#transition states for mind work

[instantedownloads]

The Best Time of Day for Subconscious Mind Work: Unlock Your Hidden Potential

Introduction Have you ever noticed how some days your mind feels clearer than others? This isn’t random. Your subconscious mind—the powerful force behind 95% of your thoughts and behaviors—has peak hours of receptivity. Knowing these optimal times can transform your results. Working with your subconscious is like gardening. You need the right season, time of day, and conditions for seeds to…

[hundredpocketed]

dress i found for free on the street on the way to our morning coffee date 🗝️ picture of the baby lambs at home, sent to me by my dad the other day 🪽

[collecting--stardust]

Guess who's spending Eid away from home again next year lol

[kissinglure]

my queue is gonna run out soon sry. I've been a little all over the place

[joy-haver]

Something I’ve noticed is that leftist movements tend to turn practical, thought out tactics that were part of a larger plan for liberation, and remove them from their context. Then we often use these tactics as symbolic ways to mark our distaste for empire and harken back to older movements. However, these tactics are often already accounted for by the system, and sometimes are actively encouraged as ways to harm our people and defang our processes.

Here is an example;

In the Civil Rights struggle, getting arrested en mass was seen as an important part of the process of freedom. The civil rights leaders realized that the areas they were in did not have large enough jails to confine them all, and that if they filled the jails up, the police simply could not confine everyone else in the movement. Getting arrested in coordinated ways was a noble and helpful sacrifice that kept your brothers and sisters from getting arrested. Due to less strict sentencing at the time, and the ability of the movement to scare the police into releasing people, getting arrested often wasn’t the utterly disabling and free-life ending process it is today. (That’s not to say getting arrested was easy on people; the police brutality of the time was incredibly intense.)

Those who spent time in jail were given almost a reverent status. That had gone through much suffering to keep others from the same fate. Often, their ability to taking confinement completely off the table for the rest of the activists is precisely what allowed for certain other actions to be successful. Paying for legal defense and moderate bail costs was something of a drain on the movements scant, resources but it could often be worth it due to the role arrests played.

However, the state responded to this, and turned it to their benefit. The next fifty years saw a prison boom. Now, economically deprived small towns were made to bid and beg for prisons to be built in there areas; not only to lock people up, but also because working at the prison was presented as one of the only jobs left in rural America. Additionally, thisdrove the labor minded population to be further in conflict with other movements in some areas.

As the capacity of the government to capture and confine increased, the capacity of the movement to fill up the jails and prevent further arrests did not. Now, the system was hungry for more and more bodies for its endless rooms. It further instilled and mechanized the capacity of prisons to force labor, undercutting labor movements. Sentences became longer, parole became stricter, fines and restitutions increased to exorbitant amounts. Those who went in for petty arrests often never came out.

But, the feeling that getting arrested was a noble and venerable goal did not leave the movement. Some transitioned tactics; instead of filling up the jails to allow others to act without recourse, they sought to get arrested in test cases, as they had seen work occasionally before. But this too became more and more difficult, as the legal system realized it did not have to play by its own rules. Slowly but surely, the legal mythology that because it is written and because it is fair, it will be ruled so, began to overtake the minds of activists; even as they failed time and time again to win this way, they still threw countless of their friends into the mouth of the enemy, and condemned them to life in prison.

Even this had become a shadow of itself by the 2000s and 2010s. Arrest became an aesthetic goal instead of a practical one. The most radical in the movements were culturally encouraged to throw their lives away for petty protests that none would see, and would have no material impact on the operations of the system of dominion. The reality that getting kettled at a non violent protest could land you with the same jail time as a political assassination did not dawn upon these activists until long after hey were already in jail, and already disconnected from the movement. Their friends would gather all their meager savings towards bail funds, oftentimes going into debt, or otherwise extracting money from the rest of the marginalized communities supportive of the activism. Those funds would then go to the government in the form of bail, and then right back towards operating the same policing systems that targeted them. In this way, the main economic output of the leftists movement of the time was to fund the very systems of policing that they sought to destroy; and to get themselves and each other locked in cages in the process. Instead of developing practical systems of change, radicals were taught to emulate key aspects of the tactics of prior generations that had specifically been recuperated into the goals of the state.

Those who saw the futility in this were readily pushed towards the defanged and self acknowledged pointless marches of the nonviolent liberal movement, which never had any goal other than to once again emulate the visual aesthetics and personal emotional fulfillment of past movements.

We see this pattern play out all the time. People insisting on the radical importance of a leftist print newspaper in a time when print journalism is dead. A fetishization of industrial unionism in a town where no factory has been for three generations. Arguments over whether to support long defunct governments and long dead leaders for some tactical benefit which will never arise from reality.

It is long past time for us to realize that the process of achieving human liberation does not come from symbolic actions, nor from following the playbook of past movements. We must learn our history, yes, but not to emulate it; instead we must learn it to understand its failures and its successes, and, most importantly, how our movement ancestors interacted with the material conditions of their time to create multifaceted plans that met the needs of their people and made successful guerrilla war upon dominion.

We need to imagine ways of making change that are suited to the times that we are living in, the problems we face, and the opportunities that we have. This utterly necessitates that we get deeply embedded into the places and communities around us, that we listen with open ears to the problems our people are facing, and that we fold those ever more towards opportunities of liberation and care for one another.

[genderqueerpositivity]

I think that 2023 is a good time for many of us, and allies in particular, to practice again the dying art of minding our own fucking business when it comes to the identities and lives of other people.

You see someone from one of your classes in a public place with a different gender presentation/expression than they typically have? Mind your own business.

You discover that one of your coworkers is in a same gender relationship, but they aren't out at work? Not your place to share that information in the workplace.

You notice that your neighbor in a red state takes a road trip across state lines with their transgender child every 3-6 months? No you fucking didn't.

You overhear students in your classroom using a different name and different pronouns for one student than you are used to using? If you live in a state hostile to trans rights, pretend that you don't know anything about this and report nothing.

You suspect that an acquaintance of yours might be gay, but they deny it when asked directly? Leave them the fuck alone.

One of your friends refuses to publicly label their sexuality? Good for them, you aren't entitled to that information anyway.

Your sibling comes out to you as questioning, but isn't comfortable sharing that with your parents yet? Keep your fucking mouth shut.

Don't out people; coming out is a personal choice not a moral obligation. Don't demand personal information about other people's sexuality or sex lives. You aren't entitled to information about anyone's gender identity, assigned gender at birth, or transition.

Bring back privacy, allow people to have control over the information that is shared about them publicly; it might save their job, their housing, their parental rights and their child's safety, or even save lives.

[salemlunaa]

EMBRACE THE FATIGUE, DONT FIGHT IT ∘˚ 𓆡

STATE AKIN TO SLEEP: LET’S TALK ABOUT IT

so i saw a success story form this cutie, @kamiiik0 about how she induced the void state using SATS, and have realised that a lot of people complain to my about falling asleep during their inducing process. They fall asleep after affirming mindlessly and beat themselves up in the morning.

And to that i ask: why don’t you embrace the sleep, use it your advantage? I made a post about this a while ago, but a refresh is always nice!

STATE AKIN TO SLEEP, or SATS is a concept popularised by Neville Goddard. It refers to the state you are in just before you drift off to sleep. It’s seen as quite powerful as that area between awake and asleep is when your subconscious mind is more dominant and can be easily impressed.

PROOF: The Law and the Promise (published in 1961): Neville Goddard’s manifesting class.

He recalled when he asked that his students affirm/visualise climbing a ladder during SATS. He then told them to affirm against it during the day, telling themselves that they will NOT climb a ladder. He told his students not to come back if they didn’t climb a ladder and everyone returned.

METHOD: Now what do you actually need to do? Get into a comfortable position, you can start with heavy breathing or just wait for a time where you feel sleepy. Start to affirm how relaxed you are. Then you should start to focus on the darkness behind your eyes. Tell yourself you’re drifting off and that when you fall asleep you will find yourself in the state of pure consciousness.

“ I AM” don’t force yourself to stay awake while affirming this, instead as you feel yourself drifting off to sleep have the knowing that there is no “what if”s or “maybe”s. You will wake up in the state of pure consciousness, then next time you wake up WILL be in the “I AM” state. And that is what will happen.

Don’t force yourself to stay awake, no effort should be needed in any areas when inducing

Now, a reason a lot of you sleepyheads stray away from this method is that you don’t trust yourself to wake up in the void state. You don’t trust that when you wake up you’ll have induced the state of pure consciousness. You don’t want to leave it up to your subconscious mind to be in charge of whether you induce the void state or not. You feel like you need to see it through or it won’t work and you’ll just wake up where you left off.

