#I am a domesticated house goblin
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Trying to figure out how to draw myselfâŚfor some artist insert memes and such
For context, my husband has endearingly nicknamed me âgoblin wifeâ. So hereâs a little goblin Draconic:
#little goblin wife#I am a domesticated house goblin#with a FAT ASS#artist draw themselves#itâs me fr fr#a real outfit I have#my art
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this is from my main but damn your orv rec from windsoftime floored me and then rewrote me. what. ive returned like the goblin i am and am thirsting for more. any more reccs please đ¤˛đ§đťââď¸
- squid-n-sunfish-express
haha Iâm happy you enjoyed my rec! WindsOfTime is a great writer huh
Here are a few more orv fic recs:
by grand invention by seclusion
âDonât go,â Yoo Joonghyuk says, then mentally kicks himself. And then wonders why he kicked himself. He wants him now, has wanted him since he drifted through the endless sprawl of black space with only the story of his sole reader to sustain him, has wanted him across countless screaming battlefields, has wanted him since he dangled him off a bridge, the glint of knowing hard against his temple. All in different ways. The latest: in his entirety, with the intention to never let go. If this is his end goal, he need not hide anything.
Legit prob one of the most beautifully written orv fics Iâve ever read
(re)- read, write by aozu/ @aozu
Post-epilogue.
Kim Dokja buys a big house and they all live in it. Including Yoo Joonghyuk.
-
âOppa,â Yoo Mia rasps on the door before hefting one of the boxes into her arms.
Almost immediately, the door opens to reveal Yoo Joonghyuk, whose gaze flicks to meet his. Yoo Mia enters, ignoring the frizzled tension where Kim Dokja stares with his mouth slightly open at the scene.
ââŚYou bastard,â he says, and Yoo Joonghyuk closes the door in his face.
I havenât read the main side story yet so as far as Iâm concerned this fic is canon cuz this was exactly what I needed to read to soothe myself after reading the epilogues
Seal Of My Devotion by orphiclovers/ @orphiclovers
Kim Dokja could not stop obsessing over Yoo Joonghyuk's clothes. It was becoming a problem.
Wherein Kim Dokja wants to make sure 0th turn Yoo Joonghyuk is in the right cosplay
behind the black dial by HeavenlyDusk/ @inkstaindusk
The eldest of three children, Kim Dokja didn't wish for more than to help his mother run her hat shop. That plan is derailed when the rumored Witch of the Waste sets a curse on him, and in his fear, he runs away--right into the moving castle of the Wizard Yoo Joonghyuk, his two apprentices, and his demon. It's more than he could have ever thought he would have, but underneath his exciting new life is a secret no one wants him to know.
Super fun Howlâs Moving Castle au
foundations for cathedrals by featherx/ @featherxs
Before the scenarios, Yoo Joonghyuk had lived in a two-bedroom apartment. It had been neither spacious nor comfortable, furnished only with the bare necessities.
Suffice to say, that two-bedroom apartment had not prepared him for the experience of living in a two-storey building in the Industrial Complex.
An exceedingly domestic KimCom fic that makes me so happy
at the end of all things (you'll find me) by aryelee/ @luxaofhesperides
At the end of everything, in that space between death and regression, Na Bori and Lee Jihye meet again and again and again.
Or: what is a haunting if not a love that lingers?
I hope you donât mind me throwing in a BoriJihye fic rec here cuz theyâre actually my favorite orv ship and this is my favorite fic Iâve read for them so far
Enjoy!
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141 (and friends) professional and  personal Specialty Headcannons.
also I dipped for a hot minute but I spent that time reading twitter thread fics like the internet goblin I am and falling into the multi shipper hole that is PriceNik and poly141 so here are more Headcannons about our favs.Â
(also no I won't write Konig Headcannons, I don't like him. pls stop asking)
Areas of interest: academic and personal.
-soap is good at chemistry and chemical equations. the man has the periodic table tattooed on the back of his eyelids and nothing will stop him from making an IED out of literally the most random shit. also knows a concerning amount about atomic physics. Â but he also has a passion for all poetry and writes little sonnets in his sketchbook for his partners.
-Price is really good at languages. he's a certified multilingual and is constantly learning. his favourite part is learning niche regional dialects. he is fluent in conversation in all major languages and can speak conversationally in at least 30 others. he also really enjoys horticulture. he can name 50 different grasses according to Laswell.
- Ghost specialises in trigonometry. he can do it mentally on the fly and often comes out correct. he uses it in his sniping, allowing him to be sent on more solo missions, without the need for a spotter. coincidently his secondary talent is navigation, he is bizarrely good at maps and geo guessing games but also used to do orienteering tournaments before his âdeathâ. after the alone mission, despite only being told where the safe house was, ghost seemed to find his way there, without a map, from a city he had only been in for like a week. I like to think his internal sense of direction is like homing pigeon level. you could stick him anywhere and he could immediately find his way back.Â
-Gaz is an all-round science man, a jack-of-all-trades. he has a comprehensive knowledge of biology, chemistry, physics, geology and the niche areas as well. zoology, astrophysics, ecology, palaeontology, psychology, genetics astronomy, botany, microbiology and the list goes on. you'll never meet someone with so much knowledge of the natural, social and formal sciences. he's not at university level but he has a thorough understanding of the concepts and case studies for all. he can comprehend the advanced concepts as well. its helped the 141 out of some tight spots. coincidently his personal interest is reading. his room on base and his apartment is full of academic journals and natgeo magazines.
-Alejandro. Mechanical engineering. The colonel of the Los Vaqueros can fix anything with duct tape and a prayer, but he also can build the most robust (and more importantly) high-functioning machinery. all repairs to their vehicles and heavy weaponry on base are done by Alejandro, simply because he doesnât trust anyone else with the machines that keep his men safe. he also enjoys doing it, it gives him some time to wind down and just tinker with things. His secret talent is weaving and braiding. he was taught by his abuela to not only weave scarves and things like carpets, but also to braid her hair and his sisters once she got too old. (I head cannon him as the oldest and they all lived with their grandma cause their parents died.) he used to braid Valerias hair (as an mlm/wlw besties thing) before she betrayed them. he braided Gazâs hair once they bonded over engineering.
-Rudolfo. Rudy is an expert in law. more specifically domestic and international criminal law, but he also keeps up with all legal disciplines. due to the proximity of Las Almas to the border, he also keeps up to date with USA law. He's a life saver in sticky jurisdiction missions. he also manages the compounds paperwork for requests. he has a silver tongue that translates to requisition forms. his personal passion is painting though. he feels that sometimes words aren't enough to describe things and loves painting landscapes and the little moments, like a flowering cactus in the middle of the night but also its death the next morning. he knows how fleeting life can be in his profession, and wants to capture all aspects. hopefully more with Ale if they retire.
-Laswell. Algorithms. typical of a spook Kate is an expert in cryptographic algorithms. she spent a few years as a cipher breaker/creator in her early career and hasn't lost her touch since moving to intelligence. all of her transmissions to her sources are hand encrypted and they have a key delivered separately. she creates them herself so that they can't be deciphered. she also does it completely in her head, nothing is typed out. her time off is spent back on her wife's farm, as her passion is animal husbandry. they raise goats, sheep, some assorted fowl and a smaller herd of cattle together. Â she has an Australian Shepard and a kelpie/blue heeler dog that she trained herself.Â
-Nik is an expert in psychology. not in your typical clinical way, but the body language, tone of voice, mindset and âtakes one look and deciphers your whole lifeâ way. His experience is immense and he applies it all the time. he can tell when a prisoner is lying in interrogation and when he's been made during undercover. Nik knows people, and frequently uses his observations to do things like blatantly walk into a restricted area with only confidence and a blank lanyard. the Russian is unparalleled in putting himself in the enemies mind space or pulling off dangerous acts in a crowded area. heâs been teaching gaz some tricks (e.g. the Amsterdam cafe mission). But on the side, he is an excellent barber. haircuts of any length and a full on old fashioned shave, with a straight razor and everything, is his special talent. he does priceâs moustache, Jonnys mohawk (even though he thinks its ugly when short), learnt how to give gas a full hair treatment and even does Kates hair. he uses it for missions of course (its a great source of intel) but he also finds it to be a way to show care to his people.Â
bonus:
Valeria: main specialty-economics and accounting. special interest-botany (but strictly focusing on poisonous and hallucinogenic plants)
Graves: main specialty: aeronautics. special interest-being a backstabbing bitch? jk, he's actually super into smoking and curing meats. if he had joined 141 he and ghost would have eventually found common ground there. (ghost actually enjoyed his career as a butchers apprentice)
anyway that's it for now, and I'll try upload more often. feel free to repost on other platforms with credit, my twitter @ is @macG_Unit. also let me know if anyone writes pics based off these, id love to read them.Â
#cod mwii#cod mw22#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#john price#kyle gaz garrick#laswell mw2#kate laswell#alejandro vargas#rudolfo parra#nikolai cod#valeria cod#graves mw2
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CHAPTER XII [masterlist]
pairing: bang chan x ofc
genre/notes:Â general audience; regency period drama; family fluff; domesticity; ocassional angst; slowburn; governess!oc; nobility!BC; age differences; age changes.
wordcount:Â 2.2k
summary: the Bangs New Year mischief.
also available in ao3, if you prefer that format
Š Do not repost, copy, or republish into another site or under another name.
â ď¸ All characters that shares the name of real life person in this story are represented in a fictional manner for entertainment purpose, and not to be alluded with real life.
TAGLIST:Â @spookykryptoniteperson @nixtape-foryou @do-you-know-what-else-is-big
âFaster!!â Minho crowed, as his father dragged the sledge and the eldest atop it up to the hilltop.
âMinho, youâre quite capable to pull it up yourself,â Mari sighed, waiting for the two at the top.
The lad merely giggled, tumbling aside from his sledge into the soft snow.
ââTis fine Miss Son,â Commodore Bang said, grunting as he righted the sledge to face downward, then turned to Minho. âShall we go down again?â
The lad nodded, grinning and happy like he was five. âLet's!"
âAll right, then.â Despite her disapproval, Mari couldn't hide her smile. Giggling, Minho settled down in the front. The Commodore took the reins behind him, feet planted on the snowy ground to launch downward. âReady?â The Commodore pushed, and their laughter carried on as they slid downhill.
âHeâs my first child after all,â the Commodore mused to Mari, while Minho gaggled with the twins. âHeâs been very good to his younger brothers, but I ought to let him have more fun at times.â
Their relationship had improved much since the reconciliation. Mari was glad for it; Commodore Bang cosseted them an equal amount without care for age. Thus, despite entrusting Minho with more responsibilities as the eldest, he indulged and adored the boy. Not that there was anyone else to do it; there were few people around to whom Minho might let his voice trail off into a whine or laugh with childish glee.
âLook at them,â he chuckled as the boys took snowball fights to rain snows down each other's collars. âThose little goblins.â
âYour boys are a particular set, Commodore,â Mari acknowledged.
âWill you have your turn now, Miss Son?â Commodore Bang turned; Mari followed his gaze, towards one additional sleigh resting by a withered oak. In truth, Mari would like to slide down the hill on it, like she had years ago. The wild sixteen-year-old in her heart would soar at the chance. But as a teacher, she refrained with a curt smile.
âI should not, sir.â
âCome now. I would not think less of you for stumbling.â
Mari shrugged. âI may not be hesitant in my abilities, but there are other things I am considering."
âI only wish for you to share the thrill,â Commodore Bang said.
âI do not think it is necessary in my sedate age,â Mari laughed. A shriek came from down belowâYongbok and Jisung were tangled in a scuffle, shrieking and throwing lumps of snowballs at each other.
âI could not even persuade you with the sleigh,â Commodore Bang mused, unperturbed by the scene.
âDo you not think nine people and four horses are a bit precarious?â Mari laughed.
Commodore Bang had unveiled his two-seater cutter sleigh from the depth of his stable. Once polished and cleaned, took his boys on a ride to turn about the country. But despite the two rows of seats, Mari was still reluctant to ride alongside them. âI would not leave one of them behind. But now that I have returned, they would not leave me in the house.â
âWhen Minhoâs old enough I shall get another one,â Commodore Bang decided. âA narrower sledge, for four of them to tuck in warmly.â
âDo not forget the bells.â
âOf course not,â he scoffed good-naturedly. âIf a sleigh would not do, nor sledges, then there can only be one thing left to entertain you in this good winter...âÂ
Mari saw the Commodore in contemplation, which soon bloomed into a brilliant glint of mischief â much like Seungmin before he tucked into the biscuit jar. âCommodore?â she stammered, stepping back as he grinned wider. âW-What is it?â
Two days after he threw a large rockâ at least five kilograms worthâto the frozen lake in the back garden. There was a loud boom as it landed far near the middle, but hardly a crack. The Commodore then tied up his skates and slid towards and around the rock. After a moment, his hand rose, calling the boys over. Hyunjin zoomed first with a whoop, followed by the twins. Mari sat down at the steps of the port, Minho having persuaded her to fit a pair of skates over her boots.
