#[HOO this got longer than I was expecting]

[sixpillarsofgenesis]

A (Non-Canon) Exhaustive Reference on Ergo for Lies of P

Ergo comes in many categories; due to Ergo being in the stages of infancy for industrial development, below is an extensive list of Ergo, graded from lowest to highest with additional notes for further review, as well as Stargazers, Stargazers +, and some items as used by Stalkers, Alchemists, and the Workshop Union.

Stargazers and Stargazers+

Before the fall of Krat to the Petrification Disease and the later Puppet Frenzy, Stargazers were used by Stalkers to communicate to their respective bases on mission updates, intelligence, and transmit missives across Krat without others hearing. However, since the Alchemists invented the Stargazers, they often can eavesdrop on these private missives, something they did much more frequently after Simon Manus took over to better plan their spread of the Petrification Disease.

When Sophia was captured, she found her soul splintered across each of the Stargazers, resulting in her being able to send and receive messages from P during his journey and aiding him by turning back time to the last Stargazer he left a bit of his own Ergo at.

In the new timeline created by the Blue Butterfly Record, Carlo modifies the Stargazers into a Stargazer+ model. Eavesdropping was - unknowingly - scrambled by this action, leaving the Alchemists forced to do more groundwork regarding their own spy activities, which is quite frustrating for Simon Manus and his group.

Types of Ergo:

Ergo comes in nine grades of quality, not including subclasses or unique materials that were not discovered until later, starting with Kroud/Raw Ergo and ending with Complete Form Ergo.

Raw and Kroud: Raw and Kroud-grade Ergo is the lowest grade of Ergo, and this material is functionally useless for any power sources. Raw Kroud, however, is excellent in use for filtration systems for Ergo and Ergo particles. Once raw Kroud is removed from the main source, it ceases to grow, from which it can then be turned into thin sheets for water to pass through, or a rough substrate that can provide a higher grade Filtered Ergo. Dim Ergo Chunks, Crystals, and Fragments often come from this grade of Ergo.

Luminous Ergo: Luminous Ergo is material that has been successfully mined. While not extremely bright or energetic in colour, this is often the bulk of Ergo used in puppets and by Alchemists for their Liquid Ergo, unaware (or perhaps uncaring) that this is a material of very low quality. Radiant Ergo fragments come from this grade of Ergo.

Filtered Ergo: Filtered Ergo is any Ergo that is processed through Kroud Substrate or purified in saltwater that has an electric current running through it. Kroud Filtered is the easiest of the two methods; in the timeline that comes from Blue Butterfly Record, this is the cheap and quick option used to filter Krat's water supply and the Barren Swamp. This collects large deposits and provides an easily accessible quantity of Filtered Ergo for immediate use, as Ergo crystalises quickly, just like Kroud. Salt and Current Filtered Ergo is an intense process - this is the bare minimum used to build P and Carlo in the Real Boy timeline. Resplendent Ergo Chunks, Crystals and Fragments come from this grade.

Liquid Ergo/Fable Catalyst: Traditional and pure Liquid Ergo is a liquified version of Ergo collected by a Stargazer and produced over time - however, this material can take weeks to accumulate, so Alchemists often find shortcuts to make Liquid Ergo using the lowest grade possible.

Luminous Liquid Ergo is made by Alchemists and was previously sold to Stalkers at a severe markup. When the Filtered Liquid Ergo was provided by a competitor, the Alchemists were forced to slash their prices and lost out on some funding. As a Fable Catalyst, this material functions at 50% efficiency as compared to the highest grade Catalyst. Filtered Liquid Ergo is made of the previous Filtered Ergo, and functions at higher efficiency - closer to 70-75% efficiency as compared to the highest quality and grade Fable Catalyst. There is no difference between Natural Liquid Ergo and Fable Catalyst - both are processed by Stargazers, and the creation of a single vial of Fable Catalyst - 29.5 millilitres or one fluid ounce - can take a single Stargazer up to a month to obtain. As the highest grade, this operates at 100% efficiency and is highly sought after by Stalkers with the money to spend or their clients looking to tempt a new Stalker for their needs.

Refined Ergo/Quartz: Refined Ergo is a material best used for forging weaponry, as this type of Ergo begins to impart Fable Arts upon the weapons they are made for. While Refined Ergo is very potent, it is an Ergo that has not reached the full potential of true Rare Grade Ergo, and as such can only truly impart its power to either the Blade or Handle of a weapon. Quartz is a unique material used in the Real Boy timeline to upgrade the P-Organ. Unlike most Ergo at the Refined Stage, this Ergo is purely unaffiliated. It is Ergo that is generated from ambient lifeforce, and retains a lack of structure unless imparted with Silver Ergo. Functionally useless on its own, Quartz retains multiple unique properties which make it very interesting to those looking for a flexible material with which to make synthetic fabrics... or a certain puppet's skin. Vivid Ergo can sometimes come of this.

Rare Ergo: A phenomenon that only occurs when a near-perfect copy of a person is formed within the body of a puppet or a human who was not cured of the Petrification Disease. These contain the full memories of a life that is not yet lived, in Blue Butterfly Record. When used in forging a weapon, they impart the strongest and most potent effects, allowing for a weapon to be made with both Blade and Handle carrying complementary abilities.

The Listener's Ergo: Listeners contain a most curious property: Their Ergo can reflect their abilities upon death. Generally useless in combat, these bright Ergo Cores manifest as almost literal seeds that can be planted or shaped into a myriad of items. Notable Listener's Ergos include: - The Monad Lamp of Gemini (Alchemists hotly debate if Gemini himself was a Listener, but despite the Monad Lamp's existence, it remains in question.) - The Gold Coin Fruit Tree (Original Listener unknown) - The Blue Butterfly Record & The Stargazers (Sophia Monad.) Additional Listener's Ergos may exist, but these are the only ones known for now.

Precious Ergo: Precious Ergo - or Coloured Ergo, despite there only being three unique colours - are unique seeds of Ergo from times long past that later matured into high-grade, rare Ergo that reflects one of three metals. Copper Ergo is a conductivity enhancement. Often mistaken for actual copper, this Ergo can transmit electrical currents with virtually no energy loss and is reserved for emergency services and risky transport. Silver Ergo is primarily inert material that can be used to direct and stabilise other forms of Ergo. Most often used in Quartz Ergo to determine the final pliability and overall density of the material. This material can also prevent a material's durability from being worn down, and bits of it can be forged into Grindstones and used as a whetstone for a weapon. It is rumoured that the infamous Dorothy's Red shoes are made with Silver Ergo in the heel and stitching to ensure safe travel when she uses the special feature within her heels. Gold Ergo is used to power large machines and is best for travelling through dangerous waters and terrain, as it does not need to be renewed for a very, very long time.

Complete Ergo: Ergo that has the complete consciousness of the departed. This Ergo is best described as a homunculus, as it is in every sense, a human that can think, feel, and when provided the appropriate outlets, speak move as well. Notable complete Ergo sources: - Geppetto's Puppet - Real Boy Carlo - Nameless Puppet (A reality that never was)

[aroaceleovaldez]

I really like the idea that for the first few months of them hanging out post-HoO, Will had no idea Nico had stayed at CHB before. He was under the impression that Nico was more or less new to camp, since he had been a rogue demigod, and that he had just been an ally of CHB up until that point who had been to the camp but had never been a camper. The entire time Will just assumed he was the senior camper between the two of them, not knowing Nico had actually joined camp almost a whole two years prior to him and was instead returning.

Nico eventually realizes Will’s misconception and tries to explain it, but Will thinks Nico is messing with him until Nico explains the crack in the dining pavilion (which no one at camp besides Percy knows the origins of, save for maybe Annabeth, Grover, and Chiron) was from him the night he ran away (and maybe also shows Will his camp beads to further prove he’s not making it up, depending on if you believe he has one from BoTL or not). Will then gets to have the fun little journey of recontextualizing everything he knows about Nico.

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

An Unwelcomed Conversation

Sequel to the drabble where Iggy finds Mickey and Ian sleeping/cuddling

---

When Mickey wakes up, it’s evening. The room is darker than it was when he laid down. 

He blinks his bleary eyes, feels something firm under his cheek and remembers that he’s on top of Ian. His face flushes even though there’s no one there to see it. 

Ian’s still holding onto him too. His grip is looser now that he’s asleep but it’s still keeping him in place. 

It’s so fucking gay but it’s also warm and fucking relaxing so he doesn’t immediately move off of his boyfriend. Mickey closes his eyes, breathes out through his nose and lets himself bask in whatever the hell this is. 

It doesn’t last much longer. Ian stirs; he groans softly, kisses Mickey’s hair, tightening his hold on him. “Hey,” he mutters, his voice deeper from sleep. “What time is it?” 

“Don’t know. It’s dark.” 

“We should get up,” Ian mumbles. 

“Think again, Firecrotch. I’m fucking comfortable.” 

“I’m hungry, Mick.” 

“Boo fucking hoo. Ain’t like there’s anything in this shithole to eat,” Mickey yawns, turning his head to do it in Ian’s chest. 

“I’ll buy pizza,” Ian negotiates. It’s unfortunate timing that Mickey’s stomach growls. 

“Fuckin’ fine,” he knows he’s gone fucking soft which he blames all on Gallagher. Ain’t no other explanation why he wants to keep laying there. Now that he’s a little more awake, his ears catch onto some noise outside of their bedroom.“Fuck. The shitheads are back now. Don’t go buyin’ for them too. They don’t deserve any.” 

“They’re probably hungry too,” Ian yawns. 

“So fucking what? Let ‘em fend for themselves.” 

Ian swats him on the ass. “No.”

Mickey grumbles as he lifts himself off his ginger asshole. Ian stretches his arms on their way out. His brothers and Mandy are out in the living room, they’ve got beers in their hands and probably talking about something fucking stupid. “Ay.” 

He’s immediately suspicious by the smirks sent his way. 

“Hey,” Mandy goes for nonchalance, and brings her bottle up to her lips. 

Ian, of course, is none the wiser. “Hey, guys,” he chirps like a damn bird. “You want pizza?”

“Fuck yes,” Iggy agrees. 

“I want one just for me, Gallagher,” Colin instructs. “I ain’t sharing with these losers.” 

Mandy shoots him a dirty look. “Jesus, Col. Don’t be so fucking rude. Ian’s not fucking rich.” 

“Fuck off. He asked.” 

Mickey doesn't let the discussion of pizza distract him. He knows something’s up. And he's gonna find out what it is. But for now, he shoves his sister’s legs outta the way so he and Ian can sit down on the damn couch. “Move, bitch.” 

“Ugh- fuck off, Mickey!” Mandy scoots to the end, glaring. 

Ian joins him, phone in hand so he can order. He’s got one hand on Mickey’s knee, rubbing circles on the skin. 

It’s quiet, but he knows it won’t last long. He’s proven right when Iggy speaks up, his voice sly and it sends Mickey on alert. “The fuck were you doin’ in there so long, huh?” 

“None of your damn business,” Mickey answers instantly. 

Iggy and Colin share a smirk. 

“You sure about that?” His second oldest brother asks. It’s too casual to be genuine. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He’s not getting any answers and it’s starting to piss him off. 

