#. i could have made this sad. i really could have.

[solarpunkpolliwog]

This was a really lovely read!!! Similar to Green Corridors, I also am a big fan of Greenways- I didn't realize I already knew what they were until I looked into them, but they are essentially the conversion of strips of city to help biodiversity conservation, improve city heat islands (as mentioned in the article), and improve the human experience of living in urban landscapes in a BIG way.

There are a number of historical precedents of people planning cities around nature and people, and the effects make a huge difference. The first time I came face to face with a world designed around those things, I was lucky and privileged enough to join an exchange program to Japan for 2 weeks. I lived with my exchange sibling and their family in Japan, and I got to travel around a lot because of it. The things you see in anime do largely apply to many areas of Tokyo- the city feels a lot more human centric. It's kind of stupidly easy to travel even far distances without a car. The train system is well designed and very punctual and frequent, which allows for a lot more flexibility with travel, and the shinkansen makes it so you can travel far distances so fast it's amazing!

And the cities are so easy to walk through- there's lots of nature, so many little back streets and shortcuts and architecture that feels like they were built for desire paths, and it made for a really fun time exploring and walking and even just finding places to sit and relax as if it was miles from the city in some cases.

Now there's plenty that's not perfect- I did struggle with accessibility in terms of frequent seating areas with chronic pain in really bustling city centers, and the panic of some of the highest density and pushy crowds in areas of the city like Shibuya and Harajuku were pretty bad for my overstimulation issues. But it gives us a glimpse at what amazing city designs could do if we built for preserving nature, and giving a good quality of life experience to anyone who engages with the city.

Back in the U.S. it was kind of startling how terribly our cities are built on the whole compared to this. I've been able to find a couple pockets, towns, and cities that do a pretty good job of these things, but the majority of places that I have ever visited in the United States are extremely inaccessible to things other than cars. Nature suffers, people suffer, and even businesses suffer in some cases.

But work is being done to improve things here though! I found The Rose Kennedy Greenway Park while making a stop on my Amtrak trip 2 years ago, and that was a lovely little highlight. I wanted to take a little wander before my next train, and I went to go on a journey to get some coffee and a mochi doughnut before I headed out, and passed through the Greenway on my walk. It's not like you could pretend you weren't in the city, but the Greenway used to be a TERRIBLE central artery running through Boston that was converted since they were dealing with so many traffic issues.

But now, converted into this park, it was a lovely little experience for me! There were a lot of local flora, little buggies (I heard that there are areas that even have full meadows and beehives for pollinator insects) and people were just sitting and relaxing, and I saw a lot of people walking in that area compared to other areas of the city that I've seen that are just not human friendly to be around.

My little city of Worcester is another sad example of what happens what you let cars and capitalism drive the design of our world. Black top buildings sprawl inefficiently and the city center is dead. Business fronts have been empty for years from driven up rental prices that landlords sit on hoping for a renaissance of big businesses to pay those prices, and no one walks because you would have to walk for ridiculously long times without shade, open businesses to wander into, trash cans, seating, and even sidewalk in some places before you can arrive.

Investing in good city design makes the world so much more beautiful, and I dream of a day where we more intensely invest in living in urban areas and making the experience human and nature-focused so that we can protect wider areas of untouched nature, be closer together, and pool our resources to support all of us no matter what our needs are <3

"With “green corridors” that mimic the natural forest, the Colombian city is driving down temperatures — and could become five degrees cooler over the next few decades.

In the face of a rapidly heating planet, the City of Eternal Spring — nicknamed so thanks to its year-round temperate climate — has found a way to keep its cool.

Previously, Medellín had undergone years of rapid urban expansion, which led to a severe urban heat island effect — raising temperatures in the city to significantly higher than in the surrounding suburban and rural areas. Roads and other concrete infrastructure absorb and maintain the sun’s heat for much longer than green infrastructure.

“Medellín grew at the expense of green spaces and vegetation,” says Pilar Vargas, a forest engineer working for City Hall. “We built and built and built. There wasn’t a lot of thought about the impact on the climate. It became obvious that had to change.”

Efforts began in 2016 under Medellín’s then mayor, Federico Gutiérrez (who, after completing one term in 2019, was re-elected at the end of 2023). The city launched a new approach to its urban development — one that focused on people and plants.

The $16.3 million initiative led to the creation of 30 Green Corridors along the city’s roads and waterways, improving or producing more than 70 hectares of green space, which includes 20 kilometers of shaded routes with cycle lanes and pedestrian paths.

These plant and tree-filled spaces — which connect all sorts of green areas such as the curb strips, squares, parks, vertical gardens, sidewalks, and even some of the seven hills that surround the city — produce fresh, cooling air in the face of urban heat. The corridors are also designed to mimic a natural forest with levels of low, medium and high plants, including native and tropical plants, bamboo grasses and palm trees.

Heat-trapping infrastructure like metro stations and bridges has also been greened as part of the project and government buildings have been adorned with green roofs and vertical gardens to beat the heat. The first of those was installed at Medellín’s City Hall, where nearly 100,000 plants and 12 species span the 1,810 square meter surface.

“It’s like urban acupuncture,” says Paula Zapata, advisor for Medellín at C40 Cities, a global network of about 100 of the world’s leading mayors. “The city is making these small interventions that together act to make a big impact.”

At the launch of the project, 120,000 individual plants and 12,500 trees were added to roads and parks across the city. By 2021, the figure had reached 2.5 million plants and 880,000 trees. Each has been carefully chosen to maximize their impact.

“The technical team thought a lot about the species used. They selected endemic ones that have a functional use,” explains Zapata.

The 72 species of plants and trees selected provide food for wildlife, help biodiversity to spread and fight air pollution. A study, for example, identified Mangifera indica as the best among six plant species found in Medellín at absorbing PM2.5 pollution — particulate matter that can cause asthma, bronchitis and heart disease — and surviving in polluted areas due to its “biochemical and biological mechanisms.”

And the urban planting continues to this day.

The groundwork is carried out by 150 citizen-gardeners like Pineda, who come from disadvantaged and minority backgrounds, with the support of 15 specialized forest engineers. Pineda is now the leader of a team of seven other gardeners who attend to corridors all across the city, shifting depending on the current priorities...

“I’m completely in favor of the corridors,” says [Victoria Perez, another citizen-gardener], who grew up in a poor suburb in the city of 2.5 million people. “It really improves the quality of life here.”

Wilmar Jesus, a 48-year-old Afro-Colombian farmer on his first day of the job, is pleased about the project’s possibilities for his own future. “I want to learn more and become better,” he says. “This gives me the opportunity to advance myself.”

The project’s wider impacts are like a breath of fresh air. Medellín’s temperatures fell by 2°C in the first three years of the program, and officials expect a further decrease of 4 to 5C over the next few decades, even taking into account climate change. In turn, City Hall says this will minimize the need for energy-intensive air conditioning...

In addition, the project has had a significant impact on air pollution. Between 2016 and 2019, the level of PM2.5 fell significantly, and in turn the city’s morbidity rate from acute respiratory infections decreased from 159.8 to 95.3 per 1,000 people [Note: That means the city's rate of people getting sick with lung/throat/respiratory infections.]

There’s also been a 34.6 percent rise in cycling in the city, likely due to the new bike paths built for the project, and biodiversity studies show that wildlife is coming back — one sample of five Green Corridors identified 30 different species of butterfly.

Other cities are already taking note. Bogotá and Barranquilla have adopted similar plans, among other Colombian cities, and last year São Paulo, Brazil, the largest city in South America, began expanding its corridors after launching them in 2022.

“For sure, Green Corridors could work in many other places,” says Zapata."

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, March 4, 2024

[its-avalon-08]

I don't know if you're taking requests, but can you do something where the reader and Lando broke up after they had a stupid fight about where readerfeels they haven't spent any time together so lando tells her to leave in a fit of rage. (One Lando regrets and is very sad. Sad boy.) And a few weeks later reader gets into a accident and the hospital calls him because he's next of kin when they were dating and when he gets there he's freaked and the doctors surprises him by saying the baby's fine, but reader tells lando that he has to be there for them both thats why she didn't tell him because she didn't want her baby to feel second best. Happy ending, though, please. I'm sorry if that's long.

never enough (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, break up

The tension in the room was suffocating, every word between them cutting deeper than the last. Y/N stood near the dining table, her arms crossed, her face a mixture of frustration and heartbreak. Lando sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair.

“You don’t even try anymore, Lando!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she spoke, but her words were sharp. “I can’t remember the last time you actually looked at me like I mattered to you. Do you even care?”

His head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare say that, Y/N. Don’t you dare act like I don’t care. I’m doing my best here!”

“Your best?” she scoffed, her tone bitter. “Your best is spending every waking moment either at the track, with the team, or in your own world. You’re never here. Not really.”

Lando stood abruptly, the movement startling. “I’m sorry that I have a career that demands everything from me! What do you want me to do? Quit? Give it all up just to sit here and hold your hand?”

“That’s not what I’m asking for, and you know it!” Y/N fired back, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “I’m asking for you to make time for me. For us. But I’m always the one waiting, always the one begging for scraps of your attention. I can’t keep doing this, Lando. I feel like I’m not even a priority anymore!”

His fists clenched at his sides, his voice rising as frustration overtook him. “And I feel like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you! I’m stretched thin, Y/N! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

“I want you to act like you actually love me!” she shouted, tears now streaming down her face. “Like I’m more than just someone waiting for you at home!”

“Fine!” he yelled, his voice thunderous in the quiet room. “If I’m so terrible—if being with me is such a burden—then maybe you should just leave!”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Y/N froze, staring at him as if he had just struck her. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Leave,” Lando said again, though his voice was quieter now, the anger giving way to something more hollow. “If this isn’t enough for you, then just...go.”

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She shook her head, her voice trembling. “You don’t mean that.”

“Maybe I do,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed the regret already forming in his chest.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she grabbed her bag from the chair, slinging it over her shoulder. “You’ll regret this,” she said quietly, her voice breaking on the last word.

He didn’t respond, his silence cutting deeper than any argument could have.

And when the door slammed shut behind her, the emptiness it left behind was deafening.

-- time skip --

It had been weeks since Y/N left, and the emptiness in Lando’s flat mirrored the hollow ache in his chest. The regret weighed heavily on him, an unrelenting reminder of what he had lost. He tried to focus on racing, to bury himself in work, but it only made the silence louder.

Every room held memories of her—the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, the mug she always used sitting untouched on the kitchen counter. He stared at it now, running his thumb over the rim, a pang of guilt twisting his stomach.

"I’m sorry," he whispered to the empty room, though he knew it was far too late.

His phone buzzed on the counter, jolting him from his thoughts. The screen lit up with an unknown number. Frowning, he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Norris?" a calm but urgent voice asked.

"Yes, this is Lando Norris," he replied, his chest tightening with unease.

"This is St. Thomas’ Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been in an accident."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "What? An accident? Is she okay?" His voice cracked as panic surged through him.

"She’s stable, but you need to come down to the hospital immediately."

Lando didn’t think twice. Grabbing his keys, he bolted out the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, every possible worst-case scenario playing in his mind.

At the Hospital

He burst through the hospital doors, scanning for the reception desk. "Y/N Y/L/N," he said breathlessly. "She was in an accident. Where is she?"

The nurse directed him to a room, and he practically sprinted down the hall. When he reached her room, he froze in the doorway.

Y/N was lying in the hospital bed, her face pale and a bandage on her forehead. But she was awake, her eyes widening when they landed on him.

"Lando?" she asked, her voice faint.

"I’m here," he said, stepping inside. His voice trembled as he approached her. "God, Y/N, are you okay? They told me about the accident—"

"I’m fine," she interrupted gently, though her voice was tired. "Just a few bruises and stitches."

Before he could respond, a doctor walked in, holding a clipboard.

"Ah, Mr. Norris, I’m glad you’re here," the doctor said with a kind smile.

"Is she okay? What happened?" Lando asked, his panic bubbling to the surface again.

"She’s stable, and the baby is fine as well," the doctor replied casually.

Lando blinked, the words not registering at first. "The baby?"

Y/N closed her eyes, exhaling deeply.

The doctor, sensing the tension, quickly excused herself.

Lando stared at Y/N, his mind racing. "You’re pregnant?"

"Yes," she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the blanket covering her legs.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked, his voice breaking.

She finally looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "Because I couldn’t do this alone with you half in and half out of our lives, Lando. I needed to know you’d be there. Not just physically, but really there. For me and for this baby. I didn’t want my child to feel like a second choice."

"Second choice?" he repeated, his voice filled with anguish. "Y/N, I’ve made so many mistakes, but loving you was never one of them. I was stupid, I was selfish, and I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to balance everything. But this? This is everything. You and our baby are everything."

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she listened to his words. "Lando, I can’t do this if I’m going to be fighting for your attention. Our child deserves better than that."

He moved closer, kneeling by her bed and taking her hand in his. "You won’t have to fight anymore, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be there for you and for our baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. Just—just don’t shut me out."

Her lip trembled as she stared into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. "I need you to mean that, Lando. Not just for me, but for them."

"I do," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the tears pooling in his eyes. "I’ll be there for both of you, every step of the way."

After a long pause, she nodded, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. "Okay. But you get one chance, Lando. Don’t waste it."

"I won’t," he vowed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

For the first time in weeks, a sense of hope filled the room. It wasn’t going to be easy, but together, they could make it work.

time skip

Months later, Lando stood in a nursery he had painted himself, his hand resting on Y/N’s bump as they admired the crib he’d built.

"You really went all out, didn’t you?" she teased, smiling up at him.

"Nothing but the best for our baby," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Y/N smiled softly, her heart full as she rested her head against his shoulder. Maybe they had started rocky, but in this moment, she knew they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[o-wild-west-wind]

While I’m still a bit bummed that they didn’t go with a more book-aligned POC Fiyero for the Wicked movie, I’ve been thinking (heheh) about how his being white highlights the really interesting foil relationship between him and Glinda (and, in many ways, the audience yourself).

At its core, Wicked is a cautionary tale about propaganda, (literal) scapegoating, and what it means to uphold the status quo. The audience is watching through Glinda’s eyes—it is through her, arguably the most beautifully tragic character of the show, that we learn how lonely life becomes when you forfeit your values in favor of systemic power and likability (“No One Mourns the Wicked” is, in many ways, about HER).

Now, this is where Fiyero’s whiteness can get interesting—if you consider him and Glinda to share roughly equal footing at the beginning in terms of privilege/how much they have to lose (applying our real-world lens of race and power here, where whiteness is the apex), his storyline essentially represents what could have happened if Glinda had made the brave (and arguably wise and loving, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down 👀) choice to go with Elphaba and fight the good fight (this is also why I feel like a queer reading of G&E’s relationship is almost implicit to the story, but I digress).

As the POC/marginalized allegory, Elphaba has much less of a real choice in her curtain-pulled-back turning point. But Fiyero and Glinda—both representing privilege—get to choose. So in Act II, we see the consequences of both the choice to stay (Glinda) and to go (Fiyero). In Fiyero’s case, his ultimate rejection of his own power, privilege, and even beauty leads to immense physical loss—including his own body—but that is then compared to the loss of love, community, and identity that we see Glinda left with by the end. And this brings us to the question that the audience is left grappling with: in an unjust system where loss is inevitable (a.k.a. our own world, as the Wizard himself represents), which of these things are YOU more willing to give up?

It’s important that Glinda is an empathetic character because, in reality, most people are going to be Glindas (obvi this is nuanced among us Elphabas of marginalized identities, but I’d still argue that there’s some level of Glinda in us all)—and it’s important to be rattled by the end of the show when you realize that she is the one who has the sad ending. But it’s also so important that Fiyero is empathetic (which I’m SO glad this movie leaned into)—because he’s ultimately who Glinda—and thus we, as the audience—should have been.

And especially given the state of US politics right now…this is just all more relevant than ever.

[akanemnon]

I totally get not wanting to do the geno run, I remember wanting to start the run, killed a single monster, and deleted the save.

A friend was mean to me for giving up on it.

This was back when the game was just a few months old, and we were 14-16 years old.

It's just... like you said. I don't want to hurt the pixilated people. Makes me feel sad. And because I was maybe 15 years old, and very sensitive, made me feel extreme empathy for these characters.

