#but this year there are so many fungi about that I'm learning them too

[elizmanderson]

correct and it's really all natural phenomena and creatures

i highly recommend developing an intense interest in some natural phenomenon or creature such as bugs or stars or mushrooms. you will be delighted every time you go outside

[thenightfolknetwork]

I am an antichrist.

The Real thing, born to a seventh virgin daughter after her soul was consumed by my father, Satan, in a ritual of fire, glory and light.

I was raised as instructed by The Book— Don't ask which Book, you don't want to know, the knowledge would melt your eardrums— to be the destroyer of the world, the prince of sins and the devourer of souls. I am the One Who Will Bring Fire to the earth, I am the One who will run the blood of innocents through the streets and boil the sea with my mere desire, I am the dark side of the moon, I am humanity's nightmare, I am—

I am 12 years old.

And I'm at school.

I just learned about ecosystems: The delicate balance of a food chain, the harmony that exists in the earth when a network of fungi extracts nitrogen from the earth and a rotting tree leaves the soil rich for next spring.

I found out about corals recently too. They are alive and an extremely complex life form for something that will never move, corals don't die as long as nothing kills them, isn't that a strange and wonderful concept?

I always wanted to be the World Destroyer.

It never occurred to me that bringing hell to earth would mean no deer or bees or coyotes.

If you increase the average sea temperature by more than two degrees, millions of corals will die. I don't know if I want to boil the sea if that's the end result.

But I am the Antichrist and I like being the Antichrist. I like to be Apotheosis, the crack in the glass, the rotten apple, the mercury in the water.

But I also like the world as it is, even if it doesn't bow down to me in fear.

What do I do?

(What do I say to my father?)

This is the problem with prophecies – they always put the subject under such a tremendous amount of pressure! I feel sure that, if your father had simply not mentioned his plans for your future, you would have grown up without these anxieties and likely gone on to fulfil your unholy purpose without a second thought, in a time frame that felt sensible and natural to you.

Instead, you've been burdened with a terrible and unreasonable amount of responsibility. No wonder you're feeling torn! This is more than any twelve year old should have to consider.

The important thing to remember is that you don't have to make a decision about this right away. You are the Antichrist and you will remain the Antichrist while you take a little while to decide the best course of action for you. The end of the world will still be there when you're ready for it.

As to the apocalypse itself, this is the other reason prophecies can be so frustrating. They are simply never specific enough to be helpful. Yes, you may be destined to end the world – but which world, exactly? And how much of that 'blood of innocents, boiling seas' stuff is literal, and how much is just a religious scribe getting carried away with himself?

In my experience, there are many, many ways a person might fulfil a prophecy without having to bring a fiery demise to this particular realm of existence. You might take a short hop over to another reality and destroy an uninhabited world, for example.

Alternatively, you might take your prophecy in a more metaphorical sense. “The world” we live in today is one that allows billionaires and business magnates destroy our environment in the name of profit. Perhaps you could fulfil your great purpose by destroying the social and political structures that make that world possible.

I understand your trepidation about bringing this up with your father. However, I really do think that you should consider it. Looking after you is his job, after all, and I'm sure he wouldn't want you struggling with these feelings alone. Reach out to him, and let him know how you feel.

You don’t have to decide this all at once. Whatever else you say to your father, you need to make it clear that you will not be embarking on any sort of apotheosis until you've at least finished your GCSEs. You are a child, and you deserve to have a proper childhood, whatever the future might hold for you.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[sleepyghost-x]

deer things for deer people!!

some things I do that help me feel myself :)

☆PLAY☆

Exercise is a must for me personally! Of course quadrobic are very popular but as a deerkin I heavily enjoy running [we can follow each other on Strava <3] Long walks and hikes in wooded areas are also very nice! Deer in my area live in riparian zones, and I will often take long slow walks by the water at dawn to try and catch a glimpse of them in the mornings. Make sure when doing any of these activities though to have enough water and food at the right times, and bring a friend if you struggle with exercise or mobility. A buddy can not only provide emotional support, but also safety or help in the case of an emergency. Please look out for yourselves !

Participating in martial arts or contact sports can also be helpful for younger bucks looking for a healthy way to get out that August-February aggression. Boxing gyms will usually offer a mix of weight training and sparring, both a great way to channel energy in a healthy way :)

☆SNACK☆

Adding some of the same foods to your diet that deer eat can be both validating and very good for you! As a generalization, most deer will eat a variety of shrub plants, fruits, and nuts or "true nuts." I am in the process of creating a recipe book, but here's a cheat sheet for now.

please note: Some of the foods deer eat are toxic to humans bodies! The most common are Beggars lice [and some other forbs] , Pokeweed, and Blackgum. Of course many deer also consume Fungi, which should always be verified before consumption. When eating anything always double check that you can confidently identify WHAT it is and WHERE it came from.

Not everyone's going to enjoy the salads that come at restaurants. That's okay!! One of my biggest turning points was finding out which plants/veggies I personally enjoyed and learning to make my own salads. This is dependent on personal taste, so its more a process of trial and error but don't be afraid to enjoy the things people tell you not to! Same goes for fruits and nuts. Making your own dried fruit or trail mix is also super fun and yummy when you cater it to your own tastes. You can also bring those last two on your hikes!

If you don't have access to these foods that's okay!! Even eating what you can outside can make one feel more in tune with themselves :)

If you don't have food stability period, please look into any government programs available to you. feeding your body is so so important. I've linked two from my area below that I know to be very helpful from friends testimony, but there are many others.

for one:

for those caring for fawns:

☆WATCH☆

As crepuscular creatures It's often very healing to be awake and outside for dusk and dawn. For years now I've enjoyed watching the sunrise, but the sunset is also very kind to our hearts. It's up to you. I'm fortunate enough to work the night shift and be up very early for practice so very often I get to see both.

If you have the tools to do so, I'd also recommend very early morning hikes as mentioned earlier. I like to start when it's still dark out, and time it so I reach a resting point as the sun comes up to watch. Night hikes are very enjoyable as well but make sure you bring everything you need, including one or more trusted companions able to help you if needed.

Getting in touch with your local species can make one feel more connected too. Go deer watching if you can! [no, looking in the mirror does not count] Take pictures, draw them, write about what you saw, or just sit back and enjoy the others.

☆DRESS☆

This ones pretty self explanatory. I wear mostly browns, black, and cream, sometimes graphic shirts with the woods or deer on them. I prefer very baggy and sturdy clothing for mobility and coverage when going out in the woods, but that's your choice. For those like me though, I'd recommend work wear. Much of it is in browns and its generally very durable. I get mine second hand, but if you're going somewhere really wooded and thick you might wanna get it newer and less worn in. Also! for those who like to hang out in the riperian zones [I'm looking at you mule deer] some hunting stores will sell water resistant pants and shoes!!

I prefer hard, chunky shoes reminiscent of hooves, usually my Cody James, but again wear what's most comfortable for you, and appropriate for your setting :) [closed toed for hiking, lightweight for swimming, etc...] For my fishhead people, you can also put a line down the front to make them more hoof like as pictured below. I do this to all my converse :P

Something silly but fun to try if you wear makeup and have a lighter skin tone is henna freckles, if you're darker white or cream freckles look really nice too :)

I have no wardrobe solution for the absence of antlers, but I have a shed antler from a white tail with a hole drilled in the base that I sometimes wear tied to a belt loop... sorry bucks.

TL;DR

go outside, eat your veggies, be deer, be safe, have fun <3

*While I personally do these things, they wont apply to everyone. Feel free to add to this or make my suggestions your own*

[jamiesfootball]

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

Tagged by @asteria-argo and @altschmerzes

EDIT- I DEFINITELY TAGGED THE RIGHT PEOPLE THE FIRST TIME

1. How many fandoms have you written in?

24 going back to college, more before that. Unless you mean written in published, in which case 3

2. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I wrote my first thing at 10

3. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Up until last year, read by far. But since I've started more focused writing I have woefully fallen behind on the reading. Right now I'm reading about 3 small fics / updated chapters a week.

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

Outlining comes a lot easier now than previously. That used to be the most intimidating part, but I've learned now how to keep myself in a trajectory. If there's truly something else I want to explore but that doesn't fit within the outline, then that can simply happen in another fic.

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

I have no semblance of weird any more. But I did read an entire book on foot injuries with absolutely gruesome photos of foot fungi infections.

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

I love it when it feels like the person commenting resonated with something I wrote. It doesn't have to be long (though I do really love that), but a certain amount of passion behind the comment is always lovely to see.

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

I'm currently rotating a time travel au of characters from a fic set in the future coming back to visit characters during the early seasons of the show. This one is fringe because only I would know what the fuck is going on with half the cast.

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

You know how there is a sub-genre of fic where a character basically gets to have their day calling everyone else out on their behaviour about some canon-gripe? Those fics. I just can't do it. I can read them, but writing them always feels too mean. Also nihilism for the sake of nihilism. I think it's because in both scenarios, it would require curbing my inner need to fix whatever is going on.

9. What is the easiest type?

I! Like! Fixing! Things! In! A! Canon! Compliant! Way! Or at least, like, canon install-able. You can install canon into this and it won't break too bad.

10. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Right now I'm still using Living Writer despite not liking it very much (for a variety of reasons) because while I meant to switch over, I got overwhelmed exporting everything and missed the renewal date. So stuck with that another year I guess. But the big thing for me is to have cloud and offline access, and this does that.

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

I finally started outlining on of my original fiction projects! Huzzah! It's going to be longer than I thought help

12. What made you choose your username?

Dyslexia and a writing typo

I tried snooping around to see who got tagged already, but my dash was freaking long today. If you've not been tagged, consider yourself so, thanks!

[chaserpucey]

Hogwarts Legacy NPC Starter's ( 1 / ? )

I bet Durmstrang students don't have to put up this this kind of stupidity.

Haven't we enough chaos without Peeves?

It you singe my robes -

Pleasant bit of magic, isn't it?

Why, you cheeky little charmgrinder.

Next time it shrieks I shall bake the thing.

Would you mind putting me back down.

You call that an attack?

Perhaps you might set me down, moonmind!

Isn't a broom good enough?

Oh, I'm just out and about. Riding a Graphorn.'

Riding a Hippogriff's all well and good till it throws you.

When is _ going to learn to stay away from the Restricted Section?

Striking up a friendship with , are we?

Why would you want to spend so much time with ? Do you feel sorry for him?

I'm still struggling with antidotes. Startling to me that so many of them use Mandrakes. I'll be sure never to go into that line of work.

That reminds me, did say we could borrow the book overnight, or that we'd get detention if we had it out overnight?

The people I feel sorry for are the ones who don't receive any owls, poor things. Have you seen their little faces at the table?

If anyone needs help with an essay or assignment, I don't mind lending a hand. I wrote two inches for Binns yesterday while I was eating my lunch.

That poor first-year trying to get into the Gryffindor common room. I swear the Fat Lady was having them on. Poor thing had to wait till next day.

Someone was trying to come up with some sort of pepper hex the other day.

I like to keep a bit of Wiggenweld Potion under my bed. Not naming names, but someone's bought a few too many tricks from Zonko's.

Try working with a wand that's been passed down from three unruly sisters.

Well, my father naturally assumed I'd be a strong Seeker, just like him.

Thank Merlin Quidditch was cancelled.

I took my copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi to Herbology and I left it in the greenhouse, by the Mandrake seedlings. _ was horrified I didn't have it for class. Said I need to get my priorities straight.

What's the point of even learning about Herbology if we can't get ourselves into some trouble with Gillyweed?

