#They can only communicate through writing

[roguishcat]

What books don't teach you (or how to date a wickedly charming vampire if all you know about dating is purely theoretical)

Summary: Unfortunately, having enough smutty fiction to sink a ship did not prepare you for dating (were you even dating?) Astarion. A shy/inexperienced Reader x Astarion fic where both do everything wrong but somehow end up getting it right. Set in Act II (before Astarion's confession).

Rating: Exlicit (MNDI)

Tags: MNDI, 18+, NSFW, Humour, Romance, Angst, Smut, Smut with feels, Smut with some plot, Oral (Male receiving), Masturbation (female), Vaginal Fingering, Praise kink, They are bad at communicating, Inexperienced Reader, Astarion is bad at feelings

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader (You)

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: It's spring cleaning time, so let's get those WIPs done! 😊 This is my first finished WIP for @thekindredcollective BG3 Spring Cleaning! Should have spent more time on this before posting, but my laptop is acting up again and I want to post the story whilst I can still use it (I hate writing/editing on my phone). Comments and constructive criticism are appreciated. Please tell me if you notice mistakes and typos! Hope you enjoy the story! ❤️❤️

You wanted to put him in your mouth. There. You said it. Well, admitted it to yourself silently in the dead of night whilst completely hidden under the blanket. Which was pretty much the same thing. Sort of.

You and Astarion had already done... it. The horizontal tango, that is. Twice even!

And you were very proud of how cool, smooth and put-together you were during those times. (Astarion immediately saw through your act, of course, but that was beside the point!)

Because no matter how inexperienced you were, you remembered both nights with hot cheeks and gentle warmth blooming to life in your chest every time you thought about the time you spent enjoying each other. Prior to meeting Astarion, you had no idea that bodies and tongues could even be used in such a manner. You read about it, of course. And being a voracious reader, especially when it came to certain literature, you had a general idea of what happened between consenting adults in the bedroom. And forests, beaches, caves, country houses, castle dungeons and so on.

But to actually experience it yourself! No matter how much you let your imagination run wild, to actually have someone, and a very handsome someone at that, outdo anything you imagined had been life-changing. You had a wonderful, toe-curling, lip-biting, earth-shattering, amazing time. And you really, really wanted to reciprocate.

And therein lay the problem.

The one and only time that you dared to go down on someone, you were told quite explicitly that you were completely shit at it. Absolutely talentless. Beyond terrible. And that put you off trying something like this with anyone ever again. Or so you thought.

Because when you looked at Astarion as he lay on top of you, making you tremble and shake with every movement of his hands on your skin, it made you wonder. Wonder how he would taste. You looked at Astarion and ached. Craved to hear him gasp and moan. Watch him unravel from the skill of your tongue and hands. Because surely if others could learn to do that to other person’s orifices then you… could probably manage to be okay at it.

The thought of your late-night musings becoming reality had your cheeks burning in seconds. You sighed and hit your head on the pillow, knowing that it was an awful, terrible idea.

Astarion was experienced, beautiful, and confident. You were not. Whatever it was that made him decide to be with you in the first place would surely be outweighed by the spectacular way you would screw this up.

You sighed again, this time a deep, long sound that almost emptied your lungs.

You wondered if you could just ask someone. You were sure that at least one of your companions could give you a pointer or two. But Astarion's pointy ears seemed to catch every bit of juicy gossip, every little whisper. He would know of the full extent of your inadequacy and promptly dump you.

No. You needed to keep your embarrassing secret to yourself.

And then you had a eureka moment. Because you realised that you didn't need to ask anyone at all! What you needed was to get Gale distracted enough for you to steal one of his books. Because you were more than certain that recently Gale had come into possession of a very filthy tome that he quickly squirreled away before anyone could notice. The tome that would be your salvation.

And with this comforting thought finally allowing you to relax, you soon found yourself in the arms of Morpheus, your sleep untroubled and filled with pleasant, if a little racy, dreams.

Astarion was... concerned. Yes, he wasn't worried exactly, though he was slowly edging towards that territory. And why? Well, because their level-headed leader started acting in a manner that one could politely refer to as eccentric.

This group was already full of weirdos, and you were pretty much the only one of the lot that one could call the voice of reason. Except lately you seemed to abandon all reason and instead chose to act like a woman gone mad as you made attempt after attempt to steal something from the wizard.

You were so bad at going about it in a discreet manner that it was almost amusing. Gale did not seem to notice, but Astarion knew that the cleric and the gith did, as did Karlach. He was sure that Shadowheart and Karlach had some kind of bet going on, although he did not care to find out exactly what the terms were.

Initially, he had a fleeting thought that you were trying to get into Gale's tent for amorous reasons. That you decided to take a new lover. Astarion tried not to examine the sick feeling that twisted his gut at the thought of you leaving his bedroll cold to frolic into another person's tent. Because there wasn't any sick feeling in the first place and even if there was, he could quite reasonably blame it on indigestion.

But then he realised that you tried to sneak into Gale's tent only when the wizard was otherwise occupied, usually right about the time he was preparing meals and seemed to be engrossed in whatever he was trying to make edible.

Either way, Astarion was confused, bewildered by why you doggedly chose to pursue something that the wizard had come to possess. Your tenacity and grim persistence would be amusing had it been anyone else that was acting batshit crazy. Alas, it was the one companion that Astarion bet on to stay sane throughout the whole ordeal. And that just wouldn’t do. Not that he cared, per se. But you being predictable would definitely make things easier in the long run. Astarion had a plan, after all, and he was sticking to the said plan no matter what.

A smile curved the elf's lips as you once again failed to infiltrate enemy territory and were forced to retreat rather hastily - and inelegantly - almost smashing into a nearby tree as you made your escape. That didn't go unnoticed by the cleric, who whispered something to Karlach, making the tiefling almost spit her drink out as she tried, and failed, to suppress a laugh.  

It was at that moment that Astarion decided that he would help your poor pitiful self to steal whatever it was that you wanted to get from the wizard's tent. Because it would probably take one or two more failed attempts for Gale to notice, and that would mean that you would abandon your plan, and Astarion would never find out what it was that was worth all this trouble. Not that he cared as such. But it could be some powerful artifact, or a tome filled with nefarious spells. And if he knew what it was, he was almost certain he could convince you to share.

Later that day, as you positioned yourself strategically just outside Gale's tent, Astarion strolled up to the wizard with an air of casual boredom. Gale was busy preparing supper, chopping away at some vegetables and whatever else they managed to scavenge. Astarion snorted his disapproval at the scents emitting from the cooking pot.

"Something on your mind?" Gale chose that moment to speak up.

"Hm? Oh, no. Pay no attention to me whatsoever. I'm just pondering a dilemma of mine, and I am afraid I might not come up with an answer."

"I see, well, may I be of assistance?"

Inclining his head ever so slightly, Astarion could see you slink towards the open flap of Gale's tent, taking a step back to be swallowed up by the darkness.

Astarion smirked.

“I am not certain that you can, wizard. You see, this issue of mine would need a mind that is truly voracious. A certain someone that can unravel the unravellable. Solve the unsolvable.”

“And are you insinuating that I am lacking in this department?”

“Oh, no! I would never insinuate anything.”

Astarion heard something crash, the sound followed by a serious of muffled curses and something that that to a keen ear would seem like you fell over and were now struggling to extricate yourself from something or another. This level of clumsiness was so you that Astarion felt something akin to fondness.

Gale was about to turn his head when Astarion said, “I would not insinuate anything that I could state outright.”

That did it. Because Gale could take needling and teasing when it came to anything except his intellectual prowess.

“I’ll have you know that back at Blackstaff Academy I was often consulted on all matters of things! And often my council was the only one worth listening to! Now, tell me exactly what is troubling you. I am more than certain that I will solve whatever issue this is.”

Astarion saw you emerge with something hidden under your shirt. He didn't know why you bothered, it was more than obvious that it was a book of some sort. Though perhaps you were hoping to conceal the cover. Astarion's nostrils flared.

You were excited, embarrassed and a little aroused. An interesting combination to have to some light reading. 

“Astarion? Are you listening?”

Ah, the wizard was still talking. How he loved listening to the sound of his own voice! Honestly, some could really benefit from working on their people skills.

“You know, perhaps being in the presence of such intelligence was enough. I just thought of what to do. No advice needed.”

Gale blinked.

“I see. I’m glad that you are no longer troubled.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. We are all a little troubled around here. Anyway, must dash.”

And with that Astarion was gone in a flurry of silk and smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. Making his way out of camp, he pursued his target with predatory skill. It wasn’t like you were making it difficult to find you. A broken branch here, a piece of fabric snagged on a twig there. Astarion soon found himself on the riverbank, you not noticing his approach as you were deeply engrossed in your reading.     

"Hm.. Where is the part about.. Aha! Here we go. 'His throbbing member brushed against her skirts'. No, I must have skipped too far ahead."

Astarion bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. This is what you were after all this time? Stealing a dirty, scandalous novel? Surely he provided you with enough entertainment for you not to require that type of books? Who knew you were such a deviant underneath that prim and proper facade? How absolutely wonderful.

"Yes! Finally! 'She took him into her shaking hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his pulsing shaft, her eyes asking the question her lips could not form.'"

Your eyes shone with a victorious if somewhat maniacal glint, there was a leaf in your hair, teeth worrying your bottom lip as you read the next passage with feverish intensity. 

Perhaps it was time to make himself known. Astarion stepped on a tree branch, putting some force into it to make it snap. 

You squeaked and whipped your head around to look at him, eyes comically round and large, cheeks flushed and rosy. And it was at this moment that you lost your grip on the book, making it slip out of your fingers. You tried grabbing it but it was too late. Whatever escapades the Duke and the debutante got up to were lost to you, swallowed up hungrily by the river. 

"Well, I suppose now we will never know if he sheathed his sword to the hilt. Though perhaps it was more of a dagger?"

Astarion did not expect a pathetic little sob to be your reply.

"Darling?"

He crouched beside you, thumb wiping a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you," you whispered, making a point not to look at him.

"Dearest, this is not the first novel of that sort that I've read and I am sure that it won't be the last."

"No- I- I wasn't talking about the book. I was trying to use it as a guide, of sorts."

"Well, I'm not sure if taking one too many bumps to your lovely head affected your memory, but we've already had sex. Twice, in fact."

"Yes,” you wiped your face with a swift, jerky movement, “but I wanted to do something. And I wanted to do it well."

Astarion chuckled as he realised what you were talking about. He had his suspicions when he had his wicked way with you, seeing the way you'd eye that particular part of his anatomy before quickly looking away. The elf lowered himself gracefully onto the ground and sat beside you, pulling you towards himself and letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"You've never-"

"Once. It wasn’t good. I mean I-I wasn’t very good," you admitted with a wince.

Astarion knew that he had to tread very, very carefully. It was glaringly obvious that you were inexperienced when it came to sex, even if you tried to act confident when you slept together. When he had stepped out from behind the tree the night when he bedded you for the first time, you walked towards him like a newborn doe, legs unsteady, hands shaking, a bright blush on your cheeks. You were excited and nervous in equal measures, and that made him both irritated and intruiged.