And to this i urge you to trust yourself. Do i need to remind you of who you are? The void state is a state of consciousness just like sleep and wake are. The same amount of simplicity that is in the transition from being asleep to being awake is the same simplicity needed to step into that state of pure consciousness.

Trust your affirmations and give yourself no room to doubt, as soon as your eyes shut for the last time before you drift off in slumber, know that the next time you are conscious and aware it will be in the state of the void

LET YOURSELF GO, EVEN IF THAT MEANS NOT STAYING AWAKE

[tenok]

.

[adelina-shifts]

i know it's a lot to read, but this may help you shift

(not my content, credits to Quackisp on reddit)

I have the exact same problem now :/ I'm also a logical person and had the exact same way rationalising shifting. This post really resonated with what I do and how I think. I personally gaslight myself into thinking a specific method WILL give me results because of my own articulated logic behind it and I actually shifted for the first time with it. It was the sinking method and I believed that it would be best for me to use it to shift because it requires you to have a transition into your dr. If that makes sense?

I can't visualise at all and I can't pretend to feel any of the senses which really deterred me in my journey cuz I thought that not being able to do those would hold me back and I wouldn't have as many opportunities with shifting as the people who could carry these actions out. And after thinking and mulling it over alot I found that I formed a sort of reasoning behind my problem that these methods which I cant do because of my hindrances have some type of transition into the other reality. Like the double sided staircase method. If I did a non-visualization or sleep method it would mean counting and affirming then laying in wait to shift or fall asleep which I subconsciously thought I wouldn't by that time cuz I overthink alot.

Also void state wouldn't work cuz I couldn't no matter how hard I tried get into it and I couldn't lucid dream after years of trying so that means not being able to do the lucid dream method. And the adhd method had so many steps that I would focus on remembering the STEPS and which comes after which instead of where I'm going. All other methods like the Julia and raven are ruled out as well cuz again I'd just have to affirm and wait while my mind wandered.

But the sinking method seemed immensely easier and made more sense in my mind. Though now looking back on it, it could've easily been a method that requires heavy visualising and pretending to feel stuff but because the creator of the method specified that it wasn't a visualising method I tried it wholeheartedly.

The steps are:

Affirm that your dr self/dr body is directly beneath your bed. Until you believe it.

Then count from 1 to 100 or what ever number of your choice and between each number breathe in and out. While breathing out feel yourself sink into your mattress.

You could also say affirmations like "I'm sinking into my dr self." And actually try to feel yourself sink into it and do this until you feel like you've fully sunk down to your dr self.

Fall asleep upon feeling so or open your eyes if you feel like you're in your dr.

So my way of thinking was that I could make a transition into dr easily like this and that's why this method worked for me.

TLDR: gaslight yourself with facts and logic that a certain method might work for you because of "____ reason" and it will.

Also writing this reply made me realise that if I use my own tip and gaslight myself into thinking that a specific thing works for me then it will because that's essentially what I did the first time I shifted.

[fawnsuga]

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎢𓎟𓎡⠀ ݁🕯️⠀⠀dylan bennet klebold⠀⠀၇ৎܵ⠀𓎢𓎟𓎡

Dylan Bennet Klebold Date of Birth: September 11, 1981 Height: 6 ft 2.5 in Weight: 143 lbs

Dylan Klebold was the 17-year-old son of Mr. Thomas Klebold (then 52) and Mrs. Susan (Yassenoff) Klebold (then 50). He was the younger brother of Byron, who was 21 at the time.

Tom Klebold was a geophysicist, and Sue Klebold worked with individuals with disabilities. Both were originally from Columbus, Ohio, and were alumni of Ohio State University. Sue hailed from a prominent Jewish community in Columbus and was the granddaughter of the late philanthropist and construction magnate Leo Yassenoff, who established the local Jewish community center in Columbus that bears his name. Dylan was born in Lakewood, Colorado.

Dylan attended Normandy Elementary School in Littleton, Colorado, for first and second grade before transferring to Governor's Ranch Elementary School, where he participated in the CHIPS (Challenging High Intellectual Potential Students) program for gifted and talented children. His parents reported that he was somewhat sheltered at Governor's Ranch Elementary and believed his transition to Ken Caryl Middle School was challenging due to his quiet and shy demeanor. Transitioning from elementary school to middle school can be difficult for many adolescents, so his parents were not overly concerned.

During his earlier school years, Dylan participated in T-ball, baseball, and soccer. He was in Cub Scouts with his friend Brooks Brown, whom he had known since first grade. Dylan met Eric Harris while attending Ken Caryl Middle School in seventh or eighth grade. Brooks lived near Eric's new home and rode the same bus as him. The three boys soon formed a close friendship. Subsequently, Eric introduced Dylan to Nathan (Nate) Dykeman, who also attended Ken Caryl, and the boys became good friends. Dylan also met Chris Morris around that time, and they would eventually become best friends.

In 1995, all four boys transitioned to Columbine High School as freshmen. At Columbine, Dylan was active in school productions as a light and sound coordinator and was involved in video productions and the school’s Rebel News Network. He created several videos with Nate for the Rebel News Network announcements and another in November 1998 to show Nate's father his school and home environment.

Klebold received commendation for assisting during Rachel Scott's performance of "Watch the Lamb" when technical difficulties arose; he provided a backup tape to ensure the show could continue. He served as a computer assistant at school and helped maintain the school's computer server. He regularly played Fantasy Baseball with Chad Laughlin. Other players noted that he discussed plays happening the week of April 20, giving no indication he would not be present after that Tuesday.

Neighbors of the Klebold family described them as a model family. Sherry Higgins, the mother of a friend of Dylan and Eric, commented on the teens' "Hitmen for Hire" video, stating it was presented to her as a spoof about hitmen avenging the weak at Columbine. In retrospect, she acknowledged that this should have been a warning sign regarding Dylan's state of mind.

Following the shooting, Dylan's parents initially maintained they were unaware of their son's troubling behavior. Reports indicated that Sue was shocked by her son's actions, stating she had no forewarning of the forthcoming tragedy. Dylan's older brother Byron also expressed surprise at his younger brother's actions. The only firearm the family owned was a BB gun intended for pest control. Friends of Dylan noted that, while they observed Eric being bullied at school, they did not witness similar treatment directed at Klebold, who was perceived as too tall, too lanky, and too overlooked by those outside his friend group.

However, it was evident that Dylan was grappling with internal issues. Years later, Dylan's parents acknowledged in interviews that they had overlooked signs of his unhappiness, failing to recognize the clues that were apparent in hindsight.

Columbine's senior prom took place on April 17, 1999. Dylan attended the event by limousine with 12 friends. Nate Dykeman reported that nothing seemed amiss that evening; everything went "perfect." Dylan spoke enthusiastically about his future plans, which included attending the University of Arizona to major in computer science. He conveyed to his friends that he was genuinely excited about his future. His parents had already secured a dorm room for him. The entire family traveled to Arizona on March 25, 1999, to finalize Dylan's accommodations.

Dylan's prom date was Robyn K. Anderson, a friend he had met at a Christmas party years earlier. As a senior at Columbine, she attended the event with him as a platonic friend, not a romantic interest. Contrary to early media reports, Robyn and Dylan were not involved romantically; while Robyn had a crush on him, Dylan did not reciprocate. She proudly proclaimed to another male friend shortly before the prom, "I convinced my friend Dylan, who hates dances, jocks, and has never had a date, let alone a girlfriend, to go with me! I am either really cute or just really persuasive!"

Robyn Anderson assisted in the purchase of the two shotguns and the rifle used in the assault, acting as a middleman since Dylan and Eric were not yet 18, the legal age to purchase firearms in Colorado. Dylan boasted on one of the Basement Tapes that the seller was aware he was purchasing the gun. Shortly before the acquisition, the owner of Dragon Arms gun shop in Littleton reported that five teenagers attempted to purchase an M-60 machine gun and a silencer-equipped assault pistol in early March. Although the five appeared on store surveillance footage, it remains unclear if any of them were Dylan or Eric.

Dylan was frequently described as a follower, heavily influenced by Eric, particularly after 1998. Those who knew him characterized him as a young man lacking self-confidence—"painfully shy," according to some—but not prone to anger.

This shy demeanor is not universally recalled by those who knew him, particularly those closest to him in the months leading up to the shootings. His and Eric's behavior at Blackjack Pizza, where they worked, did not conform to this image. When bored, they purchased dry ice from a nearby Baskin-Robbins to create small bombs for detonation behind the pizza establishment. Dylan was once reprimanded for bringing a pipe bomb to work. He resigned shortly thereafter but was rehired when the restaurant required staff. On at least two occasions, the previous owner permitted Dylan and Eric to ignite aerosol cans—once in a mop sink and another in an oven. They frequently engaged in reckless fireplay behind the establishment, resulting in a dumpster fire that necessitated intervention from the fire department.

