#can you guys tell I like arboreal creatures yet

[saltissalty]

A very rough idea for a sophont species materialized in my mind,, what do we think chat

[anistarrose]

Some Sunny Day Bonus Chapter 3: Seen and Unseen

AO3

Summary: A grove of birch trees on a familiar hill, an encounter in the woods that goes terribly wrong, and two memory guns.

Characters: Stan Pines, Bill Cipher, Ford Pines, Fiddleford McGucket, Blind Ivan

Been a while, huh? I was planning to celebrate the anniversary of finishing this fic with two bonus chapters just stuffed chock full of hurt/comfort, but then life happened (I got a part-time job and also mild insomnia, you know how it is) so enjoy some prequel angst instead! This one is canon to SSD and set in early 1982, shortly after the portal incident.

***

After a scare with frostbite in late February, Stan sets out at the first sign of melting snow to resume his search for the journals. A snowdrift had blocked several trails behind the house last week, but now they’re passable — so long as you don’t mind the overcast weather, and being up to your heels in mud.

Stan had enjoyed hunting for fake treasure and following Ford’s cryptic clues when they would pretend to be adventurers as kids — he’d been good at it, even. But this time, Ford has left him no hand-drawn treasure maps or whimsical riddles — only more ominous clues, like a ransacked, now empty medicine cabinet, or a ripped out journal page about being watched with X-ed out triangles drawn in all the margins. Clues that make Stan feel like throwing up, because they should mean something to him, but he just can’t bring himself to think it through and face the inevitable conclusion.

This is all my fault.

He stumbles to a halt at the foot of a hill, and realizes he’s surrounded by birch trees. He’s surrounded by eyes that never blink — or maybe, he thinks, before he can tell himself he’s going crazy, eyes that only blink when I’m blinking.

The birch trees don’t scare him the way the rest of the forest does — he’s not afraid of some creature or cryptid sneaking up on him here, where the forest is so deathly silent and he’s left all alone with himself. They don’t scare him the way the town does, either — despite everything, he feels less watched here, where there are no strangers shooting him suspicious glares or cloaked figures vanishing around corners and into the shadows.

No, the birch trees set Stan on edge because whenever he sees them — makes eye contact with them? — he knows he’s forgetting something. It’s something important, something horrible, something dangerous — like the fear of having left the stove on, except multiplied by a million. Disaster is impending, and he’s the one to blame.

This is where I belong.

He hates this place, but he’s come this far, so he can’t leave without giving the eerie birch grove a proper search. He doubts that Ford, at the height of his paranoia, would hide a journal on a hill where even the trees could watch him — but if Stan leaves now, and can’t find the journal anywhere else in the valley, he knows he’ll have to revisit this place eventually. He doesn’t ever want to revisit this unpleasant memory again, if he can avoid it.

Setting out to leave no stone unturned, he finds there are few stones on the hill to turn in the first place. There are few hiding places of any sort, nor any signs of recent digging. Stan suddenly regrets throwing out his metal detector all those years ago, and wonders if the other journals have enough brass in them to give a signal —

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up before he realizes why. He knows someone’s coming before he hears the snap of twigs or the hushed voices, the murmur of “look at the footprints, he came this way.”

They’re coming from the direction of his — Ford’s house. They must’ve followed him — or as they believed it, followed Ford out here for a reason.

“Who’s there?” Stan shouts, cringing as he hears how hoarse his voice is. His impression of Ford improves as he adds, “What brings you out here?”

“We could ask the same of you, Dr. Pines,” a deep voice booms as two figures in hooded red robes step into view, one more hesitantly than the other. They both wield identical, uncomfortably gun-shaped contraptions. “Still haven’t given up on your project, have you?”

If these cultists, or assassins, or whatever the hell they are know anything about Ford, then Stan needs to know it too. He takes a measured risk.

“I have a lot of projects. You’ll have to be more specific —”

“Ya know what we mean, Stanford.” It’s the second robed figure who speaks up, the one who’d lagged behind his deep-voiced co-conspirator, and the Southern accent throws Stan for a loop. His words suggest some kind of threat, but his gun-toting arm hangs limp at his side. “I — I didn’t want to do this, I really didn’t — but you’re becomin’ a danger, Ford, a danger to yourself and to everyone. And we — we’re here to stop you.”

“Wait!” Stan holds up his hands, dropping his Ford impression. “You’ve got this all wrong! Ford’s not dangerous, he’s in danger and I’m trying to —”

“Enough excuses!” the first figure barks, raising his gun. “IT IS UNSEEN!”

Blue light beams out of the contraption’s bulb, and Stan instinctively raises a hand to shield himself — but the light bends in midair, as if refracted by an invisible prism. It illuminates the clearing like a flash of lightning, but misses Stan by a mile.

“I told you to wait,” he whispers. He understands nothing about the bending of the light, yet somehow, could not be more certain that he alone had caused it.

“Ford?” the second figure asks, no longer sounding hesitant nor conflicted. There’s only one emotion in that voice, and it’s fear.

His companion, on the other hand, aims again without a word — and the light soars over Stan’s head as he falls to his knees, numb to the pain of the impact. Numb to everything except one thought, one single truth, easier to face than any sort of self-reflection on the power he held.

They think I’m Ford. They tried to hurt Ford. They tried to hurt Ford. They tried to —

He makes a fist with his right hand, and he sees the scene through a hundred new perspectives as sickly yellow eyes blink to life on every birch tree. He makes a fist with his left hand, and the forest comes alive.

The robed figures trip over gnarled roots, one of them even dropping his gun, but the trees continue to animate, trunks bending over and bare branches wrapping themselves around limbs. A wind whips through the grove as the cultists flail, begging as they make eye contact — not with the arboreal limbs ensnaring them, but with Stan’s body itself.

And Stan watches in both complete control, and complete disbelief of it all.

There’s a pressure against his skull, a dam about to burst after holding the flood of memories back for too long. There are leaks already, trickles of information and sparks of blue fire that chill him to his core, as images flash through his mind without coming from the birch trees, or even from his own lifetime.

Ford’s not the dangerous one. I am.

Ford’s the one who’s in danger.

Because of me.

The birches loosen their grip on the cultists, who flee the second they can shake themselves free. Stan’s left alone again, staring himself down with his hundred yellow eyes, and he can see guilt in every one of them.

He rises to a standing position, roots winding around his boots and bark creeping up his mud-soaked pants. He can’t face the world, he can’t face Ford, he can’t face himself knowing what he’s capable of, knowing that he’s the worst of all the monsters lurking in the woods —

As the trees of the grove reshape their roots and the ground shakes from the strain, the dropped gun bounces towards Stan’s feet.

It is unseen, he remembers one of the figures shouting.

He picks it up, inputs birch trees, and holds it to his head as he closes as many of his eyes as he can. Fire burns away his memories, and a deluge of ink-black water rushes in to absorb the ashes and fill their place.

***

Fiddleford McGucket runs for dear life with Ivan hot on his heels, until they reach the museum and barricade themselves inside an empty room, bracing themselves for pursuit. When it doesn’t come, Fiddleford enters a name into the memory gun, starting over several times after his trembling fingers betray him.

“Just — just another monster to erase,” Ivan stammers, “with a more human name than most.”

Fiddleford finally gets the spelling right. Two flashes of light with the input screen reading Stanford Pines, and memories of the day’s encounter — and then some — go up in flames.

It is unseen.

***

Stan is kneeling at the muddy base of an even muddier hill, surrounded by trees that look like they’re staring at him.

Or maybe, eyes that only blink when I’m — never mind. That’s ridiculous.

On the ground in front of him is a strange kind of gun, with a lightbulb in place of the barrel. He thinks he’s glimpsed some robed, vaguely cult-looking types carrying these around in town before, so after staggering to his feet, he smashes the device beneath his boot.

He has a feeling he’s forgetting something important again, but he can’t be bothered to try and remember again. He can’t bear to think about it any longer.