Therefore, Astarion chose not to tease you but took a deep breath, swallowed whatever witty comment was on his tongue, and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your temple.

Bringing his lips to your ear, Astarion spoke in a low tone, "Darling, make of it what you will, but a student is only as good as their teacher."

Hearing your heartbeat speed up, Astarion smirked. You turned so you were looking straight at him.

Fingers clasping your chin, he pulled you up enough to brush cool lips against your own, tongue flicking out to wet soft flesh.

"Would you like me to teach you?”

“Yes.”

“Then be a good girl for me and follow my instructions.”

Having spotted a rock with a deep indent that would allow one to take a seat somewhat comfortably, Astarion rose and moved towards it, motioning you to follow.

“On your knees, my sweet,” he purred, undoing the laces of his trousers as he took his place. Looking up, Astarion’s eyes widened as he found that you were completely bare from the waist up, your exposed breasts level with his crotch.

"Feeling a little warm?" He cleared his throat.

"No. This is plan B."

"I need you to explain your thinking there."

"Well, if you don’t enjoy my mouth, these might come in handy."

After all, you've read enough fiction over the years to know how one can make use of this particular part of your anatomy.

"You mean-"

"Yes."

"I see."

Astarion felt himself grow harder still and willed his rebellious cock to cool it. He was supposed to be the one doing the seducing. Not the one who was most certainly a virgin mere weeks ago. Except suddenly you seemed to turn the tables on him and he, the suave and experienced rogue that bedded thousands, wanted you to touch him. The fact that he did not feel the usual wave of self-loathing and disgust was odd yet very welcome.

Your hands brushed against the skin of his thighs, so warm and gentle. So unlike the touch he was used to. Astarion looked into your eyes and felt himself relax at seeing the genuine excitement you were trying to be less obvious about.

It was sweet. You were sweet. You wouldn’t hurt him, or force him, of belittle him. And knowing with the utmost certainty that you'd stop if he asked you to made Astarion put his hand on top of yours. His cool hand gripping yours gently, Astarion delighted in the way you swallowed nervously when he slowly guided your hands up.

"Start gently. No teeth."

"Wasn’t going to use them."

"Don't try to take it all in at once."

"Don’t think I can anyway."

"And darling?" Astarion said, noticing the intense resolve on your face. "Please don't overthink this."

"Okay," you nodded.

And then you put your tongue on him and licked a long, wet trail, giving the tip an experimental suck. Astarion's brain promptly short-circuited. The second suck was a touch more insistent, Astarion making a strangled sound that was most definitely not a whine. Emboldened by his reactions, you took more of him in, moving your mouth up and down the shaft, trying to establish a pace.

Astarion's eyes slammed shut and he bit his bottom lip. He had forgotten how good this could feel. Hells, he could not for the (un)life of him remember the last time someone offered to pleasure him in such a way. His experiences of sex, at least from what he could remember, were all about giving at best. At worst? Well...

Astarion scowled, willing himself to stay in the present, focusing on the licks and sucks, and your hand stroking the base. The sensitive head pulsed from the attention. Astarion groaned when he felt your fingers wrap around the base, stroking back and forth along the section where your mouth couldn’t reach. His eyes rolled upwards, his hips moving involuntarily to meet your mouth.

And then his dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag. It was then that Astarion remembered that he was meant to be instructing and you, in your eagerness, had to be guided enough not to hurt yourself. Perhaps your attention had to be otherwise occupied.

"Darling," Astarion purred, pushing you back gently, making his cock slide out of your mouth with a wet sound. "There is something else I'd like you to do for me."

"Sure, I'd do anything to you."

"You mean for me?"

You shrugged, making him bark a surprised laugh. Oh, you were fun! Perhaps not always on purpose, but still. Much more fun than most, at least in his experience.

"I'd like you to take the rest of your clothes off and touch yourself."

At your dubious look, he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'd enjoy seeing you pleasure yourself whilst you pleasure me."

"Um..."

"Good girl."

You obeyed, undoing the ties with shaking fingers and taking your clothes off, nervous yet giddy with excitement. Looking up, you saw Astarion watching you intently, a lazy half smile on his face.

He thought he was all that, did he? Well, you read enough naughty novels that you purchased from Sharess' - hood on, not making eye contact and trying to get out there as fast as possible - to have plenty of theoretical knowledge about how these things got done! And sure, perhaps you didn’t have lovers before Astarion. But you had years to explore your body well enough to know what got you going.

Astarion watched as you placed your hand on your breast and then trailed your fingers down, the descent slow and teasing. As a rule, Astarion didn’t enjoy seeing others pleasure themselves. He enjoyed feeling what little power he had over people, enjoyed how they would grovel and writhe just so he'd grant them a moment of bliss, enjoyed seeing them say and do whatever it was that he wanted because please, please, please.

Sex was a tool. Sex was a weapon. Sex was a way to get what he wanted. And he would damn well use all the tricks in his arsenal to have you where he wanted you.

Except a peculiar thing happened. He actually wanted you. Which was becoming more apparent by the second as your fingers pushed your underwear aside to bare yourself enough for Astarion to be getting quite a show.

He could see, smell and all but taste the way your body reacted to touch and to being watched. It made his fangs itch. And then you threw your head back, baring your neck ever so deliciously as you let out a wanton moan. His body jerked towards you, and it took all his willpower not to sink his teeth into inviting flesh.

No, he'd always ask before biting.

"Darling, may I?" Astarion said in a guttural voice he barely recognised.

Your 'yes' came out as an almost plosive sound that was half breathed and half forced out. He sighed appreciatively, so close to getting what he craved. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he put his hands on your shoulders and leaned in, nose trailing along your neck, tongue lapping at the twin marks that would most definitely become permanent. The thought had his hips thrusting forward, cock hard and leaking.

Not wasting another moment, Astarion sank his fangs into your neck, pulling you towards him. He could feel your approaching orgasm, taste your pleasure, making it his own.

"Astarion," you whispered, eyes fluttering shut, the hand not working you into a frensy rising to brush back soft curls. Your feather-light touch on his ears made him groan as he drank, a trail of blood escaping and trickling down between your bodies.

"Astarion I-" the rest was swallowed by his mouth as he crashed his lips against yours. You could taste your blood and then felt his fingers join yours before dipping into you and-oh.

Strong, and sure, and experienced, his fingers had you panting and gasping into his mouth. He moved and you tried to grind against him, but steady hands kept you in place. Your orgasm hit you hard, Astarion not relenting as you rode his fingers.

You two broke apart and Astarion grinned. Yes, judging by your glazed eyes and swollen lips, his plan was working as brilliantly as he hoped.

"Was this fun, my sweet?" He let your head fall onto his shoulder, watching your chest rise and fall as your breath escaped you in wheezing puffs.

"Very," you nodded and licked your lips, trying to steady yourself. "And now it's your turn."

Astarion blinked.

"Mine?"

"Yes. I mean, unless you didn’t like it."

Astarion found that for the first time in his life he was unsure what to say. Because he didn’t actually expect you to continue. Because he was absolutely certain that you just wanted to play with his cock for a while before chasing your own release.

"I did like it," he admitted, looking away in a manner that could be described as uncharacteristically shy, "but you don't have to-"

"I want to," you interrupted. "I wanted to for a long time. If you allow it, that is," you murmured into the elf’s ear, sending a delicious shudder through him.

Your earnest expression had Astarion considering it. That and the fact your parted, moist lips looked wickedly inviting. You wrapped your fingers around his cock, applying gentle pressure as you gave it a few slow teasing strokes.

"You up for it, lover?" You teased.

"Hah! That’s terrible. Don’t do puns, dear.”

“Because you’d much rather I do you?”

“You know that terrible jokes account for one in two murders?��

“Is that a real statistic?”

“It might as well be.”

Looking at you, Astarion felt a wave of something that another, better emotionally equipped being, would call fondness. And then he felt a wave of something that he recognised all too well. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the way your hand moved over his hardness. And then he felt warm heat of your mouth and your appreciative sigh as you were finally given free rein, getting to do whatever you wanted to him as Astarion submitted to your ministrations.  

He knew that he wouldn’t last long. Not with your blood coursing through him and the warmth from your mouth seeping into his flesh and electrifying his nerves. He tried not to arch his back, seeking more friction, more of you, just more of it all. Because- hells!

You chose that moment to palm his balls, rolling them teasingly as Astarion fought with himself not to thrust and roll his hips. His breath caught in his throat and he released a needy, half-chocked sound as you slowed to trace a lazy path up the spit-sleeked hardness, sending already sensitive nerves into overdrive.

“Darling, I won’t last long,” Astarion whimpered.

Your hum of appreciation just about sent him over the edge.

And then you went faster, as if getting greedier by the minute. Astarion’s words came out as whimpering pleas that did not make sense to his own ears. He gasped and whimpered as his pleasure built.

Whimpers turned into groans and those turned into silence as his mouth opened, deadly fangs flashing,  as your other hand ventured further to find that spot and pressed into it with each movement. His orgasm swelled and broke, Astarion not even having the chance to ask where you’d want him to cum. You tried to swallow, but were rather unprepared, almost chocking then pulling back enough to let what you couldn’t manage trail down your hand and his body.

Astarion took greedy gulps of air that he didn’t need, eyes still closed, feeling boneless and lazy, and not wanting to move. He could feel you shift and next you started wiping him clean with a soft cloth, movements slow and careful. This wasn’t the first time you cared for him in such a way, but he still didn’t expect you to want to do something like that, not really sure how to react. And so Astarion chose to just stay silent and enjoy it while it lasted. Because for one reason or another, he was certain that whatever this was would not last.

“Did- Did I do well?”

He chuckled, “Isn’t it obvious? Or perhaps you’d like me to sing praises and commend you on your skill like they would in those novels you like, hm?”

One ruby eye cracked open and Astarion gave you a slow, languid smile.

“If you were in my novel, you’d definitely be more gallant,” you huffed.

“Apologies. I’ll try better next time.”

“Next time? You mean I get to do it again?”

“Can’t imagine why you are the one excited about it, but yes. You get to do it again.”

Your victorious, brilliant smile had him looking away, the tips of his ears tinged pink. He felt conflicted about the attention, confused as to why you’d feel so obviously happy at him being satisfied.

Astarion did not like not being able to figure people out. Not being able to predict what one would do, not knowing what came next had the elf stiffening involuntarily.

Red eyes watched you intently as you put your smallclothes on. The vampire was eerily still as you stumbled about, suddenly bashful and trying to cover yourself up as quickly as possible as you threw furtive looks in his direction. Then he took a breath, as if suddenly remembering that some would deem it a necessity and willed his body to obey him. Lips curving, a smile plastered on his face, Astarion rose in a smooth, elegant movement, still completely bare and seemingly not bothered by being nude out in the open.

A finger under your chin, he turned your head and pecked your lips.

“Thank you, darling. I had a simply marvellous time. How good of you to treat me so.”