“It means Ig caught you doin’ some homo shit,” Colin slouches some more in the chair. He’s got a devilish grin on his face and it makes Mickey want to punch it right off him. 

“What?” Mickey barks. 

“Mickey...” Ian says cautiously, like he’s prepared to grab him to hold him back. 

“You wanna see?” Iggy pulls up the picture on his phone to show it off. Mickey thinks he’s about to see one of their bare asses or some shit. He doesn’t expect it to be from today when he was in Ian’s arms. 

His face burns like it’s on fucking fire. Why the fuck does he even have a picture of them? 

Ian leans forward to get a better look at it. “Can you send that to me?”

“Since fucking when do you have my brother’s number?” Mickey says in disbelief. 

His boyfriend shrugs. “I have Colin and Mandy’s too.”

“Sounds like Gallagher’s about to have a new wallpaper,” Colin comments. 

“Damn right,” Ian says. 

In the midst of all this, Mandy complains to Ian, “You’ve never cuddled with me like that.” 

“I would, but your brother’s a jealous asshole,” Ian says, feigning mournfulness. 

Mickey ignores the fuckin’ idiots, shoving the phone out of Iggy’s hand because the bastard is still holding it up. 

“Ay!” His brother says loudly when it falls to the floor. 

“Go fuck yourself and delete the damn picture.” 

“Too late,” Colin drawls. “He already sent it to me.” 

“And me,” Mandy says. 

“You Motherfucker!” Mickey nearly leaps at Iggy but Ian’s fast and he’s too damn strong for him to escape. 

His brothers are unimpressed and quite frankly, unbothered. Iggy just leans back in his chair, grinning slyly. 

“Didn’t know you liked being held like that, Mick.” 

“I don’t-” Mickey blusters. 

“Cut the shit, assface,” Mandy snorts. “You’re not fooling anybody.”

 He gets ready to raise hell because so fucking what if he liked it? That doesn’t make him some bitch. 

“Is Mick clingy?” Colin asks Ian. Nosy ass. 

“Didn’t you see the way he was laying on him?” Mandy interjects. “He’s definitely clingy. I don’t know how Ian stands it.” 

“I don’t mind,” Ian says. Mickey doesn’t even have to look at him to know that he’s got that sappy look to him. He’s used to it and for the most part, stopped rolling his eyes when he sees it. 

“Course you don’t,” Colin mutters. “You’ve got a hardon for him.” 

“Guess we know who’s taking it up the ass,” Iggy teases. 

“You’re not wrong,” Ian pipes up, and Mickey’s head whirls around so fast like he’s some fucking haunted doll head. He doesn’t know who he’s gonna kill first but somehow, someway, somebody is gonna fucking die. 

“Go to hell, all of ya!”

“Sounds like somebody needs a hug,” Mandy takes advantage of the fact that he can’t move like he wants to, and slaps the back of his head. 

“Ay, yeah. Go hug him, Gallagher,” Iggy calls.

Mickey really shoulda kept Ian and his brothers apart. Nothing good came from all three of them plus Mandy ganging up on him. 

Ian grins, gives him a noisy kiss on the cheek despite Mickey’s scowl. “Do you need a hug, baby?” 

“I’m gonna fucking murder you,” Mickey whispers through grit teeth. 

“That’s his way of saying I love you,” Ian announces. 

“Damn,” Iggy’s gotta be high. Than again, there’s not many times he isn’t. He looks surprised like he believes this shit. “He must really love us.” 

Dumbass. 

“Not as much as Gallagher,” Colin says with a sneer. It’s unlike the kind of look Mickey assumes he would've gotten from his brother after the fag bashing he received from Terry. It’s playful and probably woulda meant more to Mickey if he wasn’t pissed. 

“Of course not,” Ian’s proud of that, of course. 

“You two make me sick,” Mandy sighs. She crosses her legs. “I think we should send that picture to Sandy. She’ll get a kick out of it.” 

“No!” Mickey snaps just as their brothers agree. 

“Who’s Sandy?” Ian asks. 

“Our cousin. She’s a lesbian so she won’t care,” Mandy shrugs. 

“Can you all just shut the fuck up?” Mickey feels his face flushing again and it’s really starting to get fucking annoying. 

“What’s wrong, Mick? Don’t want us to talk about you cuddlin’ anymore?” Colin snickers. 

“What else does Gallagher do for ya?” Iggy says. “Does he give you his jacket when you get cold?” 

“Has he ever swept you off your feet?” Mandy smirks. “Literally?” 

The questions are coming rapidly. Mickey’s torn between anger and embarrassment. Ian doesn’t even try to stop them. He’s enjoying it, the fucker. 

“That’s it,” Mickey shoves Ian’s arms away and stands. “I ain’t listening to anymore of you fuckers. So fucking what if that’s what we were doing? Not like any of you are getting anything so shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone.” 

His outburst quiet's them. But then Iggy opens his damn mouth again. 

“Ay, Mick. I forgot to ask earlier. You got any smokes I can use?” 

“No I don’t have fucking smokes!” Mickey bellows, turning on his heel and slams his bedroom door shut. 

“....Guess you didn’t cuddle him enough,” Iggy says to Ian. 

[sacrifical-lamb-core]

A Jason Grace Analysis 

While my Jason fics relies on mainly interpretation and headcanons, this one’s mostly going on the limited list of Jason’s life from the books. YOU’RE ALLOWED TO DISAGREE WITH ME,JUST DO IT RESPECTFULLY IN THE COMMENTS. be nice pls.

Spoiler alert 🚨 (for PJO, HOO and TOA)

Jason Grace is a character who was, in a way, screwed over by Rick during his writing of Heroes of Olympus and eiDzgventually Trials of Apollo. His story was very sad, but never explored to its fullest potential and in some cases didn’t make sense. He’s a character who is seen as ‘boring’ by the fandom, which , in a way, makes sense. Uncle Rick didn’t do him justice, so I’m here for a Jason Grace analysis.

Firstly, Jason’s incredibly depressing life. Because I do not know what vendetta that Rick had against my boy, but I would argue his story is the most tragic of everyone in the books. Yes. Even Nico. 

Jason’s mother was an unhinged alcoholic who was obsessed with fame. For the first 2 years of his life, he was basically looked after by his sister, who was also a young child. As hard as Thalia tried, she probably wasn’t the best caregiver on account of her age. His mother was unstable, which has got to leave some scars, even if you’re a young kid, because you still know what’s going on to some extent. And Jupiter seemed to leave the family to their own devices after a while, not even staying for a kid. So Jason has been basically abandoned, keep track of how often that happens. 

Then Jason was abandoned again, this time by his mother, left as a sacrifice for Hera. And he wasn’t sacrificed just anywhere, he was left at the Wolf House, where Lupa tested him to see if he was ‘pup or food’. So Jason, at two years old, was tested by a Wolf Goddess, a ruthless one at that, who threatened to kill him if he didn’t live up to expectations. Just a great environment for a toddler to live in. And while the time he spends in the Wolf House is unspecified, the general consensus is that it was for a year or two. This is more of a headcanon, but the implications of ‘pup or food’ could show that he stayed with her longer than the average Roman demigod. In SoN, it’s shown that most demigods do their Wolf House training for like, a week. And the training sounds harsh when Percy, age 16 does it. So imagine a 2 year old, going through that, constantly. Then he is off to New Rome. 

In HoO, it’s pointed out that Jason has 12 lines of his forearm for his years of service in New Rome. 12 lines representing 12 years of service.

Jason has been serving 12 years of military service since he was around 3. So that means that this literal infant is just… in the military. How does that work? Was baby Jason just running around in little armour? Was he doing the same drills as other kids when he was much, much younger? Also the fact that in Camp Jupiter, you train for 10 years, then go to live in New Rome. But Jason has been serving for longer than that, with 2 extra years. It seemed like he wasn’t going to retire anytime soon in the books, so that also adds some mystique to his character that was never explored.

Then we move into the other things at Camp Jupiter, which is that Jason was treated like a statue or a star, instead of a person. Hazel says that he is ‘more legend than boy’ which is so sad! This kid, this 15 year old is seen by those around him as a hero, a legend to look up to. Did Jason have any other friends? While Reyna seems to be close, Reyna had a crush on him, and while he didn’t know that, it must have made the friendship a bit… different. Jason isn’t specified to have any other friends in the books, probably because everyone was to in awe of his status as a Son of Jupiter. And while Jason may care about the rules, in Roman terms he was a very radical person. He was just trying to live a calm life, to not be known only as the Son of Jupiter. He joins the least respected cohort. He tries to take less important quests. But it doesn’t work, because he does get assigned big quests and while he is in the 5th cohort, people still treat him like a legendary hero instead of just a guy. And while the phrase ‘victim of nepotism’ is quite controversial, I think that Jason actually fits that bill.

Then we come to SoN. You know that tweet that’s like: hey we’re calling off the search party. we found a different guy out there we like more. That’s what Camp Jupiter did to Jason. Again, he was abandoned, this time by his own Camp. Like I know 8 months is a while, but oh my gosh, do we have to elect a new praetor? There’s also a contradiction. Percy is a Greek demigod, which isn’t a thing the Roman’s really like. Yet after a couple weeks at Camp, he’s already a PRAETOR? While Jason was put down for being ‘unrecognisable as a Roman’, they elected a very Greek person as a praetor? He was immediately accepted into the highest position of power? Also the fact that Jason wasn’t looked for. At all. While CHB was scrambling to find their boy (as they should), no one in CJ cared? Like, aren’t they the ones with the giant searching eagles? It seemed like everyone forgot about him, with him being missing not being a huge thing for most people (except Hazel and Reyna to my memory, fill me in if anyone else gave two frogs) and that’s gotta sting. The knowledge that your entire camp not only replaced you, but didn’t bother to look. 

Jason also had amnesia and never regained huge chunks of his memory. That must be horrible, to have parts of your life gone, to not remember much. While Percy got everything back, Jason got so much less!

Jason goes on the quest, then comes back. He goes to CHB, goes to school. He starts having a normal life. And he gets broken up with, making him genuinely sad. And while I know that Piper had no ill intentions whatsoever when she broke up with him, that also could count as an abandonment. Because they don’t really keep in touch in the book, they seem to go their separate ways. So kinda half of an abandonment, even though both parties weren’t in blame.

Finally we have his death. While Thalia got turned into a tree by Zeus, a slightly caring act for a god, Jason died. This could be because Jupiter is crueller than Zeus or it could be because of the cycle of patricide, with Jupiter killing his father, who did the same to his father. Maybe it’s because of his paranoia. Maybe it’s because Jason called Jupiter unwise, but it still counts as an abandonment. The god saved Thalia (she could be seen as non threatening, not a killer. Not someone who could carry on the tradition of son killing father) and abandoned Jason, left him to die the ‘heroes death’. 

Jason’s life has been one big struggle and rejection. 4.5 times, he was abandoned, left somewhere by someone. Left to die in the end. He was a child soldier, meaning that he was a kid that never got to be a kid, just a tool for the gods, for years and years. And he struggled with making friends, making new rules, trying to push the camp into the future. Seen as unroman, even Reyna says it. That’s an awful life, one that Rick Riordan never explored and one that’s contradicted at times.

Jason was a character that Rick dropped the ball on so hard.