***

End notes:

This hill with the birch trees is the same one where Ford took a nap and first met Bill, so needless to say, Stan’s gut instinct about Ford not hiding any journals in a place like this was dead-on.

I have a lot more bonus content planned for this series, like the two-parter I alluded to in the earlier notes, but I’ve got no idea when any of that’s coming aside from a cautiously optimistic estimate of “later in 2020.” Once again, I’m so grateful for all the support you guys have given this fic from the beginning just over two years ago, to the “ending” exactly one year ago, all the way up through today :’)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 14)

Her eyes had been so wide with wonder and amazement. Nothing compared to the galaxy’s glimmering spray reflected upon the open ocean. With no city lights to dim them and no bustling tourist noise to break the quiet--no rushing cars with loud basses nor honking horns and loud chatter--Azula felt like she was in space.

The water was so crystalline, so pure. The water met the sky on the horizon giving her the illusion that she was floating in a sea of stars, drifting through the cosmos in a rocketship  rather than the ocean in a small sailboat.

“Dad look!” She exclaimed.

“At what?” He asked.

She didn’t know. She just started pointing everywhere, at everything. “Just look daddy!”

Her mother chuckled as she brushed the hair out of a snoring Zuko’s face. Ozai’s lips quirked into an amused half smile.

“Can we go to space, daddy?”

“Why would you want to go to space when you have stars right here?” He gestures to the shimmering world around her.

That was the first time she’d seen phosphorescent fish and plankton. She leaned over the boat’s railing. Ozai quickly came to hold her steady as she dipped her curious fingers into the water.

“Don’t do that, dear. There are sharks in the water.” Ursa cautioned.

But she didn’t see any sharks so she continued trying to catch one of the fish. She only managed to come up with a handful of plankton. She waited until Ursa was asleep to paint a bioluminescent mural upon her brother’s face.

That was her first experience with a boat and an open ocean. That was her first adventure.

.oOo.

Ozai comes home on his birthday, that is probably a gift enough for him but Azula bough him a gift anyhow and pestered Zuko and Katara help her make a cake.

“He doesn’t deserve one.” Zuko had grumbled the whole time.

Azula is inclined to agree, but she has it on the table for him no less. Perhaps he won’t be so angry with her if she does something to make his birthday special.

She sits herself on the couch and waits for the man to come home. Jet plops himself down next to her and drapes his arm over her shoulder. A half an hour goes by and she spends it by leaning her head into his chest and trying to convince herself that it is okay. That she is allowed to love Jet. That she is allowed to have love. That, should she find Sokka, he would understand.  She lets Jet rub circles on her back.

“I’m sure he isn’t angry with you, he’s just going through stuff.” Jet assures.

She lets him think that, that is the source of her unease. It is easier to explain. “I hope that you’re right.” She mumbles. He squeezes her a little tighter.

“How can he stay mad when you made him a whole cake?”

.oOo.

To be frank, Zuko never liked Jet. He never hated the boy, but there was something about him… Maybe it is that he is one of those pretty boys. That is probably it. Zuko never liked the type. Jet is nice enough but he thinks that he is such hot shit. Really the boy is no different than anyone else their age. He has a car. So what? He’s a smooth talker. Great for him. He’s got a good sense of fashion and can do sports. That’s fantastic. Zuko thinks that a person should have more substance than charming looks, material things, and a handful of talents.

He looks to his sister. She’s a pretty girl, she has to be if so many of the boys and a handful of girls flock to her. She’s got talents upon talents and as far as everyone knows, she still has riches. But that’s just the thing, she has more than that; she’s fun to be around, bold and adventurous. Annoying as hell, rather judgmental, and with a pretty solid mean streak. But she means well and she’s mostly a kind girl. At the very least she is able to keep certain comments to herself.

Jet is just a pretty face. He isn’t like Sokka. Sokka who was a complete and unapologetic dork. Sokka who was hilarious, fun, and always had something exaggerated tall tale to tell. He’s spontaneous and rather disorganized. He is energetic. He was all of those things, Zuko reminds himself.

Sokka is nearly her opposite of Azula in everything save for intellect. For as idiotic as he acted sometimes, the boy had brains. This is probably what had drawn Azula to him. Jet is so similar to her, right down to lost parents. That is why Sokka fit her so much better.

He observes the pair cozied up on the couch and his heart seizes. He never thought himself the type to play the protective brother but seeing Jet with his arms around his sister is...something doesn’t sit right. And maybe it is only because he is used to seeing her with Sokka. Maybe it is just that he isn’t used to it. Jet hasn’t done anything bad to her. In fact, he has been supportive. Supportive and much sweeter that Zuko anticipated. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that the boy isn’t right for his sister. He doesn’t say it, partly because he knows Azula. He knows that she is a creature of spite and will stick her tongue right down Jet’s in front of him if he does. She has been waiting for a chance to pay him back for the one time, in middle school, that he had made out with Mai while she was trying to do homework.

But mostly he doesn’t say anything because it is probably good for Azula to begin to move on. Having her cling to Sokka so furiously that she’d be willing to waste her college fun on some fruitless rescue mission...it isn’t healthy. He looks back at the sofa, at Azula who has turned to face Jet and slip her arms around him. This is healthy. This is one step closer to moving on.

“She’ll be fine.” Katara says. “I know that you don’t like him much but he’s not bad.”

“Then why did you break up with him?”

Katara shrugs. “Promise that you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

“He said that he didn’t like turtles.”

“What kind of person doesn’t like turtles!?” Zuko says a little too loudly.

“Have you ever been attacked by a family of snappers?” Jet calls from the couch. “I can show you the scars.”

“That’s how you got those?” Azula asks, trailing her fingers over his right hand and arm.  

“Yup.”

“Not all turtles are like that, Jet!” Zuko tries.

The boy chuckles, “I’m not taking any chances. You wanna go poke around in a snapping turtle nest, be my guest. I’ll be on the other side of the beach.”

Azula snickers and mutters something about protecting him from feral shelled beasts.

“That’s his tragic backstory.” Katara jokes. “Anyways, we just didn’t have much in common, I guess. Pretty cliche, right?”

“A little.” Zuko laughs.

“My point is, he’s a pretty good guy. He’s not much different than the other boys in our school.”

“That’s the problem I think. Sokka was...he was different. And Azula’s different.”

This time Katara laughs. “Yeah I don’t think I’ve met anyone like her before. I haven’t met anyone like you either. Your family is just weird.”

“We live in a lighthouse, what did you expect?” They both chuckle at this.

“That’s why we’re so smart.” Azula calls from the couch.

Zuko tilts his head in confusion.

“Because lighthouses are bright.” Azula explains. “We’re smart because we live in a lighthouse and lighthouses are bright and bright is another word for…”

“Is it rude to break up with someone over an awful joke?” Jet grumbles.

“If I could handle Sokka’s for as long as I did, you can handle mine.”

“Sokka would have loved that joke.” Zuko remarks.

“Sokka would have made that joke.” Katara replies.

The new silence between them is tense. Katara squeezes his hand. “Why do so many things have to remind me of him?”

“Because he’s your brother.” Zuko replies. Again he finds himself peering at Azula, now sitting and swatting Jet with a nearby stack of papers. She is probably the larges pain in the ass he has ever had to live with. But he couldn’t imagine how hollow it would feel to lose her. He thinks of the day that they’d found her, broken and gashed up after being thrown against rocks. He wonders if it had hurt, if she ever thinks about it. She never talks about it. He thinks of her climbing onto the arbor to untangle patio lights. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it if she’d fallen. “You never forget someone who you were that close to.” He hadn’t known Sokka nearly as well as Katara did and it still puts an unpleasant tingle in his belly when he comes across something that triggers the memory.

