#but I’m broke so I can’t think of anything other than essentials

[rosicheeks]

:(

[lucifersdickriderdotnet]

Sick and Tired

Summary: you can't say that anything about having a chronic illness is fun, but at least you have friends who care about you. 2.7k words

Disclaimer: GENDER NEUTRAL READER I wrote this in one go at like 3am. So. All of the brothers are in this but it's more platonic than anything else? If you want you can read it as romance because I did imagine kissing several of them on the mouth while writing it. also shout out to the author on ao3 that called Asmo "Momo" and then pointed out that it means "peach" in japanese. I did steal that nickname. lmk if it was you though bc I will credit you.

Notes: This is based on my own personal experience with a mystery disease that has been plaguing me since I hit puberty. I'm going to be very real, I wrote this for myself as a way to cope because I got #sad. it sucks, for sure, but there are some things that make it more bearable and isn't that how life works anyways?

The cool thing about being a human in what is essentially hell is that when diseases happen, you are more or less immune to them. The bad part about being a human in what is essentially hell is that you’re human and it’s essentially hell. Because of this, there are some things that you’ve had to explain to your housemates, or to an overeager Diavolo, or to a concerned Luke. You had to talk Lucifer down from renovating the whole House to put in an elevator because he was “worried about your flimsy human joints.”

“I have bad joints, regardless.” You remember saying, “I’m a human, it comes with the territory. Don’t put an elevator in the House, I don’t like them anyway.”

You’ve had to explain that while you’re grateful that they managed to find vitamin D supplements, they’re meant to be just that, a supplement to spending time in the sun, something the Devildom doesn’t have. So while your symptoms have been alleviated, they have not been fixed. Levi fixed this by buying you something like a heat lamp.

“Where did you even find this?” You’d said after he’d forced you underneath it.

“You’re gonna hate the words that are going to come out of my mouth.” His hands stilled from where they were busy attaching it to the wall by your bed.

“Just tell me.”

“Some demons used to, emphasis on ‘used to’, own humans as pets. So they made these little lamps to mimic the sun or whatever.” You blink at him, rapid fire before shrugging a little.

“Humans used to own each other.” He turns his head to gape at you like a fish.

“What?”

“Yeah it was a whole thing. There are still lasting repercussions that echo through our modern society.”

“That’s insane.”

“I thought I told you before that human cruelty knows no bounds.”

Solomon of course, is no help, because while he may be human, he is old. You’d complained of jaw pain once, something about your teeth aching.

“It might be a demon.” He’d said this confidently at the one dinner a month he’s allowed to have with the brothers. As per the dating-Asmo-agreement he made with Lucifer.

“It might be a what?” Satan’s head whipped towards Solomon so fast you thought he broke something.

“A demon. Tooth pain is caused by little demons in the teeth.” You stared at him like he grew a second head.

“No, it’s not. It’s caused by bacteria eating away at your teeth. And that’s just for cavities. This could be something completely different. Also, I don’t think humans have believed the demon teeth thing in forever. God, you’re old.” Your frustrated rebuttal of Solomon’s “wisdom” had not stopped the brothers from checking you up and down for curses or signs of possession.

So, for the most part. It’s fine, and you don’t mind explaining these things to them just like they don’t mind explaining demon culture to you. This though, you’ve never been able to explain to anyone, so you can’t explain it to them either.

—

“I’m so tired,” it’s noon and you woke up from sleeping two hours earlier. Asmo has dragged you out of the house for some shopping spree, and while you were excited to go, your energy levels have quickly depleted.

“But darling! We just started!” Despite saying this, he’s walking towards the register with the clothes he’s decided he likes, willing to cut his trip short if it’s for you. You shake your head.

“No, no, keep shopping. I’m always tired, Peach.” He hums and goes back to perusing the shelves while you stay seated by the dressing room for his mini fashion shows.

You don’t just get tired while hanging out with Asmo, it happens everywhere. Beel has to catch your head when you almost faceplant into your lunch. You spend a Devildom History class fighting to keep your eyes open while Satan takes twice the amount of notes as usual so you don’t fall behind. Levi asks you to watch a special livestream of a Sucre Frenzy concert and you have to sit down halfway through because you’re suddenly dizzy. You even fall tired while driving Mammon’s car, once.

He’d been in the passenger seat, fretting over your every move, and you’d understood despite the fact that it was incredibly annoying. This car was his baby, something he was incredibly proud of, something he worked hard to get. Still, having someone freak out over your driving usually makes it worse.

You’d been gently reassuring him of your skills when you felt it, the familiar pull of your eyelids, the way your brain seemed to slow down. It takes you a second longer than it should to register the red light and you have to slam on the brakes to avoid running it. It’s not too soon after that when you decide to pull over and have Mammon drive you home. You fall asleep on the way back.

—

This all comes to a head when you manage to outsleep Belphie.You aren’t sure how you did it, honestly. You went to bed on Friday afternoon and vaguely remember being woken up because a meal was ready. You remember making some sort of affirmative noise and then going back to sleep. You have hazy memories of stumbling to the bathroom and chugging down bottles of water, but mostly it was just sleep. Then, Belphie is shaking you awake. He’s saying something you can’t quite hear and Beel is picking you up and carrying you to the living room and the lights are so bright it turns your brain back on.

“Belphie, did you do somethin’?” It’s Mammon’s voice, accusatory. Someone pokes your cheek.

“So you kill a guy once and suddenly everything that happens to them is your fault?” His reply makes you snort.

“Did you or not?”

“No. This is… this is something else.” He sighs and then one of your eyelids is being manually opened so he can make eye contact with you before he lets go and your head drops slightly. “I know what my sin feels like. I know what Sloth feels like. It’s a choice, mostly. It’s the action of choosing to do nothing rather than something. This is something else. Something completely different.” You yawn and scrub at your eyes, finally opening them to stare at your posse.

“Did I get a fanclub while I was napping?”

“You’ve always had a fanclub,” Levi says quietly.

“Napping? You call that a nap?” Asmo pokes your cheek and you assume he’s the one who did it the first time.

“How do you know they have a fanclub?” Satan turns his head to Levi and his brother turns a bright shade of red.

“I’m the president.” He says. Beel raises his hand.

“I’m VP. We hold meetings every Wednesday. Lucifer pretends it’s stupid but he’s always in the club room ‘doing student council work’.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Lucifer finally interjects, not wanting to deal with his brothers’ needling. Satan grumbles something about him being a loser under his breath. “Are you aware of how long you were asleep for?”

“I mean, I dunno,” you stretch your arms above your head and almost hit someone in the face. “I remember someone coming to me about dinner, so probably a while. Why?” Lucifer sighs and rubs a hand down his face.

“It’s Sunday afternoon.” You stare at him blankly.

“This is the worst joke you’ve ever told.”

“I am not joking,” he says and Levi shoves his D.D.D under your nose. Sure enough it says that today, the day you are finally awake, is Sunday. It says that it’s 2pm. You’ve slept for almost a full 48 hours. The thought brings tears to your eyes immediately and Levi freaks out.

“No wait, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do when you cry!” His hands are flapping around your face uselessly and it makes you laugh and choke on a wet sob.

“You can back the fuck up, for starters.” Satan bodily pushes his brothers out of the way to get to you, placing a box of tissues on your lap and sitting next to you. Not close enough to touch, but enough so you know he’s there.

“Sorry,” you take a tissue and blow your nose. Beel holds out a trashcan and Asmo pretends not to be disgusted. It’s sweet. “Crying in front of people is so cringe.”

“Being vulnerable and crying is not something you should be ashamed of,” Lucifer says and it’s weird to have your own words parroted back at you.

“Why’re you apologizin’ anyway? ‘S not like you did anythin’ wrong. We’re just worried is all.” Mammon runs a hand over your hair as he says it before remembering himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s never been this bad before. I’ve never slept for damn near two days.”

“So this is a recurring problem?” Satan has procured a notebook from out of nowhere and has his hand poised to write down what you’re saying. Presumably to go scour his books for a solution.

“Yeah. It’s … I’m tired a lot. Always, really. I’m tired right now, actually. Sometimes it’s worse than others but … I don’t really know what’s wrong.” You huff, “I was actually in the process of getting tests done to figure it out when I got magic-ed here. Isn’t that funny?”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Asmo is resting his head on your shoulder and you tilt your head so it rests on his.

“Not really. ‘M sorry, Peach. I’d tell you if there was.”

“I always wondered why you had such deep eyebags. I thought it was something in your skincare routine.”

“It’s also genetic.”

“Humans have genes for dark under eyes?” He sounds horrified at the prospect.

“Sure do.”

“That’s miserable.” You laugh at him and he squeezes your hand gently.

“So, yer just… tired.” Mammon asks.

“Mhm.”

“Chronically.”

“Also yes.”

“I didn’t know you knew the word ‘chronic’, Mammon,” Belphie ribs Mammon from his spot on the floor. You kick him slightly.

“Don’t be an ass.” He sighs dramatically and flops over onto his back.

“It’s good to know it’s not a freaky demon thing.” He peers up at you from underneath his bangs.

“Yeah. I’m kind of tired of dealing with freaky demon things. No offense.” There’s a chorus of agreement throughout the room and you can see everyone relax a little now that they know.

“It is a shame though,” Lucifer says, “that it is not demon related.” His brow furrows. “Those I can fix.” You shrug and slightly jostle Asmo’s head.

“Eh. That’s life. Thank you for being concerned though, I appreciate it.” Your stomach grumbles. “I guess I should eat, huh?” Asmo graciously lifts his head off your shoulder and you head to the kitchen, Beel on your tail.

“There’s nothing we can do?” He looks sad, and he’s rubbing his wrist in that way he does when he’s nervous. You’re struck with the realization that Beel is the defender of his family. He’s physically the biggest and the strongest, and he’s been looking after them and taking care of them physically for basically forever. It must be excruciating for him to not be able to help you.

“No,” you shake your head sadly, “I’m sorry, Bug.” You step forward and give him a hug. He returns it and you pretend you can’t feel him cry.

—

Things are different after that. Asmo tries to hang out with you in places closer to the House or in his room. Lucifer pulls you aside and tells you both his room and his study are always open for you if you need them. Beel takes you to the gym with him so you don’t stay too sedentary, but is always willing to stop working out if you need to go home. Satan almost gets into a physical altercation with a teacher over you sleeping in class and you find out later that Belphie gave him nightmares for a week. Levi doesn’t make you sit through as many anime binges anymore, instead separating them up into something more bite sized so you can properly enjoy it. It’s nice, you think, that they’re trying to take your needs into consideration.

Diavolo catches wind of it and sneaks his way over to the House to ask you questions. Walks into Lucifer’s study where you’re trying to do assigned reading like he owns it, and you think that he probably does in some way.

“Diavolo–” Lucifer stands up and Diavolo laughs.

“Don’t worry! There is nothing wrong! I just had some questions for our lovely exchange student.” He sits down in the armchair across from you and you set your notebook down.

“What’s up?” You can hear Lucifer mumbling prayers to a God who will no longer listen to them and it makes you snort.

“I have learned of your condition.”

“I gathered.”

“There is nothing I can do?”

“Do you have several degrees and a shit ton of fancy machinery?” Lucifer chokes at your language. Diavolo smiles at you.

“Can’t say that I do.”

“Then, no. There isn’t.” He hums thoughtfully and you busy yourself with trying to figure out Lucifer’s Demonus organization pattern. It doesn’t seem to be by age, so maybe it’s by color?

“What does it feel like?” Diavolo’s question draws you out of your comparison of two almost identical wine reds. You think one has a brighter undertone but that could be the color of the label.

“Have you ever been tired?”

“Indeed.”

“Have you ever not slept, for like, a whole day, and you can feel that your brain isn’t working at maximum capacity?” He nods. “Have you ever felt like you were trying to run in a swimming pool?”

“I can run in swimming pools.” You roll your eyes.

“Can you run through slime?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s like that. It’s being so tired that you know you aren’t operating at your best and being able to do nothing about it. It’s like moving through water. It’s never getting enough sleep. I could sleep the perfect amount for a human my age and I would still be down to take several long naps throughout the day. And it’s not something I can ignore, either. I can’t just power through it. Because after a while, it starts to hurt.”

“Hurt?” He frowns, and it’s weird to see him not smiling.

“Yeah. It’s. When I get too tired my eyes will hurt. It feels like they’re grapes and someone is squishing the life out of them. It feels like a thousand tiny needles poking at my eyes. It feels like someone is squishing the bridge of my nose in their fist and refuses to let go. It makes my stomach hurt, it makes me nauseous and sick, and it makes me dizzy and it’s awful.”

