#and fell down a research rabbithole

[journeysfable]

Emptober Day 1: Trinket

It was hard not to run, hard not to charge forward and up the crags ahead of them and leap onto their stag and cheer. But Lark had to or else all the cheer would evaporate.

He clutched the moderately sized sack, trying not to jostle the precious artifacts within too much.

Once they had climbed the porcupine hill, as Lark had been calling it, he grinned only for Iris to put a finger up to her blue lips with a glare. 

Lark’s shoulders sagged a little but it was for the best. They didn’t want to make too much noise and cause them to get spotted.

Keeping the bag from making too much noise became more difficult as the cold of the mountains made him shiver. Something tapped his shoulder and he looked over to see Malri, a snow owl hybrid. “I can carry that for you.” They said.

Lark gave them the bag and they took to the sky, two bags in their talons.

“Hurry up. Before they realize…” The cat hybrid, Scarlet, hissed.

Both Lark and Iris hastily mounted their deer. They trotted for a while, only going faster once they felt they were safely away from the village.

The sun was rising by the time they reached their unassuming cabin in the woods. “Take the deer into the barn, Lark. We’ll put these in the basement.” Scarlet said. 

Lark led the pale colored stags to the barn and grabbed some food for them as well, praising them for their hard work.

Then he ran into the cabin and darted into the basement where Iris, Scarlet, and Malri were inspecting the items.

There were lots of books,paintings, jewels, and carved figures of various creatures and people. There were a lot of deer, even on the book covers.

Lark didn’t understand what made some colorful rocks so important to people. But the glint of red peeking through the pile of the gems they stole, it was such a beautiful shade…

When everyone was busy admiring some fancy painting, Lark snatched up the red crystal and began sorting the gems after shoving it his coat.

Once the pile was all spread out, Malri asked, “which of these does our client want?”

“One of the jewels.” Said Iris, grabbing the document off a workbench. “The red one.”

The group stared at the piles for a moment.

“There is no red one.”

“What do you mean? You grabbed every jewel in sight, didn’t you?”

Everyone nodded.

“And there wasn’t a red one?”

Everyone shook there heads.

Iris rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose our clients were wrong.”

The Market was not as rowdy as Lark expected it to be. Everyone did seem a bit on edge though. Lark supposed everyone would feel that way if surrounded by people who regularly break laws.

Lark, and Iris, took care of the stall of items they weren’t requested to grab, which they were selling to anyone, while Malri and Scarlet kept watch in the shadows.

Eventually, some people with red stag necklaces arrived and Iris spoke to them in common. They seemed incredibly confused, and then curious. Someone whispered something and the group seemed to calm down and leave. 

The moment they were done at The Market, Lark immediately crashed on his bed, embracing the warmth and softness of his blanket. 

Just before Lark was out, they thought they heard purring and someone mumbling something. 

His dreams were filled with blood and fire. He dreamed of a volcano and wilting flowers. Of glaciers falling apart, of water evaporating, of corpses and people with glorious red vines stabbing through them, pinning them in place as they screamed, blood pouring from their mouths. He dreamt that no one could hurt him ever again. 

“Lark, wakey wakey~” 

“You seemed to be having an intense dream.” Malri said.

“I had a… Nightmare.”

“You good?” Scarlet asked. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I- I dreamt I… I just dreamt I was lost in the woods and I couldn’t get out. That’s all.”

[bromcommie]

(alt title) bucky: i think im in love dum dum: that whole ass dyke would eat you alive, barnes bucky, dreamily: and i love her for that. solidarity, sister

Rating: T Word count: 2,574 Tags: Captain America: The First Avenger, World War II, Humour (somehow, despite the previous tag), Howling Commandos, A Very Fictional Marlene Dietrich, Historically Questionable Depictions of Military Tents Excerpt:

"I dunno – something a bit boyish about her, Buck," Dugan muses. Bucky gawks, lowering the shaving brush, and he really can’t decide what’s more ridiculous: the disproportionately outraged expression Bucky’s sporting or the lather still covering half of his face, seemingly forgotten and melting down his neck with alarming rapidity. “Boyish? Get outta here.” Oh, Steve thinks with a familiar level of exasperated fondness, here we go.

*leaving this at tumblr's doorstep like it's my beloved first born child I just don't know how to deal with* how the fuck do y'all post these all the time when it's so stressful.

Anyway! First time posting on AO3, so here's a ficlet about the Howlies and Marlene Dietrich because I kept banging my head against a wall trying to figure out the timeline of the much, much larger fic this is supposed to be a part of, lol.

[moonmothmama]

are people just straight-up not reviewing ai shit before it's stuck out there on the internet for everyone to see? just saw an article about keeping reptiles with a picture of a lizard with a third front leg and a heat lamp sticking out of it's neck.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

Thank you @metalbvcky. NPT for @mrs-illyrian-baby @doasyoudesireandlive @km-ffluv @labella420

🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?

