#there were other things i did while unmedicated that helped

[zapsoda]

worst part about my anxiety is that even though it is currently under control i cant give any advice for it . the reason my anxiety is under control is because i got put on meds for it. not very helpful for people who are not or cant get on meds

[thecapricunt1616]

Daddy!Carmy at his 2nds birth

Call me cringe but fuck it !!!!!

Let’s talk Carmy during an unmedicated birth. Holy shit. He would be… scared. Like. Seeing his girl in such pain would lowkey make him woozy that he couldn’t help. Fr while you were groaning through contractions ofc he would be holding your hand but…(more BTC)

Really as soon as you get to the hospital, bc let’s be real who wants to be there before they’re a minute apart and you’re literally crowning? And ofc by that stage since you waited for so long - there’s no such thing as an epidural so Carmen would be shaking with nerves bc he knows you’ve been grunting and nearly screaming in pain all night and he knows labor only gets worse he’d be mentally buckling In.

You’d call Pete and Nat (or Syd, let’s be real) to watch your first so you could go to the hospital. By the time you’d get there and your doula met you, and told you you were 9 dilated and she just had to break your water and you’d probably be pushing within 30 minutes you were elated considering your first, much like Carmy was a long, intense, and most of all exhausting labor that lasted over 48 hours - so the way this one was ready to head out in less then 24 had you more than pleased.

By the time you really had the urge to push he would be standing at your side knowing the time from your first delivery. The second you told him you “felt scared” he would be at your side, holding your leg and dipping a washcloth in cold water, dabbing it on your forehead and reminding you of how the last time you “weren’t sure you could do it” you delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy with no problems and that he was waiting at home so excited to become a big brother.

“Shut up. I can’t. I can’t Carmen it’s too hard -“ you groaned, gripping the bedside so hard your knuckles went white and you felt like the noise you let out was something akin to an angry grizzly bear as another contraction washed over your back and stomach. You looked at him, eyes narrowing “you fucking did this to me! Fuck you!” You growled, shifting uncomfortably if you could even call it that.

“That’s normal” one of the nurses that was holding your other leg said and you shot her a glare, quickly losing all other feeling as the overwhelming urge to push washed over you. It didn’t matter how bad it hurt or how hard it was, push was the only thought you had. You were nearly screaming in effort and Carmy was looking at you like he was about to pass out in fear and your doula patted one of the nurses to tap you out and told her it was time for a break and for you to change positions because your back was clearly doing no good.

At this time Carmy would rest his forehead on yours, stroking your cheek lovingly and would whisper “y’doin so good, baby. So good, angel. Princess is jus’givin us a hard time, huh? She’s stubborn like her dad yea?” He joked, earning the smallest smile from you.

“I-i think” you sniffled back your tears “I think- on my knees- maybe? That helped with little dude” he stroked your single tear away with the back of his forefinger.

“That’s a great idea, Angel. Always know what to do, want me to help you?” He asked gently and your lip quivers

“I’m scared” you whisper, tears pooling over your lash line.

“Oh- Angel” he said gently, stroking your tears away “you know there’s nothing to be afraid of, mm? Y’body did amazing the last time- that’s just fear talkin’, your beautiful perfect body delivered baby cub with no issues, so she’s gonna be the same” he carefully stroked your sore belly.

You sniffled, pouting for a moment before asking the nurses for help putting the bars down on Carmys side so he could support you like last time while you sat on your knees. Two stray tears fell from Carmys eyes and he squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

He helped you through another exhausting contraction before helping you ease on your knees and gently rubbing your back as you rocked back and forth groaning through another contraction when the last was less then a minute before.

“Good girl- good breathing baby,” he kissed your shoulder, feeding you more ice chips when you huffed your mouth felt dry again.

“Gotta push- gotta- h-hold my hand” you squeaked, clutching Carmys hand for dear life as you pushed harder then you thought was possible, grunting all the way through and you were honestly suprised when you heard the nurse say

“C’mon dad! Baby’s nearly out come catch her- momma one more big push you can do it -“

And with one more deep breath and a big growl you heard Carmy gasp and your baby start to cry before the nurse said

“Congratulations! It is absolutely still a girl- momma hold on just one more second I’m cutting the cord here and daddy will go ahead and put baby on your chest” you sobbed yourself hearing your little girl cry, falling to your hip as soon as the nurse said it was ok and rolling on your back, unclipping your nursing delivery gown to see Carmy was crying just as hard as you were

“Give her - give her oh my god, hi princess” you cried as Carmy laid her on your chest, kissing her cheeks and forehead as she wailed. “She’s so beautiful-“ you cried, head falling to the pillow in exhaustion

“She’s perfect, she’s amazing princess- look at her her lungs are so strong” he kissed your forehead before hers “strong just like her mama” he sniffled, stroking her cheek as you settled her on your breast to eat.

“I love you, thank you. Thank you for giving me her” you whispered, resting your tired forehead against his shoulder.

He chuckled a bit, kissing your temple “are you kidding? It’s me who should be thanking you for the rest of my life”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being semi-close to someone a lot younger than me?

This is something I've been worried about for a while, but it's become more prominent lately after me seeing several people say it's inherently creepy for an adult (or even just way older person) to be interacting with a child. And I really don't want to be like that, I don't want to hurt a kid ever, especially since I know what it's like to be groomed myself.

So I (18F) have known this kid (13) for about 3 years now. They reached out to me online because of similar interests- mainly in games and in YouTube channels, and we bonded a lot over that. They didn't have their age in their bio so I didn't immediately know their age, but I did find out a few months in.

Over the course of when we've known each other I've been as careful as I can to be age appropriate. I never bring up anything sexual for obvious reasons (the only time it ever came up was them asking what a sexual term meant, which made me very uncomfortable and I tried to change the subject... to which they started repeatedly inappropriately using the word. They ended up looking up the definition and where horrified. Even that conversation makes me feel wrong).

I also make sure to not put any of my personal issues on them. I couldn't always hide when I was upset- both because for the first year of us knowing each other I had unmedicated ADHD that made my mood swing a lot, and for the past 2 1/2 years or so I've been in a very toxic relationship that I still don't know how to get out of and quite frankly, am scared to get out of because I don't know how they'll react if I do actually leave them. Do to this, there's been times they could tell something was off and would ask me what's wrong. I avoided telling them as much as possible, just giving them something vague and reminding them that it's not their responsibility to help me, because they would always try to help cheer me up, and even that didn't feel right because they're a kid. They should be focusing on themself, not me. The worst of this though, is there was a time I was struggling heavilly with suicidal thoughts. I was planning to attempt, and sent out a vague "goodbye" type message, trying not to make it too obvious what was happening. They caught on though. They weren't the one who helped me calm down from that but I still know how awful it is to be sitting there, scared you're going to loose someone important to you. Especially for a kid. I've apologized for that happening many times, and it hasn't repeated, but every time they just go "It's fine, you were a struggling kid too back then" as if that makes that okay. It doesn't feel right.

Throughout the 3 years we've known each other, I've also tried to help out where I can with several issues they've had. Which was pretty much just me giving advice for how to handle difficult situations where I felt I could, and offering comfort and reassurance where I couldn't. Among other things, I helped them recognize several instances where other people they met online where intentionally trying to groom them. I explained to them that it wasn't normal for someone my age to want to be with them/find them attractive, because there where several instances of them telling me of 15/16 year olds getting with them. That no responsible person my age would be doing that to them, and that it wasn't okay for them to do that.

Because of the help I've given them, I notice they look up to me quite a lot. They have told me they see me as a role model and "the best person they know" (I can guarantee I'm not, and have tried to get them to not see me that highly because that seems unhealthy). They even see me as a sort of parental figure, including calling me parental-like names. That by itself I don't mind too much, I know they had a terrible home-life and didn't feel they could actually look up to their real life parents. So if I am giving them something I think every child deserves to have (a parental role model they can look up to), I'm glad. I just worry I'm not as good a role model for that as they think I am, and that I'm a creep, just like the ones I have gotten away from them in the past. I do care about them a lot, and do see them in that sort of familial way, and I want to protect them and help them have a better life, because I know they have struggled a lot and if I am able to help them, I want to. But I'm worried I'm causing the same harm that has been caused to me, and that others have tried to/have caused to them in the past without even realizing what I'm doing wrong. I don't want to be like those creepy assholes.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I was thinking about the "kid version" Color has, and that got me wondering about how a mini version of Killer would be like as well

So i'm here to ask how do you think a little Killer would be like 🔥

If we’re going with those turns back to how they were, probably however Sans was like as a kid. But if we’re going as like, Killer as a kid, probably those types of kids that never got to be a kid.

Had to grow up too fast, parentified, grew up knowing no one would look after him, take care of him, protect him, or meet his needs but himself. Probably as if he was treated more like an object than a kid, as if he had very intrusive and controlling caretakers and wasn’t entitled to privacy or boundaries.

Probably like the type that got into a lot of trouble with the law (such as stealing food drinks or clothes), or into fights with other kids, spent his childhood in and out of mental institutions, wildlife places (forgot what they were called), or in juvie.

The type of “problem child” at school that’s actually an apparently well-behaved and “perfect” child at home. Probably used to try his best at school, but started suffering from burnout and dissociation and unmedicated ADHD eventually.

