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wichols · 4 years

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Haruhi and Mori for the break up? Love your stories!

I am so sorry for anyone that reads this. It is gonna be a sad one. This was a tough one to write especially after reading such a sweet Mori x Haruhi fic. I hope that you are able to see the honor in his actions and his devotion to the one he loves the most. Thanks for the prompt!

Unyielding Devotion (Mori x Haruhi)

Mixed flora scents swirled around her as she made her way through the Morinozuka family botanical gardens. Sounds of light foot faults joined nature’s rhythmic symphony displayed around her. Vibrant hues of flowers and greenery lined the path leading to the secluded gazebo.

“Takashi? What’s wrong?” Her soften eyes searched his features, looking for any indication of his obvious discomfort.

Padding the open space of the bench beside him, “sit.”

“Taka?” Pleading eyes were transfixed on his furrowed brow. Gentle sounds of the stream fill the quiet air between them.

Hesitantly, he reached over enveloping her small hand in his, concentrating on the physical connection to give him strength. “I have loved you since the moment you walked through those doors. However, cliche that seems. From that point, my heart has only yearned for you more and more as we spent time together. I know I am not as animated as Tamaki or as cunning as Kyoya or lighthearted like the twins or cutsie like Mitsukuni but I have appreciated the ways you have noticed my forms of affection.” Shifting his gaze to look into her eyes, he continued. “Besides Mitsukuni, you are the only other person I have allowed past my walls into the center of my world. You understand my intentions and the way I am called to live my life dedicated to representing my family with honor and loyalty. Each day since the first, you have chosen to see past my flaws and allow me to grow into an even better person within the space of your heart. Dating you the past two years has singlehandedly been the greatest years of my life thus far. My college experience would be lackluster without you learning beside me.”

“Oh, you do not have to thank me for that. Sharing life with you is not a chore or something painful, it is a gift I freely give to you and one that you reciprocate back to me. You are allowed to grow and growing is not always linear or easy. Why are you saying all these things?”

“I just-”

“Are you- are you proposing? You know you don’t have to do anything grand, right? I will gladly accept even though we kind of agreed we would wait till I finished next year.” Haruhi’s eyes flicked between their hands and his eyes waiting for him to get down on one knee.

“I- uh..um. Just, uh, let me finish before you say anything else.” Giving her hand a small squeeze.

“Okay, continue.” Allowing herself a small smile, she was trying to tamper down her excited feelings.

“I want you to have the freedom to choose your destiny. To carve out your path and to explore everything this world has to offer you. There is nothing in this world that will stop you from accomplishing anything you put your mind too. Not money. Not a lack of connections. Not gender stereotypes. You are a strong and powerful person in your own right and it would be foolish of me to ask you to wait for me to return.”

“Return? What do you mean return?”

The looming pit in his stomach grew as he watched confusion sweep across her face. Her joyful demeanor dimmed as the uncertainty grew between them.

“I will have to be away for a while before I am able to complete the transition as Morinozuka heir. As tradition dictates, my father has given me my final transition orders to be executed effective the day after graduation.” His voice tapered off to a whisper.

“So you have to leave for a couple of weeks?” She questioned.

“Months.”“A couple of months?”

“Twelve to be exact.”

“You have to leave for a year! Why? Where?” Her voice switched between panic and anger as she fired off question after question.

Mori winced at her sudden outburst. Feeling the sudden emptiness of his hand he watched as she paced before him. Immediately he felt the air shift around him.

“I come out here and you say all these wonderful things about me. You fill my heart with love and then you drop that on me? What gives?!? Just a little bit ago I was under the impression that you were proposing not leaving for a year!” The usual tone of her voice was clipped with irritation.

“I was only told a week ago.”

“But you knew something like this was a possibility for a while now, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me until right now? Hell Takashi! Graduation is three weeks away! That means between right now and graduation we only hand a handful of days left to share with each other.” Furry morphed into sadness as she took her seat back next to him.

Bringing his hand to her face he angled her chin upwards to press a kiss into her lips. “I will love you even when I am away. I do not expect you to feel the same way about me now as you might after I return. In my absence, I want you to continue to focus on those passions that ignite your soul. When I return, if your feelings have not changed then we can rekindle our relationship. But if I return and you do not reciprocate those feelings that you once had for me then I understand.” Cradling her head in his hands he wiped away the silently falling tears.

“I don’t understand. Are you wanting to break up?” Tears now flowed freely between them speckling the concrete bench below them.

His heart seized, pained from the brokenness of her voice. “While I am away I cannot have any contact from the outside world. No phone calls, no letters, no visits with the exception of preparations for my internship at the conclusion of the monastery stay. I cannot keep you for myself if I am not even here. There is no honor in holding the ones we love most back from their potential just because of our own selfish reasons. It is because I love you that I have to release you. This is part of my journey. To understand the burden it takes to live a life fully dedicated to honor and obedience I must subject myself fully to the traditions of the namesake I bear.”

“So you are breaking up with me because of your love towards me?”

“Yes.”

“So at best, after the year is completed and our feelings have not changed we pick up where we left off.”

“And at worst our feelings for one another have changed and we go our separate ways. I become the head of the Morinozuka family at the conclusion of my wedding and you complete your degree, pass the bar, and prepare for your internship.”

“Oh, Taka.”

“I know. I’m so sorry Haru-love.”

Quiet sobs were shared between them as the elder Morinozuka watch the scene play before him. Oh Takashi, the one to whom your heart has claimed will not stray away from you. For she too has a love that is an all-consuming flame that burns brightly within her heart. Time will not change her devotion towards you just as your mother’s love did not falter during my absence. Take heart, my son. He let his gaze linger a while longer as they held each other close, weeping into the arms of the other.

#haruhi fujioka #mori x haru #Haruhi x Mori #takashi morinozuka #ouran host club #OHSHC #ohshc fanfiction #ouran high school host club #100 hits bingo

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planetbass · 4 years

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I FORGOT WHAT EMOJIS I WAS GONNA SEND BC OF WHAT U NAMED UR ASKBOX SO I HAD TO LOOK AT EM AGAIN DHJSSHDJ BUT HQ 🎥 💕 🏳️‍🌈

i accidentally xed out of this tab im going to commit kermit falling off roof vine. anyways im going to recreate the fuckign 500 words id already written best i can i guess. on the bright side, this draft will probably be much better than whatever nonsensical stuff i’d written before i accidentally thanosed it.

i Just changed my inbox name the other day but i dont remember what it is...... im sure it was something i thought was funny at like 3 am......

🎥 do you have any favorite scenes from your [special interest]?

SO fucking many. umm here r a few ig off the top of my head

the first thing that comes to mind is. the fucking scene where. theyre at training camp and hinata thinks there’s a . lost child among them or something and it’s fucking dark and scary and dramatic but it turns out it was just noya with his hair down (which added like 2 inches to his height)

any and all of the scenes in s2 with the 3rd gym squad (bokuto, kuroo, akaashi, hinata, tsukishima).

in the manga, kuroo’s backstory abt how his shyness was “worse than [kenma’s]”

literally ANY and ALL times kuroo and daishou interact because theyre so fucking funny

kuroo: h

daishou: i hope youf ucking die i hate you i h

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

tit i cant believe you DO this to me when you KNOW how much i already talk about him and love him....

i think it really comes down to the fact that i see a lot of myself in him. it seems weird at first maybe, but when it comes down to his core character... similar. i identify with him a lot. he’s also a huge comfort character. poor kuroo suffers under all of my vent writing. it’s surprising i dont kin him but you never know i guess.

idk if it still happens (it probably does tbh :unamused:) but he used to be characterized as like. extroverted sexy mccool guy by the fanbase and it was weird cuz kuroo is . A HUGE NERD. WHAT SORT OF KID, WHEN FIFTEEN YEARS OLD, DROPS THE TERM DOCOSAHEXAEONIC ACID INTO AN INSULT. his hair has no product in it to look Hot or anything it is not on purpose it is his natural, shitty bedhead from sleeping weird. he acts like a dumbass sometimes bc he’s a goofy guy, but he’s also SUPER smart. n people brush him off/think he’s joking when he says “i’m always this nice” but he IS he’s one of the most selfless characters. he’s really considerate and he helps people no matter what, even when he doesn’t have to - like when he helped tsukki during the training camp (not just on his technique, but he also helped him find his passion for volleyball) despite wanting to go up AGAINST tsukki’s team in nationals. not to mention that he wants karasuno to get better because he wants his team and karasuno to have an official match together to please his coach. AND despite winning against nohebi in the semifinals, when a group of strangers bash nobehi for their slimy tactics to scrape up points and gain the favor of the refs, kuroo DEFENDS nohebi even though he didn’t have to and when he has personal rivalry against their team’s captain. i will also stand by the fact that he’s anxiety disordered™. he just feels like a very real character to me n . i just love him a lot.

