Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.
Might I add:
The defeat of the wizard who made people choose how they’d be to be executed
The woman who raised the changeling alongside her biological child
The human who died of radiation poisoning after repairing the spaceship
The adventures of a space roomba
Cinderella finding Araura (and falling in love)
I don’t know a snappy description but the my nemesis cynthia story certainly lives in my head
hilariously, these are almost all in my fic tag. so, a compiled list from the notes (and some extras):
What about the one with the princess locked in a tower learning to become a wizard? That’s lived in my mind for years and I haven’t seen it in a long time
I’m not the most eloquent writer, but I’ve had this idea kicking around for a while and figured I’d put it out into the universe.
A lot of the basis for the “humans are space orcs” stuff is the idea that we’re pretty durable compared to many species, yeah? When it comes to physical trauma, we can bounce back from most things that don’t kill us outright, especially given the benefit of hypothetical space-age technology, and adrenaline is one heck of a drug when it comes to functioning under stress.
But that doesn’t make us unkillable, and even though we can survive debilitating injuries and not die from shock, it doesn’t mean it’s fun. Dying of shock sucks, but at least it’s probably quick.
So - Imagine a ship, adrift in space, slowly being drawn into a star or something. In order to save the ship, someone has to repair the hyper-quantum-relay-majig on the hull or in the engine or whatever. Bit of a problem though- there’s a ton of deadly, deadly radiation (Wrath of Khan style) or poisonous fumes or, I dunno, electrical current, between the crew and the repair. Like, enough to kill most species instantly, so the crew is just like, ‘welp, guess we’ll die then’. But then.
BUT THEN
They ask the human. Because everyone’s heard the stories - you’re basically unkillable, right? Could you survive long enough in there to fix it? And their human goes real quiet for a second, but still says ‘Yeah, I could fix it’. And the rest of the crew is like, ‘Whaaaaaa, it won’t kill you?’ and the human repeats “I can fix it” (which isn’t an answer, but no one catches that, not yet at least), so they send ‘em in. And the human fixes it, they come back, the ship flies to safety, and the crew is thrilled to survive. If the human is a little quiet, well, they’re entitled after pulling off a miracle. Everyone else is just excited to get to the nearest station’s bar to tell their very own human story, cuz, ‘those crazy humans, amiright?’.
The good mood keeps up until the human is late for their next shift. At first it’s just faint unease, but- but they earned a bit of a lie-in, right? No reason to begrudge them some extra rest, even if it is a little weird for them to oversleep. They’ll be fine. Humans are always fine.
(Right?)
(…Wrong.)
-What is… help. Help!-
- ake up! You have t-
- been days. You need sleep, you-
- nother transfusion. We could-
- out of sedatives!-
A week later, the crew finally reaches the station. They stumble into the bar, haggard and haunted. And over the next months and years a new rumor about humans starts to make its way through space. A rumor unlike any before.
‘Be careful with your humans’ it whispers. ‘Their strength is not always a blessing. Be sure they don’t do something they can’t come back from, because when a human dies… they die slowly.’
The thing is, humans can be tricky. And if they’re sufficiently pack-bonded with a ship’s crew? And that crew is in danger? They’ll willingly offer themselves up to make sure the crew survives.
They won’t tell their crewmates that whatever danger it is will just kill them slowly, that they can endure the exposure but not the long-term effects.
But the idea that humans can be fragile? Can die later from exposure to radiation or toxins or electricity or even smoke inhalation?
It seems preposterous!
There are too many stories about humans surviving all sorts of conditions that would kill their other crewmates. A human dying slowly, later, lingering and in agony? It’s a creepy story but of course it’s not true.
But then… another crew shares their own story. Their human volunteered to go into the danger zone to fix what needed to be fixed. Or maybe she had to retrieve a critical component or resource. And she lingered. Wasted away. Later the human doctors told their medical team there was nothing they could do but make sure she was comfortable, ease her pain before the end.