As a teen I was a voracious reader and tried to write my own stuff based on other books I'd read. I also loved ST:TNG and wanted dearly to be in an episode and had lots of the books. I wrote my own ST stories with OC's (gratuitous self inserts), but they never went anywhere. In my late teens I read some Xena fanfic on the internet. But that was it for a great number of years.

At the beginning of 2021 I sat and watched the entirety of the MCU films in chronological order (I'd seen most of them before and was mainly a Thor gal.) I fell down the Stucky rabbithole. Deep. I decided to look up fanfic. AO3 was now a thing! I wrote (a very poor) Stucky fic and here we are, almost 3 years later

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

As my ST stuff never made it further than my parent's old PC in the days of dial-up, I won't count it.

I've written for MCU, various Chris Evans and Seb Stan Characters and one fic for RWRB. I've been toying with writing a one-off Criminal Minds fic as a gift for a friend.

🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Three in July since I first published anything on AO3.

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I try to balance it out. If I have a period of hyperfocus writing I try to then go through a period of reading. I read on both Tumblr and AO3, so try to keep that even as well.

🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Getting betas to pick me up on tense changes, overuse of words and rogue commas. Reading more. Practising. Writing outlines for longer stories so I don't go off-piste.

🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

Getting bored half-way through a long fic, especially if the first few parts haven't had a lot of interaction. Which is why I try to write the whole thing before I start posting.

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Engineering courses at MIT and, for a separate fic, Violet wands, including the ways to use them and the differnt types of accessories you can use with them. I even watched a Youtube video.

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any comment! Anything that gives me the validation I need!

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I wrote a transformation into Tsum-tsum fic that was both cracky and smutty. That's pretty niche.

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Action scenes. I loathe them. I'm constantly wondering if they are long enough, and make sense.

🍏What is the easiest type?

Short things that are either PWP or fluffy slices of life.

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Mainly on my elderly laptop on G-Docs, and in every moment I can - normally afterwork before dinner and on Mondays when I don't have work.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

There are a few characters and ships I haven't written that I'd like to. And I suppose I'd like to write a proper long, over 100k fic at some point.

🍇 what made you choose your username?

When I made my AO3 account I felt as though that at 40, and only really starting in Fandom in this way, I was late to the party, so that is who I became.

[wrongcaitlyn]

Do you plan on making the talk ur talk universe a trilogy? If you do, then YAYYY MORE FAMOUS NICO, and if you don't, then YAYY I HAVE A NEW FAVORITE AUTHOR

this is HILARIOUS bc i was actually DEEPLY CONSIDERING IT. like. just a few weeks ago. see the thing was i made this playlist, and i was super into it, and i was like, well shit, i already have the rest of this outlined- would i be willing to go on further???

i'll give the gist of it here: basically a majority of the first fic was around the start of his career. this fic is centered around this one album that will come out in a long long time toward the end of the fic + the seven memoir.

the third fic WOULD (heavy emphasis on would bc i'm still not so sure abt it) be centered around the egot.

in case you don't know what that is, it's basically like this prestigious thing where you've won an emmy (tv shows), grammy (music), oscar (movie), tony (musical theatre)

i once responded to this comment on talk ur talk asking whether i was intending on nico ever achieving egot status and i said no, because i don't really see him straying too far from what he's doing rn - he writes music because he loves it, and for the art, not for the prestige, but that i could definitely see apollo getting an egot sometime in the future bc i had mentioned him already having an emmy, grammy, and oscar, so he would just have a tony left and lets be real he would slay on broadway

but then i got into this mini hyperfixation on - if nico were to ever receive egot status - how would he do that?? grammy's are a given, and i went down this rabbit hole for how he could win the others, sticking to the fact that he adamantly refuses to act

oscar would be easy, best original song - something like "no time to die" by billie eilish (which won the award) or "yellow flicker beat" by lorde are movie songs that i 100% think he could write

for the emmy's there's an award for like best documentary pop culture or something like that (i can't find the doc where i put all this in but trust that i did the research at some point) which he could def do, or something that like he collaborated with apollo for - a documentary of some sort

and here's where the mini hyperfixation came in - the tony. now here's the thing i don't actually know a lot abt musical theatre. i was in like two musicals in middle school and that's it. so i did a deep dive on all the musicals that have won tony's, listened to a few soundtracks, found out that the lightning thief got TOTALLY SNUBBED???

and then fell down the hadestown rabbithole

so i'll just leave this info right here - i gave so much detail bc i'm still not rlly sure if i ever want to go into this?? simply bc i *do* know quite a bit abt pop music/production from watching videos and documentaries and stuff, but i'm really not a musical theatre person. so.

