#Fiona Would Include

[forcebookish]

I'm just saying, you may not be the expert on this whole boy-girl thing.

Burn Notice: The Fall of Sam Axe (2011)

[swallowedabug]

Chucky 1.05 (2021)

[bunnygibson]

hunger hurts 🥫

[chevalierlagarce]

I'm know this sound hypocritical coming from me considering most of the stuff on my blog but I'm sure that both Ethel Cain and Fiona Apple hate a good chunk (wouldn't say the majority of their fandom but a significant and very loud part) of their fandom... So many of us behave in a way that Ethel Cain and Fiona apple have criticized and I feel kinda bad for them

like I don't think that Hayden is going "I love the way my fans are talking about dating older men and romanticizing their 3ds and other mental illnesses" lol (not a problem for me because I'm aroace but I do be romanticizing going to the great dark) and I don't think Fiona Apple is a big fan of the "I'm just a girl" thing that a weird amount of her new fans have been doing (and neither am I even if I do indulge in it)

I wonder how a part of their fandom can be so different from them and the views they hold and I think that this can be traced to how that part of the fandom tend to aestheticize their music and very rarely interact with their lyrics and interviews and what not.

once again I know how hypocritical this is coming from a blog that is mostly about my disordered eating but whatever

[popgirlshowdown]

also like i may do another showdown but for queens born before 1980.

[niofo]

thinking about that post abt wynne's age still. i certainly appreciate that we just casually have characters in their 40s in dai, like vivienne or blackwall, and no one's making a big deal of it, but i feel like there's even bigger missed opportunity with the advisors, yk.

like it was already said many times why cullen as the commander makes no sense and he has 0 required skillset, but imagine if we actually got some retired military commander in his place. like imagine a ferelden general who fought alongside loghain and maric, maybe was a bit older than they were then (bcos they were really young), so by the point of the 5th blight she already retired, she's no longer a powerful fighter, maybe even gathered some disabilities during her military career, but she still knows a lot of shit of how to command armies just fine, she doesn't have to swing her sword to do so. imagine how cool it would be, just this retired general and veteran advising on our military movements. maybe she'd have some unique dialogue lines if loghain is the warden in this worldstate. and instead of being bigoted towards the mages her character arc is about messing with orlesians and we can either endorse it or side with josie that come on, we can't be mean to those envoys even tho they're orlesian, it's not their fault.

[softersinned-arc]

you ever think about a character who just got so spectacularly fucked over by canon that you really don't know where to even start with making it right so you kind of just have to hold them in your hands and say "i love you so much and someday i'll do right by you" because

[demento]

open tag 👍

Not me having some kinda type... Who shall I tag? I think I wanna tagggggg... @mybugsmybugsmybugs @mexicangela @lunar-years @biscuitboxpink but no pressure!! I just thought it would be fun!

[fazcinatingblog]

a clip of blake freeman discussing his animal theory came up on my facebook feed so i watched it again and i reiterate this is the funniest thing i've ever heard besides cameron james' electric dreams show

[vigilskeep]

back and even bulkier with another powerpoint! i opted for spreading the information out in a hopefully engaging way over limiting the number of slides. the circle is a BIG, big topic, with such focus over the course of the games, so if i didn't cover anything useful, you want to know anything more specific, or equally if i made a mistake and missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know ily!!

transcript below the cut! my eternal thanks to @bisexualcommandershepard for providing one for the previous powerpoint and in doing so reminding me to get my act together, you have my sword

zevsurana’s guide to the circle of magi

can’t tell your circles from your chantries from your colleges from your conclaves? boy, do i have the powerpoint for you!

hit me with the basics

under the law of the orlesian chantry, every mage is required to join the circle

a mage who does not join the circle, or escapes one, is labelled an apostate, a crime punishable by death or tranquillity

tranquillity is the process by which mages are branded on the forehead, robbing them of their emotions and magic

at the end of their apprenticeship, each mage is taken without warning to their harrowing. they must choose between being sent into the fade for a dangerous test against possession, or tranquillity.

it is illegal to make harrowed mages tranquil, but they are still required to live under the circle’s supervision

depending on which text you believe, there are 14 or 15 circles under orlais’ chantry.

[this slide is accompanied by an image of a map of thedas. there are small markers spread across the map on 12 locations, mostly in orlais and the free marches, but included everywhere except tevinter and seheron.]

these are the known locations!

i didn’t include starkhaven’s, which was destroyed in a fire at the start of da2, or jainen’s, which is mentioned in an online game but as another circle in ferelden makes the dao plot make no sense. i suppose that would have gotten us up to 14 but i’m not doing it. cope

hierarchy of the circle

there are six ranks:

the grand enchanter is the mages’ direct representative to the divine. in our time, this is grand enchanter fiona, who famously stated “fuck the divine”

the first enchanter leads each circle. theoretically, their permission is needed for a mage to leave the tower, for a harrowing, and for a mage to be made tranquil. in practice, their actual power depends hugely on their political skill and their corresponding knight-commander

the senior enchanters are the most experienced mages in a circle, and advise the first enchanter, who will select one of them as their successor

those who have gained the rank of enchanter (also known as junior enchanters) are now expected to mentor apprentices

the simple rank of mage designates those who have passed their harrowing. an inhabitant of the circle fully capable of magic might say “i’m not a mage, just an apprentice”

the apprentices are children and young adults who have not yet completed their harrowing

outside of this hierarchy are the tranquil. they instead belong to the ‘formari’, who perform enchantment and sell enchanted items to produce the circle’s wealth

(it’s really important to me that you know the different ranks usually have different coloured robes to mark them out. i can’t explain that all here because it varies from circle to circle and we don’t have all the data but i think that’s so fun that i have to point it out even though it makes this slide super crowded i hate it i’m sorry)

politics of the circle: what are those first enchanters even doing?

an ideal first enchanter should govern their circle as a quasi-parental figure who can protect their mages while maintaining an uneasy balance and accord with the templars

they are also an administrator managing their circle’s finances

a weak or unskilled first enchanter can spell doom for their circle just as much as one at odds with their knight-commander

the college of magi is a council of all first enchanters

the college regularly meets in cumberland, nevarra, to discuss circle policy and elect the grand enchanter from among them

politics of the circle: what’s this about frat boys?

once a mage achieves the rank of enchanter, they may join a political fraternity

choose your fighter:

the largest fraternity, the aequitarians, are centrists

the loyalists are chantry bootlickers

the libertarians seek greater power and independence for the circle. the resolutionists are an even more radical group that emerged from them

the isolationists wish mages to withdraw from society completely

the lucrosians prioritise the accumulation of wealth and influence

the aequitarians maintained an alliance with the loyalists until the final vote to rebel, when wynne’s son rhys, asked to represent the aequitarians by first enchanter irving, voted with the libertarians

that was a lot of politics.

let’s take a breather because we haven’t even gotten to history yet oh boy

[this slide is accompanied by two pieces of dragon age concept art of white-haired mage women casting spells. one is an older human white woman who may be wynne, dressed in ornate robes and casting purple magic with a casually imperious gesture. the other is the concept art for warden surana, an angry-looking young elven white woman with a palm full of icy magic.]

hot circle mage concept art break. of course you have white hair and [caps lock begins] one thousand points lightning damage-- [caps lock ends]

but where do circles come from, i hear you cry

well, when two semi-circles love each other very much,

the year is 1:20 divine, and our questionable hero is kordillus drakon…

the circles had existed long before this, of course, in a very different form: elite tevinter academic societies

but right now, the south is in chaos. the first inquisition’s reign is coming to a close. the second blight is fifteen years underway with no sign of stopping any time soon, and will rage until 1:95 divine

kordillus drakon, the very first emperor of orlais, has a budding empire and a budding chantry that look like they might die in the cradle… unless he can continue enlisting mages against the darkspawn

we may wish to take a moment to register that kordillus drakon apparently looked like this. Sure.

