99% of my writing is done at three am

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

I am not a fighter.

I am full of anger, yes, but

I could not walk for a hundred miles of cracked and burning landscape,

with the weight of all evil around my neck,

nor could I carry the ringbearer.

I cannot wield a sword, nor a bow, nor an axe,

I cannot hold a staff, nor command an army.

here, of this, I have no use.

But.

I can stay. I will sleep at night, 'mid grassy fields,

I will wake to sunshine and smoking chimneys,

I will sweep and dust and tend the garden, Samwise Gamgee, Frodo Baggins,

I cannot hold a sword but I can hold the Shire,

keep it safe and warm and set it back,

once the Balrogs leave, the armies desert,

I will tend this patch of paradise for you, knowing

you will not return the same

I know. I understand.

none of us will be the same, not really

but I will light the lamps and turn the covers,

put the kettle on and sit with you by the fire.

I am happy to listen, or sit in silence.

I know. I understand.

you do not have to be strong for me, Samwise Gamgee, Frodo Baggins,

we us each all have our strengths, and yours

have already been exalted. you need not do more.

I cannot hold a sword, but I will hold the Shire,

and give you somewhere to come back to.

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

I press my mouth to the skin of his chest and he whispers in my ear "you could have your pick, you know of anyone that's here" and I know he doesn't see the way my lips form into a grin because by gods I couldn't care about that anyone all I care about is him

he thinks that he's not worth keeping around and that I have him as a second choice, as if there is anyone else I'd rather have in my bed, as if I can stand to leave him behind, even when I know it's a miserable, rotten place we're going it's better when you're here and it'd be worse if we weren't, you know it it's almost funny, how he thinks that in a matter of time I'll notice the people throwing themselves at my feet (like I haven't already; like they're subtle) and choose them, take my pick, have my cake and eat it too when darling, dearest, dear heart I already have

good morning, my friend is how I'd translate it for any passing patron, but hello, dear heart could be closer to the truth when I press my chest against his back, bury my chin against his throat and listen to his quiet laugh press a kiss to his throat and I think, what if

some days I watch how my people interact and yearn

I want to kiss him, I think lean across the table, chaste or pinned bodily against his borrowed books I want to suck him off between the stacks, where anyone could see but won't, because this is our corner, our hidden retreat, where the only ones to judge us are long dead authors and dusty ink and the ghosts we bring along

ao3 link

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

we pile precious stones like glass

making towers out of time

oh pesky bird, oh vexing elf,

oh man of science mad

Gott in Himmel, lonely men

how do you think to win

'gainst the ram who ripped the moon apart

chewed up the earth and spit it out

or razed it to the ground

oh pesky bird, oh vexing elf,

oh man of science mad

you pile precious stones like glass

to make towers into time

but tell me, little lonely men

when you beat God to heaven

do you think he'll let you in?

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

amongst my fellow men, I sleep

until beside me near, you creep

my head is small, my body large

and my missiles seek to find you

I hear you, little shulker friend

companions stolen from the End

I hope that you find comfort here

where your head has sought to find me

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

[how do I have everything fall around them without the story being a tragedy

like. I need the catharsis of being broken and hurt, and I want to be overwhelming or even world ending, but I want everything to be alright in the end

howeeww does one do

I already took my ambien so uh, condolences on any funky words

trying to find a healthy middle (plotwise) between a bunch of fucking martyrs throwing themselves away because what else are the good for? and the like, pratchett everyone matters you idiot

Somewhere between my bone hollow deep depressed pessimism, and my loud fiercely angry optimism

I guess step one is fine the middle ground

Or make it metaphorical

I just want to make people feel how I do

Like the world is falling down but in meer minutes it wont be, probably, statistically based on what's happened historically anyway

and theres no way to know and you choice always always include death and dying because if they didnt you'd already have stopped breathing but leaving, leaving is better it lets you come back but go where is the question?