I'm really sorry your friend was mean to you because you didn't want to go throught with the genocide route. These characters are written with so much love and care, that it is no wonder that you would get attached to them and wouldn't want to hurt them. I literally feel the same way.

I have no way to confirm this, but I have heard that back in the day people used to be really mean when people didn't play Undertale the "correct" way. That kinda sounds like one of these cases.

There is nothing wrong with not wanting to do the genocide route. There is also nothing wrong with going through with it. Undertale is a game and it gives you the option to approach it in any way you like. It also reacts to the way you do it.

In the end it all boils down to what you get the most out of in the game. For some people it's the characters, for others it's the fights, and then there are those who want to scour every single thing this game has to offer. Undertale has something for everyone.

I am more than content with only doing the pacifist route and never touching the game again after that. Yes, these characters are just a bunch of lines code and pixels, but in my mind, they're quite happy with the life I could help give them on that Switch cartridge.

[letorip]

helping tara through an asthma attack?

nothing’s gonna hurt you baby

“as long as you’re with me, you’ll be just fine”

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: after tara’s date ghosts her at a party and tara forgets her inhaler, you help her through her asthma, and in the process reveal how much you really care for each other

warnings: angst at first but quickly turns to fluff, mentions of asthma, small medical crisis, confessions and kissing, for the most part, fluff

word count: 2.8k

A/N: a very adorable and small oneshot i got to write! thank you for the request, it was greatly appreciated and im sorry i only got to finish it now! i cut down a lot for time's sake but i did get it done, so sorry iff it's shorter, i left more irrelevant bits out

*also, i am english and know little to nothing about new york, but i did my best

===+++===

===+++===

She wasn’t doing a thing that you could see except sitting there on the stairs, leaning on the bannister, holding the universe together.

Parties were many things, but you had never considered them beautiful. Tara Carpenter was what made them beautiful. Grabbing you tightly by the hand and tugging you onto the dance floor despite your protests, brushing the hair from your clammy forehead when you had too much to drink, and, even now, frowning at the bottom of the staircase. That was beautiful. It was so beautiful that calling it a crush didn’t feel like enough.

She doesn’t see you until you clear your throat from the other end of the foyer, leaning on the doorframe. It’s almost empty, most people squeezing into the kitchen and living room on the other side of the house, and you can hear Jump Around muffled through the walls.

“Looking for me?” she asks, a grin forming. It’s infectious, but Tara’s an infectious person: anything she does, she makes you want to do it too.

You smile back. “Always,” you nod, shoving your hands into your pockets and crossing the room to set yourself down next to her. Neither of you say anything for a minute, watching the few people go by, Tara picking at her nail polish and fiddling with her cup.

"Is this (Y/n)-code for wanting to leave?” Tara says after a while, nudging you gently with her knee. You shrug. You’d do the right thing always when it came to Tara. No matter how much fun you had been having, her frown came first, and you’d be damned if you didn’t try to lift it. Staying at the party longer would only keep reminding her how she had been let down again.

“It is getting kind of late," you murmur. She scoffs, shifting away from the railing and resting her head on your shoulder, nuzzling herself into your neck.

"It's only 12.” You can feel the vibrations of her voice against your body, warm and human. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you leave while the party’s still young?”

“A kind one,” you snort. “I’ve got a bed calling my name.”

She hums, pretending to think on it for a second, and then nods. “Five more minutes.”

You say okay and sit back in silence, letting the background music wash over you both. The clinking of bottles and laughter from the other room is loud, but mostly, you can hear her breathing against you, slow.

Tara lifts her head from your shoulder, taking a sip of her drink. “I think he’s a no-show,” she mutters after another minute, staring down into her cup and biting her lip.

“Yeah,” you nod, giving her a sad smile and bumping her with your shoulder. “What an asshole.”

It lifts her a little bit for a momentary smile that flickers in your direction, but it falls away again. “He was a really nice asshole. Something about me ‘deserving more’ and seeing ‘the real’ me.”

You hum at the sincere line said before by all too many insincere people. Tara was always the real her, and it was part of what made her so… her. Even her attempts to hide her wounds only made them more visible. To suggest otherwise was to mean he hadn’t known her very well. “It was the guy from the karaoke bar, right?” you ask.

She nods, eyes looking a little misty. You remember him well— reeking of alcohol and jostling her shoulder harshly while they sang Copacabana off key and miraculously off beat. You hadn't liked him much then, though you never did when it came to who Tara had moved onto. You hated him now, for almost making her cry.

"I guess someone told him about the attacks," she mumbled. "He said he didn't 'want to be next.' Funny part is I don't either."

"He's just a knob," you say, shaking your head. Then, you remember a particularly special piece of information you had been holding onto for the few weeks she had been talking to him. You lean into her ear, smirking as you whisper. "Though from what I heard, he didn't have a particularly large one."

It finally manages to pull a giggle from her, and she smacks you on the leg with a brilliant smile, the one that always makes your heart beat a bit faster. "What a perverted thing to say," she chides, rolling her eyes, but she still so clearly finds it funny.

"Coming from you, that's super rich," you tease. "Your imagination's gonna get you a passport to hell one day."

She smacks you on the arm again. "Come on, we should get you home, you've clearly had too much."

"So all I've got to do to convince you it's time to leave is make dirty jokes?" you grin as she stands, turning to you with an outstretched hand. You take it, letting her pull you up from the staircase.

"Nope," she replies, popping the p. "I just think it's nice out tonight."

"Yeah right," you say, walking towards the mountain of coats, grabbing her pink puffer one from the pile and then your own heavy jacket. "It's cold as hell."

"To you, you big baby," Tara teases, ditching her cup on the nearby mantle. She still zips herself all the way up, shoving her hands into her pockets, until she looks down. "Shit."

You furrow your eyebrows, turning around from zipping up your own. "What?"

"My shoe's untied," she groans. "And I already zipped this damn thing up." You roll your eyes. She could easily unzip it and do it herself, but you know she doesn't want to.

"Just ask already, slick."

She's beaming at you again and you suck in a breath at the way her brown eyes always seem to twinkle, even in dim lights. "Tie it for me?" When you don't move, she clasps her hands together mockingly. "Please?"

"And we have a winner," you grin, bending down. She's wearing her beaten-up white Converse, and you tie it quickly, double-knotting the old, weathered laces. "Y'know, for the holidays, I'm getting you a new damn pair, these things have definitely seen better days—" you stop in your tracks when you look up. Tara's eyes are watching you with an odd expression you can't place, in a way you've never seen her look at you before. "What?" you ask.

As quickly as it flashes, Tara shoves it away, shaking her head. "Nothing, nothing." She herself seems surprised, blinking a few times as you stand back up. "We should go."

"Okay," you shrug, shoving your hands into the pockets of your pants. Tara leads the way out through the propped-open front door, right out into the cold. Tara lets out a cough, out into the air, and it turns to a condensation cloud in the cold.

New York is already icy, gearing up for winter, and the trees have shed their leaves to become small, barren branches. The house party wasn't that far from your flat or Tara's, which was part of why Sam was so okay with the both of you going. The only person more protective of Tara than you was Sam.

"So, how'd you find that out about him?" Tara asks, coughing, taking your arm in hers. She always said you were freakishly warm to the touch, but right now, it was probably a plus.

"I told you we have class together, right?"

Tara nods, her breath a little wheezy. "Yeah?"

"I talked to this girl, Ada, in that class, and she said it was true. I didn't ask how she knew, though, but she really laid into him for being an asshole."

"Hm," she hums. "And you didn't say anything about it?" You know she's teasing, but you shake your head.

"You seemed excited about him, and you can make your own choices. Plus, I didn't know if you'd really care, to be honest." She doesn't say anything back, but that weird look is back on her face, so you avert your own eyes, feeling a burning on your cheeks.

"Thanks," she whispers. "You always trust me more than Sam does."

The both of you walk about another block before Tara speaks again. "I'm hungry," she says, coughing into her hand.

"I've got food at mine?" you suggest, the cold night air tickling at the roof of your mouth as you speak. The tips of your ears are freezing, as is the back of your neck, and you shiver after a particularly harsh gust of wind. It's unforgiving, in that way, and the wind barrels down the tall streets, chilling people throughout the winter. Tara coughs again and you shoot her a look.

"This cold air is really messing me up," she says with an eye roll. "I'll be okay, let's just get home." You send her another wary glance but turn your attention back to the city. You and her pass a few high rises with people in the warm windows.

"Must be nice to be indoors right now," you grin. Tara smirks right back at you.

"Maybe we should've just stayed in and watched some movies."

You roll your eyes. "Oh, now who wants to take my suggestion?"

"Yeah, well, now I've got the bath calling for me," she says, unlinking your arms to adjust her jacket. "That and Love Is a Losing Game and the block button."

"Poor baby," you tease. "Must be nice having a bathtub."

"It is," she nods, still fiddling with the zipper and pulling it down a little. "I can have all the wine and bubble baths I want." She's still coughing, struggling through her words.

"Greedy," you laugh, walking on ahead. You get only a few steps before you notice Tara isn't following you.

"Hey, what—" When you turn around, you can see her eyes wide, and she wanders towards the curb, plopping herself down on the freezing pavement and clutching at her throat.

"Shit," you rush, quickly coming over and kneeling down in between her knees as she continues to cough. "Shit, shit, shit." Her eyes are wild as she struggles to breathe, and she grabs your hand tight, squeezing it sharp with her nails. "Tara, what's happening? Is this an attack?"

She only manages a small nod, coughing awfully and trying but failing to take in a wheezy breath. You swallow the lump in your throat, looking around for someone, anyone, but the street is deserted. "Where's your inhaler? Where is it?"

Tara's nails dig into the skin of your hand in between her coughing, drawing small crescent moons of blood. Her other hand goes to her jacket, lifting up the bulge over her chest that is her interior pocket. You nod, trying to unzip it, but for some reason, it's not coming down.

Her eyes are full of fear and the brimming of tears as she struggles to breathe, and you mess with the zipper, trying to pull it down in the cold. "God fucking dammit, it won't—" you try to explain, yanking on the damn thing, which continues not to budge. Her own fingers reach up to try and get at the zipper, but you beat her to it, harshly ripping it open.

Her medicine bag falls right out, and you open it, dumping everything out onto the pavement and picking up her small blue inhaler. She sends you that weird look again as you shake it for a few seconds, handing it over. She takes a wheezy breath out and places the inhaler over her lips as she shuts her eyes, breathing in as deep as she can. You wait nervously as she holds it in her mouth, before finally letting out a much easier exhale.

Tears are pricking the corner of her eyes, and you raise a soft hand to gently brush them away with the pad of your thumb as relief washes over you. She's breathing and she's okay, and that's all you really care about.

Tara's hand finally drops its grip on yours, and though your hand is stinging in the places she drew blood, you pay it no mind. You turn your attention to her medicine bag, picking up the bottle and bandaids you dumped out as she waits and takes another puff. You don't say anything, just silently start picking up her things and putting them away, zipping up the bag.

When it's in order, you give her a gentle smile and put the bag back into her jacket, plopping yourself down next to her as you wait for her to let you know she's okay. After another puff and about another minute, her breath is slowed, and the fast beating of your heart begins to slow as well.

===+++===

Tara doesn't say much, staring out onto the street in total silence as she takes deep breaths in and out. You watch her with a worried expression, tensing every time she lets out a cough, but it's quickly pushed away as her lungs relax. Even after twenty minutes go by, you both remain there, sitting in silence, your eyes never leaving her face, except for the occasional passing car.

After long enough, she scoots a bit closer to you, letting her own eyes find yours. "That was scary," she whispers.

"Yeah," you nod. "Sorry about... well, your jacket. I think I might've broken the zipper. Guess I'll have to get you that for the holidays too—"

She raises her hand, brushing some hair back from your forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment and then brushing themselves down your cheek. You freeze at the touch of her cold hands but do not pull away, feeling her trace your jaw and then lower, her hand stopping against you just below your collarbone, right above your heart. She's so close you can hear her breathing, feel her warmth and how it fans out across your cheeks.

"Tara—" you breathe, but before you can finish the sentence, which wouldn't have been particularly coherent anyway, she gently presses her lips against yours. It's soft and gentle, her lips slotting against your own in a perfect match. Before you can even process the divine sensation or try to give anything in return, she's pulling away, squeezing her eyes shut and apologising.

"Sorry, sorry, I must've gotten it wrong, I just, well...," she starts. Your mind is reeling at a thousand thoughts a second. "It's just that you're always there for me when no one else is, and I guess I—"

But this time, you're the one to cut her off. You lean forward, not even caring what else she has to say, instead kissing her back hard. She groans into it, her hands cupping your cheeks, holding you against her. It's magical, she's magical, and all those moments of wishing it was you she was kissing are gone because you are the one she's kissing.

Your hands slip around her waist, holding her against you as your lips move together in sync, the breeze gently moving against your skin. "I love you," she says against you, pulling you back in. It's softer than your hungry attack, but you cherish it more, letting her pull away and rest her forehead against yours. Once more, the cold is tickling at the newfound warmth you feel.

She pulls away from your lips but not from you. "I think I thought love was supposed to be this grand, tight battle. It's what my life was, some big battle. But not you. You're as easy and helpful as breathing. I love it about you that you love everyone else, too," she whispers. She reaches up placing a kiss upon your forehead. "Get it?" she laughs. "Breathing?"

"Too soon," you scoff, shaking your head. "I've loved you a long time, Tara," you reply, feeling your cheeks flush. "Through the assholes and the cowards and the people who wanted me. I've loved you. It might be chronic, I think I always will." You're so damn warm it's antithetical to the freezing chill that attempts to throw itself at you and Tara, only to be batted off by your hands upon each other.

She lets out a soft smile, putting her head back on your shoulder, only this time, it's your other one. "Maybe I should almost die more often if it means I get to have you."

You shake your head, leaning it against hers. "That's not funny," you scoff, and she rolls her eyes at you, gently prodding you in the side. "Besides," you smile. "You can have me any time now, you dork."

"That sounds nice," she hums against you. "But I still want pizza."

"Do you want to come back to mine? I think I have one in the freezer."

"Hm," she murmurs, then nuzzles deeper. "Five more minutes."

As easy as breathing, together.

===+++===

really struggled with the ending speech but i kind of liked not really having one? it's just kind of understood. no nice-guy 'it was me all along' or 'i'm sorry i didn't notice you sooner.'

[dollyhao]

princess!reader who has a close relationship with her personal knight abby anderson (smut, pining, tension, making out, cunnilingus)

word count: 2.4k

two years ago, your father decided that a woman guard would be whats best for you and it was the best decision he could have made. ser abigail anderson follows you everywhere, everywhere you go, she's only a step behind you, watching over you like a hawk. but there are some people in the castle that have some concerns, like how she stands so close to you, how her hand lingers on your lower back, or how she insists that she can protect you better at night from inside your bedroom.

but your father is quick to deny any concerns or accusations that people come to him with. who are they to accuse you of such a sinful act? what’s a better way to stop these insane rumors? an arranged marriage.

your father, the king, decides to bombard you with a bunch of men in the throne room, ready to take your hand in marriage. abby stands behind you as men walk up to you telling you how beautiful you are, and how these men would spoil you and give you so so many babies. abby is not only unimpressed but she’s disgusted. she looks over at your father who’s nodding approvingly at the men.

you look annoyed, finally saying, “that’s enough for today.” you say after the 7th man, you stand bowing towards your father before saying, “thank you father. this has been very insightful.” and you storm off. abby follows you to your room and as soon as you two enter, you're on her.

you push her against the door, standing on your tippy toes to kiss her deeply before she pulls away. “wait,” she says as you fumble with her stupid armor trying to get it off. “what’s wrong?” you ask still fumbling with the armor. “you don’t wanna talk about the whole marriage thing?” she asks you, helping you take off her armor. “no not really.” you say kissing her neck.

“well i do.” she says pushing you away gently. abby takes off her armor by herself, watching as you walk over to your bed and flopping down on it. “what is there to talk about? i’m not getting married.” abby sighs and rubs her fingers over her forehead, “we both know you don’t have a say in that.” abby stands in front of you in her tight trousers and long sleeve shirt that’s tight around her biceps. “so what do you want me to do abs?” you look truly sad at both of your predicaments, "what if- what if we ran away together?"

abby eyes shoot to yours, looking to see if your serious or not, “are you serious?” she leans a hand on the post at the end of your bed, “yes, im serious. how could i possibly get married to someone that's not you?” abby looks away from you, not even entertaining the idea, “princess...” she trails off and you stand walking over and grabbing her face so she can see the sincerity in your face. “we could be happy together, just the two of us.” you push her to sit on the bed while you stand in between her legs, "we could change our names, live on a farm, adopt some children, we could be together!"