Type of kid that’s clearly ill and traumatized and in need of help and support, but never asks for any help and is always well behaved at home and never tells anybody what’s happening at home—a very convincing liar and good at pretending to be okay.

That type of kid that had CPS frequently called to his home and nurses and doctors know him well—but he refuses to tell anyone anything, has managed to convince many that everything was fine for a long while there.

He often seems very absent and not present, frequent meltdowns and panic attacks, and probably been triggered into Stage 3 and reacted defensively, disoriented and confused when he “calms down” as others would describe it. A kid deeply distrustful and scared of the world around him, and often escaping somewhere inside to avoid having to face reality or lashing out.

The type of kid that runs away from home and is found wandering around the streets as if confused, but more often then not lies about why he did or where he was planning to go— perhaps he himself can’t explain why he was running away, if there’s nothing wrong at home. Probably the type of kid whose eyes seem like they stare through everyone at something else.

The type of kid that classmates, teachers, and cafeteria crew notice how thin he is and worry he doesn’t get enough at home—so some try to share their lunch and breakfast with him, or give him free food or leftovers.

Many won’t know there’s anything wrong at all, because he’s good at pretending, and will hide whatever signs of “weakness” or “vulnerability” possible.

He’d probably have a small group of friends but wouldn’t get too overly emotionally attached genuinely, even if he behaves and adapts to those around him (Stage 2.)

People may see him as a witty and clever kid, but an underachiever who doesn’t care too much about school and appears disinterested in most things—in contrast to Stage 1 who wants to please and be involved and would be devastated by an criticism or rejection, and Stage 4–who’d be rigidly desperate to appease authority figures if ever triggered.

Stage 1 & 4 would probably be the reasons why some would view him as a “good kid” or “obedient” or “teachers pet,” whereas Stage 2 and 3 are where the “troubled kid” rep comes from—even if Stage 2 is good at lying and pretending and Stage 3 is only ever behaving that way due to being triggered and provoked.

And given how little Color was described before, these two probably met in detention but for very different reasons lmao. Killer’s there because he stabbed some kid and Color’s there because he was blamed for something someone else did.

Or because he told a kid their fit was ugly after the kid asked for his honest opinion. It’s a 50/50 on if Color’s gonna be a good influence on Killer, or if Killer will be a bad influence on Color, is what everyone thinks.

[sadlittleratboy]

People don't like hearing this but as much as "mental health is not your fault, but it is your responsibility" is true and should be considered, it's also a way of thinking that can cause a lot of damage.

I'm a qualified mental health professional, and I'm also mentally ill myself. Sometimes, I would even say most often, people expect a level of responsibility that just isn't feasible. When you're manic you are out of control. People with DID can't control their switching or alters. People with psychosis cannot control hallucinations and delusions.

We'll get on meds, you say. You aren't exactly wrong, but do you realize how easy it is for people to fall through the cracks? Mental illness can look like drug use (and can come along with drug use and be dismissed for that reason). Healthcare can be expensive and not available to everyone, but most importantly, many people in deep mental illness believe they're fine. They think they don't need meds, or aren't mentally ill. The whole thing about delusions is that YOU BELIEVE THEM.

Imagine this. Someone tells you that an inherent part of your reality is not the same as 99% of the population's reality. This is just as real and inherent to you as the color of the sky or the way gravity works. A client once explained to me the first time they saw the angels they believed sent them radio signals. This was my client's baseline, but we'll get to that idea later. The details were vivid, like they were describing a nature walk. It was so real, because to them it was. It happened. They saw it. They felt it. If I were in that position, I would have believed it too. How do you challenge that? It's hard. People don't understand and they give up.

Now, back to baseline. A person's baseline is how they function when they are "well". Baseline is your peak performance. For most people, the baseline is to not be mentally ill, and this is the baseline a lot of people strive to achieve. What people don't get is that sometimes your baseline is not the average, your most well is considered faulty. My mania makes me out of control, but medicated my baseline is asymptomatic. I have a coworker whose baseline still involves symptoms, but they're manageable! Often times when treating a mental health condition the doctor's goal is as close to the average baseline as one can get, and for some people as close as they can get is still pretty fucking far. My client changed meds several times, but they never stopped believing in the angels or getting the transmissions. There was symptom improvement on some meds, their baseline was not the same as being unmedicated, but delusions and hallucinations were their normal. I had a client that believed they were the queen of Scotland. Fully medicated, happy as a clam, they would tell me every week that their rich uncle was coming to pick them up this week and take them back to Scotland. We live in bumfuck West Texas US of A. Those clients never stopped being delusional, we just found long term safe and happy solutions for them.

So yes. Mental illness is often your responsibility, but responsibility does not always look like the perfect conflict free ideal. It was my responsibility to apologize for my manic behavior, but I couldn't do that while manic. I couldn't control my rage or my impulses. I was being responsible and seeking help, but that takes time. The only way I could be responsible was to apologize a full month later when I was depressed. Luckily the people in my life were understanding. I put them through hell for sure, but the occasional hell I put them through was nothing like the hell I lived in. Many people take responsibility through apology and explanation because that's all they have.

And for when someone is genuinely incapable of changing, when they cannot comprehend that there is responsibility to take, their mental illness becomes OUR responsibility. We cannot function as a society if we don't take care of each other. You cannot ask somebody permanently wheelchair bound to stand up. You can't ask somebody whose blind to describe the scenery. You can't expect someone with a severe mental illness to not affect the world around them with their symptoms. It's not easy and it's not fair, and the burden should be on the system much more than us as individuals (and yes, the system is broken, some people cannot and will not get the help and care necessary), but empathy and understanding go a long way in this world.

Mental illness is never their fault, and empathy is our responsibility, and before you start in about the parent or friend or ex that used their depression or whatever to manipulate and abuse you, refusing meds or help and the like, this is not about that. You need to be open to the nuance of the world. People need to take responsibility for their actions to the best of their abilities, but sometimes there is no ability to get the best of. These two things can exist at the same time, and they MUST exist at the same time for society to function.

[offsidekineticist]

Ohhhh this took forever, and it was genuinely painful to write at times, but I did it. Mind the CWs, this chapter is less "fantasy action and True Love's Kiss" and more "watching a loved one struggle to adjust to a new disability really fucking sucks, doesn't it?" Although those who have played the Hell's Rebels AP will probably have fun with the references.

CW: debilitating chronic pain, medical gore/hypothetical body horror, rationing of medication, doctors one after the other saying they can't help, implied suicidal ideation, looming possibility of unmedicated chronic pain, loss of religious support, subversion of due process, toxic family dynamic, mentions of bookburning and purges, and the desecration of remains and exploitation of tragedies for the entertainment of the Public

Excellent Work

You wake to the sound of pained hisses and groans and whimpers, almost as exhausted you were when you went to sleep. You slip out of the oversized bed and walk to the other side. Theo is burrowed into Giliys's chest, arms crossed over his own chest with his eyes squeezed shut, tears sliding down his face. Giliys, wide awake, is cradling Theo's head in his arms. He glares at you.

"Is the pain bad enough now?" Giliys demands accusingly. You ignore him as you retrieve the bottle of flayleaf extract. Theo was doing better earlier. You had thought he'd be alright until morning, but the chill of the night must have brought the pain back with a vengeance. You measure out an amount you hope will be enough to let Theo go back to sleep–or start sleeping, if he never fell asleep in the first place.

"Theo, can you hear me?" you ask, holding the spoon of flayleaf extract in your hand. He nods with a whimper. "Alright, I have some medicine to help with the pain. Open your mouth?"

He obeys, keeping his eyes shut, and you bring the spoon to his mouth. He swallows the extract, and you take back the spoon. It takes a few minutes, but the sounds of pain gradually become less frequent, and then stop altogether as the exhaustion puts Theo to sleep.

"I told you, you don't have to ration it. If they won't believe you're a healer, I can get more," Giliys hisses.

"The last thing we need is one of us getting arrested for drug smuggling," you snap. "And I don't trust the quality you'd be getting, either. We need to make it last until I can find a healer who can fix his hands."

"If you haven't found one yet, you're not going to find one without heading to Absalom. You need to figure out a way to get him regular meds–he can't live like this."

You take a deep breath to avoid snapping. You know this isn't tenable. You're a goddamned healer, of course you know Theo can't live like this. But you're already doing the best you can. It's been a month, and the best you've been able to do for his hands is immobilize them in crude splints made of bandages and tongue depressors. Your healing magic is useless because his bones have been crushed to the point that you can't set them without surgery, and you can't use healing magic on bones that haven't been set right because that's how you get bony growths piercing through skin and creating a constant infection risk. You've tried to find a healer who can help him–almost every day since he's been strong enough to walk, you've dragged Theo up to Temple Hill, going from temple to temple looking for help. It always ends the same way: another healer, face drained of color, apologetically explaining this is beyond their ability to heal while you carefully re-splint Theo's exposed fingers and pretend not to notice his tears.

Giliys is right, though. Theo's pain is too intense for you to manage while also rationing your remaining supply of medicine. You keep overestimating how much he can go without so you keep having to give him even larger doses to bring his pain back under control. It's become a vicious cycle that's depleting your supply far more quickly than you expected. Something needs to be done.

"I'll contact the church," you finally say. "If I can get the priests to vouch for me, I can get the credentials I need to order more medicine legally. Then it will just be a matter of finding the money."

Giliys gives you a disbelieving stare. "It can't be that easy. You'd have done it by now if it was that easy."