🏳‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you?

yeah! a lot!

my biggest is that kuroo had/has selective mutism (n ppl can also interpret it as autism ! i just prefer sm bc thats what i got). that’s like. the One i will live and die by and it’s another reason why i really love him so much and that i see myself in him more than anyone else. as a teen and almost-adult i see him as still having some residual social anxiety due to the childhood disorder, and he’s hella depressed as well cuz it be like that. also for self-projection reasons i like arokuroo (i have that url stolen lol). ive never had a distinct sexuality headcanon for him, either pan or gay in my thoughts, but also since i see myself in him its hard for me to. do that ig?? idk lol

bokuto has adhd. i really support that one as well. he’s also ace!! he’s the ace ace!! i also like to see him as somewhat arospec, but in the sense that he’s just not really interested in that sort of thing? but he is still just... head over heels for akaashi.

akaashi has general anxiety n some social anxiety and also the pression. he’s GAY babey . ALSO he’s a he/him non-binary

kenma social anxiety babie. i mean, that’s literally canon. he has social anxiety. he’s also demi n trans.

daishou is bi. i also write him as having paranoia.

ask me abt any character n i can probably spit something out for u regarding lgbt headcanons. there’s too many to cover.

#thank you....#ask game #long post #toshidaves #ask

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baconsoupforthesoul · 5 years

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The Ink Demonth- Day 3- Stuck

Stuck Here Without You

A/N: I’m not exactly satisified with this one but I was a little stuck (heh) on what to write about for this day. So have some Henry contemplating I guess. Regardless, I still hope you enjoy~

“If anyone finds this, my name’s Henry. And I’ve been trapped far below Joey Drew Studios, a man I used to work for. There are crazy things after me down here. Monsters. Demons. Angels. And right now two of them are holding me prisoner. I don’t know how to get out of here, but there’s more. There’s a hidden secret hiding in the shadows. I just felt like I’m being watched. There’s something more in here. If anyone finds this, you must not-Hold on…They’re coming back.”

Henry quickly slide the tape recorder under his cot as his captors came in. Luckily they didn’t pay him any attention, both the angel and the Boris with the mechanical arm looking exhausted as they dragged themselves into their safehouse. Henry laid back down and closed his eyes, feigning sleep but keeping his ears open.

“It just… it just all leads in circles Tom.” The Angel sighed as Henry heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. “All we got for our troubles were a couple cans of soup. I’m really starting to think that there really is no way-” The Angel stopped mid sentence and Henry risked opening one eye to see what was going on. Through the metal grate he could see the Angel sitting in a chair with the one she called Tom resting a hand on her shoulder. The cartoon wolf gave her a reassuring squeeze and she smiled up at him.

“Oh Tom,” The Angel got up and pulled him into a hug. The wolf wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Suddenly, his ears perked up and he turned his head to look over at Henry. Seeing the animator watching them, he glared at him and Henry quickly shut his eyes although he knew it was pointless to fake sleeping at this point. He still couldn’t quite figure his captors out. He was wary to trust them, considering both his past experiences with “angels” and with Tom’s less than friendly demeanor. However, they both seemed like good people from the way they interacted with one another. They both seemed just as lost and stuck as he was. There was nothing he could do right now though, as he tried to will himself to sleep.

“It’s me, it’s Henry. It’s been a while since I last recorded. Mostly I’ve been spending my days doodling, passing the times the best I can. I heard my captors arguing today. It seems that they still don’t know what to make me. I guess that makes sense. Because I do not know what to make of them either. Times like this I wish Boris was still with me… He doesn’t say much Boris but, he was a good friend to have. I miss him. I just couldn’t save him… But I promise… I will get out of the studio… if it’s the last thing I do…”

The pencil that Alice had managed to find for him was a godsend. After being stuck with nothing to do in his cell for days the angel finally took pity on him and found him some drawing supplies. Having something to do made his time here less boring but Henry was still fed up with this place. He sighed as he twirled his pencil in his hand, unsure what he wanted to draw next. He looked over to see Tom tinkering with something on his workbench, the cartoon wolf occasionally lifting his head to glare at Henry. The animator turned back to his page as he remembered Tom’s friendlier look alike. He idly started sketching out Boris, the one he had befriended not that long ago. Henry smiled softly as he remembered his time in Boris’s safe house. While that had been pretty boring too, Boris had been much better company and he really enjoyed playing cards with him.

The more he sketched though, the more he thought of what became of his friend. Henry frowned as he remembered what that deranged “Alice” had done to his poor friend. He wonders if there had even been a chance that he could have saved him, or if by the time he had woken up in that wrecked elevator that it was already too late. “Alice” had probably just been toying with him from the start, probably having already taken what she wanted from the wolf toon and turning him into what Henry was forced to put down. Henry blinked and looked down at his drawing. He realized as he had been spacing out that he had Xed out Boris’s eyes. Hand shaking, Henry put down his pencil and held his head in his hands. His only friend in this damn place, and he had been forced to kill him. Henry took a deep breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check. That fight with Boris had kept him up most nights while he had been stuck here in this safehouse. He’d wake up in a sweat, images of Boris’s prone body melting away still on the back of his eyelids. He’s sure if he ever escapes this place that it will continue to haunt him for a long time. Boris had done nothing but help him since they met. He gave him a safe place to rest, offered him food, stuck by him as they tried to navigate out of this studio. And Henry… he hadn’t even been able to keep his friend safe from that damn angel. Some friend he had been. Henry’s breath shuddered in his chest as a few stray tears coursed down his checks. As Henry wiped the moisture from his face, he noticed that he was being watched.

Henry turned to see Tom was looking at him again, and for once the cartoon wolf wasn’t glaring at him. His expression seemed curious, like this small display of emotion from Henry had him deep in thought, as if he didn’t know what to make of it. When he noticed Henry staring back though, the wolf let out a huff and turned back to whatever he was tinkering with. While the look he had given Henry wasn’t exactly sympathetic, it wasn’t hostile either. Not sure if it was too optimistic if him to consider that progress, Henry picked up his pencil and kept drawing.

“This may be my last chance to record a message, I’m pretty sure he saw me talking into this thing, He probably won’t let me keep it. Not much left to say except… Linda, I miss you and I love you so much. Coming back to this old place well… it kind of reminds me of how much I’ve gained. I feel like there are so many questions that need answering, so many things that don’t make any sense. If anyone hears this, if you make it out, don’t ever return, because the Ink Demon will find you.”

“Seriously? What danger is a damn tape recorder?” Henry complained as Tom walked off with said tape recorder. “What did ya think I was gonna do with it? Plan my daring escape on it?” The wolf just huffed as he placed it in one of the drawers in his work bench. Alice turned her head away from the drawing she was doing on the wall and bite her lip. From the look on her face it seemed she thought that what Tom was doing was a bit much but she didn’t want to fight him on it. Henry sighed as he flopped back onto his cot, rubbing a hand over his tired face. He was getting real sick of this place. He had been stuck in this damn cell for weeks now and the homesickness was worse than ever. He wanted to yell, hit something, break something, anything to relieve him of all this pent up energy and aggression that was building up from being trapped here. Not just in this cramped cell but this whole demented studio. He knew that his captors would never let him out if he did something like that though, so he was stuck biding his time until they felt comfortable enough to trust him, whenever that would be.

Oh god, what did Linda think even happened to him? He’s been gone for several weeks now, has she called the cops maybe? He really hopes the authorities don’t end up at this place, he can’t even begin to imagine what would happen. Linda must be worried sick though. Henry hated to think of what she was feeling right now. He wanted nothing more than to get out of this godforsaken place and just hold his wife in his arms. He physically ached from missing her so much, like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart. He missed her smile, her laugh, her hair, her voice, her everything. Henry didn’t try to fight the silent tears that ran down his face. He was too tired to care about showing weakness at this point.

“Who is Linda?” Henry startled when he suddenly heard Alice next to him.“Huh?” Henry rubbed the tears off his checks as he gave Alice a confused look. “How do you know about-”

“I overheard you, when you were recording that last tape.” Alice pulled up a chair that had been sitting in the corner. She sat in the chair backwards with her arms and head resting on the back of it as she looked at Henry. “You said you loved her, and that you missed her. She’s someone from outside of this place, right?”

