quickly and began tailing them.

Confrontation wasn’t new to me, just…unfavorable. Is that why I trembled? Either way I knew the procedure: Walk with the same beat. Same path, same pattern of step. Stop when he stops. Walk like this until the shadow is close enough for contact.

Once I did I took out a capsule from my coat. It contained shadow ink, allowing me to either create my own shadow, or to hide within someone else’s. I didn’t have enough of a soul to perform any magical feats on my own–whatever I could do would probably just come out as sparks–so this was the best I could work with. Unfortunately the capsule was nearly empty, and I made a mental note to contact my supplier after I was finished. In the meantime, I used what was left to lather my hand in ink as I silently crept behind the lone cultist, and pressed my hand against his shadow. I latched on and eventually got pulled in. Inside the shadow realm, I had a black-and-white view of the street from inside the wall. I couldn’t breathe, though, and I couldn’t hold my breath for very long so I knew I had to jump him sooner rather than later.

I took a coin out of my pocket and tossed it outside behind the cultist. He stopped and turned around, as expected, and I took the moment to lunge out and grab him by the throat.

—————

The cultist narrowed his eyes, and an amused smirk came on his face.

“Hey…” he said. “I know you.”

I flinched. How?

He kicked me off and stood up.

“You…you’re the kid we got that book from!” He chuckled. “You don’t quit, do you? This is really what you chose to do after death? Vigilante work?”

I felt the blood drained from my face.

“…what are you talking about?” I lied. “What book?”

“The demonology book, stupid,” he said. “The thing damning you to begin with. You forgot already? Or did you lose your memories alongside almost all your soul somehow?”

I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to charge at him again. I couldn’t take him in a head-on fight. I was too weak for that.

“Tell me,” he said. “How’s it feel? Being so close to freedom, so close to ridding yourself of that moral creed weighing you down…no fear of rapture…just your life and your…well, I suppose now broken…body, and your heart and mind.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

“Good thing you came back, though. We’ve been slacking on our initiations recently…Ardent went a little too hard on too many people. We’re behind on our quota.”

“Wait a sec…” I took a step back. “What do you mean ‘too hard?’ Aren’t they supposed to come back?”

“The idiot decided to use magic to slow the initiates down,” the cultist explained. “As if that wouldn’t damage the soul at all. I’m sure you of all people know. You’ve taken enough beatings form him, right, D–“

I punched him in the face. The second I made contact I realized I had used my bad hand without thinking. Bone snapped, collapsed, and even shifted through the hole in my hand. I let out a far-too-loud shriek of agony as I recoiled and caressed my hand, trying to relocate the bone.

The cultist looked at me and laughed, and I raised a finger on my good hand and threatened him:

“Don’t try that again,” I said. “I’ve still got one—ahh…—perfectly functioning hand.”

“Fine by me,” he replied. “You hit hard for a dead person…”

My hand still ached from the punch. I imagine it probably hurt me way more than it hurt him.

“Do you mean to turn me in, Shroud?” the cultist hissed. “Just try it. I know who you are. They’ll find out you’re undead and investigate you to hell and back. Whatever decimal of a soul you have left won’t save you. Not even close.”

“I can’t trust you with that information even if I let you go,” I said. “But even if you do…I’ll know sooner or later if you’ve said something. You best not try it if you don’t wanna die twice.”

The cultist grinned.

“I’m shaking,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll just come back again.”

“What, are there no revival limits in your little group?”

“Nope. He’ll bring us back again and again as long as he needs us.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Oh, you’ve only been resurrected once, you big baby,” the cultist said. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not joining you.”

“You have no reason not to,” the cultist said. “We can fix your broken body; make you look and seem as alive as the next person. Those remnants of a soul may not matter to the police, who’ll mark you as soulless anyway, but you know who it does matter to?” He pointed at the sky and at the group. “Them. Someone like you, who’s spent hours learning about heaven’s enemies…you think you have any chance of reaching heaven? HA!”

I fell silent. Just when I thought being registered as ‘dead’ to everyone you know meant they wouldn’t bother you about being a (rookie) demonologist anymore. That reminder worked my last nerve, yet every time it was brought up I could never muster up a proper defense.

“…I’m aware,” I mumbled.

“Besides, I’m sure you’re just livid at the police, who never caught who got you. I’m sure you’d like your vengeance against them for failing you…we can help you out with that, if you’d like. After all, why should we fear death, or judgement, from this life or the next? Like I’ve said, we’ve got no soul to weigh us down to heaven or hell. No death, no judgment. Just you, whatever you wanna do, and a welcoming oblivion who’ll spit you back out as many times as needed. As long as you keep it fed, that is.”

“It doesn’t matter if the police know or if they don’t know,” I said. “I know. And I’ll know more than they ever will. Besides, why the hell would I trust you to give me closure about my death–the death YOU caused?!”

The cultist frowned.

“And that’s just the trouble, isn’t it…you’re just about soulless, and the only soulless person New Lumanore who isn’t with us and…for what? You lose nothing by joining us!”

“First of all,” I shouted. “I am not soulless. Your stupid demon didn’t take all of it.”

“Yeah. Still not sure why that happened,” the cultist replied, “but who am I to question the great abyss–”

“Oh, shut up. And second of all–just in case you forgot–YOU KILLED ME! I don’t owe you loyalty, or gratitude, or mercy…I owe you nothing.”

“You may be upset now,” the cultist said, “but you’ll learn to thank us later.”

“I will not.”

His frown turned into a scowl. He took out a small cylinder from his pocket.

“I was gonna use this the day of the attack,” he said, “but I didn’t see any point. Seemed like the others were doing just fine without the staff.”

Sure enough, the cylinder popped open into a metal bo-staff. He walked towards me, twirling it through his fingers.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong thing, Shroud,” he said. “You think you need vengeance, but what you really need is security. We all know what being soulless is like. You’re weaker, you can’t heal your wounds, you can’t do magic, and it’s pretty obvious when you’ve just come back from the dead. I don’t care what three-percent of a soul you do have; it’s nowhere near enough for you to enjoy all the privileges of being fully human. Face it. You’re basically the same as us.”

As I stepped back, he stopped spinning the staff and instead gripped it with both hands.

“So you can either let go of those remnants you have the audacity to still call a soul, then come with us and let us give you the safety you so desperately need,” he said, rearing the staff back, “…or we’ll just break you further and let oblivion do what it wishes with your remains.”

He started to bring the staff down.

“WAIT!” I yelled, bringing my hands to my face.

Surprisingly enough, he actually froze, the staff a couple inches from my face.

“Okay…I get it…” I said. “You’re right. I won’t turn you in. Just…promise me you won’t tell anyone who I am.”

“What’s stopping me?” the cultist asked, cocking his head slightly and raising an eyebrow.

“Look. I didn’t turn you in,” I said. “You owe me.”

“No I don’t. I’m not tied to anything but oblivion.”

I let out an annoyed huff.

“Like I said. I’ll know if you exposed me,” I reminded him. “I don’t care if that scares you or not, just…let me go.”

“Let YOU go?! You jumped ME!”

“And I had—I…thought…I had the right to. Look…I’m backing down. You go about your night. I go about mine. We don’t speak of this.”

The cultist hesitated, then put the staff away.

“Fine,” he said. “But we’ll still come back for you. Whether or not your initiation goes smoothly is entirely on you.”

With that, he pulled out the same charm he had on the day of the attack, and vanished.

“See you around,” he said.

That was the last I heard of him that night.

Once I thought I was safe, I let out a loud groan of annoyance.

I had him. He was literally a few feet away. If I *just* had more shadow ink that would’ve been it for him.

But…he was right. I was at every possible disadvantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I shouldn’t have jumped him. I should’ve just taken note of his appearance and went from there. That was foolish on my part.