âDear boy, I never knew how to skate,â Mari murmured.
âItâs like dancing, Miss Son, except without the steps,â replied Minho. Quite done helping her with the contraption, he offered her hand to help her up. âItâs great fun really, and not that scary after youâve got some help to find your way around it. Donât you worryâtry standing up firstâAppa and I will catch you whenever you need help.â
Mari was quite ready to kneel on the ice the second she roseâhow does one keep their balance on these thin, long steels?
âYouâre doing great!" Minho exclaimed assuringly. His feet were easy as he glided towards the others, hand steady despite her grip to guide her stiff legs. "Just keep your balanceâ now Iâll push you to Appa. (Oh, dearâŚ) Heâs a mere short way ahead, all you have to do is justâglide a bit by pushing your feet forward one by one. Then you can stop near him. Ready?â
âNoâŚâ
âIâll push you, Miss Son.â Mari was grateful that the boy took care to warn her of the actions he will do. "You can do it."
Mari bit her own tongue from making any noise, heaven forbid a shriek. With only one moment to reign her panic before Minho pushed her, her foot stepped forward and her form slid. By the sheer force of Minho's push and her stiff, frightened figure, she managed to glide ahead for five seconds, after which she gave into reaching for the Commodore's hold.
âCaught you,â he chuckled, between her muffled wince. His hands held her by the elbow, righting up her poor jelly-like form. When Mari looked up there was amusement in his eyes, but it was not condescending. The man was in a merry mood, and Mari thought her incapabilities ought not to ruin such humour.
âThe least I can do is not fallâthe boys will worry,â she panted.
âYou must not fear," the Commodore replied. "Minho is right. It is such great funâbut heâs a terrible teacher."
Mari suppressed a snort. Commodore Bang held one of her hands as the other hovered by her elbow; he steadied her to face the lake again. The boys were making merry with themselves, trying to outdo one another in whatever way they could manage. Even Jeongin skated quite well on his own, giggling as the others clapped when he made a smooth glide.
âWill you try again?â Commodore Bang offered. Mari was startled at hearing his voice so near. The sun hit his face, warming his dark eyes into honey-brown pools. It was but a half-second notice, but enough to make her conscious of herself. She turned away, muttering a  yes  in a flustered hope for distraction. The Commodore pushed his foot forward, and being in his hold, Mari followed with some alarm.
âIâm holding you well, have some courage,â he said, as they circled a bit farther around the boys. âNow, Iâll need you to march, push your right leg ahead, then your left... Go on, right and left, and right and left â go on ahead, donât stop.â He manoeuvred his hold on her that she skates right by his side, and holding to his forearm instead. Mari had a firm grip on that arm, her eyes shifting between her legs and her trackâthe Commodore had a smile by the lilt of his voice.
âThatâs a nice turn, go on, right, and leftâŚ.â
Mari glided on, ceasing her movements and slowing her pace. She faltered again in trying to stop before crashing into a tree or the edge of the lake, but again a pair of strong hands steadied her.
âGot you!â
With heavy breaths Mari straightened again, pushing away the hair over her eyes and setting her screwed bonnet. Commodore Bang was showing her to stop in skates, and she nodded to his words, even while chuckling at her hesitance and her sudden halts of panic. But the Commodoreâs eyes had kept the warm mirth, and he grasped her hand in encouragement.
âYou shall do quite well, with that eagerness and a little practice.
âI think my feet have their own fright to overcome,â Mari considered, then laughed again. âBut I understand now why Seungmin asked you to throw him back to the lake.â
âPardon?â
âLike that time you swung him about in your arms, claiming youâd throw him out of the water. He was screaming out of his wits when you swung him away and laughed his head off when you clasped him back. But the shameless lad asked you to swing him again like it was fun being induced to scream his head off.â
âA thrill, perhaps?â
âYes.â
Commodore Bang chuckled. Mari looked ahead to the boys, circling each other in their own games or racing by the outskirts of the lake. Minho paused to wave and grin at meeting her eyes.
âChin up, Miss Son,â said the Commodore. His hold moved to her elbow again to push her away. âAnd look ahead. Why donât you try to go over to Minho?â
Mari managed to make a turn by herself at the end of the day and returned to the house with delight and fatigue set in her. It was a day well spent, exerting and pleasant all the same. But the boys had no notice of weariness and went to play with their toys by the fire. Mari settled under her shawl with some tea and rice cakes. Commodore Bang sat with the eldest two on the couch. He had obtained school recommendations from his friends and currently disclosing the specifics; there were concerns over the distance and the tuition, with occasional comparisons to their previous school. Mari attended and contemplated on her own, relishing the warm tea flooding her mouth.
âI should inspect these two schoolsâand Bâ School too, to see if their offers are worth the expense,â settled the Commodore. âOnce the snow melts, possibly.â
âA high price does not guarantee high quality,â Minho remarked.
âQuite right, that is.â
âUnfortunately, it would be hard to know exactly the quality offered under such pricing,â Mari mused.
Changbin turned to her. âHow to distinguish them then, Miss Son?â
âIâm not sure⌠To judge by the impression you receive the first time?â
âIf you are a good judge of character, that is,â Commodore Bang returned.
They shared a glance, and with some embarrassment, Mari became conscious of herself. But the Commodoreâs eyes were mirthfulâteasing man.
âI would not vouch for myself,â Mari mumbled.
âAppa, can I go to school?â Seungmin piped up. Commodore Bang turned to him and called the lad upon his lap. Seungmin bent himself over his thighs instead, hanging his arms over one side while his legs slouched.
âOf course. When youâre eleven years old.â
âNoâI want to go with Minho and Changbin-hyung.â the child insisted.
âIf you go, then what will Miss Son do?â Commodore Bang's gaze flitted back to her.
âSheâll stay with Jeongin, no?â
The youngest was sitting beside her as she assessed the tear on his fox, looking up with confusion at the mention of his name.
âBut if you go, soon enough Jeongin will want to follow,â Commodore Bang said. âIf you all went to school, then what would she do?
âThen you keep her company,â Seungmin decided nonchalantly. Minho and Changbin snorted at the words. The Commodore sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in embarrassment. But his humour was apparently spurred as well, for his body shook with laughter as he tickled Seungmin. The boy cried and giggled, lighting the hushed with commotion.
âEasy for you to say,â Mari sighed, rubbing her temples. Even so, the flippant suggest both amused and despaired her. Seungmin was a complete master of the menace he embodies, with his innocent air and a toothy little smile.
âYou be Miss Sonâs student!" he said when he turned to Mari. "Appaâs a bit old and boring but you wonât mind,  ssaem , wonât you?â
Commodore Bangâs laugh pitched higher. âSeungmin-ahâŚ!â he bemoaned.
Mari shook her head. This child... âIâd tease your father less than you, that is certain. The Commodore and I will survive.â She leaned to the child across her, pleading with her face, âBut then I will miss you terribly, Min-ah, then what shall I do?â
Seungmin paused at the remark, then muttered that he might come home for the seasonal holidays. Commodore Bang settled down from his glee to tighten his hold upon the child, exhausting his adoration. The child was not pleased, but he was then hoisted up his father's shoulder, head down to the floor. The Commodore rose while hauling him so, and as Seungmin laughed and begged to be put down, the others were ushered along to nap.
âI donât think I should play with him anymore,â Jeongin declared quietly by Mariâs side. He held her hand as they exited the room, the fox plush in his other.
âWhy so?â Mari asked.
âIâm going to be six soon,â he said. âThatâs too old for a plush no?â
âI suppose it is.â
âWell, then. And Mr Ennie gets old way faster than meâheâd better rest by my bed instead.â Mari might only pry the fox away when the youngest is to attend school. But Jeongin's hands were empty the next morning, much to his brother's bewilderment. His fingers fiddled often but his mouth deflected determinedly at his brother's despair. Commodore Bang let out nothing but a long sigh. Either warmed or in agony at the youngest growing up.
commodore bang: flinging off weights away and along with him in an unconscious attempt to preen/flirt. this man, really. but sparks are sparkling, yes?
i hope you like this update. we only have seven more!! let's get to it, braem!! please look forward to it, and please stay healthy and happy ^^
#straykidsland#stray kids fic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fluff#skz fic#skz fanfic#skz fanfiction#skz fluff#skz family#stray kids family#family au#siblings au#regency au#musical au#bang chan fanfic#bang chan fanfiction#bang chan x oc#bang chan fluff#lee know fluff#changbin fluff#hyunjin fluff#han jisung fluff#lee felix fluff#seungmin fluff#i.n fluff#bang chan fic#lee know fic#changbin fic#hyunjin fic
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Night Blogging
okay, *technically* I'm not using the term right. It's an old phrase from before we called it Shitposting- we blamed all the weird stuff on sleep deprivation and Australians lmao
But it's night, and I'm blogging, so here we are.
so if you've read my other long posts, you'll know I'm in multiple open polyamorous relationships... and that I'm having what one might call "a hoe phase" and an accompanying crisis about if I still have worth if I'm a slut.
Well now im having a whole different (but still slut-adjacent) crisis. Do I even know what romance is????
This didnt come out of nowhere. My girlfriend mentioned that I was dating around as though I was single several months ago. And today she- wisely- brought up that i am at risk of girl bossing too close to the sun. and I had already been thinking about how my sibling had said that our parents didnt really model romance for us, and that we were told that romantic love is just kissing your best friend. And to be clear: I TOTALLY am. I'm not lonely or touch starved or sad or maidenless (or lad-less) in any sense of the imagination.
So... why am I still pursuing people??
The tree i can understand. He's a fun fuck, and he travels the renfaire circuit so I wont see him all the time. No chance of a solid relationship, just a fun easy breezy fling.
The lookout? Similar thing. Super fun to make out with and fine as HELL, but he lives like three hours away and doesnt seem interested in going steady. I can work with that
Max is PolySaturared and we just make out when I'm over for house parties, which isnt as often as I'd like but I'm desperately trying not to have too much of a crush on him (or his wife... or his girlfriend... or his other partner) so it's fine (jesus, maybe I'm not Ace, maybe I am just autistic)
Theres my good ex and my middle school bestie, but they're hella busy and our schedules havent really lined up. Disappointing, but acceptable.
The thing these people have in common is that they are almost entirely unavailable for me to date!! Until literally a month ago I was under the impression that I was just chasing the dopamine of New relationship Energy with ethically renewable sources and I could get my cozy domestic stability from my lovely girlfriends and partner...
And then trumpet guy and I made out at one of Max's house parties.... and Then I went on two dates with The Goblin King after making out with him and the Tree at the same time on NYE. And like??? It's so weird to say that I dont think either of them are stupid hot???? (But only one of the three people I'm dating is Stupid Hot, so there is precedent but?) It feels kinda weird and disingenuous to want to spend more time with these people who I'm not crushing on
And yet im Quickly falling head over clown shoes for trumpet guy. He's cute and fun and he asked me out on a date to dress way fancy and get sushi and go see a musical and???? I had just been telling a classmate that I didnt feel like I had been properly romanced since high school and?????? While I'm an impatient slut, it feels nice to be pursued.
The goblin king is really fucking sweet, and he's got really nice hair, but I'll wait to try talking myself out of liking him until after our next date... (too late, cant unthink that. I'll bring it up in person. He's really cool and I do want to still be his friend, but we both live with parents who would NOT get it so that kinda makes it hard to have solo couple time... or any couple time. It's not like I have to make a choice anytime soon but the dude deserves to know that I'm not sure if there's anything for us beyond friendship and the occasional kiss. Heck, we've only made out the one time and not even just us.)
Anyway, what's tumblr for other than an online diary??
#polyamory#you dont know me#but i know you#long post#nightblogging#romance#stream of consciousness#clown behavior
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What Makes a Truly Satisfying Christmas Story?
I despise the tripe that passes as most Christmas stories. If it's a romantic narrative then a couple will have some sort of difficulty during the holidays and will overcome it by the end through the intervention of either an unexpected plot twist of goodness, a supernatural elf, or even a visitation by Santa himself.  Something must pull the protagonistsâ bacon out of the fire at the last minute. Economic or domestic difficulties are all solved. Meanwhile, how many times has the holiday itself been saved by one character or another? Ernest saves Christmas, Frosty saves Christmas, the Martians save Christmas (actually Santa saves Christmas from the Martians) and so it goes. One almost gets the sense that the celebration of Christâs birth is a porcelain figure rather than our rugged religious holiday.