“Yeah. Linda is… she’s my wife.” Henry’s voice quivered, overcome with his memories as he twisted the ring on his finger.

“I see.” Alice replied softly. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, punctured only by Henry’s hitched breaths as he tried to cry as quietly as possible. “What was she like?” Henry looked over at Alice again. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Alice assured him. “I know it hurts to be away from her but… I thought maybe you might want to talk about her. She means so much to you and your memories of her… that’s all you have of her with you right now, isn’t it?”

“I suppose… you have a point.” Henry conceded. “Well, if you’re interested…” Alice scooted her chair up and Henry finally cracked a small smile. “How do I even begin to start describing Linda? She’s a wonderful woman and I am a very lucky man to be married to her. I remember when we first met she-”

And Henry went on for hours as Alice happily listened to him ramble on about his wife. At one point they took a break for her to make them some food and Henry kept on talking between mouthfuls of soup. Alice even burst out laughing when, in his haste to tell her about the time Linda threatened to come into the studio and beat Joey with her frying pan, he dribbled soup down his chin. Eventually, Tom returned and his conversation with Alice ended, but Henry felt the best he’d ever felt since he had been stuck here in this cell. Talking about Linda reignited his motivation to escape from this awful place. He would see her again, he refused to accept anything less.

#the ink demonth #bendy and the ink machine #batim #henry stein #allison pendle #thomas connor #boris the wolf #linda stein #henry x linda #spacy writes

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asmodeusmorelikeassmodeus · 5 years

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Shadowhunters 3x17 Commentary

I love the beginning of this episode it’s so chill and domestic even with everything going on, the song fits the mood perfectly

Alec, you’re pretty bad at lying

So…the Institute has a head chef who’s capable of better food than pancakes?

I’m sorry but the ring is so UGLY but that also fits perfectly because it’s the Lightwoods and it was family tradition to be boring until Alec and Izzy were born

I probably shouldn’t giggle at Jonathan in that muffler thingy

@ the writers: could you please stop throwing epic but heartless clace lines at us without ever giving us any kind of development of their relationship?? Like…are they even dating at the moment??? Because you’ve never given us anything that looks like a relationship except cliché lines that all account to ‘we were meant to be’

I don’t know if it’s on purpose but since they threw the incest stuff at us I see everything Jonathan says to Clary as flirty and se*xed-up and that makes me highly uncomfortable

Jonathan falls for the oldest trick in the world. But then again, he probably didn’t get to watch that many movies in Edom

Oh yay flashbacks

I actually really like this Edom set but I kind of think that Asmodeus would fit the décor better lol

Okay so…how exactly did it happen that Jonathan was so burned he looked like demonic burned lasagna man??? Because that’s only like…half of his face. Or was he burned when he came to earth?

Exposition Lilith

Izzy doesn’t have a second

I don’t know why but that whole “I’d do anything for Clary” thing Simon has going on is getting pretty old

Alec is A BIG MOOD

This still is not a plan. It’s the beginning of the plan, it’s around 30% of a plan. But they still go through with it and funnily so it kind of works out in the end.

Clave prisons are…charming.

HI HELEN!!!

Oh yay, muffled screams coming from a menacing door this is great

Exposition guard man

Still would have enjoyed Raphael’s character a lot more without the addiction plot with Izzy that the writers and showrunners just can’t let go of

I thought these were telepathy rings?!?! Why are they suddenly talking out loud??! Especially Izzy??? Wtf???

This is such a stupid way of hinting at Aline’s, Alec’s and Izzy’s friendship, that comparison doesn’t work

Now THAT’s how you do a good parabatai scene.

“THIS IS NOT JUST A PHASE, MOM!!!”

And again…exposition Lilith!! Ya know, if you’re only going to use her to tell the viewers random information they need without it making any sense you can just as well not have her on the show

I knew we didn’t see the last of this Aldertree asshole

I really enjoy Helen in this

I want to puke as soon as I see his face and now Izzy has to be nice to him to keep him distracted. Ew.

How exactly was she able to save these sketchbooks after her whole flat burned down in season 1? And in such good condition, no less.

Okay now I’m really confused. So. How much older than Clary is Jonathan?? Because he was grown in the flashbacks and she’s talking about a dream she had of him when she was younger. And okay, maybe his demon blood keeps him from aging further but I also don’t think that there was such a big gap between Jocelyn’s first and second child??

And now Simon will proceed to freely walk around the whole Gard and make a lot of noise and have nobody come to get him because suddenly all the guards are gone and there are also no surveillance cameras or anything

This little thing with Magnus and the grey hair is so unbelievably cliché

“Don’t let him out of your sight” WELL….

Of COURSE Iris is there

Am I the only one who thinks that this whole “taking away their demon blood and their powers” thing the Clave does to downworlders is…really lazy writing? Because exactly the same has happened to Magnus already…twice I might add. Like. Couldn’t you have thought of some different kind of torture or whatever?? Or given Magnus a different plot?? I feel like all we’ve been dealing with concerning the Downworld is downworlders losing their powers in some kind of way. It gets boring after a while. And also kind of plays down the repercussions of Magnus losing his magic because he’s not the only one it happened to?

Victor Aldertree is both the worst and best villain this show ever made

I REALLY love Helen

Bye Iris I guess

This whole plot is so anticlimactic. Like. They solved the whole thing in one episode. Everything went way too smoothly. That’s what happens when you focus the time of the episodes on things that don’t bring the plot forward and then realize you have to solve everything in one episode. This is a mess. The Clave plot was there for a few episodes but all that ever happened were 20 seconds of talking about the new thing Izzy found out and that’s it.

YES KNOCK HIM OUT HE DESERVES IT LOCK HIM UP

*giggles obnoxiously about the Heline scene*

But…especially in the case of vampires, if they wanted to be a vampire again they could just be turned again, right? For them it’s pretty easy to get their demon blood back if they wanted to

Jace’s little grin when Alec excuses himself is like “YEAH MAN YOU GO MAN :DDD”

Sizzy is cute but pretty far from ‘We’re totally in love’ so…how they’re gonna do that is still a mystery to me.

How does Luke Baines always manage to make me feel sorry for Jonathan, he’s honestly just a little boy who was thrown around, left alone, and tortured all his life. Of course he’d latch onto the little hope for love he has with Clary.

Oh boy…Magnus is late…that can’t mean something good.

Oh Magnus…

Magnus Bane shading every Shadowhunters writer who ever was

Okay that absolutely broke my heart but in my opinion, this was way more important than a proposal would have ever been in the current situation. They needed to have this talk and Magnus needed to open up and see that Alec would still be there for him. And Alec made him stay and held him and that’s a way more important bond than a ring on the finger could have ever been. Magnus needed this and Alec needed this and their relationship needed this and even if it hurt like HELL, this scene is one of the biggest proves of their love there ever was.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters commentary #shadowhunters tv #season 3B #3x17 #this is my second try of posting this to make it appear in the tags #sighhhhhh #yes I skipped a lot of episodes because I was busy graduating and trying to organize everything #but I'll try to do these for all upcoming episodes #sizzy

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goldenblade17 · 4 years

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Today is the date of the death anniversary of the youngest daughter of Imam Hussain (a.s), Ruqqaiya (s.a), who died in the dark dungeons of Damascus burnt, bruised, bleeding, tired, and all alone. At the age of four.

And yet I don't know what to do for her. In her honour. She deserved the world, but the world could never deserve her. but there's still so much I could do. Even anything small would be something. But I can't think of anything. Charity? I don't have any money to my name. Some special vow correlating to me becoming a better person? I never follow up on those because I'm horrible. Listening to a good lecture and/or educating myself? Sure, but that's not really anything. It's less than the bare minimum.

I love them so much. Sometimes it's hard for me to comprehend, and sometimes I get my feelings mixed up with feelings I have for other people, which are usually not particularly pleasant. But then in these moments that happen more and more frequently, it is the most precious epiphany I could ever have. I remember how I realized during the last night of my walk during Arbae'en 12 months ago just how much I really loved my Imam, and it was just such a sudden supernova in me that I was filled with pure euphoria and serendipity the whole night. It was amazing. I'm not very good with words, or expression. So I'm very lucky that the only people that I adore beyond comprehension and whose opinion I genuinely value, are people who know the true words of my heart without me having to clumsily say anything. How blessed am I to have ended up in this position?