It is a hollow sort of longing that puts a flutter in his stomach a flutter that reaches his throat and has tears threatening to form. It is a somber yearning as he enters the room he’d last talked with Sokka in, as he visualizes Sokka as he’d last seen him. As he tries to latch onto that memory and make a physical manifestation of it. At the very least he tries to cling to it so that it doesn’t slip. It like being in a room with a phantom. Memories are ghosts.

“You can’t forget.” He repeats. “I don’t think that you want to either. I don’t. Azula doesn’t.”

He hears Katara swallow, but before they can get any further, Ozai opens the door. The man looks as hollow as Katara probably feels when thinking about Sokka. Mostly he is put together, clean shaven--for once--and with his hair neatly styled. But his clothing is wrinkled, his cheeks are sunken, and he has bags under his eyes.

“What’s this?” Ozai grumbles. “I told you that I was coming home from the hospital and you bring guests over?”

Zuko catches Azula visibly swallow and goes tense. Just like that he recalls that their father doesn’t know about Jet yet. Jet who tightens his grip protectively around Azula. And just like that, Zuko’s opinion of him changes rather drastically.

Azula pulls out of his grip.

“Tell them to go home.” Ozai says simply.

“Tell them to go home!?” Zuko gets to his feet. “We did this for--”

Azula holds up a hand. He can tell that her optimism is fading fast. “I thought that it would be a nice surprise to…” she gestures to the cake. “I can’t cook so I asked Katara to help.”

“And him?” Ozai nods to Jet.

She shifts uncomfortably.

Zuko’s stomach nearly gives when Jet opens his mouth. “I’m Jet, I’m on Azula’s surf team, remember?”

“I recall.” Ozai answers stiffly. “But that doesn’t tell me what you are doing here.”

Jets simply slips his arm around Azula’s waist and tugs her closer.

“I want them out, Azula.”

“But, I…”

“Out.” He commands more firmly.

Azula bunches her fists. Zuko knows what she is going to do before Ozai does. He praises her for her wit but, lord he wishes that she wouldn’t.

“Fine.”

.oOo.

The lighthouse door slams. It takes a moment for that Jet boy to react but he hastily follows her out.

Ozai sighs. It is long and drawn, he rubs a hand over his face, feeling thoroughly drained. He looks from the doorway to the birthday cake on the table. It is a nice sentiment, but he is not in a festive mood. She means well, they all mean well, but it might be too soon.

“We made all of this to cheer you up and you make us feel like shit!” Zuko accuses. Zuko seldom raises his voice at him. Much less cusses at him. “You make Azula feel…”

Ozai tries to tune his son out.

“She thinks that you hate her!” Zuko scowls. “You know that right? She was trying to give you a good birthday because she knows that you’re having a hard time.”

Katara links her arm around Zuko and clutches him tightly. Ozai wonders if he is frightening her. He must be. “Zuko, I am your father you will not speak to--”

“No. You aren’t.” Zuko hisses. “Azula and I lost both of our parents that night.”  He turns to his girlfriend. “Come on, lets go find Azula and Jet.”

Katara nods, “I’m worried about her, Zuko.”

Somehow the girl’s comment unsettled him more deeply than anything Zuko had said. With a second slam he is alone in the lighthouse. He finds a seat at the table in front of his birthday cake. There is no one left to eat it with.

Also in front of him is a handmade card. ‘Welcome home, congratulations, and happy birthday, father.’ She hadn’t left anything out and that was only the cover page. He is home, but his birthday isn’t happy and he doesn’t feel like there is anything worth congratulating. It is his own fault.

He’d just gotten clean and he is already ready for his next drink. He opens the fridge and curses Azula for her forethought. She’d gotten rid of all of it. He supposes that he has ingrained tough love into her.

He should probably give her space, let her run off to Katara’s house or Jet’s. But he thinks that this time, if he allows the problem to fester, he will lose her. He will lose both of his children.

He rakes his fingers through his hairline and heads for the door. He reaches it and hesitates. He sits back at the table.

[lainieab-blog]

「bree kish & cisfemale」⇾ applebottom , lainie, the sophomore radcliffe student’s records show that she is a sagittarius and 24 years old. she is studying biology, living in moris and can be idealistic, sweet, disorganized & superficial. when i see her i am reminded of picking strawberries, fae gifts, & long dresses. ⇽「nt & 18 & cst & she/her.」

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 !! my name is nt, im 18 n use she/her pronouns. i’m the mun of the ever so innocent lainie applebottom !! by reading down this you’ll learn more about lainie, her past, & some wanted connections i have for her !! if you would like to plot, feel free to press the heart & i will slide into your dms. however, if d*sc*rd is easier for you to plot my discord is alt forest witch#3002 !! ( tw: teen pregnancy, cheating )

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

born on december 16th 1995 in ann arbor, michigan, lainie was born to two wealthy engineers. they were super excited to have a child as they spent seven years trying to no avail, and they were counting on lainie’s personality and interests to reflect theirs.

naturally, as she started to grow up & have interests of her own, her parents weren’t excited. she was obsessed with fairytales and folklore.

her parents didn’t approve of her interests bc fairies and other creatures like that weren’t real despite lainie’s constant complaints that she had friends who were gnomes, she’d even shown them a “gnome bite” which concerned the couple. ( not too much though, she’d once confused two mosquito bites on her neck for a vampire bite )

though as she grew up & her interests expanded into astral projection, tarot, and astrology her parents began to support her more. slowly but surely they’d learned that she was her own person, not required to be exactly like them.

at age sixteen she’d met a boy & started dating him. though shortly before her seventeenth birthday, she discovered she was pregnant.

telling her boyfriend and parents was the single hardest thing lainie had ever had to do and still is to this day. luckily for her she was met with support from not only her parents but her boyfriend & his parents.

decided against going to college to take care of her son and got engaged to her boyfriend!!!!! they eloped on their 2 year anniversary and lainie was looking forward to the future.

everything was great until her 22nd birthday when she discovered her husband was cheating on her. he had been for years & lainie was too naive to see it. she left him & took her son with her.

embarrassed and broke, lainie moved back in with her parents where she applied to different colleges. she ended up choosing to go to radcliffe despite it being out of state. her parents agreed to move with her to help take care of her son.

she lives on campus because she “wants the whole college experience” but always sees her son every day.

majoring in biology because she wants to do something in that field, but she’s not 100% sure what exactly she wants to do.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

has always been idealistic and very sweet, rarely shows a negative side to herself to others despite being extremely judgmental and at times suspicious.

superficial and disorganized in everything she does, she tries her best to hide how disorganized she really is as a person. this mainly applies to her at times being an emotional mess, but can also apply to how messy she is.

forgetful at times, she’s got lots of things going on her in head so it’s sometimes hard for her to keep track of everything.

lainie is a sagittarius, so she craves freedom, adventure, and independence above all. being married stressed her out at times, but her husband was an aries so he knew how to keep her fire sign ass interested and on her toes.

after being cheated on, lainie has a general distrust of everyone except her parents, son, and close friends.

dislikes skeptics and those who don’t believe in all of her witchy things, don’t test her she will talk shit about you to her spirit guides.

always down to read someone’s tarot if they ask nicely!!!!!!!!!!

scared of yet intrigued by the urban legends of campus, catch her going to investigate with her protection necklace and crystals.

cannot deal with her problems, the only time she’ll run is away from her problems. or if she’s being chased, but even then it isn’t a guarantee.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

maybe a coven?? of other witches or people interested in spirituality !!!!!

a polar opposite best friend !!  someone to listen to her ramble on about how much of their sign they are and kind of get into it, but would never admit it.

a study buddy or group, she needs people to keep her focused.

a babysitter!!!! someone who supports her as a single mom trying to get her education & wants to help out.

someone female or nb that lainie has a crush on but doesn’t realize it’s a crush because she’s still in the closet.

a guy she tries to distract herself with, maybe she’s leading him on or he thinks he’s leading her on and has no idea she’s trying to prove she’s straight.

someone who knows she’s secretly kinda mean and doesn’t like her.

a rival in a class or just a nemesis.

ofc stuff like fwbs and hook ups are always wanted as well!!!!!

give me anything n everything thank u

[natashasbanner]

The New Normal, Chapter 2

Adjusting to life after saving the world was easier said than done. It took time, but Macy was working on it, one step at a time.