But…I did have his appearance now.

But he had my identity.

I still wasn’t at a complete advantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I had to lay low, and rebuild. My hand was wounded and I was lucky I didn’t get my skull bashed in. There was no way I could have recovered from that. But I wouldn’t give up. I had a lead and I wasn’t letting go of it.

I didn’t care about their ‘freedom’ or ‘not being tied down’ or anything like that. Fact of the matter is, they were hurting people, and their demon lord had more control over them than they’d realize.

They were beyond redemption. The demon didn’t bind them through any soul manipulation or contract–it was some weird combination of free will, gratitude, and the threat of permanent death.

These cultists had to go, and quickly. They had to pay, and dearly.

I know I’m weak, but once I’m back up and running I would do as much damage from the shadows as humanly possible.

They weren’t bound by any rules, so why should I have to be?

I didn’t care how many times I would get hurt. They ruined my life, and I was going to pay them back tenfold.

#original story #fiction story #creative writing #dark fantasy #urban fantasy #violence cw #death cw #cult cw #death tw #violence tw #cult tw

[princeanxious]

Longish artist/writer rant/vent aimed at my ADHD under the cut bc I needed to get this off my chest-

Rip to every idea I have that my brain demands I make a reality when in the past year I've maybe managed to doodle something at least once a week and maybe managed write something to posting levels of completion once every full moon

Like. If I had it my way I would have whole chapter updates for at least three different major fics each week, and it would rotate between nine major fics each week at least, and be posting one-shots for random one off ideas whenever they came to me.

I spend so much time thinking up of tons of au ideas because i genuinely enjoy them and doing it, and it hurts so much that I am unable to keep up with my creativity no matter how much I want to. Im well aware of burn out, and thr fact that that kind of schedule is pretty unattainable and would result in burn out, but like.

If I could just pick up a fic/chapter that Ive planned out(because ive got a list, and tons of different notes for ideas I want to create but just can't manage to slow down enough to keep focusing on it) and once a week write even just a paragraph, heck, a sentence, or finish a small silly art piece or a doodle, I'd be doing better than I am right now.

This frustration isnt even born from the aspect of 'gotta keep creating content for approval' thing that it usually is, either.

Its a genuine frustration born from the inability to just get my stupidly scattered brain back together. Creating these things, writing them out, drawing them out, I have so many ideas that I want to explore even just for myself to enjoy!

Im pretty sure my brain wouldn't give me countless au prompts, fic ideas, drawing plans, and animatic ideas rent-free every week if I didnt genuinely enjoy exploring it.

I know that I'm not gonna get to explore every idea, but the fact that I have a good number started already that still cling happily to my brain even if its been literal months or even a year since I've posted about them, the fact that they and so many others are so present in my brain and let me get as far and writing the ideas down or getting to the sketch phase, and then whatever it is in my brain that kept nagging me to writing out for the happy chemicals and excitement of sharing it as well as just having physical existance and evidence of an idea that I worked hard on, something that I'm proud of and just.

Like a whisp ungraspable of smoke, that energy or motivation is gone?

And even tho its gone my brain is still screaming at me to continue it, we still want to work on it, we still have so much left undone, we cant stop now! But we cant.

Its like opening a door long enough to feel the breeze or wave at a dog passing by, but trying to open the door all the way to follow and explore only triggers the door to shut tight.

Its like trying to figure out how to get to the other side of a very tall wall. We know that we cant reach the other side of the wall, we have in the past, but sometimes it only makes it grow higher. We know how to do it, to get through the wall, but we know that it takes time and effort and a very specific amount of work to break down the wall, and we know that trying to do tedious tasks that are boring to our brain like that simply creates another wall. Sometimes we're lucky, and we can climb the wall with a burst of energy and ride that energy for all its worth to get to the other side, but then it leaves us exhausted, and climbing the wall will not be an option again for a time.

Its a frustration born from the fact that I know whats wrong with my brain, I do, Ive spent so much of my life with adhd, depression, and anxiety, I've had to learn whats wrong because thats the only way to know how to tackle the issues that they bring.

Its the frustration that despite knowing whats wrong, I still cant make myself face the wall like I know I should. Knowing about it doesnt stop the issue, using effort to adress it does.

And that's where I am. Stuck inside our head, with a creativity in constant flux, and more often than not inability to pick up a pencil to draw, or pull up a keyboard and write. Staring at the wall in our head with the familiarity of being lifelong acquaintances.

#luka rants #prince system #adhd things

[thesunnyshow]

Name: reya

Writing Blog URL(s): @chu-ni

Age: 19

Nationality: african-british

Languages: english, swahili, korean

Star Sign: libra

MBTI: enfp/entp (it always changes lol)

Favorite color: purple!

Favorite food: i really love chicken burgers

Favorite movie: princess and the frog

Favorite ice cream flavor: vanilla!!

Favorite animal: elephants

Go-to karaoke song: fancy - twice

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? caramel frappe with whipped cream, in general i prefer tea though

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)? secretary general at the UN….or an author

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? making anyone agree with me and do what i want them to do

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? ancient egypt!!

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?.....no.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? neither if i could lmfao but i’d go for 100 chicken sized horses

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? the nerd who’s actually really pretty after she gets a cool makeover 

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? im not sure about aliens, but i definitely believe in ghosts and spirits.

What are some small things that make your day better? when i can have moments to myself to enjoy my own company. or when someone asks me what i want to eat and they bring it for me 🥺

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? uhm…...probably the fact that i write fanfiction lol..but outside of that! i sing in the shower. and i talk to myself a lot.

What fandom(s) do you write for? nct dream currently, but in the future i want to expand to other groups!

When did you post your first piece? 17th of June 2018.

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? i can never write just one genre. predominantly i write fluff with a dash of angst for spice simply because i love a story that has an issue and then having that issue be resolved for a happy ending. when i started my blog i was 17, and so i said i wouldn't write smut. now that i'm older im feeling more and more comfortable writing suggestive content at the very LEAST.. so maybe in the future i might write smut, who knows? i like writing fluff because i like making people feel good, but i like adding angst to it because i feel like the contrast between the two is very *chefs kiss* to me.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? i only write x readers!

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? i first got tumblr when i was 13 years old and i was a fresh kpop fan lmfao. i wanted somewhere that shared my interests. of course i discovered x reader fics on here and i was in awe, i guess of how much power writers had in contributing to fandom content and keeping readers satiated. i’d always loved to write and so i’d always wanted to start my own writing blog, and for 2 years i did write for other blogs! it wasnt until 2018 that i finally took the leap and decided to start my own, because i wanted to impact people's emotions and take them on a journey through my writing.

What inspires you to write? what inspires me….teen movies, music!! music is a big one for me, and also the books that i read. i also grew up playing otome games so the plots and writing from those influence my writing a lot.

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? i really enjoy writing royalty!aus as well as exes!aus. i love to do them cause they require me to build a world and with royalty aus specifically i love weaving together bits of political intrigue, or arranged marriages, etc. its so much fun!!

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? that if this world is too rough or too much, you can always escape from it. it might not be physical, but immersing yourself in a universe that's entirely different for a little while can help soothe you.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? usually i try and take breaks. the problem with that is that my breaks can go on for longer than i’d like and im trying to fix that. so my other solution is to read read read!! read as much as i can, or go back to books that i loved. ask myself what i liked about the writing, what are some parts that i thought were amazing examples of good writing - i note them down then see if i can apply that to my own work. another thing i do is take a break from writing my longer, fleshed out works and write blurbs! blurbs are a great way for me to write but not feel like its tedious because i don't have to spend as much time on them and it gets me into the groove of writing without feeling stressed out.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? my favourite piece of work is miscommunication. it took me months to write that, even after i lost all the work halfway through, and its the longest piece of work i have written so far, so its kinda like my baby. my most successful is candy jar. its also the work i owe my blog exposure to - it was the first piece i published, and it was also the first piece of writing i did in around 4 years.