“I see.”

“So, I have to sleep. I have to sleep because if I don’t it hurts and if I manage to get through that my body will make itself sleep, anyway. It’ll just turn off, regardless of if I want it to or not.”

“That. That is miserable. I am sorry you have to experience such a thing.” You shrug a little and stare at your hands.

“What can you do?” It comes out sarcastic and dry. There’s a silence, tense and weighty, and you know what he’s going to ask before he does.

“Do you need to go to the human world?” You can hear Lucifer’s sharp inhale even though he was pretending to not listen.

“Maybe. But, if it is what I think it is, it won’t go away. I’ll just know and get medication. Probably.” Diavolo stands and nods.

“At least you will know. I will figure something out for you.” He nods again, this time to himself. “There is no reason for you to suffer this way.”

“It won’t go away, Diavolo. I’ll still have it.” You need him to know this. You need him to know that it won’t be permanently fixed. You don’t want him to be disappointed when everything’s said and done and you’re still sick.

“Yes, but things will be better, no? Some progress is better than no progress, no matter how small.” He pauses and smiles at you, warm and comforting. “And we will all be there for you. Regardless of the outcome.”

[pinkies-senses]

Dear Celestia,

Today…

Twilight bit the bottom of her lip, staring at the blank page that was supposed to be finished and sent off an hour ago. Her hooves sat crossed in front of her, already gone numb from staying in that position for longer than what would’ve been recommended.

There was nothing new to write to her mentor, today was the same as yesterday.

Reassure the ponies and other refugees, wait for a cure or Spike to report back to her, have guards check on Rarity’s health, vent to Cadence about sitting around and doing nothing, and… well… sitting around and doing nothing.

“Look on the bright side-” her brother said to her earlier that day, before completing that sentence with the dumbest thing she has heard slip from his mouth.

“-at least you get to relax and swap roles with Celestia and her sister. It’s about time they did something for once.”

That earned him a scowl and a smack upside the head from Cadence’s wing.

Twilight’s ears flattened against her head.

As if she enjoyed sitting there and watching her friends and people rot! What’s so “relaxing” about that??? The audacity!

“…and don’t get me started on the jab he made at you and Luna, Celestia! I get that he means well, but for buck’s sake! You can’t control your powers! If you tried, you’d accidentally go scorched earth! What does he not understand???”

Snap!

Twilight’s head whipped around to stare at her quill, which broke at the force of her erratic writing.

She wasn’t even aware she was writing down her own thoughts.

She threw away her quill and crumbled up the paper with her magic only to pause… and opened it up again.

What stood out to her wasn’t the words itself (The page held nothing important, just some rant she copied onto the page.), but rather how relieved she felt.

She hasn’t written anything about her feelings nor her personal thoughts in a long time, not when she has been so busy trying to run what was essentially a refugee camp and finding a cure for the parasite that plagues Equestria.

The only substance that has filled once empty journals has been research and documentation.

In other words… she hasn’t been writing for herself.

Twilight placed the crumpled page into an empty journal and flipped to the next page, pausing to think if she even has the time for such an unimportant task.

‘…Well. It’s not like I have anything to write about tonight.’

So there she stayed in that room full of crystallized furniture and velvety sheets, preparing a hot cup of tea and a snack for that night’s leisure…

End of prologue…

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

Looky, a prologue! He ha Ho!

I’m really tired rn and I’m off my meds but tell me how the writing is! I haven’t written in a while so bear with me, goody goody?

Also eat grass, smoke fast, sled ass 💪

[nethhiri]

Chapter 54: Saccharine

Warnings: references to violence, menstruation

While you didn’t remember falling asleep, you certainly must have at some point. The thing about being blind was that light couldn’t make it to your brain to tell you what time it was, nor could it regulate your circadian rhythm, so you fell asleep and woke up at random times while your body adjusted to it’s new lightless cycle. You couldn’t tell what time it was, but guessed it was sometime in the early hours of the morning. It was an educated guess based on the hulking beast essentially roaring in your ear with every breath. That and the fact that you were in Killer’s room and Killer wasn’t there. Feeling around the side of the bed opposite Kid, it was still slightly warm. Killer must have just woken up to start making food for the crew.

Usually you would have gone with him to watch the sunrise and share coffee. Thinking about how you would never be able to do that again, for even a split second, sent you back to all the depressing thoughts you were having the previous day. Worse, Killer didn’t bother to wake you, knowing that you couldn’t admire the dawn with him. You would have still wanted to have coffee in his company. You could still do that at the very least.

As you lay in bed, a wave of nausea came over you, followed by the beginnings of a headache. The nausea was easily attributed to the antibiotics you were taking, and the headache could be any number of things: fucked up sleep, dehydration, Kid’s obnoxious snoring. It wasn’t enough to bother you yet. The only thing bothering you at the moment was figuring out how to break free of Kid’s hold so you could go pee. Over the many mornings you had spent with Kid, you were only able to remove him yourself occasionally. More often, Killer would have to rescue you. You were actually a little bit surprised Kid stayed with you for however long you had been asleep. You could tell he still had his clothes on so he must have been there the entire time. 

Your hands searched out Kid’s face. One of them was over his mouth and the other pinched his nose. He twitched a few times and then thrashed to escape your grip for a breath. Instead of releasing you, as you thought he would, he only squeezed you tighter to him with a whine, making the healing wound on your chest twinge uncomfortably. You tried it again. This time, Kid’s own thrashing woke him up when he bucked his head back and hit it against the headboard.

“Ow fuck. What the fuck?” Kid’s groggy voice replaced his snoring. “Can’t ya wake me up in a more pleasant way? Like sittin on my face.”

“I could if you didn’t hold me in a vice grip . Let go of me. Gotta pee.”

When he lazily released you, you rolled on your stomach and scooted down the bed until you felt your feet touch the floor. As you stood up, you felt dizzy, but the feeling passed relatively quickly. You carefully shuffled your way to the bathroom, trying not to trip or run into anything.

As if suddenly realizing you were blind, Kid stumbled out of bed to help. “Shit. Lemme help ya.”

“I’m don’t need help. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and let me- OH shit yer bleeding!”

“Huh?” You felt the bandages on your chest. They were dry. “No I’m not.”

“Not there. Uh it’s- yer bleeding from-“ Kid pointed, again forgetting that you couldn't see.

“Oh.”

It was something that you hadn’t experienced in quite some time. And you would have been perfectly fine without experiencing it ever again. The familiar feeling of warm blood sliding out from your vagina to trickle down your leg. You might have noticed sooner if you had on panties. The cool wet feeling against your crotch was more noticeable than body temperature blood on skin.

“Are ya okay? Are ya hurt?!”

Kid broke out in a sweat when his eyes fell upon the dark red, clotty blood clinging to your inner thighs. He had pushed a lot of the bad thoughts about what had been done to you out of his mind, but they came flooding back in at the sight. His mind swam and he felt sick wondering if you had internal injuries. Although he had seen a fraction of your trauma firsthand, he knew whatever happened off camera was worse. And he felt sicker knowing that it was his fault. If he hadn’t opened his big mouth, maybe the worst of it wouldn’t have happened. Kid was about to run and fetch Killer for help, but you stopped him.

Putting the nausea, headache, and dizziness together, it all made sense. “No. I think… it’s my period?” 

It couldn't be internal lacerations or anything of that nature because you had healed all the injuries that weren't infected somewhat indiscriminately, including any tears you had in the perineal area and anal and vaginal canals. What you didn't understand was how you were bleeding. Ever since the injury that caused your uterus to put out of commission, you hadn't experienced menstruation. It must have been your healing. You had inadvertently healed the scarring in your uterus. The hormones you had been given in captivity had made whatever endometrium you had left thicken in preparation for an egg to implant. The absence of them had caused the lining to slough, and now that your uterus had a patent cavity, it was able to exit. The dull ache of a cramp solidified your theory. You didn't really remember how your periods used to be, but how bad could it have been if you couldn't remember?

"Didn't think ya got those anymore." Kid put his hand on your shoulder to steer you to the bathroom, thinking about the misunderstanding where he thought he had gotten you pregnant in the past. 

"I think I accidentally healed that old injury that kept it from happening." You cleaned up your thighs with some toilet paper. "Can you ask one of the girls for a tampon or pad or something?"

Kid shuffled his feet. "Uh... how?"

"With words." You didn't hear him move. "Well? Get moving." The sound of grumbling and reluctant footsteps faded off as Kid left. 

You wished you could blame your recent emotional distress on this, but you knew it was the trauma manifesting. His sure did take his time. You waited on the toilet for a while before deciding to give your healing another shot. Although you still didn't feel well, part of it could be attributed to your cycle. Focusing on your chest, you willed your power to pull the skin across the scabbed over wound. Your hands lay on your chest to map your progress by poking to see which areas still hurt. Only a small area remained. Even so, you didn't have the energy to finish the job. As you waited, the cramps got slightly more intense.

The door opened and you called, "Kid?" 

"And Killer." You heard the first-mate answer.

After taking care of your bleeding issue with whatever Kid could scrounge up, you let Killer change your bandages. You sat on the edge of Killer's bed, still in his shirt, now with some of his boxers on too. 

"You were able to heal more? It looks much better." 

You nodded with a pained expression, as another, stronger cramp took hold. 

"Here." Killer put something warm in your hands, curling them around a cup. 

You sniffed it. "You brought me coffee?"

"And I brought ya breakfast," Kid's voice interrupted.

Your stomach was rumbling in a bad way. "I think I better pass. But it was thoughtful of you to bring a plate."

"Eh Killer asked me to. But I brought yer pussy shit!"

You snorted. "Yes. Good boy. Thanks for bringing my 'pussy shit'." You made air quotes. It was clear that Kid wanted a little praise for helping. Though you would put money on it that Heat actually had to ask the girls for feminine products and Kid was too embarrassed.

"Can I eat this then?" Kid was not about to waste Killer's cooking. 

"Knock yourself out." 

"Sweet." Kid's feet headed toward the door. "I'm gonna be in the shop." He slowed down and trotted back toward you to press a kiss on your cheek. "Feel better, bunny." Kid practically skipped out of the room. 

Your cheeks were hot as he called you by the pet name he normally reserved for more intimate times. It was just Killer there, but still. You lifted the coffee he brought you to your mouth and blew on the surface so you wouldn't burn your tongue, scooting back on the bed so that you could lean against the headboard and have your legs out. The mug was nice and warm. After taking a few sips, you placed it right over your lower stomach to ease the cramps, which were rolling in more frequently and worse. You heard the drag of a mug from the side table and felt the bed dip. Then there was an arm around you, pulling you in to lean on Killer's side. You heard him take a drink.

"You didn't have your coffee yet?"

"I wanted to share it with you. Like we always do." 

"Minus the sunrise."

"Got it covered, darlin." There was the sound of paper unfolding. Killer cleared his throat. "Dark blue, purpley-pink, coral, bright orange, pale yellow, sky blue. Four fish jumps, two seagulls, one pelican, one mama whale and baby, and one sea king."

You felt guilty about earlier when you thought that he had done your thing by himself. You didn't expect this. This went beyond a nice gesture. This was loving. He watched the sunrise for the both of you and wrote everything down? You had to turn your face from him and say something snarky so you didn't tear up. "You're lying about the sea king." 

"I'm not. Swear on Kid's life." 

You humphed. "Not fair." They were always a sight to behold, no matter how many you had seen.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the time together. You sipped your coffee until there was nothing left. Killer made it exactly how you liked it. He took the empty mug from you and set it on the side table. Drinking coffee on an empty, mildly upset stomach was not the best thing to do, but it was the only thing you thought you could keep down for now. Killer rubbed your arm with his fingers in light circles. 

"Kid seems to be in an uncharacteristically good mood lately," you mused. He hadn't even stomped once since you had been better.

"He's relieved that you're alive." Killer paused. "No one was sure if we would get you back. I think we convinced ourselves that when, if, we found you, it would be too late. If we did that, then we couldn't be disappointed if that was exactly the case. Any outcome that ended with you being alive was more than we could have dared hope for. Everyone wanted to believe we would find you alive, but we were too scared that we would be let down." His arm tightened around you. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get heavy."

"I didn't think... everyone cared that much. I mean you and Kid... yeah, but everyone else?" 

"You are part of the crew. The crew is our family. You are our family." Killer paused. "If it were Quincy or Emma, wouldn't you feel the same?" 

"Yeah... but I haven't been a part of the crew for as long. I'm not as integrated."