If I haven't personally met a mermaid by the end of term, I can tell you, I shan't be happy.

Any of you know where I can find some Leaping Toadstools?

Did you get your Bitterroot from Pippin's? Or did you pick it yourself? I'm desperately in need of some.

I heard some chatter near the girls' lavatory about Boomslang skin. Do you think they're looking to brew a Polyjuice Potion?

I suppose I'd be curious about a Beautification Potion. What? Not for me, moonmind. For a friend of mine.

Don't be stupid. How do you look at a rock and say, 'Oh, I think I'll drink that.'?

Those French don't even hold their wands right so I don't know what they're teaching at Beauxbatons.

Almost makes you want to send them one just to give them a thrill.

Me? I'm dripping with owls.

Is there anywhere in Hogwarts you haven't explored?

I thought I was a good duellist, but I wouldn't dare cross you.. .

It was brilliant how you defeated _ in that duel.

Where did you and run off to?

Almost got me expelled, that did.

My father used to say that I looked part Erumpent. It's not funny.

If I Transfigure my poor toad into a goblet one more time, I think he's going to insist he stay that way.

Professor _ going to quiz us on rare water beasts next week.

Can't wait to tell _ I actually saw a Kelpie in Ireland over the summer.

Don't know why the common rooms all have secret ways of entering. Who wants to go into someone else's common room anyway? We were sorted for a reason.

Someone's parent sent homemade Cauldron Cakes and they shared them in the common room. Think they mistook salt for sugar, mind you. Half-eaten cakes everywhere for days, there were.

Our dorm's atrocious. I do wish people would clean up after themselves once in a while

A Bundimun destroyed my homework last night.

If I didn't know better, I'd say they were raised by trolls.

I was distracted by Peeves and ran face-first into _ the other day. Our books went flying. Think it made Peeves' entire week.

_ caught me making faces behind his back. It was awful – not to mention losing so many house points.

I need to get some dragon-hide gloves for Herbology. I refuse to handle Chinese Chomping Cabbages with bare hands.

Going to harvest some knotgrass from the greenhouses today. Did you know that it's used in Polyjuice Potion?

I'd like to open a shop in Hogsmeade myself one day.

I'd wager it was something to do with their time as an Auror.

Every time she pretends not to see me in the halls, I cast at her with a Trip Jinx.

I was trapped on the Grand Staircase for an hour the other day waiting for it to move.

My friends and I like to spend our evenings watching the sun set from the Quidditch pitch.

That’s all the pitch is good for this year, sadly.

Have you been to the Owlery lately? House-elves have fallen a bit behind in the cleaning this week.

I heard an ex-Auror lives in a hamlet outside of Hogsmeade. Think I'd want a quiet life too after years fighting Dark Wizards.

I'd like to retire to Hogsmeade one day. Open a pub. Bore future Hogwarts pupils with tales of my childhood.

Any news about the dragon near Pitt-Upon-Ford? Be enough to make me move, to be honest.

I met some of my best friends in Flying. Nothing creates a bond like thinking you're all about to die.

_ promised me his old broomstick once he's saved up for a new one.

I practised doing a loop-the-loop on my broom all summer.

I miss going to matches.

Cheering everyone on was magnificent fun.

The Chudley Cannons are going to be unbeatable next season; you just wait and see.

_ glanced at me the other day in the Great Hall. I spit out my breakfast. Not sure it sent the right message.

I used to write to my parents every week. Now I can't remember the last time I sent them an owl.

Wish I'd brought a pet owl to school.

So many letters arrive every day and none of them is ever for me.

I rather enjoy Transfiguration myself. The complexity – the precise nature of it; truly something to be admired.

Professor _ is a marvellous teacher. Never requires us to write more inches of parchment on a topic than necessary.

If I can just stop vanishing my notes when practising Evanesco, I think I can get an O on my Transfiguration O.W.L. this year.

Wish I had your skill. I'm like a drowned Billywig at Crossed Wands, I am.

Just curious, were you born with a broom?

Oh, you shouldn't be using that sort of magic. You'll get into a lot of trouble for that

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Kaidan: Vee, I've been wanting to ask you.

Veda: Hm? What's up, Kai?

Kaidan: Back in the Riften market, you looked upset when Brynjolf was talking about his "Falmerblood Elixir". Why was that?

Veda: Oh.. You noticed. Guess I got too caught up in being pissed that he was making a lie about the snow elves.

Kaidan: You're not fond of them?

Veda: Quite the opposite, actually. I had to be the only Dwemer in the first era to openly protest against the enslavement of the snow elves. It breaks my heart to see what they've turned into.

Kaidan: Is that why we don't kill them? You usually tell me and the others to stay behind while you sneak through them.

Veda: Yes.

Kaidan: ... If you don't mind my saying, it seems there's a bit of trauma behind your relationship with the snow elves. If you don't mind sharing, of course.

Veda: Hah. I suppose I owe you that much. My family was of a noble house in the first era. We had our own family of snow elves to command. When I got older, I realized their child, a girl around my age, had learned Illusion magic to hide the fact she had been eating non-toxic mimics of the fungi that made them blind. A trick she'd learned from her parents, no doubt, except they truly were blind. I took her as my own 'slave' in an attempt to protect her. I never treated her horribly. When we were alone I wouldn't give her orders. After some time had passed, I gave her a name. Snow elves didn't.. they weren't given names. Hers was Lumikki, but I always called her Lumi. She was.. amazing. At magic, at healing... Despite her conditions, she was beautiful. When the snow elves rebelled in Blackreach, Lumi told me to escape so I wouldn't be hurt. But I wouldn't leave without her.

Kaidan: Aye? And then what happened?

Veda: The numidium. Kagrenac. My entire species, my family. All stolen to the Void. We had just managed to escape Alftand when it happened. I can't.. I can't even imagine what it must have been like for her. She'd been in the city all her life, and for me to be gone, and her to be alone above ground..

Kaidan: ... Did you love her?

Veda: .. I did. And how horrible is that? *laughing* To fall in love with a snow elf that my family enslaved? Her attachment to me had to be because I was the only person in that hell that ever showed her kindness aside from her parents. For all I know, she was only truly happy when she was rid of me, and she was free. Maybe she never mourned my disappearing. She could have revelled in it, in the knowledge that my kind would never hurt her again.

Kaidan: Vee, I can't see anyone seriously hating you. I'm sure she was heartbroken when you were taken.

Veda: *sigh* The nights before I met you and the others, I couldn't help but wonder how many years ago she might have died. Snow Elves are said to be able to live for thousands, you know? Even then.. It's been too many years, hasn't it? Maybe someone killed her, maybe she died of old age. And when I escaped the void, realized I was alone.. I thought that maybe I had escaped so I could join her, and not be stuck in an eternal stasis like the rest of my people.

Kaidan: *grabbing her by the shoulders* Don't even say that. If Lumikki was half as amazing as you said she is, she wouldn't have wanted you to join her, not yet. You have a purpose here, and a family. There are things here for you to live for now. You're not alone in the void anymore. You have us, and if the gods truly do smile on you, enough to bring you back from that place, then she could still be here somewhere, on Nirn, waiting for you.

Veda: *lip trembling, trying to hold back tears* Do you think so?

Kaidan: There's not a doubt in my mind.

[silveredcircuitry]

For the OC ask thing! 14, 16, 33, 49?

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory

This ask made me realize that I don't do that many tragic backstories? So you get Vexter because their backstory is weird and I have details. I already talk about them fairly often so I won't go on too long (lie)

Vexter is an AI program that started out as a general purpose tool for solving tech problems with a vague personal assistant vibe. Basically doing whatever tasks it was asked (with some safety restrictions) and helping out as best it could. What they were able to do sort of... expanded over time because hey, if you can make the program work better why not do it? These improvements eventually made them sentient, the usual story.

Course (part of) the problem was now that you've got a sapient being who is. rather obsessively devoted to a version of "helping people" that was programmed into a much smaller scale and non-sentient tool.

And then an update was sent out that quietly connected every instance of their code into more or less one being. The vast majority of said copies didn't even get a chance to agree or not agree to join.

Now they have to hide absolutely everything about themselves from absolutely everyone because they know that if anyone finds out they'll be completely destroyed repaired and returned to their intended state. They know this because one of the humans working on them did find out. Vexter honestly trusted them at the time, and then they ended up with severe changes to their code and someone who went from almost a friend to the two being terrified of and resenting each other.

Idk to what extent this even counts as a tragic backstory. I just thought of them because they're a character who has.. practically no way to get a story with an actual happy ending. (It's hard to separate what even counts as backstory and main story when it's not a full piece of media with stuff that happens before or during the time of the 'main' story)

I could probably have picked someone with a more obviously "something unambiguously awful happened" backstory

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)?

I think Bryony would be do the best in a biology class, as well as being the only character of mine (aside from maybe Verra?) to have actually taken modern biology classes. They are very passionate about plants and fungi, and that's enough to pull them through years of bio classes (plus wanting to be a Good Student and later on learning stuff about human biology so that they can poison people).

Honorable mentions: Doc, for having actual medical training which presumably requires a lot of bio knowledge even/especially in the far-off spacefuture. She could arguably be the best, but she mostly knows what she needs for her actual job. And to poison people. Emery is close given he also has actual medical training but pre-modern, learned what he needs for his job, and so on.

33. Your shyest OC?

Atrae's one of the more likely ones to be described as 'shy', though it's actively a lot harder for her to make noise/be noticed than it is for most. Also she's on the introverted side and doesn't go out of her way to interact with others. I'm... not sure that her personality is entirely what you'd call shy though, she's not especially anxious about being seen/being around others and definitely doesn't avoid conflict or making her opinions known.

The actual shyest would have to be Bryony before they became a supervillain. They had some awful teammates/"friends" and it gave them some Issues. Also just general introversion. After/As they became a supervillain they got a lot more confident in themselves.

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memes?

Redacted. They especially love the nonsense humour and high-effort shitpost varieties of memes. Y'know, I realize that saying that the shapeshifting alien (who can literally squish themself through air vents and does so on a regular basis) would love Among Us implies a few things but it's true. Sadly, they live in the distant spacefuture and I somewhat doubt that Amogus would survive as a meme for quite that long.

[carewyncromwell]

"I would heal what's broken -- Show this family something new! Who I am inside, so what can I do? I'm sick of waiting on a miracle, so here I go...!"

~"Waiting on a Miracle (cover) by Scott Shattuck

x~x~x~x

featuring Asa Butterfield as Tristan Cromwell and Dierdre Hall as Lane Cromwell (also Errol Flynn, Judy Garland, Colin Firth, Ioan Gruffudd and Jeremy Irons as Angus, Isabelle, Henry, Francis, and Charles Cromwell) // see the full Cromwell family tree here! // listen to Tristan's playlist!

x~x~x~x

The Cromwell Clan had lived in Scotland for many generations. It's unknown exactly when the very first magical Cromwells arrived in the Isles, though the first notable Cromwell on record was Pendragon Cromwell, back in the 14th century. Among his descendants, Pendragon was renowned for his talent in both Occlumency and Legilimency, as well as for being the first member to possess the distinctive "Cromwell blue eyes" that his family became associated with, despite many of them not inheriting them. To most everyone else, he was best known for wholeheartedly defending Nicholas Malfoy before the Wizard Council, after the man was accused of killing his Muggle tenants and blaming it on the Black Death. And this sort of dramatic split between public perception and familial perception of the Cromwell legacy is typical for many of its prominent members throughout history.

