#its been a long time since ive felt *part* of a fandom.

[basilpaste]

[theemptybloggercometh]

The Centurion with the Torch

Fandom: Doctor Who

Characters: Rory Williams, Amy Pond, Riversong, 11th Doctor

Context: Takes place during Rory’s time guarding the Pandorica

Summary: Rory’s always been clumsy, that was until he found himself in an Auton’s body. He never thought he would miss being this way, yet, as he walks around the empty museum at night, he can’t help but remember what it was like

Triggers: Depersonalisation, internalised ableism, ableist language, guns, needles, cannulas/IV’s, blood 

Word Count: 3682

You have a lot of time to think when you’re the only security guard on the night shift. After all, there’s only so many times you can re-read the labels describing the exhibits before you get bored. Years ago, there was a team of us, like there still is on the day shift, so there was always someone to talk to which really helped to pass the time. However, budget cuts reduced the number of guards from five to three to two until finally then there was only one. Now, with nobody but myself walking around and around these four huge floors of this museum each with its interminable corridors, an hour let alone eleven seems like an eternity. Of course, I’m here during the day shift as well, but there’s a lot more happening then to keep me distracted.

I suppose I should be grateful that I don’t get tired or need to sleep. Even if I could, I don’t think I would get more than an hour or two at a time before I would want to see the Pandorica again and check she was still safe. If she does get harmed, god forbid, then it won’t be for a lack of trying.

There’s so many other ordinary things that I miss now being in this Auton body; things that long long ago I wouldn’t have even given a second thought about. You don’t think you would miss them but you really do. Things like shaving, getting my hair cut, making a cup of tea, things like that. Even the advantages of being in this Auton body, like having better eyesight, hearing and strength or just not being clumsy, are not really advantages. All these do is painfully remind me how I’m not fully human. When these thoughts get bad I find myself remembering what it was like before all this happened.

---

I’m seven and I’m at Amy’s house along with Mel’s. Since seeing her last, Amy had made up this new game of the Raggedy Doctor and she had enlisted our help making things for this game.   

“And Rory, I need you to cut this out ” she said handing me some scissors and a piece of paper with a blue box drawn on it

“Okay” I replied as I sat down by her desk beside Mel’s who was busy cutting out a suit jacket out of a square of brown felt.

I looked at the pair of scissors in my hand for a few seconds and then surreptitiously glanced across to see how Mel’s was holding hers. Copying her in this regard was the easy part; opening and closing the blades, now, that was the tricky part. No matter how hard I tried I could not move my thumb in time with the other two fingers to open up both blades.

Amy was just about to start drawing at the other end of the desk when she tilted her head whilst looking at me

“You’re right handed aren’t you?” she asked 

“Um…” I started to reply. I thought I was and Amy’s tone suggested that she did too but I honestly couldn’t remember and the more I thought about it the less confident I got. To prevent the silence getting awkward I raised one hand up and said “this is the one I use to write”

““So why are you using your left hand to use scissors?”

I looked at my hands like I was seeing them for the first time and then switched the scissors to the other hand. This made things a little bit easier and after a while I was moving both the top and bottom blade at the same time. However, while Mel’s scissors were gracefully moving down the felt, my scissors were chopping at the paper. Staring intently at the paper, I navigated the scissors around the small edges of the beginning section of the blue box’s roof and then moved down to the box’s side. I was about half way down when suddenly the scissors veered off and went straight through the white section with ‘pull to open’ written on it in black pen.

“Ah” I said as I felt myself blush “Amy?”

She looked up from her drawing and immediately tutted as I showed her what had happened   

“Oh Rory” she cried “that took me ages to do!”

“Calm down, Amy” said Mel’s gently as she laid her hand onto Amy’s shoulder “It was a mistake, wasn’t it Rory?”

“It was” I said looking down at the desk and wanting the ground to swallow me up  “The scissors just sort of slipped. I’m really sorry”

Amy nodded “Okay; just be more careful next time”

I thought about thanking Mel’s for sticking up for me, but decided against it; I wish I had as Mel’s was perhaps the only person who never got annoyed or took the fun out of me for being clumsy.

---

I’m sixteen and I’m getting ready for prom. I was wearing a really stylish dark grey slim fit suit that I had paired with a white button down shirt. All that was missing was the scarlet tie.

As my parents were out for the night seeing a Dusty Springfield tribute act, I had to rely on Google to help me with the tie. I must have been trying to do the blasted thing up for twenty minutes already, going between my computer and my mirror, until I finally understood what the wikiHow article meant by ‘loop the wide end back over again’.

My face was scrunched up in concentration as I tried for what must have been the thousandth time to get the length of the tie right instead of it being either up by my neck or down by my knees. Pull the wide end through the hole I told myself and then I actually held my breath as I looked at the result. But, wouldn’t you know, there was still just a little bit of the thin end poking out under the wide end.

I closed my eyes and let out a big sigh before quickly whipping off the tie and throwing it away not caring where it ended up. You know what, I would just got to prom with the shirt open necked. Just as I had undone the top button, the doorbell rang. I looked at my watch and my eyes widened as I noticed that I had been stood in front of the mirror for over forty five minutes.

After grabbing my jacket, I flew out of my bedroom and bounded down the stairs, literally jumping down over the last few steps. As the doorbell rang again, I put on the jacket, flattened down my fringe and opened the front door.

Standing there on the doorstep wearing a ruby red gown was Amy and she looked absolutely stunning. 

This sight took my breath away and it took me several seconds to exclaim  “WOW!!!!”

“You like it then?” she asked as huge smile spread across her face 

“Like it? I love it; you look…words can’t do just to how amazing you look” I replied as we hugged. “and what do you think of my outfit?”

Amy took a step back and looked me up and down “It’s excellent. What happened to the tie?”

“Yeah, no…um… I co–…I…um…I’ll do without”

“Okay”

But it wasn’t okay; indeed, I felt like I needed to justify myself “I really wanted to wear it and I tired but I…it was just too difficult”

“Oh…okay…I’ll do it if you want?

“Really?”

“Yeah, where is it?

“Up in my bedroom, I’ll just go and get it”

When I returned, I found Amy in the living room, I handed her the tie and then popped up my collar. As she steeped towards me, my breath caught in my throat.  She was now so close that I could count the individual strands of hair which she had done into an elaborate curled style.

“When did you learn how to tie a tie?” I asked

“Doing the costumes for the school musical last year” she replied as she thread the tie around my neck and started to fold the wide part over the thin part 

“Ah right” I murmured. I wanted to say more but it was like my brain was short circuiting.

Indeed, it was like the air between us was filled with static – so much so that even the mere thought of touching her sent shockwaves through me. I breathed in the sweet smelt of flowery perfume and ---

---

CLANG

Hearing this brought me right back to the present. I was suddenly on high alert. Unlike what you see in the movies, museum heists are extremely rare. It’s more likely that I’ll be responding to a fire breaking out rather than burglars breaking in. But as the noise was coming from the delivery bay doors, maybe this was the one time that it was a heist.

I left the Viking exhibition and started to run towards one of the main staircases. I was on the landing of the second floor when I heard it again

CLANG

It might even be the Doctor; in my mind’s eye I saw him opening the shutters and then standing there trying to look all cool. But I quickly banished that thought as I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

When I got to the delivery bay at the back of the museum, I slowed right down and approached the shutters with a caution. My torch illuminated the silver slates which by now were constantly drumming.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

I switched the torch to my left hand and activated my gun. I pointed it towards the middle of the shutters which was taking most of the impact of whatever was on the other side. After reflexively taking a deep breath, I pushed a button besides the shutters and they slammed up to the ceiling to reveal…a fox backing away.

“Shoo” I said as I let my shoulders relax

The fox scampered away and I was just about to to push the button to bring the shutters down when my curiosity got the better of me and I went through the opening to the yard outside. I gripped the shutters, pulling them down until I saw the beginnings of what must have been a burger or a kebab at some point but now was just a congealed mess stuck on the metal. I made a mental not to tell the cleaners about it in the morning and hoped the fox wouldn’t return.

After going back inside again and ensuring the shutters were shut, I started to walk towards the visitor entrance. Just above the help desk was a large ornate clock which showed the time to be half past three. This would have been the time that I usually came back from break when I did night shifts as a nurse. The more things change…

---

I’m nineteen and I’m drawing up intravenous antibiotics for one of my patients. This was few months after what happened with the Doctor, Prisoner Zero and the Atraxi. In a way, being a nurse is like being with the Doctor: the only people who can truly understand what you’ve been through are those who have gone through it themselves and it’s also extremely difficult to just go back to the life you had before after all you’ve seen.      

“Can you check this?” I asked Sister Marie of the proffered drug chart and vial of amoxicillin

“Sure thing” she replied “So this is 1000g of amoxicillin which expires June 2010 and is for Florence Radcliff whose last dose was at six this morning and she has…” Marie turned over the drug chart “no allergies. Yep this looks good” 

I already had the equipment ready in a tray so I lost no time in starting to draw up the medication. After I had attached the covered needle to the syringe, I took hold of the needle sheath and ever so slowly removed it to reveal the silver metal underneath. I wasn’t going to repeat what I did as a student by giving myself a needle stick injury – with a blunt tip needle of all things! I have to imagine that I’m the only person to have ever done this in the whole history of nursing. 

Next I slotted the needle into the small hole at the top of the vial of sterile water. Well that’s what I trying to do anyway because I missed the first time. After finally drawing the water into the syringe I turned to the vial of amoxicillin. This time the rubber bung was much bigger so I didn’t – couldn’t – miss when I pierced it with the needle.

Sister Marie was just about to finish drawing up her IV, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t a race and even if it was, slow and steady was better than fast and frantic.

With the needle now fully inserted, I pushed the syringe plunger upwards and watched the water enter the vial and start to mix with the powder inside. I wasn’t going to push all the water into vial and have the resulting pressure spray it back out like that one time where I was practicing and covered the nurse who was observing me with clindamycin.

When the powder was diluted in the water and the mixture was back in the syringe, I approached Florence Radcliff’s bedspace

“Hi Florence, I’m here to give to you your antibiotics” I said brightly

“Hm” she replied

To be honest I couldn’t really blame her for the less than cheerfully reply; she had initially been misdiagnosed and because of that had been on ward for two weeks already

Because of this, she knew what I was going to say next as she continued in a monotone “I’m Florence Radcliff, my date of birth is 16.1.1965 and I have no allergies”

I checked that this tallied up with what was on the drug chart and then knelt at the edge of the Florence’s bed. After inspecting the cannula that was in the crook of her elbow, I pushed the end of the syringe into the cannula’s port and gently pushed the plunger.  