"I was prioritizing finding a permanent solution so we could use our money on the permanent solution, but since that solution seems farther away than expected, I am reprioritizing."

"They're gonna be pissed at you, aren't they?" Giliys asks, eyes widening in realization. "Shit, Qweck–you don't have to go back to them, I'll figure something out–"

"I'm a cleric, not a slave," you snap, too exhausted to deal with Giliys conflating accountability with abuse yet again. "I won't be flogged for returning after an…error of judgment."

His expression closes off at that. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, princess. I'm gonna get some sleep." He closes his eyes, and you get the feeling he would have rolled over to face away from you if he could move without disturbing Theo.

You return to your side of the bed, but you don't sleep. You haven't just been avoiding this because of priorities. You aren't a slave and you won't be flogged, but that doesn't mean reporting to your former colleagues after abandoning your duties to commit a novel's worth of crimes will be pleasant. Especially not when you need something from them. 

You lay awake through the telltale signs of morning–first the moonlight disappears, then you hear the sound of dockworkers leaving their homes to go to work. Then you hear children giggling on their way to school. It is only after you hear the shouts of the newscryer that you see sunlight peeking through the windows. The sun rises late in Kintargo–it takes time to rise past the peaks of the Menador Mountains. You still aren't used to it.

You don't stir until Theo does. You're too afraid of waking him, given how little he sleeps these days. You would guess it's about an hour after sunrise when his eyes open with a groan. Giliys wakes immediately, and the three of you begin what has become your morning routine. You put on a pair of flowy trousers and then tie a sash around your waist over the chemise you wore to bed before beginning to prepare breakfast while Giliys, still only half-dressed himself, helps Theo get dressed. You were surprised at first to see how adept Giliys is at this task, easily managing Theo's clothes and disarming his pride with unexpectedly earnest assurances of "allow me" and "here, I've got that" and so on.  

"Shave?" Giliys asks as he does every morning. 

"No," Theo says flatly as he does every morning, apparently unbothered by the patchy, scraggly not-quite-a-beard on his face. He used to shave daily, absolutely meticulous about his appearance. You suspect he doesn't trust an assassin to hold a razor blade to his throat. Then again, he won't let you shave him, either.

There's no table or chairs in your apartment, so the three of you sit on the floor to eat the rest of yesterday's leftovers, preserved with the same magic you were taught to preserve corpses. You know there are other spells that can conjure food out of thin air–you ate such food regularly during your days as a novice training at the monastery before your ordination–but you never learned such spells. According to Giliys you never learned to make food without magic, either, though he usually keeps his opinion of your cooking to himself until he's at least tasted the food, which usually isn't until after Theo has finished eating. Theo rarely comments on the food at all. Instead he just gets more irritated as Giliys has to spoon feed him because he can't hold anything with his hands splinted as they are. 

You finish your meal before Giliys is even halfway through spooning the leftover shellfish stew for Theo. You put your empty bowl on the cold stovetop–Giliys will take care of washing the dishes while you're out–and slip on your shoes before offering your farewells and heading out the door. 

Hocum's Phantasmagorium has been abandoned since long before your arrival in the city, apparently created by a man allegedly eager to spread joy and wonder in the wake of the then recently ended Chelish Civil War. You were born too late to have seen that time, but given the dark looks and sullen silence you got whenever you tried to ask Theo about that time as a child, you feel it is safe to assume joy was in short supply in those days.

Whatever the intent of this Mr. Hocum, you can't help but feel the downfall of his business was a boon to the city. Walking through what's left of the exhibits, the degree of misinformation and shameless, voyeuristic exploitation of tragedies (such as the Temple Hill Slasher's murder spree) strikes you as tasteless at best. Let the Opera house and dancehalls bring joy to the city. They do not display the remains of sasquatches - intelligent humanoids - for entertainment.

You idly wonder if there is some way of laying those bones to rest, some family of sasquatches that would be grateful to have their remains returned, as you approach the reason for your trespass in this supposedly abandoned building: a statue of Aroden nestled in a small alcove. The god of prophecies is dead and hears prayers no more, but you are not here to pay tribute. You have to climb up the statue to reach it–this place was built by tallfolk–but on the statue's chest, circled by Azlanti runes, is Araden's holy symbol, the eye of Aroden. Blind as it may be, it still has its uses. You turn the pupil of the eye, pointing it from rune to rune, until you have spelled the name of the Master of Masters whom Aroden once called friend: IRORI.

With a groan of stone scraping stone, the statue moves, and you release your grip on the dead god's arm to leap back to the floor outside the alcove. The statue stops, revealing a spiral staircase to the basement below, and you descend to the only place in Kintargo dedicated to Irori: the Many-Steps Monastery

You had always intended to visit this monastery. Built from the basement of Hocum's museum after it closed, it served as a treasure trove of pre-Thrune art, literature, and history. Its existence was not commonly known in the church of Irori, but Giliys caught wind of it through contacts with the Bellflower Network, so he passed the information onto you. That is how you first came in contact with the Sacred Order of Archivists–the order of Irorian scholars dedicated to preserving Chelish history and culture–a connection that proved fruitful through the years until they suddenly went silent. The only explanation you received was that their sudden silence coincided with "The Night of Ashes" and the late Barzillai Thrune's crackdown on Kintargan dissidents.

If you look closely, you can still see evidence of Thrune's raid–scorch marks on walls, occasional burgundy stains on the floor–but for the most part the place seems ready for scholars to return. Based on the Message you received not long after your arrival in Kintargo, they already have. Or, rather, one has.

You find Corvinius Basad in one of the scholar's cells, standing over an open book laid out on the desk in front of him. He holds his hand, glowing pale blue with divine power, over a book, opened to a section where pages have been torn out. He is older than you remember from your days as novices–the long braid looped around his neck, typical of the Irorian priesthood, is streaked with gray, and his face is now lined from age–but that is to be expected. That was a quarter of a century ago, and humans age so much faster than gnomes.

"Just a moment," Corvinius says, not looking up from the mutilated text before him. Before you can reply, the tattered remains of one of the torn out pages begins to shift and then grow. You stare in awe as the book seems to heal before your very eyes, and a single page, ink and all, is restored.

"How did you do that?" You blurt out as Corvinius straightens and wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. He grins.

"Wonderful, isn't it? A little trick I picked up from a friend. She uses it for somewhat less altruistic purposes, which is likely why it can only be used to restore a single page at a time." He grimaces. "It's slow going, but the alternative is to allow what the Asmodeans destroyed to be lost forever. In any case, it is good to see you again, Sister." He bows his head slightly in greeting, and you return the gesture with some embarrassment.

"And you as well, Brother. Forgive my rudeness–I did not expect to see a miracle performed today."

Corvinius snorts. "I heal books one page at a time, sister. You heal bodies with a single spell. Which of us is the miracle worker?"

You nod politely, trying to keep the flare of guilt from your face. You wouldn't be here if you were a miracle worker. 

"I am, nonetheless, glad you are so intrigued," Corvinius continues, sitting down at the desk and, with loving care, gently setting aside the book he was repairing. "Because this work is why I contacted you."

That surprises you. You had assumed that Corvinius, as the nearest representative of the Church, had been tasked with convening a hearing that would determine the severity of your Censure for abandoning your post, and you tell him as much. Corvinius seems surprised, and then strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"Of course–I had assumed news would have reached you, but in retrospect, things being as they are–" he pulls himself from his thoughts and meets your gaze. "An emergency hearing was held without you. Very irregular, but, under the circumstances, politically necessary."

"Politically necessary," you repeat.

"Well, yes. Thrune wipes out an lrorian order for hoarding banned books, and just over a year later an Irorian priest rampages through a hellknight citadel to rescue a dissident also accused of hoarding banned books? The church in Cheliax has been walking a tightrope for years now. They can't be associated with the most wanted woman in Cheliax."

A yawning void opens in the pit of your stomach. There's only one way the church could avoid being associated with one of its priests. "I've been excommunicated, haven't l?" 

To be excommunicated is a priest's worst nightmare. It is to be barred from participating in church life or holy rituals, no longer entitled to the support or assistance of the church. It is a punishment reserved for those who have committed unrepentant anathema against their god, usually only enacted after Irori himself has expressed his rejection by taking back their divine powers or cursing them for their blasphemy. It is a punishment always handed down by a council of elders after lengthy deliberation that always includes the testimony of the accused. To excommunicate someone in absentia when they have neither committed anathema nor been subject to divine punishment would be a travesty–it should not happen.

And yet, even before Corvinius answers, you know that it has, and you understand why. 

In a gesture far too nonchalant for the situation, Corvinius holds up his hand and wiggles it in a "so-so" type motion.

"You've been excommunicated in Cheliax. I doubt anyone outside Cheliax will care, assuming lrori hasn't taken back his power–he hasn't, has he?"

"No, of course not!" you say, momentarily losing your composure at the mere idea that you would commit a sin egregious enough that Irori himself would take notice.

"There you go. And, for the time being at least, Kintargo is not in Cheliax. So when l ask if you would be willing to join me in rebuilding the Sacred Order and its collection, I am a servant of Irori requesting assistance from a fellow servant of lrori."