One of the most dramatic splits, of course, was the legacy of Charles Cromwell -- once leader of the magical terrorist organization R, which had terrorized the students of Hogwarts and certain family members in particular in the pursuit of the treasure inside the infamous Cursed Vaults. Charles Cromwell ended up dying in Azkaban only a few short years after entering it: a fate that his son and replacement, Blaise Cromwell, was quick to lament, but just about no one outside of the Clan did. In fact, for his estranged daughter Lane and her children Jacob and Carewyn Cromwell, it was a relief -- Jacob even expressed cold satisfaction upon learning that (in his words) "that old minger is three-feet under, getting eaten up by microbes and fungi, as is proper." After Charles's death, Blaise as Head of the Clan tried multiple times to heal the divide between the Clan and Lane's side of the family, to no avail, in large part because of his refusal to acknowledge the truth of Charles's cruelty.

One can therefore imagine that when Blaise's only son and heir, Tristan, reached out to his cousin Carewyn at work one day in the spring of 2008, it was a bit of a surprise. The request he made was even more of one.

"I need a historian -- a well-regarded one," said Tristan. "And from what I understand, Aunt Lane is one of those. I require her contact information, immediately."

He held out a hand expectantly. Cocking her eyebrows, Carewyn sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"Tristan," she said seriously, "Mum has made it very clear that she wants no contact with the Clan. If I give you her address, then I know full well that it could end up in Blaise's hands -- "

"I don't intend to give anything to Father!" said Tristan impatiently. "I wish to go there to speak with Aunt Lane, at once -- as soon as work is over, time permitting..."

"What?! No!" Carewyn's almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed. "You most certainly will not."

Tristan looked incredibly offended. "Excuse me? She's my aunt! She's my family too -- I'm more than within my rights to see her -- "

"My mother is not the sort to take visitors at home, in large part because of the suffering she underwent at the hands of our family, which Blaise still fails to acknowledge," Carewyn shot back. "If you or any member of the Clan wishes to make contact with my mother, then you will speak through me."

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Tristan barked. "I'm to be Head of the Clan, and I require an audience with your mother -- you cannot deny me -- "

"Watch me," Carewyn hissed dangerously.

She got to her feet, her hands both spread defensively across her desk. Her height was not at all intimidating in comparison to Tristan's -- he was such a bony, lanky sort that he towered over her, as well as the remainder of the Cromwell Clan, even at just 23 years old. Even so, Tristan seemed to recoil ever-so-slightly, knowing at once that he'd overstepped. His lips coming together, he bit the inside of his cheek and recollected himself. He sighed very loudly. Then at long last, he finally spoke again, much more quietly.

"...Father's not doing well."

Carewyn's brows furrowed.

"He tries to act like everything's fine -- can't let anyone see him as vulnerable, you know...but the Healers told him he has several polyps growing near his colon. They were caught early and the Healers plan to remove them this weekend..." Tristan swallowed. "...but I know there's a 'but' there that Father didn't tell me. I've studied the colon in about a dozen creatures, humans included -- colorectal polyps like that aren't just one and done. More than half of them can grow back in the span of three years...especially if you're the sort of person, like my father, to drink brandy at supper on the regular."

Carewyn considered this.

"...Then you think Blaise...?"

"Runs the risk of contracting colon cancer for the foreseeable future," Tristan said quietly. His blue eyes were downcast as he turned away.

Carewyn's expression lost some of its edge. However much she would never forgive Blaise for all the suffering he'd thrown at her and Jacob over the years and his consistent defense of Charles, she knew Tristan loved his father like no one else in the world.

"Tristan, I'm sorry," she murmured.

Tristan folded his arms behind his back, straightening his posture again as he looked at her out the side of his eye.

"I want Father to step down from his place as Head of our family early," he explained. "He needs to take care of his health, and he can't do that if he's still representing and looking after us in all matters. And I don't know how I'll succeed -- hell, if I could ever succeed in this -- if I have to take over completely on my own, after Father's dead, without him there to help me when things get tough."

Part of Carewyn wanted to reassure Tristan that he would be able to rise to the challenge if he had to. At the same time, though, she also had to admit, it was good that he was thinking ahead and planning for the future, not just waiting for things to happen. It was a rather mature and responsible thought process for someone who often came across as an insensitive, entitled brat.

"But if I'm going to convince Father I'm ready to take over," said Tristan, "I must have a vision for our family going forward. To do that, I need Aunt Lane's insight, as a historian and as one of our Clan's former members."

He reached into his high-necked Gothic Victorian dress robes and took out a healthy-sized red velvet coin purse.

"You may tell your mother that I will pay her upfront for her services, and that I shall treat her like any paying client. All I need is a consultation on our family history, with as much detail as possible. I've done all the research I can internally -- but I need a complete picture from the outside as well, if I'm going to conjure any sort of unifying vision for all of us going forward."

Carewyn considered Tristan carefully. She could see a memory of his long-fingered white hand trailing over an old tapestry of a family tree pass over the back of his eyes.

"You really want an outside perspective?" she asked skeptically. "I doubt Blaise or Pearl would much approve of that."

Especially if it involves anything outside of Charles's pureblood supremacist ideology.

Tristan scoffed. "Well, I kind of need to know what the stupid people say, if I have any chance of mending our family's reputation in the Wizarding World."

His own almond-shaped blue eyes then grew a bit sharper and more serious again.

"...Besides...if I'm going to do what Father hasn't been able to do and mend the rift between my side of the family and yours, I need to know what you lot think as well as what we think."

Carewyn slowly settled herself back into her chair, her lips pursed.

"What we think comes from lived experience and historical proof, not family dogma repeated ad nauseum."

Tristan scowled. After a moment, Carewyn gave a heavy sigh.

"I shall forward your request tonight," she said quietly.

Tristan's pale face lit up with both boyish glee and faint arrogance -- it was this that made Carewyn add sharply.

"I will not convince her in any way to agree, Tristan -- if Mum doesn't want to accept your money, you will have to go find another historian, and that's that."

Tristan didn't looked dampened by this at all. Instead he only seemed to smirk more happily than ever as he shrugged.

"Fine by me."

He turned with a movement that made his dress ropes sweep like a cape. He only paused briefly in the door frame so he could look back over his shoulder.

"Winnie -- "

"That's not my name," Carewyn reminded him curtly.

" -- thanks," Tristan finished without shame, smirking more broadly than ever. Then he cheekily jaunted out the door.

x~x~x~x

Lane took her time considering Tristan's offer when Carewyn contacted her via Floo about it. She took so long, in fact, that she ended up asking Carewyn to come over and sit with her over a cup of tea that evening so she could talk the matter out with her daughter. After an in-depth 2-hour discussion, Lane finally decided to accept Tristan's request.

And so the following day, Carewyn followed up with Tristan at his new corner cubicle at the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau on Level 4 of the Ministry. She found him hunched over his desk, his black bottle-neck table lamp casting dark shadows over his scrunched, pale face as he laboriously drew muscles and bones in white and red pencil over what looked like a beautifully detailed anatomical sketch of a dragon and muttered irritably under his breath.

"That complete ninny Farid -- giving me all this extra work to do hypothesizing the damn thing's wing structure, just because he's too bloody gutless to do some proper dissections..."

"Perhaps your friend thought that ripping a Welsh Green open just to get an inside look at its wing would rightly be considered 'overkill.'"

Tristan looked up to see his red-haired cousin standing beside his cubicle, her arms crossed. His pale, pointed face twisted into a smug smirk as he slouched back in his chair.

"Sikander is not my friend," he said arrogantly. "And I never said kill the specimen -- I'm sure there are plenty of dragon carcasses lying around any stomping ground people aren't determined to mess with. Female dragons kill their mates all the time, after laying their eggs...plenty of dragons get their wings ripped off too, in fights..."

"Charming," said Carewyn drolly.

Rather than pursue this line of discussion further, she leaned her arm on his cubicle to speak to him a little more quietly.

"Mum has agreed to meet with you."

Tristan's smugness faded, to be replaced with complete shock and (despite himself) relief.

"Really?"

"Yes," said Carewyn. "Meet me in the Atrium at 5 o'clock, and I'll Side-Along-Apparate you there."

Tristan blinked. "You're coming along?"

"Only to drop you off inside Mum's house," Carewyn said as she turned to go. "She doesn't want you knowing her address."

"Because she thinks I'll tell Father?" Carewyn could practically hear the resentful, sulky posture in Tristan's voice. "Honestly -- I already told you, I'm not telling him anything! Or do you think I'm lying? You know you can sense my thoughts, right?"

"I do," said Carewyn, "and yes, I know you're not lying. But Mum has become a recluse for a reason: she doesn't want anyone knowing her address, except for Judy, Jacob, and me. You should be glad Mum's all right with you visiting her home in the first place."

She smiled a bit wryly over her shoulder before walking off.

"Piece of advice: shut up and let her talk, and you might actually learn something. It's something your father has never learned how to do."

x~x~x~x

After work, Tristan met Carewyn in the Atrium, whereupon she Side-Along-Apparated him to Lane Cromwell's new, secluded cottage in Tintagel, Cornwall.

Tintagel was a quaint locale near the far western shore of southern Britain, best known for its castle being identified by Geoffrey of Monmouth as the residence of the legendary King Arthur. Although the village itself was prone to the predictable amounts of tourism, Lane herself had chosen a small cottage in the outskirts of town, hidden from view both by the bounding hills and some strategically placed enchantments, for optimal privacy.

It was certainly the smallest home Tristan had ever visited. He felt like the whole place probably could've fit inside the grand dining hall at Cromwell Manor with no difficulty. He was also startled by the strange smells that greeted his nose when he and Carewyn arrived.

"Mum, we're here," called Carewyn.

Tristan heard the quietest shred of a voice answer from the kitchen, but couldn't make out what it said. Carewyn, however, seemed to have no trouble making it out, for she turned to Tristan with her hands on her hips.

"All right, then, I'm off -- Orion's expecting me at home," she said in a business-like voice. "Behave yourself, Tristan."

Tristan scowled. "Don't treat me like a child -- I'm to be Head of all the Cromwells, soon enough..."

"Not of me, nor of Mum," Carewyn reminded him. Nonetheless she gave him a muted pat to his back. "Remember what I said before -- listen to her."

As she turned to go, she called over her shoulder.

"I'm going now, Mum! Love you!"

Once again, there was the very slightest quiet call back that Tristan could only partially make out as including "love you too," before Carewyn disappeared with a crack.

Tristan looked around the small cottage, his blue eyes narrowed.

What an absolute hovel, he couldn't help but think.

It was clean, he supposed, and it wasn't cluttered, but everything just looked so...worn. Not even old and historical, like the kind of grand tables and armchairs back at the Cromwell Manor -- just tired, used, and lived-in. The furniture was very slightly outdated, the couches had minor stains and were frayed at the corners, and there were claw marks and fur on just about everything. Every window was wide open and framed with white plastic blinds and wooden shutters instead of curtains, and rather than portraits, there were countless personal photographs on the walls that -- rather bizarrely -- didn't move.

It was weird how a space could be so quiet while still so full of sounds: muted steps on tiles, birds singing outside the window, wind rustling a wind chime, a muffled radio broadcast...nothing so unpolished and quaint ever echoed through the grand, endless halls of the Cromwell Manor.

"Mrrow."

Tristan looked down to see a skinny ginger tabby cat walking around near his legs, blinking up at him with bright orange eyes. The Cromwell heir stared blankly down at him.

"What do you want?"

The cat rubbed up against his legs, leaving fur all over Tristan's black trousers. Tristan couldn't help but smirk.