"What are you talking about? You've healed every single person on this ship at some point. You've fought for every single person on this ship and risked your life more than once." In a more gentle tone, Killer added, "When are you going to accept that you are worthy of being loved? And I'm not only talking about Kid and I." He meant them, and Heat, Wire, all your friends in the crew, everyone. 

You knew Killer was right. There was something inside you that put up a barrier against fully feeling like part of the crew. It protected you in case one day they decided otherwise. Then you wouldn't feel as heartbroken. It had started to crumble not so long ago, but the deceptive words of Warthin had built part of it back up again. Something Killer said had caught your attention.

"Kid and you?" 

In the silence that followed, you wish you had your vision back. Killer was probably so red he was purple. 

"Uh, well." Killer paused in his discomfort. "Yeah. I was... gonna tell you. I wanted to tell you." 

You smiled softly. "You didn't have to say it. You show it with everything you do. But... It's still nice to hear." There was a long pause. "That's your cue to say it." You put a hand behind your ear playfully. 

"I guess I have no choice. I have to compete with your three other boyfriends." 

"Huh? Three?"

Killer chuckled. "That's what you said in your sleep, when I was taking care of you." 

"I wonder what I meant by that."

"Probably wishful thinking. I think Wire and Heat would find it very amusing," Killer teased.

"I don't need eyes to kick your ass, Massacre Soldier."

Killer leaned down and nuzzled his face into your neck. "I love you, little breadcrumb." He kissed your cheek. 

______________________________________________________________

Several hours later, you were writhing in pain. Kid took you to his cabin to keep you company while Killer attend to his own duties. They both thought it best not to leave you alone with your thoughts, and for that you were grateful. Kid sat at the desk in his room and was working on some schematics or maybe charting. You couldn't tell, but you could hear the sound of his pencil furiously working. During this, Kid kept asking if you were ok and you kept replying that you were fine, but your clipped tone suggested otherwise. There was no more pain medication, not even the weak stuff. It had been used on you when you were unconscious. Kid didn't like watching you toss and turn, switching from fetal position one direction to the other, trying to get comfortable. 

"Are you sure I can't get you-"

You half growled. "Get me heat and some fucking chocolate if it will make you shut up."

All the years that you had gone without menstruating seemed to catch up at once, hitting you with every missed cramp and migraine, plus interest. Between the cramping and your lower back aching, it felt like someone was spearing you through the middle. You could feel Kid's worry seeping into you from across the room and it annoyed you. This was nothing compared to what you had endured, and yet it knocked you flat on your back. You couldn't fight it with fists. If you had full use of your devil fruit, you could end it. Maybe tomorrow would be the day. You knew you shouldn't snap at Kid and you were guilty about it. The pain of the migraine you were now experiencing and the cramps squeezing the life out of you interfered with your ability to be nice. If Kid wanted to help so badly, then so be it. He could get you a warm pack and one of your cravings. 

A few minutes later, Kid returned. "Alright, lass. I brought Heat and I didn't know what kind of chocolate ya wanted, so I brought all of it."

"What do you mean you brought Heat? I meant like a warm compress or something."

"Oh. Heat, ya can lea-"

"No! He'll do." You rolled to make room on Kid's bed. "Come." You patted the vacancy.

Heat stiffly got in beside you, unsure of the situation. He hadn't seen much of you since you returned. In fact, the last he saw you, you were near-dead on a gurney in the infirmary. This was improvement. He still didn't want to hurt you by accident, or, more likely, get hurt by you. You were giving him such a mean look, especially for someone with no eyes.

"Hands." You demanded. When he didn't move fast enough, you repeated,"Hands!" 

Heat hurriedly gave you both of his hands. You slapped one on your lower back, and the other on your lower stomach, making a sandwich of yourself. Finally, his higher than normal body temperature started to soothe your pains. He had to lay on his side to keep his hands in place. You groaned as your aches grew duller. Normally, Heat would have been very into you ordering him around. He was too intimidated to have horny thoughts. Nor was it the right time to. When your breathing slowed and it seemed as if you were asleep. Heat thought about getting up. 

"Boss," Heat whispered, "I'm scared to move."

"You should be," you said, definitely not asleep.

Kid cackled from across the room.

"Keep it down! My fuckin head is killing me." 

Kid choked his laugh back. "My bad, doll." 

There was a subtle jiggle in his hands as Heat silently laughed at his captain getting scolded. You put your hands on top of his, pressing it harder into your gut. 

"Make them hotter," you told Heat.

"I can't control my body temperature." 

You grumbled your displeasure. 

Later, as you started feeling better, you dismissed Heat so he could go do his actual tasks for the day. Killer brought you lunch, which you weren't hungry for because you had been snacking on chocolate all day. Killer was displeased that Kid let you eat that much. In Kid's defense, he couldn't say no to you. You looked so cute curled up snuggled in his sheets and he liked that you were dependent on him. During breaks between sketching, Kid would sit next to you and rub your back or offer to get you something. Even Wire dropped by to "see if Kid needed anything", but really he wanted to see how you were doing with his own eyes now that he heard you were bouncing back.

In the evening, Killer brought dinner to Kid's cabin for the three of you. Killer did the same thing as he had before after cutting everything up into bite-size pieces. He helped you with the first bites so that you knew where everything was in space. Then, you could do it without his aid. Killer had thought about bringing you soup in a mug so you didn't have to fiddle with utensils, but he knew you wouldn't like getting something different than everyone else because of your disabilities. Plus, it was better that you got some hearty food in you instead of broth. By tomorrow, you could probably use your devil fruit to heal yourself if you had enough energy. 

After dinner, you asked if you could shower. You hadn't done anything to get dirty between the last one and now, but you thought the warm, moist heat would feel good. Your body and Mother Nature were still fighting you, but they had settled down to a tolerable level. Killer would not allow a shower, and certainly not an unsupervised one. They were being extreme in your opinion. It was sweet how much they cared though. And that was how you ended up in the bathtub with both Kid and Killer. The bath was safer since you had to sit, and both of them had to clean off, so it made sense to join you. When you were done cleaning yourself, you sat in front of Killer so he could braid your hair again. You liked how it stayed out of your face and you knew that Killer was a little bit of a perfectionist, so they definitely looked good. 

"So does this mean ya can get pregnant now?"

"Kid!" Killer scolded him. 

"What?! I'm jus curious." 

"My eyes would be rolling, if I had any. Just so you know." You sighed. "Yeah I guess so."

Kid made a noise of understanding. 

"What? Nothing else?"

Killer pulled you into his lap when he was finished braiding your hair. "We'll be more careful in the future. That's all."

"Actually..." You paused, unsure how to proceed. "I was going to use my devil fruit to reverse the healing I did. I don't want to deal with this every month and I'm sure you don't either. And the chance of having a baby..." You shook your head. There was a silence that you didn't know how to interpret without being able to see either of their faces. It was making you nervous. "Is that... okay? Or.... is that something you... might want?" You choked the words out, feeling awkward even saying them. Being a mother and having a family were never items on your radar. Yet, your thoughts on the matter might be swayed if that was something that either of them wanted. They had done a lot for you lately, more than you thought they ever would. 

"Doll, that's not for either of us ta decide." 

Killer wrapped his arms around you in agreement. 

"I can...always reverse that, too. If you change your mind." You shrugged.

"Stop yer worryin about what we want." Kid flicked water at you. 

"Do what you want," Killer added.  

The next day was pretty much the same. You felt like shit when you woke up, but as the day went on, you gradually felt better. And at the end of the day, you were able to fully heal the rest of your chest. You didn't know what would happen if you reverted your uterus to its scarred state before you were done with your period, so you left it alone for the time being. The entire day Kid and Killer periodically switched off checking on you, offering cuddles, idle chat, food, whatever you wanted. It was unlike anything you had experienced before and something you definitely hadn't expected from them, more so Kid. He really did have a soft side, if you were lucky enough to see it. 

That night you were sandwiched between the two of them, as you were most nights. You liked to tuck yourself under Kid's stump and lay on his chest while Killer spooned you. That was exactly how you were positioned now. The pillowy-ness of Kid's chest rivaled your own. Killer refused to answer whose chest he preferred to lay on because he knew whatever he said would start a fight. Killer's hand was draped over you, rubbing your lower stomach, which still had echoing cramps. Kid ran his hand over your braid and gave it a playful tug. 

"I like these." 

"Mhm," you replied sleepily. 

"I'm pretty close to figurin out how to replace yer eye." 

"Are you?"

"Ya might ferget how handsome I am if I don't finish it soon." 

Kid was only joking. How could he know that was a very real fear you had been struggling with? Tears formed at the corners of where your eyelids met and dripped down your face onto Kid. You tried to sniff them back before he could see, yet it only made you cry harder. 

"Hah!? What'd I say?! What's wrong?"

"What if I do forget?" You sniffed. "W-when he took my eye... he said he's the last thing I'll ever remember. And I don't want him to be right." 

"He won't be. Don't think that for a second." Kid's anger flared. The only thing stopping him from going to the brig and beating that man to death was the fact that you would be mad that you didn't get to do it yourself. 

"We're not going to let that happen," Killer spoke from behind you. Killer felt guilt prick at his mind. Maybe he should have told you about your eye. He felt like he was doing the right thing. Now, he wasn't so sure. 

Kid brushed the tears from your face. "Don't do that. Yer so ugly when ya cry." Kid said it on purpose. He knew it would make you laugh to say something mean instead of what a normal person might say. It was part of his charm.

"Kid!" Killer protested.

You started to half-laugh half-cry. Kid was so stupid. But it was comforting in a way that only you would understand. How did you deserve to have not one, but two people that cared for you so deeply? They had helped you so much over the past few days, not to mention the effort they put in to rescue you.  Somehow, the past two days meant more to you. Any captain worth anything would rescue one of his crew. Only a captain that loved you would run and jump to hug you when he saw that you were awake, or bring you his own officer as a personal heating pad. And Killer, how two days in a row he brought you coffee and described the sunrise for you, so you could still participate in your special routine, one that you thought would be over forever. You started crying again. 

"What now!? I didn't say anything!"

"No one.. has ever been... this kind to me." You said between sobs. 

"Ya don't have to be a crybaby about it." 

"You can be a crybaby with me," Killer rolled on his back and patted his chest.

You started to roll to lay on him instead, but Kid trapped you against him.

"No, no. Stay. I like yer ugly crybaby face." 

Killer returned to his place spooning you and kissed behind your ear. "That's what people do when they love you." 

"Get used to it, princess. Can't have ya bawling yer eyes out every time we do somethin nice."

NEXT

Tag List: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin

[jaxie101]

fnaf movie hcs part 3 bc im insane

mike HATES fish. like i’m talking a rage filled hatred he’d rather die than eat that shit

abby regularly goes to school in pjs bc mike will come home from his night shift and take her straight to school

vanessa was jealous of mike as he talked about how perfect his family used to be, the guilt she felt for his brother evaportes for a split second because she thinks he was at least privileged. and then she actually founds out more about his childhood and she’s like oh…

mike once got sick while working, but being the only adult with no other income he kept working, wearing himself down more and more until his body gave in. abby found him delirious with a fever in his bed and didn’t have anyone to call. she didn’t want to phone their aunt bc she’d take her away, she tried to call their dad but he never picked up. (this was before they met vanessa) and ended up just copying what she’d seen on tv shows until mike was aware of enough to try and take care of himself (she cried against of him for hours bc she thought he was going to die)

mike’s love language is acts of service/gift giving

^^ for vanessa’s bday he gets abby as a secret spy to ask her questions until he has a good idea of what to buy her (he works overtime ofc) he even buys little face masks and nail polishes so his girls can have a spa night while he’s working and vanessa cries in the bathroom bc it’s the first time she’s felt loved

mike and vanessa essentially project their lack of a childhood onto abby, they plan big parties for her bday, vanessa buys them a big tree for xmas, they take her to amusement parks and festivals. they don’t realise the other is thinking the same as them

mike hasn’t had a birthday since his brother went missing (i hc he went missing on mikes bday but wtv) he always makes sure to work a double shift when it comes to his bday so abby forgets and his parents just pretended he didn’t exist. …and then vanessa comes along and plans a big day for him

mike once broke his arm when he was 16 and didn’t tell anyone, he waited a few days until he went to the school nurse. he used it as a way to punish himself for garret, and he knew his parents wouldn’t care anyway (they couldn’t afford the medical bills and it made his home life so so much worse)

abby stays awake some nights and wonders if mike would trade her for garret, she wonders who he loves more, who he’s more willing to keep

vanessa calls him mikey to piss him off

abby and mike are those people that get hyperfixated on a food for weeks and then just… never eat it again. whenever venessa does the groceries she buys ten boxes of pizza pockets for mike and two trays of strawberries for abby and now neither of them have eaten them in weeks (she’s going insane)

mike falls into depressive episodes and just can’t pull himself out, he tries to cover them up for abby but she knows, bc she always knows

vanessa and mike trauma bond in the kitchen at night about their childhoods (mike desperately wants to know what happened to his little brother and vanessa refuses to share the details)

vanessa’s only toys when she was little was from her father’s victims, after garret went missing his parents never bought him anything again. abby gets a new toy for doing well in school, she gets whatever she wants when they’re proud of her, when they can afford it, when she’s just being cute idk

vanessa hates grapes

mike used to stay awake every night and wait for his brother to come home, that’s where his insomnia originated from

extreme survivors guilt

mike is a picky eater, he hates certain textures of food and just rotates between safe foods ever day (one day vanessa cooks them spag bolognese and mike just sits and picks at bc he can’t stand the textures but he feels bad :( )

[bitchesmoonwalkin]

this is part two of a shadow over lirim: the first day

warnings: implied future non-con - otherwise we're all good for now

read:

“-hear me? Are you okay?”