Macy-centric, post season one AU.

A/N: Please enjoy :) 

Also on AO3

X

“This couldn’t wait until it stopped raining?” Maggie complained as they turned the corner off of main street. 

She was struggling to keep up with Macy who held the umbrella they were sharing. Macy glanced over and slowed down to match her pace, shifting the umbrella to cover her more. Maggie had been over the moon at their impromptu shopping trip. And she eagerly latched onto Macy’s idea for the balcony garden.

“It’s been raining for days,” Mel said from behind them. “We all have time today. Might as well make the most of it.” 

“Sorry,” Maggie grumbled, looping her arm through Macy’s to keep her from speeding up again. “I haven’t had a good hair day in weeks, excuse me for being a little grumpy.” 

“A little?” Mel questioned with scoff. 

Maggie looked over her shoulder, jerking Macy’s arm a little to make a face at Mel. She felt the cold water from the ground splash against the back of her legs and imagined Mel kicking at a puddle in retaliation to Maggie’s face making. 

Macy chuckled to herself as Maggie faced forward again. She missed this, the endearingly juvenile moments where they were nothing more than three sisters. She regretted keeping them at arms length for so long. 

Maggie bumped her shoulder against hers and Macy swallowed, looking over with her eyebrows raised. 

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Maggie said, her voice quiet. “You okay?” 

“Fine,” Macy said, feeling her jaw tightening involuntarily. 

“You sure?”

She shrugged Maggie’s hand away and straightened her shoulders. “I said I’m fine.” 

Macy didn’t mean to be so short and she knew Maggie meant well, but it was her knee jerk reaction. It made her feel like they were walking on eggshells around her, waiting for her to crumble. She wasn’t going to crumble. She wasn’t going break. Macy missed her sisters, but she didn’t want to spend the day feeling like a burden. 

Macy stopped and turned around to face them. Maggie’s eyes shone with quiet concern and Mel looked apprehensive. 

“Look,” she started with a sigh. “I promise I’m okay. I just want to go shopping. Okay?” 

They were silent an uncomfortably long time as they stared at her. It was Mel who spoke first. 

“The store’s just around the corner,” she said, pointing down the road. “Should have everything we’re looking for.” 

Maggie offered a small smile. “And we have to stop in the antique store.” 

“Great,” Macy said, holding her arm out for Maggie again. She was relieved that she took it without hesitation. “Let’s go.” 

Macy caught Mel’s smirk, as Maggie tugged her along again. Macy let out a breath. Not a great start, but at least they were back to familiar. 

X

Mel was right, they got seeds, starter pots, soil and some new gardening tools all in one place. They put it all in the car and Maggie dragged Macy and Mel to the antique store by the hands. Mel drifted off on her own when they stepped inside, but Maggie stayed by Macy’s side, lazily guiding her through the winding rows of antiques.

She didn’t say much outside of pointing out a few things that would be nice to replace some of the furniture they’d lost to the never ending stream of creatures, good and evil, passing through the house. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” Macy said when Maggie stopped them in front of a display of incomplete dining sets. “You didn’t deserve that.” 

Maggie shrugged and let go of her arm to pick up a tea cup from the shelf. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” Macy argued, shaking her head. 

“We can be overbearing and you asked for space,” Maggie said, returning the tea cup to its place. “I can’t help but worry sometimes.” 

“I know.” Macy followed behind her as she moved further down the row of shelves. “But we all went through hell last year. You have your own stuff to deal with. I don’t want to be another one of your problems.” 

Maggie let out a snort and picked up a plate, tracing her finger over the floral pattern that wove around the edge. 

“What?” Macy asked, turning to look at the mismatched assortment of cups and bowls. 

“For someone so smart, you can be really dumb sometimes, Mace.” Maggie put the plate back and kept moving down the shelf. “No offense.” 

Macy chuckled softly, tilting her head to one side. “I’m a little offended.” 

“You’re my sister, whether you like it or not you are my problem. Mel too. Forever.” she said, meeting Macy’s eyes with a soft smile. “You might not need us there all the time, but we’re here. Just in case.” 

Macy reached out and pulled Maggie against her. Maggie’s arms wound around her waist and held her tightly. 

“I love you, Mags.” Macy said softly and she heard Maggie sniff against her coat. “I’m here for you too. Forever.” 

Maggie pulled away, shaking her head and swiping at the tears that had dripped onto her cheeks. 

“Well, this is embarrassing,” she said with short laugh, meeting Macy’s eyes. 

Macy reached out and squeezed her shoulder, offering a smile. Tears stung her own eyes, but they didn’t fall. She was too good at keeping them in. 

“It’s not exactly ideal to be having this conversation in the middle of a store.” 

Maggie laughed and looked at Macy seriously. “But it needed to be said. We’re better together and all that right?” 

Macy nodded, looping her arm through Maggie’s. “Right,” she agreed. 

“There you are,” Mel said, coming around the corner. She faltered for a moment, taking in their red rimmed eyes and the fresh tear tracks in Maggie’s makeup. “Everything okay?”

Macy glanced over at Maggie who nodded. “We’re good.”  

“Good.” She blew out a breath and dragged a hand through her hair. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving. You wanna grab something to eat?” 

“Definitely,” Macy said. 

“Not before I’ve had a chance to fix,” Maggie gestured at her face with her free hand. “All of this.” 

Mel rolled her eyes and turned for the door. Macy exchanged a smile with Maggie and followed after Mel, feeling lighter than she had when they walked into the store. 

X

Mel picked the diner right around the corner from the antique shop. It wasn’t Macy’s favorite, but it was the closest and there wasn’t a wait. Maggie went back to the car to fix her makeup, while Mel and Macy sat in the booth looking at their menus in silence. 

That feeling returned, the one she got earlier when Mel started to leave after bringing her breakfast. Emboldened by her earlier talk with Maggie, Macy cleared her throat. 

“Mel?” 

Mel flipped the menu over, but didn’t look up. “Huh?” 

“There’s something I want to tell you,” Macy said, wringing her hands in her lap. Her palms were sweaty and she felt some of the nerve she’d worked up start to slip away. Maggie was always easier to talk to, but this was something she wanted to talk about with Mel. 

Mel glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “What’s up?” 

Macy opened her mouth, but closed it again, searching for the right words. She clutched her fingers under the table and took a deep breath. Mel watched her, waiting for her to say something. Mel liked direct, so Macy decided that she would just come out with it. Lay everything on the table for Mel to process and analyze and wait for her to respond. 

“I got a job,” she said, dropping her gaze to the table. “My dream job, in Ann Arbor. And I was going to take it.” 

Mel tensed, her jaw tightening visibly. She sucked in a breath and then another before she relaxed against the booth. 

“But you didn’t take it?” she asked, her tone calmer than Macy expected. 

“How could I?” Macy shrugged and words started tumbling out of her before she could stop them. “I was ready to run because everything here hurt so much and it was a chance for a, for a fresh start. Ann Arbor is only two hours away and I could come back to help when you guys needed me to. It was perfect.” 

Mel tilted her head to one side, her expression softening. “What stopped you?” 

“I don’t know. Everytime I started packing or when I worked up the courage to tell you and Maggie, I chickened out. There’s still a half packed suitcase in my closet.” She blew out a breath, shaking her head at herself. “But as much as it hurt to be here, with all the reminders of Galvin and everything else that happened, deep down I knew I didn’t really want to leave. It was just the easiest thing to do at the time.” 

The corner of Mel’s mouth quirked up and she reached across the table, her palm open and inviting. Macy didn’t hesitate taking Mel’s hand and relaxed when she squeezed her fingers. 