we'll see if this ever actually becomes a thing, because i know that greatest of luxuries covers a huge timespan and i'll likely be working on this for *quite* a long time, and we'll see how much motivation i would have to continue it after this! if nothing else, i think i would def go back into the universe from time to time to write little oneshots just bc of how this au has become such a huge part of my lifesjdf

aside from that, THANK YOU SO SO MUCHSDKF <333 i definitely intend to continue writing more solangelo even after talk ur talk is over, i have *so* many other au ideas and wip's that maybe i'd finally get a chance to start once talk ur talk isn't consuming so much of my time!! (not in a bad way, i truly do love writing it) <3 thank you for the ask!!

oh also, bonus note: even if i do end up ending talk ur talk after greatest of luxuries, it most definitely won’t be the end of famous nico!! i love me some fame au’s and wouldn’t be able to be stopped from writing them even if i tried😭 id likely just try out a different form of a fame au at some point, like my actor!nico and country singer!will fic based on so american which i swear is still in progress im working on it it’ll get there !!!

[askbensolo]

please tell me hows space mom

I had prepared myself for Mom to be worried about me. Usually, she wants to make sure that I haven't been hearing voices, and that I haven't been having disturbing dreams, and that I haven't been depressed or anxious, and that I haven't been participating in any weird fringe holonet politics (listen, I only fell down the What If Palpatine Didn't Die conspiracy theory rabbithole one time, and it was for research).

Anyway. I met Mom at the docking bay, where she was waiting outside the Falcon. She was leaning against the boarding ramp, dressed in casual wear but with her hair impeccably braided, scrolling rapidly on her datapad. Dad said she was always taking her work home with her, but that was just Mom. Always going.

"So. Dad let you take the Falcon out without him, huh?" I asked, causing her to look up. She smiled when she saw me, her eyes creasing, and I noticed her hair was starting to go gray near her ears. It reminded me of the mundane horror that had only begun to haunt me as an adult: the mortality of one’s parents.

I jettisoned that thought into space unknown.

"Oh, your father knows I'd never hurt his baby girl," Mom said, matching my playful tone and giving me a hug. "I'm only a little jealous."

She winked, then became more sincere as she looked at me fondly, no doubt seeing her little boy in front of her. "It's so good to see you, Ben."

"Great to see you too, Mom. Who’s your co-pilot?” I asked, leaning to the side to peer into the ship.

“You are, now,” she said, patting me on the back. “It was Threepio before.”

As if on cue, Threepio trotted out on the boarding ramp, his gold plating reflecting the late sunlight. "Oh! Young master Ben! What a pleasure to see you, sir!"

I gave him a salute. "'Sup, Threepio!"

He cocked his head and jittered his arms, flustered. "Oh, well, er...'sup, sir."

Mom and I snickered, and she gave me a smirk that I read perfectly. Threepio was an excellent protocol droid (if a little irritating), but he wasn’t a very good co-pilot.

We got situated in the cockpit. I ran my fingers over the dash…batted my hand at the golden dice that dangled from the ceiling. Took in the familiar musky scent of Wookiee hair and reformed smuggler. We started the Falcon up, and the hum of the engine was like a missing piece of my soul. The ship was a repair crew's nightmare, with so many janky modifications as to render the owner’s manual useless, and her hyperdrive failed half the time. But she was a part of us. A part of our family. Sometimes, when I couldn’t sleep at night, I closed my eyes and imagined I was in a bunk on the Falcon.

“So…how are you doing, Ben?” Mom asked, once we had left Naboo behind and open space spread out before us.

"Fine. No voices, no dreams, no neuroses, no conspiracy theories or extremist politics," I rattled off dryly, doing a Reassure Mom speedrun.

Oh Ben, I didn't mean that, I imagined her saying. I meant: how is work going? Tell me about your friends! How much can you bench now? Are you still writing poems? Have you done anything fun recently?

"Good," Mom said in reality, satisfied and clearly relieved. Something burned inside of me, biting, snarling. I turned my face away.

Chill out, I told myself. She'll probably ask more later.

And she did. In fact, the next thing out of her mouth was a question about a project at work I had mentioned to Dad a couple weeks ago, when I'd asked him to visit.

See? I told myself. The little monster inside of me grumbled and curled up to sulk.

"Maybe I could come visit you for dinner sometime," Mom said, something weird in her voice, a kind of embarrassed hopefulness. "I'm so glad you and Dad hang out. You two seem to have a good time together."

And I wish that you wanted to spend time with me, too, was the part she didn't have to say out loud for me to understand.

"Yeah...maybe," I said, embarrassed as well. "Oh...I have a different roommate, though, if you do come over. Do you remember Fannie? She was one of Luke's students..."

"Oh! Yes, I remember," Mom said. "Sweet girl. When did she move in?"

"Like...a month ago or something."

Silence. I looked at her.

"...Mom? What’s up?”

"Oh, I'm just...a bit surprised you didn't tell me sooner," she said, sounding kind of weird again. My little monster bristled defensively.

"Well...you never ask about me," I said, also starting to feel kind of weird.