"that's too risky, 'the princess and her knight going missing', people will be looking for us." your face goes sad and your eyes misty, "just think about it please... it doesn't have to be now, ok?" abby nods with a soft, sad smile on her face.

abby never expected to be placed as your personal guard when she signed up for the kingsguard and she definitely never expected to fall for you. when she was first assigned to you she was disappointed because how exciting could following a princess around be? and she was right, the job was unexciting. just following a princess—with no understanding of the outside word— around her large castle. thats all she seen for a while until you started to talk to her, rambling on and on about whatever came to your mind even when she wouldn't respond to you.

you were kind, funny and way smarter than anyone in the castle gave you credit for. when she finally started to respond to you, you asked her all types of questions about her life and you actually listened; interested in the stories she told you. and she found herself dreaming about you at night, imagining how life would be if you were hers.

it didn’t take long before you started laughing at her jokes and openly flirting with her; telling her how pretty she was, asking if she had a husband... or wife, trying to have her hang out in your quarters. she thought you were playing at first, that you were bored and lonely, and she didn't find it funny at all.

it was mean to play with her emotions like that, to have her believe that you of all people; beautiful, caring, sweet, darling you would be interested in her. so she put walls up between you two; she started walking behind you, not responding to your ramblings, not laughing at your silly jokes or the cute faces you make at her and she could see the confusion written all over your face and something her deluded mind perceives as hurt.

this went on for a week until one night while standing outside your door while you got ready for bed she heard crying coming from behind the door. abby turns to knock with a look of concern etched on her face, "princess? is everything alright?" when she gets no answer just sniffles and the sound of something breaking she bursts in completely on alert. when she does a quick look of the room and sees no threat just you in your sleep gown, standing next to a broken vase with tears streaming down your face. she closes the door and approaches you carefully like you're a scared cat that's gonna run any second.

"are you alright?" she asks as she reaches for your hand to pull you away from the glass. "am i alright?! how could i be when your being so mean?" you angrily snatching away from her. "i-i dont know what you mean princess." abby stutters at your sudden and blunt wording. "im sure you don't, ser abigail, you've just been treating me like-like shit for the last couple of days, for no reason!" you storm away from her with abby hot on your heel, "your highness! i-ive just been doing my job!"

"why wont you talk to me anymore?! have i offended you so badly you choose to act like im just some job? after all the progress we were making?" you wrap your arms around yourself, looking away from her, "i thought you liked me." with the moonlight streaming into your dark room, illuminating your figure, abby thinks you are the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. quick to reassure you and to get the hurt look off your pretty face, she quickly tells you, "i do! i like you in a way that is not at all proper for someone of my stature."

your hands fall away from your body and you're in front of her in a few long strides, "abigail, if you like me, i command you to tell me so because my heart can't handle thinking that i have wronged you to the point of hatred." you grab her hands holding them to your chest as you stare at her with wet eyes. "the only one that is wronged here is you, your highness." she says lowly, "im the one who has been having improper thoughts of you. thoughts that you cant possibly reciprocate."

abby doesn't meet your eyes but she sees your hand reach up and cup her face, "oh abby. ive never felt this way about anyone before." you mumble as you start to close the distance between the two of you. and abby closes the space and your lips are pressed to hers and they are softer than she could've imagined in her most vivid dream.

her gloved hands are on your waist as her body backs you up and presses you against your bed post. your noses are bumping against each others as you try to get her closer but her armor is in the way. you let out a frustrated whine and abby is quick to pull it off. she pulls away and your both panting, eyes locked on each other as she pulls her armor off and gloves. you stare at her swollen lips and the fly away hairs coming out of her braid.

when she finally has it off, her lips are back on yours but now you can feel her warm body press against yours. her hands roam your body squeezing and grasping at everything. you moan when her hand squeezes your breast and her thumb presses on your nipple. your hands are untucking her shirt from her pants so that your hands can trail over the hard plain of her stomach. abby shudders at your cold hands and her hips shoot forward bumping into yours and your hips chase hers as they pull back away.

"i wanna see you," abby whispers against your lips, "can i?" her hands settle on the strings holding up your gown, waiting for your confirmation. "yes-" you begin to respond before a knock at your door surprises the both of you and abby shoots away from you.

"ser abigail, are you in there?" said the voice of another knight that abigail knows because he takes on the night shift of standing watch outside of your room, while she rests. you and abigail eyes meet with scared but exhilarated expressions. she shakes her head, putting her finger to her lip and grabbing her stuff to hide it from view when you go answer the door. the knight knocks again and you hurry over fixing your gown and running a hand down your face before opening the door.

you crack the door and stick your head out, "no, ser abigail left only moments ago. she told me she was going to go get you so she could get some rest." the man averts his eyes from your form while your in your sleepwear. "oh. i must have beat her to it."

"yes, how diligent. um can you find a servant to bring me some water? my mouth is very dry." the man nods instantly and goes to find someone. you close the door again and whisper-yell for abby to come to the door. you see her come into the moonlight with her armor back on. "you have to go before he gets back!" abigail nods, placing a hand on the door turning to place a lingering kiss on your lips. you grab the sides of her head holding her against you and her other hand moves to grab at your waist.

"no, we can't! you have to go." you say pulling away only for abby to press a kiss to your cheek. you giggle pushing at her shoulders, "go!" and then she's out the door and rushing to her own quarters. you press your back against your door, breathing heavy while, waiting for the knock of the knight who hands you the water and you place it down before flopping on your bed. you lay remembering the way abby touched you and fall asleep dreaming of her.

and ever since that night, you two have been glued at the hips; secret make out sessions, notes being passed between you two, late night meet ups in your quarters. it was fun for the past year until this whole marriage thing. now your relationship is at risk and you want to risk running away together.

a week later, abigail follows you to the library in the far corner of the castle, where no one goes. once you enter the empty room your talking with a look of determination on your face. "i have it all planned out abs." you pull out papers you were hiding in your dress and place them on the table. "we can run away and i dont think my father will make a big deal about it! i mean im the youngest, and he has so many kids it wont be a big deal right? and we'll go far, i mean no one knows what i look like, i almost never leave the castle."

you gaze up at her with bright hopeful eyes. "you really wanna run away together?" you stand up straight, walking to stand in front of her, "yes," you place a kiss on her lips. "your willing to give up all the gowns and jewelry, to live with me on a farm?" she chuckles at the absurdness of it all. you frown at her laughing at you, "yes, if it means we can be together, im willing to give it all up."

abby cups your face with both hands, eyes roaming over your face and she sees all the love you've been giving her written all over it. she crashes her lips against yours, licking and biting at your lips. your breathing gets heavy as abby kisses and bites at your jaw, "abigail..." your hands are in her hair as she nips at your collar bone before getting on her knees.

she looks up at you pulling your dress up as your hands brace against the table behind you. abby's face is flushed as she lifts your leg and licks the juices dripping down your inner thigh to your pussy. you shudder at the feeling of her tongue licking at your cunt. you put one hand on her head as abby slurps at your cunt. "ohmygosh~" you jaw drops as you pant and tremble. "run away with me, run away with me please." you huff out as abby's hands grip your ass, spreading you so she can get deeper.

you moan and whine as abby's hot breath fans over your clenching hole. your hips buck into her face holding her hand thats holding firm on your thigh, "marry me, run away and marry me!" abby speeds up her actions when she feels you ready to explode. you cream on her tongue when you finish before pulling your dress back up over her head.

abby stays on her knees as she catches her breath gazing up at you like you put the moon in the sky. you both stare at each other as you catch your breaths. abby's face breaks out into a wide smile, "lets run away and get married." you beam at her.

and they lived happily ever after. thee end!

[oriorchids]

@anxiousapplepie 's roleswap au is really cool so!!

made some special attack cut-ins! one for each character/role (funnily enough three are from traveller!odile's universe)

some more thoughts under a read more

siffrin (researcher)

- first one i did

- he has stars in their eyes!! though one is much easier to see than the other

- remember that one idea about sif using their prosthetic to blind people? i think his special friendquest attack would be smth similar. light blast that stuns an opponent for a turn like that one sasasaap sadness

- if everyone else is stunned he doesn't have to worry about being the slowest in the party. or getting hit when they aren't in their shell/cloak.

- i spent a good while just trying to figure out their expression

- astronomy name? light pun name? flash of genius?? supernova?

mirabelle (fighter)

- mira is about to kill a man, or maybe a strong sadness. good for her

- i spent a while just trying to figure out how to pose her

- i think she'd either get a giant paper-type attack (to make up for a lack of paper a V) or a really big self-buff. maybe a giant paper attack that gives her an attack buff afterwards

- isabeau in canon has a lot of support moves but considering mira's party (housemaiden siffrin traveller bonnie) i think she should be more of a dps. researcher!isa can still be a support

- oh or!!! maybe she heals herself/the party some of the damage she deals.

isabeau (chef)

- may or may not have referenced the sasasaap true ending a bit

- i think the cut-in would appear whenever he runs in to take some damage for someone else

- after friendquests he might be able to counterattack? probably for more damage than bonnie could

- there would probably also be a change for when isabeau's hp is low

- somehow his cut-in ended up the smallest

- imagine if you will: cook!isabeau running in the way of the king trying to grab housemaiden!bonnie during the kingquest end

odile (traveller)

- JUST ATTACK BABYYYYY

- massive paper type move that gives no jackpot points. king will die instantly

- grabbed the way she holds her book in the jackpot

- took the longest to draw her hands i had to take a picture reference

- journal has a blank cover

bonnie (housemaiden)

- i thought it would be funny for bonnie to run across the screen every time instead of getting a formal cut-in but i did consider the formal cut-in briefly

- i think bonnie's special friendquest skill would be a really good revive all/heal all because of memory of promise in canon

- also there is no way bonnie isn't getting stressed from being a kid on a pretty much doomed mission (without the loops)

- wonder how many times bonnie's heard pity from people. including the party!! this child is the saviour of vaugarde

- at least if they work hard enough no one else will get hurt!!!

[xcal1bur25]

And honestly, when a work of art that has a more or less anti-right wing message gets an audience that seemingly "misses the point", and that work of art has a follow up that tries REALLY HARD to make that not happen...it usually fucking sucks. Sure. You may be able to successfully alienate the audience you don't want. You will also make your work garbage, because you committed the cardinal sin of writing. You wrote for the audience. Good art is not made for the audience. Fuck the audience. Making art for the audience creates soulless, passionless, made-by-committee, castrated-by-focus-group, schlock that is completely devoid of value, and that's true whether or not you like the audience, or you hate them.

Like, okay. When people bitch about a work being "too political", and they aren't full of shit, THIS is what they're picking up on. But the problem is NOT that the work has a political opinion, but that it CARES what the political opinions of its audience are. Maybe it thinks that the audience agrees with it, so it will do a thing where it will turn to the audience and go "and now is the point where you clap at how based I am". It's appealing to its assumption of its audience's politics, and saying things it thinks they agree with, because it's easier to get them to cheer about something they care about in real life than it is to make them care enough about the story to cheer on its own merits. That, and it's good for marketing. Example: Everything in the MCU that has to do with Captain Marvel. Endgame literally could have had a better feminist message by removing her entirely and focusing more on Nebula and Gamora's relationship and how Thanos pit them against each other. Alternatively, it's the situation above, and it's being written for an audience that it believes DISAGREES with it. It also probably thinks that audience is stupid for not realizing that, AND IT MAY BE RIGHT, but it then proceeds to make it's point in the most blunt and artless way possible. Example: The Boys Season 4. I agree with basically every political stance it makes, but watching it make them is the definition of cringeworthy. Good art is made FOR THE ARTIST. Good art comes when creators make something that THEY think is great. They don't try to make art that the audience wants, or doesn't want, or is intended to lecture the audience, they simply make the art that THEY want to see in the world. And by no means does this mean that good art can't be political! The statement that all art is political still rings true, and the best art is extremely political! But good political art comes from the fact that politics are often an important part of someone's worldview and experiences, and when someone writes art that they care deeply about, those political beliefs come through. However, instead of coming through in a way that's preachy, or cringe, or cheesy, or desperate, or forced, or blunt, they come through in ways that are thoughtful, or contemplative, or passionate, or angry, or sad, or hopeful.

So just forget the audience, and make the art.

i dont think fight club was co-opted by the right because they didnt get the satire, it was co-opted because it fuckign kicks ass. they would have co-opted any movie that is that good and has hot sweaty men in it. right wingers aren't aliens, they know a good movie when they see it, the lesson isn't "don't make satire because the wrong people might think its for them" the lesson would be "don't make art that kicks ass" and i'd rather there be art that kicks ass

[cherryspider19]

the child and doll chapter 1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear diary, I love my mom. she made me such a pretty doll. i shall call her isha. yes isha is a fitting name. moms not around alot so this doll will be her back up. isha tells me what to where, eat, and the proper time to go to bed. like mama. even though moms not around alot she loves me very much. she hugs me when im sad and checks under my bed and in my closet for monsters. i think shes the best mother in the world. but... she was taken from me. now i only have isha. when the police came. a officer named jim gordon told me. "bruce wayne is your father" i couldnt believe. i was so happy maybe dad would love me just as much as mom. love, {name} ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear diary, when i came to the home of my father. i expected me and isha to be welcomed be dad. but he left us with the butler, the butler was very kind though his name is alfred. he is very cool. isha tells me when she looks at dad, she feels no love or happiness that we were here. i dont want to believe her. but isha is always right. i really dont want her to be right this time. i have my own room now. i use to have to share with mom. ------- i miss mommy, this is the first night sleeping with out her. the rooms dark and scary at night. theirs no one to check for monsters, when i asked dad, he gave me a look, and told me to go to bed. alfred offered to check for me but dad said i was a big girl/boy, i need to be brave. isha tells me dad is right but coulda worded it better. im going to go to bed now. love, [name] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ dear diary, i have brothers!! im so happy. the first one i meet was dick. he was so nice. then theirs jason. he's also really cool. hes not scared to go to bed alone at all. i wish i was like that.... Any way i asked dick and jason if they wanted to play. they said they were busy and they couldnt but they'd play with me next time. i told them that was ok and i could wait. i love my brothers. dads ignoring me though. i asked isha how to get his attention but she doesnt know how. love, [name] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ diary, jason's gone... gone like mommy. dick and dad their not taken it well, its been a week. but i got a new brother now. his names tim and he's really smart. i ask him to play but he's busy. isha say's he'll probably never have time for me. i told her that was mean. but i fear she is telling the truth. like always. their ignoring me more now. except for alfred. he never ignores me. i think he's more of a parent then bruce. love, [name]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

diary.

i have more siblings now. but they ignore me most of the time except damian. jasons back i got him sneaking through the window in the kitchen. sometimes he disappears and reappears like a ghost but the others dont treat him like one. bruce is happy he's back. i dont think jason likes tim. bruce and him argue about him alot. isha says not to worry and to mostly focus on school and getting good grades. ill listen to isha cause she is always right. always is. love, [name] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i hate them. i hate HIM. i hate damian. he hurts me. he says mean things to me all the time, and forces his mean animals to chase after me. to hunt me down. i try to talk to bruce about it but he doesnt listen. i try tell dick but he says to get over it cause damians learning, i try to tell jason but he is never here. i dont even try with tim, he never listens. damiain i want to hit him. but isha tells me not too. she so kind about her even when he broke her. isha my mommy isha. she's broke... Damian broke her. i hit him and he stabbed me. thats fine, he hurt isha, no one hurts isha. bruce. BRUCE. he ground me threatened to take isha away. i begged him not too. alfred, dad stepped in. i still got isha taken away but she's with alfred now. from, [name] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ im taking isha and leaving this house. i cant stand it her anymore. i told dad, he's sad but he accepts it. bruce i dont think he'll notice im gone. good cause i never want to see his face again. goodbye diary. [name]

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

This au was created with the combined forces of the amazing and awesomely talented group of @griffonskies, @hufflehobbitmakes, @lorienrobins, and myself (and they're all super cool people and you should all check out their blogs!) in an absolutely hilarious conversation, so I had to flesh this idea out. Enjoy!

