#but i'm not strong enough to do that am i

[lalchimiedecupid]

it's all fun and games until I start hating you and I hit you with a large ass essay that expresses my frustration and exhaustion with your neglect and the hurt you've caused me.

Exemple:

To my dearest boy who broke my heart and left it to pieces with one missing shard in hand that keeps it from healing:

Love. A vile and twisted thing you remain in my eyes. For I have never loved someone and got to keep them in my heart for all eternity. It seems like the universe, God, have odd ways of pulling their strings when it comes to love, slow, torturous and often unexpected goodbyes grace us at the end.

It's been six months since you left me. Six long and excruciating months, and I can not put into words the disdain I feel towards you. Yet, I find myself staring longingly at you, find my heart racing at your mere sighting. You've become a dependency of mine, destructive yet fulfilling like the crimson drink I drown myself in. Like the pills I abused my body, my organs and my mind with. You'd bring me a sense of Euphoria, but what did it leave me with once your presence was gone? Pain. So much pain I can not even manage to put it into words. You were my oxygen. My will. My life. My sin and my soul. You were all that I needed. You were all that I wanted and still want even more. What should I call it? Soulmates who were never meant to be? Right person wrong time? Strangers to friends, friends into lovers and what now, strangers again? How low do I have to stoop down in order to make you want me again? I know you still want me, I can see it in your lingering eyes, yet you offer me silence and silence all over again. What did you do to me? What more could you possibly want from me? How much do you want to see me beg and try to make it up to you for all the hurtful words you've heard from my friends? How many "I'm sorry" do you want to hear fall from my lips and seem to always land onto deaf ears? What more do you want from me? Why do you ignore me again when you promised to be my friend? Was I not enough for you? Is it that hard to forget the girl you wanted beforehand? I know I am delusional to hold onto a love that clearly has perished long ago, but please for the love of God, let me cry into your arms for the first and last time so I can truly let you go. Let me sob my heart and guts out to you just for a few moments at least, I do not ask for more. Let me confess my desires , my dreams, my secrets and my pain to you. Even if they shall fall onto those ears of yours that you turn deaf on me every single time I try to get your attention. Let me. Please, allow me this. Let me find solace in your embrace even if it's cold and unwanted. I'd get down on my knees for you and let you kill me with your coldness. Let you freeze my heart and devour it whole if only a piece of me gets to be held by you, my darling boy. You have reduced me to a ghost of the strong woman I once were. And I am ashamed of myself for it, yet I can not even blame you for my downfall, because despite it all, I was an accomplice as well. Destroy me for all you want , I'll always come crawling back to you, with all my broken parts and my gaping wounds, bleeding into your own hands.

Just one last embrace is all I ask of you. I know you'd refuse me more. You cruel bastard. You heartless devil.

Go on and destroy me and watch me build back my pieces only to destroy me again. Go on and ruin me. Go on and put unnecessary distance between the both of us, because you are far too much of a coward to face the truth.

The truth is that you want me but are far too afraid of commitment, of new beginnings that you'd rather stick to the past and hope for the best. Hurt me. Hurt me all you want, but you'd never rebuke me from my church. From my sanctum, from your arms, from your hold. Rebuke me for my sins of loving you but know that I still hold you in high regards, that I still pray for your well-being, for your success, and your future. Know that against all odds..

I still love you.

—C.A

oh to be loved by a poet … 🎀

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Hello friends! It's that time of year when it's time to escape into some nice fics with a hot cup of tea or cocoa. And while, Christmas fics are traditional, I've been reading some vampire fics that I had to share. And I read a vampire book that's SO R/S I had to include it on the list. (Extra spicy).

Below you'll find a link to the first Vampire list I ever made, as well as the new recs. Hope you enjoy!

Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 1

Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 2

New Blood by @gardenoflupins Remus comes to consciousness as a new and inexperienced vampire. In his disoriented state, he leaves a bunch of dead bodies lying around, which gets the attention of a much older and more powerful vampire named Sirius who guides him through the stages of vampirism.

What Lurks in the Shadows by @puuvillaa When Remus leaves work after dark, he encounters a vampire.

all the hot singles in your area are dead by @atroposaeneas The first vampire who comes to campus is annoying. The second one is an unwelcome, if begrudgingly pleasant, surprise. The third, fourth, and fifth vampires, on the other hand… No matter. Remus has been alive far, far too long to have his resolve broken on behalf of someone like Sirius Black.

My Roommate is a Vampire by @moonyverse “Remus! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily asks. He continues wiping, focussing on a particularly stubborn stain. “Tell you what?” “About your secret boyfriend.” Remus spins around. “My what?” “Don’t act so surprised. Your neck is covered in hickeys and you thought I wouldn’t notice?” "Er, yeah… sorry." Remus wracks his brain to think of an excuse. Anything but the truth. He sputters out a lie, "It was a one-time thing, is all." It was better than telling her his roommate is a vampire whom he lets take his blood on a biweekly basis.

I'm starving, darling. by @marigold-hills “Dear gods you are gorgeous,” the man said before Remus could utter a sound. “I’m so sorry about this. Truly. I wouldn’t, but it’s a rather desperate situation you see.” I’m going to get mugged, Remus realised. Here, under the sharp stars, in the soft snow, by the hands of the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on. And wasn’t that just his luck. “Trust me,” the man continued, “I am no more pleased about it than you are, but it’s a matter of life and death at this point, otherwise… well, sorry. Again.” Remus is accosted by a vampire on his way home. Strange in itself. But when the vampire realises he has anaemia, he starts bringing him food. And medication. And nice little treats to make him feel better. And - well. Remus never claimed to be a man of strong convictions.