Part I
      Only Charles Dickens, with "The Christmas Carol in Prose,â ever managed to write a non-overtly religious narrative that successfully embraces the central power of the holiday.  Furthermore, his success seems to have eluded him in most other tries.  After 1843 Dickens composed Christmas stories multiple times which were financially so successful that his Christmas presentation became a staple in Victorian England.  However, most modern critics admit that "A Cricket on the Hearth," "The Chimes," âThe Haunted Houseâ âThe Struggle for Life,â and the âHaunted Manâ do not rise to the power of Scroogeâs transformation.  In fact, most readers have never heard of them.  Only âThe Cricketâ ever made it as a Rankin and Bass special.  Furthermore this failure should not be connected with any sense of the growing cynicism within the author.  Not even the Christmas chapters from "The Pickwick Papers" (which predates âThe Carolâ) entitled "The Goblins Who Stole a Sexton" hit the nose on the head in the same way that Scroogeâs story does. âThe Carolâs strength comes from Dickensâ channeling the holidayâs spiritual center. Using that as a base, I would like to suggest that the spiritual center necessary for an effective Christmas story must include the following: (1) it must be a narrative of wonder; (2) it must involve something precious, (3) that precious something must face real jeopardy, and finally (4) the solution to that challenge, the salvation depicted in the storyâs conclusion, must be potentially inclusive.
Part II
To begin, the successful story of Christmas must be one of wonder. As Dickens famously said In the opening of his âCarolâ âThere is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.â Christmas is, at its center, not an everyday event. âIt is the most wonderful time of the year.â It comes, shaking up the norm. And that is part of its spiritual center. Both Hebrew and Christian understanding of the Almightyâs workings includes wonder: âWho is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods? Who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?â (Exodus 15:11 KJV). âRemember his marvelous works that he hath done, his wonders, and the judgments of his mouthâ (1 Chronicles 16:12 KJV). So Christmas stories, at their best, always include wonder. Â Â Â Â Â Â In some ways, this is the easiest of elements to incorporate. Just set the story in a land of wonders such as Toyland in "March of the Wooden Soldiers," Christmas Town in âRudolf the Red Nosed Reindeerâ or Whoville in âHow the Grinch Stole Christmas.â The fantastic element of the place itself will instill wonder. Furthermore many might note that because of the fantastic setting, an overt reference to Christ is not always needed. And many Christmas stories avoid the overt religious quality by doing so. However, overtly avoiding the Christmas story is perilous since it is the springboard of the Yule soul. Think of Fred Halloway's observation from "the Christmas Carol":
âI am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that -- as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.â
      Again, note the element of breaking into what is normal. Still, it interesting to note that C.S. Lewis and Tolkien disagreed about lands of wonder and Christmas. Tolkien, who created a whole series of Father Christmas letters and stories for his children, told Lewis it was impossible to have Christmas in Narnia since there was no Christ. Apparently, Lewis just shrugged and had Father Christmas appear anyway. (Ironically, Tolkien felt that Lewisâ fairytale was to obviously Christian, preferring his more subtle approach found in Middle Earth.) Still I think Lewis' instincts also had merit. What a powerful opening Lewis gives which is centered on Christmas: âIt is winter in Narnia,â said Mr. Tumnus, âand has been forever so long. . . always winter, but never Christmas.â The bleakness of Narnia is tangible to both young and old readers even if it is a world of wonder and when Christmas comes it signals the end of the White Witchâs power.       One might wonder where is the wonder is such a hard-boiled Christmas narrative as âA Christmas Story,â in which the narrator is desperately trying to maneuver his mom and dad into buying him a Red Ryder BB GunŠ (with this thing in the stock that tells time). However, the wonder is everywhere in this story. As Ralphi recalls "First nighters, packed earmuff to earmuff, jostled in wonderment before a golden tinkling display of mechanized, electronic joy!" Randy is still so young that he dances about at the Christmas Parade at seeing Mickey and the characters from âthe Wizard of Oz.â But even Ralphie is enough of a believer in wonder that he includes Santa in his machinations. Wonder is vital for a Christmas story. And the acceptance of wonder is required: âMan of the Worldly mindâ says Marleyâs ghost, âDo you believe in me or not?! "Seeing is believing," says the conductor in âThe Polar Express.â "but sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can't see." Christmas stories demand the embracing of wonder. Meanwhile, the depth of Wonder in a Christmas story is directly related to its next quality, the jeopardy in which something precious is placed.
Part III
      The second and third qualities found in the best of Christmas Stories are intimately joined together: Such stories must involve something precious, and that precious quality must face jeopardy. And here is where many Yule narratives go off the rails.       Too often Christmas itself is held up as the precious thing supposedly in peril. Relatives might not make it, the dinner could be ruined or maybe Santa canât make his flight and all the goodies will not be delivered. But as Dr. Seuss reminds us, Christmas is not so fragile. ââMaybe Christmas,â he thought...doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps...means a little bit moreââ. Stories that make the Christmas celebration the center point falter.       Also, romantic love, while precious, is not neatly so important as to support a Christmas story. Now here, I might expect some pushback. There is hardly anything so enshrined in our culture than the ultimate value of romantic love. After all, in Dickens' "Carol" Scrooge's nature is revealed by his dismissal of Fred's choice to marry because of love.
      âWhy did you get married?â said Scrooge.       âBecause I fell in love.â       âBecause you fell in love!â growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. âGood afternoon!â
      For many, the saddest moment in "The Carol" is Scrooge's choice to not follow his heart and marry a woman who would bring so little wealth to his situation when the norm of Dickens's age was to look for a woman who could aid oneself economically. In fact, some scholars think that Dickens worked himself into an early grave partly because he was trying to set up dowries for his two surviving daughters. It's notable that Dickens actually received some contemporary criticism in "the Carol" for encouraging young people to marry willy-nilly for love without thinking of the full consequences.       Personally, I can recall thinking that the joyful ending of "The Carol" is marred because Scrooge does not find romantic love at the end. But that is a misunderstanding. Romantic love while wonderful is precious only in its hope of becoming marital and familial love--the building blocks of our culture. Anyone who has seen more than twenty-five birthdays knows that romantic love by itself is as fleeting as a morning mist.       Romantic love is precious only in that it leads to marital and familial love. Such love may play a role in a strong Christmas story but if such fleeting affection is the centerpiece of a Yule narrative, the Christmas story flounders--a lot of sound and fury with little consequences. The bounds of marriage and children are deeply precious and the forces which put marriage and a family in jeopardy are worthy elements within a strong Christmas story. Thus, as George Bailey, in "It's a Wonderful Life," moves towards despair, it affects his marriage and family--his daughter Zuzu especially. The true tragedy that the Ghost of Christmas Past presents to Scrooge is the marriage and family he might have had.
And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; and when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed.Â
This last image is so wretched it causes Scrooge to physically attack the spirit to repress it. Â And when, transformed, he sets forth, Scrooge finds his great joy met first at church and then among his family. Â Â Â Â Â Â The best Christmas stories are those that center on humanity's loss and reclamation. Christmas at its center is the story of helpless humankind being hopelessly lost. The race teeters on despair and destruction. Although the wonder of Christmas can be assisted in fantastic settings, the central quality of Yule wonder is that in the midst of helplessness, help arrived. âThe people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shinedâ (Isaiah 9:2). Â Â Â Â Â Â This is emphasized in multiple Christmas stories. Death and sterility being "The Carol." Marley is dead, to begin with, and so is Scrooge. The narration makes it clear that they are tied together: âScrooge never painted out Old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names: It was all the same to him.â Scrooge at the beginning of the story is as dead as a coffin nail.
âOh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!.â
The fact is that the old miser needs help, even if Scrooge himself doesn't know it:
Scrooge. . .made bold to inquire what business brought him there. Â âYour welfare!â said the Ghost. Scrooge expressed himself much obliged, but could not help thinking that a night of unbroken rest would have been more conducive to that end. The Spirit must have heard him thinking, for it said immediately: âYour reclamation, then. Take heed!â
      Again, in so many of the best Christmas stories, the state of the individual is in deep peril. In Frank Capraâs âItâs a Wonderful Life,â George Bailey is near self-destruction. The top angel, Franklin, says this âman will be thinking seriously of throwing away God's greatest giftâ. Clarence knows exactly what he means. âOh, dear, dear! His life!.â       More than that, in the eyes of the very Catholic Frank Capra the contemplation of suicide places George Bailey's eternal soul in jeopardy. And the film "Joyeux NoĂŤl" depicts the events surrounding the Christmas Truce of 1914 in the midst of tragic jeopardy. Such potential terrible loss is the kind of foundation upon which the best Christmas stories are built.
Part IV
      The fourth and final quality of the best Yule narratives is that like the original good news, a Christmas Story should be inclusive. âThen the angel said to them, âDo not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people'â (Luke 2:10 KJV). Christmas is for all people, no matter one's race, gender, or age. The best Christmas stories portray the inclusion of those who, for one reason or another, were outcasts.
      This is important to the narrative because it is organic to the Christmas message. Contrary to the claims of many contemporary experts, Christianity has always been inclusive. As St. Paul writes âThere is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesusâ (Gal. 3:28 KJV). That, from a man brought up in the Pharisaical tradition, is an amazing claim. St. John writes in the last book, âWhosoever will, may come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely (Rev. 22:17b KJV). As a child, I can recall gustily belting out the chorus to P. P. Blissâ âWhosoever Will May Come:â
  âWhosoever will, whosoever will!   Send the proclamation over vale and hill;   'Tis a loving Father calls the wanderer home.   "Whosoever will may come."
(Just a side note: the American hymn writer, P. P. Bliss, from Ohio lived from 1838 to 1870 and was therefore a contemporary of Charles Dickens who lived from 1812 to 1870)
      The inclusion of the outcast, the inclusion of the enemy, is an especially vital part of Christmas stories. âGod Bless Us, Everyone!â is first Tiny Timâs and then the narratorâs wish in the Carol. Christmas should never involve the gleeful dancing by the hero over the fallen figure of his or her opponent. In "Joyeux NoĂŤl" that becomes literally true as soldiers from Germany, England and France face one another at Christmas during World War I. In Adrea Bocelli's Christmas song "God Bless Us Everyone" (featured in Disney's version of âThe Christmas Carolâ), he provides this proms:
To the voices no one hears,
We have come to find you.
With your laughter and your tears,
Goodness, hope, and virtue.
The central nature of inclusiveness is emphasized in Rankin and Bassâ âRudolph the Red Nosed Reindeerâ when the red nosed Rudolf and Hermey, the Elf who wants to be a dentist, find places within their community (as does the terrible Abdominal--whose job becomes the one who places stars on the tops of trees ). And who can forget the joyful ending when Santa arrives to gather up and find homes to all of the inhabitants of The Island of Misfit Toys. The ending which featured this rescue was a late added scene for the second yearâs broadcast because there was so much uncertainty over the fate of the toys from the showâs premier. Â That is how important inclusiveness is to Christmas. Those who think âHappy Holidaysâ is a more inclusive term miss the point entirely.
          But there is a caveat. While all are welcome in the spirit of Christmas, not everyone will come because not everyone will lay down what is killing them spiritually. Henry F. Potter from "It's a Wonderful Life" is not there in the final scene singing with the rest of his community, and it's NOT because George Bailey, his family, or his friends would have excluded him. It's because Henry F. Potter excluded himself.
      The isolating sin of idolatry is alive in our age. Whatever is placed above the light of Christmas is, in fact, a deadly hindrance--what Dickens wisely portrayed as chains on Marley. Bell, Scrooge's former fiancÊ, identifies his economic passion as idolatry:
"Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.'' "What Idol has displaced you?'' he [Scrooge] rejoined. "A golden one.''
Dickens' audience would have immediately recognized the Biblical echo of the golden calf from the Exodus story. If he had not accepted the truth given by the Spirit of Christmas Past (a metaphor for memory) Scrooge would not have found himself at his nephew's Christmas dinner. Meanwhile, if the Grinch had not seen that there is more to Christmas than packages and bags, then he would have found himself out in the snow not enjoying his roast-beast.
      Thus, whatever we hold so dear in ourselves that we will not let it go and would sacrifice all else for it, be it political affiliation, gender identification, sexual gratification, competitive economics, or national patriotism when we hold it higher than the light which Christ claimed to bring, we bare ourselves from Christmas.