[this slide is accompanied by concept art of kordillus drakon. he is blond white man in vaguely iron age dress, with an interesting hair cut including bangs, a high half ponytail and a very large moustache. he wears a swamp-green cloak and a black fur pelt over a green and white striped tunic, with a hand-axe slung through his belt, and crossed garters over whatever combination boots and pants he's wearing, which seems to be one singular garment.]

the solution to drakon's problem?

the nevarran accord

“what do video game enjoyers love? fantasy historical treaties? yeah, probably” – bioware, constantly

and they’re right unless you’re a joyless hater

the nevarran accord was agreed between the newly formed chantry and the original inquisition in 1:20 divine

the people of the south feared magic, but they also wanted to be able to use its power against great threats like the darkspawn

in one move, the circle of magi, the seekers of truth, and the templar order were created

some mages considered the circle a refuge in a world full of terror. to others, it was a prison

but this is dragon age, so maker forbid we would only be told one version of events

there is also a codex entry called ‘history of the circle’

it describes the mages of the divine age as chafing under being allowed to do little more than light candles and lamps for the chantry… as if there wasn’t a fucking blight going on

in protest, mages snuffed out the eternal flame in the grand cathedral at val royeaux, and barricaded themselves in the choir loft. divine ambrosia ii attempted to call an exalted march on her own cathedral, but even her templars discouraged her

shouted negotiations were conducted for 21 days before the mages “went cheerily into exile” in a remote fortress, separated from society into the circle for “the first time”

nerd's note:

personally, i would understand this as the circle as an organisation being created with the accord in 1:20 divine, and the mages being relegated to this lesser role after the greatest battles against the darkspawn, with the establishment of circle of magi towers after the protest. there’s no date of events on this codex, but since it mentions templars, it has to have been post-accord.

i would also take this account with a grain of salt in-world, as it was written by sister petrine, a controversial writer to the chantry, but nonetheless a chantry scholar.

this has been a lot of chatter about mages. but there’s an elephant in the room, and it’s looking at us suspiciously…

the circle and the templar order

the circle does supposedly have nominal independence from the chantry…

Knight-Commander Greagoir: I promised you aid, but with the Circle restored, my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you, however. Warden: I thought the templars were in charge of the Circle. Knight-Commander Greagoir: The templars guard and advise, but the first enchanter has the last word in what happens in the Circle.

...

Warden: Won’t the Circle of Magi do what the Chantry says? Alistair: Technically the Circle of Magi is independent. We don’t know that the Chantry won’t support us, of course. Morrigan: You truly believe that? Alistair: If we speak to the First Enchanter, he should see that his responsibility to the Grey Wardens supersedes anything the Chantry or even Teyrn Loghain might have to say about it.

… but since when has power ever gone where it’s supposed to?

as world of thedas volume 1 explains, “Although the Circle is supposed to be autonomous, a heavy Templar presence in all Circle towers has effectively made the organisation an arm of the Chantry for ages.”

a first enchanter can quickly lose all the power they allegedly hold

even in the best of times with a skilful, well-intentioned first enchanter, templars reserve the right to send mages to the dungeons, to take away their children, to kill any who leave the circle, etc. as a matter of course

grand clerics reserve the right to grant the right of annulment

generally, the system is maintained by a mutual interest in avoiding open conflict

the templars are the ones in power with the chantry’s full support. if they drive the mages to open conflict, their comfortable routine is uprooted

templars are equipped to hunt down individual mages, even blood mages and abominations

templars are not equipped to be outnumbered or face even numbers. mages are simply far more powerful in a fair fight than they are. lyrium can only do so much

...

mages, meanwhile, operate under the not entirely unfounded belief that the outside world is entirely hostile to them

at least if they remain, they can keep an uneasy balance in which most mages survive, their existence tolerated by the chantry. they can continue studying among their own kind in the only home they know

if they openly rebel, they may throw aside what limited protections and goodwill they have. mages like wynne outright state certainty that if they rebel, “genocide” will follow

furthermore, those mages with more status have more access to privilege. they’re also the ones who have best passed the chantry’s tests. thus, those in a position to lead are least inclined to rebel

you only rebel against the circle because you think less of your children are going to die starting a war than they are in here.

and, uh, on that cheery note… any questions from the class?

[dire-vulture]

ok so decided to look into things closer in regard to the skuttle situation and have found even worse news. neither form is the best spelling!

If you look up skuttle you'll see its an archaic version of scuttle..including the coal chute definition. but upon closer look...

the spelling 'scuttle' is still the original spelling! all the previous forms were spelt with 'sc' as it's from latin. it looks like skuttle was just a misspelling in the 1800s that got common enough to be acceptable at one point. but the etymology still doesnt match the insect meaning. it turns out for that one you have to scroll to etymology 3...

where the original form was actually.. scuddle. with d's. it comes from the old english word scud (meaning 'to move quickly'). it just ended up merged with scuttle because they were pronounced similarly fdgsdfg so skuttle is just wrong in every way!!!! whyyy

and the disney character thing also makes no sense otherwise flight rising would not be able to use 'stitch' or 'beast' or 'arlo' or 'fiona' or whatever else omg

[floraleevee]

New Car is fucking GEEN

Thinking of naming them Achilles because 1. Greek mythology 2. I 💚 homosexuals and 3. simply for that post that went around where someone put a pic of cold-pressed olive oil next to the description of Achilles’ skin in Song of Achilles

(not what traditionally pressed olive oil looks like)

NO LONGER CAR-LESS

[lyn-1225]

Hospital visit

Pairing: Carl Gallagher x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, hospital, ambulance, emotions, dehydration, slight starvation. I think that’s it.

Word count: 4000 to 5000

A/n: I had a good time writing this :) the idea of this imagine popped up in my head and I immediately started writing it. I think it turned out pretty good.

——————————————————————

Your POV:

“Hello there Franny” I speak in a baby voice towards the baby sitting in her chair in front of me.

I continue feeding her the smushed baby carrots that I’ve somehow got her to enjoy.

Before she wouldn’t even go near them, but according to Debbie ever since I’ve started babysitting her, her taste for them has changed.

Being carls girlfriend meant being best friends with all of his siblings.

I was lucky enough for them to like me.

We were friends long before we got together, so I pretty much knew the Gallaghers as much as Carl did. I mean I practically grew up with them.

When me and Carl announced that we were together the entire family supported it.

I practically lived there as well.

My parents loved the Gallaghers. When they would be in Chicago we would all often times have small cookouts.

They go away a lot due to their large business that they own. Which meant that I would stay at the Gallaghers a lot for good amounts of time. Including now.

My parents never questioned where I was because they always knew I was at the Gallaghers.

Their home was my home.

“Hey” carl smiles leaning down to place a small sweet kiss on my forehead.

“Hi babe” I smile closing my eyes as his lips meet my skin.

Once his lips leave my forehead, I open my eyes looking up at him through my eyelashes.

He has a smile on his face as he stares back at me. He puts a hand on my right shoulder as he walks over to the empty seat to the left of me at the table.

He takes a seat lingering his hand on my shoulder a few more seconds before taking it off.

“Eat, then school” Fiona demand placing a plate of bacon, eggs, and a bagel in front of him.

“You too” she says placing one in front of me as well.

“Ya, ya” I roll my eyes in fake annoyance, turning back towards Franny when she starts to fuss.

Placing the baby food down, I pick Franny up and out of her chair rocking her back and forth making sure her head is supported.

Carl stares at me with a glint in his eye. He adores me with kids.

“I have to go. I have a test first thing today” I frown placing Franny back into her chair.