“But I have you and Maggie and even though our lives are less than stable on a good day, I realized I don’t want to go back to being alone.” 

“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about being alone ever again,” Mel said softly. She swallowed and her eyes were shining under the fluorescent lights overhead. 

Macy smiled. “So I’ve been told.” 

Mel squeezed her hand again. “And if you ever need to talk, I’m here you know. You don’t have to sit out in the rain by yourself all morning.” 

“I like the rain,” Macy argued. 

Mel pulled her hand away with a low chuckle. She looked back down at the menu, a smile tugging at her lips. 

“You could always join me out there,” Macy said and Mel looked up at her again. “If you ever wanted to talk or anything.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The click of Maggie’s heels against the floor drew Macy’s attention and she squeezed into the booth beside her. 

“Did you guys order yet?” she asked looking between Macy and Mel. 

“Not yet,” Mel answered, turning her menu over again. 

“We were waiting for you,” Macy said, sliding her menu in front of Maggie. 

Maggie smiled. “Thanks.” 

X

“Thank you for coming with me,” Macy said as they walked up the stairs to the front door. “Today was fun.” 

“Just like old times,” Maggie grunted, shifting the bags in her arms. 

“What old times?” Mel asked skeptically and Macy could imagine her raised eyebrow without looking over at her. “There wasn’t exactly time for anything other than preventing the apocalypse since we got our powers.” 

“Well we should make this a regular thing,” Maggie said and Macy caught her sticking her tongue out Mel.

“I agree,” Macy spoke up, moving in front of Maggie to unlock the front door. 

“I’m in too, but maybe next time we could do something that doesn’t involve four hours walking around downtown in the rain,” Mel said, shuffling in behind them.  

Macy walked to set her bags down in the living room and sighed in relief when she shrugged her coat off of her shoulders. 

“Sister Saturdays?” Maggie said, her voice taking on the squeaky quality it got when she was excited. “Just the three of us?” 

“We could see a movie next week,” Macy suggested, rejoining them in the foyer. “Go for drinks after? No walking around in the rain for hours involved.”  

Mel slumped against the door and closed her eyes. “Sounds wonderful,” she pushed herself away from the door suddenly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “I have to get ready and I smell like a wet dog. Text me when you pick a movie.” 

She was up the stairs before Macy or Maggie could say anything else. Maggie turned to Macy, grinning. 

“This is gonna be so fun and I know the perfect movie for all of us. And can we please find a different bar than The Haunt?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

Macy smiled. “Whatever you want, I picked what we did today. Thanks for sticking it out in the rain.” 

“Any time. Do you want some help bringing this stuff upstairs?” She gestured at the bags around foyer. 

Macy shook her head levitating one of the bags for a moment before setting it down gently. “I’ve got it.” 

“Okay. I have to head back over to Kappa, but I’ll text you the movie trailer,” she promised before she hurried out the door. 

Macy stood there for a long time, looking around at the spoils of the day. This was what she missed, just a day with her sisters. No pressing magical emergencies, no work or school or anything else. Just the three of them. It was a step in the right direction, getting back across the bridge between them.

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [864]

“Do I know you?”

It’s not a question Bull has to ask a lot. He’s got a memory for faces and voices, a memory for bodies and people. But there’s something strange about Ellana Lavellan. He’s not sure what he was expecting when he heard that Evelyn Trevelyan had sent for help.

There’s a fucking hole in the sky that shits out demons. Who do you call for that?

Ellana Lavellan, apparently. A mage that — she doesn’t feel like a mage. She doesn’t fight like a mage. She doesn’t feel or fight like anyone Bull’s ever met before. Except for the fact that she feels familiar. Something about her nags at him, pulls at the edges of his consciousness. She snags on the edges of his mind and refuses to come loose. Either forgotten entirely or remembered in full.

The woman turns to him, wrapped up in her fur and her long fine cloak that should swallow her but somehow makes her seem taller. Bigger. More incomprehensible.

That’s another thing. She doesn’t look like any elf Bull has ever met before, either. Bull doesn’t know elves that dress that fine. Not even the ones who somehow married well dress that fine.

Ellana Lavellan’s cloak is embroidered along the edges in gold, or something similar to it based on the way it catches light. It’s not new, he can tell that it’s rather old, but it’s been cared for. Her armor is made of some kind of silverite, and the leather — well. Bull wants to say that it’s dragon scale but he hasn’t gotten to check and he doesn’t know what he’d do with the answer if he asked.

She carries a sword. And a fine bow that looks — it doesn’t even look like a bow, really. It looks like a branch she cut off a tree but he’s seen it when strung and he’s seen her shoot with it so he knows it’s a bow. But he’s never seen one like it before.

“Not yet,” Lavellan answers. Her eyes are laughing at him, but he doesn’t feel any malice there. Anything mean. She just seems that way.

When she arrived at Haven, unannounced and impossibly unencumbered by any luggage and unaided by any creature, she looked that way too. She looked right at the Trevelyans, the same kind of laugh in her eyes, and she smiled and said something Bull still doesn’t understand. He’s not sure if he somehow wasn’t hearing her right or if it means something else. She had said to them, “Wasn’t one adventure enough? Did you miss me in your dreams so much?”

Now, with those laughing eyes turned on him she asks, “Do you feel like you should?”

“Yes,” Bull answers. “You feel familiar.”

Lavellan’s smile broadens. “Perhaps you know me from a dream.”

Bull stares into her eyes. “I think I would remember if I ever dreamed someone like you.”

“I do feel familiar to you, so perhaps you do,” she points out. “Does it displease you?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Bull replies. “Where are you from?”

“You wouldn’t know it,” she says.

Bull raises his eyebrows, allowing the disbelief to show across his face.

Lavellan turns away from him raising her hand and pointing south. “Do you know the Korcari Wilds?”

“Yes, though I’ve never been that far south myself.”

“Travel through the Korcari Wilds, deep, deep into the forest. So far that even the Frostbacks can no longer severe it from the Arbor Wilds, where all of those trees share one root and every single river shares the same heart. Further than that, until you’ve glimpsed the sun off of the Sundered sea, and even further to a land that does not care for any name. And then you would be close enough to where I come from, I suppose.”

“Close enough?”

Lavellan turns back to him, hand lowering and disappearing into her cloak once more. Her smile remains, though.

“I am from a place that does not care for names or boundaries. Everything is what can be seen and felt. It is all just one forest, it is all just one river, and it is all just one sky. The Chantry and the wars and the trifles of the people here are nothing but whispers in leaves. Curious happenings playing out for us to someday dream about.” Her gaze turns searching as she watches his face for reactions. “And apparently, the people here sometimes dream about us there. Who knew?”

“For someone who’s from somewhere so far away that you guys only dream about the rest of Thedas you got here pretty quick. How do you know the Trevelyans exactly?”

“Ah, I’m from there, but I wasn’t coming from there.” Lavellan shakes her head. “I was in the Brecilian. I wanted to see the ocean from that side. As for how I met the Trevelyans — the same way you and I met. In a dream.” Lavellan’s smile is playful, and for all that the words should be unsettling they don’t land that way no matter how Bull examines them. “Max and Lynn saved my life. Or perhaps it’s better to say that they’re the ones who started it? If you asked them I think they would say the same. We are each other’s beginnings. My life could not begin until they were there.”

Well that’s one headache of an answer.

“Does everyone talk like you where you’re from? Because I can only imagine that it must be a pain in the ass to get one straight answer.”

Lavellan laughs. “If you had hair and if you met my brother I think you’d pull it all out. I’m actually rather straightforward, I think, compared to the rest of my family. My father especially has such a terrible time about it. Whenever he and my brother talk it’s a real show to watch. Do I frustrate you, the Iron Bull?”

“Something like that, Lavellan,” Bull admits. “I haven’t decided.”