Dylan was known to use profanity in front of teachers and was suspended from school (along with Eric and another student) for hacking into the school's computer system to obtain locker combinations, which they used to leave a threatening note in an adversary's locker. Nate Dykeman reported that Dylan and Eric had taken computer parts from the school without permission. Dylan's father had previously compelled him to return a stolen laptop computer. A dean of students, who had seen Dylan and Eric in his office multiple times, told police he was not surprised they were involved, having observed "the potential for an 'evil side'... that there was a violent, angry streak in these kids."

Students in their early morning bowling class reported that Dylan and Eric would shout "Heil Hitler!" after rolling a good ball. Tom Klebold stated he was unaware of the origins of the Nazi references or the violence. The Klebolds were Jewish. Nate mentioned he had seen Eric draw swastikas, but Dylan never did, making it difficult to ascertain how much Dylan supported the Nazi movement. This inclination would seem inconsistent with the background of a Jewish-born individual, as would the violent tendencies he concealed from his family.

Dykeman informed police that he had witnessed Dylan making a purchase behind Blackjack Pizza, giving Philip Duran, a co-worker, approximately 200−200−300. Nate suspected Dylan was buying drugs, but Dylan clarified he was purchasing a gun (the TEC-DC9, which Mark Manes supplied with Philip's assistance as an intermediary). Following the acquisition of weapons, Eric and Dylan filmed a video at Rampart Range, where they practiced shooting the sawed-off shotguns and the TEC-DC9. Mark and his friend Jessica Miklich were present during this session. The videotape of their target practice was recorded in March and shown to Nate just two weeks before the Columbine shootings. Dykeman reported the existence of the tape to investigators three days post-tragedy.

In the weeks leading up to the massacre, Dylan submitted a school report that was graphically violent, prompting the teacher to inform his parents. Dylan rationalized, "It's just a story," an explanation readily accepted by his parents. The narrative detailed a lone warrior in a trench coat who—described in gruesome detail—beat, stabbed, and shot a group of "college-preps." The character then detonated bombs to divert the police's attention. The language used to characterize the "enemies" was so extreme that the teacher, Judy Kelly, refused to grade the paper until she spoke with Dylan. The families of three victims named Kelly, alongside other school employees, filed wrongful death lawsuits, arguing she should have taken more action to highlight Dylan's violent fantasies.

The Klebolds fully cooperated with Denver police in the aftermath of the massacre. Among the evidence confiscated were five videotapes, three of which featured the teens in the basement of Eric's home. In these videos, Dylan's darker side emerged; he was not merely a hapless follower of Eric. Instead, he exhibited characteristics of an angry young man intent on causing harm, evident in both his words and body language.

Dylan and Eric vented frustrations about their peers, referring to them as "stuck-up bitches." Dylan specifically named two individuals: Rachel and Jen. Clips from the videos were censored by the media due to the vulgar epithets he directed at the girls, making it difficult to interpret their full context. They also mentioned someone named Nick. Rachel Scott—the first victim—was the prom date of Nick Baumgart, a childhood friend of Dylan and a mutual acquaintance of Eric. Dylan had known Rachel since kindergarten, though it is unclear if these were the individuals referred to in the video.

In October 1999, the Klebolds announced their intention to sue the Jefferson County police department. Their claim was based on the assertion that had the police taken the Browns' report about Eric's threats against Brooks more seriously, the situation might not have escalated to tragedy. Several families of the victims expressed support for this position, including the family of Daniel Rohrbough.

There was some controversy surrounding Dylan's death; he succumbed to a single gunshot wound to the left temple. Investigators initially posited that if Dylan intended to commit suicide, he would have shot himself in the right temple. However, Dylan was left-handed, and his use of firearms with his left hand is evident in the video footage he left behind. The coroner classified his death as a suicide in the autopsy report. The Klebolds' attorney, Frank Patterson, confirmed on behalf of the family that Dylan was indeed left-handed, and they supported the medical examiner's findings.

Open Letter from the Parents of Dylan Klebold:

Nearly a year has passed since tragedy changed the Columbine community forever. A day that began innocently ended catastrophically. The healing process has moved slowly as we all attempt to cope, not only with our own despair but also with the distractions and intrusions that result from world attention.

There are no words to convey how sorry we are for the pain that has been brought upon the community as a result of our son's actions. The pain of others compounds our own as we struggle to live a life without the son we cherished. In the reality of the Columbine tragedy and its aftermath, we join the rest of the world in seeking to understand how such events could transpire.

We are convinced that the only way to truly honor all victims of this and other related tragedies is to move clearly and methodically toward an understanding of why they occur, so that we may work to prevent such madness from happening again. It is our intention to pursue this goal, believing that answers are likely within reach, though they will not be simple. We envision a time when circumstances will allow us to engage with those who share our desire to understand. In the meantime, we again express our profound condolences to those whose lives have been so tragically altered. We look forward to a day when our collective pain is replaced by peace and acceptance.

Finally, we wish to extend our gratitude to those who have sent their kind thoughts, prayers, and expressions of support to our family. We are constantly surprised and heartened by the gestures of understanding and compassion that have been extended to us. This support has been both humbling and inspiring, and we are truly indebted to those who have offered it.

The Klebold Family — April 15, 2000

September 11, 1981 - April 20, 1999 Dylan was a reserved individual who enjoyed playing computer games such as Duke Nukem, Quake, and Doom, and he built his own computer with a Linux operating system. He exhibited high intelligence and was enrolled in the gifted program at Governor's Ranch Elementary School known as C.H.I.P.S. (Challenging High Intellectual Potential Students) by third grade. This program concluded after sixth grade. While attending Columbine, Dylan took pleasure in creating home videos for his video production class and was heavily involved in theater productions, managing the sound system.

Dylan often felt awkward around his peers and was unaware of the extent to which he was loved by his friends and family. He experienced feelings of isolation and alienation and longed for a type of love he believed was unattainable.

Dylan's funeral was held at St. Philip Lutheran Church, the family’s place of worship. The service was private, attended by only 13 individuals, and was officiated by Reverend Don Marxhausen, who subsequently resigned from his position in August 2000. Reverend Marxhausen also officiated the funeral of basketball star Greg Barnes. Dylan was cremated, and there is no known physical memorial location.

[neverstophyo]

shifting is self discovery.

excuse the yap but i think it’s very important that people realize how fundamental you are in your shifting journey and that you are literally the only thing you need to shift.

you do NOT need:

a method

subliminals

(guided) meditation

to look for advice hour after hour online

symptoms

the void state

lucid dreaming

to visualize

to use your 5 senses

a script

you DO need:

yourself

you can say fuck you to the universe, doubt as much as you want, and still shift. i say that because i’ve done it before even with doubts! so you can too!

“how do i shift?”

every time someone asks this i lose 5 years off my life span. i can’t determine that for you, nobody can. i can tell you what has personally worked for me and so can others, but there’s no guarantee it’ll work for you.

“so what do i do?”

sounds a bit harsh but you figure it out. and that’s what i mean by self-discovery.

of course, you can & should see what other people are doing to create a base line of what you think could work for you. for example try getting into the void state, see what happens from there. doesn’t work or you don’t like it? (because that obviously won’t do the same thing for everyone) try something else!

play around. add new things into the mix. affirmations. intention. you can visualize or use your 5 senses. keyword can. you don’t have to. because what do i think works the best? minding your business and shifting your own way.

remember that you can literally just say “fuck you i want to shift” and shift. you can shift accidentally. so who’s to say what you’re doing doesn’t work? (if it really doesn’t then you can adjust it slightly. look back on your behavior and think about what you want to change.)

seriously!

you can shift:

tired

awake

asleep

in the hypnagogic state (the state of the transition from wakefulness to sleep)

in the hypnopompic state (the state of consciousness leading out of sleep)

while dancing

sitting

standing

laying down

on the floor

accidentally

through a lucid dream

with doubts

and so much more i didn’t mention. seriously no need to overcomplicate it.

just remember that other peoples’ shifting journeys are not yours and that you’re the most important part of your own.

you are what makes you shift.

it’s not your subliminals or your method or whatever, it’s you. YOUUUU. subliminals? “methods”? those things? just helpful tools. they can HELP you shift, but there’s no guarantee.

for example, i personally have been getting more effective results after listening to specific subliminals regularly (psst.. i make sure they’re safe! to check if they are safe, look at the comments around the page and if you’re still not sure and you feel uneasy then do not use the subliminal. if it makes you feel unsafe or weird then do not use it. always read the benefits or what you can find in the description.) it works for me. it got me results (along with other stuff) but it might not give them to you and that’s okay. you don’t have to use subs.

just a reminder that you don’t need anything but yourself to shift <3

it’s self discovery because you’re learning from it and actively finding out (discovering) what works for you.

your shifting journey is yours so don’t make it rely on what someone else does.

