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limelocked · 4 years

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Sundial blurbs

So most of my part of the Sundial au has been locked into general au chat on our server in the form of joking, theorising and sometimes writing as much as the discord character limit allows me to. I did the two first blurbs in this post today and @pomodoko commanded i actually post it and tag them so here they are, sorted into story chronological order and not the order in which i wrote them

Also this is the link to the document with general information on the AU

--- Dreams POV, the inciting incident

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8- NINE It has been ten seconds since Fundy landed at the bottom of the stairs at the lowest level of the building, there had been a noticeable thud that sounded distinctly unpleasant but Dream hadn't picked up on any cracking noise that'd indicate broken bones. Not that it'd be easy to hear over the commotion that led to later events.

Because it'd been seven seconds since Techno had lost his balance because of the falling fox mentioned and seven seconds since he stood back straight, almost brushing against Wilburs taller frame. It had only been five short seconds, that might have felt like weeks to others, since Wilbur in turn furrowed his brow and geared up for retaliation. Four seconds ago techno had been pushed. Three, Wilbur had gone into the wrong portal. Two, Philza had with Fundy still leaning on his shoulder tried to stop them both. One, they were gone.

It was surreal. The room had been filled with chatter before the fight, louder during the fight and now it was quiet. One second in the future, after it had all happened, the silence broke by no one who had seen it happen but by Tommy, babbling on about something with Fundy that didn't matter to anyone but himself. He quieted down when the person he was intending to talk to was nowhere to be found, confused. "Where'd Fundy go?"

"He and Wilbur already went through" the lack of effort it took for Dream to bend that truth would be concerning if not for his record, and technically they already had. "Oh-" an unsatisfactory answer but not one that would send him towards the throat of Noxite. "You can just talk to them back home. Come on." The portal after the hermits was supposed to be theirs, something quickly confirmed as they enter the community house with a crisis averted, or rather pushed back until a later date, and two people lost to another server.

--- Omniscient/Unknown POV, the dreamsmp aftermath

un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf... sept, huit, neuf... sept, huit... Seven hours later was when the lie couldn't hold anymore. Tommy already didn't trust Dream much but Tubbo had been a help in convincing him that Wilbur and Fundy were just away building or something. But the truth comes eventually. He sent a clear message of; <TommyInnIt> stop lying to me

Hour eight was the worst, accusations being thrown and swords being drawn. Screaming and explanations that never really felt enough. The ninth hour was bad in another way, depressing. Tommy's anger had simmered into bargaining as if Dream, George or Tubbo had the power to do anything of substance. It never got to begging, Tommy's pride forbade that but the things he put on the line for help that he couldn't get made it almost seem like it.

Noxcrew was contacted and they confirmed that the hemits had talked to them about the guests. Solutions were suggested and just as quickly rebuffed. Hour ten was a loss and the eleventh hour was one where Tommy and Tubbo got to speak alone.

"Can't you just use your powers or whatever to make the portals take us to hermitcraft" he was exhausted. "It doesn't work like that, probably, and Noxite has probably already tried it" "Yeah but Tubbo could you do it?" "I mean... maybe?" To that something glinted in Tommys eye, hope that Tubbo didn't want to extinguish as fast as it needed to be. "But I'm not allowed into the MCC world anyways so it wouldn't work" "FUCKING CHRIST TUBBO everyone here's useless!"

--- Technos POV, first night on hermitcraft

It's the first night and bones tower above him.

There were other buildings around, and the area was lit up well but eyes followed him from the darkness, eying the stone tools he'd manage to scrape up while leaving the group now probably settled in a warm house far away. This world scared him, the monsters and the way his sword hit differently, and the fact that the air itself felt new.

A pair of eyes glowed at him from it's place under one of the ribs of a beast too huge to want to think about. Techno readied his sword, but the dog decided that it'd rather go back to sleep. This world scared him and he just knew he'd gotten lost now because his goal had been to retrace his steps, the path that Xisuma and Bdoubleo had shown them to the little village far away by boat, to find the house cleft in two and then head straight out to sea until he could find a better place to stay than the tension thick cabin that their hosts had suggested.

Another dog offered a quiet bark in his direction and with an embarrassed sssh, covering fright, he continued forward. He had found the water, true, and he remembered something vague about a neighbour... but... No. No he decided that he'd choose a direction and if there weren't any light he'd just have to turn around or dock and make a little cave to live out of. It wouldn't be glorious but neither is 5 million potatoes.

A boat is placed into the water at the straight of Joebralta and a pig starts to row.

Clang. He is confused. The boat shakes in the middle of open water, he's been turned around. Clang. A trident, something he's only really seen in Skyblockle, shoots into the air a meter to the right of his boat. He speeds up. Clang. It misses, but he has decided that the sea is no longer safe.

--- Technos and Ethos POV, the first days in hermitcraft

He's starting to feel bad for leaving. Still justified, but also bad. He felt horrible the instant the championship room disappeared from right in front of his eyes with Wilbur still in it, and still worse when Wilbur then Phil and Fundy appeared next to him in this world, all statues as unseen confused messages fill the communicators of the worlds inhabitants.

When they arrived he was surprised that a lot of the hermits knew about them, or at least him, from the returning cast of hermits that played in MCC and their apparent tendency to tell stories as soon as there was space for it. It'd made it less awkward but the looks from the others stopped him from talking much about his side of the tournaments.

This was perhaps night four? He had stepped ashore in a jungle a bit from an area he could almost feel at home in with its skyscrapers reminiscent of some survival games arenas. But it was built by someone and someone should be avoided so he had trudged through plains and deserts walking around it only to find more tall buildings in another jungle.

The jungle was... safe? Safe from people at least, less so mobs. He had a little cave with a bed now that kept the hot and humid air out most of the time and while small and cramped and utterly horrible it felt far safer than returning to the others... even though he could practically hear Phils calm and nonchalant reassurances.

Leaving the small home he searches for the water he remembers spotting nearby. The bright orange tracksuit wasn't something he wanted to wear but there wasn't much of anything else and it still needed to be washed of stone dust and sweat no matter how much he disliked it. He leaves with a compass and map to find his way back, and around other peoples territory. And water is found easily with these. Stone, coal and redstone is scrubbed away in the freshwater lake that's only relatively cold, but it still feels nice, like the wind on his island in skyblock or in the skywars arenas.

Not too far away a man is working in a terrarium of his own design containing no animals but currents in thin snakes coiling around comparators and observers. The change to the nether has been an exciting one but it did come with problems for the technicians and thankfully for this one the Google hasn't broken too far beyond belief and is back in functioning order faster than expected.

Satisfied he looks at the path that he paradoxically want to end and to continue and decides to wait, flying up to sit near his portal instead to think about it and access the expansions he's already made. Something bright orange is spotted in the distance which at first is ignored, it can wait, until the realization of a possible abandoned shulker, so very common in this group, grabs him and almost instantly leaves as it moves around.

Several seconds later the orange turns brighter and the idea of lava pops in and out of his head in a flash.

<Etho> Beef have to lost an orange llama? <VintageBeef> no? <VintageBeef> at least I dont think so...? <Etho> o_o

He's been keeping out of the way for a while, like usual, and only knew some of the news about new people on the server. That they'd gotten there with Rendogs sports gang by accident and that they'd been living mostly over at Bdubs' place to avoid having them be excluded to their own little village. Apparently something had happened, he'd missed the details but it was looking like there was a manhunt for someone or something that he should by all means be more invested in.

Curious he misses the orange go out of view in favour of finding out about this missing thing in case he's found it. A person and a description, hidden deep in other messages. His height, human pig hybrid, last seen wearing...

Does he want to do this? He knows his way around a jungle but it's still annoying and Xisuma lives close by... but he's most likely AFK. Well, you make a good first impression on the new guys if you find their missing friend.

--- Omniscient/Unclear POV, Technos time with Etho

Silence is golden in silver light. The hermits can stay up days on end without sleep, working through nights when it’s needed and even with guests this doesn’t change. Like the sliver of moon in the sky, Ethos hair glows radiant from inside the redstone machine he calls the Googler and Techno does nothing but look on as repeaters are moved and redstone is smeared in new paths into blocks he has never seen before, something he’s had to get used to lately.

His host works in silence until a question breaks the jungles chime and an answer is given with the rhythm. The redstone had changed and he thought he had fixed it, an unhelpful follow up is posed and a pause is moved into a somewhat oversimplified version of the circuit. They both know that Techno is no help here, but the company is nice and something is learned.

Etho in the day when working the fortress tells Techno about the old days and in turn Techno admits to never having left those old days for long. Etho talks about Pause and Beef. Techno fails to talk about his own team.

#sundial au #mcyt #hermitcraft #technoblade #none of this was proofread

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icewindandboringhorror · 3 years

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Okay, here’s a final answer, just for clarification -

Firstly, please understand that I’m not angry, and I’m not upset. I just tend to speak very matter of factly, I guess? If I seem cold or something when typing this response, it's not a personal attack towards you or some display of aggression, that's just how I word things sometimes, I don't mean for them to be misinterpreted or want you to think I’m like getting mad with you or etc. Me disagreeing does not inherently equal me being mad about something, it merely means that I disagree, which is an emotion neutral action. If someone said 2+2 = 6, I would disagree, and openly so, but that doesn’t mean I’d also be like, crying about it or upset with them or something lol.

I actually even stated so at the end of my tags last time -

So, I apologize if you interpreted my tone as being mean, but I was simply trying to be firm and direct in how I said things so you understand that it's a very serious matter, and I didn't want to be light about it.

There was a bit of jokiness/sarcasm/exaggeration as well I suppose, but again, that’s not an inherent indicator of upset, just the way I speak - especially when your question can be seen as rude to begin with (which usually leads people to care less about faking positive emotions or seeming polite to others. If a person is not polite to you, you’re not likely to watch how you communicate as much or attempt to display high politeness back). My default state is a neutral flatness as I have a very shallow emotional range (shout out to schizophrenia spectrum negative symptoms and other various issues lol), any excessive positivity or “perkiness” or something that I display is just an attempt to be polite and communicate with others in a simple and kindly manner (in real life I’m often seen as too stoic, blunt, detached, cold, etc. lmao, so in general communication with strangers I tend to overcompensate to being excessively polite instead) - but that also means I can accidentally drop that sometimes if I’m being “real” or whatever.

Anyway, now that concerns over my tone have hopefully been explained, I’ll address this issue about your previous ask in a numbered list. Please read ALL of this, if you are actually taking this seriously. If you don’t actually read, in detail (no skimming), this entire response, then this is not even a discussion since you’re not willing to genuinely engage in the first place. -

Firstly, here is the original ask, for reference ----

As for how your question can be rude:

(1.) In my initial response (in the tags of your answer), I asserted various things, mostly that the question was rude, and that it’s not appropriate to ask people, for a variety of reasons. I’ll explain those in more length here.

My main point is that even asking the question in the first place is rude. It doesn’t matter how specifically you word it, it’s not appropriate. Just like any personal issue. At least in my culture, it’s typically thought of as inconsiderate and inappropriate to ask random strangers personal questions. for example, it would be rude to approach a random stranger on the bus that you’ve never even seen before and ask them why the have the haircut they do, who their sexual partners are, if they’ve just had a death in the family, how well their marriage is going, what their gender is, etc. etc.

(2.) On top of this personal boundary issue, another concern would be that the nature of the question itself is baseless --

Would you ask a cis woman why they're a woman? Or a cis man why he chose to be a man? Would you ask a straight person why they chose to be straight?

Would you find it acceptable and polite if a random stranger approached you on the street and asked you for an explanation as to why you're the gender you are? Imagine that exact scenario happening to you, and if you would find it odd or overstepping boundaries at all.

I doubt you ask this same gender identity question to everyone in your life, to your parents, friends, the cashier at your grocery store. Why is it only certain groups that need to explain or justify their identities to you? Only certain groups that you feel the inherent need to question? It's a double standard which further serves to prove the question itself is unnecessary.

(3.) Additionally, in case you're genuinely unsure of tone (maybe you have difficulty reading social cues or something, that’s understandable) I will explain - the way in which the question was asked has certain implications.

The statement “Why are you nonbinary? You seem like a pretty girl to me”, implies that - due to your beliefs about me/how you see me, you find it confusing that I could have a certain identity that you see as not matching your perception of me, or that you see as an invalid label, and are asking for me to justify or explain myself/my identity to you because of that.

Even if this implied meaning was not intentional, it is what most people will interpret upon reading the question, and would be a commonly held understanding. There are other ways you could have asked the question which would be less condescending, yes, but again, the other points still stand (like that the question in itself is impolite to ask to strangers, etc.)

Again, revisit the imaginary scenario of a stranger approaching you on the street and asking you why you’re the gender you are - would there not be some of this implication present? For example, say you’re a man - would it not feel as if someone were questioning your manhood, or implying you weren’t truly a man, or must not be a man ‘correctly’, or that ‘man’ is not a valid label for how they see you? Why else would they approach you and ask you in confusion for you to justify your identity to them? The implication is that they don’t see you as a valid man, or at least not how they see a man, and thus are having a hard time accepting that someone like YOU could ever be a real man - that it’s hard for them to believe you are what you say you are, because they see you differently.

(3.a) As an additional sidenote (one which I addressed in the tags replying to you initially), your ask (as well as this more recent one) also made certain assumptions. There are plenty of people who ''look like girls'' or 'look like boys' but aren't as they “seem”, even if you're someone who only believes in a “binary biological sex model” (I’ll include some links at the end about this). It's strange to assume someone's body parts or identity just based off of pictures you see on the internet (which often have specific lighting, angles, or in the case of many people are even edited and etc. I don't do this but it's really common nowadays with phone editing apps and stuff). Just because I appear a certain way to you, in no way implies that I have the physical form and traits you assume I have Consider how you may feel invalidated or uncomfortable if people sent you messages assuming personal things about you that are incorrect or that they have no way to possibly know.

Your standards and perception are also not universal, various cultures and groups have different ideas about what outward traits would make someone considered a “man” or a “woman”, so making your judgement of someone else’s identity based only on your own (extremely shallow, since it’s only from online pictures) perception of them, is also inherently a bit flawed.

(3.b-ish side tangent) In extension to this, your ideas and how you view me are likely incorrect. Just as it is similarly true that, from afar, any assumptions I make about you would likely be inaccurate as well. We are strangers.

For example, if you really knew me, you would know that I don’t pride myself in costumes and makeup - It’s a fun creative activity for me definitely, but I feel no pride over it, I don’t do it to look good or seem a certain way, and actually I resent it in a way, because often it feels like people mostly only pay attention to blurry pictures of me looking silly in cheap wigs, but don’t give that same level of engagement to the other more important things I do that I personally care about 100x more, like my worldbuilding and other projects lol. Absolutely nothing against the people who like my costumes, I appreciate them of course!!, and I still love doing costumes - BUT, to imply that it’s a primary source of pride in my life or a characteristic that defines me over other things, would be a mischaracterization.

