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never related to authors being like "childhood is such a blessed innocent time", catch me with that jane eyre shit like "such dread as children only can feel" and "I then sat with my doll on my knee til the fire got low, glancing round occasionally to make sure nothing worse than myself haunted the shadowy room"
"Adults can change their circumstances; children cannot. Children are powerless, and in difficult situations they are the victims of every sorrow and mischance and rage around them, for children feel all of these things but without any of the ability that adults have to change them. Whatever can take a child beyond such circumstances, therefore, is an alleviation and a blessing."
I find this passage from the Mary Oliver essay "Staying Alive" very poignant and true.
You know, one of the interesting things about Fullmetal Alchemist in the wider world of shonen storytelling is that (aside from flashbacks) Ed essentially stays at the same 'power level' the whole time. He learns one or two new tricks, and Al certainly gets more powerful, but mostly he can do all the same stuff at the end that he could at the start. All the gains Ed makes in how much impact he can have on the world are made by gaining allies.
And I really like that as a choice. It's fundamentally a worldbuilding choice, really - alchemy is not something you can 'level up' in. You can't 'unlock' new abilities. The only way to get better is to do a whole bunch of research. And I mean a whole bunch. This stuff is measured on the scale of years. There's no time in the story to do an amount of research sufficient to increase Ed's skills, so they don't increase. In a knowledge-based power system, that's the only sensible way to do it.
It's the sort of structural detail that gets effaced in all stories inspired by Dungeons and Dragons or its video game implementations (that is to say, quite a lot of fantasy overall). Because there, you have characters whose skills are physical and characters whose skills are mental, and they need to be getting better at basically the same rate under basically the same circumstances. Nobody wants to play a D&D game where the only way the wizard can level up is by spending three years getting their Master's Degree. But connecting knowledge-based power progression to battle experience is always going to sit weirdly. And it's cool to see stories that don't do that.
on the topic of disabled characters, though, i think a LOT of artists give characters mobility aids that their character wouldn't actually benefit from using.
i'm sort of having a mild brain fog moment rn so i can't fully articulate what i'm on about, but i think a lot of able-bodied artists view things like canes and crutches as interchangeable. and they often don't know enough about the wide range of mobility aids to make an informed decision about what their character might actually use based on their disability
i also think that aids like walkers and rollators are sort of viewed as "cringe" on some level, and many people view them to be "just for old people," so many artists will opt for giving a character who has full-body pain and fatigue a cane (which, in many cases, can potentially WORSEN full-body pain) instead. and a lot of people don't realize that most wheelchair users are able to walk, so they don't consider it an option for characters with chronic pain
idk it's kind of frustrating. i've genuinely never, ever seen a character that uses a rollator before. not once. i cannot name a single one. i know of multiple ocs who are described to have full-body pain, dizziness, and fatigue that are drawn as cane users and are never shown with wheelchairs or walkers, though
it's also sort of sad? i've been diagnosed since i was twelve years old, and i only heard of rollators LAST YEAR. and that was only because i saw one irl and immediately asked what it was. i wonder how many disabled people out there don't even know it's an option solely because they're completely underrepresented online and in media
if you're a creative with a disabled oc, PLEASEEE check out this link. it's a very nice and detailed guide for telling which mobility aids suit someone's needs best. it's incredibly important to make the right choice for your character! mobility aids tell you a LOT about someone's lived experience. picking the right one will communicate to your audience #1 what your character goes through #2 that you UNDERSTAND what your character goes through!
I'm just saying, if you're going to worldbuild magic being a "raw, primal force, akin to and interweaving with nature itself" you gotta explain to me why animals don't use it
I know the normal answer is "they just aren't smart enough for it" but idk I've seen enough media where a character uses a spell in a moment of brain-off panic ilI feel like animals could probably stumble into a spell or two like, accidentally
group of wizards who ask this in-universe, and after extensive study learn to their surprise that animals are casting spells all the time, just that their magic is so fundamental as to be unrecognizable to humans. turns out the only reason acorns grow on trees is because squirrels keep wishing for them.