“Ah, then I’ve got some time to win you over,” Lavellan says. “I shall do my utmost best to win you over with as much charm as I can muster. Is it a tall task, do you think? Or am I already doing well? Don’t tell me. It was rhetorical. I’ll find out when I find out and not a second sooner.”

[fangsandforests]

Is a Crested Gecko the Right Pet for You?

A while back I did a post like this for tarantulas, where I went over some of the pros and cons of keeping tarantulas as pets. This time, the spotlight is on crested geckos. (I’ll do one for leopard geckos and cave geckos at a later date.) 

If you’ve ever seen these cute little guys sleeping on a fake plant in a pet store and wondered what it’s like to have one as a pet, I can honestly say they are one of the absolute best pet reptiles you can get. But in my usual fashion, I’m going to deliver the bad news first.

They are messy

If you’re used to something like a leopard gecko, which pretty much chooses one spot to go to the bathroom and makes cleaning super easy for you, then you might not like having a crested gecko. 

Crested geckos are great candidates for bioactive setups, and it has a lot to do with how much they “food” they provide for the cleanup crew (springtails, isopods, etc.). But even with a bioactive enclosure, you’ll need to regularly clean the tank walls and water dishes. 

That’s because when they poop, it’s typically down the sides of the walls, in a water dish, on the leaves of plants, or other places that are sure to leave an ugly blemish on your lovely setup. And that’s not all. Don’t be surprised if your gecko religiously steps in its food and tracks it all over the walls and decor. 

But wait, it gets better. . . . If you love handling your reptiles, you’ll be delighted to know that crested geckos are notorious for pooping on your hand when you first pick them up. (Your hand is warm, and that warmth always seems to prompt them to clear out their bowels.)

But, hey, if you can’t deal with poop and food messes and don’t know the procedures for preventing Salmonella, I hear some invertebrates make great pets. :)

They jump

This is another one for those of you who want a pet that’s easy to handle. While crested geckos are some of the most docile reptiles, they can (and will) jump. They’re arboreal creatures, and that’s just what they do. So the hand-walking technique is really more of a hand-jumping technique with these guys. 

Considering how calm these guys tend to be as adults, I don’t necessarily consider the jumping a big con here. Once your get used to their body language, you can tell when a crested gecko is about to take a leap of faith. And you have a split second to make sure they’re going to land on your hand and not the floor, wall, or furniture. 

However, if you’re used to terrestrial animals, the jumping thing may be outside your comfort zone. 

They’re clumsy 

While we’re on the subject of jumping, let me just say that a crested gecko jump isn’t a very graceful one. They don’t always hit their mark, and even when they do, it looks quite comical. 

They aren’t exactly the best hunters either, even when you’re tong-feeding them or putting insects in a bowl. They might miss a few times before they grab the grub. I’ve had a few instances where my geckos have just dropped food right after catching it. Then they have this moment of wondering why they’re no longer eating anything. 

So if you’re going to feed your crested gecko insects (which I recommend you do at least once every one or two weeks), do not just unleash them into the enclosure. They may never find them, especially if it’s something like dubia roaches, which excel at hiding. They also may accidentally ingest loose substrate while trying to catch them. So always feed by hand/tongs or use an escape-proof feeding dish. (My geckos have learned to associate the feeding dish with insect feedings and will eagerly come to the door when they see me holding it.) 

Let’s just say it’s a good thing these guys aren’t pure insectivores or I’m not sure they’d make it out in the world! 

So now that I’ve covered the negatives, we’ll move into what makes these guys excellent pets. 

They’re not terribly expensive to setup

The standard enclosure size for an adult crested gecko is 12x12x18, with 18 inches being the height. (I prefer to upgrade adults, especially females, to an 18x18x24.) Babies do best in small/medium Kritter Keepers. So this isn’t an animal that’s going to take up a lot of space. (Unless, of course, you fall in love with them and get more than one. That can add up!) 

And unless you’re going the bioactive route, it shouldn’t be too pricey to complete the enclosure either. I always suggest going beyond the basics if you can, though, and definitely do not pick up one of those “crested gecko kits”. Those kits often include things that are unsuitable for crested geckos, or are missing things you should have. 

Since I already have a crested gecko setup guide on this site, which I update frequently, I won’t go into more detail on that here. But, essentially, the enclosure itself is probably going to be the most expensive part of the setup. 

No light or heat needed

This is going to depend on where you live and how hot/cold your room temperatures are, but crested geckos generally don’t need supplemental heat. An ideal temperature is around 75, so if you’re regularly dipping into the 60s, you might want to add some form of heat. 

If you do choose to add heat, make sure it’s connected to a thermostat! Crested geckos can overheat and dehydrate very quickly, so do not let your temperatures get too hot (80+) for lengthy periods of time. And be sure to mist down the enclosure regularly to make up for the drying effect of the heater. 

And because crested geckos are nocturnal, many keepers choose not to supply them with UV lighting. Most crested gecko diets include D3, which is an important vitamin otherwise supplied by UV lights. So they should be getting everything they need from their food. 

However, I’m an advocate for UV-B, and I find that a lot of nocturnal animals will actually use it when it’s available. The key is to give them options: places to hide completely from the UV and places to bask should they choose to do so. 

I use Arcadia’s Shadedweller lighting for all my geckos. However, since the food for my crested geckos has D3 in it, I don’t want to cause them to overdose. So I only leave the light on for a few hours in the morning. I do plan to find a diet without D3 added so that I can give them more light. 

If you’re curious about UV light and its benefits for different types of reptiles, Arcadia has a great resource. 

(Above photo is Trico sleeping. Fun fact: Crested geckos don’t close their eyelids when they sleep. Instead, they have a transparent scale called a spectacle that protects the eye. You can tell when they’re sleeping, because their eyes sink in a bit. Their color will also be less vibrant, or “fired down.”)

They’re some of the most docile reptiles out there

There are some crazy cresties out there, don’t get me wrong. But, for the most part, they are calm yet active creatures. Behavior varies between individuals, so you’ll want to spend some time with a few different geckos before you find the personality type you want. 

For example, my girl Wander is super relaxed yet curious. She always wants to see what I’m doing, but not because she’s afraid of me. She has willingly jumped into my hand on a few occasions, and she’ll mostly just sit in my hand rather than jumping around. Trico, on the other hand, is very skittish. I don’t know if this was shaped by her previous owner, but she will run and hide if she thinks I might be reaching in to pick her up. She’s gotten better with time, but she’s still wary of me. 

The key to a calm gecko is to provide plenty of hiding places. For my geckos, I’ve added plenty of silk plants they can hide in. They also have cork bark tubes and some of these elevated hides. This helps them feel safe during the day while they’re sleeping. Generally, these geckos will choose a favorite place to sleep and come back to it day after day. 

And that brings me to another point. I recommend not bothering your geckos during the day, or at least not doing it regularly. If you prefer to clean during the day, find out where they’re sleeping and quietly clean around them. My geckos are typically in their elevated hides during the day, so I can clean without them ever knowing I was there. 

The best time to handle them is during the evening hours. (Mine generally start waking up around 7 or 8 PM.) Yes, they’ll have more energy then, so they might keep you on your toes. But these are normal waking hours for them, and you want them to feel comfortable sleeping during the day. If they’re stressed, they might not get the sleep they need.

If you put the time, money, and effort into caring for them properly, crested geckos are some of the best pet reptiles out there, especially for beginners. But this is probably not a good pet for you if you’re looking for an animal that will just “chill” with you. A bearded dragon, ball python, or leopard gecko may be a better choice if that’s what you’re looking for! 

[pomegranateanarchist]

things about the lightning thief musical

[rhenal]

To the Void with the Void

Few things in Dragon Age lore bother me quite as much as the Void. It appears just about everywhere, in every faith, but what any one teaching says about what it actually IS never seems to be consistent - even in the same set of teachings.

