#alice being hopeless at human things

[goldeneyedgirl]

can't believe my dumb ass misunderstanding the hybrid jasper thing and the fact that you were talking about vampire jasper in the og hybrid universe actually resulted in such a beautiful thing thanks a lot to your galaxy brain and i'm sorry but now i'm one more anon disturbing you til death to have more of this concept !!!!!!!!!!

No, Anon. You gifted me with your galaxybrain thoughts. This concept has eaten away at me. I love fucking with the dynamic between Alice and Jasper, and the idea that he's some fucked up, mutated version of a hybrid because Maria crossed his path will feed me for a long time. 

I'm still fiddling with how I want to approach this - there's the 'rewriting the canon story beats'. Or there's more of a Jasper-version of Hybrid which is... tempting. I could have fun with that. 

But for now, here's some more from the ficmas version!

He wants to trust Alice.

But it’s hard. Nothing good has ever come from trusting a vampire. Or a woman.

Everything about her seems to be designed to lure him in - her big eyes, the sweet and hopeful smile on her face, the way she fusses with her gloves and hat and shoes. She smells like good things, safe things that feel like he dreamed them once. He really does want to trust her.

But he can’t.

The room that she’s rented for them is small but clean and warm. He wasn’t expecting that. Or the fact there’s a weather-beaten suitcase with clothing for him on the bed.

“It was easier to tell the landlady that you were my husband,” Alice says apologetically, as she takes off her coat and hangs it up. “If we’d traveled as siblings, more questions would have been asked.” There’s a tarnished brass ring, held on with a slip of paper, on her left hand that she slips off and into thin air. “She has assumed you were a soldier, which will work in our favor.”

He nods dumbly. Cover stories are nothing new, and this one is sturdy. But it makes him feel like he’s caught in a net and he can’t get free if everything turns sour with all the details already figured out for him. He wishes he knew if he could trust her.

Alice watches him for a moment, and she looks almost sad before she gestures to the suitcase. “Take what you need - the washroom is at the end of the hall. If… if I fetch you some food, will you eat?”She sounds oddly tentative making that offer but he nods. He’s not sure what he will eat - he existed on human blood for so long that human food only does so much; it is essentially medicinal, to keep him healthy and functioning. He can go for weeks, if not months, without much more than a few mouthfuls of water but it will take its toll.

But the blood… the blood he needs to stay in control.

In the washroom, he finds the case is very precisely packed - two outfits for him, all in dark colours and folded neatly, along with a comb and a razor. Soap and towels are provided in the washroom, thankfully. She’s even found him a set of pajamas that smell like soap flakes and dust. But underneath his things is a filmy pink scarf, separating another layer of clothing, and he cannot help but peel it back to see what else is packed in this suitcase.

There’s a threadbare yellow dress with mismatched buttons; a grey sweater that looks miles too big for Alice; a beige slip with a torn strap hastily pinned; a little pouch with an ancient-looking hairbrush, a dirty lipstick, and a brown leather notebook tied closed with some ribbon.

The notebook looks as old as he is, and he feels oddly guilty as he reaches for it. But he opens it and… maybe he can trust her.

The first few pages are letters. Unsteady and uneven, in a small, cramped hand; practicing over and over again until the letters become words. Mostly ‘Alice’ and ‘Jasper’ and ‘Cullen’. Leaning to write until it looks like the hand of someone her age and not someone who seems to have taught themselves.

And then little drawings - he’s stunned to see himself in many of them, drawings the size of postage stamps so as not to run out of pages.

A few sketches of clothing - dresses and coats and shirts. Lists of items, as if her memory cannot retain things. And then, almost in the middle of the book, it becomes … it becomes something he feels like he shouldn’t have seen. Notes on him, for him. Things to remember, things to know. Things that her funny gift has seen.

Can’t get cold or wet.

Doesn’t like milk.

Sleeps!

Pages and pages of notes to herself about him. And instead of being creeping and unnerving, like being watched in the dark, he found it… sweet and endearing, a clumsy gesture of goodwill.

She wasn’t lying when she said that she had been looking for him, waiting for him.

When he goes to put her things back in order, hoping that she won’t realize he intentionally looked through them and just messed them up pulling his own things out, he finds a dirty bit of cloth. There’s mud and old blood on it, and he pulls it out to see exactly why Alice has kept it.

It’s a torn, dirty garment. Not a dress or a shirt, but shapeless. The blood runs down the left side - a distinct pattern. He doesn’t need the lingering scent of venom to identify it, not with the blood splatter the way it is.

This was the garment she died in.

[marcusrobertobaq]

Top 10 stupidest Detroit Become Human dialogues

(this is my opinion)

10.

[falls on the floor in pure drama] Kara: ALICE! GO, ALICE! Alice: No, I won't leave you! Kara: GO! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN! [i mean, u gonna get what i'm sayin' if u watch a video]

9.

Alice: What are you doing? They’re not our clothes! Kara: We need them, Alice. You need something warm and I need to get rid of this uniform. Alice: But, that's stealing! We can't do that!

8.

JB300: Markus? Is that you?.. I tried to reach you, but the deviant hunter stopped me… Connor [pretending to be Markus]: You stopped him from finding me, you saved me! You saved Jericho. You'll be all right now. I came to take you home. Give me the location to Jericho. We gotta leave now. JB300: The location of Jericho?.. Yes… Yes, of course…

7.

Markus: Humans hate us… They want to destroy us 'cause we refuse to be their slaves anymore… I'm not gonna stand around and wait for them to slaughter my people! Carl: You used to be so calm and thoughtful… Now all I see is anger…

6.

[deviant Connor + hostile Hank + peaceful/neutral Markus] Hank: For a while there, I believed in you, Connor… I thought you might restore my faith in the world… But you just showed me that androids... Are our creation… Creation in our own image. Selfish, ruthless, and brutal… You opened my eyes, Connor. Made me realize it’s hopeless… Hank: Now leave me alone… Go on, complete your mission, since that's all you care about. GET OUTTA HERE!

5.

Kara: Why are you helping us? Most humans hate androids… Rose: My people were often made to feel their lives were worthless… Some survived but only because they found others who helped them along the way…

4.

Hank: When I was hanging off the roof, back at the urban farm, you let that deviant go in order to help me. You put my life above the mission. You showed empathy, Connor. And empathy is a human emotion. Hank: Back at Stratford Tower, when that android was shooting at anything that moved… You protected me… You... Risked your life to save mine. That showed empathy, Connor. And empathy is a human emotion.

3.

Hank: You're a lowlife! You don't feel a thing, do you? A machine! That's what you are! You're just a fucking machine… Connor: Of course I'm a machine, Lieutenant. What did you think I was? Hank: I thought you… I thou-… Fuck.

2.

[shoots the non-deviant Connor] Hank: I've learned a lot since I met you, Connor. Maybe there's something to this… Maybe you really are alive. Maybe you'll be the ones to make the world a better place… Go ahead, and do what you gotta do.

'

Markus: You betrayed me! I trusted you, I don't know how you could turn on me when our people needed me the most! North: I know how you feel, Markus. You have every right to be angry with me… Markus: You’re goddamn right I do.

Honorable mentions

It's just impossible listing only 10 so i gonna add some honorable mentions:

A

Hank: Nothing else matters to you but your goddamn investigation, huh? No doubts, no mistakes, no weaknesses… Human being, just like me… Only perfect…

B.

Kara: I don't care whether she's human or android… She's just someone who matters to me. [30 seconds later she's pikachu-face surprised with another YK500] Luther: You knew from the beginning. You just didn't want to see it. She wanted a mom, and you wanted someone to care for. (...)

C.

[full friend Hank + empathetic Connor + remain a machine] Connor: After all we've been through… I respected you, Hank. I thought we were friends! Hank: Oh, yeah? I was just starting to like you too! But then I realized you'll never change! You don’t feel emotions, Connor, you fake 'em! You pretended to be my friend, when you don’t even know the meaning of the word!

[staticintone]

RAM headcanons—because this AU is living rent free in my head. Keep in mind these are just mine, and have no bearing on the actual AU content and can be adjusted.

Alastor’s first time playing Frankenstein was against his father. (True for most verses—including main—but leaves a distinct impression on RAM verse.)

This was in a purely physical way. He pulled apart his father’s body and put him back together in a grotesque way. The creature he created couldn’t speak, see, or even breathe properly. He used his stitching to make sure it stuck, but was shocked to find out the changes he made were permanent despite regeneration. This gave him the confidence that he could do something similar in the future.

Niffty’s “adjustments” were made out of kindness.

In this verse, unless playing with a Niffty or otherwise specified, she is his half-sister Alice Seymour. She had a horrible life, repeating cycles instilled by their father with her husband. She came to Alastor in life hoping he would rescue her, and he refused. When he met her in Hell, she was paranoid and hopeless and he felt guilty for rejecting her before. He promised to make it up to her by saying simply, “I can make the pain go away.”

When it comes to Vox:

—The idea to start the process was something he had in mind for years.

There was no explicit planning. Something he would later come to regret as he found himself out of his depth due to Vox not being fully human. But he definitely had thoughts and theories on what he would do if given the opportunity. They went out the window once he actually had that opportunity, due to his misunderstanding of how Vox operates.

—He didn’t enjoy the torture he inflicted.

Considering it a necessary evil, he had to figure everything out from scratch. Niffty required a lot less physical torment and work, because she was already broken down. But Vox was a complete person that he had to dismantle. As angry as he might have been, there was no pleasure in it.

—Once the torture itself was over, he used audio cues to create a sort of Pavlov response.

Because of his previous assumptions based on his work with Niffty, he was overconfident about how to handle Vox. But the second that he started actually trying to rework the technical side of Vox’s body, he realized he didn’t have the slightest clue where to start. He got around this by using audio clips to figure out Vox’s response to each move he made. If it was acceptable, he moved on. If Vox failed to react in time or in the “right” way, he messed with it further. This was probably what did the most damage overall, as the previous torture was purely physical in nature.

—The quiet reassurance he gave in the final stage was his version of aftercare.

He would have gotten overly touchy, and sickeningly gentle once he thought that he was done. Sitting with a broken Vox and reminding him of happier times with old recordings and focusing on what “matters”. Convincing Vox as well as himself that it was all worth it if they could go back to the way things were.