Finn woke up with a pounding headache, the events of the last few hours rushing through his head, and someone shaking his shoulder, trying to get him up.

With a groan, he pushed himself upright, sitting against the headboard of the largest and most comfortable bed he had ever been in. Across from him, another human boy, seemingly about his age, sat back on his heels from where he had been leaning over Finn.

They stared at each other for a solid ten seconds before the other boy broke the silence.

“Are you okay? I mean, besides the whole, you know, kidnapped by Alphas thing we’ve both got going on.”

Finn sighed, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes against his headache “Yeah, I’m alright. Fucking cloroformed me or some shit, though. I’m Finn, by the way.” No response. Finn cracked open an eye. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

The boy bit his lip, considering his answer. He was pretty; clearly shorter than Finn and with a slight build and fluffy, curly brown hair and doe-like eyes. Had they met under normal circumstances Finn would probably have hit on him by this point in the conversation.

“I’m Alfie, I’ve only been awake maybe ten minutes? Twenty? Already tried the door, though. Locked. And yeah, I’m fine, all things considered. We can’t have been taken more than a few hours ago; I’m wearing the same clothes and I’m not thirsty yet, or anything.”

Silence fell, more comfortable this time, before Finn spoke some minutes later.

“How’d he get you?”

“He came to my house. Hurt my family. I don’t-whoever took us isn’t afraid of the law.”

And, well. Shit. Finn wasn’t sure how long they sat there after that - minutes? hours? - both boys trying not to think about the uncertain future ahead of them, before footsteps sounded from outside the door.

The two of them scrambled off the bed, Finn bracing himself against the wall behind him while Alfie held his ground not two steps in front of him.

The door unlocked, swung open. The boys froze as a Beta walked in, palms up in a placating gesture.

“Easy, kids. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t have much time, your Alphas wanted to be the first people you saw when you woke up and if they find out I was here we’re all fucked. I’m Brín, I’m only 27 so Eric took me by accident a few months ago thinking I was an omega; I’ve worked for them ever since. I’ll help you both however I can, okay? They’re so high up in Alpha society that they have to follow tradition and won’t bond you until the end of the first week - if you don’t get out before then, you’ll have to try and head for Ireland or Spain since they’ll still let bonded omegas cross the boarder without their Alpha.”

“Bonded?” Alfie’s voice was incredulous.

“They’ll-like a vampire, essentially. They bite you and from then on you’re considered their legal property until you turn 25, at which point you’re considered an equal-status Alpha instead of a beta.”

“So the way they grow their population…it’s like vampires? We won’t be like, experimented on or anything?”

Brín hesitated slightly, and Finn felt like the ground fell out from beneath him. “Nothing like that, but…Eric and Darius aren’t exactly model citizens and it’s not exactly uncommon for omegas to be…used…by their Alpha. I’m sorry, boys, I really am.”

The door shut behind Brín with a horrible sense of finality and Finn fell to his knees and screamed, both hands over his mouth to muffle the sound as best he could. Bile rose up the back of his throat. He couldn’t get Brín’s voice out of his head, the word echoing over and over.

Used.

Alfie was sat with his knees to his chest, back against the side of the bed. “Finn?” Alfie’s voice was small. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

And for once, Finn didn’t either.

[samskaterguy]

I love Ever After High more than I could probably ever say, but I’ll try in honor of its 10th anniversary. 

I discovered Ever After High when I was maybe 7 or 8 years old, so I was very young, and I LOVED Disney Princess movies (kind of ironic given the history, huh?) and so I discovered the Brothers Grimm fairytales, and I adored those too. I find a series from a YouTuber I don’t remember the name of (7 Super girls? Or something?) And I think the video was “What’s your favorite show?” And the girl in the video explains what Ever After High is and that sounds AWESOME to a little kid like me. It was a high school for the children of the Brothers Grimm characters?????? AMAZING! Obviously not much was aid about the more,,grizzly details of the stories as this was a child’s doll line as well.

I started watching, and I instantly fell in love with Raven Queen when I saw what her whole deal was, also I really liked her style, as I was a little emo kid, and Raven striving to be herself in a world that didn’t accept that, that she had to just follow the rules that actively worked against her. That struck a little cord with me, and I wouldn’t realize it until many years later, but, spoiler! I’m trans. Raven is a character that, in general, means so much to me. I full person and soul mean this when I say she is my favorite fictional character of all time. Raven Queen meant so much to me, and others as well. 

Ashlynn and Hunter because I ate, slept and BREATHED True Hearts Day as a kid, to see these two people that loved each other, so deeply and true that they were willing to sacrifice their stories for one another despite the danger. Society told the two of them their love was wrong, Ashlynn’s best friend even told her she thought it was wrong, and that crushed Ashlynn. She even broke up with Hunter over her fears about their stories, but also so everyone would just. Stop. The whole reason they even told ANYONE was because Duchess had threatened to essentially out them when they weren’t ready. 

Then, after all of that pain, and trail and tribulation they got up, well Ashlynn did, she got up and she told the whole world that she loves Hunter, and doesn’t care what anyone, or their destines have to think. If she can’t love Hunter and be a royal? Then call her Ashlynn Ella the rebel! 

Then as the years went on, I got older, and Dragon Games aired. I saw Darling Charming, a character I didn’t really care about too much until I got older, and I saw her give “CPR” to Apple White, a character I hated, and ALSO grew to love as I got older. 

My personal feelings to these character didn’t matter, though. I saw these girls KISS on screen. I saw two same gender people give TRUE. LOVES. KISS. to one another for the first time ever. It wasn’t just an m/f couple with some VERY gay subtext. Seeing that kiss was more magical than anything in the show. That one moment between two characters that I grew up watching, as if to say it was okay..I won’t lie when I tell you I maybe cried that night after I finished watching it. It made me feel so happy, so seen. Safe. 

As I got older, I saw these characters in different lights, and I saw more depth to them than I ever did before. Characters I hated as a kid suddenly made more sense, this horrible system of destiny looked so much more daunting and scary than it ever did before. I hated Apple as a kid, and that’s an understatement. Sorry Apple fans, I love her now, and that’s because as I aged I saw more depth in her than I did when I was younger. 

Apple was also a victim of destiny, just in a different way than say Raven, or Briar. She had such high expectations put on her from her mother, her father, the WHOLE SOCIETY THEY ARE STRUCTURED AROUND. Apple also faced a traumatic experience as a kid that also just reinforced this line of thinking. She had her entire life planned, if she liked that or not, and she couldn’t escape it. Apple was faced with harsh reality so suddenly at what was supposed to be the biggest, most important day of her entire life. All of that particular planning to be the perfect princess, her entire life’s purpose for as far as she knew, was over. Torn away in an instant with the rip of a page. It would make sense that Apple would take so long to come around to the idea of choosing your own destiny, or that CHOOSING can also mean living your destined story, but maybe with some tweaks. 

Apple’s whole arc in Dragon Games and Way Too Wonderland is just so good. I love her so much.

ALSO Raven never even wanted to start a whole movement or anything, she just wanted to not be like her mother, she just didn’t want to be evil. She was just 15, like literally everyone else in the show. All she wanted was to exist as herself, and it was a battle to get close to that goal.

I realized as I aged, and in general became a tad more jaded towards the world that oppressive systems don’t really help anyone. A lot of kids at Ever After High, royal or rebel, is screwed over with the destiny system in some way. It made me think about our own society in ways I haven’t before, but that’s a talk for another day.

Also, as a kid I only had access to YouTube and maybe Netflix, so I didn’t read any of the books until literally about two years ago when I could get my hands on them, so I literally just have NEW information to sift through, and grow with a world that I’ve had for so long with me already.

I think there’s so much more i can say about family issues, and family non-issues, and about culture, or the way there are rebels who want their destiny, but still side with the rebels because they think everyone should have a free choice, or how Cedar and Cerise feel just a tad trans to me, or THE WONDERLANDIANS AND RED AND BADWOLF, but that’s more general fandom posting or a bit too personal, so I’ll just leave it here.

In conclusion, Ever After High, it’s been a beautiful, spellbinding 10 years and I’m so thankful for the fans, the people that made the series/dolls/books/etc, and that I wish all of these characters, and people a Happily Ever After in their own ways.

[guarddogdyke]

alright, i need to scream for a minute. this is like 25% a mutual aid post and 75% i am going through it and need to vent my ungodly rage at corporate bureaucracy

so, for context, i have two supervisors, i’ll call them supervisor a and supervisor m. supervisor m is a delight to work with, she was able to help me get a good placement, albeit not one with an incredible pay rate, she always picks up calls, and is just generally polite to work with. supervisor a, on the other hand, complete opposite. just a massive pain in the ass. completely and totally insufferable. always sounds like he’s mad that i, a lowly employee, have the audacity to ask him for something like a site placement or, god forbid, the money i’m owed. the only “placement” he gave me was the one that decided that they didn’t fucking want me literally the day of training, and in order to contact him, i had to call several times a day for a week and a half just to get him to pick up. the one time he did actually pick up, he was on the road and told me he’d call me back in half an hour. didn’t hear from him for over a week.

during the failed placement supervisor a gave me, the site manager promised me wages for the time i had spent on site. that was a few weeks ago, and i still haven’t seen a cent of it. i talked to supervisor m about it, but unfortunately, supervisor m doesn’t have any sway over payroll. that’s entire supervisor a’s department. try to contact him repeatedly, doesn’t even pick up. i was on a call with supervisor m a few days ago, and along with some other questions, i asked her if she could tell supervisor a to please give me a call, which she says okay to. several days go by, and i get a call from him yesterday afternoon. i think, hey, he’s finally calling me to help resolve that payroll issue!

nope. he’s calling me to tell me that, due to having been inactive for over a month (i was out of state for a few months bc i was home from university, and unlike the state my university’s in, my home state requires a license to operate), my previous manager had put a temporary termination on me as an employee; basically, though i wasn’t fired, i was technically no longer an employee. what this means is that i need updated fingerprinting and background check paperwork. essentially, even though i had my first weekend last weekend, i can’t work this weekend, or until he’s able to actually get that in order, and, given how fucking great he is at being prompt, god only knows when that’s happening. i asked him to send me the info for the location, still hasn’t done that so i get to hound him again today. cool.

while i’m on the call, i bring up the payroll discrepancy. he fucking plays dumb with me, acts confused as to what i’m talking about. i tell him that the site manager at the location he’d sent me to had promised me wages for the five and a half hours i’d been there for training. i had to remind him in no uncertain terms that yes, i had been on site working for several hours, which i hadn’t seen a cent of payment for. here i am, a broke college student, arguing for my pay with a supervisor of a several billion dollar multi-national. it’s not even a hundred dollars i’m trying to get here, pennies in his book, but for me, it’s half a monthly car payment. it’s food. it’s what i need to fucking scrape by. eventually after several minutes, he just says he’ll get me the pay for it, and then hangs up.

i had to fight for several WEEKS to get a payment of less than $100.

i’m so fucking tired.

sorry for the long post. i’d love to go back to posting fun horny shit once i’m a little less keyed up.

as always, vnmo is $unfoundobjects, and anything helps. if you’ve read this far, thank you for putting up with my rant.

[harlequin-hangout]

For a Mortal Chapter 1

Series Master List | Loki Master List

Part 2 >

Pairing: Dom!Loki x f!Reader

Warnings: Self esteem problems, self deprecation, ⚠️abuse (past, not from Loki)⚠️, minor breaking and entering

Contains: Maybe angst, definitely a little fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This was inspired by this ask by @michelleleewise​. This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so please be kind. I’m hoping to get better, though inspiration doesn’t strike as often as I’d like. I may turn this into an ongoing series, I haven’t completely decided yet. I hope you all like it!!