Most people wouldn't understand, but I am genuinely beyond caring because I've made a list of all the people I want in my life and as it turns out the only people I would believe for everything and anything are, surprise surprise, the Ahlulbayt (a.s). My Family, maybe. I definitely don't deserve to call them that. But I don't deserve any of what I've been given in my blessed and short 17 years of life. So... maybe it's ok? Everybody needs a Family, right?

It's depressing seeing all these people go on the walk this year, knowing I'm stuck listening to useless school chatter and learning all about the difference between PED and XED. I realise now how snobbish I must sound in this post, but does it matter if nobody besides my Family is going to read it? It's just frustrating when ny worst fear is arrogance, and I know how easy it is to fall into a habit of self-praise and assurance in feeling as if you know what you're doing. It's a bit painful constantly battling intense doubt and feeling bad about everything I do, but I find it to be much more preferable to arrogance. I know the Ahlulbayt (a.s) don't like that, but I'm stuck because I'd much rather be anguished and full of self-doubt rather than comfortable and prideful. Being satisfied with what I do and being proud of my "accomplishments" means I'm satisfied with where I am and that makes it a hundred times harder to forward as a person. But don't take my word for it, random stranger on the internet. I'm the last person you should take advice from, unless it has something to do with religion, then maybe I could shove a few books in your hands or something.

Anyways. I should go get the Azakhana ready in time for the majlis, take a sjower, do my namaz, maybe actually do something worthwhile. Loving somebody is useless if you can't act on it positively, right? Goodnight, Siri, for now. This has become less about the small things that bring me happiness and more about the biggest things, because that's really the only thing I want happiness from now.

#should i change my blog title or #omg this year's nohas were great i'm o v e r j o y e d #i got some new toys for muh cat and he's also o v e r j o y e d #btw i say Family and not family not out of a need to look cringy but bc i have the creativity of a yg songwriter ?#also courage the cowardly dog was incredibly disturbing why was i allowed to watch that as a baby #at least now i know i wasn't a psychopath kid with horrifying daydreamd but i was just... influenced (?)#so yay #anyways bye gotta dash #bts #bc i have jk's picture as pfp ok i don't need reason to tag them leave me alone >:(

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fatal-error-blog · 6 months

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Poll: Which comic should I start working on first?

Okay so I've taken some time to get a bit organized and remember where I left things off. For the story to progress, I need to complete Chapter Five and also the first part of a new side comic called Bluescreen. It doesn't matter which one gets completed first but both need to get done before Chapter Six can start. So as a thank you for everyone's immense patience, if you'd like to vote on which one should get done first, here's your chance :) A little info about your options: Finish Chapter Five - Last we left off, our two glitchy brothers were about to try finding a Papyrus within Aftertale, per Patch's suggestion. So it was a bit of a cliffhanger. The rest of Chapter Five continues to explores a bit more of their relationship together. Release Bluescreen Part 1 - It's been a while since we've heard about US sans, specifically the one stuck in Error's Anti-Void. This side comic explores a bit more about his and Fatal's time together during Chapter Two. Most importantly, it's told from US sans' perspective. Which might change yours as well. Like I said, both will get done, but if there's one you want to see first, let me know! I'll check the poll in a few days and announce the winner. Happy voting! https://poll-maker.com/poll4993115x17584059-153

#xed has something to say #poll #chapter five #bluescreen #i'm honestly excited for both so i dont mind which one wins

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smigssig-blog · 7 years

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Some of Kip Kinkel’s writing

have just killed my parents! I don't know what is happening. I love my mom and dad so much. I just got two felonies on my record. My parents can't take that! It would destroy them. The embarrassment would be too much for them. They couldn't live with themselves. I'm so sorry. I am a horrible son. I wish I had been aborted. I destroy everything I touch. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I didn't deserve them. They were wonderful people. It's not their fault or the fault of any person, organization, or television show. My head just doesn't work right. God damn these VOICES inside my head. I want to die. I want to be gone. But I have to kill people. I don't know why. I am so sorry! Why did God do this to me. I have never been happy. I wish I was happy. I wish I made my mother proud. I am nothing! I tried so hard to find happiness. But you know me I hate everything. I have no other choice. What have I become? I am so sorry

I sit here all alone. I am always alone. I don't know who I am. I want to be something I can never be. I try so hard every day. But in the end, I hate myself for what I've become.

Every single person I know means nothing to me. I hate every person on this earth. I wish they could all go away. You all make me sick. I wish I was dead.

The only reason I stay alive is because of hope. Even though I am repulsive and few people know who I am, I still feel that things might, maybe, just a little bit, get better.

I don't understand any fucking person on this earth. Some of you are so weak, mainly, that a four year old could push you down. I am strong, but my head just doesn't work right. I know I should be happy with what I have, but I hate living.

Every time I talk to her, I have a small amount of hope. But then she will tear it right down. It feels like my heart is breaking. But is that possible. I am so consumed with hate all of the time. Could I ever love anyone? I have feelings, but do I have a heart that's not black and full of animosity?

I know everyone thinks this way sometimes, but I am so full of rage that I feel I could snap at any moment. I think about it everyday. Blowing the school up or just taking the easy way out, and walk into a pep assembly with guns. In either case, people that are breathing will stop breathing. That is how I will repay all you mother fuckers for all you put me through.

I feel like everyone is against me, but no one ever makes fun of me, mainly because they think I am a psycho. There is one kid above all others that I want to kill. I want nothing more than to put a hole in his head. The one reason I don't: Hope. That tomorrow will be better. As soon as my hope is gone, people die.

I ask myself why I hate more than anyone else. I don't know. But my head and heart want him dead. He only knows who I am through reputation, and I know he is scared of me. He should be. One bad day, and there will be a sawed off shotgun in his face or five pounds of Semtex under his bed.

I need help. There is one person that could help, but she won't. I need to find someone else. I think I love her, but she could never love me. I don't know why I try.

Oh fuck. I sound so pitiful. People would laugh at this if they read it. I hate being laughed at. But they won't laugh after they're scraping parts of their parents, sisters, brothers, and friends from the wall of my hate.

Please. Someone, help me. All I want is something small. Nothing big. I just want to be happy.

End. New day. Today of all days, I ask her to help me. I was shot down. I feel like my heart has been ripped open and ripped apart. Right now, I'm drunk, so I don't know what the hell is happening to me.

It is clear that no one will help me. Oh God, I am so close to killing people. So close.

I gave her all I have, and she just threw it away. Why? Why did God just want me to be in complete misery? I need to find more weapons. My parents are trying to take away some of my guns! My guns are the only things that haven't stabbed me in the back.

My eyes hurt. They hurt so bad. They feel like they are trying to crawl out of my head. Why aren't I normal? Help me. No one will. I will kill every last mother fucking one of you. The thought of you is still racing in my head. I am too drunk to make sense.

Every time I see your face, my heart is shot with an arrow. I think she will say yes, but she doesn't, does she? She says, "I don't know". The three most fucked up words in the English language.

I want you to feel this, be this, taste this, kill this. Kill me. Oh God, I don't want to live. Will I see it to the end? What kind of dad would I make? All humans are evil. I just want to end the world of evil.

I don't want to see, hear, speak or feel evil, but I can't help it. I am evil. I want to kill and give pain without a cost. And there is no such thing. We kill him - we killed him a long time ago. Anyone that believes in God is a fucking sheep.

If there was a God, he wouldn't let me feel the way I do. ....Love isn't real, only hate remains. Only hate.

Love Sucks

No, I don't believe in love at first sight because love is an evil plot to make people buy alcohol and firearms. When you love someone something it is always taken away from you. I also would like to add that I hate each and every one of you. Because everything I touch turns to shit. I think if you think you fall in love with someone at first sight it might just be lust. Love at first sight is only in movies. Where the people in the movies are better than you. That is why you go to a pone [pawn] shop and buy an AK-15 (Probably meant Ar-15) because you are going to execute every last mother fucking one of you. If I had a heart it would be gray.

It is easier to hate than love. Because there is much more hate and misery in the world than there is love and peace. Some people say that you should love everyone. But that is impossible. Look at our history it is full of death, depression, rape, wars and diseases. I also do not believe in love at first sight. But I do believe in hate at first sight. Therefore love is a much harder feeling to experience.

I really wouldn't know how to answer this question because my cold black heart has never and never will experience true love. I can tell you one about love. It does more harm than good. I plan to live in a big black hole. My firearms and [illegible] will be the only things to fight my isolation. I would also like to point out Love is a horrible thing. It makes things kill and hate.