THERE’S NO KEY TO SHIFTING EXCEPT YOURSELF.

[lunarxcity]

Why lie? (Part VIII to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort ( angst angst confessions and more angst!! Don't mind me rubbing my hands together and cackling maniacally in the corner)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI, and VII if you missed them!

-

Your mother had once told you that the longer you ignore a problem and let your emotions brew, the thicker your anger becomes. You do appreciate the sentiment of dealing with your problems head on and you kept that in mind as you downed your 6th? Maybe 7th? Goblet of wine.

Right now you didn't want to deal with your emotions or the emotionally charged state that Azriel's presence had left you in so you did the next best thing and had gotten drunk.

Laughing unboundedly, you spin Nesta around on the dance floor. The music played, an accompaniment to the sound of the Night Court revelry. It had been a few hours since you had arrived and after your reunion with the court, you had been drinking and dancing for the rest of the Night.

The lively music which had been playing began to transition into a slow dance. The last dance of the evening, according to the conductor of the mini-orchestra that your brother had hired. Cassian marched up to you guys and held his hand out, an unspoken invitation for his mate. She nodded to you, half in apology and half in thanks, and was whisked away by the Illyrian warrior.

You sighed, unable to tell if you were dizzy from the spinning or from all the drinks you'd had throughout the night. Azriel was usually your dance partner at the end of the night. While everyone would pair off with their mate, it had become an unspoken promise that you guys would save the last dance for each other. He would whisper bits of information he learned throughout the ball, and you would try to not look shocked at some of the things that he's learned. It would give you both a moment of respite from your roles and actually let you enjoy yourselves at the ball.

You did see Azriel leaning against a pillar in all his glory, blade on his hip and cat-like hazel eyes scanning the room accompanying his blue siphons and wind-tousled hair. He looked like a dream. One that you've had many times over the years where the spymaster saves you from irreparable danger and confesses his undying love. It was a dream that had started in your adolescence, and now you saw why it needed to stay there.

Your mate. The one you were supposed to be destined to be with. The one you had to watch be in love with another member of your family. Twice. Your traitorous heart skipped a beat or two.

You put in too much work and had gone through too much pain to still be hung up over him. A single dance wouldn't change anything. You turn around giving your back to the shadowsinger and see Eris directly in front of you.

He doesn't even give you a chance to question him as he grabs your hand with one hand and your waist with the other and whisks you away into a Waltz.

-

You're sitting at your vanity for the first time in months. After your dance with Eris, the ball had ended and everyone had gone home. Your room is different from how you remembered it, the emptiness of your objects was something you were expecting, but all your things had appeared to be slightly shifted which had thrown you off.

There was also another scent that seemed to underly all your things that you were choosing to ignore, thinking about for peace of mind.

You were freshly showered and in your nightgown. Your room was dimly lit, with the only source of light being a few candles that were flickering in the dark.

You were brushing your hair when there was a knock at the door. "Come in." You looked in your mirror to see who entered. Your hand stopped mid-brush as your eyes met Azriel's hazel ones through the mirror.

He opened the door and began to enter the room timidly, like a child approaching a cat scared that they were going to scare it away.

His voice is soft and careful, "I didn't see you after the ball." No questions about why you blew up at him or what you meant to say before you were cut off.

You take a breath. You really didn't want to see him tonight, you thought that you had time before you had to speak with him again, but it seems like Azriel's will is stronger than your avoidance.

"I left right as it was over. I had to help Eris and Lucien settle in." The tension in the room was palpable. Your words had been polite, but there was a bite in them. You never leave without Azriel. He was only a few feet away, but distance between you two was greater than it has ever been.

"You have been spending a lot of time with them lately. Especially Eris." His words were bitter, like poison, the kind that he wished he could have slipped into Eris' drink when he saw you and him dancing together.

"Well, I'm sorry if I wanted to be hospitable to official guests of the Night Court during their stay here. Especially when they treated me so well in Autumn." Your anger immediately flared up. How dare he question you in this way.

"Well, what I was seeing seemed a lot more than hospitality." Azriel knew he messed up the second the words were out. He had gotten a better handle on his emotions since the mating bond snapped, but seeing you with Eris dancing and laughing all evening was something that he wasn't prepared for when it was him who you were supposed to be dancing with.

Seeing his mate in the arms of another opened up the floodgates of emotions that he wasn't prepared to deal with.

You put your hairbrush down. "You are seriously putting my integrity into question? Also what I do with whom is none of your business shadowsinger."

You turn around to face him, a million emotions burning in your eyes, "Besides, why do you care when you are already pursuing a relationship with one of their mates?" He flinched at the last word that left your tongue.

His wings dropped and there was a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite place. Fear? Shock? You had never spoken to him like this. He didn't know what to do or how to react.

You started at each other in the silence until he decided to break it.

"Why did you never tell me you were upset with me? You're telling me I can't fault you when you left without saying a word?" He asks almost pleadingly.

"I had to sit here and watch you talk to everyone else in our family, knowing that I had somehow wronged you without knowing what it was that I even did." He broke eye contact, took a breath and resumed.

You were shocked you had no idea where this was coming from or that he was this aware of your actions in the first place.

"You can't say it wasn't me because I know you and every sign points to me being the reason you left. You leave without telling me and then come back and ignore me. You're acting all buddy buddy with enemies of the Night Court and refuse to talk to me." You look away from him, it's your turn to avoid eye contact now.

He doesn't accept this and walks up to and gets on a knee. He's so tall that kneeling, he is almost eye level to you sitting. He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

"What happened to us?" He is almost pleading with you. Longing in his gaze, but longing for what? Longing for the attention he's been accustomed to that you won't give him anymore?

You're exhausted you can't even pretend that nothing is wrong anymore. You meet his eyes, resolution written across your features.

"You have a family that loves you Azriel. You have Rhys, you have Cass, and you have me. You were going to throw all of that away for a Blood Duel with Lucien Vanserra over Elain."

Panic flashes across his features. "That was in the past I've changed-" He tries to reassure you with everything he has in himself that it was in his past. He's changed. Why would he want that when his mate was right in front of him?

"You were ready to die, Azriel, and I understand that you think your life is worthless and I wish I could go into your head and change the way you think and I wish I could go back in time and cut down anyone who has ever wronged you and make sure that your father suffers tenfold, but you were going to leave behind everyone that loves you for a woman with a mate." Tears well up in your eyes and you take a breath.

You are really trying to hold it together, but you don't care anymore about hiding anything from him. There was a crack in the dam and everything came spilling out.

"I know you saw the blade I was going to gift you for Christmas. It wards off a singular death blow and I spent so long calling in favours and having it crafted for you because I know that with your loyalty and selflessness, you would one day meet your end in the name of someone you loved."

Azriel's resolve is cracking and you can see his eyes beginning to glisten in the candlelight. His shadows left him, giving you guys privacy for this tense moment except for the singular shadow that has been sitting on your wrist for months.

"I would have given you the blade for the duel, but that would've been the end of our relationship as you knew it."

More tears spill and you don't even try to fight them. "I dealt with you prioritising Elain over me and I have dealt with your questionable decisions when it comes to women for hundreds of years, but to kill Lucien for wanting to fight for his mate or killing yourself because you think you're unworthy of everything in this life is something I couldn't deal with. Not when I have spent my entire life being there for you and fighting for you."

You were full on crying and Azriel was fighting tears. You can could the number of times on your hands that you had ever seen Azriel cry.

His hands move from your face to your hands and he hands his head in shame.

"I couldn't- I can't" You hiccup.

He pulls you into his chest, you want to fight him, but you are full-on sobbing and no matter how mad you are at him he is a comfort that you struggle to resist, especially in your emotionally exhausted state.

"You can't expect me to just sit there and watch that and pretend like I'm not upset." Your words are muffled in his chest.

He's stroking your hair with one hand and holding you close with another. "I was very unhappy. I thought something was missing and the answer to the emptiness within myself was Elain. It seemed too perfect, three brothers for three sisters and I told myself that. I convinced myself that I would never be truly happy until I had what my brothers had."

Azriel takes a breath. He's not used to spilling his emotions out for anyone to hear them, he's been working on it, but this sort of thing was new for him.