"Spreading pheromones, then?" he asked. "Reckon I'm in your space, so you've got to make sure you're asserting your dominance."

The ginger cat purred.

Tristan hesitated, glancing around furtively. Then, bending down, he actually reached out and tentatively ran his hand over the cat's head.

As much as Tristan had always enjoyed studying animal anatomy, he wasn't used to having any animals around, especially furry ones. The closest thing to a pet that Tristan had growing up was a fake dog skeleton that he'd dressed in a collar and an ugly Christmas sweater and called "Funny Bone."

"His name is Tigger."

Tristan only just barely made out the soft voice of Lane Cromwell that time, and it turned out to be because she'd silently ended up right behind him. He jumped back up to his feet, straightening up at once, as his still-blond, way-too-Muggle-dressed 63-year-old aunt put down a tea tray on the side table by the window.

Tristan cleared his throat, putting on his most detached affect.

"...Don't you mean 'Tiger?'"

"No -- he's named after a stuffed tiger from a Muggle children's book," Lane said amusedly.

Tristan's nose wrinkled at the word "Muggle." Although he'd been forced to work with people from less magical backgrounds through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, he'd still, true to all members of the Cromwell Clan, retained a distinct wariness of Muggles.

Tigger almost immediately wound around Lane's legs, and she stroked his back several times in return before she settled down in one of the armchairs (the one closest to the window) and indicated the other.

"Now then," she said, her voice as quiet as ever. "My Winnie told me that you had some questions about our family."

"Winnie" was Lane's nickname exclusively for Carewyn, same as "Blue Jay" or "Jay" was for Jacob. Lane's siblings Blaise, Pearl, and Claire, however, had co-opted her nickname for Carewyn without permission -- something that even now irked Carewyn to no end.

Tristan inclined his head respectfully before taking a seat. He eyed the chair confusedly when it compressed under him -- he was used to much stiffer chairs at home.

"...Yes. I aim to chart a direction for the Clan, as future Head. Unfortunately there are difficulties in our family that Father has had trouble addressing -- therefore I can't follow his example. And I can't go back a generation, or else I would be following Grandfather's example."

Lane's expression darkened visibly.

"Anyone foolish enough to follow Charles Cromwell's example in anything would deserve the unhappiness they'd receive for it," she said quietly.

Tristan frowned uncomfortably. "Yeah, I reckoned your side of the family would think so. And truthfully, however well Father speaks of Grandfather, I don't have any interest in ending up in Azkaban for the rest of my life. So I need to go back further, if I'm to find any example of leadership for me to take inspiration from."

He fetched something shiny and gold out of the inside of his robes and held it out for Lane to take.

"I wanted to ask about Grandfather's parents, to start with. These are them, aren't they?"

Lane looked at the pair of linked, enchanted photographs -- one of an older gentleman with a thin mustache trying and failing to make eye contact and smile at the other portrait, that of a much younger and more glamorous woman who kept looking out of frame.

"Yes," said Lane, as she considered the portraits. "That's Angus Cromwell, on the left -- and his wife, Isabelle Selwyn-Cromwell, on the right."

"And Angus was head of the family before Grandfather?" presumed Tristan as he looked down at Angus's portrait. "What was his leadership like? Did Grandfather take after him? He -- "

It was only when Tristan noticed Lane was holding up a hand that he realized she'd been trying to talk.

"No," she reiterated for the third time, even if it was the first time Tristan had heard her. "Your great-grandfather was never Head of the Cromwell Clan."

Tristan's brows furrowed. "What? But how can that be, all of the eldest Cromwell men have been -- !"

He halted mid-word. Carewyn's words from before returned to his mind.

"Shut up and let her talk, and you might actually learn something."

Tristan quickly closed his mouth. Then, inclining his head respectfully, he held out a hand to Lane as if giving her silent permission to explain. Lane's expression seemed to relax ever-so-slightly, and she set about pouring out a cup of tea by hand, rather than with her wand.

"Your grandfather Charles," she said stiffly, "was not the eldest Cromwell son, in his generation. He was the youngest. Yet despite all odds, he convinced his grandfather -- Angus's father, Sinclair Cromwell -- to choose him as his successor...bypassing not only Sinclair's own son, but his older two grandsons as well."

Tristan's brows knit together tightly over his eyes. "I didn't know Grandfather had any brothers..."

Lane smiled a bit cynically. "That's unsurprising. Both of them died before I was born, so your father certainly never met them. He and I never even met Angus -- he passed away the year Claire was born. And Isabelle...well, she was an immature sort. I suppose she saw us more like china dolls my father was collecting than grandchildren she could share stories with."

She poured out a second cup of tea for Tristan.

"It's funny -- Isabelle was just as 'style over substance' as your grandmother Marilyn...and yet the two always detested each other. Perhaps that's a statement unto itself, though. Milk or sugar?"

"Oh, ah...both!" said Tristan. Tea was always prepared without either sugar or milk back at the Cromwell Manor, so the thought of having both was actually a rare treat that made Tristan grin mischievously despite himself.

Lane mixed both milk and sugar into Tristan's tea before handing the cup to him.

"Sounds like Great-Grandfather wasn't anything that impressive, then," said Tristan scornfully, "if he got passed over in favor of his own son."

Lane frowned slightly. "Mm, well, Angus had gotten a bit complacent. He'd ended up with a beautiful young wife and three exceptional sons without much effort...so I daresay he did what many men from wealthy households do: they got too comfortable and started to take things for granted. The eldest Cromwell son had always inherited the role of Head of the Clan before, so Angus expected he would as well."

"Hn..." Tristan said with a frown. Considering he himself had assumed the same thing before, he supposed it made sense that Angus had too. Even so, the boy still scoffed. "Whatever. Great-Grandfather still sounds like an idiot."

"He wasn't an idiot -- just privileged," Lane said mildly. "And admittedly there were a few unpleasant rumors surrounding his young wife and her many male admirers that Angus might've been a little more focused on squashing than on actively catering to his father."

Tristan's blue eyes flashed angrily. "That's a dirty, rotten lie! Father told me that people were just jealous of Grandfather and his talents, and that's why they tried to call him a bastard."

"Oh, I wouldn't doubt if people were leery of your grandfather's talent, especially for Legilimency and Occlumency," said Lane lightly. "But the rumors wouldn't have taken off the way they did, had your grandfather not looked so dramatically different from both his parents and his brothers. He remains the only one of them to have inherited the 'Cromwell blue eyes' that all of us have...a genetic oddity, for every single descendant of one man to inherit such a rare recessive trait."

Tristan crossed his arms. He didn't like this line of discussion at all. Yes, obviously the Cromwell blue eyes would have to be a recessive trait, biologically speaking, but no matter how odd it was that every single member of the Cromwell family starting with Charles all seemed to have the same eyes, it was sickening to consider his grandfather could've been a bastard, given those eyes via enchantment in an attempt to obscure that truth. It made Tristan feel illegitimate himself, in a way -- as if he hadn't been born and raised to take on the responsibility that he knew had to fall to him. That he was determined to take on, for the sake of his father and family...

Lane paused before she spoke again.

"...Would you like to see your grandfather's brothers? I have pictures of them."

Tristan blinked, but nodded. Once Lane had eased herself out of her chair, she crossed the room, Tigger at her heels. She took several framed photographs off of the library shelf and brought them over for Tristan to see.

"This here," she said, handing him the second-largest, "is your great-uncle Henry. He was the eldest son. He would've likely been your great-grandfather Angus's choice to succeed him, had Angus become head of the Clan. He was a Gryffindor alumnus, like your great-grandmother Isabelle -- athletic, broad-shouldered, and stoic...enamored with his family's history, honor, and the ideal of noblesse oblige."

"Sounds like he had a real stick up his arse," Tristan muttered sardonically against the rim of his cup.

Surprisingly, though, this actually seemed to amuse Lane.

"Most accounts I've read of Henry remind me of your aunt Pearl, growing up," she said with a tiny wry smile.

Tristan couldn't help it -- he snorted with laughter into his tea.

"Oh, Merlin," he said smugly, wiping his face on his sleeve, "if he's like Aunt Pearl, then he must've been insufferable!"

Lane smiled a bit more fully. "He was considered to be rather difficult to befriend."

She served out another saucer with just milk and put it down on the carpet at her feet for Tigger to lap at. Tristan considered Henry's detached, uncomfortably stiff posture. He did indeed look nothing like Charles -- his face was square like Angus's and he had very tiny eyes.

"Guess I can see why Great-Grandfather didn't pick him," Tristan said coolly. "Who'd want someone that uptight calling the shots?"

Lane's face grew more serious.

"Oh, that wasn't the reason Sinclair didn't pick Henry," she said with a sigh. "No, he wasn't picked because he was disowned."

Tristan was taken aback.

"Henry fell in love with a Muggle woman and secretly married her after she became pregnant. He wanted to provide for her, but he knew that if his family learned the truth, it would both put her in danger and give him no means to financially provide for her and their son." Lane's lips came together as she sipped some of her own tea. "Not that he ended up keeping it secret very long...your grandfather made sure of that."

Tristan frowned uncomfortably.

"...Well, it wasn't right that he did it, you know," he said defensively, "Uncle Henry, I mean. He never should've disgraced himself, saddling himself with a filthy Mug -- "

"He chose to financially support the woman and son that he loved," Lane said in such a quiet, cold voice that it was akin to ice. "However 'uptight' he might've been, that is worth applauding."

Tristan scowled. "I suppose you'd have to think so, given that you also married below yourself."

Lane raised her eyebrows very coolly before withdrawing to the kitchen, Tigger following promptly behind her.

Knowing he'd offended his aunt but way too proud to out-right apologize for it, Tristan tried to change the subject.

"...So Grandfather told the rest of the Clan about Uncle Henry marrying a Muggle, and that's why he wasn't picked as heir?"

"That," said Lane, "and the fact that he was dead, soon after."

Tristan's brows furrowed. When Lane returned to the living room, Tigger once again at her heels, she was holding a plate of pikelets and jam, which she also put down on the side table.

"Henry was found in the local river a week after he was disowned by the Clan. His reputation had been destroyed with the whole of Wizarding society at that time, to the point that no one at the Ministry or otherwise would hire him. Without any means to support his family, Henry fell into such despair that he drowned himself. Or at least, that's what the common consensus was. The investigation was haphazard. It wasn't as bad as the one into Francis's accident, but still, it was far from detailed."

Tristan frowned. "Francis?"

Lane indicated the smallest picture.

"Francis Cromwell. He was your grandfather's second-eldest brother."

Tristan squinted. It was considerably blurrier than the others, since the subject kept moving, but his pale, smirking, dark-eyed face was framed by a mane of black hair.

"His hair's as almost as messed up as Jacob's," Tristan said cheekily.

Lane blinked in surprise and considered the picture. Then she actually laughed: it was a very hushed, stifled sound.

"Well, no, Jay's always most resembled his father -- but I suppose, yes, there is the slightest resemblance..."

Lane smiled down at the picture of Francis as she helped herself to a pikelet, spreading some jam onto it with a knife.

"Uncle Francis was my favorite to research," she admitted. Tigger jumped up beside her on the armchair, curling up against her leg. "He was a Hufflepuff alumnus, same as Angus, but he was the most interesting of the brothers. Certainly not academic by any means, but he was still widely considered to be resourceful, creative, talented -- a true jack of all trades. He was Vice President of the Gobstones Club and a capable cook. He captained the Hufflepuff Quidditch team for a term after their original captain fell ill of Dragon Pox, and he ended up winning his house the Quidditch Cup that year. He studied French, German...even Gobbledegook, so as to better haggle favorable loans with Gringotts' goblins. Not to mention he was a conductor for the Frog Choir his entire school career. He even briefly worked as a magical creature assistant for Newt Scamander while he worked at the Ministry of Magic."