Who is your favorite person to write about? i don't have much out for them, but i really enjoy exploring mark’s and jeno’s characters. they're people, but in my work i enjoy analysing them and judging how they’d act in different contexts.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? the only difference for me is that fanfiction (depending on the fandom) has some of the stuff fleshed out for you already, such as the world its in. if youre the type to write AUs then the only thing you already have is the characters - the planning, the writing, the drafting, and everything else is still the writer's responsibility. therefore there isn't much of a difference between the two for me.

What do you think makes a good story?  a good story, to me, is one that takes me on a journey. it could be any genre, but i like to feel immersed and connected to the characters and the world in it. also aside from the obvious, like good grammar, a good story feels natural to read. i don't feel like skim reading half of it.

What is your writing process like? my writing process consists of me getting inspiration - usually from a song, or a film or a book ive read or a game ive played - i note down my idea and who i want the story to be about, and then bullet point the whole story, with some snippets of particular dialogue i want the reader or the other person to say at certain scenes. i then open another document ( i have a writing app on my phone, called werdsmith, so i use that!) and set a word count goal i want to hit so i can track my progress and start writing the fic, with fleshed out language and exposition. when im done (usually after a couple weeks up to a few months, depends on the length of the plan) i read through it to fix any mistakes, then i transfer it to docs so i can read it again and italicise any areas i feel need it.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? i...don't think so. mainly because the original fiction i read and would like to write for myself is predominantly fantasy, whereas the fanfic i write on my blog is usually non-idol, normal fics. 

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? im a SUCKER for enemies to lovers, royalty ofc, “and they were roommates”, and i think superhero aus are really cool but there isnt enough of them :( idol/you as member aus....not feeling her… also abo/werewolf/vampire aus….not feelin em

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? a LOT. a HUGE amount!! i said before how i like giving my readers somewhere where they can immerse themselves as an escape, even for a short while. hearing about how my work affected them, made them feel, makes me feel less insecure about what im writing and thus more confident to publish it.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? i’d say reblogs. and also putting out more content. when i first uploaded candy jar i went to my one of my favourite writers (jaeminlore) and asked her if she'd be okay with reading it and giving feedback. to my surprise she loved it and her reblogging it to all her followers is literally what gave me a bunch of followers all of a sudden who loved what i’d written. to keep that momentum i created more and more content, and while i haven't uploaded as often as i've wanted to or written as much as i’d wanted to, i can say i have a good amount of work on my masterlist for people who are looking for more to read.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? 100%. fanfic has an unfair reputation for just having bad writing and cringey fics (and i feel like this is because of the way society views the demographics who predominantly consume and create it), when in reality i feel like those who write fanfiction are extremely talented and selfless people. they're on the internet creating content for free for people to enjoy and like any other work of art they're putting time and effort into it. i think it should be respected. any form of art is going to have its good and bad sides.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? hmmm….yes. i feel it can be a way to reflect the thoughts of people and also be a way to inspire people to do more.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? sometimes. sometimes i feel like i'm forcing myself to write because i feel like if i don't then people will forget about me or they’ll forget about my blog. while what i choose to write about is for me, i feel like the speed of my writing and what im writing isn't to the quality i want it to be cause i feel like i gotta get it out for people to read.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? i've never felt that way!

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? only 2 of my friends know, and i only told them like. a week ago!

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? i wish you guys would message me more! i'm quite a sociable person, and i’d love to have regular anons who talk to me 👉🏽👈🏽

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? i think one common thing amongst all writers is that we write what we want to read. so don't feel like nobody's gonna read your work, cause somebody will. you gotta act like your work is top tier even if someone says it isn't - always write the best you can, and just do it! like don't even give yourself time to overthink it, write that fic, make it look pretty, upload it onto tumblr and do not be afraid to ask your favourite fic writers to read your work once its up!! i’d be happy to read and give feedback for any fic writers as well so don't feel afraid! 

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? ive been on here for 7 years….i grew up on this site lmfao. but i don't think i regret joining tumblr once.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? shes not very active anymore and i miss her very much but user hyuck-s was so supportive and i love her!!

Pick a quote to end your interview with:

she believed she could, so she did.

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL 

#@chu-ni #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 32 #nct dream

[farewell-happy-fields]

Disillusionment

An election day reflection on Labour, history repeating itself and being disappointed but not surprised. 

‘If I lived then I would have stood up against the regime. I would have made a difference. I would have made a change.’

It’s hard, to come to terms with the fact that, in fact, I am doing none of the above. The most recent election has felt like such a big shadow hanging over many in our generation. Sometimes less like a shadow and more like a pigeon, flying over us, constantly threatening to shit all over us. And it feels like this time it has.

It seems that Labour have always had to fight harder than Conservatives to gain power anyway. Even in 1964 when Harold Wilson came to power, had 900 voters in 8 key constituencies voted Tory not Labour (or simply not voted) then Conservatives would have won. Despite the increasing unpopularity of the Tories in the lead up to the election- it followed a series of damaging scandals for the Tories (such as the Profumo Affair or the Vassal Affair), increasing economic problems, (such as unemployment reaching 800,000) and a rejection from the EEC (which ironically, was at the time seen as a testament to how weak Britain was as a country for the inability to join what would become the EU, how the turn tables table)- it was a closely fought election. Conservatives have also had longer runs in parliament-‘13 Wasted Years’ being the slogan for Wilson’s campaign in 1964, and then again a long lasting run from 1979-1997 under Thatcher and Major, adding up to 18 years before a Labour government would return to power under Blair and ‘New Labour’. Furthermore the times Labour have done well has been as a moderate Labour government that has expelled extreme left members in order to appeal to more of the electorate, including voters sympathetic to some Tory policies shifting the outcome to the left.

Admittedly, I write this following the Exit Poll, there are no ‘definite results’ yet, but deep down we know that’s a bit of an empty hope. And even as an eighteen year old with little political expertise, it still seems obvious to see ‘What Went Wrong’ for Labour.

Because it’s what went wrong in 1983. It’s what always goes wrong. And when it hasn’t gone wrong for Labour it has been when the exact opposite of what happened with Labour this time round has happened. It is time for Labour to understand that there is no place for a completely socialist Britain, and that the extreme left voters that they are pandering to have not got enough influence in our current political affairs. That we can still protect the NHS, still protect education, still decrease homelessness without taking on such an extreme stances that alienate many of the centre left and in many cases the centre right.

In 1983 Labour underwent a not dissimilar lurch to the extreme left under Michael Foot, who will no doubt be discussed a lot in the aftermath of this 2019 Election. The 1983 Election was the most decisive victory since 1945 when Attlee beat Churchill to become Prime Minister post-war. In this election both Foot and his policies lacked any appeal to anyone other than traditional and hardy left wing Labour voters. Moderates from the Party had split to form the Social Democratic Party two years prior to the election and the manifesto was described as the ‘Longest Suicide Note in History’ by Labour MP Sir Gerald Kaufman. Ultimately Labour had gone too far left to be able to present a viable and unified opposition to the Tories. Foot was forced to resign mere days following the defeat, and was succeeded, crucially, by Neil Kinnock, who went on to be Labour leader from 1983-1992.

(I’ve just got the update Blyth Valley has been won by Tories. The mining constituency. That has been Labour since 1950. Won by the Tories. It’s going to be a long night.)

Neil Kinnock was a key player for Labour’s revival by 1997. He expelled the extreme left members of the Labour party, and was focussed on moving Labour back closer to the centre, described by the BBC as being in ‘better shape than in 1983’ due to the fact he had ‘halted its leftward drift’. Kinnock recognised that it was not by being seen as The Socialist Party™ that Labour would regain electorate popularity. In fact, quite the reverse, and he laid the foundations on which Blair would build and which would see the worst defeat for the Conservatives since 1906.

