#I feel insane. I feel like i'm losing it. I don't recognize myself. I don't know if i'm even kira anymore

[thehealingsystem]

i'm so fucking irritating with this but dear god I want to kill myself so bad. Day after day after day I am reminded of what I am and that I can't fix myself. It's getting worse again and everyday is getting harder to just live through. I don't even know why part of me still imagines things getting better, that people even still care, i'm an obsessive freak that deserves to be put down. Nobody cares if I don't show up the next say or ever again. I destroyed everything even in my attempts to preserve it. I don't do anything with my life, my cutting has gotten worse, I barely eat most days, I cry multiple times a day and cry myself to sleep many nights. I have nightmares literally just about what I experience every day. I layed down on the couch today and cried to myself how much I wanted to die. If I tell anyone this i'm just gonna get in trouble and not actually helped, because that's what happens every single time and no one's gonna believe me when I say there's something wrong with me. I'm trapped and there's no place to go other than hell. there's nothing anyone tumblr is gonna be able to do to help me but I literally have no one to tell. most shit just festers inside me and I can't even articulate what's happening in my head most of the time. even now

[lactoseintolerentswag]

when they've got interpreting spiderman noir under a specific cultural lens at the function [picture of me going insane]

I cant help myself.. what can i say. And since you've mentioned some research going on behind the scenes.. do you have any fun interpretations? Or even anything fun about the 1800s!

OH HI

Hm. I don't have anything as fun as historical dancing, but I suppose this does give me the excuse (thabk u) to blab about Noir's childishness.

(wow putting this under the cut bc it got longer than I thought it would LMAO)

I think what a lot of people (including Noir's contemporary writers and yes even the spiderverse interpretation) fall for when trying to read Noir's character is the imitation of his idea of what an adult is, that he hides behind. Like Noir's persona is incredibly exaggerated. He's playing pretend. Look here, he's practicing.

A lot of his persona as Noir is imitation! Imitation of his uncle, of Urich, of the violence he's been exposed to. He's running around in his uncle's old uniform. Fundamentally misunderstanding WHY his uncle had been ashamed of it and his role in the war.

And then he goes ahead and steals Urich's alias because it sounds Cool (which is such a teenage thing to do jesus christ).

But like that imitation of The Adult isn't something that's limited to that exaggerated persona that Noir encapsulates. Peter himself is trying So Hard to be grown up and tough and responsible that it loops back around to him being a brat who would try the three guys in a trench coat trick. He even gets beat up for it when trying to defend his aunt. And I mean I've posted about him being a brat.

About how he looks at Urich as a Prime Example of what a strong and knowledgeable adult is (which is part of why he reacts so volatile in response to Urich showing he's not exactly as morally righteous as himself, he's wounded and let down). Whiskey? Whiskey sounds like someone Mature and Cool would drink, I'll have it too. And then proceeds to throw his drink at Osborn and laugh about it. The illusion was broken for me then.

But well it's not broken for everyone. I mean like obviously I poked at the contemporary writers, but I'm more talking about the other characters in the narrative. Mainly Urich and Felicia.

Urich taking Peter under his wing isn't entirely under the motivation to nurture Peter. I think it Becomes that, but he's really envious of that kid. He wants to see him lose that hope that he once had (ruh roh the opposite thing happened, being around the kid made YOU more hopeful Ben. Guess you gotta be good. Hope you don't die now).

Urich really is exposing him to an extremely harsh reality, and taking him places where adults are typically only allowed. He's letting Peter get a glimpse into what it's like, which will eventually enable Noir's tool of violence. All these tests will accumulate into what Peter thinks someone powerful and strong can be and do.

Then his problematic relationship with Felicia (writers I'm malleting you for this). He's clinging to her adulthood and the safety she represents, and he's young but she sees some adult strength in him. I mean she trusts him with the blackmail Urich gave her, which she really. Shouldn't, even if that's what Urich wanted.

Anyway, strength is something she's been consistently drawn to her in her partners. Strength to feel as her own. Even if it's to hers and others' detriment. There's also a part of Peter that's drawn to Felicia because Urich was. He's still honing in the good parts of Urich he wants to be.

I think the one person in the narrative who doesn't fall for it? Is Aunt May. You could argue it's just her being naturally motherly, but for someone who was about to be eaten alive she's pretty frank with Noir. I think she can see that that violence and exaggerated grittiness comes from someone inexperienced and young. Even if she can't consciously recognize the similarities between Noir's persona and Peter's protectiveness of her. I don't think she wants to see that. I actually have a short comic script about that, but it probably will never see the light of day.

Ugh he's like a cat puffing up to scare away a predator. It's fake!!!!! It's all fake!!!!!! He gets intimidated by JJ, he never ties his shoes, gets powers and then immediately guns to beat the shit out of Osborn, sings about the sandman when he's getting his face bashed in, crawls to Felicia all pathetic and sad, and he made a costume to run over roofs at night in.

And it's funny how he's forcing himself to grow up, but also really sad because all the things he's being exposed to is already forcing him to grow up. He's witnessing things no kid should ever see or experience.

Then there's the time period to consider. The aftermath of WWI, being in the midst of the Great Depression, and WWII just around the corner. He's faced incredible hardship and is going to continue to face so much hardship, and he's going to mature faster than he ever should have. It should have made him crash and burn Hard when he became an adult, and to me he still does because I'm ignoring everyone after ewaof LMAO.

As for my research on the 1800s NY that's for my own spider iteration run I'm working on, so not too related to Noir until I reach the 30's :3

Hope that was satisfying!!

[mosneakers]

Jill: Belladonna, sweetheart, I know what that blue aura means when I see it. You holdin' up okay?

Coni swallows, her shoulders slumping as she shrugs softly. She can’t find the right answer, her eyes fixed helplessly on what's left of her world crumbling to dust before her. Coni: I should have said something a long time ago. Jill: Oh, honey, you don’t have to carry that blame. There are extraterrestrial beings everywhere doing the same thing—keeping their identities hidden to protect themselves, and for good reason. You did what you had to do.

Jill Smith lightly brushes her infant son's head to soothe him, a subtle gesture to reassure Coni of her maternal nature.

Coni: But the Darlings can be trusted, though. We didn't have to keep this from them. Jill: Well... maybe. Coni: ...Sorry? Jill: I don't know, dear. It seems to me like some of those characters may not have been who you thought they were. Coni stares blankly ahead at the grim scene unfolding in front of her, deeply contemplating the weight of Jill's words.

Tycho: Why? If you knew this entire time, why did you string me along? Another wave of shock crashes over her; every muscle in her body feels like it's screaming, and she can no longer contain her rage. Like a defensive fawn posturing as fierce to fend off a predator, she steps forward and furiously shoves him, stumbling clumsily over the high heels that had earlier tonight driven Tycho wild.

Coraleye: I'm sorry, what? I gave you chance after chance after chance to come clean—to do the right thing. But instead, you tried to steal my goddamn memories! Our memories! The private things kept just between us—were they not sacred to you? Huh? Tycho: I struggled so much, okay? The guilt ate at me every single day. But I guess it turns out I wasn't the only one lying here. I feel like such an idiot. Coraleye: [Mock-sympathetic tone] Oh! It really hurts, doesn't it, baby? Welcome to my life! Only the joke’s on me— because I lied to myself, too. I fully convinced myself you'd come around, that we’d build a life together. I was ready to give you my babies, my hand in marriage, my whole future. But no, you couldn't help yourself. You get off on fucking with my head. Well guess what? You can't control me, Tycho. You never could.

Tycho: Control you? Coraleye, I was never trying to control you. I put it off for so long because I didn't want to scare you off. I thought there could be a chance I'd lose you—lose what we had. Coraleye: Well if you thought that would scare me off, then you have no idea who I truly am. Tycho: That's never been clearer. Given your reaction now, seems I was right to believe that. Coraleye: Yeah, now! God, Tycho, your double standard is insane. Are you happy, now that Erwin's out of the way? You never did quite get that jealousy trait under control, did you?