I grab my school bag from off the floor before walking over to Carl who is stuffing his face with bacon.

“Bye guys” I smile placing a kiss to carls head before opening the back door.

“Bye y/n!” Everyone yells when the door closes shut.

School was easy for me. I was scheduled to graduate one year earlier than the rest of my class which made all my friends and family proud of me. Carl being the most proud considering he wasn’t the best in school.

His thought process was that there only needed to be once smart person in the relationship and that of course was me. I didn’t object although I would constantly yell at him saying that he is smart as well.

He knew things that I didn’t know most times. Mostly when it came to common sense stuff. I wasn’t very good with that.

-time skip brought to you by Sammi the snitch-

This school week has been really fucking busy.

It seems like I never really had time to do the things I normally like to do.

Of course i still have time to hang out with Carl and babysit for Debbie, but anything beyond that was out of the question. Since it was nearing the end of school tests and final grades were starting to stress me out.

Carl has tried to help me with studying and relieve my stress but no matter what, the stress isn’t gonna go away until I know I’ve passed everything.

“Thanks for the ride home Lip” I thank getting out of the backseat of the car. Carl gets out on the other side as well dragging his backpack out with him.

“It’s not problem” Lip said taking a hit from the cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth.

“Have a good time with hacking shit” I yell back to him as me and Carl make our way to the front door hand in hand.

“Yup!” Lip yells back driving off down the road.

Me and Carl smile and laugh as we open the front door and walk in practically throwing our school bags somewhere else in the living room.

“I can’t wait till all of this shit is over” I sigh landing onto the couch, my muscles finally relaxing.

I finally was able to relax without having to worry about studying. At least for right now. I still had at least two more tests to study for. Those fortunately were next week. After that I’m free.

“Me neither” Carl agrees landing next to me with a loud huff. He rolls on top of me getting rid of any little space we had between us.

I start to laugh when he drags his hands up my sides. He starts to tickle me making me laugh even harder.

“No god please” I laugh tears brimming the edge of my eyes. I try to move out of his grip but fail immensely due to the fact that he was stronger than me. 

“Do you give up?” Carl asks stopping his actions against my sides.

Getting an idea in my head I suddenly wrap my arms around his neck dragging his body into the position I was just in. I then grab his hands pinning them above his head.

I stratal his waist making sure he couldn’t go anywhere. The shock in his face makes me laugh as I let go of his hands slightly sitting down on his thighs.

“Do you?” I sass crossing my arms over my chest. He smiles at our position eyes wandering over my body.

“Not yet” he says, suddenly picking me up from of the couch so that he’s standing while my legs are wrapped around his waist.

“Holy shit” i yell out of surprise. He throws me onto the couch again before lightly jumping on top of me. He keeps my hands above my head now with his face just mere inches away from me. My eyes are wide at the very sudden maneuver.

“You tired yet?” He asks touching the tip of my nose with his. My vision goes black for a split second before it comes back, a wave of dizziness following shortly after.

What the hell.

I shake me head to try and rid myself of the dizziness in my head. Of course me shaking my head made it slightly worse.

The weight of Carl leaning over me lessens as he sits straight up looking at me with a confused expression.

“You okay” Carl asks waiting for me to respond. The dizziness slightly subsides the room still slightly blurry.

“Ya I’m alright” i say using my best reassuring voice. I look up at him to see if he believes me or not. At first he seemed unsure but then he decided that my answer was good enough for him to trust.

“Alright” he smiles getting off of my lap before walking away from me into the kitchen. The sound of the refrigerator door opening can be heard.

He rummages for something before closing the door and walking back into the living room. He hands me one of the coke bottles in his hand before sitting next to me. He takes the remote from off the coffee table turning on the tv.

He turns it to a show that interests him before looking over to me to see if I was ok with what he picked. I nod my head at him giving him the okay. He smiles at me before tapping my leg with a gentle hand.

Raising my eye brows I look at him waiting for him to tell me what he wants to say. He points to the drink in my hand basically asking why I haven’t drank from it yet.

“Ohh right” I say un-capping the cold bottle taking a small drink of the cold bubbly liquid.

He nods his head smiling at me before turning back to the tv.

We sit there for a few minutes when the front door suddenly swings open making me jump and Carl stand up out of defense. He runs in front of me to shield me from any sort of intruder that could be breaking into the house.

Fiona walks through the door way trying to carry a large amount of grocery bags. If it weren’t for me running to help her she probably would have dropped at least 3 of the bags that were barely hanging off her fingers.

“Thank you” Fiona sighs walking through the living room and to the kitchen. I follow behind carrying the bags I offered to help with. Carl follows behind me after closing the door behind Fiona.

“Of course” I smile placing the bags on the kitchen table so that I could help unload them.

“You don’t have to do that” she says opening cupboards and drawers while unpacking the bags she set down.

“It’s really no problem. I love helping” I smile handing a few things to Carl so that he could help out as well.

“What’s up everybody” Kevin yells from the front door followed by Veronica’s voice telling him to quiet down.

“Hey kev, hi V” Fiona says handing a few things to V so that she could put them away.

“Hi” I smile taking the bread and the flour out of the bag placing them on the table.

“What’s up little ones” Kev asks coming over to me and Carl rubbing our heads. I swat his hand away laughing at his father like structure.

Kev and V were just as much family to me as the Gallaghers were. I would often babysit Jemma and Amy as well.

“I would avoid the Alibi for awhile” Kev commented taking a seat at the table.

“Why” Fiona asked looking up from the bags placing her hands on the counter.

“Franks made that his hot spot for the weird group of kids he somehow got to call him daddy Frank” V responds opening the refrigerator door placing a gallon of milk on the shelf.

“Ew” I fake gag grabbing the flour bringing it over to V before handing it to her. She gladly takes it from me placing it in the upper cabinet next to the other baking supplies.

Carl laughs at me taking the bread over to where Fiona was standing. “I will definitely avoid it then” Fiona rolled her eyes taking the bread from Carl placing it next to her.

“Where’s Debbie?” I ask folding up the bags that were empty so that we could keep them for later just in case.

“Her, Franny, Liam, and Lip are off doing god knows what, and Ian is at work” Fiona says folding up the bags that she emptied out.

“Makes sense” I nod handing the folded bags to Fiona.

The dizziness suddenly comes back making me slightly stumble into the counter. The room starts to spin, the grip I have on the counter tightening.

“Y/n honey are you ok” V asks walking over to me with worry in her eyes. This sentence gains everyone’s attention as all of their eyes meet my unstable body.

“Ya I um. I think I’m just tired” I say squeezing my eyes shut for a second before opening them back up.

The room still spins as I slowly lean off the counter making my way slowly to the stairs.

Suddenly my entire body feels weak as I collapse onto the floor. My eyes continually get more and more blurry and the room continues spinning.

Right then and there my vision goes black.

Carls POV:

The worry in my mind from before renters when I hear V ask y/n if she’s ok.

She did this before on the couch. Something was wrong. She was gripping the counter with a grip I didn’t think she had.

“Ya I um. I think I’m just tired” she said before walking over towards the stair case. I wasn’t fooled. She wasn’t ok and I knew it.

Out of no where she collapsed to the floor. My instincts kicked in as I ran to her side. “Fuck” I say looking at her face. V runs over next pressing her fingers on her wrist to see if she had a pulse.

Tears start to brim my eyes as I start to think about the fact that my girlfriend was passed out on our kitchen floor. “She has a pulse” V yells moving her hands to her face.

“Call for an ambulance!” Kev yells immediately taking out his phone so that he could call the others. Fiona grabs her phone slightly crying at what’s going on. “I need an ambulance right away” Fiona cries telling the operator on the phone all the info they needed.

