(n.) | the space that stretches between sleeping and waking
they/them/their | xe/xem/xyr
¤
“I don’t much care for alienation and exclusion behaviour in the human species, you are, after all, of the same kin, why should minute differences, or quite obvious differences between you cause the ostracization of the uncommon few?” their head tilted to the side in question as they regarded the human sitting opposite. with a smooth whirr and a few clicks their previous almost human like appearance shifted into their synthetic base, the small lights from circuits working in processing blinking and the effortless click-click-click of the tiny metal cogs driving the finest motor functions bared for all to see, there were cords and wires branching off just like the nervous and vascular system of any biologic creation.
Prot lost their train of thought as they observed the crystal clear shape of UU mass get transported from the storage unit in the android’s chest into the energy converter. They remembered the extensive lessons they had in anatomy and how the biologic body worked and supported itself with the coordinated function of multiple organs, each with their own specific function and how they were connected with each other through nervous networks and by substance exchange. Like the biologic body the synthetic one needed multiple devices with specific functions in order to operate smoothly, they all needed information to and from each other, they were all dependant on the other, like how if one organ would cease to function, both the biologic and the synthetic body would slowly wither away and ultimately die unless it was replaced.
They were all just machines.
“I didn’t know the philosophy of human social interaction was something an android was interested in, you are not like us, ” Prot crossed their arms and avoided visual contact, choosing instead to inspect their arm.
“I may not be made of the same base components as you, however I am still my own person, my thoughts and my ideals, my ethics and my morals, my integrity sense of self are unique only to me and no one else. I am a sentient being of another species than your own and according to multiple of your religious beliefs we’re both made in the image of our creator. Though I have the fortune, or maybe I should say misfortune, of being able to interact with mine.”
Prot felt the stain of guilt heat their cheeks, it was disconcerting to realize they’d done wrong, they were supposed to know better, they did know better, but somehow, despite everything that had happened, they were still a Child in many ways.
“I’m sorry, I invalidated your person hood, which was wrong of me, I can’t… I’m… I’m sorry,” Prot bowed their head deep in apology and remorse, “I hope we can continue our sessions, though I understand if you wouldn’t want to.”
The android studied the human for what felt like a very drawn out moment for Prot before standing up, their human-like skin once more in place.
“Tomorrow at 1400, outside the main building,” they turned towards the exit, walking out with a quick and efficient pace
i’m a bit meh on this, any thoughts?
The Beginning; some sort of start (????)
Ma had sat Prot down one evening a few weeks before and told them about the Initiation, how they wouldn’t be able to keep any personal belongings the first years they spent at the Academy. They would all go through a separation process and it would be painful and saddening but with time, they’d regain their lost possessions, and Parent and Child could would meet again as equals. Prot had slowly crept closer during Ma’s story about her own Initiation, how she’d missed her Ma an awful lot and the first time she’d gotten to meet him after the separation.
“The smell of his hair was like that awful day, it smelled of rain and moist forests, and a hint of mint. I remember I could look him in the eyes without having to strain my neck too much, and he laughed as he tried to swing me around like I was a Child still, but I guess I was a bit too large for swing-arounds, ” she’d giggled a bit after that, hugging Prot close and kissing their forehead. “You will always be my dearest Prot, even when we’re separated.”
They fell asleep on the couch like that, Parent and Child curled up together in the comfort of their affection for one another, warm bodies breathing slowly in tandem as if time itself had slowed down to give them this moment together.
;~;
wow i wrote this ;~;
As some of you know I watched The Host yesterday, I figured since it’s a fairly new movie I’ll let you all know my thoughts and opinions about it since I think quite a few people wonder if it’s worth watching.
I’d like to inform you that I have not read the book, so I will only review the film as a stand alone, no comparing with the book at all. (Which might be boring for people who’ve read the book and would like a deeper analysis, terribly sorry you guys but I’m not a big fan of Stephanie Meyer’s writing and since the Twilight series was incredibly problematic I didn’t feel like reading yet another book with those themes.)
Let’s start this review with some trigger and content warnings shall we? :)
The Host starts off with a brief explanation of how the world is now perfect and people are basically living in an utopia, though it’s not by their own doing, an alien race has invaded Earth and taken over the bodies of humans, using their bodies to create a world where there is no injustice, no hunger, no wars etc. Though not all humans have been taken over so these aliens look for any “survivors” of their invasion so they can completely take over the whole human race.