“FUCK!!”

Your phone hits the bed and bounces to the floor. You threw it harder than you meant to. Sighing through your gritted teeth, you pick up the device. At least the screen wasn’t cracked, but your case had definitely busted when it hit the ground. You had just hung up a call with your boss. The company wasn’t bringing in cash flow, which meant for the second month in a row, you weren’t going to get paid. At least he had told you that you didn’t need to come into the office until there was money again. You take a deep breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as if the pressure could stop the stress and the headache it was about to bring on. 

“God, I don’t want to know how much I’m short,” you think to yourself as you pull the busted case off of your phone and open your banking app. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize your account is overdrawn by $56.41. Well . . . Ramen again tonight. It isn’t the healthiest, but anything is better than being hungry.

It’s been two weeks since your last conversation with anyone in the small startup company you work for. You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, trying to find freelance work while donating plasma just to make sure you can eat has taken its toll on you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. The caller ID reads “Darren Albright”. Dammit. It’s your boss.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you answer, trying to not let your exhaustion show through in your voice.

“Hey, Y/N, we need to talk. You’ve barely done any work since the last time you were in the office. I feel like I’m just a paycheck to you, and I’m not okay with that. We talked when you came on board, I have decades of experience in production, but this company is still essentially a start-up and Rob and I both work for free, and it’s insulting that you don’t even try to come in to help out. I always go out of my way to help out friends, and I just thought you’d do the same. I’ve offered you gas money to come out here if you need it, we’re all in the same boat here. I’m broke too. I haven’t paid my mortgage for this month, so don’t tell me it isn’t possible.”

You don’t really process the rest of what Darren says as you stare at the wall in disbelief. 

Not working . . . ? You’ve been working for free for over two months. The only difference is you’ve been working from home instead of from the office. You can’t help it if you live an hour away. Hell, it isn’t the same boat. Darren lives in the office, owns the company, and when you were in the office, you mostly saw him playing around on an art app while you worked. You knew you were signing on to a startup, but you’d been reassured that you’d be paid at least something. You mumbled apologies that you don’t really mean as you hang up the phone. First it was his now ex-girlfriend, Crystal, doxxing you online after harassing you for days on end because she somehow got it in her head that you and Darren were sleeping together. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sure, Darren was tall, but he wasn’t your type at all. The bushy beard just didn’t do it for you. Your type was a bit more . . . sleek. Sleek, dark, put together . . . You sigh as you try to fight back your tears. 

What the hell were you doing? Was this even worth it? You’d worked so hard to break into the world of production. You worked with all three of Darren’s companies, and had built the backend for two of them. You spent every day maintaining those backends, running admin, and doing literally anything he called and asked you for, including finding and making proposals for marketing clients, something you’d had to teach yourself just to be able to do the job. You lost your fight as tears start to run down your face. How could he say those things? You’d worked yourself mostly to death trying to make the situation work, and he thinks you’ve done nothing because you aren’t being paid? You choke back a sob, leave your apartment unlocked,  and just run. You run towards the woods and don’t look back. Branches whip at your skin as you break off the narrow walking path, just wanting to be as far away from everything that’s been causing you to nearly break. Finally, coming to a clearing, you drop to your knees and wail at the top of your lungs. Sobs wrack your form as you let out all the emotion that’s been building over the last months. You don’t like being vulnerable around others, so this is the only safe place you know where you can let everything out.

“Why?? Why am I fucking killing myself for someone who obviously doesn’t give a fuck about me?? Why . . . why am I here? Why am I trying so hard? . . . Why did I think I could do this?” You choke, your self doubt taking control. In all honesty, you couldn’t answer those questions. You’d long since seen a point in continuing to follow your dream career, maybe it was just better to get a regular job. You knew you’d hate it, but at least you knew your bills would be paid.

As your sobs quieted, you wiped your tears on your sleeves and slowly made your way back to your apartment. Nightfall had long since passed. When did it get dark? It didn’t really matter, as the numb feeling across your whole body makes it hard to care about much of anything. Locking your front door, you pull off your now dirt-stained clothes and take a deep breath. You didn’t really remember getting back to the apartment, or much since you left. You just wanted this to be over. For the stress to be gone. And more than anything, for support. You look upwards, and for the first time in years, you pray.

“Please, whoever’s listening, I don’t care. Please. PLEASE give me some encouragement. I can’t keep doing this, and I don’t even know if my dreams are worth it anymore. Please . . . Just send me a sign that I shouldn’t give up . . .” You fall ungracefully onto the bed, not bothering to put on the pajamas that lay on your floor. As you fall into a deep sleep, you fail to hear the soft, almost magical hum that floats through the air and miss the soft touch that brushes your temples. A tall figure kneels next to your bed as you start to toss and turn as your mind turns to nightmares.”

You bold upwards in bed, cold sweat drenching your body. You could have sworn that you felt someone’s presence. . . You rub your bleary, sleep-filled eyes as you look at your phone. 3:47am . . . what the hell were you doing awake? You know one thing, though, once you’re up, you need to get something to drink before you can sleep again. You padded towards your kitchen, but an unfamiliar scent stops you dead in your tracks. What was that . . . Fir trees, sandalwood and . . . leather? You cautiously take the last couple steps and peek around the corner. An unlit candle that had definitely NOT been bought by you sat on your counter on top of an emerald green envelope with “Dear Y/N” scrawled on it in an elegant cursive hand. Turning it over in your hand, you break the gold colored wax seal that depicts two snakes intertwined. Where have you seen that before?

Dear Y/N,

I am sorry to hear that you are not receiving the support or recognition that you deserve. I have learned in my long life that sometimes the only ones we can rely on is ourselves, and if these people do not support you, they are not worthy of your greatness. My Dear, your dream, your passion is always worth your efforts. Do it for you, because it is what you desire and you will succeed, I have no doubt. You are a strong, independent, intelligent person . . . for a mortal. Never doubt yourself, My Dear. Should you ever find yourself in need of one who can see your worth, then just light this candle. I wish you all the best in your pursuits and remember . . . You can do whatever you set your mind to. Until we meet . . .

Loki

The name was elegantly scrolled, even if the word choice was a bit odd. The entire letter . . . Loki. Who was he? How did this get in your kitchen? Your windows had been painted shut by the complex, and you were relatively sure you had locked the door behind you when you came back inside . . . Not that it mattered. The numb feeling didn’t seem to want to leave. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your own personal safety. Maybe a shower would help you relax enough to sleep. After the letter, you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl back into bed. Still . . . You eye the candle, your hands mindlessly tracing the paper in your hands. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have someone . . . I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? My bathroom doesn’t have any windows. There’s no way anyone could see it,”  you think to yourself as you grab the candle and head towards the bathroom.

The steam feels amazing on your skin already as you get the water near scalding in preparation for your shower. If you’re going to do this at 4am, you might as well do it right. You place your towels and bathrobe on the hook on the back of the bathroom door and glance at the candle. You still hadn’t really decided whether or not to light it. It was a deep green and scented like the forest that you ran into to escape the reality of life. That still didn’t account for the leather and sandalwood you’d smelled, though. Fuck it, at least if some random snuck into your bathroom, there was about a 50/50 chance that he’d just put you out of your misery. You flick your lighter and the familiar scent of pine fills the room. You sigh and step into the steam-filled stall, running your fingers through your hair.

“I really wish you wouldn’t think such things about yourself, Darling.”

You freeze as the deep voice fills the room. He spoke softly, almost as if he were your friend. You whip your head around to see a man in a black suit sitting on your toilet, directly across from the entrance to the shower. You almost want to scream but . . . 

“I . . . Do I know you? I mean I know I’ve never met you, but I feel like . . . I mean . . .” You fumble your words. The man’s sudden appearance should have been the thing to catch you off guard, but it was . . . Him. His features were somehow soft, yet stern at the same time. The green of his eyes almost perfectly matched the candle and stationary. His jawline was regal, just like his posture. The suit was well fitted, and you could vaguely make out the tone of his arms. Not to mention, those LEGS. The look of gentle worry that graced his features . . . for some reason, it put you at ease. 

Wait. The eyes. Could this be . . . “Loki?” Your voice is almost a whisper as you stand in the water’s heat, hands tucked gently against your chest. The man gave a soft smile, and what seemed like . . . Relief?

“Yes, My Dear. It’s me. I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me. I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised.” His voice was comforting, yet his tone was that of someone who was undoubtedly in charge. “I must apologize for the sudden entrance, I didn’t expect you to light that thing so soon.” You eyed the man, with both curiosity and apprehension. When you did not speak, he continued. “You are such a clever mortal, though I would guess that your waking memory doesn’t know much of your dreams.”

“N-no, I really don’t remember when I dream, but what does that have to do with anything? Why do you keep calling me ‘Mortal’? It’s almost as if you’re implying that you aren’t.” Loki smirks, one eyebrow raised.

“Little mortal, I am a God. You prayed, and I answered. Isn’t that what you wanted? ‘Whoever’s listening’, I believe, were your exact words?” You stand there, dumbfounded. “I have seen your nightmares and I must say, you are definitely a capable mortal. So determined. You have so much life in you, why would you give it up now?”

“I . . . I mean, if Darren doesn't see all the work I do, if he doesn’t think I’m valuable, then why should I try?”

“Then tell me, why does Mr. Albright deserve your efforts and your loyalty? What has he done? I see a large potential in you, My Dear, and I would like to offer you something. However, first I must confirm my suspicions. If I may?” Loki motions at your temples. After only a couple seconds of hesitation, you kneel in front of the God sitting in your bathroom. The pleased hum doesn’t escape your notice and you smile just faintly enough that you hope he didn’t see. 

Your eyes flash the moment Loki’s cold fingers touch your temple, and suddenly you’re back in your abuser’s house. 

It was winter, and he was drunk. He had lost his phone cord and blamed you he’s screaming, the bourbon on his breath obvious. 

“You’re a shit girlfriend! You’re a shit girlfriend now, and you were a shit girlfriend when I met you, that’s why you were single. Go die!!” As he pushes past you, he punches a hole in the wall, mere inches from your head. You fight to keep your face still and unfeeling, hoping that he’ll go back to his office and leave you to lock yourself in the guest room. 

The scene shifts, and you find yourself in that same guest room. 

You’re bracing against the locked door with all your body weight. No matter how heavy you try to make yourself, you can feel the door start to budge. You make the split second decision to unlock it and let him in, as it will be much worse on you if he has to break in. You retreat into your mind and try to tune him out as he rants and screams about his right to grab your throat. You had fought him in his office when he had grabbed you and tried to sexually assault you. You got away, but at what cost?

Scene after scene flashes before your eyes, each more traumatizing than the last. Finally, Loki comes back into focus in front of you. You hastily grab the trash can beside the toilet and heave into it, bile being the only thing in your system to come up. You cough, and you feel a gentle hand rub your back as you fight to regain your composure.

“Little mortal . . . You’ve been through so much. You are so strong, and are worthy of someone who can see your value. Stand.” You push yourself up, leaning on Loki for support as you steady your face, willing it to neutrality. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Now darling, we’ve moved quite a ways past that. Shower.” You step into the stall, feeling the warmth wash over you. “May I?” The God reaches for the shampoo bottle on the floor of the shower, seemingly unbothered by his suit getting wet. You sit obediently near the shower’s door, and he sits behind you, gently massaging the product into your hair. He takes gentle care to not pull or scrub too hard. You rinse when he tells you to, and hand him the conditioner. As he works the second product into your hair, he sighs. “I did not realize the extent of your abuse. You did not deserve what that ant of a man did to you. Please, take your own wants and needs into consideration when you hear my offer.” 

You chew your lip, unsure of how to respond. Do you even remember how to do things for yourself? You could take care of your own necessities, but this is different. When was the last time you’d done something just because you’d wanted to?

“I . . . I don’t even know what I need, much less want. Not anymore.” Your eyes never leave the floor of the shower. Loki’s movements don’t falter as he carefully chooses his words.

“Darling, I have been inside your mind. I know your wants, your needs, your fears and desires, your passions and your sorrows. You want someone to dominate you, but not for the thrill or gratification. No, your desire is much less selfish than that. You desire trust. You want to trust someone enough that you feel confident handing over control. To trust that they have your best interests at heart, and will always act with your needs taken into account. Rinse.” You stand, silently mulling what he says over in your mind.

“And what if you’re wrong? What if I want to be the one with the reins?” He chuckles, a small smile playing his lips. 

