reality doesn't care about you.

sideblog for everything story and fantasy i write, sometimes i draw, and i constantly think about things that don't belong in this universe. [any pronouns]

[theshalesky]

hello ^^

Wow, this is the 3rd blog i've created and the first time i'm making an introduction post. I don't even know why i've decided to make one now...

Anyways, welcome to my blog. I'm Ciel, i'm 21 and i use any pronouns.

My posts will be about:

writing

stories and fictional stuff in general

my ocs

escapism

whatever you call the general pain of being stuck in this universe

... because yeah, reality really doesn't care about you. If you're wondering what i mean by this - here's the explanation.

main: @rememberthelullabies

other sideblog (about the magnus archives): @shadow-the-crow

Feel free to send asks or dm me ^^ just don't be an asshole. in general. yeah

tagging system:

#a tangle of words - my poems

#crumbs of my mind - writing snippets, story/character concepts and vaguely poetic thoughts

#the occasional yearning for other worlds post - more or less self explanatory

#yelling at empty skies - ramblings and shitposts (about writing and anything else)

Oc tags (mainly for myself): #necri vibes #necri and healer vibes #dalia vibes #azari and laska vibes #juna and finn vibes #ella vibes

(here's a vague overview of most of my ocs. if you wanna know more about any of them, feel free to ask!)

[gailynovelry]

The fastest way to accomplish The Project is to cease being afraid of The Project. The Project cannot maim you. The Project cannot kill you. The Project is more afraid of you than you are of it. It is okay if The Project turns out differently from how it was in your head, and it is okay if it has flaws. You are capable of engaging with The Project.

[writingdose]

writers, instead of asking ai for help, you can always use your childhood trauma and repressed issues to help you with that fic

[nondelphic]

i love making playlists for my book. one day i may even write the book.

[abigailspinach]

[lavenderpanic]

all of my writing is actually just thinly-veiled fantasy about being seen at your worst and still being loved

[tokkibean]

"work in progress" is actually so misleading like it assumes that im actually making progress on my work

[moogmatriarch]

the author's barely disguised personality disorder

[nondelphic]

the idea that a story has to be realistic to be good is such a weird hill to die on. realism?? in this economy?? babe i’m writing about a ghost with anxiety

[nondelphic]

you say "that sentence is grammatically incorrect" i say "it sounds like the internal monologue of a man unraveling in a fluorescent-lit hallway and that’s the point"

[theshalesky]

sometimes i feel like chatgpt. which is an awful thing to say, considering i'd shoot that thing into the sun if i could.

but what i mean is - you know what they say about using ai for therapy? "it's an echo chamber. it'll only tell you what you want to hear. it'll always tell you you're right."

i'm the same, really. i'd never disagree with you. i'll always tell you your feelings are valid, because you deserve to hear it, and who else will tell you? i'll always say you did nothing wrong.

and if you ask me to tell you a story, i'll search through all the things others have said. if you ask me to walk up to you first, tell you my thoughts unprompted, my mind will go blank. i have nothing to say. i am here to listen, to be there for you - i'm not here to be my own person. i open my mouth and no words come out.

you talk about how you're lonely, and i say i'm sorry. i'm sorry to hear that. i'm sorry i can't fill the hole. i'm sorry i'm only a thin dull blanket, comforting but never warming. i'm sorry i'm empty. i'm sorry - i promise i'm trying, even if it doesn't look like it.

if you're alone, then what am i? words on a screen, giving you the bare minimum. regurgitating messages i've read somewhere else. "i'm so sorry you feel that way. i understand it must be hard. surely it will be okay eventually."

[theshalesky]

during lunch, i think about the last few minutes of the movie. about the blinking letters reading: "you are dying". about the screaming. the breaking down in the middle of that thing that is supposed to be your life: help me. a scream so guttural it still resonates in my bones.

suddenly, i feel tears welling up in my eyes. suddenly, i am not hungry at all.

i imagine myself screaming, as well. in the middle of the cafeteria. people would stare, or maybe they wouldn't notice me at all. i would apologise.

it's 9 pm and i flinch when i hear footsteps in the hallway. just a few hours earlier, my mother said, over the phone: why don't you talk to your neighbors? just knock. make some connections.

i feel nauseous again. i don't know how to explain this to her. that i cannot change at all. that this is the best i can do.

i don't think i am suffocating, but these days i'm not sure.

[eriexplosion]

Love me a character that goes "Don't just internalize your trauma. Externalize it. Make your trauma everyone else's problem. Murder some guys about it maybe. And whatever you do, never ever stop being interpersonally unpleasant to be around."

Give me a bitch that sucks and I'm all over them.

[theshalesky]

when they eventually find me they'll find me sitting on my bed like a good little girl. although i was killed so brutally i died doing exactly what i was supposed to do. and that's all that matters. i was being such a real person such a real and normal person feet propped up on the bed and all. "she died living her normal life", they will say. when they eventually find me they'll find me sitting on my bed, the thing i was always doing. the only thing i was ever doing. "good little girl, where are her friends?" "we asked all the clubs she was in. they hadn't seen her in weeks." "did she lie to us?" yes, i lied. yes, i skipped everything. i was always right here. in this bed. i didn't leave the room. i died forgetting how fresh air smelled. and while we're telling the truth - i lied about that assignment too. it's long overdue now. and i still havent called my boss. and i still haven't texted my friends. and i still haven't taken a single step towards any of my dreams. i was always right here. i was always right here.

[leafymushroomexistence]

More of me projecting onto v!pyro. This time about self destructive tendencies or smthing.

[polarity-disturbed]

big fan of when a character metaphorically sweeps something under the rug, but you can feel them flinch every time they walk over it and feel the crumbs beneath their feet

[theshalesky]

[Father: I'm sorry for the tone of the conversation. I'm so worried about my son that... that I only talked about that. Arthur: No no, you didn't only talk about that. Father (his eyes widen): Yes yes, I swear, I only talked about that. (the king stares at him)]

-on feeling like you're defined by your hurt, feeling like your whole life is about your scars