—And finally, he absolutely thinks he did the right thing.

Despite his frustration in the present, he doesn’t think what he did was wrong. It’s only been messy because he was unprepared, which is the only thing he’ll let himself regret.

[larycentt]

The queen expresses her desire... how can he evade? Trust, but verify - a way that Alicent has been following for a long time. Larys understands and accepts her position, because he himself watches the pieces on the board in silence until the alignment becomes convenient enough for one fatal move. But will Alicent be able to make such a confident and risky move when the time comes? Such things require cold determination, but all that Strong sees in the Queen is her quivering heart.

He is not her father. And he does not dare to demand other qualities from her. However, at the right moment, he will guide her hand. He will guide and convince her that the decision has always been hers for sure and no one else's.

He is her servant. He listens to her words and guesses her desires, fulfilling any of her wills. Larys feels her fear, her dislike and even disgust, which she so politely tries to mask. He remembers the times when her thin fingers were tormented by emotions that could not find any other way out of her fragile girlish body.

During his life, he realized one strange truth: human nature seeks self-destruction. He observed this pattern in many, if not everyone. All of them are the architects of their own destruction... And this trait manifests itself in a variety of guises. But what rational being could want to destroy itself? It goes against the nature of things, no animal would do that. So why is this quality inherent only to people?

Because people were given a mind. Much more complex than that is possessed by animals whose behavior is so easy to predict. However, self-destruction has never been a matter of the act of destruction itself. It's a matter of control. Control over your own body.

There was never any control in the life of young Alicent Hightower. A piece on the board that Otto moved as he pleased, regardless of the consequences of each move.

And now she's caught in His web. Alicent understands this very well. But she can't get away from it. And he can't hide. Larys can sense her tension, the hopelessness she feels when she is alone with him. She is a queen. All doors are open to her. Everyone will bow their heads before Her Majesty. And yet she can't get rid of him. Can't stop him from visiting her. Cannot order her own son to burn the cripple alive for his liberties. The Queen has so few allies she can truly rely on.

Children ... her main weakness. The eldest son is unreliable, and the daughter seems to live in another world, the middle one tries to be the support of the whole family, but now and then loses his temper if you press where it hurts the most, while the youngest disappears for years in Old Town. Ser Kriston clings to his vows more tightly than to his own life, but if his idol shows its ugly side, his faith will be shaken again.

He is the only one in the whole kingdom that she can rely on. The queen, who is completely dependent on him - a cripple despised by all; a defective man, from whom they bashfully look away. But Alicent is forced to look at him attentively, to look into his eyes as an equal. This feeling alone excites the blood, because at last he gets what he really deserves. All the power and recognition that he was deprived of.

Looking at the cripple, leaning on a cane, people feel pity, but now, seeing Larys, people prefer to step aside so as not to cross his path. Out of respect, out of fear... When Alicente looks at him... he sees her fear, her contempt, her shame - so obvious that it seems that they can be touched. And sometimes he sees hope. Hope that he can do what she so desires. Sometimes he sees her smile, hears her laughter - a wonderful sight, to match her own, as wonderful as he once saw her in the garden.

The fire of her hair reminds him of those malves in the garden, those malves that he ordered to be cut and put in a vase in his chambers. Now he alone decides whether they live or die. But he loved these flowers, probably, most of all.

Alicent holds herself strictly in spite of the emotions that torture her now, he sees this, looking at her with the corner of his eyes. And he accepts the refusal of his proposal with a kind, soft smile, humbly bows his head as if agreeing with Alicent's decision. After all, the desire of the queen is his command. And she still thinks strategically even in such a delicate matter. Alicent repeats herself, as if she's afraid that he will again misinterpret her instructions, placing on her shoulders the guilt for the death and torment of the girl, which is suitable to be her daughter. Larys did not count on Alicent's consent and still achieves his own goal, forcing such a terrible thought to visit her. He understands her better than she can possibly imagine. And knows more than she could guess.

“Whatever you wish...”, Larys answers, looking into Alicent’s eyes and slowly nods. His slender fingers twirl the cane, which glistens like gold in its cracks in the light of the fire. He knows that today she is having dinner with her family and it is time for him to leave her, but Larys also knows that when the two of them are tormented by hunger, they will spend the evening together. Lord Strong slowly rises, leaning on his cane. If he had not been born a cripple, he would certainly have been no less strong than his brother. Larys is tall, taller than Alicent, but his handicap makes him walk hunched over, making his eyes line up with hers when he stands. She calls him by name when she wants him to listen especially attentively, as if not suspecting that he listens more attentively than anyone. Watching with myriads of eyes, listening with a thousand ears...

“...will be done”, his hand, tender, devoid of scars and calluses, which are inherent in ordinary men, knuckles carefully slid over Alicent's wrist.

What is she thinking about now? About the fact that these are the hands of a murderer? That for her, still a married woman, this gesture is more than indecent? What would Sir Christon think if he saw this scene? Shame is so burdensome. Just as burdensome as morality, as blood ties...breaking the latter will be especially painful. Oddly enough, but it is morality, family and duty – the postulates on which her faith rests. And as soon as one collapses after another, she will finally understand what her children feel, soaring in the endless sky. Larys raises her hand and slowly presses his lips to her knuckle, feeling the light aroma of poppy milk and the roughness of the wounds healing on her fingers, which she inflicted on herself.

Being hidden from prying eyes is sometimes extremely attractive, but what a misfortune not to be seen ...

One day, Alicent will see the truth about him, collecting clues, like an insect in a web collecting dewdrop after dewdrop to quench her thirst. And the queen will try to satisfy her curiosity. But even if she comes up with an answer that explains everything to her, will she be able to believe in him or make others believe? This is another question. For her, he will become anything: an executioner and an adviser, an enemy and an ally, a father and mother, a bee and a firefly ... And if she feels dirty, he will help her wash herself, and it doesn’t matter whether from blood, from sin or dirt. Feeling her warmth on his lips, he slowly takes her knuckle away from himself.

“Don't let others define who you are, Alicent”, how many times her name was on the tongue, but did not break from the lips? Saying it now and looking into her big brown eyes is such an extraordinary, sweet metamorphosis of what has been growing between them for so many years. Enclose this moment in amber, like a butterfly, and carry it safely through eternity, when even the names will be forgotten. Her eyes burned like ambers as she brandished her dagger for the delight of the kingdom. This fire of Alicent is contained in itself, as in a cage, for it burns to shine, and not to burn.

“Shame, fear, other people's prejudices and expectations exist only in your head. Freed from them, you will become invulnerable” , Larys looks up at Alicent, “Everything is in your hands.” He turns her hand back down, running his thumb over the lines of her palm. "All the kingdoms... in the palm of your hand." Finally, he lets go of her and bows before leaving her as she wished. And now It's like he's never even been here.

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers - Episode 45

I hesitate to call this the final battle because Digimon's always throwing out surprise bosses. That being said, considering how few episodes are left, this feels like the beginning to the end. They're finally confronting the D-Reaper head-on and they've digivolved to ultimate. The auxiliary folks are joining as well.

Looking back on it, this show has had really good pacing and hasn't really felt long at all. It was less segmented than previous seasons which I think helped it.

Notes:

I thought the kids' speeches in the beginning were kind of clunky. Jian brings up that he was spoiled "as a kid" (you still are a kid buddy) and Ruki talks about her dad randomly. Like...okay...I do get what they were going for, with the overall theme being how friendship has given them strength, but they shouldn't have brought up random stuff that hadn't been established before. Like Jian being spoiled and wanting attention isn't something we ever really saw, so I think he got over that before meeting Ruki and Takato.

Alice being licked by the disembodied head of Dobermon was more creepy than touching. I wish they had at least given him forelegs or something.

Alice walking away from the explosion like an action star was unintentionally funny

Glad to see the ultimate digivolution sequences again, definitely one of my favorite bits of animation from this series.

I guess the army (I know Japan doesn't really have an army...SDF?) has given up on fighting the D-Reaper lol. I guess it's a bit like shooting at a natural disaster: hopeless.

Takato addresses Dukemon by name which took me off guard because, isn't he a part of Dukemon? (Like in Steven Universe, Ruby or Sapphire wouldn't be like "hey Garnet!") Kinda fuzzy how this digivolution works from a body/soul/mind perspective.

Equally confusing is how the digimon are in their perfect forms (Rapidmon, MegaloGrowmon, and Taomon), yet to digivolve to ultimate they go back to their child forms first. (Probably for ease of animation honestly)

I feel like the D-Reaper felt like more of an immediate threat in the digital world. Like it went from insta-destroying everything it touches to just weakening things. Maybe the ultimate forms are more resistant?

I enjoyed seeing Kenta's mom for the first time. We don't get plus-sized (by anime standards) anime moms too often and I liked her design.

Very glad to see Antiramon again! I guess we haven't really seen them fight much yet, so I hope they get in on the action.

Impmon still bullies Culumon in the exact same way but now it has buddy-buddy undertones lol. Nice to see their relationship improve.

So I guess the D-Reaper used Juri to analyze the human race and deemed us unworthy. This is just your average "AI destroying its creator" plot line now. What exactly DOES D-Reaper find useful? I guess the AI learned nihilism and is just like "EVERYTHING IS MEANINGLESS." Mood.

Someone pointed out that Juri's behavior isn't too different than the dark seed kids from 02, which is a good point. With only 6 episodes left...I don't think Tamers is really that dark compared to the other seasons. It had that one episode that got kinda edgy, but in the grand scheme of things, nothing too brutal. Well, we'll see.