Labour’s return from the extreme left saved their image and the party.

Which is why Richard Burgon, Shadow Secretary of State for Justice and Shadow Lord Chancellor’s most recent tweet has done nothing but worsen any hopes for the future. ‘Johnson must continue to be fought with radical alternatives’.

To think that Labour want to continue their ‘leftward drift’ is a chilling concept. Labour won in 1997 largely down to Blair’s reform of Clause IV (Clause IV of the Party’s 1918 constitution was the clause promising to nationalise British industry and seen as very left wing, the reform reassured the British public that this ‘New Labour’ were not a socialist Party, but rather a moderate centre-left party) and the contradiction to the Tory campaign that Blair and Labour were ‘socialists in disguise’.

There needs to be a return back from the extreme left course that Corbyn has set his party on.

And so in the face of one of the biggest political moments of my country in my life to date, I am sat in my bedroom, listening to the updates as they come in, writing a blog post. Disappointed but not surprised by how it’s unfurling. Coming to terms with the fact that, living through tumultuous times isn’t nearly as fun as it seems in the films.

Because it feels as though I am not the protagonist of this unfolding times. It feels, instead, that I am Extra No. 37. As though nothing I can do will make a difference. That there is nothing more I can do, having put that cross in that box this morning.

But we can do so much. Maybe we feel like Extra No. 37 because we’re in that stage of the film where nothing’s going right. It’s probably raining and there’s sad string music as we look out of the window thinking that we’re done. That we’ve run out of options.

As if we only had two options in the first place.

It’s like climbing Snowdon. So what we missed the train up. Now it’s harder, for sure. But there are still footpaths to get to the top. This way’s just harder.

But if we really want to get to the top, see our country through these times we gotta just put one foot in front of the other.

We can’t lose hope now. Not when there’s so much to lose. Not when we have so much to fight for. Now when people need hope.

OK, it sucks. It’s desperate. But we still have a voice, even if we feel like a dragonfly trying to make a point in a meeting of dragons.

We will be heard, one day.

#uk politics #politics #election #vote #brexit #save the nhs #labour #history #britain #disillusion #uk #jeremy corbyn #boris johnson #honestly so fed up #and i know there are too many analogies but its One AM and my brain is only working in analogies

[aliwept]

WARNING :     MASSIVE TOKOYAMI HC DUMP AHEAD !  part one of ..... many sldkfjds i gotta transfer a lot from old blogs

triggers:  body talk,  religions mentions,  mentions of binding, self hatred and transitioning.

BELIEFS / MOTIVATION:

tokoyami looks at becoming a hero the “wrong” way — or rather, in a way that cripples his success.he doesn’t want to become a hero in and of itself, but to help as many people as he can.

this is usually a good thing, but it is motivated by his extreme guilt and self doubt rather than pure desire, believing that that is the only way to pay for his “sins.” (i.e., the destruction or potential destruction his quirk as/could cause(d).)

he holds himself up to an extremely high standard, (it is impossible to have a totally “pure” motivation,) one of being perfect and disciplined in every way, but he consistently fails to reach that (as any human being would), making it so that he falls deeper into a circle of self-doubt and pity.

he also tends to idealize his friends for their faults, and when those difficult traits show up he gets extremely bothered, then angry at himself for his idealization, then angry for bothering them, & it escalates until he’s simply angry at himself for being what he believes to be a burden.

this is an extremely deeply rooted process, one that even daily actions contribute to, & while the source isn’t completely his parents, it is certainly reinforced by his mother’s abuse & his guilt relating to his father’s death.

PHYSICAL:

he’s not particularly muscled — well, compared to his more muscular classmates. most of his muscle is in his legs & stomach. he does not have a particular training regimen, typically unmotivated unless prompted.

unlike the majority of his classmates, because a lot of his fighting is done with dark shadow moving him (so that it’s harder to predict movements, as well as going from a large range), the majority of the time he’s not challenged physically.

against close attacks, both attacking which he uses his sword for (seen in his dorm room), when allowed. he inherited that sword from his father after his death. he also feels fatigue easily, not so much due to muscles but because of his exhaustion that is his “normal” state, given that dark shadow is nocturnal. (this & his low work ethic. he works a lot harder when training with friends.)

he doesn’t feel the need to bind more than not, given his skinny physique, with his hips being only a little bit wider than the average cis man’s.most of his scars are on his arms, self inflicted from his talons cutting into his skin. parts of his skin are covered in a gel like skin, clear to see the feathers that poke out from them, going much like arm hair down his sides. these are mostly around his shoulders.

most of the feather is underneath skin (though the skin & the feather both have no nerves), visible with the skin being mostly clear (no muscles adding color, only the natural dark pigment) with the rest of the feaher poking out at a low angle to his arm.

HABITS:

he has a diary that he writes in religiously. it’s kept in a hat box under his bed when he returns to the dorm, along with a collection he’s had since he had been able to write.

at times, in nostalgia, he’ll read through his earlier books. he also tends to doodle his classmates in them ! he’s an incredibly private person — especially because his mother ignored his privacy, refusing to let him keep secrets of any kind in ‘fear that he was hiding something’ — but also enjoys putting his thoughts into words.         

PAST:               

tokoyami was bullied due to his appearance / personality. for someone who was already uncomfortable with his body (not knowing what being trans was at that point) this became the root of deep insecurity regarding his appearance, whether it was as simple as hesitation.

he is autistic !! he stims a lot with his hands, though usually it’s in his hoodie / under his cloak, because he’s very self conscious about it.  he also has adhd: inattentive type, bpd, depression & anxiety!

fantasy verse:  he’s a witch & i will fight you on this fact. my boy loves the occult. he’s also. in generally he tends to be superstitious, & more than that enjoys different rituals! it probably won’t show up in my rp cause i honestly don’t know much about that type of thing but ! he absolutely adores things like that, not necessarily because he fully believes them but because they’re interesting & he believes that they probably stem if only in part from fact.

now im gonna add some notes here.  while he is obviously pretty strong,  he has problems with control, considering that not only does he have to react, he has to communicate those thoughts with dark shadow. speed / offense / defense obviously are enhanced w dark shadow, as well as his own abilities (he would still be able to hold his own if he couldn’t use his quirk).

as well, a lot of his stats are basically his stats + dark shadow, which obv makes them higher than they otherwise would be. he also has really high stamina and working out for a long time doesn’t really. make him tired, nor dark shadow, because dark shadow doesn’t get tired & he’s not the one doing a lot of the actual physical stuff. he’s not good w weapons tho in general. note that these are basically during the daytime w/o a huge light source so things change when it’s darker/lighter.

parents:   tokoyami’s mother had the ability to call spirits of the dead to her and talk to them, & his father’s was to house things, as in objects, so he cld like. store things inside of his body. it’s real wild.

a quirk that combined with another in tokoyami’s lineage, so one of his ancestors had the ability to shapeshift, specifically with birds & banged w someone who has a quirk similar to aizawa’s, where it basically ‘stills’ the action of .someone’s quirk, if that makes sense? so down the line people wld inherit a birds’ features, but it would switch. in his dad’s case, he got a raptors ‘arms’ & eyes.

i am here to inform you that not only is he really short, he’s also chubby! espcially as a child. while he now has muscle! :tm: ive made earlier posts about how he doesn’t have a good. regimen & shit so. yeah. just like deku, while he may be muscled, (though he’s less muscled than. most of his classmates) he still is v chubby on other parts of his body.

also ! he’s trans & he has. a large bust, which he does not bind most of the time due to fear of asphyxiation. being demiboy, he is bothered at it at times, but dislikes tight clothes as a whole (like binders). this is because he is easily overstimulated by excessive contact with his body, causing sensory overload.the exception is his neck, which his choker is a source of comfort. (though, warning, there are scars underneath that the large choker hides!)

tokoyami. will say/do something & then become embarrassed by it, after the act has already been done. he’ll fuckin melt on the spot.

tokoyami is absolutely someone to leave ppl on read. or respond w several paragraphs w ‘K.’ like. that’s just how it is. he’s lowkey an asshole in that way but he just. he has to think a lot before having a response but he gets distracted & just leaves it.

he has dark fucking brown skin !!!!! people who draw tokoyami w light skin cause he’s a ‘pale goth uwu !!!!’ are weak & will be weeded out by natural selection.

people he trains with most are ,,,  mostly kirishima, kaminari, aoyama and momo when they’re available

he’s mix of japanese, native american, and indian!

self knowledge questions:  neediness, independence, shyness.