Tycho: Am I happy? What's wrong with you? Why would you say something like that? Erwin's my best friend. You know what? You’re no better than me. If you’d just been honest from the start, instead of sneaking around, we could’ve worked together to protect him—and your brother, too! I know I was a coward and a liar, but you’re just as much to blame for all this as I am, and you know it.

Coni: I… I can't do this. They’re putting our friend to death, and I can’t just stand by and watch the world burn while it happens. I can’t stop them, but I can’t let him die alone.

Jill: I see. You'd like to leave for the cosmos? Should I tell your friends you'll be back?

Coni: [Pauses, shakes head] No. Please give them all my love.

The storm inside Coraleye comes to an abrupt halt, leaving her mind reeling in the eerie wreckage. This is what I get for breaking the rules and following my heart, she thinks to herself.

Tycho instantly recognizes the harm in his words and desperately tries to take them back, but it's too late—Coraleye severs their relationship. He doubles down, and the tension escalates until officers must intervene, dragging them apart as they curse and scream.

In the midst of the chaos, Coni Breeder quietly slips away, leaving for a distant planet to spend the remainder of her days as Belladonna Darling Goth.

[sunnylolli]

Do you mind going in-depth about England and his BPD?

I would love to, actually!

I forgot if I already have, but my vision has ripened a lot since my initial headcanon.

It's a long post, so I'll put things under a read more!

I just want to clarify that I'm just giving him traits I can recognize from myself and friends I have that share the diagnosis, so in no way is this how every person with BPD/EUPD functions! (Also this is for my own indulgency first, please don't pick it apart for details, I'm just some gal projecting :,))

Anyway

The key components for this particular headcanon I see with him are unstable relationships, unstable self-image, paranoia/suspicion, imagined/perceived abandonment and a reaction hereto.

Because Arthur is afraid to be alone. He hates being alone and there has been a streak throughout his life of people leaving him or downright turning on him.

And what I see this mouthing out to is imposter syndrome and going black and white in pretty much everything.

"If they aren't explicitly with me, they're against me." (Ex. from historical canon see: Literally every single war and conflict he's been part of - Specifically I'm thinking about numerous instances in the war of roses and the Napoleonic wars.)

"If I can't be good (how he thinks goodness is defined as, which is practically angelic and pure, an impossible goal to achieve) then I might as well be as bad as possible." (His entire life, essentially.)

"I can't do it this way/I can't achieve it how I picture it, so I might as well not do it at all." (Ex. with how he gave up getting in shape because of Alfred's insane show of dragging his car around.)

He's uncertain in his ego and identity, he contradicts himelf a lot; Being proper and polite, posh, punk, pirate, primal feral animal etc. He has different aspects of himself he suppresses at different times and enforces at other times.

My favorite part to think about in this headcanon, is how in his childhood he was very much on his own, foraging and travelling, with the occasional encounter with people, his brothers and invaders. Such as France or Denmark and these encounters weren't always positive. I like to think of him being more lively and animated in his childhood. He shows what he likes and dislikes, he expresses himself and how he's feeling, he laughs more openly etc.

Overtime, he stores that away and puts on a farce to appear more serious and collected, because he wants to be taken seriously. He reflects the things he's seen and heard invaders do to his own lands and does that same thing to others.

He absorbs traits and aspects from other places, he allows himself to be influenced and altered, and reshaped and molded until he's so far from what he originally was that he's beginning to lose touch with what part of him is stolen and what part of him is genuine.

Thus, the personality disorder aspect.

As for the perceived/imagined abandonment, I see it being in many instances self-fulling prophecy, spurred on by low self-worth.

He has a hard time thinking and speaking positively of himself, and has a hard time truly believing that people actually like him and want to be together with him; Be that romantic or platonic or familial, he ends up being so disbelieving of it, he projects it onto others and gives himself excuses to withdraw from them or act cold towards them, such as "They'll leave eventually anyway".

His low self-worth vs. His self-confidence is a connundrum, because he can act self-assured and self-satisfied, but he's also absolutely not. The british spirit of self-deprecation compels him, fr.

He ends up being unpredictable in his mood, because either you'll push the buttons that sets him into a frenzy or he's going to downright stonewall you.

Lightly connecting this to his not-very-subtle alcohol problem, because I see him drinking to stop overthinking.

If he does allow himself time to think, he's going to spiral into the hardest self-loathing known to man and he can't really deal with stewing in his own loneliness, guilt, bitterness, sadness and self-deprecation for too long, before he actually begins to go crazy.

In most of my au's he does eventually go to therapy for it (Thank god) and his patterns do begin to grow more transparent as he tries to not be a self-sabotaging, insecure little man. And at the perceived abandonment moments, he'll start to look for ways to prevent it, instead of detaching entirely and repress the disappointment with liqour.

I think that's what I could conjure up from my mind about it for now, I'll reblog with additions if I remember more!

[theambivalentagender]

Hello all! So if you follow me, you likely also follow my comic Valley Echoes as well as any of my other art drabbles. You may also know that I've been financially limping along for some time.

For context, my day job is dog grooming. It's a "career" I came into relatively recently and honestly love. However, my location has recently been incredibly dead. I haven't been able to make commission from lack of dogs and my hours have been cut drastically.

I'm currently looking into finding extra work where I can that will still fit with my technically full time schedule. This has been a big part of why the comic updates have slowed considerably in the last few months.

In the meantime, however, I did want to show that I am available for commissions at this time. This is the first time I'd be getting into commissions, so if folks do request I just ask for patience as I figure it all out, but I'd love to be able to draw your requests. I have a vgen account that's still being set up at the moment.

I also want to plug my Patreon again - honestly, the fact you all give this much for what I do now is incredible to me. I recently met the fun "milestone" of Patreon temporarily locking access to my withdrawals because I had made enough money this year to require filling out a tax form before my funds could be released, which I did. Maybe it's silly but it made me a little happy. I also have a Kofi though that's updated less.

This next part ended up being much longer and more personal than I expected so I'll put it under a cut.

Anything at this time would help immensely. Cost of living is insane, I just turned 30 and keep wondering how much longer I'll be able to keep renting, let alone ever saving to afford a home. I'm very, very lucky in that I have support from my dad, who has honestly been one of my strongest lifelines for years. But I obviously don't want to have to keep taking so much of that support from someone who should be enjoying retirement.

There are a lot of expenses I keep having, and things I'm putting off. The ipad I use for art has been cracked for months, but is still functional thank god. I recently finally bought myself clothes that aren't falling off my body after losing over 100 lbs in the last year. I have to buy and maintain my own tools for my grooming job, and I have to maintain my own health, both mentally and physically. My left hand/arm probably has nerve impingements and muscle strains science hasn't even named yet lmao. And of course there's taking care of my two terrible feline children who cause nothing but chaos in my home and who I love dearly.

Even if you don't give monetary support though, I so, so greatly appreciate every one of you who shares, likes, or comments on my work. I just recently got an anon who I mean to reply to soon gushing about they love Valley Echoes. Nothing makes my day more than waking up to see a million notifications that's just one person liking each of my comics as they read through it the first time.

Ever since I was 6 years old I wanted to be a storyteller in some way. I used to draw my own Dilbert and Far Side comics, and I constantly wrote wild fantasy stories. But after going through college, dealing with a huge amount of stress, burnout, and just one random person online telling me that I needed to hear the harsh "truth" that my writing skills were garbage, that spark was just gone. Excluding occasional stuttering starts, I didn't really write for years.

Doing this "silly" comic and getting the feedback I have is starting to rekindle that spark. I have so many stories of my own that I'm starting to make tentative plans on producing in some way. But even if I never become some official published recognized author, I feel like just putting out this comic is fulfilling that dream I had as a kid. So thank you again, as cheesy and long winded as this post has become.