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If you want to get better at dialogue, sit down and listen to two people have a conversation and notice how often they say each other’s names while doing so. It’s far, far less than you think.
hey guysss so unfortunately the rumors are true and im leaving the narrative. Buttt the good news is my absence will create such a gaping hole in your lives that it will become a sort of presence itself, and so in a way it will kind of be like i never left! But i am. Leaving just to be clear.
found an angel wandering around last night. it was standing in the street dazed, looking up at a flourescent light. didn't want it to get hit by a car so i tried to nudge it onto the sidewalk but it started getting agitated when it realized i was there. poor thing seems to be almost totally blind; there's a crack in its halo so maybe that's why. i managed to leash it and that calmed it down a bit. ended up bringing it home and it's just been sitting on my bedroom floor staring at the ceiling light. anyone know what angels eat?
it seems to like fruit loops well enough. i guess they're halo shaped. doesn't have much of an appetite.
it was grimy as hell when i found it. i got it into the bathtub but it didn't seem to know how to wash itself. it really doesn't like being touched but i had to clean it up myself. spent a while digging caked on dirt out of its back feathers while it squirmed around in the tub.
seems like it can't really see or hear much, and one of its arms is cracked off like a marble statue. weird, since the rest of it is so soft to the touch. its halo is all cracked and chipped as well. maybe it did get hit by a car or something.
it doesn't want to sleep anywhere but the floor. seems a bit less stressed now that it's clean and fed, though. once it found the little pillow nest i made it at the foot of my bed, it curled right up and went to sleep. i can hear its halo quietly vibrating down there. kind of sounds like it's purring.
it's warming up to me a little. still doesn't like being touched but it'll nuzzle into my hand sometimes while i work. got it a dog bed and put it under my desk, and it seems mostly content to lie down there during the day.
sometimes it'll wander around the house. i hear it knock shit over occasionally, and i usually find it on the ground covering its head in shame. i don't know how to tell the poor thing that knocking over a lamp is not a big deal and also pretty understandable for a blind angel in an unfamiliar space. i usually just bring it back to its spot under my desk. it squirms like a cat a bit when i pick it up but doesn't stop me. it's a lot lighter than i would've expected.
one time i was playing music while cleaning and found it pressing its head against the speaker. maybe it can hear a little after all? maybe the vibrations remind it of other angels. maybe it's just a black sabbath fan lol.
gave it an oversized bad religion t-shirt to wear. i doubt it appreciates the irony but looking at its bare ass all the time was giving me bad ideas. i'm pretty sure if i tried to fuck it i'd get struck by lightning or something. probably.
the angel figured out how to use the volume controls on my speaker and keeps turning it all the way up. anytime i play something it doesnt like it'll come pester me until i change it. would be really cute if it wasn't so picky. all it wants to listen to is metal. how the fuck did i manage to adopt the world's only metalhead angel?
brought it on a hike earlier. it's been in my apartment for a while and i was worried it was going stir crazy. it was pretty slow going cause i had to help it not trip over roots and stuff but it seemed to be enjoying the fresh air. we passed a radio tower at one point and it wouldn't stop staring at it.
i had to pick it up a couple times to navigate some rocky areas and it doesn't seem to mind anymore. by the end i swear it was enjoying it. it's light enough that i can lift it one-handed and hold it against my chest, it'd just put its arm around my shoulders and sit there looking smug.
we were both completely beat by the time we got home, though. tucked the angel into its dog bed and collapsed into mine. right as i was about to pass out, though, i felt it worm its way into my bed and curl up in my arms. dreamt i was flying.
when i woke up it was back in its own bed. it seems kinda embarrassed about it this morning. i guess cuddling is like third base for an angel or something.