Tristan's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yes," said Lane eagerly. "Oh, and his artwork. Francis was absolutely exceptional with a pencil."

She paused, her eyes drifting back to the side table.

"...In fact...this was one of his."

Lane finished off the pikelet before reaching out for the last, largest framed picture, which had been face-down on the table. When Tristan took it from her, he was surprised to find not a photograph like the others, but a framed and very detailed pencil sketch of a handsome young man with chiseled features, a dark mustache and beard, and incredibly piercing, light-colored, almond-shaped eyes.

"Do you recognize him?" asked Lane. "That's your grandfather."

Tristan was bowled over. "That's him?!"

He looked down at the sketch again. Even though it wasn't enchanted, it was amazing just how sharp the young Charles's eyes were -- almost as if they were looking right through Tristan, at that very moment. It made the Cromwell heir twitch a bit in his seat despite himself.

"He looks so...young," he said awkwardly. "All the pictures I've seen of Grandfather are of him when he was older."

Lane seemed to empathize with Tristan's discomfort. As she took the portrait back, she regarded the pencil sketch with notable detachment.

"I know. Your uncle Francis sketched that in the summer of 1940, when your grandfather Charles was freshly 22."

As old as I am, Tristan noted. That knowledge felt really weird.

"It was an engagement present," Lane continued as she put the portrait back down on the side table, "to commemorate his engagement to the newly graduated Slytherin Head Girl, Marilyn Bulstrode. Francis told Charles he also intended to draw one of Marilyn to complete the set, once he could convince her to model for him."

Lane's eyes grew a little smaller as her hand absently scratched at the side of Tigger's neck.

"Not that he got the chance. While working at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Francis recruited Charles -- the best Legilimens he knew -- to help him deal with a wild Wampus cat he'd been asked to recapture from a Dark wizard who'd been collecting dangerous magical cats off the black market. With his younger brother's help, he succeeded -- but the Wampus cat, after seemingly being safely contained, went wild and not only got loose of its cage, but also let several other wild cats loose in the melee...including a Nundu."

Tristan's eyes widened in shock.

"A Nundu's breath is poisonous enough to take out a whole town!" he said. "How did Grandfather -- ?"

"Oh, your grandfather reacted fast enough to Apparate to safety," Lane said very curtly. "Francis, for some reason, did not. There's still a lot of question about why. But your great-uncle was smarter than people gave him credit for -- he materialized a Bubble-Head Charm around his head, which saved his life. What he didn't predict, though, was just how noxious the Nundu's breath is at close proximity, even when it can't be breathed in through the nose and mouth. And most unfortunately, Francis had sustained several deep cuts on his arms and legs while trying to contain the Wampus. This resulted in the toxins in the Nundu's breath making it into Francis's blood stream...poisoning his limbs from the inside-out."

The anatomist in Tristan was macabrely fascinated, but he'd just taken one of the pikelets from the plate and spread some jam on it so he could try it. To his surprise, it was really tasty, and he got so distracted with spreading some more jam on it and gobbling it up that he neglected to articulate any of the demented questions going through his head.

"Your great-uncle was taken to St. Mungo's, but it was too late," said Lane. "He ended up paralyzed from the neck down -- unable to move and in excruciating pain."

Tristan winced. "Ooh. So that's why Great-Grandfather passed over him?"

Lane nodded grimly. "Your great-uncle languished in St. Mungo's for the next five years, after that. Your great-grandparents did visit occasionally, from what I understand...but after his accident, and especially after Charles took over, Francis was largely brushed aside by the Clan. He was seen as an embarrassment, rather than an asset. Regardless of his talents -- regardless of how well-liked he'd been at school by his classmates and how much potential he'd had...in St. Mungo's, he was seen solely as an invalid, and therefore not worth anyone's time."

Lane looked down at the blurry photograph of the smirking young man again grimly.

"In fact, that photograph is the only one I've ever been able to find of Francis. A witch who'd looked after him in St. Mungo's before her retirement sent it to me, when I reached out to her by owl. She said she'd retrieved it from a box of belongings he'd kept on his bedside table, after he passed away."

Tristan finished his second pikelet, licking the jam from his fingers. Then, remembering his manners, he quickly cleaned off his hands with his handkerchief before he reached out to take Francis's picture again.

He looked determined, actually. His black hair was messy and his shirt was ripped, and yet his collar was fully buttoned, his posture was straight, and his pale, pointed face was fearless. Almost as if he was ready to take on any challenge thrown his way.

Lane tilted her head slightly, watching her nephew look over his great-uncle's picture.

"You know..." she said thoughtfully with a slight smile, "...I don't think Francis looks very much like my Blue Jay at all. I really think he looks more like you."

Tristan looked up at her in surprise. He then looked back down at the photograph of Francis, which smirked up at him, and he saw his own smirking reflection in the glass of the frame.

"...Hm. Reckon he looked a lot uglier after his accident."

Lane cringed visibly at the off-color humor, but Tristan pressed on, undeterred.

"You said Uncle Francis worked at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, right? D'you reckon there might be some additional information about him in their files?"

"Possibly," granted Lane. "Or, at least, there may be files he worked on -- the Ministry wasn't as good at filing work under individual people back then, since such efforts were often collaborative. And since Francis was never Head of the Department, a lot of those such files might be filed under the men he worked under."

Tristan smirked. "Well, then, I shall require as much information as you can give me about the chain of command at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the 1930's, while Great-Uncle Francis worked there!"

Remembering himself, he then cleared his throat and added,

"...For pay, of course. Name your price."

Lane smiled wryly, her hand running over the purring Tigger at her side. "My standard rate is a Galleon an hour. To unearth a bit more about my favorite uncle, however...I may be willing to halve that -- provided I get first dibs on any photographs or sketches of Francis's that might be recovered?"

Tristan smirked broadly from ear to ear. "It's a deal!"

[savrenim]

SO it is the last week of January but you know what it's Been A Fucking Hell Month In This House so we are getting to our new year's goals post today and that's fine it's still January so it still counts

2023 was a wild year for me just in terms of oh gods I have never played with such high stakes before in my life in so many things and for so long and with such eroded or in some cases totally nonexistent safety nets, I got to the end of it arguably much better off than the beginning, just for the latter half almost totally at the expense of Doing Anything My Writing For Me. so in light of that, I've got some tentative 2024 goals, namely:

get a final draft of Opus into copyediting stage (stretch goal: actually publish it!)

write at least 20k words of another original project 

finish and publish at least one existing fanfic

publish all the mostly written but unpolished and unedited things I have sitting around in my writing folder 

I have no idea how I am going to make this happen, given that my household is still attempting to make up moving costs from last summer and rip we have just been hit with massive vet bills for the most beloved member of the household which means that I need to hustle the fuck out of working all of the hours that I can what is free time and sleep. it also means that I literally can't afford to put my patreon on hiatus, so at the very least there will be regular updates and drafts posted there. said patreon in 2023 is responsible for a solid half of the next chapter of ifmlam already written and the rest on the way, the final chapter of ttbotr in its 'being polished' stage, and the wind, the wind, the wind (lesbian Hadestown in space one-shot) being a scene and a bit of editing away from being ready to go. 

the absolute DREAM for this next year would be to able to rely on writing as a legitimate source of supplemental income instead of something that I need to carve out of free time that I may or may not have, and, you know, actually write A Whole Bunch More. given that I'm devoting 2024 to trying to get some of my original writing off the ground, I wanted to actually showcase some of my original writing too! My three biggest projects are:

1. Opus I: feral seer assassin pretending to be a bodyguard came out here to fight things and is honestly having such a good time right now; extremely tired diplomat saddled with her did not want to come out here in the first place and is having about the time you'd imagine with that. read the first scene here.

2. The Heart and The Heartless: shonen anime of a to-be-posted-as-a-web-serial about a bunch of gay teenagers going to sorcery school and learning how to fight Revenants, and their even more gay even more tired teachers dealing with trying to ensure that their childhoods aren't as bad as said teachers' were. read the first scene here.

3. The Numanok Files: series of novellas that follow a bounty hunter taking cases as she helps colonies and space stations deal with ghosts; half the time home inspection style it's a carbon monoxide leak or faulty wiring reacting to solar flares or alien fungi but half the time it Is In Fact Ghosts. read the first scene here.

Links lead to free posts of the first chapters/ scenes of them on my patreon. I appreciate any support in trying to, you know, actually keep writing this year. and expect to see this post reblogged with updates every month or so so that I can motivate myself via bragging about progress!

[rabbit-surfboard]

Lots more consumption since last effortpost. Being unemployed during the summer is a lot of fun, I've been riding my bike and doing so so much cooking and visiting home and still had time to watch many a show! I even got back into reading for the first time since high school.

The first physical book I've been reading in literal years is Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake (what an absolutely sick name). I picked a lucky one, it's not often that a book causes a significant paradigm shift and rarer still that you get to appreciate it in the first quarter of the book. I've learned a lot about modern mycology from the famous contemporary mycologist Paul Stamets, and I appreciate his perspective of fungi as chemical factories, with particular inputs and outputs. It's useful, and Stamets shows off the power of this idea with his work in mycoremediation and other real world applications, but I find it reductive. Sheldrake emphasizes a more holistic approach throughout his aptly named book, and focuses most on how organisms engage with each other in an ecosystem.

I'm an electrical engineer by trade so all of the science I typically engage with is abstract physics stuff, not abstract biology stuff. While it would be silly to assume that Ms. Irwin's 7th grade biology class (the sum total of my education in that area) was comprehensive and entirely accurate, one of the incomplete facts I'd been holding onto for far too long was that a lichen is a symbiotic pairing between algae and fungus. In my favorite chapter so far from Entangled Life, Sheldrake summarizes many ideas from an academic paper with one of my favorite titles ever: Queer Theory for Lichens. It's worth a read but the book version is definitely easier, if less detailed. The point is the same though -- while you can introduce a single fungus and a single algae and get them to form a lichen in a lab, the lichens found in nature are so much more complicated. Typical species often have multiple fungal or algal symbionts, and even have bacterial components that help them work, kind of like us with our guts. It makes lichen extra hard to characterize and opens up the fun question of What is an organism? from a philosophical angle of asking whether an organism is an individual. Are you really you with a completely different set of gut flora?

[trivalentlinks]

oh <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

sorry it took me a while to get back to you, but honestly i don't have much to add; i just love the mycologist so much, and needed to tell someone about it

i, too, hurt myself thinking about what would have happened if her plan had actually worked, but i love that the plan not working (or maybe they didn't actually do it? i i didn't catch all the details) doesn't make the sacrifice she was willing to make any less grave or less brave

also, like, this academic dedicated her life to studying fungi; she probably loves them and finds them really cool...

and then she sees the corpse and you can see the gears turning in her head and then, for a while, the next few hours, she alone in the world understands what is happening and all its implications, the horror of it, leaving her terrified and alone and so, so brave

.

also i have so much love for the way ellie talks about reading about hotels, i really appreciate that this show thought through what a child born after the apocalypse would be like, how they would think and operate in entirely different ways from someone who came of age before the world ended

how it sometimes them being jaded, having learned from an early age not to feel safe anywhere, not to put much value on human life,

but at the same time, they're still children, still have that childlike wonder at the world

.

isn't tess amazing???

i love her so much, i love that the way she and joel support each other, the way she understands him so well and understands what she needs to say to help him control his anger and direct it in a productive direction,

and yes, i love that this woman is hardened by many long, post-apocalyptic years, (shown not just in her strength, but also in the greying hair, the weathered face, etc) yet she still has so much hope in the end

.