[feastonkings]

alice braga / she/her ——— no way is that SOFIA SILVA.. they’re a 39-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being DEFENSIVE & COMBATIVE but there are some people who have seen them being CARING & SENTIMENTAL. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of eating meals in the kitchen standing up, worried eyes staring out the window, if you’re here- you’re family, a trophy case of belt buckles from barrel racing, and emptying wine bottles on the porch when everyone is sleeping, but that could just be because they’re considered the CARETAKER around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: sofia rose silva nicknames: sof, mom classification: enhanced human gender / pronouns: cis woman, she/her age / birthday: 39, april 15th orientations: bisexual, biromantic occupation: owner of silver spur ranch location: outer city status: it's complicated, open WC family: bernardo silva (father, deceased), rosalina silva (mother, deceased), several siblings (WC), luiz (son), ian dutton (cousin), ike dutton (cousin), fern oliveira (cousin) strengths: caring, sentimental, hard working, determined, humble weaknesses: defensive, combative, evasive, stubborn, nagging character inspo: tbd

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: addiction, death, assault, kidnapping, ptsd, abuse

for eight generations, the silver spur ranch had operated in rural texas. it was expected that one day one of bernardo's children would take over and continue the legacy. sofia never expected it would be her.

she has been a dreamer since birth. wanted to fight for social justice, be a rodeo star, become a journalist, and then later in life she just wanted to be successful. one thing her family taught her, however, is if you want something you have to work hard to get it and that is what she has always done.

the rodeo was her first calling, an obvious path after growing up around horses and training them. she started barrel racing as a teen and after high school she went on the rodeo circuit, traveling the united states year round

she was good at it too, held a record for a few years and collected countless trophies. all those rodeo queen dreams died in her early twenties, though. a random accident involving her leg pinned between two gates while heavy horses slammed into it over and over left her with several compound fractures in her right leg and hip.

her hip had to be replaced and she spent half a year recovering between each of the surgeries, then learning to walk again. that did not stop sofia, however it did lead her to an unhealthy relationship to pain medication which eventually led her down a rocky path of addiction.

throughout most of her twenties she struggled, picking up odd jobs and dating the wrong people while her addiction began to take a turn for the worst. she ended up in a treatment program out of state.

she moved into a halfway house after getting cleaned up, got a job at a shipping agency and ended up in a relationship with her boss. an unfortunate reoccurrence for her and as it usually did, the relationship turned sour. he became hostile, controlling and ultimately abusive.

wasn’t long before she relapsed and desperately started searching for a way out. everything seemed hopeless until she crossed paths with an unlikely hero. he was a face and name familiar from the business the ranch did with the family on occasion but she never really paid attention to any of them before.

it was easy to fall for him and he was powerful man that her father urged her go to for help. not one to go against her father's words she did just that and he freed her from that dark situation.

suddenly she was thrust into the glamor of the high life as she unknowingly started a relationship with a crime boss. she didn't ask questions, with him she felt safe again, protected. no more pills, no more struggling, and she did not want for anything.

sofia was star struck and entranced. so much so, that it became all too easy for her to overlook the more dangerous and questionable side of him and his associates. her life was good and for awhile there was nothing that would sway her devotion to the man or his intoxicating presence.

it wasn't more than a year or two into their relationship when she had her son. and he was the light of both of their lives. they got married in a small ceremony and she was ready to spend the rest of her life with him. but things got colder, he was gone more and more.

the breaking point was when she'd been out to lunch with some friends and on the way home, right in broad daylight pulled into a dark van before she could even think about screaming. she was not held for long, it only took a few days for him to find her. but, those days were hell, besides being assaulted and restrained, she spent the entire time terrified.

what made it worse was he acted like it was nothing. just a hazard of his job and she should just let it go. sofia no longer felt the safety she cherished for years with him. the veil dropped and she saw a completely different man. the blind devotion was gone, replaced with an overwhelming fear.

as soon as she could, she packed what she could - took her son and enough money to survive a week and disappeared. she had no clue if he would come looking, all she knew is her life was in danger and she needed to be free.

sofia made her way back home, only to find her father had fallen sick and the ranch had fallen into some debt in result. without a second though, she took care of him until he passed and took the responsibility of taking over the ranch.

it took a couple years to get it back in a somewhat recognizable place, she ended up having to take another loan to consolidate the debt but she is doing the best she can.

she lived in a state of some paranoia, she knows her estranged husband knows where they are. she discovered that when he sent flowers for her father's funeral. a part of her still loves him but that doesn't outweigh the fear she has for him. she doesn't know what he'll do to get his son back or to her for leaving.

she's doing her best to stay busy and keep from getting wrapped up in all of that mess so she can give her son a good life, take care of her family, and make the silver spur ranch the top horse ranch in the country again.

HEADCANONS.

sofia takes care of the workers at the ranch just like they're part of the family. same with her siblings' friends, etc. everyone is invited to dinner and if they need anything she encourages them to come to her.

cooking is her love language but also a stress response, another thing to keep her busy— same with cleaning. hence why she never sits down and it's often a task for people to get her to stop, sit down, and relax.

more to come...

[brightside-brigade]

rambling about chapter 3! Under cut because spoilers and also long.

So, overall thoughts? I enjoyed this experience very much, although I feel some things could have been utilized or used better. Am I saying this because I wanted to see Catnap and the other Critters more? Kinda. I understand that this chapter was more back story oriented and not character oriented, and that kind of shows. But overall I won't complain toooooo much.

As far as everything else, it's good. We're getting into that now.

Let me talk about Catnap himself, or my nightmare baby as I've taken to calling him. Despite being under used for as much as he was hyped, I'm still very happy with his overall appearance. He's not actually a threat up until the end, but can be seen semi frequently throughout the chapter, constantly lurking and observing. Constantly stretching and contorting to find you wherever you may be. His legs are so stilted and stiff. Like fur stretched poorly over bones. As he's meant to be. His bones are visible, and it reminds me a bit of my own decrepit old cat.

As for his second form, I wish we saw a bit more of it. I can see a mix of inspirations in his design, obviously the Cheshire cat, but also the Caterpillar from Alice in wonderland, as guessed by his insect like appearance and the gas expelled, similar to how said caterpillar smoked and produced. I also see some xenomorph in there, looking at the tail and back, as well as his overall hunting patterns.

And for his "death", there's a good bit to be said, though I'm not sure how to word it. We didn't kill him at the end of his boss fight, rather just burned off all his fur. Although weakened he was still clearly alive. However he willing gave himself to the prototype, which given his character points make sense. Maybe the prototype gave him a less painful death than what we would have delivered, or perhaps he's not dead at all, not entirely anyway. He will hypothetically live on in the form of the prototype, but he could also be brought back in later chapters to some capacity Similar to huggy.

The rest of the Smiling Critters though, we do not know much about, apart from what we can gather from the audio in their cutouts. Which, while short, tell us a lot. The ones that stand out the most to me are Hoppy Hopscotch and Kickin' Chicken (who sounds like Ed). Also shout out to Picky Piggy. Cannibalism for the win! (Or maybe not, because its not the same species... hm.)

Hoppy sticks out to me due to how hopeless she sounds. It sounds like she's trying to calm someone (perhaps a child, unfortunately), into jumping "to the moon,". But if I had to guess, it wasn't actually to the moon and was instead a way out of the terrible situation, or maybe she really did think they could escape to the moon. However the last audio clip does have her screams, presumably as she falls to her death.

Kickin Chicken, though, is another story. The most obvious thing is that he's never actually been outside, mirroring the orphans, but it also mirrors his last moments before getting picked off just as he steps outside, possibly outside the playcare. This may have been during the hour of joy, but it also could have been at any time, something done to anyone who somehow escaped the playcare.

What really interests me is the cutouts that don't end in screams. This makes me wonder if Bobby Bearhug and CraftyCorn turned more violent then the others. This does include Picky Piggy, but that one is more obvious based on her audio.

Otherwise, we have Miss Delight. A robotic teacher, who as it seems, knows a lot about human organs. As all things should be. (/lh). It's also heavily implied she ate her sisters, and was highly violent and would have harmed the children if given the chance. If I had to guess, this was prevented by lights being on during the school as the light freezes her in place. She was also honestly under used, her encounter feeling a little too condensed. It's just one time, go go go, and then done. Once again I won't complain mush as this is a more lore oriented chapter.

Unfortunately this is why I have little to say on Poppy, Kissy, and Dog Day. As interesting as they were, Poppy was really just there as a lore vector, Kissy as an emotional grab, and Dog Day to... make us greatly uncomfortable? This isn't to say I don't like them, in fact, I love them! I just find myself wanting more, although maybe not of Dog Day because that was a nightmare on its own. Eugh.

What's really on me though is the overall lore. They really didn't pull any punches. Starting with the PT like section in home sweet home, in which the radios tell us about Elliott, and the child's body they found in his house that was missing bones and organs. You know it's probably on me for thinking he was chill, but. Uh. Damn man. Not cool. (Also shout out to that whole section for the hallucinations bit. Re-Village style, makes me very happy to see.). Of course, he was already dead and I suspect just as well he could have been set up by whoever took over the company.

The most viscerally upsetting thing is arguably the cribs in home sweet home. The broken and bloody toys inside them do not bode well. You look and just know something awful happened. And it did. This and one of the tapes in which a couple comes to pick up a child to adopt, only to find out he's been taken for testing. This paints an overall bleak and disgusting picture of the company, which is what we all suspected, but somehow even worse and more blatant. I'd say the whole hour of joy was warranted, in a way, minus the innocents that got caught up in it.

Aaaannnd there you have it! A very disorganized ramble about chapter 3. I overall had a great time! I can't wait to see how much worse/better it gets in the future.

[tinietaehyun]

Goshh, the new series sounds sooo interesting!! Honestly might have to revisit how alice in wonderland went cause I haven't read that story again for years and I kinda don't remember half the things 🤣😭 will read this series after you post more parts.

Till then, I've actually not been on Tumblr for a while and just came back yesterday, so I just read your Invite fic today cause I had started that before but hadn't been able to complete it. Let's just say I love twisted and dark endings 😭🤌✨ and the "little healer" reminded me of the "pretty human" from Taehyun being a siren in the other series so much 🤣😭 obsessed with supernatural TXT giving us nicknames ✨🤌

And there were so many snarky comments which kind of reminded me of Forsaken and how Taehyun's character was written there. I know I'm too hung up on that series and it's been so long since you completed it and bringing it back again and again might get boring 😂😅 but I wanted to let you know something.

I started reading fanfics about 3 years ago and I had come across this fic called "The Painting" on Wattpad for BTS Taehyung. I still remember that series and as I was trying to build my personality at that time cause those weren't some good years, my whole personality got built up after that fic. I became a complete hopeless romantic who loved royal and fantasy, and I've read a LOT of fics since then, and I think Forsaken has to be the only one apart from that one that has affected me sooo much and has me hooked.