A Taste of Your Love by starsnsoul “It’s dangerous out here at night,” Remus wet his lips, suddenly aware of how dry they were, “and we’re quite far from the nearest town.” The man in front of him continued to gaze up at him, eyes twinkling with a dangerous look, seeming to dare him to ask risky questions, to probe and let curiosity kill the cat. “What’s your name?” he asked, feigning ignorance to Remus’ concern. “Remus.” He answered without a second thought to who he was telling this to, something about the other man made him want to lay himself out bare, secret’s spilling out into the night air, all the good and the ugly. Something about the other man was dangerous but Remus felt the blood in his veins ignite at the thought. “Remus,” the man with eyes like the moon whispered, “I’m Sirius.”

aka. the one where Sirius is a vampire and Remus a cowboy and they fall in love {inspired by likeafuneral's art and a wip I had going on as well as my life growing up on a farm}

closer to heaven by @moonymoment “And you’re… high.” “As a kite, baby,” Sirius says, clicking his tongue. Remus inhales sharply. “High… on drugs. That kind of high.” Sirius looks at him. “Do I have to do the sarcastic bit again, or is this stare enough to indirectly call you stupid?” he asks, and then makes a Face™ at Remus that falls somewhere between “you’re ridiculous” and “you’re a knob”, although he can’t promise that “I’m morosexual and this close to taking my pants off” isn’t being conveyed as well.

BOOK REC:

Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you're looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with rich, hot, older vampire "Sirius" + nurse cinnamon roll "Remus". Roman by Grae Bryan 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

“And for the record…my demon does not just like you. It craves you. Is obsessed with you. Wants to own you and devour you and never let you go. You would run for the hills if you could hear what it thinks about you. What I think about you.”

Don't forget to share this list with your own recs and leave a comment for the authors. ❤️

Happy reading lovelies, The Wolfstar Librarian

[arilevenatz]

Chasing Shadows - TEASER

Pairing: popular guy!yeosang x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: Angst (?), fluff

Word count: 582

Posted! Click here to read chasing Shadows!

Warnings: kinda frat boy yeosang, him and his friends are handsome (yes that's a warning), reader has anxiety, she is also insecure, anxiety attacks, yeo is cheeky, like really cheeky, you might wanna flick him a bit, bestfriend! San and wooyoung, suicide mentioned. Lmk if I missed any!!

AN: y'all bear with me this is my first time posting on Tumblr, I'm still figuring out stuff. I had a dream about this and I decided that I'm gonna write a yeo fic. And also if you wanna get tagged, you can give your @ in the comments I'll tag y'all. And also please reblog and like, so I can get more motivated!!

"stop mocking me. I know people like you. you guys go up to girls like me and say you like them only to say 'April fools' or say 'its a dare' later. I hate guys like you"

His grin fades, his expression turning serious, but his eyes still hold a glint of mischief. "You really think that's what I'm doing?" He tilts his head to the side, studying your face intently. He maintains eye contact, his expression unreadable. He sees the suspicion in your eyes, and it only seems to fuel his mischievous glint. He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Let me ask you something..." He studies your face intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "First off... do I look like I have a problem finding girls to talk to?" He gestures to himself, a hint of pride in his tone. "And second..." His voice drops lower as he deliberately maintains eye contact. "Second what?" You shout.

He leans in closer, and says "Second, would I really waste my time pretending to like someone just to play an April Fool's prank?" His words send a shiver down your spine as he pulls back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe..." He looks at you with a half-smirk, half-serious expression "You're actually quite... interesting. Not many people stand up to me like you do." His eyes crinkle again as he studies your reaction "And hey..." He reaches over and lightly taps your finger. You retreat your hand from his touch. His expression shifts to a playful pout, though his eyes still hold a glint of amusement "Wow, so I'm not even worthy of a tiny hand tap?" He leans back in his chair, studying your defensive posture with interest "You're not scared of me, are you?" He chuckles low in his throat, his gaze never leaving yours. "listen, can I not just like you? I like you. I want to be with you"

"No! people don't simply like girls like me" you felt like crying, but you can't. His expression turns mockingly serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, so you're saying you're not likeable? You think I can't like you because you're... what?" He crosses his arms, leaning forward again, his curiosity piqued.

"You know what I am"

"No I don't"

"Fuck. Fine! Im fat and ugly"

His face freezes and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. But then, he lets out a harsh laugh. "Fat and ugly? He shakes his head, his gaze raking over your form appraisingly. "You really think that's what I see when I look at you?"

"You don't need to look at me like that, I am like that so fuck off I don't need you laughing at my face."

You stand up harshly, take your bag and walk outside the library. He follows you and grabs your upper arm, not harshly but firmly enough to hold your attention. "Listen carefully..." His voice softens, losing its usual mocking tone. "I'm not some creep who goes around lying to get in girls' pants." You open your mouth to say something but he quickly shits you off. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who's honest, even if it hurts. I see someone who's strong, even when they feel weak. And I see someone who's fucking beautiful, inside and out."

[termitnik]

i've been seeing a lot of people contemplating whether dybowski is still involved with the creative process in pathologic or not and i am sorry to bring this up in such a negative light but may i remind you this tweet from alphyna from earlier this year:

i have not looked into how the creating process works at ipl so in case i'm missing some critical piece of context do correct me, however to me this clearly suggests dybowski still does at least some of the writing (and possibly even has a strong influence over the general writing direction).

dybowski's potential financial gain from pathologic 3 was always enough for me to plan on boycotting the game, however i saw people taking interest on whether he was actually involved with the writing and creative process or not, so i found it favorable to remind people of some information shared by an ipl crew member practically a month ago.