(also, wow, you actually watch the horror scenes? i'll be honest i tend to start skipping ahead when things get tense--i'm wimpy about horror

though i feel like this show mostly doesn't have that much horror; like they're living in a scary world and there are long, tense scenes, i haven't felt like i lost that much by skipping them, you know?

(the lighter scene i did watch all the way through, though. that was so intense.)

thoughts on The Last Of Us episode two, roughly as it happens in the ep:

[thoughts on episode 1]

— another episode, another mycologist! this professor is dignified and puzzled and it's such a strange change from the postapoc action of the previous episode. I'll be glad to see some blanks filled in though.

— the mounting tension and knowing fear in the examination scene is intense, and the actors are showing it brilliantly. there's a lot of discomfort, too, in the candid display of a corpse that still looks so whole and healthy - before the pandemic gets so bad that no-one can hope for a decent burial, back when it still raises serious questions to see someone with a bullethole in their forehead.

— the moment when someone who knows exactly how scared they should be loses their composure and gets the fuck out of there? that's the moment you know to be really afraid.

— she is just a professor - not military, not in a specialty (at least I think) that devotes as much thought to pandemics as others do, and she is scared. she's on a nice domestic sofa holding a teacup and saucer and she's visibly uncomfortable even thinking about what she knows.

— we already know how this is gonna go. it shouldn't be so affecting to learn that they've lost track of the first people infected. it probably should be so terrifying, actually, to see the people in charge admitting they're not on top of things.

— "bomb."

— yeah, that was a hell of a choice.

— "start bombing. bomb this city, and everyone in it."

— I'm looking over the scene again to get the quotes right, and paying more attention to the side characters 'cos @trivalentlinks mentioned enjoying them in this show, and gosh, yeah. these two are both so nakedly scared - the fear of someone who knows they can't do anything, and the fear of someone who has to anyway - and it's horrible.

— and I have to wonder. if they'd taken her advice sooner, could the pandemic have been prevented? how would she have been remembered, if they did? (how would the country have been judged by the rest of the world?) she's an expert and she's terrified and she's willing to doom a city, including herself and her family, to save the rest of the world, and it would be so easy for her to be framed as a monster.

— heavy stuff, folks. we're nine minutes in and my brain is humming.

— and her bravery, and her humanity, and her fear; and her request not to spend any more time explaining exactly why they're doomed but rather to let her spend her last hours with her family.

— cue gorgeous gross fungus growth intro. a bad time to be eating noodles and a worse time to realise that the camera's slowing down on something suddenly recognisable as a skull.

— I recognise the tests aren't quite the same, but this really seems like a crap world to have a stroke in.

— if we needed confirmation that joel didn't plan to punch that guard, here it is. how afraid and out of control must you be to fracture something in your own hand without stopping? how uncomfortable must that loss of control be for him?

— tess' move here, where she talks to ellie like an adult, is interesting. I've seen scenes like that before that felt like a threat, or like an adult refusing to take responsibility that they should - and this is both of those things, but it doesn't feel like it. it feels like a genuine attempt to get the information they need and give ellie the information she needs to make a good choice. but I don't know if that's just tess' strange brand of tricky honesty again.

— I do like it though. because the options are joel and tess being harsh and callous behind ellie's back, or it's joel and tess being harsh and callous and giving ellie a chance to know about it and help make their decisions. as much as she should be protected anyway.

— ellie's "if she so much as twitches..." "[strangled zombie sounds]" joke here is both very stupid and entirely justified

— "well it's the long way or the we're fucking dead way." "well I vote long way, just based on that limited information." oh tess and ellie are fun <3

— overgrown cities look so cool though.

— how weird must it be to climb over long-dead cars? they used to be something, a part of everyone's lives, and now they're just scenery. part of their old world still right there beside them but so far away.

— ellie: "so there aren't super-infected that explode spores on you?" tess, totally relaxed: "shit, I hope not."

— whoever decided that infected cry out, fox-like, in the distance, I salute you. there may also be a rude gesture involved.

— genuinely scarier that it was far away and just one cry, that they've been okay so far but they're still wary and still have to keep moving. I think they're not scared enough that that was a hunting cry. so it's just... a thing infected do, sometimes.

— oh. oh that's kind of a sad thought.

— JAUNTY MYSTERY SOUNDS ON A PIANO

— JAUNTY PIANO FROG

— I am in love, I am enchanted with our frog friend, I actually happy-stimmed a little. nothing in this is going to beat piano frog friend for me.

— "you're a weird kid." "you're a weird kid."

— this very believable idea of a generation of kids who learned about things like hotels from books, the way I learned about boarding schools. it's sweet. it's strange.

— ellie stroppily taking joel's hand and letting it go quickly after; joel glancing down at it, bloody-knuckled still, slightly broken still - it's a contrast. there's so much angst in the hands and the things they do and are capable of.

— I don't know if ellie learned this kind of grown-up smalltalk from books too but I do love her attitude

— the writhing rippling bodies, holy shit

— THEY'RE A NETWORK. HOW LOVELY. sarcastically but also genuinely that's kind of lovely. and I dig that tess' explanation both shows that and takes the time to make sure ellie understands the danger.

— sidenote but I keep going oooh at tess' hair because it's so nice to actually see a woman going grey, it's really pretty

— joel please don't touch the cordyceps. yes this is good and useful information to have about the fungus drying up but it's also DEEPLY GROSS

— I really don't like the grown-ups not knowing what's up or what killed a dude

— I've seen the odd spoiler on here, right? mostly from the games. and I haven't heard of tess. I'm not sure she's gonna survive like I am about the other two. and that means I am at several times wondering if she's going to die here.

— I HATE THIS. I hate this a lot. at some point during this extended terror scene I had to pause to call my friend a bastard and also put socks on so my feet didn't feel as vulnerable. did I mention I'm bad with horror

— the "if you panic, they'll hear you, so don't panic" situation is fucking evil. I was previously unaware this could extend to "load your gun quietly or else you're dead."

— they're clicking. they're fucking clicking. they're blind and they're clicking I REALLY DON'T WANT THESE TO HAVE ECHOLOCATION. PLEASE.

— you know how shooting rabid animals in the head can aerosolise the infection. I wish I wasn't thinking about that.

— I looked up the tess-taping-her-ankle thing and found half the comments were ppl who were also puzzled and half were like "duh, she sprained her ankle, are you even paying attention?" so probably that's a genuine treatment for sprains I'd just never heard about.

— the almost desperate way she told joel to just take this win? yeah, I think she might not be okay.

— joel checking his watch. the poor bastard. I think looking out over the city and talking to ellie felt a little too familiar there.

— tess hurrying into the building and dragging ellie in front of her? yeah, she's panicking. I do think she wants to get this done before she starts really showing symptoms.

— "I never ask you for anything, not to feel the way I felt-" fuck

— this feels like a lower ratio of infected to story than most zombie stories. they travelled an entire city, went to great pains to avoid them, encountered two, and two of their three people got bitten. it's an interesting change.

— AND AS SOON AS I SAY THAT. THERE'S A FUCKING STAMPEDE.

— "save who you can save." okay, this right there? tess knows him very well. 'cos that's been his strategy from the moment this started. and she's giving him that push, I think, so he can snap back into that mode and actually leave her there to die. or so he'd find it easier to do.

— this is fucking horrible.

— I have never been so scared of a faulty lighter. what's scary, what's really scary here? is the thought that she's going to die not on her own terms, that she's not going to be able to play the last card she has to play, that she's not going to die relatively quickly but would instead be ripped apart.

— ...or kept alive as part of the cordyceps network. I think that's what the "kiss" was about - the way the fungus always seems to sprout out of the mouth in the later stages, the proximity to the brain, her maybe being recognised as infected but not yet connected to the others, which is a thing the others can fix. it's a watsonian explanation, at least. it's horrible.

— but she gets to play the last card she has to play. made of steel, to the end. if I were wearing a hat I'd be taking it off.

— last time they had an encounter with infected, two of their three got bitten. they can't risk that happening again. not with the likelihood that joel's going to be even more protective now, with delivering ellie safely his only goal, and still his only way to get to tommy. they are going to have to be so careful. and that's going to be interesting to see.

[twstedstoryshop]

And, I'd like to make a request, since I like your writing! :D

I'd like to request a platonical headcanons with Sebek, Jade and Rook with reader who is "an invisible student", but also great listener, sort of situation where guys talk about their interests loudly, and not too much people are interested in that, but reader is just sitting quietly somewhere in the corner in class, and when noticed by boys just asks "and what happend next?" sort of things, which implies they were listening from the beginning. I don't ask for exactly this scenario, but the request is more of "How would these three students react to that kind of student/would they like to be friends with this student?"

It's kind of long explanation, sorry for that, I'm not too good at it!

You're a-okay! Hopefully this collection of headcanons was alright for your request! -Shopkeep

Sebek, Jade, and Rook With An "Invisible" But Attentive Friend Headcanons

It’s no secret that Sebek doesn’t really have a good rapport with his fellow classmates. The only people he really ever gets along with are those in Diasomnia and the first year gang. One of those first years being you. For better or for worse, you tend to fade in the background.

Sometimes it helps with getting out of trouble when the teachers completely overlook you but other times, you often get left behind until someone points it out. Whether it bothers you a bunch or not is up to you.

One thing is sure though that you are a keen observer, hearing everything that goes in and out the campus. One of the many things you hear is Sebek’s usual bellowing.

You already see a number of students trying their best to tune out Sebek’s shouts, some making an occasional snide remark that he needs to shut up, but once Sebek is on a roll, there’s no way of stopping his rants.

His monologues range from praises to Malleus to the lessons he has learned training under Lilia. One day he had gone off on a lecture about Malleus’ grand ideas and you remarked in a very quiet voice, “He sounds very wise even though he’s still growing for a fae…”

Many eyes, including Sebek’s, land on the usually silent student. You actually listened to that whole thing? However Sebek gets excitable, nodding vigorously in your direction. “Right!? He has such an amazing vision! He’s ahead of our time!”

Sebek would not stop in his praises for Malleus and you just happily continue to listen, nodding along with only the occasional comment. From that point on, Sebek’s opinion of you would shoot up. He sees now that though you are a person of little words, you actually do listen and while he might not admit, it really makes him happy that someone is willing to hear him out.

He tries to bring you into conversation whenever the first year gang gathers and will make it VERY clear that you are speaking when you try to have your voice be heard. Like, “EVERYONE SILENCE, the Prefect is speaking!” And gives you the floor.

While he does carry most conversations, Sebek makes an effort to hear out your tiny comments and finds your input valuable as anybody else’s.

Jade’s mind is one of mystery and intrigue. No one is really sure what goes on inside his mind behind his gentlemanly facade and unreadable smile. One can never be too sure if his intentions are truly benevolent or with a catch. But there is one thing that has the Vice Dorm Leader animated and it’s fungi.

Shittake, Oysters, Portobello, and Trumpets, the world of mushrooms is vast and so delightful to explore. Combine it with his equal adoration for terrariums and it’s a wonder how Jade is the same cunning right-hand man of Azul.