"What?" she protested, the whole ship jerking slightly as she snapped to look at me, her steering hand unstable for a moment. "Ben, how can you say that? I ask about you all the time. You never respond to my messages. You've ignored my calls. You have given me every indication that you want to be left alone. I practically gave up on trying to reach out to you."

She was absolutely correct, and I didn't know how to argue with that, or how to explain what I meant. That despite all of it, I still felt like she never really asked about me.

She stared at me for several seconds, expecting me to say something. When I merely disappointed her, she faced forward again with a huff.

I wondered if maybe it would have been easier to just have dinner with Fannie instead.

"...Sorry," I mumbled, feeling five years old.

“What are you sorry for?” Mom asked, correctly not buying it.

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling four-and-a-half.

“Well...all right, then.”

Silence stretched out, like the big blackness of space, and I started feeling…I don’t know. Scared. Lonely. Angry. All those ugly teenage feelings I had declared to be cringe.

Or maybe they weren't teenage feelings. Maybe they were just person feelings, and they never went away.

...Well, one thing that was different from being a teenager is that I knew how to handle those feelings better. Most of the time, anyway.

I took a slow, deep breath to calm myself down, and let it out in a sigh, not taking my eyes off the stars. "...Look, Mom, I...I'm sorry. Really. I shouldn't have said you never ask about me. And I'm sorry I've been so terrible at keeping in touch. It's just...still kind of difficult for me that you're so—" Paranoid? Wait, no. Delete. "—concerned about my safety. I know it's 'cause you love me, but...really, I'm fine."

Mom was quiet for a moment. I looked at her. Her brows were furrowed.

"Ben...of course I trust you," she said finally. "You've grown up to become such an intelligent young man. But...you have to understand that what happened to you with Snoke wasn't...normal. This family isn't normal. Part of it is the life I chose, that your father chose when he joined the Rebellion and when he married me...and part of it, we did not choose, and I often don't understand. I have seen too many things happen to too many people I've loved, and I will never, ever let anything happen to you. Never again." Her voice was strained, as if breaking under the weight of a hundred past experiences I couldn't imagine. She turned to look me in the eyes. "Do you understand?"

Yeah, I understand there's no getting through to you, said the sassy teen Ben who lounged on the couch inside my brain. I kicked him in the shins.

"I understand, Mom," said adult Ben, who was civil, if not always fully sincere. "You've been through so much. Thanks for always looking out for me."

"I'm sorry it's been difficult for you, Ben," she said. "I always wanted you to be able to have a normal life, as much as you could. But...I wish I had realized sooner—much sooner—that in some ways, that was never possible for you. If only I had known that...if only I had been more on guard..."

Then maybe Snoke would never have gotten his hands on you, was the part she didn't have to say out loud for me to understand.

"...Hey. Mom." I reached over to pat her hand, offering a hopeful smile. "It's okay. I'm okay. See? I'm here. I lived."

I meant it as a joke, but I forgot there was a part where I almost didn't.

"What I mean is, it wasn't your fault," I said quickly. "There's no way you could have prepared yourself for something like that. There's no way any of us could have."

Mom shook her head. "I suppose not. But...don't you understand? That's why I have to make sure I'm as prepared as possible—to the extent that I can be, at least—for anything that could happen to our family in the future. To you, to Rey, to Dad...even to Uncle Luke."

"Yes, Mom. I understand," I said quietly.

And I did. I didn't like it or agree with it, but I understood.

The Falcon whirred and hummed like a happy tooka.

Mom cleared her throat. "...So. Fannie. You're...roommates now?"

I rolled my eyes. But of course, how could the conversation not go this direction? It was part of why I hadn't told her for so long in the first place.

"Housemates," I corrected. "She's staying in the living room. Just for the summer. I have someone else moving in next fall—his name is Poe Dameron—"

"Oh my goodness! No way. Kes and Shara's son?"

"Uh. I don't know. Who?"

"Oh, just some friends from the old days. What a small galaxy. But—speaking of friends. Fannie...she's still just a friend, right?"

Normally I would have emitted a groan like a dying tauntaun and shouted "uh, yessssss" with the "yes" part having at least five syllables. But this time...I found myself horrifyingly speechless.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The most disgusting awkward little chuckle came out of me, in lieu of actual words.

That was a terrible omen. I died inside.

"It's okay, sweetie, you don't have to answer," Mom said cheerfully, but it looked like she was probably formulating an answer of her own.