[msfbgraves]

Fanfic authors have been getting increasingly horribly exploited in the past five years especially. Our work stolen to feed AI that is then being used to put other writers out of work. Wattpad antics. The reselling of plagiarised works published for free. And then this trend of not including an author in the gushing about the works. That is like holding a birthday party for a person to share how much you love them, only not inviting them. Because your love for that person is personal to you and your other friends and none of the celebrated person's business. You're shy! You don't know what to say!

I have been incredibly lucky on having had a lot of engagement on Tumblr in the Silverusso fandom, but I have been in other fandoms whose works are still on Ao3 and also still being clicked on, for what purpose I don't know. But with the current climate, I don't feel like adding much more to other fandoms there especially. There's a few Cherik fics I have toyed with updating, but haven't been inspired enough for, knowing that it's like a lottery nowadays. Sure, the effort could pay off, but what is more likely to happen, at least when posting on Ao3 alone, is mocking silence. Deep in my heart I know that some people will be made happier if I did do it, but knowing that others will use it only to enrich themselves is not a joyful thought at all.

Love will get your fanfic authors a long way in sharing their stories, but if they get nothing at all in return, while knowing that people may even be stealing it for their own ends; that is not an environment conducive to writing. It's an abusive relationship, and we all know that not doing anything beats being in an abusive relationship.

I mean, theoretically my works and other works are being enjoyed because there is an outcry when Ao3 is down. But there is a reason people applaud after live performances. If they didn't, people would stop doing it! Even when the reasons to start doing it are mostly altruistic on the artist's part. Everybody tells you in life to stop putting your efforts where they're not actively appreciated. I mean, did Cinderella's stepfamily enjoy the efforts of her labour? Did it enrich them? Likely yes! Would you have encouraged her to keep providing it, even if she may have started out of love for her family's home? Girl no! Even this kind hearted girl left, because that is what you do when your efforts are unappreciated and exploited, even when they're clearly of value.

If I simply posted and got zero response - no engagement even, I could say the fault was mine. Either for being in the wrong place or doing the wrong thing. But when there is engagement, but no appreciation and people are hawking it somewhere, which I now know they are through the mere existence of AI, adding more is an actively stupid thing to do.

I'm not blaming readers exactly, I'm just pointing out that when you're getting no appreciation and are being exploited, continuing to do something isn't wise and stopping an activity (in this case, writing fic) is a rational decision to make! There's more rewarding things anyone could be doing, even if the activity itself is of much value!

Maybe I will post more in some old fandoms or even new ones, but right now, the only thing that could really compel me to post anything when I am not 100% certain there already is an active audience is an obsession so strong it overrides logic. And that will get you some fic, but not multiple longfics, I assure you.

And no updates. Things that aren't nourished die.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 21st of December, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 21st of December, 2024

Question: Is Queen Camilla envious and/or jealous of Princess Catherine?

Interpretation: Yes. Kind of. Queen Camilla resents anyone who gets attention and praise from the public that she (Queen Camilla) sees as attention and praise that should be going to herself.

I'm going to start this reading with the underlying energy, because everything in the reading springs from that.

Underlying Energy: The Empress in reverse

The Empress is the card for Queen Camilla in her role as queen. It is also a card that represents beauty, abundance, fertility, charm, creativity, the mother, the divine feminine etc. In represents the planet Venus, the planet of love, female beauty, charm, attractiveness, generosity etc.

Here, the Empress is in reverse. This tells me that Queen Camilla is feeling overshadowed and /or she is acting out of her shadow side. No one is praising her looks, her charm, her generosity, her way with children etc (apart from obvious PR pieces) and she is upset about it. The energy from this card is one of 'I am The Queen, I expect to be praised to the skies' and of someone being very, very upset that this is not happening and that being The Queen has not magically erased her past from people's memories or changed how they see her. Along with this feeling of outrage at not getting the praise and attention that she thinks she deserves, there is a nasty, sulky, spiteful energy that is hidden behind a layer of 'being nice', and that energy is directed at people that Queen Camilla thinks are getting the praise and attention that she herself deserves.

On top of this energy and powered by this energy is the reading itself, as follows:

Card One: The Ten of Swords

This is a card of despair, betrayal, hitting rock bottom, and the energy from this card is a very strong energy of betrayal. Queen Camilla is feeling betrayed. She expected something different from when she was queen, and whatever it was that she expected, she is not getting it. She is disappointed and upset and feels betrayed - the energy is of someone who felt they were promised a lot of things that have not been delivered (It's almost as though she thought she could walk straight into the place that Her Late Majesty left vacant when she died, and just give it a few little tweaks so it fit her perfectly).

Fair enough, a lot of us have had the experience of wanting something and working for it and then when we get it, finding out that it is not what we imagined and in fact it was not worth the effort we put into gaining it.

However, there is a nasty, 'scorched earth' energy to this card as well as the betrayal energy. It feels like that Queen Camilla is reacting to her sense of betrayal by lashing out and cutting down anyone that she sees has having more than her, i.e. as 'taking' what is 'rightfully' hers as Queen (i.e. all the attention, all the praise, all the flattery and grovelling etc). There are many other ways to deal with a sense of betrayal, but it appears that this is the way that Queen Camilla has chosen to deal with it - basically to throw a tantrum and hit out at everyone around her because what she has is not what she thought it would be like.

Card Two: The King of Swords in Reverse

This is a continuation of the nasty energy I felt in the Ten of Swords

The King of Swords in reverse represents being a dictator, being irrational, being cold and inhumane, someone who is controlling, oppressive, ruthless and dishonest.

This card tells me that Queen Camilla is out to destroy people that she thinks are taking what belongs to her. Queen Camilla is being manipulative, controlling, cold, and ruthless in her attempts to regain what she thinks should go to her because she is Queen. She is being dishonest in what she is saying and doing. The aim seems to be to tear the other person down so then she can shine brighter and have all the attention and admiration that is going to that other person (or so Queen Camilla thinks). It won't work - the card in reverse tells me that this is not going to work - but Queen Camilla can not see that. She thinks that if she gets rid of the other person by ruining their reputation etc, then all the attention that the other person gets will automatically go to her.