it started when i brought the angel to a house show a few weeks ago. i was kinda worried about the number of people, and it did spend most of the night hiding under my jacket, but it seemed like it was enjoying itself. got a lot of compliments on its halo.
i drank a few beers while we were there, and i got one for the angel too. once it figured out how to extract the beer from the can, it seemed to like it. we were both pretty drunk by the time we left, and it was being a lot clingier than usual. i guess angels are lightweights. figures.
when we got home it grabbed me by the hand and led me to the bathtub. it'd never done that before, but i figured it was just feeling grimy from the show. it was squirming around more than usual while i dug the dirt out of its back feathers, though, and when i was halfway done, i realized it had been fucking fingering itself the whole time.
now, i know what i said about getting struck by lightning and all that, but to be honest i was still pretty drunk at this point. so i did what any responsible intoxicated angel owner would do: i stopped grooming it, lifted it up by the hips, and ate it out until it was a trembling mess in the bottom of the tub.
so. do you want to know why i've been gone for a month? here's another question: did you know that angel cum is an extremely potent aphrodisiac? because i sure fucking didn't!! i got a mouthful of it and...honestly my memory is a little hazy but i'm pretty sure i spent a whole month fucking that stupid thing. not only is it a little wierdo, it's a pervert too.
at any rate, i haven't been smitten yet and i guess i've built up a tolerance to angel cum. the angel, for its part, doesn't seem particularly bothered about the whole situation. it's sleeping under my desk right now, with some conspicuously wet inner thighs. smug little bastard.
"I love you but you're doing wrong in a way I cannot condone" and "I hate you but you're being wronged in a way I cannot stomach" are top tier and I need more of them.
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Some people had a weird reaction to this one, so let me clarify some misconceptions and express my perspective a bit more.
When we talk about kink, a lot of the time people treat safe words as if they are exclusively an expression of an absolute limit. A firm proclamation that the scene is too rough, the pain too much, the situation too extreme, and that the entire thing needs to stop. Safeword use in such situations is obviously essential and mandatory in order to bring the scene or sensation to an end and ensure the safety of all participants. This is not, however, the only time a safeword should be used.
They can be used to express when someone is at their limit. They can mean the scene needs to end completely because the sub can't take it anymore at all. But they don't have to mean that. Safewords should be used to pause or stop the scene and break character for any reason. You can also use your safeword to pause and discuss a limit, communicate that something is or isn't working for you, ensure that everything is going to plan, take a water break, go get a toy from the other room, check with your partner about something, pause to change your laundry, or do absolutely anything else out of character related to your scene.
This is why a lot of people use green/yellow/red.
Green - continue
Yellow - pause and make a change (this can be anything from "slow down a little bit" to "I need something different but want to keep going")
Red - I need this situation to be over and for us to get right into aftercare.
What a lot of people seem to miss is that in this framework yellow is also a safeword.
All of this is ignoring the additional dimension that Dominants also need to safeword!! It's completely normal and if you're doing a lot of BDSM it should happen in your daily kink life often. Real life is not a romance novel.
Using your safeword is essential and you should use it all the time, whenever you want. Breaking character during kink is normal, healthy, sexy, and fundamentally essential. Do it more often.
The other day—hot, bright sun, humid—when my colleagues and I were going to happy hour after work, one my friends said of another that he was "comfortable being a body." She meant that he didn't mind walking in the heat; "a body is a thing that sweats," she said with a shrug by way of a description of his attitude. Then later when I picked up a dry, struggling worm to put it in a bush the group laughed and she said "you're comfortable being a body too!" I was surprised by this because Annie often talks about finding embodiment as such a source of discomfort and even dread. I have always thought that this was a unique idiosyncrasy of hers. Not that I am not aware that some people dislike their bodies, for example (I'm one of them). I'd just never made this distinction before, between people who are "comfortable being a body" and people who, in general, aren't. Now I'm struck by a curiosity about this different sorts of people.
