#also would have been in some club intended for the animal care kids but she helps out anyway

[fairer-tales]

rip fanny button you would have loved being a woman in stem

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

A Cursed Reality-JJK x M!Reader (Ch.2)

Question: Do you guys prefer longer chapters or shorter chapters? I’ve been making an effort to write longer chapters but if you hate reading them I’ll write them less.

Warnings: fluff, comparison of Inumaki’s speech to a disability/handicap, cursing. Dislike of Maki (Not me. wrong bitch. I love her)

Previous || Next

Chapter Two:

[Name] actively dislikes hanging out with the second years. Not that they’re bad people in any way, it’s just he’s anxious and awkward, and even after spending a year familiarizing himself with the school and the people in it, there’s like a small group of people he would invite to his birthday party.

That and he just doesn’t care for Maki Zen’in. And it is most definitely mutual. To him, she’s just pretty. She also won’t die in a battle between her and a curse below first grade. But that’s about the end of her appeal. Of course, Panda is fun to tease but he typically plays the peacemaker between the second years. [Name] would rather not care about people in peace.

There’s no dramatic reason to it all, it’s just [Name] didn’t really come to Jujutsu Tech by choice so he hadn’t intended on making friends. He obviously failed considering he befriended Inumaki within his first day and they have some homoromantic vibes going on in their friendship.

That’s not to say you can’t platonic cuddle with your best friend but when you longingly gaze into each other’s eyes and he’s the only friend you’ve made besides an annoyingly hyper 30-year-old because no one else understands you like he does… And it kind of goes both ways considering you’re the only person he trusts himself enough to have a full-on conversation with.

Yeah, it’s not looking very good for the argument that they’re not gay. They’re not though. At least not now.  

“[Name]”

“Yeah toge?”

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind” Inumaki responded. And although he had plenty of experience saying words, having a conversation without using safe words felt a little weird. It was an aspect of who he was now and [Name] being immune to the cursed speech wouldn’t erase the problems he had with talking and it didn’t make [Name] his savior or soulmate.

Luckily [Name] was both lonely and not a complete asshole because he had no problems adapting to the switch between Toge’s ‘onigiri glossary’. Learning it was actually a really fun experience because it turns out Inumaki did not have the exact translation of all his safe words. He would just say an ingredient and [Name] had to fill in the blanks. There was a lot of trial and error and a lot of [Name] smiling down at Inumaki’s concentrated face.

“I was just thinking.” [Name] broke the contemplative silence.

“Hmm”

“You know” [Name] started again “... They say it was believed people kept their souls in their throats” and as Inumaki gave a confused denial (“fish flakes”) [Name] was internally panicking on whether or not he should keep going with this specific train of thought or make a joke to deflect from the very real and emotional but corny statement he was about to utter.

“Ah fuck it. I want to exercise the curses in the world or at least enough to keep you safe so you don’t keep damaging your soul when you use your cursed technique”

“Sujiko”

[Name] looked at Inumaki. And as if breaking off pieces of his soul didn’t matter to him, Inumaki spoke, a short sentence that stunned [Name] into silence

“I love you”

If Gojo hadn’t come in, they might’ve kissed.

“[Name]-kun!!!”

Aaaand [Name]’s sentimental mood was gone. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo definitely would get an invite to [Name]’s birthday party, but the man was like 30 running around being overly cheerful and with that teasing nature he was definitely repressing some trauma. He also definitely had some of the worst timing

“What is it Gojo?”

“No sensei at the end? So mean!

“Fushiguro was sent out to find a cursed object but he’s been out all day with no calls back home or anything. Of course I plan on going to check on my beloved student, but I am busy for the next hour or so. Can you please check on him? For your favorite sensei?”

“My favorite sensei is actually Nanami and he’s not even a sensei but yeah I’ll check on the emo kid”

‘You’re pretty emo yourself dude’ Gojo thought to himself

“Ah Thank you [Name]-kun. You’re a lifesaver” Gojo called out behind him as he left to do whatever it is crazy white haired ‘old’ men do.

‘He’s/I’m totally not doing this for free’ both [Name] and Inumaki thought at the same time.

[Name] got up suddenly and started getting ready to leave paying no attention to Inumaki who watched him get ready with a casual interest. Before [Name] headed out, he turned to look at Inumaki with a serious and concentrated expression.

“Toge.”

“I love you”

“What the hell happened here?”

“....”

“Fushiguro-kun, if you please”

“Well I only know half of the story so it’s best if we hear it from Itadori”

All eyes whipped to the shirtless Yuji who had just gotten control of his body back from Sukuna, the apparent king of curses.

“I’d say it started when I went to school this morning but I think it started a little earlier for Fushiguro. Right Fushiguro?” Yuji asked

‘I swear I’m going to explode if someone doesn’t tell me the how we got this far I mean Fushiguro is bleeding from his head, this pink haired enthusiastic kid is possessed and I can’t tell if he’s too sweet to care or if he lost a few of his brain cells when he and the little emo first year wrecked this building’ [Name] thought to himself.

Clearing his throat he began “Well okay Fushiguro has a lot of really bad injuries so is it okay with you if he just quickly shares his part and then you take over?”

“Ohh Yeah that makes sense” Itadori awed and both he and [Name] turned their attention to poor Megumi who was bleeding from his forehead.

“Yesterday I was sent to retrieve a special grade cursed object and when I got there it was gone. Gojo sensei told me I couldn’t go home until it was recovered. The next day I stalked around the school and investigated when I saw Yuji for the first time.”

“Oh I remember that. It’s my turn to take over now. Uhh. I was in the occult club with my senpais Sasaki and Iguchi and we were asking the spirits about which animal the Student Council President was weaker than ( a fish) and then he burst in the room because he didn’t approve of our club-”

“Fast forward please” [Name] interrupted

“Fushiguro found me after my grandpa died and told me Iguchi and Sasaki were in danger because of the finger so I led him to the school where they said they were going to peel off the seal”

“And that’s why we’re here” [Name] surmised

“So what’s the situation”

“Gojo-sensei”/ “Old Man what are you doing here?” Megumi and [Name] called out

“I wasn’t gonna come but the higher ups got involved. I knew you’d all be fine though, I sent [Name] here to deal with it.”

“That’s true” Fushiguo mumbled

“I’m glad you all have faith in me” [Name] started “But that means I came here for absolutely nothing”

“... So did you find it?” Gojo asked

“Um sorry.... I ate it”

Gojo who didn’t hear the whole introduction and [Name] who didn’t quite get to the eating of the finger part in the story turned to Yuji in shock

“For real”

“For real”

“Haha you’re not kidding. They’re combined. How does your body feel?” Gojo asked Yuji

“Okay”

“Can you switch to Sukuna?”

“Sukuna?” Yuji asked

“The curse object you ate”

“Oh yeah. Probably”

“Ten seconds” gojo said “Take control again after ten seconds”

“I dunno about this”

“Don’t worry. I’m the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer”

Megumi looked to [Name] after hearing a curious “hmm” but [Name]’s face showed no anger or displeasure.

“Megumi hold onto this will ya” Gojo’s voice bled through Megumi’s thoughts of who would win between [Name] and Gojo. Give it a year or two and it might actually be [Name].

“What’s this?” Megumi asked

‘It better be a fucking weapon’ [Name] thought ‘Because if he sent me out because his important business was shopping he’s gonna regret it’

“Kikufuku Mochi” Gojo replied casually before feeling bloodlust leaking from [Name]. He’ll just have to make it up to the second year somehow

“Behind you” Fushiguro called out and [Name] sucked his teeth hoping Gojo would get hit at least once. He did not get his wish once

“I’ve got a student watching so..I hope you don’t mind if I show off a little bit” . And after that Gojo commenced kicking Sukuna’s ass. Sukuna tried to monologue a little as he sent out a powerful attack, but he missed Gojo on account of Gojo’s infinity dispelling the attack. By the time Sukuna realized Gojo was unharmed it was time for Yuji to switch back.

“Oh was everything okay?” Yuji asked as he came to his senses.

“Oh what a surprise” Gojo responded “You really can control it”

“Yeah, but he’s kind of annoying”

“It’s a miracle that’s the only side effect” Gojo said right before knocking Yuji out with one finger

“If he wakes up and isn't possessed, he might have potential as a vessel. Okay question for you two. What do I do with him?”

“Even if he is a potential vessel… He must be executed under jujutsu regulations…

“But I don’t want to let him die”

“Is that a personal opinion? Gojo asked

“Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it.

Gojo smiled and the two of them turned their attention towards [Name] who had been silent throughout the whole experience.

‘Besides being a little too excitable, he’s not bad. Like a puppy. I’d keep him as a pet.’ [Name] thought

“Don’t kill him” he said

“A precious student's request. And one from my favorite second year? Of course. Leave it to me!” Gojo said before lifting Yuji up.

[Name] still a little upset he was called away for nothing, raised his hand in front of his mouth so gojo couldn’t see what he was doing and whispered

“Fall over”

“Aak! [Name]-kunnn”

Fushiguro was shocked to see Gojo faceplant on the ground with Yuji on his shoulder. If the combination of Fushiguro’s wide eyed expression and the sight of Gojo in pain made [Name] giggle a little, he’d never admit it.

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry Round-Up Post | Week 1

On Sundays during our posting period, we won't post a new work, instead you have time to catch up on the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! All links are under the cut ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!

PPS: Here are all round-up posts of LCDrarry 2021:

Round-up Post Week #1 (you’re here) 

Round-up Post Week #2 

Round-up Post Week #3 

Round-up Post Week #4

***

Art

***

Art: I am only one side of a coin.

Prompt: "Merlin", 2008-2012 Prompted by: Anonymous Artist: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Art in Photoshop Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: The better side, obviously. Merlin/Harry Potter fusion. Harry as Merlin & Draco as Arthur.

View “I am only one side of a coin” on AO3.

***

Art: No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin

Prompt: "Romeo and Juliet", Shakespeare Prompted by: @celilasart Artist: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: none

Summary: Inspired by Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare starring Draco Malfoy as Juliet Capulet and Harry Potter as Romeo Montague.

View “No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin” on AO3.

***

Art: there are dangerous men about

Prompt: "The Legend of Zorro”, 2005, Martin Campbell Prompted by: the artist Artist: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: Teen Warnings: None

Summary: Two wizards engaging in a vicious duel, but make it gay and sexy.

View "there are dangerous men about" on AO3.

***

Fic and Art

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Fic & Art: One More Lantern

Prompt: “xxxHoLiC”, 2006-2010 (anime)/2013 (live action) Prompted by: @porcelainsalt / bluedreaming @ AO3 Author/Artist: Anonymous Word Count/Art Medium: 8,373 words & Digital Art Rating: Teen Warnings: Smoking

Summary: Harry is plagued by spirits who seem intent on devouring him, and there’s only one place they can’t follow: a house hidden in wizarding London, belonging to Draco Malfoy. Harry didn’t intend to stay. He certainly didn’t foresee falling in love. Yet here they are. A slice of life where Draco is a sap, Harry buys ice cream, and spirits keep throwing their peaceful life into chaos.

Read "One More Lantern” on AO3.

***

Fic

***

Fic: (Let's Take Our Time) Just Moving Slow

Prompt: "Holidate", 2020, John Whitesell Prompted by: @Curlyy-hair-dont-care Author: Anonymous Word Count: 1,886 words Rating: Teen Warnings: none

Summary: Harry and Draco have a mutually beneficial arrangement: automatic dates for all holidays and public events, no questions asked, no obligation, no strings. It all seemed like such a good idea when they started. Harry certainly never expected to develop feelings for Draco.

Read "(Let's Take Our Time) Just Moving Slow” on AO3.

***

Fic: My Saviour Won't Stop Texting Me

Prompt: "Hercules", 1997, Ron Clements, John Musker Prompted by: @onbeinganangel Author: Anonymous Word Count: 5,012 words Rating: Teen Warnings: Texting fic

Summary: Long ago, in Ancient Greece, there was a man named Draco Malfoy who sold his soul to Voldemort. Tortured by his sins, he... oh, who am I kidding? This is a Hercules AU texting fic, not some Greek tragedy! Harry and Draco get together and everyone has phones in Ancient Greece. Please enjoy.

Read "My Saviour Won't Stop Texting Me” on AO3.

***

Fic: Ghost

Prompt: "Ghost", 1990, Jerry Zucker Prompted by: @Ladderofyears Author: Anonymous Word Count: 10,761 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: major character death (MCD), canon-typical violence, grief and mourning

Summary: When Harry is killed tragically during an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco does his best to move on. He's even a little cheered when Theo Nott starts pursuing him. Then Sybil Trelawney visits Draco.

Read "Ghost” on AO3.

***

Fic: Star Crossed

Prompt: "Romeo and Juliet", Shakespeare Prompted by: @celilasart Author: Anonymous Word Count: 13,615 words Rating: Teen Warnings: none

Summary: Two Quidditch teams, alike in dignity, In fair Great Britain, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. The Wimbourne Wasps and the Appleby Arrows have been bitter rivals for centuries. When a nasty brawl ends one of their Seekers’ careers, the teams need new blood to take up the slack and divert attention from the bad publicity. And who better to distract the press than the infamous Draco Malfoy and golden boy Harry Potter? Called back from successful careers abroad, the pair are once again to be pitted against one another in an epic feud. Too bad no one told them that before they started flirting…

Read “Star Crossed” on AO3.

***

Fic: The Slytherin Host Club

Prompt: "Ouran high school host club", 2006, Bisco Hatori and Takuya Igarashi Prompted by: @eletriptan Author: Anonymous Word Count: 14,377 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: explicit sexual content, scars, non-graphic mention of past abuse

Summary: Harry is simply looking for a quiet place to finish his Potions essay.It's a pity he ends up at the Slytherin Host Club instead. Or maybe it's a blessing in disguise, since he's had a crush on Malfoy since the beginning of his eighth year...

Read “The Slytherin Host Club” on AO3.

***

Fic: (This Will Be) An Everlasting Love

Prompt: #12 (also fulfils #6) | "While You Were Sleeping," 1995, Jon Turteltaub Prompted by: @manixzen & @thesleepiesthufflepuff Author: Anonymous Word Count: 45,139 words Rating: Teen Warnings: None

Summary: Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan. That’s what Draco’s mother always used to tell him, but Merlin, who could have predicted how right she would be? A story about feisty dragons, loneliness, family, and friends — and finding love in places you least expect.

Read "(This Will Be) An Everlasting Love" on AO3.

***

Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Author and artist reveals are on 15 June.

[sk1fanfiction]

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities. 

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

[kuroopaisen]

cause & effect || chapter 4

➵ your work friend, kuroo, has a tiny favour to ask. to say you’re surprised is an understatement. but, for some stupid reason, you agreed to it. 

warnings: f!reader, alcohol

wc: 2.1k

m.list | ch. 3 ↞ ch. 4 ↠ ch. 5

You sip the hot sake with a grimace. It’s not bad per se, just… different.

For a restaurant whose whole gimmick was hot sake, you’re surprised it clashes so much with your meal. But at least it brought you a little warmth.

Kuroo’s having as strange a time as you are. Each sip of his sake is accommodated with a grimace. Somehow, it makes him look a couple years younger.

Your legs are tucked under the futon attached to your table, but admittedly there’s not much room. Kuroo’s legs are far too long and the kotatsu much too cramped.

“Give me some room, would you?” You grin, nudging him with your knee.

“Oh, sorry,” Kuroo chuckles, adjusting himself.

This isn’t the first fake date you’ve been on with Kuroo. Well, they weren’t dates – not technically. The purpose of them was to get to know each other better; something you’d both agreed was important if you were going to pull this whole thing off.

You’d never really thought about it before, but there’s a lot of mundane information shared in relationships. Things you might not think to mention to other people, or even things you haven’t told anyone else. Not that you were saying any of that to each other – you just need to be convincingly close.

You are going to meet his family, after all.

“So,” you sigh, setting your cup on the kotatsu, “you lived with your dad, your grandmother, and your grandfather?”

“Mhm,” he nods.

“And I need to stay on my toes around them?”

“Oh yeah,” Kuroo grins. “Chances are they’ll tease the hell out of you if they get comfortable enough.”

“Great,” you chuckle.

“You’ll be fine,” he smiles. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“You sure?”

“Chances are they’ll tell you you’re too good for me.”

“Maybe I am,” you smirk, taking another sip of sake.

Kuroo scoffs. “Brutal!”

You’re not sure if he can tell you’re lying. He’s handsome, clever, and witty enough to be entertaining. You’d feel lucky to have a guy like him look your way.

Oh well, you think as you place your hands in your lap. You’re quite happy to keep that thought to yourself. There’s no good reason to feed a man’s ego.

He stretches his arms above his head, groaning. You swear you can hear his bones cracking.

“You sound like an old man,” you grin.

“Look, it’s not my fault the human body is badly designed.”

“Ah, so it’s not your fault for not looking after it properly, hm?” Perhaps he has a point. But you have to make your own fun these days.

“I’ll have you know I take very good care of my body, thank you very much.”

You’re not sure if he intended it to sound so flirtatious, but you blush anyway.

“Your bones say otherwise,” you muse.

“I won’t stand for this abuse,” he grins, standing up. “You ready?”

You follow suit, scampering after him as he approaches the cashier.

As always, he pays. No matter how hard you try to protest, he just smiles and says he feels bad for taking up your evenings.

You don��t know a casual way to say that you actually enjoy these outings.

Your solution is just buy him fancier coffees in the morning.

Kuroo deals with the transaction in the same smooth and charming way he always does, and you’re sure he’s definitely made an imprint on the dear cashier’s memory.

It’s only late afternoon, but the sky is already darkening. The trees that line the street are speckled with fairy lights, already glowing like candles in the dim twilight.

You gaze at them with a tiny sense of wonder. You’ve heard the theory that people made winter a time of celebration to give them something to pull through the dark and the cold for. Maybe that’s true – but there’s always such beauty to be find during wintertime, even if it feels like the tip of your nose is about to fall out.

Fairy lights in a tree are so small, so inconsequential, and yet so human.

You shake your head. That’s the sake talking.

You turn to Kuroo to say something.

He’s peering at you intently, eyes roaming your face.

You blush, unsure what to make of that look. Is there something on your face? “Everything okay?”

“The lighting’s good here.”

You frowned. “Huh?”

Kuroo fishes his phone out of his pocket, taking a step towards you and hovering an arm above your shoulders.

“You all good to take a photo?” He asks, and it clicks.

“Oh! Right!” You nod, almost a little too fervently. “Sure.”

He smiles, slinging his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him, tilting your face to what you believe to be your best angle.

Sure, these photos are technically ‘fake’, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look your best.

He snaps a couple of photos of the two of you before opening his gallery. The two of you take a moment to observe the handful of images.

The two of you may not really in a relationship, but you’re sure these photos could fool you.

You point at one of them, nodding. “That one looks good.”

Kuroo chuckles, adding it to his favourites. “Thanks.”

He smiles and slips his phone into his pocket as he steps away from you. You miss his warmth more than you should.

“Have they liked the photos?” You ask.

“Loved them,” he grins.

You know Kuroo’s been sending them to his family – with your permission, of course. It’s partly to satiate their desire to intrude on his love life, and also to make it more believable when you finally meet them. You have half a mind to save them to your own phone with how cute they are.

“Oba-chan’s been joking about putting them on the wall.”

You snort. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“She’s desperate,” he grins.

“She must be, if she’s considering omiai.”

Kuroo shrugs. “Ah, she’s just worried about me. She doesn’t want me to be ‘married to my work.’”