Because, while his life is incredibly difficult, it has so much potential for storytelling, that Rick  dashes on the rocks, leaving the fandom with a character who people acknowledge as weak and boring.

So, in the fandom, Jason is regarded as having no personality, or being a knock off Percy. So, Jason not really having a huge personality, as a kid who trained as a soldier from a young age, makes sense. He was spending half his childhood trying to survive so trying to figure out what MBTI type he was may have fallen low on his list of priorities. Then he got amnesia, and sent on the Seven quest. So Jason not having time to develop a sense of personality makes sense, buts here’s the catch. It’s never explored. Rick never, ever explains why that might be happening, which could make for a compelling story arc. Rick never expands on the child soldier thing at all, which sucks because instead of Jason having an identity crisis about Greek and Roman camps, he could be really weird since he’s a child soldier. (I’m aware that they’re all child soldiers, but I refer to Jason as child soldier since he was just a baby when he started)

And the seeds were there. For example, the scene with Jason being wary about Nico and not wanting to rescue him, that could have been Jason being taught that practicality is key. That some people are expendable. He could have learnt that from the ARMY THAT HE GREW UP IN. That could have been a plot point, that Jason struggles with taking breaks or knowing that’s he’s appreciated, that his childhood was abusive and not normal, that life isn’t a constant battle for survival. That could have been his arc! All of the pieces were right there! Rick, dude, you’re a great author, but you fumbled so hard on this one!

And also the fact that… unpopular opinion time….

Jason wasn’t stronger than Percy, but he should have been.

Jason has been in the army since he was a toddler, and I know that Percy’s really powerful, but come on! Jason being this really nice, really powerful kid with super strong powers and no social skills could have slayed. Maybe this is the inner Jason stan in me, but I personally think that Jason should have been stronger than Percy, simply because it makes more sense. Jason has been training for ages and ages, he single handedly fought a Titan at younger than Percy (around 14 or 15) so it seemed like his powers were muted by Rick. This could probably be because the PJO fandom is like a toxic TikTok boy mom when it comes to Percy (I can be like this too), making him centre stage and getting annoyed when he isn’t. Percy is meant to be the strongest, which isn’t bad, in some situations it just doesn’t fit. Or maybe Percy’s just wildly OP.

This is not to say that in the book Jason was weak, but people treat him like that.

And Jason’s really sad life is never explored! He should have been struggling with 1500 mental illnesses at once because that constant abandonment? The stress of everyone’s expectations? Trying not to die at like 4? He’s neither the eldest nor a girl, but he’s got so much eldest daughter syndrome and is burnt out gifted kid syndrome personified. And it’s hardly touched on! 

There’s also the fact that’s a really small nitpick, but, the fact that Jason only has 1 single lip scar? That shows that Rick wasn’t paying attention to his own character. Jason trained with the Wolf Goddess then was in the army, he should be covered in them.

In conclusion, Jason’s very sad and tragic story was hardly utilised and the very interesting parts of his character were not used in a way they could be. But don’t worry Jason. While Rick Riordan may have flopped you, you are one of my favourite characters.

Peace ☮️

[ficsandgiggles]

Core Muscles (Natasha x Yelena x Reader)

“Ahh so pleased your prompts are open again! I’m not great at asks but how about reader x one of/a combo of the Marvel girls (actors or characters, up to you) training in the gym. Reader is working on core strength and one of the girls points to the muscles reader should be working on and reader loses it because their stomach is their worst spot so of course the girls go to town. Have some fun with it!”

A/N: I really hope this is okay! I have no knowledge about these types of exercises although I wish I had the motivation to learn/do them 😂 but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Word count: 1255

Warnings: None

“So you’re working on your core strength today?”

You jumped when you heard another voice, but relaxed when you recognised it, turning around to see Natasha enter the gym, wearing a tank top and gym pants with her hair up in a ponytail.

You vowed to yourself that you would start looking after your body more, as you knew that sometimes you needed more than just your powers in a fight or for self-defence in general.

You nodded in response to Nat’s question. “Yeah… I heard that having a stronger core can do more than just give you abs, it can help balance and stuff.” You replied, briefly looking at the mirror, you had some insecurities with your body, but you could see improvement. But now you regret wearing a crop top since you were no longer alone.

“You’re learning your stuff,” Natasha commented with a smile, going towards the punching bag. “If you need any help, give me a shout, I’ll be here for a bit.” She told you before beginning her workout.

“Thanks…” you replied quietly, trying to concentrate and return to what you were doing. You decided to do the classic plank, despite hating it, there were a lot of benefits in doing it. So you got down and stretched into the position. You went into your own little world, trying to stay there for as long as possible. You were so zoned out that you didn’t notice that Yelena had walked into the room.

“You are putting yourself through torture by doing the plank you know.”

You snapped out of your head and collapsed, turning around to see Yelena smirking. “I was getting to my record time!” I whined, getting up to shove at her.

“Oh boo hoo, if you’re looking at strengthening your tummy muscles I can show you a few more exercises you can do.” She offered, and you immediately nodded, anything that avoids doing the plank.

“Okay, so you will need to be on the floor on all fours, then you stretch out an arm and then the opposite leg and switch. It’s called the bird dog.” She chuckled as you followed her directions.

You could definitely feel your core muscles working and got more and more confident as you tried to extend your limbs higher and higher, thus arching your back a little.

“You do not need to stretch high, it’s about control.” Yelena guided, putting her hands on your ribs to gently move you back to the original position, making you flinch and briefly bring your arm back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” She asked, you immediately shook your head, smiling innocently.

“Oh, no, I just didn’t expect you to touch me.” You replied casually, doing a few more rounds of the exercises before giving yourself a break.

Your eyes flickered towards Natasha, who was watching the two of you, she gave you a brief smirk as if she had already figured out why you reacted the way you did when her sister touched you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I will be more careful next time.” The blonde apologised. “Another classic exercise though is called the dead bug, and you need to be on your back for this one.”

You nodded, rolling over so you were lying on your back, Natasha had now stopped her workout completely to observe you and Yelena, but you didn’t say anything and listened to the blonde.

“So it is basically like the bird dog but you’re on your back and you are bending your knees toward you instead of stretching it out.” She got on the floor and gave you an example, you quickly understood what she was doing and started doing the same.

“You are arching your back a little,” Yelena told you, already forgetting what she said about being more careful when touching you and putting her hand on your tummy to gently push you back down flat onto your back.

Once again, you flinched and dropped your arms and legs, blushing as Yelena gave you a confused look.

“Are you okay?” She asked, concerned that she had hurt you again.

“They’re fine, they’re just like you,” Natasha replied on your behalf, coming over and skittering into her sister's ribs briefly, causing her to yelp and slam her arms down, before smirking over at you.

“Oh, that’s what it is?” Yelena asked, lighting up a little as she knelt next to you and put a hand on your shoulder to hold you to the floor so you couldn’t escape. “Are you ticklish, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head as you tried to wiggle away, but it only made Yelena skitter her fingers into your ribs with her free hand.

“Pretty sure they are,” Nat replied, smiling a little before sitting on your ankles, not doing anything just yet but it was enough to make you gasp and wiggle even more, despite knowing that you couldn’t throw the Black Widow off your legs.

Yelena grinned, now just going for it and using both hands to skitter up and down your sides and ribs, causing you to arch your back with a giggly squeal. “Hehehehey nohohoho!”

“It seems that you’re right, Natasha, very ticklish indeed, and laughing helps with strengthening core muscles as well so this could be a part of your exercise routine!” Yelena beamed and now scribbled into your belly, causing you to squeal with laughter, especially since Nat started tickling your feet.

“GUHUHUHUYS QUIT IHIHIHIHIT!” You screeched, scrunching your toes up whilst shoving at Yelena, shaking your head helplessly.

“Yelena is right Y/N, laughing is highly beneficial, so I think this needs to happen more often,” Nat commented loud enough for you to hear as she held your toes back to scribble underneath them whilst Yelena now experimented with a raspberry.

You blushed, your laughter going silent as Yelena blew the raspberry, you weakly pushed at her head as you squirmed around as much as you felt able to.

Eventually, they let you up, and you immediately curled up, taking in deep breaths with the occasional giggle slipping out.

“That was… so mean…” you huffed out, making the two women chuckle fondly, Yelena ruffling your hair.

“I don’t think it was, I think you loved it more than you know.” Yelena teased, to which you flipped her off.

“Hey!” Yelena gasped and briefly dug under your arms the second you sat up, making you shriek and slam your arms down. “You know I’m right!”

You remained quiet, looking at Natasha and watching for any judgement. The redhead just smiled fondly and nodded, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s quite sweet if it’s true, we’re happy to do it whether it’s to strengthen your core muscles or just to cheer you up.” She reassured, pulling you into a hug, which was swiftly joined by Yelena who didn’t want to feel left out.

“This is not the last time I’m going to tickle you because it was just plain adorable.” She teased, suddenly raspberrying your neck to make you squeal before letting you go.

“Now come on, I’ll challenge you to a planking contest, all three of us.” Yelena grinned as the two women pulled away and got into position, followed by you doing the same.

Of course, you lost, and happily accepted the punishment for being the loser. But you didn’t mind, it brought you closer to the Widow sisters whilst enjoying the feeling of just letting yourself laugh for a bit.

[hiemaldesirae]

AU where *Vox* is the one who disappears for 7 years, and ALL of Hell suffers for it. The remaining 2 Vees end up with their souls contracted to Alastor, Carmilla and Zestial have to become allies and join forces-most overlords do by the time Vox comes back there ARE no solo Overlords left, except technically Rosie and Alastor but even they are 'allies' in the loosest sense. Everyone else is paired up and it all because of the madness of Radio Demon at the disappearance of his muse. He's shacked up inside of The Vees Tower, taking over Vox's floor as his own, adding a radio tower to the side of it.

And then, 7 years after his disappearance, Vox reappears and joins Charlie Morningstar at her hotel for rehabilitation of sinners of all things, with Angel Dust as her first client, and--

The very foundations of Hell shake.