“Then, Y/N, take those wants into account when you make your decision. However, I can guarantee I am not wrong. You would give up control so willingly if someone had your wellbeing in mind. Just like you did for me. With the shower.”

Goddammit. He was right. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing. Was he telling the truth? Could your outlook be so skewed that basic care and consideration is all you really want? 

“Well then, Darling, now it is time for your choice. Come with me. I’ve been watching your drive and your passion for some time, and you are worthy of my attention. Of my care. Come with me, and let me earn the trust that you so crave to share with another being. I promise, you’ll be safe with a God.” You blink in disbelief. Is he offering you a way out? A way to get away from Darren, from the bills, from not always knowing where your next meal was coming from? Was this truely a fresh start?

“And what if I’m not strong enough to build that trust? What if I’m too far gone?” Your voice is soft, uncertain. Loki gently cups your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.

“Darling, I know you can do it. You can come back from whatever dark place those undeserving insects have left you. You are so, very strong . . . For a Mortal.” You beam and take Loki’s hand. As his Seidr envelops you in a green glow, you think for the first time in forever that maybe, just possibly, everything might be alright.

[quotemenevervore]

And after that rewrite, I have another surprise:

Chapter 4

CW: discussion of fire/burning (nobody got hurt)

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

When he woke up in the morning, Sapnap wasn’t on the couch. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be, but after everything that happened the night prior, it just felt… weird. He was left to his own devices, for the first time since he’d been found yesterday. At least it gave him time to think over what had happened.

Sapnap almost burned him. He didn’t want to, he definitely regretted his actions. And.. it’s not like he can hold it against him, he of all people have known about his difficulty handling his fire abilities, especially with his emotions. And yesterday in itself had to have been a very emotional day.

But.. if he didn’t hold it against Sapnap, how could he hold his grudge against Karl?

“Quackity? I have breakfast, are you awake?” He frowned, his thoughts being cut off. On the one hand, he could hear the guilt in Sapnap’s voice. On the other, he was still stuck on whether he could forgive him or not… “Oh! You are- okay, I brought some breakfast for you.” He nodded, looking down. The fireborn looked like a kicked puppy, and until he knew for certain how he felt about the situation he was not going to let himself be persuaded in any way.

But other than the face, he did not make any kind of movement or say anything to try and guilt him, simply setting the plate for him down and sitting on the sofa with his own plate in his lap. Quackity did not eat for a moment, waiting for him to say something. But all the other did was start on his own breakfast, avoiding eye contact. Finally, he started to eat his own, trusting that he was allowed to eat in peace.

The door was knocked on, then a notification made Sapnap’s communicator buzz. “It’s Karl, he wants to know if he can come in.” He looked to the smaller for permission, only to find conflict on his face. “I.. think we kinda need to talk first.” The fireborn audibly gulped, typing a quick message back before shutting it off and setting it to the side. Setting his plate aside, he lowered himself down to be eye level with the borrower. “He’ll come back when I text him that he can come.” “What if you never text him?” He joked, trying to ease them into the rough conversation ahead of them. “He’ll forget he agreed to it.” Sapnap answered honestly.

“So.. just how bad is Karl?” “I feel like you’re deflecting.” He shrugged. “Well, if I’m staying here I kinda need to know what’s up with him.” “I mean, his memory was fine at first, just forgetting small things like the day or where he set stuff down, but then it just got worse. That was before we left El Rapids, and then when we moved it just kept going downhill. Forgetting dates, people.. he was pretty bad off when you came with me to Kinoko. I.. thought if he saw you, that maybe it would help. When you ran off, and I confronted him, he just… he broke down. He didn’t even make it until after you left before he already forgot, and from that point he’s just gotten worse and worse, he doesn’t remember to eat anymore.”

Something akin to guilt flooded his stomach, and he was glad he was already sitting. He hadn’t realized just how bad it had been, Karl definitely was not that bad off, or even had memory problems when they started El Rapids! What was causing it? ..No, he had to focus. There was a reason he asked, after all, and it only cemented his decision.

After all, he was on his final life and essentially dependent on the two at this size. He was done cutting his emotions down.

“Sapnap, you almost burned me yesterday. At this size, that could have killed me.” “I know. I’m so sorry, I can’t say that enough, is there-“ “But I also heard what you said yesterday. When you came back. And I’m just.. stuck. I mean, you can’t control the pyrokinesis. But Karl also can’t control memory loss. If I forgive you, then how can I hold a grudge against Karl? Cause you both hurt me, not physically but mentally, but you both couldn’t control anything that had happened with us.”

“Then don’t.” He spoke softly. “What?” Quackity was taken aback, not expecting that remark. “Don’t forgive me. If you think there’s a chance you can forgive Karl, after everything that happened, then you’re free to not forgive me until you can forgive him.” “But that doesn’t-“ “I’ll help you! I’ll remind Karl, well.. I’ve tried to. But I’ll remind him again, I’ll tell him everything from El Rapids onward again and again until it sticks. If that’s what it takes, and if you can forgive him, and me, well..” Sapnap trailed off with a sad chuckle. “Then we can finally have that wedding we kept pushing off.”

It sounded promising. But.. they’d promised him things before, and betrayed his trust. But seeing that hopeful look on his fiancé’s face, knowing that he’d follow through on his promise to remind Karl.. he sighed. “If.” “If.” “Now how the hell do you plan on starting this?” “Well, I can start by telling Karl to come back, but only if you’re alright with it.”

He made a playful annoyed noise, one that would have gone unheard if the fireborn didn’t have such good hearing. “He really wants to be your friend, at the very least.” “That’s square one, ain’t it?” At the soft scoff he got, he rolled his eyes. “Go ahead and invite him, but if he puts me in danger I want him to leave.” “Understood.”

Karl was at the door in no less than three minutes, practically bouncing in excitement when the door was opened. “I went and got some more fruit! I don’t know if the little guy ever ate the apple slices but-“ “He did, Karl, but maybe let’s tone it down a little? He’s still a little nervous.” “Of course!” His voice quieted instantly, and despite the fact that he could still feel the excitement that radiated from the other, he stopped bouncing as well. Sapnap opened the door all the way and stepped aside, Karl walking into the living room as calmly as he could manage.

“Good morning! I brought you some berries.” He kneeled beside the table, keeping a large distance between them and setting the pile of berries he brought on the surface. “They’re a little tart, which is funny considering their name, but I thought maybe you’d like to try them.” Quackity had to keep from rolling his eyes, reminding himself that Karl doesn’t know that he knows all of this stuff already. Stepping over to the berries, he picked one up before taking a bite out.

The brunette had told the truth; they were a little tart, the kind of tartness berries tended to have when picked before ripe. Though, he didn’t make a fuss; It was a nice break up between the apples that had been sweet yesterday, and the water. He offered the man a smile and a nod as thanks, warmth flooding his chest at the reaction he got. Karl’s eyes were practically glowing, mouth agape with the corners twitching upwards. Suddenly schooling his expression, he ended with a soft smile.

“Do you like them?” He nodded again, which made the larger’s smile widen. “I’m glad! I really want to find some more finger foods, I don’t know much about you but your outfit kinda tells me you don’t like getting messy..” His expression turned sheepish, and Quackity bit back a scoff. He didn’t like getting dirty, no, but he’s never been a stickler about it. Hell, most the time his shirts were stained with the blood of the person he was sure did this to him. Still, he let the man have his moment, unwilling to agitate him lest he suddenly ‘remembered’.

“Right! I just thought about that, hang on-“ He began to dig into his bag, and the avian could only imagine what he was about to pull out of it. The apprehension on Sapnap’s face didn’t do him any favors, either. Thankfully, all the man had pulled out were… what?

Karl had made clothes. Doll clothes, along with a pillow and blanket that looked to be made from the softest material he had on hand. Which.. was a mix of the spare fabric from Sapnap’s burnt shirts and Karl’s hoodie. Which definitely did not make him tear up, no way. And he definitely didn’t make grabby hands at the pillow, wanting to curl up with the scents that had comforted him over the last month. And he absolutely didn’t think about how Sapnap could actually be right, and they could all actually make up.

“Oh, are you tired? Here, I’ll put the blanket on your bed.” And Karl did, making sure his hands were in view the entire time, and moving slowly to not startle him. The borrower wouldn’t give up the pillow, but got up and walked over to the bed. He wasn’t tired, prime no. But he also wanted to see what the giants would do if they thought he was.

So he laid down, closed his eyes, and waited.

[marvelmaniac715]

Chucky characters finding out they’re fictional (guest starring me!):

————————————————————-

Chucky:

Chucky: Wait a minute, the franchise is about me, right? So that means, I’m virtually invincible. I can’t die cause then the franchise would be over. In that case… I have plot armour!

Author: I don’t think that’s how any of this works-

Chucky: You hear that? I’ve got fuckin’ plot armour! I’m gonna go play with some lions at the zoo, they can’t kill me, I’m gonna live forever!

Author: Chucky, this isn’t a movie or tv episode, I don’t think you should-

Chucky runs into the distance, whooping and hollering.

Author: This won’t end well.

————————————————————-

Andy:

Andy (crying): W-why? What kind of monster would choose this? I was a child.

Author: They couldn’t make an evil toy movie about some random adult guy, it just wouldn’t be right. Not that I have anything against adult toy collectors, but, y’know.

Andy: I exist for entertainment? And you watch it?

Author: Hey, don’t get mad at me, none of this is my fault. I mean, sure, watching the movies and show gives money to the studios who fund more Chucky projects based on the success, but I didn’t personally cause your trauma-

Andy: So who is to blame?

Author: Well, I can’t remember all the scriptwriters and directors off the top of my head, but I guess you could start with Don Mancini-

Andy runs into the distance.

Author: I should probably stop him. Oh well, he’ll come back soon. Probably…

————————————————————-

Tiffany:

Tiffany: This is crazy. So, Jennifer Tilly’s real and plays me, but I’m not. But I’m in her body, which makes me Jennifer Tilly. So technically, I’m real.

Author: I have no words. Just- no.

Tiffany: The logic’s there.

Author: You’re more flexible than I thought you were. You have to be, cause those are some insane mental gymnastics, girl.

Tiffany begins to laugh maniacally as Author watches with growing concern.

Author: She is not okay.

————————————————————-

Kyle:

Kyle: So basically, I’m a sequel final girl?

Author: I guess so.

Kyle: The writers love K names, don’t they? I mean, ‘Karen’ and ‘Kyle’? What’s the final girl in film three? ‘Katie’?

Author: Close, it’s Kristin. Wow, how have I never realised this before?

Kyle: I told you, it’s a trend! What about film four?

Author: Jade.

Kyle: Huh, maybe someone pointed out the similarities?

Author: But now that you mention it…

Kyle: Go on…

Author: Her last name is Kincaid… Oh my god.

Kyle: So what have we learned today? Sometimes writers pick a theme and stick to it. For example, Chucky writers and creators picked the K name theme for their final girls and stuck to it.

Author: Seed of Chucky technically doesn’t have a final girl. And the final girl in the series is called Lexi. Not to mention Nica Pierce, who is an icon.

Kyle: They finally broke the trend? So proud of them.

————————————————————-

Jake:

Jake: The only reason I exist is to act as  a foil to a murderous doll. As if I didn’t have enough issues already…

Author: Jake, are you okay?

Jake: Would you be okay if you were only brought into existence in order to suffer?

Author: I mean… I guess not.

————————————————————-

Glen and Glenda (GG doesn’t exist in this magical fourth-wall breaking universe):

Glenda: And people like you choose to watch this? There are some messed up people in the world, who hurt you guys?

Author: At first I watched for the novelty, but your father has a surprisingly magnetic personality for a psychopathic killer doll.

Glen: This does explain everything that we’ve ever wondered about ourselves. But why bring a talented actor into the franchise to essentially create us only to kill them off and combine our two souls into a doll.

Author: Two words. Billy Boyd. The man’s a legend. Sorry about the whole GG situation, but you’ve gotta admit, Billy has a nice voice.

Glen and Glenda look at each other and nod, unable to deny it.

————————————————————

Andy:

Author has tracked Andy down to his apartment, they are tired and panic stricken. Andy has a gun.

Author: Andy… put the gun down.

Andy: No, you can’t stop me from killing Don Mancini. I’m gonna do it!

Author: But if he dies you may die as well! 

Andy: Trust me, death is welcome after the shit I’ve been through!

Author: Andy, no. Do you need to talk to a licensed professional?

Andy: Desperately.

————————————————————-

Chucky:

Chucky: And my franchise makes how much money?

Author gives the estimated figure but is too lazy to actually google the number so *insert number here*.