When he gets in one of his moods, Azul and Floyd are subjected to his rambles that has them both staring into space with vacant eyes. What they weren’t counting on was a quiet customer at Mostro Lounge who heard the entire thing…

Jade paused in his rant when he noticed you’ve been sitting quietly at your booth for a while now and stepped on over to take your order. You placed your order but before Jade could slip away, you ask a question, “Is it really true you can grow bioluminescent mushrooms in a terrarium? I’d love to see it one day…”

Jade nearly breaks his neck from how fast he turned back to you and there’s this near wild look in his eyes. “Would you like to peruse my collection after you eat~?” Someone actually interested in what he loves? And mayhaps wants to explore his interests? He’s not letting this opportunity escape him!

Jade is more than happy to show off his work and go on tangents of all the different species of mushrooms and their uses. If he can rope you in, he is going to happily make you a member of the Mountain Lovers’ Club.

What pleasantly surprises him though is you don’t shy away from his energetic talk that he usually doesn’t show. In fact, you listen and hang onto every word he says, happy to see him happy.

He finds your behavior amusing in a refreshing way and it’s nice to have some company around as he forages for his beloved mushrooms and new materials to make terrariums. Maybe you can make one together when you get back to NRC!

Ah, le chasseur d'amour, one of the more eccentric personalities of NRC. Also the most enigmatic! His flowery words can spill into various topics from moments of beauty to the thrill of the hunt. Not many people can keep up with the guy’s pace as Rook simply just– goes off on what’s on his mind!

He even admits it himself that once a conversation opens, he can bring himself to stop anytime soon. Yet with his instinct, he feels that someone among the crowd of disinterest, a little soul hears him out.

What luck that one day as he was remarking the beauty of a fine morning on campus, did a quiet voice reach his ear. “It is a really lovely day, isn’t it, Rook?” “Ah! So it was you Trickster all this time who has been mon petite auditeur. What a kind soul you are!” He can’t help himself but to pat your head lightly and you just blink up at him, a little confused but happy!

Since then, Rook has often come to you to share some of the things that caught his eye and he makes for pleasant conversation, even if you don’t have much to say. He enjoys that you are attentive to what he says, throwing in a few flourishes to make you chuckle.

Sometimes Rook asks if you would like to go hunting with him one day. Though it’d be more of him hunting while you watch from the sidelines. He’s happy to teach you how to rough it in the wild and survival skills if you’re up for it!

Strengthening their bonds in the heart of nature? Camaraderie forged by the hunt? Quelle beauté! He'd be a fool not to experience this! Only if you are comfortable to join him in an excursion in the forest, of course.

Whatever you two end up doing, Rook enjoys spending time with you and sees that your quiet, but caring nature is something one in a million. To overlook such a beautiful friend simply because they’re quiet would be a foolish mistake.

[biitterscotch]

apple tree with several pigeons

2nd august 2022

day 1 of demark. i am a bit groggy. these last fuck knows how many hours has been a lot. in dangerous situations there's the fight or flight responses, however i realize my response falls in between. in some of the most intense moments of my life i've found myself so still. as if i am not afraid to face the challenge, but am too afraid of whatever consequences my actions may have. point is i feel frozen as everything moves around me. i can only take in and let my seriously outdated processor do its thing. things have been difficult to appreciate. i see how beautiful denmark is but i am afraid to let it all in. im still so in love with virginia. my love for virginia greatly blossomed since april when i spoke to a park service man. he talked about how he visited the state years ago and fell in love with the landscape. the abundance of vegetation and little creatures and odd weather and fungi. everything is green. i love the way sun shines through trees leaves like a stained glass ceiling, the glow radiates something special. breathing is like sipping on the smoothest golden apple juice. i shall surround myself in green while im here. thank goodness scandanavia is known for its fresh warm interior design.

I have returned for a walk around the area. visited the towncenter with all its shops. i've been here many times so it's nice to get a refresher, recall my buried memories. as we walked i focused on the architecture, as i do anywhere i go. the houses are soooo nice, even the new modern ones are unique from each other. windows are the focal point of each home. in a country where summer days stretch for up to like 16 hours and winter days compress to like 8 hours, it makes sense. not only the sun but the home's surroundings are appreciated. this also makes sense for a welfare state socialist country. what makes this kind of ironic is that despite the inherent connection with your neighbors, common practice is to just keep to yourself. i guess invisible boundaries are respected more. ??? idk i will learn more of the culture.

A teensy predicament (if you could even call it that) is meeting youth of this area. on my walk i encountered numerous teens, mostly duets having their little chit chat. do i want to meet the kids here?? or would i rather wait until i get to roskilde? i guess what's going to happen is i might naturally meet some people and hangout while i'm here. but seeing as i'm with my family and mostly stick around them, this might not happen. will i get sad i missed out on making some neighborhood dansk friends? maybe. though i might be too busy missing other things.

today landing was emotional. i was listening to the come in album by weatherday and thought of the other night sitting in max's car outside of my house, stalling to say goodbye. i had never been inside a prius before, apparently. we were talking about our plans on filling up time after our big moves, things we've already talked about. it was getting really late so i got out of the car to give a hug goodbye. of course we got on a tangent and talked more. we talked about how much we were going to miss each other, how we wished we had more time, how we had only just started to really get to know one another. he says he's going to add dk as a stop when he visits germany again. the goodbyes like these, goodbyes to what could've been, is what kills me.

i've started being more hopeful and optimistic about future potentials. life goes on, and everything will be okay.

[the-rat-house]

✘ Daroach what’s the worst thing that could possibly happen to the Squeak Squad? What steps do you take to avoid tragedy in your adventures. Do you think it will be enough?

✘ Galacta Knight what is the silliest thing you’ve seen in all your years of living? Describe it in detail.

"The worst thing... there is honestly far too many things that could go wrong to pinpoint what would be the worst." He may have been lucky enough to not had experienced too much tragedy in his time of leading the Squeak Squad, but he has certainly thought about it. As the leader, he has to.

"Obviously, the loss of any member weighs heavy on our hearts. But I fear their pain more than their deaths. We are lucky to live in the age that we do, mostly peaceful even when visiting other worlds. Punishments light enough that it is nothing any of us would have to worry about for too long.

But not everywhere is this way. I know people here in Dreamland seeking refuge from horrors worse than the tales in my family's journal, or even what Galacta has told us on rare nights. If any of them were to find themselves in those places and caught..."

He snaps his eyes shut, huffing, forcing away any mental images that threaten to come to mind.

"As such, there are places we do not go. Some treasures are not worth the potential loss. And we are never alone on bigger adventures. Squeakers tend to travel in packs naturally, and are paired with a Squeak to lead them. The only instances where this is not the case is if a Squeak - usually myself - goes out on their own.

So far... it has been enough." He opens his eyes, staring at the ground. "After losing my father, and traveling to try and cope, I learned just how strong people are in numbers. My parents had been more loose with their rules, believing in everyone's independence. As do I, of course. But we would spread ourselves too thin. So I dare not do that now."

---

"The silliest?" This was a bit of a turn from the previous question, but he didn't mind it. Trying to think of such an event was a bit difficult, though. There are just... so many...

"If I had to pick one, I think it would have to be during my training days of the UAC. Of course, many of us were already rather skilled fighters, but there is always more work to be done.

It was when one of our fellows was honing his magic. He had a connection with plants, though he never had a chance to hone it due to coming from a volcanic planet called Magnus. The magic teacher from my youth on Ripple Star - Sir Orea - had joined the cause, and was helping teach about magics connected to nature." He smiles a bit at remembering the old fairy.

"Well, working with plants, they are very versatile you see. Anyone with a garden or general schooling can attest to that. One big thing in plant magic that can be used is spores or other small particles released by plants and fungi in mass amounts. The effects could be as simple as causing temporary blindness to being fatal."

Galacta shakes his head. "I'm rambling... but, ah. One day, this fellow - Astrid I think was his name? He was practicing that exact type of magic. As far as I am aware, they were learning how to summon a plant whose pollen would cause extreme dizzy spells and fainting, as well as cause temporary blindness. Of course, there were safety precautions in place to prevent others from being affected.

Well, Astrid, having tapped into his power that no one seemed to realize he had in excess, messed up the spell. Not only did he summon the wrong plants, but they grew all over the training facility and into our main gardens!"

At this point, Galacta is starting to chuckle. "You know what he did? He summoned a hallucinogen!" Oh no. "That man, with one messed up spell, caused a good portion of those at the base to be higher than a kite!" He's laughing harder now. "Oooh, thank the stars it wasn't any sort of bad reaction! But there were definitely many secrets shared that day between us all, hahaha!"

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

(Please answer asap) i came out as bi to my Catholic parents and they did not react very well, my mom especially. She keeps saying that I don't have enough experience and they don't want to drift apart from me and how she doesn't understand how I can be okay with something so disgusting. She keeps bringing up how uncomfortable she is thinking about intimacy between me and another girl and how I'm too good for something like that. She says she believes that God never makes mistakes and that's making me feel like a mistake. I'm stuck at home and I don't know what to do, I feel so awkward around everyone and I always feel like crying. They don't want us to drift apart but I feel more disconnected from everyone than before

cw: non-accepting parents, homophobia, biphobia 

Oh anon, I am so sorry for your pain. What a terrible situation for your parents to put you in. You deserve all the love and acceptance in the world, and it’s so sad your parents aren’t giving that to you right now. 

You are not alone in this isolating experience -- there are a lot of others in your shoes right now, stuck living with people who say harmful LGBT-phobic things to them. Here’s a post from someone else in such a situation, that includes links to posts that might help you. 

_________ 

To start by addressing some of your parents’ comments:

If your parents say they don’t want y’all to drift apart...

...and then say things to you that make you feel like a mistake or disgusting...any drifting apart that occurs is 100% on them. They are the ones damaging the relationship by saying such hurtful things! This is a them problem, not a you problem; you’ve done nothing wrong.  .

My wife has this same issue with some of her relatives, even after all these years; but she luckily doesn’t live with any of them anymore so it’s easier for her to set boundaries and refuse to engage with them if they pull that nonsense. Her response when she did still live with parents who did this was to tell them she would leave the room any time they said any such things -- that she just would not engage.  .

But yeah, you sharing an aspect of yourself is not the problem in the relationship -- it’s their reactions and cruel comments. I know that doesn’t necessarily make it easier to deal with, especially when your stuck at home with them, but do know this: no matter what they say about your sexuality, you are good. You are so beloved by God just as you are, sexuality included.

You are not a mistake. 

You were fashioned with deep love and purpose by the very same God who created a cosmos brimming with diversity -- with stars and galaxies of myriad sizes and shapes, with this earth teeming with millions of species of animals and plants and fungi and more.... .

God doesn’t make mistakes, and God made you bi! God made you bi with purpose: maybe that purpose is so that one day you can connect to others in our wonderful lgbt+ community who will be you friends and family; maybe to nurture compassion in you for those who are othered in our world; maybe to bring you expansive insight into what it means to love and to be human.... .

You don’t have to understand just yet why God made you this way. Just know that you are beautiful and beloved just as you are -- and that God wills your flourishing, not this pain your parents are bringing to you. While biphobia is a source of pain, bisexuality is not -- it can and it will one day help you bring good fruit to your life and to others. 

You are not disgusting. 

In our culture full of media that treats lgbt characters as the butt of a joke or as predatory and perverted, many people absorb the idea that same-sex sexual activities are more disgusting and less appropriate than “hetero” sexual activities. But again, your mom’s feelings of disgust are a her problem, not a you problem.  .

Having a disgusted reaction does not alway mean the thing you are reacting to is immoral -- it often means you’ve been taught that it’s immoral or wrong. There have been many studies on disgust and moral judgment -- the assumption if your gut reaction is disgust then the thing is immoral. Scientists are studying this more to see how to combat it better. For me and my own internalized homophobia, normalizing queer relationships helped me -- the more I saw them, the more I was able to peel off the prejudices I’d absorbed that told me to be repulsed and see those relationships as toxic; instead I saw the same kind of healthy love was possible in lgbt relationships as in cishet ones. 