NEEDINESS: being affirmed & nurtured by others is a central requirement for you to feel safe. this means you can be slow to warm up to other people, which is difficult because what you most need from them is their warmth. yet you know how to be vulnerable: to let down your defenses and accept that you need another person. this lack of pretense is a valuable trait, and ultimately more endearing than the macho efforts others make to deny their childlike sides.

INDEPENDENCE: you don’t set out to be different for its own sake; you are more easily guided by what interests & moves you. you are more concerned about what is right for you than about the pressure to fit in. you know the value of selective irresponsibility, of forgetting occasionally about being ‘good’.

SHYNESS: part of you is gripped by the fear that you’ll launch into something and completely mess it up. the upside of this is wise caution: people are indeed often too rash, whereas you know, by instinct, that holding back can save you. probably, you feel shame and self-disgust a bit too much. but when you do feel in your element, you act with a wisdom and sensitivity never found in people with thicker skins.

there’s an au where he’s tamaki’s half brother tamakis hmu

more ramblings cause i lov him so anw. i figure that like. if he had to have a motivator it would be an outside force but basically he’s riding on the fact that he has more physical ability because he doesn’t perform very well in studies. ( bird brain …… )

getting 14th place out of the class on midterms, he’s aware that he’s not motivated & as well as his migraines & other mental illnesses ( adhd, executive dysfunction, etc. ) this means that he doesn’t really reach his “full potential.”

he’s aware of this, though, which causes him to train physically. physically training also allows him to ( a ) feel proud of himself, something that he struggles with ( b ) help him generally, esp with dysphoria ( c ) get his mind off of other things / points of stress.

i still don’t think he’s like. as buff as shouji for example, though part of that is that he’s naturally lean ! & he has trouble motivating himself sometimes but when he stays up late ( due to dark shadow ) it basically wrecks his sleeping patterns, so this gives him something beneficial to do while also exhausting himself, which he hopes will help him fall asleep.

like i know that i said that . . he was skinny / not v muscled ( when compared to his buffer classmates, rather ) but i guess i’ve been proven wrong because it took both Buff McFuck mina and hagakure 2 push him out of the way ( not tht it took that long but that was w them straining / time skips )

so @ this point i Just Don’t Know. he got 9 in the practical which means he’s obv like ?? p good but that was the entrance exam. ( he got 10 rescue my baby !!!! im so proud of him ) & then w aizawa’s exams he started off at 5 & im tryna find the other thing what it ended up as but @ this point i’m just , pretty divided cause i’m not seeing much reason for him to learn to train w/o proper training ( & we kno that he’s not someone who was trained specially like todoroki / momo tho tht doesnt mean it’s not possible & at this point im just ) ya. he’s gotta be able but from what we know he’s not v motivated ? ausdjkfdsfjk we’ll see ig.

tokoyami is a mix of shinto (where his hero epithet comes from), taoist (due to the values), & hindu (again, values). i think for now it’s going to be some mix of that, though i’m going to do some research on shinto values since i don’t know much about it !!!!!

generally, he’s pretty superstitious, just because he knows many myths are based on facts, & the idea of ‘it doesn’t hurt to watch out for them.’ he prefers to avoid possible things that would make him have bad luck.

#dont rb or i manifest in your house n kill you /

[fictionalhell]

Q&A With Aifrit

Overview.

We were given an opportunity to sit down and get a better understanding of who Aifrit is and after having a little fun going over her work we got to asking her a few questions.

The following is a record of the interview held by Zieg, Hail, Astro, and Luie with author Aifrit.

Q: So, we just recently started covering your fanfiction titled “Farronheit” and we where interested in knowing when exactly did you start writing “Farroncest” and why?

A: 2012. I distinctly remember sitting inside a classroom building in my softmore year of college waiting for my next class and was like “fuck I wanna write some Farroncest... but should I even do that? that lowkey sounds kinda immoral ew” because I found the FFXIII Kink Meme and there were some quality kink prompts on there and a handful of Farroncest ones. I remember sometime before even this I read some Farroncest fic about Lightning ravaging Serah in a bathroom during dinner with Snow and I was like “YOOOO THIS IS WHY PEOPLE WRITE THIS SHIP??” I felt so conflicted because I initially was like “why the FUCK would anyone write this ship???”

So then that day in that classroom building I just decided to write it and do it. And thus Bonding was born. Bonding is my first Farroncest fic ever and also my first smut fic ever. Looking back at it now, it’s really awkward to read and I cringe when I see it but I guess we gotta start somewhere huh?

Q: Do you write professionally or just as a hobby?

A: I don’t know if I could ever write professionally. I write too slowly tbh. It takes me ages just to write a couple thousand words if I’m not super in the mood. I do web development professionally, as well as a hobby, but as far as other hobbies? I love art but I never pursued it as much as I did writing because I always saw how bad my art was but it was hard to see how bad my writing was. I do love doing pixel art from time to time. I wanna get better at art and pixel art and I keep telling myself to, but I need to buckle down and actually deal with it, ugh.

Q: I’ve seen your pairing choices for your fanfictions so far but I have to ask, what was your first ship?

A: Definitely Kagome/Sesshoumaru before I even knew what shipping was. Good ol’ FF.net days. Q: You’ve come a long way and in that time you’ve written a good number of pieces. Which one of your works are you most proud of?

A: Blue Dream, the Lanille fic. I really wanted to capture that whole weird, floaty feeling of being high, and that feeling that time passes in like... scenes?? Like you can’t fully remember everything that happens but you get snippets of very specific things you do when you’re out — that’s why the last page or two of paragraphs are broken up so differently than the rest of the fic, like little micro screnes. I had a fucking blast writing that piece and I really hope other people enjoy it as much as I did. There’s a lot more I can say about it, including the minor reference to Final Fantasy IV and my decisions regarding how the smut scene was written. I could go into detail a bit if people cared haha.

Q: So, when you are writing, who or what is your inspiration when you write?

A: I started writing when I was little but I didn’t really have any real inspirations then. I wrote because it was fun to create something from almost nothing. The past few years I’ve had a couple inspirations. One writer from tumblr who wrote Princess Bubblegum/Marceline (Bubbline) fics from Adventure Time. They were EXTREMELY well-written. I mean that person’s just an amazing writer overall. What I loved about their writing was how they wrote in present tense. I don’t think I’d really seen this before and I loved how it made everything seem like it was happening now and not being retold by the narrator. Eventually they wrote less Bubbline, but they also got really annoying with their posting so I unfollowed. Oh well.

 Now I don’t have many inspirations now, but I can say that as far as fanfiction is concerned, I do really wish I could write as well as SapphireSmoke. I haven’t read all her fics, but every one I do read is just so well-crafted and interesting, and the smut is top notch. I’m always fascinated every time I read a fic (they’re so long tho!).