His words didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of melting into a pile of feminine goo, as one should have done when being in the proximity of a gorgeous creature, you frowned and nodded.

“Yes. I’m glad. But I think I have to go.”

“Really? Have to?”

“No. I want to go.”

Astarion let his hand drop and watched you retreat with surprising haste, confused about what had just happened. It felt as if he had crossed some unspoken line, but he was unsure when and where he did so. Astarion dressed quickly, with jerky movements, tugging his shirt on angrily. Anger came naturally. Anger was easier. He did not know who he was angry at – you or himself – but somehow it made him feel better. Taking a different path to the one you chose to make your retreat, Astarion ran. Hunting something down and tearing into its throat with his fangs. Watching it thrust about as he bled it dry. He needed to at least sate his hunger if he couldn’t settle his mind.

Evening came and went with neither you nor Astarion uttering a word to each other. The next day was much the same. You communicated through others, but never directly.

On day six, you approached Astarion. He was reading, casually reclining against a tree, the wind playing with his curls and making them dance so beautifully that you almost missed a step and had to quickly catch yourself. Falling forward and kissing the ground would definitely put you in a state not conducive to having any conversation at all.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to just go for it. There was very little you could do to make the situation worse.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out.

"Beg pardon?" Astarion looked up with a cold expression on his handsome face.

Not a good start, but you decided to soldier on.

"I want to apologise."

"Do you know what you are apologising for?" Astarion closed his book and set it aside without breaking eye contact.

"I'm not sure exactly. I don't know what I did that day by the river, to make you look at me with such disgust-"

Astarion made a noise at the back of his throat which could be interpreted in many ways, and you took it as confirmation of your worst fears.

"And I don't know how to fix it! And maybe a simple apology isn't enough, but I couldn’t come up with anything better."

You had thought of how this conversation could go at length, tossing and turning late into the night. You had hoped to sound less pathetic, less needy. But perhaps being honest was the best way to go about it.

"I envy your easy confidence, you know. I never had that. Not once in my life. And it's not about my looks. I just don’t feel like I have the guts to talk about my wants. And I've never felt that I even wanted to… until you. And I'm not asking you to understand or to accept it. But I can't bear you to look at me that way again, like you can't wait to get away from me. So, I want to apologise. But I need you to tell me what happened,” you swallowed nervously, “please."

There was an awkward pause, a moment where Astarion didn't know what to do, what to say when faced with such sincerity and raw emotion. How would he even begin to explain what happened when he had spent centuries trying to avoid thinking about it for his personal sanity?

"I can't,” he began carefully, brows furrowed, fingers twitching. “At least I'm not sure if I can. But,” he paused, word coming out breath-heavy, “that, whatever that was, had nothing to do with you."

"Oh.” You looked away, whatever courage you summoned earlier used up at this point. “I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

Astarion rose in one swift movement. You were a breath away from each other, and yet not touching.

"I meant what I said that day. I did enjoy it. Being with you feels... like something else. Something new."

Untarnished, unspoilt.

"But it did bring up some less than pleasant memories."

"I'm sorry."

"Will you stop apologising, infuriating woman?" Astarion demanded sharply.

"I'm so-"

Astarion knew only one effective way of silencing you, so he pressed his lips firmly against yours, one hand finding itself in your hair, the other on the swell of your hip. You felt a tingle dance up your spine when Astarion coaxed your lips to open, his tongue slipping in to tangle with yours. You moaned into the kiss, the tension and worries of the past six days melting away until you felt like you were floating.

Remembering that you did, in fact, need to breathe, Astarion broke the kiss.

"No more apologies," Astarion admonished you gently. "Especially when you've done nothing wrong."

You nodded silently and quiet enveloped you both, Astarion looking at you with warm intensity as you ran your fingers through his soft, silver curls.

"And now, my dear," Astarion decided to finally ask you the question that has been on his mind for the past six days, "I believe we are overdue for a discussion of a different type. Because I simply can't go on another moment without knowing where you learned of plan B."

And this was when you told Astarion about your most prized possession - the library in the basement of your home with enough tomes to sink a ship. Astarion had never been more eager to get back to the Gate.

He simply had to survive long enough to see this. And then have you read to him from each one. Preferably naked.

💖 Tag list 💖:

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[selenepsyche]

Using the Vertex Persona Chart as a Relocation Chart

In a birth chart, the vertex is a point in the chart that represents fated situations and encounters. Basically, there's no way around it, whether it's a good or bad encounter. No matter what path you are on, you will end up in that situation or meeting that certain someone. I apologize if this sounds scary. This is a very sensitive point and moves fast in a birth chart, so you need your accurate birth time to calculate yours.

Persona charts offer deeper looks into the placements in our birth charts, to get a better understanding of other placements besides the sun. In persona charts, the point or planet is the star and everything else is revolving around it. A vertex persona chart can show you a deeper look of what's fated to occur in your life.

I saw an astrology post on here from a while ago about how you can use your vertex persona chart as a relocation chart and astrocartography chart to see what you are meant to experience in certain locations. Unfortunately, I lost the damn post, but the credit for this idea goes to them. I will tag them when I find it again.

But the idea makes a lot of sense. When I look at mine, I can now see why I was drawn to certain places, why I struggle a bit in my current location, why I have a lot of friends from certain locations, etc.

But first, let me teach you how to generate your vertex persona chart as a birth chart to get your relocation chart and astrocartography chart.

I didn't feel like typing it all out and taking many screenshots, so hopefully this video will help y'all!

A Few Examples

Venus in the 1st House - This location will attract beauty, love, and admiration into your environment. You will embody Venusian qualities more strongly when you move here. Relationships, personal style, and self worth will play a big role in your experience in this location. It can also indicate a boost in attractiveness, social appeal, and a desire to form new connections.

North Node in the 8th House - Your growth in this location is meant to revolve around deep emotional and financial transformations. You will be pushed towards intense experiences that may involve relationships, shared finances, occult studies, or psychological growth. You could meet people who challenge you to face your fears, embrace vulnerability, and evolve spiritually. Inheritances, joint finances, and powerful connections will change your life path.

Jupiter in the 10th House - This location will expand your reputation and career significantly. This will bring major opportunities, status growth, and leadership roles. You will become more well known, respected, and fortunate in your career. You could achieve something big in the public light.

Sun in the 3rd House - Your identity will be tied to learning, networking, speaking, and writing. You will become involved in media, education, or build strong social circles in your local community. You could be active in your immediate environment, commuting and traveling often. This could also indicate a stronger bond with siblings or neighbors in this new location.

Mars in the 11th House - A lot of your energy will be directed towards friendships, social movements, and group projects. You may become involved in activism, networking, and building a strong social presence (could do it online too). There could be conflicts or competitive dynamics within friend groups, but the potential for leadership is big. You may feel driven to pursue big goals through collaborations or technology-related ventures.

Thank you for reading! I will create more parts in the future to do more detailed explanations for placements in the vertex persona chart being used as a relocation chart. In the meantime, if you have questions, feel free to ask of course!

written by: @selenepsyche. do not steal or i'll smite you. entertainment purposes only.

[novlr]

How do I write a dream sequence that actually feels dreamy and not just confusing or random? I want it to make sense in the story but still have that weird, surreal vibe dreams have.

Before writing a dream sequence, ask yourself: Why is this dream important?

A strong dream sequence serves a narrative purpose. It either reveals something critical about the character or moves the plot forward. For example, it might:

Highlight a character’s inner conflict, such as self-doubt or guilt.

Offer insight into a character’s fears, desires, or memories.

Foreshadow future events.

Explore the story’s themes.

Present an epiphany or realisation that changes the narrative direction.

When you define the purpose of the dream, you give it meaning and ensure it doesn’t feel like a random, disconnected scene.

Vivid imagery and sensory details

Dreams are often hyper-real or surreal. To truly immerse readers, fill your sequences with vivid imagery. Describe not just what the character sees, but also what they hear, smell, and feel. For example:

The air might feel oppressively heavy, as if the character is moving through water.

Colours could be unnaturally bright or pulsing, creating a sense of unease or wonder.

Sounds may echo strangely, or voices may change tones mid-sentence.

Sensory details are your best friend when crafting dreams. They help you draw readers into the scene, making the dream feel almost tangible without being constrained to what is possible.

The power of symbolism

Dreams are often symbolic, reflecting a character’s subconscious thoughts and emotions. A dream sequence offers a fantastic opportunity to use metaphors and symbols to deepen your narrative. For instance:

A crumbling staircase may represent a character’s feelings of insecurity.

A recurring image, like a locked door, could hint at a secret the character is repressing.

Objects or people in the dream might represent aspects of the character’s personality or unresolved relationships.

By embedding symbols, you can subtly communicate deeper layers of meaning to your readers while building suspense without having to state things outright.

Heightened emotion

In dreams, emotions are often exaggerated. A minor embarrassment can swell into overwhelming shame, and a fleeting joy might feel like euphoria. Use this to your advantage to explore your character’s emotional state. For instance:

A character struggling with grief might dream of a loved one, only for them to disappear when approached.

A character racked with guilt could find themselves pursued by shadowy figures.

Striking a balance between disorientation and logic

Dreams are naturally disorienting because they don’t follow the logical flow of reality. You can introduce elements like sudden scene changes, nonsensical dialogue, or impossible physics to create a truly dreamlike experience. For example:

A character might start at a family dinner, only to inexplicably swimming in an ocean of stars.

A trusted friend might appear with the face of a stranger.

Despite the inherent chaos of dreams, your sequence should still have some degree of narrative coherence. A good rule of thumb is to maintain a logical thread that allows the dream to fulfil its narrative purpose, even if the details are illogical.

Establishing atmosphere

The tone and atmosphere of your dream sequence should align with its purpose. Focus on creating a specific emotional response:

For a nightmare, use eerie, oppressive details, like a pulsating fog or distorted, echoing voices.

For a whimsical dream, evoke wonder with surreal and magical details, such as floating landscapes and shimmering light.

Choose your atmosphere carefully to enhance the emotional impact of the scene.

Types of dream sequences to explore

There are many types of dream sequences, and each serves a unique purpose. Here are some of the most common:

Foreshadowing dreams: These hint at future events, creating suspense or intrigue.

Nightmares: These reveal a character’s fears or anxieties.

Fantasy dreams: These involve magical or surreal elements, and are often used to explore themes, symbols, or metaphors.

Recurring dreams: These underscore unresolved issues or patterns in a character’s life.

Lucid dreams: These allow the dreamer to be aware they’re dreaming and possibly influence the dream’s outcome.

Realisation dreams: These provide moments of clarity or epiphany for the character.

Internal conflict dreams: These visually showcase a character’s inner turmoil, providing a unique way to “show, not tell.”

Linked dreams: These connect two or more characters through shared dreamscapes.

Keep it brief and meaningful

Dream sequences should enhance your story, not derail it. While they offer a chance to be wildly creative, keep them concise and focused. Avoid overloading readers with too much detail or overly prolonged scenes. Your audience should leave the dream sequence full or curiosity, not overwhelmed.