[nott-another-sideblog]

autistic! theo nott hcs because i want to

in first year he claimed a table at the library and sat at it so many times he couldnt sit anywhere else. one day he comes in to see some random sitting in 'his' seat and accidentally pops the poor lads inkpot out of rage. there was a hasty reparo from theo and a very quick exit after that

has broken so many quills from bending them between his fingers its unreal. he buys them in batches of ten or twenty and has broken all of them by terms end

hates getting his hair cut but also hates feeling his hair on the back of his neck. every month or so its a constant internal turmoil

really likes potions but hates touching the slimy ingredients so often ends up compromising with his partner with him doing the "boring stuff" like precise weighing or stirring to get out of touching the awful textures.

hates divination bcs there are no solid rules. the phrase "its up to interpretation" puts him into fight-or-flight mode

once stupefied someone as a reflex when they grabbed his shoulder. he was very deep into a good book and it scared the shit out of him. do not grab him ever

has learned how to use silencing charms that follow him so he doesnt have to hear the loud noises in the corridoors. this also makes it very hard to get his attention

uses sarcasm often but half of it is by accident. he just doesn't tell them its accidental

"hey, wanna go to x?"

"well. doesnt that sound exciting?"

"no need to get snarky, theo. i'm just saying it could be fun"

*was being completely serious* "fine, then. i suppose there's no harm in trying it"

brilliant poker face purely because he forgets to show emotion half the time in any way thats noticeable if you arent either used to it or looking for it

very twitchy. like, he cannot sit still. he can try. but it wont last long.

'quiet kid' until you ask him about time travel or something he's interested in. then you can't get him to shut up. i am a firm believer in theo nott who wanted to be an unspeakable but was put off by the confines of the ministry so decided to research mad shit by himself

loves the dungeons' low light level. no light means less headaches.

has the exact same breakfast every day: two toasts and a tea. except on holidays and his birthday, in which he has fruit pastries, or on sundays, where he has jam and toast

only found out he was autistic bcs a random kid he was working with asked him if he was 'on the spectrum' and he was so confused on what 'the spectrum' was that he fell down a research rabbithole and realised, oh

"sorry if this is overstepping, but are you on the spectrum?"

"the what"

"yknow, the autism spectrum"

"pardon my english, but what the fuck is an autism"

*two weeks of looking into it later*

*staring into a mirror* "ah"

hated the yule ball.absolutely despised it. went anyway because it was a once in a lifetime thing, but mainly hated it apart from the bit at the end where everyone left.

does that thing where if one side of him taps something, he. has to tap the other side to feel balanced again. if you do it you'll get what i mean, if you dont doit im sorry i cant explain it

loves pressure. sleeps with two blankets so he can feel properly buried

[rynwrites]

Set 2: Give a Little

(yes I did use this song already, no it was not actually the one I wanted to use so I changed Set 1 to Ship in a Bottle. Both work for either of these so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

have fun :)

Finn got home from school, exhausted emotionally and physically. They rested for a while, texting Adel to assure him that they were fine and got home safely, then watching some random YouTube videos. After a while, they got up to practice the violin. It was somehow soothing to their mind and body. Huh, I thought that lady said music made things worse, they thought. I wonder how they actually tested that. They liked to look into Red studies in their spare time, and it helped them stay on top of what was and wasn’t helpful to fight it off. Finn got out their laptop, falling into a research rabbithole. No wonder they got worse, they just played random noises at them through a speaker. 

Bad testing methods always irked them. Finn had compiled dozens of playlists to help them calm down, sleep, get motivated, and help with the headaches, most of which being at least a little helpful. Songs with an emotional connection were the strongest against the Red, and once even reduced one of their blackouts to a mere headache (though it still hurt really badly). So whenever a large laboratory with near-infinite resources got something wrong, they made sure to write it down in their own research. 

Finn grabbed a notebook from under their bed, the cover aptly titled “Red Research.” They scribbled down a few notes and journaled about their most recent nightmare. Once they finished their notes, they ate dinner somewhat reluctantly (Fuel to fight the Red), did some homework, though they mostly just copied the answer keys, and took a shower. By that time, it was dark, and Finn was just about ready to pass out.

As they started getting ready for bed, Finn mulled over what had happened that day in their bathroom, tracing their hand along the chain marks on their neck that the handcuffs had made earlier. I never thought it could fully take over at some point. I thought if I just managed it well enough, I would be fine. They remembered each scratch and bruise their hands had made on Adel, and got the nail clippers out again. As they turned back to the mirror they did a bit of a double take. When did my hair get so long? This morning, it was barely past shoulder-length, but now it was all the way down their back, the new growth a vibrant crimson. And Adel was right, their brown eyes barely hid the red now streaking through their irises. 

Sighing, they trimmed their hair to be closer to shoulder-length, dried it, and sprayed temporary hair color onto the roots. Then, they moved on to the nails, trimming them as short as they would go. 

Once they were done, Finn walked to their bedroom and plopped down on their bed with a long sigh. They pulled out their phone and put on their sleep playlist, though they knew they wouldn’t be able to sleep for hours. They tossed and turned for a long while before they finally fell asleep. I just hope that tomorrow is better. 

----------

The last thing you ever expect to wake up to is standing on a roof as rain pours onto your face. 