 Q: I understand you are currently on a hiatus, but what can we expect when you make your return to writing?

A: So the biggest reason why I’m on hiatus is because I have no motivation due to a variety of things (adulting, breakup, etc). I also haven’t felt very great about my writing for a long time and I’m trying to take a break to maybe regain some confidence. In any case, there’s a lot of stuff I wanna write when I start back up. I’ve been on a serious Doki Doki Literature Club kick. Love the idea of Monika trying to be the perfect girlfriend for the Player character, and I’d love to see them in some unorthodox fics like college settings where the game either doesn’t exist or exists in some other form.

I’d also love to write more Lanille. I still love this pairing a lot and can do a lot more with it, unlike the Farrons (still wanna write them too but they’re getting difficult). And there’s more that I wanna write too for other pairings including Fang/Serah and Paine/Rikku.

 Q: Are you done with writing about the Farron sisters?

A: I am not done writing the Farrons. There’s still prompts I wanna do for Farronheit and I’d like to add to that until I completely burn out of them for good. They are definitely getting difficult to write. They feel too same-y, like there’s always some element of me making sure to show that their relationship is taboo, and then Serah using Snow as some sort of Lightning bait.... It gets repetitive.

 Q: Outside of the erotic or smutty kind of stories what else have you written?

A: So I’m a gigantic werewolf fan and like inserting them into anything. I’ve liked them since I was a kid (probably Bloody Roar’s fault) and enjoy writing them as well. I’ve been disappointed with how werewolves are portrayed in media — boring ass one-dimensional movie monsters that are only good for killing. That gets stale. I wanted to write werewolves doing more shit — having families, lives, social circles, dealing with puberty and the shifting stage, dealing with their significant others and getting the courage to tell the ones who are human about their identity. I feel like those make more interesting stories. I literally am so obsessed with werewolves, I took the time out to do mass amounts of research to craft my own personal werewolf species to use as a basis for any werewolf fics I write after that. It needs to be edited heavily.

 Q: Anything you don’t write?

 A: I don’t have the stamina or speed to write a multichaptered fic, really, or at least a coherent one. I’ve tried with a Lanille once, and now I don’t want to finish the fic at all. Content-wise, and as far as smut, there are, of course, a list of kinks I am definitely not interested in and will never write. But it’s too hard to say on a general level.

Q: Do you have any issues with making sure your staying as true to the characters as possible? For example projecting yourself onto them. A: Lightning's personality is kinda close to my own so she's fairly easy to write. I can throw a lot more of myself into her and (hopefully) make her sound more realistic. Serah is a bit more difficult because her personality differs from mine so much (Vanille as well). I tried to do a lot of research on the characters before I wrote them so I played the game over, took note of different things like body language and verbal tics. like Lightning has a tendency to say "Right" when she faces an awkward or difficult situation and rolls her eyes a lot. Vanille bounces around a lot .

We’d like to thank Aifirit for taking the time to make this interview possible. @fyeahnix

#author interview #fanfiction #fanfic

[fatethearcher]

Kimi no na wa x Persona 4/5

I am trash with my trashy ships and trashier headcanons someone stop me plz Continuation of my previous post -When do the mind swaps occur? During P4 for Rise's timeline (maybe Naoto's rescue mission?) and During P5 for Ann's timeline (3rd palace? or later but preferably 3rd) -is there a "Rise is dead" timeline? Yes. The timeline where Rise is dead gets overwritten though (similarly but different to KnnW) which is why to everyone in P5 Rise's poster at the station has "always been there" -how do they each deal with hiding their personae "changing" "Ann" volunteers to stay in the second party while exploring the palace on switching days. "Rise" makes excuses about being busy and asks if Teddie can be the navigator that day -do their teammates realize something is off? OBVIOUSLY this is persona we're talking about... The investigation team try to question "Rise" but she is very good at avoiding them on switching days--- probably because they're trying to find her where Rise would go, but it's Ann they're chasing soooooo XD it's the avoiding that's making them more suspicious though lol. The Phantom Thieves are just kinda like "We gotta deal with Kaneshiro*... she's not upset or anything so let's just leave her be. She'll tell us when she's ready" because "Ann" is super bubbly and stuff so it's odd but not necessarily a bad thing... they think? *whatever palace boss they're dealing with at the time -Why wouldn't Ann recognize Rise immediately when they switch bodies? Because Ann is originally in the "Rise's dead" timeline. She probably briefly remembers Risette from when she was in middle school but it's been years since Rise died and when switching bodies she's probably not going to automatically remember a dead idol she may not have even been a fan of. The switching bodies thing is weird enough thank you. But honestly she probably has an odd feeling of dejavu when she looks in the mirror and sees Rise's face but doesn't know where she has seen her before. -Do they have any habits that annoy the other Yesss Rise needs her coffee in the morning. It has to be super dark and bitter with no added ANYTHING or else she's a grump for the rest of the day. And if she's having a stressful day she'll keep drinking coffee the entire day--- aka every time they switch Rise ends up stressing out and ends up drinking enough coffee that she might as well drag an IV around with coffee in it lol Ann hates this because when they switch back she'll be all jittery and sometimes the coffee after taste will still be there when she wakes up and no amount of mouth wash will get rid of it. Ann likes coffee but she has to put lots of sugar and cream in it to the point that it's not really coffee anymore cuz there's no bitterness... (When they meet in person and start dating Ann is constantly telling Rise to go brush her teeth because no way are they kissing when Rise has extreme coffee breath. Rise kisses her anyway because fuck that) When Ann is in Rise's body she eats all of the sweets in Inaba if possible. Rise is [i]livid[/i] because Ann may be able to eat junk and not gain anything but Rise has to work out to maintain her figure thank you very much. (Ann is constantly taking selfies of "herself" while eating these sweets to chronicle what she's eaten that day though, and Rise kinda finds it adorable even tho Ann is in her body and it's kinda weird to see Ann being cute as her) When Rise brings Ann to Inaba for the first time (they still don't remember yet) to try the local sweets Ann is just kinda like "Why is this so familiar-- I've never been to Inaba..." (technically she has but she doesn't count that because she just kinda wandered the outskirts and she can't remember why she did sooo) -Habits they both end up having because of the mind swapping? It starts with Rise writing a sticky note and falling asleep with it on her face. Ann wakes up to "Seriously stop eating so much cake I'm gaining weight this isn't fun >___>" Ann replies back with sticky notes covering Rise's mirror completely that just all say "NO >;D" on them. Then they start a sticky note war that lasts a week or two. Rise's grandma is very confused lol. Once their war ends they will each write little "good morning <3" s to each other or "I made you lunch last night <3" When they meet again in person they still leave sticky notes for each other--- even before they regain their memory of each other--- They have no idea how they started doing this but it's familiar to them both. -When do they start to suspect there's more to the body switching and who notices first? Rise notices almost immediately that the technology level is a little bit too sophisticated for her time. (She just was in Tokyo a couple months ago there's no way it's changed this quickly) but doesn't want to consider maybe something else is going on because she's caught up in hiding her true identity as NOT ANN from the Phantom Thieves--- plus time travel and body swapping at the same time? Ridiculous there's no way--- Ann doesn't notice right away since Inaba is known for being a country-bumpkin kinda place where technology is like a decade behind. One day she tries to search herself on facebook though and--- oh shit thats her in middle school wtf. When she's back in her own body she searches Rise on facebook and finally makes the connection between Rise and Risette.... and finds out that Rise is dead... -How Rise died? I'm still a bit unsure on that. Right now I'm thinking that she was going to take the train back to Tokyo for the weekend to speak with Inoue about restarting her career--- then there is a huge train collision due to Japan's department of Transportation being lazy about stuff (P5 reference lol)---- and no one survives the crash.... There's a memorial at the site of the crash, which is within walking/driving distance of Inaba. All the victims names were written on an epitaph there, which Ann will visits to make sense of Rise having been dead for years already. -How does Ann reset the timeline? I'm still REALLY UNSURE ABOUT THIS ONE ☝️ Mostly because the way Rise dies is kinda still iffy for me.... but also because how the hell is Ann going to stop a train if I keep it as the method of death? Obviously Ann has to recruit Yu and the rest of the investigation team because that girl needs back up on this. The investigation team have complete faith in her because they know that Rise has good intuition--- and they still think she's Rise, even if she's been acting odd lately. When Ann switches to Rise so she can stop the train (or w/e it is), Rise ends up at the memorial in Ann's body. And she's just like; "Oh. Well I guess that explains a lot" - Does the sunset/twilight scene from KnnW happen with the girls in this AU? YES BECAUSE IM NOT ORIGINAL TT-TT ALSO BECAUSE I CAN IMAGINE RISE REALIZING SHE CANT REMEMBER ANN'S NAME AND JUST OPENING UP HER HAND AND SEEING "I LOVE YOU" AND JUST LOOSING HER COMPOSURE COMPLETELY And the rest of the investigation team are just so confused like "Rise we just saved hundreds of people why are you crying?" -How do they meet again? I'm kinda on the fence on if it would be like the end of KnnW or if they end up working together for a photo shoot or something and start hanging out afterwards... both could work very well but I'm leaning towards the original KnnW way because it's cute and the photo shoot one would just be the two of them being like "omg she's hot... and kinda familiar wtf?" -What do their friends think of their relationship? "You two are cute together but holy fuck do you move fast are you sure you don't need to slow down?!?" These two are like the definition of U-hauling with Rise finding herself staying at Ann's house almost every night within a week of knowing her (They're not having sex yet, let alone dating--- I just mean they're extremely domestic w/ each other and everything's just-- so comfortable?) Like Rise wakes up to Ann cooking breakfast one morning and is just like "Wow she's so amazing! I could spend the rest of my life with her" and then she has to backtrack that thought like "We aren't even dating where did that even come from?" And their friends are supportive but also like "You two need to slow down you act like you're already married" Surprise they've been kinda sorta dating since Rise was a first year in high school XDD ---- Gdhsiqnxosnsoakyxahabhss GDI WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?!? THIS IS THE MOST DETAILED AU IVE MADE IN A WHILE AND ITS A XOVER CRACK SHIP--- I SPENT AN HOUR WRITING THIS I MAY BE IN TOO DEEP