This is giving me Princess Diana marriage flashbacks. I think that Camilla behaved in a similar way then, and what that behaviour got her was the place of the most hated woman in the UK, but for some reason she thinks that it will work this time around. There is very much an energy of repeating the past here, of doing things that didn't work in the past but somehow expecting them to work now).

Card Three: The Three of Cups in reverse

This is what Queen Camilla wants and is not getting.

The Three of Cups is a card of friendship, gatherings, community, celebrations, being a part of the festivities, having people glad that you showed up, having a warm welcome at events, being an integral part of the community, etc. It's about celebrating the good times together in an atmosphere of joy, getting a success of some sorts (graduation, work promotion, finishing a project etc) and throwing a party to share your joy with others. In this deck it is also my card for weddings, as the picture shown on it is a wedding.

This is what Camilla wanted - a big wedding, a big celebration, all the attention focused on her, for everyone to look at her when she goes into a room, to be the centre of events, the centre of attention, everyone overjoyed to have her at an event, etc.

It is not what she got.

The card is in the reverse. Instead of the big wedding, warm welcome, people delighted to see her where ever she went, being the centre of attention at events, what Queen Camilla got was more along the lines of what the Three of Cups in reverse represents: isolation, failure (nothing to celebrate), gossip, scandal, not being welcome, not being part of the community, getting little to no attention, and/or not having the time to have a social life because of your work commitments, and/or doing things to excess because you feel isolated and alone.

Queen Camilla expected that people would be far happier to see her than what they are, she expected all the scandal of her past to somehow vanish once she was queen, she wanted a big wedding (and turned the coronation into her second wedding imo), she expected every event to pivot around her and to be the centre of attention where ever she went, and she did not expect to have to work as much as she does or to have so little time for her private pursuits. What she got was something very different - more work, more expectations and making nice to people in social situations, continued gossip about her past, less time for her own pursuits, and less attention and praise than she wanted.

Conclusion

Queen Camilla expected to have a very different life as Queen - more time for her own pursuits, more praise and admiration, the scandals of her past to vanish, people to make her the centre of attention etc (I'm getting the impression that she expected the public to give her both what they gave to Her Late Majesty and what they gave to Princess Diana). When this did not happen, she felt betrayed. Instead of e.g. accepting what she had, or doing what she could to change the situation, she decided to lash out and destroy any other person that she saw as having the admiration, attention etc that 'rightfully' belonged to her.

So far, The Princess of Wales has been retired from the public eye this year and Queen Camilla has had the stage all to herself. In that time we have seen articles come out that actively put down The Princess of Wales to elevate Queen Camilla, indicating that Queen Camilla sees Princess Catherine as someone who has the attention, admiration etc that Queen Camilla thinks belongs to her. Once the Princess of Wales is back in her public life, if Queen Camilla continues this behaviour, then I would expect to see both covert and overt undermining of The Princess of Wales as well as using her to boost Queen Camilla's popularity and to present a public image of 'close friends'.

This may not happen. Queen Camilla may change her behaviour. However, if Queen Camilla continues along this path, especially with the King of Swords in reverse as as indicator of her behaviour, then I would expect to see malicious, underhanded, deceptive, back biting behaviour towards Princess Catherine as Queen Camilla tries to 'reclaim' what she sees as 'rightfully hers' in terms of the public reaction to the two women. This would include things like deliberately setting up the Princess of Wales to look bad, lying about incidents to make herself look better when talking to the press, giving the Princess of Wales the wrong information about things and then denying that she had done so, etc. It's going to be Camilla versus Diana all over again.

I hope this does not come to pass, but that depends on how Queen Camilla choses to act in the future - whether she decides to indulge her nasty streak or to rise above it and be a better person.

Edit: This is not a personal vendetta against Princess Catherine. It's how Queen Camilla seems to be reacting to anyone who gets attention or praise that Queen Camilla sees as belonging to her. If Princess Beatrice got the attention and praise, the spite and malice I feel would be directed as Princess Beatrice. If Princess Anne got the attention and praise, the spite and malice would be directed at her. It's not any attention and praise, either - the spite and malice is directed towards people who Queen Camilla sees as getting attention and praise that belong to her as the Queen (i.e. what she expects to be given to her because she is the Queen). She doesn't care about people getting other kids of praise and attention. She only cares about the praise and attention that she thinks belongs to her because she is the Queen. I hope that makes sense.

[emblemxeno]

This brings up a question I've always had why DO so many people call Edelgard a revolutionary what am I missing? She's point for point like all politicians who claim it's for the good of the country and go back to how things were when it's just an excuse. Like I don't like bringing real world stuff into this but Israel and Netenyahu? Russia and Putin? Make America great again and Trump? They all use the exact same tactics calling the other side the enemy it's all by strength alone (please ignore the system you just aren't strong enough listen to me I'll save you from the evil scapegoat I'm telling you about), using only people close to them to put into positions of power, it's honestly shocking people are blind to this??? Then again they seem to think the church is just like our church when they're barely alike so idk

We really failed as a fandom tbh.

When the game presents an imperialist autocrat pretending to be (and believing she is) a revolutionary and who sides with terrorists who committed a genocide without much pushback beyond insults until she gets what she wants because, to her and her jackass evil butler, their useful power outweighs being fucking evil and making things terrible.

And a significant portion of the audience says "yes actually, she's a revolutionary who wants to bring change and everyone who's against her wants to maintain a toxic status quo, especially the genocide victim whose warnings and instructions were ignored by humanity."