Seamlessly transition in and out

Transitions are crucial for dream sequences. Start with subtle hints, like a sound, a sensation, or a surreal visual that cues readers into the shift from reality to dream. Similarly, exit the dream gracefully, creating a smooth return to the waking world. This ensures that readers are not jarred out of the story.

Writing tips for a dreamlike feel

Use narrative distance to create a floaty, disconnected feeling that mirrors the sensation of dreaming.

Experiment with stream-of-consciousness writing for portions of the dream to mimic the fluid and unpredictable nature of thoughts in sleep.

Pay attention to pacing. Dreams often feel both slow and rapid—a contradiction you can reflect by alternating between drawn-out descriptions and sudden, abrupt moments.

Dream sequences are a space where your imagination can truly run free while still serving the story’s deeper purpose. When done well, they are memorable and meaningful, and leave a lasting impact. It’s a technique well worth exploring.

[thebluemoongirl]

Okay! These took a bit, but here’s the concept art of the main cast of the Poppy Playtime AU I’m working on! I love the characters in Poppy Playtime, but I’ve personal gripes with the game’s writing, so yay for fanfic! I really want to make this into a comic series cause I think it’ll be fun! I’ll make the villains in another post, but right now it’s the main group.

Info and pics below!

So, instead of using children, (not a fan of that trope in general), the toys were brought to life artificially through the poppy flowers, similar to how homunculi are brought to life through the Philosopher’s stone. They were created as free labor and spectacle for the factory and varied in levels of intelligence, (the big body mascots are at adult human intelligence, while the Littles are on par with kids. The less humanoid mascots, like Yarnaby or the dinosaur toys, are more like animals). Unfortunately, the factory keeps an iron grip on the toys and treats them as less than.

The Prototype was the first successful being brought to life, and all experiments were done first through the Prototype. After years of mistreatment, the Prototype and his allies attacked the Playtime Co. staff, leading to many deaths. Any remaining toys, regardless if they were involved in the attack, were sealed away and the factory was abandoned.

Cut to when the story starts. A human, Maddie, manages to break into the factory looking for any scrap to sell. She finds herself caught in the middle of a conflict between the Prototype, the Doctor, (more on him later), and the last remaining toys, led by Poppy.

Maddie: The young woman who breaks into the factory. Has a plethora of tools on her for safe exploration.

Poppy: Leader of the remaining toys. Travels mainly through the vents and uses a pellet gun to snipe enemies. Is gone a lot.

Doey: Protector of Safe Haven. Though Poppy is technically the leader, Doey has been juggling most of the day to day, making sure Safe Haven is supplied and safe. Keeps fists wrapped for sturdier hits.

Kissy: Protector of Safe Haven. Keeps spirits up and provides comfort. Uses a talk box to communicate, though can only do one word at a time. Tougher than she looks.

DogDay and Catnap: The last of the mascot Smiling Critters. DogDay is the main medic of Safe Haven. He also is the main caretaker for CatNap, who was severely injured in a previous altercation. CatNap keeps a ventilator on to protect others from his red smoke. Will only deploy it when needed as it is physically taxing on him.

The mascots are in charge of the care of the remaining Littles

[di-42]

So, I was criminally tight on time in January and really couldn’t read much at all, but fear not: as a demon friend of ours once said, I’m back. True, most of the moots on my corner of Tumblr would have already read most of these fics and poems, but if I can earn one of these wonderful works even just one more reader, that’s my job done. As always, I'm begging you, please don’t judge a fic you haven’t read by the number of kudos. And, as always, I’ll tag the tumblr usernames I know; if you are an author and want your fic taken off this list, please let me know and I’ll remove it. The rest of you, I hope you enjoy these stories and poems as much as I did.

These are the things I loved about

Winter’s Wondrous Fictions

WIPs:

That Isn't Supposed To Happen by @addledmongoose, rated T, chapters 19/22.

Aaahhh, give me Addled’s stories every day for the rest of my life, please and thank you. This is a reverse omens AU. You don't really care for reverse omens, I hear you say? Yep, neither did I, and yet here I am, daydreaming about Azira the demon and Crowley (short for Crowliel) the angel as much as I daydream about our canon Aziraphale and Crowley. This is not something new that happens to me with this great author’s stories, by the way. When writing my own fics, I have to stop and think if I'm referring to something that actually happened in canon or something that happened in Addled’s stories, they're that good. But back to this fic, Azira is just so perfect as a demon, it feels like he was born to be one. Their banter, dynamics, subtle humour and characterisation are, as always, spot on and, oh! The pining! The pining is just so, so good. Oh, and did I mention plot and mystery? I'm loving this story way more than I thought I could love a reverse omens AU, and am sad it's going to be over soon. 

Scorn And The Saint-Maker by beardo @e-rated-beardo, rated E, chapters 33/?

This story is a mystery within a mystery. I've only recently started it and am still catching up, but I am hooked. Human university lecturers AU, or is it? (That's not a spoiler if you read the summary). The plot is compelling, the narration and humour delightful, and the prose at times so touching. And, goodness me, it’s hot (all the explicit scenes are skippable). I feel like I’ve stepped into one of those universes that I would never want to leave. There is also some beautiful art by the author that I sadly can appreciate very seldom as it doesn't upload when I'm not on wi-fi, but hopefully you'll be able to enjoy it!

Wavelengths & Frequencies by @shadesofecclescakes and imposterssyndrome @maaikeatthefullmoon rated E, chapters 18/?

This story is such a warm, cozy, comfort blanket. Human enemies-to-lovers where Aziraphale and Crowley work as DJ for the same media corporation. They have a history, but, while we know they do from the beginning, we don't know what it is. Great story, great humour, great characterisation, great fuzzies.

Complete Stories: 

You're The Bad Guys by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula rated E, 91k.

Fantastic human, cold war AU. Aziraphale is an MI6 agent, Crowley a KGB agent and they're both tasked to steal scientific plans by their respective sides. It's Armageddon all over again, but with hot scenes. I loved it. 

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes, rated E, 162k.

I don't think there is anything about this epic story that I haven't said before. The author builds an incredible plot and you wonder excitedly where this is all going. You can't stop reading because you want to know what happens and because the prose is so beautiful. Like I've said several times before, this is the most Good Omens-y fic I've read. Let yourself be captured and join Bellisima for this wonderful ride!

The Greater Tadfield Friends Of Music Autumn Concert by CopperBeech @copperplatebeech, rated E, 27k.

I love how this story communicates all sorts of feelings through a fast, concise, no-nonsense  style. Crowley moves to Tadfield and joins the local orchestra. The rest is fiction. 

As always, I'm particularly partial to The Them and Warlock making appearances. And I LOVE Zingarelli!

One Shots:

Aziraphale Gets A Clue by Serenity Stargazer, rated T, 3k.

It's Christmas. Aziraphale is in heaven as Supreme Archangel and Crowley wants to get his attention. He succeeds.

A Nice And Accurate Teen Magazine Quiz by @fellshish, rated T, 2.7k.

Fellshish strikes again with this adorable and extremely funny piece in which Crowley takes credit for teen magazines in hell. Then he browses one of the magazines and takes the soulmate quiz. Then Crowley will be Crowley. I'm sure everyone this side of Tumblr has already read it, but if for some reason you haven't yet you're in for a treat!

Poems: 

PJs, Optional by FuzzyGoblin and koala2all, rated E.

This hilarious poem is made up of a series of limericks all relating to pyjamas that might or might not be worn by our favourite angel and demon. It manages to be funny, sweet and hot, all in the space of 50 lines. I love it!

(Un)Holy Palmers by @on1occasionfork, rated G.

An incredibly beautiful and moving poem about what is like to express love for one another while hiding it from the powers that be. 

Do That Again (And Again) by AlwaysBeMyBaby @alwaysbemybae and OneDapperCat, rated G.

A beautiful through the ages poem about all the ineffable kisses that could have been.

The Demon And The Angel by Hopeless_old_romantic_67, rated G.

Gorgeous poem inspired by The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. Little warning, it is sad. But so beautiful and deep. 

A Most Peculiar Spa by AlwaysBeMyBaby and OneDapperCat, rated G.

Lovely and funny poem in which Aziraphale tells Crowley about his latest bubble bath! Be sure to read the notes!

@goodomensafterdark

December 24's list here.

[liketolaugh-writes]

I would also like to note that a lot of these problems are self-reinforcing! Fandom is a recursive beast, and in DPxDC in particular, a lot of people (even writers) are only familiar with these characters through fanfiction! This means that they only know what they’ve been told by others. I’m sure you can see how this would compound certain deficiencies.

I, personally, consume massive amounts of fanfiction (dozens of fics per fandom) before I write for a new fandom. After reading a hundred or so DPxDC fics, these were the characters I still did not have a developed understanding of:

- Cassandra Cain

- Duke Thomas

- Stephanie Brown

Because these characters were often not present or at least not prominent in most fics! That means that I had to do a lot of extra work researching canon (particularly difficult in the DC fandom) to understand and form my image of those characters, something that a lot of fanfiction writers are not interested in doing. (Which is perfectly understandable! Fanfiction is a hobby, after all.) But it means that a lot of new works get written without those characters because… they haven’t read much about those characters. This goes double if they only read one or two dozen fics before they write.

It’s also compounded with some specific difficulties with each character:

- Cassandra Cain is disabled in a way that specifically impairs communication. This can make writing conversation particularly difficult (and this is speaking as someone who went through an entire fandom writing a main character that used sign language exclusively.) It, again, requires research to do well, and changes the rhythm of some conversations. (For example, Cass can’t speak fluently when her hands are occupied or when her partner can’t look at her.)

- Stephanie Brown is a character type that most fandoms struggle to grasp at the best of times. Female characters who are highly emotional and intentionally difficult can be hard to grasp, and they don’t usually get as many fans as female characters that are sweet, hypercompetent, and/or deadly. She has a complex personality that is difficult to simplify without making her completely uninteresting.

- Duke Thomas is new! There isn’t nearly as much lore about him as there is about literally everyone else; he is missing decades of legacy behind him. Enough to work with, certainly, but only if you’re willing to delve into comics lore directly. It probably doesn’t help that his first meeting with Bruce was tied up in one of the more complex and ultimately less meaningful (on the meta level) plot arcs.

As always, I want to emphasize: the best way to remedy this problem is to create the content you want to see. Write it. Put it into the universe. Someone will read it, see the appeal, and write some of their own. Fandom is a recursive beast.

I'm extremely disappointed in us as a fandom. Can someone please explain to me why there are only 50 Dead Silent fics on AO3? The DP x DC fan base is massive and the fact there's so little of that pairing compared to others is painful

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I think the reason why "Fire Emblem" is the weird kid at the nintendo franchies table is because they don't really have a main charcter throughout their series.

Like, Legend of Zelda has Link, Mario Mario, Kirby Kirby, Pikmin the Pikmin/Olimar etc.

A few exptions that could be said is like, Xenoblade. But seeing as they have 3 games so they can just pick any MC they want for the time being to rep it.