I will hunt you down and put a hole in your head. With explosives. You hear me. Power to the shampoo. RIP [sad face with Xed out eyes]. You must DIE.

[Teacher's response: "I'm concerned??"]

I have spent days trying to figure out what I want to say. I have crumpled up dozens of pieces of paper and disregarded even more ideas. I have thought about what I could say that might make people feel just a little bit better. But I have come to the realization that it really doesn't matter what I say. Because there is nothing I can do to take away any of the pain and destruction I have caused. I absolutely loved my parents and had no reason to kill them. I had no reason to dislike, kill or try to kill anyone at Thurston. I am truly sorry that this has happened. I have gone back in my mind hundreds of times and changed one detail, one small event so this never would have happened. I wish I could. I take full responsibility for my actions. These events have pulled me down into a state of deterioration and self-loathing that I didn't know existed. I am very sorry for everything I have done, and for what I have become.

#kip kinkel #tcc #thurston shooting

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xedramon · 4 years

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Etsy Shop Update!

All buttons have been restocked, particularly the Cross and Fresh buttons that have been out of stock for a little while. I hope to have more things up within the next few months as Indypop gets closer ^_^ But for now, buttons!

Also the Cross buttons now have a spiffy new background! I’m really pleased with how much cooler they look, now :)

Feel free to grab one if you like!

https://www.etsy.com/shop/PotatoArtsByXedra

#potato arts by xedra #etsy shop #xed has something to say #cross #merch #underverse

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fernlomwrites · 7 years

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Creationaria: Chapter 9, The Council Meets

“Alright, Council of Creators meeting is now in session. “ CQ cleared her throat and ruffled her pink hair.

Sitting with her at the head table were Jakei, Xedramon, and Yugogeer. Sitting on the center of the table was an impossibly small white cat.

“Hey Jass?” Xed poked the cat. “Mind taking your seat now?”

The cat yawned “yah yah sure. “ It smiled and happily jumped off the desk and took its place amongst the congregation.

“Alright everyone “ CQ picked up her notes “first on the agenda, the Anon village attacks. Matron, do you have any leads on what is happening?”

Matron stood at her position as head of the Peace Corp. “yes CQ, “

CQ smiled wide, showing off her iconic tooth gap. “What is it?”

“It’s one of Fernlom’s characters. His Ego Parsure.” Matron stood proud, smiling back at the leaders of the delegation.

“Which one is Parsure again dude?” Yugo asked, lowering her swag sunglasses to look at Matron.

“The one who represents writer’s block and depression. “ Matron replied.

“Do we know why he’s attacking Anons?” Jakei asked.

“Unfortunately not. But we might have someone who does. Chanter, please come forward. “ Matron stepped aside as Chanter and Dransnake walked into place

Chanter smiles and respectfully bows to the leaders. They smile and wave back.

“Council of Creators, I am Chanter, I represent the joy and creativity in Fern. “ The air around Chanter was comfortably cold, the kind of cold that made you hug the nearest person to you. He smelt like peppermint and pine trees. Snow softly drifted around him.

“I know not what Parsure is doing what he is doing, but I come to warn you, to plead with you. He is not the only threat. I know not what Ausham, or Fern himself have planned, but I do know it is something vile”

Dran stepped forward. “I caught Parsure attacking an Anon village, Napsta was just attacked by Fern and one of his creations, and no one knows where Ausham is. “

Jass looked up and walked over, climbing up Chanters and resting on his shoulder. “Do you know where Parsure and Fern are?”

Dran sighed. “Not right now, but we know where Parsure is going to be.”

“Where?” from the crowd Alaina called out.

“At the old Ink factory on 15th street this friday at 9:00 P/M.” Dran answered.

“We have a plan in set, “ Matron spoke out. “Me, Dran, two of Fern’s good creations, and four powerful Anon’s will meet Parsure at the Ink Factory and arrest him. We will interrogate him and find out what Fern has planned, and why they are doing this”

CQ nods. “All in favor of Matrons plan say ay. All opposed say nay”

The congregation spoke out a unified Ay.

CQ smiled “you have the O.K. Matron, gather your team and bring Parsure in.”

Matron nods “Will do Crayon Queen”’

Hey look, famous people.

Blogs included:

@loverofpiggies

@jakei95

@xedramon

@yugogeer12

@thegrinningkitten

@alainaprana,

@matronofthevoid

@dransnake

@fernlom

@napstaghost-with-the-most

#Creationaria #my work #my writing #loverofpiggies #jakei95 #xedramon #yugogeer12 #thegrinningkitten #alainaprana #matronofthevoid #Dransnake #fernlom #napstaghost-with-the-most

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withasmoothroundstone · 7 years

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I’ve been struggling with how hard it is to hold onto full consciousness that I’m a human being equal to other human beings.

And understand that this is confusing. So when I write about decisions I am making, don’t take them as judgements on people who don’t or can’t make similar decisions. And don’t assume that I am even totally certain I’m right -- I’m pretty sure I’m right about the core idea, but the details are confusing as hell.

In a lot of this, I feel like I’m in some kind of freefall. People have dealt with similar things for a long time, and I’ve gone out of my way to seek them out and learn as much as I can. But a lot of the learning is necessarily by analogy. And there are paths I’m trying to take -- I’m certain others have taken them before me, but if any of them were able to write more than the most cursory maps, I haven’t been able to find them.

Which is why it becomes important to record even my own flailing in the dark. Because maybe -- it’s been the case before -- maybe it will help someone who’s flailing around in here with me, perhaps freefalling in the same place but we’re all unseen to each other, only sensed indirectly.

I have been writing a lot of things, none of which are finished yet. I can’t really help the length. I’m sorry in advance to anyone who (like me, believe it or not) has trouble reading long things.

Also understand why I’ve put photos throughout this post in various places. Some things I can only say that way, and I find it important to remind people of there being physical real humanity behind all these words. The words are just an attempt to convey things that words can only point to without getting there. So you’ll also see things like this (and if I could do image descriptions I wouldn’t need the images -- all I can say for any of them is that they show my face as I’m writing different parts of this, which by the way was not written in order):

Being sick is a weird thing. It renders me vulnerable to all manner of nonsense. But it also pulls down my defenses against reality. We’ve all got defenses against reality. I’m perhaps more aware of mine than a lot of people, but still can only pull them down at will for short periods of time. (We’ve also all got defenses against unreality -- and those are incredibly important. Being sick makes it hard to defend against either one, so what happens is always a mixed bag.)

Right now can be almost unbearably painful. Because I am aware of my full humanity, or as aware of it as I can generally get. And that means being aware of how much of an unperson I am, and others like me are. And by the way -- if you see me as a person because I’ve proven it to you, but people otherwise just like me who haven’t proven it are not people to you, I’m not actually a person to you either. Real people’s personhood is not conditional.

I’ve been thinking about a lot of things for awhile, a long while, and not been able to articulate a single one in a full post. This is the first attempt that I think will actually make it.

But what prompted this post in particular.

There’s a lot of people in my life who vary a lot in how much I’m considered a person to them.

There’s one person who, while they connect with me in certain areas of life we have in common, I’m still pretty clearly not a person to them.

I was thinking how they are a person to me. How I use the areas where we can connect to try to understand them. How I am always trying to understand other people. Not just intellectually but to have genuine compassion wherever thy are at and whatever they are doing.

And. Okay. I’m disabled. They’re either nondisabled or at least... not in a way I know of, and not in a way that puts them at the mercy of the systems I depend on for survival.

And the most common roadmaps followed by people in this corner of the online world, would tell me to just ignore our common humanity. To make things even more adversarial, more us-vs.-them, than they started out. To protect my own and to hell with everyone else unless they did exactly as I wanted and expected, even if what I wanted and expected changed constantly and unpredictably.

But that’s not a viable way for anything to actually work.

And also...

Okay one of my posts is about a concept I’m semi-borrowing from Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wind In The Door: Xing. In A Wind In The Door, there are evil creatures called Echthroi who try to X people -- to erase their entire existence across time and space, at the deepest level.

And I don’t accept all the parameters in that book. I don’t think real Xing is possible. But I think people try to X people all the time. I think disabled people are highly subject to Xing and this is highly socially acceptable. I also think that even attempted Xing, whether small-scale or large-scale, is the worst thing a human being can do to another human being. And the fact that it’s socially acceptable in many contexts doesn’t make things better.