And yet another crew, whose human plunged through smoke and ash to make sure his crew could escape. He choked and coughed and couldn’t get enough air. Their medical commander performed an autopsy and found his lungs and throat and sinuses all coated in black soot and blackened mucus and red blood.
So the stories spread. Just because they don’t die of shock, just because they don’t die right away doesn’t mean it won’t kill them. They linger in agony or unconscious or waste away slowly.
But what’s most horrifying of all?
When other humans hear the stories from the traumatized crewmembers?
They aren’t surprised or horrified.
They say “Of course”
They say “I would have done the same”
They say “it was the Right Thing to do”
And they’ll smile (what the crew’s human would have called a sad smile) and toast to the dead. For making “The ultimate sacrifice for the folks they loved” and every human listening will say the name and drink a shot of liquor.
When I was younger and more abled, I was so fucking on board with the fantasy genre’s subversion of traditional femininity. We weren’t just fainting maidens locked up in towers; we could do anything men could do, be as strong or as physical or as violent. I got into western martial arts and learned to fight with a rapier, fell in love with the longsword.
But since I’ve gotten too disabled to fight anymore, I… find myself coming back to that maiden in a tower. It’s that funny thing, where subverting femininity is powerful for the people who have always been forced into it… but for the people who have always been excluded, the powerful thing can be embracing it.
As I’m disabled, as I say to groups of friends, “I can’t walk that far,” as I’m in too much pain to keep partying, I find myself worrying: I’m boring, too quiet, too stationary, irrelevant. The message sent to the disabled is: You’re out of the narrative, you’re secondary, you’re a burden.
The remarkable thing about the maiden in her tower is not her immobility; it’s common for disabled people to be abandoned, set adrift, waiting at bus stops or watching out the windows, forgotten in institutions or stranded in our houses. The remarkable thing is that she’s like a beacon, turning her tower into a lighthouse; people want to come to her, she’s important, she inspires through her appearance and words and craftwork. In medieval romances she gives gifts, write letters, sends messengers, and summons lovers; she plays chess, commissions ballads, composes music, commands knights. She is her household’s moral centre in a castle under siege. She is a castle unto herself, and the integrity of her body matters.
That can be so revolutionary to those of us stuck in our towers who fall prey to thinking: Nobody would want to visit; nobody would want to listen; nobody would want to stay.
It’s been half a decade and I still haven’t found an articulation of the complexity of “representation” as concisely and precisely mindblowing as @hungrylikethewolfie’s here.
Again it’s an honour to be drawing one of my favourite short stories ever. Thank you so much for the original authors for creating this story; and for everyone who bought a copy and donated to the above non-profits.
This story makes me cry every single time I read it
1. Battle Angel Alita manga gains popularity outside of Japan
2. James Cameron reads said manga
3. Cameron, hot off a successful movie run, is inspired while at the same time wanting to create a show
4. Creates and writes show Dark Angel, casting Jensen Ackles in a reoccurring supporting role
5. Show about genetically enhanced characters features “heat” as something characters go through
6. Show gets canceled after 2 seasons. Jensen Ackles is now unemployed.
7. Supernatural airs 3 years later, with Jensen Ackles as the main character
8. RPF becomes massively popular for the show to avoid the main incest pairing with canon characters
9. Fanfic AU inspired by Ackle’s stint on Dark Angel morphs multiple existing tropes, creating first official ABO (omegaverse) story for Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
10. Omegaverse becomes wildly popular, spreading across multiple fandoms and variations
11. Omegaverse novels begin to get published, including by Addison Cain and Zoey Ellis who both wrote het omegaverse novels
12. Cain files DMCA against Ellis, with Cain claiming to have invented het omegaverse
13. Lawsuit finds its way to court, becoming the Omegaverse Litigation case, and bringing omegaverse to the public’s knowledge
I was going to put up a masterlist of my translations and then decided I might as well compile a list of all the Guardian 镇魂 novel translations that I know of, so they’re available in one place for your convenient reading. :D This also includes links to some novel meta posts and name/honorific discussion. ♥ to my fellow Guardian fans.
