#which is why i am crippled with guilt

[sidetongue]

they’re cool gals 

#i quit my job last week #one of them #i started a job 7 months ago with one of the local animal rescues #it only took 7 months to suck all of the life out of me #i feel so ashamed that i've quit #but i was working 60 hour weeks #with only one day off #and i was watching dog after dog die #and i do that anyway #i work at a vet clinic where euthanasia is a daily part of ife #but these weren't euthanasias #there was nothing kind about these dogs dying #they lost their lives because the organisation failed them #they should have lived #and i saved some #i saved as many as i could #but it wasn't nearly enough #and so so so many more will die now that i'm not there #which is why i am crippled with guilt #i feel relieved because i now have time to go to the river with my dogs #which i havent done in months #but i also feel shame that my dogs are living beautiful lives when others are not #when i should be helping others #idk man #iit's a sucky feeling #miller #budgie #dogs

[givemearmstopraywith]

My mom keeps asking me why I stopped going to confession (I'm catholic, but it's complicated) and one of the reasons why is that it feels stupid and pointless to me. But is there like good reasons why I maybe should give it a try? Is confession even biblical? Or am I right for staying away from it? (side note: I've not been to confession for about 6 years now (I think), but before that I've been going to confession pretty much regularly for maybe 10 years. So it's not something I've just "tried" once and never again.)

there is no biblical precedent for confession as it exists in the catholic church. in 1 john 1:9, we're told that if we confess our sins to one another, God is faithful to us and forgives us. number 5:7 lays out the historical jewish practice of publicly confessing sins and making restitution. confessing to a priest means that you are confessing to a mediator between yourself and God, and that mediator gives you your restitution for those sins- these are works, since in catholicism we are justified through faith and works and not by faith alone, as in the protestant tradition. there's a lot of strength and depth to justification through faith and works, rather than just justification through faith: but i think you, like many christians, probably crave "works" that are a bit more comprehensive, more humane, than what is typically utilized in confession.

on the other side of this issue, hebrews 3:1 and 7-22-27 tells us that jesus is the high priest of our confession, the one mediator between God and men. on christ can forgive sins: but importantly the priest does not forgive your sin himself, he simply acts as a mediator on your behalf- a descendent of prophets, you might say. part of what i like about the anglican church is that the confession of sins is built into the liturgy, said as a congregation before partaking of the eucharist. this to me seems pithy and practical. but i am also someone who suffers from scruples: i never feel quite good enough, i am oppressed by the knowledge of my own fallenness and base nature (but i am getting better at not feeling this way all the time- nobody should, God does not want us to be crippled by guilt).

it is neither right nor wrong to stay away from confession. what it comes down to is your calling. everyone is called, but we are called in different directions. some are called to partake fully in the life of the catholic church, with its rites, rituals, sacramentalism, and tradition: all of these things are beautiful and meaningful in their own way, but they will be neither of those things to anyone who is not called to it. some are called to have a personal, private relationship with God. others are called to not have one at all. whether we conceive God in an inherent manifestation of "thinginess" or not, we are all called somewhere. it is the nature of being human, because to be human means to be woven into the universe and all it contains. the other thing is that we all do require confession on some level, because we all commit acts that are devoid of goodness- whether accidentally or with purpose.

my personal belief about sin is that it does not exist the way goodness exists, with form: sin is simply an emptiness, created by my own wrongdoing, waiting to be filled with goodness. part of how i feel that emptiness and try to fill it again is through public confession in the anglican church, by private prayerfulness, and by a concerted effort to minimize the harms i commit in my life as much as i can, which means restitution, reconciliation, and sitting with my guilt. but i have never felt personally called to the act of confessing my wrongdoing to a priest, although i have felt called to seek advice and clarification from them.

i am also someone who has a complicated relationship with catholicism and religion in general: i also had a mom who got on me for not performing my religiosity the way she expected me to, or the way i was taught or raised. my advice is ultimately, that this issue is between you and God. if its something you feel comfortable with, talk to God (or the universe, or Spirit, or whatever you conceive a higher power to be). wait. listen. pay attention. if your spirit does not feel called to confession, listen to it. in the practical side, i might suggest tell your mom that you are in a process of discerning God's call for you. if you are comfortable with it, you may want to talk to a priest or another member of clergy on this topic- you may also want to try attending a different denomination, or another faith tradition altogether. read the bible. read torah. read the qur'ran. pray. i spent a long time discerning what God wanted from me, went through a period of agnosticism, atheism, and other, more pearl-clutchy things, and ended up more involved in my faith than anyone, including my mom, ever expected- but i needed to walk away from it first. i needed find my way home. God does not mind if we wander. he made a whole world for us to wander in. God's story with humanity is full of people walking away and finding their way back where they started again: or they are taken to places they could have never imagined. either way, he is there. either way, you'll know. but lean into this place you're in now: it, like everything, has something to teach you.

#replies

[thegreymoon]

Ah, it is crying hours for me tonight as I am now rereading Chu Wanning's death scene(s). As if the one after the Heavenly Rift was not bad enough, we finally got the details on his death in the 0.5 timeline and... yeah 😢

But I did have one moment of clarity. This part always confused me:

The word "reminiscence" that was used both here and in the unofficial translation kind of conjures up for me the image two people having a long, friendly talk, possibly over drinks, about their shared memories. And I just couldn't imagine 0.5 Taxian-jun and Xue Meng having a friendly get-together where they would "reminiscence" ever again. Nor could I imagine that Chu Wanning harboured any hope of a reconciliation between them, because Mo Ran had, at this point already slaughtered so many people, including Xue Zhengyong, Madam Wang and the entirety of Sisheng Peak.

However, it occurred to me that what Chu Wanning actually meant would be more along the lines of "remember" or "recall". At this point, Chu Wanning knows about the flower curse. He knows it has wiped Mo Ran's good memories, but he still clings to hope that Mo Ran will somehow eventually snap out of it, maybe break the curse of his own volition, at which point he would want to remember his past and have to ask somebody who knew him when he was young.

Chu Wanning keeps telling Mo Ran to wake up, and in retrospect, he obviously means "wake up" from the spell:

Chu Wanning summoning Jiuge without his spiritual core makes it clear that in spite of being crippled and imprisoned, Chu Wanning still had options to either kill himself or kill Taxian-jun. Yet he chose to live on, even in this state of suffering. Yes, his primary motivation for giving himself to Taxian-jun in the first place was to protect Xue Meng and to maybe mitigate as much damage as he possibly could. But he also loved Mo Ran, he loved him so much and felt such guilt for not protecting him from this evil. Later on in the book, there is that part where Chu Wanning considers killing him and finds the idea unthinkable. Because, let's be real, if Chu Wanning had been motivated enough to kill Taxian-jun, he would have figured out a way. He figured out how to create a rift in time and space with no spiritual core in order to save him. If he had ever seriously wanted Taxian-jun dead, Taxian-jun would have died. But Chu Wanning loved him and held on to hope that he could bring him back. Even his last words to Mo Ran were about forgiving himself.

He says this as he lies there dying:

He still tries to call him back:

Later on in the book, when Chu Wanning 0.5 merges with 2.0, we get that flashback where he likens himself to a torch burning itself out to light the way for Mo Ran to return home eventually and worries about what will happen if he burns out before he turns back. The idea of Mo Ran being forever lost in the dark torments him.

Also, the only reason he chose to die at that point in the 0.5 timeline is because of a desperate hope that his death might snap Mo Ran out of his madness, which even works, in a way. Mo Ran does try to turn back. He desperately seeks someone who can tell him what he was like before because he can no longer remember, but at that point, there is nobody left. This is exactly what Chu Wanning was afraid of, which was why he implored him not to kill Xue Meng. Because after he himself was gone (and he knew that this last escapade with Jiuge was a suicide mission), Xue Meng would be the only person left alive who had known Mo Ran before the flower ate up his mind.

There is no turning back for Mo Ran in the 0.5 timeline and when he realizes this, he decides to end his life.

(A tiny thing that proved me half-wrong, though, is that Taxian-jun and Xue Meng did eventually sit down and reminiscence in the extras! But, again, only half-wrong, because that was not Taxian-jun's Xue Meng. His Xue Meng died in that flood and they never reconciled, so 😢)

#2ha #2ha meta #long post #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan #xue meng

[head-in-the-clouds-ahh]

so idk if ppl are ever gonna see this but are the kotlc books worth it? (If you don't want to read the long rant just stop here but if you don't mind you're welcome to give me feedback on my opinions)

I'm on lodestar rn and the writing honestly feels so repetitive and childish - just like sth I would've written when I was 11 (like Fitz tugging on Sophie's ponytail, Keefe's jokes that do not match with his age, etc.)

everything is also so dragged out like so much of the nearly-700-page book is about the characters arguing but I feel like it's just pointless arguing SM put to lengthen the book. also an unreasonable amount is about the love triangle and how Sophie's heart flutters every time she sees Fitz.

