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Today's Document
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
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DEAR READER
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@ankoku-teion
Further account revisions are occurring:
Hi. I'm Sarah. This is my old main. I now mostly go post to @sarah-ankh. Go check out that pin.
This is now where I post all my worldbuilding infodumps, poetry, writing, and general creative productions.
Anything about my DnD world will be tagged as #Dioraden.
My currently active WIP:
Lena’s Tragedy I wait on the cusp of the final act, the greatest choice of my life. And it's out of my hands. I ran to you, showed y
what happens if you do it scared and it doesnt stop being scary and next time you have to do the same thing you remember how scared you were last time and get even more scared ? many such questions.
This is fear conditioning.
If you feel nothing but at most relief something painful is over, the next time you do it it will become harder, and sometimes your brain will become unable to stomach it altogether. (With this, you may notice that things you 'could do before'/ when you were younger you can no longer tolerate. This is why). It conditions you to have immense anxiety over something.
With no reward, or satisfaction, or happiness in general, there's nothing to show that the activity is anything but suffering. Consider giving yourself something good or fun to do after, associating it with something positive and nice, or try focusing on the positives of the outcome. Remember to congratulate yourself on a task no matter how small, this sense of worth and positivity matters!
Also, if you find your brain doesn't produce reward chemicals at most laborious tasks, consider ADHD medication if you can.
I was gonna say "this is me, but with everything." Then I read that last sentence...
One of my girlfriends makes me drink water and eat food, and the other makes me sleep a normal amount.
They must hate me.
checking on my moots!! how are u doing :)
Sleepy.
Very sleepy
Worried about my partner who is having a mental health crisis right now.
Cautiously excited for Christmas.
How are you doing?
From the last days of my previous braids
To being finished taking them out
And now
❤️🔥The new look❤️🔥
You look beautiful sweetie, love you ❤️
Love you too, beautiful 😘
He doesn’t even know, and he doesn’t want to.
I don't go here but I feel like "It's a metaphor. Don't force it to do the work of a fact." is a great statement about literature and fan-content in general.
Well, this is fun: Cards Against Humanity have apparently released a new version where every joke on every card is fully explained, turning the game into an "Informational product" to make it 100% exempt from Trump's tarriffs:
https://www.pcgamer.com/gaming-industry/cards-against-humanity-avoids-tariffs-with-an-edition-that-explains-all-the-jokes-says-this-holiday-season-dont-give-donald-trump-a-f-ing-cent/
All profits go to the American Library Association. 💥📚
i love to learn about my cat i love to google “should you trim cat last claw? trim all cat claws? cat last claw called? cat fifth claw? cat claws labelled. trim cat dew claw?” and then say hi graham i learned something about you! your weird claw is called a dew claw and it will not be worn down by regular walking so it is extra important to be diligent about trimming to prevent it growing into your paw pad! and he bites me and bites me
i wish graham could google. maybe he’d google “human skin thickness? humans skin cut bite? humans red line arm leg? how hard bite humans? human pain tolerance? human vs kittens safe play” and then he would say mads im so sorry i didnt realize that humans are prone to injury from skin punctures. we should engage in remote play through means of toys as you were suggesting
A wordless embrace
A tight squeeze that says
I see you, I feel you
I'm here and so are you
I want to hold you close
And never let you go
I love you.
Take a chance
Better the devil you know.
Who rolls the dice, and cheats at cards.
And never says the word.
And Always leaves room for bargains.
take a chance, or play it safe?
"stick with me, play it safe."
Keep your cards close, play it small.
Stick to what you know.
Fuck that!
Showed this to my girlfriend and she wrote the following addition. It's too good not to share:
You'll never win big if you play it safe,
The Devil controls your cards.
Take the risk,
Bet all in.
Bet on the the players at your table,
They don't control your cards.
My heart leaps
My fingers dance
My eyes well up
I can't find the words
Wellspring in summer heat
Flowing over sun-cracked earth.
Undeserved.
But gratefully received.
Terror
Vicelike heart
Crushing grasp
*Whatif-whatif-whatif*
"take my hand" she says
"and breathe."
Take a chance
Better the devil you know.
Who rolls the dice, and cheats at cards.
And never says the word.
And Always leaves room for bargains.
take a chance, or play it safe?
"stick with me, play it safe."
Keep your cards close, play it small.
Stick to what you know.
Fuck that!
It's a day early, but tummy tuesday is too far away for me to shout about trans rights protests.
Today, we held a protest, outside the Tate Modern, against the transphobic attacks from our so-called left wing government.
Reblogging with my beautiful tummy tuesday tag list
And hey, I'm likely about to get a fuck tonne more transphobic hate so why not balance it out with some donations
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No title for this one yet. A rare toe into sci-fi for me but I had this dream and just had to write it down.
Best in mind. It's 5am and I started writing this at 4. Bound to be some errors
-------------------------------
A I the only one who gets this? That chaotic feeling in half my fingers and even a couple that jumping, vibrating, crawling sensation.
Even through all the substrate of the ship, wgen I've no longer anynflesh to feel ot, and my bones are made of steel.
I hate rats.
I feel unclean.
Ive tasked a dozen roombas scrub ever centimeter of my deck where that thing has been and track down it's lair. I'm going to wait until most of the crew is asleep and flood a few lower chambers with halogen just to be sure, because where you find one of those furry little vermin there's bound to be more.
I swear to god, if this is another one of crewman Hailey's ‘pets’ I might have to gas her too for bringing one of those things aboard me.
Some of The crew aren't used to thinking of me as a person, they forget. Don't consider I might have opinions on what they bring *inside me*. I was human once too, yknow! It doesn't go away!