Once all the liquid had been injected, I stood back up and as I turned around my arm connected with something on the next patient’s bedside table

“Ahh!!! What the heck!!!” exclaimed the patient

I spun around and the first thing I saw was the patient’s water jug - which must have been the object my arm connected with – sitting in her lap. I slowly looked up and saw that her face, along with her hair, was dripping wet.

“Oh my god!” I said “I’m so sorry, Jane, let me get you a towel”

“And a new sheet too!” she curtly replied

I quickly started to leave the bedspace but I wasn’t quick enough not to hear her murmur ‘what an idiot’. I don’t know if she was intending for me to catch what she had said or if she was just speaking to herself. In any event it didn’t matter, she couldn’t say anything that would make me feel any worse than I already did. 

Even so, I could normally easily shrug off the things patients say easily (after all,  most of the time, there just venting at the nearest person which is usually happens to be us nurses) but this time Jane’s words twisted deep into my heart and I was still thinking about them for a few days afterwards.

---

I’m twenty one and I’m on the planet Delta Seven. As soon as I had stepped out of the TARDIS, hand in hand with Amy, I was reminded of the Saharan Desert except for two important differences: firstly, it wasn’t half as hot and secondly, the sand was all different shades of purple.

The Doctor already had a grain of sand between his thumb and forefinger and was looking at it through his glasses.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before” he said

“Never thought I would here you say that” I replied

Normally, I didn’t share the Doctor’s particular brand of being hands on with nature but this time I couldn’t resist. I picked up a handful of sand and the extremely fine grains felt like expensive velvet as they ran through my fingers. I’ve always had trouble understanding how people could like the feeling of sand between their toes but I wouldn’t mind with this sand.  

As I brushed the last remaining bits of sand off my hands, I looked across the expanse and saw that while there wasn’t any dunes there were craters, lots and lots of rocky craters. Some were the size of a manhole cover while others could comfortably accommodate a helipad with some room to spare; weirdly though all of them looked to be about 5 foot deep.

We had walked for five minutes when Amy commented “You know, this isn’t like the sand on Earth”

“Apart from the colour, you mean?” replied the Doctor

“Yeah, it’s so much easier to walk on” she said 

It hadn’t registered with me but she was right; my feet certainly felt more stable here than on the beach at Benidorm, where we had holidayed last year.

Something must have caught the Doctor’s attention as he knelt down and looked at the single blue flower that was poking through the sand.

“Interesting isn’t it?” said Doctor as I approached and crouched down

“Guys?” Amy called out

Hearing her voice tremble like that sent a shiver down my back

The Doctor and I both looked up and followed Amy’s hand to see what she was pointing at. At first I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“No way” I whispered

The shiver down my back was now joined by my blood running cold because of in the distance was a tornado as big as five Big Ben’s stacked and it was moving towards us.

“We need to run, Ponds” said the Doctor

I didn’t need telling twice as I took off at a pelt. Amy quickly caught up with me and as we joined hands we tried to catch up with the Doctor who already a few yards ahead of us. 

I was alternating between looking at my trainers and the TARDIS, but I didn’t dare to look back at the tornado. Actually I didn’t really need to as the sound of the tempestuous wind was getting louder and louder

The TARDIS was now literally just in front of us and all I was thinking about was putting one foot in front of the other. One trainer touched the ground while the other left the ground, one trainer touched the ground while the other left the ground, one trainer touched the ground while the other left the ground and then one trainer didn’t touch the ground but kept on going down and down and down as mavity snatched my hand out of Amy’s and I dropped into a crater.

I didn’t even think about how much my whole body was hurting as I quickly stumbled up to a standing position. My only thought was getting out. I heard Amy yell my name and then call for the Doctor.

“Quick grab my hand” instructed the Doctor as his head and shoulders appeared over the crater’s edge along with Amy’s 

I reached up but was dismayed to find that the crater wasn’t five foot deep after all, it was more like eight foot instead.

Backing away from the craters side I took a running jump but my hand sailed past the Doctors

“Again” pleaded Amy 

This time my hand caught round the Doctor’s wrist. I held on for dear life as Amy grabbed onto my other arm and they both began to lift me out of this perilous situation. In what seemed like forever but must have been only a few seconds my feet kicked at nothing and my chest scratched the craters wall before my head emerged over the caters edge. As soon as most of my torso had been pulled out I started using my elbows to wriggle along the sand and before I knew it, my legs were out as well.

“Let’s go” Amy cried

The Doctor had the sonic screwdriver in his hand and with the other hand he clicked his fingers. The TARDIS doors swung open but we were still a few feet away from its safe embrace.

And then the tornado was upon us.

For the second time in a matter of seconds I was picked off my feet and thrown upwards. I could see Amy below me looking like a ginger Medusa with her hair being blown all over the place as she too was caught in the air current. She was screaming; I can’t remember if I was too

The next thing I knew I was a corner of the TARDIS control room as the Doctor was running around the consol flicking buttons. I frantically looked for Amy and breathed as sign of relief as she was on the other side looking as stunned as I felt. I started crawling towards Amy, but the upper portion of one side of my jeans felt sticky. I didn’t want to but I touched it anyway and my hand came away wet and red. I closed my eyes until my head stopped spinning as much.

Amy hadn’t moved so as the now familiar dematerialising sound filled the control room I shuffled across to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. We stayed like that, not saying anything just watching the time rotor going up and down, for a long time. 

----

The beginnings of the amber sunrise were starting to filter through the museums windows and I could hear the first people arriving for yet another day’s work. I used to hate being clumsy. Now I realise that to be clumsy is to be human. And I want that back.

Authors note: While Ryan has dyspraxia in canon, as a nurse with dyspraxia I like the idea of Rory having it too. Also, having gone through the first thirty two years of my life thinking I was ‘just clumsy’, I wanted to write about a character who didn’t know that dyspraxia was a thing.

I named the Sister in the third recollection as a tribute to one of the best nurses I’ve ever worked with and I named one of the patient after Florence Welch and Daniel Radcliff, both of whom have dyspraxia. The patient’s date of birth was the when the first episode of the First Doctor serial ‘The Romans’ was broadcast.         

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

sorry to message but i just wanted to yell because I saw a post and yOU’RE THE AUTHOR OF FALLOUT FROM THE FADE ???? oh my goodness it’s my favourite fic ive read it SO many times.

i left a comment on ao3 last night because i finished reading it again and i just genuinely hope one day you finish it (i understand you have much going on i am just greedy).

but yes thank you so much for creating it, fenris and hawke are everything to me and this fic is my canon no matter what happens in veilguard. 💜

hahaha HELLO yes that is indeed I... I guess i do owe a little bit of an explanation here since its been uh... like 4 years since I last updated, yeah :| But it still makes me so happy that even after so long people still enjoy my little pile of suffering and yearning!

I don't know how many people who used to follow it are still on tumblr (I think a lot of people i used to write with/who would comment have deleted their tumblrs and AO3 accounts in the intervening years alas) but i do I owe anyone remaining a little context I guess lol. Long story made short is like very shortly after my last update i got broken up with unexpectedly from my 4 year relationship, and went into a bit of a spiral about it. I didn't fully stop writing at this point (though I think nothing I wrote in that like... year or more ended up posted anywhere), but I did realize that when I went to work on my ongoing stuff I was in a place where I was like... only wanting to write about anger/losing relationships rather than healing ones. And that part of me wanted to change some of the things I had planned for the following parts and ending of Fallout From the Fade. And so I decided to take a step back from it for a while to see if I actually wanted to make those changes when I was less bitter or if I wanted to follow my original plan.

And that took me about a year, emotionally. However by then I had actually left my prior job (where I spent a lot of time hiking/camping in the wilderness of Utah with no internet, and I used that time for writing), and started graduate school courses. Aaaannnd grad school has been slowly eating my life since. I've only posted I think one other fanfic since then, and it was a very short prose-poem one shot. Another contributing factor was my gaming tech was too old to actually play Trespasser when it came out, and by the time I got a laptop that could handle it, I had to replay the whole game but I was working full time, etc... and i felt really disconnected from the DA fandom since I couldn't read all the new fic/understand all the lore deep dive posts/experience it with everyone else simultaneously. Oh yeah and I work a second job as a professional mermaid in varying degrees of intensity depending on the season/oportunties available haha.

All that being said. I actually have written more of FFtF in the last 2 years. But like I said in the other post I made kinda recently, the long gaps between my later updates (vs the ones I was doing way more regularly in 2016-2018) had me rethink the approach I was using to write and post it, which was a chapter at a time. It felt like stringing people along in kind of a mean way to dump a chapter and then vanish for another year, and I knew I couldn't promise consistency while doing a masters/PhD program. So I've been kind of fiddling away at it slowly still, both actual writing of following chapters, and some substantial firming up/drafting sections in my outline to get to the eventual ending and ensure it's more cohesive than a lot of my slapdash chapters. But! Idk! I do also def work slower without the fun of having an audience, and miss that. and I never actually asked of the people who are left and still wanna read more of it, if they'd rather just get a chapter every 6 months or so as I scrounge it out. If you are one of those people and have an opinion def let me know.

I will say, the imminent presence of Veilguard does have me more inspired and creative again, and some of that has been going to Fallout. Especially since I'm no longer watching the videos/gameplay bioware is putting out since they have SOOO many spoilers and I wanna go into the game at least semi blind, so my creative energy has to go towards my personal stuff rather than joining everyone else in speculation and hype now. I'm definitely not promising I will have it close to finished by October when Veilguard releases, because I'm still in grad school and the next months are busy for me in terms of mermaid work too, but I am hoping I can make some good chunks of progress between now and then. But then if I say that and can't follow through after all I also don't wanna let people down.