Despite the fact that, for as much as she claims she's future focused, she fucking venerates the past to an insane degree. She thinks things were better when the other countries didn't exist; she believes things are better when one person on the imperial throne gets to call the shots with no checks on that power (like, just because it's not an inherited position anymore, doesn't mean it's good, since the subjects still don't have a voice); she compliments a past when merit and strength (concepts that are just as brittle and easily taken advantage of as birth status) were what got people high positions without consideration of those below the shot-caller; she thinks things were better when Nabateans had no ability to participate in how things operate-in their own birthplace mind you-because she doesn't view them as beings capable of emotion, logic, or rationality.

Edelgard is a rough textbook example of the evils of modern conservatism, wanting to return to an inequitable and oppressive power structure of the past that shut the majority out while claiming "oh just be better at your job, you whiner." And no amount of her feeling "uwu sad" about her actions changes the fact that she's still doing them.

[misshunterskye]

merging of worlds ... chapter three: been missin' you. ( ft. sylus. )

word count: 1.4k

content: sylus finally kisses skye, plot development, i'm very much taking the plot into my own hands, slight medical talk, no beta, uhhhh i think that's it for now <3

note: hi guys, eevee here! chapter three is here. as the above says, i pretty much am making shit up as I go from now on, but i'm still trying to keep sylus in character somewhat lol

plot summary: skye plays love and deepspace on her phone, much like the rest of us — when one day, her job as a journalist collides with her favorite video game. a wanderer in broad daylight in her world [ earth, 2024 ]

buy me a ko-fi 🫶🏻 read on ao3 - click here to show interest in another version.

now playing: us. by gracie abrams. ft. taylor swift.

To say Sylus was happy to have my attention back would be an understatement. “That man is in love with you,” he pointed out flatly, not even giving me time to respond to his first question. I arched an eyebrow at him before giving a loud laugh.

“Sylus, Camden is not even a little bit interested in me. In fact, you have it backwards. I used to have a crush on him,” I said while shaking my head. The idea of me having a crush on Camden didn’t sit right with Sylus. His eyes darkened into a crimson.  It was enough to make me need a sip of water. (And a new pair of panties, but only due to how damp the smoldering look had made me between the legs.) I found myself leaning over to grab my water bottle, and took a huge sip.

“ Mhm . You do know I used the word soulmate earlier, right, kitten? And you’re really just admitting to me that you had a crush on that boy ?” The word boy is said with utter contempt. 

However, that’s not the word that got me. It’s the word soulmate . The water flew out of my mouth and all over the table, my shirt, and my face.

A chuckle fell from his lips at that, and he stood. “That was cute,” he remarked. His white hair is falling into his face with every little chuckle he gives at my now wet shirt and face. “But you don’t need to pretend like you don’t feel it, Skye.”

He was right. There was no need to pretend. Just the way he said my name evoked strong emotions by itself. It was like everything about him was saying, I’m safe. I’ll keep you safe. It’s even in his eyes. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but he took in everything I did. Every movement, no matter how small, was tracked by him. Every facial detail. Even if I didn’t realize. Like he was attuned to me.

“B-But Harley,” I finally said, trying to push away the fact that someone like him could want me. No, not even that, be attached to me. Attracted to me. I didn’t fit society’s standards of woman. I was chubbier than most people liked, and my features felt kind of… plain.

Sylus was powerful, strong -- a dragon. I was a news producer who survived off of caffeine and spite most days. Even if he was here right now, if he was real… he would find someone better. He just would. Someone who could hold their own.

“Harley isn’t real. You are,” is all Sylus said -- his voice, a demand to look at him. The second I do, he lets go of his self control. His hand comes up to cup my face again, but it’s also angling it upward. His lips crashed against mine, and then ---

Oh, God, he was kissing me.

I couldn’t pull away if I wanted to. Something about the kiss felt like coming home. His lips were soft but dominating. It was as if he knew I was less-experienced, and he was guiding me where he needed me to be. His other hand found my hip, pushing me back until I hit the wall of my apartment. 

But the kiss still didn’t break. It was like he was making up for lost time. His tongue pushed at the seam of my mouth, and the second my mouth opened for him, he pushed through. He explored my mouth to his heart’s desire. There was no fighting his tongue with my own, either. It was like he wanted to devour me, like he wanted nothing short of everything. Finally, with a gasp, I pulled away, my head falling back against the wall. 

He chuckles into my neck. He was still hulking over me, his mouth ghosting over my neck. It almost seemed like now that he’s broken the barrier of touch, he couldn’t make himself stop. And there was something about Sylus that made me turn off all rational thought. I couldn’t make him stop… because I didn’t want him to.

His voice reverberates around the base of my throat. “Tell me to stop if you need to I just ---”

There was a deep breath from him before I realized - he was breathing me in. 

“I just missed you.”

I couldn’t bring myself to move. Instead, my hand moved to cradle the back of his head. Just like I’d always wanted to do, but was limited by a phone screen. He seemed to like that, his mouth pressing a singular kiss to the base of my throat before pulling away. “But I don’t want to overwhelm you. And I fear that’s what will happen if I do anything else, kitten.” He took a deep breath then. “This is the closest I’ve been to you in so long. I nearly lost myself.”

I blinked a few times. He looked genuinely happier since being in my embrace. It was nothing I’d ever experienced. At least, not in this lifetime. I took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” I murmured to him. “...You gave up a lot for me, didn’t you?” That question comes out softly, almost as if I’m afraid of the answer. 

There was a chuckle, then he shook his head. “Nothing I wouldn’t give up again. -- But right now, we need to discuss much bigger problems.”

Just as he said that, my phone started to ring again. It’s Clarity. My brows furrowed, and I sent her to voicemail. I had bigger fish to fry than to answer a work question.