I place my hand in y/ns hand squeezing it as if a way to reassure myself that she’ll be alright. “Wake up, please wake up” I plead as V tries shaking her a bit to see if she’d wake up.

Sirens can be heard outside of the house when the front door flies open to reveal Ian and another paramedic.

“What happened” Ian yelled running over to the side of y/n that V was at.

“What does it look like dip shit she passed out” I yell. I didn’t mean to be rude I was just really worried for her.

Ian carries her out of the house placing her in the gurney that was sitting just outside. I run out of the house with him making sure I didn’t get to far away from her.

“Can I come with” I plead looking at Ian and the woman that is with him. “Paramedics only” she says as he pushes the gurney into the back of the ambulance.

Your POV:

The sound of sirens fill my ears as my eyes start to slowly open. A quick flash of a light goes over my eyes. My vision becomes more clear as I see Ian in his paramedic uniform waving a thin flashlight in front of my eyes.

I look around at my surroundings realizing that I was in an ambulance. Seeing my body strapped to the gurney makes me freak out a little bit. I look around frantically trying to find any sort of reason why I’d be in there.

“Y/n calm down your okay” Ian says taking my head in his hands turning it towards him. “You passed out” he explains yelling something to the driver that I didn’t understand.

“We’re taking you to the hospital to do some tests” he says placing his fingers on my wrist. He yells something else about my pulse before taking it off my wrist.

“Where’s Carl?” I ask looking at Ian worry lacing my voice. I try to move my body but the restraints around my upper body makes it extremely difficult.

“Everyone’s ok they’ll all be at the hospital when you get out of testing” he reassures me before the ambulance comes to an abrupt stop.

The doors swing open as the woman driving takes the bottom end of the gurney while Ian takes the front. They roll me out of the back making sure I get into the emergency room safely.

The woman speaks to the doctors and nurses in some sort of doctor talk that I couldn’t comprehend.

I look towards Ian fear evident in my face as I silently ask what they are talking about. He looks back at me with a hand on my shoulder.

“There gonna place you in a room and do tests to see what happened” Ian explains rubbing my shoulder as a female doctor comes to my side. She escorts me to another room helping me switch from the gurney to the actual bed.

Both were extremely uncomfortable but I guess I didn’t really have a choice.

Carls POV:

Me, Fiona, Debbie, Lip, Liam, Franny, Veronica, and Kev run into the emergency room asking the people at the front millions of questions.

I pace around the room questions and worry filling my head.

Please god let her be ok

Kev and V walk over to me leading me over to the waiting room just off the side of the front desks.

“What’d they say” I asked Fiona running up to where she was sitting at a chair. She looks up at me with just as much worry as I had. “She didn’t say anything. She said to wait for a doctor” Fiona sighs placing her hands over her head.

“Fuck” I yell gaining the attention of all of the other people in the waiting room. Lip pulls me back into a chair wrapping his left arm around my shoulders. In a way it was comforting but the thought of her being in a hospital room was to large in my mind.

“She’ll be ok” Debbie says to me holding Franny up to her chest rocking her back and forth to keep her from freaking out.

I nod my head slowly tears coming to my eyes. “God I hope so” I say rubbing my hands down my legs.

Your POV:

A nurse and a doctor came in just as soon as I got in the room starting to tell me about all the tests they were gonna do on me.

Being completely honest at the time I wasn’t even paying attention to what they were saying. I was just worried about what everyone was thinking and how worried Carl was.

A few tests later the nurse walked in carrying a pink clip board. She had dark brown hair that was tied up into a tight ponytail. Her eyes glowed of brown.

“Hello miss y/l/n” she said sweetly walking over to the monitors hooked up to me.

“So it looks like everything looks good I just have a few questions for you if that alright with you” she asks looking down at me.

I nod my head still scared at the fact that I was all alone having to deal with the scary topics.

“When was the last time you ate or drank” she asks taking a pen out of her shirt pocket.

I think back to the small sip of coke that I had with Carl.

“I had a small sip of coca-Cola earlier today around 3 ish” I say trying to think back on what else I drank or ate.

Now that I think about it I haven’t eaten anything in 3 days. I haven’t drank anything in a few days either.

“The last time I ate or drank before that was, I think three days ago” I say looking up at her as she writes all of this information on her clipboard.

“Ok this is all great information. I’ll be back with the results of what’s going on” she smiles walking back over to the wide open door. “Thank you” I say her smiling at me before leaving to go speak with my doctor I assume.

A few minutes pass when a bunch of footsteps come running down the hall. Carl bursts into the room immediately running to my side.

Just as excited as him I wrap my wired arms around him letting tears of joy fall from my eyes. “I missed you so much” I cried tightening my already tight grip around him.

He tightens his grip too being careful of all of the wires attached to my body.

“I’m so glad your ok” he says pulling away from the hug to hold my face in his hands.

“I’m okay” I reassure him pulling his hands away from my face and into mine.

I look around the room to see everyone standing around looking at me with tears in their eyes. I didn’t realize until now just how much all of them really cared about my health and well being.

“I’m so glad to see you guys” I say leaning up on my bed. They all take turns hugging me of course Liam giving me the longest one. I’ve always had a connection with him. He’s always thought of me as a big sister.

The same nurse from before walks in slightly surprised to see the amount of people around.

“Well hello there” she chuckles walking over to the side of me that Carl wasn’t at. “I’m assuming your all her family” she says pointing towards me with her pen.

“Yes” Fiona immediately says making me smile.

I like that.

Family.

“Ok so we have the tests back and we found the cause on why she passed out today” she looks at me giving me a reassuring smile.

Fiona nods her head waiting for the nurse to explain the circumstances. Carl rubs my hand staring intently at the nurse just across from him.

“So the blood work came back normal. The only thing is that we had to start a drip for her because when she came in she was dehydrated” the nurse explains. 

“That’s the main reason she passed out but another factor could be that she hasn’t eaten anything in a few days” she says telling everything to the people around me.

Carl looks at me with sadness in his eyes realizing that all the work I’ve been doing for the past few days has occupied my mind so much to the point where I forgot to eat and drink.

“After the drip is gone and she has something to eat, and we do some more blood tests she’ll be good to go home” the nurse smiles checking the monitor next to me.

“I’ll leave you guys to it” she say walking back to the door. “Thank you so much” Fiona says looking to the nurse.

“Of course” she says walking back out of the room.

Everyone turns to me making me shrink down in my hospital bed. I hated this attention.

“I’ve been so stressed with school lately that I guess I forgot to do simple tasks such as eat and drink” I whisper looking down at me and carls intertwined fingers.

“Y/n we’re not mad. We’re just worried that’s all” Fiona says walking over to my other side placing a soft hand to my shoulder.

I nod my head feeling grateful that they weren’t mad.

We all sit around in the room talking about anything and everything as we wait for any sort of news from the nurse.

The room I was in didn’t have enough chairs so a few of the nurses had to bring in other chairs from a storage room.

Carl continued to sit next to me keeping his hand in mine the entire time.

A different nurse walked in carrying a plate of hospital food placing it off the the side at the small table next to Carl.

“Here’s your dinner sweetie” she says handing me a cup of water. “Thank you” I smile taking a long sip of the drink.

She walked back out of my room with a grin on her face. I look over towards Carl silently eyeing the food right next to him. He gets the hint taking the cover off of the food before silently asking me to sit up.

I sit up placing the extra pillow I had onto my lap so that the plate could rest on something. He places the plate onto the pillow making sure not spill anything onto me.

The food consisted of chopped up potato with some broccoli and some sort of pasta.

“Yum hospital food” i scrunch my face up with a tight lipped smile. Carl chuckles handing me a fork that the nurse left for me.

I take the fork from him before taking bites of the food in front of me.

To be honest it wasn’t as bad as I thought.