#Ann x Rise #Risann #persona 4 #persona 5 #ann takamaki #rise kujikawa #kimi no na wa #KnnWxPersonaAu

[rennyji]

May 30th tweets...oops...some more randomness...unrewarding experience...

May 30th tweets...-

- So, as some of U already no, amidst a problem for 11 years, Ive been frequently doing things likeDeleting &recreating facebook. 11 years ago, around that time, when all this started, when I started @ party school, I had 2facebooks. 1 registered 2 Binghamton, 1 to party school.-

- the one registered to Binghamton, I deleted my friends, put up a drawing of me as a picture, and wrote something random to put down a rumor and return to normalcy in the 2010 bare bones facebook. It was to tackle what I believed at the time to be the source of the problem.-

-As per the ultimate source of the problem, I could always be wrong, but I immediately got a reaction to the writing on that page by people in my surroundings, making me believe I was write about the first assumed source of the problem. -

-At the same time, like said previously, I had a facebook registered to party school. On it I had friends made at party school, people I met in the local area, and also my dorm/suite mates. This even had a picture of me, not a drawing. But the original orchestrators?-

-whoever they were, they focused on my "test facebook" to figure things out. sometimes you gotta put out random things in your environment to figure out an unknown situation, by observing for reactions...-

- amidst a drawing on the stalked facebook, 4 an otherwise uknown recluse like me 2 be in the "awareness of strangers," it means there is a photo of you going around. Why jump to that? I saw friends of a random girl & other strangers take pictures of me from afar at Binghamton.-

- Despite my awareness that something's wrong for 11 years, "the situation" continues. Imagine the compounding stress...1years of stress from normalStuff like school or work,  2 instruction fueled parents or complete/total/illegal randomness...how do U deal with that all that?!

- moving on...

-My family and me, in my youth, never took a lot of pictures after 13/starting high school. Not for any reason, despite dads love for Nikon cameras. due to school or work, there was never the time. That and before my parents made it in their careers, -

aside from family trips to India to see family, not a lot of vacationing to exotic places. college, and when I joined college, Facebook started for first time, never got to posting pictures. -

-On a different note, Facebook was nothing like it is today. Very simple in, I think 2006-my God, it’s 202-but anyway, even my more notorious Facebook writing wasn’t even in a modern “Note”or whatever. It was in the “About Me” “section” of a very basic/simplistic Facebook-but -

-back to the point...I think it’s beyond random and weird that there may be total strangers with possible pictures of my youth...

Oh my gosh... Becky...look at her bu....no, what I mean is...oh...my...gosh...for 11 years, what if ur orthodox Christian-cultural clash-parents steered the direction of entertainment on your life...how would they do it...the orchestrators clearly want me to be crazy...-

-and the school, from their involvement is going to be in legal trouble...how are all these people painting me...regarding my strict parents, I can’t do anything with a girl in the house I grew up in, not that as a grown adult that I care. I mean I was scared to ask -

-my culturally different parents to go to my high school prom. Didn’t want to hear their No! My brother, on the other hand? About him, he’s also a grown adult, finishing his residency as a doctor and moving onto bigger and better things. My parents think the guy-

-who wasn’t as focused on school as I was or who didn’t please them all the time like me, is the ideal or better son. Me? Particularly after involvement with the orchestrators, my parents -

- just think I’m out of my mind in everything I do. What did my brother, the ideal son, do, for his prom? The nuts on this one is ridiculous...he begged and got permission to go with a blonde girl at the prom at our all boys private college preparatory high school. -

-Then to make his secret girl friend happy, he tells my parents he’s going to sleep over at a friends place. What does he actually do? Him and the friend at the pretend sleep over take a train to Connecticut from New York to attend his blonde girl friend’s-

-prom at her school there. They do what they do, return the next day, and my parents aren’t any wiser. My parents praise my little brother. What do I get for a lifetime of obedience? Random obstacles, and getting yelled at or provoked, to get me to say things for entertainment. -

-I’m in the shoes or boat of someone who just can’t set things right in this praising of my brother vs. me...such is life...-

-As part of the nonsense that goes on to make what I’m calling sick “entertainment,” happen, YESTERDAY AFTERNOON (***corrected from twitter, where it says “today”), my mother comes to me and says she wants to wax the floor of my bedroom/office/space in our family house-rent for nice apartments in good areas cost $1700-$2000. Staying in the -

-house saves me money and allows me to use that money for other things. But anyway. She tells me she also wants to vacuum. I’m like Ok. Then, as usual, the random dialogue starts. It randomly escalates. -

-It’s one of those “but you said...now ur saying this...it doesn’t make sense...what are you even talking about...” situations. -

-Usually In this “show”, randomness like that occurs, where my mother makes faces at me, slams a hammer or walks to another room while I’m talking, or says something condescending. This I believe is to get me to say things at a point of aggravation.-

-Keep provoking until you get a show. This is what all of you witness and allow to continue by never telling me anything. It then fills the mind with distracting, resulting anger/frustration, the resulting thoughts, and the mind of lack of focus that fails to get things done. -

-Such is 11 yrs of life. If the provocation is to get me to go out, there’s only so many places I can go, so much money I can spend, while simultaneously no one says nothing to me. So what is the point of all this?! What happens with the room waxing/vacuuming?-

-Well mom has me like all my things onto bed &other places where things shouldn’t be so that the wooden floors are clear. Then after provoking me, she makes it seem something that didn’t happen or she thinks happened is my fault. She walks out without her completing her desire -

-2 wax &vacuum, &now leaves me w/the burden of having 2fix my room up, so that my bed is clear to sleep on, all after I finish a personal-but actually 2 person- project Ive been putting off, &showering. I guess this morning(W/respect to yesterday, that is-forgot to clarify that)-

-is the only relaxation I get...and like that, with a constantly aggravated or busy mind, I have to finish work for my job and get other things done...you look to things like a massage at places, but that’s 90 minutes, and the weird life thing is all day amidst 11 years...-

The even with dear Ma happened yesterday, and clearly not at 6:14 AM. forgot to clarify that. will make the correction when it goes into my tumblr link...