The first memory Prot revisited after they’d left the Earth’s atmosphere was the very first day they met Charlotte. The day was cloudy and there was a hint of rain in the air, the weather had been dry for months and all around them people threw expectant glances towards the sky, heaving longing sighs like if dry flowers had breath and longing to expel Prot’s inside was not being very nice, their tummy made sharp twists and turns with every step they took, clasping Ma’s hand tighter with every step. Ma’s hand was warm and sweaty, squeasing back every now and then in reassurance, and the soft brush of Ma’s coat brushed against their arm as they moved together, marching in step towards the large building appearing in front of them like a gleaming gem against the grey sky. It appeared delicate with all it’s glass windows, like a gust of wind could topple it over, and Prot wondered how it could even possibly still be standing after hundreds of years in this unfriendly climate.
I dunno if this’ll end up as something I just want to share and maybe get some nudging go-a-heads?
I’m sorry to say that I’m clinging to the hope that you are much better than I am. I hope you’ve gotten the help you need to feel better, I hope you’ve made friends, I hope you’ve made peace with yourself and been able to move on, live your life and not be emotionally crippled by our past.
I hope you’re studying what you want and not what you think you need.
I hope you have dreams and visions and moments of weakness when you eat a whole tub of ice cream because you felt like it.
I hope you take walks where there are lots of trees, to see how their branches reach for the sky and how every leaf fight for a minute hint of the sun.
I hope you go to the beach, not when it’s warm and crowded with sunburnt bodies, but when it’s cold and the most wild, to really feel the spirit of the ocean, see the shades of green and blue and grey, and feel the salty water mingle with your tears.
I hope you have a pet, someone who unconditionally loves you and appreciates you if only because you feed them every day and make sure their litter box is clean or take them out for walks.
I hope you still make your own bread, because the warm joy of eating warm bread you’ve made with your own hands never gets old.
I hope you feel happy once every day, because life is too short not to.
I hope you smile, because your smile is beautiful.
love / me
After what seemed like years of running and hiding, exhaustion settling in his bones as an never ending ache and soreness, Dean started to feel the tingling sensation one gets when you’re being observed. No matter how hard he tried he never got even as much as a glimpse of whatever new and horrifying thing chasing them.
Castiel was constantly on edge and snappish, the frustration of running and running and running finally taking its toll on the angel, or whatever he was right now. Dean snorted at the thought, to which Cas sent him a glare over the shoulder. Oh, right, they were setting up a trap, how could he forget? The absurdity of the situation he never really got out of, who knows how long they’d been tucked away in the darkest corner of the known universe, was staring to get to him.
The shit-hole God made.Dean had to press his hand against his mouth in order to not let the sobbing laugh of bordering hysteria out and scare their game, chupacabras were, surprisingly enough, edible despite their foul appearance.
A snap of a dry twig instantly pulled his mind to alertness and he slowly moved around, observing the surroundings of his and Cas’ temporary hide-out.
The forest was dim and seemingly empty to the naked eye, a low mist rising from the ground made it hard to see in the distance.
A flicker of something dark made Dean pause and strain his eyes to see better, it had almost looked something like a sweater. He frowned a bit and was about to turn and tell Cas about it when he saw the flicker again, not too far away behind the trunk of a tree, and it wasn’t the only thing he saw.
He hadn’t seen that particular set of shoulders since before he and Cas ended up in this pit of despair, and the few locks of hair he could see gently moving in the wind was more familiar than hos own.
The blood ran cold in his body, he could feel every lick of warmth leave him in an instance as the ice settled in his stomach and his fingers started to tremble.
“Cas.. Come on Cas, let’s go, we have to leave,” Dean whispered harshly, not taking his eyes off the shape behind the tree.
“I see no reason why we should leave Dean, we just set up the trap and-“
“Forget about the trap, we have to go now,” Dean urged as he reached behind him and managed to grab a hold of Cas’ coat.
“You see that? Behind the tree?” he asked the now turned around and increasingly displeased Castiel.
Castiel did look up however and went rigid.
“Is that..?”
“No, this shit stain of a place may have scrambled my brains a bit, but I do know one thing. That? Ain’t Sam.”
With one last shared look of agreement, they ran.
Tasting the ball of goo the River Spirit had gifted her was a mistake, she could feel her spirit and her body fusing together like a soldering iron. She took a breath, one of the few she’s needed after signing the contract of Yubaba, almost like Before.