It’s so weird talking to people who’s view of “here’s the way life is for everyone” is shattered as soon as they talk to someone with disabilities (physical, mental illness, any). Like you’ll say you’ll have a problem and instead of helping you they’ll argue with you about how you’re not actually facing that problem. Like,
Me: Hey, I’m really struggling to find a job and a part of it is my resume. I was depressed & psychotic during highschool so I didn’t do anything to gain skills or achievements to put on my resume. I also don’t have anyone to put as a reference. What can I do?
Them: You can add your skills, hobbies, clubs you’re in, and different volunteer work you’ve done! You can also get your teacher as a reference.
Me: I already know what to put on a resume, my issue is that I don’t have things that I can use. Also, I’m in my mid 20s so I don’t know if I can put my highschool teacher as a reference.
Them: Well if you’re a part of a church or an activity group, you could add that. Also, think of any projects you’ve worked on in the past.
Me: I already know you can put these things on a resume. I’m not looking for suggests of things I’ve already done, I’m looking for what I can do now if I haven’t done anything.
Them: There’s no way you didn’t do anything during highschool?? What about some odd jobs you definitely did for extra money, like babysitting or mowing the lawn?
Me: I spent all of highschool either in modified classes or in bed doing nothing - not even hobbies, what about that do you not understand?
And then you talk to someone who’s also disabled and they’re like “Here’s a bunch of jobs you can do from home that don’t pay much but look good on a resume, here’s some free online courses that also look good on a resume, here’s how you can be making small amounts of money in the meantime, here’s some things you can put besides a professional reference, and here are your rights if your future employer tries to take advantage of your disability - which you probably shouldn’t tell them about unless you need accommodations.”
And suddenly my will to continue trying returns!
c…can we maybe get some of those ideas in full? Pls?
Two other people asked as well so okay! Though this post will be rather long.
Freelance Jobs You Do From Home That Look Cool On A Future Resume
Please research any company before sign up with then. So many companies are scams and pay you way less than you deserve for your work. Go to r/freelancers and search to make sure nobody has had some horrid experiences. There’s also usually reviews of a company on YouTube as well.
Transcribing - adding subtitles to videos for deaf and other hard of hearing people. You usually read a big instruction manual, do two or three tests to see how well you can follow the instruction manual, and then get an e-mail if you can work with them or not. Depending on where you sign up, you can also fill out which topics you’re knowledable on and less likely to make mistakes on when transcribing.
Translating - same as transcribing, but now you’re translating one language into another. I have not done this before, so I’d suggest talking to people who have.
Article Writing - there are different websites you can sign up to work for where someone sends in a request for an article about a certain topic, you can write that article, and if they like it they can purchase it from you. Some websites have a ranking system where the more good reviews your article gets, the more money you’ll get paid.
Article Editing - you can also get payed to fix typos and reorganize an article (or list) if writing isn’t your thing.
Top 10 Lists - There are different sites that will pay you to write 10 ten lists. They usually require a specific amount of words and have an author’s guide on their site.
Graphic Designer - if you go to different generic freelance websites, you can often find people who are searching for someone to design logos for their company or banners for their websites. It helps if you have a portfolio as well.
Virtual Assistent - scheduling appointments, answering calls, and managing email accounts from your own home. I haven’t done this one so again, do more research.
Small Amounts Of Money
Qmee - I’ve been using this app for awhile called qmee where you do surveys for money. Surveys usually pay anywhere in between 30 cents and 2 dollars, and they have a feature where if the survey asks you anything sketchy then you can report them. You can also cash out whenever, like you don’t have to build up a certain amount. (If you aren’t American, you may only get a couple surveys per day.) An extra 20 dollars a month isn’t much but it’s nice.
Redbubble - this is where you can put different designs onto different types of clothing, notebooks, mugs, hats, etc. It helps if you have a design that’s from a fandom, references a meme, or fufills a niche. You can also go to TeeSpring if you want to put multiple designs on one item, but you’d have to promote your items yourself as TeeSpring has this issue where you can’t search for new stores who aren’t already popular.
