"It takes a concerted effort, a strong spine, a steel will to rule. But my people do not rule through fear. They rule through violence. There is a great distance between the concepts. Consider if you will, the structure of my people."
The pad of Lae'zel's thumb finds her finger tips, as if creating a duck shadow in the light of the campfire. It snakes out as she speaks, zigzagging across her chest.
"The majority of Githyanki are soldiers. A soldier needs a General. A child needs a teacher. An army and a school need structure, routine. That is why they are called organizations in your tongue. Would you have the child grow up soft and in need of constant coddling? Would you have the soldier not pull their weight in battle---disobey their General, be cowardly or weak in time of crisis?"
"No. We rely on the will of Vlaakith to guide us. We are proud to cull our weak and serve. I killed four of my cousins to bring honor and respect, order back to our creche. And I would have killed them all had it been necessary and efficient."
"I am not afraid of Vlaakith. I am not afraid of the [Generals]. I was never afraid of my teachers. I respect them. They respect me. We have earned our place, we are a culture of warriors and survivors, in which each day is a trial by Red Dragon Fire---but we emerge chosen, a better people for it."
"If I am weak enough to be killed, I deserve to be killed, for disgracing my people, for disgracing myself. That is not the chains of fear or doubt. That is a point of pride and self-knowledge. I will never be killed by someone weaker than myself. I will always fight to the death for myself. I will never look back, only forward. To the next Celestial Body. The next mind flayer corpse beneath my boot."
"My people taught me my worth. And I am no more afraid of them than than the left hand is afraid of the right."
"Do you fear me, berserker? Or do you respect me as your ally?"
because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
So people once were calling me a terf, persecuting me just because I held some different opinion. After taking a break from social media, I've did some thinking, and I've came to accept this label as a part of who I am. I identify, inside and out, within the fibers if my soul, as a terf, and anyone who objects to this is being criticalphobic. After a while though, being so enshrined with terfness started exposing to me the many issues and hypocrisies terfs have, which I started rejecting. I just remembered I left my pizza in the oven, its burning uh
Eventually I realized that by rejecting trans people from society, I was arbitrarily drawing a line between what a person participating in society could be, completely discounting all the possible ways our biology I've so long revered could betray the labels our ancestors placed on ourselves. I stopped excluding trans people and started exclusively rejecting normal feminists, making me a ferf, until I walked outside and accidently talked to a guy and found they were normal. With no one familiar to belong to, I gave in and joined feminists and became a rfet.
Anyways do you want to hear about the time I almost drowned in a public water fountain
and the oscar for "best supporting anonymous bait" goes to....... whatever the fuck this is
hihi! i’m the anon that asked what your damijon looked like! AND THEY WERE SO CUTE OMGMG, but i’d also like to ask what your super sons damijon looks like as well? 🥹 tyty 🙏
hii thank you for that ask, and i'm glad you liked it!! here's a super sons ^^
Bam! Though ngl, I think Im gonna workshop Husk a little more, something feels not quite there yet with his design, its missing his hat or something idk :') <3
(also man is standing on a chair I promise he's shorter-)
i want to take your art, put it in a pot, fill that pot with broth, chicken, and noodles, boil it, then eat it with crackers, so my mouth can feel a sliver of the joy my eyes feel when i see your art
Had to try out that oddly specific recipe, but thank you! ^v^ -Bubbly💙