Finn quickly crouched down before they could topple down the two-story drop. Their mind was racing, making a hurricane of thought to match the downpour they now sat in. How did I get here?? What’s going on? Why am I on Adel’s roof?? They tried to breathe, to think straight, to put some logical reason to why they were at their friend’s home. Then it hit them. The Red knew how much Finn loved Adel. It knew how conflicted they were over turning themself in to protect her. But now? It was using Finn’s muscle memory against them, reminding them that it could go wherever and do whatever it wanted. It could hurt Adel anytime it wanted. It could hurt Finn anytime it wanted. 

It was toying with them.

Finn sat there for a long time. 

Eventually, they started to climb their way down the side of the house, wedging their feet into any large enough gaps in the decorative rocks. After they were safely on the ground, Finn scanned the exterior of the house, praying that they hadn’t damaged it in any way. A light suddenly clicked on in one of the windows, and a familiar face appeared. Adel, likely woken by the sound of something large scampering on and off of his roof, was peeking out of the window and had spotted Finn. She briefly vanished, then reappeared with a notebook. He wrote something down, then pressed it against the window. 

U OK?? 

Finn gave her a thumbs-up. They felt fine, besides, y’know, the existential dread. 

Adel went to write something else.

U sure? Theres a lot of blood on ur back

Huh? Finn stretched their neck, trying to look at their back, then decided to just gently touch it instead.

The jolt of pain that hit them blazed through their nervous system like a lightning bolt. They barely held in a cry of pain, falling over as their legs failed to support them any longer. The Red had been busy. There were claw marks etched into their skin, all of them made with Finn’s (now much longer) fingernails. The shock and adrenaline rush from getting off of the roof was fading, and they were starting to black out again. Adel was there in an instant, holding them by the arms. 

“I’m gonna call an ambulance, ok?” He pulled out his phone, quickly dialing in numbers. “Stay with me here, Finn.” 

“It wants to hurt you.”

Adel looked over, her panic turning into concern. “... talk me through it.”

Finn fought to stay conscious. “It made me walk all the way here in the rain to climb your roof, specifically. It knows how much you matter to me, and it’s trying to send a message.” Their voice came out raspy, trying to finish what they were saying. “It knows where you are, and it could kill you anytime it wanted.” Finn coughed out blood. “I’m sorry Adel, but I can’t keep putting you in danger like this. I have to report myself.” 

“N-no. No, you can’t do this to me, I can’t lose you, too!” Adel cried. 

The line for emergency services finally went through. “This is Adelaide Richards, I-I’m at…” 

Finn was slipping in and out of consciousness. “Adel…” They grabbed their friend’s hand. “I don’t know if it’s gonna take over again or not. I’m sorry, but I can’t hold out much longer” they whispered, praying the rain would cover their voice. 

“No, you will stay conscious, don’t leave me right now. Tell me your full name, then-- then any allergies you have, or m-medications you’re taking, then literally anything to stay awake,” Adel ordered them through a trembling voice. 

“I’m Finn…”

They fell into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~

Poor little Adel, he’s so unlucky to be stuck with you. 

What? Who’s there!?

She would be better off if you just disappeared anyway. He’s already got those rambunctious triplets to take care of, and now she has to babysit you? No wonder she hates you. 

You don’t know what you’re talking about. Adel is my friend.

A friend you put in danger simply by existing. You will always risk hurting him by being around.

N-no, I’ll find a way to get rid of you! There has to be a way!