This is a post-canon AU, where Merlin is still living by the Lake of Avalon in modern times, awaiting Arthur's return. While the world has changed immensely in the time since Arthur's reign, there were a few things that have stayed the same. And one of the things that had stayed constant throughout the last 1500 years were the druids and their worship of Emrys.

As Merlin's powers grew following Camlann, he found that he could hear the prayers that the druids directed at him, and he could answer them to the best of his ability with his magic while staying at the shores of Avalon. Besides, the druids knew better than to seek him out in person unless there was an absolute emergency.

Now, fast forwards to the 21st century, and there's modern druids worshipping Merlin as Emrys, and they pray to him and leave offerings, and he still sometimes answers their prayers. While the most popular offerings to Emrys are physical offerings, such as wooden carvings and food, their songs and dances praising him work as offerings as well.

However, one day, some Gen Z druids get an idea. Their religion isn't very well known, how about they spread more awareness of it online? And what better way to reach a wide audience than to share one of their dances praising Emrys on TikTok!

And of course, their dances for Emrys blows up online and go viral. The consequences of this, besides the rising interest in their religion, is that Merlin has accidentally gained millions of new worshippers, who have performed the dance without really knowing what it means.

Suddenly, with millions of people performing dances in honor of him online, Merlin is more powerful than ever before, much to his own confusion, since he's just chilling in a cabin next to the lake and doesn't really spend much time online.

However, one day, Arthur's reincarnation does the new dance trend at reincarnated Morgana's insistence. Merlin immediately senses his king performing one of the dances made to worship Emrys and teleports to Arthur's location, scaring the shit out of him. Now Arthur's stuck with a maybe-a-god-but-honesty-kinda-hot guy in his flat who keeps calling him "sire" and telling him to go to some lake so he can pick up a sword. It's a very confusing day for poor Arthur!

Bonus: some quotes from Gen Z druids in this au explaining their religion online: "Yeah, we can talk directly to our god, but he doesn't always respond because he's kinda busy being sad next to a magical lake."

"No, we swear he isn't a cult leader looking for a tax break!"

"If you catch him in a good mood he might do a pub crawl with you! That happened to my cousin once!"

"Yeah, I heard he turned water into beer on that pub crawl! Wild night."

[fallenclan]

Would you like to explain more what is behind those reactions in the latest comic? I mean those panels with Littleleaf ect. What are they feeling and why?

(Love the expressions btw)

sure :)

-Kestrelfeather (61 moons, he/him) He's happy for Wolfbite! That's his best friend and he was probably let in on a lot of the information that Wolf got regarding Ravenstar's murderings, so he's not only happy that Wolfbite succeeded her mission, but also that Ravenstar is toast lol

-Ospreyswipe (113 moons, he/him) Very similar reasons as Kestrel, he's Feathersight's mate and he knew most of what was going on, so he's happy that Ravenstar isn't leader anymore and he's also happy that Feathersight finally completed the mission he'd been on for years

-Myrtleclaw (112 moons, any pronouns) & Juniperfoot (113 moons, she/they) Myrtle and Juniper were Sandsnap's mates. Not only are they filled with a mix of grief and joy at seeing Sandsnap's murder avenged, they're also feeling a lot of emotion seeing their daughter, Wolfbite, be the Big Hero. They probably weren't let in on what was happening, but they're relieved she's okay nevertheless.

-Littleleaf (83 moons, he/him) His brother, whom he dearly loved, who was only ever loving and kind to him, just died. How do you think he's feeling?

-Darkstone (38 moons, he/they) Overjoyed. Darkstone has always had a bit of a mean/slightly bloodthirsty streak, so while most of the cats watching this have an undercurrent of "oh shit that guy just died horribly", he's just kind of laughing about it. If he could hold pompoms he'd be doing a little dance about it

-Honeysong (53 moons, she/her) She's in pain and exhausted but she's also very happy that Ravenstar isn't leader anymore. She's also a pacifist and somewhat disturbed by Ravenstar's gory death, so she's hiding her face in Darkstone's fur as well as using him as physical support.

-Feathersight (112 moons, he/she/they) Relief. He's known something was wrong since Ravenstar became a warrior and he's carried the burden of Poppyfeather, Cherrystar, & Sandsnap's murders with him for so long, knowing that he's been one of the main forces bringing Ravenstar down has made him more stress-free than he's been since he was a young cat. He will be breaking down in tears later that night.

-Flamefall (72 moons, he/him) Shock. Awe. Grief. Ravenstar was his friend for longer than he was his enemy, so there's a definite feeling of sadness within him at seeing that cat die, but he was afraid of Ravenstar for a long, long time, and seeing that cat be taken down is. Really something. He's felt irredeemable for many moons, and knowing that this wouldn't have happened without him is bringing a new light into his life.

-Mistlefrost (107 moons, he/him) & Inkynose (40 moons, she/her) Mistlefrost and Inkynose were two cats who were punished for speaking up about Ravenstar's actions. They both have a little bit of a vengeful streak, so they're reveling in seeing a cat who made them suffer suffer. They're also both extremely loyal to Fallenclan, so they're overjoyed to see the world realign itself.

-Patchback (105 moons, she/her) Patchback was one of Ravenstar's most loyal followers. She was kicked out of her old clan for being too cruel, so when she joined Fallenclan she kept it all on the down-low. Then comes Ravenstar, a cat with the same ideals as her who praises her for her strength. Her ability to put her clanmates in their place. Now that cat is gone. She's grieving and furious.

-Levi (109 moons, he/him) Levi is a cat that follows power wherever it goes, and he just watched his chance at leadership get thrown out of the window. He was loyal to Ravenstar, sure, because that was his best option of getting to where he wanted to be. He saw Ravenstar die, adjusted, made an attempt, and realized very quickly that without Ravenstar to back him up, he wasn't much of anything.

-Sleepydawn (74 moons, he/they) Sleepydawn was resistant to Ravenstar's loyalty at first, but a little manipulation brought him right around. Before he knew it, he was doing whatever Ravenstar told him, desperate for the validation and ignoring his family as they tried to pull him away. Ravenstar was his pillar of support--Sleepydawn did what he said because he was the clan leader. It was the right thing to do because he was the clan leader. Now, he wasn't the clan leader anymore. What does that mean for Sleepydawn?

-Bearspring (56 moons, she/her) After her mother, Cherrystar, died, Bearspring was left with a gaping wound. She was bitter at the loss, and angry, and Ravenstar, who had always been a good friend to her mother, took her under his wing and taught her ways to get that anger out. She was loyal to him, unfailingly, and then her mother's ghost appeared and said that she was murdered. And then Ravenstar died in front of her. There's a lot going on inside her head right now, but the largest emotion is probably guilt. She thinks she's been betraying her mother all this time.

-Marshjump (56 moons, he/she) Marshjump is Bearspring's brother. He never fell under Ravenstar's paws, always too soft-hearted and relying on his father more than anyone, but he saw how his sister did. He didn't know the extent of Ravenstar's cruelty until now, when he saw his mother's ghost. Now, not only does he see that, but he sees his sister, trembling in guilt and rage and grief, and knows he has a chance now to bring her back to him. He's grieving, but he also feels shock and joy and terror.

also bearspring. lmao

[suugarbabe]

Origin Stories

(part 3)

summary: baby first year matty arrives at hogwarts and the first person he interacts with seems to not know him at all. matty is unsure how to feel when someone treats him like just another person instead of the dark lords son

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt but comfort after, slight magical child abuse, sad baby matty ; ; ; she's a long one folks

an: forever thankful for @musingsofahufflepuff and all the wondrous thoughts he puts into this, the editing he helps with, just everything <3; you're all welcome, yes there is another part, there will always be more

Magical wounds don’t always heal quickly. They also don’t always heal without scars. Mattheo learned that if a diffindo charm is cast with enough hatred and precision a simple episkey charm won’t do the trick.

That or his first year wand work just isn’t as practiced. His mother forbade his elf, Feindre, from healing it for him, and Salazar knows she wasn’t going to do it. 

Which left little newly twelve year old Mattheo standing in his bathroom staring in the mirror. It wasn’t even bleeding; the dark magic that his mother emits singed the edges of the cut as she made it. 

He really did try to heal it the best he could, but it seemed like he was going to always have a prominent scar running through his right eyebrow. 

His first thought after it all happened was how disappointed you’d be. That was his internal rationale as to why he was going to avoid you when he finally made it back to the castle. 

He couldn’t fathom his nightmares coming true. For you to tell him that you hated him. That he was a monster for what he did. That he deserved what his mother had done. 

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, intending on just wallowing in self-pity. So when you found him hidden behind the wicker baskets near your common room entrance he was surprised. 

The sniffling alerted you. You were able to hear it as you neared the bottom of the spiral staircase. At first you thought maybe a fellow first year had forgotten the password, looking ahead of you to try and find someone from your dorm. 

But two steps past the stone tree base of the stairs and you heard sniffling again, this time from the nook that held the baskets. 

If he hadn’t made any noise, no one would be any the wiser that there was a Slytherin first year crouched behind the tall baskets in the stair nook. A crying one at that. 

“Matty?” Your voice startled him, quick hands swiping away his tears and fluffing his hair. “Matty, is that you back here?” Your head poked around the basket just in time to see him straightening out his robes. 

He turned his back to you. Part of him was hoping you’d just leave him there to rot in his miserable pit of shame and sadness. Part of him was glad you were there. 

“I know you can hear me, Mattheo.” The use of his full name made him flinch and he turned around to face you. While his back was turned you had joined him on the floor, legs criss-crossed and hands resting in-between. 

He kept his head down, curls covering his forehead, “Are you here to yell at me?” 

“Why would I-” your sentence was interrupted as he raised his head, fresh scar on full display. 

“I’m assuming Theo or Enzo told you, so you found me to tell me off and tell me what a shit friend I am. But don’t worry…I’ve been telling myself all of it already.” His voice wobbled at the end of his sentence, tears welling in his eyes. 

You didn’t understand what was happening, “Matty, talk to me, what- why would I be mad at you?” 

He sniffled again as he wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand, “I b-broke your promise.” 

You inched closer to him, just slightly. You didn’t want him to run off; he was apparently good at finding places to hide. “Matty, what promise are you talking about?” 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he said it, “I couldn’t let it go, I…he just..Draco is a fucking prat and he deserves what I did.” You nodded, face unchanging, “What did you do, Matty.” 

He took a shuddered breath, willing himself not to cry while he explained himself, “He just looked so smug at the party - his family’s christmas party they throw every year - and I just couldn’t stand it

“Not with me knowing what he said to you, how he made you feel. It wasn’t right that he was laughing with his brainless friends that follow him around. I just kept seeing you crying in the back of my mind.” 

There was a rush of heat to your cheeks, something about knowing Matty was still dwelling on how awful you felt was stirring something inside you but you couldn’t tell exactly what. 

“I guess he must’ve told a joke or something,” Mattheo continued, staring at a point on the ground like it was replaying live in his brain as he told you, “Crabbe was cracking up and Draco just had that smirk on his face and I knew it was likely the same when he was being awful to you.

“So I had to do something, I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed through the crowd and I went right up to him and I just…lost it. I punched him in the gut first. Then he tried to take out his wand from his pocket and I just grabbed it from him and threw it into the crowd of adults around us.

“I just kept hitting him, and hitting him and I couldn’t stop. When he started crying I just thought good, he deserves this. I wanted him to physically feel the pain he had emotionally caused you.”

He felt the tears start to fall, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. If you were going to stop being friends with him, he wanted you to know everything, to know he got rightfully punished already so that hopefully when you told him off you weren’t as harsh. 

“My mother stopped me. Well she…hit me with a stupify jinx and I guess she apparrated us back to our manor because she hit me with something else to wake me up so she could berate me.” 

He spared you to the details of his mother’s words. ‘You horrifically idiot child, do you know how embarrassing that was for me? For your father? Over a Mudblood, Mattheo. Mudblood we aim to rid our world of, we do not defend them.

“Is your mother the one who…” you trailed off, but he knew you were staring at it. “She was teaching me a lesson,” was all he could respond with. 

He saw you shake your head in his peripheral, “No. Absolutely not, no Matty that is not a lesson that’s abuse. C’mon. C’mon let’s go right now, we’re going to Madam Pomfry, I’m taking you to the infirmary so she can fully heal it.” 

You stood up then. He didn’t move, “No, I can’t do that.” You held your hand out for him, “Just, let’s go Matty she can heal it up really well I’ve seen her do it on one of my dorm mates before.” 

Mattheo just shook his head, “You don’t understand…she’ll just do it again. She wanted it like this, made me heal it myself and everything it’s…it’s a reminder.” He heard you scoff from above him. 

“What could that possibly be a reminder of? That she hates you?” Your mind was filled with so much purity, Mattheo almost didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to ruin how you saw the wizarding world, the excitement and joy you had on the train. 

But he also couldn’t lie to you, so he did his best to say the tamest version of what it really was, “It’s her reminder that she could if she wanted to.” Your sweet soul just couldn’t comprehend, “That she could what?” 

“Anything.”

You stood in a silence for a moment. To Mattheo it felt like forever. Like you were deciding all of it was too much. That he was too much. When you started speaking he couldn’t help his reflexive tensing, waiting for the rejection he figured was coming.

“Will you let me give you your Christmas present then? It might cheer you up?” 

Between the crying and standing up quickly Mattheo went slightly light headed for a moment, “Y-you got me a gift?” You gnawed on your lip slightly, “Well, erm, I didn’t actually buy you something but I…made you something.” 

You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling with one another. Mattheo grabbed your hand suddenly, ignoring the rapid rhythm of his heart getting stronger and louder at the contact as he started dragging you down the hall. 

You glanced quickly at the pile of barrels that was your house entrance as Mattheo stopped in front of a portrait on the wall about ten feet down. “Erm, Matty. Why are we standing here,” you mock whispered, mirroring his position and looking at the portrait. 

“I’m waiting for you to say your password,” he turned to look at you, face scrunched in slight confusion. A grin broke on your face, “This is not my house entrance, goofy.” 

You begin to walk away from him, Matty following closely like a new puppy as you stop in front of the pile of barrels. You take a step closer to the barrel two from the bottom, knocking in time with the name ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. 

The front of the barrel begins to roll upwards into itself and you start to walk forward, Mattheo immediately behind you. “Your password is just knocking?” You nod, “Mhm! And it’s never changed and we were told it never will change. So you can’t tell anyone.” 

Mattheo nodded, “I won’t.” You turned to him then, “Do you pinky?” Mattheo couldn’t stop the instinctual tilt in his head, “Do I what?” You held a fist out towards him, your small pinky finger the only thing outstretched, “Do you pinky swear?”

His quickly mimics your hand position, confusion further settling in his brain as you hook your pinky finger on to his. You jut out your thumb, bringing it to your lips and kissing it quickly. 

Again, Mattheo does the same, not understanding what’s going on. “Okay, now seal it,” you lean your fist against his, your thumb reaching over. He touches his thumb to yours and his face and neck begin to feel hot.

His heart is beating quickly and he sort of feels light headed again, but you’re smiling, so he’s smiling and then you’re opening the door to your room. 

Enzo was the first to notice it, pointing it out loudly from across the dorm. “Whatcha carryin’, Matt?” Mattheo set the gift bag, your gift bag, down on his bed before shrugging off his robes. 

He was digging in his trunk, top half nearly fully inside while looking for lounge clothes when he heard the crinkle of tissue paper. By time he was able to get back to his bed Theo had revealed one of your gifts. 

“S’that a little dragon?” Enzo walked over enthusiastically to the opposite side of the bed Mattheo was on. Theo was currently holding the crocheted Antipodean Opaleye high in the air. 

Theo’s slightly longer limbs gave him the advantage he was hoping for as Mattheo reached for it, “Give it back, it’s not yours. It was made for me, not you!” 

Enzo climbed up on the bed next to Mattheo’s, giving himself a few good jumps before launching himself over and on top of Theo. “Oof– Enzo what the fuck,” Berkshire had snagged the handmade stuffie and was now settled against Mattheo’s pillows inspecting it.