      Thankfully the truth of Christmas in the best of stories is revealed to be far more penetrating, far more enduring, and far more powerful than the world thinks it is. "And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not" (John 1:5 KJV). The best of Christmas stories helps us comprehend it just a little bit more than we might have.
      So with all that being said, I sit here with my fingers hovering over the keyboard trying to compose in my head a Christmas yarn worthy of the title.  Glad there is no deadline on me as poor Charles was facing in 1843. Merry Christmas Everyone! Dec. 2022
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What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddleâand say you also had magic?
Oh boy.
Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.
For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.
Welp, there's a lot to consider here.
First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.
Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.
What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.
The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.
Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.
Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.
I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.
Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...
Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.
And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".
He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protĂŠgĂŠ (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).
I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.
Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?
Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.
Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.
Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.
I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks arenât everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magicâs probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.
I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the worldâs worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.
Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?
Probably not because Iâm muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I canât imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.
Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. âGee Tom,â I say, âNot sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why donât we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?â
No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesnât mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. Thatâs code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.
Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.
Well, thereâs no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it weâre all each other has.
Iâm the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while itâs not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and thereâs no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart wonât help.
Not to mention that, after all these years, Iâm undoubtedly lonely, Iâm in this foreign land, and heâs now the closest thing to a friend I have.
Looks like Iâm going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. Iâm not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but Iâm full of ambition.Â
This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.
For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tomâs tactics to make sure Iâm not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pigâs blood dumped on me at the prom.
Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I donât even know if theyâre wrong at this point.
Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine Iâm bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.
Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really donât care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesnât happen.
The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so thatâs a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how theyâve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.
Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.
(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. Heâs told no exceptions. Londonâs being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)
Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then weâll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.
But hey, we arenât dead.
Well, Iâm sure Tom doesnât appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isnât impressed by my pacifism, but heâs not married to Voldemort yet (probably).
Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.
What is a soul? Iâm not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.
If you must chase immortality, create a philosopherâs stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldnât be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.
Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. Iâm going to say that I can, in part because I imagine heâll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes heâs Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, thereâs no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, Iâll go with him and convince him that itâs not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.
I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but itâs worth a shot).
Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.
Dumbledore goes around taking peopleâs memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.
TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.
#harry potter#harry potter meta#harry potter headcanon#tom riddle#albus dumbledore#anti albus dumbledore#meta#headcanon#opinion
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Theory: âVampireâ Bats
âSoon actual darkness was coming into a stormy sky; while still the great bats swirled about the heads and ears of elves and men, or fastened vampire-like on the stricken.â- The Hobbit, chapter 17: The Clouds Burst.
I am far from the first to suspect that these bats are not actual vampire bats as we know them.
All known species of vampire bat are native to the New World tropics. Furthermore, while vampire bats have been documented feeding on human blood; they only do so when their usual prey (ungulates and birds) are scarce, and they certainly donât go out of their way to bite people.
However, I do think that there is, or more accurately, was a real bat species that fits the description of the bats from âThe Hobbitâ.
Necromantis lived in Europe and North Africa during the Eocene. While Eocene Europe was much warmer and wetter than modern Europe, Necromantis still wouldnât be as geographically misplaced as an actual vampire bat would be.
This large bat was almost certainly a carnivore; with strong jaws and sharp teeth. Many scientists theorize that Necromantis was an active hunter of smaller vertebrates, similar to the modern spectral bat. However, an older theory-from which Necromantis derives its name, meaning âDeath Eaterâ-holds that this bat was a scavenger. The behavior demonstrated by the bats in âThe Hobbitâ-following larger predators, and preying on the dead or dying-is perfectly in line with that of many scavengers.
These bats being at least similar to Necromantis would also explain why the orcs tolerate their presence to begin with. Its unlikely that they would appreciate being followed by bloodsucking parasites; but a small hunter and scavenger would provide useful pest control and garbage disposal services, similar to the ancestors of domestic dogs and cats.
For the Goblins of the Misty Mountains, the benefits of living with the bats wouldnât stop at cleanliness. With their keen hearing, bats could provide an intruder alarm for orcs living deeper in the cave. The bats might be trained to carry messages, similar to the birds employed by other races. Even bat feces can be a valuable resource: nitrogen-rich guano can be used as fertilizer, food for edible insects, and even as a source of raw ingredients for gunpowder!
The bats, in turn, would gain protection from predators and rivals; in addition to a reliable source of food. Orcs might even provide veterinary care to sick or injured bats; and build bat houses when natural roosts arenât available.
Thus, two demonized species work together for mutual survival in a harsh, rapidly changing world.
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comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs đ
characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi
thanks to anon for the request (ďžâăŽâ)ďž*:シďžâ§
ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)
tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint
Kenma Kuzome
bb has cat senses so he can tell when youâre sad
he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when heâs sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs
so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE
like he knows youâre sad but a part of his mind is just like âheh, (y/n) burrito.â like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!
anyway, the first thing he always does when youâre down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burritoÂ
also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if itâs at an okay volume then heâll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to sayÂ
you usually comes up with the something basic like, âwhatâs wrong?â but i mean, you donât really mind - at least heâs making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol
depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you donât think youâll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again
then heâll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordinglyÂ
assuming that you say ânoâ bc you want his presence, heâll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh
..you always comfort him so well 𼺠and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then itâll work just as well
so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, âyou know i love you, right?â , âi hope you feel better soonâ, âdo you want me to bring you some food?â
heâll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that youâre as comfortable as possibleÂ
and heâll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises ( *^-^)Ď(*âŻ^â°)
KĹtarĹ Bokuto
iâve said this before and iâll say it again - heâs such an empath and so overdramatic
so when he comes home from work and you donât run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- heâs about to burst into tears himself
so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS
emo-mode engaged :(
his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, â(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!â (಼ _ ಼)
and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating youÂ
âbokuto, get off me!â you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket
 when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worseÂ
he threw himself into your arms, howling, â(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!â
at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two
âbo! you should know youâre own strength by now.â you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes
âI KNOW!â he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck
you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, âbokuto..âÂ
there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, â(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?â
youâd explain the issue to him and heâd do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable thatâs making you sad in the first place?
like, if you were just fired from your job, heâll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you donât stop him
or if your loved one died, heâll become a fkn medium or study resurrection
or if youâre just stressed from exams/tests, heâll just be like âwhy do you need to go to uni anyway?â
âso i can get a qualification.â
âwhy do you need that?â
âso i can apply for a job.â
âwhy do you need a job?â
âso i can make money, so i donât starve.â
âyou can have my money!â
you couldnât help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naĂŻve; honestly, you couldnât even tell if he was joking or not. âwhat if we break up?-â
âDONâT SAY THAT!â he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you
Wakatoshi Ushijima
both you and ushijimaâs pride did not allow yâall to cry in front of one anotherÂ
if you ever had to cry, youâd just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out
and if he ever had to cry, heâd just do it in the shower
but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it
i mean, up until now yâall had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?
and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves
 that was, until today
you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down
ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping listÂ
but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze
like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasnât sure if he was seeing this correctly
your face was buried in your hands so you didnât notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him
it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl
like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination
after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, âuh, is everything okay?â
âeverything is fine, toshi.â you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, âdid you come down here to tell me somethi--â
âi can tell that there is something wrong.â he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. âdo you want to tell me?â
you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktopÂ
but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him,Â
âwork?â he hummed his assumption
âyeah.â you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being
but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense
Kei Tsukishima
ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE
wait no well, he doesnât make it worse but he doesnât make it better either
like heâll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesnât know how to act
this is the first time heâs seen you cry bc usually yâall keep your emotions to yourselves - youâre both v independent like that ďźďżŁď¸śďżŁ)
anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you đ
âawh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?â he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname âcouch goblinâ
ââTSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!â you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about itÂ
âbitch, i live here.â he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted
on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when youâre already sad
but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help
heâd feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he couldâve done something to make you feel betterÂ
âdo you really want me to go?â he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice
there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, âno.â then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you
he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness
âwhat couldâve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?â
âevilest blanket demonâ - that was definitely a new one, and youâd be lying if you said a small snicker didnât escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname
and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, youâve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed loveÂ
in his vocabulary, âyouâre so annoying.â is equal to âi love youâ
so him calling you an âevil blanket demonâ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery
you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listensÂ
feel free to ramble on about anything/everything thatâs worried you for the last few months bc heâs all earsÂ
he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic whoâs good with wordsÂ
if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like âuh, donât cry - i understand what youâre going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.â
so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lilâ âmhmâ or âyeahâ
heâs probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as youâre eating the meals he delivers to you and youâre staying healthy, heâll just let you mope until you feel better tbh
Keiji Akaashi
boyfie material right here
iâm hardly an akaashi simp but heâs probably the best at comforting you while youâre sad tbh
because heâs literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so heâs very good with reassuring peopleđ
also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG
heâd text you the usual âgoodnight â¤â
and youâll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply âgoodnight đâÂ
then heâll deadass text back like âiâm coming over. whatâs wrong?â
HE JUST KNOWS!! donât question it bc he doesnât even have a logical answer lol
anyway, heâll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him whatâs wrongÂ
âyouâre coping so well, (y/n).â
âiâm so proud and i love you so much.â
âis there anything i can do to make you feel better?â
âwould you like a hug?â
âyouâre beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.â
âdo you want me to get you ice-cream?â
a king- đ
also, you werenât embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry beforeÂ
plus, yâall both established at the very beginning of the relationship that youâd both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible
so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour â¨)
akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great adviceÂ
but if you donât want his advice and youâd prefer him to just listen, then he can do that tooÂ
honestly, heâd do basically anything to make you feel better đĽş
#kenma x reader#kenma x you#kenma headcanons#kenma x y/n#kenma x gender neutral reader#haikyĹŤ!!#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyu x y/n#haikyuu fluff#kenma fluff#bokuto fluff#bokuto x reader#bokuto x you#bokuto headcanons#ushijima headcanons#tsukishima x you#akaashi x reader#akaashi fluff#tsukishima fluff#tsukishima x reader#akaashi x you#tsukishima x y/n#ushijima hcs#ushijima fluff#akaashi x gender neutral reader#kenma hcs#haikyuu!!#bokuto hcs#bokuto x y/n
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i know the concept of "what if catfish but literal" is NOT original, but catcatfish were something i first designed in the middle of a lecture on the evolutionary history of vertebrate life, then continued drawing into my ichthyology lecture right afterwards. they're a DEEPLY personal project to me and have so much more depth to them beyond mere aesthetics:
catcatfish are meant to hold up a mirror to the popular concept of pets. i'm not just referring to common pets like housecats and small freshwater fish, but also to exotic wild animals that are captured and traded even when it harms the animal and the environment they are inevitably released into as an invasive species. i designed catcatfish from the ground up to be the most difficult, hard-to-accommodate parts of both a cat and a catfish: they have poor eyesight, voracious appetites, massive bodies, venomous nonretractable spines, and a need for both terrestrial and aquatic enrichment. they even have an uncharismatic method of eating, i.e. swallowing small animals (including other pets) whole without chewing. my catcatfish are not domesticated; they are wild animals that people try to house and pay serious prices for.
as an extension of this, that's why all the catcatfish variants i've designed, and will continue to design, are based on wild catfish species. i am deeply, deeply opposed to "cosmetic" pet breeds that hinder the animal's quality of life. i'm a lifelong cat owner, and all of my cats have been rescued ferals with unclear genetic histories. for this reason, you will NEVER see me drawing catcatfish based on persian, hairless/sphinx, munchkin, or scottish fold cats, along with many other breeds or inbred mutations, nor will i draw a catcatfish with long fur that would harm its ability to thermoregulate as an aquatic animal.
catcatfish are also commentary on how those outside of biological sciences talk about animals, especially wild animals that interact with humans, like possums and raccoons. i don't think an animal should be cute, safe, clean, or "cool" to be worthy of our appreciation and conservation. i wanted to make an animal that will NEVER be cooperative. catcatfish will always prioritize eating as much and as quickly as they can over anything else, and they will gladly envenomate any human trying to keep them from their next meal without a moment's hesitation. i am deeply repulsed by popular activism for animals on the basis of promoting how "badass" or "beautiful" they are, because ultimately not every animal that needs protections is going to be badass or beautiful. catcatfish are incapable of being trained or tamed. they are carnivores that will absolutely devour a screaming crying human baby if you let them. so would a coyote. so would a goblin shark. this is a deliberate statement on the popcultural concept of animal conservation. i want people to be repulsed by these facets of the animal instead of sanding them down to make them cute and friendly.
again, i'm keenly aware that the aesthetics are not original. a million other people have made cat-fish before, as well as shark puppies and other walking fish. even the biology of catcatfish is largely based on real cat and catfish biology at every level of their anatomy, from integument to metabolism. what makes a catcatfish a catcatfish is the reason i draw them, not the way i draw them. i'd rather you just make your own thing if you don't want to meet me where i'm at.
hi just letting you know that i identify so strongly with the catcatfish that i now have a fursona (scalesona?) of catcatfish. ok thats it have an epic day
ok but by being an anthro it's no longer the same animal at all! i would ask that you please call it something else. my catcatfish are a speculative biology experiment with a big emphasis on actual anatomy and physiology (i'm working on a huge guide to this with cross-section diagrams and everything) so to make them an anthro goes against the spirit of the creation :(
#listen i know you mean well but like#if you don't even know off the top of your head whether they have scales or fur then it really doesn't feel good that you want to reuse 'em#shebbz shoutz#ask#catcatfish
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okay so Owl Thoughts I guess because i am physically shaking while I type this
Foist, a CLIFFHANGER?? FOR A SERIES SEASONÂ FINALE??? BOLD BOLD BOLD BOLD BOLD BOLD BOLD BOLD!!!! AND YET TRAGEDY! FUCK YOU RAT-MOUSE CAPITALIST FUCK DISNEY.