I have to build up a fantasy so I can watch myself escape and know its possible

the gap between "you can do it!" and the actual execution is gonna get me killed some day

most people are asleep but I doooooo want help with this

like how do I resolve my story when a happy ending seems so unattainable]

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

I do not love with all my heart I love with every cell inside my brain I reach out and choose you, blood does not decide who I love or what I love and I love you so help me god a heart does not hold love it is an organ to pump your blood.

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

postmortal

hello, they know where you are, get ready old friend

who is they?

they found the compass, it will lead them to you, the broken feathers trailing behind, I know, I'm- no time to explain

WHO?

an army of butchers, to kill and to crush you the anvil is set, glinting in the sun. it scares me

what did they do to you?

nothing at all just stuck me here I'm fine what about-- so you got him then. I'm sorry

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

sir are you aware that I would kill for you? but I have and you were there you watched their bodies fall and I noted your aproval I am sure you know

ah, but do you know that I- like you? amatus, root word amare, meaning to love you sound so hesitant I'm not sure you could take anything stronger

hello, amicus a fun fact about Latin in English, it is Boyfriend or Girlfriend but in languages with gramatical gender it is simply "friend"

amare is a first conjugation verb

and your suit has so many buckles it'll take me years to memorize their shapes and get them off you fast enough for my taste

if I kissed the bare skin of your shoulder in the window seat for all to see would you let me? I love like te quiero too much to test it

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

I am to the earth as my cells are to me. isn't that wonderful? to be a part of something larger than yourself? the blood cell or muscle does not understand how it fits into the whole, and yet they are a necessary part. simply by existing and doing as they will, they make up me, and I live because of them. at what point are we alive? I would argue that we never are. my cells are each "alive" in their own right, but is dna alive? at what point do I stop being alive and start being dead? a virus is not "alive", and yet we can kill it. living things only exist because some protein chains in the prehistoric soup started drifting together and apart, reacting to and with the soup around them. were they alive? I am to my cells and the earth is to me. how can we know the earth isn't "alive"? how do we know that we are not the brain, liver, lung cells of the earth? perhaps she has been cold before, shivering and shaking. perhaps she has a fever, now, will take her version of a long bath to try and alivate it. will it kill her? a fever always might. it always kills some of the body's cells. and perhaps the earth is to the universe as my cells are to me. one part of a whole, a tiny moving part in the machine of a living thing. "they're too far away," and to our cells we must be galaxies apart, "they meld and mix but never truly hit one another," again, what happens when new humans are created? plants, animals, algae and lichen, what counts as alive and what as dead? when do you do cpr? when someone isn't breathing and has no pulse. and what do we call someone with no pulse who isn't breathing? dead. but once you're dead you're dead, in theory, so why can cpr resurrect people where is the line? what counts as alive? it gives me comfort to think that I am fufilling my purpose simply by existing. I don't know how, but neither do my brain cells. they simply keep themselves busy and try to stay alive. we pursue immortality what happens when a cell refuses to die? you get cancer but the real problem is when it steals resources keeps them and diverts them from where they're needed "like humans?" "like the rich" and if you have a body that kills the wrong cells, you have an immuno disorder. you start dying. how can there be useless species? the cartilage does not understand what the spleen is for, and yet both are necessary to the function of the body; when your white blood cells attack your spinal fluid everything starts falling apart. do you even know what spinal fluid does? I am to the earth as my cells are to me. I am to my cells as the galaxy is to the earth. I am to the earth as the galaxy is to the universe. and I am content.