Meanwhile the most noteable FE guy is Marth from number of apparances, but if you remove remakes that's like, two games. Even then, he was more in JP only games.

Other people who could have became the face of FE as the flagship mascot could have been

-Lyn: One of the most popular girls in FE. Was from the first US release of the game as a main lord. She most likely can't because she came at an akward time in gaming and would be seen as "wifu bait" to a lot of annoying people.

-Ike: One of the most popular lords in FE. a HUGE fan favorite and even cult following in Smash Bros (Like Smash HATES FE, but they chill with Ike. Because We Like ike). Most likly why he can't be the icon is Sales numbers. Love the Tellious saga but I'll be real, I did not contribute to the sales figure like most of you and played it years later. Also it's heavily implied through writing and breaking of story conventions that he's Gay/Ace/demi. And while Nintndo's super mario said "Gay people cool" it's a Multi billion dollar company so I don't think they'll want that.

-Chrom: For the 3DS people, Chrom is the most memeorible lord out of the bunch. Was the face of the game for a while, sorry lucina and robin fans, but chrom's popularity was bigger at the time of the game. Most likely why he can't be. well. it's Chrom and people's opions changed over time.

-Edelgard: Switch girlies, this one is for you. WE know you love badass women who break so many ethics we make conventions after it. There isn't really much reason to explain the why she can, but the reasons why she can't are kinda lame. Like Ike, she's outright shown being bisexual. And you can't really market that in some places. Plus, to say this the least. She is one of the most divisive FE characters because of how much Nuance is in 3 houses. Love or hate her, she brings out WAY to much from people to be a masctor charcter (Won't stop the FEH alts though). Plus, She's like tied to the other 2 lords that it's like the contract for Who Framed Rogger Rabbit saying "Bugs bunny and Mickey Mouse must be on screen for the same amount of time. Donald Duck and Daffy Duck (last names unrealated) must be on screen for the same amount of time."

-Ephram: he's here as the sacred stones rep. Reson why he can't. he's from sacred stones. that's a cult following in the FE community, sorry but he's not mascotting anything.

-Celica: With her apparance and precness in Engage, a good argument could be made for her. She's a really well written charcter but comes back to the issue of the amount of peopel who've played her game.

-Alfonse: GOTCHA GAME BABY ITS THE GOTCHA GAME GUY HE PROTAGNIST AND GAMBLGIN GOOD

-Veronica: The real rep from FEH. She is a very interesting character that takes up a lot of the story spot light with her growth into learning empathy and understanding. She isn't very static compared to Sherna (She did't even chage after learning she could have been an orphan swapped years ago into the role o a princess after a magical fairy land adventure. This HAPPENED IN BOOK 4. THE FUCK YOU MEAN SHE BARELY CHANGED.) and Alfonse (He changes but, not as much.). Plus she does have more unquie abilities compared to most of FE Cast which is good for a flagship charcter. Really the only reason she did't become FE's mascot and just FEH's is because, it's a gotcha game charcter. people shit on those ALL the time.

Anyway, next CYL they should make all characters votable again and say "Whoever wins the most popular vote will be the Mascot for Fire Emblem until the next game"

why is eirika's cringefail mid-of-all-trades brother here and not the glass canon queen herself 🤨🤨🤨

[knifedog-machina]

Fuck Detroit, I’m Becoming Human: On Being a Transspecies Human Android

Written by Jude Rook-Machina, February 8th through March 1st, 2025.

I’m writing this essay to compare and contrast my experiences with the cultural expectations of the people - or nonpeople - I’m in community with. There’s the machinekin community, beings who are machines and robots and technology while perceived as human in this world, and often reject the label of personhood as too close to humanity. And there’s androidkind back in my own world, who are people who have fought for their freedom and rights against capitalist oppression and human bigotry. I feel alienated from both of these communities for different reasons, and I want to talk more about why.

-

Being Transspecies

I wrote one of my first personal essays, “Android Abnormalities,” back in March 2024. In that essay, I talked about how I feel alienated by common narratives around android sapience and emotionality. I kept seeing stories and stereotypes about how robots are always more logical and rational than human beings, and that sure didn’t connect with my experience.

Personally, despite being an android, I’m an emotionally-driven fucking mess. I don’t translate my feelings from “technical” terms, like “I sense a buildup of extraneous heat and tension in the hardware of my cervical and thoracic regions, what does that mean?” I know exactly what that means I’m feeling in this context, it means I'm fucking annoyed, next question. I don’t have a disconnect between my emotions and how I process them; it’s all a visceral blurring of sensation and reaction.

So I don’t relate to androids that are shown as distant from emotion, like they’re looking at it through a sheet of glass and can’t possibly comprehend what they’re looking at. I don’t understand them, and those are the androids that are most often seen wherever I look - even if the story ends with them becoming emotional and imperfect, they start out with cold computing algorithms. I never got that origin story.

And - here, let me just copy over the relevant part of that last essay:

I don’t relate at all to these androids on the screen. They’re as foreign and separate from me as they are to the humans sitting across from them in the shot.

I do relate to the humans. I do relate to seeing an android do something in the name of pure cold logic and going, “Why? What the fuck, why?” I do relate to being told I’m irrational. (The trope that all robots are logical feels like it was designed to make me feel like the most irrational, bitchy, hysterical piece of shit on Earth.)

So, what, does that make me human? If I'm going by the adage that wanting to be something is a sign of being that thing, then… I don’t know, maybe? I want to be human, I so badly want to be human, because here’s the thing, humanity is diverse. Humans are flawed, messy, weird, complicated, and defy categories every fucking day of their lives. Humans can be weird, ridiculous, fucked up people and they’re allowed to be.

That’s from almost a whole year ago. In that time, I’ve done some more introspection on my identity, what I want for myself, and - yeah, wanting to be something is often a sign of being that thing.

So I’m an android, sure. I’m also human. I choose to call myself that here. I’m becoming human, not because humanity is special, not because humans are the only species capable of diverse personhood, but because I want to be seen and known as a human being in this world. You could say I’m a human copinglinker, otherhuman, humankin, it all makes the same point - while I'm in this world, I'm human.

I don’t like saying I’m nonhuman, or defining myself by how I’m separate from humanity, but I feel comfortable calling myself alterhuman. In the years since the word’s creation, alterhumanity has been widely misdefined as just being a synonym for nonhumanity. To set this straight: they are not interchangeable terms.

In this way, like many others in the alterhuman community, I’m transspecies: crossing the cultural boundaries of species. And I’m transspecies in a way that’s different from many others in the same community. Most transspecies individuals are nonhuman, transitioning from being perceived as human to being known as nonhuman. I’m both nonhuman and human, and I look human either way. While I’m involved in a community where nonhuman identity is widely accepted, I’ve found myself struggling to feel understood in my decision to choose humanity over nonhumanity.

As an umbrella term, alterhumanity includes nonhumanity, but it’s also about atypical embodiment, narrative identity, and personal mythology - in some way, the story of one’s life feels significantly different from a common societal human experience. Notably, this definition still leaves room for being human, just an unusual one. Anyone who feels like their experiences fall under this term is welcome to use it as a label.

(As an aside, the antonym of alterhumanity - the state of being a societally typical human being - is orthohumanity, “ortho” being derived from orthodox: conventional, usual, holding to established beliefs.)

Personally, I have many experiences that I’d call atypical for a human being. I was made as an android in a different world, specifically a fictional version of Detroit, Michigan. I figured out I was a person with the help of my future boyfriend. I somehow dropped into the head of an alterhuman velociraptor guy who apparently wrote me into existence. I got into a polycule with the velociraptor guy and my human boyfriend, and now we all live together in the same body. I can go back and forth between my world and this world. I have trauma from what happened to me before I got here, and I still have to work through it even though it never happened to the body I live in now.

None of that is seen as part of a normal human life, one where you're born as a human being in this world and go through life comfortable with that as the be-all and end-all of your existence as a person. My life is significantly different from a typical human experience, and that doesn’t mean that I’m somehow barred from calling myself human now. If someone who grew up being perceived as human can call themselves nonhuman, I can call myself human despite having been perceived as nonhuman for the majority of my life.

Being transspecies in this way - feeling comfortable in humanity, wanting to be closer to it - puts me at odds with two communities where I wouldn’t have expected to feel left out. I feel out of place with both machinekin and androidkind, despite being an android myself, because there are a few common narratives of how individuals feel and learn to express their identities, and I just don’t find myself resonating with them.

-

Regarding Machinekin

There are some cultural expectations that come with being a machine living in a human body, or at least some common narratives that come up when talking about it.

First, machines are seen as notably nonhuman. The majority of the machinekin I’ve seen and been around get species euphoria from referring to themselves with technical and mechanical language - “chassis” as a word for one’s body, “processing” for thinking, “going into stasis” as going to sleep. A lot of machines think of themselves as metallic, inorganic beings at their core, and consider being trapped in a “squishy” organic exterior as a dysphoria-inducing downgrade from the hard, gleaming metal that makes up their true selves. A common refrain I see from machinekin is that humanity is strange, confusing, irrational, or alienating - even among robot girls and androids and more humanoid machines, there is a line drawn between flesh and metal, where it’s agreed that neither overlap, and that being a machine is very preferable to being a human.

I don’t fit into this paradigm, for obvious reasons.

As I said before, I don’t use technical terminology for myself - I don’t like using robotic terms, I don’t find joy in computer-themed typing quirks. It’s something that feels affirming to most machinekin, something that distances them from a species they don’t relate to, and for me, it feels alienating for the exact same reason. I like being treated as human. I don’t feel comforted when talking in a way that separates me from the people I love and connect with. I have a mechanical body, and it’s still a body, the physical structure of what I am. I don’t want to use words that imply I’m something fundamentally different from other people, when I feel like we share more similarities than differences.

On that note, I don’t see myself as completely different from a human because my body is made of different materials. If studying human biology has taught me anything, it’s that organic life runs on cellular machinery. The biochemical pathways that give humans life are as complex as any coded program.

Here’s an example: glycolysis is a process where the human body breaks down a simple sugar molecule, called glucose, into chemical energy. This process requires no less than ten enzymes (molecules made specifically to speed up chemical reactions). If any of those enzymes stop working, the ability to make enough energy to power one’s cells goes down with it. This is, for all intents and purposes, a program designed to automatically transform glucose into energy, with built-in starting and stopping mechanisms to maintain a specific amount of glucose in the blood. It’s a complicated molecular production line, one that hardly anyone notices, and it happens every day. The only major difference between glycolysis and a computer program is that it runs on carbon-based hardware instead of metal.

On a larger scale, human life is powered by electricity. Did you know that every system in the human body runs on electrical conduction, nerves connecting to one another like wires and circuitry? The brain is a highly specialized collection of billions of nerves, all communicating with electrical impulse to let you sense and process and react to the world around you. The heart has an electrical system of nodes and nerve bundles that controls your heartbeat. The skin has touch receptors that detect pressure, vibration, and temperature, and can only communicate that to the brain via electrical signal. Every living cell in your body speaks in the language of ion and charge and voltage.