(devious laughter) Such bravery! But it is in vain. Look, you’re hurting her right now.

~~~~~~~~~~

Finn jolted up. Adel was nearby, gashes raked up and down his arms. The sight was horrifying. “Ad--”

“Don’t.” She staggered to her feet. “Don’t you dare use their voice again.” 

“It’s me, I can do the confirmation-”

“And trick me again? Yeah, right. Good luck with that one.”

Had it used the codes? Finn figured that would explain the injuries. Adel never would have let his guard down around that thing. 

“Let them back in, or I’ll make you, you stupid little pest!” 

Finn was scrambling for a response. “A-Adel, it’s me, ok? How can I prove it to you?” 

“What was my mother’s name?”

Oh. With a sigh, Finn spoke. “Clarity Jane Richards.” 

Adel flinched, then seemed to accept their response. “Sorry, I was just making sure.”

“It’s alright, I would too. Are you ok?” Finn got up and started to walk over.

“Stop,” Adel commanded. Finn paused, confused. “I know it’s you, but since you’re ok now, you need to run. The ambulance will be here any minute, and it will be hard to convince them you’re not the one that did this.” 

“What do you mean? I’m injured, too.”

Finn touched their back again, but this time, scar tissue was already formed over the gashes. Looking at their hands, they realized their nails were about the same size, but they were much more pointed. Skin and blood were stuck underneath. Their eyes darted to Adel, panicked and full of tears. They started hyperventilating.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I--” 

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this--”

“But I did!” Finn yelled, no longer caring for secrecy. “I let it infect me, I didn’t try hard enough, I didn’t leave before you got hurt!”

“You didn’t hurt me. It did.” Adel winced as rain pelted her injuries. “Tell me you’ll remember that.”

“I-I will.”

“Then RUN, DORKUS!”

Finn started to run, stopped, then walked over to Adel and gently touched their forehead to his. “Please be ok.”

Adel smiled and whispered, “I will be. But only if you are.”

They ran like the wind.

----------

It was all over the news the next day. “Middle schooler attacked by stray cat,” a decent cover-up story. Finn faked sick, staying home to do some thinking. What do I do? Do I turn myself in?

Maybe you should run away.

Oh, shut up. 

It hadn’t left them alone since last night, and it didn’t seem like it ever would. 

You chose to bring me here that day you stayed past the bell-ringing, this is your own fault.

“Would you just be quiet!?”

Finn realized they said that out loud. It was getting worse. 

Ooh, that’ll be fun to yell in the middle of class.

They groaned, falling face-first onto their bed. They sat there for a bit, wondering what to do next. They decided to shoot Adel a text.

u good?

They waited for a good while, then sighed again, knowing that she was probably just resting.

Maybe I’ll take a little jaunt over to the hospital, see what kind of trouble I can make there. 

Mmnope. That’s a terrible idea, actually. I would really rather we not be near Adel right now, much less very ill bystanders.

Finn laid in their bed for a while longer, ruminating on what to do next. The Red was doing its best to derail every thought of something positive. It was so much more volatile than normal, especially now that it simply wouldn’t stop talking. Its favorite was to describe each and every time it had hurt someone or something (it apparently liked hunting rabbits) in immense detail. It scared Finn how much pain it had caused without them ever realizing.

Maybe… maybe I should run away. I would only risk hurting my parents by staying, and there’s no way I can get through school like this. Their mind went quiet. That was enough to convince them. I will do anything to get this thing out of my head. Finn grabbed their bag, stuffing in their hair dye, nail clippers, clothes, a phone charger, and some protein bars and water. They grabbed their violin, just in case their phone died and they needed music. They ran out their front door, not looking back.

[literarynecromancy]

🕳️- Talk about a research rabbit hole you fell down!

Hello there!~ Hope you're well~

🕳️- Talk about a research rabbit hole you fell down!

The last one I went down was information about the Pontiac Grand Prix - Will's car! I needed to know year and what it looked like and I just ended up reading the whole article and then some~ I also frequently go down researching rabbitholes for things regarding my Practice - but that's more personal to me than writing-related holes~

[lavampira]

14 and 17 for the fic asks? :D

fic writer ask meme

ty beloved!!

14. answered here!

17. what’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

I fell down a rabbithole with the spiritualism and occult revival in the 1910s-1920s while researching some spookier historical stuff for my call of cthulhu ocs mystery fic! also in part from gigi introducing me to hilma af klint’s work and the spiritualist influences of her art, too. but I learned a lot about how wwi affected the movement, grief and ptsd leading people to seeking answers and comfort elsewhere, which is also the premise of my oc’s backstory as well, and some specifics of seances (and how houdini was involved by trying to expose the falsities and prove mediums’ exploitation of others’ grief).

[kebriones]

I followed you not too long ago and i'm very curious cus you always talk about Alcibiades. I have done my bits of research to know who it is, and i imagine he was written about in ancient text.

so actually, i have two questions. first how did your interest for him start?

and two, i don't do well with anything that wasn't written this millenia honestly, do you know anything i could read about him that's more recent? any retelling or modern rewriting of ancient texts?

Yup, he is written about in Thucidides, plato and Plutarch primarily, but texts from other people mention him too.

Thucidides i would not recommend unless you're insane, but plato can surprise you if you haven't read any of it. Don't let it hold you back how long ago it was written, maybe give a chance to Alcibiades' speech in the symposium specifically ?And plutarch has written a biography of him, maybe if you find it in audiobook form it will be easier, plus it's modern English translations, it's not like you'll have to read ancient greek haha. But if that's not your cup of tea that's fine of course. As someone who hadn't read much of plato before this and had a very bad idea of him, the symposium surprised me pleasantly. If you've tried the iliad and the poem format threw you off, plato is nothing like it.