Still reeling from your excommunication, it takes a moment to process what is being asked of you–long enough that Corvinius continues. "Ultimately I'd like to renovate the building above so the entire complex can be a temple. True, it's not Temple Hill, but I personally see that as a boon. We will be accessible to those who need us most. That's all in the future, of course–until we know we are safe here, we'll continue to keep the order and the monastery secret. We can't risk the church being associated with even more dissident activity. For now the most pressing matter–"

"You realized I abandoned my flock, yes?" you interrupt. "Politics or no, I should be censured for my actions."

Corvinius shrugs. "I am less inclined to judge you for that. There were extenuating circumstances. And even if there weren't…I am attempting to restore an entire library of damaged books one page at a time. I need help. And, given the circumstances of your alleged excommunication, I thought you and your compatriots might be interested in our work. Or at least in a place to stay rent-free in exchange for fixing books."

You can feel the blood drain out of your face at the thought of that. You can't ask that of Theo–he's too lost, too fragile. He won't see the danger, won't see how precarious Ravounel's independence is, how easily history could repeat itself. You can still see him as he was when you found him, emaciated and exhausted, body battered and wounded and covered with dried blood and filth, hands mangled and crushed and the haunted look in his eyes–

"Absolutely not," you say with more vehemence than you intend. "I'm not here so you can draft my f–my friend into a doomed secret society when he can't even turn a page on his own." 

Corvinius's eyes widen in surprise. "Obviously it would be his choice, I have no intention of-"

"No. He's not–they had him for weeks, do you understand? Do you have any idea what that does to a person? What they do to people? He can't go through that again. It would destroy him."

"May I ask–no, nevermind."

He backtracks quickly, and so you are intrigued. "Ask what?"

"Nothing–the question would have been inappropriate."

You squint at him warily. "Now I have to know what it was."

"I don't–"

"Just ask the goddamned question, Corv!"

Corvinius sighs. "Fine. I wanted to ask who are you trying to protect? Him or yourself?"

Rage blooms in your chest. How dare he? "I gave up everything to save Theo, and you have the gall to question whether I'm trying to protect him?" 

"I only meant–"

"No. Nuh-uh. Stop. I don't give a fuck what you meant. The answer is no. I'm not here to let you prey on my father when he's too weak to stand up for himself, I'm here to get a representative of the Church of lrori to vouch for my credentials so I can get him the meds he needs for his life not to feel like a tribute to Zon-Kuthon. Now can you do that?"

He looks almost regretful. "The Church of Irori can't officially be in Kintargo until the situation has stabilized–it could put all of our brethren at–" 

"Yes or no, Corv?"

"No. But I–"

"Fine. Thanks for nothing."

You think you hear him calling after you as you storm out, but you're not inclined to listen. You're fuming the whole way up the spiral steps and back through the tacky so-called museum. How dare he try to take advantage of your situation? How dare he try to recruit you immediately after revealing your excommunication? How dare he reveal that and then dismiss it as nothing?

The most galling part is that if he hadn't been so slimy about it, you would probably have agreed–not to recruiting Theo, of course, but to joining him yourself. It's not as if you hate the idea. You were close as novices, and though you've both changed, it would have been nice to have the chance to catch up. And while you'd hate spending your days casting the same spell over and over, spending days restoring a single book, you believe in the cause, and you're willing to endure tedium for the sake of your beliefs.

But dragging Theo into it? When you're still not certain Ravounel will be able to maintain its independence, and Corvinius is rebuilding the order in the same place Thrune already raided? Theo is already so broken from what happened in Rivad, and Corvinius has the gall to ask more of him? You should be planning your escape in case Ravounel is reoccupied, not joining a secret society that has already died once! 

Still furious, you return to the apartment to find Theo and Giliys in their usual places. Theoven sits cross-legged on the oversized bed, slouched forward to read a book laid flat in front of him, Giliys sitting beside him, dutifully turning pages at his signal. Giliys turns at the sound of the door opening and gives you a perfunctory nod. To your surprise, Theo looks up from his reading at the sound of your entry. 

"Welcome back," Theo says, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end because it's the most like himself he's seemed in weeks, but it's so unfamiliar to you now that it feels like a trick. "Giliys said you were going to speak to the Irorians about your credentials," he continues, and you relax slightly–the other shoe has dropped. “How did it go?"

"The Church of lrori does not have an official presence in Kintargo, and it will not until Ravounel's independence is more secure," you recite. Theo does not let his emotions show on his face, but it's not hard to guess his thoughts on the matter. 

"And unofficially?"

You shouldn't be so transparent to those outside the church, especially someone with such a big target on his back, but, truthfully, you're beyond caring. If Theo is going to have to resort to Giliys's black market contacts to manage his pain, he deserves to know why. "Unofficially they're setting up a monastery at the headquarters of a lost Irorian order."

"The Sacred Order of Archivists?" Theoven asks, and you have to stop yourself from gaping.

"How do you know about them?"

"Giliys mentioned them, years ago."

You roll your eyes with a sigh. "Of course he did." It's a silly thing to be upset about at this point, but it still galls you just how blatantly Giliys ignored your admonitions to leave your family out of your resistance work.  

"The guy already had more illegal books than I'd seen in the rest of my life fucking combined," Giliys explains defensively. "I just thought he might want to–"

"You knew about the books?" you interrupt. Giliys freezes for a second before doing his best to feign nonchalance.

"I mean, I didn't know just how fucking many he had. He just kept trying to lend them to me before he figured out I couldn't fucking read–"

"When you destroyed one of them," Theo says, and you can tell his patience is beginning to fray. Giliys slouches slightly.

"I said I was sorry," he says with a meekness that seems wrong coming from him.

"Sorry doesn't bring back priceless artifacts of pre-Thrune Chelaxian culture," Theo observes, the claws beginning to come out.

"But you found out–it was an accident?" you interrupt, because you need to know and the conversation is going to die with the last of Theo's patience. "Like you went through his bag when he wasn't looking or–or something?"

Giliys looks uncomfortable now. "No, he, uh, he just loaned me a book and said to be careful cuz it was very rare and also incredibly fucking illegal."

You don't know what to say to that. Theo had never even hinted to you that he owned anything untoward, but he just handed the evidence of a potentially capital crime to an assassin because he thought he'd enjoy some light reading?

Clearing his throat, Giliys starts again. "So, uh, yeah, I thought he might be interested in getting in touch with the order, but he said you'd get more use out of that, so–"

"You told him first?!" 

"I am sitting right here, if you would like to lodge a complaint," Theo says, crossing his arms, an unusual edge to his voice. "Not that you have much of a leg to stand on, given how adamant you were that I never find out about your resistance work."

You don't physically flinch, but your insides recoil at the accusation. "I was trying to protect you."

"Yes, excellent work on that, by the way."

There is something inside you–something steadfast and solid that has been straining to carry you through this ordeal. You can hear it crack under the force of that jab.

"She did her best, Thay," Giliys says quietly as you listen to the cracks spread.

"It doesn't really matter when her best leaves me unable to feed myself, does it?" Theo retorts flatly, not even glancing in Giliys's direction and holding up a bandaged hand for emphasis, and you feel a flare of frustration.

"It's not forever," you insist. "We'll find you a healer who can fix your hands, you just have to be patient."

Charcoal gray eyes flash dangerously as he speaks. "Patient? I have been nothing if not patient while you drag me from useless healer to useless healer because your pride can't stand the idea that maybe there's something you can't fix."

Corvinius's words echo in your ears. Who are you trying to protect? The anger flares in your chest anew. "You have no business lecturing me on pride, not with the stunts you've been pulling."

Refusing to eat because he can't stand being spoon fed; routinely soiling himself for days before breaking down and accepting help with the toilet; almost killing himself trying to shave–the past few weeks have taught you that Theoven Derenge is nothing if not proud.

"Forgive me for not being the perfect patient. I had assumed it was acceptable to be imperfect considering I am being cared for by a blatantly imperfect priest."

You almost snarl at the jab at your commitment to your faith, but your self-control wins out. "Would you rather I let you die in Rivad so I could be a more perfect priest?"

He has the audacity to shrug. "At the very least, I'd get some peace and quiet."

You gape at him. "I abandoned my calling to break you out. Giliys and Kob almost died before we even found you. And you're so determined not to show gratitude that you'd say something like that?"

"I never asked anyone to do anything for me. That was your decision," Theo retorts, voice chillingly even. "Nobody is stopping you from going back to your calling. Perhaps you'll actually be useful there."

"Okay, maybe we should all just shut the fuck up now before someone somehow says something even fucking worse," Giliys interjects, finally regaining some of his usual bravado. Neither of you acknowledge him.

"Useful?!" You exclaim voice rising. "Who healed your wounds? Who splinted your hands? Who has been measuring out your medicine?"

"You refuse to give me enough medicine to get me through the night and expect me to be grateful?"

"I thought it was enough!"

"Because you were too much of a coward to face your church if you didn't have to."

It feels like a slap in the face, the even tone he says it in just rubbing salt in the wound because he seems so damnably calm. The cracks spread, loudly.

"I don't have to put up with this," you say, working hard to keep your voice from cracking. "You understand? I don't have to stay."

"Then don't. There's not much of my life left to destroy, so your work here is done, isn't it?"

The cracks go silent as that thing inside you finally shatters, and everything suddenly feels clear for the first time since hearing of Theo's arrest. You turn and pick up your doctor's bag from its resting place next to the door before turning back to Theo and holding eye contact.