[yuelun]

This will one day be a much larger post (I've already started working on it) as thoughts and details settle, but I wanted to make some quick notes (who am I kidding, this won't be a short post) here so that you guys know where my thoughts are. Just as I personally also ascribe (though I do not assume people to do the same, of course!) to the theory of ZL being a Sun-King (and potential brother to) alongside King Deshret and then Remus and/or Decarabian for numerous reasons after personally researching it myself, I also am being faced with too many coincidences when it comes to Guizhong possibly being one of the three moon sisters (or at the very least, a Seelie), who I believe to be part of a 'Seven' alongside the aforementioned four Sun-kings. Which, if the returning and reinforced leaks of Guizhong's likelihood of playability is to even be roughly taken as a possibility, then there needs to be reason for it. There's a popular theory that the Moon Sisters were shades of the Primordial One alongside Istaroth, if that is true, there may be reason in there to bring her back (even for the Tsaritsa), considering I feel like a big endgame next to the arc of Khaenri'ah, is/will be a faceoff with Celestia. Any way, this is a little incoherent, but let me put down a little list of things I want to touch on, but just can't write the full post of yet. These are just my little (ha!) thoughts.

Edit: Nevermind, it got long, it's very long, but if you like your lore and you're interested in knowing how looney deep I went with this, keep on reading! I will however, be making more parts to this as I continue on and gather lore bits. I also like documenting my journey of meta, so I can see what I thought six months prior, you know? Enjoy!

The Chasm. I'll forever stay stuck on how this part of the 'Stories of Remote Antiquity' OST plays during Guizhong's death scene. Our beloved Hoyoverse doesn't do anything by coincidence, they never once have. If they wanted to do something tragic, there are other Liyue OSTs out there that will punch you in the gut equally as much if not more. But this? This is oddly intentional. Ever since, I've been trying to figure out any potential ties to it, and with the Chenyu Vale theory out and about, claiming Guizhong to be the unnamed god (female and ever kind) that the three adepti served, another tie may be created through the fact that the people from Chenyu Vale originate from the Chasm (there's numerous tidbits as to why people tie her to Chenyu; I'd suggest the video, it's easier for now!). I also think, on some level, that if she is tied to the origins of the Chasm in some way, that it was her "descension" (or 'fall') that led to its unique creation. I don't know how the dots connect, but I've identified the dots, kind of, maybe.

The insane references to the night/moon. Her color scheme, the night sky in her sleeves, and the fact that she is inherently tied to the Glaze Lilies (which are known to bloom only at night). Furthermore, if you recognize and/or adhere to the fact that the Rite of Parting does not contain ingredients that befit Rex Lapis but instead seem to very much align with her, then there's also the Noctilucous Jade (I literally just realized that it's jade) which is known to glow at night. And then there's her inventions, which are all golden and sun-like in color scheme and I think of that line of lore about the Moon Sisters: "These three luminous moons shared but one love, the stars of daybreak." Daybreak, gold, golden, light, the sun. I'm losing my mind as I'm typing this. Any way, I digress, Noctilucous Jade is found underground, in caverns and more specifically, is rather abundant in the Chasm (my dearly detested). I've accepted that I just have an affinity to characters who seem to have either a direct or indirect tie to this place. I'll never escape it, I'll become one of its victims. /breathes, let me move onto the next point.

The Glaze Lilies. Now, while we know the Goddess of Flowers isn't a Moon Sister (this'll get tied in, I promise, please try to follow me here), the fact that she is a Seelie is important enough, for the three Moon Sisters were said to have lived alongside the race of the Seelies. This might mean some shared traits. Now even Seelies are noted to have an intricate tie to the moon, and a thing that the Goddess of Flowers was known for, was that when she danced, Padisarah flowers bloomed under her feet. 'But Sae, the Glaze Lilies didn't bloom when Guizhong danced', no no, I'll get there. It was specifically when she danced, or was around them. What I'm doing is tying these flowers to her more specifically, which is further enforced by the fact that after the Goddess of Flowers died, the Padisarahs dwindled in number until they became fully extinct. The ones you see today are not the real ones, they are replications created by Rukkhadevata herself in memory of her former friend. I note this, because a similar thing has occurred to the Glaze Lilies. In the aftermath of Guizhong's death, the Glaze Lilies that once populated the Guili Plains and Dihua Marsh have dwindled into extinction, and the only reason why they are found in Liyue today in some capacity, is because of Morax' direct influence (last few lines; and yes, I'm aware this is 'unreleased canon' at present, but none in this contradicts our current lore in any way, so I bear no qualms in making even loose use of it), but this seems to also insinuate that the Glaze Lilies that we see today, are not the real ones. So in essence, when the moment of the departure/death of the Goddess of Flowers came about, a specific flower associated with her came to perish as well. Is it a concept of, if the creator (one tied so intricately to the moon) is gone, do her creations wither away much in the same way? Now to mention one final thing, is the flower that most closely resembles the Glaze Lily: the Nilotpala Lotus. Not only do they share a color palette and very similar design, they share the peculiar behavior of blooming only at night, when subjected to the light of the moon itself. Now the most important thing to note here, is that the Nilotpala Lotuses were literally created and bloomed when the Moon Sisters stepped foot into Teyvat. One could, in essence, see the two flowers as 'lunar flowers'. Listen, I've never quite liked coincidences.

Dust. Now, this is a little more of a 'loose' connection and also me slightly rambling about something else that intrigues me to the moon and back (no pun intended), but it has my mind going insane nonetheless. Also, the very end is a reach, I'm aware, we know next to nothing about the Shades. Any way, Guizhong is inherently tied to two things: dust and alchemy. And these two become even more important when combined. Now, you'll have to strap in and wait for the little 'tie-in' at the end, because this can take a little bit. Her God name is 'Haagentus', which stems from Haagenti, one of the demons from the Ars Goetia. Within demonology, Haagenti is firmly tied to alchemy and transmutation, and while I'm not going to focus too much on specifics outside of the game, it is noted that 'he makes men wise by instructing them in every subject, transmutes all metals into gold, and changes wine into water and water into wine.' Sound fitting enough already, no? Now, outside of her name, let me hone in on some really clear alchemy references that you can find on and around her person. When you look at her design, Guizhong has numerous accessories that seem to be very closely resembling alchemy keys or symbols of some kind (this is not my area of expertise, but I will make it so if need be after this post, unless someone recognizes these symbols), primarily the 'pin' that holds the main portion of her hair back, a tattoo on her upper back, the 'petals' on her sleeves, and what has me most intrigued are the following two things: the symbols actively floating around her (and for clarity, see her cutscene, timestamped, shows them to be animated and coming from her and not the Cleansing Bell), and her anklet in a similar shape (which also seems to be a unique design in Genshin so far). Now, with alchemy established, let me hound on something that ties dust into alchemy, and what it means within Teyvat. Yes, I'm going to touch on its importance within the Art of Khemia, an advanced form of alchemy that is said to have been closely tied to Khaenri'ah (and might I note: Guizhong is noted to have numerous Ruin Guards, Khaenri'an technology, in her domain roughly 2000 years before they ever reached the surface of Teyvat's). Any way, this is where I need to touch on Albedo's character details, specifically the following:

"The universe is heaven reversed, and the earth is a dream lost to time. This is dust, the most basic form of complex life." As if to provide evidence for this claim, Albedo lifted the burnt ash of the flower that once grew atop a Dendro Slime's head. Seconds later, a Cecilia sprouted forth from the ash in his hand. "And this... is new birth."

And then from the caption in Collected Miscellany - "Albedo: Kreideprinz":

"Soil and chalk, the universe and earth, pure dust and the birth of human life... There is no mistaking it."

A little tie to the creation of life, interesting, indeed. Alright, now while it's not canon by any means, it is a popular enough theory that the Moon Sisters were three (out of four) of the Primordial One's Shades. And one of them is noted to have been in part responsible for the creation of life. Now I'm not tying this Shade into Guizhong, but I'm simply drawing the potential importance of her title of 'God of Dust' into the equation, or simply to reiterate the importance of dust within the existence of Teyvat as a whole as it stands today. And what it might mean if she was indeed, a Moon Sister (to tie into this, the 'Sun-Kings' are also firmly tied to the creation of life; I believe most of this 'generation' of gods would be). Anyway, continuing!