OHHH this one is fun. yesyesyes im so onboard with this one!!! i think about swap aus very fondly no matter how many times i see premises where vox and al get their storylines swapped ill ALWAYS eat it up.

okay so i do have some questions i want to get over with first. did al and vox breakup before the whole. (waves hands) seven year leave thing. like did they fight before he left because that brings a wholly different dynamic to the table rather than 'oh vox just disappeared one day', which in fairness i can see driving alastor crazy in a much different way, but also if they'd fought beforehand and alastor had expected to see vox back with the vees the day after or something, only to find him missing with no one aware of where he was... hoo boy. and also- does alastor take over the entertainment district here? like, he's got val and velvette as contracted souls, so do they stop running the district because they can no longer hold the respect of those they were once under and just do menial tasks under al's servitude, or is there a completely different dynamic here that ive passed over?

anyway with that over with... (bashes my head into the wall) YES I NEED THIS. ohmuy god. the aus where vox is sponsoring the hazbin hotel because of a deal he made with lucifer or something have been haunting my head for weeks upon end and i cant help but imagine something similar here- i can just imagine how pissed alastor would be to learn of the fact that vox was back and didnt even think to go and SHOW HIMSELF to him first??? vox was HIS. his muse, his rival, his stupid, stupid picture box- and he went off to make a deal with that bright-faced, stupid little princess of hell? instead of going back to alastor? no, no, no, that cant do, absolutely not, VALENTINO, you have to get your oblivious little employee under control before i rip out both your throats-- anyway. i imagine al probably hates intearcting with either of the vees but he does to make sure theyre not dead or trying to kill him (its all for voxs sake. he wouldn't be glad to return and find his friends slaughtered, after all.)

sorry i dont really have any other thoughts to addonto this (theres a reason why i havent written/drawn a swap au with them and its because ive no idea how the story would change given all the different nuances that we dont yet know... so. yeah) except maybe that alastor would probably be pissed as hell at the attention vox gets when he returns- because he was a celebrity figure before he was gone, too, and his return is like the equivalent to a comeback on princess diana's revenge dress level. instead of being pissed that other sinners are paying attention to vox in a 'they should be looking at me' kind of way though he's more pissed in a 'no one should look at him except for me' kind of way which really weirds charlie vaggie and angel out who are kinda just going like... 'are you sure about that guy man' and vox just shrugs like 'well last time i was face to face with him we had a really bitter breakup fight so idek if hes sure about me tbh'

[darbyoakana]

An Overlord's Tail - Chapter 1

An Overlords Tail Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Summary: Alastor X reader, F/M. You are new to the hotel staff working under Alastor. He spends his days pestering and tormenting you. But that pestering turns into a competition, one you want to win. Can you get the upper hand? Are you getting too close to him? Warnings: No real warnings for this chapter, just Alastor being a dick. This story is 18+, minors can fuck right off.

Other Notes: Thanks @sailorsmouth for the doodle and encouragement!

Darby Link Tree

___________________________________________

Chapter 1: A New Start

It had been three months since you walked out of your job at VoxTek and you were starting to get desperate. Without work to focus on, everything else felt so much harder. You had nothing but stress to distract you and it wasn’t enough. You pushed your self-loathing to the side.

You rushed out the door, wanting to get to the interview early. The last interview you had went poorly. Perhaps it was the interviewer, or maybe it was the fact that you were covered by entrails from an incident out front. Hell is a wild place, expect the unexpected. But you were set, nothing was going to ruin this. You adjusted your plastic poncho, surprise bodily fluids or parts were going to get you today. The joke, per usual, was on you. You should have also worn rain boots you thought, as a large gush of blood filled your shoes. You groaned. Watching the still-gushing corpse being dragged down the alleyway next to you. 

The cafe door's bell dinged as you walked in, pulling off the poncho. Despite pouring your shoes out on the curb, they still made a soggy squish as you walked. The cafe was pretty empty except for one person sitting at a table. You froze. No way, you thought, that can't be who I'm meeting

Vaggie sat nervously at the booth waiting. She had lost track of how many interviews she had gone through for this position. She had hired eight people so far and none of them had lasted longer than a week. Why did Alastor have to be such a pain in the ass? The hotel needed help, since the last extermination and the elimination of Adam, sinners started to accept the hotel. Their residency numbers had shifted dramatically and more staff was needed to keep things running. But for whatever reason, the one position that needed to be filled was constantly challenged by the person Vaggie was trying to help in the first place. Vaggie looked up and waved at you, you hesitantly approached the table. 

"Hi! So nice to meet you!" Vaggie got up and shook your hand. You both sat down. Typical interview discussions ensued, past experience, general information about the hotel, etc. You could see that Vaggie was eager, maybe a little stressed. 

"So.. what exactly is my job position?" you asked.

"Well.... there's a lot of miscellaneous work that needs to be done until we figure out a better workflow for the hotel while it goes through these changes. But for the most part you'll uh..." her tone became painful. " Be assisting Alastor...." Your facial expression dropped to concern.

"That's uh, a hell of a job..." you said. 

"Well...." Vaggie's teeth were gritting together, knowing she needed to be upfront about the position. "...based on your resume, I think you are the most qualified person so far. And the pay is great! It kinda has to be at this point.” She sighed “Look, we’re getting desperate." 

Oh, you were qualified alright, six years at VoxTek putting up with the most insane bullshit you could imagine. If it wasn't Velvette being an absolute cunt, it was Valentino being a fucking nightmare, Vox surprisingly was the least painful to work with. Which is why you ended up in the position you did. He eventually made you his assistant, to keep you convenient and close. And frankly, if you could put up with Vox's boo hoo "Alastor doesn't love me" baby bullshit, how hard could this job be? At best, Alastor doesn't like you and you keep looking for jobs. At worst... you die a terrible and painful death. At least then the job worry wouldn't be a concern anymore. Fuck it, you thought. 

"Yeah, I do see your point." you sighed. "Alright."

"Can you start tomorrow?" she asked eagerly

They had offered you a room at the hotel. You felt it best to endure the trial period Alastor seemed to be implementing before you gave up your crummy apartment. You laid in bed both excited and dreading tomorrow. Vox was going to lose his shit, you thought. You knew WAY too much about his personal life concerning Alastor and there was nothing in Heaven or Hell that would convince Vox you weren't doing this just to hurt him. But that was his problem. In honesty, it was the last place you wanted to work. You wanted so badly to be free of your current situation. Let things go and move on. You hoped this wouldn't blow up in your face. But most things did, it was Hell after all. 

You woke early, the Hotel was a good distance from your apartment. You took a cab to be safe on time. You didn't bother with the poncho, Alastor struck you as someone who would enjoy you being uncomfortable covered in drying sticky blood. The lobby was large, you hadn't been to the Hotel before and you didn't know what to expect but you found yourself impressed. Most of Vox’s footage was from the outside of the hotel. 

Vaggie waved you down and welcomed you. Introduced you to the staff one by one. Charlie was thrilled to meet you. But you got the feeling she felt that way about anyone and anything. Vaggie went over the floor plan of the hotel, kitchen, dining room, and so on. You scribbled away on a notepad. Sounded like the dress code was relaxed here, you felt relief. Vox always made you wear these business suit-like outfits that surely came from Val's studio, they were so tight and short. You didn't mind at the time, it made your unprofessional activities much easier, but the idea of wearing your own clothes sounded nice.

"Here is your desk. You'll be using the computer to log complaints from the guests, ordering supplies, typical stuff." She looked down to see a shattered computer screen. "UGHHH pendejo! I recommend saving a backup copy of everything you do, Alastor is still protesting the use of the computer and keeps destroying it." It didn't surprise you, you knew for a fact Vox spends all his free time spying on the Hotel. And any electronic device was an in for him. "ALASTOR!!!!" She yelled. 

"No need to shout" Alastor was right next to her. She jumped. 

"Stop doing shit like this!" she pointed to the computer. "You are sabotaging the hotel!" 

"I'm doing no such thing." He looked at his nails, uninterested. 

"Uuugghhhhh! .. Whatever." Vaggie pinched her fingers between her eyes and collected herself. She took a deep breath. "Alastor, this is ---" She was cut off by the sound of Charlie calling for her, tears gushing from her eyes. "Shit. Sorry! I'll be right back!" She gave you a look of concern, and you gave her a reassuring nod, letting her know you'd be fine without her. 

"I assume you are the new replacement." Alastor said flatly.

"And hopefully the last." you said cheerily. 

"Mmm. Hope. So fun to destroy!" he spun his microphone. "Very well then. Follow me." 

You followed him through the hotel as he listed item after item that needed to be done. You scratched away at your notepad. He was clearly trying to overwhelm you, it didn't however. It felt similar to the days that you assisted Velvette. Constant list of demands that were consistently changing without notice. 

"Actually, Alastor sir, there's something I'd like to discuss before we go any further. If that's alright?" 

He leaned towards you, head tilted. "And what might that be, my dear?" 

"One of the reasons Vaggie thought I would be a good fit for this position is my previous experience." 

"I'm afraid I haven't looked at your resume, inlighten me, will you?"

"Well.." It was awkward and somewhat painful to say, but you knew it needed to be done. "For the last six years I've been employed at V Tower, the last three years I was Vox's personal assistant." You had previously been very confident up until this point, but this was uncomfortable. "I figured it was best to tell you right away, rather than you finding out later. I didn't want it to look like I was hiding something." 

"Hmm. Very wise of you. Why pursue new employment?" 

"There were a lot of reasons. But my relationship with Vox had become... unprofessional." You pushed the image of Vox fucking you on his desk back down into the pit it came up from. "He's pushy and controlling, both as a boss and... whatever else we were. Always wanting more, pushing boundaries constantly. But bottom line, he broke my trust.” 

Alastor knew exactly what you meant. Vox had constantly pushed for more from Alastor. And being set in his ways, Alastor often felt like he and Vox were sheets of sandpaper slowly wearing away at each other. He of course didn't tell you any of this, there he remained with his unnerving smile. 

"Hmm." He leaned in closer to you and placed the tip of his claw under your chin, tilting your head to an uncomfortable angle. "Quite a dangerous move, switching sides like this." Alastor was a bit taller than you, but right now it felt like he towered over you, you knew he was trying to intimidate you. Radio static hissed in your ears. You stood your ground, staring into his deep eyes. Eyes that felt like dark endless pits. He snapped back to his smiling self, straightening up. "Well, enduring those buffoons, maybe you will last longer than the others!" He chuckled. "I do however appreciate the disclosure. Come, come." You took an exhale of relief and followed. You hoped this information would make you more valuable in the long run.

You knew a lot, more than you should, about the inner workings of VoxTek. Vox was arrogant, he liked to boast. Showing you the newest upgrades that haven't been released, all the ways he spied on the city. One thing in particular, you savored. He left you alone in his penthouse once, you weren't snooping per se, but tucked away was a small ..shrine? For lack of a better word. Where Vox kept all his trinkets and photos from when he and Alastor were "friends". You felt, should the need call for it, you could be very helpful to the Hotel if Vox became a bigger threat. Though guilt did run through you, despite the bad parts, you missed Vox. A lot of those things were told to you in confidence. And you didn't have any intention of sharing them unless Vox forced you to. You knew it was only a matter of time before he got wind of your new job. And no doubt in your mind, Vox would indeed be a personal problem. 

_______________________________________________

The days following would be a struggle, Alastor wanted his coffee and paper by 7 AM. The hotel was at least a forty-five-minute walk and you didn't have much left in your account to pay for a cab. A room at the hotel sounded more and more appealing. Entering the gates you picked up the paper, putting it under your arm. You set your bag down at your desk and headed to the kitchen. Pulling out your notepad, you flipped to the page where you wrote down instructions on how to make Alastor's coffee the way he liked it. Hopefully, he wasn't the type to throw it at you if it wasn't right. Velevette threw her coffee at you once, burning your arm. You were ready to make some new memories that didn't involve the trauma endured by the V's. 

Coffee, cloth napkins, and paper were placed on a tray. You contemplated folding the napkin like a swan but decided against it. It was a silly thought, and you didn't want to come off as trying too hard, even though that was what he set you up for, to try hard and fail. You tapped your nails against the tray as the elevator ascended up to Alastor's room. It was 6:58 AM. You stood outside his door watching the clock. Only at 7 AM, on the dot, did you set the tray down in front of his door. Alastor was sitting in his chair reading, ready to scold you for being early and found himself slightly impressed. Getting rid of you the typical way might be harder than he thought. All the others were so easy to frighten. But if there was anything Alastor loved, it was a challenge. He had been bored out of his mind playing this hotel game. Unable to leave and pursue more interesting ventures. And the rest of the core group of hotel residents were getting annoyed with his antics. Maybe you could entertain him for a little while. Surely there had to be something that would break you. He waited for the elevator to descend before retrieving the tray. 