Chucky: Okay, where do I sign up to get my cut of the profit? They’d be nothing without me, I deserve the cash.

————————————————————-

Nica:

Nica: So my actor is the daughter of Chucky’s voice actor? Are the creators implying that I’m Chucky’s kid?

Author: Nica, nobody knows. I mean, there’s been some hints, and I wrote a couple of fanfics/theories about it on Tumblr (check my profile if you’re new) but it’s all speculation.

Nica: But it’s a possibility?

Author: …Maybe?

Nica: My life sucks.

Author: We all know, you don’t have to tell us.

————————————————————-

Tiffany:

Tiffany is still cackling. Author decides to stand up and gently usher Glen and Glenda (who’ve been there the whole time) out of the room.

Author: C’mon kids. She’s- she’s too far gone…

————————————————————-

Parting words:

Author: I’ve gathered all of you here in the same room (probably a bad idea) to ask if you have any parting words for your fans.

Andy: The other survivors and I have coordinated this response.

Andy, Kyle, Nica, Glen, Glenda and Jake: Why do you like watching us suffer?

Author: I’m just gonna jump in and answer for the fandom here. Nobody enjoys it exactly, but the movies and tv show would be super boring if it was just Chucky stabbing at the air or something. Horror movies need victims otherwise it’s just some guy in a disguise of some sort cackling manically and attacking thin air with a variety of weapons. Let’s move on to the people that I’m low-key terrified of sitting so close to. Chucky, Tiffany, any parting words for your fans?

Tiffany: Thank you all for being so sweet, from the google searches I did a couple minutes ago, I gathered that a lot of people like me, and I’m touched that I’m still considered hot.

Author: Tiffany, you could never not be good looking, you’re my favourite character, I love you, platonically obviously, but you’re a literal icon, and I need you to know that.

Tiffany: Duly noted.

Chucky: Hey, we’re all here cause of me, don’t I get to say anything?

Author: Of course Chucky, what’s on your mind?

Chucky: Okay, first thing’s first, I found the Kill Count and I’m obsessed. Secondly, I hate most people, but I guess my fans aren’t the worst people in the world. You’re still not safe though…

Author (becoming anxious and suddenly realising that they’re sitting right next to Chucky with an exposed neck and they’re in strangling range): That’s about all we have time for, join us next time for a Q and A session with the characters! That’s enough now Chucky, please stop looking at me like that… Wait- ARGGH!-

Author is strangled offscreen, but due to the magic of plot armour, will miraculously be alive for the next fic.

[micamicster]

While you were sleeping au! You mentioned the subway and I think? The F line, a while ago. I’m curious which subway stops are the most important to the story. Also which NYC neighborhooods do you think matches the vibes of the various mdzs characters in this au/in general. Also if there’s anything you want to share I’d love to read it!

Hi honey thank you for asking! Yes we did decide on the F line, good memory haha

I've put a lot of thought into the route and setting of this story. I needed the setting to do a lot in terms of character (wealth, community, cultural background) and in terms of plot (need both my main characters to regularly take the same train a long distance), but luckily I think that neighborhoods and subways are equipped to do all of that!

I settled on both Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng regularly commuting in from Queens, but for different reasons. JC is coming from queens because his family has owned a large townhouse there for multiple generations, while Wen Qing, a more recent and more broke arrival to the city, lives out there because the rent is cheaper. Queens has its own massive chinatown, but it's more recent (comprised of a a newer wave of mandarin-speaking immigrants entering an older hokken-speaking population) compared to the historic Manhattan Chinatown (hundreds of years old, overwhelmingly cantonese-speaking). I have placed a lot of my action in the Manhattan chinatown, partly because it's historic and partly because it's most familiar to me. Both JC and WQ commute to the East Broadway stop on the F line, WQ to go to work at a nearby hospital and JC to go to his job (the Jiang family own a restaurant).

Here is an excerpt of a scene from the subway! thank you for being interested <3 <3 <3

The train shudders to a stop and they part to let people stand and push past them. He nods at the seat that’s appeared between them. “You should take it.”

“It’s fine.”

“Please. I know you’re about to be on your feet all day. Just take it, before some ass with no appreciation for essential workers steals it from you.”

“I can’t. I’m afraid if I sit I won’t get up again.” It’s the truth, but she didn’t mean to say it. There’s no reason to worry him about her. She’s stood on the train a thousand times, she can stand one more.

“I’ll get you up if you need it. Promise.” He nudges her forward gently. It’s just the drag of his knuckles against the small of her back, but she sways into the touch before she can stop herself. Hastily Wen Qing overcorrects the other way, and drops into the seat as quickly as she can.

At the next stop even more people crowd on, pushing him forward. He scowls and braces himself with one hand on the bar above them, back stiff and unyielding. She recognizes the stance from years of navigating the subway at rush hour—don’t take up more space than is your due, but don’t give an inch or the crowd will take a mile.

The train takes off with the familiar rocking of the crowd, as people lurch forward and back, renegotiating space and balancing against each other. It sends him stumbling right up against the seats, his leg knocking into hers for a moment before he catches himself.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He looks at her carefully, like he’s searching for any sign she didn’t mean it. He steps closer, letting the people behind him expand into the extra space in the way that crowds are always so liquid. She shifts to let him even closer, his leg settling between hers, his knee braced against the hard plastic edge of the seat. Whenever either of them shift it sends the expensive wool of his suit dragging across the machine-starched stiffness of her fresh scrubs.

She’s in a strange sort of sleep daze, like maybe she hasn’t really woken up at all yet. Soon she’ll open her eyes to her cold bed, her dark room, her relentless alarms. But for now she’s warm. She’s still too tired and the train is too crowded, but sitting down she exists in a little bubble, with Jiang Cheng’s broad back curved over her and his arm above them.

[lint-beetle4]

Act 5 + Side Note: Class Myths

There’s a lot of symbolism within the Homestuck classpect system, however this also comes with its fair share of stereotypes within it. As such, I am here to provide my own opinion on such ideas that have formed in the community when I last saw it.

Note:

I couldn’t think of anything for aspects as they tend to be tied to their symbolism rather than tropes a person would follow. I will gladly try to explain my own views on aspects however, should I be asked.

Knowing:

The Visionary classes are often seen as all-knowing and wise characters, and while part of this is true, they can be idolized greatly.

Seers, mostly, are often taken in high regard due to their title, but these classes are essentially learning as much as they are guiding. Mages and Seers, to be frank, start off knowing Jack shit. They may know parts of their aspect, but their main problem is actually understanding and knowing where to apply their aspect.

Mages are also seen as a 'suffering class,' and while it's a trend in Homestuck. Their type of learning and knowing is through experience rather than study. Muelin and Sollux both experienced their aspects in different regards; Sollux hearing the voices of the dead, or doomed souls, and Muelin engaging in her aspect through shipping. Both have a personal connection with their aspects that Seers often lack. Likewise, Seers are more knowledgeable about their aspect compared to Mages.

Exploiting:

Knights and Pages are treated differently due to their paths. 

Pages, as stated before, are infantilized due to their slow growth. This makes them appear weak or useless to their group despite the immense potential they have. 

Knights are also treated like pillars of strength, leading others to disregard, or not take into account, the issues they may struggle with.

The Exploitation class is a powerful one, yet as the saying goes "With great power, comes great responsibility." This statement weighs on both exploitation classes who often require someone to see eye-to-eye with them and kinda chill with them.

Stealing:

For Stealers, I can't think off the top of my head for major major misconceptions. However, I do need to address something about thieves that I've seen once or twice in a few other analyses.

The concept of Thieves being selfish is a fair, yet wrong assumption to make. I consider Thieves to be more hoarders than anything. A Thief's own ability comes out of fear of a lack of their aspect, so to compensate, they fill themselves with it, taking it from others.

And, I also have to state, Alternatively, Rogues aren't all good either. At times, they, too, can be selfish. Starting out, Rogues will also hoard their aspect, but not through gathering like a thief, rather they suppress their aspect. 

Roxy and Vriska both come to mind for each of these issues. Vriska dealt with a very unfortunate life in Alternia; her nothing being abusive as well as Vriska having the blood of countless trolls on her hands. This led her to be filled with a life of emptiness. Trying to fill that void, Vriska roleplayed as her idol, Mindfang, despite such roleplays containing far much more murder than her friends intended. She also had a cueball, giving her physical knowledge to create a sort of control in her life.

Roxy, likewise, was already filled with Void, drinking herself to oblivion. As such, she would be invisible to her session and friends. Roxy would later solve her issues alone, unknown to her friends until she broke her sobriety during the whole lollipop thing.

Overall, the Stealing class tends to be a hoarding class, just one takes from people to fill themselves, and the other suppresses themselves as a ‘sacrifice’ of sorts.

Manipulating:

Again, I’m kind of blanking out on issues to discuss, but there is a bit of an issue –not serious as other people tend to get this right– with Witches. I’ve seen Witches described as extremely powerful with their aspect, considering that they actively Manipulate it. However, this is mainly given with Jade’s own abilities, not taking into consideration with her dogteir abilities.

As such, a brief explanation: Witches aren’t that powerful, and Jade’s abilities were enhanced via Bec, the First Guardian of Earth. Thus, her usual abilities would include growing and shrinking per normal, but teleportation and such is solely due to Bec. Jade is still badass as fuck.

Witches are given more creative freedom with their aspect as an active Manipulation class. For example, a Witch of Heart would have powers that align more with changing a person’s character or drawing out fractures of a personality to their bidding. Yet, they would not physically change a person’s character (in my opinion, that would be rather OP and leaning towards Lord territory), rather take pieces and arrange them as they like.

Heirs, on the other hand, are often seen as complacent or detached from their aspect, yet this is mainly a John is an Heir of Breath and cannot represent every Heir issue. Breath players are likely to be detached in some sense, yet Heirs are more known for a calm attitude and general friendliness to their peers. They’re actually cool guys, and not a ‘Please-Think-I’m-Cool’ person like the Striders are (No hate, I love the Striders).

Destroying:

The Destructive classes have a bad reputation of being ‘villainous’ due to the negative connotation of destruction. However, destructive classes are just as important as other types of classes.

Imagine Gamzee, the Bard of Rage, the entire session was filled with a bunch of angry teens stressed out about the extinction of their race. Gamzee and a few others were often invisible or treated badly by their fellow players, and in Gamzee’s case, his own beliefs were challenged by the very beings they created. As an addict and cult-attendee, Gamzee was filled with Hopes and Miracles, but once he became disillusioned and sober, those crashed right in front of him leading him to question and jump to the next truth he could see. That being, the reality of the caste system in Alternia. Gamzee became aware of his power, and in his rage, used it as a way to vent out his struggles. 

It is also important to mention that Gamzee was also influenced by Caliborn’s own rage and corruption via Lil’Cal which also ties in with his Bard class.

Despite this, Gamzee’s actions pathed a way to victory for his session, allowing Terezi and Vriska to work together (in a good timeline, that is) as well as creating a more unified bond for Karkat to work with. In a sense, he did create Hope via his destructive Rage.

The same sense goes for Princes as well who take their destruction in more literal senses.

Creating:

Creation classes suffer from the opposite issue to destructive classes; instead of being villainized, they are idolized due to their role.

In it's own form of irony, two of the Creators in Homestuck pose as an antagonist. Aranea is the cause for the death and future retcon of what was the alpha session, and Jane is her own asshole character (mainly talking about epilogues here). Creators aren't going to be all good saints; that's just bad writing. Rather, just like Aranea and Jane (I could also include Kanaya and Porrim), they will be equally selfish, and sometimes just be straight up bad people using their abilities to create overabundance.

Side Note: Female/Male Classes

In Homestuck, Calliope has stated that classes tend to sway between genders. Examples of these being Princes being majorly male and Sylphs being majorly female. However, an interesting take I’ve seen on this is that the Cherub species is inherently sexist, not by nature but by ignorance. As such, Calliope and Caliborn tend to take on ‘traditional’ views of genders. Therefore, I believe that classes, no matter which one, are all supposed to be gender neutral (Hussie has said this, but for all purposes, I will repeat it), and the titles are merely by name. Meenah has shown that a player can customize their godteir outfit to their liking, and I will take this as: your class is your class, and gender is fucking stupid.

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Beginning

Next

Previous

[kikokus]

Chapter 1075 Thoughts

Just general ones this time and not specific to any particular character for once

So. We’re playing Among Us, huh. (For the record I have never played Among Us but I’m getting the sense that the situation is very similar and we’re essentially trying to find the imposter that’s trying to kill everyone...) I’ve seen many, many theories that basically implicate every single one of the Vegapunks and extend to Caribou doing it and to Saturn and Kizaru already being on the island though...why they would be sneaking around the lab disabling cameras is a mystery to me...and Oda’s silhouettes are always misleading so I’m not taking that shadow as an indication of anyone in particular for now.