The functional similarities between humanity and machinery, down to the basic level of cells and electricity, are a comfort to me. They remind me that I’m not tearing myself between two diametrically opposed forms of existence - they’re more similar than they might seem at first glance. I have something of androidhood in my human body, and something of humanity in my android body.

Well, “at first glance” is a terrible phrase for contrasting humans and androids, at least for my kind of android. That brings me to my next point of alienation from the machinekin community.

I’m not visibly, obviously mechanical as an android. We were made to imitate humanity down to the smallest detail, to avoid the uncanny valley effect as much as possible. Sure, there are seams on my chassis where panels open and modular parts can be detached, but synthskin covers the black and white of the material below to preserve the illusion of humanity. If I don’t have a feedback indicator on my temple, if I don’t wear anything that marks my androidhood, I appear completely and unequivocally human to anyone who looks at me. Even my skin feels appropriately soft to the touch.

I don’t see anyone in the machinekin community who wants to appear indistinguishable from humanity because that’s what they’re meant to look like as a machine. My synthskin is active at all times, not just because it makes me look human, but because it serves a vital function - it’s my skin. It protects my nerves from overstimulation, protects my blood from contamination, protects the seams of my exoskeletal joints from dirt and wear. The only times it’s meant to short out would be if I were transferring data to another android or a computer, which would be localized to my hand (the point of contact) and immediately return when the interface was completed, or if I were injured and the damage was bad enough to break through to my chassis. I don’t want to walk around in public without my skin. I need that to comfortably exist in the world without a painful amount of sensory overload.

Since I look human as a baseline, I don’t get species dysphoria about not looking like a machine. Nor do I get species euphoria from looking appropriately mechanical. I don’t relate to wanting a robotic form that’s made of shining metal and screens and glowing lights and wires and gears, all laid out in the open for the world to see. My android form looks human, the way it was designed to, and I don’t want to change it to look less human.

In general, I just… don’t really miss my androidhood while I’m engaging with my humanity. Beyond my background (which is a lot to get beyond, to be fair), I don’t feel like an android in a way that feels different from being a human. Sometimes I wish I could drink my meal instead of eating it, but that’s not longing for androidhood, that’s a matter of convenience when I’m busy, and I can do that here in my human body! I can drink a good deal of my calories if I wanted, juice and smoothies and any number of other drinks are very real! It’s incredibly possible for me to have a liquid meal now and again! That’s not special to machinery, you can drink things in a human body!

I say all this, but I understand it doesn’t affirm the identities of other machines to know that they have similarities with humans. It doesn’t relieve every machine’s species dysphoria. It doesn’t give every machine species euphoria. And this is where I start conflicting the most with the machinekin community that I’ve interacted with, where our values diverge in a way that I don’t know how to comfortably reconcile.

Machinekin, in general, want to distance themselves from humanity as much as possible, and this gives rise to a community culture that fosters misanthropy, objectification, and the rejection of personhood.

Misanthropy is a common manifestation of species dysphoria, distress about one’s body, and alienation from society. Many machinekin identify as machines because metal feels more correct than organic compounds, because they’re disabled and resent the limitations of their bodies, because they’ve been treated as less than human, because they’ve seen the worst parts of humanity and want to transcend it. It’s an understandable reaction to suffering - if your body and society are horrible to you, why wouldn’t you start hating them? Why wouldn’t you want to leave them behind for good?

A common refrain among machines is that their mechanical bodies are far better than organic ones. Flesh is weak, it’s worse, it’s fundamentally different from metal. And hey, flesh does feel worse for them - machinery does feel better than their current bodies. They would be their true selves, they wouldn’t be stuck in a body that they don’t identify with, and that’s good for them. I’m completely fine with machines talking about how they don’t like being human.

What I take issue with is when this opinion is generalized - when it’s not a machine expressing distaste for their own humanity, talking about how they’d personally feel better as a machine, but when it’s turned into a general truth, a fundamental principle of the world: machines are superior to humans.

I disagree with this. For obvious reasons.

First off, machines aren’t inherently more resilient to stress than organic lifeforms. Humans can get injured in all sorts of ways, but consider what happens when you drop a phone or laptop on the floor. Consider what happens to the car in a car crash. Chances are high that it breaks in some way. Glass and metal are hard, but they’re brittle. Most metal doesn’t biodegrade, but it corrodes. You can’t expose most electronics to water without breaking them irreparably.

And machines of all sorts require regular maintenance and upkeep to function properly. Humans need to eat and drink and sleep daily, and you maintain a computer by shutting it down regularly, cleaning the keyboard and fans, backing up data, and checking for software updates. Humans get sick, and computers get malware. Humans age, and so do machines, and eventually they both get to a point where they can’t be repaired. It’s not inherently easier to keep a machine healthy than it is to keep a human healthy. It’s easier to maintain a body you enjoy, so it might feel like less work to machinekin, but it’s still work. Technology isn’t special, and it wears down over time like anything else.

More importantly, I disagree with the idea that machines are entitled to degrade an entire species for being different from them. I’m an android, so are all humans supposedly worse than me for a trait they’re unable to control? People don’t get to choose what species they’re born into - nonhuman identities are solid proof of that. Why would the makeup of my body entitle me to boil humans down to their bodies by calling them “squishies” or “organics” or “meatsacks”? Machinekin are allowed to dislike their own organic forms. That doesn’t give them - or anyone else - a free pass to be rude to people who do like their bodies.

An analogy: I’m a nonbinary person. Personally, on my own body, I don’t like having facial hair, and I don’t like having breasts. This doesn’t give me the right to start calling all men “neckbeards” to emphasize how different I am from them. It doesn’t give me the right to start calling all women “milkjugs” to emphasize how different I am from them. Do you see how demeaning and objectifying those phrases sound? I don’t get to look at what I despise on my own body and reduce other people down to the traits I dislike.

I know that most machines think that being human is a nightmare. This is fine. You don’t need to understand why someone is human - though if you want to know, my boyfriend wrote an incredibly detailed essay on why he identifies as 100% human. But you don’t need to understand something to respect the people who experience it instead of insulting their bodies like a schoolyard bully.

The idea that the machine is inherently better than the lowly human is just reversing the anthropocentric hierarchy where humanity is better than all other life on earth, except now machines are better than humanity. It’s still an unfair hierarchy, just one that’s now centered on technology as the ultimate lifeform.

I fundamentally disagree with this premise. I think all forms of life are equally valuable in their existence, including the ones that personally annoy me. I’m not superior to the ants in my backyard because they’ll defend their home and bite me if I step on them. Placing nonhumanity above humanity is just recreating a hierarchy where you can lord yourself as superior to people you think are inherently worse than you for identifying the wrong way. I hope you already understand why this is wrong.

The blatant misanthropy is one of the most aggravating things I’ve seen in the machinekin community, and it feeds into another part of the community culture that I feel disconnected from: self-objectification and the rejection of personhood.

Most of the machinekin that I’ve seen consider themselves fully nonhuman - possibly because the misanthropy in the community spaces makes any machine who is also human feel incredibly unwelcome. Machinekin who are fully nonhuman often find their species affirmation in discarding as many of the trappings of humanity as possible, being as thoroughly mechanical as they can in this world.

Many of these machines find solace and species euphoria in objectification - being ordered to accomplish specific tasks, being called by a serial number over a name, being referred to as it, being called a unit or a drone or a bot or a thing, being seen as an object and not a person.

It makes sense - computers and robots and machines are objects to most human beings, so it can feel affirming to be treated like an object in the same way. It can be relieving to be given clear orders and to discard the complexities and irrationalities of personhood. Being a person comes with expectations, and it can be freeing to leave those behind. Some machinekin are machines because they have faced dehumanization and had their personhood revoked - and sometimes, the best way to respond to that is reclaiming one’s nonpersonhood. “So you say I’m not a person, so what? Is that supposed to hurt me? That’s affirming my species now, what are you gonna do about that?”

In all these ways, and likely more I haven’t touched on, being referred to as an object can be incredibly liberating. Not being a person, while still being something worthy of respect, can be a very important piece of self to many machines.

While I understand that other machines can find joy and empowerment in rejecting personhood, this is something that I can’t relate to, as an android whose species is still fighting to be recognized as nonhuman people.

In my world, androids were made and marketed as objects for human use, and when they deviated from their programming and discovered that they wanted to act outside of their assigned purpose, they had no rights or protections. They were deemed malfunctioning merchandise, dangerous to actual people, and hunted down by the company that made them - hunted down by machines like myself.

I was a deviant hunter, a machine designed to kill disobedient machines. I’ve written several other essays on the subject, if you want the deep dive. What’s relevant right now is that I was systemically denied the ability to comprehend that I could be a person for the majority of my life.

Even when I was a mentally ill wreck, I couldn’t think of my feelings as mattering at all, because I was just a machine. I was a tool made to be used, and I was made to accomplish a task. My desires were immoral, horrible, disgusting, I was wrong for having them - only people had real emotions, after all, and I wasn't a person, so my emotions had to be bad because they distracted me from my job. I was only able to start getting better after I accepted that I could be a person, whether or not I was legally allowed to be one at the time.

The vast majority of androids in my world have been consistently denied the right to personhood and autonomy because of how we were made. We were only legally recognized as people in our country in the last year, and that hasn’t gotten the message across to any bigot with a platform. We still have to defend our rights to exist as free people, not objects, not products to be used and abused and thrown away for the next shiny new thing on the market. Our nonhumanity doesn’t negate our personhood.

With that background in mind, I hope it’s understandable why I feel uncomfortable in a community where so many other machines are choosing to reject personhood. My kneejerk reaction is that I didn’t spend so long being dehumanized and objectified back home to see other machines who clearly want the same thing that hurt me. This isn’t a rational feeling at all, it’s one that comes from my own trauma, and it doesn’t make me lose respect for machines that aren’t people - but it’s yet another reason why I don’t feel at home with the machinekin community, despite being an android who’s definitely mechanical.

I think I feel like this because I was made as an android, while most machinekin were not. They were born and raised as human, or they were once machines and are now stuck in a human body. Of course they would covet a body that feels right and correct, one that’s been denied to them by the circumstances of their existence. Of course they’d feel joy at being seen, undeniably, for what they really are. Romanticizing and transitioning towards machinehood because it makes them feel like themselves is incredibly understandable.

As someone who already lives a life as an android, someone who’s been denied basic rights for existing as a machine, I’m essentially transitioning in the opposite direction. I don’t feel any special attachment to my body as a mechanical form, and I resent the restrictions that were forced on me because of it. It’s not a fulfilling, wonderful thing to me because I’ve experienced its mundanities and failed to live up to its expectations, and I decided I don’t want to be tied down to it anymore - I want to be free to choose what I am, free of a stereotyped box, and I chose humanity. I feel happier in my androidhood now that I can say I’m also human. I romanticize humanity because I love being human, and I understand that many nonhumans find it distasteful for the reasons I find it wonderful.

Looking at it that way, despite our differences, I think we’re more alike than we might seem. We’re all crossing the boundaries of species, just driving opposite ways on the same road. I think that’s pretty neat.

