Felitt @felittw0rks - Tumblr Blog

The Adapted follows the psychological journey of Osmond, an isolated, apathetic adolescent, striving for hope and humanity in a world driven by image, power, and greed. A group of teenagers who just enrolled in a Spanish private high school must navigate a selfish environment in which mind games and self-discovery are crucial to find their place and build their future. Will they all bear the consequences of their nature, or use it to their advantage?

Here’s the full ENG translation (Ao3 version) of The Adapted. I hope you enjoy your read!!

The Characters: Osmond (The Adapted), Morticia Fernandez (The Adapted), Luna Calderon (The Adapted), Sergio Tru Vilanueva (The Adapted), Sebastian (The Adapted)

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"I looked at my hands, covered in blood and tears, while water flowed from the sink, like a child it was as if I were discovering something new. That was the case. I was uncovering things about myself, piecing together this vile puzzle that is my mind. Afterward, I began to clean my face, wiping away the blood. I cleaned the blood on the sink, on my clothes, on the wall, on the floor, and finally, on my hands. I washed them frantically, as if trying to rid myself of this sentiment that had consumed me all day—and indeed, that was my goal. The more I washed, the clearer I saw, and the better I felt. "

-- The Adapted, Chapter VII: Guilt.

Monotonous Autumn.

"I left the school and started walking home at a brisk yet calm pace, my headphones in my ears playing Chopin's Nocturne No. 16 Opus 55, my favorite classical composer from the Romantic period. The music, with its melancholy tunes, transported me to a sad but peaceful state. I contemplated the tree leaves falling slowly to the ground, the dark gray clouds announcing rain, and the nearby cars expressing their discontent through loud engine noises and a nauseating smell of gasoline smoke. The journey prompted by the music was perfectly synchronized with my actual journey, made more pleasant by the dopamine released in my brain by these beautiful sounds. Indeed, music can reveal the absurdity of the purely human notion of "time," altering the perceived speed at which the hands on my watch moved. This amplified latency or increased speed was due to the power of music and art." - Osmond's musical monologue, The Adapted (Chapter II: Monotonous Autumn).

#ao3 #ao3 writer #original fiction #theadapted #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writerscommunity #original character #philosophical

small--town-r

Someone and I on here were describing what it is like to just sit with someone in silence and still know what they need. You don't break the silence, when the silence eases up said person will open up about it. No need to bring it up or ask. You've made them feel safe enough to be able to take the time they need in silence. We've all heard every piece of advice. At that point its not about advising or lengthy lectures.

Take time to understand the meaning of silence each person to learn the others.

10+ years to the absolute love of your life

that hell nor high water could break

nor shake

a love built on the usual

stages at age 18

First lust

Second, best friend

Then to spouse

Ending in

The love of your life

The only love of your life

So inseparable

We didn't have to think about nor discuss how we needed the other to love us

We just loved one another

It was as natural as the air we breathed.

That is what I grief the most about my ex husband. ( I've never mentioned him in my writings about the good times. Or how in love we were)

Everything was understood

Everything I couldn't say, stuttered to say and didn't know how to say

He knew what I was saying

when I couldn't speak

He spoke it for me.

That's a real grievance.

It will rip your heart out tear it to shreds crumble it up and throw it at you. The equivalent to the most painfully heartbreaking earth shattering of your very existence a part of you dies and I swear it never returns. That's what a genuine authentic,

loving to love

the love of your life

will do to a divorced heart.

R.A.

I'll try posting more excerpts of my novel this month since I'm *finally* somewhat free from gradschool stuff 😭

I really have been wanting to build a community of writers, readers -- people that share my interests but it's hard when I barely have time to breathe 😶‍🌫️

#ao3 writer #ao3 #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writblr #writing #writeblr

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felittw0rks

Osmond's first thoughts. Sketch by Vulpsart :p

fortheartsofnone

Reaching out to past me:

Dear sweet me,

The moment you raise your standards to match your worth, you won’t even want him anymore.

Sincerely,

The you that laughs at the idea of him now

smoothwhisper

expressions-of-nature

Full Moon, Sweden by Yuri Ovchinnikov

expressions-of-nature

by Mr.Liu

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crucifiedhereticprincess

A year ago, you told me, “You’re dead to me,” and I was convinced the obituary would follow shortly after. It didn’t. I’m still here. I don’t cry much anymore. Sometimes, sure. Usually when I remember something that still makes no sense no matter how many times I replay it.

That’s the hardest part. Not losing you. Losing any confidence that I ever understood what happened.

I survived the grief. I survived the silence. I even survived becoming the villain in a story I was never allowed to read. What I haven’t survived is the confusion. The realization that I can examine every conversation, every memory, every ending, and still walk away without an answer.

But apparently confusion doesn’t kill you either.It just stays...

neverlasting-letters

The smell of sweets,

Ripened treats,

That hang off just out

Of reach branches.

Two lovers kiss,

While I reminisce

On the days beyond yonder.

The sun shines to bare witness.

urgetocreate

Allan O'Marra (Canadian b. 1947), The Bather (La Baigneuse), 2014,. Oil and Acrylic on canvas

huariqueje

Little palm shadow - Carlos Diaz , 2026.

Catalan , b. 1968 -

Oil on panel , 55 x 46 cm.

thombalan

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kimquatz

been kinda obsessed with drawing trenchcoats lately oops

gothredy

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