Now, there is a reference (which I do have to note is a legend and nothing more, but we'll take it to heart) that tells me that it's certain that at least two Moon Sisters are 'confirmed' dead, by account of there being only one moon left in Teyvat's sky, instead of three. The legend notes that two 'shattered into dust' (hello, dust) and subsequently disappeared which seems to be indicative of their death, and one secluded herself within the Lunar Palace and was never seen again. Now the tale of legends recounts that the moon we still see is tied to the corpse of a Moon Sister, but how has that one endured when the other two have not? There are no remains of the other two, why not? Unless the third Moon Sister didn't actually die, or 'fully' die. Bear with me, this is where it gets very hypothetical, but it makes enough sense in my head, I'm mostly just having issues putting all of this into proper words. The reference given above is from Moonpiercer, an Aranara weapon. These little green friends had seen the Moon Sisters descend into Teyvat multiple times (we know this, due to the much earlier referenced blooming of the Nilotpala Lotuses), and at one point no longer saw them come down. Whatever 'calamity' occurred during which the Moon Sisters were said to have died, the Aranara reference that they died, and noted the way in which they perished, but unless this information was given to them by the envoys between Teyvat and Celestia, the Seelies, this would have consisted of pure speculation and assumption. After all, everything returns to dust, even deities such as the Moon Sisters. What if that's exactly what happened with the third Moon Sister? What if her death never occurred, or, what if the death was more symbolical in a sense of, she strayed from that level of divinity, what if she fell from the Lunar Palace and landed in... the Chasm? The place that is said to have been created by a large impact to its region, and later on also was the location of the fall of the Solar Chariot?

In essence, yes, I'm making the argument that Haagentus might just be this specific Moon Sister. 'But Sae, she's dead now, isn't she?' Yes, but look at the condition that she's in upon her death: she is encased in stone, fully petrified (and who is the only one we know to wield such power?), and even the dust that abandoned her, is encased overhead (again, a power we see Zhongli wield during the final cutscene in Perilous Trail without barely lifting a finger). What if the only reason that the final moon has not gone out and dark over Teyvat, is because her remains have been tied to the lands by Zhongli himself, who if you ascribe to the theory of Sun-King Zhongli, has even more reason to not let her go?

/munches on a cookie as a little reward for myself for managing to finish all of this semi-coherently, and gives you a cookie for having gotten through all of this.

[randomdragonfires]

I'm truly sorry for the hate you've been receiving on your recent chapter. I have to be real, those types of comments really make me cringe and want to distance myself from these reader/oc fics. As someone who's typically shy, I'm trying to be better at leaving comments, but then I see these individuals getting way too personal about fictional characters and it reminds me of creepy men's comments on my OF account. It's when parasocial relationships and self-inserts become too intense, and I always see the same culprits leaving bizarre remarks about Alys under these stories. It takes away from the enjoyment of reading modern adaptations featuring Aemond who is already a complex enough character. Knowing that the reader or OC will most likely be portrayed positively, it's insane how possessive they become over Aemond in these situations. I only got into Hotd after season 2 and just started reading Aemond fics a month ago, but every time I come across a reader story involving Alys, there's always some obsessive commenter losing their mind because Aemond isn't treating the reader like they want him to.

Hi anon!

First off, thank you so much for reaching out. Although, I feel the need to let you know - I've seen horrible stuff in this fandom, and even though what I got was a bit mean, I'm quite comforted by the fact that it could be much worse haha. Probably not the right way to look at it, but that's all the space I'm willing to give to strangers on tumblr lol.

I don't know if it's a parasocial relationship so to speak; honestly, I don't know the subject well enough to even see if it is that, actually. But I can see that people are usually very inclined towards the OCs/readers - and perhaps that contributes towards their feelings.

I've been talking about the unwarranted Alys Rivers hate that I've been seeing, especially since I posted the last chapter of Time Can't Stop Me.... One thing that came up in every conversation is that we tend to look at fantasy or period dramas through a modern lens. It is automatically assumed that our values are a part of the construct of the fictional world - when in fact, grooming, as a concept, did not exist at all in Westeros. Doesn't make grooming okay - I'm just saying that it wasn't even recognized as a crime in the canon setup.

Westeros is a male-dominated world, and an absolute monarchy at that. Doesn't matter if you're eight or eighty, if a prince stands opposite you, you have absolutely no power unless you're a bloody king. Because grooming was not a concept in Westeros, I don't understand how people blame and hate Alys, rather than the unhinged killer prince who rode a sentient war machine lmao - anything she had over him was purely her own, and was she was definitely not helped by the society or people around her.

But maybe that's just me wdyk.

The show's portrayal of Alys is clearly far from the negative connotations that have been associated with her here. The book doesn't divulge much. I'm genuinely confused as to why this is happening lol

Anyway - so sweet of you to check in. Thank you!

[d3athanddecay1]

Please feel free to dm or ask ♥︎ I enjoy talking I'm always down to yap

TWs in the bio above ^

Don't follow in my footsteps; Learn from my mistakes.

Below are some things about me, and my insanity.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Things about me

21 | She/Her 🏳️‍⚧️|Demonolatress

Casually Suicidal

Music runs through my veins

Rabid Leftist

Falls obsessively in love

Quickly loses interest

IM OKAY, if I thought I should be hoepaitalized I would be.

this is my insanely unhinged throwaway, if you follow my other acc and recognize them both as the same person HIII HELLO HIII ‼️��️ HII :33333

════════ ♥︎Interests ♥︎ ════════

♡ Music ♡

Top 3 Bands/Artists: That Handsome Devil, Red Vox, Toby Fox (I do like a shit ton of artists though I'm a musician this is a very difficult question)

Currently digging through the discography from: Mom Rock

♡ Games ♡

Top 3 (All time): The Last of Us, Zelda Ocarina of Time (N64) ((first game I was ever allowed to play)), The Mass Effect Trilogy.

Currently playing too much: Mass Effect 2

Currently playing these too and fuckin lovin em: Stardew Velley, Cyberpunk 2077, Webfishing

♡ Shows/Movies ♡

Genres: Horror, Comedy, Action, Scifi, Historical Fiction, Mockumentary & Documentary, (Might add to this idk ahh)

Top 3 Shows: Community, Always Sunny, The Good Place

Top 3 Anime (Shows): Death Note, Nana, Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood

Currently watching on my own (on repeat lol): The Eric Andre Show

Top 3 Movies: Idiocracy, Hereditary, Don't Look Up

Top 3 Anime (Movies): Akira, Princess Mononoke, Howl's Moving Castle

Favorite Studios: Ghibli, A24, Aardman, (Also will add to this I forget who makes the movies I like really often)

Im kind of, not grounded ever, so this isn't meant to encourage others, this is genuinely to help me keep track of my own issues and find where I should focus my efforts to heal and recover

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

ᴹʸ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵉᵃˡᵗʰʸ ᶜᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐˢ

ED [☆]

𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 [♡♡]

𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚖 [☆☆]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝙰𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 [♡♡♡]

(I may add more)

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

Key

♡♡♡♡ - pretty much as recovered as one can get ▓ ♡♡♡ - in recovery for a year ▓ ♡♡ - in recovery for over 6 months ▓ ♡ - In recovery

◇ - Somewhere in-between

☆ - relapsed ▓ ☆☆ - relapsed and worsening ▓ ☆☆☆ - don't want to recover/worsening ▓ ☆☆☆☆ - I should probably check myself in somewhere/I'm doing permanent damage ▓ ☆☆☆☆☆ - All is lost/I could literally die tomorrow

[mermaidsirennikita]

Thank you so much for all your detailed recommendations!! I'm a picky reader and often disappointed by recs from my real life friends so this blog is like a gold mine to me.

Given how much you've read in the genre, I'm curious what makes a really great romance in your opinion? And are there any flaws in a romance novel you just can't look past?

You're so welcome! I enjoy doing it. I too am often disappointed by RL recs lol. Currently, I don't know that my tastes always align with what's happening in trad publishing, so I kind of have to look off the beaten path for books myself.

I hope you don't mind me publishing my answers, because I find this really interesting.