Test Products - once again, please research any company you’re going to do this for. There are companies that will send you products for a week or two and ask for a report on how well it works, what you like/dislike, etc.
If You Don’t Have Anyone To Put On Your Resume As References
Volunteer Somewhere - animal shelters, tutoring, soup kitchens, summer programs, public libraries, etc. If you’re able to volunteer somewhere, you can ask the people there if you can use them as a reference.
Volunteer Online - you can also do online volunteer work if you’re unable to do physical volunteer work. Here’s a list of examples of online volunteer work which includes things like creating a large amount of thank-you cards, transcribing books into digital form, or answer texts or calls on a crisis line. This may be a better option due to covid.
Add Personal References - friends and family members do work (just don’t list them as professional references). It’s especially helpful if you’ve done a project for/with them as well.
Or don’t add references at all - references look good on a resume, but unless you’re writing a federal resume you kind of don’t need them? If someone is interested in hiring you, they may ask if you have any references. You can just say “no, this is my first job” (if it is). They might ask why you haven’t worked before, but you can just say that it’s personal or private information. Or you can give a vague answer like dealing with family matters.
And when working on the pacing of the story, especially around those protagonist-planning stages, keep in mind the Unspoken Plan Guarantee (plus check out the Playing With Trope pages!)
Sorry to bother you, but do you have a link to that one post you made on Twitter about making your own custom breaks on ao3? I thought I bookmarked it but now I can't find it. 😩
there are free use page dividers available on google. you can search to get ideas. the trick is to get it to the size you want in your chosen editing program, and to make the background transparent. select > color range is much more efficient than using the wand tool.
tip: keeping it monochrome and keeping the background and inner details transparent is helpful to people who use skins with a different background color!
(2) upload it somewhere
i use tumblr since it’s quick and fast. save as draft or load it to a separate page on a theme or really anything you want. just get that baby uploaded and copy the url.
ao3 calls this “horizontal line” and it’s useful because it can help you denote where you’ll put your new code because its html tag is <hr /> which is easily searchable in the mess of html you’re going to have to sort through. it looks like this:
(3) put in the page divider.
so now on your uploaded fic you’ll want to go to the html tab instead of the rich text tab and put in your coding. it will look like <center><img src=“whatever the url of your uploaded page divider is” alt=“Page Divider” width=“30%” /></center>
the img src is the image. the alt=“Page Divider” is so screen readers won’t get confused and will just say “page divider” when they come across it. the width tag you can mess with as much as you want until you find a size that works for you! you can switch back and forth between rich text and html to see how it looks as you’re working. this just ensures that no matter how wide the person has the page (desktop vs mobile, for example, it will stay the same size in comparison to the page:
(4) add it everywhere
if you went through and added the horizontal line page divider, this will be easy. just search control+F for <hr /> and replace it everywhere you find it.
and that’s it!! you’re done!! here are some examples of what you can do with it:
have fun with it!!
warning: ao3 likes to add random paragraph tags around these page dividers. i’m sure there’s a way around this by moving where the <center> tag is or something else but i’ve always had to go through and delete extra spaces that pop up around it when i edit my fic. that’s why it’s best to save your custom dividers for the last step. beware!! it’s not a big deal but watch out for it.
you guys have NO idea how frustrated i am knowing those finisher lyrics are ORIGINAL FOR THIS TIKTOK and i CANT listen to this 20s speakeasy lounge sounding ass motherfucker just spit lyrical subjugation for whole albums at a time
You were the caretaker for the mythical beasts of the royal family. Yesterday they decided to replace you with some incompetent noble, before kicking you out of the castle. You then spent the night in a nearby forest. However today you were awakened by the beasts who chose to follow you.
It’s not as though you’ve never slept rough before, and it isn’t difficult to find a good hollow between roots at the base of a tree, put your head on your bag, pull your cloak over you and go to sleep. But the dreams don’t come kindly. Physical exhaustion is one thing, and the body will do as it wills, particularly after walking twenty miles yesterday and twenty miles today; the body is an animal, Auntie always used to say. But the mind is a different beast, and yours paces and charts out the boundaries of its new cage all night long.