Been checking your account since then cause I love the way you write 😭😂🤌❤️✨

I especially loved these fics of yours -

Forsaken

Entranced melody (I think? The siren Taehyun one)

Invite

The ballroom facade (was obsessed with this one too)

Sending love ❤️✨ I know this was long and random but just felt like sharing 😂😅✨

Yes, yes, yes! I love long asks like this, they really do make my day!! Thank you sm for the support and I’m glad you love my writing! Honestly Forsaken was great, I loved writing it and the reactions that people had to each chapter just golden!

Entranced Melody is honestly a favourite of mine in the Mystic Trail Series (but maybe that’s because I’m taehyun biased but-)

And INVITE too! I loved writing that fic! I loved characterising Beomgyu!

[gldnhrt]

alberto rosende, homosexual, cis-male + he/him → isn’t that julian cortez? i’ve seen them hanging out with the siphoner. i hear they're twenty-five, but they’ve only been in alexandria for three years. they seem to be soft & empathic, but also naive & hopeless romantic. it’s cool that they’re capable of healing, molecular combustion, molecular immobilization, and teleportation!

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  001

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  julian jaime cortez 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄  jj ( his friends ) , jules ( brother ) 𝐃𝐎𝐁  november 2, 1998 𝐀𝐆𝐄  twenty - five 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂  scorpio 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑  cis - male 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒  he/him 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  homoromantic, homosexual 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍  ann arbor, michigan 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒  english, spanish, french 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  nurse

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  002

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌  alberto rosende 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑  dark brown 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  brown eyes 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  5′9″ 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  none 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒  none 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄  white shirts, black button ups, suits, brown jackets, beanies, knitted sweaters.

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  003

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘  architect ( intj ) 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  soft, empathic, observant, festive, enthusiastic 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  quiet, discreet, naive, overly optimistic, sensitive 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓  playing guitar, painting, working out, reading books, writing, bike rides, walks, music. 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 verse-bottom 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  iced coffee

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  004

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑  TBD 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑  TBD 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  older brother

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  005

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋𝐒        peeta mellark ( the hunger games ) , peter parker ( spiderman ) , alice cullen ( twilight series ) , apollo ( greek mythology ) , sora ( kingdom hearts ) , theo engler ( you ) , ricky bowen ( hsmtmts )

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  006

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

julian cortez was born on november 2nd, 1998.   as siphoner, it was very ironic that his birthday ended up being on dia de los muertos.   how ironic it was that he himself was a little dead inside knowing he had no powers of his own. he wasn't fully there.

julian was born in a powerful witch coven, one that was proud of their powers. and julian was excited for when he would show magical abilities of his own, but when nothing came, he felt like the odd one out amongst his coven.

the day he discovered his powers, he was terrified.   he had the ability to do everything witches do, but he had no actual magic of his own. when he siphoned his older brother, that was when everything changed. he was only thirteen.

that whole time, he stayed quiet about his powers. he knew what it meant to be a siphoner, and his older brother was so protective over julian, so he kept it quiet, telling julian to keep acting like he was just human and the magic had skipped him. that was better than their parents finding out the truth.

his older brother made sure that every morning julian can siphon a little bit of magic for julian to store for the day, so that he can use it for protection. and most times julian just practiced his magic here and there before the magic was gone for the day.

for the next few years, julian did stay low. but he was so curious about his power. so he practice with the little magic that his brother let him siphon.

for years, julian felt broken, getting frustrated when the magic was gone, feeling like he wasn't whole.   but when he did nursing school, it had become the one thing that had helped him, because he wanted to do good, and thought the only way he could help was to ease those that needed it, help them to go on their way to a healthier and better self.

in college, he met a fellow supernatural, who never judged him, who got close with. with their help, julian got to siphon a bit of magic from him so that he could at least learn a little more advance stuff.

he graduated nursing school, even if it took longer than most.  but he did that.  and when he got a job offer at alexandria, where he was eyeing, finding out there were people like him. he was rather excited, knowing that he wasn't alone.

○ ′ 🌙  –––––––––––––––––––  007

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

OLDER BROTHER:  he was so happy he wasn't alone in this world. his brother was always so protective of him, even when he discovered he was a siphoner. he even moved out to alexandria with julian, and now they share a place together. ( TAKEN by @ )

HIS FIRST LOVE:  julian and his first love had dated all throughout high school.  but what he doesn’t know about his first love was that he was a supernatural.  ( either he was a vampire or a darklighter ).   julian didn’t know that the other would eventually fake his own death to protect julian. julian never felt so heartbroken, feeling the loss of someone he gave his whole hear to. so when he moved to alexandria, he couldn't believe that he was alive and living in the town too.

EX BOYFRIEND:  julian had one other boyfriend in his life, but the relationship wasn’t as loved filled as it was with his first love.  at least at first it was nice, but it ended up getting a bit too much,  maybe the fact that he had found the other cheating on him.

HOSPITAL BEST FRIEND:  seeing as julian was completely new, he had no friends in the city.  so he gets close to some of the people in the hospital.   eventually he makes a few good friends at the hospital, but one he is closest with. they often go get drinks after work.

[lastwave]

hugh its with grief in my heart it was through your post i found out that disco game has gay *undertones* and the two guys kissing is not like.actually the main thing about it

aaoooiighhh. sad that a lot of people seemed to only get that from playing it. the fuckijg themes tho. alice its nuts. at its core its about hope in the face of a hopeless situation. and communism . all the characters are so HUMAN. even the ones you think are the villains at first. harry and titus are really two sides of the same coin. liz and kim have similar parallels. and also its really refreshing to see poor ppl portrayed as PEOPLE. its such a good game . the narratives are insane. i could talk for hours

point being . they dont even kiss. (they are both way too repressed to do that in the time span of the game and also harry literally doesn't remember ANYTHING. it would be weird if they DID) i wont say they DONT have a gay thing going on bc there is like a solid 15-45 minutes where its overtones. (this is out of a game that is like. 8 hours gameplay MINIMUM)

[goldeneyedgirl]

Ficmas 2022: Day 1: Mortal Sin (Jasper/Alice, M)

Hello and welcome to my hallowed annual tradition of fics, snippets, and future projects.

It's been a really long, messy year that took me away from Tumblr but I've been working in the background and would never miss posting fic for everyone. I love the Tumblr Jalice community and cannot wait to getting back into it and being around more often (more on that tomorrow!)

So we start with something dark. I wrote this back in the summer, and the implications are pretty grim but I do love experimenting with Jasper. and Alice's characters, so I couldn't resist. I hope you enjoy it!

Mortal Sin

(trigger warnings: physical and psychological torture, violence, anatomy, assault, period-typical medical neglect.)

Dark Jasper x Alice, Canon AU.

—

Sometimes he wonders how far there is to fall. 

What does hitting rock-bottom feel like? And what makes the intangible ‘them’ thing that he won’t just keeping digging further down? That if they tell him there is no crime, no heinous action that he hasn’t tried, that he won’t take it as a challenge to find some new way to debase himself?

(He remembers humanity better than he should, and he knows that his family worried. He was so charismatic, so charming, but it was like his mother and grandfather could see the vein of rot inside him, the potential for something terrible buried there. He resented them then for being so harsh with him, for correcting him so often and pleading with him to be better. Now, he resents them for being right. And then he wonders if they hadn’t made him into the monster with their sharp fear and urgency and utter lack of faith.)

He’s not that foolish, of course. Rock bottom will be on his knees in front of the Kings, waiting for his sentence. There’s a line drawn firmly in the sand of what is unacceptable, what is criminal, to those ancient bastards, and he will walk confidently down that line to see which of them falters first. 

His story will always end at the pyre. It’s just a matter of when.

—

The asylum is an hour outside of the nearest town, in the middle of nowhere. Just a clearing and forest. A grim, grey building this is not the type of hospital beloved people are sent to - that hospital is closer to civilisation. 

This is where the dregs of humanity are left to be forgotten and lost. Most of them have to be locked up, alone, for the safety of the staff. The rest are locked up to make things easy. All of them are drugged and beaten and starved and tormented; the same hollow look in their eyes, the clawing kind of desperation. 

It is a special kind of hell that admits a child. 

He finds her in the basement, where the hopeless cases were kept before the hospital was filled to the brim with them. She smells like many things - few of them good - but the underlying aroma is that of lemon sugar and mint. Fresh and sweet and he wants it. 

Then he finds her, and he wants more than her blood.

(She’s a little marionette that he wants to take apart and restring. He wants to break her into a million little pieces and then put her back together. Maria always laughed at him, said that he should have been a surgeon with the way he carries on.)

She’s tiny and delicate, stuck halfway between gangly adolescent and malnourished orphan. Her eyes are such a light grey he marvels at them before he gets closer and realises that she’s almost certainly blind. Her black hair curls around her head, uneven and dry, and bruises stand out on her skin like brands. Her little home is tiny and dark, with a filthy pallet against one wall, and about four inches of filthy window to provide light. 

Her emotions are like moth wings against him; they swallow him up so gently that it feels like being full, being satiated, for the very first time since he began this half life. 

He breaks in whilst she’s sleeping, curled tight into a little ball. Under the stench of sweat and piss and medication, the lemon sugar wafts out at him, pulling him closer. 

(Her wrist is so tiny, the skin is nearly transparent. Her eyelids too; just membrane with blue and red veins. She’s a little marionette of  . She’s perfect.)

She sighs in her sleep, and a strand of discomfort drifts outwards. But she doesn’t wake and doesn’t move. 

He’ll leave before dawn, down the maintenance tunnels and out into the woods. He’s not sure why the girl is still alive, honestly, but somehow his human brain is overpowering his predatory side for now. She is something special, and she will be savoured carefully. 

(Down, down, down another few steps to hell.)

—

It has to be said that Maria isn’t thrilled that he vanishes between battles but then, it’s also easier for her if he entertains himself; less to clean up. So he’s allowed to prowl the forests of Mississippi with the blind girl swirling in his mind. 

She is grossly neglected, even he recognises that. The scant meals she is offered are often rancid; she is washed twice a week, if being hauled into an ice bath, or hosed down count as such things.  

But he slowly learns. The girl is Mary. She’s of-age for a vampire - the one rule of Maria’s that is law beyond all else. At least, the only one she enforces without question. If it got back to her that he was stalking anyone under fourteen, his head would roll without ceremony. 