As for what makes a great romance novel--for me, I think that big feeling is what takes a romance into greatness. Taking the love story that extra mile, taking the risk that really moves me? That's what takes it to another level. And I do tend to love big swings and risks; that does often make a book appeal to me more. But that's because those big swings tend to yield a higher volume of emotion.

And that doesn't mean every book has to be like... As dramatic as Dreaming of You, or Mafia Madman, or Lothaire. Heated Rivalry is a novel I love with all my heart, which I've re-read multiple times. It is, in many ways, a slice of life book. The plot is the character development and emotion. However, those emotions are challenging, and not easy, and I found myself completely and utterly invested in the character development as a result. I could say the same of a book like The Duke Gets Even--really, more of a character book than a plot book. Nobody does anything INSANE. But it feels like people have their hearts on the line, and that's what I want. To me, you can have a good romance without that sense of "oh my God, I am losing my head to this" in the story. But I don't know if you can have a GREAT one without it.

I think some of the BEST romances have a moment where you're genuinely like "I know there's an HEA, but I am kind of sweating it right now".

There are flaws I can't look past. Aside from the more political ones, I'd say what I can't really get over is:

--A lack of tension. To go back to Heated Rivalry--nobody is in danger of dying in that book. But people do have their careers and personal lives at stake. Even a "brother's best friend" contemporary romcom can have stakes (what if someone finds out) though... in some ways, I think a contemporary romcom is kind of more difficult to write than some of the alternatives. Because it is harder to add stakes to scenarios that aren't really THAT big a deal. You need to pitch the emotion in a big way.

But yeah. If a book is just two people feeling relatively comfortable, I don't want it. What am I reading for?

--Conversely, if the tension is forced... we've got a problem. Again, this is a tough needle to thread with contemporary romcoms, and the threading is usually in the character development. I'll use a non-Heated Rivalry example lol. In a contemporary romance I recently loved, Kristen Callihan's The Friend Zone, nobody is going to die if Gray and Ivy ruin the friendship and get together and then break up. But Callihan spends a lot of the book making you recognize how much those two value and lean on each other, so the stakes feel higher. Additionally, she gives both Gray and Ivy backgrounds that shape how big and risky crossing that line feels for them. She WEAVES these aspects into the story, rather than word vomiting at us. She writes good chemistry.

All of these things add to the tension. Whereas tbh, a lot of books I've read recently have had this incredibly forced sense of stakes. These are books wherein I'm like "okay, but you're a grown woman, why do you CARE if your brother finds out you're fucking his bestie" (this is just a tough one to pull off with adult contemporaries, let's be super real). It feels incredibly contrived, and I'm gonna be real. The only way you can handle this is with good writing. There are subpar writers who can make books work if the story itself is a good concept, even if it's not as good as it could've been had a better writer been working on it. But to me, if a story is simple, the writing needs to be good to beef it up.

--Going back to contemporaries... Oooh, boy, I can't do the "he's kinda conservative and learns the errors of his ways when he falls for her" thing in recently published books. It's not that the guy needs to be perfectly on the up and up (more on that in a minute). But when I read a book set in 2024 and the guy calls women "females" (and it isn't a demon/vampire/whatever lol) and talks about how crazy women are, whatever... Nah. That's a no from me. It's like--what's his excuse? He's not in the 1800s. He's not a warlord. He's FRED FROM WORK. I deal with that shit enough in real life to know that it's not something I want to have to fix.

--Conversely, I also think there's something really boring and bad about books right now, regardless of the genre, that feel like they're ticking Acceptable Behavior Boxes. Like, the amount of times I've read books where... and I'll be honest here... there is TOO MUCH asking for consent? Yes yes, it's all nice and good.

But is it something that feels authentic to human behavior? Yes. A quick "you sure?" is one thing. When a hero sits back and is like "[heroine], I want to make sure you're comfortable and that we're both fully consenting" I'm like... who the fuck talks like this during a random hookup lmao.

And this is FICTION. When I constantly see the rhythm of a scene--not even a sex scene, all the time--interrupted so that a character, usually the hero (which in itself feels kind of weird, as men aren't the only ones who can violate consent) can give a spiel about how very aware he is... It feels so fake lmao. FAKENESS is the big flaw here.

A really good example of this sort of... over-awareness, imo, is Lisa Kleypas removing the kiss in the dark scene from the prologue of Secrets of a Summer Night. The scene before literally just has a quick kiss--nothing more--between Simon and Annabelle when a room goes dark. He doesn't ask for consent. He kisses her. She doesn't flip out. It's intriguing. It's fine. To me, the fact that this was overthought to the point that the scene was removed... You FEEL that kind of calculation, and the calculation and artificiality that comes with it really fucks with a book for me. (See: the changes to It Happened One Autumn, on a bigger scale. Those changes ruin a great book.)

I'm sue there's more I can't deal with lol, but those are some of the issues!

[bluiex]

good luck with the sleeping schedule bluie!!! here is a ficlet for when u wake up lol (sorry it got long) --------------

"You have to help me," the young man whispered, his words hissed out with weighty intention.

Mumbo recognized the emphasis; he was trying to cast a spell. It did nothing to quell the anxious knot forming in his stomach, nor did it even work, but it told him a few things.

One, this person had magic. Two, his magic wasn't working. Three, he wasn't above using magic to get what he wanted. What an incredibly safe person to be around!

Not.

But there were other things about him too: his hair was shaggy and uneven, his face thin and gaunt along with the rest of his body, and there was a tremble about him, that every fiber of his being was itching to run the second he had the chance.

"Why should I?" Mumbo whispered back, eyeing the bedroom door every few seconds. This was insanity, he was a guest in the house of an elf, to be harboring a stranger in his bedroom that moments ago was bolting down the hallway in the middle of the night had to be the height of inappropriate behavior.

"Scar is lying to you," the man said, deathly serious. "He's going to keep you prisoner."

Mumbo shook his head in disbelief. "Do you really expect me to believe that? Scar has been nothing but kind to me, and I don't even know who you are! This is outrageous, I'm telling him—"

He tried to step around the stranger, who darted back in front of him. "Just let me explain! Please, we can't have much time left, and what do you have lose listening to the ravings of a crazy person?" When Mumbo didn't budge, the man carried on, "I'll tell you my side, and if you still think I'm crazy I'll turn myself over to Scar personally."

The stranger made a fair point. What did Mumbo have to lose?

With a small nod, the stranger stepped back with a relieved sigh. "God, thank you. Thank you."

"Make it quick," Mumbo muttered, glancing at the door again.

"Right. Hello, my name is Grian," he said quickly, "and I was like you once. You traveled alongside the mountain range when a snowstorm was about to hit, right?"

When Mumbo nodded again, Grian's jaw tightened. "A snowstorm is always 'about to hit' around here. When I was traveling, it was late June and clouds still rolled overhead. But you can't hear the storm at all, can you?"

They listened out, and surely enough, the manor was silent, as though they were the only two people breathing in the home. Mumbo's stomach churned again.

"He brought me home with him," Grian continued, "by offering his hand. He took my coat, and gave me dinner, and we spent all night by the fireplace, talking about so many things. If I'd had the time, I probably would've spent a few days more with him."

There was a guilty look in Grian's eyes. "It's part of his game. He makes himself out to be such a worldly person, you could talk to him forever. You don't want to stop, because he makes you feel heard, and laugh, and it's as though the outside world ceases to exist. There's a magic in his words, and in this place that's lethal to humans."

Mumbo hesitated. "…This isn't the real world, is it?"

Grian pinched his lips together. "He's not an elf, either."

There's a gentle knock on the bedroom door, and Grian yelped, bolting behind Mumbo. "He's fae," Grian whispered hastily. "He's a fae and he wants a mate, someone to play with. He goes after human travelers, makes them into fae too, and keeps them here like trophies of war."

"How long have you been here?" Mumbo whispered, the knocking growing slightly louder.