Come with me on this journey, as I go through the Dragon Age Wiki page on the Void and follow every single cite note to the source - and look through those cited sources as well.

It starts with a brief summary, then goes into Chantry beliefs, because of course that comes first. It lists some verses from the chant. 

All that the Maker has wrought is in His hand Beloved and precious to Him. Where the Maker has turned His face away, Is a Void in all things; In the world, in the Fade, In the hearts and minds of men.

Passing out of the world, in that Void shall they wander; O unrepentant, faithless, treacherous, They who are judged and found wanting Shall know forever the loss of the Maker's love. Only Our Lady shall weep for them.

—Canticle of Threnodies, 12:5

So... the void is both a vague emptiness in everything the Maker doesn’t like and the Andrastian version of Hell? Right. How conveniently vague. It never says ‘the Void’ though, just ‘a Void’. 

Next follows some extrapolations. Since I know that fanon and canon tend to intermingle a lot in small, subtle and insidious ways, I shall stick as close to the source material - and only the source material - as the wiki and the rest of my resources will allow for, while mostly ignoring the wiki-specific text. So. Let’s follow the cite notes, in order. 

The first one refers to a conversation with Sebastian in DA II. I don’t have that DLC, because I think that guy is kind of an arse and not worth my money, and after over an hour of searching both the wiki and youtube, I have not found this conversation, so I’m gonna drop that trail for now. 

Second cite note also refers to a Sebastian conversation, but this is one I can actually find. It’s a banter conversation between him and Isabela. 

Isabela: So, I've never understood why the Chantry says if you're good, you'll be taken up to the Maker's side. Sebastian: Those who die with the sins cleansed from their souls will walk beside the Maker in eternity. Isabela: That doesn't sound fun! Isabela: If they really want people to be good, shouldn't they offer an afterlife with... lakes of wine and a dozen naked virgins? Sebastian: Anyone who wants that will be going to the Void. Isabela: Sounds like that's where all the good parties will be.

So, Andrasian hell. K. Still doesn’t tell me anything useful.

Next few cite notes are grouped up. These unfortunately refer to books that I do not have access to at the moment - World of Thedas vol. 1 and the Dragon Age Origins official game guide - so I’ll simply settle for sharing the statement on the wiki.

The sinners are lost, endlessly wandering the Fade or even returning to the "ether" (the primeval matter of the Fade) from which they were made.

So, conflating the Void and the Fade now, are we? The next sentence references the Canticle of Threnodies, saying that it says that the Void is a place within the Fade. Time to check out what’s available of that Canticle myself...

Huh. Oh, that’s a lot. Yet after reading it all, the only mention of the Void I could find is in 12:5 above. “Where the Maker has turned His face away, Is a Void in all things; In the world, in the Fade, In the hearts and minds of men.” I think that can be interpreted in a lot of ways. It doesn’t quite say “The Void is a place in the fade” to me. It just says that there is an emptiness - a Void - in everything that the Maker found fault in. And he certainly found fault in the Fade, according to earlier verses in that very same Canticle. I don’t know, but this instance seems more figurative to me. Maybe I’m wrong. 

Moving on. Up next is another Chantry verse. 

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.

—Canticle of Andraste, 14:11

I can’t help but notice how ‘abyss’ isn’t capitalised in this verse. I checked in game - it’s not capitalised there either. 

This verse bothers me. When reading further into the codex entry of “Here Lies the Abyss”, there is some musings by Revered Mother Juliette accompanying the verse. They read as follows:

Chantry sisters have long debated this section of the Chant of Light. It is tempting to assume that the "well of all souls" is a literal well, but such imagery appears nowhere in Andraste's other works. An examination from Threnodies 1:4 yields clues:

From the waters of the Fade you made the world. As the Fade had been fluid, so was the world fixed.

It is possible—even likely—that the "emerald waters" Andraste refers to are the substance of the Fade, which began as an "ocean of dreams" (Threnodies 1:1) and was reduced to a well—bottomless but limited in scope—by the Maker's creation of our world.

Is Andraste urging the listener to come to the Fade? Should we take "From these emerald waters doth life begin anew," as literal evidence of reincarnation—or even of life after death, as the Cult of Spirits suggests—or as a figurative benediction indicating that the Maker is the source of all life, and in finding His embrace for Eternity, we will only be returning our souls from whence they came?

Vague, is it not? Juliette seems as confused as I am. 

Now, I remember when The Descent came out. When seeing The Wellspring at the end of that story, a lot of think-pieces popped up in the Meta community about how it looked an awful lot like what Andraste might have been describing in that Canticle of hers. Note how, in the Wiki page for the above-mentioned codex entry, there is a trivia section with a quoted passage from The Calling? 

"It’s where Andraste goes to speak to the Maker for the first time. It’s where she convinces him to forgive mankind. It was supposed to be this beautiful temple deep under the earth surrounded by emerald waters."

Interesting, no?

If anything, it seems safe to say that The Chant doesn’t seem very interesting in defining just what either the Void or this abyss is in the first place, and anything further simply seem to be interpretations by various Chantry people, which is hardly a reliable source of anything.

Continuing down the Wiki page on the Void, we have the Elven beliefs section. Something something The Forgotten Ones dwell there - the cite note leads us to Codex Entry: Elven God Andruil. Well. Not beliefs of modern elves, then, since this entry is found in the temple of Mythal, but that’s splitting hairs. 

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking The Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss. Yet even a god should not linger there, and each time she entered the Void, Andruil suffered longer and longer periods of madness after returning.

Andruil put on armor made of the Void, and all forgot her true face. She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands. She howled things meant to be forgotten, and the other gods became fearful Andruil would hunt them in turn. So Mythal spread rumors of a monstrous creature and took the form of a great serpent, waiting for Andruil at the base of a mountain.

When Andruil came, Mythal sprang on the hunter. They fought for three day and nights, Andruil slashing deep gouges in the serpent's hide. But Mythal's magic sapped Andruil's strength, and stole her knowledge of how to find the Void. After this, the great hunter could never make her way back to the abyss, and peace returned.

—Translated from ancient elven found in the Arbor Wilds, source unverified

Here is a much more clear distinction of the Void as an actual, tangible thing. Abyss is still not being capitalised, though. Abyss speaks to me of something deep down below. And the ancient Elves were actively encouraged to seek the deepest parts of the Fade, as seen in Codex Entry: Vir Dirthara: The Deepest Fade.

The pages of this book—memory?—are instructions on how to reach the deepest parts of the Fade, realms so far removed they're unmarked by Dreamers:

"Epiphany requires a mind smooth as mirror glass, still as stone. Put aside ten years for practice, and the next hundred for searching. What others have learned will ease your journey. Those who never manifested outside the Fade will find it easier to find its stillest roots, but it is rare the compulsion overtakes our brethren of the air."

Andruil roaming the Void was considered a bad thing by the Elves, yet seeking the deepest parts of the Fade was encouraged. That says to me that they are not the same. That says to me that the Void is not found in the Fade. 

The Andruil codex entry also says that “all forgot her true face” and that because of her actions, “plague ate her lands”. The idea that it was Andruil who caused the Blight has been around for a long time. This codex entry is the source of that theory. So far, I am inclined to agree that it certainly sounds like that may be the case. So. Quite possibly, according to this tale, if this plague is indeed the blight, it can be concluded that the Blight came from the Void.

However, that is a whole lot of conditions. A lot of ‘if’s.

Next up, there’s talk about the legends of Fen’Harel and The Great Betrayal - which we know for certain fact by now is a lot more complicated than the legends make it out to be. However, I don’t remember there being any mention of the Void or an abyss - or even the Forgotten Ones - being mentioned in our conversation with Solas in Trespasser. Sometimes I wonder if the Forgotten Ones are just a trail that Bioware wants to drop, but then I remember that their most explicit appearance in all the games so far is as recently as Jaws of Hakkon. Well. Back on track. 