And there’s no doubt that Maria knows exactly where he has occupied himself. 

She’s treated for various things that are just fancy words on the page. Nothing useful, but he prefers to know all he can about her before he approaches her. 

(Ward of the state, signed over by both her parents - the mother’s signature unsteady - when she was ten. Mary Alice Brandon. Babbling visions and nonsense, struck dumb at random intervals. Hysterical. A more perfect victim he could not have imagined. After all, no one is going to believe a raving girl with such a helpful history.)

His plans take shape slowly, and the anticipation is such a sweet thing. He haunts the shadows, watching sweet Mary and cataloguing everything; she behaves like she’s completely blind, her head tilted up as her gaze hunts impossible light. She taps the wall with her fingers as she walks, with a limp (her left ankle is slightly crooked - a badly healed break). Her black hair curls around her ears, but is uneven and unkept. 

She is a mercurial creature, humming and chatting at the nurses and orderlies. They aren’t kind to her and she’s regularly slapped and hit, pushed and tripped. It explains the bruises and abrasions that litter her limbs. The black eyes, the swollen cheek, the ways she coils herself up tight in her sleep. 

But with no specific trigger, no provocation, she turns into a hissing, spitting, feral little beast that hollers and screams and fights tooth-and-nail against the staff. 

He almost admires her rage.  

(The heaving orderly slips into her cell well after midnight, and she lets out a sound of protest that sounds like a sob. It takes no effort to cause a distraction that sends the orderly from her cell; to lure him outside. The man is no one and nothing, human refuse who dares to put his hands on Jasper’s prize. 

It is not a quick death or an easy death, and those that find his remains won’t forget the sight any time soon. But the Major was never known for playing nicely with others.)

—

“Hello, Mary.”

The first time he speaks to her, she’s lain awake for hours - like she’s waiting. He takes that as an opportunity - better that he doesn’t wake her from a dead sleep, panicked and disorientated. 

(As pleasing as a thrashing, panicked victim can be - the pounding heart, the rush of blood, the futility of their fight - he has bigger plans for her. What could be more enjoyable than a terrified victim?

An adoring one.)

She jerks upwards, eyes wide and unseeing. “Who’s there?” she demands, but he can feel her fear, hear the tremor in her voice. The moths’ wings are frantic and he can feel himself leaning into it. 

“My name is Major Whitlock.” He uses his gift to comfort her, to reassure her, his voice smooth and kind. “I’m here to look after you, Mary. I’ll take very good care of you, I promise.”

She’s shaking now, pressed against the wall, her hands clasped tightly at her collarbones, her dead eyes darting futilely. 

“How did you get in here?” she asks, one hand drifting down to tug her blanket around her, and her emotions are punctured with the flavour of dread that the heaving orderly would inspire, and that makes him frown, annoys him. 

As if he would be so crude and clumsy in his pursuit, as if he is no better than that smear of humanity…

“I came because I felt your pain, Mary,” he tries to resume the calm, enticing tones but even she can hear the edge in his voice. “I came because you called me. But I can leave if you don’t wish for me to be here…”

Curiosity spikes and she relaxes somewhat. “You… felt my pain? W-What are you?”

“Someone who can help you, Mary. If you’re willing to help me in return.”

A deal with the devil, a story as old as time. 

The classics are classic for a reason, after all.

—

Mary, of course, allows him to stay. She’s suitably suspicious, but she tells him not to leave. She has many questions about what he is and what he wants. He is amused and a little irritated she thinks she has any power in this situation. But he lets her have this, lets her think that she has any say in what happens next.

(The groundskeeper had been a problem at first. And it would have been so easy to kill him without ceremony. But he’s been so bored for so long that it was more fun to get Peter to lead the old bastard far and away, on a wild goose-chase. Peter was amused that Jasper was going to so much theatricality for one meal, one crazy little blood bag, but he had laughed and called it ‘sport’, and Peter had agreed - keep the old one on the other side of Mississippi, and don’t kill him unless Peter’s own life was in danger. A harmless game so that Jasper could do his work and get all the pieces where he wanted them.)

She never makes the connection between him and the groundskeeper; she cannot see their matching eyes, their matching pallor. She doesn’t notice their icy skin or the fact they only attended to her in the night hours.

He breathes in her scent and lets the emotions wash over him; it’s fascinating how such a slip of a creature could make him feel so full up, his thirst slaked and his gift not needing to stretch out and find something else, something new. He’s never felt that way before. 

(It makes him want more.)

—

It takes a few weeks for him to begin to enjoy the drugs they dose her with. At first they are an inconvenience, because he cannot get a sensible word out of her mouth if she’s conscious in the first place. Mostly, she’s just a limp pile of bones on her pallet, and that takes some of the fun out of it - because he gets inspired to be creative. 

One of the medications gives her back-breaking seizures (he hears the strain and crack of her little bones as she thrashes); he enjoys the way her joints roll and press against the socket, the way her skin oh-so-nearly tears. The way she gasps for air and lets out sad little kitten noises, unconscious and unaware of how he hovers over her like a bird of prey. 

He loathes whatever they give her when they take her out of the cell, when they drag her deeper into the hospital. She returns in a wheelchair, dumped unceremoniously in her bed. She’s still conscious but no longer lucid, and babbles the strangest things into the air. 

(“We are going to be so happy. So happy. A blue, blue ribbon, Jasper. It’s okay, I forgive you, I’m not going to remember a single thing, I promise. Your eyes are the wrong colour. Why are they like that, Jasper? Jasper?”)

Sometimes when she’s like that, he leaves to hunt. Or he holds the rotting pillow over her face until she stops because he’s never asked for forgiveness before, let alone from someone like her. As if he needs some kind of absolution from a girl who can’t even stand without assistance, who is so weak that she screams for the mother that locked her away in this prison. He scolds her afterwards, for forgetting herself. But she’s usually dazed for a day or too, and apologises faintly, confused but agreeable. 

Those are the days he worries that she’ll just go and die on her own. That thought agitates him enough that he kills one of the nurses in a temper, just to calm himself enough to be alone with Mary. 

No, he doesn’t like that medication at all.   

The medication that makes her sleep also offer a pleasing result, where she is limp and pliable. She doesn’t even notice when she wakes up with new bruises littering her torso and limbs; doesn’t suspect a thing when her elbow has been so very precisely dislocated, the bruise spreading like a heart up her arm. Isn’t surprised at the delicate abrasions on her wrists and neck (just enough for the blood to well up, for him to lave up - teasing and taunting and testing himself. Nothing worse than if 

(He grips her by the throat and leaves behind a necklace of finger prints. He praises her lavishly the next day when he sees the burst blood vessels in her cloudy eyes, like she’s smart and clever. She manages a smile at him; she’s still cautious but she gets more comfortable with him night by night. The fastest way, he has found, to gain her trust is through food. She deigns to sit on his lap the day that he brings her fruit and bread, and he praises her some more. She’s right to be grateful to him, but it’s good that she has such nice manners. She smiles for him, and he smiles back even though she cannot see a thing - not the scarlet of his eyes, not the blood on his shirt, not even the vein of mould on the bread.)

—

She cries when he puts her joints back in the socket. 

She cries when he takes them out, too. 

(“Mary, what have they done to you?” he exclaims. She’s confused. “Your poor ankle!”)

 He starts small, with fingers and toes. He cusses out the doctors as he dislocates them and lets the bone roll underneath his fingers for a little while before he puts them back. Then he moves on - ankles, knees, hips, jaw… She howls in pain some nights, and no one comes to her aid. Her face is white and clammy, her eyes wild and panicked but she still thanks him for taking such care of her, and he smiles back at her proudly, 

(He wonders how long it will take her to so willingly allow him to take them all apart at the same time.)

—

He strikes her once. Hard enough that he probably fractured her orbital bone; left her with two black eyes and a bloody nose, cowering in the corner. 

She’d been fretting for days, weeks, over the absence of the groundskeeper. And it had been very rude of her to worry over another man when she already has a guest to entertain. 

But she hate kept on, insisting that something must be terribly wrong. She can’t even remember how long he’s been gone.

(“But you can’t remember much of anything, can you Mary?” he had mocked her, and she had deflated. He began the list of things that she cannot remember, cannot get right - her full name, her birthday, her age, her family, his name… she called him Major Hale one night, after fumbling and stammering for several moments for his name. He’d been cold with her, that she could be so rude as to forget his name, and she’d cried and begged for forgiveness until he’d let her sleep.)

Helpfully enough, Maria had sent a runner to retrieve him, and he’d left without a word for nearly four days. Maria had been annoyed enough when he’d informed her that Peter was occupied with an important task that he wasn’t going to keep her waiting. It was the best part of a week before he made it back, and she had been rocking on her little pallet, waiting. She’s quite clearly drugged, can’t form a sentence, so he puts her to bed and reminds her that no matter how much she hurts him, he’ll always come back to take care of her. 

She cries then, and begs him not to leave her alone again, in a garbled, slurring monologue that only peters off when she finally gives into whatever injection they’ve forced upon her. Just before dawn, meaning that she will only get an hour of sleep before the orderlies come for the patients, to feed and wash them. 

(The drugs are helpful, but the sleep deprivation is better. He can use his gift to keep her from falling asleep well enough. She snatches what she can, mostly when she’s medicated because she’s quite useless when she’s in that state. He never considered sleep as such a valuable linchpin, leaving her disorientated and obedient. It’s very, very easy to rewrite everything she knows when she hasn’t slept in 72 hours because she hasn’t earned it yet.)

She cowers from him again, when he visits, until after the bruises fade.

She doesn’t mention the groundskeeper, but he knows she looks for him, she knows that she waits for him. He can see it in her body language, waiting for her knight to come and save her. 

So he brings her an apple picked from the tree and helps her sleep for almost six hours, calls her pretty and sweet and clever and rewrites the memory in her mind, basks himself in a warm glow in her mind. 

(The next thing she forgets is her own name. But she never, even forgets his again. He finds that amusing, that he is more powerful than all of the rot and damage in her soft little brain.)

—

The day he calls Peter back home is the night after she looks at him, wracked with seizures but still impressively conscious and lucid, and asks him the question. Her shuddering body doesn’t allow him to get closer. 