Anyone who knows me in real life would certainly list a million other stand-out traits to define me, rather than ‘pretty make up woman’ (most people I know in real life would also not describe me as ‘pretty’ or as a ‘woman’, just for reference lol).

Your one sided perception of me (which I’ll address in the next section) may allow you to have a shallow idea of me as some sweet pretty costume girl or something, but just know that the reality is more like: I haven’t had much time lately to do costumes because I’m working on a game and other art which I see as much more important, I haven’t bathed or brushed my hair in weeks because of mental illness/functioning issues, 99% of the time I’m not ‘’dressed up’’ - I wear the same pajamas and cardigan that I’ve worn for the past 3 years and barely wash to the point that it’s disintegrating and leaves fabric scraps around the house lol, I have a little moustache right now and a unibrow and other “””non-womanly”””” traits (at least by common media western standards, which is what I assume you go by), I’m excessively analytical, detached, and in real life you would probably see me as blunt and cold and cynical (also commonly missing social cues) - as well as being hugely asocial/ a hermit and mostly lacking the ability to form attachments to others (So definitely not ~pretty and cute and approachable~ ghgg), I have obsessive compulsive disorder and am regularly so anxious that I’m throwing up and have various other issues - I’m also not Fun or Cool or Spontaneous because I’m too busy being rigid and high strung lol (even before the pandemic, I don’t like to leave the house or interact much at all with others, I’d rather be in my little controlled environment where I don’t have overwhelming sensory information and distractions raising my anxiety constantly),, and my favorite activities are literally all just stuff like pacing around my home alone talking to myself in different voices creating gods and fake religions for my fantasy worldbuilding while I eat boiled cabbage and light little pieces of paper on fire over a candle to help me think - not doing makeup and other Pretty Woman Things.

Which I don’t want to be too harsh or focus on this tangent too much, since obviously as you don’t know me in real life, these are all things you couldn’t possibly be aware of, and it simply comes with the territory of posting publicly online - so I absolutely don’t blame you for perceiving me incorrectly. If “pretty” pictures are all you see, then that may very well be the only impression that you have. I just personally dislike this certain interpretation some people have seemed to have of me (you’re not the first person to think of me as a Pretty Makeup Girl or whatever lol), since it’s so completely opposite from the truth of who I am, I feel the need to explain it like this sometimes. Just accepting the false perception some people have of me without any argument feels disingenuous and like supporting a version of myself that doesn’t exist.

So anyway, no issue with you personally, but just trying to set the perception of me straight a little more accurately lol.. now, back on topic --

(4.) Lastly, and here’s the main thing I’d like to stress, there's the issue of personal boundaries. Again, you're a complete stranger to me, I don't know who you are, and you have no idea who I am. Even if you've followed me online for years and read every post I've ever made, you still have no idea who I truly deeply am, only a vague scattering of snapshots over time.

Here are some definitions for Parasocial Relationships:

“Parasocial relationships are one-sided relationships, where one person extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, is completely unaware of the other's existence. Parasocial relationships are most common with celebrities, organizations (such as sports teams) or television stars.”

“Parasocial interaction (PSI) refers to a kind of psychological relationship experienced by an audience in their mediated encounters with performers in the mass media, particularly on television.[1] PSI is described as an illusionary experience, such that media audiences interact with personas (e.g., talk show host, celebrities, fictional characters, social media influencers) as if they are engaged in a reciprocal relationship with them. The term was coined by Donald Horton and Richard Wohl in 1956. “

This is all anyone can ever have with people they follow online. You can perceive them, but you cannot know them or truly understand them. I think this is very important to remain cognizant of in such a massive social media age, as often times people are fostering one sided concepts that are inaccurate or unhealthy (no so much with just you sending me a simple ask, but in a broader sense, how people act towards celebrities, other bloggers, etc. etc. seems to have little boundaries, and often results in a similar manner with people forgetting to maintain acceptable boundaries with those they follow or know about from afar).

-- This next part is very important, I think it’s a super valuable way of thinking about this sort of stuff, so if you take away nothing else from this, at least remember this next portion --

A very good way to think about online boundaries that I heard someone mention in a post once (though I can no longer find the post), is to take whatever you're going to say to someone online, and imagine saying it in person, in real life, to a barista. Before you send an ask or make a comment, think about if it’s something you would really genuinely say face to face to a stranger.

Would you walk into a random Starbucks and ask the dude at the counter a bunch questions about their gender identity? Or about his personal life in general? You probably recognize that that would be strange and socially inappropriate. It's similarly inappropriate in a case like this.

Even though you may feel a sense of familiarity with someone online from reading their social media posts, or even speaking to them once or twice through asks and etc. etc., at the end of the day you don’t really know each other much more than you’d know a random stranger.

Unless someone is inviting personal questions (like by reblogging those ‘ask me anything’ posts or etc.), or has the sort of blog where they are commonly asking people about/discussing their own intimate personal experiences or etc. (mine is not this way), then questions like this are very out of the blue and similar to asking a random person working at a store things like that. It can be seen as rude and inappropriate in general to give those sorts of questions to people who are complete strangers, and typically comes off as crossing personal boundaries. Again, think about a random stranger asking you these questions, and how you may perceive it.

In summary:

1. The question itself is borne from an double standard and isn't very good to ask in the first place. 2. The way you asked the question was worded with certain implications. 3. Your ask is also assuming certain things that you don't know are true, which can be uncomfortable for some people. 4. Even were it not for the three other things, it's commonly considered rude in many cultures to ask serious questions about the personal details of complete strangers, even if it's online. It could prove useful to utilize the ‘barista test’ to better determine this in the future.

Final Thoughts:

Anyway, I wasn't mad and I have no beef with you or whatever lol. Hopefully you can understand what I mean. I've also explained myself as well as I think I can though, so I don't feel like discussing it any more and won't respond to further asks about this. I have a lot of things going on in my life right now (as I'm sure everyone does given the pandemic and everything, you probably do too, so hopefully you can empathize with that), so I’d like to limit my time spent online, especially discussing topics I already don’t like to discuss or am not open to accepting questions about (I just want to talk about cats and elves and stuff lol).

If you still can't at least kind of get where I'm coming from then it's perfectly fine to just agree to disagree. If aspects of myself upset you or cause you discomfort, then there's no harm in just unfollowing me or something! Or if you don't even follow me, I would encourage you to block me so my posts no longer come across your dash (or block/unfollow me on whatever other social media you may be seeing my posts on ,etc)., etc. That way you don't have to see content or hear from someone who makes you uncomfortable that way, and there also won't be any need for this to come up in the future. Part of using the internet in a healthy and productive manner is to know when to disengage with certain content and just cut it off/unfollow/block people/etc. if it’s causing you unnecessary conflict or distress, or makes you uncomfortable or etc. to look at. Thank you for the question! Hopefully this response explained things a little better.

Links and Further Info:

On the off chance that you were genuinely curious, here are some resources where you can learn more about people of different gender identities and also hear them explain their experiences, etc. Since these people are actually openly discussing their experiences/making educational content and are obviously actually open to talking about it, that would be a better place to field any further questions or learn about things. :3

Here’s some reading -

Understanding Nonbinary People (link)

Gender Variance Around the World (link)

12 Questions About Nonbinary Gender Answered (link)

About the Sex Binary (link)

Ask LGBT subreddit (link)

one ‘ask a nonbinary person’ blog i found (I don’t know if they’re still active, it’s one of the first ones that came up for me lol, but I guess could be helpful) (link)

And here’s some videos with people talking about their experience, or being educational -

(NOTE: I just did a quick google search and did not deeply research these people and their entire histories and etc., so I can’t say I stand by literally everything they say or know what type of people they are, but it’s just a general place to start~!)

A video examining the idea of gender in general and how it even exists and nonbinary people (definitely interesting to watch) (link)

video about nonbinary gender/explanations (probably at least watch this one too) (link)

What is a nonbinary gender? (shorter general info) (link)

answering all your nonbinary questions q&a (link)

Video about binary sex/gender/etc. (link)

5 nonbinary people explain what nonbinary means to them (link)

another video about similar stuff (link)

#Please stop sending me asks about this now. I just want to talk about elves and cats and fantasy writing and stuff #No personal questions unless I specifically comment on something/initiate the discussion or they're about my art or something else I'm doing #lol... especially with everything going on this year #just a big Let Me Relax I Will Deal With Anything Even Remotely Stressful Later mood #ANd anon if you're still here - go listen to 'And the beat goes on' by The Whispers #no real reason gjhgjhg it's just a good song and I had it playing while I was proofreading #(also for context - it hasn't just been two asks - I'm pretty sure this person sent me others. If that's not true then I apologize anon -#but I definitely got multiple asks that were mentioning similar things/of a similar tone (intentionally referring to me as a 'girl' 'woman'#consistently and in a kind of agressive way or etc. (which you can block asks even if they're on anon (i think it's just an IP block) so if #it was indeed this anon sending them then they may be blocked from sending any more asks already because I blocked all those weird ones #I got lol. if it wasn't them then they should still be fine though- but anyway. there were other messages being sent #etc. consistently - which only happened after the first initial ask and would happen regualrly so. etc. etc. Just wanted to mention it since #the 'stop sending me asks about this now' comment doesn't make much sense if you think there was only two asks lol. I'm preetty sure #there were more - though of course they're all anon so I can't confirm. ANYWAY - again.. i have no beef with you but if we don't agree then #please just disengage and stop following my content/sending me asks - and maybe watch some of the videos and stuff or go to #other reasources if you really want to know about this stuff because I'm just not the right person/in the correct mindset to explain it to #you. I can barely do basic daily functions like making sure I eat 3 times a day lol.. I don't have the mental energy to write educational #essays and etc. but SOME people do - which is why pursuing other resources is important. ALSO - listen to The Whispers. that is my #final advice.. put on some good music and just dance and eat some cheddar cheese or something. this will soothe every issue )

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cirilee · 4 years

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i just found a text my browser had saved on a word count website, and i apparently typed it last november while being sad - i just wanna have a place to post it, and it explains why i was gone for most of may through november last year.

if you’re interested, u can read, it’s basically just a long long long vent and i wanna save it somewhere :’)

(and if you wanna, you can tell me what u think of the whole thing, maybe share if something like that happened to you too, because man, this whole thing was WEIRD for me)

bottom line is: i’m much better now and have way better friends then back then and in general, i’m a pretty happy person again^^

My parents and me had been fighting a lot the past years. I still love them. For a while though, it was just shouting matches between us. We weren't really speaking to each other throughout january 2019 until april 2019, so i wasn't informed by them that they were planning to mOVE OUT. And the place they wanted to move to only had enough space for 2 people. now my brother and me had 3 months total to find and finance our own flats. i was desperate. 2 months i unsuccessfully searched for a job or a flat or a way to make a deposit for said flat, without any saved up money. an old school friend offered to move out together. i only saw him once every month for group activities. he was nice, but we also had a bit of a history. 3 years ago he had acted kinda scummy and tried to get me to be his girlfriend because "he couldnt find anybody else” - ending in a "movie night with friends" that turned out to be a trap, where the only one spending the night was me because he only invited me. creepy. he apologized and i forgave him and we were chill and it was normal between us. i realize now, that i should have just left him out of my life at that point. but time was running out, so i gave in and asked myself "whats the worst he could do. i’ve known this person for 12 years and the he's part of my friend group" we set up basic rules, how we would pay for stuff, etc. .. we moved in. it seemed fine. then i noticed that he talked A LOT. and he wanted A LOT of attention. after a day of working on my diploma or working at my job, he would assert himself in my room and try to engage in smalltalk. i am not the hermit type. i engaged with him, i joined in on his conversation. but when i was already tired he wouldn't accept "i'm gonna go to sleep". there was always something else he needed to talk about. I was trying to make clear to him that i needed alone time too, but no matter how honest i was, the message either didn't seem to stick, or he'd get upset and start asking me if i hated him. With that, i could have kept up with in the long run. Then he started knocking on my door. even when it was already late and i already told him i was gonna go to sleep. Repeatedly knocking on my door. At some point he just opened the door. It was 1am. I pretended to sleep. I could hear him breathing, it sounded angry. He eventually closed the door. The next morning i confronted him. He argued it away as him trying to warn me that he was going to take a shower, so that i wouldn't use the bathroom. He started commenting on how i wasn't funny enough around him. in that friend group, i'm the funny one :c. but i cant keep up that energy 24/7 (this was supposed to be a home, not a free neverending standup act, for this one guy). that confused him. the next day he asked me if i had depression. My parents had given me a griller/toaster as a parting gift (there’s a backstory for that too but anyways) my flatmate ALSO had that same toaster. He demanded we make up our minds which one to keep. i didn't understand why this was important to him and i hated discussing this useless topic with him so i stored the toaster in my room. He repeatedly suggested i throw mine away (?). One evening i got hungry and decided i'd make myself a toast in my room. So i made some toast. Suddenly he bursts in. And he starts ranting. "why are you doing this are you CRAZY you cant TOAST in your own room thats DANGEROUS you're gonna start a fire, don't ever do that again, we have a KITCHEN for that. why don't you want to use the kitchen you cant just HIDE from me every day, this is OUR flat and i want us to live TOGETHER!" He didn't stop talking and it overwhelmed me, so (this is embarrassing, but) i actually started crying and i turned away from him so i could try to control myself. and he just started babytalking me "awww its alright i didn't mean to scare you, but you see, you shouldn't have done that". he tried putting his arms around me, i told him to stop. "you need a hug right now" ...... i was so angry i think my brain might have short circuited because the next hour was me just acting the whole way through. i told him everything he wanted to hear. i was so sorry for almost burning the house down and made up some explanation that my parents were still making me sad, so i needed distance. The next big thing involved one of my best friends. she wanted to spontaneously go out for an evening. so i put on some pants and of course: HE appears in my room, asking where i'm going. i was surprised by the question and just answered "going out with Lina" he left it at that. then suddenly: "can i come too?" He threw me off with that question. Lina had said she needed some advice on personal stuff, so I said "no" because i didn't have a better answer. he got ANGRY. i explained. "Lina wants some privacy, i'm sorry" He starts arguing that Lina is just as much his best friend, and that he should be allowed to hear what she wants to say to me. Before i can reply he slams his door shut. "Don't even try to explain yourself", he says. I told my friend while meeting up with her and she began with the sympathetic "you should have said yes" and we argued about it and then she came out with this absolutely horrifying sentence: "you know how he is. you cant be *too* honest with him. he's sensitive. you need to lie to him so he doesn't get mad" it was as if i'd been splashed with cold water. i said i didn't agree with that. that that was actually unfair to HIM. nobody likes being lied to and treated less than. she called him, told him i was gonna apologize and he showed up with the angriest expression i ever saw in his face. he accused me of being depressed and that he now has the burden of my mental issues to bear. This he assumed because one night i told him about me dissassociating sometimes a few years ago. Then he wanted me to promise i would never leave him, because he's afraid i won't be able to pay my part of the rent. the crowning moment was my friend Lina mostly agreeing with him and both of them berating me for not having my life together because i still hadn't managed to find an open-ended contract job, only limited-time jobs. at the end he justified himself by saying he cant stand my parents phoning me. (at that point they had started calling me everyday and showed genuine concern ... i was trying to reform a bond with them) - apparently he resented that. he knew about my parents disciplining me with face slaps as a kid (when i was 9-11 yrs old) (they feel bad about it, and they they stopped doing it fairly early) in that moment my flatmate chose to tell me ..... (hoo boy i need to get ready to type this) .... "i'm concerned about you. if your father would ever beat you, i would beat him to a bloody pulp" then he repeated "i would beat him/kill him" a few times, VERY agitatedly. it was scary and at that point i was numb. i didn't really respond, i just said "its fine" or something to that extent. the thing that made me decide to move out (although certainly among many that followed that night) was this: one morning i informed him i was going to visit my parents that weekend. we had started talking again (as i mentioned before and i wanted to meet them without fighting for once). he says "but you're coming back, right". i say "of course don't be so nervous". i go to work. i get a LOT OF texts from him suddenly. i skim through it. he's mad about me calling him "nervous". i don't reply/read bc i am at work. Then he actually CALLS me. i don't pick up. now i'm thinking: What is so important, that he has to call me during work. there's a 4 paragraph essay in my inbox. "watch your mouth", "you have no right to speak that way to me", "you should have more respect". he was mad i called him nervous. i responded that i don't have time to reply. he argued back. at one point i said "if i cant even call you nervous then i'm ACTUALLY gonna stay with my parents" he fiNALLY didn't reply to that. after a 10hour day i come home. i wanna shower. i go to my room, close the door and start undressing myself. of course, there's knocking on my door. i say "No" he flips out. i calmly tell him i'm only half dressed. he flips out even more, says i'm a horrible person who WANTS to fight because my "no" wasn't a good enough answer and i should have explained in full detail why he couldn't get in. he was actually SERIOUS. this was his reasoning for flipping out. he goes away. not even a minute passes by and he hammers his fist against my door again. "OPEN UP THIS TIME I *HAVE* TO COME IN" at this point i'm beginning to get kinda scared so i say "come in" He comes in and says he needs me to disconnect with the wifi because he needs it for his work. i calmly say "ok" and disconnect my wifi. he goes away, leaves the door open. i stand up to go and close my door. HE ACTUALLY GOES AND PULLS AGAINST ME TO TRY TO PRY IT OPEN AGAIN. eventually he lets go and then he flips out FOR REAL. he starts screaming about how i'm a psycho, and that im crazy and awful and he has been nothing but nice and that he "saved" me and i haven't been thankful enough.