I do like the one theory I’ve seen that if Oda’s drawing parallels to real life Edison’s a likely candidate, since he was the one to give the last known command to the Seraphim, but that whole command chain order is confusing to begin with and I assume once his ‘stop’ order was completed (which it was almost instantly) they’d be able to take on any new orders. And while I’m waiting on the official tl, Pythagoras mentioning that it might be ‘their fault’ (as in, I believe, the idea that the Seraphims are still somewhat sentient and capable of thought) could also mean that there is no imposter since the idea of a creation turning on the ones who created it is also a very common sci-fi trope.

Other than that it was nice to see each group get at least a little focus but obviously them all being split up is going to come into play at some point because I feel as if reuniting isn’t going to be all that easy...

As for the end of the chapter... Look, I’ve been saying since like...2015 or whenever that Oda generally doesn’t bring characters back to fill the same role they’ve already filled, and while I still want a definitive answer as to how we got from the cover story to Lucci and Kaku being in CP0, the fact is that these guys are smart and I don’t for a second believe they think their jobs are in any way secure given that the government already tried to eliminate them once.

So while people are seemingly in disbelief that they’d ever want to (even temporarily) ally themselves with the Strawhats, they don’t have much of a choice here and this is really the first time we’ve seen them be ‘alone’ since the time-skip so there’s no need to keep up any sort of pretense with each other. I’m also a big fan of unexpected team-ups and I doubt it would have been raised at all if it weren’t happening at some point...at least, I hope not...

The only other thing of note is that I’m pretty sure the fact Luffy broke his boots is going to come into play because we know that those boots can basically be used to immobilize the wearer so they can’t move in which case the only people who’d be able to do anything would be Luffy and, well, Lucci and Kaku.

So we’ll see about that.

(Wait there’s one other thing I wanted to say, and it’s that I don’t think we’ve seen Hattori for a couple of chapters...what is that bird up to...)

[the-lincyclopedia]

10 fic tag game!

Rules: Pick ten of your fics, scroll to somewhere in the middle, pick a chunk of lines, and share it! Then tag ten people, if you’d like. 

Thanks for the tag, @khashanakalashtar! I tag @cricketnationrise, @the-knights-who-say-book, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @doggernaut, @birlcholtz, @weneedtotalkaboutfic, @parvuls, @dexsbruins, @hoeratius, and @worldsentwined. 

Unlike Kieran, who did a spread of years’ worth of fic, I exclusively used fics from the past four months, because I’ve been posting a LOT of (mostly very short) fics lately. This covers three fandoms, namely The Queen’s Thief, Check Please, and Boyfriend Material. 

The Unlikely Friendship between the King of Attolia and his Favorite Guard - The Queen’s Thief, 2.5k, outsider POV on Gen & Costis, rated T, December 2022

After several seconds of silence, the king reaches out his right arm until his hook is right in front of me. “Touch it,” he says, and, though his voice is gentle, I recognize this as an order from my sovereign.

It’s not just the point of the hook that’s sharp, it turns out. The entire edge is essentially a razor. “You killed the assassins,” I say.

The king nods and then sighs. “I wish people had a little less trouble believing that.”

“Do you?” Ormentiedes asks. “Would you wish to be seen as just as bloodthirsty as the queen?”

Attolis sighs again. “No, admittedly not.”

When Lucia Day Dawns - Check Please, 1k, Louis character study, rated T, December 2022

Honestly, the details of this concert had eaten Lukas’s free time all semester, and he was pretty sure by now that he’d made a terrible mistake and should have just given a recital.

And then he played his pitch pipe and the choir started singing.

“Sankta Lucia” was such a classic Lucia song that Lukas had heard it a million times, but somehow his tiny, mostly American choir managed to bring out something new in it. “Lusse lella” and “Staffan stalledräng” were just fun little ditties, nothing profound, but they gave Lukas—and, seemingly, the rest of the choir—a jolt of energy and fun and wakefulness that they needed right at the beginning of the concert. “Ett barn är fött på denna dag,” “Hosianna Davids son,” and “Dotter Sion” soared in exactly the right ways, the harmonies locking in perfectly.

had the shiniest wheels (now they’re rusting) - Check Please, 769 words, Jack & Shitty, rated T, December 2022

Jack gave a quiet snort but didn’t smile. “I just—I’m worried that I’ll never again be as impressive as I was when I was a suicidal teenager. And I’m worried that I only did as well as I did back then because I was a suicidal teenager.”

Shitty decided that this conversation was probably better had in private, so he squeezed past Jack, into Jack’s room, and sat down on Jack’s bed. “What kind of bullshit logic got you to that conclusion?”

Jack closed the door and sat down next to Shitty. “I don’t think it’s bullshit logic. Back when I wanted to kill myself, I was willing to take risks that I’m not willing to take anymore, both with plays and with my body, with training. It paid off.”

“Yeah, in the short term,” Shitty broke in, even though it didn’t seem like Jack was done. “You know you can’t build a lasting career on treating your body like that. You’re smarter now, more strategic. That’s a good thing.”

First Date Jitters - The Queen’s Thief, 871 words, Costis/Kamet, rated T, November 2022

“Yes, it’s okay that you’re paying,” Kamet said. “I’m sorry for not answering that question earlier. It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. And you just used the word ‘unilateral,’ so I refuse to believe you’re too dumb to be anything other than a jock.”

Costis shrugged. “I just have smart friends. It rubs off on me occasionally.”

“I think that counts. Or do you think knowledge only counts as knowledge when it springs directly into your brain without any interaction with anyone else?”

this love is difficult (but it’s real) - The Queen’s Thief, 3.7k, Costis/Kamet, rated T, October 2022

Gen grimaced. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Is this because of Costis, or is it because of . . . you know, him?”

Kamet scowled. “It’s because of Nahuseresh. But like—how am I ever supposed to trust anyone again? Especially when I have no recourse if something goes wrong. It’s not like anyone would believe me if I tried to report abuse.”

“I would believe you,” Gen said immediately. “Even if it were Costis.”

“Yeah, but what good would that do?”

“You know I got Sejanus Erondites expelled last year, right? I have my ways, and I’d help you. I promise.”

Five Times People Thought Irene and Helen Were Dating and One Time Everyone Knew They Weren’t - The Queen’s Thief, 3.4k, Irene & Helen, rated T, October 2022

When Helen exited the classroom, she turned to Irene and said, “So, everyone thought you were breaking up with me just now.”

“What?” said Irene, standing up. “But—what?”

Helen laughed and rolled her eyes. “Think about what you said when you stuck your head in the classroom.”

Irene frowned. “I just told you that I was done meeting about my group project.”

“Sure, I knew that’s what you meant,” Helen allowed. “But what you actually said was, ‘Helen, we’re done.’”

every day i wake up and suspect that i was simply never cut out to be the kind of person they expect - Boyfriend Material, 1k, Luc/Oliver, rated T, October 2022

“When I was fourteen my mother told me that I never planned ahead,” Oliver says with barely any hesitation.

“What?” Luc demands. “That’s ridiculous! You plan everything! You phone ahead for dinner reservations and make bircher to eat for breakfast all week and always make sure you know what you’re going to say in court. How could she think you never planned ahead?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver replies. “Ever since she said that, every time I’ve found myself planning ahead for something, I’ve felt all confused, like, how can I be doing this thing that my mother says I don’t do?”

“That sounds deeply unpleasant to have to deal with,” Luc says, “but also, how did that not make you realize she was wrong?”

Lay All Your Love on Me - The Queen’s Thief, 14k, Gen/Irene and Helen/Sophos and lots of Gen & Helen & Irene & Sophos, rated T, October 2022

Eugenides shrugged. “Okay then. But I’m going to keep acting the way I act.”

Irene rubbed her forehead. “It would be so much better for all of us if you could just be more diplomatic.”

“You don’t have to bring me on tours,” Eugenides said. “I don’t have to be part of the band. You get a say in that. But you don’t get to control my behavior.”

“Gen,” said Helen, tone dangerous. “Surely there’s a difference between controlling you and asking you not to sabotage this thing that all of us are trying very hard to build.”

Welcome to Fandom - Boyfriend Material, 1.8k, Luc/Oliver, rated T, September 2022

Can I call you? Luc asked.

Well, that wasn’t what Oliver had expected. I’m on the Tube. Why? Is something wrong?

Nothing’s wrong, said Luc, and then: Actually, can I come over?

Lucien, you’re scaring me.

I’m sorry, Luc said. After the typing bubbles had appeared and disappeared intermittently for at least a full, anxiety-producing minute, there came: I’m not upset with you, no one is dying, and I don’t expect this to have any consequences for our relationship. Just file this under Shit About Luc That Lives On The Internet. I promise not to hide in the bathroom this time.

Care - Boyfriend Material, 2.6k, Luc/Oliver, rated G, September 2022

“I really would rather be there for you and wind up ill than do neither.”

“I’m . . . not familiar with that logic.”

“Let me guess—your parents confined you to your room when you were ill as a kid and spent as little time around you as possible to limit the chance of contagion?”

“Lucien, can you please not try to start an argument about my parents’ choices while I feel like my head is going to explode?”

“Sorry, baby. Can I come round after work?”

[rewiredthethirdblog]

Comment by BeatricePotsmoker on Reddit

I said this the other day but I think I learned why rich people go.

I grew up crazy poor. When we had food, we got it from food stamps or these big government surplus boxes. Sometimes we didn’t have utilities. I had school shoes and by that, I mean I only wore shoes if I went to school. I had two passions: playing outside and books.

The weird thing about being super poor is that sometimes you own things that make you seem less poor. For example, my parents had a waterbed, a VCR and a cockatiel. I’m sure this sounds crazy if you didn’t grow up in the 80s but all these were seen as nice things normal, successful people had.

I’ve spent so much of my adulthood wondering: if we were so poor why did we have a little bit of nice stuff when we didn’t even have food? It turns out psychologists have done a lot of work on this, too, and the reasons are basically:

- [This article says people will forego nutrition for conspicuous consumption because they feel deprived and need to feel socially included.](http://www.ecineq.org/ecineq_paris19/papers_EcineqPSE/paper_241.pdf)

- [Other articles say poor people buy things with money they should be spending on other things because they are sad. Essentially, you get fatalistic about your chances of ever fitting in socially and not struggling.](https://business.time.com/2010/05/07/study-low-self-esteem-makes-you-more-likely-to-buy-luxury-goods/)

And you know what? It sort of makes sense. I mean, if you’re never going to be anything but struggling and life is always going to be shit, why *not* get a little squirt of dopamine the next time you have a little money and buy a cockatiel at the flea market? It will make you happy to see the bird and if you talk about it to your rich friends, they might see you as an equal. That would feel good.

So, anyway, I grow up. That love of books paid off. I did well, got some scholarships and got myself educated. Even went and got a doctorate and shit. I’m absolutely not rich by any stretch of the imagination but I think it’d be fair to say I’m solidly upper-middle class.

The thing is now that I really don’t want *things*. Collecting shit does not give me the same dopamine squirt it did when I was a kid. Maybe the cyclical pattern I saw my parents get us all in of ‘get something, feel good, feel poor, feel bad (but now with the added stress of having to feed a bird) and continue feeling worse’ broke my brain. That and I saw my parents’ chase for stuff didn’t help them. One killed themselves and the other became a bit of a hoarder.

The only thing that makes me happy now is feeling alive through experiences. It makes sense, I guess. I work *so much* that most of my life feels like drudgery. But man, do I feel good when I’m going out to a good restaurant, climbing something tall, or going on a fun trip. I also like bringing my friends with me to do fun things. If they can’t go, I love sharing pictures with them and talking about the experience again. It makes me feel alive. I’m not doing it to show off, it’s that reminiscing on the good thing makes me feel good again.

Even the Uber-rich cannot escape having a human brain. A human brain that gets sad, bored and scared. I’d anticipate - like my parents with the cockatiels - it gets harder to find the thing that might make you happy so you just keep trying.

But with them, it’s not buying or doing things *everyone else has,* the things that trigger that lizard brain all humans have are the things *no one* else has.

Does it seem gross for them to spend so much on an 8 hour excursion when that same amount of money would change someone’s life? Sure, but should we be disgusted with them for doing that any more than we should be disgusted with poor people for spending the money that could change their lives on dumb, conspicuous consumption shit that will someday make their homes so full of “treasures” they can barely walk around?

Everyone is just looking for something that makes them feel alive for a second.