I legitimately thought that this was the series finale, and for a whole half hour thought âOh my god, that is incredible, like an open floodgate for fanfiction.â
I wasnât sold on the Collector at first, because i really do hate âchildlike godâ characters, but that outfit has put it ALL in perspective for me. The outfit, the pronouns, the power - thatâs kids a FUCKING WIZARD. Every possible question about their behavior can be answered with âheâs a wizardâ! And on this blog, we STAN an irresponsible master of the arcane!! Fuck it up little guy! Get all the fun out before youâre locked in a crystal prison or sniped in the Wildy or something. Wizards live fast and die in-a-young-or-old-extreme-median-like-infant-mortality-affecting-medieval-average-life-expectancy and to the benefit of everyone around them.
Also, FUCK. BELOS IS BACK. Little slimey fuck is back in the human world. As a goo-bitch, which will lead to some way more interesting character dynamics as the little hitler will be forced to confront his inhumanity and pay for his crimes.
Speaking of Whittlebanes, THAT WAS A FUCKING LOT OF GOLDEN GUARD MASKS. WAY MORE THAN 16. He was murdering kids left and fucking right!!!!
Kikimora and the Coven loyalists all got a taste of the ultimate fate that awaits sub-villains: being tossed away like a c*mrag with a âyou really thought I did more than barely tolerate you...?â
Weâll see if this leads to a heel-face turn or not. Some of their crimes are too extreme to be forgiven. I wanna see that flora lady get lit up like a blunt. Kikimora is on the teetering edge though, and only because I like goblins.
And GOD, everyone is left absolutely hanging in the Isles. Eda can probably get a new arm? But CATTS has taken some damage, King is MIA and the Collector is in complete control.
Though, Iâm fairly certain itâs going to turn out that everything is okay. The collector is an irresponsible wizard-child, yes, but he also has King to lead him right. He was promised to play âThe Owl Houseâ, which sounds an awfully lot like just a domestic slice-of-life thing, especially with King instructing them on how to âplayâ, which will probably be just âlet it run and see what happens, minimal interferenceâ. If the little fucker can find hide-and-seek fun, then theyâll be blown away, captivated for century by The Sims⢠in the way Maxis intended. No deleted pool ladders here!
With the next 3 specials (?) on good old Earth, we can get some more fish-out-of-water shenanigans with the kids (Gus especially), plus, we can finally see more of Vee! 120 minutes to fill out sibling relationships, lets goooo.
The breaking-bread thing on the airship was cute! Itâs not in my culture so it did feel a little awkward on first viewing, but I know communal eating like that is a big thing for the vast majority of people, and a sign of strong family.
And, being set in the human world with a principle villain hiding in the woods, it does make it infinitely easier for my Hunter: The Parenting X The Owl House fic to actually happen. Weâll see how slimeboy faces off against a bunch of meddling magical kids AND some absolutely unhinged Imbued.
Fuck this was all so wild, I love it!
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It may be February but... why not haha.Â
Below the cut, organized in chronological order, are the fics I wrote in 2020! All put into one place :D. Thank you to everyone who read, kudosâd, commented, betaâd, and supported my writing. It was my first ever year writing fanfiction, and I am so thankful for all the friends Iâve made because of it.
<3 <3
If Not For You
Word count:Â 92,461 Chapters: 36 Rating: M
Summary:
Simon was born and raised in the midwest, and he thinks he has his life figured out. He has a girlfriend that he feels happy with, is excited to drive for his junior year, and can't wait to get away from his father when he goes away for school.
However, this all changes when his mom dies and he is carted to the east coast to start at a boarding school. Simon then has to deal with having a roommate (who hates him), living with his mother's death, and wanting to be anywhere but where he is.
To add to it all, one day he gets a strange phone call, and he wonders if his mother's death was really an accident at all.
authorâs note:
This was my first like actual fic. And my first try at writing something. This fic will always have a special place in my heart because it helped lead me to all the amazing people I now call friends <3
Not only that but it was a bit of therapy for me. (Self insert? In MY fanfiction? More likely than youâd think!)
Anyway, whenever someone comments, leaves kudos, or otherwise acknowledge that the fic exists I get emotional haha. I also have like three playlists for it too haha.
The Heist
Word Count:7456 Rating:T
Summary:
It's the fourth year of the Halloween heist, and Baz is determined to win. He thinks he has it all planned, that he knows Simon Snow through and through.
Despite this, somehow Simon still manages to surprise him.
authorâs note:
b99 AU bahaha. Need I say more??
Pay Your Fines, Snow
Word Count: 1524 Rating: T
Summary:
Baz Pitch works at the local library every summer. He's annoyed at kids who run around, people who don't follow directions, and Simon Snow- who can't pay a fine on time.
authorâs note
This fic was the first of the fics that sparked all my crazy prompts haha. It was so much fun to do!Â
There is a wonderful podfic of this made by the amazing and beautiful @xivzâ, and it also has art now by @peachpit-gabe!! Go check it out here.Â
A Rebirth
Word Count: 3374 Rating: T
Summary:
Simon and Baz need to finish their presentation for their Art History class. However, Baz also got pulled into watching his younger siblings for the weekend.
Frozen 2, chicken nuggets, sword fights, and themes of Renaissance.
authorâs note
I wrote this for the amazing @krisrix as a prompt! It was so much fun to do and I legit wrote the whole thing in like one afternoon and had it looked over and posted it haha. I still feel bad because Kris legit asked for babies and I kicked the babies out at the beginning of the fic LOL.Â
Coming Together in Three Parts
Word Count: 4639 Rating: M Chapters: 3
Summary:
Three snippets of their lives after Wayward Son.
authorâs note:
The summary definitely leaves a lot to be imagined haha. But I decided to pull a @ninemagicks and give a metaphor of threes and I love yous. So itâs three lovely stages after Wayward Son. Thereâs the I Love You, the moving in, and then a marriage proposal. I was fairly proud of this! And I did this as an exchange fic as well.Â
The Three Acts of a Wizard
Word Count: 6439 Rating: T
Summary:
Today, Baz is giving Simon a reprieve (or, that's what he is telling Simon.)
Cue a removal of cursed body parts, a grumpy fireplace who *knows* what is happening, and a shrill frizzy-haired friend threatening to poison some scones.
(this is a remix fic for @ninemagicksâ HMC AU YWSAFS
authorâs note:
I wrote this for Nenaâs birthday in the summer! Their friendship has meant the world to me, and this story is what I think gave me the gall courage to message them and harass them with 2k word comments/metas haha. If youâve not read their fic, make sure to do so!
Heaven is a Place on Earth
Word Count: 12,711 Rating: M Chapters: 5 Summary:
Five hours each week. That's all Simon and Baz get.
But we know that's all they need to fall in love...
~~
A San Junipero AU
authorâs note:
This fic idea came to me randomly and I literally wrote it in a week. I love it so much, and despite being MCD I think itâs still generally happy (I mean.. they do end up together??) Idk, it has a special place in my heart. And I made @krisrix read Baz with an american accent so... win win haha.Â
(Un)Sexy Saturday
Word Count: 6157 Rating: M/E Chapters: 9 (theyâre different stories each chapter.)
Summary:
Summaries vary by chapter. Overall itâs just a collection of silly stories where sex gets interrupted.Â
authorâs note:
Honestly this series was so fun to do. I need to continue it sometime! From beauty blender butt plugs, to swingers, to garlic allergies... it just makes me laugh haha.Â
5 Times Simon Wanted a Fistbump, and the 1 Time He Finally Got It
Word Count: 5489 Rating: T Chapters: 6
Summary:
Simon Snow hasn't had a lot of friends in his life. He has Penny, who is great, of course. He has Baz (but does he count as a friend?)
So now, seeing Shepard, he's got a chance at a friend. A bro of sorts.
Simon sees the final hurdle in their friendship to be a fist bump. A simple signal of their friendship.
But how long is it going to take to get it??
~~
5 + 1 Yearning for a Fist Bump.
authorâs note:
Simpard. Friendship. And art by @nick-eyre?? Perfection.Â
A Goblinâs Skull, Maccies, and a Door Handle
Word Count: 2017 Rating: T
Summary:
Simon Snow wakes up in a building he doesn't know, tied up and blindfolded.
Luckily his best bro Shepard is there too.
authorâs note:
Wrote this as a little bday treat for @nick-eyre :D. Decided to give Simon a friend who would also lust after goblins with him haha.Â
One Word, Four Letters, A Lifetime's Worth of Pain: IKEA
Word Count: 2428 Rating: T
Summary:
Baz comes home and notices the house is suspiciously quiet.
When he finds Simon, surrounded by unfinished pieces of furniture, he can't help but ask... why?
Authorâs note:
This was written as a birthday gift for @foolofabookwyrm! She is an absolute gem and has never been to IKEA, but now I hope she understands the struggle of building IKEA furniture haha.Â
The Beat of My Heart
Word Count: 2230 Rating: T
Summary:
Simon is kneeling on the ground, waiting for Baz to come home.
He has a question. One he's wanted to ask for a while.
authorâs note:
This was written as a birthday gift for @krisrix! A little proposal fic for the rat king <3 <3
Out of My Mind
Word Count: 10876 Rating: M Chapters: 3
Summary:
Baz and Simon are living their lives, domestic and content. They have a nine-year-old daughter, a Sunday morning routine, and plans to be alone for the first time for a while.
But when a girl who is growing into her powers reads something she shouldn't, they get into a predicament they don't expect.
authorâs note:
This was a COE gift for @krisrix! Body Swap! Parents! Married! I tried to do it all for him haha. 2020 was really the year where I was like yeah, letâs write Kris a million fics. And honestlyâwouldnât have it any other way.
Imposter vs Crewmates
Word Count: 754 Rating: T
Summary:
Everyone has their quarantine coping strategies.
Simon tried to bake bread.
Baz watched Twilight.
But Penelope...
She introduced the gang to Among Us.
authorâs note:
Look. Iâve no excuses for this lolol. Just thought itâd be silly :D.Â
The Ethics of Wanting You
Word Count: 1417 Rating: T
Summary:
Simon Snow realized recently that he has a crush on Baz.
Penny suggested he find reasons to spend more time with him, so he suggests a study session for their ethics exam the following day.
(It doesn't go as planned, but the result is very much worth it.)
authorâs note:
Birthday gift for @peachpit-gabe <3 <3. Just a cute one shot with snowbaz.
Pumpkin, Letâs Make a Patch
Word Count: 2516 Rating: T
Summary:
Simon Snow is trying to create a neighborhood pumpkin patch.
Baz, unknowingly, rips the pumpkins out of his front lawn.
(How will he make it up to him?)
authorâs note:
This was done for the COC. I based it off this cute tiktok series with this kid who rode around on his skateboard and plants pumpkins around his neighborhood.
Weathering the Storm
Word Count: 2248 Rating: T
Summary:
Shepard was nine when he first met a boy he'd learn was Simon Snow.
He was in a ditch crying, and Shepard wasn't sure what to make of him.
This boy lived in his mind until he saw him again years later.
And today, when there's a storm unlike any other in London, he knows who must be at the center of it.
authorâs note:
Honestly. This is probably one of my favorite things Iâve ever written. IDK. Itâs so short but... I love it. And if you like to listen to ficsâ @bloodiedpixie did a phenomenal podfic of it! And @nick-eyre did AMAZING art for it too <3.Â
New Beginnings
Word Count: 2090 Rating: T
Summary:
It's the first New Years Eve after the Christmas that changed everything.