"I will be back in two weeks to take off the splints," you say. "Unless you decide you'd rather take them off yourself than trust an imperfect coward." 

If Theo has any visible reaction, you don't notice it before you turn and go out the door. You make it perhaps five steps down the rickety flight of wooden stairs before you're stopped by a desperate cry.

"Qweck! Wait!" It's Giliys, racing out the door after you, closing the door behind him before hurrying to your side and speaking in hushed tones. "That's not him–it's just the pain talking. You know he doesn't mean that. You know–"

"No, Giliys, I don't," you say, your voice louder than his–you don't have it in you to care if Theo can hear you. "What I know is I've given up everything to help that man, and he still thinks of me as an arrogant coward who ruined his life."

"He doesn't think that! He's just–he's scared. He knows we're almost out of meds, and he knows what that means, and he's fucking terrified."

"And I can't help him. I tried, but I don't have a way of getting him more medicine."

"I can take care of the meds, but I need your help to take care of him–I know I'm usually the one helping him eat and read and wipe his ass, but you help him by being here. I swear–he hates me, Qweck. You're what makes the situation bearable for him."

You stare at him incredulously, your mind replaying the scene from last night: Theo desperately clinging to Giliys for comfort while the pain steals his ability to function. "Giliys. A blind man could see that he doesn't hate you. He's just too broken to love well."

It's a cruel thing to say, but you're too exhausted for compassion. Giliys's face shifts from pleading to angry. "You take that back. He's strong, he'll heal, it's just going to take time, and he needs us."

"Then maybe he should treat us better." You take a deep breath. "Like I said, I'll be back to check on his splints. Maybe the time apart will help."

"And where will you go?" Giliys demands. "And don't say the Sacred Order, you're on a short enough fuse these days that there's no way you didn't fly off fucking the handle when they told you to fuck off."

Damn him. Damn him for knowing you that well. "I don't care. If I need to sleep on the street to get a break from his bullshit, I fucking will." 

Giliys face falls. He closes his eyes and takes a breath before bringing a hand to his forehead. "Okay, okay. Look. If you're that sure…go to the Long Roads Coffeehouse in the Villegre district. Talk to Laria, tell her Giliys sent you. She'll probably expect you to work but…you might find the work more familiar than you'd think."

She's a Bellflower contact, then. Some of the heaviness in your chest lifts at that–the thought of working with the Network again, doing work that matters, feels like a balm to your soul. It will be nice to be useful again. You nod. "Thank you, Giliys."

His hand shifts upward from his forehead to grip his hair. "Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I'll try talking to him." You're certain that he won't–he's too afraid of upsetting Theo–but you appreciate the sentiment. "Maybe this will be a wakeup call."

"Maybe," you say, but you don't know. You normally would expect Theo to own up to his mistakes, but you would also never expect him to be like this in the first place. "Look…whatever flayleaf you find, bring it to me before you give it to him, OK? I'll make sure it's safe and show you the right dosage–and don't give him more than I tell you. If he needs a higher dose, come find me, and I'll tell you what's safe, ok?" You sigh. "I'll…probably be back. Not probably, I will be. I just…I need a break."

Giliys nods, relief plain on his face. "Yeah. Will do. Take care of yourself, OK?"

"You too, Giliys."

You continue down the staircase. You look back up when you reach the street to find Giliys still there. He watches you go until you are out of sight with what you suspect might be longing, and you wonder with some guilt how long until he leaves, too.

[spacecrows]

The thing that really sucks about ADHD and ADHD meds for me is that it’s so difficult to tell if I am medicated properly or not? Like I know I am very lucky that the only other meds I ever really need are the occasional ibuprofen for a headache or something to help with nausea a few times a year (and like contraception and vitamins lol) - but when I am in pain I notice the pain I think “I should take an ibuprofen” and once I do the pain gets better and if it gets worse again I notice and take another. Same with nausea. It’s easy. But with ADHD, most of my “symptoms” when I am unmedicated just feel like character flaws? So for 20-something years before I knew I had ADHD I just thought I was just a procrastinator and stupid for not being able to read long texts and that I was really lazy and that I just got exhausted way too quickly and had to try harder and harder and harder and if I couldn’t, that was on me.  ANYWAY, when I finally did get my diagnosis it was already such a relief and such a help and therapy has also been really really good. But. The meds! I started taking meds and at first I didn’t notice much of a difference, because for me ADHD means that I have very high highs and very low lows, both in terms of mood and in terms of focus, productivity, etc. So when I started taking them, I thought I just had a few rather productive high functioning days. And since even on meds, things can still be difficult and the highs and lows are not gone completely, things were sort of blurry. But after a few weeks I forgot to get my prescription and went a couple days without them, and I realized this huge difference. I have not found my perfect meds yet, so I still struggle. But it is such an enourmous difference. Things are so much less difficult for me. Functioning is so much easier. It’s not like I am suddenly great at everything, I still forget 50% of the things I need to do and still procrastinate and still struggle with motivation, but things are doable. And I feel better about myself. Well, a month ago I changed my meds (mainly because I want to find something that gives me some inner peace and quiet once in a while? if anyone has any recommendations please let me know! magic mushrooms worked like a charm but ideally i’d like something. you know. legal. a girl can dream I guess). And I started with the lowest dosage. And that was evidently not enough for me. But I didn’t realize that I was not medicated properly, because there wasn’t some sort of distinct “symptom” to alert me. Instead, my sleep pattern slipped. Food was a struggle. Chores and urgent paperwork started to pile up. I felt days slipping by where I couldn’t get myself to do anything, really, not even hobbies I enjoy. And because it was gradual, and these are all things I struggle with (to some degree) even on meds, I didn’t realize what was happening. Instead, I got frustrated with myself. I thought “Wow, I am so lazy, I can’t get anything done. How do all my friends have their shit together and I just can’t cope? Why am I so stupid? Why am I such a procrastinator? Why don’t I have any energy? I am so undisciplined! I just really need to try harder!”. Needless to say, getting angry at myself didn’t really change much - except making me miserable. Until I realized that when I forgot to take my meds, I didn’t notice any difference. So I tried a higher dosage and suddenly, magically, I had the energy to do one or two small chores a day and answer one email and get out of bed and read a book I like and hang out with friends a few times a week.  But even after all that! I forgot to take my meds this morning, and I had the worst day. I was completely exhausted, felt weird, didn’t manage to reply to urgent messages from friends, took a depression nap and felt worse. Read the same page in my book over and over and over and over again and couldn’t make sense of it. Hated every single person on public transit that even breathed too loudly. Wanted to break out into tears on the tram (and nearly did). Only to realize around 5 pm that I hadn’t taken my meds. Took them, and pretty instantly felt better. I think I’ll tidy up my room a little now. And maybe even read a few chapters before bed. Things are fine. But I really really want some sort of inner alert that tells me if I have taken my meds and if the dosage works for me. Something like that. Please!!!

[thrawns-babygirl]

I had an anon in my askbox that was rudely asking me something along the lines of "why aren't you posting about Crosshair anymore" and I got mad and deleted it before figuring I should probably explain myself a little because all 860 of you did initially follow me for crosshair content so here goes:

So, like many of us, I am neurodivergent. I have intense, all encompassing hyperfixations that give me that ridiculous dopamine hit that we all know and love. Unfortunately, these hyperfixations have a shelf life (as much as I would prefer to be able to hyperfixate on a single thing for a long time and not worry about the enjoyment waning)

This means that in time, I struggle to connect with certain media the way I used to. If I set certain media to the side and then think about it a little while later, then I can sometimes get that rush back like I did when I first engaged with the media.

A good example of this is actually Hux and the sequel trilogy. Back when the sequels were new and exciting I was a feral Hux stan. I didn't have a blog I used back then so I just read fanfic on Ao3 and info dumped to my friends. (Lmao sorry guys)

But then the interest slowly waned, for star wars all together and I hyperfixated on other things, My Hero Academia, Haikyuu, Star Trek, until eventually my brain had enough of a break from Star Wars and let me get fully invested in it again.

Basically what I'm trying to say is, I would love nothing more than to still be fully invested in the Bad Batch fandom, but my brain will not let me feel the same way about it until I have a small break and think about something else for a while.

And like many of us, it was my comfort show. With my comfort characters. When the season 2 finale aired I was a mess. I'm not even a full time Tech fan but the way he went out broke me. It was hard to think about the show at all without feeling a whole slew of negative emotions, so I started rewatching rebels and the sequels to find a new comfort show and other comfort characters.

Look none of this makes any sense, but basically I'm sorry for the hux spam and lack of TBB content lately. It will return. I will come back to it, but its just really hard at the moment. I'll still finish off the requests once I am settled at my new house, but after that I probably won't turn requests back on for a while until I get over my negative emotions towards the show.

And before you hit me with the "but Hux died too" look i know, it's just easier to talk myself out of that one because it was so negligible in the grand scheme of the movie I can pretend he was helped into a bacta tank or something.

Look, if you got this far, thanks for reading my unmedicated ramblings. I'm sorry that the content you followed me for isn't happening as much anymore, but it will come back one day. When it's less difficult for me to think about.

Until then, enjoy the Thrawn posting and Hux posting. Or don't. I dont make the rules.

[owmylasagna-blog]

Hi! Edd AND Eddy 5, 12, 14, 25 :3

Thanks!! Sorry I wrote up an entire long answer and then uuuhhh my phone died 🤡 so let’s do this again!