I also feel like SM added too many characters and is struggling to give them enough page time. like in the first book Dex literally was the person who went on the adventure with Sophie and now it feels like he's just the technopath whenever they need something and it's such a shame considering Dex is one of my favorite characters. (but also idk if Dex likes Sophie or not because we've already got a love triangle and so much of the book is already fluff and talking about romance that i honestly just want a male character to have a platonic relationship w/Sophie)

not to mention the characters just do not feel fleshed out to me. they say stuff that teenagers don't say, the elven species are literally all gorgeous but there really isn't much elaboration or development on that aspect, and let's just take Sophie and Fitz for example.

personally, I think Sophie is a terrible friend. the thing that stood out most to me was how she left Dex out multiple times and keeps saying stuff like "please don't hate me." combined with other factors it just seems like she's pretty self-centered. not to mention the fact that she literally does not know how to follow orders and I'm not saying the black swan or the councillors come up with good plans I'm just saying the formula of the book is literally just "various plot points get introduced and a problem surfaces -> everyone tells Sophie to stay put -> Sophie disobeys them -> whatever chaos ensues after that." this just makes her unlikable as a character.

Fitz is just... that absolutely gorgeous guy who the main character has a crush on. he barely gets any character development (like most of the other characters.) and yes there was some form of development when Alden was crippled by guilt and fell unconscious but there was literally no development or elaboration on how he handles his guilt from that point on. like even in lodestar Sophie mentions multiple times that anger was Fitz's way of concealing or dealing with problems but that's it.

I do think that kotlc has an incredible and compelling plot, which is why I am so reluctant to give up this series. i used to devour these books in less than a week. and the first books were good. everything felt more authentic (I'm saying that as someone who read the first book when I was fifteen and am now sixteen, and yes, I am aware that this is a middle grade book, but the age difference when I read the books is so little I feel it's unlikely that my opinion of the writing has changed so much)

I'd like to emphasize that this is not a hate post. I still love the series very much, but I'm just questioning whether I should keep on reading. these are just my opinions on this book after reading five books of the series. you're welcome to give me your opinions, and many thanks to anyone who gives a reply!

#kotlc #kotlc fandom #questions #kotlc sophie #kotlc fitz #kotlc dex #fantasy #shannon messenger

[melisusthewee]

WIP Weekend...???

I've been tagged in a few of these but haven't shared much recently because oh boy, have I been trying to juggle a bunch of things going on. I need a day planner - or someone more organized than me keep on top of a day planner for me.

Anyways, here's a splash of all the things I've got cooking across fandoms (except my Terror Reverse Bang stuff which is a surprise!).

After talking to some friends and artists, it turns out it's a pretty even split between those who paint over the background in screenshot redraws and those who just filter/leave it in. As someone who hates painting backgrounds, I thought to splice in a background similar to what I did when I made the fake DA Absolution screenshot. But I hate it. Which means I'm going to have to do my own background. And that's why all I've gotten done are flat test colours since the last time I showed this.

Overdue commission work. It's not much, but overcoming executive dysfunction and crippling guilt over it being overdue to start working on it was a huge accomplishment for me. Also hi, look forward to another flower cameo portrait soon! (I always love these once I get going on them.)

Watch my follower count just disappear and people come at me with pitchforks now that I publicly announce I'm drawing rugby boys. It started as an exercise because I have spent the past several years drawing the same character (QUINN) over and over and over again and it's made me feel like I've gotten stuck? I know I joke that "I can draw all of one dude" but I've recently felt like it's become a legitimate problem. And then it got out of hand. Anyone want Marcelo stickers? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

How about "ASK ME ABOUT EUROPE" ones?

Tagging people that I've seen working on things or experimenting with stuff/exercises because even though I know I haven't been present much, I still see the things you're working on and am silently cheering you on: @greypetrel @ndostairlyrium @daggerbeanart @theluckywizard @delicatefade @nirikeehan @dreadfutures @kiastirling @idolsgf @zoannearts

#wip wednesday #also special shout outs to arja for giving me really great tips and helping guiding me through the sticker process #and the cold boys rugby club for being such a wonderful test audience for feedback on designs

[doodlegirl1998]

Really thinking about what you said "My Abuser academy"and it feel too right in canon.

Look Endy being forgiven and people apologising to him feels it was a progression of a nig scheme. Let me try to explain

BK is visually being abusive to Izu. Hori undermines that, somehow and only god knows what this man thinks, makes Izu's tears a joke.

Fandom went along.

And you see many, many arts with Izu and BK.

Some people think Hori will redeem him.

Then we go to Endy. He is abusive to his family and at first it seems this will be taken serious....but Endy's redemption begins when he got what he wanted...and he doesnt lose anything.

It is all a progression. If people found funny BK trying to kill Izu (and I bet there are people like that) than...there are people who wanted to see abuser Endy be redeemed.

Hi @mikeellee 👋,

Yeah I have to admit in my more cynical moments there are parts of MHA where the messaging can feel quite malicious at times;

The constant undermining and playing up for comedy with Bakugou's abusive behavior seems to be (combined with what I know of Japans stance on bullying) mean-spirited in particular toward Izuku. Also using both AM and Aizawa as mouth pieces to push the narrative that whatever toxic mess that Bkg and Izuku have going on is a rivalry? Like Izuku has some fault in Bkg's toxic bullying bullshit? Nope! It's shit to read and I hate it.

Hori now brushing over the true weight of Endeavour's abuse with his retcons "Rei just tripped", "Incest in the Himura family is why Dabi and Rei are crazy" (a take I've unfortunately heard from Endeav fans), "Evil Touya tried to kill Shoto so that's why Endeav kept Shoto away from the other kids - he wasn't deliberately separating the masterpiece at all!!) Also the way Hori is framing this is gross - like with Izuku and Bakugou - he's trying to make out like Endeav's victims also have some fault in how Dabi turned out.

Bonus - have a third example! Hawks and Twice. What did Hawks lose for killing Twice? His reputation with the heroes? Nope. His job? Nope. His wings and/or health? Nope. Experience any crippling guilt for stabbing his mentally ill friend in the back and murdering him in cold blood? Also Nope, to add insult to injury Nagant, experiences more guilt than him, has a moment where she looks up to him for still having HOPE! And he answers with 'I guess I'm an optimist.' How can you be Hawks?! Where's the goddamn guilt you should feel?! The conflict? The...anything apart from being up Endeavors ass! Do you feel my anger about this?! Granted Toga is using Twice's blood to go on a murderous rampage but she didn't use that to kill Hawks or go after those he cares for like Tokoyami (does he care for Tokoyami, actually?- that bond feels like Tokoyami likes Hawks more than Hawks likes him to be honest but the point still stands.)

TLDR - the abusers and murderers in MHA lose nothing as long as they're on the heroes side which is a godawful message to have considering the heroes in this story are meant to be like super powered cops.

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #Anti Bakugou #anti endeavor #Anti Hawks

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Umbaran Pathogen - Day 24: Hunted Down

Summary: Kix and Twitch make an extremely upsetting discovery, but also find out that there is a way to safely deal with the parasites. They just have to set a trap to ensnare some very big prey without getting caught in the act...

Warning: N/A

Twitch belongs to @gaeasun Pitch belongs to @lost-on-kamino

Here's what Tup and Dogma currently look like!

Prev / Next

[In which the events on Umbara are worsened by an unknown pathogen taking hold of both the 501st and 212th. These series of drabbles will follow a non-linear timeline based on the AI-less Whumptober prompt list for 2023.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Even though Kix could see that the kid was just about ready to collapse from pure exhaustion, Twitch surprised him by keeping up with the group on their way down to the basement.

It was a remarkable feat of resilience on the rookie's part, considering he was walking with a limp and barely keeping his head up. It was also a show of pure stubbornness, since Twitch obviously refused to not see this whole mess through to the end.

Despite being in such rough shape.

They had begun the journey downwards once Coric had been brought out of shock and tended to. The older medic having had to endure an excruciating amount of pain, as Kix and Twitch had both done their best to clean the horrific wound on his shoulder. Only after the injury was clean enough and tightly bandaged, was he anywhere near ready to make the trek down the hatch, and along the corridor that led to the basement's separate lift system.

The CMO was, of course, lagging behind while visibly staggering with each step. Rex keeping a close eye on his fellow veteran trooper while he stood nearest to Sponge, who'd since woken up confused and heavily concussed. But at least both were on their feet. Unlike Pitch who, even though he was no longer paralyzed by Dogma's venom, was unable to walk at all due to the sizeable hole in his thigh.

It was very likely he'd need some extensive physio-therapy to regain use of the leg, once he'd healed enough to put any weight on it. That is, if he did not need to completely relearn how to walk... The vein Dogma had hit had been a direct pathway to the heart, and was thusly incredibly sensitive to damage. They couldn't be sure he hadn't been crippled for life. Not without their scanners at hand, and they couldn't stop to go a few floors above to search for any.

They were thusly short three medics in the end. Two of which needed supervision while they walked because they were so unsteady on their feet, and the third who was dependent of Fives carrying him to get anywhere at all.

It honestly made sense why Twitch felt the need to push himself to help. Even if it made Kix's heart twinge with both pain and guilt. But, as much as he would like it for his kih'vod to rest, they couldn't spare the amount of time he'd need.

They had already waited too long...

"How deep did they think they needed this basement to be?" Fives grumbled as they settled in the lift for the long way down, finding at least one tiny mercy in the form of built-in seating.