Everyone smiles when I start to eat making sure to engage in conversation to make it seem like they weren’t all waiting for me to eat.

Once I’ve finished the food and drank all the water the nurse from before that brought me the food came back to pick up everything that was left.

I left no food on the plate which made everyone including me feel happy. I go through a few cups of water, immediately making me feel better than earlier that day.

The nurse that told me and the others what happened walks back into the room a smile brighter than the lights in the room. “Okay so I have amazing news” she says coming over to the monitors.

“As long as you sign the papers she can go home as soon as possible” she says taking off any wires on my body that weren’t currently in me.

Fiona started signing the papers accepting anything she had to accept and writing any information she needed to write.

The nurse who’s name I found out was Emily started to take out my empty IV which signaled that I could leave as soon as I got changed out of the hospital gown.

With carls help I got out of the bed making sure to hold the back of the gown closed. I don’t need anyone seeing me from behind in my underwear.

Carls chuckle fills my ears when he sees what I’m doing with the gown. I glare at him grabbing my clothes before walking into the bathroom that was attached to the room.

I change back into my clothes walking back into the room feeling like a whole new person even though I was extremely tired.

The paper work gets turned into the front desk meaning I could go back home. The home that Carl and my family lived in.

Ian was standing outside now out of his uniform waiting for all of us. “How are you” ian asks coming over to me to look at me. “I’m doing good thanks to you” I smile wrapping my arms around him. He hugs me back rubbing my back with his hand.

“Come on let’s get you home” he says walking me over to the car. I get into the back seat Carl getting in right next to me.

There was two cars outside so that everyone would be able to get home safely without having to all cram into one car.

Lip gets into the driver seat as Ian gets into the passenger seat. Me, carl, and Liam sit in the back placing our seatbelts on. Liam was already sleeping against the window next to me.

I was sitting in the middle, Liam to my right, Carl to my left.

I let my body lean into Carl my head falling to his shoulder. The darkness outside flows passed as the car starts to head towards their house.

Carl kisses my forehead leaning his head on mine before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again” he demands pulling me in tighter to his side. “I won’t” I say cuddling into his side.

The streetlights pass by making this moment even more perfect than it already was.

——————————————————————

A/n: Hi everyone! I hope you liked this imagine. If you have a request don’t hesitate to send it my way. I will try my best to get to it as soon as I can. Thank you for reading and I hope that you read my other ones as well!

Have a great day everyone!!

[magz]

The book "The Long Covid Survival Guide" might be something magz audience would find useful.

The Long COVID Survival Guide:

How to Take Care of Yourself and What Comes Next

Stories and Advice from Twenty Long-Haulers and Expertsby Fiona Lowenstein

The first patient-to-patient guide for people living with Long COVID—with expert advice on getting diagnosed, dealing with symptoms, accessing resources and accommodations, and more “The Long COVID Survival Guide aims to give people struggling with long COVID practical solutions and emotional support to manage their illness.”—NPR, It’s Been a Minute

For people living with Long COVID, navigating the uncharted territory of this new chronic illness can be challenging. With over two hundred unique symptoms, and with doctors continuing to work toward a cure, people experiencing Long COVID are often left with more questions than answers.

A support group in book form, The Long COVID Survival Guide is here to help. Twenty contributors—from award-winning journalists, neuroscientists, and patient-researchers to corporate strategists, activists, and artists—share their stories and insight on topics including:

getting diagnosed finding a caregiver confronting medical racism and gaslighting navigating employment issues dealing with fatigue and brain fog caring for your mental health, and more.

This vital resource provides the answers and reassurance you need, to take care of yourself and prepare for what comes next.

Contributors: Karyn Bishof, JD Davids, Pato Hebert, Heather Hogan, Monique Jackson, Naina Khanna, Lisa McCorkell, Karla Monterroso, Dona Kim Murphey, Padma Priya, David Putrino, Yochai Re’em, Rachel Robles, Alison Sbrana, Chimére L. Smith, Letícia Soares, Morgan Stephens, and Terri L. Wilder

The link has more information and more places to buy it. It is available as Physical book and E-book. It was published on November 8, 2022.

The price averages $18.95 U.S. & $24 Canadian.

Quick Links though.

Where to buy: Amazon. Bookshop. Better World Books. Books-A-Milion

Free E-Book File Download (for those who can't viably access, have it delivered to where live, or pay)

[xalygatorx]

Back into a Pumpkin | Alastor x Shameless!Fiona!Reader

Requested by @skyfuldreamer (Tumblr's not letting me tag in the usual way for some reason, so I hope this works)

Also on AO3

Summary: On the day you're supposed to secure yourself to Alastor in unholy matrimony, an unexpected and unwelcome guest arrives to dredge up the past you've tried to hide from him.

Warnings: Shame (ironic?), language, reader has a past of drugs and prostitution and a heart of gold, parental abuse (verbal, brief physical in the current story but a past of physical while the reader and said parent were alive) and neglect, Alastor feels moderately inconvenienced that you won't let him kill your cruddy mom LOL, AFAB reader, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: It might be apparent idk but I've yet to watch Shameless, so this is a quick character research job. :') I do have an ongoing crush on Emmy Rossum though, so that's helped me power through. Hope you enjoy. x

You'd made your peace a long time ago about never telling Alastor the full breadth of the life you led topside. The life you led before you'd died, fallen into Hell, and were actually given license to live for yourself the first time…dead.

You've had a complicated existence at best.

But that's all behind you now. Today, you're getting married.

Let's get one thing clear, you weren't surprised to end up in Hell after dying. You were surprised it existed at all, to be honest, but you weren't surprised that was where you were tossed after being rejected at the pearly gates. You'd done a lot in life to accrue your fair share of sins and, apparently but also not surprisingly, the "why" behind those sins didn't factor in.

You weren't kind to your body, but neither was anyone else. You smoked, you drank, you hit harder drugs to cope for a while, and then got painstakingly clean, remaining so by the skin of your teeth—whatever that saying meant. Your body was riddled with poison by the time you went.

Not only that, but you let other people use you the way you used drugs. For a price. A price that wasn't quite respectable, but it was enough to make sure your little brothers and sisters had lunches to take to school, new backpacks that wouldn't fall apart in the middle of the hall like yours had in fifth grade, and a shot at life you weren't given.

You weren't ashamed for doing what you had to in order to give them that. For the rest, yes—you still carried that shame with you everywhere you went. Including up the hill to the Hazbin Hotel, where you'd checked in as a resident when being out in Hell's general population with every available narcotic imaginable nearly caused you to relapse.

You'd met the Princess of Hell there—Charlie Morningstar. She'd welcomed you with open arms and a glowing smile. You'd also met her partner, the rest of her staff, and the other guests.

One member of management had been late to the scene of your arrival—he'd been mid-broadcast at the time—and had instead scared the afterlife out of you by materializing right outside your door as you were leaving to go downstairs for dinner. He'd apologized (laughingly), but to this day you were sure he'd done it on purpose.

Back then, you would've never guessed that your heartstopping introduction to the Radio Demon would become anything else. Much less an actual, real relationship. Something you'd never really had for any length of time while you were alive. You'd either not had the bandwidth to handle a relationship, your "side hustles," your legal work, and your kids (siblings) or the men you'd tried dating hadn't had the wherewithal to stick around for you after they learned about your past.

After you'd died, that past was something you'd wanted to leave buried with you on Earth. So you started completely over with a fresh slate and you never told anyone about the life you'd led before. Not even Alastor.

And now, on your wedding day, it's all you can think of.

Maybe because, if you'd done this while alive, your family would be here. You were glad the kids weren't here, of course—they'd have to be dead to attend this ceremony. But, if you were alive, you'd get to have your family around you to celebrate. The family you'd pulled from the gutter yourself. The one you wished every day that you had some way to check on.