Anyway yeah, it's sort of a lot of conflicting thoughts. But I'm still rotating Hawke and Fenris and this fic in my mind even these years later... which for me is honestly pretty normal. I mean I have whole original novels/worldbuilding ideas/etc that I've worked on for 10-15 years in my own time haha, I've been writing fiction for fun since I was like 10, so I think I also just think of stories/writing across a bigger timeline than people who start writing with fanfiction (which is MUCH faster paced) than original fiction. The difference of course is no one sees my original stuff so there's no one to care if i take 2 years between chunks of progress. SO I guess what I am trying to say is, yes definitely it is not abandoned, I am plodding away at it bit by bit, I also hope I can finish it one day!!!! that is within this decade i hope! whether or not anyone else is left to read it but me haha

[danphantom]

oh hey i wanna talk abt smth thats been on my mind both lately and on and off for a while in general. sorry this ended up being a hella long post lol. but i have a lot to say

so...for context, ive been in the phandom for 10 years--since 2014--though it has admittedly been on and off in terms of engagement from me. in 2017 i got into dragon ball and all but dropped danny phantom completely with a few small drawings here and there. it was only like..within the past week that i actually got back into the phandom legitimately again, actively making art and posts about it and engaging with the source material and etc

anyway, i was obsessed with dp from 2014-late 2017 (until i got into dbz). i made lots and lots of fanart, played the gba games like all the damn time (i got to where i could speedrun tue lol), rewatched the show regularly...i was even one of those fans that bought obscure merch and learned useless trivia that ive since forgotten. in 2015 a lot of you may remember that i made @doppelgangercomic, a comic about an au i had where dan got a redemption arc (albeit a bumpy one) and future vlad was there and stuff happened (go read the comic LOL). it got a LOT of love and traction! it made me really happy to see all the positivity around my work like that :) i actually got a lot of positive responses towards my work in general. i had a really great time in the phandom back then

then i changed fandoms and kinda fell out of the phandom space. after being on a hiatus from the phandom until literally a week ago, i honestly have to say ive felt like i kind of...faded into obscurity in the phandom's eyes? basically i feel like old news. people dont generally know what doppelganger is now. they may have seen my art in passing here and there but they dont know who i am anymore. i think the only place people actively still find my old danny phantom art from when i was heavily active is...deviantart lol. i get notifications from favorites literally every day there. but uh anyway--im not saying this to garner pity or tell a sob story or anything! im just expressing some thoughts and feelings ive had for a long time lol.

the reason i bring this ^ up though, is because like...i know its not true? logically, i know that i DID make an impact in the fandom i loved/love so so much. i left my mark on both the fandom in an artistic sense, and also the people in the fandom, and sometimes i forget that because i get significantly less engagement on my posts than i used to. but i know that doesnt mean that people dont like my stuff anymore, or that ive been forgotten.

i actually got a message from someone today--a friend i made kinda recently who approached me bc they liked doppelganger actually. they told me that basically its surreal to them that theyre talking to me as a friend because they remember reading doppelganger when they were younger and looking up to me because of it. and it really reminded me of what i said previously--ive not been forgotten, and people still do appreciate and love what ive put out into the world (specifically about danny phantom in this case). ive made an impact on people's lives even when i dont realize it or see it physically. the message and sentiment made me feel really really good and nice and happy and honestly relieved, because the phandom and danny phantom as a media has been an extremely important and impactful part of my life ever since i got into it ten years ago. i literally changed my name to dan because of it lol. it was the reason i found stephen silver's work and went down that path of my art journey. its the reason i found so many amazing people and friends and artists and continue to do that even now. i owe a lot to danny phantom and the phandom as a whole, and i try to give back in the only ways i know how--mainly thru showing my passion through my art and posts.

anyway erm. yeah. all of this to say i wanted to thank yall--the phandom--for supporting me all this time, whether youve been with me from the beginning or if youre just joining me recently. youve been an absolute delight in my life and i know youll continue to be for a long time. :)

[powerpolyculeshowdown]

Hi I don't really have any poll related questions or propaganda, but I saw the post you shared and just wanted to put something in your ask box.

I hope you're having a good day! (If it's night time, go to bed. Rest is important.)

Since this IS an ask box, I guess I should as a question of some kind. (I'll try and make it poll related. 💖)

Uuuuummmmm...what's your favorite polycule that you DIDN'T know about before starting this competition?

*looking at the clock on my phone as 01:36am stares back at me and sweats profusely cause u caught me up late*

in my defense ive been having trouble sleeping lately and yeah i know being on tumblr wont help but! my silly polls!! i have to go vote on them!!

as for the question, thats a tough one... im excluding stuff i learned through this blog but before the implied canon showdown to narrow the list, also cause i think u meant this specific competition?

Oh!!! This one was left out cause i was using canon in the fandom sense so it didnt feel right to include folklore, but there will be a post about them as one of the mentions, but i liked the Goldtree and Silvertree tale, it eas submitted to me as being from "scottish/irish folklore" and the website they linked calls it a celtic fairy tale, but i cant rlly get more specific than that about the origin, sorry.

ill get into more details when i make the post, but basily the reason why its my favorite is just that I love to learn about older stories like folklore, fairy tales, myths, etc that represent concepts we're kinda fighting to be accepted nowadays? like obviously idk how this culture felt about polyamorous relationships at the time this story was created. but at least whoever wrote/came up w it was comfortable w that idea, and the story survived through time, and smth abot that is just so meaningful to me, y'know? like sometimes you hear about ancient myths that talk about being trans, or even genders outside the binary, and its a reminder that these concepts have existed for so so long and are part of our nature.

So yeah goldtree, the prince, and the prince's second wife is my favorite submission. the only reason they didnt make it in is i wasnt sure how much of it was folklore i should treat w more respect and how much was just a fairy tale so like any work of fiction which might be silly, but felt like the right decision

also i spentn20 minutes on this it is not closer to 2am uh oh maybe ur right and i should sleep

[the1312daysofchristmas]

hi i wanted to ask something but also share something personal as well. my q is: do you feel like your relationship w social media has changed? meaning, do you catch / notice when you are on it for too long and you start to notice, and then you say: okay let's take a break. for me, i have been online for a long time ever since i was a kid, and now my relationship to it is i only limit myself an hour to being on my phone. as an adult now i am no longer social media "obsessed". like, when i am in school i am not thinking about online, i am present when im at school. i feel like i am really close to just deleting sm tbh. it does not grant me happiness like it used to. now as an adult i feel this need to live my life freely.

i also wanted to ask what are ur thoughts on content influencers? to me when i see these ppl i think...i could never post about everything about my life, but then again understanding that it is just a highlight reel. no one is posting every sad / frustrating thing that happens in their life as influencer, only the "great" parts.

this is an interesting question! i think ive never really had a relationship to social media where i feel like i need to post constantly or felt pressured to share everything. while im definitely the most online out of my household, compared to a lot of other people im not really very present online. i dont like using twitter, i only really use instagram to look at and post art and occasionally post a picture of my cat or nature or food on my main account, i dont really get up to much and i never use facebook unless i have to. i hate it. even here on tumblr i dont post a lot about my personal life unprompted, and this is the social media site i use the most by far. i do scroll tumblr a lot, i do watch a lot of youtube videos (though almost exclusively video essays on politics and recently also artist vlogs) and i do notice myself scrolling a bit too much, particularly when im overstimulated but instead of doing something less stimulating im anxious and looking for a distraction so i like. scroll harder. but ive never been like doing something else and thought 'man, i wish i was scrolling right now'. i dont really know. i do have trouble putting my phone down, like when i need to sleep, but i have trouble putting ANYTHING down. games, books, art or writing or projects im working on, music im listening to, i dont think tumblr is special, its just another activity for me to be distracted by.

all that being said, i did leave social media for a while. i had a really bad experience in a fandom on tumblr (not the pwams incident. that led me to step away from bandom and move to another fandom) and honestly it made me realise that the problem i had with social media wasnt that i was using it too much, but that i had a toxic relationship with the communities i was interacting with on there. the nature of my relationship to social media was unhealthy, not the fact that i had one that was a large part of my life. i think when i wasnt using any social media i actually wasnt in a great place either, because i was isolated from people id cared about, especially since i had just undergone a very traumatic incident, and because of that became very isolated from my in person friends as well, even before the pandemic pushed me away from even the acquaintances i had made. i was worried about coming back to tumblr, but i think ive grown and learned in such a way that i know how i like to comport myself in cyberspaces, and that its been good for me in a way. which is weird, but. i think id kind of have to go in depth about my life and how the pandemic affected me and the specific nature of coming of age in st lucia and stuff. which i dont want to do haha.

as for influencers. i hate the concept. i understand it, and i dont universally hate influencers as a whole, but like. theres this specific kind of content creator where the thing they are sharing is just their life and there isnt like a specific thing theyre logging, like an artist sharing their creative process and how they manage their life around that, or a chef sharing recipes, and its not like theyre doing it just to do it, they have the goal of growing a following, and theyre not advertising anything but themself, like JUST themself, as a person-brand, and i find that so deeply annoying and repulsive. and like thats strong wording its a dog eat dog world and the girlies of all genders need to secure the bag like i get it. i get it. but its revolting to me. like. the vlogbrothers werent trying to get famous they were using youtube to communicate with each other and as an open video diary and people found them to be interesting personalities to watch. right. do you get it. annoyingly i gotta put myself out there if i want people to find my art and pins and stuff so i have to fuckin. make videos. sell people on me. the idea of making vlogs makes me dry heave bc im not important i dont want to have to sell myself like im important i dont want to put my face on a camera and implicitly say with every quirky performed statement i make 'i matter, pay attention to me, i need to exist so look at me' but unfortunately i might have to. a video essay i could do. thats me saying something. but a vlog? with the goal of people finding my stuff? good god. it sounds like poison.

[ruiniel]

Endless - IV

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Rating: M

Relationships: Maedhros/fem!OC

Characters: Maedhros, Celegorm, Curufin, Maglor, Caranthir, Fingon, Fingolfin, Amrod, Amras, Original Elf Character(s), Sauron, more to be added

Tags and warnings: alternating POV, Recovery, Trauma, Beleriand, The Sindar, The Noldor, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dehumanization, Flashbacks, Past Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Mental Anguish, Survivor Guilt, Past Abuse, Alternate Universe, Psychosis, Internalized ableism, POV Original Character, Maedhros POV, more tags coming

Also on AO3

IV. Before dawn

The night was cold and unyielding when Mithiel reached her tent, her mind afire over the first encounter with the king of these people.

I am not at my best.

She chewed her lip, placing the journal Maedhros had given her on the table in the corner and taking a seat. He wanted to learn their language, which would apparently become part of her responsibilities. In truth, having now seen more of his demeanor — vastly different from his earlier mood at dinner — the prospect was as good as the circumstance allowed and would suit her approach. She hoped.