.... ..

yes, i was in a difficult position. but that flatmate arrangement was made on even ground. he had wanted to move out from his parents for years. i fled and left. called my parents, but they were miles away and laughed it off. i would have probably too. i called my friends. Lina offered to come and mediate. He continued screaming even with Lina there. It culminated with him roaring at me, pointing at the door saying "if you don't like how i treat you, there's the door, leave right now" with lina replying "don't say that, you NEED her money to pay rent!" it was awful, and an eye-opener. the next day, on the way to work, i decided i was gonna move out. and before i could tell him, i get a message from him (!). An ultimatum. he tells me i have 3 options. 1) leave immediately and take my stuff away within a week. i wouldn't have "pay any more than i've already payed" (it was the first day of that month and i had already payed my rent. nice) 2) stay for half a year, but immediately pay him something so that he knows i'll stay 3) stay indefinitely, but set up a " bevahiour contract" with him, so this "never happens again" i told him i'd take option 1 and then i stayed over at a friends house. then at a friends shared appartement. then at dormitary and soon i'm gonna move in with my younger brother. we've been estranged a bit but grown closer through this whole thing. now Lina and him are still friends and lina blames me for "everyone in our friend group" being mad at him. one of her first concerns, was that her birthday parties are gonna be weird now. i am completely done with her as well and don't want her in my life anymore. according to her, I left him with a rent he cant pay and i should feel bad for that. except i dont. should i though?

#vent #rant

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grimey--gal · 4 years

Note

Prompt: A serial killer is after Andy! When Chucky finds out he goes and rescues him just in the nick of time( cause no one is gonna kill Andy but him) much to Andy’s confusion

Woof sorry this is so so late.

When Andy doesn’t pick up the phone, he’s not immediately worried. Andy is not the most technologically conscientious, and neither is he. It’s one of the many small things that had made him connect with Andy, whether they’d liked it or not. Most days, he’s starting to like it. He’s not sure what to do about this.

He doesn’t bother calling again, assuming. Andy has been late before, when he’s taking stock. A part of him wants to go down and help, but a part of him is too lazy to leave off the couch, and besides, he likes to think he’s done enough work around the apartment to feel justified in only smoking and painting at a half assed work on a canvas at least twice his size. Besides, he isn’t all too ready to admit that he actually misses the guy.

He definitely doesn’t. At all.

When a couple of hours pass, he starts to worry, and he does not like this. There is no reason why he should be worried. Andy should be dead and he should not care. Hell, he should be the reason Andy is dead. That should have happened awhile ago. Their strange compromise of coexistence should not have erased his thirst to bring Andy to ruin, and yet, he’s continually put that doomsday off. It’s been nice, just lounging around and smoking and drinking with him, even falling into the same habit of binge watching bad cable on the weekends. It’s been nice to air-rift the same guitar solos on CDs that they both enjoy listening to.

They both pretend it doesn’t happen, and this is yet another thing that Chucky likes. Andy feels just as awkward about it as him, and they see each other eye to eye on this. They’re both on the same page. It brings a comfortableness that almost make him more uncomfortable. It’s all a paradox, when he thinks about it.

He knows something is off when it hits eleven, and Andy is not home. Andy is an extreme hermit of sorts; he doesn’t like to be out late. Even if he doesn’t actually sleep until three or four in the morning (don’t ask him how he knows this, he won’t tell you), Andy is always home before eleven. There is the rare exception when he goes to Kristen’s, but for a while now, he’s started to tell him this. Chucky doesn’t know when that’s started to happen, and he doesn’t know why. It’s one of the many things that make him feel a certain tugging in certain places he’d thought he’d closed off.

He calls again, and this time, when the phone doesn’t pick up, he starts to feel a suspicious panic. He has never been someone to not be dramatic, so of course he thinks of the worst.

He scrolls through the apartment phone’s call list until he finds Kristen’s, dialing it and ignoring the usual tension he gets from interacting with her.

“Hey!” comes her voice, sharp and energetic. “What’s up?”

“Is Andy with you?” he asks, even though he knows the answer. She is obviously assuming he is Andy, so Andy can’t be there.

“Oh,” she says, voice dropping to that defensive and hostile tone. “It’s you. What do you want?”

“Obviously I want to know where the little fucker is,” he replies, feeling brave simply because he’s on the other end of the line. There’s something about Kristen DeSilva, and he doesn’t know what it is, but he feels something ancient and dark in her. It’s always scared him, just a little, but he’ll never admit it. He finds it eerily similar to when he prays to Lwa. “But I’m guessing he’s not with you.”

“No,” she says, and his heart drops. Fuck. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t like what this situation is forcing him to feel. “You didn’t check in the shop? You can’t be that lazy that you can’t walk down some steps to find the answer. Surely he’s still just working on something late.”

She pauses, and then continues, biting, “If I were him, I’d find any excuse to not be around you for as long as I could.”

He has to bite his tongue to not be crass. It’s a more difficult feat than you’d think, especially for his character. But she has a point, and he hangs up before she can say anything else to make him more irate. He should have just checked. Andy is probably down there now, and will wonder why he’s even looking for him, which is awkward and strange, but stranger still, he’d rather that terseness than the pit swallowing him whole right now.

He does not want to describe the way the pit grows when he comes down to find the shop open and empty. The door has not even been locked.

He tries to find some sort of clue as to why Andy would have left the shop like this. Andy is not irresponsible. He would not leave this way unless something had happened. He entertains the thought of something happening to his mother, and tries to calm himself down with this. Perhaps Karen Barclay fell ill, and Andy just left without thinking to tell anyone. But even then, at some point he would have to call someone to let them know. And honestly, Chucky is not sure that anything would make him not at least lock the front door.

There is no stock, no sign of inventory being updated. This is only all the more worrying. He calls again, this time from the store phone, and when he does, he hears the buzzing of a cellphone just underneath the store counter. His heart drops.

“No,” he says aloud, in disbelief. He’s in disbelief at the situation, and the panic and anger that starts to bubble up to his throat. It tastes like acid. But he opens the drawer, and sure enough, there is Andy’s phone, buzzing away at the call. There are several missed ones, two from Kristen, ten from him. Something about this embarrasses him.

He snatches the phone up from the drawer and slams it against the floor, watching it crack. It doesn’t bring Andy back, and he knew it wouldn’t, but something inside him hoped the destruction would bring him a little joy. It’s disappointing to find that it doesn’t.

“Andy, where the hell are you?” he shouts, to an empty store. There is no response, save for a loud and intruding beating in his throat.

______

Well.... I’m drunk.

Lemme know if you want me to finish this.

#jokes on yall I'm gonna finish it no matter how you respond #or even if i get NO response #which is common lately #asks #writing #dont it always seem to go #chuckyxandy #CAndy #childs play #fanfiction

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mine-sara-sp · 4 years

Text

What they do

Another Shadow People AU fic! Puzzler gets really close to giving Grian back to the Watchers.

Warning for manipulation and mild violence.

It couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t!!

Grian knew that if the Watcher’s got a hold of him again he wouldn’t be able to go back anymore. He would never be able to free himself of their grip on his mind.

He felt the pull of the portal under his feet, it was like they were calling him. They probably were, he hadn’t been so close to them in a year almost.

Puzzler held him up by the jumper, ready to let him fall.

A sight far too familiar, as this had already happened once. But that time he was saved. He managed to grab onto the side of the portal, gripping so tight he hurt his hands and scratching the bedrock. His entire life depended on him not going to the other side and he was lucky enough his friends arrived in time to get him out and get rid of Puzzler.

But now he didn’t think anyone could reach him in time. He heard the tower shaking as some of the more aggressive shadows were making their way up the intricate tower. But he didn’t have enough time. Maybe a distraction could buy him some time but he didn’t know what to say.

The shadow was far too smart to be tricked at this point. He didn’t know what to do.

He wished he never summoned him, it was all a giant mistake, the worst of his life after joining the watchers.

Was he such a bad person? His first shadow had turned out to be a living nightmare, hurting people for fun, and the second shadow was just an incarnation of everything he wished he could forget about his time with the watchers.

What they turned him into.

What- What--

“I GET IT NOW!” Grian yelped as Puzzler’s grip on him started to grow loser. About to drop him in the portal to the watcher’s domain.

“Wha-”

“You-- You picked on the part of me that was scared of the watchers!”

For an instant, all of Puzzler’s eyes grew wide.

“You hear them in your head, right? They never shut up about what you should do and-- ”

The Evo symbols flickered in and out of Puzzler’s eyes. Then anger made it’s way on his face, replacing the first surprise.

“I’m not scared of them! I’m one of them!” The shadow hissed and almost let go of Grian, but the hermit held on tight to his arm. Looking at him directly in the eyes.

“That’s what they told me too!!” Puzzler growled and let his sword appear in his other hand. If Grian wasn’t going to let go he would make him.

“That’s what they do!! They-They get inside your head!!” Puzzler raised the sword. Grian closed his eyes shut, tears starting to stream down his face.

“They tell you that you’re one of them, that you’re a god and everything you do is justified!! IT’S ALL A LIE!!”

He was ready to slice Grian across the arm but hesitated-

HURT HIM.

WE WILL HEAL HIM.

WE WANT HIM.

GIVE HIM TO US.

Puzzler’s arm trembled but he didn’t let go of the sword or let it fall down on Grian. Feeling the migraine that came whenever the watchers screamed orders at him in unison.

Oh? Orders?

He had never questioned it.

Grian opened his eyes when he didn’t feel the sword hit, he saw something he didn’t expect.

Doubt.

He kept talking, shouting, with the tears making everything blurry and confused. The only thing clear in his mind were the shadow’s eyes.

“They make you do horrible things you would never want to and somehow make you feel like you did the right thing!! They pull you away from what you love to have you do things that they want while convincing you that it’s your idea!”

But he did do the things he wanted. He… he did want all the things he did.

Right?

He thought about everything he did up to that point. He wanted to rebuild the empire. He wanted to make it grand. He wanted Taurtis, he had even made the summoning platform- he- he-

He hadn’t been able to put more than two flowers there.

The watchers always called him and put his focus back on Grian. On making a portal for him. On NOT letting him escape.

Puzzler felt his wings grow smaller, with the realization.

Grian kept talking seeing the effect of his words on the shadow.

“They made me do horrible things too and I felt like I had the right to do them!”

Puzzler’s grip on the hermit grew tighter and the one on the sword grew weaker.

Almost instinctively Grian held tighter to Puzzler’s arm, digging his nails into his skin. Feeling his eyes burn with a long-forgotten sensation.

Puzzler stared in disbelief as the purple Evo symbol appeared in his summoner’s irises.

How did-- The portal? Was just being this close to the portal awaking Grian’s watcher abilities??

The shadow’s eyes grew wider and scared suddenly, feeling as if Grian’s powers were trying to show him something.

He could fight it, he could let himself fall in the portal as well and avoid it.

But.. he found himself unable to move. Grian was the closest thing to a real watcher.

He was a real watcher too, wasn’t he?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DROP HIM.

“I WAS HORRIBLE WITH THEM!” Grian shouted. His words piercing inside Puzzler’s mind like a knife.

Tall horrible figures stared down at him. Wide smiles on their faces, pleased as their orders had just been executed. Grian felt proud of himself.

Puzzler let out a shriek as the memories of his summoner’s started making their way in front of his eyes, like multiple videos being played simultaneously. Like he could do with the memories of everyone on the server, but this was different, this was someone else forcing him to watch.

HE NEEDS TO FALL.

“I HURT PEOPLE! ALL BECAUSE THEY DIDN’T OBEY ME AND THE OTHER WATCHERS.”