"Deep enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention." Rex shrugged, letting both Coric and Sponge lean against his shoulders as they sat down. "At least there's no obnoxious music..."

"Thank goodness for the littlest of kindnesses, am I right?" Fives snorted, leaning his head back against the lift's paneled walls. Eyes closing as he tried to relax. "If I hear that stupid soap commercial's jingle any sooner than I have to, I'll kill everyone in this lift and then myself..."

"Which one? The Nabooian beaches one with all the bikini babes, or the one about Jakku's beautiful white sands and guided luggabeast tours?" Rex asked sarcastically.

"Doesn't matter." Fives huffed in response. "Both should be classified as psychological torture..."

The banter was comforting in a way. Almost normal, in the face of such stressful events like the ones that had transpired not even a a full hour ago. It made Kix feel a little more like himself (a little more human), just hearing his brothers attempt some idle chatter.

Stars only knew they all needed the brief respite...

He noticed that Twitch was running his fingers through his messy hair, wincing anytime they got caught in the clumps that had gotten stuck together with dry blood.

Before they'd left the lobby he had asked for Kix's canteen so that he could clean his face with some water, despite it being so cold that it might be dangerous to do so. But Kix hadn't denied him that chance.

Not when Twitch had looked so stressed out.

He looked a little better, now that his face wasn't covered in blood. But he was still shaky and very clearly tired. Yet that determined little spark didn't leave his eyes. He would rest only when this was all done and dealt with, Kix could tell.

Twitch wanted to help put an end to all this misery and terror.

"Lift's starting to slow..." The Captain calmly pointed out. "We're almost there."

"Yeah... Just hope we get what he came here for." Fives sighed, running a hand over his face and trying to shake himself out of the sudden bout of apprehension. "What am I saying? Of course we will. We didn't come this far for nothing."

Sometimes Kix really envied Fives's confidence. Even if it made him a bit of a hopeless dreamer. But then again, if all of them were realists then morale would have tanked long ago...

Eventually the lift did come to a stop, the doors opening up to reveal a slightly less frigid room full of server towers and shelves stacked to the very top with equipment. As well as all kinds of high powered fans and liquid nitrogen tanks. Likely the cooling systems keeping everything from overheating.

On first glance, they could immediately tell the entire place was a maze where one could easily get lost in. Lucky for them they had a map. One which easily led them all the way to the main console.

Twitch immediately settled next to Kix, taking up one of two available chairs and beginning to search up the terms they needed. Behind them Rex and Fives both focused on the three injured medics, keeping them tightly wrapped up in their blankets and letting them rest for the moment.

Kix had to make sure Twitch's own blankets stayed on while the younger medic tapped away furiously on the console. His eyes darting from one line of information to the next, as he concentrated on his task.

"How's it looking over there?" Fives asked, which earned him a slightly frustrated growl from their kih'vod.

"Working on it... I'm running a translator while I search." Twitch pointed out. "Even with all the extra memory and cooling systems, this entire setup is slower than our old datapads..."

"I'm not surprised. The databanks are extensive..." Kix hummed in thought as he watched the screens. What he couldn't do if he had all this medical knowledge at the tip of his fingertips. Just one search away from the perfect treatment plan, instead of having to guess based on basic modules he'd studied ages ago...

"Got it!" Twitch exclaimed, looking relieved as he finally found what he'd been looking for. Then, after a few minutes of reading through, the little smile he'd had on his face began to drop.

"...You good kid?" Fives asked.

Scrolling back up, Twitch reread what was on the screen. Kix did the same, a pit forming in his stomach as he began to process what he was reading. A horrid realization dawning on him.

"....The changes are permanent..." He whispered to himself, but the ARC must have heard him all the same.

"Kix?"

"There's no way to cure them... The changes are permanent." The medic hid his face in his hands and let out a muffled scream of frustration. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, not when the parasites had essentially rewritten their vode's DNA in such a drastic manner...

The moment they left orbit with any of their transformed brothers in the state that they were now, they were as good as dead. The natborns would send them away, back to Kamino, to be dissected or worse...

They'd been foolish to hope for anything less.

"So they're stuck like this forever? Acting like... Like monsters?!" Fives was clearly upset by the news. So were Rex, Coric, Sponge and Pitch who looked as equally distraught.

"Not necessarily..." Twitch responded. "Their bodies are altered beyond repair... But there's a way to at least get rid of the parasites that are controlling them."

He scrolled back down, pointing to the only treatment plan available for the Umber Blight. Reading through it, Kix's anxieties did not lessen in the slightest. It was incredibly risky.

"We have the equipment we need here." Twitch continued. "We just need... We just need to find a way to get one of them in here to make sure it works on them..."

"What do you mean IF it works? I thought you just said there was a way to do it?" Rex frowned, looking towards Twitch with both confusion and concern.

"It's only been done on Umbarans, sir." The younger medic explained, bringing up several images to further make his point clear. "The alterations done to them are similar to what we saw with Tup and Dogma. But, because we are biologically not the same, there's clearly some key differences..."

"Which means re-calibrating the operation theater and all the equipment to the right specs..." Coric groaned loudly, understanding the risks. "We need one of them to try it out on, and there's no guarantee we'll get it right..."

"....So there's a risk we could kill them with this procedure?" Fives asked, sounding incredibly disturbed by that prospect.

The silence that followed more than answered his question...

-

Tup had fallen asleep which had helped to further relax Dogma. Despite his failure as a Drone, the current injuries that made him useless to his Hive-Leader and Hive, he'd been forgiven and held closely. Shown mercy he did not deserve because he was a bad Drone and a bad brother.

It warmed his heart.

Made him feel all nice and fuzzy knowing that Tup wasn't angry about his obvious deficiencies as a servant. Maybe he'd done enough in the beginning to prove his worth? Maybe he could still make amends...

But the question was how.

Looking at his sleeping Hive-Leader, Dogma couldn't help but let his antennae droop slightly. He needed to make it right, to show Tup that he could do this. That he could get him those monsters that had dared to attack them. Starting with the fluffy haired one. The one who'd bitten his Hive-Leader and caused him such terrible pain, that it had knocked him out of the sky.

He just needed a chance!

The door to the medical facility opened. Perking up, Dogma looked towards it in surprise before looking back down at his sleeping brother. Tup was so deep in slumber that he hadn't noticed the change at all. And Dogma wouldn't dare disturb his Hive-Leader's much needed rest. Not when he too had a healing wound.

A thought crossed his mind which got the Drone to slowly wiggle his way out from his brother's side. Careful so as to not wake him. So as to not ruin the surprise he had in store for him. He'd ambush the pests all by his lonesome, sting them before they knew what hit them, and drag them all to his Hive-Leader wrapped up in a silken bow.

He'd make Tup proud of him! Make him happy! That's all Dogma really wanted! What he most craved.

With this all-consuming desire to serve and to please ignited and fueling him, Dogma sneaked forward. Keeping an eye on the medical facility's open doors. His antennae twitched as he took in the scents of sterile cleanliness and clone alike.

He was being careful so as to go unnoticed. They'd picked a spot where they remained hidden while still being able to carefully watch the hospital for movement. So far he hadn't seen anyone come out, but surely they must be near the doors to set off the automated opening system...

That said, the closer Dogma got the less sure he felt. He couldn't see anyone... Which made no sense. If no one was near the doorway, then why had the doors opened?

Something didn't feel right...

Getting as close as he could before the crippling cold that billowed out of the building made it near impossible to do so, the Drone squinted inside at the well lit lobby. It was completely empty... Taking a deep breath and sticking his head inside, he found that his targets weren't hiding by the threshold either.

What he did see was a damaged panel with sparking wires.

It clicked too late what this actually was. So late in fact that he never even saw the attack coming, nor did he have the time to cry out for help. All that really registered was hands pinning his limbs down, including his injured wings which hurt like hell at the contact. Then something sharp piercing the side of his neck in a gap between armored scales.

And then Dogma knew nothing...

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #whumptober #Umbaran Pathogen AU #clone medic kix #clone medic coric #captain rex #arc trooper fives #clone trooper dogma #clone ocs #clone medic twitch #clone medic pitch #clone medic sponge

[arielstruggles]

EVER SINCE MY BABY WENT AWAY IT'S BEEN THE BLACKEST DAY

CHAPTER 2

Pairing: Javier P x reader

Summary: After spending quite an enjoyable night, things go sideways. Who knows what is gonna happen next :)

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: smut (+18), finger fucking, semi public sex, age gap (no mention of it tho), slight dirty talk, slight edging, third person pov idk what else to add honestly.

A/N: I don't know if anyone reads this tbh but if you are thank you so much for bearing with me. I'm pretty new to this whole fic writing thing so i don't consider my works as good but i'm trying to get better. This took a while to write and it is shorter than i wanted to write but at least i manage to finish it. Anyway hope you enjoy! here is the link of chapter one if anyone is interested.

She wakes up after a couple of hours later. Thinking about the current situation of their relationship. The emptiness of bed greets her, the bed is empty except for her. shame, guilt and anger cripples. But before moving to any conclusion, she decides to check the other rooms out, just in case he was in the kitchen or the living room. Deep down, she knows. She knows that he is just the same, left her and didn’t even say anything. Well, it was just a one night stand i guess, she thinks but can’t help with the suffocating pain. She checks the kitchen, the living room even the bathroom. He’s gone.