You snuck into the kitchen to make yourself some coffee, before anyone came in to make breakfast. You made yourself at home at your desk. The drawers were a mess from the previous employees. You sipped your coffee and organized your papers. Looking over previous orders for supplies and food, trying to get an idea of how much the hotel goes through monthly.

"Why good morning!" Alastor said, suddenly at your side, bent over, his face a bit too close to yours. You tried your best not to jump, you had a feeling that would be happening often. "At your desk already? Don't you want to join your new comrades at the breakfast table? Hmm?" 

"Good morning to you too sir. No, not today. Until I have a full understanding of my schedule, I don't want to add anything unnecessary to my plate." 

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, as they say." 

"I'm pretty sure that's a con cereal companies used to sell sugar to children." Alastor held in a laugh.  "Coffee is fine for now. Speaking of-" You looked up at him. "How was your coffee this morning? Did I make it correctly?" 

"It was passable I suppose." It was the best he could do without lying and without giving you praise. "There are some errands I need to be done." He handed you a list. Skimming over it, it seemed doable to get done by the end of the day. "I want it done by noon." 

"...noon?!" It was already 9 AM, here it was, an impossible task. Setting you up to fail. Maybe you could use some of your third-party contacts from VoxTek? "Alright.. I'll see what I-"

You were both suddenly interrupted by the boisterous sounds coming from the dining room. Leaning forward over your desk, you could see Charlie was singing. 

"Hmm. Glad I skipped breakfast...." you said flatly. You didn't see it but Alastor smirked. 

The tasks given proved to be a bit difficult. All things Alastor could have easily done himself, but where was the fun in that? You did take advantage of some of your previous contacts, which helped immensely. You took care of a few calls before heading to the city. Most of the errands were pick-ups and drop-offs. One task, in particular, you'd have to call in a favor for. Meanwhile, Alastor was eavesdropping, hoping to see you struggle and stress. 

"Frankie, listen, if this order isn't here by noon, I will personally come down there, pull your intestines out your asshole, and festoon them along the fence of this establishment. Do you understand?" Frankie babbled in your ear. "Great, I'm so glad we could come to an agreement. As always, a pleasure to work with you." 

Alastor couldn't help but have a genuine smile on his face, he wouldn't admit it, but he liked how you got things done. Threatening someone in such a creative way delighted him. 

You hoofed it around the city for hours, practically running from destination to destination. You were exhausted and sweaty when you arrived back at the hotel. It was a few minutes before noon, just in time to see Frankie's delivery truck be unloaded. 

"In the kitchen, please. Thanks, fellas!" You yelled to them.

Your arms were full as you dumped everything on your desk. Gently folding Alastor's dry cleaning over your chair, stacking some of the items. Including a few books. How does this help the hotel? You thought. Hoping these kinds of tasks would end once Alastor was bored with you. 

"Well- color me impressed. All with five minutes to spare!" Alastor appeared in front of your desk. "Though it does seem like something is missing. That's too bad. I had such high hopes for you, dear." 

You gave him the biggest shit-eating grin you could muster and pointed at the two men coming through the door hauling a freshly slaughtered deer to the kitchen. If you weren't already intensely looking at him you would have missed Alastor's eye twitch. Someone might as well handed you a trophy. It took everything in you to not showboat as you followed the delivery men into the kitchen.

The deer was laid on the large island in the middle of the kitchen. You signed their papers and the men were gone. Alastor, suddenly in an apron, was ready to go. A black tentacle sliced its head off with a sharp crack. 

"Hold this." 

He handed you the head. You held it by the antlers, dripping blood onto the floor by your feet. You stood there for a while, watching Alastor prepare. Realizing that he didn't need your help, this was just another task to pain you. The head was heavy and your arms were getting tired. As you adjusted, trying to give your arms a break, you felt the antlers texture in your hands, it reminded you of a gaudy hotel in Montana your parents took you to in the summer of '92. 

"If you do this often, which I get the feeling you do- you could save the antlers and make a chandelier. It would look good by the bar."

"Hmmm." Alastor glanced at you as he removed the skin. It wasn't a bad idea, however, he could just make one just like he made the bar itself. But an opportunity was found. "Very well then." He snapped his fingers and the head fell off the antlers. Landing on your feet with a splat. Filling your shoes with coagulating blood. 

You groaned. What the fuck, were these shoes cursed? Blood squished between your toes. The sensory overload made you want to scream. You swallowed it down. Instead, letting out a loud sigh. You sat the antlers down on the counter and picked up the head. Alastor couldn't help but to cackle.

"So glad you are amused." You said flatly. 

"Oh indeed I am." 

In truth, he was. But also disappointed. He didn't get so much as a yelp out of you. A measly groan? He was losing his touch. But the clear discomfort the drying blood in your shoes provided would have to be enough. At this point, the head you clutched to your chest was dripping down your front. You greatly regretted wearing a skirt today. Alastor watched the blood drip down your legs from the corner of his eye. Pooling further in your shoes. 

You stood there for what felt like ages. How long did it take to gut a deer? He couldn't be using the whole thing, could he? What was he even making? You got tired of standing and hopped on the counter, hugging the head now in your lap. You were already covered in blood, it didn’t really matter now that the base of the severed head was soaking into your lap. Thankful your skirt was at least black. Alastor would have to try harder than this to drive you out. He’d previously been relying too heavily on his reputation and the fear people felt from his presence. He would have to get more creative with you, how fun. 

"Hiiiiiii guuuuuuuys!" Charlie popped her head into the kitchen, breaking your concentration. "There is a short group activity we are about to do! Would you like to join us? " She glances at you, then at the glob of sticky at your feet. "Mayyyybeee we could get you some slippers...? Alastor?"

"You may go." You’d rather hold the deer, but you weren’t about to let him know that. 

You dropped the head in the sink with a thud and a squelch. Alastor smirked, enjoying the squishing sound your shoes made as you walked away. You were grateful to have clean feet and warm slippers. But the short group activity wasn't short at all. It had been several hours at this point and the deer head didn't seem so bad now. You sat slumped in a chair, waiting for your turn to share your “feelings”. Charlie had sung two songs now, she was a lovely person but this activity was making you want to claw your eyes out. You sat up straight when you saw the kitchen door open, pretending to be engaged in the activity. God forbid Alastor to catch on that this was torment for you, he’d end up signing you up for every activity Charlie came up with.  

The rest of the day was filled with busy work. By the time 5 PM rolled around you were exhausted. You grabbed your jacket and purse, heading out the front door. By the time you got home, you felt like you were going to collapse. Just get through this week, you thought, things will level out after that. You trudged up the four flights of stairs and as you approached your apartment you noticed a note on your door. EVICTION NOTICE in bold print. You ripped it off the door and crumpled it in your hand.

Great. 

[katlyntheartist]

Hey everyone, so all webcomics are on a temporary hiatus. I’m organizing all of my story ideas and plot threads, making sure that everything flows nicely and is consistent and stuff like that and it’s taking longer than I expected. I’m also finally starting that Sonic Boom fan comic I’ve been putting off for years so woo-hoo :)

If you would like to help support me, the link to my ko-fi is in my bio. Anything you can give is always greatly appreciated. You can also check out my Inprnt, got some new prints up in the shop. The link is also in the bio.

Thank you to everyone who reads, shares, and comments on my comics. I love telling stories and I am so glad that so many of you are enjoying them so far. So excited for you all to read what happens next. You guys are amazing!

[okkennymay]

HoO BOI! Now that was a dishearteningly long hiatus 👀 But good news! My brother and I were finally able to move back out after 6 long months, the week before Christmas at that! It’s been such a whirlwind since then, recovering from the holidays and ensuring the new house meets all my tricky needs took longer than I’d have liked but goodness-

It feels good to be back 💖

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I’d regretfully fell into my “recovery mode” to deal with how consistently sick I was from the stress and effort of trying to move back out, which made the ordeal take oh so much longer- a vicious circle indeed @v@ But I got my Christmas Miracle and here I am! 

I missed you guys so much ;C; 💖

The time off did give me a lot of time to think, and I realized I need to be lot kinder to myself in regards to my own expectations, I always want to give 110%, to my art and to each and every single person I talk to, to each one of you, but I have got to learn to accept that’s just going to drive me into the ground time and time again ‘cause I just don’t have it in me no matter how much I want it, my heart too big for my got dayum good- I can’t stand the idea of anyone feeling left out or forgotten but I force that to be the inevitable by pushing myself too far time and time again and crashing 9v9″

I try, try again, this time as OKKennyMay, ‘cause it’s good enough to just be Okay and I need to remind myself of that 😤

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #50: hoo boy sure hope my mom doesn’t hear about this

Believe me. I wanted to bust in all dramatic like in the third act of a predictable holofilm and whip out some cliché little one-liner—“my ears were burning,” “fancy seeing you here,” “well, well, well, looks like Master Luke double-booked appointments”—but for once in my life, I was thinking about someone other than myself: Fannie.

'Cause...I hadn’t known Fan was here. So...she probably didn’t know I was here, either. She was clearly super stressed. I didn’t want to freak her out.

And, well. I didn’t know if I was ready to face her. I mean—I had just heard her agree with Luke that she should break up with me, for crying out loud. (Is it still breaking up if you never even got to the point of being official…? I don’t know.)

But, anyway. Fannie was obviously really upset at the idea of losing me (is it bad that that made me feel happy?). So—she wasn’t the problem.

Luke was.

I stepped quietly down the hall and ducked into the library and waited until I heard Fannie's footsteps fade away. 

Part of me thought about just...giving up and leaving. Bailing on Luke and getting out of there with what was left of my dignity. I mean, I wasn’t supposed to hear that conversation. (Or…was I? Luke had known what time I was coming. Why would he be having that talk with Fannie now?)

But there was another part of me that knew there was no way I was just gonna let this go. What made Luke think this was any of his business? What about me, exactly, did he think wasn’t good enough? What authority did he think he had to tell Fannie who she could or couldn't be with? I couldn't just listen to all that and walk away. And I wasn’t going to let Luke take her from me. Not without daring him to say it to my face, at least.

It felt really weird, coming into my uncle’s office like everything were normal. Luke looked up as I walked in, and his face lit up in the way it always did.

“Ben,” he said warmly. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah. You too,” I replied, my voice sounding hollow.

“Sorry it’s a little later than we had planned,” Luke apologized. “I had an appointment that ran a bit longer than expected.”

For a second, he didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong. He gestured toward a chair—probably right where Fannie had been, moments ago—like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t just overheard him convince the only girl I had ever managed to fall in love with to choose—like, what, the Force?—over me. Like everything was fine.

But, it wasn’t. And I think he figured that out pretty quick.

I stayed standing.

Luke looked at me for a moment. His brow furrowed.

“…You heard our conversation,” he said quietly.

I couldn’t keep my hands from balling into fists at my sides. “Yeah,” I said, my voice strained. “I heard. So…what? You just…what, thought you could go ahead and make that decision for her? For us?”