He saw them, the pitiful players that tried to define the watcher’s rules. They burned to the ground. They cried. Begged. PRAYED FOR FORGIVENESS. THEY WOULDN’T GET A N Y T H I N G.

Why did he do it? why did he?? it- it wasn’t fair. Grian sobbed.

DISOBEDIENCE.

“I COULDN’T TELL ANYMORE IF IT WAS ME OR THEM WANTING THE DESTRUCTION”

Everything at his fingertips. Meteorites falling on who defined him. Kingdoms crumpling at his will. No one was safe. N o o n e.

They laughed.

He laughed. He cried.

He didn’t know.

Puzzler tried to push away the summoner’s memories, he couldn’t handle all these contrasting feelings, all these images. It was overwhelming.

DISOBEDIENCE.

“T-That’s why I was scared..”

The horrible figures towered over him. He hated them. he loved them. hated them- loved them-

hate-

love--

afraid.

so afraid.

leave me alone. I don’t want this.

Puzzler’s grip on the sword grew strong again, his arm still shaking.

LET HIM FALL.

“That’s why I ran away from them!”

“Shut up.” Puzzler hissed. Unsure of who he was talking to.

He let his sword go down with a quick hit. The stream of memories stopping at the sound of Grian’s pained scream. His grip on Puzzler’s arm disappeared.

Puzzler felt the migraine getting so hard he thought his head was splitting in two, his eyes-- Puzzler realized his eyes were closed. All of them.

He had never closed all his eyes at once.

“I didn’t know who I was anymore.” Grian managed to say with a shaky and low voice.

he was still talking.

He looked at him, shaking in pain and crying again for the deep wound on his arm. Now the only thing keeping Grian from falling into the Watcher’s hands was, again, only Puzzler’s tight grip on his jumper.

LET HIM FALL.

Puzzler hissed at the Watcher’s words. Order.

He stared at his summoner. Let him slightly slip down from his hand.

Grian let out a scared whine and asked one last thing.

“Do you know if- if you’re really you? Do you know who you are?”

He was-

A watcher! He was Puzzler! He--

He--

He wasn’t sure of it..

He didn’t want to let Grian fall into the Watcher’s right now.

He wanted to put flowers on the summoning platform and nothing else.

“You…”

Puzzler hissed, his wings spreading and growing bigger. Taking away all the remaining light that wasn’t coming from the portal.

“You make a great Watcher Grian. You went right inside my head! Good job.” A smile appeared on the shadow’s face.

“Look at the bright side! Once you’re on the other side you’ll be able to destroy this whole server out of frustration! Thanks for letting me see what you’re capable of with the right help.”

Grian’s blood ran cold.

“You’re probably right, you know. I’m aware I would be completely different if it wasn’t for the watchers. But you know what?”

The shadow pulled Grian closer, for a moment he felt as he could touch the border of the portal.

“Unlike you, I don’t know how I should have been. I have no other starting point. Horrible horrible, but I don’t know anything else.”

In an instant, Grian was once again away from the solid blocks that made the border of the portal and suspended at the center of it.

“So, unless you have the power to show me how I should be… Say hello to the other Watchers for me Grian.”

“O͔͎̯̖̩͕h̵̞͈̝̘,̳̭ ̠̞͖̞̠̝I̲̺̤̖̦ͅͅ ̵̖̮̤̪c͉̣a̹̥͢ņ̥̺ ̻͙̙̱̫͔̖f̮̫̩̱͠i̷x̰̺ ҉̦̣t͈͚͕͎͠h͚a̦̩̲̖̠͇͎t̮̳͇͕̕ ̯ḅ̸̤͔̺̻͚̰i̺̦͔rd̟̦b̗̠ͅr̶̥̳͖̩̩ͅa͝in.̻̲̖̺̹̱”

Puzzler reacted instantly, flying away from Abyss attack and letting Grian fall on the floor.

Grian gasped for air and crawled as far away from the portal as he could, while the room was engulfed into complete darkness. He didn’t know if it was Abyss’ doing or his senses starting to give out.

His eyes burned from using the watcher’s powers and he could hear their voices calling him.

Grian come back with us.

We want you.

We miss you.

Just a few steps away.

“Fuck off..” He muttered taking as much distance as he could. He could hear other voices coming from the room’s entrance. Other shadows? The hermits?

Then an ear ripping shriek came somewhere behind him, followed by a laugh that made his fear response go immediately to freeze.

“Got you…”

Grian looked back. The darkness shifting and parting, like Abyss himself, was proud of having Puzzler in his hands now and wanted someone to see.

“Now, let’s see the shadow you were supposed to be.”

Blinding light filled Grian’s vision. The most horrifying scream ever heard made him cover his ears.

And just like that.

Puzzler didn’t exist anymore

Someone else took his place.

“Welcome to the overworld little shadow.”

#shadow people au #abandoned shadows #hermitcraft #Puzzler #Grian #Abyss #grian di some fucked up shit when he was with the watchers #and puzzler was almost impressed #sp fanfiction

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bloodfcst-a · 4 years

Text

your muse’s “negative” qualities: zodiac edition .

adapted from this post !! bold what definitely applies to your muse. italicize what somewhat applies to your muse. repost ; do NOT reblog.

Aries: tries to do everything at once, doesn’t know when to stop and take care of themselves, bends over backwards for everyone even if someone did them dirty, has entirely too much on their plate.

Taurus: idealistic, spends a lot of time trying to impress others, doesn’t like to apologize, eating is a coping mechanism or just addictive personalities in general, a tad codependent.

Gemini: the most flip floppy people ever, what’s today’s mood?, never apologizes, in denial 90% of the time, their way is the highway, desperately needs a break, they have a hard time setting goals because their goals scare them.

Cancer: the literal meaning of I’ll give you the shirt off my back, isolates themselves in fear of someone hurting them, wants to change but is scared of change, complains a lot but never takes advice people give them.

Leo: no one takes them seriously because they feel they always have to portray themselves as the fun one, is actually really sad inside, honestly needs a hug, exhausted always.

Virgo: can dish it but can’t take it, rushes everything, anxious, plans their future but forgets to live in the moment, sometimes ignores their friends because they have so much on their mind, talks about themselves a lot and sometimes forgets to ask the other person how they are.

Libra: solves everyone’s problems but their own, is actually really sad and lonely, gets easily heartbroken but tries not to show it, will do anything to justify bad decisions, honestly just wants everyone to love them but doesn’t really love their self.

Scorpio: easily set off, will give anyone the cold shoulder at any time even without reason, keeps a lot in, so observant that they often times find out things that hurt them, too many “what ifs” swirling in their heads, has trouble showing their true selves.

Sagittarius: impatient, brash, commitment issues, body issues, doesn’t realize they don’t need to change for anyone, has a lot of different goals to a point where they get overwhelmed, just wants to disappear and do what they want without anyone questioning them.

Capricorn: scared people won’t like them unless they’re at the top of their game 24/7, takes a LOT for them to talk about their feelings, secretly struggling, fake happy, needs a plan but doesn’t know what that plan is, confident but insecure at the same time, wants to be stable but sometimes wishes they could drop everyone’s expectations of them and live normally.

Aquarius: gets heartbroken like 30 times a week, trust issues, can be unmotivated and disinterested, feels they have to adapt to every person they meet so they can be liked, doesn’t know how to tap into their emotions despite being very intuitive, confused, expects little.

Pisces: empathetic often to a point of no return, plays the victim, doesn’t know when to say no, cynical, hermit, is very impatient, trusts everyone too much, can be secretly very critical and judgmental, can only tolerate maybe ten minutes of social interaction, needs a lot of validation.

Tagged by: @drownblessed ! omg this..... lowkey made me feel a lil sad for tida? yufi’s like... she’s shook lmao. Tagging: @fairstclass @heartarise @evoquant @enshijou @bellecosebabe @ehregeiz @fighterhcrt @noirtux @duplikiss @dyivaos + if you’re feeling up to it !

#♘ kisaragi .

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weepylucifer · 4 years

Text

Let’s Go in the Garden - Ch. 1

Team Folly takes a call and unearths a bit of past that everyone believed long-buried.

“Aed,” said the fae. “Please, you may call me Aed.”

It was, that much I knew from what had stuck during my leafing through the Folly’s mundane library, one of the lesser known faerie aliases, like Aisling or Myself or Nobody, something for a fae to use in a pinch, and certainly not likely to be this guy’s actual name. But it had been what he’d responded to my inquiry after his legal name - fine, A legal name for our files.

Aed looked like David Bowie and Kurt Cobain had had a lovechild, whom they then abandoned to be raised by a family of raccoons.

He was tall, pale, skinny and he gangled, and everything about him looked… dejected, is what I’m trying to bring across here. Fae have often been observed to dress according to their chosen vocation, or so one of the ancient wizards said who used to record his observations on the demi-monde within the Folly’s records. I’ve certainly also seen this here and there, like Molly’s Edwardian servant dress or Foxglove’s artist getup. This guy seemed like he was trying to play up a role of… hermit, or dumpster-diver.

Aed’s story was this: once upon a time, in some vague past, his… Nightingale says ‘tribe’, I would opt for ‘community’… of fae had had some neighbourly dispute with another one. Before they knew it, dispute became war, there had been a vicious attack, and Aed’s people had been scattered. Far as he knew, he might be the last one standing. Now, unwilling to pass back into the realm in which his type of fae actually dwelt for fear of what might await him there, Aed subsisted in a... it cannot be said any more politely, in a dank cave out on Dartmoor, far from any kind of civilisation save for a few scattered villages around and about. They barely counted, for my part; most of them could barely boast one decent pub.

Sometimes, occasionally, people from these adjoining towns would stumble upon Aed’s dwelling. Purely by accident, you understand, it wasn’t like he was luring anyone out here, or at least so he claimed. Most people, he could simply cause to forget. They would head home and not bother him out here again. But sometimes, people came to him with a wish to make. A bargain to offer. Troubled people, he said. People who, like him, longed for escape. A quiet place, to hide from something, just to get away from it all, and bliss. Oblivion. Respite.

I looked into that gaunt face framed by sad, stringy hair, those long, bony fingers fiddling nervously with the strings of his moss-green hoodie, and understood that Aed actually had thought he was helping. And the disappearances had been too few and far between as to ever rouse the suspicion of the Folly, or much of anyone for that matter. But then, about a week ago, a girl named Lucinda Blaine had gone missing and, what with her being the great-granddaughter of a bloke remotely connected to Hugh Oswald’s gossip mill, we’d gotten a call on the Folly’s ancient landline. Even ancient retired practitioners keep their eyes open, apparently, and people disappearing plus a relatively recently circulated local fairy myth about the area had warranted a call to us. So we’d headed out here because, well, obligation, missing children, all that jazz. This time, Nightingale had tagged along, possibly because he too felt an obligation towards one of his centenarian cohorts and, by extension, their families. Apparently, just after the war, he’d been asked to stand godfather to the spawn of about anyone who’d made it back to England and gotten it in their heads to start procreating. There had been guys trying to name their sons after him. These days, all the hype seemed to have died down: we didn’t often get veterans calling the Folly, and if Nightingale was otherwise in contact with any of them, I’d never noticed, and I got the feeling he preferred this.

“But she approached me with a wish,” Aed was now saying. I was taking his statement right there in the cave, seeing as he couldn’t be persuaded to leave it, and abandon his sleeping charges. “She told me her situation had become untenable. That she longed to escape the torments of her life.”

“Well, she’s eight,” I replied, maybe a bit more sharply than was strictly appropriate. “Eight-year-olds try to run away from home sometimes. Doesn’t mean adults should enable that. Yeah, her parents getting a divorce is causing her a lot of grief right now, but she’ll get better eventually. It for sure doesn’t warrant putting her into a magical sleep forever.”

I looked around the cave. Lucinda was nowhere near the only person asleep here, although we had been quick to find her. The other people resting here in their magical stasis were adults, thank god for small mercies. There were green vines everywhere, making up beds for the sleepers, growing under and above and beyond them; the ones that had evidently been here the longest were all but covered in vegetation. But they were all breathing, and none of them looked worse for wear.

“People have to go and confront their problems,” I said. “What do you think sleeping it off is going to solve? Will they really be happier when they wake up and it’s a hundred years later?”

Aed looked at me, saddened and confused. Here was a guy who had been out here on his own for too long, I thought. He had lived here in his own little world, where making people disappear was justified and good, and now he suddenly had wizards in his home demanding he stop. “Their problem would be gone,” he said softly.

“They’d have other, bigger problems instead.” I shook my head. Sometime soon, we’d have to wake up all these people and get them out of here, preferably into medical care; they would be in shock and needing to be looked at. I had no idea how the folks over in the town would cope with having everyone who disappeared here within the last couple years back at once. Mostly, though, right this moment, I was worried about getting Aed to part with his charges. He didn’t look like he had a lot of fight in him, but with the demi-monde you never know.

It was then that Nightingale tapped me on the shoulder. “Perhaps I should like to have a word with Aed here, outside,” he said. “In the meantime, you’d better start reviving the victims. Getting these plants off of them should do the trick, but try not to have them touch your skin. And see if you can call anybody at the local force, these people are going to be needing medical attention.” Then he gently, but firmly put a hand on Aed’s shoulder and steered him towards the mouth of the cave.

“Now,” I heard him say, “let me tell you, one survivor to another…”

I tried not to strain my ears to listen to what they were discussing. I had work to do, anyway. Through some minor miracle, I had a signal up here, so I called down at the station in one of those arse-end-of-the-world towns and got told that while it would be nigh-impossible to get an ambulance out here, there would at the very least be a team of first responders along soonish. I sighed to myself, already impatient to return to London and civilisation, but there was a job to do first. I put on gloves and started to unravel all the vines.

Nightingale proved to have been right, people began waking up as soon as I got the flora off them. They were fairly out of it, most of them confused, somewhat frightened, especially the eight-year-old. Apparently most of them had not come out here for a bargain with the faerie expecting to be laid to sleep in a cave. I questioned them - gently, you see. There was a group of twenty-somethings here who’d wanted to celebrate some pagan ritual (completely made up). There were some other folks who’d simply angled for a meditative moment, to honor a little local custom, to leave a wish for the faerie, expecting... well, nothing much. After all, the Good Gentlemen of the Hills weren’t real, right - until they were. Some of these people had indeed been here for years. I had my hands full, and the situation was coming precariously close to slipping from me when the first-response-team showed up, dispensing shock blankets and gently corralling everyone to where they’d parked the ambulance.