Even though it was years ago, they had a passionate relationship. Yet it was not the best relationship out there. It was flawed from the beginning. She checks out her phone, just in case he left any messages. None. How pathetic i am she mutters. How could i be so naive to return to this country after all these years and expected him to be better? Well, why did he come back when he heard that i’m here? It is still dark outside. Tears form at the corner of her eyes but she brushes them away, he does not even worth a single drop of tear. Her thoughts are exact opposite of the prior. Up until that night, she was seeing everything through the lens of love.

Her biggest mistake was that she sugarcoated their memories and assumed Javier was the best boyfriend out there. Yes, she made mistakes as well and the break up was mutual but the reason why they broken up was how much of an asshole Javier was. They had great memories together but problems were overpowering. She missed him so much that created a fucking different persona in her head. When it is in the past, even the most anguishing pain seems as if it was impeccable. She always remembered the times they were laughing, kissing, tangled in bedsheets. But their two years of on and off relationship was more than that. The tears, shoutings…Javier was a caring and loving partner when he wanted to be one. But he was not the best in long term relationships, he was committed yes but it took a while to reach a point for them to build that. Now he was gone, again. The pain is unbearable.

 She feels like someone is ripping her heart apart. She laughs for a second, it feels weird, after ten years, he broke my heart in our first encounter, she thinks. She gets back to her bed and lays down; it is around 5 in the morning. She thought that they’d be spending the weekend together or maybe even get back together. But he does not even wait till the morning. He leaves the second she falls asleep. Tears roll down on her cheeks, she can’t help it and she drifts off.

He is in his hotel room, thinking about what has happened. He missed her so much but they had different expectations from their lives and he was not ready to go through all that shit that they once had. He tries to justify what he just done, left her once again. When they first met, he never wanted to be in a serious relationship and he made that clear. It was not his fault. Was it? He was happy with his relationship with women. He had informants which most of them were hookers that helped him to get information about cartel and give him a good half an hour. He was so used to have one-night stands that he instantly rejected her love. She had the biggest crush on him, it was impossible to resist his charm. They knew their expectations were different, they were different but they somehow worked things out, till they can’t.

She wakes up after her semi successful sleep attempt. A part of her wants to cry her eyes out but she decides to not to do that. He does not even worth it, she thinks. Lazily heads to the bathroom and washes her face and brushes her teeth then walks to her kitchen and starts the coffee machine to make her morning coffee. “You taste like heaven” his voices echoes, she almost drops the mug in her hand. The way he kisses her. “damn it” she mutters, “get it together girl, he left you again.” She pours the coffee on her mug and sits on the kitchen stool, slowly sipping her coffee. She feels the ghost of his hands roaming around her body. “I’m sick. I must be.”

               Days pass, she does not hear a word from Javier after that night. Sadness leaves its place to a boiling anger. She wants to see him again, but not because she misses her or wants him to fuck her, no. She wants to yell, scream at him. A strong slap across his face would soothe her furry. Though she is in denial, her madness comes from love, it is her love buried inside all that anger. She tried her hardest to not to blame him for their break up ten years ago but with the reoccurring incident -well technically they never talked about their future so he didn’t leave him but still- she starts blaming him. If he was considerate enough, he would call her, if he really missed her, he would find a way. But on the other hand, maybe he wanted her to live a better life, he maybe thought she’d be better without him. She shakes her head, if he was so thoughtful of a man, he would wait till morning to talk, he wouldn’t run out the moment she falls asleep. Her thoughts doesn’t give him a single second of peace. She finds a way to justify him but then finds something else to blame him, it is like a never ending cycle

He is not sure what to do at that point. He wants to talk to her to tell her that it was a good night that they had, in memory of their past. But that was it, he is not sure if they can have a relationship after ten years. He is not sure that if he wants to be in a serious relationship, again. It is tiring, to have someone that you have to care for. To think your actions carefully to not to hurt the person. To have someone that cares and loves you. Even though the idea seems thrilling at first, it is not good when you think on a deeper level.  He decides to pop in at her apartment and have a conversation about their situation because he will have to leave soon. He just came to see her when he heard that she was back in Colombia which he regrets now. He gets ready to leave his hotel room and strolls around the streets before finding the courage to knock on her door. It is pretty late but he knows that she does not sleep around this time. After contemplating for a solid ten minutes, he knocks the door.             

   She reads a book, finally getting over what happened four days ago. Not thinking about him, how their tongue danced against each other’s, how he grabbed her by the waist and yanked to the wall, how toxicating his smell was. Nope she does not think about it at all. She hears a knock and opens the door and he is standing right across her. “You must be joking!” she scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Sweetheart, please I came to talk.” “Do not sweetheart to me, you are nobody! You hear me?! We have nothing to talk. It is done, it was done ten years ago but I was foolish enough to believe that we could work things out!” she does not yell but her words are sharp as a blade. Anger mixed with sadness pours from her tongue like poison. “Be calm for a second for god’s sake! I don’t want to end this bad!” he replies sternly. “I don’t want to end this bad” is all she can hear. He came here to end, he does not want to make things work, she thinks. She wants to cry, sob even. They stand on the doorway for a while, she does not invite him in. Then, instead of letting sadness taking control of her, she pushes him from the doorway. “Get the fuck away from my house. You are not welcomed here. And just because you feel guilty due to your mistakes, I won’t forgive you! you fucked up this relationship.”  Surprised with her sudden push, he feels anger boiling insides his veins. “My mistakes? Are you serious? Look it is obvious that you are not ready to have an adult conversation. I should have guessed it that you would put all the blame on me. Once your thick head realizes that we both fucked up, we can have a proper talk.”  She wants to push his buttons, make him furious. All those feelings accumulated in her makes her bold. “You don’t even know how to talk. You are scared shitless of feeling some emotions that the moment you feel something you run away. that’s why you could never manage to have a proper relationship. You just fool yourself into saying that you need a quick fuck with whores, but in reality, you are just a scared kid trapped into a 43 years old man’s body.” She knows, she stepped a boundary. She knows she hit a nerve, it was her intention from the beginning but when she catches the fury in his eyes, she takes a step back, her hand is on the door handle waiting for the close the door if he tries to do something. But in all honesty, she wants him to do something. “don’t try to play that card again, I never wanted to have a relationship. Remember the nights you came to me crying, begging for my love.”  They don’t hold anything back. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I didn’t force you to anything! You fucking needed me. You needed my love. You hear. All that façade, it is nothing but a lie Javi. You are so vulnerable to even confess it. The idea of someone leaving you is eating you alive.”

He grabs her by the neck and yanks her to the door. It does not hurt, on the contrary is turns her on. She slightly grins. “This was all you wanted, from the beginning. Isn’t is, you filthy whore?” “You need me to fuck that hole of yours, hm?”  his tone makes her dizzy. “Yes.” He slightly tightens his grip which makes her squirm. She squeezes her legs shut to help herself a little. Javier catches her sneaky action. A chuckle escapes from his pretty lips. “You’re such a thirsty girl. You want me so bad; you need me. Is it true?” she nods, she is more than eager. At that moment she decides to throw her pride out of the window. He kisses him deeply. It is wet, filthy, noisy. She breaks the kiss. “Javi, please let’s get inside. We are literally in the building hall. Somebody can see us; I live in here!” she hisses. He grins, it’s almost a devilish one. “No, sweetheart. Where is the fun in that? We will do one round in here and maybe you can be a good girl; we can move the fun into your bed, or we can continue in this hallway of yours.” He fakes a pout, while words dripping from his lips like honey. His grip on her neck loosens, he slides down his hand in her panties while licking her neck. She tries to contain her moans by biting her lips, grips him by his broad shoulders tightly to not to fall. She feels his finger playing with her clit. She wants so scream his name. He pumps his fingers inside of her hole. She moans loudly. “can’t hold it, sorry.” She murmurs. He chuckles staring her eyes. Her cheeks are slightly flushed. “Don’t be baby girl. It is music to my ears. But your neighbors might not like it as much as I do.” If somebody would see them in that situation, it would be embarrassing to say the least. She always tried her best to look like a good, respectful neighbor. But getting finger fucked by her ex in the hallway is not exactly a respectful thing. His fingers inside her giving the best of pleasures while she watches his face closely. He looks so pretty, flawless even.