“Are you going to kill me, Major?” she asks innocently, her head flopped to the side. Her hands are curled, arms bent awkwardly against her chest. It’ll take hours for the muscles to relax, for the limbs to loosen up - that it took a whole day last time, and she had cried with relief as she got each joint back under her control 

“Excuse me?” His voice is quiet and cool, and he’s furious that she’s implying his plans are so easily untangled. Is death his goal? No. Will it be the end result? Probably. But she’ll die willingly, devoted and trusting with lemon sugar on his tongue, and the softness of moth-wing emotions against his skin. 

She chokes for a second and closes her eyes. “I-I see so many things,” she rasps. “No one ever believes me, but the things I see…”

“What do you see?”

She arches her back as the seizure takes control before she’s blinking owlishly at him, as if she’s going to open her eyes just once and be able to see him in all his glory. 

He almost wishes she could. The blood on his mouth and his clothes, the filth, the black-red of his eyes… just once, to see who she so willingly shares her space with. 

“I… I want Eli to come home,” she manages, disorientated. “He’s been gone so long…” Tears slide down her cheek and this time when she slumps over onto her bed, she doesn’t try to resist. 

“If that is what you want, Mary,” he says, and she is too far gone to heed the warning in his voice. 

“Please bring him home,” she whispers into the dark, and he nods before he lets her go, pulling his gift back enough that the seizure swallows her up and she is unconscious in seconds. 

Be careful what you wish for, Mary. I might get jealous. 

—

The Groundskeeper returns on a Thursday, and he stinks of horror and worry and fear when they face off. He’s older than expected, rough and worn. The affection and protectiveness he feels for Mary is practically written across his face, and Jasper is utterly certain that the Groundskeeper has his own plans for Mary.

“You leave her be,” he says with an edge in his voice that Jasper almost respects. “You leave this place and leave her alone. She’s a child.”

“She’s very much not,” he manages with a smirk; letting the old bastard imagine the very worst. But she’s certainly not a child. He would have killed her clean and moved on if she had been. 

The Groundskeeper snarls at him, the rage wafting off him in clouds - fury, resentment, frustration, fear…  

“Are you waiting for that, old man? To play house with the little angel? Make her pose as a pretty, very obliging daughter who would do anything for her adoptive father?”

The Groundskeeper lunges, but he is faster. 

“I can tell you how this ends, if you’d like,” Jasper continues, darting around. “You lose, for the record. And she dies. She dies thinking that I’m the second coming of God, and that you were just another monster in a prison full of them. She’s going to die thinking that you were nothing, and apologising to me for making a mess. That’s what’s going to happen to your beloved Mary.”

“Her name is Alice.”

—

The fight is over surprisingly quickly, and the pieces burn fast. 

Mary is on her feet when he arrives, her worry burning against him. 

“Is it you?” she finally asks with desperation and Jasper almost feels sorry for her. 

“Who are you hoping for, my dear?” he asks and Mary stumbles backwards, sliding down the wall, her dead eyes wide and horrified. 

“You murdered him,” she whispers, her hands clasped in front of her. “You took away my only friend…”

Her tears are silent, and she just stares ahead, her hands shaking. 

“Oh, Mary,” he crouches beside her, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Would you have been so unhappy had I lost that fight? If he had taken my head?”

She jerks away, shuddering at his touch. “He protected me, he cared for me,” she manages. 

“He was so dangerous,” Jasper cooed at her. “He was letting terrible things happen to you, my dear. He did terrible things to you.”

“No, he was my friend,” Mary turns her face away from him - or she tries, but he has a firm grip on her chin by then. “How could you?” More pretty little bruises for her collection.

“To look after you, Mary. To make sure that you are safe,” he repeated but there’s an edge this time. A warning. “I did this for you, Mary. I thought it was what you wanted. To be safe, for me to look after you.” He looks wounded for a second, going to move away. “I can leave you alone, if you’d prefer. If that would be easier for you, I can go away.”

Three, two, one…

“No, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.” Mary’s thin body is against his instantly, her thin arms wrapping as far around his waist as she can reach. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know you only want to help me.”

Lemon sugar washes over him. “I accept your apology. I’m sorry your ‘friend’ was such a monster. All those terrible things he did to you, Mary…”

“…I don’t remember any of them,” she says, her face pressed into his shirt. “A-are you sure?”

“Oh Mary,” he coos. “We’ll talk about that later. You need your rest.”

“But…”

“I’ve got you, Mary. I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you now.

[oxabyssxo]

i've been living in her world for so long, and before that in my ex's world for a decade. and both of their worlds aren't real. i had to adapt to living in this made-up world where other rules apply, where the same action has different consequences, where the victim is the abuser, where the reaction to the abuse becomes a justification of the abuse, where what i've experienced is taken away from me and claimed to be untrue, where my feelings don't matter, but theirs do, where the slightest disagreement becomes a reason for punishment, where everything good and kind i ever did stops counting at the drop of a needle. i live in alice's wonderland, where nothing makes sense, where words are twisted, and abiding by her rules, or my ex's rules, doesn't necessarily even guarantee a good outcome, because really, nothing, nothing makes sense. and it doesn't matter that you point out to them that they aren't making sense in reality, because their illness creates self-fulfilling excuses for everything. if someone disagrees, it's because they're stupid, or just can't understand them, it's because they don't know the full truth. but all that the "full truth" actually is, is a personality disorder. volatile and unstable emotions and impulses and fixations based in trauma that don't make real sense in the real world.

i also have severe trauma. i had it from childhood, teenagehood, and now i have it from 15 years of relationship trauma, which was my whole adult life so far. but i never let that trauma take control like this. i always worked hard to figure myself out in a healthy way, by learning mental health and psychology and goodness, not in the "i need to figure myself out by enabling my impulses, cheating and lying and behaving destructively and doing drugs, everything to escape my internal conflicts" way.

of course my trauma affects me a lot. it's what kept me in these relationships, to a degree. the fact that i really wanted to have their love no matter how they treat me. i wanted to be loved and cared for and to be happy together, because i've been unhappy for my whole life. but they didn't make me happy, not consistently. just now and then. and i accepted it because of my own trauma, even if i think the largest part is simply because i do love them. because as humans, we do match each other really well, we get along really well, just... not when the disorder hits. they are like completely different people from day to day, while i'm always myself, even if sometimes i'm a bit more sad, or a bit more detached, or a bit more stressed, i never stop being a good person, i never dissociate from my own personality, i find ways to handle my struggles that don't destroy my partner or my relationship.... i care, and i always care, and i still care, now, after all that she did to me. and it's horrible to care this much. but i also think it's important to care this much. i think it's important to love truly and deeply, to support others through bad times. but they weren't supporting themselves. that's the problem. even now, she's not taking care and taking steps to do better, and i know my ex didn't either, even though i no longer know what happens in their life, i can imagine with likely accuracy.

im trying to get myself out of this wonderland, i have one foot in her world, one foot in the real world, but that's a grand step for me. i'm meeting people that aren't like her, that aren't living in delusions. it's so tragic. she hated her mom for her mom's delusions and abuse so much, but she's recreating the exact same thing. i really wish things would've been different. i really wish she'd have trusted me and let me help her before things became like this. i really wish her country had adequate support for her illness, because she's not getting any help, not even when she tried to call the right clinic during a brief moment of clarity. it's so hopeless and so tragic, and i miss her so much, and i love her with all my heart. but i have to keep grounding myself in the real world and not let her keep me in wonderland.

[misophorism]

Captain's Log #3

This is a somewhat unfocused Captain's Log. I typed this recently, and wanted to put it somewhere.

I have no hope at all. None. I will die and this will have all been a waste of time.

When it comes to ASF, Alice has a lifeline: Amy. She has friends. She has a career—she hasn't taken the bar exam yet, but once she does and passes, she will be a licensed attorney and prosecutor—and she will get another major bump in five years (Goodridge v. Department of Public Health in 2003 will allow her to marry Amy). I do not have any of these things. Alice has friends who care deeply about her. Most of the people in my life would probably not notice if I hanged myself for several weeks.

When Alice is drinking herself to death slowly, all of these thoughts are reflected, particularly in her vivid imagination of her death ("What if if Amy slid the key into the lock, pushed open the door, and found Alice’s stiff corpse, vomit pooling on the floor and alcohol’s stench radiating off of her sallow skin? Would Amy weep? Call Lauren? Try to wake her up? No. So why bother stopping?"). That is essentially what my head is like all the time.

And in TMT, there's probably the most accurate reflection of my mental state: "I’ve resigned to depressive futility and unabating resentment. Others sometimes assure me that I’m 'strong,' which couldn’t be farther from the truth. I withstood all of this not because of any strength, only impotence. To the happy man, Death is easy: a misplaced step, a lapse of reason, a turn too soon. To the depressive, Death is impossible: a snapped rope, a vein missed, a jammed gun. The result was nothing more than learned helplessness. After so many attempts, I’ve lost hope in my final exit."

In ASF, Alice is heavily based off of my own experiences, but we are not the same person. I have tried over the years, much harder than Alice, to make lasting connections, to communicate with people my needs, what hurts me, my post-traumatic stress, my despair, so on and so forth, self-pitying bullshit. It never works. I have people in my life who I love deeply, but I provide things for them (a listening ear, help with writing, etc.). I struggle to feel that they would care about me as a human being if I did not do these things. And even if they did, I have no sense of community, I try and have tried harder than all of them to maintain these relationships—except for Helia—and there is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that if I put a barrel in my mouth the response would be silence.

There are plenty of good people in the world, hopeless romantics, and genuine empaths. None of them care about me, and nowadays, I do not care about any of them. This used to bother me severely. It doesn't anymore. I have accepted it. I do not matter to people, my voice does not matter, and my life does not matter. That is a fact of my life, and I am fine with it.

It isn't sad. It isn't depressing. It's a fact of life.

I don't think I have no positive qualities, that's not it; I have plenty. I have plenty of bad qualities as well. But I don't think my life is worth any more than anyone else's. There are people whose lives I value deeply, and I would be pained if they died, or left me, or some other fate. My experiences have taught me that almost nobody feels this way about me, and quite honestly, I do not blame them, because I do not believe human existence is a net good. To live is to suffer, to fight, to struggle, and humans are nothing more than a cosmic aberration. We're a quirk of fate, and eventually, all of our lives will be snuffed out by the universe. In this sense, it's profoundly delusional to think I matter at all, and even if I reject this sort of cosmic nihilism, I do not see the value in my life on a personal, interpersonal, or intellectual level. I see the value of my books, of course, I think they're pretty good. But I am worthless.