She exhales deeply and eat her full which seems like for the first time in ages.
Her sleep is deep and restful, her body warm again after such a long time being cold, feeling too light and too insubstantial.
She doesn’t even wake up when all the other yuna are awoken with haste to serve the wealthy guest.
Though when she wakes it’s like a veil has lifted from her eyes, she feels heavy still, and warm. She’s hungry but ignores it.
She want’s to see Haku.
Chihiro looks at the water tags, confusion rising within her. She can feel the stirrings of want, but she’s never been a very selfish being. She only needed one, this is too much.
Refusing the offer was surprisingly easy, the moment her “no thank you” was uttered the knot of apprehension in her stomach eased and her heart went light again.
She smiles at the stranger and turn to answer the call of Yubaba.
She has no need of wants and desires of her own anymore, she serves the bathhouse and the bathhouse needs is her needs. She gladly serves the river spirit, despite not knowing xyr true nature, the odour revolting enough to rot food, because denying a costumer is denying your life, and deep down Chihiro knows she exists.
She fights, in the only way she can.
Chihiro doesn’t feel hunger as she used to, it’s only after sinking her teeth into the onigiri she feels the rush of need, of how her body is still her body, and she chokes on her emotions, suddenly overwhelming her again. She’s scared, worried and confused. As the feeling of being full slowly dissipates, quicker than what she could remember from Before. She’s unaware of how her past slowly is lost, like fog on a hot summer morning.
AND CHIHIRO IS FEELING COLD, SO UNUSED TO NOT HAVING THE WARMTH OF BEING HUMAN RUNNING THROUGH HER BODY. SHE STINKS SHE CAN SMELL THAT NOW THOUGH THE CLOTHES AND THE NIGHT IN THE NEW BEDDINGS HELPED A LOT. BUT SHE’S SO COLD.
Missing scene: Daphne finds a naked Angel with no memories and wonders what to do.
I just think about what if Dean had been Deanna, and been raised just like Dean, because John couldn’t care about normal childhood things because he’s an obsessive bastard and didn’t do well with two boys, so why should Dean being a girl be any difference?
And I never had my Mum talk to me about fucking periods, it’s not that big of a deal, you find out through your peers, and older student who gloat about their ~superior~ knowledge. All my Mum did was show me where the tampons were and let her know if I wanted something else.
Now what if Deanna reacted badly when she actually was treated like a girl. What if she identified as male? Now that would be more interesting for me, because that would make John’s treatment of him seem closer to normal than any other treatment he got from schools. Maybe even from Sam, since maybe he hadn’t really put what he felt into words, only knew what felt right, but having this inability to talk about it, because what the hell do you say?
And it could be one reason why he never left John to go with Sam to college, because at all the other schools they were at, he got labelled as something he wasn’t and it was only his father, no matter how messed up he was, who treated him like he wanted to be treated. (even if it was unconsciously and never intended) College is a scary thing, it’s new and unknown and they’ll probably just label him again for sure. It’s better to stay where it’s safe, where your sex doesn’t matter, only how fast you can reload your gun, how quick you are on your feet, and how much you can remember from that exorcism you read seconds before shit went straight to the fan.
And he would put Mary on a pedestal, because Mom’s understand even if you don’t, but it’s all just ideals and wants and wishes because Mary is dead and he’ll never know how she’d react. Never know if she’d be okay with who he wanted to be.
And think about it, he’d pretty much had to live with himself as he is, no matter how dysphoric he’d feel, depending on to what degree he’d want to be a man, my personal favourite would be for him to identify as a man, but being sort of okay with his body, mainly because he doesn’t think of his body that much. There’s really no time for wondering if his female bits go well with his male parts, since there are ghosts to hunt and his body needs to be in shape anyway, and when he thinks about it he doesn’t really look very feminine after all. He’s just a body. But there would still be this nagging thing where it just felt wrong, and he’d go and hustle up some cash because damnit, being in a woman body doesn’t make him any less than what he is.
But one time he cut his hair really short, a buzz-cut really, when he knew John would be away for a long time, and Sammy was off on his own in Cali, and he’d found a binder like thing for really cheap, and wearing his own clothes suddenly looked more right.
And meeting Cassie would be his first relationship as himself, and Cassie was okay with that, she accepted him for who he was, but not for what he did.
/chokes on feelings