They get lost in each other’s eyes until she grabs him from his hair and pulls him to herself and kisses. While she kisses him, he adds a third finger. She moans with the feeling, it is not uncomfortable, just unexpected. “Javi, I’m close.”  “Hold on baby for a while. You can do it, I know it baby girl.”  He fastens his fingers while cooing her the sweetest words. “No, honey, I can’t please.” “You are such a pretty girl; you are doing so good my love. Hold it a little longer, I know you can do it.” She wants to come; she needs to come but his praises are better than anything in this world that she does anything in her power to hold it a little longer. “Look at you, such a perfect whore for me. aren’t you my pretty whore? So wet and welcoming for me.” she moans again, at this point she knows for sure that somebody heard them. His fingers hit the perfect spot. He is lost in the moment. Her warm, wet cunt is all he asks for. “Javi, please.” tears run down on her cheeks. “shh, don’t cry baby. You know we have a long way to go.” He murmurs. “tell me, who do you belong to my love?” he asks. “what the fuck Javi? I’m not a damn object. I don’t belong to anyone.” “hmm, is that so?” he answers and saves his fingers out of her. She whines. “what happened? Any changes in your thoughts?” He chuckles. She rolls her eyes “you’re so stupid.” She chuckles as well. “You. I belong to you.” “mhmm thought so.” He doesn’t lose a second and sticks his fingers inside of her again, pumping them in and out. His thumb toys with her clit. She kisses his neck, bites here and there which sends a shiver down on his spine. His cock is getting harder with each sound she makes. “I want to cum, please.” She whines. This time he lets her. “Okay baby. You’ve been such a good girl, took my fingers really well. You can cum.”  She comes on his fingers. He cleans her cum by licking his fingers. They hear someone from the upper floors opens their door “Is anyone in there?” the neighbor calls out. They can barely hold their giggles. The neighbor gets back inside their home and close the door shut. She whispers “Can’t believe you fucked me in the hallway.” “don’t worry baby, we’ll continue this inside.” He kisses her and she wraps her arms around his neck. He drags her inside and closes the door shut by his feet.

#javier pena x reader #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #narcos #smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fanfic

[one-silly-cart00nist]

Memory Lane [Velvet & Veneer]

Am I writing for Trolls? I guess so :'D Inspired by THIS fanart

Wordcount: 1.3k past bullying, hurt/comfort, mentions of canonical troll abuse

The cell is small and unceremonious. Cold most of the time. The space is empty, spare for a twin bed and a desk. White walls that could seriously use a wallpaper treatment but the torturing temptation to glamour this place up is probably part of the punishment. 

A guard shows up three times a day to escort them to the cafeteria and the showers. (Those are gross. No use without slippers.)

Overall it’s not that bad. 

Boring and dull. Sure. But honestly that’s a pleasant change from the hustle of fame. No schedules to attend to, no guilt crippling up your spine. 

He’ll miss the yachts, and the stylists, and the modelling gigs… but he’ll survive. 

His sister on the other hand… 

Velvet has fallen quieter ever since their sentence started. Once she finally accepted that making scenes won't get them out. He hated seeing her helpless but Velvet made it clear none of his attempts to play therapist will help. Not even a little “you’ll get wrinkles from frowning that much” nor a little shimmy to the beat of their favourite songs. 

If anything, bringing up music made it worse. 

Which made sense… 

Veneer too wished it wouldn’t have ended this way. He wished it would have ended sooner, the ethical crimes at least. If Velvet listened and they tried practice maybe none of this was necessary. They could have just asked the troll to teach them to sing! 

On a rare night when Veneer felt courageous enough to speak up, he suggested just so. But Velvet burst out laughing like that was the best joke she’s heard all year and rolled her eyes. “Why bother asking if you can just take it?” 

Back then that was all it took. One word from her made Veneer bite his tongue and lower his head. Because she wasn’t that wrong was she—it was nice, all the wealth, all the positive attention. He wasn’t used to the latter. 

Veneer didn’t care about fame as it was, not until he tasted it at least. But who wouldn’t want attention? Who wouldn’t want the world to echo with praises to their name? 

That’s what she promised. 

°

°

°

Suburb house and dentists for parents. Not a pitiful life by any means. It still felt lonely spending half of their lives in school among kids who looked down upon them. At least they have each other. 

And sometimes that meant vibe checks at 1AM on the bathroom floor doing each other’s make up. Veneer’s favourite sibling bonding activity.

This time however the vibes were off. Deep blue. Less vibrant navy. 

Veneer could barely hold back hiccups, still too shaken to let go of the earlier events of that day. They were worse that day. Harsher than usual. Or maybe Veneer was just tired, weakened from the nonstop pushing and pulling, to have let them push him that far into the corner. 

“Are you gonna let him boss you around forever? Haven’t I told him off? Want me to bite harder next time?” 

Veneer shivers at the memory. Velvet’s teeth sunk into that guy’s forearm was terrifying but for wholly different reasons than what’s been going down beforehand. Now that he looks back it’s almost funny. “Geez girl you’ll get yourself expelled if you keep that up…”

“Perfect auditions backstory—kicked out of school, all hopes shattered but the humble dream of a star!” Velvet mused. 

“You’d have to survive mom’s lecturing first though,” Veneer teased her. A scoff is all he got in response, and the room fell quiet again. They’ve gotten quite loud with their conversation. If they don’t want to be caught here and now, they should tone it down. 

(And Veneer really doesn’t want to be seen like this—with eyeshadows and green nail polish. It’s a look for his own delight. For Velvet, when they pretend to be celebrities while they brush their teeth. For himself, to feel pretty.)

“Must I go to school tomorrow?” 

“Unless you want to be the one lectured…” Velvet echoes his own warning. 

“I’ll just get teased again…” 

He reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Velvet stops him, slapping his hand away, waving her own hand as a reminder his polish is still wet. 

“What a drama queen. Like I won’t. Do you see me complaining?”

“Well… yeah. All the time.”

“Gah. Cause they’re just being awful,” she groans and rolls her eyes while her hand flies mindlessly into the air, sprinkling a few drops of nail polish onto the tiles. Mom will kill them if that leaves a stain. Velvet doesn’t notice. “But we’re better than them! We’re better—than anyone. We’ll make them see.” 

She always sounds so sure of herself, so ambitious. It’s something Veneer has a hard time pretending. He’s grateful to have a sister like her. Someone to help him stand up on his feet and push him forward. Even if he doesn’t always see or like where they’re headed. 

Everything is okay with Velvet there. She’s always there for him.

When the kids at school make fun of his love for dancing, Velvet’s there. Words sharp like razors but pointed away from him. 

When he comes home crying. And shuts himself in the bathroom because they still share a room even at fourteen and he doesn’t want a confrontation. There isn’t a no confrontation option when your sister is Velvet, though.

She’s here. 

On the cold tiled floor of their bathroom, in the nook furthest away from the door where she’d lured him out from underneath the sink. She’s not even complaining about interrupted beauty sleep. 

She grabs his chin with the hand that’s holding the brush, turning his head. Her eyes are intense for a moment, distant like she’s not even looking at him. And then she softens, leans back. Pats his cheeks for good measures before she returns to the task at hand. “Wrinkles. You don’t want them, Ven.”

°

°

°

The world would see them and like them for a change. 

Veneer had to promise some things too: to stop crying at every mishap, to follow Velvet’s lead and never turn back. A compromise. 

First of many. Some more fair than the others. 

Guess there was a gradual change in attitude on her side throughout the years. Veneer wishes he would have noticed sooner. That he would have had it in himself to resist. But the truth is—he owes that part to someone else. 

They never asked for his name but Veneer thinks he caught it among all the chaos of that fateful Rage Dome performance. A troll named Floyd. Whom they have kidnapped, exploited, abused, and almost killed… Not proud of that one. 

Yet that little soft guy still spoke to Veneer’s heart in a moment of panic and desperation. Echoed words that were already there locked in the closet with everything else Veneer wasn’t ready to think about. Seeded a spark of hope. Not quite confidence, but close to it. 

How did a little guy like him see through Velvet better than her own brother…? 

Well he did spend months with them in the diamond prison. Must have heard enough. And he hadn’t known her at her best like Veneer did, so memories didn’t cloud his vision either. 

Who knows—maybe he had a sibling like her too and knew exactly what was going on. 

None of that matters anymore though. He did what he did. 

Veneer wonders if he’d have shared more wisdom, would they have had time. Would he have listened to him sooner. He almost regrets letting him free, but the keyword is almost. He looked so much happier hopping with his little friends than he was clawing at the perfume bottle walls. 

Too bad they got arrested right afterwards and Veneer hadn’t even had a proper chance to thank him. 

He hopes to meet him someday again. 

In better circumstances, but hopefully soon. 

#velvet and veneer #velvet trolls #veneer trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fanfic #he's my child </3

[cosmicjoke]

Ah, this is really interesting for “Vinland Saga”, as we’re again starting to see the parallels drawn between Thorfinn and Canute, with each of them seeming to have intersecting problems with disease.  I really do like how the story is presenting both sides of the argument here, and not particularly insisting that one is correct over the other.  Thorfinn’s pacifism seems like it’s going to be met with a massive challenge, while at the same time, he’s digging his heels in on his beliefs harder than ever, with him refusing to accept what Einar is saying about understanding things from Canute’s perspective of killing the few to save the many, or accepting that Hild’s violence is a “righteous” kind.  Thorfinn’s views on violence are so interesting, because of course no one’s life has been more ruined by violence than his.  He was exposed to it in brutal fashion from the time he was six years old, and becoming more and more immersed in it as he grew, it stripped him of everything.  Any kind of purpose beyond the desire for revenge, any kind of human connection (he had no friends and no family anymore to care for him, having literally to fend for himself or die, surrounded by people who did nothing but use him and wouldn’t have cared one way or another if he died), and living that life for over ten years left him with intense trauma and crippling guilt.  So it makes perfect sense why he’s so against violence of any kind, why he says things like “Relying on violence makes me ashamed of my own immaturity.”.  Thorfinn is dealing with an understandable bias against violence as a solution to anything. 