You dream about Auntie’s brown hands, one of them stroking a fox-bit peacock to quiet (quiet quiet quiet radiating from her silence), the other hand pinching a golden needle strung with the finest silk thread she could afford that season. The edges of the room are eaten away, bright with fire, and the peacock is quiet quiet quiet but your ears fill with its screams, over and over.
You dream about mending a hunting dog’s broken leg only to hear three weeks later that one of the minor lords ran the dog to death on a fruitless hunt.
You dream about blood under your fingernails. You dream about the young sphinx in her draped and upholstered room, coughing herself to death in winter’s chill. You dream about cages going uncleaned, delicate creatures unfed. You dream about your charges being treated like animals, the way the noblemen treat their animals, and you can’t seem to wake up, and you cry in your sleep.
You dream about an afternoon three days ago, and Lord Iragin’s angry face, eyes pinched tight as he watches you walk under the outstretched horn stumps of the lung his great-grandfather had captured as a young warlord in a foreign land. You were told that the lung had been a terrible enemy, devouring countless numbers of that lord’s men, but the creature has only ever been gentle around you. He is clumsy, stumbling, not graceless but with the sort of sweet inaccuracy of a drunk dancer–Iragin’s great-grandfather had poisoned him, then followed him to his nest and sawed off his horns while he slept, and so he could no longer fly nor even quite walk straight. His back legs didn’t seem to listen to his front legs.
In the old days, he’d been kept in a courtyard with silver chains on every ankle and around his body at regular intervals, but Iragin’s father needed that courtyard to house mercenaries during one of his own intermittent wars, and so the dragon was turned out to an ill-used cow pasture. He slept in a barn, and occasionally, on a sunny day like this, he would crawl his way out to the field, belly dragging on the ground to keep him from falling, and curl up in the sunlight for hours at a time. So many years had passed since his capture that the nobles barely considered him more interesting than a carthorse, and none of them came out to kick him with any regularity anymore.
You met the lung for the first time on a cloudy day, and his scales were the color of rain reflecting off a stream, his eyes glazed over and tired. But on a sunny day like today, he seems a different creature. You brought a pair of buckets of warm water, and a rough scrub brush, and you spend the next hour and a half polishing every scale clean. Underneath the dry, rough coating on the scales you can see faint colors swirling. His eyes roll back into its head in sleepy pleasure as you reach his talons, cracked and stubby. “I wonder if I should get you some sort of scratcher.” you say, and you can feel the usual hiss of the dragon’s voice, so distant but sharp in the back of your head. Scratch on bones, scratch through flesh. He agrees, and you tap him on the nose with the damp brush, scattering jewels of droplets across his cheek. “And then what would happen?” you say. “Eat some snotty fourth cousin of His Lordship and then fall over trying to get over the fence, and someone would spear you before you could get fifty feet away.”
Soon, the lung says, clearer than you have ever heard his voice. It makes all the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, but before you can ask for an explanation, you hear your name. You walk around the lung’s great head, so close that the shadow of his mutilated horns stripes over your eyes for a moment, and the brightness of the returning sun is dazzling.
The first thing you see when your eyes adjust is Lord Iragin’s face, and beside him, the Captain of his guard. And someone you don’t know, someone dressed in doe leather and blue velvet, with shoes far too clean to be this distant from the Palace’s paved walks.
And after that, everything happened very quickly. You were lucky that you were allowed to beg time to pack, and probably that was only due to the influence your Auntie’s name still held here. Lord Kyro, not even a third cousin to the Crown, would be taking over the care of all your creatures now. All your friends. “I have long thought that the worth of any animal can only be told by its strength in the hunt.” Lord Iragin said, smiling, his eyes never leaving yours. “What good are all these relics of my forefathers, eating my grain and my meat, lolling around like the fattened milch cow of some farmyard whore? Kyro and I are going to stage the greatest hunt in this kingdom’s memory, and even in your hovel on the edge of the country, you will hear of it.” In real life, his smile had come and gone, but in your dreams it lingers while he talks, twisting, his voice ringing out like the voice of one of the creatures, in your head but not in your ears. His smile stretches on and on, filling with teeth, and its mirth does not reach his eyes.