And that's everything I wrote. Still rings true.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I love your thoughtful responses to all the random-ass questions we send you! I’m honor of that, here’s another. What if Edward lost it in the meadow and tried to attack Bella, but her gift leveled up and exploded him in self-defense in the millisecond before he reached her?

Thank you!

As for your question, well, you said it yourself: Edward explodes.

Alright, Alright, I'll Answer

Bella did not see this coming.

She'd just learned that Edward was a vampire, today she got to see him in sunlight. Finally, after weeks of hopeless pining and intrigue, their relationship had crossed a barrier she didn't hope could be overcome.

Then Edward exploded.

Bella stares in shock.

This can't be real.

This didn't happen.

Edward was literally just there.

Then she remembers he's a vampire. Is this... what he was talking about? He said he couldn't go in sunlight, AND HE TOLD HER HE WOULDN'T SHRIVEL UP AND DIE, but did he neglect to mention he would fucking explode? Was this--a suicide?

Bella is horrified as all answers point to yes. So horrified, in fact, she chooses to believe this is a dream.

She'll just leave this meadow, go home, and wake up for her real date tomorrow with Edward.

Trouble is... she's lost.

She wasn't paying attention to how they came. She has no idea where she is, it's certainly not right off a hiking trail, and she's Bella. If she tries to walk too far in the woods: she'll twist her ankle and die.

She tries anyway.

She twists her ankle.

Now Bella's in deep shit.

See, Bella thoughtfully told her father she was going to Seattle, a round trip that takes several hours not counting time spent in Seattle. He won't expect her back all day. She did this, in part, to protect Edward should he eat her as a snack (something Edward found utterly appalling).

Well, that means Charlie Swan has no idea she's lost in the woods.

The other bad news is that the treaty is on and since the Cullens are here Sam's not patrolling in Cullen territory. They also really don't want the Cullens knowing they have shapeshifters again. So, Sam's not going to find her this time.

It's going to be up to the Cullens.

Trouble is, they're distracted because Edward exploded.

If Alice sees the explosion, it's likely just before it occurs. It's not like the weather in which it's a thing not decided by human action (it's decided by Edward losing control) which was a 65/35 chance in the meadow. Alice could only see that Edward was likely to lose control, not what would come next contingent on that lack of control.

She too is horrified and shocked that Edward suddenly just exploded and...

All signs point to Bella being responsible.

Alice is immediately grieving her brother, she has to tell the family, and that future she had for herself and Bella is now gone. Without Edward, and if Bella truly was at fault, she cannot become a Cullen.

Alice has to tell the family and there's a huge uproar. Rosalie immediately blames Bella for this, as how else could this happen? Rosalie hopes she dies alone in the woods of starvation. Carlisle asks if they won't please stop jumping to conclusions and blaming the girl and see if this really happened, Alice's visions have been wrong before.

They go to check: Edward is gone as is Bella, though Bella's trail still exists.

And then there's the what to do about Bella vote part two. And it's even more contentious. One, Bella now knows that Edward is a vampire, she is a human who knows the secret and it is turn or die. There is nothing tying her to the Cullens and no one wants her around. Two, Bella just blew up Edward. Probably.

Jasper doesn't want to take the risk with this potential gift and she's now a violation of the law. He does not want that around. They should tie up loose ends and kill her. Though, with that gift, he's thinking poisoning should be how they do it. (Regardless of the vote, Jasper plans to do this himself).

Alice abstains. She's too heartbroken over all of this to vote one way or another though Bella now terrifies her, and the future is ruined anyway. By abstaining, Alice implicitly votes murder.

Rosalie votes murder for vengence and also because she does not want to turn her brother's murderer and pet human to live with them forever.

Emmett votes with Rosalie: killing Edward was so not cool bro.

Esme votes for Bella to be turned. She wants to know the girl who captured her son's heart and if that's the only good ending that can come from this then so be it. She certainly does not want to murder her.

Carlisle finds himself impressively outvoted as he tries to argue a) Bella is an innocent 17 year old girl b) they have no way of knowing she murdered Edward or even intended to if it was an accident c) they're talking about cold blooded assassination... again.

Feelings are running too high this time though.

More to the point, Jasper ain't listening. Jasper finds Bella in the woods first, takes her home, and has her unwittingly drink poison. It's framed that Bella killed herself after (perhaps) murdering Edward.

[noxwithoutstars]

Queer books pt. 4 (I think)

All these books are recommended!

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: fantasy, historical retelling 

7/10

Ok I finally got to read it (ignore me being super late lol). In a historical retelling of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, Madeline Miller tells a heart-wrenching tale of two lovers torn apart by war and the gods. Her luscious prose brings a sense of hopelessness and humanity into a classic tale. 

Things I liked: The writing. Like Ms. Miller... stop being an good awesome writer! The way she uses words to give the story a rhythm really hearkens to the Illiad, which I appreciated. It was also very enjoyable for me, who’s read the Illiad, to spot the similarities between this book and the other. TSoA also does a good job being a historical book but also making it feel contemporary.

Things I didn’t like: There are two sex scenes (tw). I also don’t like how flat some of the characters seemed. Like Diomedes (I always get him and Diogenes mixed up lol) was just a caricature, and so was Achilles, and Patroclus... I couldn’t like the characters (except for Thetis and Odysseus), but that might just be me. I feel like the overall writing was trying to make up for the lack of character depth. 

A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine

Genre: sci fi space opera

10/10

This is a sequel to “A Memory Called Empire,” btw. Mahit Dzmare, the ambassador from Lsel station to Teixcalaan, is called upon by a desperate few- her former lover and a fleet commander who’s command is slipping- to communicate with aliens who apparently have no language. Meanwhile, the future emperor finds himself caught in a complicated web of court politics and bureaucratic maneuvering. All because of a war that Mahit herself started. 

Things I liked: I don’t usually like space operas but this- I- it’s just SO GOOD. It’s such a delicate balance between plot-driven and character-driven that is written masterfully. And while I do thoroughly enjoy political dramas, to someone who might not, Martine executes the emotion and action in this book perfectly so that it reads like a thriller. I absolutely adore the way Martine writes and talks about colonialism in this book as well- unreliable narrators, intergalactic colonial power... it’s amazing. 

Things I didn’t like: There’s a single sex scene (tw). I don’t have many criticisms for this book. There are few awkward moments driven from crude jokes, but they’re just not my style, so not a big con. 

You Feel it Just Below the Ribs by Janina Matthewson and Jeffrey Cranor 

Genre: dystopia, thriller

9/10

Set in the world of the podcast Within the Wires- but you don’t have to listen to read the book! A damaged manuscript found with the body of the doctor herself tells the tale of Dr. Miriam Gregory life and her innovative memory-wiping technique that was so instrumental to the foundation of the New Society after the Reckoning. What is written is dangerous and appears to be fiction, as there are many unverifiable facts. But perhaps what she writes is closer to the truth than one things. It is left to the reader to find out. 

Things I liked: The MC’s queerness is not a big point in the story. It’s casual and a simple fact in the larger tale. I also really enjoyed the double unreliable narrator trope, as we have the author herself and the footnotes. It keeps you on your toes. 

Things I didn’t like: Honestly there’s not much that I didn’t like. The only comment here would be that the font being so large kind of shocked me when I opened the book. /lh

Loveless by Alice Oseman

Genre: realistic fic

7/10

Finally read it >:3 Georgia wants to fall in love. She can’t wait to go to college and finally have her grand college romance. However, Georgia is aroace. Though it takes some time for her to realize this- and a lot of awkward moments, friend drama, and a desperate Shakespeare production- Georgia finally accepts her orientation for what it is. Sometimes friendships are more important than romantic relationships. 

Things I liked: The way Oseman writes her characters is absolutely flawless. I can feel their character development through the pages, and they’re very obviously complex characters and not plot devices. I also liked the way she handled intersectionality in this book and how she emphasizes that love doesn’t just mean romantic love. 

Things I didn’t like: For and aroace book, this one is still really allo.  It really glorifies love (according to definition above) and makes loving your friends platonically seemingly redeeming of being aroace. I understand that’s how it is for some aroaces, but this book only represents that type of aroace and pushes others under the rug. It has a romantic sublot as well, which kind of ruined the book for me (I’m romance-repulsed). Also, Sunil is introduced as he/they, but Oseman, through her characters, only refers to Sunil as ‘he.’

[astrolovecosmos]

Neptune: Deep Dive

Pink petals

fallen onto

night shaded

waters.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

Wood turned to metal.

Reality turned to dreams.

-Natasha Reeves 

The planet Neptune I think is most famous for two things - illusions and dreamy or ethereal associations. A lot of negativity is also commonly associated such as addiction, insanity, guilt, sorrow, denial, and doubt. This planet is complex and just like all the other planets has a huge array of associations. What prompted me to do a deep dive in Neptune? Well for one I’ve been going through the transit of Neptune in Pisces crossing over my IC which has been powerful and I am at the end of my progressed Moon in the 12th House. Also in my own chart I’ve been paying more attention to my natal Neptune placements... which are a lot more prominent and worthy of my attention than I’ve understood and noticed in the past. Honestly I spend a lot more time analyzing others’ charts vs. my own, and I really should have looked more closely at some of my own aspects. I have had a LOT of experience with Pisces influences throughout my life, intense ones. I want to make it clear that Pisces DOES NOT = Neptune. I’ve always wanted to write a whole essay about my experience as a Pisces friend, lover, family member, enemy, etc. An outsiders opinion but that isn’t this. This is a disclaimer because this is going to be both theory and my own experiences. This is a deep dive. 

The Sea’s Love and Wrath 

Neptune in a lot of mainstream media is described as gentle but this planet can be unpredictable and harsh, with erratic energy that could rival Uranus. Neptune can be about tolerance and kindness, seeing past the ego and material. Neptune can embody or promote unconditional love and forgiveness. Because Neptune can be about dissolving and merging this planet allows us to see ourselves in others, maybe even in everyone allowing for compassion, empathy, and the ability to love very freely and openly. But the illusion and deception of Neptune is its shadow. 