After Simon Snow and Baz kissed.
After they defeated the humdrum.
After the Mage's death.
But, as many of us do, it's time to take the New Year as an opportunity to begin anew.
authorâs note:
Part of a server exchange I did for @knitbelove :D.Â
And, all of the prompts Iâve yet to put on ao3... lolol
#2020 masterpost#Caity did fanfiction#Caity does fanfiction#still#but wow I really DID that y'all#i wrote over 250k last year#YIKES#damn#anyway#this has been great#love you all
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ďź*âĄ( âáľá´áľâ ďźhello! this is intended to help manage my ask box, and serve as a resource for navigating my blog! Thank you!Â
・.â.*・シďžâŤ*.My Blog is A Safe Space.âŤ*ďžď˝Ľďžď˝Ą.â.*・シďžâŤ*..
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My Youtube (has makeup tutorials, room tours, video of my trolls and closet!)
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Other stuff i make account
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My outfitsÂ
My Playlists (x)
.âŤ*ďžď˝Ľďžď˝Ą.â.*・シďžâŤ*.
Costume Tutorials (all costumes by me):
Floral Fairy (model: Gerhardt, she/they/he)
Mushroom (model: Amanda, they/them)
Dusk (model: Ren, they/them)
Night Sky (model: me, they/them)
Sun (model: Okongâo, he/him)
Moth (model: Sophie, they/them)
Cherry Blossom Fairy (model: me, they them)
Elf Wear
How I make my fairy bras
Flower crown tutorial
Fairy skirt Tutorial
DIY Fairy Wings
Pastel Knitted Blanket
My Zines (how i make them) (rookie mag tutorial)
How to make your own toiletries
Save the Bees
Fairy Food
Making Your Own Tea
Tuna (poem)
Personal Queer Experiences and The Scientific Gaze (check TW before reading pls)
NAVIGATION/MY TAGS
My Content
Personal / Me / rabbit rambles (my text posts/life updates) / goblin ootd (my outfits) / mine (general posts that are mine) /costume making / wip (work in progress) /Â
my hula hooping (escalator tutorial)
my hoardsÂ
my room (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (ive lived in a lot of rooms)
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My Recipes
vegan chocolate chip cookies
vegan lavander lemon loafÂ
My Pals
Caige (my partner) (x)
Tuna (my and my partners tailless cat) (x)
Lemon (my and my partners cat) (x)
Ren (my best friend)
parents (x)
fan art (thank you so much to everyone who has ever made art of me, i love u with all my heart and u all deserve the world i am so blessed â-â @emmylemonade @fern-drawsâ @the-oblivion-gate @knittingnoodle @sacreddot @dawnoftheagezâ (i might have missed some and if i did im so sorry pls message me so i can tag u !!)
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self care / mental health /Â fairy self care
fashion / makeup /shoes / hair
inspiration / fav
room inspiration
feminism / political / capitalism / fuck the rcmp
art / comics / lore
wlw / mlm
lgbtqia+ / lgbt / gender /sex
cats / bunnies / rats  / mushrooms / corvids
moodboards /stim
witchy
.âŤ*ďžď˝Ľďžď˝Ą.â.*・シďžâŤ*.
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My Trolls (x)Â (troll doll video)
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my name (x), my height (x), substance use (x)
my job/career/idk (x) (x), what I do in my spare time (x)
Adding Magic to your life (x)
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positivity and affirmations (x) (x) (x) (x)Â (x)
How do I edit my photos? Snapchat, SNOW, and VSCO sometimes
Can I Draw You? YES please tag me/send it to me so i can see!
Will you make me a custom costume/art piece/piece of jewelry? YES message me to talk details and pricing!Â
What do your tags mean?
#mb = moodboard
#goblin ootd = goblin outfit of the day
#rabbit rambles = just my talking about shitÂ
No blog rates (x)Â
Sources of inspiration/influences: W.I.T.C.H. comic, Emily the strange, Neil Gaiman, Tony Diterlizzi, Jim Henson, Emilie Autumn, troll dolls, vintage toys and fashion, italian folk music, ramshackle glory/folk punk, folklore and fairytales, drag and gender fuck fashion, cats, mythical creatures, Rookie Mag, fairy kei, goth, punk, lolita fashion, pastel goth, creepy/cute aesthetics, post apocalyptic stuff,Â
Mental Health Resources:
Mental Illness Happy Hour Podcast, i especially recommend using their search box for finding specific topics, and using the forum to chat about mental health stuff, the surveys are fantastic as wellÂ
DEPRESSION
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-SUICIDE (2433) â Can use in US, U.K., Canada and Singapore
Suicide Crisis Line: 1-800-999-9999
National Suicide Prevention Helpline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
National Adolescent Suicide Helpline: 1-800-621-4000
Postpartum Depression: 1-800-PPD-MOMS
NDMDA Depression Hotline â Support Group: 1-800-826-3632
Veterans: 1-877-VET2VET
Crisis Help Line â For Any Kind of Crisis: 1-800-233-4357
Suicide & Depression Crisis Line â Covenant House: 1-800-999-9999
Trans Lifeline: https://www.translifeline.org/
National Alliance on Mental Illness  www.nami.org
DOMESTIC ABUSE
National Child Abuse Helpline: 1-800-422-4453
National Domestic Violence Crisis Line: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
National Domestic Violence Hotline (TDD): 1-800-787-32324
Center for the Prevention of School Violence: 1-800-299-6504
Child Abuse Helpline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453)
Domestic Violence Helpline: 1-800-548-2722
Healing Woman Foundation (Abuse): 1-800-477-4111
Child Abuse Hotline Support & Information: 1-800-792-5200
Womenâs Aid National Domestic Violence Helpline: (UK Only) 0345 023 468
Sexual Abuse Centre: (UK Only) 0117 935 1707
Sexual Assault Support (24/7, English & Spanish): 1-800-223-5001
Domestic & Teen Dating Violence (English & Spanish): 1-800-992-2600
Rape and Incest National Network Online Help Center: https://ohl.rainn.org/online/
ALCOHOL & DRUG ABUSE
National Association for Children of Alcoholics: 1-888-55-4COAS (1-888-554-2627)
National Drug Abuse: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
Al-Anon/Alateen Hope & Help for young people who are the relatives & friends of a problem drinker): 1-800-344-2666
Alcohol/Drug Abuse Hotline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)
Be Sober Hotline: 1-800-BE-SOBER (1-800-237-6237)
Cocaine Help Line: 1-800-COCAINE (1-800-262-2463)
24 Hour Cocaine Support Line: 1-800-992-9239
Ecstasy Addiction: 1-800-468-6933
Marijuana Anonymous: 1-800-766-6779
YOUTH & TEEN HOTLINES
National Youth Crisis Support: 1-800-448-4663
Youth America Hotline: 1-877-YOUTHLINE (1-877-968-8454)
Covenant House Nine-Line (Teens): 1-800-999-9999
Boys Town National: 1-800-448-3000
Teen Helpline: 1-800-400-0900
TeenLine: 1-800-522-8336
Youth Crisis Support: 1-800-448-4663 or 1-800-422-0009
Runaway Support (All Calls are Confidential): 800-231-6946
Child Helpline: (UK Only) 0800 1111
Kids Helpline: (Australia) 1800 55 1800
PREGNANCY HOTLINES
AAA Crisis Pregnancy Center: 1-800-560-0717
Pregnancy Support: 1-800-4-OPTIONS (1-800-467-8466)
Pregnancy National Helpline: 1-800-356-5761
Young Pregnant Support: 1-800 550-4900
Abortion Services Websites
https://exhaleprovoice.org
http://yourbackline.org
LGBTQIA+ HOTLINES
The Trevor Helpline (For LGBTQIA+ questions or problems): 1-800-850-8078
Gay & Lesbian National Support: 1-888-THE-GLNH (1-888-843-4564)
Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender (GLBT) Youth Support Line: 1-800-850-8078
Lesbian & Gay Switchboard: (UK Only) 0121 622 6589
Lothian Gay & Lesbian Switchboard â Scotland: (Scotland Only) 0131 556 4049
OTHER HOTLINES/WEBSITES
Self-Injury Support: 1-800-DONT CUT (1-800-366-8288) (WWW.SELFINJURY.COM)
Eating Disorders Awareness and Prevention: 1-800-931-2237 (Hours: 8am-noon daily, PST)
Eating Disorders Center: 1-888-236-1188
Help Finding a Therapist: 1-800-THERAPIST (1-800-843-7274)
Panic Disorder Information and Support: 1-800-64-PANIC (1-800-647-2642)
TalkZone (Peer Counselors): 1-800-475-TALK (1-800-475-2855)
Parental Stress Hotline: 1-800-632-8188
National AIDS Helpline: (UK Only) 0800 567 123
Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous www.slaafws.org
BetterHelp online counseling www.BetterHelp.com/mental
Crisis Text Line  text  741741
Sexuality and Gender Resources
Scarleteen
DNI: kink/NSFW/porn blogs, transmed/truscum, terf/swerf, racists, antisemites, nazis, thinspo/pro-ana/pro mia blogs, MAP/NoMAP/PedophilesÂ
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Recent books, SFF -
(Wow, I havenât done this in a very long time.)
- Vonda McIntyre, Dreamsnake - 1979 sci-fi picaresque that reads like fantasy, about a healer and her magic snakes. I loved it, and not only because of the tremendously good snake content (though that certainly helped) - thereâs this compassionate yet clear-sighted gaze throughout, and I loved the steady, uncluttered pacing. So glad to have read this.
- Laurie J. Marks, Elemental Logic series (reread of Fire Logic-Water Logic; first time read of Air Logic) - I have loved these books for a long time, but I found that they really went up a level for me on this reread; reading them in sequence made the overall shape of what Marks is creating come into focus and acquire a new coherence.Â
The major plot points which I know have bothered other readers (notably that extremely fire blood-ish things the characters do in the middle of Earth Logic - you know what Iâm talking about if youâve read it) have never bothered me, but this time I found them even more moving. Thereâs something so profoundly humanistic about Marksâ worldview, so expansively compassionate. There were something elements of Air Logic that didnât quite come together for me, especially in the denouement, but I have some faith that a second reading will land differently. I do think that Marks is particularly hard on the Air characters in ways that I think are slightly unfair (any of the magics, without balance and taken to its full conclusion, can be really dangerous), but itâs a subtle argument.
I wish more people I know read these books. I also wish that the elemental logic personality classification replaced the Hogwarts houses in all conversations; itâs exponentially more interesting (Iâm about 60/40 Fire and Air, if anyoneâs wondering).
- Sarah Monette, Doctrine of Labyrinths series (reread of Melusine; first time read of The Virtu and Mirador; havenât gotten a whole of Corambis yet) - these are much messier books than Marksâ or McIntyreâs, but Iâve been enjoying them a lot. Itâs interesting to see the lovable tropey-ness of Goblin Emperor in a less developed, more overtly sexualized form here; the particular tropes in question appeal to me, so it works, but I canât imagine enjoying these books if they didnât. I like how traumatized everyone is, and I really, really like Felix (also Mildmay, of course, but I feel more protective of Felix). Mirador is the weakest, I think, because it doesnât make enough, or the right kind of use of Felix. Curious what the conclusion will be like.
- Tamsyn Muir, Gideon the Ninth - after having this recommended to me by what feels like everyone, I found myself a little disappointed by it. The whole reads like a blend of Gormenghast + Gene Wolfeâs The Book of the New Sun + YA competition tropes, and all of those are things that many people love, but...I really actually donât. There are many elements of Gideon the Ninth that I enjoyed, but there was too much going on, and the jokey tone, while brilliant in some ways, meant that the world-building never totally gelled for me (yeah, itâs cool that everyoneâs a necromancer, but why? how does that serve this society?). Itâs a first novel, and Iâm curious about the sequels, and how Muir might find more of a balance.
- Kage Barker, The Anvil of the World - I almost definitely heard about this from @elucubrare, and Iâm glad I did - it was not my usual thing, but a lot of fun. Itâs an almost domestic, lightly humorous fantasy about a former assassin trying to make a new life for himself, and features some clever world-building and plot set up.
- Emily Duncan, Wicked Saints & Ruthless Gods - Like Gideon the Ninth, these are over-the-top gothy, with a ton of YA tropes being engaged with and sometimes subverted, but they are sort of tailor-made for me, and so I loved them. There are places where I could poke at the prose and plot development, but I am basically just very, very much there for this. Lots of talking to gods and blood magic and so many knives. Itâs basically my life. Anyway. (ETA: credit where credit is due; definitely heard about these from @siderealscion)
- James Tiptree, Jr., Her Smoke Rose Up Forever - this was my first Tiptree exposure, and is a very strong posthumous collection including what I am given to understand are most of her major works. I got a lot out of these stories - thereâs a bleak intensity to them, and a very particular and curious relationship with embodiment. Itâs much closer to traditional sci-fi than I normally read, but thereâs a sharp intelligence to each of the stories that fascinates me. Iâll be thinking of them for a long time.