“Are you?” You ask, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh, God no.”

You laugh as you dig your hands in your pockets.

“I’ve just got a lot going on,” he explains. “I don’t have the time to date.”

“Really?” You tilt your head at him. “You kind of strike me as the kind of guy who’s content to just go home and play dating sims all night.”

Kuroo reels back, a hand on his chest. “You’re joking.”

“I thought you were single because you had some digital waifu or something.”

Kuroo stares at you with an expression of absolute horror. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“I’m just teasing,” you giggle, hopping down the street. “Okay, so if you’re not cuddling up against a body pillow of a scantily clad anime women during those lonely nights, then what do you do with your spare time?”

Kuroo scoffs, shaking his head as he jogs to catch up with you. “Well, I catch up with my friends a fair bit. Oh, and I’m part of a hobby volleyball club.”

“You play?” You look him up and down. Now that he’s said it, it makes perfect sense.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I take good care of my body,” he grins.

Another glance and you realise – yes, actually, he appears to be taking very good care of his body. Those shoulders look a little broader than you’d first thought.

“Is that why you applied for your job?” You ask. “Personal interest?”

“Mhm,” he nods.

Interesting. “Have you always played?”

“I’ve played for as long as I can remember,” he grins. “Believe it or not, but my high school team actually made it to Nationals. With me as their captain.”

“Wait, really?” You look up at him with wide eyes. Now that was certainly unexpected.

“Sure did.”

“How far did you get?”

Kuroo furrows his brow for a moment. “I think it was something like the top 16?”

“That’s… pretty impressive,” you admit. Your knowledge of sports is perhaps a little lower than might be expected of someone in your position, but you digress. Top 16 in the entire nation is definitely something to be proud of.

“Glad you think so,” he grins.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you pursue it professionally?” From your perspective he certainly has the build for it. And if there’s one thing you’re sure of after working next to him for a while now, it’s that he’s clever. A trait that seems to be surprisingly useful on the court.

“There were some real monsters on the teams we faced,” he says, voice languid as ever. “You know about Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio, right?”

You nod. Even if your understanding of the sport itself wasn’t particularly advanced, you were well-aware of the top players. That, at least, you’d made an effort to stay up to date with. Also, a lot of them were unfairly attractive – making that task a bit easier to stick to than some of your others.

“We faced them at Nationals,” he glances at you, a new glint in his eye. Maybe it’s nostalgia.

You shiver.

“That genuinely sounds terrifying.”

Kuroo grins. “It was. Oh, and you know Bokuto Koutarou, right?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Well, we were friends in high school,” Kuroo says, as if it’s the most mundane piece of information you could receive. “Our teams often practiced against one another.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. “No way.”

“I have several embarrassing photos of him to prove it,” Kuroo chuckles.

He’s so confident about it that you have no choice but to believe him.

“You have to introduce me to him,” you say, voice a little more desperate than you’d like.

“Why?” Kuroo flashes you a wicked grin. “Got a crush?”

“No,” you roll your eyes, praying your cheeks aren’t turning too red. “He just seems… nice.”

“Nice and… attractive?”

“Shut up!”

“I’m just saying, he’s technically single—”

“Aren’t I supposed to be your fake girlfriend?” You knock him with one of his shoulders to little avail. You stumble back a bit from the impact. He stays completely still.

Kuroo cackles a little louder than usual. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Who knew you were so annoying?” You scoff.

“That’s on you,” he smirks. “You’re the one agreed to this.”

“It’s a hell of my own creation,” you mumble.

“Should’ve read the fine print,” Kuroo teases.

You have half a mind to glare at him to keep this going, but a question pushes itself to the forefront of your mind.

“Wait, so…” You press your lips together, frowning. “You didn’t pursue professional volleyball because of people like Bokuto?”

Kuroo tilts his head to the side with a pensive expression. “Sort of,” he shrugs. “I guess I just felt like I didn’t have the same passion for the court that guys like him did.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I just realised my talents would be better applied elsewhere.”

“So… in marketing?”

He grins, glancing at you. “I just think that volleyball has the power to really connect people.”

You tilt your head at him.

“When I first moved to Tokyo, I wasn’t great at talking to people,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “But, because of volleyball, I found a way to… feel more comfortable opening up to people.”

The thought of Kuroo Tetsurou of all people being shy strikes you for a second. It’s hard to picture – but only for a moment.

“So,” he continues, “I want to make it easier for kids to get into this sort of thing. You never know who it might help.”

You smile to yourself. Once again, he’s being cute. And he doesn’t seem to have any clue.

“What about you?” Kuroo asks. “How’d you end up there?”

“Oh, it was just the first place that took me in,” you shrug.

He snorts. “Really?”

“Yeah. I just sent out my resume to a bunch of places and they got back to me first.”

“Oh, wow,” Kuroo grins.

“Sorry it’s not very romantic,” you blush, glancing at him.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “It sounds very reasonable.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle.

In all honesty, part of you had expected this whole ‘fake dating’ thing to be a bit of a burden. The thought of pretending to like someone a lot more than you actually do sounds draining.

But it’s not hard to like Kuroo Tetsurou. In fact, you think he’s quite pleasant company. This whole charade shouldn’t be much trouble at all.

You dutifully ignore the thought that, if this were a real date, you’d absolutely ask him if he’d like to go on another.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Three - Presage

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of Wendy’s drug use. Nothing explicitly *bad* goes on here, just some of the usual SOA shit is hinted at. :) Tig <3

MASTERLIST

Ninety degrees was horrendous. Ninety-six degrees saw Isla spiraling toward a fully-fledged mental breakdown, desperate to climb out of her own fucking flesh and melt into the parking lot outside of St. Thomas.

Seeing the Sons sporting leathers, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts underneath their cuts made her skin crawl, too.

She'd thrown on the flounciest summer dress she owned, thin and wispy, and she was still roasting to death underneath the Californian sunshine.

It felt like they were living in the fucking ass-crack of hell.

Though, with their current state and Charming's infestation of ATF and other federal agents, hell wasn't too far off the mark.

"Thanks for the ride." Isla expressed her gratitude as she slid off of the back of Tig's bike, pulling the helmet away from loose blonde curls.

"No problem, baby--you good to get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Gem here, so she'll take me back to T M in time to pick my car up," she confirmed, readjusting herself.

She couldn't risk Tig Trager getting an eyeful of her asscheeks today. Not again, anyway.

"Perfect. See 'ya later, beautiful." Isla leaned in for him to peck her cheek--which was habitual for the pair--and she did the same.

Her smile was wide. She was beaming. "Bye, Tiggy. I love you."

"Love you too, kid." He reciprocated the smile, squeezing her hand as she broke away and padded toward the steps, brushing her fingers through wind-tousled strands.

Things were, for the first time in about a week, finally looking up. Resuming a sense of normality, perhaps.

She and Trager had been on precarious terms since that day, and had been avoiding one another altogether. Which, for them, was strange.

Days went by without even so much as a word being uttered between the pair, no backhanded comments, or even sideways glances.

Usually, they'd be bickering like kids, arguing nonsensically until Clay or Chibs broke them apart--but it was all just their little bit of fun. Because they bounced off of one another.

They lauded the relationship they shared because, really, it was one of the strongest.

He'd been her official favorite since the very day that they met--he and Bobby were the two she liked to talk to whenever she felt that she couldn't confide in her father.

But the last few days were so fucking hard. She was struggling with the weight of all that she did, coupled with the stress of not being able to discern Tig's current feelings on her.

And after she'd lashed out, had bitched at him for no fucking reason, she was pretty certain that Tiggy didn't want to know anymore.

That was thrown out of the window this morning, however, when Isla's clutch blew out, and she needed a ride from the garage to the hospital to see Abel.

Of course Tig was there for her. He always would be.

"Hey." Isla spoke softly as she held the little blue bear close to her chest. "I stopped by the gift shop on the way up here--Jax said he's already got bears and balloons comin' outta his ass, so I thought what's one more?"

Gemma couldn't help but smile, gesturing for the blonde to sit with her opposite Abel's isolette.

"He'll love you for it," she joked, though she knew that she was appreciative. For her company more so the stuffed animal.

With their commitment to the club and the current battle against the ATF, Jax and Clay weren't as hands on as what they usually would've liked.

Of course, Teller was at that baby's side whenever he got the chance to break away from SAMCRO, but he wanted more. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that his little boy was being provided with the best possible care at St. Thomas.

And he was. He absolutely was. But he needed to know--for his own peace of mind, he needed to see that. So, his mother was there every waking fucking moment, giving him that love he could only get from his Grandma.

"How's he doing?" Her query was braided around a whisper, worried she'd disturb Abel's peaceful rest. "Jax said he should be coming home soon."

Gemma simply affirmed with a nod, gazing affectionately at her grandson.

It was heartwarming to see so much love, so much adoration from a woman who had a reputation for being a fucking cunt--thus proving that Gemma's main priority was her family, and their health and happiness.

That, somehow, made Isla love her even more than what she already did.

It also made her a tad jealous of Jax and the fact that he still had his mother in his life.

"He's gettin' stronger and stronger everyday. Tara said he'll be set to leave Friday--"

"Tara?" Her brow lifted as she put the bear amongst the pile of gifts. "I thought she was a doctor, I didn't think she had anything to do with the babies?"

Gemma's smile faltered a little. "She's a pediatric surgeon. Been takin' care of Abel since the start."

"Oh."

Now, she would've known that if she'd taken the time to visit her best friend's kid since he was born. But she hadn't--she hadn't even considered taking a trip over to St. Thomas to check in on Jax's baby.

And it was for the simple fucking reason that she couldn't bear the thought of facing Wendy and having to be nice to her. Especially after what she fucking did to that poor little boy.

She subsequently landed her own flesh and blood in the hospital after shooting heroin while pregnant? And she wanted Jax to pardon her for it?

Isla wasn't a hateful person, she didn't care about what people did in their spare time because that was their time.

But the moment an innocent person was harmed due to the carelessness of others...That was when she felt a scathing animosity.

"She's good with him." Gemma stated bitterly, snapping Isla from her ire-fueled daydream. "Kills me to say it, but she's a gem. A real fuckin' star."

"I'd bet. She was always good with kids."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, the older woman crossed over her arms. "Who's kids?"

Finally, Isla took a seat beside her on top of plush blue leather.

"A few of the girls we were in high school with had kids pretty young and Tara was usually super keen to hold them, or just hang out at their places whenever we weren't at school. Or it could've just been the wannabe doctor in her, now that I think about it."

"She's pretty maternal," Isla hummed in agreement, "but I'm glad she and Jax never had kids when you were teenagers--I don't know how that would've looked for him."

Suddenly, she was staring at Gemma like she had two fucking heads.

"I don't trust her." She elaborated, drawing another confused glance from Isla. "She and Jax would have been a fucking disaster had she stayed--"

"And things worked out so much better with Wendy?" A little more vehemently than intended, the blonde asked.

Now Gemma was the one shooting dirty looks.

"Look, Gem, I'm just saying. Jax and Tara are history now, yeah? You don't have to trust her. Just thank her for what she's doing for your grandson because when he's outta this place, you won't need to worry about her."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Skeptically, she asked. Arms folded over. "You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another."

That line gutted her.

It hurt her--it was agonizing--but she wasn't sure why she was so beaten by it. Because it was the truth, wasn't it?

Tara and Jax were, at one point, the strongest couple she'd ever known, and when it fizzled out he was fucking broken. She hadn't seen him so downtrodden since JT had passed, and he was suddenly left without the strength and guidance of his father.

She was his everything. Isla was a fool to think he'd be able to see her back in Charming and not feel something for her. His first love.

"I think we should throw Abel a homecoming party on Friday--if he's coming home then, that is." Gemma shifted the topic of conversation, getting to her feet.

"Absolutely. I'll help."

"Yeah?" She asked a little doubtingly, reaching over to pick Abel up. "You don't have to--I know you work Friday's."

Isla waved her off, standing beside the brunette. "I do, but it's no bother. If everyone's gonna be there, then I wanna show my face too. Offer a helping hand of some sort."

"Alright, perfect," Gem stated softly, holding the baby close to her chest. "When we get back to T M, we can figure out what we need to get."

"Sounds like a plan--" Isla was cut off by a soft knocking at the door, irritating her a little bit because she'd only just gotten there and hated the idea of having to leave already.

She made a mental note to stop by a little earlier tomorrow.

"Hey, sorry to bother you--" Tara stopped herself when she needed her estranged friend, almost dropping the clipboard she was holding against her chest.

Isla Telford was the last fucking person she expected to see today.

"Hey," with a fake smile, she greeted.

The tension was palpable.

Gemma felt the irritation washing over her favorite of the duo, urging her to turn her attention back toward her grandson before she said anything to worsen the situation.

Because she would've.

"Uh, I've gotta run a few tests on Abel before we determine that he'll be ready to leave this week, if that's alright?" Tara gestured to Gemma, ignoring Isla's presence.

That stung a little bit.

"Yeah. It's fine." The response was blunt. Terse, to a point.

"Great."

Isla realized that she wasn't wanted in that space any longer. She grabbed her purse, turning toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

"Yeah, alright," Gemma put the baby back into his crib, smiling at Isla. "You want my keys?"

"I'll wait on the steps--I'm gonna smoke--"

"Before you go," Tara cut in. She cleared her throat, trying to smile--but she just couldn't.

Telford sensed where it was going, however. There wasn't a reason for her to stop Isla in her tracks, in front of Gemma no less.

She wondered how long it'd take for it to be brought up.

"Thanks."

Gratitude genuinely swept over the doctor, letting Isla know she was truthful in her acknowledgment--or, was it more like a form of praise? Because Jax definitely told Tara what they both did for her, and she was astounded that the woman would even float the idea of helping out.

It was a strange notion. To know what she did--when she looked and acted like that--was fucking weird. And nobody would've believed her if she said that Isla helped to dispose of a dead body, which did make her laugh a little.

She knew how to hold, load, and fire a pistol, but she wasn't capable of committing the unspeakable the same way that Jax, or Chibs, or Clay were capable of it.

But she was slowly earning her title as 'Daughter of Sgt. At Arms/ Man of Mayhem.' And she wasn't sure how she liked that.

"You're welcome," she spoke plainly. "Hope everything is alright now, Tara."

"It is."

"Good." Her retort was immediate, laced with that same genuineness the other woman expressed. "You free this coming friday?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"If all goes to plan--and Abel is good to come home--we're gonna throw a little party for the boy," Gemma confirmed with a nod. "You wanna swing by? Everyone'll be there--Donna, Ope, their kids, Wendy, the rest of the Sons. You should come. It'll be nice for everyone to see 'ya again."

Wendy's name falling from those pink lips, in such a positive light, maimed Isla. She and Jax were starting to get along a little bit better now, but she was still wary of that woman.

"Yeah. It'll be great," the older woman added.

Tara felt cornered. She knew that she wasn't really wanted, and she also knew that was a way for Isla and her menopausal best friend--old enough to be her fuckin' mom--to keep the doctor as close as possible without explicitly saying that they wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. I'll stop by."

"Brilliant." Gemma conceded, slipping past the pair. "Address hasn't changed, sweetheart."

It was passive aggressive, sickly-sweet, and it was Gemma to a fucking T. The woman was loathing every second she had to spend with Tara Knowles and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

But it didn't have to be for very long, she thought.

"What was that all about? Why'd she thank you?" Gem queried as they got outside, passing the lighter to her left.

"For not breaking her fucking neck when I had the chance to all those years ago, probably."

Isla sparked her cigarette, pacing alongside her as they headed toward the car.

"That's bullshit."

"How so?"

"Just is." She could read Chibs's little girl like a fucking book. "But I won't press--if it's something between you and Tara, I don't care to hear. Just lemme know if it goes south. I can put a bullet in her for you, baby."

Isla would've laughed had she not known that Gemma was deadly fucking serious about blowing Tara's brains out.

But it was a relief. For her to give it up just like that--uncharacteristically so--was a kind of relief that she never thought she'd feel from Gemma Teller.

She was used to being protected. Used to being viewed as the one that needed to be shielded from the horrors that shrouded the Sons. But Isla wasn't innocent, nor was she fucking stupid.

The security was appreciated, however. Because, lately, things just didn't seem to be going too great for her.

And, if she'd learned anything, they'd only worsen from here on out.

"You don't have to go full mama bear mode, Gem. I'm a big girl."

She laughed, turning to face Isla.

"I know," smoke blew from her nose, "but you've gotta protect the ones you wanna keep close, y'know? The ones you love."

The tip of Gemma's boot pulverized her cigarette into the sidewalk as she fished for the car keys, avoiding eye contact all together.

"I haven't been able to protect everyone I've wanted to from the shit that goes on in this town, honey, but I'm really tryin'. And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you or my boy."

[spidercakes]

SpiderCakes Masterlist

People have asked about masterlists before and I’m usually too lazy to make them but I decided I’d organize today so here goes! I’ve made the list according to the themes/ tropes of the fics I’ve written. Starker unless labeled otherwise. A lot of these are ABO and also something else but they’re labelled accordingly. Appropriate warnings are attached to each story.

The list is below the cut because its very long.

ABO

Confessions of a Slutty Omega- ABO AU in which Peter is a YouTuber and Tony watches his channel. More of a synopsis than an actual story.

Best Friend’s Kid: fic preview in which Tony is fucking his best friend’s kid.

Random ABO AU- based off this prompt: the first time Tony really holds Peter down with his entire weight as they fuck. Peter absolutely loves the loss of control.

Traditionalist Peter: older alpha Tony and young traditionst Peter in which Peter.

Another Random ABO AU: high school AU, based off this prompt: An Abo in which omegas when severally distressed emit an high pitched call that alerts their alpha.

Prep School AU: Big ‘ol pile of smut tbh.

Young Peter: based off this prompt- 16 yro omega!peter massaging tony's knot with his hands.

Bitchy Tony: fem!Omega!Tony and alpha!Peter where Tony is well known for being a real bitch to anyone who tries to court him.

Angst AU: based off this prompt: Tony is an alpha but Peter is a beta. They can’t be together as laws prevent alphas from mating with betas so they pine in silence.

Cheerleader!Peter Punk!Tony: HS AU cheerleader Peter and punk Tony, smut.

High School AU: what’s on the tin, including a little pining.

Slutty Peter AU: Peter is used to being in charge, but Tony takes over.

High School AU: fem!omega!Tony and alpha Peter.

Gossip Girl AU: Peter is surprised to find himself on a gossip blog he’s never heard of.

CNC Young Peter: 16 year old omega Peter and alpha mob boss Tony.

Married Tony: omega Tony is married unhappily to Justin Hammer and cheats with younger alpha Peter.

50′s AU: fem omega Tony and alpha Peter.

Heat Fic: Peter helps Tony through a heat.

Beauty Queen AU: beauty pageant AU with omega!Peter and alpha!Tony.

Playmate: omega Tony teaches omega Peter how to please an alpha. Intended as multichap but I have yet to write more.

Young!Peter: Tony needs to be married by 21 or he doesn’t inherit Stark Industries.

Tease Peter: best friend’s kid trope featuring Peter the tease.

High School AU: coy Peter makes Tony work for his attentions.

Intern: Tony takes an interest in his new omega intern.

Omega Run: Peter tries to outsmart the alphas only to get outsmarted by Tony.

Just The Tip

50′s AU- ABO also, based off this prompt: how about tony letting peter put just the tip in him as a reward, and they both like it so much they go all the way.

Young Peter- based off this prompt: Mmmm how about horny 16 yo Peter using the “just the tip” argument to convince guilty!Tony.