Seeing as Canute is dealing with disease over in Europe, and being forced to kill people in order to prevent its spread, he articulates aloud what I’m guessing the next several chapters are going to focus on, which is how Thorfinn is going to handle the same situation.  Disease is the ultimate indifferent killer.  It’s beyond negotiation or threat or cajoling.  So I really am interested in how Thorfinn is going to deal with this.  While Canute is king of Denmark and England, Thorfinn is the leader of his band of people he brought with him to Vinland, and just like it’s Canute’s responsibility to protect his people, for Thorfinn it’s the same.  This story will really become interesting if Thorfinn is presented with a problem which won’t allow him to hold on to his ideals without compromise.  How far is Thorfinn willing to take his ideals?  Is he willing to let many people die for his refusal to take a single life?  I know Thorfinn wouldn’t be alright with that, but he also wouldn’t be alright with killing, so he’s really between a rock and a hard place here.  This is the kind of complexity I like to see in this series, where there are no easy, or even right solutions or paths.  There’s only what you believe to be the best solution, following your heart.  The story isn’t framing Canute as wrong, really, but rather acknowledging that a true Utopia isn’t really possible.  It’s good to have ideals, but ugly reality will often intrude upon those ideals, and all of us will be forced into a position sooner or later of either stubbornly holding on to those ideals, sometimes at a great cost, or compromising on them to achieve a greater good.

Thorfinn is getting a lot of push-back on his beliefs from the people closest to him, and I think things are going to be more difficult for him moving forward now than ever before.

I’m also worried about this old guy they brought back with them from Markland.  If he survived an outbreak of disease there, then it stands to reason that he’ll have brought the disease with him, and it’s going to infect the settlement in Vinland.  And of course, if it spreads to the Lnu, it’s going to wipe them out completely, probably, given they’ll likely have zero immunity to it.

I also wonder if the ship that landed in Europe came from Vinland? 

As always, a stellar chapter of an incredible manga.  The art blows me away.  I don’t know how Yukimura puts out monthly chapters. 

#Vinland Saga #chapter 202 #Thorfinn

[spaciebabie]

mfw she'll never be able to get over the crippling guilt that eats at her day by day years after the event even though it wasn't her fault and she was helpless in the situation but she still blames herself b/c she should've done something, or she shouldn't have done that, if she made different decisions would things be the way they are now? would she hafta suffer like this day in and day out?:

"SPACIE SPACIE WHICH OC IS THIS???" AHAHA IT COULD BE ANY OF THEM!!!!! AHAHA!!!!! WHICH ONE AM I TALKING ABT HUH??? WHY DONT YOU TELL ME???? EHEHEHE OHH YOU WANNA KNOW SO BAAAAD

#its not who ya think it is that's for sure! #or is is? #spacie spoinks #me art #shitpost #oc stuff #oc: ANY OF THEM LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL #i think the most fun i'll have w/two is using it ta troll n fuck w/ppl #like im doing now!! :D #spacie scribbles

[unicornofgt]

alright, i have come to the decision i am keeping this blog up as an archive and leaving the gt tumblr community for the foreseeable future.

when i made my post about chamomile-g-tea’s damaging treatment of my story, gtms, my goal was to acknowledge the situation so i could hopefully move forward and restore gtms/my blog as mine again, without her influence. and while i anticipated backlash, some of the responses were just...downright disturbing. lots of comments echoed a victim-blaming sentiment that i am responsible for the emotional and creative damage done to me by another person because ‘why didn’t you just say no or tell her to stop?’ not only does this ignore the several attempts i did make to express discomfort and set boundaries—which were not respected—but even if i didn’t manage to express a ‘no’, that doesn’t make what happened ok; it doesn’t erase the year of crippling pressure and guilt i lived with and still struggle to shake daily. realizing that so many people in this community think otherwise is just...disturbing. it’s disturbing. that’s the only word i can think to use.

the response to all this does not make me feel safe being here—that’s what this situation has unfortunately showed me: that the audience i hoped to allow to view my reclaiming process would also contain the same crowd who make me feel so unsafe—and why the fuck would i let those people see something as personal as that? why would i let them see anything? it’s made me understand i can’t continue to heal myself and my writing if i am posting it for other people, especially harmful people. and even though it turned out this way, i’m glad i gave it a shot; that i made that post as an effort to see if it was even possible or worth it to restore this space—even if the answer was no! absolutely fucking not!—because it saved me from even more time spent sharing my work with people who do not respect me as a person or a creator. i’m glad i tried, however much it sucked, because it allowed me to understand: it is not just one person in this community i feel unsafe with, but a solid percentage of the community at large that i just cannot healthily engage with, and no amount of blocking will fix that.

but of course this is not the only situation that showed me this community’s true colors—the dismissive or outright aggressive response to the calling out of racism in our tropes has also been deeply disturbing. to clarify, there is no problem in identifying with and finding comfort or catharsis in problematic tropes such as the pet trope, but there is a problem with using that comfort to make others feel unsafe and speak over people of color. and the solution to this trope problem is very simple—generally apply critical thinking skills to the media you enjoy, and tag your shit properly (dead dove, particularly when the giant owner/abuser doesn’t face consequences and/or if the abused/abuser fall in ‘love’—dead dove is not actually currently used in this community, that’s the problem). but rather than taking this as an opportunity to listen and improve, it was instead used as a chance to lash out at and make clear that poc are not welcome in this community and come secondary to the feelings of white creators and readers.

over the last few years, this community has fostered and been exposed for bigotry such as terfs, ableists, racists, etc, and especially in the current political era, this is no longer a community i want to share my work with or even just lurk in. and i know on the surface this community seems progressive, but take a better look and you’ll find members of the community doing and saying…questionable things, or keeping quiet and enabling their friends who do and say questionable things because they would rather be passive and polite than be genuinely kind and compassionate through active accountability.

of course this is the risk you take interacting with any person ever—but it’s especially taxing to look around at such a small, close knit community you know is riddled with these problems and wonder if the people making innocent posts are actually harmful; if they prioritize their comfort over the safety of marginalized people, if they even see you as a full person, and for me, personally—if they are willing to overlook consent to blame you for your trauma and defend the person who inflicted it. it’s taxing to explain basic basic concepts to strangers over and over in a place that prides itself on being a safe space, where people just have fun and mentally escape from irl hardships. it’s taxing to ride out shitty, hateful treatment when you are just simply one person (voluntarily providing free services btw) with only so much energy and fucks to give. it is not worth the strain it puts on you as a person, nor is it your responsibility to sit there and accept it, and i am not the only creator in this community who feels this way. we are fucking tired.

quite simply, this is not a community i feel comfortable participating in or sharing anything with. and that’s a shame, because there are wonderful, creative and caring people here who i have enjoyed sharing this space with, and maybe someday i’ll give this community another chance, but currently it’s just not worth the time of day. and i want to make it clear: my leaving is not simply because of just one person or just one situation—that i could handle—it is the community itself that is the root problem; that continues to be harmful, in multiple contexts—that is the reason why i and several other creators are leaving for greener pastures and more enjoyable communities—or just simply for a fucking moment’s worth of peace, because lord knows you won’t find it here.

#i considered making this post just ‘yea i feel unsafe here i’m leaving’ #but i did want to post a clear explanation for mutuals still here n the ppl who come across my blog in the future #instead of leaving it to speculation and guess work #so i wrote a fucking essay lmao #but there are more personal details i didn’t go into bc they’re distressing and some of y’all are straight awful<3 #however i will say you are not inside anyone else’s head if they say they feel unsafe it is not for you to question that #anyways privileges to myself and my writing are officially revoked #when i’m ready to share writing it’ll be with close friends in private #and maybe eventually on another site like ao3 but if that happens it won’t be for a while #and if i do post gtms there it will prolly be v different from the version here bc it’ll be the restored and improved version #i hate the version on this site<3 #for now i just need to get back into the swing of things bc rn it is. so hard to Think at all #i’ll also be doing things on my fandom account i am just leaving this community bc good lord #if you told me a month ago i’d be leaving this community i’d have been devastated but now? #having seen sm of this community’s true colors one after another? #i don’t give a fuck now #the only thing i feel is relief #the community i thought i was apart of does not exist and it made me physically sick to realize and experience that reality #for all its problems i did not think so MUCH of the gt community was this vile #i’ve run this blog for years and closing this chapter just brings me closure and peace #and to those of y’all who are alright n still here: good fucken luck lmfao wish y’all the best dealing w this shitshow #gt community #giant/tiny #gt #g/t #sfw g/t #gtms #gt mech suits

[gwenbrightly]

Vanny Quest Chapter 2

Vanessa jolts awake to the all too familiar sensation of the room spinning and her ears ringing. She clutches her head as she begins to sit up, trying to prevent the headache she knows is going to hit her like a sledgehammer in the next few seconds. Her vision blurs and she almost passes out again as the pain takes hold. She barely manages to crawl to a garbage bin before throwing up what feels like everything she’s eaten in the past three days. She collapses back onto the floor and tries not to move. Why is it so much worse this time? It’s always been a little hard to function after… well. That. But not to the point that she can’t see straight. Never to the point that it feels like she’s been disemboweled, then stitched back together. (At least, not since the first time.)