He turned it this way and that, looking from its long neck to its wings and down to the tail before Matty grabbed it back from him. “Cut it out you gits, you’re gonna break him.” 

“What’s that string on your wrist?” Theo reaches to grab Mattheo’s forearm but he pulls it quickly into his chest. He grabs hold of his wrist, shielding it from view. 

The incessant whine of Draco’s voice wafts from his curtains, “Two handmade gifts? Your little badger friend poor or something? No surprise for a mud-” 

The rage in Mattheo grew nearly as high as the night he tried to beat Draco with his bare hands. Thankfully you had done more than just crochet and stuff the dragon; Mattheo held the Opaleye towards Draco’s bed, pulling strongly on its tail. 

A stream of flames emitted from the stuffed dragon’s mouth, immediately igniting the middle of the drapes on Draco’s four poster. 

“Wicked…clever little badger charmed it?!” Theo sounded highly impressed and Mattheo gleamed with pride. With Draco now distracted with his flaming curtains, Mattheo turned to his friends.

Enzo couldn’t contain his laughter at the sight, hands clutching his belly as he rolled to his side. Theo had his palm outstretched, giving Matty a ‘give it here’ motion with his fingers while holding a finger to his lips. 

Mattheo passed the dragon over just as Draco managed to put the first fire out. Theo then gave the Opaleye’s tail another tug, another stream of fire reaching Draco’s bed. The blonde boy let out a high pitched squeal of terror, attempting to throw a stinging jinx towards the other boys.

An impressive protego charm was thrown up by Matty as they all ran out of the room and towards the common room in a fit of giggles. As they all settled near a fireplace in separate chairs, catching their breath, Theo was the first to break the silence, “Where’d you learn that protection charm, amico? Isn’t that a sixth year charm?” 

“You know who his parents are-ow!” Theo wacked Enzo in the back of the head, “Futtuto idiota!” He turned back to Mattheo, “Sorry ‘bout him.” 

Mattheo just shook his head, gnawing lightly on his bottom lip, “S’okay, he’s right. Feindre-erm, my house elf taught it to me.” His face warmed slightly at the admittance. 

Enzo, trying to gracefully recover from his earlier statement, smiled far too widely, “Well that was - erm, nice of him?” Theo groaned, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose before changing the subject, “You gonna show us what’s on your wrist now?” 

Mattheo shyly held his hand out in front of him. Both Theo and Enzo leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at the twisted and knotted pattern of greens, black and white on his wrist. Matty’s heart beat a little faster, something akin to protectiveness over your handiwork coming over him. 

“Badger made that by hand you said? No magic at all?” Enzo was now sitting on his knees in front of Mattheo, peering closer at the bracelet on his wrist. “Merlin, Enzo, back up. Where’s your boundaries, mate,” Theo pulled Enzo back by his collar causing the boy to fall backwards. 

“They said it was a friendship bracelet,” Mattheo said the phrase with some pride in his tone. Theo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Where’s our friendship bracelets?” Mattheo shrugged, “Dunno, maybe you guys aren’t really friends.” 

“Oi! We’re friends!” Enzo defended, “We stand next to each other in Herbology, we were partners just last week!” Mattheo laid across the sofa, putting his hands behind his head, “Partners do not equate friends, Enzo.” 

Matty smirked to himself when he heard Enzo begin to grumble. “Well we’ll just find out at breakfast tomorrow won’t we.” 

You didn’t show up for breakfast. Mattheo’s mind went in a bit of a spiral because of it. He ran through everything that happened the previous evening, all of your interactions together. 

Was he not enthusiastic enough about his gifts? It wasn’t that he was not excited, he just never received such a thoughtful gift before. 

He never received any gifts before. 

He didn’t eat at all. The thought of you being upset with him made him feel physically ill and the idea of eating sausage and eggs made him want to vomit. 

He had been pulling at his curls during his walk to charms, gnawing on his bottom lip harshly. He was just about ready to explode from the weird rush of heat that seemed to be encompassing him the more he thought about you when he finally heard your voice. 

“Matty!” You were waving your hand high as you walked through the doorway. Without giving it thought Mattheo did the same, raising his arm high as he waved, his new friendship bracelet now on full display. 

Your grin was so large Mattheo was sure your face was about to split right in half, “You wore it! I’m so glad, I was afraid you’d find it a little bit cheesy.” 

Mattheo followed your gaze to his arms now crossed on the table, bracelet still peaking from his robes. The bridge of his nose and tips of his ears suddenly became very warm as he pulled his sleeve to cover it fully. 

“Erm, yeah. I’ve never gotten a present-Ehm, a present like that before. How did you make it without any magic?”

You turned in your seat to face him, hands animated as you spoke, “Last summer I visited my cousin in America and we went to this thing called a summer camp and we learned how to do all sorts of cool stuff, bracelets were one of them.” 

Mattheo had a bad habit of staring and not responding. He supposed it was likely something he developed to cause less negative reactions from his mother. 

However you were now running your hand through your hair, cheeks seemingly warming and waiting for a response. “What’s, erm, what’s a summer camp?” Mattheo finally found his voice but he wanted to smack himself. 

You sound so stupid, everyone probably knows what those are. He clenched his fist tightly, then relaxed them; a skill Feindre taught him a few years ago. 

Your eyes seem to brighten once more, launching into a long explanation about the experience and all the activities you got to do and what they meant. 

It all sounded like Gobbledegook to him, but seeing how happy it made you to get the opportunity to explain something that excited you was satisfying enough for him.  

Charms was the only class he had with you Monday mornings. Thus, once Fitwick dismissed everyone he was stuck to survive without you until lunch. Mattheo, therefore, felt numb for the next two classes.

Theo was about to ask Mattheo if he needed to go to the infirmary on their way to lunch as it looked like he’d been walking around brain dead for the last two lessons. That is until he noticed you at the lunch table, next to Enzo. Sitting right next to Enzo. 

Theo also noticed this, grabbing Mattheo by the elbow and dragging him to the other side for the both of them to sit across from you. Mattheo contemplated if it would be too dramatic of him to climb over the table and sit on your free side. 

“So what’d we miss?” Theo started piling food on his plate, a passing glance at you and Enzo the only indication of where he was directing the question. 

You rolled your eyes as Enzo responded, “I was just asking our little badger here why Matt got a friendship bracelet but we didn’t.” 

They’re my badger not our badger you twit, Mattheo squeezed his eyes shut trying to shake the negative thought from his brain. 

Theo hummed, biting into one of the several pasties he now had on his plate, “Hey, that’s right! Why didn’t we get one?” 

You shrugged your shoulders, “Matty was my first friend.” Mattheo’s chest swelled, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Enzo scoffed, “We were your second and third friends! We deserve bracelets too! What, do you hate us all of a sudde-ow, ow, oi what the?!” 

Enzo’s hand covered his forehead where you had just landed a particularly hard flick with your finger, “Lorenzo don’t be selfish.” The boy next to you slumped his shoulders slightly, a soft and grumbled ‘sorry’ leaving his lips. 

Theo took another bite of pasty, “M’kay so when we’re all as close as you and Matty do we get two gifts, too?” 

“Well one was for Christmas and one was for his birthday.” You said it so casually, like it made perfect sense. Mattheo, however, was looking at you with wide awestruck eyes before quickly looking down at his plate. 

The other two boys looked slightly guilty. ”Mate,” Enzo looked toward the older boy, “your birthday was over holiday? We missed it?” 

Mattheo just shrugged, “You both were around. It was the same day as Malfoy’s little soirée.” Theo and Enzo looked at each other before Theo turned to Mattheo, “You mean the same day your mum-”

“Yeah, the same,” Mattheo pulled on the curls by his forehead trying to hide the still healing scar by his eyebrow. Noticing his uncomfortableness, you tried to change the subject. 

“Did he show you guys his dragon’s special skill?” 

Mattheo was thankful for the distraction. The other boys taking pride in the slight torture they all instilled on Draco. You tried to reprimand them slightly but Mattheo saw the edges of your lips curling upwards. 

Enzo, as always, was being enthusiastic in his storytelling. Hands flailing and body moving to illustrate what his words were describing. As he described getting the little dragon from Theo, he mimed launching himself off the bed and then wrapped his arms around you to simulate what he did to Theo and Mattheo suddenly felt horrible. 

A weird twisting started appearing slowly in his stomach and spreading throughout his body. It only became more intense as you laughed, pushing Enzo off you. A low heat began emanating off Matty as Enzo continued to bump or nudge you throughout his storytelling. 

Mattheo gripped his fork harshly, the prongs scraping against the table as a means of distraction (and not hex Berkshire at the lunch table). Someone must have asked him a question because Theo nudged him with his elbow, nodding his head towards you. 

“Are you okay, Matty?” Your eyebrows were knit slightly together, eyes darting from his to his fork making four deep marks in the wood of the table. Mattheo dropped his fork to the table, “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?” 

A small smile appeared on your features, “I just asked what you were thinking about.” Mattheo wracked his brain for a viable excuse. He wasn’t sure how you would feel about him plotting Enzo’s demise due to his proximity to you. 

“Ehm, I was, erm, just thinking about what to get you for, erm your birthday? W-when is it again?” 

Through a mouthful of sausage Enzo answers for you, “ ‘ts in March.” That twisting feeling started brewing again, thankfully Theo asked what Mattheo was wondering. “How do you know when their birthday is?”

Enzo sat a little straighter, “Because we’re friends.” Then very unceremoniously, he stuck his tongue out at Matty. 

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Enzo,” Matty threatened and the boy immediately sucked his tongue back into his mouth. You playfully scolded the curly haired boy, “Oh hush, Matty you will not. And yes, Enzo we’re friends, Theo you are also my friend but Mattheo is my best friend.” 

Mattheo felt like his heart was swelling, the smile exploding on his face was out of his control and his legs started bouncing slightly. Then he turned back to Enzo, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I’ll cut that tongue out, Matty,” Enzo mocked his friend's earlier words. You rolled your eyes, Theo apparently doing the same. “Are they always like this?” 

Theo leaned his head on his fist, elbow supported on the table as his eyes darted back and forth at the two other boys flinging insults at each other, “Honestly this is new, but I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon.” 

Now that he had learned when your birthday was, Mattheo was determined to get you a gift. He had two months to plan, and he was really wracking his brain about what would be good enough after all you’ve done for him. 

He did his best to listen intently (as if he listened any other way around you) for any idea of what to get you. Mattheo knew he was rich, all of his friends were. He could buy you anything you wanted. He wanted to buy you anything you wanted. 

But everything you talked about loving or wanting wasn’t material whatsoever. 

A month and a half later Matty was slumped in a lounge chair in his common room. He was looking especially moody, which made Theo a little hesitant to even ask, but he considered Mattheo a good friend now. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, Matt?” Theo lounged sideways over the chair next to Mattheo’s, his continuously growing limbs hanging over each side. Mattheo stayed brooding, “Why do you care.” 

Theo shrugged, “We’re mates, I care about you. I don’t wanna see you all sad and mopey all the time.” Mattheo felt a slight pang in his chest, looking over at Theo and his shy grin. 

Mattheo sat up straighter, “I don’t know what to get y/n for their birthday and it’s only like two weeks away now.”  Theo nodded, “Have they mentioned anything they want?” 

A scowl crossed over Matty’s face, “Don’t you think I’ve been listening for that all this time?” Theo threw his hands up in defense, Mattheo sighed, “Sorry, I’m sorry Theo it’s just. Ugh, they’re so great, you know? They made me gifts. How can anything I buy top a handmade gift?” 

Mattheo sunk into the chair again with a groan. Theo pulled at his bottom lip as he thought to himself, then shaking his head as if to disregard whatever he was thinking. “You know they still haven’t made us bracelets? Enzo was complaining earlier saying he was just going to make them himself but he can’t figure out how they did it.” 

Mattheo’s eyes widened, and then a wonderful idea occurred to him, “I don’t say this often, Nott…but you’re a bloody genius. I gotta go.” And with that he sprinted from the common room. 

Mattheo slowed as he reached the library. He really hoped she was in there. He didn’t particularly have a problem with her, per say. But he knew she had a problem with him and all of his friends. Maybe his cousin in particular. 

As typical, he spotted Hermione Granger alone at one of the library tables, parchment and textbooks spread all about, quill moving vigorously. 

He stood in front of her table for a moment before he realized he’d have to actually say something for her to get out of whatever study trance she was in. Matty cleared his throat, “Em, hello.” 

Her quill stopped abruptly, eyes slowly lifting until she realized who was in front of her. Mattheo took her silence as a guide to keep talking, “You’re, erm, muggle born right?” The shift in her eyebrows told Mattheo he started off with the wrong thing, quickly trying to back track and start over. 

“No, not like that! I just mean…you know what this is right?” He pulled his robes up, showing off the intricate pattern of string in his house colors. Hermione set down her quill, “You’re asking me if I know what a friendship bracelet is? What are you up to Riddle, some sort of prank?”

He quickly calmed the bit of anger that arose inside his chest, “It’s Mattheo…and no, it’s not a prank. Do you know how to make these? Where I could get the stuff for it?” She set down her quill, clasping her hands in front of her. 

“Why should I help one of Malfoy’s little friends?” Mattheo scowled for a brief moment, then cooled his face back down, “First of all, we’re not friends. Our proximity is by force not by choice, Granger. Second of all, I’m the one who gave him the black eye after Christmas.” 

They stared at each other in silence, Hermione very clearly trying to analyze if he’s being truthful. Mattheo did his best to keep his stoic, however he couldn’t hold her stare, eyes darting around at everything but her. 

“Fine…I’ll tell you, but just the basics.” 

Mattheo had never sat down so quickly at a library table all year. Hermione pulled out a piece of fresh parchment from her bag, ripping off about six inches. “There’s that much instruction?!” Mattheo was beginning to feel defeated, but Hermione just held up her hand to silence him. 

“I’m just writing basic instructions and a very rough illustration,” she turned the parchment to face him. Mattheo’s eyes danced over the words, desperately trying to make them all make sense. Hermione then tapped the tip of her wand to the parchment, the illustration now repetitively demonstrating how to start the knots. 

Mattheo had to stop his jaw from dropping, “Woah.” Hermione shrugged, “That’s the best you’re getting, don’t expect a real life example from me. It’s not going to be easy if this is the first time you’ve ever attempted it, I hope you know that.” 

His mouth flattened into a thin line, “I’m well aware…but erm, thanks for this.” He stuffed the parchment in the pocket of his robes and stood up. 

“Thanks for punching your cousin,” Hermione wore a small smile as she began focusing back on her work. He began to walk away before turning round to face her once more, “Where would I find the right-”

“Any common string will work, Ri- Mattheo.” 

He nodded, thanking her once more before leaving the library. He started down a random corridor, trying to wrack his brain on where in this ginormous castle he would find what he was looking for. 

The bracelet you made him was his house colors, would you like it if the one he made was yours? Fuck what was their favorite color again? Did they tell me? I’m such a shitty listener, Mattheo felt like he was going insane. This had to be perfect. 

His mind was going a mile a minute, round and round of what he might need, where he was supposed to get it. Then a door appeared next to him on the corridor wall. It looked like an entrance to a broom closet. He looked both ways down the corridor before shrugging his shoulders and turning the doorknob to walk inside. 

“Bloody hell…” the room did turn out to be about the size of a broom closet. But it also held about every color of string Mattheo could think of. There were also small bins of tiny beads, all different colors, some white and round with black little letters. 

As he searched for materials he noticed all of the house colors seemed to be sectioned off together. He walked over to the black and yellow of Hufflepuff before noticing another few sets of bins with different beads in them. Black beads, boring. Yellow beads, boring-er. 

Then he saw the perfect touch he wanted to add. A little gold bead with a tiny little black badger. Perfect, he thought, a badger for my badger. 

When your mother is Bellatrix Lestrange and your father is Voldemort, a lot of things will come easy to you. Magic, for instance, was something that Mattheo started to show signs of at around one year old. 

It was almost unheard of, but no one was really surprised. From what he’s told he was able to levitate his bottle to him whenever he wanted it. Since then most things would just come to him if he tried it or willed it. 

So why he was struggling so badly with making a simple bracelet out of string and beads he could not figure out. 

“Oh fucking hell,” he cursed out loud before trying to undo the last three knots that he had just realized were the wrong pattern for that line of color. 