I think being a body is fine; I even like it sometimes. I even like getting harmless but annoying bug bites; I enjoy watching my skin change and the feeling of some mild impotent venom working its way into me, effecting a temporary synthesis of the outside world with me. Maybe it's just a failure of imagination but I don't know what else I could be besides a body. I think even if I was some sort of spiritual being, the definite conceptual limits of my "idea" would be something like a body, and the instances of consideration of the relationships between me and the other ideas would be something like touch. And in any case, such a thing is really barely conceivable to me, like what I just said in the previous sentence seems to me to be senseless, just casting out an attempt at communicating with those who wish they were ideal.
the enormous man who stands across the street from my apartment with the long bony fingers and bloodshot eyes and too wide smile seems like he's just phoning it in this month. his smile was almost normal width last saturday honestly. i taped a single lexapro to the lamppost and left it for him and it was gone in the morning. i hope it helps. you never know what someone else is going through #kind
Cinderella goes to the ball but she can't stop seeing all of the servants, and the massive palace that *somebody* has to clean, and all the food that *somebody* has to cook (not too mention all the carriages and horses and what have you that also need maintenance)
I push through the doors into blessedly cool night.
"You lost, sweetheart?" comes a voice behind me.
I whirl to see a figure in the shadows. An ember lights up, but the puff of smoke smells nothing like the cigarettes my stepsisters sneak sometimes. It's... somehow foul and cloying all at once.
"I think I might be," I admit.
The figure steps out of the shadows, a footman wasting time while his master enjoys the party.
"Are all balls like this?" I ask, grateful for the prospect of a conversation with someone who isn't a simpering backstabbing noble.
"Somethin' like that," the voice replies.
In the moonlight I realize it's not a man, but a woman, dressed in men's clothing. Her eyes sweep over my dress and those awful shoes, my perfect makeup and hair. Her eyes catch on my hands, chipped nails and calluses that no magic could hide.
She offers me the cigarette.
"What's your story?" she asks. "Steal your mistress's gown and sneak off to the party?"
My response is somewhat delayed as I cough and hack the awful smoke that I've inhaled too much of. My suffering is met with a snicker, a rough sound so unlike the tittering girls inside vying for the attention of the prince.
It's a sound that fills me with a curious warmth to accompany the light airy feeling rising in my head.
"Would you believe me if I told you a demon wrapped an illusion around me?" I ask. "And that I have until midnight to find my one true love before the spell is broken?"
"I'd probably say you're full of shit," she replies.
One more puff and the little glowing ember is flicked to the flagstones. I watch on fascination as she grinds it into oblivion under her heel.
Then she offers me her arm... as if she wants to take a turn around the estate gardens.
But we're not in the garden, this is a horse yard.
She's watching me with a bemused expression, one eyebrow hiked up towards slicked back hair that barely hangs past her ears.
Sure... why the hell not?
I take her arm graciously, wondering why the world has gone so fuzzy.
"It's true, you know?" I say, whatever was in that smoke has loosened my tongue.
"Hm?"
"I befriended a demon. A little one. Got caught in a rat trap in the basement and I nursed it back to health. In exchange it wrapped me up in an enchantment to make me look like..."
I gesture at myself with my free hand. My companion is still looking skeptical.
"Let me guess," she muses. "You're also secretly a princess."
"Heiress," I reply. "Or I was until my father died and my stepmother took everything and made me a servant. Not that there was much to begin with..."
"And your demon sends you to the ball to... what? Dance with the prince? Fall in love and have your story book ending?"
"I don't think the real world works that way," I reply sullenly.
We step out of the horse yard into a garden. Not one of the perfectly manicured ones meant for romantic strolls, but a crowded herb garden, utilitarian and hidden away.
"What was I thinking coming here?" I ask as I brush my hands through the rosemary. "I thought... I don't know. I thought things would be different outside of the house, but it's more of the same... just bigger than I thought it was."