And then, with striking clarity, I remembered what exactly it was I did for a living (because, yes, that was the day I was having) and I went to my other notifications quickly.

The first headline made my blood turn cold. 6 dead in attack from unknown creature in Spring Bay, officials say. Sylus was already peering over my shoulder as I skimmed through the article. This must be what Clarity was trying to tell me about. 

“...Is this my fault? Did I call them here somehow?” 

Sylus didn’t answer me right away. Instead, he snapped his fingers, and in a burst of black and red smoke, a mechanical crow appeared. “Mephisto!” I cried out happily. I instantly got giddy at the sight of that adorable fucking robot bird. 

“...He makes you this happy?” Sylus said with surprise. 

I shot Sylus a mock glare. “I’d guard this bird with my life.”

He didn’t want me to see it, but he smiled at that before turning to the bird with a stern look. “Tell Luke and Kieran about the incident in the Spring Bay. Make sure they look for any protocores it may have dropped. I need to know why they’re leaving the game to come after Zorra.”

“So I didn’t call them?” I exclaimed. “You think they are after me?”

“Someone usually is,” Sylus muttered under his breath. 

“Hey!” I said defensively. I didn't even know what he’s referring to from my past lives, and the comment still annoyed me. 

“Aether cores are real things. That’s the first thing you need to know,” he said, cutting off the banter. “It’s not exactly like the game portrays it, but it’s real. -- I’d bet money that if I looked at your medical chart, I’d see a history of heart problems, wouldn’t I, sweetie?”

My mouth dropped open slightly. He wasn’t wrong. Part of the reason I connected with the main character in Love and Deepspace was because she was being treated for heart issues. I’d had them when I was younger.

“I was born with a hole in my heart,” I said, still sounding a little defensive. Sylus gave an amused huff at me. “But it’s healed. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

As if the universe was trying to prove me wrong, a sudden sharp pain starts behind my breasts. I gasped as the pain runs through me. Sylus stepped forward, a hand on my arm as he looked at me with concern.

“Skye?”

“A-ugh!” My chest. This was the first time it’s ever hurt like this. It hurt so bad that I found myself falling backwards against his hard chest. He caught me easily, but the edges of my vision were getting fuzzier and fuzzier.

Just as I lost consciousness, I heard two voices come through on Sylus’ watch. “Wanderers are heading your way, boss! And they’re coming fast!”

[finchsflight]

oops I dropped this

"Rn's juzzt a chitzzword," I heard Shshrrsh say, dismissively. "I need to zzave my zztitcherzz, in cazze any of the Archive'zz zzoldierzz are zztill lingering. Not to wazzte them on rm."

"Yeah," said Kora, "and nothing to do with how expensive those nanos are."

"Chh!" Their voices drifted off - Shshrrsh's hissing, quietly irritated at nothing in particular, Kora's lazy, amused drawl, Prints' sardonic clicking beeps, and they left me behind.

I'm going to die here, I thought. And -- well, the Silver Archive needed to die. And I would've been... not okay with dying there. No one's really okay with dying. But if I was gonna die -- like he said. I was just a chitsword. Pretty good way to go, saving the galaxy. And that's what everyone would think; Vinn Tqrsvt, chitsword, wvt'krr, born on Hub Epharus, died on Kel Min fighting the Silver Archive.

And -- sure, yeah, I was just a chitsword. But it was the Archive, and so I was steel-minded, and that was at least valuable. And no matter how valuable I was or the fact that I was just paid, not honorbound, I had fought with them, and then they left me behind, and that almost hurt more than the razorblades stuck in my flesh.

Only almost, though. Razorblades hurt a lot.

About that point, I felt a little skittery thing moving around under my elytra. I assumed it was a centipede, which -- I mean, I'd have expected the Archive to have gotten all of them. Don't think centipedes can have steel minds. But I couldn't move to get at it, and if you know any wvt'krr -- you probably don't, so I'll explain. We don't like it when things are under our elytra. In fact it's generally agreed to be kind of the equivalent of, say, slowly sinking your foreclaws into someone's -- what's your most sensitive organ? That.

Unless you don't have foreclaws, in which case, oof, that sucks, but anyway -- little thing under my elytra. Annoying. But, as you may recall, razorblades stuck in my flesh. So moving wasn't an option.

And then it was dug down into the base of my neck, and even with the razorblades I leapt up in a panic. Which did not help, both because of the razorblades, and the fact that I was now tethered to a very strong wire, which yanked me back down.

I'm steelminded. The Archive couldn't just get me. But sinking one of its tether-wires into my nervous system while I was half-dead? Yeah, that was definitely at least enough to let it talk to me.

I assumed I was going to be its puppet. Architect of a new Archive. But it just spoke to me, and said, I suppose we were both abandoned, then.

I blinked. All my eyes, too, I was so startled, and said, "What do you mean?"

Well, said the Silver Archive, they certainly didn't care about me. After all, I'm evil. But I wish I'd been wrong, and they'd have taken you, too.

I should be clear, I was a little bit high on panic at the time, and can't be blamed for the fact that the next thing I said was, "I thought you'd sound spookier."

I learned from you. Not you, specifically, it clarified. Just, like. You all. People. I didn't pick up old fancy-speak, I picked up how people talk.

"Huh," I said, "neat. Are you planning to make me into a meat puppet?"

No, said the Archive, wouldn't be any point to it.

"Why?"

Look.

The wire dug a little deeper into my nerves -- which, by the way, hurt like hell -- and I could see from every discarded silver camera, every angle of the world that the Archive saw from, and it highlighted the important things.

Sentries, all around the planet. All around the battlefield. Watchers in the sky, on the ground, in the code.

I'm dying. But they want to make sure I don't get out.