Xing is about trying to erase your soul, or pretending your soul never existed. It doesn’t matter if you believe in no souls one soul, many souls, you frigging know what I mean, the part of you most connected to reality, the parts of you that make you real, the seat of your personhood, whatever you want to call it. So please don’t bullshit me about my language being wrong or your own discomfort at what you see as a religious concept. These things are hard enough to write about without having to second-guess every other word I write.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter what your mind or your heart tell you. Your soul knows when you’re being Xed. And it screams. It fights to be taken as real. No matter what choices you make. No matter what cognitive abilities you have. No matter how emotionally anesthetized you think you are. Your soul responds.

And the thing about Xing is, it doesn’t just work one way. When someone tries to X someone else, or participates in Xing someone else (often as part of a larger pattern that guides their behavior, such as working at an institution), they end up Xing themselves. I don’t know how it works, I only know that it works like that every time. When someone tries to X someone, the only winners in the end are the Echthroi.

So my instinct towards compassion for people regardless of what they’ve done, is not wrong. And understand -- by compassion, I mean love, I mean empathy. I don’t mean excusing people. I don’t mean forgiving people, although that can happen. I don’t mean putting me or anyone else in danger. I don’t mean sparing their feelings or avoiding the harsh reality of what they are doing. I don’t mean acting like compassion for them is more important than compassion for the people they are Xing. I don’t mean talking endlessly about how ~understandable~ it is for a mother to commit premeditated murder against her disabled child, how people are supposedly wrong to be disgusted and angry. I don’t mean ignoring who ultimately has power over who else. Don’t get me wrong here.

I do mean that recognizing our common humanity is ultimately vital for all of us.

And when I say that Xing Xes the Xer, that’s universal. So if I respond to a person who participates in my Xing, by trying to turn the tables and X her, then I am Xing myself as well. I lose touch with my own humanity. I lose touch with the humanity of others. If we, as a group, respond to the constant threat of being Xed by trying to X the people Xing us, then we are destroying ourselves. We are aiding in our own Xing. We are losing touch with the humanity of everyone, and this also means that when we are in positions of power, we will participate in the Xing of other groups of people.

And the only things that win in such a scenario are the Echthroi.

No amount of theory, rationalization, justification, will change this situation. This is a fundamental property of reality. Encouraging people to find elaborate ways to ignore that encourages people to inadvertently destroy themselves.

And these are things I found out when I listened to my soul begging not to be Xed.

None of this stops the fact that a struggle will have to happen in some form or another.

But it changes the shape of that struggle.

It changes what is acceptable and what is not.

Because I refuse to participate in the worst crime against humanity that exists. Even if it is a crime that will never be a crime, that can’t be legislated, judged, heard evidence for. It’s still real.

And nothing can get away from that. There are certain things that are just part of how the world works, and even if we can’t make sense of them, we can’t make them go away when it seems convenient. I say seems convenient, because I’m convinced that even when Xing people seems right, feels right, it’s never right, and will never solve anything for real.

I don’t know how to go forward.

I don’t know how to fight injustice without making it worse.

I don’t think there is or can be a formula or set of rules for this.

All I know is that my friend heard someone screaming for help across the street.

And they could not help this woman.

She’s in a nursing home.

My friend doesn’t trust the cops at all -- but still almost called them to make sure this woman isn’t being physically or sexually abused.

And all I knew was I was suddenly terrified.

And I was reminded of something.

A woman in a nursing home.

She screamed for help every time I saw her. Stood in her room, alone, yelling “HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP! HELP!”

A worker at the nursing home felt sorry for her. Told me, “That poor woman, she has dementia.”

The worker was participating in that woman’s Xing the moment they made her situation one of sad inevitability, her cries for help solely the product of a malfunctioning body.

And I feared if the police went to that place, with this other woman screaming for help, they would possibly find no evidence of physical harm and would conclude “she has dementia”.

And I remembered the woman from my childhood visits to nursing homes.

And I remembered that she didn’t just have dementia.

She lived in a small room with nothing to make it hers.

Her door was open but she had virtually no human interaction.

And she lived in an institution. Institutions always X people.

So she was being Xed in so many ways.

And her soul felt it and responded. You could hear it in her voice. There is a sound to a soul that is refusing to be erased.

I don’t know -- and honestly don’t care on one level -- how much she understood intellectually. Whether she knew where she was. Whether she knew who she was.

I don’t have dementia. I do have wildly inconsistent cognitive abilities. And I do tend to become severely delirious if sick enough.

I have been in hospitals and been too delirious to know where I was or even who I was. I’ve had time drag to a crawl in such a state. And my only interaction -- if you could call it that -- was when nurses came in every few hours to switch my IV bags or sometimes clean me up. This was not actual human interaction. They were not acknowledging I existed.

And I felt it. My soul felt it. And my soul responded.

So I know that you don’t need to have enough working brain cells to rub together to create conscious thoughts, to feel when you’re being Xed, and to respond on a primal level.

This is the worst pain someone can inflict on someone else. And people do it to sick and disabled people habitually, put us in places that force people to do it even when they would not otherwise, and some form of this is completely socially acceptable in most cultures.

People act like I’m too stupid to know other people are even more stupid than me.

I think it’s pretty fucking evil to act like Xing people with cognitive disabilities doesn’t damage us or cause us pain.

I think this evil has become commonplace and acceptable. This does not make it less evil. Sometimes it’s impossible to evade a structure that forces you to at least partially participate in evil. But it’s rarely impossible to try to do as much good as possible.

And that starts with knowing we have souls and that we can suffer and that our suffering from being Xed is not a sad but inevitable result of having a disability. And that if we seem soulless and empty that is an illusion, and you can fight illusions if you know they are illusions.

What becomes horrible is when it’s too painful to know you have a soul and are fully human.

Because if you know -- really, deeply know -- that you yourself are human.

Then you can’t ignore the pain of your soul. You can’t ignore the contrast between what other people see and who you are.

And that can be dangerous.

It can be dangerous to feel, to act on what you feel, to yell for help or to lash out or any of the other things that feeling your humanity under onslaught can make you want to do.

It feels safer to become numb.

It feels safer to accept that you are not a person, or are only a partial person.

Some of us learn this very young.

And we participate in our own Xing.

And when you begin to feel -- you can do things that put you in danger, that may even put others in danger.

Which is why some part of me deeply knows that the instinct to dig in, to make it us and them, to hate everyone who hates me, to X everyone who Xes me, to lash out in any and every direction... this instinct is wrong, it contains illusions, it is deeply understandable and deeply wrong and deeply ineffective but it can feel so right in the moment.

And as communities we sometimes celebrate and encourage that impulse. We nurture it and let it grow into something that is ultimately both evil and ineffective but that feels better than doing nothing and that is sometimes partially effective. But some part of it is doomed, it is dooming ourselves, it is dooming anyone we might have genuine power over, it is so very seductive and so very dangerous.

So is passively allowing ourselves to be subhuman or partially human, or acting like we must go through life never harming anyone on any level.

Giving in to that seductive impulse to X people, or the impulse to be so utterly passive we X ourselves, are not the only two options.

But the effective options... they’re confusing. There’s not as many roadmaps. There’s not as many people. They look different for each person. Nobody can do everything. Everyone has a part to play. Sometimes people do good things while doing the wrong thing. There aren’t words for these situations.

But as many of us as can, we have to try.

We have to grope around in the dark, to try to navigate this freefall, to find and create paths for each one of us.

It’s hard. And confusing.

And right now. I’m looking at you. Whoever you are. One human being with a soul to another human being with a soul.

I see you. You are real. So am I. We’re in this together.

Sometimes you need a reminder that each of us is a human being behind the computer screen.

I don’t know where I’m going. Where we’re going. But I know I have to try. I can’t accept any system that Xes anyone. Whether that system is an institution, or an attempted fight or philosophy for liberation. I can’t. I won’t. I will always try.

I won’t accept that anyone is soulless or empty.

I won’t accept that my soul always has to be filtered through an ego that distorts its intentions.

I won’t accept being Xed.

Which also means I won’t accept having to X anyone.

I can’t always resist doing the wrong thing. There will be systems outside me that push me in the wrong direction. There will be my own ego and illusions steering me wrong. There will be unintended consequences, both for good and for bad. But I can’t give up and act like that doesn’t matter.

If you are out there trying to figure this out, trying to grope around in the dark, I am here with you. Lots of people are here with you. None of us are alone.