And Mithiel had spoken true on the topic of escaped thralls. But what she had seen of them, what she’d dealt with treating the shells of the Elves they once were, the vacant gazes and broken wills… the scarred Elf sitting before her tonight had possessed none such traits. He was undoubtedly marked and maimed in more ways than one by his ordeal at the hands of the Enemy, but there was resilience, that same silver-gold hope brimming in the depths of a blue-grey stare, fuelling her own determination.

He was often in pain, that much was certain; both physical and otherwise, but still he’d tried his best with her and that had also been evident, apologies notwithstanding. Mithiel still recalled the jerk of his body and the brief look of caged despair when she leaned closer to touch him, to wipe his cheek.

What have you lived through? she wondered, opening the journal and skimming over the writings in the hand of one who, it is said, turned to ashes upon death, finally consumed by the fire of his willful fëa.

Undoubtedly, this was his son, Mithiel concluded with half a smile, long fingers trailing over the neat binding and crisp pages, the beauty of the flowing script. 

She pored over the notes for some time, indeed finding nothing to correct: the observations were insightful and showed an unmistakable linguistic prowess. Mithiel read on, the soft light from the holders splashing over details on her people’s customs and language, all through the eyes of a newcomer.

Once the letters began twirling before her eyes, adding to a yawn’s overture, Mithiel closed the journal. She looked to her new bed with its welcoming folded arrangements. Despite the lateness of the hour, the prospect of sleep — or rather, of lying still — beckoned little. She felt like a seabird bound to a cliff, a wave seeking shores to crash against. Her limbs moved, set to remove her outer layers of clothing while her mind roamed far. 

She did not pity him, no. She thought of the way the yellow lights gleamed on his auburn hair, a beautiful shade framing a face carved by wielders of woe and hatred. As she sat on the bed, undoing her plait, their conversation resurfaced like restless fireflies. 

His questions, the cool assessment of her on his part Mithiel attributed to uncertainty. After all, this Elf had lived through the horrors of the mountain dungeons, had borne the yoke of slavery to the endless dark. His interest in her experience with the others was genuine, she could not fault him that.

She was pacing through the tent again before long, and since sleep eluded her and would do so for a while — since the first rising of the sun, parsing the waking hours from strips of night left erratic resting patterns — she donned her outer layers again and her cloak, then exited the tent. A little reconnaissance on her own away from the watchful eyes of princes would aid in obtaining a footing besides.

“What are… what are you doing here?” Maedhros asked, eyes still feverish as he took in Fingon’s windswept hair, the pronounced hollows and dips in his features, highlighted by the tall fires lit nearby. He was much thinner than in Valinor times, the struggles marked in his yet handsome face.

Fingon shrugged, glancing at his cousin with a kind smile, one of those crooked affairs leaving most people seeking more of it. “You might think me foolish.”

“Many already do, for your deliverance of me. Say on.” 

His kinsman sighed. “I had strange, strange dreams as of late. One learns to discard some of Irmo’s nightly incursions into one’s mind, but I was restless during the day, moreso after sundown. I wanted to… I must return soon, I cannot stay. I will not linger on news, my cousins will no doubt relay all that business when they reach you,” he spoke as Maedhros regained himself. 

Maedhros nodded. Fingolfin would not look kindly upon his son’s incursions into the Fëanorian camp, that much was plain, no matter the honor Fingon had gained among them, and irrespective of the few changes it brought. Thinking of current matters pacified his mind, and the cold bit into his cheek, seeped through his thought and quelled its feverish unrest. Fingon’s presence also aided though Maedhros could do little but pull at the loose threads of his own tunic until they unraveled completely, a ceaseless habit developed since his return to consciousness.

“Shall we go to your marquee to speak?” Fingon asked, looking this way and that, to the guards and other folk staring long at him — some with respect, some with awe, most with unease still. 

Maedhros swallowed. Cowardly though it was, he could not return there, not now. “Or… or join me by the fires?” he asked, blinking away a flashing vision of sharp, white teeth. He gestured at the people already gathering to one side of the settlement. 

Fingon acquiesced, “As you wish.”

They settled for a place farther from the others, sitting side by side down on a woodcrafted bench, watching the figures hallowed by flames and the sparks from the bonfires soaring up and dying in the night.

“Your people would rally to you,” Fingon spoke suddenly, and Maedhros knew why he had come.

He threw a stick into the nearest fire. “But yours would not.” He sighed. “Finno…”

Fingon gazed at him silently, urging Maedhros to continue with a dip of his chin. 

“I have seen…” Again, his tongue was in knots though he wanted to speak of it, knowing Fingon would listen if it meant it brought him relief. But he could not. To this day, he could not even share with his brothers what squirmed and haunted his innermost burrows of the heart. He stared into his cousin's expectant, hopeful gaze. Yes, he wanted to speak of it, but each time he tried, the stench of decay stifled his thoughts, and shadows blurred his memory. And then, there was… there was… 

Fingon shifted in his place, his speech low on the backdrop of other voices rising in soft humming a distance away. “Nelyo? I am here.”

Maedhros conjured his first memories of that lair, later proven to be only a skim of what followed. He closed his eyes at the unreal pressure of savage fingers wrapped around his throat, and turned his mind to the present, latching onto the sounds of a flute playing nearby. “I stood before the creatures he breeds; I knelt before his throne.” He glanced sideways at Fingon, catching the tremor of his clenched fists. “There are... no words, for the ways they seek to humiliate our people; for the torments they devise.”

Fingon peered at him with that cutting gaze and a calculating, righteous flare of ire Maedhros knew all too well. He burned with his own fire. It urged him to continue on the same spur that, in happier times, drove them together. Past the fires he looked, where his—their people gathered and mingled despite the foul-smelling fog, sharing in sweet-scented mead, their cloaks and shawls drawn tight about them. The words inched away from his scarred lips; the Silmarilli were bright in his mind. “The way we stand, now, will not avail us,” Maedhros said at last. 

“Somehow, I knew you would say this... and then?”

“I have yet to find an answer to that. But…” Maedhros looked his cousin in the eye. He knew Fingon, like the rest of Fingolfin's people, had not wholly, if at all, forgiven the betrayal. He knew his cousin had sought to retrieve him, desperate and alone, mainly for the closeness they once shared and the love that still bound them. “We should act as one host, not two.”

His kinsman nodded, then his bright gaze sought the skies, perhaps for long lost stars.

“I will… try to speak with Ñolofinwë,” Maedhros added. “Many are still wary and resentful, as I know they have a right to be,” he looked in sorrow upon Fingon, who’d lost friends, whose brother had lost a wife to the Ice and more. “The odd fights and conflicts, while not as frequent as before, have not ceased, have they?”

Fingon shook his head. 

“I know many of our own are remorseful,” Maedhros unraveled another thread from the sleeve of his right wrist. “Many had friends and kin among your host; many had looked in wonder upon you and saw crippled families, grief and a loss that is their own.”

“And yet.”

“And yet.” Maedhros clenched and unclenched his good hand. “Penance must be shown. Somehow.”

“Please tell me you do not speak of yourself, Maitimo,” Fingon murmured, shaking his head. “Even if it were so, your penance I have seen with my own eyes. You need not do more.”

Maedhros grit his teeth at the name, though coming from Fingon, it lost some of its acquired dread in the dungeons. “Dear Findekáno, you always thought too much of me.”

“One of us has to,” Fingon muttered, not unkindly. “Tell me, what are your thoughts?“

Maedhros nodded, looking blankly ahead. “It would be a start. It must be done. And then, our deeds should match our words.”  

“Nelyo.” Fingon raised a hand, his hesitant palm close to Maedhros’ shoulder, the question in his eyes.

Maedhros could not blame his caution, for after all, he had scratched and torn at his cousin with wiry limbs before, first prey to a rabid confusion upon the eagle’s back; he remembered mighty wings spread like great sails, and a confusing warmth cocooning him after years being whipped bare by the elements. He lowered his head, swallowing at the slight pressure on his shoulder. “That is not all,” Maedhros said.

Fingon released him slowly. He curled a knowing brow. “No.”

“Even before we set out on the march, there was division, was there not? You remember; I stood by Father, I could do nothing else. I... we, loved and still love him fiercely, you know this truth though it must hurt. But it was impossible to ignore how many looked to Ñolofinwë, to you; how many refused to renounce him. Do you recall?”

Fingon let his head fall back, gazing through the mists. “I remember the arguments, the fights. I remember fearing you’d break with so much tension amid all that strife, which both troubled and drew me closer to it all. But even those who had no love for my uncle were moved by his words, and I was one of them.”

Maedhros stared ahead, then back down, noticing his restless fingers had unravelled the hem of his sleeve. “But you did not knowingly slay your own.”

“No,” Fingon gritted, his voice turned hoarse, “we did so unknowingly,” he added with bitterness. “Do you forget most of us carry the guilt for those same crimes? I have not, nor has Father. They changed us all.” 

Maedhros said nothing, and Fingon sat and pondered for a while. The murders lay thick and heavy between them, in blood and saltwater. “How strange to look upon the past. We all saw untrodden lands before us, a return to an ancient homeland, to thrive with our knowledge and skill.”

“That may still come to be,” Maedhros spoke unto the flames, his voice flat and expression thoughtful. 

Fingon hummed. “You know, Russo, there is aught I’ve come to know on these shores,” he glanced at his cousin, a glint in his eye reminding Maedhros of bygone Tirion. Fingon was much the same in spirit, he found, save for the sharper edge to his dusky features and the icy resolve in his eyes. “The shadows are deepest before dawn.”

Maedhros turned the words over in his head. He added, lighter of mood than he’d felt in weeks, with a shade of snark he used to wield well. “Then, we must be near to dawn.”

Fingon shook his head with barely a whiff of laughter. “This I will say. Father is of a like mind with you. But keep your own counsel on this, for now. Please.”

“Have I ever been loose-tongued?”

“No, indeed. My father’s always known division will cripple us after we met the Enemy on the field, faced his stronghold and leaguer. But he is loath to foster more conflict and bring forth more dissent from ones holding resentment against those who abandoned them. Some would still rather punish than forgive.”

Maedhros caught Fingon’s gaze, and with much difficulty, smiled his smile that hurt. The light of the flames danced crookedly upon his scars. “I am hoping my attempt will aid in that respect.”

“My cousins—” Fingon began.

“... are my subjects,” Maedhros countered, frowning as he stared ahead. “Leave that matter to me.” Surprising even himself, he found a strong belief in his own words.