Enzo tsked from across the room, “You still tryna work on that, Matt? You know their birthday is tomorrow.” Mattheo grumbled to himself getting up from his desk to go and punch his pillow a few times. 

“I’d say he knows, Berk,” Theo was laying out his uniform on his desk chair. “You do have a back up plan though right, Matty? I mean this as a friend who cares…you’re not finishing that tonight.”

Mattheo flopped down into his bed face first and screamed for five seconds straight. He then turned his head towards his friends, “I can buy them a hippogriff…they always talk about how that’s their favorite magical creature.” 

Enzo couldn’t control the bubble of laughter that left his throat as Theo quirked an eyebrow, “Mattheo…what would they even do with that? Where would they keep it? Just a hippogriff hanging in the Hufflepuff common room?” 

“They are the more nature loving house, Theo,” Enzo was biting his lip to stifle his giggles. Theo threw him a glare, turning back to Matty, “Where would they keep it over summers? Christmas holidays? Are they going to bring a hippogriff to their home in muggle London?!”

Enzo held out both of his hands in front of him, “Let’s not be too hasty, I definitely think Matt should get ‘em one. It’s a great idea.” 

Theo hopped of his bed, walking over to Enzo’s before giving the back of his head a good thwack! “Idiota de merda!” 

Enzo rubbed the back of his head with a grimace, “I’m getting tired of you sods bloody hitting me all the time.” Theo jumped back onto his own bed, “Then stop deserving it.” They started to lightly bicker back and forth, Mattheo just ignored them for the moment. 

Mattheo then glared at both of them, each boy turning away and mumbling something about it getting late and needing to go to bed. Mattheo followed suit, climbing completely under his covers and drawing his drapes.

He felt like a great weight was on top of him. Pressing him further and further into his bed. Squishing him down further into a pit reserved for the worst friends known to man and wizard kind. Maybe if he just succumbs to the darkness then he won’t have to wake up and disappoint you. 

He grabbed hold of the dragon you made him, holding it close to his chest and tucking it under his chin. He knew getting an actual hippogriff was a little crazy. But he could afford it, it wasn’t like it was out of his means. 

He tucked his face into his stuffed dragon, thinking again about how thoughtful and talented it was of you to make him the little stuffed animal. Then, right before sleep took over, a fantastic idea began consuming his thoughts. 

Mattheo slept through breakfast. He woke up with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat. He likely had a nightmare, of what he wasn’t sure. There were about three in rotation right now. 

In a rush he got ready and nearly sprinted to charms, getting to his seat beside you slightly out of breath. On the desk in front of him was a biscuit with jam. Gooseberry, his favorite. 

“Boys said you were sleeping when they left. Figured you might be late…and hungry,” you were smiling at him in that kind way that you do. He was thankful he ran that last bit to class as now you wouldn’t notice how intensely he was blushing. 

“T-thanks, but shouldn’t everyone be getting things for you today?” Mattheo had a shy smile on his face. You tilted your head slightly, he continued, “Because it’s your birthday. Erm. Happy Birthday, Y/n.” 

Your smile was unimaginably wide, “Thank you, Matty.” Flitwick entered the room from his office at the front, effectively silencing any conversation being had. 

The lesson went on in a fog, you studiously taking notes and Mattheo trying to figure out if he had enough time after potions and before lunch to grab your gifts from his room. 

Once Flitwick dismissed everyone, Mattheo walked you to your next class. “You didn’t have to do this, aren’t you going to be late to potions?” Your chest felt warm and you couldn’t stop smiling. 

Mattheo shrugged, “It’s your birthday, you deserve all the attention today.” You thanked him again before waving goodbye and entering your next classroom. 

As soon as your back was turned Mattheo started sprinting towards the dungeons. The only time he was thankful for his father being the Dark Lord was when it came to Professor Snape. 

Mattheo had been late to potions the most out of all of his courses this year. Each time Snape had given him a look, asked him to find his seat, but not taken any house points. Today had been the same. He did as asked, sitting next to Theo. 

“You figure out what to get your little badger?” Theo flicked his wand and ignited the flames beneath his and Mattheo’s cauldron. Mattheo nodded, “Yeah, gonna give it to them during lunch.” 

Theo continued to bug Mattheo throughout potions and the next lesson about what he ended up getting you. But Mattheo didn’t budge. He didn’t want anyone else to know your gift before you. He wanted it to be special, just like yours were to him. 

Mattheo told Theo he would meet him in the Great Hall, rushing back down to his dorm to grab your gift bags. When he finally made his way back up all the stairs, he found you sitting across from Theo and Enzo near the end of the Slytherin table. His rightful spot beside you free just for him. 

As he walked over he noticed two more gifts sitting in front of you. His face must have displayed his confusion as you happily clarified as he sat down, “Theo and Enzo got me gifts, isn’t that nice of them?” Mattheo turned to the other two boys. Theo wore a tight lipped smile, while Enzo showed all his teeth.

Mattheo sat both of his bags next to the others as you took the first small bag and began to open it. Theo sat up straighter, grin growing as you pulled out his gift. “Ice cream?” you asked, causing Theo’s face to turn up slightly in disgust. 

“Ice cream?? No, no, compagno, it is gelato! I don’t know if you know this, but I’m Italian, we do not eat ice cream. Would never let that monstrosity touch my tongue,” Theo fake gagged, sticking his tongue out. 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, “Thank Merlin you told me. I couldn’t quite tell by your thick accent, so I’m glad you clarified.” A smirk adorned your face as Theo stuck his tongue out. 

“I owled mia mamma and she sent some over for me. There’s a chilling charm on it so it will always be cold, you don’t even have to put it in, erm,” Theo had his hand in front of him moving it in a circular motion, “como si dice…your cold box?” 

Enzo rolled his eyes, “The freezer.” You nodded in understanding, “Thank you, Theo. That’s so cool! Tell your mum thanks from me too.” Theo gave you a small nod as you grabbed the next bag. 

It was a little smaller than the first. You pulled off the top tissue paper to see what looked like a piece of ripped parchment. You held it up in front of you, staring at the blank piece of parchment. “Erm…thank you, Enzo.” 

Enzo displayed a toothy grin, shaking his head, “Turn it over.” You did as told, reading in small, sloppy scrawl, Coupon: good for two free flicks. You burst into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach. Mattheo had to shoot his arm out to catch you from falling backwards. 

“Care to share with the class?” Mattheo took the piece of parchment from you as you handed it over. “Good for two free flicks? Really Enzo?” Theo reached over the table, pulling a quill out of his back, “Let me notarize the back of this so he can’t go back on his word.” 

Enzo took the quill from Theo, signing below him, “I’m serious. You can use them whenever you think is necessary.” Mattheo and Theo rolled their eyes in sync. “Don’t use them all at once, I’d save them up if I were you.” 

Mattheo nodded, “Keep that parchment in a good place, I say make him wait a year or two and then go for the attack.” You took the ‘coupon’ back from Theo and folded it neatly, putting it in a safe pocket inside your bag. 

You went to grab the next gift, “These last two both from you, Matty?” He nodded shyly, “Em, yeah…Christmas and your birthday.” You beamed, beginning to take the tissue paper out of the bag before reaching inside. The first thing you pull is a pack of cauldron cakes. 

“Oh yum, my favorite, thank you Matty- Holy Helga is this…is this a little niffler?” You hold up the small stuffie of a baby niffler, turning it and showing it to the other two boys. Mattheo nods with a grin, “It has a little pocket in it’s belly like a real one. I figured you could keep your wizard money in there when you're on breaks or something.” He scratched at the back of his neck nervously. 

“That’s brilliant, thank you!” You grabbed for the second gift and Mattheo started unconsciously picking at his thumbs. You pulled out another stuffed animal, this one being, “A hippogriff? Mattheo…you didn’t!”

Theo huffed, “Be happy he did this, he almost bought you a real one.” Mattheo’s cheeks were instantly aflame. Enzo continued on, shrugging his shoulders, “I still think it would’ve been a good idea.” 

Mattheo cleared his throat, trying to distract from his friends, clearly trying to embarrass him, “Touch, erm, touch your wand to it’s tail.” You pulled your wand from your robe pocket, doing exactly as Mattheo told. 

No sooner did your wand meet the back of the hippogriff did its little stuffed wings begin to move, flapping up and down as the animal started lifting from the table, its head moving this way and that before touching back down to the table and becoming imobile once again. 

Mattheo always had a way to make you smile until your cheeks hurt. Today he had made your birthday one of the best you had ever had. “I-I don’t know if I can say thank you enough times for this, Matty.” 

The curly haired boy just shook his head, “It’s not as good as what you got me. I mean, Salazar's sake you made my gifts. I just bought these and put a simple flying charm on one. I tried to make you something but it, erm, I haven’t-”

“This is perfect, thank you,” you turned to Theo and Enzo, “all of you. Best birthday ever.” Enzo made the four of you cheers with your pumpkin juice, vowing that in a few years it’d be something stronger. You threatened to use one of your flicks almost immediately. 

Mattheo continued to try to work on his own friendship bracelet for you, any of the boys walking in on him at random times bent over his desk fiddling with colored string and randomly cursing. 

He became so determined that he frequently ignored Enzo’s requests to play exploding snap or Theo’s requests to play wizards chess. Mattheo just kept saying he was ‘busy’ or he ‘needed to just finish this one part’, frequently working until he couldn’t tell the strings apart and just decided to go to bed for the night. 

“Fucking finally! Ha!” Mattheo stood abruptly from his desk shouting in victory and causing Enzo to nearly shut his trunk on his fingers with a yelp. “Fucking hell, Matt, what is it?” 

Theo folded one of his sweaters and placed it in his trunk neatly before turning around, “Finally manage to make a bracelet, eh, Matty?” Mattheo walked over, proudly holding his creation for them to see. 

Enzo peered at it closely, “It looks…” Theo interrupted, “Perfect. It looks great, amico.” Mattheo nodded after getting his friend's approval, setting the bracelet on his night stand before going over to his closet, grabbing all of his things in a large pile and tossing them messily into his trunk. “There, all done,” he pretended to dust his hands off before going over to his bed and climbing in. 

He held his dragon close to his chest, whispering quietly to himself, “M’gonna have to hide you in my trunk over summer. Have to soak up the cuddles now little buddy.” 

The next morning was nothing short of chaos. Dozens of students in the slytherin common room shouting what they were still missing. Things like ‘accio scarf!’ Or ‘Has anyone seen a bag of marbles?’ could be heard across the expansive space. 

Mattheo ignored all of it as he, Theo and Enzo made their way from the common room to the main halls. Just as they left the common room entrance, Enzo stated that he forgot something in his trunk that he wanted for the train. 

Theo graciously, but not without eye roll, agreed to go back with him. Mattheo trucked on ahead, stating he was going to meet you by the great hall before heading to the boat docks. 

As expected, you beat him there, waiting by the large hall entrance for him. You were wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a relaxed t-shirt. Mattheo was dressed in very neat and very expensive wizard robes. “Don’t you look dashing,” your tone was teasing but you wore a smile as you said it. 

Mattheo’s face heated all the same, “And you look…comfortable.” You laughed, “More comfortable than you I assume. You going to a ball right as you arrive home?” The two of you began the walk and subsequent descent down the many many stairs to where the first year boats were docked. 

“Erm, no ball but this is what my mother believes proper pureblood wizards should wear all the time..” he trailed off a little shyly, pretending to be hyper focused on not falling down the last few stairs. 

Hagrid greeted you both kindly, sitting you in a boat with two ravenclaws before pushing it off the dock and towards Hogsmeade Station. “Welp, hope Theo and Enzo don’t kill us for leaving without them.” 

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure they’ll find us eventually. Might as well enjoy the calm while we can.” You turned and looked behind you, taking a last glance at the castle for the year. 

“I’m gonna miss Hogwarts this summer. Do you think you will?” Mattheo watched you as you watched the castle, “Yeah, I’m gonna miss it a lot.” 

Once the boat docked Mattheo followed behind you on the platform and onto the Hogwarts Express. He didn’t understand why you were passing so many empty cars until you finally stopped and opened one. The same one you both rode to school in last September.

“S’gotta be tradition now, doesn’t it? Riding in the same car each year. Do you think we can manage it?” you sat on one of the car benches and kicked your feet up, stretching out. Mattheo thought about how early Feindre had gotten him to the train for his first year. It was likely always going to be that way. 

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” He sat down across from you, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pulling out a small envelope. “Hey, erm, I-I wanted to give you this before the others showed up. A going away present I s’pose.” 

You took the envelope from him, noticing your name printed across it in pointed and scratchy writing. “What is it? Oh, poo, I didn’t get you a going away gift,” you flipped the envelope over, pausing before opening it to pout slightly. 

Mattheo shook his head, “S’alright, not needed. Just..open this one and tell me if you like it.” 

You broke the seal, lifting the edge and peaking inside, “Is this what I think it is?” Your eyes suddenly grew wide as Mattheo gnawed on his bottom lip and shrugged. You opened your palm out flat, turning over the envelope. Out of it fell a black and yellow handmade bracelet with a single gold bead. 

“You made me a friendship bracelet?” Your voice was almost a whisper and you rubbed your fingers over the detail, holding it close to your face to inspect it. “Well…I made you a best friend bracelet. Now we match,” Mattheo’s voice sounded a bit small, but it was all the confidence he could muster. 

You shook your head with a smile, quickly turning over your wrist and attempting to tie it on with one hand. Mattheo picked at his thumbs for a moment before standing up and bridging the small space that was between the two of you, “Here lemme help.” 

His fingers fumbled slightly but he eventually was able to tie a knot correctly. You looked up from your wrist, meeting his eyes, “Thank you.” Mattheo held eye contact, “You’re welcome.” 

The train car opened with a slam, causing Mattheo to jump slightly before immediately sitting down on the bench beside you. You could feel the heat of his thigh on yours, but you didn’t say anything, Enzo’s mouth going a mile a minute with complaints. 

“I forget one bloody thing and you two go off and run to the train without us? You know Theo and I waited for like..five whole minutes at the Great Hall doors before saying screw it and just heading toward the docks. Only to see yet again that you two have left us.” 

Mattheo slumped back into the seat, “You’ve got to be kidding me, has he been like this the whole way?” Theo nodded, looking slightly exhausted, “You haven’t been listening to it for the last twenty minutes. Made us look in every train car window until we found you.” 

You looked around the car, laughing at your friend’s going back and forth at each other. Theo and Enzo started in at each other once again, causing you and Mattheo to make eye contact before bursting out in laughter. 

Mattheo smiled to himself. For the first time in probably his whole life, he would be confident in saying that at this moment, he was truly happy. For the next ten hours, he was determined to soak in as much of this happiness as he could, hoping it would last for the two months he would have to spend away from you.

[eightball-chronicles]

Cheering Up Daisuke!

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

inspired by some absolutely delicious art by @al1en-invasi0n !!! check em out theyre so yummy :3

this MIGHT be my first time writing a tk fic (it is) so please don't bully me gangalang ,,, criticism is accepted just be nice to me [cry] also was writen on laptop so if the formats weird i apologize oops ...

lee! daisuke, ler! curly (NON SHIP !!!!!)

tw / cw : tks, starts off a wee bit sad, mention of jeopardy (j*mmy)

word count : 3151 under the cut

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

"Get it through your goddamn skull! That vent is strictly off limits! Fully fuckin' collapsed inside!" 

It was safe to say that Swansea was pissed. Daisuke, just released from the emergency foam he'd accidentally triggered, was awkwardly shuffling in place as he received yet another earful from his mentor. He messed up, sure, but really? His legs hurt already from being trapped not too long ago, he didn't want his head to follow suit.  

"You looking to get impaled, electrocuted, and cooked?!" Swansea's usual scowl was far more intense than usual; it was obvious to Curly, at least. As captain, he knew he'd have to intervene soon. Before he could, however, Daisuke spoke out: 

"Yeah, but like, you can't fit in there to fix it, right? So I can totally handle it." 

An uncomfortable silence filled the utility room. the three men stood in as the younger's words marinated. Swansea's eye twitched, clearly agitated. Curly really needed to say something - if he doesn't, who knows what Swansea would- 

"Captain." 