You just hoped they were okay. That was the only thing you wanted.

Then again, there were perks to this not taking place while you were still alive. Because with every nice family experience comes the not-nice ones. And there was a reason you'd had to go to such lengths to provide for your siblings—you'd called that reason "Mom" up until you were probably fifteen or sixteen.

Up until she left on benders and only came back when there was a check to cash in. Up until your youngest siblings started calling you "Mom" because they'd hardly been around their birthmother as they grew and developed personalities of their own. Up until you stopped wishing that she'd step up so you could have a shot at a life of your own, at picking goals that didn't just pertain to keeping food in the fridge and the electricity on, and instead just wished she'd stay away once and for all.

You shake off the feeling and it disrupts Vaggie's careful lacing of your corset-style dress from Rosie's. "Sorry," you quickly murmur.

"It's fine, I'm almost done," she tells you and, true to her word, she finishes off her work with a neat little bow and steps back. "There!"

You do an experimental wiggle that she laughs at you for and turn to look at yourself in the mirror nearby. She's done a great job—so did Rosie when she designed this dress. You would've worn a potato sack if it meant you could marry Alastor, but he'd insisted that you have something special for the big day.

You also weren't entirely sure that Rosie would've ever forgiven him had he not allowed her to pitch in and had a sneaking suspicion that had been additional motivation to task her with your dress.

The second she'd had an inch, she'd taken a mile—flowers, decorations for the small Cannibal Town "chapel" venue, a sinner-flesh-free cake, she'd ensured you had it all while still remaining open and attentive to what you wanted when you found it in you to voice it. She was just excited for you both. In a lot of ways, she'd shown you these past months what it would've been like to have an actual mom.

Speak of the devil (or the angel, you'd argue), Rosie's quick rapping at the door precedes her entry and she immediately gushes over how you look.

"Oh my stars, honey! Look at ya!" she half-squeals, spinning one clawed finger in the air as she requests, "Do a li'l turn for me, will ya?"

You indulge her and blush as she literally applauds your appearance, showering you with affectionate praise. Vaggie stands by, just watching the scene unfold with a soft look in her eyes. You know she's thinking back to her own wedding with Charlie and it warms your heart more than words can describe.

"Alright, come on, girls!" Rosie crows, gesturing for you both to proceed out of her parlor, where you've been getting ready for the past couple of hours. "Just about everyone should be settled in their seats 'n' I know Al's all done up and ready, too."

"How's he doing?" you ask as you step out of the room with Rosie and Vaggie, following them to the front of the Emporium to make the short walk to the chapel.

"Oh, he's on Cloud Nine, honey, don't even worry 'bout him," Rosie waves you off with a tittering laugh against a gloved hand. Quietly, she adds just to you, "I get the feelin' that he might be a little somber underneath the happiness though since he's finally gettin' hitched and his mama's, obviously, not here to see it."

Your brow crumples and you nod. "Of course," you murmur back. "Thank you, Rosie. For looking out for him and for me."

"It's my favorite sport, honey," Rosie ribs you as the three of you get into place at the chapel entrance.

The doors are open to ventilate the inside, just like a chapel in the overworld may have been for both your and Alastor's southern hometowns. It hits you with unexpected nostalgia. The tiny chapel is almost comically full of both folks from the hotel and other sinners you and Alastor know separately, not to mention almost the entirety of Cannibal Town. Even Susan's present and behaving…so far.

"Wow, is the entire Pentagram in there?" Vaggie wonders offhand. "Maybe it just looks like it because the building's so small."

"Well, Al wanted to do an announcement in the paper, so I guess that brought a few more people in," you muse to her, your eyes landing on the man himself at the other end of the chapel aisle as you speak.

The second your eyes meet, what little anxiety you'd accrued at the sight of the bustling chapel fades into the background. Despite everything, it's just you and him right now. And that sounds just about perfect.

It's the downward twitch of his smile that makes you realize you're so zoned into your daydreamy state, that you've entirely missed a new "guest" approaching. And then it's Vaggie backing into you, shielding you with her smaller form until you finally turn your head and you hone in on someone shoving past the petite fallen angel to get to you.

Who it is only becomes apparent after they start speaking.

"—believe my own daughter wouldn't invite me to her goddamn wedding," the sinner was ranting. Her words make you pale. "Had to see it in the papers of all places!"

Shocked into vulnerability, you mumble for the first time in decades, "M-Mom?" You're positively dumbstruck. You hadn't even known she'd died.

"Well, obviously!" she snaps at you. Rosie's still standing behind you, not sure what to do or how far this might go. But she doesn't know your mother. She doesn't feel the impending disaster like you do. "But no, not an invite in the mail, not a call, nothing! Ungrateful as ever, Hell hasn't changed you a bit."

You're understandably taken aback on multiple levels. That she's called you "ungrateful." That she's acting as though this is your typical behavior. That she's not even upset to discover through this wedding announcement that not only is her daughter getting married, but that her daughter is dead. And that's not what she cares about.

Hell hasn't changed her a bit either.

Your lips twist in a snarl and you snap back, "I'm interested to hear what I have to be grateful to you for."

Her hand cracks across your cheek before you can blink. Like she was waiting for a reason to do it. Knowing her, she probably was.

Stunned, you hold your face and bare your teeth at her, old habits rousing from years of "living." Vaggie tries to get back in between you and your mom, but you wave her off as your mother continues to yell horrible things in your face and you take it with a stalwart sort of internalized rage. It's familiar. It's unwelcome. But it protects you.

Distantly, as if through a long tunnel, you hear Rosie shout back at your mother, something she's said setting Rosie off and making her abandon her attempt to allow you to handle the situation how you see fit.

And, when you snap back at your mom again and she raises her fist to you this time, you see the red and black-gloved hand of your fiance snatch her wrist in mid-air.

It feels like someone's blessedly (or not) removed the cotton from your ears as sound floods back in and you hear in full all the horrendous things your mother is shouting at you, at Rosie, and now at Alastor, too, for intervening.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me!" she shouts up into his face, either having no idea who she's speaking to right now or simply not caring.

The only reason he hasn't wiped the road with her is because he's put two and two together that she's your mother. That said, he'll first want the go-ahead from you to do so. It's only polite.

"Oh-ho! Au contraire," Alastor tuts down at her as he places himself firmly between you two. You rest your hands against his back to remind him you're there and maybe ground him enough to not cannibalize your disgrace of a mother before the wedding. After is to be determined at this point. "It's you who must learn to keep your hands to yourself, it seems."

"She's my daughter!" your mom fires back, yanking her wrist out of Alastor's grip and only because he allows it.

"And, had you not interrupted proceedings," Alastor counters smoothly, wiping the hand that restrained your mother's wrist against his jacket with no shortage of disdain, "she would be my wife."

"Listen, before I'm anyone's anything, I'm mine, alright?" you butt in, the streams of "my, my, my" making you feel like you've lost your agency all over again, if in small doses.

Your mother, unsurprisingly, ignores you, but you see Alastor's ears flatten a little with chagrin as he flashes you an apologetic look over his shoulder. You offer him a smile that immediately fades into horror as your mom speaks up again. One more damning time.

"Surprised anyone would want her after everything she did," your mom huffs with superiority, sneering at you past Alastor's arm. Don't, is all you can think even as she undoes all your good work to start over in the span of a sentence. "You know you're just the end of the parade of men she's had in her bed, right? You're just the first one she's opened her legs for without a fee."

Horrified, you feel numb as you whisper, "That's… That's not—"

"Unless you're loaded, then I get why she's tricked you into this," your mom continues to muse, sizing Alastor up with a glance before looking at you again. "How long do you think this'll last, kid? We both know what you're like."