Fingon sighed again, his dark brow lifting in tune with a pointed half-smile, both tender and sorrowful. He lowered his head in a nod. “Well. I, for one, trust you.”

The muscles in his jaw unwound into the broader likeness of a smile, and Maedhros nearly did not utter the words. “After everything.” Emotion wound about his inner being like stubborn weeds on barren mountain paths.

“Moreso, after everything.”

When done paying a short visit to see her horse, pleased at the care with which he’d been tended to and sheltered, Mithiel took to wandering aimlessly through the settlement. The chill brought a sprint to her step, her silver hair hallowed in the pale blue light shed over paths by those peculiar, captivating lamps hung throughout the wide campsite area.  Soon, this will be as sturdy as a kingdom proper, since their builders I’m told are as gifted and speedy as their kin abiding on the opposite lakeside,  she thought. Mithiel knew these same folk had already built stone dwellings there, which they abandoned upon the arrival of their bedraggled kindred who’d survived the Ice. 

She walked, and walked, until the restless discord of thought within was somewhat abated, and her spirit was soothed by the stir of life around her. Already she missed her home, the small, warm cottage with its dark wood, its strong scents of herb and poultice. Already Mithiel missed her father, but steadied herself thinking of the duty promised to fulfil. 

The night spread like a giant formless beast slumbering across the land, and somewhere not far, a flute was playing. The music soothed, and as drawn by a foreign spell, Mithiel neared, finding her way towards many tall, bright fires. They soared against the blackness as in defiance of the persistent fog, and the folk gathered round them seemed none too different to her own during such cold, endless a night as Mithrim had known, long before the rising of the Sun. 

A flat, shining surface reflected back golden light not far to the right — the expanse of the great lake. Mithiel approached; by this time, it should be layered in ice, she thought, as happened already with many pools in the area at this time of year. She looked to the fires, but though their warmth teased her cheeks and the gathering seemed merry, her feet took her closer to the water’s edge. 

Drawing nearer, she saw another standing there, alone, gazing out into the distance; she discerned a tall, lithe frame, a dash of auburn in the ever-dancing firelight. At first, she wavered. Had he not found rest yet, either?

Turning back would be cowardice, though she halted some distance away, thinking he might favor his solitude; all Mithiel truly wanted now was to look upon the great mirror. 

She gazed into the murky darkness, unable to discern anything on the far opposite side due to the brume. But the stray light behind her glittered gold and orange over the glazed body of water, and though she missed the stars, this had a beauty all its own.

“Does rest elude you, Mistress?” 

Mithiel started, not having expected him to recognize her, let alone speak. They parted amiably enough—considering the circumstances, and she wanted to keep it that way. After all, she had work to do.

“No more than it does you, my—lord,” she settled. 

There was silence again, for a long time.

“Your people were the first to inhabit these lands, were they not?” came the question after a while.

“It is so,” Mithiel replied, still watching the lake, receiving a hum in response.

Though his manner was not light, the question had been merely that: a question. And so, Mithiel dared her own. “Is it true?” she asked. “That you looked upon the faces of the Ones of the West?” She knew the Ñoldor worshipped them, more than any of their kindred, and had heard they abided by their side and thrived in the kingdoms of that realm. 

“I have,” came the answer, “Even as they cursed us, I have.”

Mithiel faltered, “I— I am not sure I understand,” she added, her damned curiosity getting the better of her; suddenly she fretted having upset him; from what she’d seen of his nerves, they were curled and strung to the point of snapping most of the time. 

“No. But perhaps one day you will,” Maedhros said, and turned away even as Mithiel, out of instinct, neared to aid him; he stopped her with a sharp gesture of his left hand. “Good night once again, Mistress. I will see you on the morrow.”

“Rest well, king Nelyafinwë,” Mithiel spoke, and thought she heard a snort as she watched his retreat, and she wound her arms around herself tighter against the bitterness in his voice. 

Part I

[jackienautism]

going 2 be real for a sec

i usually keep this stuff to myself since its super personal and i probably will just sound like a crazy person bu t i really just want to get something down and post it and MAYBE get some sort of like ? validation. that im not the only one who feels this way or does this LOL

so just. long story short. does anyone get like physically ill over seeing someone else like . engaging and doing "more" with a special interest slash interest youre really really into? like. just like 10 or os minutes ago somethting happened and i started lowkey shaking and shit (but maybe its just bc its real hot where i am rn but idk) and felt sick to my stomach all bc someone was engaging "more" with something i rly rly like and i just uuuuugh

ive had this feeling ever since i got into until dawn and the quarry lol...... this feeling has been occurring a lot less frequently than during like last year. which like. speaking of. when the quarry first came out the feeling came and WEEEENT....... ALLL THE TIME. like i wasnt even into the game that much yet but seeing other ppl engaging w/ and making content for it...... made me feel suuuper ill. or maybe was it when i first started getting into it? yeah i think it was when i first started hyperfixating. but anyway LOL IT WAS A TERRIBLE FEELING. AND IT HAPPENED SO OFTEN TOO

luckily its gotten a lot better in terms of the quarry. especiailly after joining tumblr and all. but until dawn? naaah its still very much there lol. as i said earlier, it doesnt happen as much as it used to (in regards to UD) but. it stilll happens. as i just fucking found out. ive settled down quite a bit now but good god

until dawn is such a dead fandom but theres just some things that when i see it it still makes me go wiiiild (negative). i dont know why. it makes feel so sick. and i dont hold it against anyone of course, it just affects me interacting w/ slash following people LOL! and it mainly has to do w/ sam and emily LMAO especiallly sam as ive come to find out.... i think its becasue ive projected sooo much of myself onto her that im like super protective and shit. like... shes not your fictional public character shes MINE. and thats not your public piece of media. its MINE. you know?

and its liike. i KNOW that there are ppl who are more into UD and have been into it longer than i have. i know that. and htat doesnt always affect me. but tthen therr are just osme other times where it seriously DOES and its just.... man. i wish i werent like this LMAO

i think thats like the. basis of it. im just. man. and its such a hard thing to shake off ): i know im just gonna have to "get over it" and "learn to live w/ it" but man!!!!!!

idk man. just seeing others "understanding" a character "more" than i do and seeing others do suuuuper in depth character analyses just..... ESP if its characters i rly relate to and basically projected every part of ,my being onto........ it makes me ill!!!!!! like genuinely!!!!!!!!!

and its like weird bc like. i was SUPER into mean girls the musical back in 2019 / 2020 and so forth. but i dont ever remember getting THIS BAD over others being "more" into it than i was. and this isnt just straight up jealousy. i know how that feels and its DEFINITELY not that. i truly dont know what makes until dawn / the quarry so different. maybe becasue this was the first time ive engaged more with the fandom? especially on tumblr? i dont know man. i dont kn ow

hopefully this makes sense. im just tired

[mg549]

tagged by @graveyardrabbit 👍!

last song: mama by mcr <3

currently watching: nothing 😔✊idk its hard to get me to watch tv shows. oh i did jst remember like 2 years ago or sth i started watching Every X-Files Ever with a big excel sheet of all my opinions and shit. but its been hard to get thru bc the later seasons have not been very enjoyable and also ive been Busy with work n putting out consistent art n shit that its hard to justify sitting down and not doing anything for that long ig. ive also slowly been getting thru various slasher franchises&watching iconic horror movies since i love horror but havent watched a lot of the movies, &its easier for me to get thru an hour and a half of sth Complete than 45 mins of a Part of a larger story. the original scream is def the cream of the crop of what ive seen so far, meanwhile i watched the first saw last night and it was incredibly stupid and frustrating to watch. 9/11 rly took its toll on media

currently reading: 😶 even harder than videos bc i absolutely cannot multitask while reading. recently finished frankenstein (which i started literally almost 3 years prior (its not that long or difficult i jst struggle to justify spending time on things that i dont consider “work” in my brain) (also it was p good but you could literally cut out the second part and the story would benefit imo it jst rly slogs down the pace and axes any tension for a lot of details that could be conveyed much quicker if they were explained in less detail)) and the communist manifesto (didnt take nearly as long bc its like pamphlet length gbdkjd) edit everyone go read izroulia actually a new series came out today&i haven't been able to read it yet but its been keeping me going fr i love how earnest it is in being itself its such a good piece of safe media for me if that makes sense

current obsession: ughhhhhhhhh ive been in between obsessions for a lil bit i feel like. idk this is sth i struggle w/ bc the last thing i felt fully like Enveloped in was the adventure zone (orig. arc) which ended. 5 years ago. lemon demon&lemonville came shortly after but it was hard to feel it was on the same scale bc it was actively in creation as i was there and associated #Drama also lessened its grip faster than it would’ve had it been like an existing show or sth. plus theres less ppl obvs. had a brief good omens phase but it burned out pretty quick bc i had so thoroughly dissected it very quickly. &since then ive kind of jst been cycling between existing interests (monster high/fashion dolls in general, mercreatures, creepypasta/slenderman/horror in general) plus the occasional mcr blast but it doesnt quite Grip the same bc there arent like Characters i can rotate. the best ive gotten is obsessing over my own ocverses but its not the same.... idk i rly rly Want to feel the Passion that fandom brings but none of the media thats blown up interests me enough to consider consuming the media or i take a peak&dont like it cause im picky...idk my fundamental problem is that im picky and hard to please bc i can deconstruct things so easily to see its Bones and if a story is more surface level and straightforward and easy to understand its hard for me to keep my attention on it at the stage of my life im in. that being said aquamarine is my fave movie tho so. but then again i think ppl jst write it off cause its a chick flick. idk recommend me things but dont be surprised if its not my vibe ig

ummmmmmmmmmm idk who to tag u can do this if u want to&say i tagged u but i think i was kinda a bummer w/ these answers so 😔✊

[layzeal]

Hello!