Late Bloomer Peter- based off this prompt: Omega!Peter is a very late bloomer. Neither he nor Tony realize Peter’s going into heat until it’s too late.

Just the Tip: ABO AU, dubcon, the one that started my fascination with this trope.

Teacher Student: This fit into like four categories on here but I put it here. Just the top with teacher Tony and student Peter.

Bratty Peter: ABO AU, based off this prompt:  maybe Peter is being a brat and says he wants to ride Tony but Peter teases him by only putting the tip in.

Half Asleep Peter: ABO AU, based off this prompt: Peter is half-asleep and Tony comes home late from work, Peter tells him he’s tired. Smut ensues.

Fic Ideas (feel free to adopt any of these!)

ABO fic Idea- Meant to be long form, may never get to.

Whatever this is- WinterIronSpider, mentions of incest.

Prep School Idea- definitely starker, more than likely would have included a lot of smut and drug use lol.

Bodyguard AU: half crack half serious.

WinterIronSpider: ABO WinterIronSpider idea.

Urban Fantasy AU: vampire!Peter and incubus!Tony.

Funky BDSM YouTube AU: Tony and Peter do BDSM demonstrations and occasionally themed episodes where they try to use holiday objects as like BDSM equipment.

Royal AU: Tony loves Peter, shouldn’t because blacksmiths can’t love princes.

Naive Peter: young very naive omega Peter who gets fucked by older alpha Tony.

Mob AU: Peter gets involved with Tony after he gets in over his head with Quentin.

Random AU: Peter has had a crush on Tony ever since May started working for the Starks.

Actor AU

Karma Got is Kiss for Me

Age Difference: fic snippet in which Peter, looking for a little adventure, runs into Tony.

Mob AU

Angelic Peter: ABO, based off this prompt: angelic little omega peter who mob boss or biker tony takes a liking to.

More Bratty Peter: based off this prompt: You can’t lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset.

Kidnapping AU:  Tony deliberately kidnaps Peter because he has no patience for domestic violence and is basically offended that Beck sucks.

Smol Omega Peter: ABO AU featuring jailbait Peter.

Prequel to Smol Omega Peter: How they met in the above fic.

Shifter AU: based off this prompt: shifter au where everyone has a designated animal as well as abo.

Heir to The Mob: high school ABO AU featuring Tony as heir to the mob boss throne.

Barely Legal!Peter: ABO featuring mob boss Tony with barely legal! Peter.

Kidnapped!Peter: Peter gets kidnapped, Tony does something about it.

Mob Boss Peter: ABO Peter sleeps with Tony to intentionally fuck with mob boss Steve, whom Tony is married to.

Kept!Peter: Tony finds Peter in trouble and saves him, then chooses to pamper the hell out of him.

Stripper!Peter: mob boss Tony favors Peter when he visits the club.

Bratty Peter: Tony has to leave to take care of some things, Peter doesn’t care for that and reacts badly.

Mob Boss Peter: mob boss Peter featuring subby Tony who adores him.

Baker!Peter: Tony stark is a well known mob boss and he meets and falls in love with Baker! Peter.

Figure Skater Peter: mob boss Tony takes a liking to figure skater Peter, marriage to Quentin Beck be damned.

Harassed!Peter: mob boss Tony sees Peter being harassed and steps in.

Soulmates: mob boss Tony didn’t think he had a soulmate.

Superior Iron Man

Merperson Peter: based off this prompt: Tony takes down a rival corporation and discovers a hidden aquarium where they have captive merman!Peter. 

Manipulative!Peter: based off this prompt:  SIM being manipulated by an evil and/or mischievous Peter?

SIM AU: SIM!Tony manipulates MCU!Peter into coming home to his dimension with him.

Kidnapped Peter: based off this prompt: SIM had kidnapped Peter from the MCU dimension to replace his Peter that was murdered- SIM uses Extremis to wipe Peter’s memories.

WinterIronSpider

Pre WIS AU- based off this prompt: Peter and Tony love each other but Peter is worried about his super strength when they fuck so Bucky steps in.

High!Peter AU: WinterIronSpider high!Peter and soft Dom Tony AU feat. Bucky, the Added Element.

CNC Fic Preview: badboy type Tony and cheerleader! Peter with a splash of Bucky in there too. Incomplete.

Taboo

Stepbrothers AU: ABO featuring jealous Tony and a dash of winterspider.

Sequel to Stepbrothers AU: more jealous Tony and a dash of spidershield.

Another Stepbrother AU: WinterIronSpider- Alpha Tony shares his omega step brother Peter with alpha Bucky. 

Age Difference: based off this prompt- Peter at a picnic with Tony, Peter in little daisy dukes or something similar and summery while eating watermelon.

Non-Con Politician AU: based off this prompt- Tony comes across something shameful the young, up and coming, idealistic politician peter parker has done in the past, and holds it over his head.

Teacher/Student

Tease!Peter: based off this prompt:  Peter’s flirting not so subtly and tony ignores it until peter shows up in a short skirt and he can’t take it anymore.

Established Relationship: Peter and Tony discuss the future. D/s elements, smut.

Bathroom Fun: pure smut.

BDSM

Across The Stars: WIP, Peter takes a job as Tony’s sub to pay Ben’s medical bills after he's shot and falls into a coma. I’m only tagging this one as it links to all the other chapters.

Dom!Peter: 5 part series in which omega Peter learns he has a thing for domination and alpha Tony learns he has a thing for submission. Incomplete.

Teacher/Student AU: based off this prompt: Teacher/student (maybe an established relationship) with a whole lot of teasing. Dom Peter.

Dom!Peter: based off this prompt: Tony’s had a really long and horrible week at work and just wants to be good?

Sub!Tony: Peter accidentally becomes Tony’s Dom.

Edging: Tony edges Peter within an inch of his life.

Dom!Peter: Tony meets Peter in a club.

Drabble: Dom Peter and subby Tony.

Met Online: wherein Peter and Tony met online and decided to recreate a fantasy or two.

Miscellaneous

Trans!Tony AU- exactly what it says on the tin, smut.

High School AU: Exactly what’s on the tin, with smut/ fem Peter.

Serial Killer AU: exactly what’s on the tin.

Exhibitionist!Peter: Tony isn’t looking forward to his trip home because he knows he’s just going to be compared to his brother Steve the whole time. Peter helps.

So Sorry, Mr. Stark: Rumor has it Tony hates being called ‘Mr. Stark’ but that’s not the real reason he doesn’t want anyone calling him that.

5+1 honeymoon AU- based on this prompt: 5+1 honeymoon in which they stop their honeymoon five times to save the world and one time that they do not.

Acolyte Peter: Tony needs a replacement for Pepper and she suggests Peter.

Sensitive!Peter: based off this prompt: Peter trying to top but he's too sensitive so he either has to stop or ends up finishing too fast. 

Rock Star Tony AU: exactly what's on the tin with a moodboard.

Wedding Fluff: exactly what it says on the tin.

Crack AU: Peter and Tony have been in an on again off again relationship since high school and they both happen to be in town for the same event.

Rabbi’s Nephew Peter: literally exactly what’s on the tin, preslash.

Spoiled Peter: exactly what’s on the tin.

WingFic: based off this prompt: a wing fic/soulmate AU where when you meet your mate, your wing colours combine so that you get your mates colours on your secondary feathers.

Zoom AU: Peter introduces his class to all his pets with funky names.

Vacation AU: Peter, Ned, and Liz all vacation in Italy before going off to college.

Bratty Peter: based on this prompt: bratty!Peter possibly with an over accommodating Tony?- in which Peter mostly only pretends to be a spoiled brat.

Diety!Peter: Tony is chosen as that years sacrifice to his village’s god by priest!Howard.

Urban Fantasy AU: urban fantasy starker AU featuring vampire!Tony.

Possessed!Peter: crack AU- Tony possessed Peter, Peter forces him to deal with the consequences. 

Sex Slave AU: Headcanons around what this would look like.

Witch!Tony Familiar!Peter: Exactly what’s on the tin.

Sequel to Witch!Tony Familiar!Peter: Tony want to propose.

Camping!AU: Tony fucks Peter against a tree.

Prompt!Fic: Peter teases Tony.

Umbrella Sharing: exactly what’s on the tin. Fluff.

Possessive!Tony: Peter teases possessive Tony and it goes in his favor.

Snowball Fight: Peter hits Tony with a snowball by accident and that’s how they meet.

Pop Star!Peter Rock Legend!Tony: exactly what it says on the tin.

Media: media outlets have a heyday with Tony’s new relationship with 22 year old Peter.

Dumped!Peter: Tony comforts Peter after he gets dumped.

Cat Burglar Peter: based off prompt: Peter is a famous cat burglar and Tony is a police officer trying to catch him.

College AU: fluff mostly.

High School AU: 3 part series in which punk Tony gets with seemingly innocent Peter. The last part is linked, but all three parts are attached to the third.

Sleepy Starker: fluff piece that’s exactly what’s on the tin.

Soulmates: you don’t see in color until you meet your soulmate.

Random AU: Peter is upset that Tony never seems to mention him on social media.

Non Powered AU: Peter’s friends are really confused on what his new job is.

Moodboards

Serial Killer!Peter Detective!Tony

A Star Is Born

Kept!Peter Mob Boss!Tony

[razanartuk]

about me tag game thing

i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3

under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around

why did you choose your url?

this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.

i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.

oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.

anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.

one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:

emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier

dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.

horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.

mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.

do you have a queue tag?

no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended

why did you start your blog in the first place?

my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!

why did you choose your header?

in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.

what’s your post with the most notes?

i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.

how many followers do you have?

on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.

how many people do you follow?

i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.

have you made a shitpost?

let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful

do you like tag games?

yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward

do you like ask games?

i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing

do you have a crush on a mutual?

in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.

i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:

[pandawritesmanythings]

Folkloric Lesson

Based on @gingerwritess Loki's Happy Ending and for her 4k follower celeration! Congrats, love!

Word Count: 1743

(I must admit that this is more self-insert-y than anything, but gosh darn it I have this scenario so clear in my mind, so sue me!)

Summary: A hot meal and a music lesson, outfits included, are a good way to introduce someone to a culture, right?

It's not that you didn't enjoy eating fancy meals when you and Loki were by yourselves. Or quick homemade meals most days with Elliot and Frigg. But you missed your mom's food.

That's why when she called you to say that she had left something for you and the kiddos on the doorstep you drove as fast as the law would allow you to pick up Frigg from kindergarten and Elliot from his afterschool club to get home. Quick.

When you saw the beaten up deep pot, clearly used past it's intended years, your eyes got glossy. You remembered that old pot.

Frigg and Elliot swarmed you with questions about what was in it.

"It's smells really good!" Elliot said trying to get a peek.

"Does that mean we're not eating spaghetti again?" Frigg's eyes widened in excitement.

"Hey! You love my pasta." You pouted placing the pot on the counter before leaning down and kissing her neck as she laughed and squirmed out of your grip.

"But what is it?" Elliot asked trying to get on top of the counter to look inside the pot.

You catched him before he could climb up. "Eh! No climbing the counter. You know that!" You admonished him half-seriously.

"But I want to know!" He pouted. Oh yeah. He totally took that from you.

"Then let me open it and let's see!"

When you opened the lid a heavenly aroma rose from the pot. A soup with an array of different vegetables and some type of meat was on the pot. A little bit of the oil from the guiso still floating at the top, but not enough to make it look greasy.

Your jaw dropped when you recognized the meat. "Oh my god es lagarto..." 

"LAGARTO!?" Elliot shrieked horrified.

"What?" Frigh asked confused.

You mentally slapped yourself. You shouldn't have said it like that. While trying to make an effort for your kiddos to know a bit of your mother tongue you had completely forgotten that colloquial language was also a thing, and not every overly simplified card game with animal names in spanish could explain everything to a nine-year-old.

"No, Elliot, that's not what it means."

"Then what does it mean?" He asked, obviously concerned at the prospect of potentially eating a lizard.

"It's a way of calling this type of meat. It's part of the cow, just like any other steak. It's just a way of speaking." You smiled as his concern slowly drained from his face. "On the other hand this is one of the softest parts to eat! You guys are really going to like it!" 

Placing it back onto the stove and turning the heat on, you ask your kids to go change and come back to help you set the table for the night.

As you finished getting everything ready your mind flew back to your culture. You had to admit that there had been a certain disconnect with it ever since you had moved to New York, and it only grew as your shenanigans with Loki augmented.  But it was something that was yours and you wanted your children to also appreciate.

A smile came to your face as you thought of an idea. But you couldn't do it today. You would have to wait a bit.

Loki was delighted when he saw the gift from his mother-in-law. He was the first to admit that the relationship with your parents was... bumpy at best. But marrying a reformed super villian isn't exactly every parents' dream, is it? But they respected your decision and were supportive where they could, even if they lived a bit far away.

The meal that day was great, and there was some leftovers that you put on a Tupperware to take to work tomorrow. Nothing in the house went to waste, and that was a law.

Loki noticed whispers among you and the children for the next few weeks, and even heard a couple of times scrambling and shushing as he came home from meeting and such.

He was starting to get suspicious, especially one night, when after finally getting Frigg to sleep, he came into the room to find you pushing something far into the closet.

He wanted to ask you about it, but he trusted you. And he honestly couldn't resist when you kissed him so lovingly. It just melted his troubles away whenever you were next to him.

Almost a month later he found what all the secrecy had been about. He came in the small apartment waiting the usual scene of you and the kids getting ready for dinner, but he found something even better.

You were sitting on the floor with Frigg on your lap beaming up at him. Both of you were wearing traditional clothes from your country. Flowers decorating your hairstyle, which consisted of tying it up on a bun.

Elliot stood by your side on a male style of the traditional costume. His mop of hair covered by a traditional sewn hat.

You three beamed at his delighted confusion. And you nodded at Elliot who played some flokloric music on the speaker and, after pulling Loki to sit on the couch, you three began singing and dancing around him as you had practiced during the past weeks. The kids on a choppy, but adorable spanish, and you with the words flowing out of your mouth. Words you had known all of your life but hadn't said in a long time.

Loki was absolutely delighted at his little family and tried to partake by taking you and trying to follow your steps. And although it was very sloppy, you didn't care. It wasn't just the sheer happiness, or the smooth but old sounding man's voice that came from the speaker, it was everything. The smiles on yours and your kids' faces. The aroma of spices that Loki had never smelled before. Maybe once in a lifetime, but too long ago for him to remember it this vividly. The flow of your dress. The way it was clinging to your hips, yet it flowed at your feet, twirling almost magically as you spun around carrying a laughing Frigg on your arms. How your cleavage and shoulders were exposed by the white shirt.  It was everything. Everything that reminded Loki everyday why he loved you and why he was so happy to have chosen you over his own pride.

This was living. This was what it had meant to be alive. To enjoy the colorful moments. The mix of cultures. The beauty of the strong woman you had become. It sent him on a trip of emotions, a spiral of happiness that not even he could explain. Because now that the song had ended, his little daughter, his little miracle, said that she practiced a song and wanted to try and sing it to him. He agreed, euphoric, and you pulled him to sit on the couch and Elliot cuddled next to him to listen to his little sister.

You kneeled next to your daughter as she took a breath and began reciting the song that both of you had been practicing. A song that you had been raised with. That you grew up singing and now your baby girl was singing too. She began to sing in her choppy and wonderful spanish:

"La vaca mah-riposa tuvo un ter-ne'.

Un becerito lindo como un beh-beh!"

You giggled as you joined her to sing along with her.

"Dámelo papaito dicen los niños cuando lo ven nacer,

Y ella lo esconde por los mogotes, que no se

¡La vaca mariposa tuvo un terne'!

Y los pericos van,Y el Gavilán también,

Con frutas criollas hasta el caney para él,

Y mariposa está, que nos sabe que hacer.

Por que ella sabe la suerte de él."

Loki sees you both there. His little girl standing there looking down at her mom kneeling next to her, a loving expression. One that goes beyond words in both of your faces as you share in a song a lifetime an a million more that go from one generation to the next.

A pretty outfit that is almost identical between the both of you, Frigg's being a bit more age appropriate for a 4, almost 5 year old. And yours that accentuated your figure perfectly and made you look like a goddess from a fable from your people. A goddess of laughter, kindness and fertility that Loki was completly enamoured with.

As the song ended he and Elliot clapped as Frigg did a little bow and you followed her lead after she motioned a hand for you to do the same.

Promptly afterwards, Loki was taken hostage by the kiddos to look at the meal that they and their mom had proudly made.

Loki was amazed at the variety of foods that you had made. He saw the arepas, like the ones that you had offered him a long time ago, when hiding in your office seemed like a good idea.

"I remember these." He smirked.

You pushed past him to pick up the trays and take them to the dining table. "Oh, shut up." You smirked back.

The table was filled with many traditional dishes from your home country, surprisingly, many were fried. One had an egg on top of it and ketchup.

"Don't judge me. Judge my ancestors. I still don't get the egg. But I said "eh, I might as well go all out!"" You offered as an explanation as you placed a tray with tequeños next to the traditional drink chicha.

Loki mildly remembered parties, and banquets and feasts back in Asgard. But there was nothing in the world that could make him forget something like this. And of course, he loved to have casual dinners with you and his little family, but this felt special, it felt like when you sit next to the heart at a cozy home. It feels right and safe. And yeah, you are playing a game with Elliot and Frigg to get them to eat their veggies, not just the deliciously fried tequeños. But it was his family, it was his life, it was you and your kids in lovely folkloric outfits and feeling safe.

It was everything that he had ever wished for. And he knew that he had never expected the universe to be this kind to him. That's why he was so thankful.

---

Hope you guys liked it! And again Theo, congrats love! <3

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Written for Kataang Week 2020. Prompt - Keeping Warm.

There’s a blizzard at the South Pole, and the Water Tribe has traditions.

~~~

Hi guys! So after doing Azula Week earlier this month I was like "Oh yeah I feel like I could manage Kataang Week too!" so this is that. We'll see how it goes. Fair warning - I am not much of a shipper. I do like Kataang, a lot, but writing romance is kinda...eh. So expect me to use this week more as an excuse for character exploration and worldbuilding than actual shipfic, lol. You have no idea how many times I started to write “oral tradition” in and then had to slap my wrist like NO this is a SHIPPING WEEK and if you use that phrase people will assume it’s mature and then be disappointed when it isn’t. XD

Warnings: There's nothing explicit going on here, but we do hear about a past animal attack and said animal's death.

Enjoy!

~~~

Something heavy, furry, and large was dumped over Aang’s head, and he sputtered and laughed and breathed in the scent of well-conditioned animal hide even as he extricated himself from the massive fur pelt. “Katara, come on, you know I don’t get cold!”

Katara lifted a corner of the fur, flopped down beside him, and flipped the fur back over herself. “It’s a blizzard. Humor me,” she said, eyes sparkling in the light of the fireplace.

“You know I can easily enjoy a snowstorm in nothing but a cape.”

“Blizzard, not snowstorm,” she said, snuggling up beside him. “I don’t care about your Airbender temperature-regulation abilities, that’s a South Pole blizzard out there. It’s going to get cold by my standards.”

“I survived a North Pole blizzard without any extra layers just fine,” Aang chuckled.

“That wasn’t a blizzard, that was a regular old flurry, and you were running on adrenaline,” Katara said, snuggling up to his side. “The city was under siege, you were talking to a spirit that wanted to steal your face, Zuko had captured you again… Besides,” she added, grinning up at him, “this is cozy. And it’s my favorite blanket, so you should feel honored that I’m feeling gracious enough to share it with you.”