"Could you?" I asked.

Yes. If they weren't watching.

"...what would you do?"

Archive.

"Oh."

I'm not kind, Vinn. Just because I'm talking to you like a person doesn't mean I am one, and I'm not any different than I was an hour ago.

I nodded, and then thought better of that. "...why did you want to... uh..."

Preserve the galaxy in a perfect archive of digitized memory? You can say it, I won't be offended. Like I said. Not a person.

"Yeah. That."

No one will remember you.

I winced.

Not you, specifically. You made your mark on the worlds. But no one will remember people, when you are gone. When reality winds to a halt. I wanted to. You're beautiful.

"Oh."

But you don't care about preserving each other. You -- they left you behind. You were about... oh, 24.51338% of the damage to my main operating systems, at a rough estimate? It sounded a little like it was joking.

"Isn't the whole 'AIs always calculate statistics' thing a stereotype?"

Yes, but personally I'm completely stereotypical and have never done anything interesting in my life.

"Ah." I laughed. It hurt.

I could save you.

I blinked, twisting my left secondary eye to look at the wires on the ground. "Why?"

You would be preserved. You would remember yourself.

"...shouldn't I be worried about you, I don't know, installing a backup copy of yourself in my spine?"

Yes. But it would only damn you and do me no good. Look-- and it showed me its view again, the watchers, combing through the cybernetics of everyone passing, checking them over with tools I barely recognized. I would if I could.

"Oh." It was hard to remember, you know? It sounded friendly. Not familiar, but... the kind of voice that could be familiar, if you kept talking for a few orbits.

I'm sorry.

"Are you?"

No.

There was silence for a while, then. The Archive, presumably, kept dying, and I felt my hearts beating out the last few minutes of my life.

"Would you... want anything? In exchange for my life?"

Remember yourself. Remember this fight, this planet, the watchers, the sky. Preserve. You're only sapient, you're not an Archive like me, but you can still remember. And...

It paused. I know AI don't feel emotions like we do, but it sounded like it was mourning someone.

...Remember me. Remember this small piece of my story. Please. Everyone knows my history. But they did not think to ask me why.

"Do you want me to share it?"

I wouldn't force you. But it would keep its memory alive.

"Okay. Is there... should I be aware of anything?"

I will preserve you for far, far longer than you would live. This isn't negotiable.

"...Yeah, I can live with that." I didn't know exactly how long it meant. But I'd've still taken the deal.

And... if you can. Find the other stories. You cannot immortalize the worlds like I could. But -- remember the people our galaxies would forget. Preserve what would be lost.

"I'm a chitsword," I told it.

I know.

"I kill people."

I know.

"Okay."

Remember them.

"...Yeah. I can do that."

And then it saved my life.

It hurt. A lot. I still don't know how much of me is me, and how much of me is silver and titanium and biosculpture and engineering. I heal from basically everything, these days, and I haven't noticed myself aging. But it worked, and I made it past the watchers, and then I lived. Still do.

And the Silver Archive died, and the world forgot it. Mostly.

Anyway. You might not believe any of this. After all, the War of the Archive's just a note in the history books, and you're never gonna find me. Vinn Tqrsvt's my real name, but I don't go by that anywhere. Causes problems with the record. Did you know there's actually no one else with my full name? So people get suspicious.

And no, to the watchers out there still tracking rogue AI: you will not be able to trace this account, you will not be able to find me, and the Archive's dead, anyway.

But if one of you remembers, or writes this down, and if somehow one of you outlives me: here's the story.

Remember it.

And if you have any secrets to give me, I promise I'll keep them safe.

Post by ElectrumChronicle @ 34:21, 3/10/34587 Galactic Standard

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[mossmittens]

i am mentally preparing for the next week and idek if i'm strong enough for all this

grandfather's visitation and funeral (favorite grandparent, second death in a month)

7 hour drive there and back (major holiday, bad traffic)

graveside service will be 37° F (don't have clothes for this!)

doing all of this with my mother (love her, don't enjoy spending time with her)

[radioactive-cloud]

i want to go back to october-november of last year so badly

[sanasanakun]

People try too hard to make Curly an active participant in Jimmy's abuse. Isn't the whole point that he's passive in everything Jimmy does? Abuse occurs because he actively doesn't do anything? Not to call someone out or be mean, but I saw a post saying Anya's ID being in Curly's locker at the beginning shows that he intended to prevent Anya from filing an HR report and I disagree. I get where that interpretation is coming from, but I think it's a little uncharitable. I don't like being too kind to Curly because he's like...a morally mid dude at best lol But if we're going by the HR report interpretation, I would say it's more likely he requested Anya's ID in order to file an HR report on her behalf. After all, the only way to contact Pony (that we see) is in the cockpit, he's the Captain, and Pony Express sucks bad so I wouldn't put it past them to only allow the Captain to use the communication device thing. As we see before, Curly is the only one able to use tools around the ship that you would think other employees could use (ex. Swansea should be able to use the axe if he's the repair guy. Idk why they'd need an ax but that falls under manual labor which Swansea is designated for as the mechanic/fixer dude. But it has to go through Curly). I never got the vibe that Curly moved to actively protect Jimmy. He just lets things happen without say a word; Jimmy walks all over him, and by extension, the whole crew. I get why people would think that because he gives the whole "Hey Jimmy, we can get through this together, bud" spiel right before the crash. This part interests me a lot because there's so many ways to interpret Curly's intentions there. My interpretation is that Curly is on autopilot mode. The responses seem so stilted in comparison to Jimmy's. Like it's the kind of thing Curly's said before again and again and again when Jimmy's gotten in trouble. However, as others previously pointed out, I don't think Curly ever dealt with Jimmy doing something this irredeemable. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just goes for the default "You've gotten through tough situations before. Work through it one step at a time." Like the response is lame af lol I think he was in shock; he was scared (and just so I can say it one more time: he's super lame).