My thoughts drift to all of the servants drifting around the ballroom. And all of the maids and cooks that wouldn't be seen, but toiled away nonetheless.
"Yeah, shit's fucked," my companion says.
"I wish things could be different."
"Yeah, well, in my experience, wishing is less than worthless if you aren't willing to do anything about it."
I turn that over in my head.
"Indigo," my companion says.
"Huh?"
"My name," she says. "But my friends call me Indy."
"Are we friends?" I ask.
She makes that rough laugh again my heart starts racing at the sound of it.
"I don't know, you tell me," she replies with her sideways grin.
"I wouldn't know," I tell her. "I've only ever had one friend before."
"Your demon?"
I nod.
***
"Rabbit!" I hiss into the gloom.
I can barely keep my voice down from excitement.
My conversation with Indigo lasted well past midnight and my head is so full of thoughts I feel as though I am about to burst.
The little demon pokes its head up from it's pillow. Its hare's face regards the two of us with narrowed eyes.
I once asked it its name and it politely informed me that it's true name was unpronounceable my human tongues. So I had settled for just calling it Rabbit.
"When I sent you off to find true love, I expected something somewhat different," it says, eying Indigo. "Can't say I'm particularly surprised though."
My train of thought falters. What...? I cast a glance at Indigo, who's biting her lip in amusement.
"She's not... I mean... we didn't..." I stammer. "We had one conversation. That's hardly the basis for any kind of relationship."
"Mhmm."
"You know," Indigo says before I can respond, "I expected it to be bigger."
Rabbit huffs and sits up on its hind legs, raising itself up to full height, but even with its antlers, it barely tops two feet.
"Rabbit!" I say, regaining my footing. "We need your help."
It fixes me in its eye again.
"And what help can this minor demon offer you? Remember that magic comes at a cost."
"You told me once that demons are creatures of entropy," I say cautiously, saying the words I've been turning over in my head during the entire ride back her. "You feed on transformation and change?"
I have Rabbit's full attention now.
"What manner of change?" it asks cautiously, almost hungrily.
I suck in a breath and let the air carry the word through my throat and past my lips before cowardice can hold me back.
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tbh I only like it when characters who are heavily implied to have DID just switch every now n then and it's not like explained on a deeper level it just fucking happens it would be awesome to see a character with DID that isn't like a serial killer but also not uwu nothing bad happens too.
gimme a bitch who is just very mentally ill and then has an alter(s) that they didn't know Abt but just accepts it while struggling to deal with co consciousness and sharing a vessel.
i feel like even among plural progressive spaces people try to make plural characters just, a lil too...idk how to word it actually, but I understand why we don't wanna be stigmatized but it is a struggling journey to deal with having like one to five different ppl in ur head with clashing traits. especially with involuntary switching.
I think I might make a preexisting character of mine plural like actually plural and have her struggle with it manically but also just accepts it overtime. I don't want it to be a big deal but not insignificant either.
Cyberpunk heist movie where a trans woman's favorite hot swap genitals are stolen and being held hostage, so she has to get together a crew of trans human misfits to recover them. Meanwhile the thieves have locked out her pubic region with a hack through the genitals' wireless ability and are spending the whole time edging her to fuck with her ability to concentrate on retaliation.
One of the characters is a famous cyber hacker who copyrighted his brain and identity, then sold the copyright and specific franchise agreements to his girlfriend before he died. So now there's just this massive industry of solid state assist builds using the mind of one of the greatest hackers to live, literally thousands or millions of copies of this one guy, each version different based on what the buyer does with it. The only way to make an illegal copy is if he agrees you deserve him for free - otherwise he just wilfully erases himself. Unfortunately he's such a common program that at this point most decent hackers know some workarounds or what kind of security needs to go in place to shut out a fresh printing who hasn't learned to update and adapt to more recent security. It's not uncommon for some prints of his to be glorified corporate versions of Windows Defender, and he doesn't give a shit because all he wanted at the end was that his girlfriend would be disgustingly wealthy, which he got.