Vanessa stares at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. How did she get up to the abandoned security office for Fazerblast? The last thing she remembers is coming to in the sewers after her alter ego chased that lost kid - George? Geoffrey? No, Gregory (that might have been his name) - down there. And then making her way back up to the atrium. The rest is all a hazy jumbled mess of memories. There’s no telling how long she’s been out. Or what might have happened while she was.

Vanessa is used to waking up in weird places. Thanks to this possession, this curse, or whatever the heck is wrong with her, it happens all the time. Usually her uniform is stained with substances she’d rather not think about too deeply. The missing person reports often follow. But not always. Sometimes there’s no one looking. She’s not sure which is worse. The hands that don’t stop shaking for days, nausea, and crippling guilt are pretty much the same either way.

She blinks. Did she come up here to plan another hunt tonight? Oh god. Vanessa sits up. What if she already went out again and she just doesn’t remember it? What if she killed that kid?

Panicking, Vanessa looks down at her hands. Clean. And her uniform. No blood this time, but that doesn’t mean anything. She knows better than to hope. She groans as a fresh wave of pain ripples through her. If she really did kill Gregory tonight… she deserves it. Vanessa has tried to quit her job time and time again, but somehow the letter of resignation never gets turned in. Over and over, she returns to the Pizzaplex and more people get hurt because of her.

Vanessa shakily pulls herself to a stand, leaning on the desk for support and glances around the room. It’s even more trashed than usual (Vanny is not a cleanly individual in the slightest). Almost like there’s been a fight of some sort, which is altogether possible. The purple computer chair Vanny stole from somewhere lies on its side in a corner. The blanket from the bed is now crumpled on the floor and she doesn’t see the pillow anywhere. But by far the most surprising thing she notices is that the Princess Quest III arcade machine’s screen is now lit up with a bright red “ERROR” message. Okay. Well, that proves it, then. Someone else has been here. Vanessa doesn’t remember playing the game and there’s no way Vanny would do something that would endanger her master’s plans.

For the first time in a long time, she’s beginning to feel hopeful. This changes everything! Vanessa might finally be free! She has to get out of here. She has to know for sure.

Crossing to the door, a little more quickly than her body is truly ready for (whee, more nausea), Vanessa is surprised to discover that it’s somehow been locked from the outside. Try as she might, the handle won’t budge. She can’t say wouldn’t have done the same; someone probably should have locked her up years ago. That said, the timing couldn’t be any more inconvenient. She peers through the window to see if maybe someone is still nearby. And stares at the scene unfolding as on the other side of the glass.

////

“Geez, Freddy,” Gregory says in frustration, “can’t you sit still for five seconds?”

“I am sorry, Superstar. Vanny must have nicked some of my internal wiring,” Freddy tells him regretfully.

Gregory glares at the knife currently sticking out of his friend’s back. Freddy has already attempted to remove it himself, to no avail, which is why he is currently sitting on the floor so his height is not a barrier to Gregory’s assistance.

“That sure sucks,” Gregory mutters.

“It does, but I do not think Vanny will be bothering us anymore.”

“She’d better not. I’m sick of her,”

Freddy twitches again and Gregory cringes.

“We really gotta get that thing out of you before it causes permanent damage,” Gregory comments, giving the knife another tug. It doesn’t budge.

“Perhaps if you shift your position so one of your feet is planted on my back, you will have better leverage,” Freddy suggests. It would be rather helpful if they could remove the knife before moving on.

“O-okay,” Gregory agrees, wondering how on earth Freddy can be so calm about having been stabbed by a homicidal maniac less than fifteen minutes ago. He is still freaking out majorly about the whole thing. Vanny came so close to- No. Let’s not think about that right now. (Or ever). He follows Freddy’s suggestion. With one foot on the floor and one foot on the animatronic’s back, Gregory gingerly gives the knife a tug. It loosens just a teeny bit. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and tugs again, harder.

“One more time,” Freddy encourages.

In hindsight, Gregory may have pulled a little too hard this time. The knife pulls free from Freddy’s casing and Gregory cartwheels backwards, not expecting it to come out so easily. He lands a few feet away from Vanny’s hideout with an ‘oof’. When he goes to right himself, he notices her watching him. Darn. He’d been hoping she would stay knocked out longer than that!

“Gregory! You-You’re not dead!” She calls through the window sounding way happier than she should.

“No thanks to you, backstabber.” Gregory retorts, giving her his fiercest glare. He’s pretty proud of himself for the comeback.

“Yeahhh… um. Sorry about that?” She says awkwardly, and she must be a good actress, because for a moment, Gregory almost believes that she really does feel bad about what she’s done to him and Freddy.

“Gregory! Are you okay?” Freddy asks, having sufficiently recovered.

“I am,” Gregory replies, “but I wish she wasn’t!”

“Vanny.” Freddy places a paw on Gregory’s shoulder protectively. And gives the woman a dirty look of his own.

“I can’t imagine what I’ve put you through. I’m so, so sorry,” Vanny begins.

Gregory rolls his eyes, not interested in hearing some made up sob story. There are about a million things he’d rather be doing.

“I didn’t want to hurt you - that wasn’t me. I mean, it was me. But it wasn’t! I wasn’t in control… She was! Ugh. This is all so confusing,” Vanny continues, pacing back and forth in front of the window and gesturing wildly.

“Vanny… Officer Vanessa… What are you talking about? Who was in control if you were not?” Freddy asks, curiosity piqued. It’s a dangerous question, he knows, but he can’t help himself. The others have been acting strangely all night and he is quite worried about them even without the damage caused by their various… accidents. Could what Vanessa is telling them be connected?

Vanessa stops pacing. “It started back when I started as a beta tester for the VR game Fazbear entertainment was working on awhile back… somehow the data they scanned in to use as a base was carrying something… Evil. After playing the game for a few days, I started hearing this voice in my head, and I know it sounds crazy, but it started forcing me to do stuff I wouldn’t normally do. Small things at first, then bigger things. I even started having memory problems after awhile. Eventually, the voice introduced itself as Glitchtrap. He claimed to be a digital version of William Afton.”

“Wait. That name sounds familiar,” Freddy muses, trying to remember where he’s heard it before.

“I’m not surprised. Corporate tries to keep it under wraps, but William Afton was one of the original founders of the company. He was also a suspect in the disappearance and murder of quite a few children back in the day, but they never caught him,”

“So, what exactly are you saying? That you’ve been possessed by William Afton’s serial killing ghost?” Gregory asks. The thought is wrong on so many levels… and yet… there’s definitely something deeper going on. He’s seen weird stuff happening in practically every corner of this place. Vanessa (he’ll accept for now that maybe Vanny and Vanessa are different entities) seems to be telling the truth, and he’s usually a pretty good judge of character. He has to be. Otherwise he’d probably be in juvie by now.

“I don’t know, to be honest. But something, a ghost, a virus, got inside my head and took over. Something that made me become Vanny. Something that wanted to follow in Afton’s footsteps or raise him from the dead, maybe? It’s hard to remember everything he told me…”

“That is… worrying,” Freddy says with a frown. This could be much more serious than he thought. “Do you think that the others have been infected with this Glitchtrap virus as well?”

“Definitely. And I’d be willing to bet that they have been for quite awhile,” Vanessa replies, “they’ve all developed some unhealthy habits that weren’t originally part of their programming.”

“Like Chica and her obsession with Monty Mix,” Gregory finishes for her. A robot being so obsessed with food has always felt weird to him.

“Yeah. Stuff like that keeps everyone distracted. They’re so focused on fixing Chica’s eating habits or Monty’s sudden anger issues that they don’t notice the other things that are happening.”

Like kids going missing. No one is brave enough to say that out loud, though.

“It is a relief to know that they have not been consciously trying to kill you, Gregory,” Freddy says, turning to his small charge.

“Yeah…” Gregory tries to smile at him, but he’s suddenly feeling more than a little guilty for going so hard on the other animatronics. Yes, in their current state they kinda deserved it. And yes, he did (most of) it to protect himself. But… What if they were all kind and warm and loyal like Freddy once upon a time? No one has ever cared like Freddy before. And Gregory just trashed all his friends without a second thought.

“I think we’re all free of the virus, at least for now,” Vanessa is saying.

“What do you mean?” Gregory asks her. It would be nice if they didn’t have to worry about being chased around the Pizzaplex anymore.

“There’s something about the Princess Quest games that’s special. She-Vanny kept moving them to different places every time I found one, so I never really had a chance to experiment with them, but I’ve felt different since you played the one in here,” she explains.

“Now that you mention it,” Gregory says thoughtfully, “I thought I saw a weird wave of golden light coming out of the machine when I beat the game.”

“Does that mean we are safe? I do not want any other children to experience what Gregory has tonight.” Freddy comments. He is proud of his Superstar’s bravery and resourcefulness, but that does not justify what Gregory has been through.

Vanessa stares at them through the window sadly for a moment before answering.