"I thought our bond was solid and you said you didn't mind me spending time with Elain, so that's what I focused on. The emptiness had never gone away and I convinced myself that the Blood Duel would fix my problem one way or another."

You pulled back from his chest and he made sure you were looking him in the eye as he said this because he knows he would never be able to say it again.

"I'm so sorry for everything. I have never had anyone care about me the way that you do and I became so used to it that I started to think it was a right, that I was entitled to your care."

He blinks away tears and looks to the side, pausing momentarily as if he's trying to find the words.

"I have never been more miserable than in the time that you were gone. Not hearing from you is the worst punishment the Mother has ever bestowed me with and I would rather give the wings off my back than to sentence myself to that treacherous fate. I'm sorry I was so careless before."

He takes your hand and puts it over his heart. "I swear to the Mother or whatever gods that will listen that should I forsake you ever again in either this life or the next, that may they take pity on my wayward soul and sentence me to a fate worse than death for all eternity."

You feel his heart racing under your palm and you feel the breath that he takes. "The only terrible fate that I can imagine of that magnitude is being away from you. Is never being around you or seeing your smile or hearing you laugh because if there was one person that I would ever want to be stuck with for all eternity it would be you."

His eyes bear into your soul with an intensity you had never seen from the shadowsinger. He is very good at his job, but has never been one to deal with his personal problems head on.

You feel the mating bond in your chest. It has been snuffed out for a while, a result of you ignoring it, but now you felt it stirring, almost fighting for its survival.

"You don't have to forgive me right now or even a hundred years from now. But I need you to know that I am sorry for everything and I will fight to earn your trust again and be worthy of you."

His eyes flashed with a determination you had never seen directed at you from the shadowsinger and you had no idea how to react.

You just nodded your head. "Thank you Azriel."

-

Azriel has never had to pour his heart out like this. He never realised how hurt you were from his actions and it certainly didn't help that he could feel your emotions through the bond.

He brings you in again in an all-consuming hug and feels pain, so much agony that must have been building up for years and years. He brings you in to an all encompassing embrace and begins to cry into your shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

He cries out and means it. He can feel the wetness on his shirt from your tears while he mars your nightgown with his own. He sits there and holds you as he falls apart and you let him, never seeing him in this state before.

He feels your pain and his own and the world feels like it's ending, but the contrast of the comforting warmth of your hold keeps him together.

At one point he noticed that your breathing had evened out. You had fallen asleep. He carries you over to your bed and lies you down. He sits next to you a moment taking in your features.

Your brow is furrowed and your jaw is clenched, for a moment he's scared that his anxieties and anguish are bleeding onto your side of the bond, but since it hasn't snapped for you yet he shakes the thought off.

At the sight of you sleeping, his shadows come back and encompass your resting form. They surround you, checking your sleeping form for danger and settle around your outline in the bed.

Azriel begins to feel the exhaustion of the past day settle into his bones. The mating bond snapping. His fight with Rhys. Watching you dance with Eris at the ball. Fighting with you. Spilling his feelings out. It had all been so much both physically and emotionally.

He was about to make the move to get up when you started mumbling in your sleep. He turned back to you and you turned in your sleep towards him.

Azriel watched you for a moment longer and unknowingly, in your sleep you had grabbed his arm. Azriel didn't know what to do because he should get up, but you were here holding onto him.

He brushed your arm off and had begun to walk away when you had started tossing and turning. He told himself that this was for your benefit, that you needed a good night's sleep and that he would be gone before you even woke up.

Bringing over one of the chair's right next to your bed, he sits himself down next to you. He leaves his arm on the bed and you immediately roll over and press your check into his hand, holding onto his arm. He lets himself revel in the touch because he knows it's the only one he is going to get from you.

Your tossing, turning, and mumbling stopped and he heard your breathing and heartbeat even out, as you were taken into a deep sleep. The sight of your peaceful slumber had started to make Azriel sleepy.

He leaned back in his chair and even though it was not the most comfortable position he had ever been in, he felt himself being dragging into the lull of sleep. Azriel has never had much luck with sleep, it was something he fought against every night waking up multiple times and struggling to stay asleep. Even though he was in a chair, your presence was comforting enough to allow him the luxury of a restful night of sleep. As the last bits of his consciousness were slipping away, Azriel focused on the warmth of your hand and thanked the Mother and swore that he would make it right if it was the only thing he would do for the rest of his days.

-

The Mother looked at Fate. He scoffed at her, "So dramatic this whole mating bond business is. If they're meant to be together then why isn't she just accepting him already?"

Fate had never been particularly patient. He believes that the time for everything was now because putting off your fate is an impossible feat.

The Mother believes in divine timing. Everything will occur when it is meant to. The Mother and Fate have been going back on forth on this issue for years.

She looks at him, amused by his eagerness, "Because it's time for him to show her that he can fight for her and himself. That's the important part, he's just realising now the error of his ways at least give him some time to prove it."

The Mother moves her chess piece into an advantageous move. Fate looks pensive.

She teases him, "Don't tell me you're actually getting attached to these ones."

He smiles, a wicked sight filled with smugness and a sureness that he did not always have. "They remind me of us in the beginning. I am beginning to become quite fond of them."

He's about to counter her attack when he pauses for a second. "But I like to think I didn't look that pathetic."

The Mother offers an immediate retort as he moves his piece. "You're right. You were more pathetic." She moves her piece.

"Hey now-"

Fate has always been cruel and unyielding, but the Mother had softened him over the years, a realisation he begins to acknowledge when he realises that he does want these two to end up together and curses himself for being a part of the reason it's been dragged out so long. He can almost hear his sister Karma laughing somewhere in the distance.

part ix

-

note: I honestly really struggled with this part. The conversation was something I really wanted to get right and while it's not a complete resolution, them actually beginning to get their emotions out is a good thing and progress in their relationship. I hope you guys are enjoying this story and as always thank you darlings and until next time!

note note: There were some troubles with the taglist that I hopefully fixed in this part and as always this will be edited eventually!! Hopefully...

My lovely taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl @ivy-34 @firefly-forest @k-homosapien @coeurdeveea @cherryjain17 @bckynatt @becstersworld @rcarbo1 @gojospearlycim @atluky @juliebluehufflepuff @willowpains @abadfantasybook @neverendingstay @hellohauntedturnstudent @highladyofhogwarts @littowl @iluvyewman-blog @lunaticpotatoe @justlivinginadaydream @julesiebean @shylahstarzz @olive-main @lreadsstuff @noonenuts @sourapplex @aquellaspequenascosas @anuttellaa @honethatty12 @moonlwghts @kittymeyers @beabogsims @sillyfreakfanparty

[nameistom]

Hey! In this post I will explain to you quickly my method to go to the void state. I don't know if anyone had already talked about this method before because I discovered it on my own and it worked a lot with me! This is almost like the distraction method!

If you always fall asleep trying to go to the void, then this can help you.

So the method is really simple:

1. Put some noise on loop: it can be a song, instrumental, frequency, whatever you want but there is a condition: try not to be too comfortable. If you are used to frequencies, I wouldn't recommend you to put frequencies on this method. Get out of your comfort zone and try another thing like instrumentals or a song, ill explain to you later. 

2. Close your eyes and now you are completely free to use your mind however you want! Affirmate, daydream, do whatever you want until you start falling asleep.

It's not done yet! – Pause for explanation.

This method consists in disturbing your night of sleep. How? If you put a rain noise during your sleep, you would easily fall asleep without noticing since rain sounds are something natural. (It also happens with a sound that you are used sleeping with) However, with this method, I want you to notice yourself falling asleep. If you put on a different sound, it will be completely different, you will actually notice yourself falling asleep just because it's a sound that keeps you awake. Your body will fight for sleep but your brain will fight for vigilance because of the sound. And during that fight, you will witness the transition between waking life and sleeping – it can last all night. 

One more thing, i wouldnt recommend you being too tired on this method because your body would win the fight easily. 

Resume of the method:

3. When you are finally getting sleepy, the sound will disappear and your brain will be like “yay finally silence” and that will wake you up. No, you wont really wake up but your mind will be working on that time. Let me break it down now: you put a loop sound. Your body falls asleep. Your mind notices you falling asleep and eventually you don't hear the song anymore. Congratulations, you are on the void state! 

Yeah this method is absurdly simple but it worked on me more than three times. I gave my best to explain it: basically instead of you trying to make your mind awake to go to the void state, you use external sound. I think its easier bc you dont have to make effort, and you will be sure that you are on the void state when you stop hearing the sound. 

Again, the sound doesn't have to be something annoying, only something different that will make you awake. And not being tired (in my opinion) is important. You know when you are not sleepy and decide to scroll on your phone until you fall asleep? Yeah you will have to sacrifice that moment for this method. You will do the method awake and force yourself to sleep because it will be easier to keep a percent of the brain still awake. 