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

there is a point

in humidity and heat

that no matter what you do

sit in front of a fan or in a stream

or sweat

you will get hotter

and hotter

and cook

from the inside out

there must be a similar point

where all stimulus makes it worse

makes you feel worse

and worse

until you rot

from the inside out

cause I can feel my brainstem rotting

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast, The Second Citadel (The Penumbra Podcast) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sir Angelo/Alé of Milltown, Sir Angelo & Sir Damien (Penumbra Podcast) Characters: Sir Angelo (Penumbra Podcast), Alé of Milltown (Penumbra Podcast), Sir Damien (Penumbra Podcast) Additional Tags: Arospec character, Arospec Sir Angelo, Ace Sir Angelo, Asexual Character, Angst with a Happy Ending, me an aro trying to write romance: can I phone a friend, I think I should also mark this as, Hurt/Comfort, with an emphasis on the hurt rather than the comfort, I'm sorry it wasn't supposed to be like this Summary:

Alt title: it's hard to find a boyfriend who can kick your ass when you're the best knight in the citadel (luckily he lives nearby)

Alé is in love with Angelo but won't tell him, and Angelo is in love with Alé but doesn't realize it. Damien, in a surprising display of restraint, takes it all in stride.

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

"Do you have... feelings, for Sir Angelo?" Damien asked.

"Sure." Alé toweled off his head. "He's attractive. He's kind. Saints, he's sincere. What's not to like?"

"But-" Alé looked up at Damien. "-why haven't you said anything?"

He laughed. "Have you seen him? He's the most straight laced guy I've ever met. He'd never go for another man, let alone me." he said, his tone taking on a bitter edge.

Damien stared at him.

He thought back to his conversation with Angelo, to how he'd stuttered and been poetic and blushed, remembered how hauntingly familiar he'd sounded ("only a rivalry," he'd said, and Damien had only just suppressed his laughter), how... happy, he was.

He stood, clasping a hand on Alé's shoulder, startling him. "I think it would be wise to talk it over with him, despite what doubts you may hold." Alé scoffed, shrugging off Damien's hand and turning away. Damien let him go, and with a sigh, left the barracks.

He didn't get to see Alé shrink in on himself, wrapping his arm around himself and pretending it was leftover water from his hair dripping onto the floor.

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

you sip your coffee and I watch as the sunlight streams through the stained glass window of the coffee shop down the street you asked me to come with you did you know what that meant? did I?

you rant about the latest statement aren't they terrible? and I listen your hands dance and your voice increases in tempo and volume in a way I see no where else I wish I could see you this passionate about anything all the time

I wish I knew what you meant when you asked me to get a coffee with you I wish I knew what I meant when I said yes

(I want to reach out over the table clasp your hand and say I love you but I can't tell if that's because it's true or if I just want it to be)

you sit across from me in the coffee shop down the street and I wish I was sitting across from you

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

how do I draw what spring feels like?   bounce between their art and mine   let it fill me up and squeeze through the gaps in my ribs   get caught off guard by your voice-   and nearly cry once I hear it   how do I draw that?  

the scent of rain and sound of birds   the prick of grass   rustle of leaves   how do I press these into ink   and show them off?

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

I remember growing up as I run my hands through your hair I've always had a poets heart I remember trying desperately to stay out of the way to avoid I remember sitting in the garden watching flowers bloom dreaming of red roses and forget me nots

I remember growing up pouring over books alone in the library did you pour over books alone I wonder? and smile against your neck reading old and crumbling books on flowers and letters and love

nowadays I dream of yellow roses and bachelor's button and the little white flowers in the fields that we'll weave into crowns that lace our heads and leave on the kitchen counter to wither in the sun

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

I kissed you today which is important but not, I think the important bit

I kissed you today because I thought I hoped I wanted to

I kissed you today and I think you liked it but the important bit is that I didn't

you've said before that you wouldn't right? would you mind not doing this either?

I kissed you today I'm sorry I don't think I could do it again

[thesleepdeprivedravingsofcasey]

oh I do not speak to her anymore and for that I am glad though some days I regret it I have been made to forget why I stuck around for someone who hated me I never told her but I think she suspected imagine if she could see me now at the end of the world with the man I love we touch I don't think it'd offend her not unless she knew, oh sometimes I laugh to think what she would say if she could see me now she would be miserable and I can finally smile