Aang laughed. “Okay, okay, you win.” He wrapped one arm around her. The other he poked out of their warm cocoon to examine the fur she’d wrapped them in. He was always going to be put off by the idea of dead animal skin, but the poles boasted harsh climates that the Water Tribe had perfected living in, and no other material held heat as well as fur did. This one was completely white, the hair coarse but well-cared for, and it was huge. Whatever animal it came from, it had to be enormous. “What is this, anyway?”

“Polar bear-dog,” Hakoda said. He was seated on the floor on the other side of the fireplace, also wrapped in a fur. In his hands he held a piece of whale-walrus tusk, which he carefully examined while a set of carving tools sat nearby, waiting. Kanna sat beside him, closer to the fire, keeping an eye on the labrador tea she was brewing.

“What?” Aang said, looking at the fur with new interest. “I thought you guys said they were too dangerous to hunt!”

“They are,” Bato said. He was sitting near Hakoda, removing a broken handle from a knife that needed fixing. “That one was hunting us.”

Aang stroked the fur - the closest he’d ever gotten to petting an actual polar bear-dog. Well. It was an actual polar bear-dog, just. Dead. Which didn’t count. Aang had never met a large animal he didn’t want to ride in his life, and his list of accomplishments included hog-monkeys, the unagi, and Zuko’s dragon, but everyone he’d ever spoken to in the Southern Water Tribe - and also everyone he hadn’t - agreed that he should, under no circumstances, ever attempt to ride a polar bear-dog, and had made a point of telling him so. Multiple times.

Of course he fully intended to try it anyway. What was the worst that could happen?

“So what happened?” he asked. Katara was still curled into his side, and he rested his head on top of hers and waited for the story. The Southern Water Tribe loved a good story, and they had so many of them - so much of their history was passed down in speech, not writing. And that was only partially because of the war - the Fire Nation may have destroyed much of the Southern Tribe’s culture with their attacks, but they’d been passing down their history from generation to generation long before they’d bothered with paper or a writing system. That strong oral tradition had saved so much knowledge that might have been lost otherwise. Now that they had a permanent settlement again, with enough room and resources for record keeping, they were writing things down again, trying to make the knowledge more accessible.

But nothing, Katara insisted, could beat a good story told by loved ones gathered around the fire. And blizzards, she said, were when the tribe hunkered down and enjoyed each other’s company, passing the time by telling stories, or creating art, or sharing food, or fixing things. The wind might howl outside, the snow might pile up, but you were safe and warm inside with your tribe, your family, and everyone would tell stories to help pass the time.

The wind wasn’t howling outside yet, but it would soon. One of the last things Aang and Katara had done before hunkering down for the storm was take Appa out for a flight. The sky outside was overcast, so they’d flown up, up, up until they’d broken through the clouds and seen blue again. The sky had been a sea of clouds for as far as the eye could see, freezing cold and just waiting to drop snow on the South Pole.

Hakoda hummed and raised his head from the ivory in his hand to look at Bato. “This was decades ago. We were just little kids.”

“Little enough to get snatched up by a polar bear-dog and eaten in three bites,” Bato agreed, removing the last piece of broken knife handle and examining the tang. “When it started prowling around the village that winter, our parents didn’t let us step foot outside alone.”

“It was terrifying,” Kanna joined in. “It’d been a harsh winter. It was bitterly cold, and snowed often, and the animals were getting desperate. The caribou-bison herds were either freezing to death or migrating elsewhere, and the predators were having a hard time finding food. Normally polar bear-dogs prefer to stay in the deep tundra or out on the ice floes, far away from humans, but this one was hungry that winter.” She picked up the teapot and started pouring the tea into waiting cups.

“It prowled around the village for a week,” Hakoda said.

“One of the scariest weeks of my life,” Kanna said. “You were a rambunctious child and you didn’t like being cooped up inside. Your father and I worried you’d wander out the gate and get eaten.”

“I remember seeing its pawprints in the snow,” said Bato. He had two halves of a piece of caribou-bison antler in his hand, already carved into the shape of a handle, and he was fitting them around the knife tang. “It’d circle the village, waiting for its chance. And it would howl.”

Hakoda shuddered. “I remember the howling,” he agreed. “That was awful. You’d be trying to sleep, and all of a sudden that howl would start, and you didn’t feel safe anymore.”

“We had a wall,” Kanna explained to Aang, handing him two cups of labrador tea. He passed the second to Katara. “Not much of one, our Waterbenders had been lost for years at that point. But we did have a snow wall, and we were able to maintain it, and someone was always on watch to scare the beast away when it tried to dig through.”

“Why didn’t it just attack?” Aang asked. He held the teacup beneath his nose for a moment to enjoy the piney, floral scent. Then he used some subtle airbending to manipulate the temperature a few degrees cooler and had a sip. Katara wordlessly held her own cup out, and Aang grinned and repeated the trick for her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before enjoying her drink.

“It was starving. Weak,” Kanna said, handing another two teacups to Hakoda. “It was looking for an easy meal, not a fight.”

“It almost killed my aunt,” Bato said, putting the knife down to accept the cup Hakoda passed to him. “She went out to get some fresh snow for water, and it almost got her.”

“We decided enough was enough,” Kanna said. Her hands were wrapped around her own teacup now, for the warmth. “We’d hoped it would go away by itself when it saw we wouldn’t be easy prey, but we were its only prey. It wasn’t going to leave. So we had to do something.”

Aang nodded, holding back a grimace. His people would never have killed anything if they could help it, but his people could also take their bison herds and fly away from whatever leopard-wolves or jackal-lynxes were stalking them. Life in the Water Tribe was different, as was being hunted by a desperate, determined predator you couldn’t escape. He could respect that.

“One of our most experienced fighters at the time was our former chief, Akkikitok,” Kanna said. “She’d retired a few years before, but even though she was no longer our chief she was still a respected elder and leader. She always put so much thought into the safety and wellbeing of our people.”

“Who was your chief then, if she’d retired and Hakoda was a little kid?” Aang asked.

“My mother’s father,” Katara said.

“Chief Oomailiq,” Hakoda said with a fond smile. “I learned a lot from him.”

“He got re-elected so many times,” Katara told Aang proudly.

He chuckled. “Leadership skills run in the family, huh?”

Katara’s grin was fierce.

“We decided we had to do something to protect the village,” Kanna continued the story. “So the next time the polar bear-dog came to the village’s wall, Akkikitok took her spear and her club and went out to either chase it off or fight it.” She grimaced. “She wound up fighting it.”

“Not alone, though,” Aang said, because the Water Tribe never did anything alone.

“Of course not. Our best fighters went out to support her. But she kept the animal’s attention focused on her, and she suffered many wounds before she struck the killing blow.” Kanna sighed. “She didn’t live long after the fight, but she died knowing she’d saved the village, and she considered it a good ending.”

“And that’s why you’re never allowed to ride a polar bear-dog,” Katara said, removing one hand from her teacup to poke Aang.

“Hey,” he laughed. His fingers twiddled with the white fur as he considered the story he’d just been told.

“We kept the fur, of course,” Kanna said. “We considered cutting it up to use in the tribe’s hoods, so everyone could have a piece of Akkikitok’s sacrifice. But it was decided the pelt was too precious - we very rarely kill polar bear-dogs, after all. So it was kept in one piece, and we are grateful for the warmth and comfort it’s provided us over the years.”

Air Nomads held all life as sacred. Aang found it so very comforting that the Water Tribe did too, just...in a different way. Meat was a necessary food group at the poles, furs necessary to keep from freezing to death. But the Water Tribe never took more than they needed, and every animal killed for the tribe was honored and thanked for its sacrifice.

This one had actively tried to harm the tribe, but it was still treated with respect even after death.

“So you use it as a blanket now?” Aang laughed.

Kanna smiled. “Yes, well, we’re practical.” The Southern Water Tribe hadn’t had room for anything frivolous until very recently. Their traditional lifestyle didn’t lend itself well to extraneous possessions to begin with, but decades of running and hiding from the Fire Nation hadn’t helped either.

Hakoda straightened a bit. “Oh,” he said, “we could display it now, though. In town hall.”

Kanna blinked. “Oh,” she said. “We could.” They were all still getting used to the idea of having a centralized government, of having permanent towns again.

“It’d be a good place for everyone to see the tribe’s history,” Bato mused. “Including foreign dignitaries.”

“See how important our history still is to us,” Hakoda nodded. He looked back at the piece of ivory he hadn’t figured out what to do with yet. “I’ve been considering art displays as well, but that fur is a direct tie to a beloved chief. It’s a good idea.”

Katara watched them all with a flat expression. “I know what story I’m going to tell our children years from now, Aang.”

Aang felt a flutter in his stomach at the thought of him and Katara having children. “Yeah?”

“This is the story of how I lost my favorite blanket to a museum display.”

Aang burst out laughing.

“It’s for a good cause, Katara!” Hakoda protested, grinning.

Katara pulled the fur pelt even closer around herself and Aang. “One last time, old friend,” she muttered into the hide.

“I’ll get you a new blanket,” Aang promised. “Bison fur can be really warm, and Appa definitely sheds enough for a blanket.”

“Not the same,” Katara huffed. She poked him again. “Your turn. Tell us a story.”

Aang blinked, and then he noticed that Kanna, Hakoda, and Bato were all looking at him expectantly. “Oh,” he said. “Okay. Uh…” He trailed off, thinking. He had lots of stories to share, from before, during, and after the war; it was just a matter of picking which one he felt like telling. Something funny, he thought, after the serious one they’d just told. And something new, which might be tricky - Katara had lived through so many stories with Aang, after all, and her family were already aware of a lot of them. But they’d just shared a piece of their tribe’s history with him - it would only be right to share something of his.

Which meant something from before the iceberg. Before the war.

Talking about his people could be hard. He still did it - the Air Acolytes had questions, and he had to explain his philosophy to so many world leaders who just didn’t understand. He tried to keep it abstract, matter-of-fact, but it always hurt, even if only a little.

And oftentimes a lot. There was a distressing number of people who thought that the Air Nomads’ extinction was proof that their beliefs had no value. That there was no room in the world to bring that way of life back, nor any point to it even if the Air Acolytes managed it. It made Aang want to be careful about who he shared something as precious as his people’s memory with.

But the Southern Water Tribe were survivors of the second-worst genocide the world had ever seen. If there was anyone Aang knew would understand - anyone he could feel comfortable talking about his own people and his loss with - it was them.