"Five years. Five. Years." With a grit of his teeth, "I've seen mates come here to die, I've seen them disobey one too many times and suffer the consequences. I used to listen, because I thought eventually he would let me go, but he just thinks I'm falling in love with him and holds on even tighter. Tonight was my one chance, and I've ruined it, god…" There was a muttered curse under his breath, and Grian grabbed tight onto Mumbo's arm when the knocking echoed again.

"Lock the door," Grian hissed. "Freeze it or something, spell it shut."

"Why don't you do it?" Mumbo hissed back.

Grian glared up at him, and Mumbo could see magic sparking in his eyes that kept dying down. "I'm his pet, remember? He's ordered me to not use magic. I can't."

There wasn't a difference to be made in who cast the spell, however, because they were both too late. The was a whispering on the other side of the door, and the deadbolt unlocked.

"Well, hello there," Scar said with a smile, slowly opening the door. "I didn't expect you two to meet just yet, but I suppose it was only a matter of time."

"Although," Scar's smile wavered, "I don't think barging into Mumbo's bedroom is all that nice of you. Why don't you go off to bed now, Grian? Wait for me."

If Grian's words earlier had been heavy with magical intention, Scar's were woven with it, as though there were no difference in those that were spelled and those that weren't. Grian averted his eyes, though from fear or rage was hard to tell.

He walked quietly out of the room, and Scar turned his attention back to Mumbo.

"I hope he didn't startle you," Scar said, stepping forward and shutting the bedroom door behind himself.

Mumbo took a step back, his expression stiff and cold. "I don't want to be rude," he said carefully, "but I don't think you've been an honest host. Why don't I take a quiet exit, and we forget this ever happened?"

Scar blinked, his smile turning naive. "Forget what happened?"

Mumbo's relief only lasted a moment. "Nothing, nothing at all! I'll just pack my things—"

"Oh, right, you trying to run away from me, that," Scar laughed. "That was a good try, I have to admit, but it's going to take more than some paltry human magic to make me forget you. As a matter of fact, I don't know that you need that magic down here anyways."

Scar wasn't spelling him yet. He was giving Mumbo a choice. Obedience, or forced submission. Either way, it was implied he was staying.

"See, it makes sense to agree," Mumbo said, slowly nodding along. He bit his tongue, praying that what he was about to do wasn't the stupidest thing ever.

"But I don't want to be trapped in a cage," Mumbo said, bracing himself as the bedroom door behind Scar crumbled to dust, and he bolted around him, making a mad dash around random corners of the manor.

He didn't know where was front from back, what was an exit or what was a dead end, but if he kept moving, maybe Scar would give up the chase eventually.

Unfortunately, Scar didn't need to chase after Mumbo himself. He was disappointed as he walked towards Grian's bedroom, a wilted look to him. There was so much promise in this new pet, but then again, he thought Grian was perfect once upon a time too.

Humans were inherently flawed, but enough time here would eradicate those imperfections.

"Grian," Scar said, opening the bedroom door to see the human sitting stiffly on the bed, waiting. "Our new friend isn't following the rules. Why don't you go get him for me?"

Against his will, Grian stood up, walking swiftly out the door. Scar stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Curse him if he speaks out. Just this once."

It went unspoken that this was Grian's redemption, his mercy from another miserable death like the others. Like it or not, the introduction of another disobedient pet had made Grian's position interesting again, and Scar was always excited to continue his favorite game.

It was the only thing keeping the two of them alive.

Seems I've failed my task XD

BUT MAN SUCH A GOOD LITTLE FICLET TO WAKE UP TOO OMG

God i bet Mumbo, whne he sees Grian is surprised but relieved cuz now they both can go together. Grian is smiling until he gets up to him and then just tried convincing him to come back to Scar.. Grian is forced to curse Mumbo- but with what tho

[deconstructivesurgery]

this is stupid and normally i don't believe much that posting about your personal life could be useful to other people but fuck it, i want to talk about what happened to me this year as i both somehow started feeling the celiac i've probably had for years and was diagnosed with it. two important lists! don't use this to diagnose yourself, i'm not an armchair doc, but this was my experience with this funny disease.

THINGS I THOUGHT CELIAC DISEASE WAS AS I GOT PROGRESSIVELY WORSE AND SICKER OVER TIME:

lingering stomach issues/ a sensitive stomach combined with a caffeine/lactose intolerance that i took an excess amount of pepto-bismol for. i ate fucking cream of wheat a lot because i thought it was a "simple food" that would calm my stomach. how was i to know?

a bad hangover, because after one specific day drinking out with friends it just seemed to get worse and so much worse. (i had had pizza that day and even alcohol with gluten in it, i know now). this spiralled, as i continued to get worse and worse. i feared liver failure, kidney damage, thought somehow i'd managed to drink enough to permanently harm myself despite being very careful about my alcohol intake due to family history.

see previous. kidney damage/failure. liver damage/failure. SIBO (small intestine bacterial overload) or other such small intestine/large intestine issues. ulcers. i feared every single stomach/small intestine/large intestine condition with vaguely overlapping symptoms that seemed accurate to what i was experiencing. it was at this point that i wound up in the ER for the first of several times.

a viral stomach infection, because that's what the people at the ER told me it was the first time i went before sending me home :) nevermind the fact i told them i'd been sick for a long time. long enough that even if it had been a viral illness, something would have been Really Wrong.

endometriosis/ovarian cysts/ some kind of uterus/hormonal-related misery that had somehow gotten bad enough to affect other parts of my body. irrational thought? probably, but i was panicking. people want answers when they're panicking and feel like they're getting weaker and sicker by the week with no end in sight.

dehydration alone. no other issue here, you just don't drink enough water. you're also strangely losing weight and suffering some kind of malnutrition? maybe you need to eat better. this was after going to the ER a second time, and being dismissed as dehydrated because i didn't drink enough water. i was confused. i drank water- enough of it that i should have been fine. i had never let it go to the point of suffering ill effects, but i didn't want to question anyone- you say it's my fault and don't question whether or not my gut is even fucking absorbing the food, electrolytes, and water i'm giving it? sure thing boss. my bad.

at some point i genuinely just assumed i was dying of something, not even going to lie. call me dramatic if you will but people do not take being incredibly sick constantly for eight months nonstop with grace. i was paranoid i had some kind of cancer no one was recognizing, or permanent intestinal damage of some kind.

THINGS I EXPERIENCED WITH CELIAC WHILE UNWELL:

Gas, bloating, a constant strange sense of discomfort in my guts, etc- a lot of gastrointestinal symptoms you'd equate with having some kind of stomach flu or stomach ulcers.

Bad acid reflux.

Constant nausea to some degree. Sometimes bad enough that it left me retching for half an hour, sometimes just a vague queasiness that drove me insane. I never threw up once over the span of this eight months, but I gagged and retched and felt like I was Going To constantly over this span of time. This was the worst to me personally, despite the pain and discomfort of everything else. I am still prone to anxiety attacks whenever I feel myself possibly getting even slightly nauseous now. Funnily, thought, I am not afraid of the concept of throwing up.

Bad stomach cramping, internal pains.

Awful fatigue. Like, BAD fatigue. Keep in mind, I already live with arthritis and mental illness, so I'm used to managing fatigue- but up until I started feeling Celiac symptoms, I had it firmly under control with medicine. I could barely feel awake at any time of day, I would sleep for 18-20 hours straight at times, all too often I couldn't even muster up the energy to move when I wanted to. I'd just lie there and feel like I was about to shut down and fall asleep again.

Brain fog, exacerbations of all the other symptoms of my other conditions. etc. Any mental health condition I had that I had previously had under control? Nope. You are the pinnacle of misery now.

Perpetual dehydration and malnutrition despite my best attempts at vitamins/hydration/electrolyte consumption and so on and so forth. None of that can do much for you when your body isn't absorbing anything. I also dropped weight like a stone.

No appetite whatsoever, of course.

When it got really bad, the insomnia I already had became so much worse. I suddenly couldn't sleep no matter how hard I tried, sometimes even with the application of my insomnia medication. I would be stuck awake until I physically could no longer handle that, and then I'd be out again for up to 18-19 hours or more.