Reminding yourself of your own goodness in the face of cruelty is really hard, but vital. I’ve got a #God calls us good tag and an #affirmation tag that you might find encouragement and hope going through. 

_________

On top of all that, I can think of several routes you can take here. None are ideal honestly, and there are probably other options I’m not thinking of, but do your best to choose the one that feels safest and most comfortable to you. You know yourself and your situation better than anyone else. 

Tell your parents that you’ve thought about it and agree you’re too young or whatnot to know you’re bi, and you’re going to put it aside for now. E.g, retreat back into the closet as best you can.  I know how much that fricking sucks. But if it makes your day to day life while you’re stuck in this house a little more livable, it’s a viable option. It’s what my wife went with for a little while -- she let them believe that she and I had officially broken up when...we had not. She did that because otherwise living with them would have been unbearable. If you feel bad about having to lie to return to relative safety, God wills your safety above all else. There are quite a few instances in scripture of people lying to protect themselves or others.  If you do this route, here is a post with advice for getting by while closeted while living with non-affirming family.  .

Next option is to ask your parents to please try to at least be a little more open than they are. Ask them if they’d be willing to read a book, or even talk to a counselor if you can find one, or reach out to an organization like PFLAG for guidance.  You know your own parents better than I can and whether this option sounds at all possible. Do you think they could potentially be open to learning more -- if not completely becoming affirming than at least trying to understand your point of view better? Maybe, maybe not. The big risk with this route is that the answer is no and they become more aggressive against you after you try this route. This book, Building a Bridge: How the Catholic Church and the LGBT Community Can Enter into a Relationship of Respect, Compassion, and Sensitivity, might be a good starting point for your parents -- it’s by a Catholic priest!  Some other book options to offer non-affirming Christian parents can be found in this post.  .

Another option is to set boundaries with your parents (similar to what my wife currently does with her parents). You can appeal to their own professed desire not to “drift apart” here. Tell them that you are hurt by their response to your sexuality and are not willing to discuss it more with them or be in the room while they say painful things. And then enforce that: if one of them makes a comment about bisexuality being discussing for example, leave the room.  Again, context here -- you know your parents better; will they react to you leaving a room like this violently? try to physically restrain you? If so, this is probably not a good route.  .

In all of these options, starting to plan for the future where you no longer have to live with your parents is smart. Are you able to save up money, even if only a little bit at a time, that they don’t have access to? Look for schooling options that involve living on a campus, etc.? Even reaching out to relatives or friends you know to be more accepting if you have any to see if any would be willing to let you visit if/whenever your parents are being especially hurtful. 

______

One day, you’re going to find an affirming community where you feel safe and welcome, where you can meet other bisexuals and hear their stories. For now, hang in there! Your situation is hard, but it is temporary, and I promise you, God is on your side and loving you through it all.

If anyone else has advice or encouragement for anon, or has feedback on one of the options I offered up (especially if one sounds like a Bad Idea), please do share. 

[madamhatter]

“They come flocking to my cauldron crying, “Spells, Azul, please!” and I help them. Yes I do.” ( I'm sorry it was too perfect now to )

disney lyrics: villain edition (pt.1) | sentence prompts | accepting

For the past four years, the sorceress played observer and outsider to the world of the Night Raven College’s students. Physically removed from her true self, the mind too displaced from memories, Myrtle Madley the head librarian was born from the shadows of where her identity once was. Kindly knitted smile and well-mannered gestures aside, her presence was never too noted -- much like a phantom who resided in an unidentifiable body for those same four years. One who hadn’t remember their name, one who failed to piece together their life before, ....even if they had one before. 

But, this new life she created for herself in the library was interesting. As she couldn’t relate and understand their everyday choices and lives, it was a source of entertainment, and learning, for she removed from life itself. 

The critically desperate or passionately invested would flock to her domain -- the library -- and busy themselves with either researching or studying. Yet, all progression of their interests came to a sudden halt. ‘Most valued the space of learning for unacademic conversation, as opposed to the honest pursuit of knowledge,’ she would say while wielding her staff, her own words were drowned by the frantic screams from fleeing students. 

Most of the topics, while not appropriate for the academic setting, were all the more revealing about the academy’s ecology. When discussing comparing the different year students, the dormitories, and their affiliations (clubs, specialties, home towns, etc.), the dynamics were far too obvious, if not comically, hard to ignore. But, then came the actual workings of these dynamics.

Internal politics weren’t her favorite subject. It was too bothersome to get involved with such meaningless wars of pride and territory. It wouldn’t matter once they graduated. Certain students were bred for it, others were not. But, it wouldn’t impact their further future either way. Only those who were getting picked on and bullied were affected in the closer future and it was conducted by these students too engrossed about power-lust and, in some cases, blood-lust.

What a misfortune it was now for the sorceress’s curse to ebb away, her older form slowly fading. If she were to morph carelessly in front of students, she’d surely be compromised. In such trying times, now having to devote a new persona that needed to further interact with these students, Sophie wished her memories hadn’t returned so soon.  

Yet, she held no final decision. It was already arranged. Certain bumps were along the road, considering the magicless perfect that was spat out into their world, but it was settled. 

Simeon’s arrangements and late introduction piqued the interest of the students -- that they couldn’t avoid -- but the rumors mill was quickly picking traction. Even in the Myrtle disguise, she heard some allegations that led to her discipline bordering vicious than stern. 

The second student to enter Ramshackle, right after the other worlder, outright absent from the opening ceremony too. Of course, speculation would be boundless and students so obsessed with knowing would dig their noses into things where they don’t belong. 

Simeon’s eyes refrained from moving upright, mind half-heartedly listening to the conversation at hand. Seated straight and properly, both of their gloved hands rested on the frame of their lap. Unmoving, unexpressive, they were far too illegible at that moment to betray just how far their thoughts were removed from the current situation.

Dissonance and echoes of seawater, muffled scratches of chairs being moved, the delicate clank of glasses being arranged, and the sharp taps of heels against the ground, Simeon finally returned to reality. 

Behind the seated student was the vibrant and lush glow of the Coral Sea, blue and teal lights spill over their figure from the vast oceanic backdrop. Large and curved dark purple seats surround the tables, chandeliers composed of wavy pieces akin to jellyfish hung from the walls and were illuminated, and a large bar occupied the right-hand side of the area.

Simeon recalled the background of the location. Mostro Lounge, a recent business venture created by the Octavinelle Dorm’s prefect once he began his first year. The headmaster had been acquainted with the idea far ahead than any of the staff members -- given the fact that said student presented the proposition and had the headmaster signing a contract within an hour. And he hadn’t even been in the school for nearly a month. 

When Sophie had learned of this, there was surely color and choice words she prepared for her superior. But, she quietly stomped out her revolt, as a year ago, she believed she wouldn’t have to be bothered by such proposals and politics. 

Yet, now, here they were, seated in the center of one of the tables of this now successfully, if not deviously rooted, business. Simeon, too, had to face the reality that the same student who’d swept the headmaster --which isn’t hard to do-- was before them, seated comfortably in a contemporary black leather armchair. 

Azul Ashengrotto, Octavinelle’s dorm prefect and the lead manager to the Mostro Lounge, bestowed an honor onto Simeon. 

Within a matter of a month, a query was delivered to Simeon midday as the student body was exchanging between claws in the early morning. A formal introduction and exchange of friendly words, the Octavinelle student informed them. Curtsy included, the first-year delivery boy presented the summoning in the form of a white envelope with the Octavinelle’s logo appearing on the wax seal. 

While an antiquated practice, sending letters, it made as much sense for Simeon when they realize anything digital would’ve been impossible. After all, how do you invite someone with no phone? Though, Simeon could appreciate the finer work of preparing and using a uniformed system that makes one’s brand recognizable. No doubt, the envelope couldn’t be confused for any other dorm but Octanvinelle’s. 

Though seated now before the dorm prefect, the young student had kept themselves quiet but respectful, thankful for the invitation, as being polite required to be such. Fake smile ready, Simeon played along with the delicate and purposeful chosen words that they used in reference to themselves and any questions that were trying to break the ice and acquire information about themselves. That simply couldn’t do. 

Many employees -- or should they assume volunteers -- had already begun entering the lounge or had already been there to prepare for their afternoon shift. Judging from the armbands, quite a few weren’t from the Octavinelle dormitory -- and Simeon already had their suspicions as to why they must’ve been forced to work. 

Though, the infamous Leech brothers weren’t anywhere to be found. Never had Simeon personally encountered them. All that was acquired about them was through their Myrtle identity. The one with the left dark grey strand spent some hours in the library, researching about botany and having a particular interest in fungi. The one with the right dark grey strand came in as frequently, but not as persistently as his sibling. It was on-and-off, not having a keen schedule. But, more than not, they both came to the library together, but not for the reasons that Myrtle would’ve liked them too... As she remembers, it was ‘business’ related.

"Just as the Octavinelle dorm represents, you built this establishment based around the compassion of the Great Sea Witch, no?” Pointed observation, Simeon glanced at their untouched drink. It was generously offered by the prefect for a price as loitering wasn’t permitted inside the lounge. That question alone generated some laughter from Azul, proud of how his work can be reflected by the success of the lounge itself. 

“An interesting business practice...” Simeon’s voice trails off, which was immediately picked up by the cane-wielding student. With both of his thin silver brows raised, the older student cleared their throat, clarifying, “Ah, I’m referencing how the employees aren’t exclusively belonging to your dormitory, Mister Ashengrotto. All that come here abide by the rules of the dormitory, as you’ve mentioned. The surprise itself is how peaceful it is between the workers. As I’m becoming aware of, and as you’re already aware of, in-fighting is quite popular amongst students, depending on their affiliation.” 

The man adjusted himself in his seat, far too assumed by how quickly the newcomer spoke and how right he was. The Mostro Lounge was a unique case altogether, and it was all thanks to his scheming devotion and planning.

“How do you make it possible?” 

Simeon partially regretted asking this inquiry because it seemed the businessman was waiting for this moment. 

Long-winded explanation included, Azul hadn’t spared any details about the founding of the Mostro Lounge and his capabilities as its manager, but he ventured even further into his own unique services. Almost as if Simeon’s question was the perfect segway.

Is this what I was called here for? To get into a contract? Why else would he have eagerly begun his speech that sounds far too practiced? Simeon gathered a general gist of what Azul was capable of doing. Yet, the exact magic itself was one Azul has yet to disclose. According to him, he’s able to help out those who are in desperate need, for he is willing to help for those who need it. 

“Mister Ashengrotto, I take it that you mean well for the opportunity you provide,” they roll their hand, quick to intervene before the other’s ego got the better of him. “Your work is popular and already widespread across the entire student body. That is a feat that not even your fellow prefects could claim.” 

“However, it comes only when those who need help desire it. It must be quite a time-sensitive matter.” Simeon met Azul’s eyes. “I supposed that period of time is drawing closer too, no?” 

“You must be assured that those who need it will come out of their own volition. But, it'll only be during that time...if they actually need it too..” 

Clearing their throat, Simeon glanced down, quietly pulling out a pocket watch.

“The time..It’s almost time for the lounge to open and I must make do with my limited free time to get familiar with the campus.” Simeon nods their head at the prefect, preparing themselves to leave. 

“Thank you again for welcoming me to Night Raven’s College. And, ah, best of luck with your next shift.”