With that in mind, he recalled an old memory and smiled. “Alright, so back when I was like - seven? eight? - Monk Gyatso and I visited the Western Air Temple. Now there was this nun who lived there, Sister Aditi, and she had this way with animals…”

~~~

Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated. :D

I’ve always loved how Aang and Katara’s cultures are super different, yet super similar. Air Nomads were vegetarians, while the Water Tribe diet would, by necessity, focus on meat. Both cultures regard life as sacred, though - Air Nomads could just afford to be vegetarian and thus didn’t hunt, while the Water Tribe hunts to survive but also respects the sacrifice of the animals they kill. (I mean I guess that’s not in canon but they’re based on Inuit/Yupik/Native American cultures so we can infer.) Both cultures appear to live pretty sustainably. Annnnd they’ve both suffered a lot from the war. :( The idea of Katara and Aang supporting each other through the rebuilding of their cultures means a lot to me.

Aang is probably never going to fully appreciate a nice fur like Katara, but he does appreciate how important it is to her culture and her people's way of life. I really like how in the show, neither Aang nor the Water Tribe kids ever rag on each other for their diets. Sokka talks a lot about how much HE eats meat, but he never tells Aang to eat it, nor does Aang tell Sokka he should go vegetarian. They just respect each other. (There is that one time they go to a meat place in the Fire Nation but they were also trying to blend in and they let Aang bow out without comment so I'll let it pass.)

The story of former chief Akkikitok taking down a polar bear-dog and also Kya's father Oomailiq being another chief (and Hakoda's mentor) are things I first wrote about in my fic Early Birds, but I thought it'd be nice to elaborate here. As far as I can tell, Akkikiktok is Inuit and means "costs little" (cuz I didn't wanna spend forever finding her name lol), and Oomailiq is Inuit for "leader of the boat, whaling captain", friendly reminder that it's tricky verifying Native names on baby name lists so I can't guarantee that.

Sister Aditi is an Air Nomad OC of mine who I keep meaning to bring in but never have the chance to (she was literally supposed to be in the next chapter of Vintage Gaang, which I haven't updated since 2009). Her name was 100% chosen to mimic noted animal lover and spiritual man St Francis of Assissi. I swear I will use her properly in a fic someday. XD

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #358

“i know the pieces fit, ‘cuz i watched them fall away”

Would you ever own a Great Dane as a pet? Oh Lord, my mom wants one so bad. She looooves big dogs. I wouldn't, though. I don't want another dog, period. What was or is your favorite quality about your recent ex? Her resilience, strength, creativity, loyalty, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. lol. Have you ever witnessed a human being giving birth in real life? No, and I NEVER fucking will. What about an animal? Yeah, cats. What kind of things do you enjoy reading about on sites like Wikipedia? I sometimes do that for straightening out game plots after watching a let's play if I have remaining questions. Wikipedia tends to do well with compressing it. Which country’s cuisine that you haven’t tried, would you be interested in sampling? (e.g. Moroccan, Thai etc.) I wouldn't know because I'm not educated enough on foreign cuisines. What’s the last movie you watched on your own? The Shining, I think, forever ago. Fried, poached, boiled or scrambled eggs? Scrambled. Have you ever got into a club, whilst being underage? I've never tried. Are you happy with your relationship with God, or do you want more from it? I don't have one. Do you struggle with boredom? Very, very severely. I have absolutely awful anhedonia; I'm pretty much constantly bored. Literally. I just... find things to pass the time, even if I'm not really enjoying myself. What famous person do you wish you could be friends with? I'm going to assume here you don't mean a significant other, because uh... y'all been known lmaooo. I would really love to be friends with Gab Smolders (I know that's not her real name, just using her YT name), because we have very similar interests. As well, Suzie Hanson is a fucking SWEETHEART. I miss her channel. :( At some point I want to purchase some stuff from her store to support the darling. Man, thinking of this question, there's really a lot. What would you do if you were famous? Hate it, haha. Do you wish you hair were shorter or longer? It's at a fine length right now. What photo editing website or software do you use? Lightroom and Photoshop. What hair color looks best on you and what’s your natural color? I think my hair looked best black. It's naturally brown. What is your favorite show to watch? Meerkat Manor. It is so, so comforting to me. Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? Not with kids, oddly enough. I've only ever really encountered strong protective instincts with significant others like when they're sick or something like that. In school, do you/did you work better by yourself or in a group? I absolutely worked better alone. I hated group work. Do you know anyone who has a collection of old records? My mom did, once upon a time. I feel like I know someone who does now... but idk. Do you go on any forums often? Just RP ones. Would you ever agree to an open relationship with someone? Nnnnope. Do people always say you’re too thin? Uh, I have the opposite problem. Could you design a whole web page yourself? Not from scratch, no. I've only done so on free sites that give you the bare bones and easy editing. Have you ever cooked an entire dinner for your family? Definitely not. Do you prefer piano music or violin music? Ohhhh, both are beautiful, but I have to say violin. Who do you tend to get in fights with the most? My mom, I guess, not that we fight a lot. Are you attracted to spooky and macabre things naturally? YEP. Have you ever bobbed for apples? Were you successful? No. It's disgusting if you're going after others, and besides, I HATE water up my nose and have never quite figured out how to block it out without plugging it. Hypothetically speaking, if you had a child [too young to make their own decisions], what would you dress him/her up as for Halloween? It would depend on what their interests were. Do you intend to take your children trick-or-treating, if ever you have any? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I definitely would if they wanted to go. What is the coolest jack-o-lantern you have ever seen? Now THAT'S hard, I really don't know. What was your favorite candy to get from trick-or-treating? What about your least favorite? Reese's was my favorite, and I never liked Tootsie Rolls. Did you ever receive anything that wasn’t candy? Maybe? I feel like I have... Have you ever carved a really extensive pumpkin, or were they always simple carvings? Yes; I once carved a pumpkin with a raven design with "and quoth the raven, 'nevermore'" written into the back. The raven wasn't just a flat cut-out, but rather carved in layers so the light came through differently at certain depths. Are you more interested in cute, funny, “sexy”, or scary costumes? For myself, absolutely the scary ones. In general though, I'm not gonna BS ya, I love me some sexy costumes, haha, but also still scary and particularly gory ones. Have you ever intimidated or made another person feel legitimately threatened? If not, do you think that you could ever be seen as scary? I seriously hate admitting this, but Mom has confessed that my yelling has scared her before when scolding our former dog that I fucking hated. In what ways do you or would you need to be validated by a partner? (For example, liking your posts/talking about you on social media, or perhaps by doting on your with gifts.) I absolutely need words of affirmation. I just need to hear a lot that you do still like/love me. Also, if you're unwilling to actually act like we're a couple in front of ANYONE, like you're ashamed of me or something, byyyyeeee. Do you tend to succeed by weaning yourself off of something or by quitting cold turkey? It depends, I guess. Is there a specific type of pet breed/size/etc. that you don’t want? Why not? Any that have underlying medical issues, like pugs, spider ball pythons, Persian cats, etc. etc... It's just a moral thing; I don't want to support the deliberate continuation of poor genes in animals for human monetary gain. It's just wrong to me. Away from breeds, I also don't really want free-roaming animals after my cat passes, because I don't want to endanger the reptiles and invertebrates I want as pets in the future. Have you ever lived in a notoriously dangerous area? If not, would it bother you to do so? I grew up in one, yes. I never want to again. Has a friend’s significant other ever interfered with or damaged your friendship? What about a significant other of yours damaging a friendship? No. What, if anything, is something that you put pressure on yourself about? What do you imagine would happen if you did not live up to this expectation? Getting a job nowadays. I do NOT want to imagine what my life will be like if I never find employment. If you have been in a serious relationship, have you and your partner ever discussed lifetime plans that clashed? Did you reconcile them or did you break up? If you have not been in a relationship, what are some issues that would be deal-breakers? This hasn't happened, no. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now would you accept? Honestly, I want to try weed to see if it would help my anxiety, BUT I'm unwilling to ever smoke something, so no. Have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle? Yeah. Do you listen to country music? No. Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No. Were you ever a trouble maker? Not really, no. Do you shave your legs? Hell, that's debatable by this point. I haven't since this past October, but I *would* if for whatever reason someone might see my legs. I am not overexaggerating when I say I naturally have men's legs as far as hair goes, oof. Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? That's what my dad always drank when he was an alcoholic. He doesn't touch alcohol now. Have you ever gotten sloppy drunk at a party? No. Have you ever slept naked? Accidentally. Could you ever be friends with the person who hurt you most in life? I really don't think I could be. Do you actually like going to school? I never did. Have you ever really been in a “complicated relationship”? How did that work out? In your opinion, what makes a relationship “complicated”? No. I don't care enough to go into what a complicated relationship means, I think it's pretty obvious. Who was the first person you’ve ever fallen in love with? Is this a person you’re still in contact with? How do you know you’re in love with someone? Jason, and no. And you just... know. It's a wordless feeling . Have you ever successfully broken a bad habit? How about conquered a fear of something? Uhhhh I don't know, really. Well, I used to be AWFUL at picking my eyebrows, particularly when anxious, but I have gotten better at that. I still kinda do it, though. Onto the next question, I don't believe I've "conquered" a fear, but rather they just faded with time on their own. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Yeah. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? No. Have you ever tried to break a Guinness World Record? No. Can you sing your ABC’s backwards? I can't. Do you like Skittles? I love Skittles. Do you know how to read music? I used to. Who would you say has made the biggest impact on your life? Really, Jason. He ultimately led to me getting proper treatment for my depression, which changed my life. I'm in no way giving him credit for it, but you get what I mean. You can only listen to THREE CDs for the rest of your life. What are they? Black Rain and Ozzmosis by Ozzy Osbourne, and uhhh... perhaps The Black Album by Metallica. Do you own any shirts that have a year on it? Yeah, but it's way too small for me now. It's from Back To The Future, when we actually reached the date in the movie. Have you ever done another person’s make-up? Ha, I gave Jason a makeover once. Honestly, do you double dip? Not if I'm sharing the dip with other people. Who were you last on an elevator with? My mom. Do you know anyone that has a black belt in karate? Not to my knowledge. How often do you wear hats? Never. Who is the youngest gay person you know? *shrug* Have you ever watched an animal being eaten by another animal? I've seen cats eat mice and stuff as a kid. What is the strangest, most “out there” thing you believe? Some people I'm sure would consider the fact I believe the government was involved in 9/11 as "out there," but when you look into it, it's far from "out there." Do you get along with people who are especially religious? Why/why not? It depends on how they act about it, not what they keep in their head. Now if they have just purely hateful beliefs that demonize another's existence, then no, we can't get along. Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait? Painted, yes, for an art class. Do you have any interesting pillow cases? No. Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Bees, generally. Especially if we're talking things like wasps, who are just demon spawns. Would you rather donate time, blood, or money? That's a really hard question, but I guess time? Like I'm thinking volunteer work and stuff, or listening to and comforting someone. Can grills be sexy on a guy? They're sexy on absolutely no one. Last strong smell you can remember smelling? Ugh, gasoline. This one car in front of my mom and me smelled awful. Last healthy thing you ate? Apples. Do you know anybody who was abused? Emotionally, yes. Do your parents volunteer anywhere? No. Do you have a steering wheel cover? Mom's car doesn't. What do you think of when you see sharp knives? This is really morbid, but I will immediately envision what it would be like to be stabbed. I'm very afraid of knives. The highway and back roads take you to the same place; choose your route. The back roads, of course. And let me bring my camera.

[endysgirl]

Sailor Mars Birthday Tribute

I am so late on posting this but I just did not have time to edit. For Mars I wanted to talk about her 90s anime version and her much better manga version.

Let me start by laying my bias wide open. I never liked Sailor Mars. As a kid I thought she was unnecessarily mean. She was and still is my least favorite, besides ChibiMoon. She’s beautiful, and her powers and attacks are awesome. As for how she fits into the overall scheme of things, I have major issues with how the anime portrayed her compared to how Naoko intentioned her. Frankly, I can’t help but view 90s anime Rei as an imposter and I’ll explain why...

Ok, first let’s talk about 90’s anime-Rei. We know she’s very hard working, goes to an elite girls’s Catholic school and wants to be an independent career woman when she grows up. Yet, for some reason (*cough*patriarchy) she sees Mamoru in season one and thinks he’s perfect so she’s gotta have him. She embarrasses herself going all boy crazy over him (he literally steps on her head and just walks away) and he seems like a typical clueless dude who doesn’t realize she *likes* him. I relate hardcore to Mamoru here. She’s so thirsty and he is so not. Then fast forward to after Endymion gets taken and Rei slaps Usagi calling her a coward. It’s meant to be some great emotional scene that some fans latch on to. Yet, it’s not Rei’s slap that motivates Usagi. It just hurts her. Go watch it again (epi35); it’s the voice of Mask from her memory, gently and patiently encouraging her, as always, that she is strong and can fight that spurs Moon into action. We’ve seen over and over that Usagi responds to patient encouragement over violence, just like when she does when she faces the baddest villains. Yet, the 90s anime always has Rei cutting her down. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just the patriarchy at work, trying to convince young girls that the boy or girl who’s mean to you really does care about you. It’s toxic and just plain stupid.

Now, am I saying 90s anime Rei doesn’t really care about Usagi? No. Not at all. She’s her Senshi and they share the same heart and the same dream to protect those they love together. Of course she loves Usagi. My issue is how the 90s anime portrays that dynamic. It’s spreading toxicity within female friendships and trying to sell it as genuine. I also understand that Mars’s fiery personality is what a lot of her fans love about her. I’m not saying that’s bad either, even if it’s an inaccurate representation of the character Naoko created. Apparently, it was Ikuhara that wanted the anime to change her cold and aloof personality to “fiery”. To perpetuate the patriarchal tropes I’ve mentioned, the anime tried to paint her as Usagi’s bff of the group, usurping Minako’s place. In the manga, Minako is the Leader of the Senshi and the one closest to Usagi in personality and in her role as the Leader of Serenity’s guards. Yet the anime is constantly trying to make Mars the one that is extra special to Usagi. Case in point, at the end of Stars the first voice we hear address Eternal Moon after she defeats Galaxia is Rei but in the manga, Usagi is drawn hugging Minako first. These little moments bother me, probably a little too much.

Then there’s the love triangle they tried to created with her and Mamoru. Fucking kill me. The love triangle garbage is just typical, patriarchal tropism within the storyline that has no place in the SM story in regards to Mars. Let’s make two friends like the same dude bc that’s drama that people have been conditioned to enjoy. It’s lame as far as I’m concerned. Let’s take a moment to remember the random, stupid and pointless scene in the curry episode where ChibiUsa and Mamoru run into Rei and after a moment of awkwardness they decide to go find Usagi together. Tell me that’s not the patriarchy trying to validate one woman’s place by using another woman as comparison instead of letting her stand on her own. 😒 And they’re trying to backtrack on the whole Rei liking Mamoru episode. This isn’t Rei’s fault obviously, I’m just using this scene to explicate why I don’t like the dynamic the anime created, and why that makes Mars a difficult one for me to get excited about.

There’s no way you can convince me that Mars’s bitchiness wasn’t a direct result of a “male perspective” (as Naoko called it). The idea that female bffs bully each other and cat fight all the time is ludicrous. As a 32yo woman (and lifelong Moonie) with a tight circle of girlfriends, there isn’t a single one of us who would tolerate such toxicity from the other, even at 14yo. It just isn’t realistic, unless it’s a bad relationship. I’ll give the anime credit for getting one thing right - her bravery. In both the manga and the anime, Mars is fearless. She charges into battle and gives it her all. She doesn’t let any doubt get in her way. She does not hesitate or dwell on self-doubt. And that alone is reason enough to love her.

Now, let’s discuss Manga-Rei. Because Adult-Moonie-Me LOVES manga-Mars. She actually appears in Codename Sailor V outside the arcade. She says the atmosphere is “disquieting” and leaves. In the manga, she’s very quiet and reserved. There is no bickering or cat fighting between her and Usagi. She’s also probably the most objectively beautiful of the Inners. She’s suppose to be “slender”, with long black hair and brown eyes which are sometimes seen as purple. When Usagi first sees her on the bus, she thinks she’s soooo beautiful. And another time, when they’re at the beach/pool, guys keep buying Rei drinks but she’s not flirting or giving them any attention, bc she is not boy crazy. Sis is enjoying those drinks tho.

Her awakening in the manga is very similar to the anime with the exception that’s she sees a premonition of Usagi and Jadeite that makes her go find the bus. Like the other Senshi, she is drawn to Usagi.

In her manga profile, her dislikes are television, modern society (the anime has her immersed in pop culture, going so far as to make her write her own songs and dance at the school festival), canned asparagus and men. It’s implied that she doesn’t like men or care for them bc of her father. He never had time for her and she doesn’t have a good relationship with him. Plus in a short story, she has a guy she likes but he chooses to follow her father’s footsteps into politics. So she kisses him and is like, boy, bye. ✌🏽 She considers men emotionally weak, untrustworthy and is generally disinterested in them, even if they’re buying her drinks and fawning over her. Same, Sis.

She is described as beautiful and “reserved”, but “scary” when she’s angry. She so beautiful that when Mamoru’s underclassman, Asanuma, sees her, he thinks she would be the perfect girlfriend for Mamoru (who Asanuma thinks is perfect) and that she should be Mamoru’s ideal type. He’s really surprised that Usagi is so *ordinary*.

Rei has strong precognition and has an affinity to fire. Ironically, there is nothing in Shintoism about fire reading, so that must just be a shoutout to the Greek influence on the manga. I love her psychic abilities in both the anime and the manga. Random fun fact: Naoko worked at a Shinto temple for a while before or maybe during college.

Mars is one of the only Senshi, like Michiru, who can use an item as an attack in her civilian and Senshi form. Her “ofuda” (Shinto talismans) are powerful enough to disperse evil and make regular people faint (remember anime epi w/Unazuki’s mouth getting sealed and in the manga/crystal she accidentally “purifies” Usagi, causing her to faint). Mikos (shrine maidens) are known to use archery attacks, so civilian Rei was already proficient in archery before awakening as Mars. Also, just like Jupiter’s earrings stay on her when she transforms, Mars is always wearing a pendant and when she transforms, it attaches at the waist to her fuku.

Mars also, uniquely, has her own guardians: the Crows, Phobos and Deimos. In the anime, the crows never take human form as they do in the manga. In the Dead Moon arc, Jupiter and Mercury power up by speaking with their inner consciousness. But Mars powers up by speaking with the human forms of her crows. This is a great moment in the manga bc Phobos and Deimos basically tell Rei that’s it’s ok to not want or desire men and marriage. She is the asexual goddess everyone overlooks and I love this aspect to her personality. The Crows are the ones to give her the Mars Crystal which is her starseed. We also find out here that Mars pledged a vow of Chastity to Serenity in the SilMill. They don’t explain the reasons behind the vow, but considering Rei’s spirituality and serious conservatism, it’s understandable. Also, while Phobos and Deimos are named after the moons on Mars, in the Stars Arc it’s revealed that they’re from the Coronis and were acquainted with Sailor Lead Crow.

For the most part, Rei in the manga seems more boring than Rei in the 90s anime, but personally, I don’t think so. Reading the manga in middle school and seeing a female not *give*a*fuck* about marriage was awesome to me. She’s also kinder and she has far more respect for Usagi. She’s extremely popular at her school and has her own fan club. She carries herself with a certain dignity that reminds me of Michiru. She’s second in command after Venus. And let me end this by saying that Crystal gave Rei justice, and for that I am happy.

Happy Birthday, Mars! 🔥 🌙 ⭐️

P. S. Check out Allison Yarrow’s book “90’s Bitch: Media, Culture and the Failed Promise of Gender Equality” for more detailed analysis on how women in the 90s who wanted to have a home and a career got turned into the bitchy boss, bitchy girlfriend or bitchy best friend to subvert their quest for gender equality. I think Rei is the perfect example of this narrative. Especially when you consider men changed her nature in the anime from what her female creator intended for her. Also, check out the podcast on it https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/unladylike/id1333193523?i=1000432317654 (podcast name: Unladylike episode 45. how to free the 90s Bitch)

Thanks for reading all this you wonderful Moonies!!!

[dylansfm]

       〔 ZOEY DEUTCH, 22, CISFEMALE, ODIKINESIS 〕╰  _DYLAN O’SHEA _ just  came  over  half - blood  hill .  you  know ,  the  child  of  ARES  who  was  claimed  3 years ago ?  i've  heard  chiron  say  that  pronoun  is  COURAGEOUS & INDEPENDENT ,  but  if  you  ask  the  aphrodite  kids ,  they'd  say  they're  COMBATIVE & SPITEFUL .  i'd  say  they  remind  me  of drinking whiskey, broken glass, the glow of a flame, bruised knees, split lips & basking in the feeling of victory, especially  since  they're  AGAINST THE NEW CABINS.  (  ✎  tobi ,  20 ,  she/her ,  mst .  )

hello everyone ! i’m tobi, 20 years old, and this intro post is really late but here it is ! i haven’t rp’ed in forever so i’m probably going to be a bit rusty, but i’m excited. you can find some quick wanted connections at the bottom of this. i’ll reblog some wc gifsets and try to write up a proper post later. if you want to plot, like this post and i’ll message you, or you can get me on discord logan lerman's side bitch#7115 !

name:     dylan alexandra o’shea  

nicknames:    her mom calls her dyl pickle, call her that if you dare

birth date:    january 2nd   

gender:    cis female

pronouns:    she/her

ethnicity:    kinda obvious i think

nationality:    american

hometown:    memphis, tennessee 