[shadowqueenjude]

Tamlin angst part 8

@achaotichuman Mother is serving! TWs: suicide, angst, abuse, etc. He couldn't bear it any longer. As his sentries dropped like flies without any success, again and again, he snapped. There was no hope; this was useless. "Enough!" Tamlin shouted. "Enough of this. No more sentries will be dying." His voice broke. "Let's just...enjoy the years of peace we have left." He'll never forget the way Lucien looked at him in that moment, as if he had betrayed him in every way possible. "How can you do this, Tam?" Lucien demanded. "How can you give up? I believed in you- all these sentries do, or they wouldn't have gone to die for you." "And look how misplaced their faith was, Lucien. They're all dead, and all for nothing." Lucien bared his fangs at him. "I didn't take you for a quitter, Tam. I loved those sentries too, but sometimes an individual must be sacrificed for the sake of the family, a family for the sake of the village, a village for the sake of the province, and the whole earth for the sake of the soul." "Well maybe I am a quitter. Maybe I'm weak. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a ruler, because I can't bring myself to do it." "You're a fucking High Lord, Tam. Making tough decisions like this is your job. You can't afford to laze around and let Amarantha overrun us. Talk to me when you've come to your senses." Lucien held true to his word. He refused to speak to him properly when Tamlin refused to change his mind. He loved Lucien with all his heart, but how could he do this? How could he let them die for the sake of one foolish hope? "I did not fight so hard for my freedom to lose it all now," Lucien said, his Autumn Court fire blazing behind his eyes. "And if you don't start sending those sentries back past that border again, I'll venture there myself." Fear flooded through Tamlin. "You don't mean that." "You don't think so?" Lucien stalked towards him. "How. About. You. Watch. Me." He emphasized each word with a prod to his chest. If Tamlin's mind hadn't been so preoccupied with worry about Lucien venturing into the human realm, he might have contemplated how insanely turned on Lucien was making him feel. "I won't let you," Tamlin snarled. "As your High Lord, I fucking command it." Lucien laughed low, a sound that caressed Tamlin's bones. "Your High Lord command holds little sway over me now, shapeshifter, when Amarantha holds much of your power in the palm of her hand. You can try and hold onto me yourself, or have your remaining sentries prevent me from going, but mark my words, I will find a way. I made it here after all, remember?" And he felt it. Tamlin didn't even think Lucien realized it, but as a High Lord, Tamlin recognized it. The power. Even if Amarantha held most of it in her grasp, Lucien was growing more powerful every day Tamlin kept him. He, too, was a High Lord in the making. It would explain his brothers' desperation to kill him. "Fine," Tamlin choked out. "I will send them back past the border, but don't expect any of them to turn up with success." Lucien cut him a look. "If you give them enough chances, one of them is bound to strike gold, Tam. It's simple mathematics." As usual, Lucien was right. At last, Andras's death occurred, and it was not for nothing. When Tamlin's eyes fell upon the cold-hearted human girl, he prayed that all their sacrifices would finally mean something.

[quaranmine]

Oh boy.

So I finally got a chance to read chapter 12. I... I don't even know what I'm supposed to say. I don't know how to wrap up and summarize my feelings because they are so much. (Procedes to write six paragraphs)

I'm finding myself fixated on a few small details, namely the subtle hints at Grian’s PTSD and the who, "I don't want to do it but I don't want to do anything else," style of major decision paralysis.

The small, everyday things that the average person would barely blink at now being a major trigger was (having a panic attack when something burns in the oven) was such a small but at the same time huge thing. It was a beautiful touch, and so very real.

I'm reminded of not being able to play Minecraft or watch any mcyt (especially Grian and Mumbo, ironically) after my friends death because it was something I shared with him, and something that going back to without him just felt wrong. But it was something I loved that I didn't want to give up on, and I didn’t want to pick up other things. I imagine Grian feeling the same way about his career being a passion that he isn't ready to pick back up because it was part of his life with Mumbo, but also something he doesn't want to lose.

I'm glad Grian and Scar met. I don't think it would have felt right if Grian didn't seek out that last bit of closure he needed, as well as giving that closure to Scar as well. This is the start of a beautiful friendship and I'm happy you word-of-god confirmed that they stay friends.

I'd like to headcanon that visits to Scar's lookout become a yearly tradition. At some point, he brings Martyn, Joel, Lizzy, Jimmy, and Pearl up the trail, too, because I'm sure Scar would love to meet Grian’s friends, and they would love to meet Scar.

I want to thank you again for this story (calling in a "fic" at this point almost feels reductive, it might as well be a novel to me) if I have any more thoughts, feelings, or entire essays raving about a single line, you know I won't hesitate to hit up your ask box again.

I'm so happy you liked it ❤️❤️❤️ Ngl I was waiting to see your opinion on it, I value it a lot!!

I do not think the hint towards Grian's lasting trauma even made it into the first draft of this chapter, and I can't believe it wasn't in the outline from the start! It was added on one of my many second, third, etc passes. (I often just reread passage I wrote at the start of every new writing session and inevitably continue to add new paragraphs and sentences.) You aren't the first person to mention it. I think it's...important to not just recognize the grief, but also the specific things that happened to him. I think surviving a forest fire has to be one of the scariest things to happen to a person. Included with everything else? I think he's doing better with it all than he thinks he is. I included that based on some things I read on a subreddit for burn survivors and knew it had to apply to him too.

You have repeated exactly what I was going for with Grian's job. He still loves it, he trained hard for it, but it's very much a part of his old life that fell apart and not his new current life. It also feels so. Normal. To pick up a job again and carry on. I looked at him and knew he'd just feel so, so lost after all of this. He has a type of drive in this story that is unsustainable and self-destructive. And now that switch got abruptly shut off. So where does he go now? It isn't as simple as just picking back up where he left off on his life. Sending love to you as well, thank you for sharing <3

I like your headcanon :) I'd like to add in my own which is that Scar also, at intervals, visits England as well. He does say in the beginning of the story that he's never traveled outside of that half of the country and asks Grian if it's pretty there. Seems like an exciting jump for him to make! And I'm glad they met too. I think Grian would've driven himself insane isolated in that tower if he hadn't had someone. And a good someone at that.

Likewise you know my inbox is ALWAYS open to your thoughts!!

[cryopathiic]

'did any of this matter to you?'

angst prompts || no longer accepting

TIME FREEZES WITH THOSE WORDS; platinum locks fall softly back into place mid-bounce and the rime slowly settles around Upper Two like snow mellowing after the blizzard. A thin crystallic sheen glosses over his perplexed gaze as he takes in sight of his opponent; beaten bloody, within an inch of his existence in this sadistically prolonged fight. Naraku gargles a sardonic laugh and Dōma swears he can taste the bitterness in the air around them.

And he can't help himself. The fans lower. A second time he's caught in that man's web — somehow the former Kizuki always has the right words to lure him in. And it's frustrating.

Behind them, the ice children lament the sound of their own crackling as Upper Two's blood art begins to run amock with the oncoming surge of emotion. That flutter in his chest that he has yet to settle with — the one Master keeps insisting is just poison seeping into his system. Kill it, Muzan-sama insists. And he must know something, right? He's a thousand years old, so he must know something.

DON'T ENGAGE WITH HIM. KEEP FIGHTING.

But Dōma's expression only darkens; and stills into a deadpan he so rarely dons. It's not one of his prettier masks, the smiling, kind ones he usually prefers. And once again Muzan's rich cadence becomes a distant echo and Dōma enters that space — the one his former colleague introduced him to. A realm where colors look brighter and sounds ring louder; where life feels more vivid. Just like it had when they first —

❝ Naraku. ❞ He begins calmly, as if they were to start a civil discussion about it. But Dōma can't help the crescendo, no matter how adamantly he drags the words between his teeth.

❝ How ... could you ever ask me that ... after you ruined my life ?! ❞

A step forward taken in tandem with the accusatory finger pointed in his adversary's ravaged face. Venom drips from its skeletal maw and sizzles on the frost-glazed ground. Upper Two's hands motion wildly as he begins to count his woes — urged by a pressure between his lungs that has only been building ever since his companion left. And now it feels like if he doesn't let it out, he might implode!