Well, good luck with this method!

[batboyblog]

I'm seeing a worrying amount of idiots on tumblr dot com push that "Kamala hates trans women" and I am losing my mind at how they are pushing it, constantly, saying she is a proven transmisogynist, despite it being a complete lie and her actively working behind the scenes to help trans women in prison. Is there like, sources that could help debunk this shit because I'm at my wits end as these people scream and cry and vomit trying to get biden to drop out but then are like "eghhhh still don't wanna vote for a transphobic cop..." when she's NEITHER-

Isn't the internet wonderful? first rule NEVER examine your priors! ALWAYS! hang onto whatever the first hot take you had on a subject to THE DEATH!

"Kamala is Transphobic!" over here in reality

past that trans and LGBT rights groups have been quick to endorse her like

Advocates for Trans Equality

Human Rights Campaign

just today 1,100 LGBT celebrities, lawmakers and leaders endorsed her

“The intersection on the issue of reproductive care and trans care, and the ability of families to be able to have care for their children and their families, is really, again, an intersection around attacks that are on an identity,” -Vice-President Harris, 2023

any ways the root of the idea she's transphobic comes from one case in 2015. Two inmates in the California State Prison system sued to get GRS, which as inmates would have been covered by the Prison system. It's worth noting here, both women got what they wanted, one was paroled and got the surgery covered by California Medicare while the other serving a life sentence was ultimately covered by the prison system.

Two things are important to bear in mind here, 1. Part of the job of California Attorneys General is to defend the state when it is sued, thats the job, 2. It seems early on in the case Harris was not personally aware of it, about 1,000 lawyers work in the Cali AG's office and so the AG cannot be personally aware of every case, and check this quote from the Lambda Legal lawyer handling the case:

“The California AG’s office shifted its handling of these cases significantly after now-Sen. Harris took over,” Renn said. “Initially there was language in briefing for the state that glaringly misunderstood the medical necessity of transition-related medical care and was patently offensive. But then, there was a dramatic change, which seems to have gone along with important policy shifts.”

Link

in 2019 Harris talked about the case and working after it was settled to change the policy of the California State Prison system

"When that case came up, I had clients, and one of them was the California Department of Corrections. It was their policy. When I learned about what they were doing, behind the scenes, I got them to change the policy," Harris said.

"I commit to you that always in these systems there are going to be these things that these agencies do. And I will commit myself, as I always have, to dealing with it," Harris said.

Any ways Harris can consistently spoken out for and supported Trans people, banned the hateful Trans panic defense when she was AG, in the Senate supported the Equality Act, during her 2020 campaign for President she drew attention to the hate crimes against black trans women while holding herself accountable for the 2015 case. As Vice-President she drew fire voicing support for Dylan Mulvaney during the hellish Bud Light backlash. Her Husband Doug was tapped to host the first ever White House Trans Day of Remembrance

basically you're looking at a great ally who clearly supports trans rights, who was involved in a case, which involved two people who got the surgeries they were looking for paid for by the State of California, close to 10 years ago now, there's evidence that both she moved the case in a better direction when she took over it and also that she changed the polices of the state to before more gender affirming.

[twstfanblog]

Heyyyyy so uhhhhh…

What if the mc back in their world was a slave? Not servant like jamil, just, straight up slave where their opinion didn’t matter :( n they r female, afab, pronounce she/they? Hopefully nothing bad happened but people who get slaves r bad people so :((( overblot boys pls 🙏🥺

I feel like they would all threaten crowley to absolutely NOT look for a way to send mc home n to stop making her do his things cause that reminds her of back home in a very bad way :(

N then they comfort n hold the mc cause they r safe n wont have to be treated like shit anymore :(

They will punch anyone who treats em like shit

Which practically everyone in school did when they arrived at NRC, and they just thought ‘this is normal’. :(

Overblot Boys React to Slave Reader

Overblot Boys x Reader

Riddle

Lowkey saw you as an ideal student. Polite, respectful, and mindful of the rules. So he wouldn't notice anything past a few odd ticks that he himself wouldn't fully question since his own upbringing was shitty.

It takes him and Ace having an argument, Riddle brings up that Ace can learn a thing or two from you on being a respectful student. And Ace fires back on you being a SLAVE. Of course, his overbearing ass would love that. And Riddle has to really think about what kinda person that makes him that he didn't even notice.

He talks to you, wanting personal confirmation on what Ace had blurted out. Once he gets the confirmation, his attitude gets much softer. You don't get as harsh treatment for rule-breaking, but he's still stern about them.

End game, he makes up a secondary set of rules for you only. Rules like 'We say something if we are uncomfortable' or 'We are allowed to say No'. He just gets much softer but remains true on rules being important. He just also stresses that you should have your own personal rules now.

Leona

Clocked immediately you came from a background of servitude, though he wasn't aware how severe it was.

He didn't plan on getting invovled but his little bleeding heart took Ruggie under his wing for a reason. It was one part pity and mostly annoyance seeing you getting bullied by his dorm everyday.

You basically get 'Leona's Servant' boot camp with Ruggie suddenly. He teaches you how Leona likes his laundry tended to and what snack flavors he prefers. It's a smooth transition from slave to servant until Ruggie tells you it's free game to steal from Leona.

Leona never brings it up, but he knows your old home was not a good environment. He also knows he can't just fling you into a healthier dynamic with those around you, so he'll do it slowly and sneakily. Ruggie is the perfect one to bridge the gap for him to start spoiling you.

Azul

Knew something was off but had no real frame of reference. He would make little theories and try to figure out why you act the way you do. He only started thinking you had come from a background of servitude when you follow orders so quickly.

Honestly doesn't know how to feel because he did do slavery in tricking the contracted students into working at the lounge against their will. He's not entirely sure how to save face with you after he's come across as a cruel and unfair slaver. Lowkey uses his overblot aftermath as an excuse for a fresh start with you.

He starts treating you kinder, making sure to address you properly and showing that he respects you. People from his dorm follow his lead, at least. The Tweels are part-time bodyguards, making your old bullies more hesitant to start anything because an eel might slip out of a crack or something.

Azul is a sneaky one too, slowly helping you raise your standard of how you should be treated by others. If you get him blabbing long enough, he'll slip into just stating how precious you are to him.

Jamil

I'm sorry, even with the English sanitation, Jamil’s situation can only come across as slavery to me. He's a very well cared for slave because Kalim adores him, but a slave none the less.

It's a little jarring to him to see someone who really could understand. But he's so used to keeping himself guarded he never reached out in a friendly sense. Treating you more like a new coworker; helpful but distant. It wasn't until you accidently broke something in Scarabia and nearly had a panic attack when Kalim looked at you does he realize how severe punishment was back in your world.

Gets much softer to you. It's sad because he does love and care about you, but he would not allow you to be with him long term. You've managed to come to a new world where your old masters can't reach you, you're free. Don't waste it following him back into a life of servitude.

Jamil would understand you the best so he'd be the one to really push and guide you to trying new experiences with your freedom. Wants you to be selfish and use your friends' kindness to make your life better. If he never gets his dream of being able to travel the world he wants you to be able to.

(Should the miracle happen and he and Kalim have the conversation finally, Jamil would go globe trotting with you. He legit has thoughts of just not going back and disappearing with you.)

Vil

I don't think he'd mean anything malicious by it. But he would end up treating you like a purse dog for a while.

Vil has a strong and cemented personality and sense of worth. Dealing with someone as passive as an abused slave, he would easily bulldoze over them and not really notice. Because he'd basically have you on the 'Betterment Plan' he has Epel.

He saw the potential and just kept going because you never said stop. Lots of beauty routines, he picks outfits for you for outings, basically has you as his shadow before either Rook or Epel bring up how he's running you ragged.

Vil never dealt with someone who's come from the situation you did. The very idea that 'No' wasn't a boundary you were ever allowed horrified him for a bit. But like the queen he is, he doesn't try to defend his misstep and goes right into correcting his behavior. The introduction of choices was the best start, but you slowly start saying no to events and choices and Vil couldn't be more delighted.

Idia

Lowkey, I'm not sure if he'd notice in any capacity until you told him point-blank. Idia is the one of the boys who sticks mostly to himself and he'd avoid you if he saw you constantly being hounded by other students.

But, if you managed to get close enough to him, he'd question why you always freeze up when your bullies call you? Why running isn't an option you take? And then you'd tell him about where you came from and how running never ended well for you or the other slaves...