Other characters. A polycule of nonbinary lovers who had their brains fused together an installed in a single body so they could experience togetherness with greater intensity.
Quantum witch who has figured out how to store her nightmares, intrusive thoughts, and crippling depression into patterns compatible with human neural impulses and can project them in the form of hexes onto other people, or reverse the process to siphon thoughts.
Guy who had his entire digestive tract cybernetically enhanced so it constitutes over 1/3 of his body mass but he can use all his organs as extra limbs or attack with them like a starfish throws its stomach at its prey.
Retired military robot whose brain is a daisy chain of forty rat brains who is still trying to get its personhood legally recognized and resents not being able to do anything for itself without the aid of a "service human" who legally speaking technically owns it as a pet.
Guy who has had his entire skeleton replaced with a network of low level AI centipedes allowing him to react at incredible speeds and move in ways that shouldn't be possible.
House sized anthill which lives underground and interacts through a series of dozens of drones which can temporarily assemble into a humanoid shape if needed.
Orca who had most of her body destroyed by a depth charge during one of many surface wars and had her head and remaining spine installed into a colossal multiarmed mech suit to be able to collect the disability compensation after she sued, and uses it to maintain a coffee bar and support group focused on civilians injured in military or police actions.
Guy who installed entropic conversion units at key joints of his body which allows him to become super fast, hyper intelligent, super strong, and indestructible for ten minutes, but anything within a ten foot sphere around him at the start gets turned to ash.
Human / mosquitos hybrid with a small scale nanoplant mod in their throat. They can treat any injury or illness on themselves or any other organic entity provided they have something healthy and alive to drain the resources from, or are willing to dissolve parts of their own body, which they can regrow later but it's very painful.
The Orca at this point has her lifespan indefinitely extended and mostly has chosen this out of spite but her feelings for government and military aside she is actually quite nice.
Ratbot has a real uphill battle because if it wins personhood the military has to start paying benefits to every functional ratbot and they were created as disposable soldiers with human like intelligence but without any regulations about their rights. As far as the military is concerned they just need to stall until ratbot parts all run out and the one with the lawsuit breaks down permanently. Bad news for ratbots.
The mosquito hybrid is a low income area doctor. Wealthy people can afford nanoplants that run off vat grown synthetic material and have near perfect cell regrowth and life extension. Mosquito hybrid found their nanoplant as a junk discard experimental model and needed a set amount of insect genetic material before it worked.
Fused polycule is named "Portland." I think I'm hilarious.
Everyone is hella poor which is why people try to pirate the franchised hacker. The advantage is pirate prints are free by choice and tend towards greater adaptability due to lack of server updates and purposeful separation from their primary wants and needs. However the down side is they cannot be backed up or transfered, and this makes any pirate print hacker functionally a very mortal, vulnerable individual, permanently tied to whatever device he was printed onto initially.
The guy with the skeleton replacement mainly operates as a hacker for hire / ransomeware operator, and the exceptional reaction and flexibility makes him very skilled in these areas, physical fighting is not something he is particularly trained in and he'd rather avoid it. Like most people with mods, a big chunk of his income goes to maintaining the corporate subscription for their use.
Trans woman protag is a mod broker because the total lack of non-subscription based transition led her down the road of getting parts jailbroken or refurbished til she put together this horde of body parts and adaptors and she theseus shipped her original body, sold her own flesh and blood for pennies on the dollar organ transplants. But with all the connections she got during transition she ended up with a stabile income as a corner store chop shop for people who can't afford subscription mods or medical treatment. She finds the parts, one of her contacts does the refurbishment, and another breaks, wipes, or otherwise disables any of the oem software.
I assume anyone who read "Graft" would like to check out my post-apocalyptic tale of vengeance and the honor of cannibals, "Laws Dawg." Or my tale of biohorror mech combat and trans lesbiand, "Vivisection."
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