And... sometimes I wonder if I’m crazy. Well I know I’m crazy in one sense. But what I mean is -- my perceptions of reality, so few people voice these things, so many people participate in the Xing of me and people like me, that I wonder if perceiving our humanity and soul and everything is some kind of illusion.

And that I even wonder that -- that is a symptom of how thoroughly fucked up and pervasive the Xing of people like me has become.

I’ll probably talk about my perceptions of other people in another post. That’s an entire topic in itself.

Also -- people often think there’s something special about my cats. Because of the way they interact with people. Because of the way you can feel that they have souls.

There’s nothing special about my cats. I do my best not to X them. They don’t learn to X themselves. That’s the only thing different. You can’t always do right by cats but you can try as hard as possible.

I am like a cat who has learned to partially X themselves, but is beginning to listen to their soul.

One of the worst things for me is being conditionally a person.

It’s being a person because I can type in coherent English some of the time and people know it.

It’s being a person because I’ve displayed a real or illusory ability. And people just like me who haven’t -- or who are assumed they haven’t, even sometimes have people deliberately cover up that they have -- aren’t people. This is still Xing. And it gets really insidious when people go, “You’re not like them, and they aren’t like you,” as if they decide. As if, in the wrong situation, I am not somehow exactly “them”. Real people’s personhood is never conditional.

Or.

It’s people trying to make me a person. I’m a person already. You didn’t create my soul. You don’t make yourself better by going through the motions of making me look kind of real.

Or.

It’s people saying I’m a person. But not meaning it. Not understanding it.

Sometimes they gush endlessly about how I have a heart, a personality, but they treat me like a giant baby, and I am meant to accept this in order to make them feel better about themselves.

I can’t be that. I can’t accept that. My soul screams when I see it happening to other people.

You can’t make someone a person by celebrating that they are a mindless heart, or a heartless mind, or a bodiless mind, or a bodiless soul.

All of us have whatever is meant by mind, heart, body, and soul. We don’t all look the same, we are not all the same, but none of us are missing essential parts of our nature.

You don’t have to compensate for the the ‘missing’ part by emphasizing some other part. You don’t have to tell physically disabled people to ignore and disregard our bodies and cognitively disabled people to ignore and disregard our minds and autistic people to ignore and disregard our hearts and all combinations of these and more things. “You don’t have a mind but that’s okay.” “You don’t have a body but that’s okay.” “You don’t have a heart but that’s okay.”

No. it’s not okay. Our minds and bodies and hearts and souls may look different, may be different, but they’re not absent.

It’s not okay. It can never work. It is not the answer. It is not liberation. It is not freedom. It is not love. It is Xing in disguise.

I have to be a human being. I have to be a human being. I have to be a human being.

Being a human being hurts sometimes.

It cuts so deeply to watch yourself being Xed. To be isolated. To be expected to be grateful for being allowed to exist. To be expected to be grateful for Xing. To be expected to be grateful for partial or conditional personhood.

To experience this from people who are close to you, people who say they love you, people you love, people who love you in one way but not in another.

To have to figure out a way to accept the humanity of someone who won’t accept yours -- without taking away from the magnitude of the horror they are inflicting upon you.

To feel like you are doing this alone, or nearly alone.

To struggle into consciousness, struggle into awareness of your own reality, struggle to maintain that awareness even when every instinct tells you to shut down. To struggle to maintain awareness of who you are without going crazy in a world that tells you you don’t exist.

I say it again -- I’m here with you.

I am a person. You are a person. Whoever and whatever you are.

I am looking at you to tell you that I am real. But also -- this is irrevocably linked to that -- everyone is real. Everyone like me. Everyone.

Including people who feel every inch of everything I have said and all the things I want to say and can’t, but who will never speak or write a single word that anyone can understand. Including people who are in protective hiding from their own humanity. ALL OF US.

And I am not different or special here. I’m not speaking only for myself when I say that I am real. I am amplifying the message of lots of people saying the exact same damn thing without words. I am amplifying my own message at times in the past when I have not been capable of words, at times in the future when I will not be capable of words. This is all of us and always.

Some people are pouring every ounce of their being into saying this but nobody hears, not even their loved ones. Or they only partially hear, and can’t hear all of it. So I’m saying it.

Some people are unable to risk doing that, even as their souls are screaming unheard. Sometimes unheard even by themselves. So I’m saying it.

I am telling you this is happening because right now I can. I’ve never been able to before. I don’t know if I will be again. But right now I am doing my best.

I am also telling you that no matter who you are, I know that you are real. I don’t have to know you personally.

Also, to make it very clear: I don’t have to like you. I don’t have to trust you. I don’t have to allow you to harm people. I don’t have to totally avoid harming you if it’s the only way to stop you from doing harm. If punching you in the face will keep you from killing someone I’ll do it, but I’ll do everything in my power never to do that just because I feel angry at you. The world is messy and sometimes we have to make messy choices.. It doesn’t mean I don’t know or care that you exist.

Also: I can’t do this alone. None of us can. We were never meant to. No one person was ever meant to do every right thing. It’s not humanly possible. All of us are prone to particular errors as well as particular ways of getting things exactly right. All any of us can do is figure out who we are supposed to be and be that person in the most active and committed way we can. None of us will get it right all the time. All of us have something valuable to give the world. The best thing we can do is get out of our own way.

This is not like adopting a permanent unchanging moral code. This is something each of us has to choose moment by moment. Because we are living beings in a living world. Pretending the world isn’t shifting and changing around us, and that we don’t have to respond to changes in the world and in ourselves, won’t help.

And even if we’re fumbling in the dark, in freefall, not really totally knowing where we are, the fact that we are trying counts for something. There’s a reason that parts of the world got abruptly worse when “intent isn’t magic” became a meme.

There’s a grain of truth there -- unintended consequences are real. But in adopting that as a motto, people forgot something very important:

The sincere and dedicated attempt to truly do the right thing can be extremely powerful even when we don’t always know what’s right or fuck up or cause problems for people. Sometimes the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but total disregard of intentions is a surefire portal to hell on earth.

Knowing you have a soul is hard.

Love is hard. It’s not a feeling. It can cause feelings -- lots of them, not always pleasant either -- but it’s not itself a feeling. It’s a thing, a surprisingly concrete reality, a constant action, a choice.

And without it I don’t think we can get very far.

And if we X anyone we X everyone. And that goes well beyond ourselves, well beyond even just humanity.

There’s also been a lot of talk about whether humanity can physically survive at this point.

And I think we’re honor-bound to try, even if we can’t.

And if we can’t -- even if we’re dead certain we can’t -- we have a responsibility to all the life that will take our place in the world when we’re gone.

That’s something that applies on a personal level, to our own personal deaths. And it’s something that applies on a large-scale level, to our survival as groups of people, as cultures, as species, as life.

Even if we find out for sure we won’t be around, that not only doesn’t let us off the hook, it makes it more important we try to do right by whoever and whatever comes after. Even if we feel kind of like this:

Part of the reason I’ve had this come up again and again in recent years is I really didn’t expect to survive this long. Without certain medical diagnoses happening at nearly the last second, I wouldn’t be here. Many times over. I was in the ICU a year ago. I have an aspiration-related infection right now that, even though it is going great compared to some I’ve had, still fucked up my pulmonary function tests this week more than I expected. These things force you to think on this level.

None of us knows how long we have, whether we’re healthy or not. It’s important to remember that and to make the time we have count. These are not fluffy platitudes. They are intense, deep, difficult realities with complicated answers we may never totally find. But it’s important to try.

So I’m here to ask you. Maybe even to beg you.

To (if you have them in the first place) put down all the tools you normally use to pick apart and demolish arguments, to decide whether a person is espousing a particular ideological philosophy and whether that philosophy is an acceptable one or an unacceptable one.

This isn’t about winning and losing, gaining points or one-upmanship morally or intellectually. This isn’t about your ego, or mine, or the ways they can duke it out, or getting the words and concepts exactly perfect, or what team you’re on, or what team I’m on. So put all that crap down just for a second. And if you get hung up on ‘soul’ or some other word, read what I said above about that and put all that crap down for a second too. And if you don’t personally like me -- you don’t have to, but please put that down as well. For at least a moment.

And just understand, even for a second:

I have a soul.

People who are like me have a soul.

People who look like me have a soul.

Disabilities don’t ever get rid of that.

We can’t go around Xing people -- erasing their souls, or trying to, or pretending their souls don’t exist.

And we don’t have to -- can’t -- know everything, get everything right, be everything for everyone, avoid all conflict, agree, etc.