Just about then, Nightingale came back. He wasn’t terribly wordy, said he had been able to persuade Aed to return home at last, to finally check on his people. I wanted to ask what he said to him but didn’t, a slight bit afraid that he’d had to make threats of some sort or worse, give Aed the Condensed Ettersberg. I imagine suspecting you’re the last one of your people and knowing it makes a bit of a difference, and according to Nightingale, last anyone from the Folly had checked, some of Aed’s tribe had still been extant, so who knows. Maybe there was hope for that guy yet.

“You missed another one back here,” Nightingale said at last, striding deeper into the cave.

There was what remained of Aed’s camp here, a sleeping bag and futon, a portable stovetop, a few bags with odds and ends. Depressing. There was, indeed, also another buried sleeper.

The vines were thickest towards the back of the cave, a verdant green affair that didn’t look quite… real, almost stylized, like vines in a video game rather than real life plants. They were almost as thick as a man’s forearm, and the shape of the last person trapped here was suggested rather than seen. I had trouble pulling them off without potentially injuring the sleeper, so Nightingale said, “Allow me,” and disintegrated them using some at-least-fifth-order spell. I had half an eye on the other sleepers who were all slowly coming to, so I left him to it until he called my name.

“Peter,” he said, and there was a sudden tension to his voice that worried me, “I’m afraid we have another problem.”

He had unearthed the whole man - I have to assume - by now, and was looking at him with a hard-to-read expression. There was almost some disdain in it, certainly a load of dismay.

“Sir?” I asked.

“This is another sort of glamour here, some seducere variant,” he explained, “or another fae. It cannot possibly be what it looks like.”

This surprised me, seeing as I wasn’t feeling anything at all weird - no vestigia, nothing. By the looks of it, this was another ordinary bloke sleeping here, another result of a dodgy deal with the fae. But I decided to defer to Nightingale’s expertise. “How so?” I asked.

“For the sake of convenience,” Nightingale said, “Could you please describe to me what you are seeing here?” He gestured at the sleeping man and there was some undercurrent of something in his voice, something badly repressed there, and my concern and confusion mounted. Still, I obliged.

“I’m seeing a white male, early or mid-fourties by the looks of him,” I started my description. “Dark hair, sort of unkempt, sort of a gaunt look to him. He has a mole or birthmark on his neck, here.” I tapped my own thoat in the corresponding place. “He is wearing what appears to be hiking gear, pretty old, that is to say old-fashioned but well-maintained. He must’ve been laid up here for quite some time. Boots, like army boots, like the pair you have. Grey canvas jacket, or maybe it’s khaki.” Hard to tell in this light.

If anything, my description seemed to surprise Nightingale even more. “Yes, that is… that seems to correspond with what I’m seeing.” He shook his head. “I was expecting for you to be seeing… something else.”

“Like what?” I don’t get impatient with my governor often, but I have to admit I was starting to hate how tongue-tied he was being.

“Probably a woman,” he said cryptically. “Anyway, this cannot be what it appears to be, seeing as I know this person, and he’s been dead for quite awhile.”

Ah. Well, shit. And here I’d been so glad already that this situation had gone over without any fighting. I wanted to ask Nightingale who it was, but he beat me to it before I could so much as open my mouth.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s get it over with. Stand back, I’ll try to wake him.”

Before I could think to argue, or even make up my mind about what alternative action to argue for, Nightingale gripped his staff tightly, got down on one knee and used his free hand to shake the sleeper by the shoulder.

The man was slower to rouse than any of the others we’d found; he murmured something, a hand coming up to swat in the vague direction of Nightingale’s, but after a minute, his heavy eyelids fluttered open.

Voice thick with sleep, the stranger slurred, “Thomas?”

Nightingale straightened, took two steps back and huffed out through his nose. “Don’t even attempt it.”

The stranger blinked, evidently confused, and then, with surprising speed, he lunged to his feet. I admit I flinched.

The stranger’s legs were trembling, he was shaky with the effort of keeping himself upright after laying prone here for god knows how long. Hair fell into his eyes as he leveled a wild-eyed gaze at my governor.

“Get away!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “You’re that fae again. You’re a shape-changer, aren’t you? How dare you appear to me like this?”

Nightingale raised an eyebrow. “I should be asking you these questions.”

“You’re not Thomas. Thomas fell at Ettersberg.”

“What?” Nightingale crossed his arms; it was almost funny how indignant he sounded. “No, it’s you who died as a result of Ettersberg.”

Jesus Christ, I thought, Ettersberg again. It’s always fucking Ettersberg, isn’t it? Unbelievable, really, how much my life was being affected by a place I’d never been to and had no desire to visit.

“Nonsense,” the stranger ground out harshly. “We… we had no word, there was, there was no way anyone on the ground got out.”

Nightingale was drumming his fingers against the tip of his cane, as much proof of his pique as I’d ever seen him exhibit. “And yet here I am.”

“That’s… no. You’re not Thomas.”

“It is you who isn’t what you profess to be.” I was seeing just how tired Nightingale was growing of this back and forth. Whoever, whatever this was pretending to be one of his old war buddies, it had him careening towards the end of his tether.

“I am exactly what I profess to be,” the stranger claimed. He took a deep breath. “In 1930, in November, I was visiting you while you were staying at the consulate in Lahore. We sat in the gardens, under the stars, and you said to me that you wouldn’t mind if–”

Nightingale cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. “You could easily pluck that from my memories.”

I had been watching the exchange, I must admit, with my mouth slightly agape. Now I saw an opportune moment to cut in. “Sir,” I said. “He claims to be someone from the old Folly, right?”

“That’s right,” Nightingale replied at the same time as the stranger asked, “Who’s that?” like he was just now noticing me for the first time.

“My apprentice,” Nightingale introduced me. “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of him.”

I found that a little bit of an odd thing to say in the moment, but I was also flattered at the show of trust.

“An apprentice?” The stranger snorted. “Yeah, bullshit. My Thomas doesn’t have an apprentice, and no desire to take one either.”

I ignored him for the time being. “Sir, as for proving his identity, one way or the other,” I suggested, “could you recognize his signare? Is it possible to fake that?”

Nightingale looked at me in the way he does when I hit on something he hasn’t considered before. “Not that I know of.” He beckoned towards the stranger and demanded, in one of his rare militaristic tones, “Right. Werelight, please.”

“You too,” the stranger said through clenched teeth.

“While we’re at it,” Nightingale said with a nod and they both held their palms out, and conjured a werelight each.

Now, I’d like to say I’m familiar enough with Nightingale’s signare from all this time spent around him watching him work his magic. The stranger’s was entirely new: like a gust of fresh air through a recently opened window (I thought I could even feel a hint of the curtains blowing in the sudden breeze, white and starched), a hand skimming over cool tiles, the sound of something bubbling in a beaker, and a hint of pine that weirdly seemed to correspond with a component of Nightingale’s own signare, like two pieces of something coming together.

The stranger gaped. “It’s really you. You’re really here, you… you’ve found me.”

I glanced from him to Nightingale, who seemed to have frozen solid. His staff clattered loudly as it hit the ground. And I swear, I have never ever seen this purely indescribable look on my governor’s face.

“David.”

“Hi, Thomas.”

I kind of stared. David is a common name, but somehow I knew exactly which one this was. I knew approximately two things about David Mellenby with a certainty: he’d been very into science, and he was definitely dead. No wonder Nightingale was suspicious. Apart from that… not much. Nightingale had brought him up maybe twice.

“This isn’t possible.” I barely recognized this as Nightingale’s voice, but it was coming out of his mouth, so what else could it be? “You’re… dead, they told me, Hugh Oswald found your body. It about gave his nerves the rest.”

The stranger - David, apparently - twisted his mouth into a discomfited frown. “Hugh Oswald found a body. I’m so sorry.”

“But how…” Nightingale shook his head. He looked as if a train had hit him, and it was a disquieting sight. I was used to Nightingale in control, see, I was used to him being the guy who, well, might not always know right away what to do, but will reliably find out. “What are you doing here?”

“I left… I ran. I had to get away. It got... too much, being in the Folly, with that damnable library there. I don’t know, I barely knew what I was doing. I just wanted to disappear. I had no idea you’d made it out of Ettersberg, Thomas, I would never let you believe I was dead. You must know that. I ran into this fae out here and… I’m not sure what happened then, but I must have talked myself into a right mess.” Mellenby tried for a smile. “But it can’t have been too long, can it? You look good. Did you just get home? You seem to have recovered rather splendidly. Are you… are we alright?”

Nightingale seemed to unfreeze at that. He stepped forward, and then, with unfailing precision, he punched Mellenby in the nose.

Mellenby, still unsteady on his feet, reeled back, stumbled and landed flat on his arse clutching his bloody nose. “Thomas! What on earth–”

“You…” Nightingale was breathing heavily. “You were here the whole time, alive, you ran away, is what you’re telling me? How could you do this to Oswald? How could you do this to me!”

I was seriously starting to worry for everyone’s continued safety here. Nightingale stood rooted to the spot, trembling fists white-knuckled at his sides and let’s be frank, he’s not a guy who hauls off and punches people. I’d thought I’d known what anger looked like on him but boy, did I have no idea. I’d seen him more controlled while actively in a fight with Chorley.

Mellenby stared up at him, his eyes wide. “My songbird…”

“No. You don’t get to… no. I’ve been alone with it all for - eighty years have passed, David!”

There was a dreadful little silence in which Mellenby just blinked. “I… are you saying I slept for eighteen years?”

“Eighty,” I piped up. The both of them turned towards me as if only just remembering I was there.

“Peter.” Nightingale’s voice was leaden. “Hand me my staff, will you? I seem to have dropped it.”

“Sir, may I suggest not doing anything you might regret,” I posited, because ‘my songbird’ was still kind of echoing, if not in the cave then certainly in my mind. I was closest to where his staff had rolled off to, so I did pick it up, but made no move to hand it over.

“Allow me to judge this for myself,” Nightingale said through clenched teeth. He beckoned in my direction without looking at me, his eyes still boring holes into David. “And give me my staff.”

I didn’t know if he wanted to use it for its intended purpose or just as a blunt object, but I couldn’t in good conscience enable either. “Sir, I don’t think–”

“I shan’t repeat myself.”

“Thomas, please, you know I love your little pranks, but this is not the time–” Mellenby started to say, but Nightingale waved his hand in the sharp downward motion that accompanied his more theatrical spells, and Mellenby’s mouth clicked shut.

He stared up at Nightingale in complete disbelief, eyes wide and shining with the onset of tears, unable to get his mouth open. I had seen this once before, and yet again I felt the vast and smooth click-clicking of Nightingale’s magic at work. But it felt different than the usual, disordered, the myriad little gears grinding.

“Sir,” I said, more sharply than I perhaps had intended. Nightingale finally turned to look at me, and slowly, gradually, he slipped back into the 21st century, where we have rules against using our magic on people in anger.

Mellenby crumpled to the floor when he was released from the spell, his head lowered, eyes leaking, cheeks glowing from the strain of trying to open his mouth earlier, some blood still smeared below his nose. Nightingale looked from me to him to me again.

“My apologies,” he said stiffly, to the room in general, and strode for the exit.

#i never started in media res before #david mellenby lives AU #idk if this is... wise to post like idk if this is good and this chapter is mostly exposition and scene-setting but #eh you know what i added some of the drama originally intended for chapter 2 bc hey it felt prudent right this second #posts by me

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one-night-story · 4 years

Text

And I Still Hear The Echoes (Leon from Pokémon)

A/N: y’know, I really wish I could explain this, but I can’t. First person to figure out who Keyanna’s “Boss Man” is gets a cookie and kudos.

Keyanna was sitting on her front porch. It was far too enjoyable, Galar was nicer than Alola on days like this. She would’ve been hiding in the House if she was still there, but a late morning here with a cup of cold brew coffee felt… nice. An unnatural feeling until very recently. Her Houndoom, Enyo, was sitting on the bottom step, watching the field. She was waiting for the call to go scare some trainers, but Keyanna hadn’t spotted anything. Until a guy popped up in the distance. Enyo whipped her head around and swished her tail.

“Hang on, if he comes this way, I’ll give you the go.” Keyanna said. She watched the figure and watched as he wandered into the grass in front of her house. “Alright, Ens, go for it.” She said as she watched Enyo race to go spook the trainer. The trainer threw a Pokeball and out popped a Charizard and Keyanna paled slightly, she hadn’t been expecting that, and he could take Enyo out in a heartbeat. “Allura,” she muttered. Her Espeon poked her head up from the chair she was laying on. “Go help Enyo.” She said. Allura stretched out and ran toward the fight. It went on for a couple of minutes when Enyo came back, limping. Keyanna jumped up from her chair and put her mug down before racing to see what the fight was shaping up to be. The trainer’s Charizard was battered and so was Allura, she was on the doorstep of knocking out. “‘Llura!” Keyanna exclaimed. She hadn’t expected that, though maybe she should have. But she couldn’t think about that as she cautiously protected Allura.

“She’s yours?” The trainer asked. Keyanna flashed a dangerous glare in his direction. She sure as hell hope it scared him, despite it not being a gaze she’d used in almost a month.

“Of course! You didn’t expect to find a random Espeon did you?!” She snapped. Keyanna looked back towards the house. “Kama!” She shouted. An Arcanine came bounding toward them and stood next to Keyanna waiting for orders. “Help Allura into the house.” She said as she picked up Allura and placed her on Kama’s back. Kama went back towards the house and Keyanna glared at the trainer before looking at the Charizard. “He’s banged up, I’ve got potions at my place, it’ll be cheaper and faster than trying to get to the Pokemon Center from here.” She said. She placed her hand out and allowed for the Charizard to investigate it. “How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” He asked.

“It’s not me you have to worry about, you pissed off Enyo.” She said as she started walking back toward the house.

“The Houndoom?”

“Yeah,” She said. “Are you coming?” She said as she stood in the grass. The trainer and his Charizard wandered along with her as she stomped toward the house. As they approached both her Luxray, Vitani, and her Mightyena, Fenrir, went up in alarm. Fenrir growled at the Pokemon that had harmed his friend. Fenrir and Enyo had always been Keyanna’s fiercest protectors, and no one was going to get close to her without both of them giving the go ahead. Vitani, the new kid on the block was just willing to prove herself, and she and Allura were close. “Stand down, both of you, he’s friend for now.” She said. Fenrir eased to sitting but was still on edge and still looked like he’d like to tear the Charizard limb from limb. Vitani fell in step with Keyanna as she started to walk into the house.

“He’s not gonna fit in the door,” The trainer remarked. Keyanna turned around and looked up. He was probably right.