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Not necessarily the songs of all time but recently it’s been

Edd:

Eddy:

And hell why not shipping music:

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Quickly, let me preface this section with the fact that I myself am white.

From the jump I’ve always thought Edd was not white, or mixed race, and had parents that were either first or second gen immigrants. And that it’s not very apparent in canon because his family assimilated really hard. I always felt this helped to explain a bit of his cultural sensitivities while at the same time adding some more depth to the intergenerational dynamics. Previously I’d imagined him as Filipino/white and more recently I’ve written him as mestizo/korean/white. I like seeing lots of other takes on this in the fandom throughout the years, like somewhat recently eddbedandeddy’s post that he could be MENA like his VA or gettingfrilly mentioning they see him as racially ambiguous. Recently the phrase “ancestral fruitcake” has been incessantly plaguing my mind (‘Tis the season/ is or is this not a hilarious stand in for the f-word slur please discuss among yourselves people) but that to me indicates that at least one line of his family is hwite.

Keeping on theme, I really cannot resist coding Eddy’s family as stereotypically dysfunctional Italian American (and let me elaborate on my opening statement by stating this identity IS my circus my monkeys 🙈). Memelzebub described his parents as Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman in the movie Matilda and I agree hard on that!

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Okay I looooove playing dress up with these guys so let’s get into it. I envision these more as they get into their teens and older.

Edd: a bit of grandpa (chunky thrifted sweaters), casual 90’s/00’s streetwear (long sleeve quarter zips, sneakers), specialized outdoorsy gear (like 100 pocket cargo pants, swishy pull over rain jackets) and he’s always kinda cold (puffer vests, layers, etc) uhhh and he still wears outrageously colored and patterned socks. I like to imagine he’d expand his hat selection. He prefers to dress practically and comfortably.

Eddy: SO MUCH STYLE POTENTIAL. He likes fashion so I could see him playing up lots of styles and having lots of phases through his teens and into adulthood. Other than 70s inspired fashion, I’d be lying if I didn’t shout out butch lesbians as a fashion inspiration. In high school I often imagine him wearing more casual 00’s clothing - baggy jeans and long jorts and skater sneakers and polos and bowler shirts. And then as he gets older he leans into more “slutty 70s” men’s fashion. I think for loungewear he has a huge selection of dramatic robes and kaftans like some old Hollywood diva.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Edd: idk this is classic but I had a crush on him as a kid. What can I say. Now I don’t have a crush on him but find him incredibly interesting and complex and fun to think about (: I think I always liked that he was a big nerd with sort of odd interests because I related to it. Now I relate most to his unmedicated anxiety 🙃

Eddy: also classic response, I found him grating and annoying during the original air time. But I didn’t flat out hate him or anything. I found his voice interesting and he was funny! Now I love love love Eddy. I only watched BPS in like 2013 and man did that really shift things for me in terms of being emotionally invested in this pink cube. What a guy!

[nitazenes]

What are your murder dreams about?

Hey

Good question

I don't know why I have this reoccurring dream but as a disclaimer I consider these dreams to be nightmares/night terrors. I don't enjoy them. In fact, they cause me a great deal of stress.

I've never had these dreams about another person except for once but these are mostly tied to my ex, she's on my DNI. Her name is Buffy. She did nonconsensual things to me when I was inebriated and couldn't give consent and overall she made my life a living hell from ages 15-21 which are like key fundamental years in life development and becoming a person and all that and I feel quit stunted.

When we broke up I lost *all* of my friends. Leaving me almost entirely alone with Graham (another name on my DNI) who had been abusing me for years at that point.

But the best thing Graham ever did for me was help me realize that I was staying with my partner out of fear of being alone.

When B and I broke up. Something snapped or switched in her because whe went from being somewhat reserved to bragging about going on a date and getting fucked 3 days after our break up

I never used to call her a rapist before because I didn't recognize the signs but she would use one of my touch triggers against me. It's a programming thing. But touch in that area, she discovered, would activate programming that made me submissive and encouraging of sexual behavior so. I didn't recognize this as the R word until later on. I was never giving consent even if I acted like I wanted to do it.

Anyway. Because of being manipulated this way. Being isolated, and my ex accusing me of things I didn't do and seeing my friends on social media saying they wish I'd die, I just shut down.

And then the dreams started. They always start with some sort of attempt to be diplomatic but it turns into her egging me on, something she did in pur relationship, intentionally making me so mad that she would act innocent and like I was crazy for being so angry.

I wasn't innocent BTW, this relationship was abusive on both ends. Mostly me being unmedicated and my BPD would make me rage at her. If she were to call me verbally/emotionally abusive. I would have to agree. I was. But I'm not that person anymore.

Anyway I had dreams about killing her every night. It would always start diplomatically but would turn into her ignoring me or egging me on to the point I would accidentally lash out and go too far and end up killing her

Those dreams haunted me for 2 years after the relationship ended but they went away for about a year. And then in 2022 she decided to DARVO and started calling me *her* rapist. Her story of what happened isn't coherent like there's so many plot holes. She's just saying it to garner more sympathy from her friends.

After these allegations, the nightmares started again. This time a lot more brutal and my intentions were set to kill her in those dreams.

The night terrors went away again until I experienced abuse from Ripley and Leah. Even though my issues were with other people, it was still always about her.

Last night was disturbing bc i had been making lunges at her with ol reliable (big knife I own) and she kept showing me her wrists which were scarred as if encouraging me to slash at her arms instead

That disturbed me enough to wake up.

My therapist tells me I have these dreams from repressed anger/trauma I experienced with her and also feeling the situation is out of my control like entirely.

Bc of this I have these night terrors but I must express again, they're just intrusive thoughts while I'm sleeping and I have no desire to actually hurt her or ever see her again

Just seeing the same type of car she had puts me on edge. I'd be more bound to get away from her bc she scares me. Rather than trying to harm. It's just a dream

An annoying one but a dream

[nabaath-areng]

I never cry, find it hard to do so even, but Eden Shiva's theme literally PULLS it out of my eyes with force and there's no way to stop it.

Why? Honestly it's a mix of things. But they all center around my feelings about the game in itself and my relationship to it over time.

Back in 2.4 when Shiva dropped in ARR, I had only a couple weeks prior moved halfway across the globe, which was also my first time moving out and living on my own. A huge step when you're 18, but I took the leap regardless.

When I fought Shiva that day when it had dropped, I was obsessed. The aesthetics, the music, the emotions from MSQ... needless to say it left a mark in my memories. And months later I became psychotic from unaddressed trauma and unmedicated ADHD in combination with being on my own in a place where I was still trying to learn the language properly.

I ultimately had to return home the year after, even though I had originally planned to stay for two years. As I've talked about before it took me a couple years upon returning home to be freed from the delusions that haunted me, as well as of how FFXIV was the only thing really keeping me alive throughout it all. I couldn't kill myself, I thought... not when I was looking forward to play Heavensward so badly. And then the following patches and expansions after that became my new goalposts.

And then I fight Eden Shiva.

Not on launch. I was taking a break from the game as I'd become stressed from changes in my life while keeping up at the near obsessive pace ingame I had for years. So I only did it a couple months after the fight came out.

I was absolutely floored. The music, mechanics and the cinematics and the story's impact opened my eyes to how far the game I love had truly come. It was such a mindblowing upgrade to the original fight I loved so much, and not only was it incredible to see how much the game itself had evolved... but also to realize that I wouldn't have ever gotten to experience it if I hadn't stayed alive.

This was what I stayed for. Of course I also did so for my friends and family... but FFXIV was the only light in the darkness of my mind back when I was on my own on the other side of the planet from my family and loved ones, where I had nothing or no one to keep me grounded to reality.

And yet I persisted, with help from a few friends in particular who reached out when I nearly did give up, and was as a result able to see both FFXIV and myself growing to heights I could never have expected back in ARR.

And so everytime I put on Eden Shiva's theme, even to this day, I cry. The tears literally won't stop coming, I can't even do the fight ingame without them starting to flow. I rarely ever see the final part where Gaia joins in, because my vision's too blurry to make out details. If there were any AoE's or other mechanics to worry about in that final phase, I can assure you I would have stood in every single one.

Is that corny? Probably. Absolutely. But holy hell I really do love being alive. To be able to feel such strong emotions that aren't negative even if they're overwhelming. To be able to experience such beauty, and alongside with friends, and even strangers in duty finder. I can't believe I almost missed out on this.

I'm writing this because it happened just now, I put on the song while sitting out on the porch, and like a clockwork the tears started streaming. I hope crying won't be as difficult one day, but until then I'm glad that there's at least something that can let them flow freely.

[ruckis--rookie]

Ruckis, can you help me out by talking about OOTS real quick? 🥺👉👈

Okay so the thing is... I have a bunch of OCs lying around, and I'd love to write a nice story for them! The only problem is, that I never wrote a story from scratch before 🤨

Soooo... How did OOTS come into existence? How did you get the idea for the main plot and themes? How did you manage to tie the characters into the story? How did you make the rules for the world as a whole?