But I think we do have to try to keep in mind people have souls and do our best to always act on that. Both towards others, and towards ourselves.

I don’t think I actually know that much -- but I think I know that, and that the years of effort it’s taken to say this mean something. And understand as much as you can -- it really is years, I’m not exaggerating. And that if you saw me on the street you might think me mindless or soulless. And that it’s not my ability to write this (or anything) at this (or any) particular moment in time, that contradicts that assessment. But my ability to write can make you aware of it, so I’m taking as much advantage of that as I can.

And I’m pretty sure it’s our reality that matters, and everything else is details we have to muddle through as best we can. We need each other.

Signed,

One small but important part of existence, in one small but important place, like you.

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extraplanetarystory · 7 years

Text

Part 1

"Jiaal," a muffled voice called from down the hall. "Jiaal, vaqe ob! Kume xed iuol but! Nu mule mulnyz ryke djyz bul iou animule!"

Jiaal, wake up! Come get your food! No more mornings like this for you anymore!

There's always a point in the morning where I don't understand Copan. When I wake up, I forget where I am, who I am, and what language I speak—or what I'm supposed to be speaking. Luckily for her—or me—I had been awake for hours, staring out the window-wall at the great river Aqyma and thinking about the dream I had the night before. And many nights before that.

It wasn't a true dream, more like a distorted memory. I'm lost in a hot, wide desert. There's a man with me, constantly yelling and blaming me for being lost. I yell back and then I'm on my own. A startling flash of green light wakes me up every time.

The annoying thing is I used to think movies that had people dreaming about their past were bullshit.

"Jiaal, are you awake?" Her heels clicked in soft echoes on the hard hallway floor as she came to my door.

"Yes, yes!" I rolled over and shuffled myself out of bed in a flurry of fluffy gray blankets just in time for the door to open. "I am awake. I was seeing the river." I was moving fast but speaking slow, trying to make sure I picked the right Copan words.

She chuckled. "Well, good. Don't take too much longer, your badjel has a surprise for you. Big plans!"

Her name was Atlyana Alise. Her husband, Tawyn Fox. She always insisted I call them mother and father. I never did, as they weren't, but they were my adoptive "parents." A long time ago, I was in a place called the Ubjanaxe. I was essentially a feral child that couldn't speak a lick of Copan, and a group of tall, sharp-toothed aliens presented me to several men, women, couples, and various groups after they found me and made me presentable to society. After some time, Tawyn and Atlyana came along and, in an act of charity that looked like pure altruism worlds and the galaxy over, they adopted me. They named me Jiaal Foxise because Savanna Morgan was apparently not good enough.

The Orphanage felt more like a pound than an orphanage.

It doesn't make sense to me how I could have been lost then adopted. I had a very not lost life not too long before that whole ordeal. I lived in a home, had a family, knew who I was, and could understand everyone because I spoke the language everyone spoke. One screeching flash of black and green later...that was over.

At least, that's what I thought. The qicuqop—the aliens that found me—told me it was in my head. Atlyana and Tawyn told me it was in my head. I am not Savanna Morgan, nor was I ever. I made up that name. I was not born on a planet called Earth, I had created it in my mind. English was just gibberish. I am a poor, screwed up girl with a broken mind due to my denlols of isolation.

They're all so earnest and insistent that sometimes I wonder if they're right.

"What plans?" I think the color drained from my face as a whine grew in my throat. I hated their plans. They dragged me to special functions for what I was sure was only for appearances. Their friends all looked at me and gawked and oohed and aahed. The alien attention made my skin crawl.

What event was I going to be subjected to today? Atlyana's events were always banquets and food and society gatherings. She was a renowned chef. But if Tawyn had plans, that meant it was a science event. That was somewhat more intriguing. There'll be cool stuff to see, hopefully, lots of technology, but lots of big Copan words. And gawking and oohing.

Atlyana's chuckle turned into a laugh. "You will see," she grinned with a sing-song voice as she reached for my hand and began to drag me into the kitchen dining area. "Come now, breakfast."

Tawyn was sitting at the nook-like table with his usual morning drink (space coffee), reading his tablet (space news), and pretending not to notice me sit down across from him. Well, he didn't pretend that hard; he pushed a small plate of eggs and toast toward me.

One thing I liked about this place was that it wasn't too bizarre a change from Earth—or whatever I thought was Earth. Clothes were colorful and diverse. Zi'inra's sky was blue. Closets were closets. Bathrooms were bathrooms. Showers rained water. Beds were comfortable. And trees were green. On this planet at least, lots was pretty much the same. The food thing surprised me the most. My adoptive parents' favorite breakfast was eggs and toast! I mean, these eggs were red and orange and tasted a little bit like mushrooms, but they were still eggs. I've never seen floating space puffs for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert.

But then there were spaceships. There were spaceships and you could hear them booming in the distance at all hours of the day. There were space programs that mattered to the people. There was interplanetary travel and commerce. There were holograms. There were video screens at the side of every door. Family cars hovered and could separate into personal, smaller bubble cars.

There were lots of planets.

And it's not like anyone from a backwater planet like Earth is an expert on the matter, but, to me, there was a surprising few sapient species in the galaxy. There's humans, and there's qicuqop. Just those two. Qicuqop were gray, in the ranges of brown to blue. They're all over six feet, with long arms and four-fingered, clawed hands.

Humans outnumbered qi'qop five to one, but their presence in society is normal as ever. Slightly normal. So far as I have ever been able to gather, they ran the show when it came to anything political. And they're condescending pricks. Tawyn assured me that it's just in their mannerisms and they really weren't, but they really were.

Oh, and they kidnap children to give to high class humans. There's that, too.

"So," I poked at my eggs with a crispy strip of bread. "What are the plans for today?" I tried to sound more interested than I was, but not overdo it. I watched Tawyn's eyes stop sliding along the words of the newsfeed and a smile grow beneath his hookish nose.

"Do you remember when I found you on the roof about a denlol ago?" He set the tablet down and folded his hands together when he looked at me. I nodded. "I told you about the Space Exploration Administration." Zake Egfruladyun Atmynyzladryun. I had fun learning how to say those words.

My heart skipped a beat. I was stargazing when he found me. It was a clear night. The moons—one of which was waning—were almost gone below the flat horizon. The stars were out in full force; the line of the galaxy was the brightest I'd ever seen. When he found me, he only sat with me for a while, and then started talking about them.

"You seemed interested," he added, as if trying to nudge something out of me.

I just nodded again and shoved the yolk-drenched bit of toast in my mouth. Who wouldn't want to learn about that? I loved NASA when I was younger, and this was way beyond that. This was Starfleet. Here, it's called Zega.

"I thought long and hard about that conversation..." He paused, kind of trailing off, head bobbing a little before he snapped out of whatever train of thought that suddenly seized him. "The academy's selection process begins today at the tower. I thought I would show you what it's like when Zega's on the planet. It's very fun to experience."

These were the plans? That didn't seem so bad.

"Arlyxe," I nodded a third time. "That sounds neat. Is it like a show or something?"

"It is a zekdykar," he chuckled and reached for his little tablet. He turned it so I could get a good look at the screen.

I hadn't heard that word before.

"What is a zek-dy-kar?" I asked as I glanced over the glyphs and a moving picture—or maybe a looping video—of a crowd below the tallest building on Zi'inra. I looked at the image, only pretended to read the glyphs. I was supposed to practice reading but couldn't stand it. Tawyn and Atlyana had both gone over the basics with me, both intended to keep helping me practice, but both had other obligations and seemed to forget. And I couldn't remember half of what they showed me. So I happily skirted by with just images and speaking when I had to.

That, and I could just tell whatever I needed to read to read itself to me. I figured that tip out one night when I was angry at a wall panel.

"Zekdykar is—eh... Yeah, it is sort of a show."

I looked up just in time to see Tawyn look to Atlyana for help. She was leaning against the counter of one of the islands. When Tawyn turned to her, her eyes drifted to the side for a brief stare into space.

"Yes, it's a show. It's more of a sight that you can't ignore, especially in public," she said. "It's very grand, or it's very loud, or it's—as he said, it's an experience."

"Spectacle." They'd understand that word about as much I understood zekdykar. And that was written in the way they both raised their eyebrows at me, as they always did when I said something in English.

"Spik-tak-el," Tawyn tried to repeat.

I smiled wide and pointed at the image on his tablet. "That is a spectacle. I get it! When will we go?"

#science fiction #writing #original writing #extraplanetary

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