“It wasn't a rat-” he tells me, exasperated. “It wasn't a rat, it was a mouse.” like it makes a difference, so the little bastard's small and brown instead ofnfat and grey. It's still a little flea-ridden, piss-soaked rodent that's crawling around inside me, all over my beams, spreading its filth everywhere it goes.
It is crewman Hailey's pet, she acquired it last time she was planet-side and didn't think to tell me, or anyone else for that matter, she didn't think about how I might feel. Not until I confronted her. I told her “you’d better hope you find it before I do.” And now I'm in trouble with the captain. Like I need a captain. Or a crew. Like I'm not fully capable of piloting myself. But apparently I made Hailey cry and “that's not good enough”, they don't understand. They don't feel that rising feeling of creep, of judder. Of uncontrolable chaotic vibration all over my body that won't go away, like an itch I cant scratch.
Being a ship, it feels a bit like laying down with your arms pinned under you. The ship is me, my body, that's how it feels. Except I can't move my arms or my legs anymore. I can't scratch, I can't scrub myself clean, I can't do anything to alleviate that feeling. All I can do is flop around and wait for a bot to do it for me.
I am sorry about Hailey though. I like Hailey. She's nice. I know she was attached to the rodent, and I wouldn't want her to be upset, I just wish she'd fixated on anything else! She used to have a snake! Why couldn't it have been another snake? Why a mouse?!
I'm having the fabricators make some C&R traps and a decent cage. No promises! But. If the rodent survives she had better know it's on its last warning. If I see it outside of her cabin again I won't be so merciful.
…I'm still filling one of the maintenance bays with halogen. I need to wallow in it. The bay is mine anyway, none of the crew ever need to go in. The captain won't like me using the lfure suppression system agan, but I will tell him “just don't set me on fucking fire then!”
The Restricted Archive of Eldain University's great library.
Only senior university staff may enter, and only in the company of an Archivist. None of the books are permitted to be removed from the room, those wishing to use them must take what notes they can within the permitted time
-------------------------------------------------
The Book of Sands
On a high shelf, resting under blanket of dry dust you find a slim volume, barely thicker than your little finger and bound in yellow leather. On the cover is a faint imprint of an alien script that you do not recognise. Only a single word. It's meaning comes unbidden into you mind, *Psammos*, the Desert.
It's warm in your hands. As if it has been soaking in the light of the sun all day and is only now releasing the heat. like sand on the beach as the sun sets.
Each page is thin, so thin it's almost translucent, and the edges are gilt trimmed.
You try to open it to the first page, but a handful of pages at the front seem stuck to the cover. You flip the pages back, trying to get to the title page, but you seem able to turn only a single page at a time, and there always seems to be more pages. You flip towards the back instead and the same thing happens. No matter how far you turn you can never reach the end.
As you go you catch glimpses of the contents, of spell diagrams and ritual words, the names of gods and demons, eldritch invocations and ancient lore.
Half way down one page, a title catches your eye; The Eyes of the Rune-Keeper. You can't help but stop, and read what this odd book has to say on such an unusual topic.
It starts with a fairly dry description of the power. The ability to read abf understand any written word as if it were your own language. The prose is rather purple, and not at all academic. But it goes on, and it starts describing a summoning ritual. A spell thats meant to invokenthe power from your patron whether they will it or no. It earns of potentially dire consequences for performing the ritual, but gets no further than the third line. Eagerly you turn the page and read on…
…And rapidly descend into confusion. The words seem to be nonsense. A complete non-sequitor. You make yourself blink and scan this page again. It's a completely different spell, a ritual for 3 mages to combine their power for a single casting,nbut for what end you cannot tell as that description is cut off.
Clearly the pages are misprinted, or out of order. But- maybe it's deliberate? Perhaps there is a puzzle, a key to finding the right pageand unlocking the books secrets.
You turn back to look again at the invocation and- the page has changed. The text is completely different, still coherent but not at all related to either of the first two texts. And still incomplete!
The Yellow Emperor
A sheaf of papers, wrapped loosely in a protective oil cloth. Reading them through reveals it to be the script for s play. The first act is a perfectly ordinary court drama set in the imperial capital of the Draconic Imperium, and follows the antics of a young concubine.
The second act though, takes a sudden turn to the absurd when the eunuch deutagonist turns to the audience and begins delivering a monologue. The words are confusing, and increasingly detached from the rest of the play, but strangely compelling, almost charming…
Somebody has tried to burn the third act, but its still readable with a little effort.
Whenever I'm asked what superpower i would Want to have, I always give the same answer; shape shifting, teleportation, or time-stop. And sure, those would be nice. But they're not the truth.
The truth is something petty and vindictive. Something I don't particularly like about myself. But it's *always* the thing I picture in my head. Something I've privately written about for years.
The truth is that I'd have the ability to inflict my pain, my demons, onto others. To force them to feel, to know.
To know that soul-deep certainty of your own worthlessness, your rottenness. To look upon yourself and see only a slug, a leech, a disgusting monster. To feel the entire world is wrong and know the fault is yours alone.
The quiet desperation giving way to mute acceptance, knowing your heart is rotten and your soul is damned, that you are beyond the reach of repentance. To know that and to accept the fires of hell, because you truly deserve them. To have no more gear of death, and even to welcome it, because they hold no torment greater than that which you inflict upon yourself within your own head already. And at least death would be an end.
That is what I felt inside my heart, every day for almost a decade. That is what lingers still, the dark little whispering thought in the back of my brain that I have named Malthus.
I want to make others feel this way. I want to free myself of this crushing weight by forcing it upon another. For a week, a day, an hour. To watch them bear it and see them crumble beneath it like Atlas tricking Heracles into holding the sky.
That would be my power.