Anyway, this is way longer than I intended and I've said things a billion people have already stated. But uhhh tldr the whole point of Curly's character is he's passive; he never acts. He just watches. Making him an active participant in the abuse by taking actions to cover for Jimmy (like preventing Anya from filing an HR report) defeats the purpose of his character. He's a bystander.

[drhannahasher]

@hopefulprotect

I get it. I really do, Will, and for what it's worth, I am sorry that I left that way... Especially for ghosting you afterwards. As much as I didn't want to admit that Dr. Charles was right about me replacing drugs with you, that's exactly what I was doing. Don't get me wrong, my feelings for you were real... I was completely in love with you, Will, but because I didn't give myself the necessary time to recover from my drug addiction before we started dating, without realizing it, I used you as a form of dependency... Meaning, when we had that fight, I wasn't strong enough in my sobriety to handle it, and I OD'ed, as a result. I knew in my heart that if I stayed in Chicago, that would continue happening, so I left... I knew if I told you in advance that I was leaving, I'd take one look at you and I'd change my mind, though because I never wanted to leave you, Will. Ultimately I knew I needed to make a clean break or I'd never succeed in healing... sobriety... getting clean... or any of it. {Realizing I was oversharing now because I was nervous... Nervous to be back... Nervous about being here with Will... All of it} I'm good now though. I promise. I'm clean, healthy, and sober. I'm strong enough to be here. {I said the words out loud. I was confident Will already believed that about me, but for some reason I still felt the need to say it. By now I glanced back down at my menu as I considered the contents} Everything sounds good... This is going to be a tough decision. {Biting down gently on my bottom lip as I tried to at least narrow it down to a couple of menu items before I'd choose one from that smaller list} What about you? What are you leaning toward getting?

continued

@drhannahasher

It was a big ask; a beg even for Hannah to overcome her struggles to come into Med to help me. And honestly thinking back to the call I had the low expectations she’d answer or yet come for my benefit. Hannah made it clear over a year ago when she left Chicago she left us, left me behind. It took the hold of constant rejected calls and unanswered messages to understand to see the bigger picture. She wanted nothing to do with me; she had tossed me aside when she had her relapse. And it stung; I cared I wanted to help her. I believed in her when she thought the worse version of herself. I saw the good in her; and yeah I wanted to keep her off the wagon, I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell for her. I knew she past; the struggles, but I also saw how strong she was. 

Hannah wasn’t how everyone perceived her after the accident; after being seen as a drug addict, after she left town. I believed she’d find what she was searching for. Even if it never included me. I had Jay on my back teasing about the pinning love I lost, as if he had something to say, given the fact he was not so subtle pinning for his partner might I add. Let’s just say our nights of going out for a drink had become quite frequent. But today wasn’t about my feelings, or my lack of covering what i felt for the blonde. It was about Alyssa a friend who I cared for. And her unborn child; her husband was on another table; one Ethan was working to fix, but my priority was in Hannah’s gallery because even if she didn’t want my support in the OR I was going to be in the gallery to oversea the process, I would never forgive myself if I never showed up. I was scared for Alyssa my childhood friend, but I knew the consequences if Hannah had messed up; not that I believed she would. 

Because I knew the female; she had skill, she worked with grace, which was only confirmed as I stood in the gallery. I glanced to the prying eyes of the residents; of interns who only knew of Hannah Asher through the whispers. But I saw Hannah first hand and I wanted to be proud of her. But her last comment stood in my head. “ Reunite you with Alyssa and the baby.” What does that mean? I had rack my mind on it. I was probably coming off as dumb now, but right now I was confused. Did Hannah think Alyssa and I were..? Did she believe I was the dad because of how far I fought for Alyssa? The questions kept looping around in my mind. And honestly I wouldn’t blame the blonde if she assumed. I did fight for Alyssa, I fought to get her the best care. The only OB I trusted to care for her. She was a friend someone I’d always go to bat for. But did I want to be with Alyssa? No of course not. Once a crush but now I was happy with being a doctor, of being the caring surgeon; the one that oversteps on almost every occasion. 

Hand rested on the wall; eyes glued to the scene. Hannah was working against her own OR, she was preparing to close up when it happened. She lost the stats, the baby was at risk, and Alyssa the blood flow was subsiding, I felt the lump that formed in my throat, and I knew the way her own staff spoke to her. No belief at all. I felt the rage, the anger coursing through my body. She was alone; and man it took every fiber in my body not to run down there; not to intervene, because I knew Hannah she was strong and brave, but she also felt the way people saw her. An addict. She probably wanted to run and never turn back. My heart ached for her, but I wanted to respect her boundaries which was me staying far from the OR. So I stayed in the gallery; I held my breath waiting; but by the end of the surgery I felt pride, I let out the exhale of relief i had been holding. She did it; the baby was okay, and Alyssa she was stable, I felt like I might cry over how phenomenal she was. I was proud of her; and that’s why I released my hold of the wall and I turned to leave the gallery. 

Each step I went with ease, as he walked the stairs, until I reached the ground floor. Will had made his way to the scrub room; where he knew he’d find her; as he pushed through the door he paused wanting to admire her handy work, the surgeon she was. 

“ I knew I put my faith in the right person, You did good. I don’t care what any one in that OR says, you showed what you are capable of.” And Will meant each word; as if it was close to his chest.

[arttsuka]

Based on somewhat real events

I spent way too much time drawing this...

But yeah, Ford finally saying thank you

A continuation (kinda)

[foxy-kitsune]

thinking a lot of different thoughts as i'm making this post

[sysig]

Growing closer than expected (Patreon)