Romanticizing and idealizing can be one of Neptune’s downfalls. Many times this is described as putting other’s on a pedestal but this can be applied to any area of life from work to places to ideals. From this those with strong Neptune aspects or prominent placements can find that disappointment is a frequent visitor. Neptune square, opposite, or conjunct Venus can quickly fall for others, trust others, and gravitates towards those they want to help or who have a strong personality they can meld with. Neptune opposite or square Mercury may face the frustration and disappointment of frequently being misunderstood or finding that they easily misread others or trust their words. After feeling tricked there can be wrath to these oceanic bodies. 

Where will their vengeance or anger land? It isn’t fair if they idolize you to get mad at you... sometimes their anger is self-loathing and self-destructive, other times they take you down with them. But the lesson is that Neptune can be as soft and as dangerous as the sea. 

Enlightenment and Madness

Coming down from the high, was getting lost in Neptune’s blue. Dreams and visions dancing in the back of my mind, when reality is so hard to chew. Sensation used to distract and pieces of stories stitched together to where nothing is fact.- Natasha Reeves 

There are many influences that can grant us wisdom or enlightenment throughout astrology, but I don’t see too many writings or posts about Neptune and its connection to enlightenment, nirvana, or eurekas and on the flipside also insanity and denial. Neptune can pull away the fog to give us clarity - especially when looking at the whole of things, the big picture. Neptune can famously also be the fog. 

The transit of Neptune crossing over my IC/4th House brought a lot of light to my childhood and how I was raised. However my IC is in Pisces, while Pisces isn’t the same as the planet, and many astrologers believe Neptune is not the ruling planet of Pisces - it is a sign known for illusions, confusion, and vagueness much like Neptune. I came from a place of a lot of secretiveness and vagueness, but when the “planet of illusions” crossed over I found myself accepting the instability and moments I felt lost or clueless in my life as well as looking back with remembering and understanding. 

Neptune can represent the part of us that is hard to grasp and understand, it also faces us with the idea that it is okay to have unanswered questions, to not have closure, that many times we have to create that closure or solidity ourselves. Neptune much like Jupiter is a matter of faith whether in ourselves or a higher power. 

It should be noted Neptune doesn’t always mean outside sources. Neptune is an introverted, intimate actor. It can represent how we lie to ourselves, trick ourselves, or how we push responsibility off of ourselves. Neptune also allows us to see, understand, more importantly feel what we easily ignore or can’t see. 

Life’s Extremes - Our Extremes 

“Neptune moves between the greatest extremes: from the highest spiritual awareness through imagination, fantasy, and illusion, to the depths of deceptions and disillusionment. The planet of mysticism, glamour, and enchantment, Neptune exerts a hypotonic fascination.” - Judy Hall. 

When many think of extremes they probably think Pluto before Neptune. The blue sphere isn’t going to take away the icy orb’s reputation - Pluto holds tightly in terms of extremes, but Neptune is far from a level-headed, consistent influence. Let’s touch on fantasy and illusion - two things that tends to warn of foolishness or impracticality, but fantasy is part of everyone’s life, no matter how pragmatic or mature an individual claims to be. From coping to manifesting to understanding to enjoying, fantasy is a natural human thing. Think of how often you daydream in an hour, how many books, movies, and games you indulge in, how often you find yourself being tempted by gossip, and how often you find yourself painting a picture of another in your head - negative or positive. 

Neptune symbolizes the abstract, importance, and rawness of our fantasies. Individuals with prominent Neptune aspects can find themselves easily tapping into their imagination, falling into escapism frequently, or have a great use for their wild ideas. If you think of the subject of fantasies or illusion as an extreme - it makes sense. You aren’t going to get an interesting story without the gods and monsters. Our sleeping dreams often are filled with strangeness or strong emotions. Clarity to madness, hopeless romantic highs to deeply wounded sorrows, and dissolving/surrendering to becoming whole/complete are common extremes this planet centers around. 

I have Mercury Square Neptune which tends to make one doubtful of their own opinions and intellect, can increase misunderstandings, and make communication difficult for the individual. Mercury Square Neptune can make someone highly persuasive and deceptive but it can also make one easily confused, tricked, and manipulated by others. Rationality and intuition can conflict. One experience I have with this aspect is usually swinging from extremes to being very withdrawn and quiet to interrupting others, chatting away. I’ve been described by those in my life as always saying something they didn’t expect - few words but impactful or strange ones. This is an example of the more everyday way Neptune can present itself.

“Neptune-attuned people possess glamour in the old sense of the word: the ability to bewitch. They are also impossible to categorize or pin down, demonstrating the planet’s elusive quality. Lacking strong boundaries, Neptune-attuned people are susceptible to outside influences.” - Judy Hall. It is from these lack of boundaries and fluidness we see Neptune’s extremeness. Neptune aspects can have us take on the traits of others and there is intensity in that. Let’s say we are talking about a Neptune to Mercury aspect, here may be someone who is easily energized or put down by the mood of another. Neptune to Mars can create a volatile person who fights, guards, and pursues based on their inner circle. 

Alice: Imagination and Dreams 

Personally I tend to associate Alice in Wonderland with Gemini themes. But I’ve seen her used as a metaphor for many placements and influences, such as Scorpio and Pluto. Neptune’s lostness certainly relates to the character and story. Neptune can be the planet of dreams. Challenging aspects to Saturn indicates someone who struggles to get in touch with reality while easy aspects to Saturn indicates someone who can marry big dreams or imagination to practicality. 

Neptune to Moon aspects can indicate powerful dreaming - almost intuitive or helpful in processing stress or trauma. So does Neptune in the 12th, 4th, 8th, and possibly 9th. Neptune in the 2nd can mean imagination or even dreams themselves act as a resource, maybe this is through inspiration or increasing one’s belief or confidence. Neptune in the 3rd may find themselves always remembering their dreams and keeping a journal. Neptune in the 5th blessed with all of the fun dreams of flying or dreaming of a favorite fictional character. Neptune in the 6th or 10th may find strikes of inspiration, knowledge, problem solving, or important foresight in their sleep. Neptune in the 11th may find comfort or realize important information about self and/or society in their dreams. 

Neptune is a newer planet, many times called the visionary, healer, or spiritual link or messenger. Traditional astrologers can approach the planet with a lot of skepticism. Its exaltation is in creative Leo, detriment in practical Virgo, and fall in usually praised as “visionary” Aquarius. Neptune is still new enough to be a hot topic of debate. You will find many astrologers don’t even agree on the planet’s exaltation, fall, and detriment. Leo is considered one of the most creative sign and on the topic of imagination and dreams Neptune can feel amazing in this sign. It feels confident and shinning in its ideas, fantasies, and magic. Elusive and ever-changing Neptune doesn’t feel comfortable in stable and structured Virgo. But Aquarius is an unexpected challenge for Neptune. Aquarius is about collective action - unity that Neptune also is familiar with. But Aquarius is a cold sign and despite its unconventional side can be highly practical and may dislike unrealistic ideas or approaches. Saturn is Aquarius’s co-ruler after all. Neptune wants oneness as in intimacy, not oneness in action or rebellion like Aquarius. Neptune is the magical moonlit spring to heal all your wounds, especially the emotional and spiritual kind. Aquarius is the soul forge in Asgard from Thor: The Dark World or the hypospray in Star Trek. Aquarius is modern medicine most of the time and when Neptune is dressed in Aquarius’s colors at its best it is advanced medicine we don’t understand yet but are working towards. Neptune in Aquarius can be a genius, but it is about ambitious realism to help others, Neptune at its heart is about helping the individual on the most personal level. Aquarius is random strikes of lightning coming from an active mind while Neptune flows from one spot to another, always connected and coming from an original primal, emotional place. Aquarius is the future, Neptune is outside of time. Aquarius is intellect and Neptune emotions and intuition. Aquarius is rebellion, riot, revolution, Neptune is peace or death and rebirth - Aquarius is the noise and Neptune the silence. 

Some believe Neptune’s fall is in Capricorn, which the struggles exist with Capricorn’s strictness and clinging to reality and control. Neptune in Leo is Alice looking regal like a queen or warrior going to fight the jabberwock, Neptune in Virgo can get dark, feeling uncomfortable and maybe in pain, but still important and empowering. Alice in Aquarius or Capricorn is likely a totally new story, adult Alice putting away the tea parties and white rabbits for a lab coat or pantsuit. 

What about Healing and the Spiritual? 

Let’s get to what Neptune may be most known for. That otherworldly connection, the power of love, transcendence. Neptune is dramatic and it is soothing. Neptune embraces all aspects of the human experience so we can focus more on the soul. Neptune is all about healing and how healing can come in a million ways. It can be fast and hard or slow and revealing. It is painful and messy, it goes in cycles, loops, falls and rises. 

Neptune whether the aspects are easy or challenging, whether in a house focused on the self or others, it gives everyone ways to heal and to connect. As an outer planet it gives a lot of insight into generations but in the unique placement of one’s chart it touches us with humanity. 

Pretty speeches, enchanting metaphors, crazy nights, and charming lovers lead us to our doom and a raw poem, crying ourselves to sleep, old medicine, late night graveyard walks, and maybe a rebound help us pick up the pieces. Neptune many times shows us that the unexpected is what tears us down and what lifts us back up. It teaches us nothing is inherently bad like substances, manipulation, honesty, authority, it is how it is used. Neptune shows us that you are the hero to some and the villain to others. 

Regret, shame, guilt, feeling trapped, isolation, addiction, grief, and sorrow are closely linked to Neptune. I believe many times this is due to the healing process or spiritual associations of the planet. These emotions are heavy and life-changing but they are emotions that many times need to be faced with a lot of bravery and work. They are feelings that also help us come to realizations. Neptune is associated with rebirth and if you examine emotions like regret or shame, sometimes rebirth is the only way you can shed those feelings. Neptune’s fluid nature also allows us acceptance, which is needed to deal with such heavy emotions. 

While we always talk about the lack of boundaries as a dangerous or bad thing... and it can be, these lack of boundaries like I mentioned above can allow for a very giving love and empathy, it also allows us to feel or interact with a higher power, magic, and the spiritual. Whatever your beat is - religion, magic, or the belief we are just star stuff, Neptune symbolizes our relationship with it.