demigod abilities:    odikinesis –– the ability to arouse feelings of anger, hatred and bloodlust in others

cabin number & godly parent: cabin five, ares

edie o’shea is your average southern belle. little rich girl, ex-beauty queen, ex-cheerleader, known around the neighbourhood for her beauty and being the definition of southern hospitality. but when she was 18, she went through her rebellious, punk, 90s grunge phase ( or at least, as grungy as you can get in the deep south ). and it was during this phase that she had her fateful encounter with ares. they met at a bar –– or was it a club ? concert ? she can’t even remember anymore –– and he introduced himself, didn’t even bother to hide his name. edie assumed it was a nickname or a joke. 

they had a brief, intense, torrid love affair for a few months before edie became pregnant. ares gave a quick explanation of his situation ( edie was so infuriated nothing he said even registered ) and he split, leaving edie with dylan as a goodbye gift. edie quickly went back home, got back into her parents’ good graces, and tried to forget ares and get her life back together for her little girl. 

dylan’s grandparents are similar to emily and richard gilmore from gilmore girls –– they’re snobby, controlling, and a bit too invested in their granddaughter’s raising. dylan loves them both, but her complete lack of care towards social status and reputation is a constant battle. 

dylan o’shea is very much the opposite of your average southern belle. seemed to have inherited both her mother and father’s wild ways, going against all of her mother’s attempts to tame her. she’s aggressive, coarse, and tactless. she’s attended and been expelled from damn near every school in the city, gotten into more fights than she can count, been arrested enough times that she knows quite a few officers by name. she’s been uncontrollable from day one, a hurricane that constantly leaves destruction in her wake.

her mother never intended to send dylan to camp half blood, she thought dylan was bound to get herself killed if she was left by herself. but dylan’s demigod ability, odikinesis, began to manifest when she turned 14. she had always had a penchant for getting into trouble, but it seemed like she was constantly being provoked into fights. her family never believed her when she said that she wasn’t doing anything, that people always came at her. they figured it was her nature, per the course as a child of the god of war.

the day things went to utter shit –– she doesn’t remember much of what happened now. it was over something stupid, a guy saying a stupid, shitty comment that shouldn’t have made her as angry as it did. next thing she remembers she’s face down on the ground, held down by 3 police officers and thrashing around like a wild animal. she’s told she beat him near to death ( or maybe –– ? she never asked, never really wanted to know ) and she lands in juvie. it was run down, under supervised and overcrowded, and her powers only grew stronger with time. a year of fighting ( both inmates and guards ), getting sent to isolation, and doing it over and over again finally broke her. abruptly, the fights stopped, and like a switch, instead of constant anger, she felt nothing at all.

her mother saw her state and knew both that something was wrong, and that she wasn’t the one who would be able to fix it. for the first time, she swallowed her pride and prayed to ares to guidance, help, anything. dylan was released soon after, something about early release for good behaviour ( ha ! ) and she immediately goes on the long drive to camp half blood. only when they get there does she learn that she was being haunted by a ker ( female spirits who personify violent death ), which was drawn to her ability and underlying power. she arrived at chb when she was 15, and has been there ever since.

some quick facts about dylan !

she has a thick southern accent and possibly the smoothest voice you’ve ever heard –– expect more than a few y’all’s here and there, though i’ll try not to be too obnoxious

she likes using nicknames –– lamb, pumpkin, june bug, the works –– just to be condescending

she’s quick to insult and even quicker to anger, but not necessarily unfriendly. she genuinely doesn’t mean any harm –– most of the time

she has a awful temper. as in, had-to-take-anger-management-classes awful. it genuinely takes a toll on her and she constantly struggles to keep her rage in check. she’s had enough years of learning that on a good day, she’s fine. on a bad day –– whew.

her inspirations incl: jessica jones ( jessica jones ), katarina stratford ( 10 things i hate about you ), reyna avila ramirez-arellano ( the heroes of olympus ), clarisse la rue ( percy jackson & the olympians )

despite how she comes across at first ( idiot jock ) she’s generally very intelligent. she especially likes history

she’s very flighty, her mind never stays on one thing and she’s constantly doing, forgetting about that, starting that, dropping that and –– you get the point. talking to her can be a bit daunting because she’s constantly changing the subject on you

the only time she’s really focused is when she mid-battle, on a quest, or thinking about strategy ( she’s a bit of a stereotype, she already knows )

from her time in juvie she’s learned quite a few –– skills. how to pick a lock and how to sneak contraband being the most relevant ( less relevant: how to turn a battery into a lighter & make booze using just bread, sugar, and fruit juice ). she’s managed to get some contacts whenever she’s permitted to leave camp for a quest, so she always has a decent supply ( weed only, she used to run with bad crowds, seen the damage the other stuff can do )

after her experience with the ker, she’s has a genuinely, almost debilitating fear of spirits and hauntings specifically. it’s a trait about herself that pisses her off to no end, and she’d die before letting anyone find out about it. 

& now for the ·。ﾟ𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 ! as i said above, i’ll write a proper post when i’m a little less tired

platonic

rivals –– friend version ! dylan is quite possibly the most competitive person on earth, it’s in her genetics. she thinks of everything as a competition and she always has to win. however, a victory is only sweet when it’s against a true adversary. she spends a lot of time with this person and she’s convinced herself that it’s so that she can eventually prove she’s their superior, but she actually just likes being around them.

           ( bonus points –– sparring partners no rules sorta deal, out in the woods, scratches                from twigs, bloodied rocks, anything to let some of her aggression out )

opposites attract –– this person is different from her in almost every way ( grumpy, combative, wild vs friendly, sweet, caring, etc ) and by all accounts should provoke her ire and contempt. yet somehow, she instead genuinely care about this person and their wellbeing ( and it makes her sick to her stomach ).

romantic

crush –– oh it’s just so pathetic. dylan prides herself on being untouchable, with a dark black hole where her heart should be. however, this person is a very unwanted reminder that she is, in fact, a real person with emotions and feels and ugh. she’s carried a torch for this person from the day she met them, and she’s been unable to rid herself of these feelings despite her best attempts. this person definitely doesn’t know ( she tries to convince herself of this ) and she plans to ignore the nervousness, unconscious smiles and, ugh, butterflies until the day she –– dies, i guess.

antagonistic

rivals –– enemy version ! dylan is probably the most competitive person on earth, which also makes her one of the sorest losers you’ll ever meet. she hates losing, and she finds it difficult to keep that sentiment to herself. for whatever reason dylan doesn’t respect this person, and therefore can’t handle losing to them as graciously as she might otherwise. despite her temper she’s usually not the type to hold a grudge ( more the fight and forgive type ) but her hatred of this person is a giant mental block.

[kathyprior4200]

Hidden Hazbin Sins

NOT FOR KIDS! NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED.

For many of the residents in Hell, it was an average day of chaos, murder, sex, drugs, and drama. Poverty-stricken demons smuggled food from dumpsters while others snuck into darkened stores. More disturbingly, other demons even resorted to cannibalism on unlucky citizens who had been killed in gang fights, run over, or stabbed to death by Exterminator harpoons.

The Happy (Hazbin) Hotel seemed to be running fairly smoothly with the addition of the clean-freak cyclops demon Niffty and even the indifferent gambling alcoholic Husk. Charlie, the blond-haired demon princess, stood outside wearing a red bellhop uniform complete with gold buttons, gold threads hanging around the brim of her small red hat and a ruby apple necklace around her neck. Her face was white, eyes yellow, and red blushes were off to the sides of her face. She remembered a week ago when the hotel first opened, cutting a tied up red piece of ribbon with a large pair of scissors, the crowd clapping half-heartedly. Currently, she was holding the door for a line of demons waiting to get in.

“Welcome to the Happy Hotel!” said the princess cheerfully. Razzle and Dazzle were busy lifting up luggage and placing them on a rolling cart to go up into the elevator. Though many of the demons rolled their eyes and snarled at Charlie, she kept up her positive demeanor.

Inside, a banner hung over a front desk with several colorful balloons and streamers off to the sides.

“No more sin, share a big grin!” Charlie recited her motto. “Vaggie will check you in and get you situated at the front desk.”

She mentioned to her moth demon friend, who saw her and blushed with a small smile, blowing her a quick kiss. Vaggie turned to a light blue dragon in the front.

“I have a reservation for a room with a balcony,” the dragon said, his wings folded. He showed her his cell phone in his claw which showed the order he had made online.

Vaggie looked it over and nodded. “Two nights here, room 666, with a cost of…”

Charlie looked over at Vaggie. “They don’t have to pay any souls. This place is free for the first one hundred customers!”

“What?!” Vaggie exclaimed in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because I just came up with it today,” she explained. “If we are to encourage demons to come here to get better, why not make it free for them?”

“Your Dad won’t be happy about that.”

“I know. But it’s my hotel, and I might as well leave a friendly impression.”

“Move it, bitch,” scoffed a green snake-like demon with a pink dress and dark green hair who shoved Charlie aside with her hand. Charlie’s eyes glowed red for a second, but she took a deep breath. Vaggie pointed her harpoon weapon at the snake lady and glared. Heeding her warning, the snake huffed, flipped back her straggly green hair and moved on to her room.

Charlie shrugged, as she continued to hold the door. “It’s a start, right?”

Vaggie sighed and continued with her next customer, a werewolf. “Room 66 is currently occupied. 63 is available if you’d like to stay on that floor.”

Dazzle flew into the room, lifted down one of many old fashioned blood-stained key and placed it on the desk.

Vaggie handed the key to the brown furry demon. “The bar is over down the hall to your left. Charlie’s Fun and Games event will start at 7:00pm in the dance room. Ring your room bell and Niffty will fetch you breakfast in the morning. If you have any questions, just ask me or Charlie.”

“I have a question,” said a familiar sounding voice as the werewolf left for his room. The white spider demon Angel Dust strutted up to the desk, with his usual white and pink striped outfit on and pink gloves on four of his hands.

“One second,” Vaggie said. She turned to him. “What, Angel?” Vaggie deadpanned.

“Do you know where the drug vending machine is here? I want some Angel Dust and I’m getting tired of those purple popsies to be honest.”

“What’s in a name!” someone commented from in the line.

Vaggie crossed her arms. “No drugs are allowed here. It’s problematic enough that alcohol is being served here. We don’t need any more of your ideas. I’m busy here!”

Angel continued, “What we also need is a stage with new poles for dancing on. Italian electro music, and a secret strip club in the basement! Man, that’d be the shit!”

A black dinosaur-like demon growled at Angel. “Go fuck yourself, slut.”

Angel just grinned widely. “Only if you watch me, hot stuff.”

“Get out!” Vaggie bellowed, pointing toward the door.

“Oh well,” Angel shrugged. “Time to make some moves on Husk. It’s so easy to warm up to him when he’s drunk…”

Angel happily scurried away while Vaggie face-palmed. “Someone kill me a second time,” she muttered out loud.

“Can I do it?” asked the snake demon, who peered out of her room.

“No!” Charlie and Vaggie yelled at the same time, startling the snake who ducked back into her room. Charlie and Vaggie laughed from across the room. Almost losing hold of the door, Charlie grabbed onto the handle again, smiling back at the visitors.

 Later on that evening, the bar was packed full of demons scattered around in every direction. A group of dragons were sitting together, enjoying flaming spirits of liquor that Husk had brought to them. A family of red imps were playing cards over by a booth. Only a group of doll demons seemed to enjoy the rainbow decorated karaoke section that Charlie had set up. They sang at the top of their lungs and danced in a circle.

“See? They’re getting it!” Charlie smiled, sitting next to Vaggie. Vaggie let out a small smile. “Well, I’m impressed, Charlie. Maybe your idea will be successful in the long run.”

Charlie brushed Vaggie’s long white hair from her light gray face, careful not to touch the pink X over her friend’s eye. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Angel Dust giggled under his breath nearby and began to do a slutty dance on a table.

“Anyone have a lampshade I could use?”

A random one hit him in the face. “Thanks, dick!” he called putting it over his head.

“Wow, he remembered my name,” smiled a blushing Dick, an orange-faced demon with an elongated forehead shaped like…

“Will you cut that out?” Husk hissed as he glanced at Angel shaking his butt as the demons laughed and jeered.

“You like that?” he asked, hearing Husk’s voice. “I figured you would, deep down.”

“Son of a crackhead,” Husk muttered.

“Heard that, cat in the hat! Sadly, it’s true, though.”

The two girlfriends relaxed as the demons chatted (and fought) among themselves. Husk drank more booze behind the counter in several gulps. Niffty scurried to dust off cobwebs, mop the floors, and carry any remaining luggage to the room or outside.

Charlie stared at the nearby stage, the microphone vacant.

“Say…has anyone seen Alastor?”

“Nope, not me,” replied Angel, still dancing with the lampshade on his head. “Then again, I can’t see much of anything.”

“Take that damn thing off!” said Vaggie. “It’s unprofessional!”

“Sorry, tots, can’t hear you over the sound of how sexy I am!” he replied.

“Not me,” Vaggie said.

“Nor me,” said Husk. “Thank Lucifer. That radio punk was getting on my last nerves. Glad I don’t have to hear any more dad jokes tonight.”

“But he always comes on Fridays and the weekend,” Charlie says. “And it’s a new moon on Earth, I think. He always comes up with new tricks to share with us during that time.”

“When’d you get into that stuff?” Husk asked.

“Human studies,” Charlie replied. “Oh what it could mean to be a human for the first time…”

“It’s a shithole if you ask me,” Husk replied. “Lost chances, war, depression, the whole nine yards.”

“Or life can be good,” said Vaggie, “Until, you get…assaulted by a bunch of masculine pigs.”

An old pig demon oinked at her in anger and slurped up a mud smoothie.

“Heh, no offence?”

“It’s alright, Vaggie,” said Charlie. “Perhaps when we go to Heaven, we’ll learn more about all kinds of people.”

“I can’t hear you,” Vaggie mentioned.

Charlie snapped her fingers and the noise in the bar dulled own to a fading hum. The spell would last for several minutes. For now, it was just Vaggie and Charlie talking in the crowded room, no one else noticing.

“You’re the daughter of the devil and a seducing being,” Vaggie pointed out. “You may not ever get redeemed.”

“But how do we know?” Charlie asked. “Think about it. My dad got sent down from Heaven for going to the dark side. There has to be a way for demons to rise up from Hell! There’s like two sides of a large coin.”

“You’re forgetting Earth and tons of other places,” Vaggie said. “Even if that would be the case, how good would we have to be to get sent to Heaven or even back to Earth?”

“Perhaps by showing more…humanity.” Charlie said, wistfully.

“Ugh, not this again.” Vaggie leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “Look. I’m willing to be open minded about the possibility of Heaven existing. It’s something I learned about in my life, after all. But to think these demons have some connection to humans…”

Charlie cut her off, lowing her hands sideways slightly in a downward motion to make her point. “They not only used to be souls…they are still souls! Deep down, as long as they’re somewhat alive, they retain some amount of their human characteristics from their past lives!”

“Not fuckin’ buying it.”

“Vaggie, it only makes sense. I’ve seen it for myself when my family showed me the Purge. They briefly showed their human forms before they were killed. This proves that they aren’t true monsters. They need help. They need love, just like everyone else. Dad and Mom don’t want to believe it, but…I have a feeling they also know it to be true.”

Charlie continued, changing the topic into something more light-hearted. “Perhaps Heaven has animal-like bipedal creatures as well, but nicer and fluffier! Maybe with angel wings. Humans and animals are everywhere, within many angels and demons!”

Vaggie held on firmly to Charlie’s shoulders, and stared her straight in the eye, raising her voice slightly more toward a normal tone. “Charlie, listen to me. I, too, have…seen things. Earth, Heaven, Hell…they’re all different. From what I heard, angels belong in Heaven and demons belong in Hell. The evil humans come down here, already dead. Living humans belong on Earth. That’s just the way it works.”

Something in Vaggie’s eyes told Charlie that her friend wasn’t entirely convinced of her own spoken words.

“Swear on your afterlife…for your own safety and sanity, you will not tell anyone else about this.”

Charlie looked around, eyes wide. “Do you think…some demons will want to take advantage of me and…my position as heir?”

“Finally out of your childhood comfort zone,” Vaggie mentioned with a solemn nod. “Please, Charlie. I will do whatever I can to help you redeem these sinners. But, promise me, you will be smart and always watch your back. You can’t trust everyone.” Vaggie stared at her scarred chest and put a hand up to her eye. “I learned that lesson the hard way.”

Charlie’s soundproof spell had ended, and the noise of the bar came back in full force.

“Ya girls done?” Angel asked, white hair frazzled from dancing and wearing the lampshade.

“Yep,” said Charlie. “Anything you need?”

“Other than a whiff of coke and a thrill of a fight, I’m good.” He picked up a cherry from a drink and sucked on it.

“Time to go see Cherri Bomb. She’s making actual cherry bombs for our next turf attack! Catch you guys later!” He winked and swaggered out of the room.

“Why did you bring him here, again?” Vaggie asked with a sigh.

Charlie answered. “He was clean for two weeks, and now…well, I’m going to give him another chance. It’s the only thing to do.”

“Whatever you say,” Vaggie answered. She held on gently to Charlie’s hand and the princess squeezed back affectionately.

 “But seriously, though…where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, more to herself, looking back at the stage. “He was a big help to starting the hotel and it was fun dancing with him.”

“I swear I’ll gut him if he ever makes a move on you again,” Vaggie seethed. “Let’s forget about that cocky bastard and enjoy ourselves.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Charlie smiled. “But I have faith that he’ll change for the better. You’ll see.”

  The red neon Pentagram symbol in the sky was the only thing that lit up the time that was considered night time. Though the sky was constantly red, the demons still kept track of time in their afterlives, despite the fact that such a concept may not exist outside of Earth. The one thing that died harder than any sinner was old human habits.

Two small imp-like demons by the names of Tee and Vee wondered around in the shadows, Tee holding a small black cell phone. Tee was short, fat and dark purple in color, while Vee was thin and red. Both had horns, clawed feet and hands as well as small pointed tails. Both were wearing black suits with blue Wi-Fi logos on them. They were mini mercenaries and spies hired by none other than Vox, the TV demon. On this night, they were sent on another one of their missions.

They spoke in New York accents or perhaps Australian accents. It was hard to tell because they talked so fast.

“Another night, another dollar,” Tee said. He reached for a small arrow and threw it at an unsuspecting ogre. The beast roared as the arrow exploded against his foot. The ogre fell to the ground and Tee jumped up toward his face. In one swift motion, mid jump, he got out a spear from his utility belt and stabbed it right though the ogre’s large yellow right eye. Vee stepped in to finish the job, finally ending the monster’s agonized yells.

The duo had their gruesome eye kabab snack on a spear as they walked along.

“Need at least 66 kills tonight,” said Tee. “That should be doable.”

“But remember what Vox really wants,” Vee reminded him. “A chance to overthrow his rival overlords. Just think, we’ll be internet stars after we help Vox conjure Hell!”

Tee elbowed him sharply. “He will get all the credit, jackass, not us. We’re just doing this ‘cause we have no choice.”

“Oh, don’t be so glum, bum,” Vee said. “Though yours is quite big.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Anyway, we’ll still be recognized in some form. Perhaps he’ll be especially pleased with us and beckon us over to his bedroom…”

Tee shook his head, clenching his purple fists. “All Vox does is take selfies with Velvet and talk dirty to Valentino on the phone. He gets the good life, while we’re out here doing his dirty work.”

“Makes it easier on him,” Vee said. “He’s busy making plans, after all. You know about the New World Order? Project Mech Tech? Several secret plans of his involving keeping everyone glued to their screens. Brainwashing, propaganda, convincing ads. It’s already just as powerful as it is in the human world. ‘Xept down here, Vox can bend others to his will.”

“Like…us?”

“Those who are either sheep or foolhardy enough to stand up to him.”

“But they’re demons, not sheep.”

“Tee, you retarded, ass!” He punched his college in the face and the two demons rolled down the street in a snowball spiraling brawl.

They yelled and grabbed onto each other’s tails, biting and screeching insults.

“Tee, pee!”

“Bum, scum!”

“Gas ass!”

“Slut, mutt!”

Nearby, a smoking female hellhound barked in disapproval.

“Butt…what?”

Vee stopped and stared straight ahead.

“Coward, what’s your pro…” Tee began, before noticing the direction the orange demon was looking toward.

“…blem?”

They stood up and saw a long black alleyway in front of them. The ground was littered with broken glass, cigarette butts, and the occasional skull here and there. Graffiti was spray-painted on the brick walls in various colors of red, blue, yellow, and green. They were mostly expletive words, nude women, and crying demon stick figures surrounded by flames. Further up above, someone had spray painted a rainbow with sun rays coming out from it. A foul scent of garbage and rotten flesh permeated the space.

Vee peered into the darkness and heard the faint sound of footsteps and humming. A distinct feel of…electricity? ... hiding among the shadows.

 Tee shuddered, holding up his clawed hands. “No, no, no, no, I ain’t goin’ in there.”  

“I sense a powerful presence,” Vee stated. “If we don’t take a risk, who will? Besides, if we don’t show up with some special report this time, Vox will have our heads.”

“He…wouldn’t…right?”

Vee grabbed onto Tee’s plump arm. “Just come on!”

“Okay…whoa, slow down,” he called as he was dragged along.

They slowed their pace as they reached the cracked dead end. The path turned off to the left, ending in another wider dead end further away. The walls were on either side of both paths with no windows or doors. Well…save for an old wooden door that was behind a pair of old curtains made from circus tent flaps.

A silhouette of a demon stood in front of the door, drawing a pentagram symbol in the air. A little golden keyhole appeared to the right and a matching old-fashioned key was pulled out from a pocket. The key went in and the door opened with a slow creek.

“Let’s go,” Vee whispered. They followed the figure not too far behind from the door.

They continued walking, occasionally glancing up at the red sky above them. The eerie silence was soon replaced with humming from the demon in front of them. It sounded distinctly male and appeared to be a jolly tune. Vee couldn’t quite name the song the man was singing, but it made him feel strangely at ease. It reminded him of those songs he heard at the circus or at musicals he attended with his parents. Not that it mattered now, since his parents were dead due to the so called “angels.” Tee on the other hand, was quivering, his legs itching to race right out of there.