“Go through the side gate, I’ll meet you out back.” She replied. The trainer nodded and wandered around her side of the house. Keyanna strode inside and thanked the stars that Boss Man had stolen potions for her before she left Alola. She grabbed a max one, a hyper one, and two regular ones. She wandered to her backyard where her Ninetails, Lafayette, was basking in the sun. She tossed the hyper one to the trainer and wandered over to Allura. “Hey, hey, I know, lemme help.” She said as she sprayed her down. Allura soon enough was healed, but charging a psybeam at the Charizard. “Hey! ‘Llura, no.” Keyanna said, getting in the way. She then sprayed the two potions on Enyo, who then was also ready to square back up with the Charizard that had almost taken her out. “Ens! No.” Keyanna snapped. Enyo sat down and flicked her tail. The trainer summoned Charizard back to his pokeball so he didn’t have to worry about another battle. Keyanna was thankful for that.

“They’re tenacious, I’ll give them that.” The trainer said. “No doubt something they learned from their trainer.” He added. Keyanna looked at him and tried to not glare at him, but her nerves were still a little fired. She realized it had been her fault, but she’d never been so scared for Allura, easily the squishiest of her team. She let out a sigh instead, trying to calm herself down.

“Yeah well, kind of a requirement.” She muttered. Boss Man would’ve had her head if she hadn’t gotten her Pokemon as strong as she could.

“What’s your name? Figured I should at least apologize for almost knocking out your Espeon. I’m assuming she has a name too.” He said.

“Her name’s Allura. I’m Key.” She said.

“How many times have you gotten the Klefki joke?” He joked. Keyanna glared and that seemed to give him enough of an answer. “Okay, so a lot then.” He said. “Well, thanks for healing Charizard, and I’m sorry for Allura and Enyo.” He added using their nicknames, which she appreciated. Keyanna looked him properly without the air of anger and annoyance now knowing that her Pokemon weren’t in immediate danger. He was cute. Almost offensively so. A mess of purple hair, his hand behind his head like he was nervous which just brought attention to his arms, and very much taller than her. The tension that usually hung in her shoulders eased as she scoffed to herself, almost mad about what she was about to propose.

“You want a cup of coffee? As an apology for snapping at you.” She said.

“I don’t want to --”

“You’re not gonna impose or whatever. I’m not doing anything today, other than scaring trainers.” She said. “I have Tapu Cocoa if you don’t like coffee.” She added.

“Tapu Cocoa?” He asked.

“Alolan specialty, I used to work with a guy who’s lifeblood was made of the stuff. I’ve gotten pretty good at fixing it up to be perfect.”

“Alright, then yeah, I’ll take a mug.” He said with a smile. Oh now that was just rude, he lit up her backyard in a way that even Kama couldn’t manage. It was warm, trusting even. She so didn’t deserve it, but she was willing to humor it for as long as he stayed in the dark about everything that made her who she was. She gestured for him to come inside and he cautiously wandered inside, well aware that most of her Pokemon wanted him dead. Kama stayed out back as did Lafayette, Allura, and Enyo. But as soon as she came in, Vitanti and Fenrir went back to flanking her as she moved through the kitchen.

“Ens, come help.” She said. Enyo trotted into the kitchen and blew a little bit of fire at the bottom of the kettle to get the water to speed boil. She set it on the stove and grabbed a container of Tapu Cocoa. She looked in and saw that her homesick nights were taking their toll, she was going to have to see if she could negotiate with Boss Man to get more. Keyanna carefully scooped three scoops of the stuff into a mug before pouring the water in, she quickly added milk before stirring it all. A dash of cinnamon for good measure… “Voila, Tapu Cocoa, raved about from here to Alola.” She said as she handed the mug over. She poured herself another mug of cold brew since she had left hers on the porch, and it had been empty. “C’mon, let’s sit on the back porch, everyone’ll be able to hang out there.” She said. Vitani, Enyo, and Fenrir ran for the backyard, Lafayette barely poking his head up at their appearance. Kama was lying like a sphinx in the back corner knowing he was too big to play with the others, but still wanting to if Fenrir challenged him. Keyanna eased herself into one of the deck chairs as Allura went to join Lafayette in basking in the sun. The trainer sat next to her in the other chair and took a sip of the Tapu Cocoa.

“Holy-”

“I know,”

“I think I understand why your coworker was addicted.”

“That, and he had the world’s largest sweet tooth.” Keyanna commented. It was moments where she missed him, though she didn’t think she was allowed to admit that out loud to herself yet. She looked over at her morning guest and admired his everything about as stealthy as she could, which from a couple years of training was pretty damn stealthy. He had a mess of purple hair which was trying to be tucked under a snapback, much to the hat’s strain. He wore a simple black shirt and pants and really chunky sneakers. He had a bit of stubble on his face and his eyes were the color of amber. She’d definitely call Boss Man now, if only for giving her so much practice sneaking glances. “What’s your name by the way?” She asked. He knew hers, and all her pokemons’. Seemed only fair. He gave her a smaller smile than the one he had given her earlier and offered up his hand, though there was a slight look of confusion in his eyes.

“I’m Leon, sorry I don’t usually have such poor manners.” He said. Keyanna shook it with a mild vigor.

“Nah, I’ve been around people with worse, trust me.” She said. Keyanna then dropped his hand and took a sip of her cold brew.

“You said something about scaring trainers?” He asked. Keyanna scoffed.

“Yeah, just a little game I play. Nothing serious if that’s what you’re worrying about.” She said. She wasn’t certain why she felt the need to justify her actions to this functional stranger, maybe it was her brain’s attempt to actually start turning over a new leaf, not just becoming a hermit in the grasslands. “Could show you, if you’re curious.” She muttered. She was acting like Boss Man and she knew it pretending that she was a brick wall of emotionless rage, but what could she say, you spend so much time with someone, quirks start rubbing off. “I’ve got nothing better to do today.” He said. Keyanna lit up in a little bit of a smirk.

“Alright. Gang!” she said as she called to her Pokemon. The group poked their heads up with curiosity. “Who wants to go play?” She asked her smirk still etched on her face. Enyo, Kama, and Fenrir let loose mighty woofs. Vitani seemed to glow. Lafayette and Allura came from their patch of sunshine and made general noises of approval. “Then let’s go ya knuckleheads!” She said as she came off the back deck and wandered to the side gate. Leon followed behind her and they found themselves sitting on the front porch. Enyo and Fenrir resumed their spots on the bottom step, sitting in wait, wagging their tails. Vitani was sitting next to Keyanna, accepting the pets given to her. Allura seemed to have forgiven Leon, or the fact that he was sitting in her seat was just an inconvenience as she curled up in his lap. Lafayette was laying in the sun on the lawn proper. The two trainers watched the grasslands, Keyanna waited for someone unsuspecting to wander by. Soon enough, a young trainer came into the grass. Fenrir and Enyo perked up. Keyanna leaned over to Leon.

“What Pokemon do you think he has?” She asked. Leon seemed to analyze him carefully, almost like he had a lot of practice with it.

“Normal.” he said. Keyanna nodded and stroked Vitani’s cheek.

“Wanna go play pretty?” She asked in a tone of voice she only used with her Pokemon, something far softer than anything she’d used with humans. Including Boss Man. Vitani let something resembling a purr out and ran down the steps at the trainer, who immediately spooked but stood their ground.

“You call this scaring trainers?” He asked.

“Hey, that kid’s got what… one? Two Pokemon max? None that’s gonna do any serious damage to her. It’s fine, she gets a workout, they get some training, and they get to believe they took on a wild Luxray. A win win all around.” Keyanna remarked. Leon nodded at her explanation. She had created the game when she had first moved to Galar, her team was going stir crazy since she wasn’t running around like a fool anymore, and this got them some exercise in. Vitani came running back in perfectly fine shape and flicked her tail as the trainer wandered off.

“Don’t you train them yourself?” Leon asked.

“I gave up battling, was never my speed.” She said. An oversimplification, but she wasn’t gonna dump her backstory to this stranger. As Allura settled into his lap, Keyanna let a chuckle escape her lips

“Is Allura always this affectionate?”

“No, she’s just mad you’re in her spot. Sort of sitting on you in hopes you get annoyed with her enough that you’ll get up.” Keyanna explained. Allura chirped in agreement and thwacked Leon’s arm with her forked tail. Another trainer appeared, he looked a little more experienced than the other one had.

“He’s definitely got a bunch of flying.” Leon commented. “Send Fenrir,” he suggested. Keyanna snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye, surprised that he was getting into it.

“Fens,” Fenrir looked over, tail still wagging. “Go play,” she said. Fenrir bolted into the grass and gave a mighty bark, actually managing to scare the trainer before the trainer snapped into action sure enough, a Fearrow appeared. Fenrir proceeded to have a field day and came running back like a happy puppy. “Good boy,” Keyanna said as Fenrir ran onto the porch to receive pets.

“How long do you do this?” He asked.

“Eh, depends. Sometimes everyone gets a turn, sometimes just a couple go out. I one spent one night with just Kama.” She replied. That had been a rough night, she’d been a mess, her first night away from Boss Man and the rest of the squad and she had never felt so downright lonely in her life. Not when she’d shown up in Alola originally, and not when she’d made the decision to leave Kanto. Kama and her had spent the night running around the grasses like she was still a carefree kid. She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Why’d you come out here? You’re Charizard’s clearly a contender and a half, so it can’t be for training, so why come out here?” She asked. Leon seemed to think the answer over, an eddy of emotion spinning in his eyes that Keyanna imagined she didn’t have the context for, so she simply waited for him to pick and choose his words.

“Soul searching.” He said.

“Soul searching?” She asked. He took a sip of cocoa and stared out at the field.

“Yeah… I uh… kind of need to find out what I should do next.” He said as if that was all she needed to know. Keyanna was clearly missing pieces so she looked at Leon again, more obviously this time, silently trying to figure out what she was missing. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked as he ran a hand across his mouth. Keyanna chuckled.

“Nah, just… nothing. Sorry.” She said as she turned back to the field in front of them. Allura perked up from Leon’s lap and wandered over to lay in Keyanna’s lap, clearly sensing some mild distress. “I should know better,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry, I’m used to being stared at.”

“So am I.” That statement took Leon by surprised as he tilted his head like a confused Rockruff pup. He didn’t press the matter but instead turned back to his mug, only to find it empty.

“I should head out,” Keyanna tried not to deflate too much. She hadn’t spoken to anyone other than her squad since moving in, so having real human interaction was good for her.

“Right, sorry.” She said as she moved Allura to her own chair as she and Leon stood up.

“Don’t… don’t apologize,” Leon said as if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “If anything, I should be thanking you for the cocoa and apologizing again on going to hard on Allura.” He said as he looked at the Espeon curling up in the heat he left behind. Keyanna chuckled.

“I think she forgives you,” she said.

“Does her trainer?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head. Keyanna almost wanted to throw things. How dare this grown ass man be so damn adorable?

“She could be convinced,” she settled on with a smirk. Leon stepped down off her porch, careful to not step on Enyo or Fenrir’s tails as he stood in her yard.

“I hope I find my way back, but thank you for the cocoa and preventing Fenrir from ripping my arm off.” He said with another grin that was far too warm and kind for anyone like her.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you Leon,”

“Be seeing you Key,” He said and he turned and walked back into the grass. Keyanna watched him go and tried not to think about it too much. Vitani looked up at her and Allura slung herself over Keyanna’s shoulders, something she hadn’t done in forever.

“Shut it, both of you…” she muttered.

#pokemon #Pokemon fanfiction #leon (pokemon)#champion leon imagines #Leon pokemon imagines #he has too many tags

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reallyawesomecostumes · 5 years

Text

My complete review of Assassin’s Fate, in random points

I’d been putting off reading this book. I have the physical copy, I’ve had it for years, I just wasn’t ready, until one day I read a bunch of Amber quotes from Liveship Traders, and suddenly I was ready.

Fitz’s daughters are definitely sisters - they each “you’re not my real dad!” at someone they’re clearly related to at the end of a trilogy. I’m left thinking that maybe, in a decade, Bee could have come to love and respect her 3rd (2nd coolest, after Wolf Father) dad.

Wolf Father’s the best. End of story. Love that he’s super helpful in a forest environment, but admits he doesn’t know how to operate in cities. Love that he can jump back and forth between Bee and Fitz for plot convenience.

Paragon’s use of sexual violence (he kissed Vivacia’s boob! and threw rape memories at Fitz!) is kind of intriguing/feels earned - it’s definitely something he would have learned from Kennit and Igrot. I really liked that Paragon was jealous of Fitz (and Fitz was jealous of Paragon, lol), and really enjoyed that he got to be dragons :)

Love that Fitz and Amber are a terrible couple. And the crew of the Paragon thinks Fitz is a shitty boyfriend because he keeps calling his girlfriend “fool”. Nice.

Some of this felt like wish fulfillment - Fitz and Paragon, Amber visiting all her old friends with her long lost true love on her arm (he’s a handsome prince!), FITZ AND THE FOOL HAVE A DAUGHTER (still not over it). And the rest was just distilled suffering. Loved that part too: I read these books knowing I will cry.

Yeah obviously the whole Vestrit house scene was a big screw up on writing and editing.

Loved that Fitz called in more Skill users to help the Elderlings, and that Kelsingra and Buckkeep are allies once again. It’s only been, what, a thousand years?

Speaking of a thousand years, loved that Prilkop came back, and that he had purposefully separated Fitz and the Fool to prevent Bee from existing. Which, lol, cockblocked by Prilkop.

Speaking of which, I loved that learning more about the folk at Clerres just made Beloved’s assigned sex at birth more confusing. Because they clearly expected Beloved to be able to reproduce, and to be related to Bee, but people couldn’t agree how they were related to Bee. So that was very good for me. And Bee just rolls with it because, hey, Hap was adopted and Nettle was raised by a man who wasn’t her biological father. That was cool.

My favorite chapter in the whole thing was Furnich - we’ve seen how Elderlings imprinted areas with feelings, and I love that we get this despair-filled town that was made that way by the memory of the destruction of the Elderlings.

I needed an entire book about the sad adventures of Lord Chance. We can agree he probably got to hold Hope, so Fitz will get to share that memory in their stone wolf.

Which, I love that the end of the series is fairly predictable from book 3. Glad she stuck with that. The way we got there was kind of depressing, and weirdly throw-self-on-husbands-funeral-pyre, but I’m glad she stuck with it. It made an ending. And that’s what I wanted.

Love that Kettricken showed up at the end and dropped a casual “we are going to have another grandchild”. She’s totally chill about Fitz being involved in fathering Dutiful, as she has always been.

Love that this whole “leaving” mess goes back to my favorite part of this whole trilogy: the scene where Nettle finally asks her father about his relationship with Lord Golden. And we knew (in Liveship Traders) that the first time the Fool leaves Fitz, it’s because he has work to do and Fitz wants to go be a hermit. The second time he leaves, it’s because Prilkop’s trying to keep them apart to prevent the Destroyer’s existence. So I don’t really think the hate-on for Beloved for leaving Fitz is really justified? But I understand that people have feelings. I just hope Nettle got a chance (lol) to talk to Beloved about what happened.