He stiffened slightly, worried what the older man was planning.  Swansea extended his hand out to the captain, demanding the axe. Curly saw Daisuke twiddling his fingers from the corner of his eye. Both their heads moved in unison with Swansea's arm. "Swansea," Curly started, handing the mechanic the axe, "this could've damaged the pods. You can't let something like this happen again." 

"Yeah, yeah...I got it." Swansea took the axe and swung it to rest on his shoulder. "Loud and clear." Slightly less tense than before, Curly placed his hand on his hip. "Keep the axe until you've cleaned this all up, yeah?" Swansea nodded with a huff, shifting his attention to his intern. Who was still fidgeting his hands. He looked up shyly as he spoke: "It's ok to be big, boss! "My gramps was super huge! And he lived until, like, 60!" 

Oh shit. 

Curly nervously looked to Swansea, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Daisuke, unaware of the weight of his words, smiled softly. Curly's attention shifted when he noticed Jimmy standing by the utility room door. He saw it as a reason to excuse himself from the heavy tension between the two men before him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Curly swiftly made his way towards his co-pilot. Daisuke, finally noticing Swansea's mood, silently cursed at his captain for abandoning him. And as soon as he did... 

Swansea went off. Yelling all sorts of nonsense about safety and protocol that Daisuke didn't care to hear for the thirteenth time that week. Instead, trying to focus his attention on the conversation taking place behind his mentor. Unfortunately, he found it to be quite difficult. Something about being sane, psych evals, Anya - what was that about cartoon horses? 

Just as the two men started to walk off, Swansea yelled louder, noticing his intern not listening. This brought a new wave of lecturing, and Daisuke was *not* having it. He didn't even care if Swansea said the winning lottery numbers, he just wanted him to shut up. Much to his dismay, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon... 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

Curly just sent Jimmy away after receiving a letter from the higherups. He reread its contents again, confirming what it said as if he had somehow misread the whole thing. Pony Express is shutting down? How could this happen? How will he tell the crew? Although instructed to not break the news until later, Curly was unsure if he could do that. Sighing heavily, the captain decided to get some fresh air. Well, not exactly - just whatever was breathable outside the weighty air of the cockpit. 

Ready to open the door at the end of the hallway, Curly was stopped by Swansea's presence behind it. He noticed something off immediately; his familiar frown replaced with a more concerned expression. Curly questioned it without a second thought, to which Swansea replied: "It's about Daisuke. After you left, I kind of went off. I...I think I went too hard on him. I've lectured him a bunch of times before, but he seemed more down this time." 

"Oh? How so?" Curly asked, putting a hand to his chin. Swansea shifted his weight before continuing: "After I run my mouth to him, he usually puts on this dramatic act and pouts when I dismiss him to go somewhere else. This time seemed different. I don't know how to explain it, but I think I hurt the kid." 

Swansea ended his explanation with a deep sigh as he lowered his head; he clearly felt guilty, and Curly understood as much. "Have you tried talking to him?" 

"I'm not too sure how thrilled he'd be to see me right now. I don't wanna scare the poor thing any more than I already have.  Plus, I don't know where he's at." 

Curly nodded before Swansea spoke up again. "Do you think you can talk to him?" The captain thought for a brief moment before reaching out to the worried man, patting his shoulder. "Of course I can. I'll go look for him and cheer him up, promise! You can go rest if you'd like, just make sure the foam in utility gets cleared up later, yeah?" 

To this, Swansea relaxed, wearing an uncommon smile. He nodded as he thanked Curly and walked off. The now determined captain headed off with a mission in mind; he was going to get Daisuke to smile, no matter the cost. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

If you disregard the sobs, the cargo room was quiet. The vast space left a slight echo on Daisuke's cries. He sat on the stairs, head between his knees and arms around his shins. His mind ran as fast as the ship he resided on. Why was Swansea so much angrier than usual? He was just trying to help; he was his intern after all. Then again, he practically called him fat and kinda sorta maybe implied he would die at 60... 

Damn, why would he say that? 

At this point, Daisuke's thoughts were racing a million miles a minute. The grip on his pants tightened as he cried. God, he's a screwup. No wonder his parents sent him away on this internship. He was annoying at home, and he's annoying in space. Will he ever learn to keep his mouth shut? He was so lost in his head that he didn't hear the door open behind him, or the footsteps that followed it. 

"Daisuke?" 

Said boy jumped a foot as he frantically wiped his eyes. He turned to face the source of the voice, trying to put on an act and forced a smile. But that smile shook, and Curly noticed. "Hey, captain! What's up?"  

"I should be asking you that. Are you ok?" 

Daisuke flinched slightly, his fake smile faltered as his shoulders began to tremble again. "I...I-I just...Swansea..." He didn't get anything else out after that, nothing that was intelligible, at least. He broke down again, turning around and placed his head back on his knees. Curly frowned as he made his way to Daisuke. He sat to his left on the stairs, rubbing the boy's back as he tried to soothe him. He let him cry it out until he was left only sniffling. Only then did he decide to speak out. "C'mon Daisuke, talk to me. Swansea found me earlier and said you were down. What's wrong?" 

He let out a small whimper upon hearing his mentor's name. Shakily, he started: "I-I don't know, I should've just listened to him. I just wanted to help! B-but I screwed up...I-I could've gotten myself seriously hurt, o-or killed, or broken the pods! Those are like, s-super important! Even I know that, yet still acted c-carelessly. N-not only that, I totally offended S-Swansea! H-he probably hates m-me, I c-can't believe I said that...I'm a t-total f-failure, I-" He was getting more panicked as he spoke, voice as shaky as ever. Curly cut him off as he stopped rubbing his back and pulled the boy to him by his waist. Daisuke yelped slightly at the sudden change of contact, yet melted into the side hug.  

"Kid," Curly started, "do you know why Swansea talked to me?" He felt a slight head shake on his shoulder. "Because he was worried for you, Daisuke. He told me he went too hard on you; that he feels bad he might have hurt you. I've never seen a more guilty face on him. And trust me when I say that means a lot. I've worked with him for I don't even know how long. He didn't mean to - Daisuke?" 

His speech was cut when he heard small chortles from the boy in his arm. Curly glanced down, seeing his shoulders tremble once more, differently this time. "Did I...say something funny?" he asked, a confused smile on his face. Daisuke shook his head again, a hand over his mouth. "Nohoho, it's just - your hahand-" Curly's gaze shifted to where his hand resided on the intern's side; it had started subconsciously rubbing him there as it was on Daisuke's back. "What about my hand? Are you hurt here? Oh no, I'm so sor-" 

"No! No, it's not that. I'm not hurt." 

"Oh? Then what is it?" 

Daisuke felt his face heat up. Thank god Curly couldn't see his face. He shifted slightly, unsure how to answer. "I just - it's not - you didn't - uh..." He peeked up to the captain as he trailed off, where he was met with a genuinely concerned face. "I'm afraid I don't follow, you know you can tell me anything, ri-" 

"It just tickled is all..." He mumbled. 

"Come again?" 

With a whine, Daisuke buried his face further into his hand, leaning more onto Curly's shoulder. No matter how many times asked, he didn't say more. Curly, in attempt to get his attention, pinched the boy where his hand still laid; on his waist. What he didn't expect, however, was for Daisuke to chirp at the touch. Now it was Cury's turn to get his mind thinking. Which didn't last long, however, as Daisuke's squeaky voice spoke up: 

"IT TICKLED ALRIGHT?!" 

If he wasn't blushing before, he sure was now. Curly saw the back of Daisuke's neck turn bright pink. Realization struck him shortly after, where a mischievous grin appeared. To confirm the suspicion, Curly pinched his side again, earning another bird-like sound. Oh, he struck gold. 

"Daisuke...are you-" 

"Shut up!" 

Daisuke's neck was now a deep red, his face buried deep in his palms while his fingers grabbed at his hair. His captain walked in on him crying, then he continued to cry *on* his captain, and now this?! Could this be any more embarrassing?! Well, yes, it could. Curly pinched his side for a fourth time. Daisuke whipped his head towards him only to be met with a grin covering half of the blonde's face. "Oh, Daisuke...that isn't a very nice way to speak to your captain now, is it?" 

Fuck. He's cooked. 

"W-w-wait, I-I didn't me-EEHEHEAA!" 

Daisuke was interrupted by his own squeal as Curly opted for pinching at his waist repeatedly rather than in intervals. He instinctively curled in on himself; arms wrapped around his torso while he brought his knees to his chest. While trying to twist away from the offending hand, Daisuke unintentionally leaned into Curly, who went in with his other hand to pinch at the giggling boy's other side. 

He squealed again from the tickly assault suddenly appearing elsewhere. Daisuke started jumping left and right, trying to escape from one hand only to be attacked by the other. Curly switched to poking before long, as this made the younger let out soft snorts as he weakly kicked his legs. The captain chuckled under Daisuke's evergrowing laughter, finding his reactions amusing. "I just cannot believe you told me to shut up. I'm wounded, Daisuke, and your words are the blade. How could you say such a thing?!"  

Said boy could only whine in response, "I dihihidn't mehehean toooooo! C'mohohon cahaptahahahain!"  

"Oh really? And how can I be sure of that, hm?" 

"Plehehehease! I prohohomise! I'm sohohorry, I'm sorryyyyy!" 

"Hmmmm...let me think." Curly pondered dramatically *way* longer than needed as he continued to poke at the intern's torso. Daisuke continued to squeak and giggle as he 'spaced out thinking.' Suddenly, the blonde perked up, "Alright, I've thought about it! I'm not stopping~" He then proceeded to move both his hands to Daisuke's hips, massaging the bone tenderly. 

The reaction was instant. The brunette shot his arms down, body spasming on impact. Grabbing Curly's wrists, Daisuke cackled loudly, unable to control the volume of his voice. His legs now fully kicking out as he spoke, "AAAAAHAHAHA! SHIHIHIT! GOHOD DAMN IT CUHUHURLY STAHAHAHAP!" To this, he gasped loudly; he would've acted out clutching his pearls had his hands not been occupied. "And just who do you think you are?! Talking to me like this...you're awfully ballsy for someone in your position." 

Daisuke could only answer in giggly babbles, unable to get any coherent words out as his hip bones got circles drilled into them. Curly only clicked his tongue in mock annoyance and grabbed Daisuke's left arm with his right, lifting it up. In once swift motion, he left the boy more vulnerable than ever. He gave him a break during this - he didn't want to kill the kid. Taking in big gulps of air, Daisuke had yet to notice the position of his arm. Only when he tried to rub his eyes did he glance up. He knew what was coming. 

Panicked, he locked eyes with his captor, smile wide and bright as his face matched his complimentary floral shirt. "C'mohohon captain! Y-you knohow I didn't mean ihit right? Rihight! S-so let's juhuhust forget this ever happehened!" Daisuke tried to reason with him, but Curly was having none of it. On the contrary, he was having too much fun. "Nuh uh, kid. You've gotta learn how to speak to your superiors. Tsk, young ones these days thinking they're all that. Even though you crumble the second I do...*this*." 

As he finished, his free hand quickly snaked behind Daisuke, going straight to his ribs. He pinched, squeezed, poked; anything to get the brunette to squeal. And squeal he did; his bubbly laughter echoed in the ample space of the cargo room. He tried to grab Curly's hand with his free one, but the captain kept dodging, scratching a new rib in the process. He chuckled as he felt weak tugging on the arm he held up. " 

"Plehehehease, I'm sohorry! I sweahahahar! I-I mehehean it!" 

"Oh, are you now? And how can I believe that?" 

Daisuke groaned between giggles before he spoke, "I prohohomise! I promihihise I'm sohorry!" 

Curly lifted an eyebrow at the intern, his bright smile showing off the gap between his front teeth. The sight brought his own smile to grow in size. "Okay, let's say I believe you then. You're forgiven, bud." 

"Thehen why aren't yohohou stohohohoping?!" 

He chuckled at the naivety shown before him, shifting so he faced the boy before he answered, "Did you forget why I came here in the first place?" Daisuke whined in response, brain short circuiting as he felt fingers drilling into his torso, letting out a scream at his uppermost rib was attacked. "Oh c'mohohohohOHAHAH -  CURLY! Quit ihihit! That tickles!" 

Curly shook his head slightly, seeing the intern's blush deepen upon saying the word. "Sorry, Daisuke. Swansea said you were being gloomy earlier. We can't have that now, can we?" Said boy threw his head back as Curly formed a vibrating claw against the space between his highest rib and armpit. He snorted loudly from the sensation, barely able to form coherent words. "OKAHAY, OKAY! I'LL CHEHEHEHER UHUP! PROMISE! I PROHOMIHIHISE!" Daisuke ended his plea with a wheeze, laughter getting more strained. Curly saw this as a sign to wrap things up, slowing his fingers until the tickling came to a full stop. He let go of the boy's hand, where it fell to his side as he curled into himself next to his captain.  

Curly once again rubbed the younger's back, hoping he didn't go too far as he giggled between gasps of air. Daisuke held his sides, still feeling the tingly sensation on his body. Once his breathing calmed down a bit, Curly decided to speak up, "Are you alright? I didn't do too much, right?" He received a head shake in return; the redness on the boy's neck showed he was too flustered to speak. 

"You really shouldn't be too hard on yourself, you know? Swansea cares for you. He doesn't show it much, but he really does. Sure, he gets mad sometimes, but that's just who he is. Like I said earlier, he's the one who came to me about you; he was worried sick!" Daisuke glanced up at Curly's speech, eyes widened slightly with curiosity. "To tell you the truth," the blonde continued, "his own kids moved out a while ago. I think he misses them; not like he'd ever admit that, though. I have a suspicion that you remind him of them. Gets his dad-gears turning. His fatherly instincts probably kicked in earlier when you set off the foam. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" 

Daisuke nodded his head, a tiny nervous smile on his face as he took in the confession. Did Swansea really feel that way? "Do you really think that's true?" Curly's gaze met his, flashing him a proud grin; "I know it's true! Don't tell him I said anything, though. He'd deny it to the moon and back." To this Daisuke breathed a sigh of relief, letting a small chuckle slip. He sat up from his ball-like position to fully face Curly, returning the smile. "Thanks, captain!" 

The captain felt his heart slightly melt at the sight of the joyous boy. Wrapping his arm around him for another side hug, rustling his hair with his other hand. "No worries! I'll always be here. As long as you keep that attitude at bay. Don't think I won't put you in check, young man." Curly poked his side as he finished, earning one last squeak from the previously giggly intern. Daisuke jumped out of the captain's arms before he could try anything again, dramatically taking a defensive stance. He winked in his silly pose. "No promises~" he sang as he walked backwards to the door. It automatically opened, causing him to turn around and jump slightly. Curly stifled a laugh as Daisuke turned around, face slightly dusted pink. He stormed off, grumbling as he left the cargo room for good. Curly giggled to himself, still sat on the stairs, reflecting on his crew and each of their colorful personalities. 

Yup, he was glad to be captain. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

hai guys ^-^ i hope yall enjoyed !!! i love daisuke sm hes my gf i love my gf ♡

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

[blackorchidcoven]

Pick A Card

Your Demons

Pile 1 Spider Nightmare

Song: Venus By Shocking Blue 

“ Goddess on the mountain top

Burning like a silver flame

The summit of beauty and love

And Venus was her name

She's got it

Yeah, baby, she's got it

I'm your Venus, I'm your fire

At your desire

Well, I'm your Venus, I'm your fire

At your desire”

This energy is so intense. You’re definitely an intense person. This pile is very personal, I don't expect it to resonate for a lot of people because it’s so particular. I get the energy of someone who talks a lot, who rambles on and on. There’s also this tension… You really love attention. I hate to break it to you but someone has cursed you. I don’t know everything but it’s happened and I have to tell you. That’s why you’re being drawn to this post and to the occult world in general. Deep down inside, you know who it is that’s done it. That bitch! It’s because you have characteristics that they envy and they cannot forgive you for this. It’s so twisted. This may be weird but this pile reminds me of a family member of mine, someone I love dearly and would literally die for. I love this pile. Your life has been hard and it’s not your fault. It always has been since the very start but you never let that stop you cause your loved ones never stopped loving you. You have a strong bond with your loved ones. This is important. Never let them go. This person who has cursed you is unfortunately wedged deep into your family. Maybe they married in, maybe they work for or with your family in some fashion. No matter what, they are lurking. 