“Come on, man,” Tee whispered. “Let’s kill this demon and leave.”

Vee let out a silent gasp and tapped Tee on the shoulder. “Look.”

They both stopped as the figure’s footsteps ceased further ahead.

For a moment, all was dark and quiet.

A snap of fingers was heard and five white candles were lit up at the same time. They were at the end of the alleyway, this time surrounded by circular concrete walls. The man was standing in the center of a crimson pentagram surrounded by a red circle that was drawn on the ground, taking up most of the space. The white candles glowed with yellow light at the ends of the five points.

“Whoa, is that who I think it is?” whispered Tee, so low that he could barely be heard. He held up his phone and started to record.

 The figure was revealed in the candlelight: a slender man wearing a tattered pinstriped red dress coat, trailing along slightly behind him. Dark shoes with red deer hoof-prints on the bottom soles. Red and black fur upon his head with large furry deer-like ears with black tips. Small dark antlers sticking out from between his ears. Thin neck and slander arms and legs. A vintage microphone staff stood in his right hand.

“Yes,” Vee said in a hushed tone. “The Radio Demon.”

Alastor walked over to a large deer skull stained with blood, antlers still intact. The trophy was attached to the wall via an old wooden plaque. He walked over and slowly knocked on the bone forehead seven times. It was a “shave and a haircut” sounding knock.

The Radio Demon stepped back as the skull’s slanted eyes glowed red. A scroll dropped out from its mouth but with a wave of his hand, it vanished. A spiral symbol in the center of the pentagram lit up: a universal symbol for a portal. The demon hummed some more.

With Tee still recording, Vee excitedly reached for his phone. He had to alert Vox. At last, the duo would be getting their big break…and a hefty sum of souls for their night’s work.

He began to rapidly text, his phone set to silent, the brightness of the screen turned as low as possible:

Vee: “Lord Vox, it’s V, T of 19:29. Radio Demon’s hideout found. Located at west end of…”

“A-CHOO!”

Tee sneezed out loud into his arm, phone in his other hand. The Radio Demon’s ears twitched at the noise. The humming stopped. The candles went out.

Tee and Vee rammed their backs against the nearest wall, not daring to move or even breathe. They heard the shuffling of feet, and the subtle sound of the microphone staff moving slightly side to side.

For an entire minute, nobody made a sound. Vee turned to Tee and both of them moved their eyes toward the other direction. Vee held up three fingers then mimicked tiptoeing side-ways. Getting the message, Tee followed Vee, shuffling three quiet steps to the right. After ten seconds, they moved again. Tee still recorded with a shaky hand in the dark, while Vee was careful not to drop his phone.

Vee pointed toward the exit and Tee nodded. Vee began to tip-toe from the wall, inch by inch making his way toward the open wooden door.

A slow creaking sound made then briefly freeze. For some reason, the door wasn’t moving.

A chilling sensation crept to the backs of the demon’s necks. Both of them turned back to look through the darkness.

 But the only lights they saw in the distance were the glowing red radio dials in the Radio Demon’s two eyes. The creaking sound was, in fact, the demon’s head slowly turning backward to stare right at the terrified faces of Tee and Vee.

SLAM!

The wooden door whammed shut, causing Tee and Vee to jump and yelp.

The world turned into a psychedelic mess of vibrant colors. Reds, blues, and greens morphed together in the sky and along the walls. Shadows of deer heads dripping blood danced along a red-lit wall like shadow puppets.

“Open the door!” Vee cried, punching against the wood, which was now colored a strange yellow.

“There’s no handle!” Tee replied, kicking at it in vain.

“Ack! I’m blue!” said Vee, staring at his light blue body in the strange light.

“I think you’re seeing red!” Tee replied, failing to notice his fat crimson body.

Vee grabbed daggers and bomb arrows and threw them rapidly in front of him. The Radio Demon dodged them all and merged into the shadowy ground.

“He’s…gone?” Tee asked, looking through his phone camera.

Vee held on tight his phone and glanced back at the texts, finger hovering over the “send” button.

The red dial-eyes emerged right in front of their faces, rows of sharp yellow teeth appearing below. Though the sudden loud radio static that filled their ears, Tee and Vee screamed. A voodoo spirit shaped like a black lizard with white eyes snatched the phone from Vee’s hand, dropping it by Alastor’s left foot before scurrying off. He brought down his pointed shoe and crushed the device to pieces, sparks flying, screen cracked. The remainder of the pieces burst into flames and vanished.

Before Vee could blink, two black tentacles sprouted rapidly from holes in the ground and latched themselves onto the demon’s arms, pinning them back. He struggled to escape, but they were wrapped too tightly.

Tee was running as fast as his little legs could carry him, the camera phone shaking with every step. He put the phone in his pocket, ran up to the wall, jumped, and grabbed onto a small branch sticking out from a hole in the worn down concrete. Knowing the branch could break at any moment, he frantically searched around for another handhold.

A-ha!

Up off slightly to the right, was a crack large enough for him to dig his claws into. Tee took a deep breath, preparing himself. If he could push off with his legs, swing toward the crack, get ready to let go…

The branch snapped off as he was forcibly brought down with a hard tug coming from near his legs. He phone fell out of his pocket, landing sideways on the ground. The camera showed two more black tentacles wrapping around Tee’s stubby legs, dragging him toward Alastor as he screamed. Even digging into the ground with his claws did no good.

Another tentacle gently lifted up the phone and brought it back as well.

Alastor cocked his head to the side, his mouth in an ever-present smile. Vee was lifted up to Alastor’s level and held close to the wall.

Vee laughed nervously. “Oh, hey, Alastor. Heh heh. Great seeing you this f-fine night. I-I wasn’t gonna do anything, I swear.”

The reply was a dark chuckle mixed with static.

Vee felt Alastor’s four-fingered hands grip his head.

“I…I won’t say anything! Way too young to die again. Please…”

Vee’s head crashed against the wall with a loud thud. He let out a high pitched scream.

“Owww! No! Tee, get outta…AUUUGH!”

Vee gagged as his skull cracked against the concrete. Bile filled the demon’s mouth and dark red stained the wall. He gasped for air, black spots across his vision. After his head was slammed against the wall a third time, Vee’s eyes rolled back and his thin body limped downward, relaxed.  Shards of skull and bits of brain spilled to the ground. Alastor reached down toward the utility belt, and pulled out a dagger. He severed the demon’s head, clean off. The lifeless head fell to the ground, rolling until stopping near a restrained Tee.

Tee reeled back as far as he could, yelling through a tendril that was covering his mouth. Alastor smiled down at him, red dials moving, antlers expanding from his head. He held out his palm and flames appeared along with faint symbols hovering around them.

For several minutes, all Tee knew was a searing hot pain consuming his body, the smell of smoke, and the reeking smell of burning flesh around them. He inhaled the smoke and heard the radio static buzzing in his ears. All Tee could do was close his eyes and wait out the agony. Hoping that the heat and noise would soon…

Fade away…

Slipping into…black…

…constant…

…peace.

 With that, the Radio Demon tossed the phone into the flames, the camera and screen revealing his demonic face before the device exploded into electric sparks.

 The colors returned to normal and the flames went out. The only sound was the sound of static, slowly fading back into the vintage microphone. His eyes returned to their normal full red color and his antlers shrunk until they were small sticks on his head once again.

   He snapped his fingers and the white candles lit up again. The skull’s eyes glowed red.

Clearing his throat, Alastor spoke the password in the Creole language:

“Ou pa janm konplètman abiye

San yon souri!”

(You’re never fully dressed without a smile)

  The eyes glowed green and the ground below him vanished. Flames rose from the circle surrounding the pentagram. The inner circle was now a portal to a “basement” of Hell.

Several shadowy spirits rushed out of the hole, ecstatic to be free and to roam wild. Though the ground had disappeared below him, he stood perfectly still where he was.

More tendrils rose from the ground and wove together to form stairs starting at the top near Alastor’s feet. He walked merrily down as the portal slowly closed.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way forward.

“My cozy lair, how much I’ve missed you.”

The lair was a sort of mashup between a haunted house and a middle class home from the early 1920’s.

Black walls stood on either side, blending in so well, it looked like the black ether outside. Red metal columns lined the sides and supporting the high black ceiling above. The black floor stopped at an area and wooden floorboards filled the rest of the ground. It gave the appearance of a floor torn up by an earthquake on the edge.

The first room was the living room. An elegant fireplace contained red flames that were constantly burning. A black leather couch faced a red wall that was decorated with various deer head trophies of many sizes. Some were stuffed versions of real brown deer. Others were the rotten partially furry heads of deer monsters from Hell. A fair amount were deer skulls with arching antlers. A resting rifle was displayed on the top of the fireplace, the same one he used as a human long ago. A red rug lay below the couch and took up much of the living room. The walls had borders with antler designs all in a row.

 Attached to the living room was the kitchen. The wood floor met black and white checkered tile, a green line separating the different kinds. There was a high wooden countertop with a couple of bar stools facing the living room. Several appliances included an old fashioned stove, wooden cabinets, a metal sink and a mustard yellow fridge with an icebox.

Alastor opened the fridge door and gasped out loud.

“Oh my Satan!”

Among the eggs, food, and drinks was a severed purple demon head, with one eye missing.

He reached in with his hand…and pulled out an empty cartoon.

“Curses, I’m out of milk!” he exclaimed. “How am I supposed to have cereal tomorrow?”

He shut the door and sighed. “Oh well. I can always have a snack, instead.”

 There were fans in every room (no air conditioning in Hell). To the left of the kitchen, a darkened path led to the bathroom and two bedrooms. There was also an extra room where Alastor kept all his radio equipment ready: a small microphone, headphones, a control panel of buttons, and even a sign that would lit up and read “on the air” in bold letters.

The bathroom consisted of a toilet, and a vanity with a mirror and a sink with two separate faucets for hot and cold water. Taking up much of the space was a black clawed bathtub in the shape of a cauldron. Alastor turned one of the knobs and a stream of dark red blood jetted out of the large faucet. He turned another knob and streams of red liquid sprayed out from the dish-sized shower head overhead. He tightened the knobs and the blood ceased flowing.

“Good, it still works,” Alastor said, relieved.

He made his way past the guest bedroom to his own room.

A twin-size bed had red satin sheets and a quilt made of soft deer fur neatly folded on the top of the bed toward the edge. The two pillows were neatly fluffed up and propped against the wooden headboard.

Closer to the doorway stood an old fashioned small screen TV with two large antennae jutting out from the top. It was light tan in color, complete with knobs on the front and to the sides. When he pushed the power button on the remote, a black and white show slowly appeared on screen. Unlike many old TV’s and remotes, Alastor had upgraded his with magic, allowing him to go to multiple channels. He watched some picture shows for a while on his bed, then turned the TV off.

He peered out a window, watching the outside world…or lack thereof.

This was a void world, a dimension where the Loas and shadow spirits resided and where the black tentacles originated…from mythical monsters in dark pits. Alastor’s lair hovered in place among the blackness. The demon grinned as he spotted rogue demons being chased, and sometimes mauled on by voodoo shadow creatures. A wrecked blaster from Sir Pentious’ blimp floated in the space. Here was were all the items and victims went when Alastor pulled them into the parallel place. Sometimes Alastor would send unlucky individuals here for entertainment and substance for the Loas. In return, they allowed him easy control of his powers. (Sure he was powerful enough already on his own, but even he knew that dark magic was dangerous for everyone.)

 Alastor stepped down and opened his closet doors, revealing an array of suits, pants and shoes, mostly in dark reds and blacks.

 But nestled behind the line of clothing was something extra peculiar.

 In a large rosewood cabinet was a collection of hand-crafted Voodoo dolls.

 Large ones made of cloth and straw with round button eyes and stitched mouths. Miniature ones made of wood. Several of them had pins with rounded ends stuck in various places.

 But the ones on the widest middle shelf were the most noticeable. They were small dolls made in the likeness of Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk, and even an Alastor one. All the heads seemed to be bigger than the bodies.

How ironic that hands who had performed countless killings, were also so gentle and precise when it came to voodoo doll making.

“I’ll start with mine, as usual,” he said. He picked up the figure representing himself, complete with tuffs of his own red hair on its head, red clothing made of cloth over the body and red buttons for the eyes. The arms and legs were black stitched material, no designs on them. Branded on the back of the doll was a voodoo symbol of protection, ensuring that no one else could use the doll against him.

“At least I can always count on myself.”

Grinning, he put the doll back onto the miniature stage. He examined the Husk one sitting by the crafted bar.

“You really are a grumpy cat,” Alastor mentioned. “But, I’ll admit, you were still fun to make.”

The doll had a white face with black fluffy ends, red eyebrows, black buttons for eyes and a red bowtie. He had a slight frown on his face. The ears were made of cotton balls and a black hat sat on his head. Red wings had been sewn onto the back.

“Don’t get into too much trouble. I want you to be the puurfect person for that Hazbin Hotel.” He laughed and paced him back at the cardboard bar.

“Cute little darling Niffty,” he continued, examining the miniature doll with bright magenta hair and an attached fake yellow eyeball. The white shirt and pink skirt were there as well (though Alastor had left out the poodle design on the skirt).

“Keep being handy and we’ll get along dandy,” he said in a sing song voice before putting her back beside the cardboard chimney.

 “Oh Angel Dust,” he said with a roll of his eyes. He picked up the white doll, which had a small version of the white and pink outfit that Angel wore. He had a black bowtie, a head a little bit too football shaped, stitched smiling mouth and blue eye buttons.

“You get on my nerves, even in the process of making you,” he said. “I can’t even tell what those pink dots under your eyes are for. And your extra arms…they get all tangled everywhere. Well, at least you’re entertaining much of the time. You’ll have your purpose…and not of any sexual kind, good sir.”

He placed the Angel Dust doll on a web made of black string.

“Hello, naggy Vaggie,” Alastor commented as he observed the gray doll with long white string hair and a pink bow on the top. The white tank-top with the leggings were fastened onto the doll. One button was yellow while the other spot was painted with a pink x.

“Charlie’s best friend, yet different as night and day. No one likes a pessimist around, even in Hell. You got used to Hell, you can get used to anything. Even if it’s something unexpected in the future, perhaps?”

He placed her in her spot by a small paper lantern.

“Your pride is conssstricting isn’t it, Sir Pentious?”

He glanced up at a Sir Pentious doll wrapped up in black string upside down.

“You killjoys will fall again in the trench,” Alastor joked as he looked at a Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench doll stuffed into a hole in the wood.

“Cherri, you’re the bomb,” added Alastor to a doll with strawberry pink string hair and drawings of cherries on her clothes and fake eye. “Just try to control any explosive tempers you may have.”

 Finally, up on another shelf, he came to his favorite group of people: Charlie, Rosie, Mimzy, and of course, his dear mother. (Made with deer characteristics like his). The Charlie doll had blond strings for hair, and her face was painted white with the red blushes. From the black bowtie to the white shirt, leggings and shoes, this figure was almost like the real thing. Another Alastor figure was placed in the middle of the three women. Off to the side, a black deer figure representing his father had pins sticking through his chest, head, and crotch.

“Charlie, my charming demon belle, how will you fare in running your hotel?”

Charlie was placed in front of his figure.

“Darling Mimzy, lover of jazz, who are you behind the glamor and pizazz?”

The white-haired, pink-eyed Mimzy figure was to his left.

“A rose by any name is still a rose. We shall see how our collaboration goes.”

The tall Rosie figure with black eyes, and a pink hat and dress was off to the right.

And right behind the Alastor figure was the doll that resembled his mother.

Version one resembled her human form: light brown skin, thick hair, wearing a beautiful dress and holding a bowl of jambalaya in her hands. The second version was her with Alastor’s grayish skin, red hair, red eyes, and antlers, wearing a black dress with skulls and symbols embroidered on it.

“Ma mere…” (my mom)…

“Tu me manques beaucoup.” (I miss you very much.)

His mother’s words came back to him: “Al, my darling, always remember to smile. Keep your head up, leave any doubts and weakness behind.”

Still wearing his grin, he wiped away a stray tear of sadness.

“You’re right mom. I can’t feel insecure now. You sinned in your life…just so you could see me again…still can’t believe it. I won’t let you done and I won’t let myself down…”

He opened up a final section of the cabinet, this one revealing the dolls dressed like overlords. Vox with a pin through his TV head, Valentino with two pins through his straw chest, Velvet restrained in velvet cloth. Most noticeable of all was a cardboard throne standing up straight, but with a visible tear down the center. Lucifer and Lilith wearing white, sitting on the ground covered in necklace chains. A paper apple staff with the apple part detached and the long black part torn in half.

Alastor grinned at a third doll of him positioned on a throne made of antlers and bone.

“…Especially when I have grand plans set in motion. Hahahahahaha!”

[carriagelamp]

Since it’s 🍁 Canada Day 🍁 I figured I’d do the same thing I did for Pride Month and post a round up of Canadian books. Canadian literature has a tendency to be overlooked, but there’s some amazing gems out there!

That being said, this is definitely not a definitive list. There’s lot of lists out there that probably better, more relevant books. This is just a personal list as a Canadian person of Canadian lit I’ve read that stood out to me for whatever reason. I definitely encourage you though to look into some of the new Canadian novels being written write now, especially all the awesome own voice stories being written by First Nations authors across the country!

I’ve read a fair few Canadian novels over the years, so I’m going to break them up into one post of highlights each day for the remainder of the week: one for Children’s Novels / Chapter Books one for YA / Adult Novels, one for Graphic Novels and one for Picture Books.

Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery

This is like… The Canadian Novel ™ isn’t it? I imagine that even if you’ve never heard of any other Canadian novel, you’ve probably heard of Anne of Green Gables, if for no other reason than it’s been adapted a million times over. If you’ve never bothered to read the original though, I highly recommend it. Since it was written in 1908 the language is definitely old-fashioned, but that somehow makes it engaging enough to keep an adult reader hooked, while not being too difficult for a child reader who’s moved on to full length novels. It also, of course, makes a fantastic read aloud – I’ve reread this book easily a dozen times over the years since first having it read aloud to me by my mom, during which we both bawled our eyes out together.

If you somehow haven’t heard of Anne, it’s about Anne Shirley, a wildly imaginative (and just wild) orphan girl who is adopted by the Cuthberts and brought to live with them on their Prince Edward Island farm, Green Gables. The Cuthberts had originally intended to adopt a boy who could help with the farm work, but when Matthew Cuthbert finds a girl waiting for him at the train station he can’t bring himself to turn her away. And so begins the hijinks and misadventures of Anne as she grows from child to young adult.

Le Champ Maudit by François Gravel

I’ve always loved the genre of child-horror and this book absolutely delivers. The creature, vieux Nick, and the way it exists in space is delightfully chilling even as an adult. The story is about Oliver, who has often been warned by his uncle not to go into the cornfields – it makes sense after all, the cornfields are vast and uniform, it would be easy to get lost in them. Oliver has no reason to assume there’s something more sinister lurking in them, or that it could be tied to the other people who have gone missing over the years. That is, not until he makes the mistake of chasing a rabbit into the stalks one evening…

The Dragon’s Egg by Alison Baird

I was absolutely a “dragon kid” as a child, I loved any sort of dragon book I could get my hands on and I read this one over and over when I was in grade three. It’s about Ai Len who is given a lovely river stone by her father from his trip to China. Ai Len is shocked one night when, all of a sudden, she realizes that it wasn’t a stone at all, but rather a dragon’s egg. Lonely Ai Len befriends the baby dragon (who disguises himself as one of her gold fishes during the day) and helps him grow and learn as they try to figure out how he can get back home to the river his family inhabits.

Fatty Legs by Christy Jordan-Fenton and Margaret Pokiak-Fenton

Fatty Legs is the true story account of Margaret Pokiak, an Inuvialuit child who grew up with her family in the Arctic. At the age of eight, despite their reputations and her father’s reluctance, Margaret begs to be allowed to attend the Catholic residential school because there was nothing she wanted more than to learn to read. There, far from her warm, loving family, Margaret learns about the cruelties and humilities of residential school. This book is a good introduction to residential schools for young children – it shows the horrors while still keeping the story child-friendly and relatable.

The Incredible Journey by Sheila Burnford

The classic novel that inspired Disney’s film Homeward Bound. This story is about three pets – two dogs and a cat – who are left behind under the care of a family friend at an isolated cabin. These three determined pets though refuse to abandon their humans that easily. After a couple weeks of no contact, a decision is made: they will make the trek across the dangerous North Ontario wilderness in order to find their owners. This is a great animal story that genuinely feels perilous at times as these three house pets are forced to contend against the elements, wild predators, and even other humans.

Inkling by Kenneth Oppel

Kenneth Oppel is a human name in Canadian middle grade literature – not only is he a great writer, but an incredibly prolific one. If you have a middle school child in your life, consider checking out this man’s library of works because he has books that range across all sorts of different genres and topics, and they tend to be unique and gripping. They’re a staple in any Canadian school library.

Inkling is about a boy, Ethan, who is struggling with his life. His family has gone through a personal tragedy, his artist father is struggling to write a new graphic novel, and Ethan’s been entrusted with drawing the art for his school group’s graphic novel assignment, and he can’t bring himself to tell them his father’s talent wasn’t hereditary. Everything changes though, when one night, his father’s ink wakes up… This book is really heartwarming, with sweet family moments, lots of action, and an adorable ink blob that’s just trying to do its best.

My Name is Seepeetza by Shirley Sterling