Please tell me I'm desperate and really like OOTS rip

Oooh that IS a really... complicated thing to answer, but an interesting ask nonetheless. One that I'm going to enjoy answering >:3c

You see, the reason it's difficult to explain is because I simultaneously have no idea what I'm doing and at the same time I have exactly every idea of what I'm doing, if that makes sense. I partially blame/thank my unmedicated severe adhd for my hyperactive imagination, I can pull a lot of stuff out of my ass on a whim just by sitting and thinking for 5 minutes. At the same time I used to love reading as a kid, I loved writing all throughout Jr. High and Highschool, and even now I love dissecting the plots of cartoons, movies, and games, guessing things before they happen. If I had to describe a fantasy story, furthermore making one, it's like.... building a structure, but that structure is made up of absolute bs.

It's easy if you start out with asking yourself a few questions. What do you want this story to be about? Who are the characters and their drives, goals, and aspirations? How do *they* play into the themes of the story? What *are* the themes of your story? Do you want to convey a lesson? Once you have those little details you can start branching out. A looot of it is world building and connecting the dots. Don't be afraid to take inspiration from other things as well! Whether that be from real life or fiction... I'll use OotS as an example.

Order of the Stars started as a theoretical question. I was going through a hard time in my life. I still am, but I'm working hard to get to a point where things can get better but that's besides the point. I mention this because I wanted to make something special. Something of my own that I could use as an escape. So I presented myself with a question... what if someone in the same position as me took an absolute nosedive for the worst? What would they do in response?

That's why in first chapter of the missing chapters version of OotS you can get easily drawn to the main characters presented currently. Her struggles are inspired from real life. They're taken from mine, albeit with some drastic liberties. Side note, That's actually why that, despite being a what if version of me I can't connect with her. She will never be a Sona, because she's someone I don't want to (and strive not to) become.

Anyways I presented more world building questions that would give me more opportunities to make the story more interesting. What if in this world magic and dieties, while obscure, did exist? All these questions combined were my starting point. From there I built out. Both backwards to explain more and solidify more of the story and the why's, and forward. Spoilers, it eventually lead to nuclear warfare that caused the near destruction of humans and the hastened evolution in animals. That may seem like it makes NO sense without context, but you just have to wait to read a little deeper. Everything is connected.

I gave myself a setting, several story themes, both overarching and some that you have to read deeper into. Order of the Stars literally reflects one of those themes. It has a double meaning. One of the themes is hammering down on the abusal of power from people higher up on the authority chain. Basically building this hierarchy, an "Order" if you will, that poses as one of the overarching antagonistic threats. It's also a nice little hint towards the involvement of dieties made from celestial and astral bodies. Kitsuneoctua is a god made out of a constellation, and what is a constellation but the order in which stars align?

Another theme touches on racist/xenophobic behaviors. I've never gotten how people can be like that. We're all people, it's honestly upsetting to see how people will fight each other just because of something like skin color and ethnicity. So I made not just an entire culture to reflect that, but the main characters from the heroic version of OotS reflect that too. You have Aleron, a human who grew up around an entire city of people who are xenophobic and racist towards what are called "Modern Animals" (the anthro animals that can walk and talk). Despite that he adores them. He sees them as equal. He's kind hearted and almost sickeningly sweet, if not a little inexperienced. And then you have the other hero, Roxie, who acts as a character foil. She grew up being taught that humans can't be trusted, only to have a human try and nurse her back to health and risk his life for her. The two vow to work together and embark on a journey, leaving everything they knew behind. They have to learn how to work through their differences and get along, all the while striving to make the world a better place. Hopefully the take away that people get from that is we can all get along and fight for better despite our differences. There's no need to fight each other.

Overall a lot of my story writing is cause and effect. Thinking about how people or objects will react a certain way. A butterfly effect, almost. And how I can connect the lines. It's like a tree. You plant a seed and when you supply it with things to grow it starts sprouting branches, and blossoming, all the while growing hardened roots underneath. It sprawls every which way until finally, you've made something beautiful.

As for rules... the rules are what you make them, really. It's your world. You're practically God, if you said that for whatever reason platypus have duck wings and can fly than goshdarnit they have wings and they can fly. I personally just like to provide explanations that seem like they would make sense to wrap it up in a nice little bow :> outside of that, the only other tip I can offer is simply a nitpick of mine in terms of story writing. Refrain from retconning too much. For me consistency is the best policy. I hope this provides some good insight, I tried 😅

[fnich-enthusiast]

Hi welcome to university tips as a final year student with unmedicated ADHD who has worked part time for 2/3 years of his degree. I have made so many mistakes and after much trial and error have actually created a healthy working lifestyle, here are some tips so that you don't have to make the same mistakes as I did

If you are going to get a job while at university I would very much recommend trying to work for the university. They are typically a lot more understanding and flexible for students (this is not always the experience but this tends to be more the case than non-university jobs) which allows you to pick up and drop hours depending on how much free time you have

Try to get things done early. I know this is said over and over again but it genuinely improves the quality of your work and life

Do this by setting yourself earlier deadlines. I know that this is repeated so often and when you look at it that way it doesn't work. If you set yourself an internal deadline you are still going to know when the external one is so it just doesn't count in practice. However, the life hack is to turn your internal deadlines into external ones. You want to finish an essay a week before it's due? Tell people. Tell your friends, your parents, your academics if you are comfortable with that. Turn your internal deadlines into external ones for all the bonuses of feeling that time pressure while maintaining a high standard of work and life

Source: I spent YEARS thinking internal deadlines were fake news and writing everything at 12am running on anxiety and a prayer. I have been telling my parents what my internal deadlines are for the last year and a half and nothing I have ever done has been better for my mental health

On a similar note, use the people around you. Do proofreading exchanges with friends (preferably not ones working on the same assignments). You'll get a fresh set of eyes on your work and proofreading things for other people can actually be very good for your own work because spotting other people's mistakes can make you more mindful of your own

Utilise your university's resources. Have an essay coming up? Go to office hours and talk about it. Don't understand something discussed in class? Go to office hours and talk about it. Academics are there to help you and usually want to talk about the topic they're passionate about anyway. Have a disability? Use disabled students support, they are there to help you. Universities have so many resources available but you have to be the one to reach out. 99% of the time nobody is going to check on you, but once you make that first step there is usually some form of support available

Take breaks!!! I cannot stress enough how important this is. For my first two years of university I just did work whenever and I was so unbelievably stressed. This year I have refused to do any work on weekends no matter what. Yes, this increases my workload during the week but taking time to switch off actually makes you so much more productive. This has been the best academic year of my life, and so much of that is because I have allowed myself to take a break no matter how much work I have to do

Similarly, create a separation between the space where you work and the space where you live. I do not work in my bedroom full stop. By doing all of my work in public spaces (e.g. the library) or in the living room if I can't leave the house for whatever reason my bedroom has become a space entirely devoid of university stress. I have spent most of my life working in my bedroom and I honestly can't even begin to explain how much of an improvement this has made to my stress levels and overall mental health

Get involved in student life outside of academics. It doesn't matter if you're representing the university in sports, working in student journalism, joining your university's Taylor Swift society, or all three. University isn't just about learning inside of the classroom and you will enjoy your work a lot more if you have space away from it

Actually sleep, I guarantee it will make your life so much better

Find little things to do every day to help you wind down. I like reading for half an hour every evening, but it's really dependent on who you are as a person. It is just good to have something that you do to indicate to your brain that the work day is over so that you let yourself rest

You will find your learning style, but it really helps to actually listen to academics and older students when they give you tips. I spent a year turning my nose up at the idea of reading things through once before going back and taking notes on them because I was worried about how much time it would take. I now spend a similar amount of time on readings as I did when I refused to reread anything, but I actually understand the content now

Make note of your feedback on assignments and record what you did well as well as what you need to improve on, it will genuinely really help you improve. It is important to make sure you know what you do well because will just put you in a bad place mentally

Find friends who have similar working styles to you, it's so much easier to get things done when you have someone to keep you in check. I really like going to the library with friends because I feel that I get more work done that way, but obviously this isn't the case for everyone

These are things that work for me, and will not necessarily work for everyone, and I have probably forgotten some things. If the mental health/general wellbeing aspect doesn't motivate you, my work has gone from on the low end of average to bordering on the highest it can possibly be as I have implemented more of this into my life. Obviously, some of this will be practice, but having the time and energy to dedicate myself to my work has helped a hell of a lot as well. University is a brand new working environment and you need to change your approach to working in many ways, but everyone struggles at first and everyone learns from those struggles, you will find your place like many people have before you

[subarus-gentle-butterfly]

what was miu’s father like?

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of alcohol, drug use, abuse, the not so pretty symptoms of bipolar. If you are uncomfortable with any of these topics, please do not read or interact. I am not responsible if you choose to ignore these warnings and cause yourself mental harm. I will be tagging each of these triggers in the tags of this post as well.

Mikuo tried his best in the beginning. He really did, and he was ecstatic to have a baby girl. Up until Miu turned around 6 or 7, that's when things got worse. Mikuo became unhappy in his failing relationship with her mother, the product becoming Miu's younger brother, Goro.

Miu was too young to understand the reality of what was happening between her parents and to realize that things were not normal. She loved having a brother, though, which her dad was happy to hear about back then. Mikuo never felt bad about cheating on Chisato(Miu's mom) and having a child with someone else, which is where things start to change. His true colours start to show a few years afterwards.