"What I'm like?" you repeat, your hollow voice gaining fervor as your demonic form threatens to tear through you. "What I'm like?!"

"You're nothing but a selfish, flea-bitten little whore who spent the best years—the only years—of your life high or with a dick in your mouth," she snarls, trying to get past Alastor to face off with you again. He holds an arm out to stop her, but he's not looked at you since she started in on you again.

You're sure it's over. Just like that. And then the world starts to feel like it's caving in. So what more do you have to lose?

"You know what," you grit out with a harsh laugh. "You're right. I got into drugs and I sold myself on street corners. That's why I'm here. And you know what else?" Your voice becomes throatier as your eyes ignite red and your canines lengthen into fangs, your form barely restrained in your anger. "All of it happened because you were a shit mother with shit priorities who didn't take care of your fucking kids!"

"You shut your wh—"

"No!" you cried, furious as you felt hot tears starting to bead at the corners of your eyes. "I'm not going to! Everything I did at least started because I had to raise myself and then my siblings, too! I went to school, worked, did every side job I could find—every side job—and somehow found ways in the middle of all that to figure out how to be a mom! And you have no idea how much that fucked me up! I didn't even know until I died because that was the first free minute I'd had in years to think about myself!

"I 'whored around' because your kids needed lunch money. They needed new folders for school. A new set of kneepads for volleyball practice," you say, losing steam and wanting to get away from the source of your abuse before she sees you cry. Because you know her still and you know from a tender age that she sees tears as a sign of victory.

To Alastor, you choke out a whispered, "I'm sorry," and hurry past Vaggie and Rosie.

As you pass Rosie, she slips you the Emporium key to let yourself in and catch your breath, fix yourself back up, whatever you need. You flash her a grateful, wobbly smile and head straight there, trusting the others to smooth things over with the attendees. You honestly aren't sure what you'll come back to—maybe some of them will linger and the ceremony will go on as planned.

Or, more likely now that he knows how filthy you are, Alastor will have changed his mind and proceed to send them all home.

That's the thought that finally sends you over the edge and you're able to at least close the Emporium door behind you before you burst into tears.

As you walk back to the parlor you prepped in, you stifle sobs against your hands, eyes wide with something close to panic. As you shoulder open the parlor door and close it behind you, twisting the lock, you wonder at the unbearable weight in your chest—back again after so long without it.

You aren't ashamed of taking care of your brothers and sisters—your kids in the end—however you needed to at the time. Whatever you had to do, you did, and you're glad that—at least when you'd left the world of the living—they'd all been surer-footed and doing okay. You prayed every day to a God you knew at least no longer believed in you that they would continue to lead full, happy lives.

However, hearing those accusations spouted in front of all the folks you've come to know in the Pentagram, who you've come to love and have come to love the you they know down here—in front of the man you've come to adore and who'd adored you in turn—

Well, now you feel shame, pure and thick as shame could be, pooling like slow-acting poison in your belly.

You step over to the vanity Rosie brought in just for you to get ready today and collapse onto the velvet stool.

After a doubtful look at your reflection, you're pretty sure you have all the aesthetic qualities of a raccoon without the inherent "awww" factor. You swallow against a raw sensation in your throat as you locate one of the face wipes Vaggie used on you earlier and start trying to clear away the smudges around your eyes.

There's a quick knock at the door and you're not clear-headed enough to guess who it might be. Rosie, you imagine, as you think back to her pitying expression as you left the chapel entryway with her store key. You try to stomach her pity as something kind and not fall deeper into shame for having seen it, as much as you may want to.

Whoever it is knocks again and you sigh. "Yes?" you ask, grimacing at the rough sound of your voice.

"May I come in?"

Alastor's voice, usually something that inspires warmth from your crown to your toes, makes you curl in on yourself a little. He's surely here to call it off. He could've just left, you know that, but he's a gentleman through and through. He wanted to carry out your relationship properly and that's how he'll likely want to end it as well.

You steel yourself for what you consider the inevitable. Might as well get it over with. You surely can't feel any worse than you do now.

That's a lie though. You can and you're sure you will once it's official.

"Okay," you say, continuing your cleanup before you remember that you locked the door upon entry.

Before you can stand, Alastor's shadow weaves in through the cracks and flips the latch. The man, himself, is soon to follow. Alastor steps through the door he opens just enough to come inside, replacing the door and the lock once he joins you. You find it difficult to look at him, knowing what's coming, so you go back to smearing away teary streaks of cosmetics from your skin.

He's silent as he walks further into the room, stopping behind your perch in front of the vanity. The mirror is angled in such a way that you see most of him, but the top edge cuts off right at his bowtie, so his expression remains—for better or worse—a mystery to you.

Well, you're sure he's smiling certainly. But whatever accompanies that smile or lays beneath it remains unknown for now.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically careful.

You sniffle a little and shrug. "I'm…not really sure yet," you admit, deciding to be honest. "I'm kind of shaken up. I was angry, but that's kind of on the backburner now."

"You've every right to be," he murmurs and you can hear in his quiet storm of a tone that he's angry, too. You're not yet sure at whom though. There's a long pause that hangs between you before he gestures to the armchair nearby. "May I?"

"You need to ask?" you wonder, implying your permission.

He hums and adjusts the chair's position to angle toward the vanity before he seats himself. You sneak a furtive look his way, wary of what expression you'll see on his face, but needing to know at the same time what sort of conversation this will be. You barely handled the whiplash of seeing your mom again. The whiplash of a similar conversation with Alastor might do you in.

As ever, he's difficult to read. His smile is thin and perfunctory. He's settled himself in the armchair with one elbow resting against the arm nearest you as he leans his jaw into his palm. The metal tips of his gloves drum lightly against his cheekbone as he thinks, staring down momentarily at his lap before his carmine gaze casts up to you.

It's reassuring that his features immediately soften upon looking at you, but you keep yourself from getting too hopeful that things can go back to how they were. Maybe he just feels sorry for you.

Alastor clears his throat and your stomach sinks. "I am, admittedly, not the best at issuing comfort," he tells you, an early apology woven into his tone. "However, I would try. For you." He tilts his head slightly. "What can I do?"

"You're not—," you find yourself stuttering, almost numb with shock. "…You're not upset with me?"

His eyes widen and his smile wobbles, nearly wiped clean by bewilderment. "Darling, why on earth would I be upset with you?" he asks, and even in your anxiety-ridden, self-doubting mind, there's no doubt he's genuine.

"Because I—" You pause when your voice cracks to try and gather yourself, your hands falling into your lap and still clutching the mascara-smudged makeup wipe. Alastor shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "I didn't tell you." A deep, long-suffering sigh falls past your lips as your head hangs. "I couldn't. Not because of you, but I…"

You force your shoulders to square up and it's an old habit that comes back with minimal effort even when you feel like falling apart.

"Everything I did, I did for my family. Not her, but my brothers and sisters. They may as well have been my kids, but I started taking care of them when I was still a kid, myself," you mumble as you run a hand over your ruddy cheek. "I don't regret that. But… I know how it seems, even without the reasons behind it. It's taboo in my time, let alone yours, and I just…" You wince and curl in on yourself just a little more. "I just wanted you to see me. I never got to be me while I was alive. There was too much else to worry about.

"But I shouldn't have hidden my past from you," you finally admit. "It's basically lying, isn't it? And no matter what reasons I had, I was being selfish when I decided not to bring it up. So… I'm sorry. And I understand if you've changed your mind about marrying me because of it."

Alastor studies you through your explanation, noting the shame he'd never seen before pinching your features and sorely wanting to go back outside and turn the sinner who'd reduced you to this to a pulp. However, knowing you as he did, he'd abstained and let Rosie and Vaggie handle her while he went to the Emporium after you.