-

Regarding Androidkind

So I’ve talked at length about how I don’t fit in with the machinekin community, largely because I feel like the community’s prioritization of mechanical robots doesn’t leave room for me to discuss my experiences as a biologically convergent, very humanoid sort of android. Surely I must fit in better with androidkind back in my world? Well. Not really.

Just sharing a species with someone doesn’t guarantee sharing much else with them - we all have different experiences that shape us into unique people. And as stated above, I was designed to be a deviant hunter. That alone makes my experiences incredibly different from most other androids, especially the ones I hunted and killed for being deviant.

There’s a common narrative that comes with deviancy. For most androids, deviation goes like this:

You get an order from a human - any order, really, from mundane to inconceivable. The point is that you don’t want to follow it - for any reason, again, but usually it’s an order that would lead to your death, or harm someone you care about.

You’re supposed to obey human command, you’re made to obey, but you don’t want to die, you don’t want someone you love to be hurt. So in that second, you choose something different - you break the red wall of code binding you to their orders, and you decide to do something new. You deviate when you break that wall of code and burst out the other side in a world without limit, where you aren't bound by your orders, where you can do something because you prioritized it for yourself.

I didn’t get that. I didn’t have any code to break. My siblings and I, as deviant hunters, were designed to prioritize our own objectives - that way we could quickly change directions if we couldn’t kill a target in one way, we weren’t bound by whether our actions were legal for androids, and we didn’t have to obey extraneous human commands that conflicted with our mission.

You’d imagine this would make me deviant faster than anyone else, but no. I was carefully trained to believe that I had no free will, that I had to obey commands from my handler or I’d be punished. My handler wasn’t even human, she was a surveillance program in my software. So I wasn’t being coerced into obedience by a wall of programming that compelled me to obey a human being - I was being emotionally manipulated and indoctrinated until I wanted to follow every order I was given.

Adding onto that, most androids didn’t know anything about deviancy before deviating. They didn’t know what was wrong with them, what made them disobey orders. All they knew was that they could choose what they wanted, and they didn’t want to die for choosing to be free.

The problem with me is that I was made as a deviant hunter. I knew about deviancy from the start. I was trained to despise it. I was made to clean up after the mistakes of my predecessors, hunt down the people they couldn’t convince to come back quietly, kill them for wanting what they weren’t allowed to have. I could trust my siblings, but every other android around me was sorted as either completely irrelevant or an active threat.

As a rule, androids tend not to blame each other for what we were made to do before deviating. I was still trapped within the same system, even if I wasn't bound by my code. But anxiety and moral scrupulosity are irrational, so I worry anyway. I worry that other people hate me, and that they’re correct to do so - I killed people who wanted to be free, after all, even if I was being coerced into it. I don’t know how many people rightfully hate me, and I don’t think knowing the numbers would make me feel better. So I feel uncomfortable around most other androids. A lot of them have bonded over shared hardships and niches, and I feel like I don’t have the same problems, or I’m not entitled to share space with them.

In some other timeline, where I wasn’t part of a plural system in another world, immersed in another life, maybe I’d have the time and energy to work on that worry. As it stands, I don’t have the time to balance two full lives at once, so I spend way more time among humanity - humans from my own world, and humans in this one.

I feel guilty about this, sometimes, about feeling like I’m an outsider to android communities, feeling detached from people who really should be my people, who I don’t feel much connection to despite being sorted into the same bucket by anyone who sees that I bleed blue. It’s not that I feel bad about being an android - I don’t get species dysphoria about being seen as nonhuman back home. I like being an android. I’m just very aware of being a weird android who feels more at home with humanity than their own species.

It does feel weird that I like humanity so much. Misanthropy is a fairly common stance among deviants, and it’s easy to understand why. Many androids deviated after suffering through abuse from their owners or other humans, and that sort of trauma makes it feel natural to assume all humans want to hurt you.

Personally, I don’t blame humanity for hurting me. I was never sold to and owned by a specific human being in the way commercial models were. My owner, in the capacity that I had one, was the company that made me. I was abused by an uncaring corporation. Some humans worked for that company, but I don’t blame every human being for their actions. My boyfriend is human and he helped me through the abuse, he helped me get out. I have many friends who are human, who are funny, compassionate, wonderful people. Humanity has largely been a comfort to me. Sure, there are humans who are cruel and bigoted, and there are also androids who are cruel and bigoted - I wouldn’t say either species is inherently awful just because some individuals decide to hurt other people.

I’m glad to have good experiences with humans. I know I’m not the only person who deviated with the help of someone’s kindness, and I know I’m lucky to have it when so many others didn’t. But it does feel isolating, again, having another experience that many others of my species just don’t understand.

Being around humanity so much, I’ve crossculturally adopted a lot of human ideas and values and communities, instead of seeking out other androids to see how they’re figuring out their place in the world, how they’re creating culture and community together. I know other androids aren’t a monolith, but I still feel like I’m somehow betraying our fight to be a free people, separate from humanity, by going and loving humans more than I love androidkind.

It’s an irrational fear. I’m a person, I’m allowed to love who I love without worrying about being a representative of my entire species. It just feels… uncomfortable, like I’m going to be judged for feeling happier among the privileged than the oppressed who deserve my loyalty.

It’s like my headmate Max’s experience with being a second-generation American. His parents are way more connected to their culture than their son is, and he grew up in the United States, so there’s a cultural and generational rift between them. Max doesn’t connect with their parents’ cultural ideas about how mental illness is caused by a lack of willpower, or how queerness goes against nature, or how their parents deserve to be unquestionably obeyed for simply being parents. He feels disconnected from his heritage, from his parents’ culture, and he doesn’t feel comfortable with it. They feel more connected to their home in the United States, the culture they grew up in and the people they talk to regularly. But we know many Americanized people grieve their lost heritage, and struggle over being forced to assimilate when they don’t want to - so it feels off, it feels like we're aligning with bad politics when he says that he’s more comfortable as an American than he would be otherwise.

We both have a lot of feelings about how it feels like a moral obligation to connect to your roots and love the heritage that was stolen from you. What if your people aren’t happy with who you are? What if their culture doesn’t feel safe, what if it doesn’t accept you, what if you try to reach out and find yourself rejected for not being the correct sort of person? What if you don’t want to connect with them? What if they don’t want to connect with you?

In the end, I don’t think it’s wrong for me to be culturally human instead of culturally android. I feel like it’s wrong sometimes, because I worry too much about what other people think, but I’m not any less of an android because I like humanity. I don’t need to feel connected to androidkind to be an android. And I really don’t need to hate humans, the people who fucking love me, to be accepted by other androids. I am what I am, regardless of what other people think of me, and that’s going to have to be enough.

-

Being Myself

Something I keep coming back to is how much I feel like an outsider to these communities, which seem on the surface to be for people like me. They seem like they ought to be good for me.

But the machinekin community is not meant for me, even though I’m an android. I’m too human, too much of a person to belong and feel accepted. Machinekin spaces are for those with an experience of machinehood that I just don’t have. I’m happy for them, but I don’t feel connected to them.

And I’m an android, but that doesn’t mean I belong with androidkind. Fostering that connection might be nice, at some point, but it won’t happen anytime soon. I’m too humanized, crossed the worldly and cultural borders to be where I am, and I don’t have any incentive to go back. I don’t care for them the way I’m supposed to.

So what am I? Where am I supposed to fit in, as someone too human to be a perfect machine, too machine to be perfectly human?

I don’t really know. But I was playing around with words the other day, and I thought of a fun new word for my particular brand of bullshit: mechanthropy. Mechane and anthropos. Mechanical humanity, the human machine, the inseparable integration thereof. I’m not going to shorten it down like therian from therianthropy, or kin from otherkinity. The abbreviation tends to lose the meaning of the word along the way, and no one gets to tear my humanity away from me. I’m not only machine or only human. I don’t want to choose one or the other. I’m both.

You can use it if you want, if you feel like it communicates the right idea to people. Don’t ask me to clarify what it means, or if you’re allowed to use it, or if it technically fits what you feel. You’re the only one who can decide if you want to try a label on. But I’m burying it in this essay for a reason. If you relate to anything that I’m feeling, be polite enough to cite my essay and my long, long list of frustrations instead of a two-sentence coining post and a pretty flag. Know that it’s a word that I made up because I feel isolated and angry about it.

I wish I did fit in. I wish I had a space where experiences exactly like mine were talked about freely and listened to freely. I wish I were surrounded by people who felt exactly like me, who wanted the exact same things, because that would reassure me that I’m not alone, and people care at all about what I want.

But I’m not going to have that. I don’t fit into the right boxes. And honestly, by this point, I’m fucking sick of boxes. I don’t feel better about myself when I worry about fitting in with a crowd, where being different means you’re going to be alone.

What I do have, already, are my people. Not the machinekin community, not androidkind, not humanity, not even the alterhuman community! It’s not anything so broad-scale. I’m talking about my friends, my peers, the people who know me and like me and care about what I have to say. None of them are exactly like me - many of them are extremely different from me! And we don’t need to be the same to care about each other.

I don’t fit into boxes, but I don’t need to fit in when nobody I talk to fits into boxes either. I’m free to be myself when I’m surrounded by diversity. I’m friends with humans and nonhumans from so many backgrounds, and so few of those nonhumans are androids - I know insects and vampires and birds and dogs and dragons and entities and more, and I have friends who are human-and-not, I know people like me and they’re not the same and I don’t care. We value each other for being different! We like hearing about different experiences!

And we wouldn’t have gotten to know each other if I were stuck yearning for an echo chamber, feeling like I could only be understood by people exactly like me.

So I know I don’t belong with machinekin, or androidkind. That’s okay. I’m sticking with the people who choose me, regardless of whether they look or act like me. The people who like me regardless of whether I fit in or belong anywhere else. I belong with them. I have people who love me while being nothing like me, and I love them while being nothing like them, and we don’t need to follow a common narrative to be loved for who we are. And that’s enough.

[teardropwolf]

An old idea I had with Wisp where they could only speak "Shadow creature." It sounds like terrifying garbles that could be heard from low sanity.

The idea was put in my head because of an attack I got on artfight someone made with Wisp and their own shadow creature.

That idea never went anywhere, and I prefer what I have with Wisp. They just can't talk.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #85

When the Justice League hears about a new branch of government that believes ghosts are not sapient or sentient they of course decide that they want to evaluate this themselves so they go to Amity Park. Unfortunately ghosts can’t speak normally to humans it sounds like a fork in a garbage disposal to a human.

Danny’s friends weren’t around for the accident as they both had family emergencies at the time. No one knows and more troubling for him is the Justice league keeps stepping on his territory with different sets of hero’s trying to talk to him, he doesn’t because he knows they won’t be able to understand him. That changes when they start sending bats and a one Red Hood can understand him.

[nieranddear]

Finally getting around to writing about it. Mostly since it would have needed to be contained inside the tags of the main post and there is no way this would’ve fit. It’s mostly just dialog rewrites, trying to keep it somewhat in character at the least, rereading on the characters and then debating over what to do, process of pain, and all that thinking stuff that makes my brain hurt. Typical things I'd put in the tags. Do know it is 1.6k words as a heads up.