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Mae Flowers Chapter 5
Characters: Alfie Solomons x Mae LeBlanc (OFC)
Summary: A modern, magical Alfie Solomons AU.
Warnings/Tags: Language.Magic/Supernatural. Soul mates.Some domestic fluff, getting to know you stage. Talk of the unknown.Â
Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)
When she woke to a warm spring morning, Mae was thankful she didnât have puffy eyes or a headache from crying the night before. Sheâd sobbed hard, sadness surging from an uncontrolled well of emotion that had always been within her. She was a sensitive soul sheâd been told before, both in the form of compliments and insults. Being sad that people werenât nice to her when she always went into interactions with a good heart wasnât something new to bring her down. But sheâd had something to make the roller coaster of let down shoot back up suddenly and she was caught off guard. A nice man to be kind and take care of her after the rest of the world seemed to be against her all day. It was too much for her still fragile heart to handle and despite being less sad, but mostly confused and uncertain, she cried again. She hated crying in front of others, she quickly became overwhelmed with thoughts of being less than and looking down on her for not controlling herself.
But she hadnât felt that last night. No, she felt seen and heard. She had someone to look her in the eyes and tell her her feelings were valid, that crying was healthy and being able to feel so deeply was a gift and not a burden. Perhaps thatâs why she hadnât woken up feeling an emotional hangover like she had every other time sheâd cried. Things were already proving Alfie right with how they would work better together than apart. Luckily, she had just woken up and therefore didnât have the capacity to think about that at the moment. Right now all she was really focused on was having to pee.
Alfie sees her scuttle the short distance between her room and the bathroom in her slippers and pajamas. Little shorts and a tank, all her softness wobbling with a sleepy shuffle of her small feet. He grinned, a small huff of amusement for the little fluffy goblin scuttling around her own house. Â He hears the click of the bathroom door as it opens and calls out to her, âBreakfasts almost ready. Ya in?â his neck stretches in her direction, head tilted to hear her muffled reply in the affirmative.
She entered the kitchen, hand disappearing into her bed head curls to mindlessly scratch as she yawned. âSmells good.â she approves, a sniff and a heavy-footed saunter over to the round kitchen table.
âFanks.â he mutters, multitasking with pans and spatula. ââMorninâ luv. Ya slept well I take it? Didnât a hear a peep all night.â He couldâve said my dreams were as smooth and clear as a moonless nightâs reflection atop a lake. A sure sign that she wasnât bothered in her sleep.
âYeah.â she nods, her hair bouncing as she did so. She fusses with her hair, pushing it back as he approaches the table. âOddly enough.â
âOdd will become commonplace soon enough.â a nod and a self-assured tone she hoped to emulate moves out of a barrel chest in his plain white t-shirt. She recalled the shirt from the first time sheâd seen him in her dreams. What an odd fact, she muses to herself. Perhaps he was right. âThatâs some immense hair ya got there.â he smiles down at her with an affectionate inkling in his eye and tone.
âThanks?â she gives him a quirked brow as she tilts her head up at him, peeking out from under her mop of half-formed spirals.
âWas a compliment.â he clarifies as she nods and becomes quickly distracted by the food being slid in front of her. âFull English.â he declares, his shoulders hunched as he turns to retrieve his own overflowing plate. A perk of being immortal was he could eat almost anything and everything and not give a second thought to it. He now had an excuse to make the rich comfort foods he missed. He found himself not neglecting but finding comfort in the things of old that made him, him. He had run from the messier human emotions for a long while. He ran from the things that made him human in the first place as well. That entailed disappearing and not emerging until everyone he knew was long dead. It included religion, sex, and human comforts. He was his darkness for long years, but this little sunspot was bringing him back to his old self. The things that made him Alfie before things took a turn for the worse and he became what he was now. She made him feel human again. Among other things.
âTomatoes?â she asks, her head tilted like the curious Percyâs that just jumped onto the table to sniff at the mushrooms dissapprovingly.
âBreakfast, innit?â he says, a fork in hand and a sausage already on the way into his mouth.
âAnd beans?â she keeps the same confused expression.
âItâs what we ate when money was good when Iâs growinâ up. Comfort food, that.â he points with a greasy fork across the sun-streaked table from the light coming through the patio doors.
âFull English.â she mutters as if it were still a question to her. âSâgood.â she shrugs and pushes things around on the plate.
âGot tea, English as all bloody hell.â he chuckles and points to the kettle. âCoffee, bangers, beans, bacon, beefeaters from the garden and mushrooms. Ya made me some of your soul food, ya comfort food. This is mine.â
âFood is⌠weird.â the sleep starting to fade fro her voice but clearly her mind wasnât matching up to what her mouth wanted to say.
He snorts with a mouthful of food as she chews thoughtfully. âYou gonna elaborate on that ingenious remark?â
She gives him a smile, knowing there was no ill will in his jab but agreeing that she certainly would have fleshed out what she meant more. âEveryoneâs gotta have it, but itâs different everywhere ya go. Itâs the backbone of any culture, somethinâ anyone could know about yâknow? But somehow itâs also deeply personal despite it beinâ somethinâ that everyone has.â she pauses and takes another bite. âItâs weird.â she shrugs despite that being her final statement.
âHumans are weird would be a more overlapping remark. But it goes without sayinâ. Humans can make anything personal. A rock, a meal, a string of words. Very self-absorbed, very self-important. But itâs in their nature. Means of survival ân that.â
âTheir nature? You arenât human?â
âI was. At one time. Iâm more of a vessel if you will. I am me, yeah? I hold everything that made Alfie Solomons a man, a human. But I am also timeless energy that is simultaneously full to the brim and empty all at once. Knowledge from the very beginning of time, and past the present. Iâve lived in the underworld and on this side as well.â
âThatâs⌠sorta heavy for breakfast, man.â she states blankly before they both move into a shared laugh.
âYou asked. I am here to answer.â
âThanks for answering,â she says sheepishly. âDo I also contain all that? Time and space and the whole Carl Sagan monologue?â
He gives her one of those smiles that makes her avert her eyes. The kind that handsome men have beautiful ladies when they courted them. She wasnât equipped to deal with his charm and ruggedly handsome face this early in the morning. Or ever, for that matter. âYeah, love ya do. Which is why weâll be starting with some meditation today. Help you get in touch with all that. Itâll help every facet of ya complicated self. Gotta learn restraint and control before we move onto the more⌠intense activities.â
âAm not gonna have to like..sacrifice anyone am I?â
He lets out a sudden laugh. âNah, love nothinâ of the sort. Not unless ya want to.â
âI donât.â is a quick and curt answer given. Of course, she didnât. A little ray of sunshine made of life itself wouldnât want to get messy. That was more his side of things.
âNoted.â he gives a firm nod and a supportive closed mouth smile before they both become absorbed by the task of fueling up for their work.
-------
He had asked her where she would feel most comfortable, and to no surprise to him, telepathic of not, she had said in her garden. With a reassuring hand on her back, he leads her to the middle of a grassy patch in the center of the back yard. Her land was totally enclosed with a high fence and the outlines covered in different flowers and bushes and fruit-bearing trees, buzzing with insects already so soon into spring. A warm sun beamed down, making her brown skin shine, freckles happy to soak up the rays and darken across her cheeks, the yellow light hitting her eyes and lighting them up golden with her lush mixture of green spun delicately around her tight iris. Her curls shone, the sun-kissed streaks happy to lighten with their long missed sunbaths every day from being stuck inside during the cold months. They were bouncing happily, air dried as she perched with crossed legs on the soft grass.
âThis is a lovely garden, by the way, pet. Youâve done a bang-up job on your own.â he grunts out as she adjusts his legs to mirror her.
âThank you. Iâm very proud of it.â a soft but accepting smile graces her round and darling face as she squints in the sun.
âYa should be.â he nods and clears his throat. âHave ya ever meditated before?â
âNot really no.â she shook her head. âIâve lit incense and practiced some deep breathing before. But not like... Ommm andâŚâ she pushes her middle fingers and thumbs together, resting them on her knees to explain.
He suppresses a smile at her wordless explanation of her length of knowledge on the subject. âI see.â he moves to take her hands. âYa have a hard time quieteninâ down that mind of yours donât ya?â
She nods, a hint of being ashamed in her eyes as she casts them downward.
âNow, now. No judgment here. This is Day 1, Step 1. Any progress is good progress. No progress is still practice, yeah? Iâll be gentle on ya donât worry. Not here to upset ya.â
She presses her lips together and nods and takes a deep breath to steady herself.
âNow. First, weâre gonna close our eyes, yeah?â He leads her through being in the present. Taking in the moment. Acknowledging every sound and feeling, the blades of grass tickling her bare legs, the buzz of beeâs and the warmth of the sun, a kiss of wind that rustled her hair. She could sense it all, that was fine, but now she had to let it all go. âWork to clear your mind. No worries. No curiosities and philosophical musings. Just be. If a thought comes, say âello, and let âim be on âis way.â
She smiles at his playful lit in explaining and she finds comfort now with his touch, hands clasped together between them.
âWeâre going to have a moment, now. Try to work on that for a bit. Iâm here if ya need me.â
ââKay.â is her soft reply as she tries to clear her mind. The garden fades away, but her thoughts still clumsily barge in. Worries about the future, the past, is she doing it right, was he sure he had the right girl? She tries to push it away and struggles.
âYa need help, luv?â he offers with a gentle rub of his thumb against her hand.
âYes, please.â she asks in an almost whisper of a voice.
âNo shame in asking me for help, right? So make it sound like ya arenât ashamed. Iâll ask ya again. Do you need help, luv?â
âYes.â she states clearly, louder and a nod to back it up.
âThatâs a girl. Iâm gonna use my energy to calm ya down. Donât be afraid of it. You'll feel it.â
She takes a shaky breath. âOkay. Iâm not. Thank you.â
âGood girl.â he acknowledges her attempts at being self-assured and squeezes her hands. He didnât have to, but he thought a physical cue might help her out at these early stages.
She does feel it, and it feels amazing. A shiver up her spine, his power like cool water in her veins as she exhaled in a sigh, feeling her shoulders lose their tension. Is what relaxed felt like? She didnât know her. Â âOh, wow.â she exhales.
âGood?â he asks, concern in his voice.
âSâgood.â she gives a dazed smile that he doesnât see. A grunt in response is all she receives.
Thereâs an easy silence between them. She doesnât know how long it goes on, but she felt like a popsicle left out in the sun, a puddle on the grass, a fat happy frog soaking up the sun for energy without a care. A thought floats by, and she decides to share it. âAm I...looking for something?â she asks.
âIf ya like. Itâs a bit advanced but we certainly can. You can ask a question, ask for guidance, clarity, divination. Whatever ya like.â he explains.
âIâd like to try.â her voice quiet but due to the relaxed state she was in and not from fear any longer.
âGo on, then.â he reassures her.
âDo I have to share it with the class?â the honesty in her voice makes him let out a laugh, a quiet one as not to startle her but her endearing and effortless charm was taking him by surprise.
âNah, luv.â he chuckles out and gives her hand a delicate brush with his thumb again to show support.
What do I even ask? She wondered. Iâd like to know⌠anything at this point. Okay, focus. I wanna know who he is. Who⌠we are if weâre these⌠soul mates. I just wanna know what it all means. Hmmph, not asking for much there are you. She sighs out of frustration and focuses up again.
He feels her drifting and pull back and smiles. Sheâs learning fast.
I want to know who this man is. Who is this Alfie Solomons? Do I trust him? Is he who he says he is? What is it that I feel when heâs near, this vibrating energy inside that feels like Iâm on the verge of something, good or bad I donât know. I just want to know...anything reallyâŚ.please? She would be the only one who could give puppy dog eyes to the universe and have it bend to her will.
After a short while, a not awkward silence, he feels something. A tingling in his fingers first, then moving up his arms. Were they falling asleep? It wouldnât make much sense he wonders but he soon realizes itâs coming from her. It grows warmer as if heâd sunk into a hot bath. He ran cold, like a reptile, cold-blooded before her, and feeling warm blood in his veins was something he hadnât felt in over a hundred years. A wiggle of his heart in his chest, a warm slinking feeling up his neck and into his mind. It was far stronger than anything he expected. But he would soon find out, she was a lot stronger already than he anticipated. Her coy nature and shyness a mere cover for the intensity that lies beneath. She had been protecting everyone else with her reservations, not protecting herself.