“I didn’t make a decision for anyone, Ben,” Luke said quietly. “Fannie chose what she chose. I may have guided her through her decision, but her choice was her own.”

I scoffed. “You guided her? Yeah, right. You guilted her into breaking it off. Because I’m not a Jedi. Well—guess what? She may have been your student, but you don’t control her life, Luke. And you sure as hell don’t control mine.”

Luke sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t control anyone’s life, Ben. But Fannie came to me because she was struggling—torn between her feelings for you, and her commitment to the Jedi path. She needed clarity.”

When I’d first walked in here, I’d had some idea of trying to keep myself in check. That idea was now rapidly slipping through my fingers.

“Oh, clarity,” I sneered. “Right. So, of course, the answer was to make her choose you over me.”

Luke frowned, a flicker of frustration crossing his otherwise calm expression—There it is! I thought to myself smugly—but it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. “That’s not what happened, Ben. Fannie chose her path because of who she is. Not because I told her to.”

“No, you just made sure to remind her what a bad idea I am. I get it,” I snapped. “I’ve always been the problem kid, right? For my parents, and for you—as little time as I spent visiting your stupid school. I’ve never been good enough for any of you.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Luke said, his voice softening. “This has nothing to do with who you are as a person, Ben. I care about you—”

“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it!” I interrupted. “You are literally my uncle. I would’ve thought you’d be backing me up. I get that Fannie’s like a daughter to you—all your students are like your kids—you’re protective. That’s fine. But she is not your student anymore. She’s an adult. And she doesn’t need you to tell her who she can or can’t date!”

“Ben,” Luke said. “Listen to me. I would love for you to find someone, someday, if that’s what you want. You know that I never did. But being with Fannie—someone dedicated to the Jedi way—well, it’s complicated. It puts both of you in positions that aren’t fair to either of you.”

“Right. Because it’s not fair to her to be with someone like me,” I muttered. “Because I’m not worthy of her. Look—I know I’m a little rough around the edges. I'll admit that. But I’m not a bad guy.”

“I agree. You’re not.” Luke shook his head. “Still, you’re twisting this into something it isn’t. I respect you, Ben. But your path is different. I didn’t push Fannie to make any decisions because of who you are—she made her choice because of who she is.”

My brain was buzzing as I stared him down. “Huh. You think you’re so above everything, don't you?” I hissed through gritted teeth. “That you’ve got all the answers just because you’re some Jedi Master. But this isn’t about the Force, Luke. This is about other people’s lives—our lives—my life—hers—and you think you get to sit there and decide what’s right for us?”

“Again: Fannie made the decision herself,” Luke replied, his voice still maddeningly even. “I hope you can give her enough credit to believe that. You can’t ignore the truth, Ben. The choices we make shape our futures. You and Fannie—your paths aren’t aligned.”

I wanted to give some kind of retort, but I was so angry I couldn’t think. My eyes drifted instead to the shelf behind his desk.

Amalia’s old lightsaber.

She’d given it back, the day she had left the school. I remembered the day she’d told me she was leaving. She had been wearing a dress—the only time I had ever seen her in a dress—and I had just left this very same office after meeting with Luke for Force counseling—and Amalia had been sitting outside.

Ben, she had said. I, uh…wanted to say goodbye. I’m done here.

You’re graduating? I had asked.

No, she said. Just…leaving. I can’t stay here any longer. I’ve never belonged here. I’m not like the others. I think there are things wrong with me that even the Jedi can’t solve.

And she had turned in her saber. Luke had kept it up on that shelf ever since, as some kind of memento, a reminder of his prodigal daughter. It had made me kind of sad, too, when Amalia left the school. I was never a Jedi, so it didn’t affect me in the same way it did my uncle, or Fannie—but even I had a hard time understanding why someone would abandon something they had put so many years of their life into.

But…maybe now I was beginning to get it.

Luke’s eyes followed mine to the lightsaber, his expression turning more guarded now. 

“Ben,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Listen to me. You are the one who is trying to control others. You are the one who cannot allow yourself to accept reality. It's natural to want to hold on. Natural for anyone. But Fannie has chosen her path. You need to decide if you’re ready to choose yours.”

I didn’t hear half of what he was saying anymore. My attention was locked on that saber, my hand twitching at my side.

Take it.

…What?

The voices—the ones I hadn’t heard for so long, but that I’d spent the past week trying to ignore—began to rise again.

Take it, Ben. Strike him down.

My ears were ringing. My palms were sweating. There was something deep in the pit of my stomach, fighting to get out—a scream, maybe—

—and then suddenly there was a violent roar inside my head—not my voice, but someone else’s—no, wait, maybe it was mine?—bellowing—

Skywalker is your enemy! Strike. Him. Down!

And before I knew what I was doing, I yelled and reached out—

—and Amalia’s saber flew from the shelf straight into my outstretched hand.

I froze, my heart pounding in my ears.

I stared at the hilt in my hand, my breath catching. I could feel it. The energy pulsing through me, through the saber, through the room. The power.

I felt all lightheaded. The last time I had managed to use the Force to—to make something move—it had been at Luke’s school, years ago. And then he had stopped me, because I had done it by channeling my anger. We will revisit this when you have learned to quiet your mind, Luke had told me—and then we’d never actually ended up getting that far.

Luke sat before me now. Didn't stand up. Didn’t even flinch.

I glanced up at him, expecting—something. Surprise, anger—anything. But he just watched me, his face calm, unmoved.

His lack of response only fueled the fire in me. How could he just…sit there? Wasn’t he afraid of me? I had just used the Force to call a weapon to my hand, years and years since the last time I had trained. What more was I capable of, I wondered…?

I gripped the hilt tighter, staring at him, waiting for him to react. The silence stretched on. The longer he sat there, the angrier I got. I could feel the heat building in my chest, the rage bubbling up, but he didn’t move, didn’t say a word. I wanted to scream, to break through that placid facade of his. The voices in my head urged me on, told me I had the power.

I thumbed the ignition switch—out of desperation, almost. Lunged forward. Swung as if to strike. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Or what I was trying to do. Or what would happen next. I just wanted something, anything to happen—I just wanted to make Luke do something—

But...nothing happened. The saber didn't ignite.

…Probably for the best, looking back.

I tripped over myself and stared at the hilt in my hand, dumbfounded, my fingers trembling, then glanced back at Luke, who looked almost...sad.

I licked my lips, wide-eyed, shaking. He couldn’t even give me the decency to look a little scared? Disturbed? Anything?

Luke cleared his throat.

 “There’s no crystal, Ben,” he said quietly. “Amalia removed it when she left.”

“…Oh,” I said, stupidly. “I mean…yeah. Figures.”

Suddenly…the anger that had been building up inside me had nowhere to go. The empty hilt felt heavy and useless in my hand—it was nothing without the kyber crystal to give it life. Just a hollow shell.

Like me.

I stared at it for a moment longer before my fingers loosened, and the hilt slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor. I stumbled a couple of steps back.

“…Well,” I muttered, my throat dry. “This is sure gonna make next Life Day super awkward.”

For the first time, Luke stood up. But he didn’t even look at me. He just picked the saber up off the ground, and placed it carefully back on its shelf.

[dominimoonbeam]

Domini!! Wa-hoo, I am vibrating with excitement at the prospect of sending in a request to you. Now, I'm sure you already know I'm going to ask for Milo/Sweetheart as the pairing, because, I am me. As for the prompts, I'm going to send you a few from each list and let you choose from the list, as many or as few as you feel fits with your ideas. Please feel free to adapt to your liking. Thank you thank you thank you for considering to take on my request, and no pressure to do so if you've got other ideas to chase. I'm excited to read whatever you chose to write! No matter what, have fun, my talented and kind friend!

[ WAIT ]: realizing the receiver is about to leave the room, the sender hastily reaches out and catches their wrist, preventing them from continuing their departure.

[ GAZE ] : sender watches receiver from across a crowded room.

[ WRAP ]: when sitting astride a horse/motorcycle/etc. together, the sender reaches back, takes the receiver’s wrists, and gently pulls their arms around the sender’s waist in an embrace designed to keep the receiver safe, despite feeling remarkably intimate.

[ GUIDE ] : in order to guide the receiver, sender presses a hand against the small of their back.

ROMI!!!!! Thank you so much for this ask!! I don't write nearly enough Milo/Sweetheart but they steal the show when I bring them into other fics!

I got all of these EXCEPT for [Wrap] and I'm now planning to turn my college au into a series and put that into it with Milo/Sweetheart and Milo's motorcycle... It's happening!!

Until then, here's the first fic. <3 <3 <3

Milo/Sweetheart. Early relationship moment.

He hadn’t expected to see them there, but maybe he should have.

The bar was a popular empowered hang out, and one that was known for a mix of clientele.

“What’s wrong?” Asher asked over the music, leaning onto his shoulder and casting his gaze through the crowd.

Milo tore his eyes off of Sweetheart, pivoting into Asher instead of away. “What?” He pretended not to know what he meant. “Did you lose the boss already?”

Asher’s eyes grew and he whirled around to catch David trying to walk back out now that a bunch of the pack were in the door, getting drinks and arguing about table location preferences. “No! Nonono! You have to stay for at least two drinks!” Asher was calling, laughing and grabbing David before he could escape. They had been out on a job and then gone to dinner before Asher spotted the bar and decided they needed a few beers before going home. He was on a rant about bonding and team building again, like they hadn’t all been a family longer than the company had existed.

But Asher wasn’t wrong, about trying to pull David along. He had gotten distant the last year since he became alpha. Asher was just doing what he could to get everyone back in sync.

The last thing they needed was Milo possibly dating a Department agent. He and Sweetheart had danced around the topic the few times it had come up, neither sure what sort of conflicts of interest they were flirting with by….well, by flirting with each other.

More than flirting. He’d helped them catch a shade and they’d patched him up and stayed the night. They were something but whether that something was friends that sometimes shared a bed or something else, he didn’t know.

Milo leaned against the bar, half in a conversation with Arden and David. His gaze strayed again. It was too easy to find Sweetheart in the crowd. The group they were sitting with were clearly Department. Sweetheart wore a tight smile, polite but not entirely interested while the others carried on and laughed. And then their gaze cut to him. He knew instantly that they’d already seen him, probably when the pack first walked in.

Their smile softened, reaching their eyes, and Milo felt like he might fly. He smiled back.

Their eyes narrowed at something someone at their table said, their attention swinging back to their group, smile gone. The group looked back at Milo. He sipped his beer and pretended not to be looking at the stealth across the room.

Unfortunately, David was looking right at him, eyebrow lifted.

Milo flushed and swallowed the beer in his mouth.

“You know them?” David asked, something unreadable in that question.

Milo almost lied. He could say he didn’t know them and try to make that true—try to convince himself that he really barely even did. But as soon as he considered it, he knew it was bullshit. He knew Sweetheart’s smile, he knew their laugh, the way they threw a punch, and what an absolutely rough healer they were. He knew how their hands felt on him, how they moaned, and how they kissed. He knew how smart they were, how quick their thoughts moved, and that they were a good person. “The Stealth, yeah.”

David sipped his beer and glanced at the table again and then back to Milo. “Department?”

Milo nodded but didn’t look.

David frowned, seeming to choose his words carefully.