This is my opinion, please correct me somehow im really willing to change since thats how i am with new fandoms i get myself into(is it really new if i have known it for 2 years) anyway, please forgive my insolence. I just wanna ask what you think of cql changing a lot themes (especially that importance they have put on yunmeng trios ( its to the point ive ask my myself if JYL manipulates WWX, you know guil tripping forcing someone to be with you (obv not romantically) out of pity or other) (and downgrading certain things like JC's cruelty or washing WWX making him not lose control but have outside factors) (the timeline is also confusing) and i just felt like most of the lessons in mdzs was not successfully implemented in the live action. There were a lot of times that made me leave the show halfway because i was hoping for a lot of wangxian actions (it was 50 epi after all) but most of it was in flashback and focuses too much on the said trio. then the sudden change of story into XXC and XY, and the little changes too like LQY being a Jin disciple.

and also about that LWJ self harm ask, ive read some meta about it him being sad and in grief, another saying its a part of remembering WWX (which for me is so ridiculous, which part exactly will remind him of WWX, the self harm part of the scars?) and frankly im more inclined to believe thats its a mistake he have done while drunk and grieving, he has to let it out somehow and without logic and inhibitions he must have done it after seeing the torture weapon?? like its not a planned thing( but who am i talk, it could be depression speaking) which is not making sense how do you manage to find it just lying so it could also have been because something have reminded it of him. i honestly wanna stop thinking about the hows so i just ask.

another point id like to ask is how do people manage to have questions that sounds so amazing? idk the word for it. but you know what i mean, bizarre then people like you somehow have the word to explain such things. how long does it usually take you to articulate what you mean, and what process are you using that makes it so easy to understand.

hi friend!! so, for a brief history: i actiually got into MDZS through CQL back in june 2021, and i really loved it!! however, there were a lot of things that were very confusing to me (especially the timeline), which is why i decided to pick up the novel, because i was very very interested in understanding the whole picture!

(more under cut)

but as you can see by now, my fandom content has almmost exclusively switched to novel/audio drama canon! and well, there's not really much secret about it, other than me just vastly preferring the novel's narrative, for many of the reasons you mentioned! my general stance on CQL is that, while it's a pretty bad adaptation that fails in a lot of ways to convey some themes of the original work, it does work really well as its own, independent thing, and that's kinda how it exists in brain? i've kinda grown a wall of separation between the two, in which i don't really see CQL as MDZS, and tend to appreciate it on its own (ie. for as much as i LOVE wangxian's relationship in the novel, there really is something incredibly tasty about how it was done in the show that only works within that universe)

but most of all, i only watched cql like, once, and can remember VERY little about it, so it's why i don't really feel comfortable talking about its changes because i genuinely cannot remember how they were executed LMAO. but YEAH there are more changes i dislike than i like, and whether they were made because of censorship or not, it's still sad how much lost potential there was :(

and @ you last question: oh, thank you so much!! hmm, i do tend to just kinda... write down what i'm thinking, so the words you're reading are pretty much my exact train of thought haha i guess i can be really thankful to having reached a level of english fluency that allows me to make-up sentences in my mind already in english, rather than having to translate them beforehand. a lot of my practice experience was actually by doing writing and roleplaying here on tumblr, so maybe that's related! just reading and writing a lot can definitely help you develop an easier way to articulate your thoughts. it's why i love doing media analysis, really, i get so excited about something from a piece of media that i HAVE to share, and for that to work i need to articulate it well enough, so it's very motivating! does that make sense? i hope so dkjfhjdfkg

hope you have a good day, anon <3

[wyncest]

also yeah, i did spend like 2 hours tonight in a wikipedia rabbit hole because of the lesser key of solomon. Book i still havent read (though i did buy), but i have been curious about this specific book for about a year now

this originiated from when i was looking for demon names ~a year ago and stumbled across the ars goetia wikipedia page. my interest was piqued, to say the least

(this was pre-supernatural, for me. ive been interested in demons for As long as ive known about them, but ive just never bothered actually doing any research.

the first ever anime i watched was devil is a part timer, and i saw it in 2015. was definitely obsessed with demon related media since then, and everytime i see something with demons or angels in it, i gotta watch it. when i first found out about good omens i felt like i was given a drug, seriously. Maybe i should read the bible. or like, paradise lost, lol

about 3 years ago i actually became More Interested due to a game called paradise killer, prob my favourite game of all time aside from what remains of edith finch. one of the main investigations centers around the use of demonology by one of the characters to kill the council, which, as they should, that was the bourgeoisie fr)

i came across bathin and stolas who i promptly start shipping and making ocs of. (the name stolas i knew because of the Band, and really i didnt know it was the name of a demon. and also apparently stolas is in helluva boss or somthing. or hazbin. i dont know but thats not what im talking about)

yes i made them in the sims. They are demons and quite frankly i think they should kiss.

yes, this screenshot is from a fandom wiki but this lore is from ars goetia

i mean, theyre basically cottage lesbian witches, or something (/j). i mean, stones and herbs? thats like, lesbian 101. i dont care if its an owl and a snake.

i would show the art i did of them but alas. its bad. but to explain, the way i headcannoned it was that bathin (at least, in his human form) was a pretty muscular guy, but more like an otter. lol. but he had a snake tail. and stolas was a twink with a black bob and oh yeah he could turn into an owl.

not lore accurate, but all of this is make believe and just really fun to play with

iirc, i actually had a demon oc before this, asmodeus, but i kind of gave up on the guy (sorry), i think i didnt develop him enough as a character. but i did like. an unholy amout of picrews for the guy. was definitely obsessed with this certain image i had of the guy in my head

anyway. thats all i have to say. will probably keep rambling about this later, as i am kind of similar to that crowley guy in that way (except, without the nazism) (can anyone tell me if he was a nazi or a communist. wiki seems to think hes both but that just. doesnt name any sense)

[loyalestmunch]

11.19.23

actually the loneliest ive ever felt. i dont have a best friend. the two friends that i do have both have boyfriends n are preoccupied with them. im always in my room. im always in my four walls. i dont have a life outside of here. and i hate it so much.

i dont have someone i can spontaneously visit whenever i want anymore. i dont have a safe person that will always make time for me. if im sad, i dont have someone to go to. and it fuckiing sucks.

what sucks even more is when i sleep until 5 pm and check my phone to zero notifications. ts makes me go right the fuck back to sleep

i made an editing acc on tt. its cool its got like 70 smth followers so far. i really fucking hope i can make friends on there. but like. everyone in the editing community is like. 15 or 16. it just sux i used to edit at those ages too but now here i am at 18 (almost 19!) crawling back to the editing community to maybe find even a small glimpse of the happiness it gave me when i was younger. but nothing beat the feeling of dreaming of an edit in ur head all day.... waiting till school got out... running (literally) home to whip ts up on video star before i forgot it and then uploaded it and shared it amongst my little editing friends. and then i'd stay up late until 2 am or so watching and saving other edits i thought were cool. even in quarantine, i found joy in editing. november 2020 was actually the worst year of my life but also the best i miss it so much i miss the plethora of friends i used to have fuck. i miss playing identity v otp all night long with ray, i miss playing genshin in vc and doing stupid shit and farming for artifacts for hours on end with jazzy and tason and ray and gabby. my poor ipad wld overheat and my fingerprints would burn from dragging them across the hot screen but i didnt care . it was fun.

edit im not done i have more things i want to reminisce about .

ive been rewatching rick and morty and keeping up with the new seasons in the same sense that i watched it in middle school and now im crawling back to see if it brings me the same joy. and it does !. for the most part. but since justin got fired rip there's new voice actors. and it's fine honestly i dont care that much im still gna watch it but i hate how everythings changing. 13 year old me cldnt begin to fathom rick and morty losing (one of its) most renowned creator(s). like fuck. he voiced RICK AND MORTY. BOTH. like holy fuck. but its fine i guess the writings still kinda the same and the show is funny and makes me happy. i wish i had someone i cld take with me everywhere like my own little morty . i need friends.

i also miss the essence of boxed fettuchine(???) alfredo while watching r/m or camp camp at gammys house. ts was fire

i miss the roblox theme park tycoon and the chocolate cake we made that day and ate. it was so good.

i miss the lego game my cousin and i wld play. we didnt even do anything my mind just couldnt believe an open map game i haad so much fun just walking around and looking and doing absolutely nothing. and eating reheated pizzahut. and mcdonalds cookies. and funfetti boxed cake.

i miss when i had my phone taken when mom and i stayed at gammys when parents almst got divorced and i used her old iphone 5 she forgot she gave me and i had my little fandom acc on insta with my little mooties and friends and the warmth of gammys house in november fuck i miss it all i miss growing up so much i hate being an adult. i cant fucking have fun sober i dont have friends im alone nearly every single day i dont have friends in college i dont ta\lk to anyone i fucking just show up and leave without removing my earbuds.

and i know its my fsult. i know im the reason why i dont have friends. im the only reason why im like this. i only do it to myself.

im so alone and i just keep fucking regressing to find happiness because there's none here in present day thats for sure !

[my-lunaberg]

I went on a TftSMP binge yesterday before watching The Maze for the first time and I thought it would be fun to rank them :D Thats it, lets start !!

The Beach Episode: Ive only watched this one once when it first came out and it was so boring and I disliked it so much that when it came time to watch it again as part of my rewatch(es), I just didnt. The premise is fun enough but the execution is really lacking and I really hate how it breaks continuity, I know its petty but that kinda stuff is really important to me. I dont have much else to say, I didnt like it very much and if it were up to me, it wouldnt be canon but it clearly is so. whatever

The Haunted Mansion: Again, the premise is fun and I like the idea of a tale taking place in like, the near future and still featuring some characters we know from the present day mixed in with original characters, but again, I thought the execution was lacking. TftSMP lives and dies by its characters imo and I didnt particularly like any of them. The twins were pretty cute and I always enjoy Schlatt's performance but idk it just wasnt enough for me

The Town That Never Was: Honestly, I keep forgetting this one and I wasnt sure if I should even watch it since I didnt watch it the first time around but I watched it now and I cant say I regret it. It does feel very disconnected and it does feel weird to count it as part of TftSMP but its a neat little episode 0-type thing (even if it does feel pretty out of character for Karl ngl lol)

The Village That Went Mad: Ah, the one that started it all. Im so glad the fandom looked at this one and collectively decided that Karl was a time traveller because without it we probably wouldnt have gotten the rest of the series without it! Its pretty neat, although I do wish they did a bit more roleplaying because the most entertaining parts were definitely the in-charcter interactions

The Lost City of Mizu: This is where TftSMP starts getting really good imo. Its kind of an interesting how it almost acts as a transition of sorts, from the more gamified format to more traditional roleplay. Ive already made a post about this, but I think itd be neat if they would remake this one, because the concept is so good and I really enjoyed the interactions between Cleetus, Benjamin and Ranboos character (I forgot his name sry) but the format and the need to rush through the story felt really restricting. I also really enjoyed the details about the lack of food and stuff going wrong with the oxygen system which I never really noticed on my previous watches but really came to appreciate this time. I also liked how clueless Ranbob seemed, I honestly dont think that was an acting choice I think cc!Dream was just actually inexplicably unprepared but I thought it was really funny. Like, it seemed like he wasnt given a name or didnt have one prepared so he just made it up on the spot lol

The Pit: The premise of this one was really fun! I am a little upset that we didnt get the Ran lore that was apparently planned but it worked fine without it. Honestly, I dont have much to say, the characters were fun, I do wish we couldve seen them interact among each other a bit more but I still liked it.