❝ I... I've lost everything because of you! Master's favor, I—I've lost my appetite, I'm losing my mind day by day and I— ugh! Do you even realize how agonizing that is, Nara? Watching myself go mad in that place, day by the day, when I know I've got a whole eternity ahead of me, and- and that's a long time to be going insane, Naraku! That's a really, really long time! ❞ For once he chooses to ride the wave; throws his hands up in frustration, lets his fingers curl and teeth show and eyes widen in a way that's far from flattering. It only grows worse when a realization hits — in that moment, he forgets all about the blood bond, all about his place and task there, overwhelmed by a thought that he has not dared speak to anyone else; not even himself.

❝ And the worst part of it is I don't think Master is going to kill me. I'm worried that he might— he might let me live like this! ❞

His voice cracks and that alerts him to the reality of their situation.

The shattered creations, the flowers growing on the walls like a parasite enveloping this woman's lab from the inside — the way his nails have dug into his own palms and more lotus blossoms spawn on the ground around him. His hoarfrost is moving on its own accord, spreading Naraku's way — is ... is he longing to be ... near that wretch? To hear something comforting from lips that were made to spew nothing but poison?

No. It can't be. Subconsciously, his hand hovers to feel the bloodstained crown that suddenly feels so heavy on his neck. For a moment, Dōma lingers amidst the frigid chaos, visibly disoriented. Naraku stands there with an expression he can't quite decipher and it feels as though he is the only piece of direction in the room. The only thing he can recognize is the smell of his poison. He squishes his eyes shut.

❝ ... It... I suppose... it doesn't matter. What's done is done now. I realized that I can't change what you have done to me. You infected me when you gave me a piece of your humanity to hold. I suppose I should be thanking you for that experience. ❞ There was a note of sarcasm. Once, he had let the confession slip past his lips while sharing a cup of warm blood with Upper Three in the outback teahouse. 'I wonder what it feels like for them. Naraku? Do you think a demon like me could ever... experience that?' Inadvertedly his memory recreates the scene - the way a tender breeze had stroked through Nara's tendrils and the soft curves of his face as it contorted in an unnatural expression. A smile. So warm and inviting, just like that woman.

The smile of someone who sees you. And not just what they wish to see.

Now he didn't want to let his mind wander to the thought; but he still heard it, reverberated in his head by some voice that was neither Muzan's nor his own. Naraku had listened. He was the only one who had listened and knew of Dōma's most treasured secret; that he longed to feel in the way humans did. He longed to live the lives he had spent so long watching from his pedestal. A God who wished to laugh, to cry, to love and hate like a mortal.

How... utterly disgusting to admit for himself.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head.

❝ But instead, I think I'm just going to kill you. Then Master will be pleased again and this farce can come to an end. And, well, because killing you might make me feel better! ❞

[theevilmaninyourcomputer]

For the past few weeks I've felt like I've been in some kind of mental decline. Stringing thoughts together takes way too much effort, and I feel weak and faint when I stand for an extended amount of time. Also, my head has hurt constantly. I mean, I've had a headache for three weeks (I have chronic migraines so this isn't that unusual). I came to the conclusion that I was just extremely burnt out, and coming down off of final exam stress. But I'm a hypochondriac, so I secretly began to assume the worst. Maybe I have a blood clot in my brain, or I've spontaneously developed early onset alzheimer's or childhood dementia! I actually cried about this to my mom yesterday and she was like, "I'm not taking you to the ER for 'brain fog'" which is honestly reasonable. So, because I am incapabale of being normal about anything, I started doing research and I realized: I am so fucking dehydrated. Like, ridiculously dehydrated. There have been multiple days in the last month where my daily water intake has been one or two cups of coffee. And fun story, my sister absolutely despises the flavor of water. So much so that she has developed an irregular heartbeat, is randomly overcome with vertigo, and has done irreparable damage to her vital organs. It's bad. She's probably going to have to go on IV fluids in the near future. Anyway, I asked her how much water she actually drank, and she was like "I don't know, two, three cups a day?" Well, shit? If she's experiencing these symptoms and drinking more water than me, then what the hell am I doing? So long story short, I probably don't have a serious medical issue. I just need to drink water. Hopefully.

Still, it's freaking me out. I keep forgetting words, like, really basic words. Or accidentally substituting words for other words. And if I focus too hard on the spelling of a word, or the grammatical structure of a sentence, the words lose meaning. When I referenced my hypochondria, I wasn't exaggerating. I legitimately do have hypochondria. So since I've noticed this, I've been in a state of constant panic. I'm used to my head being a place I can retreat into. But lately, I haven't felt compelled to invent elaborate daydream worlds or internally monologue for hours. And to combat this, I find myself straining, forcing myself to do so anyway. I miss the comfortable chaos that used to be my mind. It's too still, too stagnant. It's disconcertingly silent. I feel like something is legitimately wrong with me and I'm fucking scared. But at the same time, I recognize the possibility that I am making a mountain out of a molehill.

My anxiety always worsens during the summer. I wouldn't consider myself an extrovert (far from it), however I do need some level of human contact or I lose my fucking mind.

But still, what if this is just how my life is now? What if I'm just not smart anymore? My entire life, I've been told that my writing is what's going to get me into college. If I can't form a coherent thought, or write a sentence without second guessing myself, how the hell am I going to get anywhere in life? If I lose the ability to create, then I am nothing.

This is besides the point, but I've already made the decision not to pursue a career in writing. I think I would enjoy journalism, or screenwriting (just, something creatively challenging), but with the recent developments in AI, I don't think that dream is feasible anymore.

I'm trying not to spiral, but thinking gives me a headache. An actual, physical headache. That's not fucking normal. What the hell is wrong with me??

Anyway this blog is like, my journal now. I know that no one will really see (or read) these, and word vomiting into the void makes me feel better. It's like, the potential of someone stumbling across it and connecting that is reassuring to me. So if you see this, just...idk. Tell me I'm not going insane. Or having a stroke. Or losing myself or my mind of whatever. Tell me I'm just dehydrated, and that the world isn't ending, and that everything is going to be okay. Because every day feels like the fucking apocolypse and my head hurts so bad and I wish I could just feel good and normal and okay.

So I'll try to drink more water (like, wayyy more water) and I'll update you guys. My head feels like it's full of cotton balls right now.

Later, dudes.

[sunsunsunandsun]

I'm feeling so much about Eric I can barely bodily handle it.

I should be able to catch up this week DMX - How's It Goin' Down

I've been doing so much letting go lately. I kneeled on my bed in the pain of losing my material world. It keeps bouncing around my head, transforming surrender letting go forgiveness, I feel like I'm reaching a part of my life where things are moving so quickly I'm no longer in control, my heart pulls me in directions. Everything is pushing past me like rotating doors, I keep slipping in and out with different characters, sometimes by myself. I keep having time to rest and recover and come to, somehow I keep emerging insane. I'm going to quit smoking Monday. I'm too late, don't mention it. I don't know what happened, but let go of my hand and we're nearly in November. I don't know what's happening. I can't even remember Halloween, I keep forgetting and I have no costume and I'm insane. Synchronicities blind me. Sometimes I forget I don't recognize myself. I think I keep changing somewhere and I guess that's where I wake up. I feel like I'm juggling the world, while it slides down all over the orb, down my arms, getting all over my face, while I grunt in labor.

I feel so unnerved because I can't see how my world is coming together. I want to be the Magician, I want to be in control, I want to be open, I want to be perfect. I want to love Eric so badly, but sometimes... I started getting into the practice of connecting to my emotions through my body instead of ignoring them, and when I got upset on Friday I could feel myself mentally blocking my physical and emotional reactions. It almost felt scary. I think I'm scary. I'm harsh and mean and impatient and crazy and unrelenting and I feel like all the worst in me is coming out in every way. I almost can't care anymore. I'm exhausted on every level. I could barely keep up with things. It feels like I'm up to my midsection, I have space to move but I'm restrained in my surroundings. I don't care if my family thinks I'm selfish. That's the truth, too.