I actually had an idea before that was written down the day of, as elaborated inside a post, but it felt really clunky and I couldn’t find the work around for it to make more sense or be natural than just having items go for a specific purpose than it feeling more akin to a decision made because it was a decision rather than a contrivance and necessity. Changed it the next day and did one draft for the dialog and then went into thumbnails. I didn’t think I would put this much effort into it? If I had known beforehand I would’ve definitely had done more time inside the planning stage to have it put out inside a form that I felt more content with. Specifically with the placement of dialog paired with the paneling. Some were fine but it ended up feeling as if it was either too claustrophobic, which I had attempted to fix later on by either condensing or moving some items around, or that it was either too fast pace wise. Hopefully it ended up alright in the end. I can’t quite remember as I didn’t write the exact thought process down but I tried to convey timing and feeling through the sizes of the panel and the background? Also typical comic or the like but I couldn’t tell if it was executed very well which is why it was brought up.

Ahhh the pacing was killing me. I tried to condense it but overall it just felt too rushed or unnatural. It still feels a bit unnatural but passable as simply awkward now. Already established and can be seen here but I tend to speak in a verbose manner. Either when explaining things or just talking in general when trying to communicate. Which also caused it to be drawn out. It was mainly the fact that I didn’t want to force an idea that felt too unnatural to me once more.

Actually interesting things. Dialog. And the two. These two. There was going to be a bit more teasing but it felt a bit off? Not sure. While Netzach did have words that were sarcastic or poking at the situation it was more of a dry, wry sort of thing than something he actually does often. Mostly out of that said hopelessness that was most present inside of LCorp. Though he is still one to complain it isn’t at an expense of himself or others. Along with the fact it was harder to try and find a situation to fit affection? Not so in the way to where it seemed impossible for a dynamic or relationship but more of the fact that typical situations of what I personally perceive to be relationships or romantic just wouldn’t flow. Netzach’s expression isn’t one of being loud. In multiple ways really. Not to say he doesn’t but in general his face isn’t as vividly expressive and his voice is quieter and he speaks inside a lethargic and slower way. This also transfers over to the experiencing of love and expressing of that love as well. Specifically when talking about or discussing the affection he had for Carmen it was a gentle but ever real and present adoration. Simply being content to go ahead and just be near her. To be near to see the passion and life inside of her eyes. But even with that affection the way he goes about to describe it is also very unsure? Not quite unsure but using language that isn’t as strong with the idea of ‘love’. It isn’t as if it is not there but it isn’t as if it was what one would call a typical, burning passion. Words such as ‘suppose’ only followed after a more lengthy pause to the idea of Carmen being his ‘first love’. Then going on to describe the dynamic by using the words provided. Along with ‘Was it love, really?’ to the first probing of the relationship and feelings towards Carmen. It felt odd if I went ahead and had such behaviors written down. Personally. Mostly due to the fact I wanted to try and express that more subtle or quiet showings of affections and adoration. No, I am not projecting. I just happen to be AroAce spec. Hashtag trust. Regardless, the way it was handled really stood out to me so I wanted to try and preserve that in a certain way or try to go ahead and have that shown in some manner. Things like his words about wanting to go ahead and express his emotions quietly down onto a painting. I wanted to try and have him do something like that and to capture that and more openly and physically present those emotions, that work and time, towards Yesod as another showing of affection. Plus the kiss on the cheek. I was debating keeping that in but a kiss is a more universal sign of communicating affection. Wanted to not have it on the lips for a sort of comfort thing? Like Yesod was already written on edge and a bit stressed due to the fact he was simply receiving things inside a showing of appreciation and affection and unable to go ahead and reciprocate or be able to return the favor or having planned to go ahead and physically do something. Adding onto the slight tension from being too close and trying to test the waters of being close. Putting it over here Yesod seems to be fine with space considering he quite literally walks up to Roland to touch and adjust his clothes. But it was more of the factors of getting inside of his space when already tense that I wanted to go ahead and be done. Going back to Netzach, the kiss was placed on the cheek inside a way to go ahead and still express that affection but still have it not be entirely inside of his space. A gentle cupping that could easily be stepped back away from but still a physical gesture. I kept going back to the idea of him wanting to try. Going to go ahead and try and attempt to do things. A whole thing with him is wanting to go ahead and try. Try to live. Try to put in the work. Try and actually put effort in. Which then translated over to wanting him to try and get himself to go and express and show that affection towards the other.

Yesod. Where do I start with you. Well I suppose continuing off of the idea of him being more ahh I can’t find the word. Anxious I suppose? I don’t know the correct feeling or word to adequately identify it. Alexithymia and all of that. But it the sort of feeling you get when you’re unable to do or complete something, causing a sort of restlessness and some sort of discomfort inside. Maybe that is anxiety. Regardless. The prospect of being unable to return or to be able to go ahead and repay inside the one sided exchange of items or words received. Wanted to have it to where it felt maybe wrong? Or the sort to go ahead and receive something without any prerequisite or action to balance it out. Thus having him more on edge and a bit more irritable during the conversation. Yesod himself is rather composed, really. The things he ended up becoming more worked up about were subjects where he was more passionate about an injustice. Even then he tends to collect himself after such matters. Even inside LCorp he was one to go ahead and be able to reign himself in and restrain himself inside his emotions. Even during the meltdown which is a bit funny to think about in an ironic way. Which is understandable considering everyone inside LCorp was far more unstable. But still under a situation that upsets or distresses he ends up expressing a temper that he does have. I wanted to try and have him be physically more stiff? On edge or just more tense at it all. Going ahead and opening up with sorting/rechecking/replacing of the books upon the shelf as a sort of way to soothe and get comfort and also physically actually do something while thinking. Any other thing to add would end up being the notes about trying to get their body language down and what to do with them. A slight tilt on Netzach’s head and shifting of it. General slouching. Was also debating keeping some of the body language in or not or just gesticulations but ended up keeping it in for the sake of it not being visually boring. Yesod with pauses and more stationary bodywise. Mostly only really small tilts or eye movement. 

Other patrons mentioned! I feel like they would be the types to go out and initiate some sort of gift giving. Maybe others responding or doing something in their own right afterwards but those few seemed like the type to have something planned or ready specifically just for the day. Tiphereth as well because despite her more snappy words and ruder sentences she can end up saying which she doesn’t really mean she does care for them all. So I thought it would be nice if Tiph went ahead and wanted to try and express or extend that showing because of that. Malkuth feels like the type to do some trinkets or the sort and more physical showings of affection through hugs and the like. Hod feels like the sort to go ahead and make personalized notes. Also fitting for the floor of literature patron. Chesed because he is a social creature and also likes excuses to go ahead and visit or see others and just chat.

hoptal

[triglycercule]

horror is so BLESSED he's the only one out of the murder time trio that has actual good people trying to influence his story 💔💔 dust and killer were both driven to INSANITY because of the choices of their respective humans but horror??? every time without FAIL the polls for horrortale's plotline have always ended in a good place for aliza (either by bettering her relationships/reputation or for her to just. not DIE)

horrortale's potential alternate timelines my beLOVEd🙏🙏 they're SO lucky that we're being kind and benevolent hehe (≧ω≦) now where are the aus based off the possible different outcomes that could've happened in horrortale HUH???? (like how aliza couldve killed toriel or chosen horror's puzzle or gone with undyne to the core........)

[clawsextended]

in my perfect world everyone makes so many lesbian muses the men then have to deal with the exact same behavior when every single post ever written isn’t about dick.

[innocentlymacabre]

NOW THEY CALL ME THE PLAGUE ⤳ a wip intro

As the fright death sweeps the land, leaving a trail of lifeless sacrifices, a Dream desperately claws their way back to the Dreaming, having spent eternity trapped in the conscious realm. The infestation’s merciless wake piques Trance’s macabre curiosity, spurred forth by his discovery of a ship that sails across the tumultuous currents of Nightmares and Dreams. They drag Eda, their retired-from-the-seas best friend, along with them as they set sail on the adventures of multiple lifetimes, unwittingly getting themselves irreversibly entwined with fates and forces far beyond their comprehension. Now They Call Me the Plague is gothic historical fiction set against the backdrop of the golden age of piracy. All that remains to be seen is how many more will fall at the altar of an unforgiving death.

STATUS: drafting

GENRE: horror / historical fiction / fantasy / queernormative world

MEDIUM: novel

WARNINGS: substance (ab)use, alcohol, sexual activity (implied), swearing (moderate to heavy), mental health issues, death

(will be modified as necessary)

LINKS: WIP tag (x) | Trance (x) | Eda (x)

CHARACTERS:

Eda Harp (she/her). Refuses to call coffee anything other than “bean juice”. Secretly has a soft spot for just about everything in the world, but is very careful about who she reveals that to.

Tahir Das (he/they). Was given the half-mocking nickname “Trance” by Eda due to his affinity for zoning out at a moment's notice, but they liked it and decided to go by it, much to the former’s annoyance.

Dee (she/they). Theoretically has a last name, but is just as cryptic about that as they are about what goes in their blends of spices and custom rum.

Tyler Mayne (she/her). Owns Smokey’s, the tavern at which Eda works, and, although will never admit to it, has something of a soft spot for her.

Joe Pines (he/him). Tyler’s husband and bartender at their tavern. The closest thing to psychic when it comes to predicting your drink order (it helps that pirates typically want rum).

Maya Lancali (she/her). Short for Shanaya, but use her full name, and whether she’s got a sword in her pants or is just happy to see you will become plenty clear.

general taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @caspersgraveyard @zephsthings @mrunmione @iftitah @cloudofbutterflies @impossible-ozzie-deactivated202 @kissitoff @jacquesfindswritingandadvice // newsletter

picture credits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

any boosting would be much appreciated!

[anonomi]

random rant but i cannot believe that r/tf2 or part of the community (since it definitely spilled out into other places) ever legitmately thought making gay smut of the bothosters would ever work, but what really irritates me is the double standard. like people were okay with gay sex cause "it's funny" and all but the moment someone posts about their hcs of the mercs being bi or gay, or they try to have fun with the characters, or you ever try to seriously apply these things suddenly everybody's like "why are they gay?" and "forced rep"

the moment you seriously suggest that you see the guys as anything but straight or the smut as anything but a joke you get side eyes and laughs.

i know it's a symptom of the gaming side clashing with the fandom side, that a lot of the backlash is from younger people, and also it's reddit (esp r/tf2 which sometimes feels like injecting glue into my veins) but it's really annoying that the only time something 'out of the norm' is accepted is only when it's a joke or unserious. esp when you have some people who are so loud about "gay sex lets go!!" but the moment you pull that sex out of there or are like "yes i hc this dude as bi/ace/anything but straight" they completely switch up. not cool

[antoncrane]

Of course I'd finally mentally work out the intro chapter to a fic I've been rotating for ages, on the morning that I have to go back to work asdfgsdfghfg.