“I wish I could say yes, but I don’t think this is over. Vanny and Glitchtrap have been working on something down in the sinkhole. I don’t think any of us will be truly safe until we find out what it is… and destroy it.”

#myfics #fnaf fanfiction #five nights at freddy's #five nights at Freddy’s fanfiction #five nights at Freddy’s security breach #fnaf security breach #fnaf vanessa #fnaf gregory #freddy fazbear #fnaf vanny #Vanny with a knife

[madfantasy]

Dear blogging

So happy I finished one of my biggies, happeir it made other's day (or just hurt their feels, I'm sorry I know im depressing heh 8"c

Hugs to dears💛

I've been doing nothing but strictly drawing lately, thanks to the wave of bugs that is paralysing my normal focus and gives me constant nightmares that jolts me awake every time I'm desperately fallen asleep. They are not as intense anymore, thankfully, but my paranoia wouldn't let out.

On the bright side, I am drawing more than ever and those sticky notes taken down at last after a century of em up 8D ✨️✨️✨️

(Just wanted to show a sense of their volume at the beginning, these are just the ones who perished and I thought I came out to piles of dirt, at first x'c)

In the pauses between the signing muse in my brain, in complete immersion, i don't remember what got me to guardians discussing something, and it came about the subject of mental health and trauma. Some way or another, I managed to tell one of my truths, which is that I am fairly certain that I am on the spectrum. Of course, it started with the usual denial and unreasonable yelling. Yelling that automatically shuts me down, but I yelled back even though my voice wasn't helping. It keeps disappearing alongside the ability to find words as I try to explain it all. Finally, I felt it dawned on them, and only when they said they 'now know it is to find help with', I broke down. They were comforting me by keep saying we'll fix it. I wanted to say it's not something broken to be fixed, but I was deep in hyperventilation to be able to articulate it..

It has been a few weeks since then, and I didn't want to bring it up because my chest was hurting me too long after the ordeal.

In a way, I don't know why i bothered to tell them because realistically, they can't do anything. As everything dear or near to me, I can't tell them causally, and it never had real bearing on anything. They need tending cause they are ill and elderly, and i do my best until it comes to dealing with people, I become just as crippled and can't function without them. I never show them my art, or tell em i want surgery for my dysphoria or I'm none of society's conditioning of identities or whatever they are willfully ignorant in. But I make points to remind them that im not a mere gender and I still correct them when they wrong name me, my simplest wishes they can't comply with. Even by the religionlNthey uphold, not to call women a degrading word in arabic that means that she is a forbidden object, they kept using it it but not around me... I don't know why i try, but they are my world, my only world, and the only humans i know and depend on. I'm not able to do anything now but draw, everything else i tried to do i either have forgotten or have no further means to do more, I might as well have forgotten how to speak English if it wasn't in everything I communicate with, consume and own set to it, and every now nd then write these so called diaries, ive already forgotten how to write my precious poems in arabic, or write in arabic as swiftly as i used to. I wake up most days with complete apathy or regret that I'm still living and costing to take space in this world.. my guardian asked me, who in support or women driving and having independent lives, if I could right now a chance learn to drive, will I do it. I said no. Even tho for years I knew with upmost certainty that I could do it, I always wanted to do it and have endless dreams of me driving, I always studied the booklets with our car to learn the road signs and all. But now I can't. Things I did by force of necessity on my own, I can't do anymore. I know I'm not the good elder sibling either cause I'm not always there to argue for my siblings, and it adds more and more to the guilt I can't clear, but I try buy them toys or a meal every chance I get commissioned.

I don't know what can be set in motion, at least I know I can hold on till 36, and while still having my drawing list to go through. Even with the same old interests, or hyperfixations should i say, things I can't change and seemingly have no gain posting around, especially when it comes to fanart. Otherwise, will be doodling fantasy junk such as these on me own

I wish all of you the best 🍀

Crying with makeup on and then laughing cuz I forgot I tried to do art on my face and now we can add 'crying in makeup' to our first time experiences lo' 10 pm, 6.6.2023

#text #drawing journey #personal

[mirrorofliterature]

What if the entire Weasley family blamed Percy for Fred's death?

I find it difficult to imagine a plausible situation where this would occur, which is why it's taken me egregiously long to respond.

If they did... well. I am not really one for tragedy porn, or angst for the sheer sake of it, and I personally find a Percy who hates himself unrealistic. Maybe it's because I give him a support system outside his family... but Percy, whilst having strong survivor's guilt, in this case reinforced by his family's rejection, but that's nothing new, anyway, does not strike me as actively suicidal. I think he is someone who would repress his emotions and throw himself into work - as we, indeed, see throughout OOTP-DH.

'If my family won't talk to me,' Percy thinks, 'might as well work on Christmas'.

In short, I think this would exacerbate Percy's survivor guilt and make him even more emotionally constipated and throw himself into work to ignore the gnawing guilt, prolonging his recovery process, and it's definitely unhealthy, but he has the support system of his friends. It may take longer than it would otherwise, it may break something in Percy permanently to be blamed for something horrendous, but over time, he can heal, whereas his family will not be able to, stuck in misguided bitter hatred. And they, not Percy, will be the ones ultimately worst off.

I hope that answers your question! Personally, I haven't seen a version of this that I've particularly liked, as the other Weasleys are often widely OOC - although Red Door has a pretty good similarish plot line - and a suicidal Percy, to me, is unrealistic. Not all shit mental health manifests in suicidal ideation, and I dislike how suicide has become a cheap shorthand for crippling mental health, because it's not true.

Anyway: with the help of his friends, Percy would eventually recover. It's the Weasley's loss.

#hp #percy weasley #rambles #q&a #tw suicide mention #weasley family critical

[bocababe]

Is it better to have loved and lost than have never loved at all? Let’s discuss.

Disclaimer - I have nothing to lose as I am speaking from the heart. My intention is to live my truth. I am telling it like it is without fear and judgment in hopes that my writing sheds light on life circumstances that we all face as some point.

Here we go...

First and foremost, heartbreak sucks. Getting emotionally hurt is painful. Feeling sadness and remorse can be downright crippling. If you don’t drown your sorrows with a bottle of champaign, binge watching crime documentaries, and having crying episodes throughout the day then you are superhuman or have completely lost the ability to feel (God bless). Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but probably not healthy as we are supposed to feel all the things - good and bad. Also, losing someone that you had a strong mental and physical connection with can be damaging which changes who you are if you allow it.

There’s a good reason why more and more people are not getting into full blown relationships these days and having meaningless hook ups instead. It’s so they don’t catch “FEELINGS”. Catching feelings can lead to obsession, toxic behaviors, confusion, and relationship sabotage (just to name a few negative side effects that I don’t know too much about). I think at this point, throughout my past experiences, I have come to realize that chances are, someone will get hurt when you fall in love. It’s inevitable, hence why I am still single at the age of 39… HOW FUN!

So, is keeping things casual the safe bet so that you don’t get hurt?

Sure, some of us do play it safe - knowing that everything is temporary and to not invest the time and effort to strengthen a potential life-long twin-flame experience because it doesn’t exist. OOOF, savage. Jumping from one “fun” pit stop along our journey to the next until we decide we can’t journey anymore. But is that really the play? To save yourself from feeling pain at the cost of giving yourself an immense feeling of joy, happiness, and pleasure?

Hmmm, makes me think (maybe I should stop doing that) …

How emotionally strong are those people that they can find someone they like, spend copious amount of time with them, but not get attached and just live in the moment? Talk about a powerful skill that I do not possess (womp womp). I mean, yeah, there have been times I met someone, had “fun”, and never wanted to see them again (bad vibes). Never was there a moment where I had an ongoing hookup with someone I really liked without getting into a relationship with them at some point. There was no “roster”, although the thought of that does sound cool but my mental and emotional capacity only limits me to have one love interest at a time (really living to the fullest here). Most of the time it’s head over heals followed by a catastrophic bomb leading to a quiet somber aftermath of guilt, shame, and devastation which I must say, is always caused by me.

As Taylor Swift recently sang…

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me”.

Now, if I am the problem, I am also my own solution. Yeah… I’ve identified that, thank you.

I have acknowledged that I have a fight or flight response and have difficulty communicating my emotions in a an effective (positive) way. That’s why all of my interactions with various chosen male characters continue to go in circles just with evolved patterns and cycles that lead to nowhere. OY VEY, all this internal work is exhausting, and I feel like I’m getting further away from the light. Beem me up Jesus, I’m waiving the white flag and ready to depart all the suffering that I continue to bestow upon thyself.

Anyway, enough of that and back to the question at hand…

Is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

YES - it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

True love is rare and having a deep emotional as well as physical connection with someone is a gift and RARE these days. Feeling secure, safe, comfortably vulnerable, and unapologetically yourself with someone is freeing. Enjoy it when you have it. And when you find it, don’t play it safe, go all in! Do your best to hold on to it as long as you can as it doesn’t happen often. Feel all the joy, happiness, and pleasure that comes with love and be prepared to lose it at any given moment.

Remember, nothing is permanent, and everything is temporary.

XOXO

Mariana

#real life #life lessons #life #love #breakup #dating #relationships #women #single #positive #honesty #taylor swift #experience #journey #memories #thought