The Wild West: Full disclosure, The Masquerade has been a long time favorite of mine and I was very sure it was gonna be my top one and while I ended up being right, this one is still very high up the ranking and it is the funniest one for sure. There were so many funny and dare I say iconic moments, I dont think I could list them all but my top three moments were: "This is where I keep my mail and. wife", Percy's introduction and exchange with John John, any moment with Jack Kanoff. I also appreciate the reference to The Masquerade :D

The Maze: I was soooooo excited when I read the premise and I'd be a lying if I wasnt a little bit dissapointed at the execution. However, Slimecicle absolutely carried this entire thing on his back, I absolutely adored his performance. That ending twist was also just great, idk why it got me the way it did but it elevated the entire episode for sure. The lore it ended on was also really interesting, although a bit disappointing in retrospect now thats basically over. I hope they integrated some of the lore from TftSMP into the main storyline as well because I do think its very interesting

The Masquerade: MY FAVORITE :DDDDD I adore murder mysteries in fancy mansions and I adore masquerades so yeah, ofc I love this one. I loved everyones fancy outfits, I loved Techno as Sir Billiam III, I loved Karl flirting with Mason, I loved the twist UGHHH. I also thought this episode was really funny, even if not as funny as The Wild West. My standards for humor arent that high tbh, I just liked how they made fun of rich people lmao. I think my favorite moment was probably the one where Karl was hiding in that closet with Sebastian and he was getting murdered right next to him, it was surprisingly tense. All around great, I loved it

[heybinnie]

~

[teenandbeyond]

could i request a part 3 of your yautja x reader series ! its such a good read ive been catching myself going back and rereading it all over again !

Yautja x Fem. Reader Pt.3

Decided to kill two birds with one stone for the last of the three shots.

I wanted to sate your thirst, dark fic readers since y'all been asking for a while (even though I'm not the best with this style, nor is it my usual type).

Edit: Low-key had to rewrite this before it turned into some 50 Shades of Grey shit...I got...invested (which says a lot considering I'm not deep into the Predator fandom.) Then I got sleepy, so I didn't double word check :) Edit 2: If y'all ever want to request the prince again, I can do it outside of the series...probably, it depends.

Want more from me? Masterlist 1 Masterlist 2

Part 1

Part 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Little Princess (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut content, breeding, jealous Yautja, squirting, size difference, long asf (Might be the longest I've done for Yautja?), fingering, noncon details, possible triggers, exhibition (being watched), whipped Yautja (couldn't help but add a pinch of fluff for the last one)

The prince Ta'yto seems to have taken quite the liking to you, you've become his little Princess to breed...

✨✨✨✨✨

You briskly walked through the halls of the palace, not wanting to be late.

Ta’yto didn’t appreciate when you were late, last time you were punished for it, forced to sit on his lap throughout an entire meeting, how embarrassing.

The thing was, this place was a labyrinth and with the language barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to ask for directions. You had to solely depend on your memory.

Peeking down one way, your gaze flicked over the long walkway, “Here? No there isn’t a candelabra there…”

Which only left the walk way to your left a few feet ahead, you stalked ahead.

Just as you made the turn, you bumped into a solid chest, the firmness making you collapse to the ground, all the jewelry you wore ringing in the hall.

“Owww…” you rub at your forehead, squinting your eyes and craning your head up to see who you bumped into.

It was a Yautja male, not the prince you belonged to, Ta’yto had longer hair and he was wider, this one was slim.

“Sorry—Um…You don’t speak English, right, that’s pointless, [Name],” you muttered to yourself.

You stumble to stand up and straighten yourself due to the slim fit and flowiness of your dress.

A few clicks was all you got in response.

You gave a polite smile, “I should get going—”

He titled your chin up with a finger, seeming to observe you, arm pausing in its movement as he took sight of your blooded symbol.

“Ah…I should get going…”

As you moved to leave he grabbed your arm, easily stopping you, he began to trail his other hand from your chin to your hip.

“Let me go. This isn’t a good idea—”

You were cut off by a growl that felt like it shook the palace.

The predator touching you turned around to kneel to who was in front of him, which meant one thing…

The prince was here to collect you.

His footsteps must have been light before, they were heavy like thunder now.

He stopped in front of him, gesturing for him to stand and when he did stand…

You actually realized how tall Ta’yto was compared to someone other than you, he was at least a whole head taller than the predator in front of him. Having to lean down to be face-to-face—since at the moment his mask-thingy was off (you didn’t know what it was called).

There were a few exchanges of clicks, before Ta’yto decided to toss him away at the wall that connected to the entry of the other hallway.

You had to blink a few times to process that he tossed a fully-grown predator—you assumed anyway—with ease.

Then his head slowly turned to you.

You raised your hands in surrender, “I didn’t—ah! Put me down!”

He had simply tossed you over his shoulder, resting his hand comfortably on your ass as he turned to leave to his quarters like he usually did.

You see, after the fifth time with you, he decided you would officially be his mate. You were his favorite, so you had the privilege of sharing his quarters with him. He--despite kidnapping you and everything-- gave you luxury you didn’t expect, elegant dresses and jewelry from distant planets—learning you regularly needed food and water, made sure you were provided with some, and anything else you could need.

The only things that irked him, was one, despite all these things you still fought—admittedly at times he enjoyed it—it was still no less irking. Then, the fact that you never used the power you had as his top mate to decline the young and impulsive predators who tried to sneak and use you for themselves, knowing that you were taken. He had marked you with his clan mark—damn it, his name for goodness sakes.

Ta’yto found it quite adorable when you muttered angrily in English, thinking he didn’t understand a single word. Sometimes you had a colorful array of names to call him, both in irritation and in pleasure.

“The throne room?” you wondered as you noticed the familiar doors close.

After the short trek up steps, he set you down, only long enough to plop into the sturdy throne and set you on his lap. He sighed, gripping your thigh through the dress.

“I…he didn’t do anything really…” you tried to assure.

At this point, you didn’t necessarily hate him anymore, but you didn’t like him much either.

It was kind of hard to when one minute you’re fighting to the death together only for you to get betrayed and get brutally handled by him.

But he did, he touched what didn’t belong to him.

All he had to say was that ‘She was so tempting. I’m sorry, Prince Ta’yto. I won’t do it again…’

Ta’yto spread his legs, yours following along, before you could even react his rough hand slid under your dress.

“What are you—” your breath hitched as his nails gently grazed against your inner thigh, so close to the warmth between them.

It had been a while since he hand his hand there, after the first time, he’d just preferred to get straight to it.

You whimpered as playful fingers trailed up, his finger moving over the bare, pink, flesh with calculated strokes.

You clenched your thighs to stop it, “Not—Not—”

He simply grunted and spread them open again with his free hand that had been on the armrest.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain the thin amount of dignity you still had, you wouldn’t let him win that easily.

Trying to ignore how much more sensitive your body had become each time he had his way with you.

But you couldn’t stop the drawn-out gasp that left your lips when he finally slid in two of his fingers, providing you with a little relief after the immediate tension he created inside you.

But what you hated, was that your body was excited, because you knew two wouldn’t be enough to prepare for him, he’d have to give you more.

You stiffened when the door opened, the advisor or whatever he was had walked in, but after taking in the situation, he gave a few clicks and turned to leave.

But Ta’yto’s voice stopped him, he said something you didn’t understand, which they nodded to before leaving.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that was about because then he was moving again.

Your brows scrunched as you tried to focus, his guard is lowered, you could possibly attack him. He may be stronger than you, but move quick enough, you could immobilize him.

Your eyes flicked over to the sharpened spike on one of the sides of his foot rest. Thinking of all possible scenarios for a few minutes. But you would have to bend and reach for it, that would be too much time.

“I—can you stop for a second…I…I’m too sensitive…” you attempted.

Not that it worked, of course.

Then the door opened again, it was the Predator from before in chains.

You could feel Ta’yto chuckle behind you, before speaking to the Predator in their language.

“You know. The thing about tempting things, they aren’t attainable to scum like you…The reason I brought you here, is to remind you what’s mine and that you can’t have her. You aren’t permitted to speak or leave until I tell you. Think about this the next time you decide to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned his attention back to you who had turned your head in embarrassment and closed your legs, even though the scum couldn’t see underneath the dress.

He spread your legs again, giving his hand access to move, “This is mine. Only I can touch it like this, you could only ever dream…”

He quickly switched from a tame pace to a rough rhythmic one, making you gasp and let your head fall into his chest.

“Didn’t you touch her here?” he gripped your chin that had been touched before, forcing you to look at the chained Predator, as he added another finger, “Well, I’m reclaiming it.”

This should’ve still been embarrassing to you, but it so, so, erotic, so…so strangely powerful all you could do was tighten around his fingers.

You gripped his arm tight, “Please, it’s too much, not—not yet—hah…”

You found your hips moving to meet his fingers, desperate for the soon coming release.

“And every other place your slimy hands touched her... She doesn’t smell like me as strongly anymore…that needs to change.”

Your nails dug into his bicep, not that he felt it much.

He likes that his research on female humans and what brings pleasure was put to good use with you.

Speaking of…should he try that new thing he learned about yesterday? Well, since he has an audience, he might as well give a show.

In the same motion he tore off your dress, your places were switched, your bare body sitting on the throne while he stood, towering over you, before kneeling down.

Which confused you, considering he was the royal one and you were not.

But you were totally clueless to the fact that this Yautja was so addicted he had no problem doing so at any time.

With another quick move, he gripped your legs and tugged you forward, it was so sudden, you had to grab the armrests to steady yourself.

“What…what are you..?”

His face was way too close to your nether regions, you could feel his breath, which made you twitch each time.

What was he going to—your eyes widened as you felt a wet muscle brush against you.

What was going on? Was he—? Where did he learn this?

You yelped as the few cautious licks of a forked tongue became ravenous, he gripped your thighs hard as his tongue teased you.