He's not one I think would actively try to curb your behaviors but it would effect his own. Now when he sees you being bullied there's a high chance he'll use what power he has a housewarden to get them to leave. When he's sneaking around, he'll catch your eye and give the mental offer to come hide out in his room with him. He becomes a legit safe space for you to just breath since no one but Ortho really enters his room.

He's had to stop you multiple times from cleaning his room. Yes, it's a mess. No, you don't have to thank him by cleaning. Yes, he's aware you can also keep his stuff organized for him while you clean. You don't have to clean, you aren't his maid. (He is terrified he will ruin your friendship the second you find anything embarrassing under his piles of junk. Like a body pillow, or a 18+ comic, or a stray love note he wrote you-)

Malleus

Adorable you think the bonds of slavery from an unknown world matter to him. Malleus is...a prince, a crown prince at that. I don't think he has 'slaves' but with servants of royalty, I'm never really sure. But anyhow, this boy hasn't been told no enough in his life and it shows.

So when you try to back away from the friendship a bit under the fact of you being a slave and not...worthy of his princely company. He just decides you aren't a slave anymore. Just wills and speaks it into existence. There, it's fixed. You can continue being his beloved child of man, now come. He has a new gargoyle he wants to show you.

Fae to me have favorites, and they love to keep an eye on them. So god help some poor schmuck who tries to bully you into doing their work after Malleus has decided you don't do that anymore... You start saying No and leaving the situation with much more effectiveness because the other choice is Malleus making some poor student drop out for fear of their life.

Malleus canonically ignores the autonomy of others for his own gain. So it would be a really weird balance of him simply stating that you are your own being capable of choice and that your old-world status as a slave doesn't matter here. But with that new free status, you are also his best friend, who will come on night walks with him, talk with him, and make friendship bracelets.

[blythesarchives]

Roasted Chestnuts. | B.B

summary: Bucky takes to sleeping in the living room, you comfort him with hot cocoa.

warnings: Angst & Fluff | PTSD symptoms | Nightmares | Post accidental injuries

a/n: I hope this technically qualifies, even though it's sort of angsty. But there is fluff! I decided to use a few themes from the list provided and melded them together. Unedited, mistakes to be fixed later lol. ;; wc: 3.3k

Cold sweat and cold weather don't exactly mix.

Neither did the cold, wooden floor of the living room but...he insisted on it ever since he woke up choking you to near unconsciousness, his hands trembling with horror when he realized what he had done. The hardwood became his self-imposed punishment, refusing the comfort of proper bedding.

He couldn't forgive himself for that, his instability taunted him for weeks after that, having to see the bruise around your throat cause by his hand. Every morning he would catch glimpses of the purple-blue marks adorning your precious neck, each glance a reminder of how close he had come to destroying everything he held dear. The guilt ate away at him, manifesting in sleepless nights and countless apologies that could never seem to erase that moment from his memory.

He deserved it; the chill in the air making every bead of perspiration feel like tiny needles against his skin.

Especially his scars.

His shoulder hurt bad during the winter, which wasn't a huge surprise, but he would've appreciated if his body formed a bit of resistance to the cold by now.

Between endless cryofreezing, Siberian training, the prolonged exposure to freezing should have given him some sort of enhanced ability to withstand the cold but...cruelly, almost laughably, he was more vulnerable to the bite of chill now.

It pissed him off, quite frankly.

But right now, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on his annoyance.

Instead, his thoughts drifted to you as he sat there on the cold floor, his body tucked carefully against the chair that stood positioned by the stark wall. He had turned the chair into an improvised shelter of sorts, his upper body deliberately laid close beside it in a way that almost seemed to mimic having another body near him for comfort. The transition had been gradual over the course of several months, he had slowly grown accustomed to sleeping in a proper bed, and more importantly, he had grown used to having you there beside him.

Your warm, protective arms would wrap around his frame each night, and he had found himself free of any hesitation or shame as he tucked himself against your chest, letting the steady rhythm of your heartbeat become his personal lullaby, lulling him into peaceful sleep. Better than any goddamn noise machine he could dream of.

But that peace had been shattered after one particularly visceral nightmare that had resulted in him nearly choking the life from you in his sleep-addled state. He found himself unable to bear the thought of sharing a bed with you again, too terrified of what his unconscious mind might make him do.

He thought he was getting better, he was supposed to be better. The words didn't work anymore...therapy was mediocre at best but it was supposed to help him. Yet, after all of that, he still hurt you.

He's still plagued.

Frustrated with himself and the situation, he kicks the chair slightly, causing it to skid a few inches across the worn wooden floor with a harsh scraping sound. Bucky takes a deep breath, his flesh hand instinctively gripping his dog tags - those small pieces of metal that remind him of who he once was - one his own, one Steve’s.

Damnit, Steve. Why didn’t he stay?

The one man who always had his loyalty, his best friend, he felt so abandoned.

Now he had to dump his shit on you. You didn’t deserve this.

Dealing with what remained of Bucky. Dealing with his problems.

Burdening you with his issues.

All alone.

His vibranium hand nervously bundled the thin, threadbare blanket he used to sleep under. The television continued to drone on in the background, playing yet another cheesy Christmas movie that felt hollow and distant. He didn’t like these ones.

He liked the older ones.

They were simpler, easier to grasp. The fantasy of talking snowmen and flying reindeer seemed far better to lose himself in than these modern romantic tales of a cheerful woman who sings perfect carols and inevitably falls for a handsome shop owner...predictable stories that seemed to play on an endless loop.

The warm glow from the Christmas tree cast a gentle, inviting light across the sparse living room, making the empty space feel more like home. The apartment was still largely unfurnished, your current financial situation wasn’t great to say the least. Bucky's couldn’t get a job with his ‘criminal’ background, nor would anyone hire the Winter Soldier, regardless of how good he worked and how well he was with his hands. That left you as the sole provider. The weight of being the only one working pressed heavily on your shoulders, though you never complained.

You were happy to do it, if it meant Bucky could spend time relaxing and not worrying about anything.

Still, he didn’t like it.

The thought of his girl working for the both of you gave him a sour taste in his mouth, his gut tightened as he saw it as just another burden for you. A gentleman deep down, you having to work to support the two of you didn’t do anything but give him even more mental crisis.

Even when you were on the run in Romania, he found odd jobs. He brought food home. He took care of the two of you. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t think you shouldn’t be working because you were a woman, it’s just…he felt horrible. You did so much for him, and all he could do was sit at home and wait for you to come off your shifts. He felt worthless.

And despite the tight budget, you'd worked extra hours so you could afford a Christmas tree for the apartment. While Bucky had initially been indifferent to the idea of holiday decorations, his memories of past Christmases long since faded into a blur. Watching your face light up as you carefully placed each ornament made every penny worth it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle creak of floorboards, and he turned to find you peering around the corner of the short hallway that led to your bedroom. "Buck Buck...what're you doin' up?" you murmured, voice thick with sleep. Your hair was charmingly disheveled, and his old henley hung loosely on your frame, the hem nearly reaching your knees. Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, blinked slowly, "I heard somethin' out here, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, doll I'm...I'm fine." He exhaled slowly, not exactly confident in his words, shoulders slumping forward as the weight of sleepless nights pressed down on him. His hand still held the dog tags, fiddling with them restlessly as his thumb pad gently traced the engraved names and numbers, a nervous habit he'd developed.

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself that?" You asked softly, sitting down beside him on the cold floor, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give him space. "Why don't you come back to bed with me? It's cold out here and that small blanket is not enough... I can see you shivering."

"No." He spat firmly, his jaw clenching with tension, "We've been over this. I'm not going to risk hurting you again. I can't...I won't let that happen."

"It was an accident-" you tried to reason, reaching out instinctively.

"NO!" Bucky snapped suddenly, his volume and tone loud enough to echo off the walls, making you flinch as it startled the sleep out of you. The fear in his own eyes matched yours for a split second.

It was silent for a few beats until finally he found the courage to break it with trembling words.

"I can't...I won't hurt you again. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face - the fear in your eyes when I came back to myself. You can downplay it all you want. The doctors told me how close I came to crushing your trachea. How am I supposed to carry on knowing what I almost did? You still have that dark bruise around your throat, oh...god..." His voice cracked and faded, heavy with anguish. The traumatic memory had carved itself deep into his psyche.

The faceless HYDRA torturers had been replaced in his nightmares, instead, visions of his own hands wrapped around your throat, watching helplessly as the life slowly drained from your eyes.

That was more horrifying than any of HYDRA's torture.

He would willingly submit himself to every cruel experiment, every brutal conditioning session, every moment of agony they had ever put him through - if it meant he could erase that one terrible moment when he had almost become your killer.