Milo waited, shoulders pulling close. Was he going to tell him what a bad idea that was? How they didn’t need some Department agent in their business right now? David had already been dealing with so much this last year…

“You’re okay with that?” David asked.

Milo blinked.

He looked uncomfortable, the way David always did when he felt like he had to tread personal ground. “I know how you feel about your dad, Milo… His career was hard on you guys.”

Milo stared at him, surprised. He felt a pang of guilt that he’d thought David would be worried about anything else. “Yeah. I mean, it was hard, but this… I don’t know. It’s new. It might not be anything. But they’re…” He tried to find the right words and failed.

David nodded like he understood and took another swig of his beer. “You should probably catch them before they go then.”

“What?” Milo swung around in time to see Sweetheart cutting through the crowd toward the exit, alone.

He cast a quick look around, the table of Department employees had scattered, some having left and some moving on to the dance floor or to the bar for more drinks.

Milo pushed away from the bar and left his barely touched beer.

They moved so easily through a crowd, but they weren’t in a hurry and he intercepted them before the door, catching their wrist to stop them. The way their hand turned to link with his told him they knew it was him even before they turned around. The worry he’d had that he was overstepping, possibly putting them in a bad position with their colleagues, fell away when they looked at him. They looked surprised, in the best way, something bright in their eyes.

“Hey,” they said first, looking down at his hand and theirs.

“Hey,” Milo said back. “Is this okay?”

Sweetheart sighed, nodding. “I was going to ask you that.” They glanced past him to the pack at the bar. “I don’t want to cause problems for you…”

Milo smiled, lifting their hand in his to brush their knuckles against his lips. “I think you’re going to cause me plenty of problems, Sweetheart, but not like that.”

Sweetheart smirked, biting at their lip to try to hide it. He loved when they did that. “So, we’re a thing, Milo Greer?”

Milo almost laughed. No one had ever said his name like they did. “Yeah, we’re definitely a thing. If… If you’re okay with that?”

Sweetheart nodded, stepping up to close that small distance between them. They kissed him. It was chaste but it was public and that was a first. His heart fluttered in his chest and they were blushing when they stepped back.

Milo glanced back, more than a few of the pack watching them.

“Do you want to make a run for it, Sweetheart, or do you want to come meet some people?” he asked, hoping they heard in his voice that both options were absolutely okay by him. He’d go anywhere with them.

For the first time since he met them, he saw Sweetheart hesitate, looking past his shoulder at the pack like they were intimidating. It would be laughable after having seen them run headlong at a damn shade if it wasn’t making his knees weak. They put real consideration into this. Of course, he’d like them to put that level of thought into actual danger but, he could appreciate this too.

They swallowed and nodded. “Let’s meet some people.” They pushed their shoulders back and chin up, fearless as ever once decided.

Milo touched the small of their back, falling in at their side and gently guiding them forward. “No one’s going to give you trouble, and if they do, you can take ‘em,” he said low, close to their ear. It earned him a laugh and a grin. He kept his hand against their back when they reached the bar and the pack. He liked the way their heartbeat calmed down when his hand was there, the way they subtly leaned back into his touch, and the way they trusted him to guide them.

He was already determined never to let them regret that.

[the-unlucky-trevor]

HPMA childhood headcanons, wooo! (aka, what I think they were like as kids)

(cw for aba therapy/child abuse, heartbreaking content)

Elliott - In their days as Elodie, so from ages 0-10, they were a pretty quiet kid. They often kept to themselves and never really interacted with their peers, just mostly Alison. However, they became more prone to bouts of intense feelings as they hit puberty (about nine) and Alison's eventual death, and thinking more about what happened in the ABA clinic when they were 2-3.

Ivy - Ivy was a cheerful little girl. She was constantly full of smiles, very friendly, and overall an absolute dog of a girl. She barely has any memories from the ABA clinic because of her Nana *cough cough* so was never really affected by it.

Winnie - She was a very quiet kid, and prone to meltdowns. She didn’t like being around strangers or separated from those attached to her and was pretty fussy when she was a toddler. She also was a late trainer… (/uncomf) thanks to a teacher at the ABA clinic hitting her with a yardstick. F*CK YOU KAREN!!!

Daniel - To put it, Daniel was described as friendly, but not as friendly as Ivy. He constantly looked up to his siblings and was a mamma's boy. However, starting when he was six, (as in, after that fateful day) he was a crier, to put it mildly. He developed separation anxiety, not wanting to be apart from Esme for a long time, and his classmates and teachers found more excuses to bully him until he got expelled for lashing out.

Lottie - Sort-of a mix of Elliott's, Daniel's and Winnie's. She was quiet, kept to herself, was a daddy's girl, and a crier. Once she gets ahold of a crayon, she will scribble with it until one of her parents pick her up to do something (e.g, change her, clean her, etc.)

Robyn - She was a wild baby, to put it mildly. Even though she was born clubfooted, (which was shortly fixed) nothing could stop this ball of energy except for her mamma. Aside from that, she was also very affectionate. Heck, the first time she met Kevin, she kissed him! (they were too young to remember tho)

Kevin - He was very timid, very cautious, and a total mamma's boy. He'd get upset when his parents were away for longer than he expected, and did NOT like loud noises. He’d enjoyed reading tho ^^

Cassandra - Words can't even describe how much of an absolute nightmare she was. She threw tantrums, bullied classmates, but she was rich to make up for it /hj. She was a bit like Lilli when she was younger.

Frey Twins - Absolute nightmares. No comment.

hoo boy time to tag

[comicaurora]

Sorry if this is a weird question but how long did it take for you to start making art you felt was good enough, at least at the time? I have a lot of ideas for projects I want to make but I'm slowed down by not quite being at a level I'm happy with for professional endeavours. Wondering if I should quit while I'm ahead and just hire an artist I like.

Hoo. Good question.

It's hard to keep track of, honestly. I think every artist is going to feel a degree of "this could be better" about anything they make, and if that's all you're keeping track of it can feel like no progress is being made - but in hindsight, I think "this could be better" means a lot of different things, and what it means for my work has changed over time.

One of my earliest art-related memories is having a very clear image in my head of a pencil sketch I wanted to make (a family portrait of some wizards, a mom and dad flanking a young daughter) and then being immensely frustrated that what I produced was a pale, inexpert shadow of that image. The starting point I was at was "this doesn't look right and I don't know why," and I stayed there for a long time, even as I got overall better.

The first time I remember trying and failing to emulate a specific cartoon style, it was the manga Steam Detectives - I'd mostly been exposed to newspaper comics and scientific illustration, so I had never seen that sharp-angled straight-lined manga style before. There was a liveliness to it I couldn't capture, and that frustrated me. At this point I could see what was wrong, but couldn't yet correct it - my unconfident pencil sketching wasn't going to produce the same kind of three-dimensionality and flow as the brush strokes used in the, in the same way that a traced figure can look strangely odd and off-balance because it's only mimicking the outlines. At this point I'd hit "this doesn't look right and I know why, but I'm not sure how to fix it."

At that point, practice was kind of the only solution - unconfident linework can only be improved by honing the muscle memory and confidence of the artist, which I didn't know at the time or do on purpose but ended up happening anyway, especially once I got going on the channel and was regularly doing dozens to hundreds of drawings per project.

I do remember the first time I thought "oh, that's actually better than I expected" - I had broken my clavicle and my right arm was in a sling, and my art teacher encouraged me to try drawing something with my left instead. I am very much not ambidextrous and my lines were spidery and shaky, but when I stepped back at the end, the thing I'd tried to sketch - a portrait of a regal-looking elf man - actually wasn't too bad. The muscle memory in my right hand was completely absent from my left, but apparently my basic understanding of shapes and shadows had come through and made something that got across the gist of what I wanted. That was the first time I felt "this doesn't look right, but I already knew that, and what it does do is actually pretty solid."

At some point in the process of cranking out channel illustrations, and later chibi character commissions, without even noticing I hit a baseline level of confidence in what I was doing. Certain things got easier because I was doing them a lot more. I stopped thinking about whether a facial expression was communicating exactly what I wanted it to, stopped spending long stretches of time trying to refine poses - because in those specific areas I was no longer experiencing "this doesn't look right and I don't know why." I'd draw a face, realize it could look angrier, redraw the eyes and brows to be angrier, then move on. I'd block out a pose, decide the leg didn't look right, redraw it, line it and move on. It wasn't that I was nailing everything first try, it's that I'd had enough time and practice to quickly diagnose what wasn't working and quickly try something else to correct it.

Instead, I was thinking "this doesn't look right and I don't know why" about other things. Trees, buildings, figure shading, fire, water, metal textures. I still didn't feel ready to do the comic in earnest, but I'd started doing digital illustrations of the characters and mock-up pages/covers, and I kept finding problems in the composition. It didn't look right and I didn't know why. If I didn't know why, I couldn't fix it. A lot of that process boiled down to redrawing stuff until it managed to look right, then trying to reverse-engineer what had worked about that. I'd accidentally draw the most perfect torso and try to figure out what magic combination of lines had made that work. And again, it was a slow process, almost unnoticeable from my perspective, because I just gradually stopped worrying so much about unsolvable artistic problems because the solutions had just arisen with practice and experience. The background looks wack - it's probably under-shaded, darken some corners to make it match the foreground. This texture looks off - probably needs some particle effects to help give it detail. Etc etc.

At present, I very rarely think "this doesn't look right and I don't know why." I still have moments of "this doesn't look right" - almost constantly, probably - but they aren't noteworthy because I've had enough practice improvising solutions that it turns into a brief experimental phase before I fix whatever was bugging me and move on. It doesn't mean it's perfect, it just means whatever problems or places it could be improved are either subjective choices that are fine either way, or small mistakes I don't notice at the time. The process of error-correction and bug-fixing becomes quick and painless enough that I hardly think about how I used to spend ages agonizing over something that was wrong that I couldn't make look right.

The point I eventually got to could probably be best described as "I could make this better if I wanted - do I want to do that?"

Making a comic like this, it's very important for me to consider the value of pouring too much into any one page. If I vastly overdesign anything, I'm going to need to keep up that level of design every time it shows up. If I drew every forest shot by hand-drawing every single tree I'd never get anything done. If something looks off and I know the solution would be more detailing and more texturing, sometimes I'll do that - filigree and particles and all that good sauce - but sometimes I'll just try a few things until I find a shortcut that makes it look fine to my eyes. Art can always be more polished, so that's not really a metric for completeness or ready-ness - I really do think the most helpful metric is whether you're regularly struggling because you can see something is wrong but you can't figure out what. If you consistently know what's wrong - or, more accurately and less judgmentally, what could be polished if you wanted to polish it - you're probably in a pretty good spot.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I have more thoughts about Chalice of the Gods

When I was getting through the first hundred pages or so I was a little :/ prob because I’m getting back into the books over a decade later and I had Expectations that I didn’t have as a kid. You could have thrown anything at me and I would have been DELIGHTED just to hear more of Percy’s story. I think the nostalgia factor was actually kind of a negative for me because I kept getting mad at the modern references and how low the stakes seemed to be. I did see a post about how it was good that Rick kept the books at whatever time he wrote them (in terms of references) because it’s literally just like the olympians growing and modernizing. You can’t stay stuck in the past. And I think keeping that perspective in mind will make rereads a lot more fun.