The image for this pile, the “card” is freaky. It depicts a little girl freaking out as a giant spider with a creepy cat head runs wild. I actually see this spider cat as a protector but the little girl is too young to realize. She is just scared. The cat is guarding her, and who knows… whatever the cat is hissing at could be even scarier than itself! 

Cats are independent, intuitive spirits. 

So, you who picked this card is the little girl. The cat is your guardian in some form. It comes across strongly. Whether you have one as a pet/familiar/spirit guide, or someone named Cat/Kat/Catherine or someone in mind with other feline attributes 

(wear animal prints, have whiskers/facial hair, wear cat eyeliner, have long nails/claws, are feisty 😈  & playful) 

Sounds crazy, but cats are! 🐱 

In this circumstance with my family member in mind, I’m the cat. 

The cat feels creepy sometimes but all you see is cute, so it’s hard to spot them. It’s sad but it’s easier to spot who cursed you rather than who is protecting you. You have just begun to think of life in a spiritual way. You are so excited but this person is ruining it for you, this gives it away. They try to scare you. They live a lie. They aren’t like you and you know it. You do not share the same values. You should get away from them. Cut them off. 

This person has become a detriment to you. They are flesh and blood but spiritually they are demonic. I’m sorry but they are. They’re corrupt. They’re into satanic culture and dark society. They want to watch the world burn. They’re made of something you are not. This person just hangs on. They’ve almost been told goodbye many times but it’s never truly manifested. It will but I know it will take a little while but be quicker than you think. I’m thinking around spring you’ll swear you see change even though you feel like you’re imagining it but by the end of summer everything will be taken care of. You’ll see. 

Energies: 

Cancer ♋️ 

Hallucinations 

Mass Hysteria 

Childhood Trauma 

Nightmares 

Femininity

Girlhood 

Goosebumps Books 

Love ❤️ 

Vintage 

Tradition 

Stereotypes 

Comic Books 

Action 

Art 

Curses 

Woman 

Witch 

Beef 

Jealousy 

Venus 

The Past 

Scorpio ♏️ 

Cherished

Spring 

Divine Intervention 

Pile 2 Swamp Queen 

Song: Beautiful By Christina Aguilera

“Don't look at me

Every day is so wonderful

Then suddenly it's hard to breathe

Now and then I get insecure

From all the pain

I'm so ashamed

I am beautiful no matter what they say

Words can't bring me down

I am beautiful in every single way

Yes, words can't bring me down, oh no

So don't you bring me down today”

Okay, you’re your own worst enemy. 

This would be my pile 😂 

Okay. We get it, you also have a lot to say like Pile 1. 

You have a constant internal monologue going on, you’re the star of your own movie. I sense The Star Card for this pile. You are dreamy, spiritual and weird. You’re obviously magical. There’s something strange about you. You are seriously different. You’re not what’s considered normal. You worry so much about whether you come across as normal or not but you don’t have to worry any longer cause I’m going to clarify it for you, you fucking don’t. You are weird. You do not conform to society’s expectations but not because you don’t want to, you just weren’t born to. Most who pick this pile wear makeup, false eyelashes, wigs, dye their hair, have acrylic nails…This is not to hide who you are but actually to accentuate it. You use vibrant colors and exaggerate your natural features so gorgeously! You go! You're not afraid to show your true face though. You’re seriously into skin care/self care/self love and it shows. You glow. Everyone acts weird around you. You’d be surprised why… it’s because you’re beautiful 😍 

I do not sense any denial or skepticism from this pile 

😆 

Everyone already knows �� 

It’s almost awkward 😐 

You do not value appearances whatsoever and this is your true beauty. I sense a lot of empaths in this pile that are just now discovering that they’re empaths maybe even because of this reading! 

You’re earthy. 

I sense a lot of dark skinned queens here. 

You’re a reader. You read books for sure but you read people too. You mind your own business and that’s beautiful too. Maybe you mind your business too much, people want more from you. They want to see you more, talk to you more, hear you laugh more and see you smile… You have many admirers. I mean tons. You had humble beginnings and that’s shaped you into who you are today. You are so mature, too mature. Some want you to relax more and have fun. Some are critical of you and want you to “act your age” they want to dumb you down to their level. They want to party with you, get you drunk and dance 🪩 

This is not anything like you. 

Ignore these kinds of individuals because they want to change you. This isn’t who you are, if it was then so be it. You’d rather curl up on your couch with a book and a cup of tea 🍵 so do that! 

This all sounds so good, then how are you your own problem?

 You’re stumped. 

You’re stagnant. 

A running theme in your life is waiting cause God is teaching you the virtue of patience my friend. 

Ground yourself. 

Notice everything. 

Get comfortable but remember to work hard now so you can relax later. 

Stop procrastinating. 

Do your best. 

You’re idolized behind closed doors. You light up this world. 

No one would know an angel like you could have been through hell but that’s the truth. The dark side of this reading is everything you’ve overcome. 

The color of this reading is bright green. Slime green like the swamp monster in the image. I see severe chronic incurable illness, sicknesses, nausea, actual vomit. There’s this disgusting and grossed out feeling I get. I get that you feel like a monster maybe cause you don’t “fit in” like I said. You cry about being a misfit. 

You put on a happy face. You hate showing people your vulnerabilities but you do so gracefully. You feel nervous a lot, like all the time pretty much. You stay on an even keel of worry. You feel like it’s hard being human, and it is so you try to overcompensate. Just chill out. Your overthinking is a gift and a curse you’ll learn. The present moment is a gift 🎁 so enjoy it. 

Energies: 

Gemini ♊️ 

Confidence 

Insecurity 

Acne 

Grease 

Iconic 

Makeup 💄 

The Present 

Reality Check 

Money 💰 

Plastic Surgery 

Shots 

Needles 💉 

Alcohol 🍷 

Mirror 🪞 

Lips 👄 

Mouth 

Voice 

Throat Chakra 

Sexuality 

Seduction 

Submission 

Scorpio ♏️ 

Scorpion 🦂 

Snake 🐍 

Mistake 

Self Harm 

Self Destructive Tendencies 

Junkie 

Addiction 

Flaws 

Weakness 

Pastel 

Accurate 

Monster 

Shadow Self 

Ego 

Virgo ♍️ 

Aquarius ♒️ 

Pile 3 Wishbone 

Song: If I Die Young By The Band Perry 

“If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Oh-oh, oh-oh”

I see red. 

I sense male/masculine energy. 

This pile likes my energy so that’s why you’re here. You like how I talk. We could be friends. Oh. 

You’re angry. 😡 

You’re into conspiracy theories and the apocalypse. You may be religious. You are dying to state your individuality against the other piles. 

You’re vulgar. You swear a lot. 

You’re like, “Fuck you, get to my pile!” 

You are into horror and gothic things. 

I see myself as a teenager so you must be pretty darn damaged. 

You speak negatively to yourself. You abuse yourself. 

You hate yourself. You feel like no one understands yet the ones who do are as bad as you and can’t help you but at least they make you feel less crazy, right?

This is a rough pile guys. 

I’m so sorry for who this is for. It’s definitely for my younger self. I’m having flashbacks. I’m uncomfortable. 

I have to be honest, this is the work of the devil. 

I bet if you are another pile scrolling down out of curiosity you probably could see it clearly but when you’re knee deep in it, you cannot see it and even act like it’s “cool” 

It isn’t. 

I don’t even know what to say. 

Someday you’ll realize why the devil was after your soul so bad, you’ll realize the richness of who you are and maybe you’ll turn around or maybe you won’t. 

I sense deep regret. Someone who’s eating their words and really anxious 😥 You absolutely beat yourself up. You cry a lot. 

You're young aren’t you? 

Just because I said male/masculine energy doesn’t mean some women cannot be involved… You on your period? I’m teasing but really, are you? 

I sense mars energy. 

Dark humor, sharp features and tall frames. Warrior souls, brown eyes and hardy laughs. A taste for spicy food, picky when it comes to partners and the moral compass of a saint. 

You may be scary on the outside but you're a little ray of sunshine on the inside, aren’t you? 

Seriously. You got a good soul. 

I sense Leo ♌️  energy. 

People want to be like you. 

You choose what you say very carefully. You tend to obsess about what you say. 

I sense a blocked throat chakra. 

You may have nightmares you’re choking, this is a result of it. 

Pray on it. 

Manifest it. 

Open it. 

You’re actually really loud. 

In energy and volume. 

You have massive energy. 

You may be big physically, if not then you wear wild outfits that get everyone looking & complimenting.

No matter what you look hot 🥵 and sexy. 

You get rid of people in your life if they cross you and now you’ve come to a point where there’s no one left. You’re devastated and lost all hope. 

You feel like an alien 👽 

This is how the devil wants you to feel

Hang on. 

Survive. Then thrive. 

God will give you opportunities to move on. I know you’re ashamed of yourself right now so move slow. 

Be a sloth 🦥 

You feel like a joke.

You also feel numb. 

I pray for you, I know you’ll be given a fair chance as I was. You just have to wait. 

All of our stories are different yet still similar. 

I felt like nothing could get through to me, but that was my story until God moved mountains. 

I was in a pathetic place so you should listen to my testimony. I was mad at the world until I realized I’m a part of it, that I matter. I realized not everything is as simple as it seems. We as beings are not as simple as we think we are. 

You are not “bad” like you say and think you are. You are the author of your own life. You're the writer but God is the editor. If you wanna be bad then be bad if you want to be good be good but the beautiful thing is that we all have different definitions of good and bad. 

So define yourself. Then you’ll be happy. 

Your demons are real and the literal devil is after your soul. Don’t panic. 🫨 

I sense that it’s just spiritual at this point. 

You’re not possessed (yet) 

Nothing is attached to you but the devil is attacking your subconscious. Either God is making you walk through hell (and it gets deeper my friend) or you’re trying to swim in the deep end, I trust you know which is which. (I know you do)

So if it is out of your control try to view it as a learning experience no matter how unbearable it may be (I have done this and it sorta helps) 

If it’s in your control, be vigilant. Stay aware. Remain observant. Question everything. Ponder existence. You will be rewarded. Expect change and you’ll be good. 👍 

Make decisions that make you happy.

Energies:

Aries ♈️ 

Resistance 

Stubborn 

Cross 

Religion 

The Holy Trinity 

Blood 🩸 

Bones 🦴 

Memories 

Crying 😭 

Weight Loss/Weight Gain 

Change 

Transformation 

Roses 🌹 

Encouragement 

Hormones 

Teenager 

Adolescence 

Leo ♌️ 

Lion 🦁 

Copy Cats 

Regret 

Mistake 

Redo 

Restart 

Delete 

Space 

Advice 

Friendship 

Guidance 

Similarities 

Red 

Summer 

[drinkabletoxicdishsoap]

the fandom’s characterization of peri becoming a father to dev will always be interesting to me because where it did it even come from ???

I mean in operation birthday takeback, bro CLEARLY did not care. He honestly seemed so disinterested and didn’t even care when they went into his dad’s private office by accident. He didn’t seem care or smile for his godkid when he was happy. Even got a little mean when Hazel made a nice wish for him with the rocket boots (“Well that should keep him entertained for about 10 minutes” or smth like that)

Lost in Fairy World he didn’t really seem to care either??? he really only just wanted his wand and to ‘look good’ in front of his godkid and do things his way without his parents interfering. Sort of like how a babysitter wants to look good in front of the family of the kid they’re looking after if that makes sense.

The only time we ever seen him actually care about dev was in the finale when he said that. But even after fairy world got turned to normal he didn’t really seem sad about dev??? he was just smiling after, seemed genuine too and not a fake one. Maybe it’s just me, but if I was a fairy and lost my first godkid, who took over my home, I would be doing anything BUT smiling, even if we won in the end. Peri doesn’t seem like one to hide his emotions easily either (maybe I’m reading into his character wrong)

You could bring up best of luck, which I would say is a fair point, but I’m going to bring back the babysitter/job synonym. Wouldn’t you get jealous of the person that stole your position or place in a work environment after you got fired?? Especially if your rival/enemy took that position?? I PERSONALLY don’t think the jealousy comes from a place of care, but maybe that’s just me.

It could honestly just be the fandom’s way of coping since Dev doesn’t seem to have any good people in his life after the finale, but why Peri? I mean if you really want to make one of the fairies a father figure to dev, I’d say the anti fairies more over are his family but that’s IF we have to choose.

Don’t get me wrong, I do think all of the peri and dev being a father son duo is super cute and heartwarming!! I love seeing all of the art and fics of that because it really is sweet :3 but to me, it just doesn’t really make sense and seems more out of character for Peri if anything.

He seems to care more about following Da Rules in my opinion. And while I do think it’s important to follow rules, especially when it comes to a job, you shouldn’t rely on them. At a job, you shouldn’t be constantly looking over rules to make sure you’re following them, you might end up tripping over yourself. That’s what Peri ended up doing.

If I assign the duo as anything, it would be the tired babysitter who just wants to get paid and the kid he’s looking after. A dude working a 9-5 at his job he couldn’t really care less about (dev).

I mean (only from his words) he wanted to go into the family business. Not because he genuinely cares for kids, but because it’s what his family has done. He’s treating godparenting as work, not stepping into a kids family and genuinely looking after them.

I do wonder if he would act the same way if he had an easier godkid.

BUT!!!! that’s just my thoughts. I’m sorry if I got anything wrong and feel me to correct me if I did !! Also if you disagree with anything that I’m saying, tell me why in either the replies or reblogs !! I would love to hear other people’s perspectives or opinions.

That’s it 😨 thank you so much for coming to another yap session and I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are in the world <3

[inuxi]

that ask was rude of me, i should've just blocked you instead of telling you about it, i'm sorry. i'm aroace and sex+romance repulsed, and i guess i thought alastor was gonna be something i could enjoy for once like everyone else gets to without feeling like i'm intruding on a conversation i have no right to be part of. i'm on ios so i can't use browser extensions to actually get rid of all the alastor ship posts like i want, and i'm not sure my problem even has a solution short of just giving up trying, because so far i have found exactly zero blogs that are 1.) still active at all, 2.) still post about Hazbin, 3.) aren't actually 12 years old, and 4.) don't post about fucking Alastor ships. i got so excited seeing such good, recent art i haven't nuked yet considering how old every other post i can still see is, and i'm not kidding when i say i sent that ask through tears. it was rude and unacceptable either way, and i'm sorry.

i've blocked over 200 different people and i'm not exaggerating that number even a little bit. i would rather put a gun to my head and pull the trigger myself than see them so much as breathe next to each other ever again. i am so. so so so so so sick of searching and searching and searching and finding nothing.

the thing i've learned from alastor's aroace representation is that not only is the world as a whole not made to accommodate me, fandom space isn't either. i am an alien on a planet i was never made to fit into, and i don't even get to escape that through fiction like everyone else does. no amount of filtering and blocking and searching will bring into existence a community for me that simply does not exist, and it is futile for me to try. that's what this fandom has taught me.

i think the chances of me sticking around in this fandom are slim, so at least it won't be an issue for anyone else anymore. i think being excluded from conversations about an aroace character sting a lot more than just not being represented at all to be honest.

Okay, listen.

First of all, Alastor is officially an Ace, NOT an aroace. That means he can still be interested in any romantic things or finding a couple. No one is stopping you from seeing him exclusively as an aroace. But shaming people who don't share your point of view is a bad idea.

Secondly, I am an aroace artist myself. Romantic and sexual themes are virtually non-existent in my art. I can joke about it, but almost all of my drawings explore completely different things. And you come to me and try to talk about how hard it is to feel socially comfortable being an aroace? I understand your worries, but, again, trying to shame other people because they don't share your point of view is NOT a healthy coping mechanism.

Third, I have done THREE drawings in all my time that include a romanticized Alastor. Two of them were collabs, and the third was asked to be drawn by people. And these three drawings made you give up on my art, which you said you really liked?

The community is too heavily oriented towards romantic and sexual themes, it's true. People like us are often uncomfortable in that environment, that's also true. But aroace people can't just come in and ban others from having fun just because we don't find that fun or interesting.

Man, I'm not even Alastor's artist! What the kind of Alastor shipper am I? And you picked me out of a thousand people to block? Oh my God, that's as funny as it is sad.

In case you haven't looked at my art, I am a Lucifer artist. I very rarely draw Alastor, simply because I don't find him interesting enough. And because of that, I find it so funny to be labeled an “Alastor shipper”