"Bucky," you interrupted his thoughts, your hand reaching out hesitantly in the dim light of the room, hovering just inches from his tensed shoulder but not yet making contact. You turned your palm slowly upward toward the ceiling, silently willing him to either take your hand or at least allow you the comfort of touching him. "I promise you, I am fine. Yes, it might've been a bit scary in the moment when it happened, and I understand why you're worried...but I know you'd never hurt me on purpose, not in a million years. It was an accident, nothing more than that."

He shifted uncomfortably under your unwavering gaze, his fingers clutching the deep green blanket even tighter to his chest, drawing it close like armor against both the cold and his own guilt. You could see the slight tremor in his frame, whether from the chilly air or his inner turmoil, you weren't sure. You knew he must be freezing out here in the living room, but if there was one thing you'd learned about Bucky, it was that he could be impossibly stubborn.

No matter how much you yearned to lead him back to the warmth of your shared bedroom, you knew he wouldn't budge an inch, wouldn't dare return to your bed, not while the belief that he might unconsciously harm you still gripped his conscience.

Instead of trying the back and forth of arguing, you decided to do something else. Rising from your spot, you made your way back to the bedroom, your bare feet making soft padding sounds against the aged wooden floorboards that creaked ever so slightly with each step. When Bucky heard you walk away, he assumed you had given up and gone back to bed for the night, so he slowly lowered himself down onto his makeshift sleeping spot, trying to find a comfortable position to attempt sleep.

But your absence was only temporary. Within moments, you had returned.

Your arms were laden with an assortment of blankets and a plush pillow, carried from your bedroom.

"No, doll..." he sat up immediately, preparing to launch into reasons why you shouldn't subject yourself to sleeping on the floor, even if it might be hypocritical. But you possessed every bit as much stubbornness as he did, and you had already made up your mind that he wouldn't have to face this night alone.

"Hush. I'm staying with you, and if that means camping out in the living room, then that's exactly what I'm going to do." You insisted firmly but gently, carefully arranging the blankets and pillow beside his spot. "And if sleep doesn't come easily tonight, then we can always put on a movie to pass the time. But I don't want you to be on your own, you've been torturing yourself for weeks now..."

Bucky looked down at his lap, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his features. "You are such a brat..." He finally replied, his lips pulling into a small, almost reluctant smile. The warmth in his chest grew steadily as he watched you, touched by how adamantly you insisted on sleeping beside him, even if it meant spending the night on the cold floor.

"That's me," you replied with a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Now...how about some hot chocolate? If we aren’t gonna sleep, then we might as well have a little treat. Plus, it'll warm you up." You offered, already making your way to the kitchen with determined steps, your mind set on the comforting beverage. "Marshmallows or whipped cream?" You called over your shoulder, your voice carrying a hint of amusement as you deliberately didn't give him any opportunity to decline the offer.

He shook his head slowly, running his hand over his face as an affectionate smile spread across his features, unable to hide how endeared he was by your persistence. "Marshmallows...please," he responded softly.

"And that chestnut flavoring?" You added thoughtfully, observing him still comfortably tucked away on the floor, his form relaxed against the wall. Bucky gave a shy nod, a gentle expression crossing his features, and you couldn't help but smile warmly in return. "We should roast some, I hear people do that this time of year. But I'm not sure why exactly? I haven't had the chance to try them prepared that way before."

You carefully made your way back to where he sat, extending the steaming mug of hot chocolate towards him. The ceramic vessel was filled nearly to the brim, with a generous mountain of tiny marshmallows creating a fluffy white peak on top.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders slightly, reaching up to pluck a few of the dry marshmallows from the pile, popping them into his mouth one by one. "You can eat them plain as a snack," he offered simply, savoring the sweet dissolving treats.

"Yeah, but that seems a bit too plain for chestnuts. How about…a pie? God, I love pecan pie, why not chestnut pie? Or I hear they go good with apples."

"Pie would be really good...you know how much I love your baking," Bucky smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up as he fondly recalled all the delicious sweet treats you had lovingly prepared throughout the seasons. Apple pie was one of Bucky's all time favorite desserts, and he always lit up when you made it for him. You aren’t a professional baker by any means, but the homemade pastries and treats that came from your kitchen had become one of his most treasured simple pleasures in the world.

You sat nestled against him, your shoulders touching as you both sipped hot chocolate and talked about everything and nothing. The conversation drifted from the gentle snowfall outside to potential weekend activities, from dessert recipes you wanted to try together to movies you both wanted to watch.

Bucky had changed visibly since you crept out to see him, his tense shoulders had gradually loosened, the worried lines around his eyes had softened, and genuine smiles now came more frequently. You both occasionally made playful commentary about the predictable romantic comedy playing on screen, sharing knowing looks as the plot became increasingly formulaic and harder to tolerate.

"Can't we watch something else?" Bucky asked, turning to meet your gaze with a slight grimace, "I'm getting tired of these kinds of movies...at this point, I could practically recite exactly what's going to happen next, line by line."

“What do you mean?” You laughed a little, smiling at him as he rolled his eyes in return.

“Let’s see…it’s either Noel, Carol, or some other Christmas themed name for the main girl, and she always moves back to a hometown or is divorced or lonely or just…wandering through life feeling like something’s missing. Meets a handsome guy, a handy man, a baker, someone she knew from her childhood, and they eventually fall in love after this big Christmas event happens.” Bucky muttered, “And there's always singing! That’s been the plot for the last three movies, I swear.”

"Sure," you responded with another laugh, he hit the nail on the head. You reached forward for the remote and scrolled through channels until you stumbled on one specifically for classic holiday films. "Oh my god, this one! It's from, like...1960." You watched, somewhat amused, as the distinctively vintage stop-motion animation showed Rudolph trudging through the snow, the character's movements charmingly stilted by today's standards. Your finger hovered over the remote button, ready to continue searching.

"No, no...don't change it," he interjected softly, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice, "I'd like to watch this one..."

"Really? Alright," you set the remote down and got comfy. These classic films held a special place in your heart, each frame bringing back cherished memories of curling up on the couch as a child, lost in the magic of storytelling and still believing in Santa Claus. "This used to be one of my favorites," you murmured softly, snuggling closer against him. Bucky lifted his right arm, eager to feel your heat against his bare chest. He hadn't experienced watching these movies the same as you had, his past denying him even these small comforts.

It wasn't like HYDRA allowed him a tv.

Watching it now, even without the foundation of the right nostalgia, he was drawn into the film's spell. There was something touching about its simplicity, the way it managed to weave enchantment through every scene despite its less sophisticated approach. Even with its fantastical storyline, it carried an authentic magic that resonated deep within him, something pure and genuine he could instinctively recognize. Much better than the movies he had seen all day.

The first movie seemed to float by in a comfortable haze, and before you knew it, another began to play. These old ones didn’t have a very long runtime, but you forgot just how quick they fly by. The Charlie Brown Christmas movie filled the screen with its familiar charm. The gentle orchestration of the score and soothing tone of the character’s voices set a comfortable mood in the room.

While the movie played, you felt a slight shift in weight beside you. You glanced over and noticed Bucky's empty mug resting forgotten in his lap, old white foam from melted marshmallows sticking to the rim, his features softened as his eyelids had finally drooped closed. His weight leaning more against yours, and you carefully adjusted yourself.

"Oh, Bucky..." you whispered tenderly to yourself, watching as the exhausted man finally succumbed to sleep, the warm hot chocolate having done its job exactly as you'd hoped it would. Gently, you removed the empty mug from where it rested precariously on his lap and eased him down into a more comfortable position, making sure his head was properly supported by the plush pillow beneath it. You then took your time meticulously arranging the thick blankets over his body, paying particular attention to his metal arm, ensuring it was completely covered.

The winter months were especially difficult for him, the cold made the connection points of his prosthetic ache terribly, so you made sure that every inch of the metal limb was thoroughly insulated against the chill.

Damn, you should really invest in a heated blanket…they were just so expensive.

You were determined to get one for him though.

After adjusting the television volume just a little to create a soft, ambient background noise, you settled yourself beside his sleeping form. You snuggled in close, your hand moving in slow, soothing strokes up and down the broad expanse of his back.

Even in the depths of sleep, he instinctively sought out your warmth, shifting closer until his face was buried against your chest, his arm wrapping around you in a secure embrace. Though the weight and coolness of the metal arm pressed against you was initially a bit uncomfortable since the henley rode up a bit, but you quickly adjusted. Vibranium was nice, once it warmed it would stay that way for a long time.

But the same vise versa, meaning you really should get a heated blanket soon.

For now, this would do. You'd be the heat he needed, even if it meant staying with him on the floor.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

@buck-star 's Fluffy Winter Event.