Mikuo was young and still had a lot of growing to do, and was trying his best to provide for his small family, but most of Miu's memories of her dad from this time would be him sleeping a lot and being angry and raising his voice at her over small things. Chisato was gone for a while and came back into the picture, but she was still heavily hooked onto drugs and alcohol, and she became obsessed with Miu to the point where Miu started to feel like she had to be the mom in their relationship. Mikuo didn't like this, but he knew Miu wanted a whole family, so he tried his best to keep her mom with him in the picture, but he was still very unhappy.

He had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and anger issues, and was unmedicated for a long time, and when he was medicated, he wouldn't always take them. This is where things took a turn for the worse. His mania and depressive swings would get more extreme. He stopped playing with Miu asmuch and started to only find enjoyment in sex and money.

Over the years, he had steadily gotten to the point where he found a good job, one with great benefits and one that paid well. One that could keep him and the family afloat enough so they would be able to survive and at least look like a normal happy family. He was at this job for a long time, and he had moved up in ranks and was generally well liked within the company. This made him feel a bit more satisfied, and he really tried his best to be a good father, despite his misgivings.

Mikuo was then suddenly fired from his job over something that he wasn't responsible for, and he kind of exploded at that point. He became more cynical and angry and he genuinely couldn't find any happiness anymore other than alcohol. He took a lot of it out on Miu and Chisato.

Mikuo had no other outlet to vent his frustrations on. He had lost his insurance coverage which helped cover the costs of his medication for his bipolar disorder, and due to his drinking, it amplified the not so great sides of the illness. He turned into a total jerk, a horrible father, and an even worse person.

When he found another job that didn't quite treat him the best or pay him the best, he felt a little better, and was actually kind of happy when Goro was sent to live with them. He was excited to have a son and was happy to see his daughter getting along with him, but it wasn't enough to keep him happy or satisfied. He tried to shape up a bit, but never really thought about the gravity of his actions towards Miu and her mom. Goro saw bits and pieces, and really clung onto Miu afterwards.

Mikuo was still very unhappy with everything going wrong in his life, and continued to get upset and angry easily, often screaming at his kids to shut up when they were just playing together. He didn't really think about anyone else's feelings but his own. Instead of trying to understand or listen to his children when they wanted to tell him how they felt or if something was wrong, he was busy wallowing in self-pity, drowning in his sorrow and frustrations.

After Goro was taken away, he started to feel more hatred towards his life and how boring it was. He continued to take out his stress on Miu and Chisato, and started to see less colour in the world, he couldn't feel joy anymore and the only hint of pleasure he could ever feel was the amusement of seeing others more miserable than he was. He turned into a sick and sadistic man who found enjoyment in hurting the people who loved/depended on him. He couldn't understand what he was doing was wrong anymore, and he never wanted to be sober anymore. He had also started to get into drugs at some point but he wasn't so hooked on them like Chisato was.

[vampstel]

I fell asleep. Anyway, here’s an infodump about my two boys (Lawrence + Rei) and their experiences with being neurodivergent. I’ll talk about my other neurodivergent characters a different day :P

Lawrence

He’s autistic. He was diagnosed in his late 20s. He was evaluated once in the late 90s as a preteen but all his behaviours either flew under the radar or were dismissed as quirks.

Sadly got bullied a lot in his school years due to being different but his parents were very supportive (his mother being autistic herself but not being diagnosed either). Thus, he has a lot of trust issues and some trauma he still needs to process.

He’s very blunt and can’t lie to save his life. This has gotten him in trouble many times and most people keep their distance away from him since they deem him rude and intimidating (“but he’s a sweetheart he really is please trust me” - Rei, probably)

He’s absolutely oblivious to nonverbal cues and social cues. Doesn’t understand societal norms and thinks they’re ridiculous. Also, he takes things too literally.

Used to mask as a child to try to fit in but stopped once he got older. He doesn’t give a shit anymore what people think and that’s very cool of him

His special interests are history, music, and cats. He only infodumps when people ask him to but BOY is he passionate when he does. That’s probably the only time you’ll get to see him being expressive otherwise his tone is flat and he looks either bored or angry.

He has sensory issues, has misophonia and can’t handle staying in crowded places. He absolutely despises when people talk too loudly or when voices overlap one another. He gets headaches because of this. He also can’t stand certain tactile textures and food textures. Shoutout to overly crispy food, he hates them with a burning passion.

He regularly stims and isn’t ashamed of it. He mostly stims due to boredom and stress, but occasionally does it when he feels extremely positive emotions. Twirling his hair, drumming his fingers, and spinning anything in his hands are his most common stims. You often see him doing them while he works. I think I mentioned this before but he’s skilled at spinning his conductor’s baton because of this

He’s touch averse but also touch starved which is a great combination that I personally suffer from myself. He gets uncomfortable when strangers touch him but he’s fine with family members and close friends touching him. He is particularly very touchy with Rei and basically makes the raven his weighted blanket or teddy bear at night

When he gets overstimulated, he often leaves the room and isolates himself to try to calm down. If he’s burntout, he takes a few days off work just to indulge in his interests and relax.

Rei

He has ADHD, was diagnosed in his early to mid 20s but is unmedicated because the medications he tried didn’t help him and negatively affected his health. His father, Yuuma, also has ADHD and was diagnosed late in his life. Yuuma is very supportive and helps Rei as much as he can.

He struggled a lot in school, mostly due to deadlines and his workload. He would’ve been top of his class hadn’t it been for the fact he often doesn’t do his homework or projects (and he was a literal delinquent when he was 14 so…)

He had a lot of peculiar hyperfixations and did a lot of hobbies before sticking to art and music. Due to this, he’s got a lot of skills most people don’t know about. Did I ever mention this man was good at fencing?

He suffers a lot with executive dysfunction and burnout. There are days, sometimes even months where he can’t work or do anything and the only thing he can do to cope is to gradually get back into things or just do nothing at all.

He has sensory issues. He has misophonia and gets really bad migraines when it gets triggered. He often has his noise cancelling headphones because of this.

He’s always in a state of overstimulation or understimulation. No inbetween. He’s gotten so used to it that he just rolls with it. Oh yeah, and he forgets to take care of himself. He’s just like me fr fr

He has insomnia because he overthinks a lot. He used to have meds but grew tolerance to it and the other meds he tried only made him oversleep. His current medication is Lawrence. I’m not joking. His brain turns off once he cuddles with his husband at night.

His main hyperfixations are art, music, and the occult. This man can talk about his fixations unprompted and won’t shut up about them at all. He gets really embarrassed about it afterwards and apologizes

He stims a lot to stay focused or grounded. Often pacing around the room (only when he’s alone), bouncing his leg, or spinning/clicking his pens (which pisses Lawrence off to no end which makes Rei do it even more LMAO)

He can’t and never has a schedule. He has a general idea of things he wants to do on a day to day basis, but never sticks to it completely and prefers to have a flexible schedule.

And there you have it. Both my faves are neurodivergent, who would’ve guessed. I don’t talk about them being nd a lot cause it isn’t a big focus in the story but it IS integral to them since you can see their traits and how it affects them. Especially with Lawrence. That poor man can’t take a break.

[katbluecheese]

I have a dilemma.

I had my first therapy session yesterday with a new professional. Technically I think she's a social worker. But I don't know why I was assigned to a social worker because I specifically signed up for this service because I am already diagnosed bipolar and ADHD, and I'm seeking diagnosis for possible BPD and autism.

This is the second professional I have been assigned. I did not feel comfortable talking with the first one, just from setting up our appointment over the phone. This is a service that actually sends the professional to you. However, my home is not a place I feel comfortable speaking freely. With the first professional I couldn't even communicate to her that I needed to meet her somewhere like a park or something. She was more worried about having to pay a toll on a bridge to come see me, which wasn't even relevant because I don't live on the other side of that bridge.

Anyway, I contacted the service that set me up with the original therapist and requested someone else. It took them a second to find a new person for me. I had my first session with her yesterday. We met in a park, sat on a bench, and I cried my eyes out telling her how hopeless I've been feeling because of the narcissistic abuse I'm experiencing at home, at the hands of my mother. Because I'm also currently pregnant, I am unmedicated for my bipolar disorder, resulting in me being extremely depressed. I'm also concerned about subjecting my child to my mother's narcissistic abuse and potential physical abuse (because she did physically abuse me as a child) once he is born.

This professional responds by telling me to just block out what my mom is saying, to remember many people have it worse than I do, and to listen to music or go on walks (I have been having increasingly difficult mobility issues since becoming pregnant). She also wants me to make to-do lists in order to make my days more productive, to combat my bipolar depression. I explained that my ADHD doesn't executive function like that but I'd try.

This is where my dilemma lies. I don't feel like this was a productive therapy session at all. To tell me to invalidate my own feelings while being verbally and mentally abused, just doesn't sit right with me.

If I were to ask for a different professional, it would take weeks for a new person to be assigned to me. I have a tricky scheduled to work around because I have two jobs, and I'm responsible for getting my boyfriend to and from his full time job. He's epileptic and cannot drive. This lady was able to work around my schedule. She was even willing to meet me on Sundays. I don't know that anyone else would be able to do so.

Something just doesn't feel right with the whole, "other people have it worse," phrase being thrown around. On the other hand, maybe what she told me was sound advice and I'm just too lulu delulu to see it? Idk.

I need some help. I don't trust myself from a lifetime of being harassed for every decision that I make. Any and all advise would be helpful. I don't really have people in my life I can talk to about this sort of thing.