The low stakes seemed to bother me just because we’re so used to seeing Percy in horrible world ending situations and we just got out of HOO. But he really did deserve a break and it was helpful with developing his characterization

I didn’t expect the books to make me feel so emotional! I’ve been out of the horrifying college admissions process for a while now. But the questions he was wrestling with were very universal. At this point he’s accepted that the gods are what they are. There’s not much he can do to change them. He has to focus on himself and his future. And I am a little disappointed that his goals all seem to be around Annabeth. Like I love them but also he’s going to new Rome JUST for her it seems. But also when I was in high school I decided to go to college because that’s what Everyone Does right. I didn’t know trade school was an option. Feeling a little bit like ur life is on a set path and your choices are controlled by other people a bit was at least part of my high school experience. But also from a story perspective it does make sense that he wants to stick with Annabeth! They’ve been through a ridiculous amount together.

Sally having a kid and the emotions that it brought up was also a good way to show that transitional period between leaving home and starting a new life. Your parents are going to move on and do their own thing and their lives won’t revolve around you anymore. Also in general the whole Paul/sally/percy/annabeth dynamic was fucking amazing. The way Paul and sally accepted Annabeth into their lives and how happy they all are is what she fucking deserves!!

I think the end is what really got me. Some of it felt really silly and I did absolutely roll my eyes when Percy told the god he loved him and hugged him. But also him ACCEPTING that he would likely get old was so cathartic. This is a boy who was supposed to die at 16. And barely escaped death again after having his memories wiped and falling into fucking Tartarus. Hes never gotten a break and hes said, in multiple books, that he expects to die very young. This is the first time he says ‘wait I might survive this. I might get old and if I do it’ll be by Annabeth and Grover’s side.’ Percy fucking Jackson who has been the subject of COUNTLESS prophecies, who is reminded time and time again that he isn’t supposed to exist, even by people that he loves, (that was a lil mean of u in the intro Poseidon) CHOOSES to accept that he might get old. Like of course this boy doesn’t have much of a plan for his life yet other than ?? Follow Annabeth?? When has he gotten a chance to think about it!

This is something I did project upon a bit because I didn’t except to live to 18! Or 20! Or 22! And it’s only now at 24 that I’m starting to Accept that I might be here a little longer than I expected and now I have to Plan Accordingly. Like I have to learn these stupid life skills and figure out what I Want from my life now. And unlike Percy, I’m a little angry about it lol because I never expected to have this problem!! But, I too, am slowly accepting that time on earth is a gift or whatever. At the very least I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future so I might as well use it to learn who I am. I GUESS. In my life, Death has always been this ever-present choice I could take if things got a little too tough and I don’t know if that door will ever fully close but I have been dragged away from it kicking and screaming so. Might as well stick around. I’m still a little bitter about it honestly but I’ll get over it. I have to learn how to COOK guys. How fucked up is that. To care about the mundane all of a sudden??

Anyways. I doubt that’s the metaphor Rick was going for, it was probably more of a ‘your childhood ends! You’re gonna get older and that’s a good thing’ instead of a ‘one day you might not have killed yourself and you’ll realize that you’re actually stuck living this life and you gotta learn to fucking deal with it.’

Ok I could go on for hours so this is the last thing. Percy’s conversation with Poseidon, about how small waves are the ones that matter the most, REALLY resonated with me. Like I think I teared up at two parts of this book, the old age part and the conversation with between them at the end. It’s really easy to convince yourself that the way you alter your life is through Sweeping All-Consuming Change where you move to a different continent and begin anew. Unfortunately, through bitter experience, I’ve learned that’s not how things fucking work. Changing your surroundings does lead to new experiences but it doesn’t make ur problems go away! I moved halfway across the state and got what I genuinely believe is the best job on earth and I. Still have the same issues?? And then I thought ok maybe I was wrong this Wasn’t the best job I just need to find one that’s Better but that’s. Not how things work.

This is getting away from me but basically what I’m trying to say is u can make grand changes and it might fix u for a little while but unfortunately you have to put in the work and do the stupid boring mundane things like go on walks and journal and exercise and do things that scare the fuck out of u to actually change and grow and it’s so goddamn annoying. I should be able to become a different person just by being somewhere else but I can’t.

Wait I’m supposed to be relating this to Percy Jackson. So Percy can go on these life altering world defining quests right. And make all the right choices. But who he is at his core is defined by the choices that he makes when the stakes aren’t that high. When it would be So Easy to walk away from Ganymede and go live his life. And I know some people didn’t like that Poseidon was like ‘this is when I knew you were a hero’ of fucking COURSE he knows Percy has been this hero his whole life. But he’s also this person when there isn’t some prophecy, when he doesn’t have to be, when it’s just a mild inconvenience. It’s easy to talk about changing the world. It’s harder to go out there and take those little baby steps that don’t feel like they matter all that much. He has actually changed the world and just not talked about it but hopefully u get what I’m saying. I just liked that thing about small waves being able to sweep you off your feet when you didn’t expect it ok!! Most change is incremental!!

Ok that’s it. Loved Chalice, will probably enjoy it more on a reread and it resonated with me in ways I didn’t expect.

[andromedaexists]

WUPDATE: Desecrate

𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟷𝟶𝚝𝚑 || 𝟼 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜!

HI HELLO GOOD NEWS BABIES MY LAPTOP IS FIXED!!!!

After the chaos that was last week, the fact that I not only got my laptop fixed (with no data missing!!) but also reached 20k in revisions on Desecrate???? Magic.

Now that everything is back in balance, I will be returning to Incorrect Eyes. I just needed to stick with my baby boy Kit while I lost my mind lmao. Kit Beloved has such a tender start to his story that I honestly don't want to leave it, but that's okay! I'll be back!!

We're about 1/4 of the way through this trash draft rewrite, meaning I'm expecting it to be ~80k words. That is 10k longer than Call Me Icarus, and it will only get longer when I truly draft it!! Desecrate is going to be a chonker!!

I will also have another post coming out today, a 6 month update on the release of ΔΆΙΟΣ (the first book in the Call Me Icarus series). It has been 6 months to the day since release, and hoo boy have there been updates!!

OH AND ONE MORE THING I HAVE AN OFFICIAL DAY FOR DESECRATE'S COVER REVEAL!!! Come say hi on 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟿𝚝𝚑, otherwise known as the feast of Ascension in the Catholic Church. This year, we're celebrating the Ascension of Christian Amadeus Michaels, the beautiful main character of Desecrate!

Anyways, snippes for yous!

Kit parks the truck in his driveway, turning it off but not getting out. Benny doesn’t get out for a moment either, but when it’s clear that neither of them are going to say anything she opens the door and steps out into the crisp night air. Kit’s eyes track her movement, watching as she crosses through the beam of his headlights and as she leaves his peripherals. He expects her to go inside, to leave him wallowing by himself, but he’s shocked out of his thoughts when his door swings open. Benny pulls him towards her, her arms wrapping tight around his head and holding him to her chest as she whispers, “Don’t go where I can’t follow you.”

And another one:

They fall into a comfortable routine as they enter the home, Kit throws his backpack on the couch before heading to his room to change and Benny starts putzing around the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything until he hears a loud clatter. Throwing on his oversized cutoff, he rushes out into the kitchen to find Benny standing in the center of the room with a handful of metal mixing bowls strewn around her. Kit busts out laughing, having to stabilize himself on the counter from the force of the laughter. Benny’s pouting where she stands, a beautiful red blush dusting her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “I was trying—it’s not that funny—Kit~—I was just trying to get some bowls out, you didn’t tell me you booby trapped this place,” she pouts, bending down to pick up the scattered bowls. When Benny turns her back to him to set the bowls down on the counter, Kit walks up and wraps his arms around her waist. He buries his head in her hair and sways her side to side as she giggles before using the momentum to swing her to the other edge of the kitchen. She kicks her legs out in front of her as he swings her around, her giggles growing louder. When her feet touch the ground again, she turns in Kit’s hold and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “It’s really hard for me to make dinner from over here, silly cat.” “Well then it’s a good thing you’re not making dinner, huh?”

And another for good measure:

Pushing those thoughts out of his head, Kit rolls Benny off of him and sits up. He throws his legs over the edge of the bed and stretches his arms above his head, yawning as he pops the soreness from his back. The bed behind him shifts as Benny sidles up to his back, her legs framing his on the edge of the bed and her arms sliding around his waist. Her lips are warm against the nape of his neck, Kit thinks he could stay right here for the rest of his life and never want to leave.

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[breakingbadranting]

In defense of Skyler White.

Skyler :3

Skyler White, the wife of Walter White from breaking bad. Skyler is one of the most, if not the most hated character in all of Breaking Bad, for what? Sure, she's not perfect but we have a cast of non-perfect and other characters that deserve venom way more than Skyler does.

I've seen people argue that she is simply annoying, she wasn't able to keep her mouth shut about her husband's meth business that put her whole family in danger, or that she didn't love Walter. I've got no idea how people defend Walter so easily, but can't defend Skyler. Walter is by far, much worse than Skyler. Say all you want, he is. She is unfairly judged and not judged by the same standards her husband is. Walter cooks meth, has killed people, helps in killing people, and just so much more. And what about Skyler? Oh, she wasn't initially supportive of her husband being a criminal, boo-hoo-hoo.

Skyler is expected by Walter and the audience to just go with what her husband wants or deems "necessary" by her husband. Good ol' ball and chain. At the episode Skyler found out about her husband's drug involvement was season 3, episode 1, No Más. At this point in the series Skyler and Walter had a newborn daughter, Holly. Skyler had argued with Walter where Skyler had to go through her whole process of finding out what Walter had done and he expected her to simply accept "But I did all for my family."

Walter had put Skyler through a lot of emotional turmoil up until the point she confronted him about being in the drug business. She was stressed as hell and it was unfair. Walter would disappear, lie, and lie again even when Skyler knew he was lying. She was pregnant with their second child for crying out loud. She had every damn right to not want to be with Walter anymore. She had a realistic reaction to the situation, people were just mad she didn't let Walter walk all over her.

Skyler is a woman of strong morals. Good ones. She is family-orientated and doesn't like when people go against the rules, like any good citizen. This is shown when in season 1 when her sister, Marie, was shoplifting. Skyler confronts her about it and tries to get her to return the stuff Marie stole. Back to Skyler being really stressed around this time, she handled the situation terribly. On another hand, it was realistic and Skyler didn't know or understand the underlying issue with Marie's stealing. Neither sister was right in this situation.

Skyler does have flaws, as any good character does. She DOES tend to confront people in bad ways. She'll rage at people with not a lot of proper evidence.

Ok. Ted needs to be brought up eventually. Was this a good thing she did? No. She wanted a divorce with Walter because, y'know, he was making meth. Walter was refusing. So, in a desperate attempt to get the man she didn't trust anymore and no longer felt like she knew, out of her house with their newborn baby; she cheated on him. She knew Ted was into her, she wasn't into him but she wanted Walter to accept the divorce. She only slept with Ted to show that she was no longer in love with Walter and didn't wanna be his wife. It wasn't even technically cheating considering they were in the middle of a divorce.

In conclusion, she's not the worst, annoying, tyrant that people make her out to be. She's just a flawed human in a cast full of others way worse than her.