Love that we got more Hap!

Glad I read it, definitely will be reading again.

Edit: I forgot, loved that Fitz died like the dog-boy he’s always been! Nice!

#there it is #assassin's fate #spoilers #book review #realm of the elderlings

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swiftwind3 · 5 years

Text

Let It Burn

A farmer...

Oscar frowned.

A wizard...

He stared at the grip of the cane.

A hermit...

He scowled.

A drunk...

Whether it was the water seeping into his clothes or his anger that made him shake, he didn't know.

An engineer...

His eyes stung.

A businessman...

He closed them.

A headmaster...

With a single quiet sob, his throat was on fire.

Were all these lives you lead...truly for nothing?

Tears slid down his cheeks as he tensed and swung with a loud grunt, hurling the weapon.

"Answer me!"

You ass...

He clawed at the wall in his mind, falling to his knees with a splash. Stinging water brushed and lapped at his wrists. He dug his gloved fingers into grainy sand, gritting his teeth at the tears hooking themselves on his lips.

"Hey," a low voice called in front of him. "Do you know how much of a pain this was to find?"

With a sniffle, he leaned back, not minding the water seeping into his pants and saying nothing as Qrow waded toward him, cane grip in his hand. "Listen, you’re in a moping mood. I get it, but can you get out of the water? You know, where you won't get hypothermia."

Something flared in him and he spat it out. "You get out of the water. Leave me alone."

The tall man shifted his weight. "Really?"

The grip shined in Oscar's face, calling him like a pitiful magnet. Batting at it, Qrow moved back quickly, catching his hand and dragging him.

"Hey," he groaned. "Letーgo!”

"Out we go, " Qrow sighed.

"Stop it," his heels attempted to drive themselves into the man’s side. "Let me go already!"

After being planted on dry sand, the hold on him tightened further. "You gonna throw it again?" Red eyes pierced him.

With a choked noise, he hiccuped, tugging at his arm. "Let go..."

"That's not an answer," Qrow snorted, shoving the grip back into his wet gloves. "Let's head back to Sapph's place. Everyone's looking for you."

Wiping his face, the grip shook in Oscar’s hold. I don't need this, he taunted at the wall. It's trash.

"I don't need this," he echoed bitterly. He turned and tensed again, only to be hooked by the waist.

"You do need that."

With a hiss, the cane extended and he roared, clawing and swinging.

Qrow dodged those meager swings, clutching his arm tightly as he tried to throw the damn cane again. It plopped down on the sand.

“You know, I went through a lot of trouble to get that thing, and I’d rather not go swimming for it. Now, come on. We're both wet and like I said, I'm not in the mood to get sick. I'm sick enough already from all those damn drinks...”

The kid only batted and scratched, kicking his legs. "Stop stopーstop it," he sobbed. "Let me go!"

Qrow's hold on him didn't loosen. "Kid..."

Freezing, Oscar sagged in his arms, and he withdrew, letting him fall to his knees.

Swallowing his sigh, Qrow squatted to his level while the ocean continued to sing and hiss around them, carrying about its business. Wind pushed past them, paying mind to sway their locks and blow some salt into them.

Oscar gave a shuddering breath. "Why can't you see I don't want this? Why can't you see I didn't ask for any of this? Whyーwhy are you trying to take me back, since you hate me so much?" Wet green eyes rose to meet red ones. "Besides, you knowーwe all know that I'm not cut out for this sort of thing. And there's no beating Salem," his lips quivered. "So, why? Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let me go? Wouldn't you be happier if you did?"

Red studied green before dimming slightly in the moonlight. "An answer to that would be I can't let you die, useless or not. The honest answer'd be Ruby and Calavera'd both have my head if I let you drown or get killed by some Grimm just because you wanted to tuck tail and bolt. And I kind of like my head. Even if it is jack-hammering my sanity into the sand as we speak."

He snorted. "Why do they care?"

"That was my first answer. Those are their words of justice and chivalry, " Qrow seemed to mock. "Not mine."

----

Ice cold stabbed and cracked into his skin, pulling him out of the dark with a cry. He coughed, light intruding painfully into his sight. "Whatーwhat theーhey. What is wrong with you?"

"Many things," Maria Calavera grinned. "But I have to admit though, watching you proving me right has been quite a repulsive sight. I am quite impressed, too, though. You meet your idol and once she insults you, you don't even try to argue her."

Qrow’s scowl relaxed, offering a glare.

"Really? Nothing at all? I know drunks tend to be more wordy when accused of anything."

With a sigh, he leaned back on the couch. “Why can’t you let me have my hangover in peace?"

"Because while you were trying to drown your ridiculous guilt or stupid insecurities, your nieces and their friends have gone off to gods-know-where trying to find that poor farm boy you punched," she barked, her voice hammering at his head. "And I got stuck with babysitting duty. Literally and figuratively,” Adrian cooed at her feet.

Groaning, he flinched at the light. "Ozpin's gone?" He snorted. "Good riddance."

She shook her head, blue specs narrowed. "Not just Ozpin; Oscar, as well. There are two souls in that boy's body, and it'd do us all some good if you learned that already."

Rolling his neck, he sighed again.

"By the gods, are you seriously not petty enough to at least try and prove me wrong?” Her tongue clicked. “Or was it that I hurt your feelings that bad?"

A growl left his throat, confusing his annoyance and fury for each other. Then, he heard her sigh.

"You know, you hurt those girls when we finally found you at that bar."

Blurry memories sparked in his head. He didn’t recall the familiar chant of drunk people edging on a petty bar fight. "I don't remember attacking anybody.”

"I'd be surprised you remembering anything at all," she snorted. "But you didn't attack them. You did say a name that seem to hurt them quite a bit, however."

He blinked, eyeing the roof in drifting concentration. "A name?”

"Summer. You called Ruby Summer. She seemed quite intent on chewing you out just before. And once you called her that, she opted to just leave you behind. Along with me. Not that I blame her. We'd both just slow them down."

"...She smacked my drink out of my hand." He nodded.

She mirrored him. "That, she did. It's a bit of a frustrating thing, I suppose, watching someone you love destroy themselves with no concern for those around them. I really am surprised how she managed to bottle up that rage right there and then. But, she's pretty much at her limit. And so is Yang. Seeing how close you and Ruby are, she'll probably let her handle the chewing-out, though."

He let out a quiet snort, letting his lip twitch upward at the idea of those two scolding him for a change.

"If you're so fond of them, why do this to them? To yourself? What guilt or inhibition could possibly plague a soul like yours?"

Pursing his lips, he shook his head softly. "You ever heard of a Semblance you couldn't control, Calavera?"

"I know they exist," she shrugged. "What of them?"

"I have one of them," his brows knitted together. "And I suppose it's a bit frustrating to know you're contributing nothing but bad luck to the bad things already happening around you. And it's also a bit of a frustrating thing to know that you cause those bad things, too."

She let out a laugh. "So, you're the poor bastard that got stuck with the catalyst of misfortune. My father told me to pray for you. And I suppose that is something to cry about."

"I've cried enough," he muttered after a moment.

"And now you drink," she retorted. "The next best thing."

Their silence filled his ears. She situated herself on a chair with a grunt, sniffing.

"Well, if you're going to do nothing but mope, do me a favor and get out. I don't need your negativity bringing Grimm to this house."

"It takes more than one person in a city to attract Grimm," his cheek twitched.

"You think I don't know that? And if you're not even planning on doing the right thing, don't go try and drown yourself again. I don't want to find you in a ditch."

Sighing, he dragged his legs, standing with a hunch. "Gods...which way did they go?"

"They've spread out all over the city. Maybe you could try and stop pitying yourself for once; give those wings of yours some exercise as well. Your life is enough of a nightmare."

He let out another scoff, lumbering to the door.

"Just how long will you let yourself be like this?" She called.

Pausing at the foyer, he shook his head. "What does that even mean?"

"Figure it out once you get out."

As annoyed as he was, his body was too sluggish to even slam the door properly.

----

"So, she booted me out. Or I let her anyway. I'd call her a crazy old hag but she had some pretty good points." Qrow shrugged. "I knew you weren't stupid enough to leave the city drenched in negativity, so I came this way. And wouldn't you know it, here you were."

The boy snorted, scratching at salt and tears. "You say you have bad luck, but you seem to have pretty good luck finding people that don't wanna be found."

"No, no. My Semblance brings nothing but misfortune. The only luck I have in finding anyone's finding them alive."

Something poked the bottom of Oscar’s stomach, making him shudder.

"Look. Oscar," he took a breath. "I don't hate you. And...as much as I want to, I don't hate Oz either. After everything he did for me, I figured after a while I couldn't exactly hate on the guy. And him owning up to this one mistake shouldn't have changed a damn thing. But it did. Just slightly, like all truths do when they come to light."

Images flashed across Oscar’s eyes. A young man that looked like Qrow scowled. Things around him broke and shattered, weather fluctuated wildly, and crowds leaked sorrow and shouted in anger.

"Still. Even after all he did for me, it didn't make it any less distressing to learn that all our hard work had been for nothing."

"Your reactions...were justified," Oscar breathed, staring blankly ahead of him as a man shrouded in green appeared behind the young Qrow.

Qrow seemed to cry against the man.

"But trying to take it all out on me and trying to take it out on Ozpin's two different things."

"Yeah," he looked away. "You’re right. I’m sure you’d appreciate it if we understood the damn fact already, but we're...we're still getting our grip on things. And I understand that we can’t exactly take our sweet time doing that. Though, I'll be the first to apologize. It wasーignorantーof me to try and think you were one soul. I let my emotions get to me that day. So much so, that I forgot that you're two in one, I suppose. While I'm..." he sighed. "Still having trouble actively applying the fact, I am sorry for punching you. Beating up pipsqueaks like yourself aren't exactly my thing, so I probably should have thought more before I acted. Even though it’s too late for that now."

“Thanks,” his lip twitched, but then, he frowned at the ground. "And if you can show me that, you can come out and talk, you coward," he spat.

Qrow raised a brow. "What?"

"Ozpin," he shook his head, closing his eyes with a sigh. "He'sーhe's showing me things. About your Semblance."

With a tight chuckle, Qrow shrugged. "Don't get too personal with the kid, Oz. I'd appreciate it."

Nodding with a hum, Oscar brought his knees in with a shiver.

"Yeah, figured you start acting like a normal meat human. Let's head back."

"Yeah," he echoed absentmindedly, attempting to dust himself off.

"Everyone's going to chew your ears off so use the walk to brace yourself."

Oscar snorted, his brows knitting together with his lips twitching.

"What is it?"

"Youーyou wore a skirt?"

"Oh, sure. Show him that one."

Oscar's giggles grew loud, and Qrow didn't have it in him to tell him to shut up.

---

i wrote this really quick and posted it before canon could destroy it tomorrow lmaoo. inspired by @xhikarixyamix‘s lovely artwork which you can admire here. byyeee

#rwby #rooster teeth #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake bellodona #blake belladonna #oscar pine #maria calavera #qrow branwen #jaune arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie

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violetsystems · 5 years

Text

#personal

I’ve been trying to take a lunch hour just to get away from work. I usually just walk away from my office as far as possible. Things these days are beyond claustrophobic with little explanation or respect for my feelings or emotions. This is the city let alone the world at this point in my eyes. After spending so much time away from America it feels like the problem is the country at large. This isn’t to say that I’m not exposed to a lot of different cultures here. There is a rather large uptick in the diversity I see every day which is inspiring. But I still feel like I have become a fixture in the background much like a billboard. A service for people to point to as a sort of beacon but won’t acknowledge or give credit for existing. A light switch to flick on and off. A manufactured piece of consent paraded in front of people as the good guy though nobody knows my superhero name, my powers or what I even do. I guess this is what I get for wearing so many fonts and statement shirts. On my lunch break I passed a man being followed by a real live pigeon. It came to my attention that pigeons seem to communicate better than most Americans. I said that out loud. The man made a howling sound that was at once laughter and at once judgement. Those kind of interactions are fun sometimes. But it was a very real sentiment. I wake up every morning to two feral cats on my doorstep. The other morning my neighbor ran into me feeding them on the porch. It was a friendly interaction but they seemed hesitant to proceed up the stairs. My neighbor asked if they would bite. My landlord has asked this too. I never really assumed anyone would be afraid of cats but it’s a valid safety issue. I wonder why these cats aren’t afraid of me when historically everyone seems to make me out as the monster behind my back. I used to be afraid of dogs when I was small. The thing I love about animals is that they communicate their emotions very intelligently. You get back what you give. While science might explain away domestication of cats as emotionless manipulation of humans for food it doesn’t explain how humans treat each other for capitalism over money and power. In a city where for years people have been afraid to accept that I have dreams, desires, and needs I’ve become a Frankenstein like figure. The one thing I can agree with the current trends in America for social justice and cancel culture is that it is confusing, isolating, and divisive at times. But serving these societal needs sometimes is not as satisfying as you would like it to be. We resist and protest in America to change things. Change requires organization, planning and strategy. Also an endgame that results in either compromise or complete destruction apparently. And when you are the only one with a plan three years running, you start to think maybe you need a new plan or a new life entirely. Because everyone wins at the cost of you losing year after year.