You dream, finally, blessedly, of soft feather bedding, of silk over your body. Of square, golden hands brushing the hair back from your face, of being warm enough. Of a gentle voice saying your name, much sweeter than you’ve heard from a human mouth in a very long time.
The sound of your name rings in your physical ears, and you startle awake.
There is a massive shape coiled around your tree, weaving through the trees beyond it, and beside you is a paw whose talons–glimmering in the setting moonlight, so sharp they could cut air–are the length of your entire arm. His scales catch the moonlight too, but more than that they seem to hold their own light. It is the lung, you would recognize him anywhere. But his horns curl metallic over his stormcloud eyes, and his perfectly smooth, shining scales roil with colors you can’t name. “What are you doing here?” you gasp. He tilts his head, looking down–and down, and down, how did you never notice he was so tall? Had you never once seen him standing straight with his belly off the ground?–and you hear him speak:
He sought her and found her not, And waking and sleeping he thought about her. Long he thought; oh! long and anxiously; On his side, on his back, he turned, and back again.
the lung says politely, and his voice is the moving of mountains, the singing of the highest string on the sweetest instrument. Instead of being the voice of a dreamer far away, he sounds close and immediate and as plain as the cut of a razor. His tongue flickers out from his mouth, once, catching you beside the ear, and with his mouth he speaks. “It was time, at last, to shed.” he says. “It has been a tiresome season, and I am ready for something to change.” His long head lowers until his chin is on the ground before you, looking you eye to eye. The streamers along his face and spine curl lazily in a wind you can not feel. And again his communication rises up like a wave beneath you, engulfing you.
My sword I polished for ten years, The frosted blade has never been used. Now, I am presenting it to you; It’ll cut down injustices without fear.
You swallow heavily. “Wouldn’t you like to go home?“
His response is not in words, just in a fierce, bright delight. “Oh, yes, I will go home.“ he says, blowing the bangs back from your face. His breath smells like incense. “But not alone. And for now, I can not leave behind these cousins.” And for the first time since you woke, you notice anything other than him, and you realize all at once that the woods are much more quiet than they would usually be. As quiet as if they are full of predators. The sphinx’s eyes glow green on the other side of the lung, and balanced on her back is the grandchild of your Auntie’s peacock, and huffing all around them are Lord Iragin’s prized hunting dogs.
“Oh, no, your feet!” you say without thinking, remembering twenty miles yesterday and twenty miles today. The dragon laughs, and all around you rises a bright mist. “Worry not for their poor feet.” he says, fond. “I have other ways to bring them where they want to go.” You remember, belatedly, the stories groomsmen told you in an attempt to scare you. “He was five hundred feet long if he was an inch, but faster than a viper.” they said. “He could fly if he cared to, but more than once the King thought he was cornered only to find nothing in the trap but mist, and his own men standing about confused.”
The lung–Oh, dear, I am going to have to learn his name, you think, not just what they called him–is chuckling much closer and warmer in your ear than you had any reason to expect, as around you the forest melts away to mist. For a moment you feel a strong hand at your back, an arm around your shoulders. “So.” he says. “What would you like to do? I have some ideas, if you find you need to think a while.”
(with apologies to Frank Yue for shamelessly stealing his translation of Jia Dao’s “Jian Ke.”)
@fox-bright I’ve been thinking about this story all day. Hope you don’t mind some fan art, haha 💙🐉
OH MY GOD IT’S BEAUTIFUL
Thank you so much! Is it OK if I print out a copy and put it up in my house?
Aaaaa I’m so glad you like it!! 😁 Sure, feel free if you want to!
so i got bored this afternoon and compiled all of the colour panels featuring grimmjow and grimmichi interaction, bc when i want to procrastinate i go hard.
314mb, full colour english translated, using official colouring from the shueisha release. later translations are fan provided, but all earlier ones are official. give it a reblog or a like if you use it 🙏