“Ohhhh,” you sighed out, biting your lip to keep quiet.

But that’s not what he wanted, so he slid in the hard muscle.

You gripped the armrests for your life, barely able to hold eye contact with him as he devoured you like a starved man. And the mandibles brushing against your skin made it worse.

You tossed your head back, a desperate moan leaping from your throat, the feeling too good, tears bubble up to your waterline, “Please don’t—Not that—Not there—Please!”

But he doesn’t pause, he just gets impossibly more aggressive.

He wants the tears to fall, that’s what always happens before you break. He wants you to break.

He adds his fingers into the equation again, the minute he does, you’re gripping his head like a lifeline.

The closer you get, the louder you get, which he likes. He likes when that composure you try so hard to keep disappears. Shatters before his very eyes. He keeps his eyes on you, wanting to see the moment when it happens.

And it does, but not in the way he was expecting, your chest hiccups as the tears finally fall and you shake your head, almost like you want to refuse the feeling, but you don’t, not really, he knows that.

“No, no, no, I can’t…no…”

And your hips jerk, you’re no longer able to control them and a water-like substance escapes from you. He quickly gets over the surprise and happily excepts it. This is new and you show no signs of being in pain, more than the usual anyway, so he succeeded, right?

Then your crying is of embarrassment, you hadn’t done that before.

But he doesn’t allow you to wallow in it for long.

Your breath is ragged as your legs shake, but you know he never shows mercy on you.

Definitely not today since he’s showing off how beautiful you are and how well you take him, that he’s got something no one but him can have. No one.

The second thing different about today, he rubs a thumb against your thigh, as if saying good job or good girl.

He doesn’t stay there too long, ready to cleanse his mate of the scum that dared touch her completely.

You whine as he finally sheds off his loincloth, you’re way too sensitive to take him now.

And he knows you’re sensitive. He knows you’re sensitive as he lifts you by your shaky legs to place you on his lap again as he sits on his throne. He knows you’re sensitive as he rubs you against his erection as you face away from him. He knows your sensitive as he moves one hand to the hip that was touched.

But he knows you can handle it, his little pet always handles it.

“Ahhm! Fuck!”

He growls as you suck him in, your body molded into the form his wanted. Now your body so greedily accepts him as compared to before. He fits so perfect, like your body conformed to his shape. You really are just for him.

“She fits me perfectly. So, you see—ngh—you could never satisfy her anyway, you peasant.”

You barely have time to settle before he’s pounding away.

“Sense—sensetiv—!”

Haven’t you learned by now that he doesn’t really care?

You’re just his little pet—

Well, Ta’yto supposed that wasn’t true anymore.

You were more than a pet—although you were still a pet, his little pet—

You were more than that…his true mate—no…his princess.

Maybe he should marry you.

Would that be strange? He might be looked at weirdly since it wasn’t a thing for his race.

But if he got to pound into this every day, this hot, tight, warm—

Anyway, you were the best mate he’s had…you were fit for royalty both figuratively and literally you fit him into you like he was meant to fill you whenever.

Speaking of filling, you’d look absolutely ravishing with a little bump, at this point he genuinely wanted it.

He’d have to do his best to be gentle no matter how arousing the sight would be. He wouldn’t be able to not fuck you, so at the very least he’d just be gentle and still be able to feel you around him like a vice as you held his child.

The thought of impregnating you gave him a whole new burst of energy.

His little princess having his little baby.

Maybe more than one, how many babies could a human have without dying?

He wanted that many.

“Too much—Too-too much! Please, I—I can’t” you sobbed turning your head into his side.

Little princess, don’t you know your tears only spur him on? He likes when you cry.

He grips the inside of your knee a little more, ramming into you. Wanting to unsure he fills you with strong seed, strong enough to give him children.

You spasm around him as you release again, the feeling so intense it’s hard to stay conscious as you settle.

But his pace barely slows, despite the tightness, and only speeds up again once you finish.

You beg, “Please…I'm done...I...”

Your head collapses onto his chest as darkness takes over you.

And he doesn’t stop, no, not until he spills every drop into you.

"The thing is princess, I decide when you're done."

And a month later he got what he wanted, a cute little bump, his little princess.

And oh, how he wished he could ravish you how he wanted…but he’d have to wait for that.

[arodabi]

okay, i’m finally getting around to writing this, and uhh ill say its for aro week too. this is written as an aro person directed at alloromantic people. when i refer to writing, i’m kind of using it as a general term for creative works. Here’s me throwing my hat in on the question:

Can you ship aromantic characters?

and my answer is,,,,, actually a question. Why do you want to ship aromantic characters? 

I want alloros to realize that for a lot of aros, we do not get to see ourselves represented often. I can actually count on like one hand how many popular canon aro characters there are, and on the whole, none of their identities are respected. people constantly try to weasel their way out of actually writing aro characters, or they just ignore or deny their identity outright. fandom spaces (hell creative spaces in general) are at best not welcoming to aros, and at worst actively hostile towards us. So when the first question brought up when a character gets canonically confirmed as aro is “okay cool but can i ship them???” or “that’s nice but how can i still write about my fave ship that involves them??” i want to fucking scream. its a slap to the face and it shows that people really do not give a shit about aros. you say stuff like that and all i hear is “my fictional ship is so much more important than representing your marginalized minority identity” so instead of me just sitting here and saying “yes you can totally ship aro characters, as long as you’re respectful!!!” i’m saying “can you stop and think why you want to shove an aro character into a romantic relationship at the first chance you get?? maybe you have some arophobia you haven’t worked on?? maybe since we live in an amatonormative world, you’re letting that influence your views??” because that question being the first thing out of your mouth when you see a character you like confirmed as aro? that’s already disrespectful towards aros in my book.

So back to my question, Why do you want to ship aromantic characters? is it because you can’t write characters without them being in romantic relationships? or because you think a character without a romantic relationship is boring? Because if so, that’s a bad reason and it sounds like amatonormativity is rotting your brain. 

Is it because you just really like a ship with the aro character? Because you can write two characters with a strong relationship without writing them as a couple. A strong friendship can hold just as much power as a romantic relationship.

Is it because fuck aros, i will write what I wanna write and I don't wanna write this character with their canon identity? because then you’re just an arophobic asshole that needs to work on your shitty opinions. aro representation is just as important as any other lgbtqia+ representation.

Now if you’re reading this and thinking “well i heard aros can be in queerplatonic relationships!” I want you to think for a second. Are you writing a qpr or are you writing a romantic relationship with the serial numbers filed off? Have you talked to aro people or read stuff actually written by us? because, yes, some qprs can look a lot like a romantic relationship from the outside, but that’s just it, you’re looking at it from the outside. qprs are more than just “romantic relationship with extra steps”, and i think it’s really telling how many times i see alloromantic people saying they’re depicting an aro character in a qpr, not a romantic relationship, but then they never ever make any effort to distinguish the qpr from any other romantic relationship they write or draw. It just feels like qprs are getting used by alloros as a gatcha any time an aro person objects to how they depict (or don’t depict) aromanticism. if you want to write a character in a qpr then go for it! but you need to actually do research, talk to aros, get multiple opinions and not just take the first opinion that agrees with you and run with it.

“But what about headcanoning a character as arospec?” now i will say before i go into this, i am aro, not arospec, so if an arospec person wants to come in and correct me at any part here im happy to listen. but my problem when alloros bring up arospec identities is a very similar problem to how qprs are often depicted. I remember when Peridot Stevenuniverse got confirmed aro (she did, do not argue this with me) people were jumping over themselves to assure everyone that “a character getting confirmed as aro just means they are any arospec identity” which,, uhh,, not true? i mean if an arospec person wants to see a canon aro character as, say, aroflux, i’ve got no problem, aro and arospec people can do what they want really. but, i do have a problem with all the alloro fans who were spreading this. because, do you really see the character as demiromantic? or are you using that identity to deflect criticism from erasing aro identities? are you actually trying to write a good depiction of a demiro person? or are you just writing normal ship stuff and slapping a “uwu ive never felt romantic attraction until i met you! and now i will act exactly like any alloromantic person!” at the beginning? being in fandom spaces, i do see the occasional fic actually depicting an aspec identity (i say aspec her because aro is so rare that most of these examples i’ve seen have been acespec identities rather than arospec) but like 99% of the time, that’s written by someone who actually shares the identity. before you use our terms and identities to cover your ass when you erase us, consider not fucking doing that. consider listening to all aros and getting our thoughts and input. 

And last here is “but what about romance positive aros?” now i think most of what i’ve said previously can be applied here. the only thing i wanna add is, i think its very interesting that almost every time i see non aros depict aros, they always write them as very into romance, very open to be in romantic relationships, and very quiet about their aro identity. despite the character in canon not showing any of these traits. romance positive aros are good and important, but not every aro is romance positive. there’s quite a few of us that are romance repulsed, and alloros only depicting aros as super romance positive no matter what is suspicious to say the least. if an aro character is shown to be open to participating in romantic activities in canon then of course write them that way. but if an aro character is shown to be uninterested in, or even actively against romantic activities then respect that too.

so, to wrap up my thoughts in this ramble: please ask yourself why you want to ship aro characters so bad, because if the only reason is that amatonormativity has brainwashed you into not being able to write, or draw, or do anything with a character without them being in a romantic relationship, then you uhhh need to work on that, that’s honestly a writing/creative flaw imo. if you like the relationship dynamic between an aro character and another character, consider making them friends. friendship is not less powerful than romantic relationships. nobody is ever too old for the power of friendship trope. If you’re erasing an aro character’s identity because fuck aros, then fuck off somewhere far away from me and work on your bullshit. qprs, arospec identities, and romance positive aros are all very real, very important parts of the aro community, but please talk to other aros about them and actually make an effort to understand how these things work, dont just assume. And also don’t use these things as a way to erase aro identities and cover your ass if get called out. its disrespectful towards all aros.

The most important thing to do before writing or creating work with aro characters is to talk to aros, and not just the aros that agree with you. look up what a qpr actually is, learn how aros experience their arospec identities, talk to aros with multiple outlooks on romance. and if you can’t bring yourself to reach out, at least read through our own writings, whether that’s fiction, or informational posts, fuck, look through our memes if u wanna. Just please actually make an effort.

So, Can you ship aro characters? its complicated. look at trends in your fandom, question why you want to, and do research. Be an aro ally, listen to us. That’s really the most important thing.