Her intention ran through him, she wanted to know him, and her power sought him out. The universe said, if you want him, have him, I only made him for you after all, and lets her creep into his mind. It all came in flashes, waves on a shore that faded in and out, too fast to grasp it all at once.
She smelled alcohol. Something sweet and deep, she could hear machines, men yelling, heavy footsteps up old wooden stairs. There were strongly scented leather books, piles of paperwork and a feeling of unease. Another wash of nostalgia washes over her, she sees a dog, happy and excited. She sees an empty bed sat in a dark room filled with books and papers, the walls covered in so many different things, both common and rare that she couldnât make them all out. She smells the strong scent of cleaning chemicals, a woman by a sink, working hard and a feeling a longing overtaking her. Thereâs a hat over the doorway, a beacon for something important, a cane by a bed, bottles that looked like medicine on a nightstand. She saw blood in the sink, a sinking in the pit of her stomach.
âMae.â she hears him echo in her head. He wasnât speaking aloud. âStop it. You donât want to go there. -I- donât want you to go there. You wonât find what you want here. Go back.â
Her eyes fluttered behind their lids, her hands grasping his, his underlying anger showing itself for her uninvited intrusion.
A hiss that wasnât Alfie snaps up and shuts her out. It speaks a language she does not know, but it doesnât frighten her, although she wonders for a moment if it should. His darkness. She knew it immediately. Sheâs endlessly fascinated. A black smoke, formless and endless whirling, moving through muck and earth as she pursued it with hungry curiosity. -Come see. Your answers.- a distinctly masculine but not human voice says, the smoke twists into a long cylindrical shape, it forms and shifts, an awe-inspiring black iridescence comes to shape. She sees a snake, endless, it could fit in her mind but was larger than the planet somehow. She knew he, his darkness, was the snake. A fitting symbol of rebirth and transformation, immortality and renewal, as death and destruction were all forms of creation in the end. It was as if she were being gifted with sight for the first time. She could see him, and know what his essence stood for.
Sunlight shone on it and the most beautiful colors came off its scales. She realized she was the source of the light. It twists up and directs her eyes to a moon. Itâs blue, purple and green, all pastel and colored like the snake. They were one, they were the night and the darkness and everything that called it home. The dirt, the death it holds, both old and new, the beasts that only emerged to worship the moon and live in the dark were its children. Every cold-blooded animal, every reptile and insect knew it and didnât fear it. So it came for her to understand, neither should she.
She sees her sun take form, moving towards the moon. She felt no fight between them. It was as if they wanted to be close, but had long been separated by the sides of the earth. Something that existed, but didnât, that faded in and out unnoticed until it was already upon you. They radiated blindingly bright together, and the behemoth snake reveled in it. She felt a strange pull, a split from herself as a rabbit came into view. The snake circled itself, mouth to tail as it writhed, an ouroboros as the white rabbit neared. The rabbit was her, she realized. She was seeing her light, the mate for his darkness. A rabbit she pondered, watching he fearless bound about in the sunlight, warm thick fur and a wet twitching nose, full of life and energy. Her light was life, fertility, and growth, creation and desire. A vulnerability, a softness unparalleled was what she contained. She suddenly understood it. Understood what it meant to be her, to be him, and thus, understood why they had been destined to find each other.
The rabbit and snake entwine, the sun and moon fusing, something that shouldâve seemed unholy or apocalyptic seemed to make perfect sense to her. It all came together, just like everything did, from the first creation to the last, sheâd always been there, and so had he. She, life, sending him, death, her gifts that he loved so much he kept them forever. A blinding light went dark and she was no longer separate from herself as she gasped and went eyed, flung back into the present, in her human body, hands tight around Alfieâs forearms, nails digging in and sweat pouring from her.
He blinked at her, the most curious expression on his face as she caught her breath. âYou understand now, donât you?â It was more of a rhetorical question at this point. âYouâre more powerful than even I knew, Mae.â he pauses again, waiting for her to process it all.
âYeah⌠I am.â she says with the first absolutely certain tone she mightâve ever had in her life.
âYouâll only grow more so from here. Youâve surpassed my expectations already.â he pats her shoulder and they meet eyes, as if for the first time. He sees her with a question and not fear in her eyes. She had found the answers she was looking for. At least she had enough knowledge now to grasp the situation. âThis is only the beginning, luv.â
I tried to reverse search the image and came up empty handed so if you know whose it is, Iâl gladly credit them.Â
@jaegeeeeerâ  @brianaisasongbirdâ @hardygal69â @emerald-bijouâ @captstefanbrandtâ @coolgh0stâ @tinastarkandcoâ @xstylishmileageâ  @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-sâ @peakys-mysticâÂ
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A Somewhat Mythology Lesson for the Faeâs Sake
I am now seeing a lot of questions regarding the Fae and have decided to do another of my HoaDS Reference Material Lessons because this was one of the things I researched a lot. Yet again, I will add links to Wikipedia as it has the most basic and easily understandable information, but this time I will also be linking to various Wikia fandoms as I relied heavily on them for inspiration.
First off, Fae (both plural and singular form) also known as fay, fey, fair folk or the traditional fairy are a type of mythical being that does not have a single origin as they are a collection of folk beliefs from a verity of sources. Â Some see them as a form of spirit, sometimes spirits of the dead, while others believe them to be demoted angels or demons, minor deities, or even as elementals. Â They are not always small-statured winged creatures, as at one-point goblins and gnomes fell into their category as well. Â Thus, there is a lot of conflicting information on the fair folk.
More often than not, the fae are usually attracted to those who are beautiful as well as wealthy and seek them out for various reasons. Â They are masters of enchantment and tend to only care about themselves even when dealing with humans but fae can be persuaded for a price. Â Traditionally, iron (and by extension, steel) is inimical to them and is often referred to as cold iron when used as a weapon against the fae.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairy
For Heart of a Dragonâs Soul, I relied heavily on both Merlin and Dresden Files as reference rather than relying on the folklore since that gave me a more narrowed down basis to work with rather than too much conflicting information. Â However, as many of my readers have found out, I used the pixies from Disney Fairies for my Wyldfae as to not have to create my own characters. Â I also stuck to using Fae(rie) for the fair folk in the series to distinguish them as different to Toothianaâs Fairies.
In most folklore, the two most prominent categories of fae are the Seelie Court and the Unseelie Court (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Classifications_of_fairies) which I stuck with for the most part but incorporated the Wyldfae as well. Â However, it should be noted, that the fae, no matter their classification, are still dangerous if crossed. Â Something I adhered to in my writing as well since it paralleled the dragons who are also Creatures of Magic willing to work with the Hairy Hooligan Tribe but are dangerous creatures in their own right. Â
The Seelie Court is the more beneficently inclined fair folk whereas the Unseelie Court, are more malicious in nature. Â These courts are also referred to as the Summer Court and the Winter Court and in HoaDS, there is a reason for the difference between Seelie Court and Summer Court as well as the Unseelie Court and Winter Court. But Iâm not sure how far I will go into explaining that as it is a part of the storyline I havenât yet to post and carries potential spoilers (there is a reason I am the Norn of Silence after all, and that is because I donât give spoilers if I can help it). However, just know for the most part, the Summer Court is the Seelie Court and the Winter Court is the Unseelie Court. Â
The Seelie Court more often than not would seek help from humans and warn those who accidentally offended them, returning human kindness with favors of their own. Â As stated before, they are still dangerous and were quick to avenge any insults to their persons. They also were prone to mischief by playing light-hearted pranks without realizing how the pranks affected humans.
The Unseelie Court, on the other hand, needed no offense to deem it necessary to bring down assault and often attacked travelers out at night. Â Just like how the Seelie Court were not always seen as benevolent, neither were the fae of the Unseelie Court always malevolent as they too became fond of particular humans if they were viewed as respectful. Â Though, those humans often times made into something of a pet, which reflected their darker aspects compared to the Seelie Court.
The last classification I use is that of the Wyldfae (inspired by the Dresden Files: https://dresdenfiles.fandom.com/wiki/Wyldfae). Â These are the fae that are bound to neither of the faerie courts as they are oftentimes seen as insignificant in the eyes of the higher-ranked fae. Â Though, in the event of a war, most Wyldfae will associate themselves with the side that they are most inclined. Â For the most part, they lived in harmony in the Wyldfae Haven, home of Pixie Hollow and the Winter Woods before itâs fall. Â Now, they mostly live in the Nevernever or have carved out a small place for themselves unseen by humans.
Now that classifications are out of the way, let's dive into fae ranks. Â Here is where I will go into the Summer and Winter Courts as laid out by the Dresden Files as it gave me the groundwork for the fae hierarchy.
SĂdhe (pronounced âsheeâ) literally means âpeople of the (fairy) hillsâ. Â This comes back to the idea that fae were spirits of the dead since the âfairy hillsâ were often burial mounts. Â Furthermore, SĂdhe was the original term for fairies in general but has since changed over time to refer to the nobility of the fae.
In HoaDS, the SĂdhe are the nobility of the fae, the upper echelon which is not hereditaryâthough that can be a determining factorâbut based on status and their abilities. Â In short, they are powerful as fuck. Â They have fought their way to the top and are still there because lower-ranking fae respect their rule and power but also because no one has managed to kill them off yet.
Originally, the SĂdhe were made up of the SĂdhe Elders which I envision are the SĂdhe Kings of Old from Merlinâs time (https://merlin.fandom.com/wiki/Sidhe_Elder) who have seen the Great Purge and witnessed the Balance disturbed. Â They might have gone a little insane from their immortality, they could have decided a purge of their own was needed, or they might have seen an opportunity to fill the vacuum of power left from the Great Purge (Iâm not saying which), which lead to the destruction of Pixie Hollow and the beginning of the SĂdhe War.
During the time of the SĂdhe Elders, it was taboo to kill another SĂdhe Elder and the punishment was death unless it was another SĂdhe Elder that committed the murder. Â In which case, the SĂdhe who committed such an offense was cursed to live the life of a mortal in body and soul. Â However, if the cursed SĂdhe sacrificed a human of great worth, either royalty or one with great magical potential, theyâd gain back their life as a SĂdhe.
After the SĂdhe War, both Courts have their own territories in the land of Faerie within the Nevernever governed by the three queens. Â The eldest of the Queen, otherwise known as The Queen Who Was, is either Mother Winter or Mother Summer, according to the court she belongs to. Â They hold no official power over the court but are extremely powerful beings as the former queens who were not killed during their reign. Â The ruling queen, The Queen Who is, is often referred to as the Winter Queen or Summer Queen and she controls the courts. Lastly, the youngest of each court is the Lady Summer or Lady Winter, The Queen Who is to Come, and is considered to be a Queen in training. The rest of the SĂdhe are akin to the Lords and Ladies of the court and take offense at not being referred to faerie rather than SĂdhe because they are above normal fae. Â (https://dresdenfiles.fandom.com/wiki/Faerie_Courts)
The Dresden Files also has a Winter King and Summer King, both of whom are technically Wyldfae but are associated with their respective seasons and are independent of the Queens. Â In SoaD, the Winter King and Summer King are more or less the protectors of the Wyldfae. It is an alliance of convenience as the two are not truly their Kings but they call them that out of respect.
Dewdrop Faeries are the weakest of the fae. Â They typically only have the magical talent for one type of magic, be it a certain element or skillset, but not much else as their magical reserves are quite low. Their size is in direct correlation with their magical capabilities, the more magic they have, the larger they are but if they expend all of their magic, the dimmer their light shines. The majority of which are Wyldfae since neither of the courts see the need to recruit such lowly creatures into their services.
Brownies are what some would be considered domesticate fae as they come out at night while the owners of the house are asleep to perform various chores and farming tasks. Â However, they are far from domesticated as they only complete the tasks in trade for a bowl of milk or cream or some other offering for the brownie left by the hearth. They are easily offended and will leave their homes forever if they feel like theyâve been insulted or taken advantage of in any way.
The Wee Folk are less of a faerie rank and more of a generalization of all the small size fae which include Dewdrop Faeries, Brownies, and the likes.
Pixies are a step above Dewdrop Faeries in power and were the original creators of Pixie Hollow, hence the name. However, upon seeing their power and capabilities, the SĂdhe from both the Seelie and Unseelie Courts swayed them to their side with promises of power, forever garnering them as loyal servants to the SĂdhe.
Please let me know if this clears things up and if there is still any confusion that doesnât count as a spoiler, I will do my best to answer. Hope you enjoyed the lesson.
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