I was listening to Chomsky instead of the debates the other day. He had remarked that you can predict the outcome of an election with scary accuracy just by looking at the funding. And it is true that in America you are mostly free if you have the money to justify the air you breathe. But America also has a history of taking freedom away for the benefit of others. In liberal circles this is called “sharing power.” Sometimes this is justified depending on the lens you view it through. Is it fair? For all the shit we talk about capitalism and how it is evil how is it any different? It’s not concerned with a balanced budget or being fair. It’s about profiting at any cost and our country depends on it regardless if someone else’s freedom. life, liberty or pursuit of happiness is at stake. The same can be said about human capital. If I’m the one doing all the work shouldn’t I be the one who profits? I believe you shouldn’t profit at the expense of others. This is why I generally work a non profit job. Dj’ing is also a non profit job in my experience along with making music since it makes no money. People pretend they’re worth gold because of it. It may return some sort of social capital for people. But my entire legacy of social capital is null and void these days. All I can really rely on is the fact that I have a stable enough job and lifestyle to pay my bills and stay healthy. I’m not the kind of person who is viewed as successful but I’m the person everyone always needs. I have no social support network other than what I’ve built here anymore. I’ve had the luxury of opening up about my experiences here and had people read from all over the world. Maybe people who value me more than anyone possibly could in my home town. But as far as how people view me in my own city it’s perverse and disappointing at best. People point to me as some sort of example that nobody wants to make the sacrifices to become. And people laugh at me because of it year after year and call me crazy. I just sit here alone at my kitchen table thinking how hopeless it’s all become. People in America love to shout from the mountains that they have freedom of speech but they never listen to anyone but themselves. Or worse they surround themselves with people who constantly validate them and never make any sort of criticism. Art school is full of critique. I saw a flyer on the wall for critique in Chinese. I thought that was amazing. I’ve been the subject of English critique for over two decades and look where that got me. Everybody’s favorite water cooler topic to bully and make fun of. It’s like I’m the mascot. Charlie Brown with hair. Or Edward Norton overlayed in CGI green. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

I’ve given up on so much shit this last year. Nobody really cares how much I’ve sacrificed or how it’s made me feel. At least not on the surface. But imagine an entire life of having to walk the streets with your ear scraping the ground every moment of the day. Just to know people’s intentions about why they feel the need to interact or acknowledge you. There’s people who see me on the street and think it’s my problem that I don’t recognize them. Like nobody understands that largely for years other people have caused more problems for me demanding my interaction. Chicago has a very forced sense of community. It goes far back to the days of shady politics that still haunt our city. People with money and power who intimidate you in and out of situations. I have been hurt tremendously over the years sticking my neck out for people who don’t care if I live or die. The minute you stop is the minute people have an opinion about it. Like my services to people moved way past good Samaritan mode. Now it’s an expectation that I bend over backwards for everyone while I suffer in obscurity. I don’t often try to argue any of this. I’ve almost nearly just shut up and down completely. I don’t leave my house much other than to travel an hour on public transit to mow my mom’s lawn. And even then people are always trying to get to know you and start some trouble. Use you as a prop or an example then call you a hermit behind your back. For years that is really what I have become. A prop in the background to manipulate. An urban legend that has no form and thus no real need to appease with anything material. Unlike a Chupacabra I do have physical form. I don’t have a personal life. It’s been bludgeoned to death by abstractions and expectations from greedy people. To this day nobody ever really addresses me like a human other than maybe cats on my doorstep at five in the morning. I’ll never be good enough or successful enough to break free of my landlord. I’m always negotiating my right to frown about my situation. My privilege is checked at the door when I leave only to be greeted by a city that swings it’s own clout around in my face. And then there’s the people on the internet who would rather argue about it like it’s a dirty secret. I am that secret. I am the one suffering in ways you could never imagine. And everybody is just ok with it. Nobody has any sort of emotion at all. There is no closure. It’s just me week after week typing into a void hoping that somebody is listening that knows how much it all hurts. And generally if I take a deep breath and a sip of coffee I know this to be true. Just like I know the world is bigger than America and it’s view of profit before people. Just like I know the universe is vast and the planet is small. In another month I’ll be back in New York. And a couple of months after that. And so on and so on until it clicks. I’m worth more than this. The trick is believing it enough to save yourself and wait for something that actually appreciates it. That’s what intimacy is all about. Save all the abuse, psychological manipulation and anger for the stand up routines. They don’t call it the Second City for nothing. I deserve to live in a world that puts me first after all this. <3 Tim

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slayingspice · 3 years

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𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 .

RULES: Repost do not reblog. Bold always applies, Italics is sometimes.

ARIES: tries to do everything at once, doesn’t know when to stop and take care of themselves, bends over backwards for everyone even if someone did them dirty, has entirely too much on their plate.

TAURUS: idealistic, spends a lot of time trying to impress others, doesn’t like to apologize, eating is a coping mechanism or just addictive personalities in general, a tad co-dependent.

GEMINI: the most flip floppy people ever, what’s today’s mood?, never apologizes, in denial 90% of the time, their way is the highway, desperately needs a break, they have a hard time setting goals because their goals scare them.

CANCER: the literal meaning of I’ll give you the shirt off my back, isolates themselves in fear of someone hurting them, wants to change but is scared of change, complains a lot but never takes advice people give them.

LEO: no one takes them seriously because they feel they always have to portray themselves as the fun one, is actually really sad inside, honestly needs a hug, exhausted always, a crackhead.

VIRGO: can dish it but can’t take it, rushes everything, anxious, plans their future but forgets to live in the moment, sometimes ignores their friends because they have so much on their mind, talks about themselves a lot and sometimes forgets to ask the other person how they are.

LIBRA: solves everyone’s problems but their own, is actually really sad and lonely, gets easily heartbroken but tries not to show it, will do anything to justify bad decisions, honestly just wants everyone to love them but doesn’t really love their self.

SCORPIO: easily set off, will give anyone the cold shoulder at any given time even without reason, keeps a lot in, so observant that they often times find out things that hurt them, too many “what ifs” swirling in their heads, has trouble showing their true self.

SAGITTARIUS: impatient, brash, commitment issues, body issues, doesn’t realize they don’t need to change for anyone, has a lot of different goals to a point where they get overwhelmed, just wants to disappear and do what they want without anyone questioning them.

CAPRICORN: scared people won’t like them unless they’re at the top of their game 24/7, takes a lot for them to talk about their feelings, secretly struggling, fake happy, needs a plan but doesn’t know what that plan is, confident but insecure at the same time, wants to be stable but sometimes wishes they could drop everyone’s expectations of them and live normally.

AQUARIUS: gets heartbroken like 30 times a week, trust issues, can be unmotivated and disinterested, feels they have to adapt to every person they meet so they can be liked, doesn’t know how to tap into their emotions despite being very intuitive, confused, expects little.

PISCES: empathetic often to a point of no return, plays the victim, doesn’t know when to say no, cynical, hermit, is very impatient, trusts everyone too much, can be secretly very critical and judgmental, can only tolerate maybe ten minutes of social interaction, needs a lot of validation.

TAGGED BY: @pryceism broke into my house and made me do it TAGGING: @wickedlehane , @punskill @talesspin @murderousbitch

#headcanons / ooc.

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ramonaglen · 5 years

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Word vomit about what's happening in my brain right now.

To be honest, this has probably been one of the most emotionally taxing years of my life. Despite my tendency towards the dramatic, I don't mean that as hyperbole. The majority of it surrounds one specific thing and I've oscillated through so many feelings about it that I've never had a chance to really conclusively interpret and define how I feel about it. So, as any good millennial, how better to definitively understand my inner thoughts than to write about it publicly where strangers can read and follow along with me. All two that may actually stumble across this.

I lost my best friend of, 20ish years. Granted, I made the decision to let go of the last few strings holding us together, but it had been fading for almost a year and a half, and it feels like a full loss. I just finally decided to stop trying to force something that probably shouldn't be forced. I let go and stopped reaching out, knowing that if I didn't, they weren't going to and that would be the end of things. I knew that was how it was going to play out. It still hurt like a bitch.

I'm not going to lie, afterwards I had to parse through a lot of negativity about it. I was hurt that things were going to play out the way I knew there were. I was angry because I felt like after so many years of history, I deserved better. I was heartbroken that something and someone that had meant so much to me for so much of my life wasn't going to be there anymore. I legit cried myself to sleep about it for three nights in a row. But it had to happen.

I'm still not 100% sure what went wrong. I'm probably never going to, which drives my need for closure in all things crazy. I don't know if after years of putting up with my "extra," it was finally too much. I don't know if the differences in what we want in life caused too much of a rift. I don't know if it was that they found new and more exciting friends. The petty part of me blames it on that. The part that is hurt and wants vindication, whether or not it's justified. The new friends.

The new friends that I thought were mutual friends until I realized that I was never invited to join them when they'd spend time together, and all of a sudden there were dozens of inside jokes thrown around that left me confused as hell, and stories being reminisced about that I had no context for. And I felt like a stranger in the life of someone I'd known since we were children. It hurt. I know no one would believe me if I said that I wasn't jealous, but I really never have been. I'm genuinely happy they have people that seem to really care about them and that they enjoy spending time with. But I was/am devastated that I wasn't one of those people anymore.

Unfortunately, conflict resolution was never a strong point in our friendship. I like getting things out, grievances aired, and closure one way or another. They have never been able to handle conflict of any kind and usually just ignored something was wrong until it went away. For 20ish years it worked for us. Things pent up, we'd get frustrated, we'd spend some time apart, we'd forget or forgive and then everything would be good again. It worked, but it wasn't healthy.

Some history.

Two years ago, we had a different group of mutual friends. And, just as with the eventual second group, I began to feel cut out. At the time, we literally lived together and they would come home after being out with the group and when I'd mention that I was bummed I didn't get to join them, they'd say things like, "oh, I thought I mentioned it to you" or "oh, I didn't think you'd be interested/free." Eventually it happened so often and it had been so long since I'd seen the rest of the group that I genuinely believed it was because the others didn't like me or didn't want me around. I brought it up to my friend and they assured me that wasn't the case, but they didn't have time to talk about it with me, and assured me that they'd make an effort to include me more. But they didn't and it still happened. Quite a few more times. And I took it as confirmation that *I* was, in fact, the the problem and my friend was trying to spare my feelings.

So I dropped it.

Until it started happening again with a new group of friends.

At first I tried to justify it to myself that, because this was a group of friends who met through work, and because I had recently transferred out of the department where we all met, that it was just because I wasn't around as much. My new position kept me way busier than before and I wasn't around when plans were being made. But I did come around. At least twice a week after my shift ended I would head over to their area to chat and spend time with them. I frequently tried to set up plans, but there was always something already happening that I wouldn't be interested in (watching scary movies, going out to a bar, etc. Things that were very well known to be outside of my comfort zone) or they didn't feel up to being social when I was free.

In the seven months since we had stopped living together (they'd moved out to a place of their own because they really wanted a place where they could be a hermit and live in total quiet without other humans and, though they loved me, my sister - our other roommate - and I couldn't exist silently,) we had only found time to spend together twice. Once, when I had to practically beg them to come see our new place, and the other when I was invited as a last minute thought to a going away party for a departing coworker because I happened to be present when they were talking about it and it would have been even more awkward to not extend an invitation.

Finally, after literal weeks of trying to find time to try a restaurant I knew we'd both like, we made plans for a few of us to go to dinner before they continued on to another set of plans to go see a horror film. I was so excited about it the entire week.

The specifics of how the plans ended up falling through aren't particularly relevant beyond the fact that they fell through due to a lack of communication with me, and when I expressed how hurt I was by it, it was thrown back at me as if I was the one who had caused the lack of communication. Lack of communication is never my problem, too much communication frequently is, but never a lack of it.

It was something so small and in the grand scheme of our decades long friendship, so insignificant, but it was like being hit with a cold bucket of water. After crying for an good half hour out of frustration, I finally had to come to an understanding of the situation. Because this wasn't just one incident of missed plans and a tiny spat. It was a slow, two year decline, where, when looking at every interaction (of which there were very few) my best friend had been withdrawing from my life, seemingly intentionally. And I realized I had been trying so hard to hold on to a relationship with a person that didn't really seem concerned with holding on on their end.

It sounds so dramatic, and I know from things that have been said to me by other coworkers that they think I stopped talking to them because I was upset about dinner, but it really had so very little to do with stupid dinner plans. It was about looking at the last two years and seeing how much I'd been removed from their life. It was soul crushing.

So we come full circle to the decision I made then. I decided to stop trying to force something that shouldn't have to be forced. I didn't burn the bridge, but I wasn't going to cross it alone anymore, I needed to be met halfway. And I knew once I made that decision that it was the end, because even with the two years of slow separation, I knew them well enough to know that they were not going to be willing to put in that effort. I wasn't wrong. They didnt. (Except for one *kind of* attempt where they sent a captionless link to a group chat we were both in of something I was peripherally interested in, instead of simply sending something like "Hi" directly to me, as if that would start a conversation. And when it didn't, they never tried again. To be honest, I felt and still feel like I deserved the effort of an actual word, even just a two letter one. I would have replied back and given room for further conversation.)

I also made the decision to reach out to the first group of friends that I had thought didn't like me on the off chance I had been wrong. I had been. It turns out that they had all been under the impression that I had been too busy and then had simply disappeared into the hustle of my own life. A big part of that is on me - because I had met them through my friend, I had always let my friend dictate when we spent time together. And when I began to feel unwanted, I never challenged those feelings by asking the others directly. I'll own all of that.

So here we are. Another seven months later and I'm finally trying to sort out and settle exactly how I feel. I still go through little rounds with myself. Sometimes I feel bitter because I feel like I deserved better than being forgotten. Sometimes I feel sad because I miss my best friend and the friendship we had before all this started. Sometimes I just feel and acceptance because I know we are two completely different people than we were two years ago and things change. Sometimes I feel content because, regardless of how it happened, I think it may have ultimately been better for each of us in the long run; fading out and letting go instead of stubbornly holding on until it became something so toxic we would have destroyed even the good memories of the past. Sometimes I feel happy because, now that I have let go, I'm not buried under a huge ball of stress and depression that I never realized had been there during that last two years and I can focus on building and strengthening the other relationships in my life that I neglected during that time. Sometimes is just one, sometimes it's all of them at the same time.

I'm sure there will be times I'm reminded of something shitty that happened and have moments of less than positive feelings, but I know there will also be times when I can look back fondly on the many things that were wonderful throughout the many years of our friendship. I will never stop loving them. I'm really, genuinely, happy that they seem to be doing well and have other people who can and will be there for them like I got to be for a while. Despite how it hurt while it was happening, I've never thought what they did was done maliciously. Carelessly maybe, but I don't think they ever intended to cause me pain. So, even though we'll never be friends like we once were, I'm never planning to cut them out if they ever want to be there. I'm never planning to burn that bridge if they ever do decide to cross it. Maybe someday, when we've grown up into even bigger adults, we'll find ourselves in a place where we can talk about it. Maybe not. To be honest, that's probably just my lust for closure getting ahead of itself.

So, after all that obnoxious pontificating, here's where I am: I'm going to have little bursts of mixed up feelings every once in a while, and I think that's okay. I'm going to focus on cherishing the relationships I have now and learn from the mistakes that I know I made on my side of the situation and hopefully I won't repeat them. And I'm going to work my damndest to be as good a person and friend as I can be to those in my life now going forward.

And yeah, I realize I may have probably painted myself a little bit too altruistic to what transpired here, but you know what? These are my internal reflections about what's been floating around in my brain...that I'm posting publicly...>_> and I'm gonna let myself have this one.

*finally ends 500 years later*

#internal therapy #word vomit #too many commas #sometimes i make up my own grammar rules #emotions are the worst #i should probably delete this #there is no reason other people need to read this #but we all know how i like to attract potential attention #so we all know i wont #i needed to get it all out to understand #tbh i may never fully understand it all #good lord am i 13 again #drama llama

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