He's still holding out some measure of hope though that you'll let him off her in some way, shape, or form. Call it a wedding present to you both.

Tsking at your closing statements, Alastor declares, "Whacky nonsense. You've nothing to apologize for and, with your permission, of course, I still very much intend to marry you."

Shocked, you meet his eyes again. "But…," you stammer.

"But nothing," Alastor says with an almost boyish tilt to his smile.

You're sure he still doesn't get it though, so you say, "B-But, I'm… I'm filthy!"

Alastor scoffs a little and hooks his fingers along the underside of the armchair to pull it with him as he scoots closer to you. As he plucks a fresh makeup wipe from the box on the vanity, he says, "It's just a few smears of makeup, dear, no need to be dramatic."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," you mumble even as you let him take your chin and angle your head to start cleaning the streaks you missed from your eyelids and cheeks. It's all you can do not to collapse into him and weep, the sheer amazement and relief you feel from the absence of his rejection overtaking you as strongly as your previous grief.

"Well, it's the only bit of 'filth' I see," he murmurs as he sets the wipe aside and tugs your makeup bag closer to him instead, unzipping it and rifling around. "It's not even filth. And neither is your past, my dear."

Alastor pulls out the products he wants from the bag and arranges them in a line on the vanity before dutifully beginning to replace what you cried off. He's personally content either way, makeup or not, but he knows you'll feel better if you return to the chapel looking put back together. So he does it.

You just stare at him in awe and surprise for a moment or two before finally commenting offhand, "I didn't know you knew how to do this," as he carefully lines your eyes.

"What, you think I simply wake up like this?" he teases you.

"Implying you sleep at all," you clap back, but it's with an adoring smile.

"Mm, touché," Alastor murmurs, using one of his claws to ensure he draws you the crispest wings possible before capping the cosmetic and swapping it for mascara. "Now, darling, you always look ravishing, but you look exceptionally so today. But if you wouldn't mind, I'd very much like to marry you before the day is out. Is that agreeable?"

You laugh softly at his theatrics. "I suppose so," you agree with a playful, put-on sigh.

"You suppose so, do you?" he chuckles, tidying up the vanity before holding out his hands to help you up. You let him and he tugs you into an embrace, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. "I suppose I'll take it."

"Thanks, Al," you murmur against his chest, wanting to burrow into his arms but also not wanting to both undo his fine work on your makeup or get any on his suit. You still feel like a hot mess, but you guess if he can look at you and see something to cherish, maybe you can try and see it from his point of view. "I love you."

You can practically feel the warmth radiate down from the smile he gives you. "And I, you, sweetheart," he says softly, keeping you close to his side as he escorts you from the parlor. "I'll love you even more if you let me paint you a heart with that wretched woman's entrails."

And suddenly things are blessedly back to your (favorite) version of normal.

[iwannakisskissyoureyesagain]

will solace headcanon time i love my boy

- casual stoner. when he gets breaks from the infirmary, he and drew get weed from behind the dionysus cabin and smoke together. they like to do it on the big house porch because dionysus couldn’t care less—the only reason he doesn’t do it with them is because he’s not sure if it goes against his punishment from zeus—or behind the apollo cabin when chiron’s around. piper has a cart and the two of them take hits from it and talk shit whenever she comes to visit. he doesn’t really smoke around nico though, just because he’s said he doesn’t like the smell (nico doesn’t really care otherwise, since it helps with will’s anxiety), and definitely not around percy because of everything that happened with gabe

- he’s started talking to dionysus about his anxiety, imposter syndrome, and seasonal depression. dionysus wants to talk to him about testing him for mild ocd

- his hair looks like a renaissance painting of patroclus, just blond

- loves his friends so much. he’s their biggest supporter in the entire world and if they didn’t all live at camp, he’d probably try to convince them to all live in a giant house together

- he’s very casually affectionate. he says i love you a lot, but he always means it. hugs and kisses his friends on the cheek. physical touch is his giving love language (he always makes sure he has consent, first, obviously)

- his receiving love language, however, are words of affirmation. he needs to verbally hear that he’s doing a good job—as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a healer, as a son, just in life

- he’s trained himself to be a light sleeper after years of working in the infirmary and becoming head counselor. sometimes his body just wakes himself up in the middle of the night and he has to sit in the infirmary until he’s positive that everything and everyone is fine and he’s literally the only one awake

- similarly, he has a crazy sixth sense of knowing when his stop is if he ever dozes off on public transport, and always wakes up two stops before. he thinks it stems from spending his a lot of his formative years traveling around with his mom while she toured, constantly waking up in new cities

- he iris messages his mom every night and tells her every single detail of his day

- being both a true crime junkie and a medic at a demigod camp, gore has absolutely no affect on him. this boy delivered a baby and has reattached countless limbs; he falls asleep listening to podcasts where twenty-something women talk about serial killers so notorious they have to give a content warning. a Saw trap isn’t going to faze him

- he met maren morris when he was younger and his mom opened for her. he got her signature and is still planning on getting it tattooed, he just hasn’t had a chance

- he has a very high pain tolerance and has a lot of stick-n-pokes, some of which he did himself, including a wonky-looking star that he let nico do and woobeewoo from Adventure Time

- his favorite music artists include kasey musgraves, taylor swift, leith ross, baby fisher, gracie abrams, fiona apple, fleetwood mac, dolly parton, carrie underwood, and troye sivan

- “ribs” by lorde makes him cry

- so does “the bug collector” by haley heynderickx

- he’s terrified of spiders

- he cries when anything at all happens to a dog in a movie. he watched All Dogs Go to Heaven with nico and was a such disaster by the time the credits rolled that the two of them had to sit there for half an hour until he calmed down. he has a core memory of watching Bolt with his mom when he was little and sobbing into her arms at the end. his siblings have expressly forbidden him from ever watching A Dog’s Purpose, for fear that it would literally send him into a deep depression

- kayla literally bought him cargo pants because she was so sick of him wearing shorts in the middle of winter. he’ll never admit it, but they’re his favorite pants he owns

- his fictional crushes are rodrick heffley, both marceline and marshall lee, jennifer check, edward cullen, alice cullen, ella of frell, prince char, nefara de nile, and jade west

- his mom took him to to see a free, outdoors production of Romeo and Juliet when he was twelve and he really liked it. he hates reading, and the combination of dyslexia and shakespeare is interesting to say the least, but he woke up one night missing his mom a lot, and found a copy of the play on one of his siblings’ nightstands, and decided to try reading it for nostalgia’s sake. that lasted about ten minutes. kayla woke up at the crack of dawn to go practice archery alone and found him in the empty infirmary, where he went so he wouldn’t wake anyone up with his glowing, sound asleep in a chair with the book still open in his lap

- it’s easy to forget he’s from texas when you hear his voice after years of living at camp, but a soft southern drawl slips out when he says certain words, and especially when he sings

- his favorite taylor swift eras are debut, fearless, and lover

- he knows how to shoot a gun and has insane aim, much better than when he shoots a bow and arrow. because of this, he feels very strongly about mandating gun laws and safety regulations because he knows firsthand just how dangerous they are. nico has no idea and will’s just waiting for the moment he can surprise him with it

- he has perfect pitch and lowkey doesn’t even realize it

- his handwriting is so atrocious he can’t even read it himself. one time he enlisted nico to take notes for him in the infirmary, but nico’s cursive was almost harder to read than will’s chicken-scratches

- caffeine has almost no affect on him, except maybe spiking his anxiety, but he’s gaslit himself into thinking it keeps him alert

- he’s extremely empathetic, just knows how to put on a brave face

- he has literally no idea how to ask for help. my boy is so used to taking care of everyone that people have to literally beg him to let them help him with work or console him

- he desperately wants a cat