Anyways, there aren't modern rewrittings as such but there are translations, which are modern. And as for retellings, there are novels about him, or that include him, but none of them i can fully recommend, either because they are good books that don't focus on him, like "the last of the wine" or aren't that great but focus on him, like "the flowers of adonis" and these are the two somewhat good ones, there are some really bad novels about him out there. I've recommended this before a lot, but if somehow you can get your hands on Jacqueline de romilly's book on Alcibiades, i think it's the only one that's actually good. But it's not a novel, it's just a book about him.

Anyhow, to answer your first question, I've said the story before but:

one time ac Odyssey was in sale, so i got it, and i saw him in it and I was reminded of him like "oh it's that guy we learned about it school" and then I fell down a massive rabbithole. According to my friends, and past discussions in old group chats, i had an Alcibiades phase in the past too, but I have no recollection of that.

[golvio]

I fell down a ballet rabbithole during a special interest-related research binge, which eventually led me to Balanchine's "Jewels." "Rubies" is one of my favorites of the stuff I've found because the costume design and the really unusual, athletic choreography was unlike anything I'd ever seen up to that point. It's one of those pieces that really pushes the boundaries of what "ballet" can look like.

[mur-art]

Cryptid!Arizona idea?

I almost forgot about this story but I was doing some research on the Headless Horseman for reasons and I got down a weird folklore rabbithole. Anyways, here’s the Legend of the Red Ghost, with only minor embellishments: 

(Under the cut bc of some morbid shit) 

(This first part is 100% true, I swear) In the 1850s, the U.S. Army (led by some future Confederate losers) experimented with camels in the Southwest. After the Army realized that camels made terrible pack animals, they were released to wander the desert. 

(Here’s where it gets into cryptid territory) One of those camels, they say, kept wandering. The legendary “Red Ghost,” the lone survivor of its kind, terrorized ranchers, settlers, and miners across the Arizona Territory. The creature was wild-eyed and 30 feet tall with fiery red hair. It was capable of trampling people to death and attacking grizzly bears. Some said the Red Ghost was ridden by the devil himself. When a group of miners shot at the “monster,” something shook loose from its back and fell to the ground. When they looked closer, they realized it was a human skull. 

Legend has it that a ghostly rider was strapped to the Red Ghost; a man who had died while riding the camel many years before. Some say it was a miner dying of thirst, who had strapped himself to the camel hoping that it would lead him to water. Others say it was a soldier who was trapped on the camel’s back when it bolted off into the desert. Nevertheless, the leather straps holding the man in the saddle were so tight that they cut into the camel’s back, binding his skeletal corpse together with the camel forever. 

As legend has it, the Red Ghost was shot and killed in 1893 by a farmer, but... perhaps if the desert night is quiet and still... if you’re walking down by a dry wash and feel the chill of a sudden humid breeze... if you hear a coyote’s lonely chorus and it pierces your soul... 

Maybe, just maybe, the Red Ghost still wanders the Arizona desert. 

...

I feel like this legend could make for a great AZ cryptid concept, with some creative embellishment. But that's the fun part, right?

[gilded-atlas]

so obviously there's a lot of things to hate about living in the south, but one thing that I rally enjoy is the fact that a lot of people carry around bandanas, since lots of people work outside and it gets hot or dirty or whatever, and a lot of the time, they stick the bandana in their back pocket whenever they're not using it, and I know they don't mean anything by it, but after season 4 of stranger things came out, I fell down a rabbithole researching the handkerchief code, and I always find it very funny when I see an aggressively masculine or vocally homophobic guy at my school with a bandana in his pocket that means he likes getting fisted

[hylianengineer]

Once again my anthropology homework got too interesting and I fell down a research rabbithole for four hours.

I now know entirely too much about the 1893 Chicago World's Fair in the context of anthropology, representation of Indigenous people, and how those people resisted the colonialist narratives the fair's organizers tried to force them into. I read most of a 300 page dissertation on the experience of a group of Inuit from Labrador, Canada who were coerced into performing at this fair, and then fought back using the US legal system when their employers began mistreating them (and won).

I asked a question in the group discussion post, nobody answered it, and then this happens. I had other things I was supposed to do today. On the one hand, if only all my homework was this captivating. On the other hand, my time management skills continue to infuriate me.

[halfbakedspuds]

Worldbuilding technology and science for 27th century human society in my book has led my research to some... obscure places.

One of the funnier ones that a friend of mine bore witness to was me trying to figure out exactly how fast ships need to move on interstellar voyages (At least the parts of the journey that aren't in a star system), which was a mess of me trying to figure out the density of stars between Earth and the edge of the milky way, then realising I actually have no idea where the Solar system is in the Milky Way and detouring to Google that, then trying to figure out what would be a good travel speed to make the hop from Sol to Alpha Centauri, and finally trying to mess around with it so that a trip from Earth to where I put Lyanni's world on the map takes a month.

And I tell you, two days later I was losing my mind trying to figure all of this out cause I'm not a particularly intelligent person. (I legitimately ended up creating an app for so that I could just adjust interstellar speed with a slider and immediately get an answer)

(Bare in mind that routes are often plotted past vast swathes of space without stopping in a star system simply because humanity hasn't gotten around to settling those yet and thus there's no reason to stop there,)

TL:DR, I fell down a rabbithole and the answer is around 16,000 times the speed of light for interstellar hops (About two and a half hours from Sol to Alpha Centauri)

Worldbuilding! So many rabbitholes for so many random things!