Moving onto normal stuff -

- Did any of you know that dark roast coffee contains less caffeine than light roast. I think everyone shares in my misconception that dark roast is stronger, but its written as not, online. Google it...

I said it before, I’ll say it again, peace of mind is priceless. I hope I end up with woman who fuels that, rather than more drama.

[nirvanadavi]

Twenty-Seven

1. Let shit go! Don’t hold on to what could have, should have, or would have been. Put it behind you and move the fuck on.

2. Be positive! This was my only “New Years Resolution”. Do not allow any negative energy into your personal space. Surround yourself with positivity and own that shit like a m'fkr!

3. Cleanliness is a lifestyle choice! I’m talking about personal hygiene here. Throughout my teens and early 20’s (god I feel old AF because I’m now in the “late 20’s” age range) I never stuck to a skin care regime. Now it’s kicking me in the ass. Cleansers. Toners. Exfoliating. Weekly masks. Eye creams. All of these products have taken over my makeup stand and it’s SO worth it.

4. Love the skin you’re in! In the last 2 years, because of the birth control switch up, I’ve gained 30lbs that I cannot wait to get rid of. However, I understand that I have to accept what is, my body shape, and learn to live with it. I’m okay with being overweight because I’m working to correct it. There’s no use crying at my reflection when it’s fixable.

5. Healthy is the way to be! I’ve been on and off with my gym schedule and eating clean for a million different reasons. Actually, excuses, I should say. Once I got my lazy behind back to the gym, I felt a million times better! My sleep schedule was way better and I found myself having a lot more energy. Eating clean is a day by day process and I’m so happy with how far I’ve come. It’s a long road, but I’m determined to be healthier for my future.

6. Schedule alone time! Omg YAS! I completely need this. Every week or so, I pick a day where I plan to do absolutely nothing. Physically that is. I wouldn’t say I meditate because I don’t. However, I get myself ready for bed super early and I just lay there and contemplate my thoughts. I throw around ideas and thoughts and write it down on post it notes. I allow myself to tune the world out and focus solely on myself and what I need.

7. Be social! Coming from me, lord that’s new. I hate people. I hate being out and being social. But, I can’t be a recluse forever. My significant other is way too outgoing for me to be a social outcast anymore lol. It’s good to break free and let loose every once in a while. Double dates with dinner and drinks has its perks. I get to see friends and still spend time with my boyfriend. Fresh air won’t kill me. *knock on wood!

8. Keep up with your calendar! I cannot stress this enough! I use my dry erase calendar, the calendar on my iPhone, and on my MacBook. If it’s not in my calendar, it’s not happening. I forget everything so if I don’t put it in one of the 3 calendars I check religiously, guess you’re not that important lol.

9. Cursing is a no no. This pains my heart because I have the worst potty mouth. But, I’ve gotta cut back on my bad words. I seriously cuss like a sailor and I never thought much of it. But as I age, I realize my language needs a tweak.

10. Listen more; speak less! LOL. Everyone knows that I talk WAY too much. And I’m loud as hell. But, I’ve tried to not open my mouth to respond as much. Sometimes listening is better than talking. Let’s see how this ones goes.

11. Humble yourself! I know I’m a badass. I know I’m all that and a bag of chips. Just because I know it, doesn’t mean I need to flaunt it. Keep it simple and humble yourself. Instead of making yourself seem big, understand that you’re the bomb.com and you always have to work to keep it that way.

12. Sleep consistently! Forreal people. This is important. Sleeping allows the body to rest and rejuvenate itself for the next day. Don’t wear and tear yourself to keep up with others. I love my sleep. I’m a nap queen. Getting a solid 6-7 hours of sleep is a must. Every single night. No matter what.

13. Coffee is NOT the answer! Sometimes I feel like I should just start an IV from the coffee pot. I know a lot of adults feel the same way. This was the hardest change for me personally. I cut my coffee intake from 3 cups to 1. Hopefully I can cut the 1 down to a half. Less coffee, more green tea!

14. Be responsible for yourself! Seriously guys. We’re adults. Act like it. Own up to your shit. Simple as that.

15. Love yourself! This should have been my #1. Honestly, if you can’t love yourself, then you have no business trying to love another. This was my biggest lesson in the last few years. I’ve learned to love myself and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Because I love myself so much, I’m able to love my significant other even more. Yes, it’s really that simple.

16. Don’t over do it! Please please please. Do not pile on stuff and then end up so overwhelmed that nothing gets done. Quality over quantity is key. Give it your all and finish one task before starting or committing to another.

17. Be prepared! It’s the little things that count here. Keep an umbrella in your car. Bring a sweater. Have wet wipes in your purse. Along with Tylenol, hand sanitizer, and a Tide to go pen. You just never know. Travel size items come in handy more than you realize.

18. Keep your circle small! I can count the number of REAL friends I have on 1 hand. Close that hand and it becomes a fist. That’s all I need. Sure, I can be friendly towards you. That doesn’t mean we’re friends. As you get older, you’ll find yourself with less time and little tolerance for 101 people trying to be in and out your life. This ain’t pon de river pon de bank. Stay in the river fam.

19. Make yourself your #1 priority! Stop putting everyone and their momma ahead of you, your wants, and your needs. Before you can make anyone else happy, you gotta do what you gotta do for YOU.

20. Stability keeps you sane! At this point, you should have your life somewhat together. Career and finances should not be up in the air at this age. Buckle down and get it together!

21. Say no! Repeat it with me. N-O! If you don’t want too, don’t. Don’t. You’re an adult. Say no to people and situations that aren’t for you.

22. Patience is a virtue. I have none. Or, I had none. Now I do. And it’s worth it. Waiting for what’s right, for things to fall into place and make sense, is so completely worth it.

23. What’s meant to be, will be! Don’t force anything. It won’t be sincere. It won’t feel or fit right. Let the pieces of your life put themselves together when it’s meant to be.

24. Your body is a temple! Respect the skin you’re in. Don’t use and abuse your body and then expect to be at your best and feel 100%. It doesn’t work like that. What you put in, is what you’ll get out. Treat yourself and take care of yourself and you’ll see what I mean.

25. Your life partner should be your best friend! And he is. After 10 years plus in the dating game, I’ve found the one. When people used to tell me, “you’ll know when you find the right one”, I would roll my eyes and ignore it. Falling in love with someone who loves me unconditionally has taught me so much. He’s the man of my dreams and I’m so blessed that he’s my very best friend. I can be myself with him because our weirdness compliments the other.

26. Be a goal digger! Set daily, weekly, and monthly goals. Be realistic and know your time frame. Write it down so you can cross it off and clap for your damn self. Do everything you set your mind to do. The sky is the limit and you can have it all! I promise.

27. Respect the hustle! Grind hard every day and respect what you do. Love your profession and own it. Be badass and earn your paycheck. Don’t put down someone else’s hustle. That’s their business. Don’t mind it. Mind your own. Earn each dollar and understand it’s worth.

This is what 27 has taught me.