Another own voice novel, this time written by West Coast Salish and residential school survivor Shirley Sterling. This novel is written like a weekly diary by six year old Seepeetza who is taken from her joyous family home and forced into a residential boarding school. While there she is forced to change her name, her language, and all the things that made her life happy and complete. Despite all this, Seepeetza finds ways to survive and still find joy. This book is written for a slightly older audience than Fatty Legs, more of a thin middle grade novel but still balances the brutal horrors of residential schools with a child-friendly narration.

The Secret World of Og by Patsy Berton

This is another Canadian children’s classic, though a much less well-known one than Anne of Green Gables. My mom read this to me and my brother in early elementary school, a chapter a night, and I remember being completely wrapped up in it and it’s strange, quirky pictures. It’s about the five Berton children who discover a strange, cavernous world hidden beneath their club house, inhabited by little creatures called Ogs.

Secrets in the Sand by Sharon Siamon

This is exactly what it looks like: a true to form Horse Girl book. There’s nothing overly special about it, but I read it this month and was charmed by it. This is technically the second book of the Saddle Island series (and she has two other Horse Girl related series as well though I haven’t read them) but for whatever reason I read the second first and actually enjoyed it more of the two. It has it all! A spunky, head-strong girl! Her best friend and annoying brother! A small, financially struggling Maritime town! A brave horse that loves the ocean and swims into underwater caves! The promise of pirate treasure! Saving The Family Farm (and rebuilding it from the ground up on a tiny island)! Want a fun mindless horse adventure? Well here it is!

Silverwing by Kenneth Oppel

I know, I know, another Kenneth Oppel book but listen… he is so prolific and also it might be a crime to do a Canadian book list and not mention Silverwing. This was a childhood staple when I was growing up, practically everyone had either read it for class, read the entire series on their own because who wouldn’t want to, or watched the weird ass TV series. Or done all three! If you haven’t read Silverwing but like animal adventure stories, this is honestly one of the peaks of the entire genre imho. It’s about Shade, a small silverwing bat that struggles with the rules and limits placed around bat colony life. He’s constantly pushing things, constantly challenging others regardless of if they’re his bullying yearmates or if they’re the clan elders. But one day, Shade takes it too far and breaks a vital law: he stayed up and saw the sun. Now the owls are determined to have Shade killed and the clan is prepared to exile him for his transgression. All this just as the clan is preparing to migrate, and Shade, with his small runty wings, ends up falling further and further behind in the storm…

Underground to Canada by Barbara Smucker

I debated whether or not to include this book, given all the BLM movements going on. This book isn’t own voice, and in the research I’ve done since becoming an adult has made me realize a number of the problems that surround it. But still, it felt wrong to leave out, both because of the social climate right now and because this was another classroom staple when I was growing up. It’s about a pair of young slave girls who are horribly abused on the planation they live on, and who eventually join in on a plot to run away, to find the rumoured “underground railroad”, a network of people who help black slaves escape captivity and escape – in this case across the border into Canada. Despite its flaws, this was a book we read in school and, through the book and classroom discussions, really introduced me to the concept of slavery and racism… and the fact that racism is still horribly alive today. It shook me as a child – it was written to be optimistic and adventurous for children, but it still had more violence and horror than I was used to in books at that age and it really shook me. So I included it in the list because, for me at least, I believe it had a positive effect on my growth as a person.

Up In Arms by Amanda Spottiswoode

This is a woefully underrated series because it really delights me. It’s about six friends, spread across two families. Though they’re from the UK, this series is all about their adventures with their uncle in Canada. Spottiswood writes children travel adventures, all set around the 1940s. The first, Brother XII’s Treasure is a treasure hunt along the West Coast during a sailing vacation; the second, The Silver Lining take them into British Columbia’s interior on cattle drive as the kids get drawn into adventures on horseback, a familiar villain, and old mining secrets. This third book I actually read before the others, and is my favourite of the series. It’s back on BC’s west coast, only this time rather than a vacation the kids of be sent to Canada because of the outbreak of WWII. You get high-flying adventure, wilderness survival, and planning a heist to help right the wrongs done to a local Indigenous community by the white settlers. It’s just a lot of fun.

[chillingadventuresinpurgatory]

Title: Mission: Let’s get my boyfriend out of Hell

Ship: Sabrina Spellman + Nicholas Scratch (Nabrina)

_______________

Hell has been...hell - no pun intended.

When Sabrina had decided of the Fright Club's first official mission, she had only one thing in mind: getting her boyfriend back. She knew that descending into the underworld wouldn't be a piece of cake, and that it might get them all killed, but she was willing to try and assume the costs.

After all, they say love makes you do crazy things.

Upon brainstorming, going down prepared and well informed seemed to be the best option, so Sabrina went to the Academy's library in hopes to find some documents on the subject but there was only so little books that talked about Hell. All she gathered was that there was four parts to the underworld: the Hell of the Damned, the Purgatory, the Limbo of the Fathers or Patriarchs, and the Limbo of the Infants.

Which part was Nicholas at? That was a good question that, alas, no one could enlighten them on. No one beside Lilith.

The latter had promised Sabrina that he'd be taken good care of, that she'd keep him in a safe place. But, safe could mean a lot of things. Did she mean safe for him, or safe for everyone else?

She most likely had stayed brief so Sabrina couldn't find her way to him and revoke the spell. After all, the half-witch's boyfriend was Lucifer's prison vessel, she could take any chances.

''My bet is on the Purgatory,'' Harvey suggested as they sat in Sabrina's bedroom. ''According to one of the books you brought, the Purgatory is a temporal punishment for sin, and the cleansing from the attachment to sin.''

Sabrina nodded, Harvey's theory made sense. She stood from her bed and went to fetch the book Harvey was talking about, reading the spine of each books of the pile of stacked book hidden in her closet. She brought it to her bed and leafed through the content until she found the right page.

''There are nine levels in the Purgatory and they are separated in two parts,'' she read out loud. ''The first two levels, also called the Ante-Purgatory, are reserved for people with stubbornness and for the repentful, and the next seven levels are reserved for sinners of the seven deadly sins: Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust. Getting entry to the Purgatory won't be easy. Each terraces - commonly called levels - are guarded by a guardian and, to have access inside, you need to be allowed access at the gate. Needless to say, they don't give access to random visitors and I'm a hundred percent certain that Lilith has warned them about me.''

''Where is Nick, though?'' Roz asked, speaking for everybody.

The blonde bit her lip. ''If we follow that pyramid levels, Lucifer, therefore, Nick's body, should be in the final terrace.''

''Sabrina, why do I have a feeling that there's something you're not telling us?''

''The final terrace is a frozen wasteland occupied by history's greatest traitors like Judas. Its betrayers are frozen in a lake of ice for eternity.''

''You mean that Nick is-''

She nodded, unable to bear hearing the end of Theo's sentence. ''If what the book say is true...''

Ambrose had said that the sleeping spell he casted on Nick would carry on until Lilith put him in a, so called, safe place which meant that the warlock was probably awake. An image of Nick, frozen underwater and incapable to move flashed behind Sabrina's eyes, his face filled with panic and terror while the red of his possessed irises stared at her.

A hand covered Sabrina's shaking one, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked up, meeting Roz's dark irises. ''We'll find him, 'Brina. We'll bring him back from that literal hell.''

.

There's a cage, Sabrina found out. She read it in a book hidden far far away in the forbidden, locked part of the library of the Academy. Her father's journals were inaccessible to the students, but these more totally prohibited to be pulled from their shelves. They were attached to a chain and no keys - nor pliers - was capable of breaking its chain. Therefore, Sabrina had no choice but to read its content at the Academy's library.

According to the book, there was a special part of Hell, designed by God to imprison Lucifer after he rebelled against Heaven. A cage. A cage situated in the furthest reaches of Hell - the Limbo.

Even though verifying the accuracy of the book wasn't a possibility, Sabrina had a feeling that the book wasn't placed there for no reasons. Clearly, the Dark Lord knew about its content and made sure no one would ever put their hands on the book. And, if the cage didn't exist, how would this book be a menace?

''If I recapitulate, our bet to free your boyfriend is on this cage we aren't certain that exists?'' Theo said, making sure he had heard right. ''This plan sounds...not safe. But, count me in!''

Roz furrowed her eyebrows. ''How come no one know about this cage? I'm not not believing you, but don,t you think Lilith wouldn't have suggested a flesh prison to keep Lucifer in if she the cage had existed. After all, isn't she the ruler of Hell now?''

''We can never be sure of Lilith's intentions. Last year, she lied to me and encouraged me to sign the Book of the Beast only so she could ascend to the throne alongside the Dark Lord,'' Sabrina reminded them. ''Nicholas is one of the most powerful warlock of his generation since my father. There is so many reasons why she could have wanted him out of her way.''

There was a knock on Sabrina's door, causing her a small heart attack. Plotting a secret plan behind her aunts's back was very stressful. She had never been so nervous to get caught before. Not even that one time where Nick had snuck in and stayed over.

''Sabrina? I made cookies. Why is your door locked?''

''Is it?'' she asked, playing coy. The blonde raised to her feet, unlocking the door to her aunt Hilda. ''It must've locked itself by accident.''

Hilda presented the plate of cookies to her niece, catching sight of Rosalind, Theo and Harvey in the back. ''Oh, I didn't know you had company over.'' She waved at them, a content smile on her lips. ''I'll go fetch you some more cookies. Would you kids like some milk?''

.

Sabrina was a bit stressed upon performing the spell that would open the portal that would lead them to Hell. The first and last time Sabrina went to Hell, Mrs. Wardwell- Lilith had been there to guide her through it, but, this time, she was on her own with no one to intervene if anything goes wrong.

The gates opened and Sabrina held her breath.

Going through the mortal Limbo had been a chilling experience. There was fog and trees everywhere and she could barely see where she was going. Piercing screams, crying babies and...animal grunts and growls were echoing. The soul eater. A shiver ran down her back.

Descending down the Purgatory was going to be much scarier than the mortal Limbo. For starter, mortals were inoffensive compared to all the creatures and evil people that were caught in the Purgatory.

So many things could go wrong in this mission. So, so many...

''Ready?'' Sabrina asked, straightening her shoulders the way her aunt Zelda did to appear strong during moments of weakness.

For Nick, Sabrina repeated herself.

Roz glanced at Theo and then Harvey who nodded. ''Ready,'' she responded.

.

Drained of energy, Sabrina fell to the ground, the iced prison Nick was confined in exploding into chips of ice. Harvey shielded Roz's face from the shards of ice as Theo curled up to protecting himself.

''Everybody okay?'' Harvey asked, brushing ice chips from his brown jacket, doing the same to Roz's. He searched for his girlfriend's and she nodded.

''I'm good,'' Theo responded, slowly uncovering his face. ''I'm good.'' He was slightly breathless, a bit shaken by what happened.

A light dust of snow started to fall from the pitless sky, an aftermath of the ice explosion.

''Theo, your cheek,'' Harvey pointed, seeing a line of blood dripping.

The petite boy brought his hand to his face, feeling wetness under it. He shrugged and wiped it on his jeans. ''It's just a cut. I'll survive. Where's Sabrina?''

They all looked around, searching frantically for the young witch. Roz had seen her crumble to the ground near the lake when the ice exploded but she wasn't on the lake's edge anymore.

'' 'Brina?'' Harvey called out.

No response.

''She's here!'' Rosalind informed, pointing at Sabrina who was crouched on the ground near some massive spikes of ice.

''Nick, Nick, wake up,'' she demanded, cradling the warlock's face between her palms.

His skin and lips had lost some of its pigments from being caught in ice for so long.

The masquerade ball attire he wore when Lilith took him had been torn to shreds, some parts of the victorian jacket either ripped or completely missing, making Sabrina's imagination go wild about the terrible things that must've happened to him for the clothing to be in this state. Lilith had promised he'd be kept safe, this was not safe.

The jacket's collar was open, a part of his chest was peaking out, the skin beginning to tear and peel, probably caused by Lucifer's attempts to damage his vessel and escape - or simply the cold.

''Nicholas.'' Her voice had gotten more desperate, begging the boy to open his eyes.

Footsteps came from behind her but Sabrina's eyes remained on Nick, still clinging to the warlock's limp body. ''Sabrina?'' Roz's voice said gently.

''Roz, he's not-'' Her voice broke, tears welling in her dark eyes.

She kneeled, joining her best friend. ''He's alive,'' the brunette confirmed, checking for Nick's pulse. It was faint, but it was there. His body was freezing cold from the icy temperature of the lake and the ice he was confined and frozen in.

A few seconds later, Harvey and Theo joined them, careful to not slip and hurt himself on a shard of ice. ''Is he okay?'' he asked, feeling uneasy at the sight of the unconscious boy on the ground, a vague souvenir of his brother's lifeless body in the mine flashing before his eyes.

Although they weren't together anymore, he still cared a lot about Sabrina and hated to see her hurting. Especially when he knew there was nothing he could do to take her pain away. It was difficult to watch.

Roz nodded. ''He's alive,'' she repeated to her boyfriend. ''But I'm afraid we'll have to carry him to the gates.''

Harvey made an annoyed face, knowing he'll have to do the carrying, but nodded.

''I'll help you.'' Theo stepped forward, volunteering.

Roz glanced around, the stillness worrying her. ''We must get out of here before someone notice what we did.''

.

''Aunt Hilda! Aunt Hilda!'' Sabrina's called frantically, a pinch of distress in her voice, as they hauled Nick inside the Spellmans's Mortuary.

The short haired woman hurried to her niece, a spatula in one hand and flour all over her apron. She was about to ask if she wanted some freshly out of the over cookies when her eyes landed on the unconscious warlock in Harvey's arms: Nicholas Scratch. Oh no.

''Aunt Hilda, we need your help,'' the half-witch said.

As much as Hilda wanted to question Sabrina on how she got Nick out of Hell, she had more pressing matters to take care of. ''Let's go to the mortuary. Harvey, put him on the table. I'll go get my stuff.'' She exited the kitchen as Sabrina showed Harvey the way. ''Sweet Lord, what did you kids do...'' the woman mumbled to herself.

Getting Nick out of Hell was a dangerous mission and Hilda was afraid of what Sabrina and her friends had done. She could understand the reasoning behind her act, but freeing Nick's body from Lucifer could lead to some terrible consequences.

Sabrina pushed the door of the mortuary, the chill temperature hitting their faces as they walked in. By luck, there was no corpse in today - or else it would've scared the hell out of Sabrina's friends.

''Here,'' she instructed to Harvey.

He deposed Nick on the metal table where Ambrose usually emptied the organs from the bodies and gave the corpses a makeover before the funerals. Seeing Nick there, on the table of the deads, gave Sabrina chills. If it weren't from the slow rise and fall of his chest, he could pass as dead.

''Free the way, free the way,'' Hilda demanded as she entered the room, her examination kit in hands.

Everyone stepped out of Hilda's way, letting her get to Nick.

''I...is he going to be okay, Auntie?'' Sabrina asked worriedly.

Hilda gave her a thin, uncertain smile. ''I don't know, darling. I'll do what I can.''

Roz went to Sabrina's side, giving her moral support.  

Having heard the calls and commotion coming from the entrance, Zelda had followed the noises, the scene unraveling before her eyes having her praise the false God that she was dreaming - or, more accurately, having a nightmare.

What was Nicholas Scratch's body doing in their mortuary when he should be locked in Hell?

''Sabrina.'' Zelda's tone was autoritary yet oddly calm which wasn't good for Sabrina. She was in big trouble. ''May I have a word with you?''

.

''What in Lilith's Hell were you thinking? Have you completely lost your mind? You put everyone's life in jeopardy when going there and removing Lucifer from Nicholas's flesh prison,'' Zelda cut in once the doors leading to the kitchen were slammed shut, furious yet relieve to have Sabrina home and alive from her clandestine mission.

While she recognized her wrong doings in this, Sabrina didn't regret her action. Cert, going to the underworld - and trespassing - was a terribly dangerous mission and required a lot of magic to cross the barriers of the purgatory and putting Lucifer's soul in his cage, but she'd do it all over again if it meant she'd get to have Nick back.

''I did it for Nick. He didn't deserve to-''

''Nicholas chose his faith. And why in Lilith's name did you drag three mortals into this berserk plan? What if something irrevocable had happen to Rosalind, Theo or Harvey? What would we have told their parents? That their children died in Hell?!'' Zelda let out a dry laugh. ''Your friends might be accepting of your dark side, but not everyone is as open as them. There is so little of our coven left, you want us to be burned at the stake like the old days? You can't continue to act so recklessly without thinking of the possible consequences it'll have on everybody, Sabrina. It's not a time to be selfish, no matter how right your actions seems to you.''

She hadn't thought of that.

Tommy's death had caused Harvey's father returned to his old drinking habits, incapable of handling the loss and utter sadness of losing a son. If it hadn't been from Sabrina's potion, his old man would probably still be downing whiskey until passing out. How would he cope if his other son passed away?

Reverend Walker had lost his mother and had to go through a tough change when his daughter had became blind. Thanks to Sabrina, Roz's eyesight had returned, but what would he do without his daughter?

Mr. Putnam had lost his brother, Jesse, from a heart attack after difficult years of taking care of him. And, in a way, he also had to mourn his daughter. Suzie didn't die, she transitioned to Theo, but the change had been a loss for him in way. What if he had to mourn Theo too?

''I...I'm sorry, Aunt Zee...''

''Where is Lucifer, now?''

''In his cage,'' Sabrina replied confidently.

Zelda blinked. ''His cage?'' She scoffed, not believing her. ''What cage are you talking about? The safest prison for him was Nicholas's body.''

''Actually, it isn't. God created this cage specifically for Lucifer after he betrayed his father and peers by killing a human. Breaking out from this cage is practically impossible.''

''God?'' Zelda repeated. ''Since when do we believe in him? This Catholic baptism must be getting to your head-''

''The cage exists, Auntie!'' the teenager insisted.

''What if the spell didn't work and he didn't get to this supposed cage? What if it sent him elsewhere or, pray not, liberated him?'' Zelda took a drag of her cigarette to exhale some tension, feeling nauseous at the idea of the Dark Lord being liberated.

When Lilith brought him to Hell, the Church of the Night had, by default, became the Church of Lilith which was a betrayal of his congregation and she didn't wish to know what he'd do to the ones who had followed Lilith.

''Lucifer is in the cage-''

''What if he isn't? We have to think of all the possibilities.'' Zelda sighed from exhaustion and stress before gaining back composure. ''Until we find out, I suspect we'll be expecting a visit from Lilith and a visit to the hellish court for all the laws you violated during your clandestine escapade to the underworld. I hope for your own good that this cage exist.''

.

It took hours before Nick did little as stirred from his deep sleep.

Hilda had concluded that no potions would be needed for the young warlock to wake up, only time. And lots of blankets. The ice he had been confined in had caused him a near hypothermia - which was very uncommon for witches and warlocks as they rarely ever get sick. You have to be in very, very low temperature to get frostbites - let alone hypothermia.

They had brought Nick up to Sabrina's room so he could lay comfortably until he wakes up and, as expected, Sabrina had stayed by his side the whole time, wanting to be there when he'll wake up. Her aunties tried to get her to leave her bedroom, but the teenage girl refused to leave her boyfriend's side or even eat a bite.

It was approaching 9pm when Sabrina's eyelids were starting to feel heavy just as Nick peered his eyes open, slowly capable of make out a cast of light and blurred lines. He blinked, thankful for the dim light of...Sabrina's bedroom. He clenched his fingers, gaining motion back.

He glanced around, eyes falling on the person he was wishing to see. Nick smiled. ''Sabrina?'' His voice was barely a whisper and hoarse from the lack of hydration, but she heard it.

''Nick!'' She instinctively rose from her old wooden chair, the plaid that was on her lap slipping, and hurried to the waking warlock's side, perching herself on the edge of her bed. ''Nick, you're awake...'' Her lips turned into a smile, quivering a little as her eyes filled with water.

''Am I?'' he asked, a bit confused from the sleeping spell and being 'asleep' for so long.

Sabrina nodded, brushing a piece of hair away from his face, happy to notice that it had gotten some color back. ''H-how are you feeling? Still cold?''

''Thirsty?''

Chuckling, Sabrina told him that she'll go fetch him some water from her ensuite bathroom. She disappeared in her bathroom and turned on the faucet, waiting for the water to get cold.

As he waited, he felt his whole body ache. His head too. Lucifer hadn't been kind to him while trapped inside. His once Dark Lord had ruthlessly tormented his soul and had caused more damages than Nick was willing to admit. He had been tortured and abused, horrific images still flashing behind his eyes every times he closed them. Images of Sabrina's beheaded body laying on the ground, his parents or imageless screams of distress and terrors from his loved ones.

Delicate footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts.

''Here. Drink up.'' Sabrina helped him sit up on her bed and handed Nick the glass of water, behaving like the perfect caretaker.

''Thanks.'' He took the glass and downed it, the cool liquid feeling heavenly as it passed down his throat.

''I should alert Aunt Hilda that you're awake.''

Upon setting Nick up in Sabrina's room, the petite woman had insisted that Sabrina warned her immediately when Nick would wake up, afraid that there would be severe psychological damages to his brain from the traumatic cohabitation.

''May I ask a favor, first?''

Sabrina furrowed her eyebrows, cautious but curious.

Nick set the empty glass on the nightstand and extended his hand in her direction. ''You know how it's difficult for me to show vulnerability and admit my weaknesses, but I really need to feel you close right now. I know I hurt you and broke your trust when we last saw each other but-''

Not letting him time to finish his sentence, Sabrina closed the space between them and pulled Nick in a hug. It took a few seconds for him to react, afraid that he was still in the lake, that Lucifer was playing with his mind and that she would vanish as soon as he'd touch her. He snaked his arms around his girlfriend's small frame, pressing his face in her sweater.

She didn't disappear.

Nick pressing impossibly closer to him. ''I knew you'd come for me, Spellman,'' he said as he embraced his girlfriend. ''You never do as asked.''

A small smirk formed on Sabrina's lips.