The cite notes here only lead me to Arlathan: Part two and the Dread Wolf codex entry - both tellings of the Dalish legend, which tells me nothing new. The Forgotten Ones were allegedly trapped in the abyss. Might be good to point out that these legends also appear to imply that the Forgotten Ones came from the abyss, or at least that it was their home. “[...]if only the Forgotten Ones would return to the abyss for a time.“

Hmm. The Void wiki entry next says that The World of Thedas includes accounts of the Evanuris being trapped in the Eternal City. I thought that was just a theory. I really need to get that book. Clear some things up.

On to the next cite note, which leads me to the codex entry Elgar’nan: God of Vengeance. Another Dalish account, but this one brings up something interesting that I’ve not paid attention to before.

The sun, looking down upon the fruitful land, saw the joy that Elgar'nan took in her works and grew jealous. Out of spite, he shone his face full upon all the creatures the earth had created, and burned them all to ashes. The land cracked and split from bitterness and pain, and cried salt tears for the loss of all she had wrought. The pool of tears cried for the land became the ocean, and the cracks in her body the first rivers and streams.

Elgar'nan was furious at what his father had done and vowed vengeance. He lifted himself into the sky and wrestled the sun, determined to defeat him. They fought for an eternity, and eventually the sun grew weak, while Elgar'nan's rage was unabated. Eventually Elgar'nan threw the sun down from the sky and buried him in a deep abyss created by the land's sorrow.

A deep crack in the earth - a crack referrenced to as an abyss no less - created by the Sun’s rage. 

Perhaps, this instead is a reference to the war in which the Evanuris were generals. The war that enabled their ascent to presumed godhood. And this chasm was opened by the battles waged in this war. 

My mind wanders to The Abyssal Reach in the Western Approach. You know the one - the ginormous black chasm? The one that you fall into during Here Lies the Abyss?

The Wiki entry on the Western Approach says that “This area was the site of a major battle during the Second Blight. The darkspawn swarmed out of the great chasm to the south named the Abyssal Rift and corrupted the land beyond recovery.” Note that it doesn’t say is that the chasm was created during the Second Blight. It would appear that it was already there. 

I’m thinking that this chasm is the same as the one referenced in Elgar’nan’s legend. 

Although - nothing about this says that this chasm and the Void is the same thing. But I suspect that they may be connected. 

Continuing down the Void wiki page, all that’s left is the cult of the Empty Ones - who worshiped the blight - as well as a fairly lengthy trivia section. Nothing I find here is new. The Empty ones say the Darkspawn came from the Void and that the Void is a place of nothingness. General mentions of a hungry, yawning void - which doesn’t really say anything because that’s a pretty general turn of phrase. The Staff of the Void’s description talks about a void as an absence of something, which once again sounds more like a turn of phrase than anything substantial.  

There is always the Anvil of the Void - the thing that the Dwarves used to forge Golems. Since it essentially functioned by transferring the soul of a dwarf into that of the Golem, it could imply that the Void is somehow related to souls - or at least Dwarven souls - which would support the verse from the Canticle of Andraste mentioned before. But then, we also know that Elven souls come from the Fade - or at least that is what is implied, considering their close kinship with Spirits before the Veil. 

And there is still the whole thing about where we have absolutely no idea where the Humans even came from in the first place...

So far, I’ve seen a lot of fairly interesting thinking points - but absolutely nothing that would really lead to any real consensus to what the Void even is - IF it even is. I can’t help but feel that despite the frequent use of the terms Void and abyss in both Elven and Chantry lore, none of these references are similar enough - or substantive enough - for me to be able to be able to safely conclude that the Void even is a special place or thing at all. It sounds to me like metaphorical speech far more often than it does anything else. A metaphor for deep underground or something. The Deep Roads. I don’t know. 

But then I remember The Descent again. The Wellspring. The ‘lake’ that seemed almost like a sky. The Dwarf legend of the king who dug so deep down that he and his entire thaig “fell into the sky”. It makes me wonder...

In the end, all I feel I can really conclude for myself is that whatever it is, the Abyss is mostly deep below, and the Fade is mostly up above. I don’t think they are the same. Also that the Blight probably comes from the Void in one way or another. 

But honestly, any more than that, the lore just doesn’t seem to converge into anything substantial anywhere. There is simply far too little to go on to make any solid conclusions, and what little lore there is appear to go into different places more often than not. We can assume, we can theorise, we can extrapolate - but what real lore there actually is tells us surprisingly little.

If anyone has any thoughts about this that are more coherent than mine, I’d love to hear them, because it feels like I’m thinking in circles.

[envoutier]

OATH ☆彡 Part I

    b a k u g o u  x  f e m ! r e a d e r  / /  f a n t a s y ! a u

a/n: this was originally posted on wattpad but i barely ever use that so here you go, tumblr. ALSO, this has not been edited since literally february so i’m sorry if it’s trash. ALSO ALSO - do you guys prefer a second-person POV over a third-person one? please let me know so i can keep it in mind as i write more of this series!!

series masterlist

word count: 2,002

    ↳ in which the reader finds a mysterious creature in the woods.

  ~~~

         1  9   J  U  L  Y   1  5  7  .  .  .

     The sun rose slowly over the horizon, shining on every surface of the kingdom. It lit up the cobblestone paths and wooden single-floor houses. It gave life to the landscapes and soft hills. Even the grass glistened as the light reflected off of the morning dew. It served as a natural alarm clock for all species, including non-magical animals, as you could tell from the loud calls of the rooster that sounded every day near this time.

The people were up and about, preparing for yet another day of working, exchanging greetings with all the familiar faces. Among them shot a bullet, weaving through the crowd. A young woman, oddly dressed in robes much too thick for the current temperature. Who was in such a rush in the morning?

The town square was lined wall-to-wall in kiosks set up first-come first-served for the merchants every morning. The girl ran through the crowded marketplace, dodging customers and sellers advertising their wares, occasionally yelling out an “Excuse me!” or “Sorry!” after rushing past.

“What’re you up to today, (Y/N)?” called a rough voice to the sprinting figure. One person in town was able to recognize the girl despite her disguise, even if it is admittedly pretty lackluster. The young woman perked up upon hearing her name called and tugged her hood onto her shoulders. She skidded to a stop and sent a friendly wave to the orange-haired man.

“‘Morning, Mr. Maijima! I’m running an errand for the Court Apothecary. Collecting something-or-other in the woods just past the Lycen fields.”

The man grunted in response and said, “Tell your dad that the thing he asked for is finished.”

She hummed in thought for a moment. “Actually, I’ll just pick it up when I come back from this job later. Father is probably busy in the castle with all his knight training stuff.” All she got was a grunt and a nod before the man put on his helmet and disappeared into the forge. (Y/N) wasn’t bothered by his lack of response. This was very in-character for the town’s blacksmith and she’s long been used to his personality.

Before she was able to disappear back into her clothing, a pair of women noticed (Y/N) and bowed deeply. She smiled and waved her hand, signaling for the couple to raise their heads. “No, please relax. You needn’t bow to me.”

The woman shared a reluctant look before straightening up. (Y/N) felt uncomfortable being treated so formally by the villagers, at least when she’s in the village casually and not on royal business.

She didn’t really see herself as a princess anyway, since she wasn’t even in-line for the throne. That spot was reserved for her cousin.

She continued her marathon to the edge of the town to the forest. She paused on the bridge for a moment and waved to the people ferrying on the rowboats below her. (Y/N) loved watching the water in the canal. The canal connects everyone and everything in the kingdom together. The water, in general, always made her feel calm and happy. (Y/N) could watch and play in it for hours if she was allowed. She always dreamed of one day visiting the sea that she often hears about from travelers and in story books. She leaned over the rails of the bridge and saw herself staring back at her. (Y/N) giggled and flicked a pebble into the water, rippling and distorting her image.

She shook herself from the distraction and continued along the path to her destination. The faster she got this done, the earlier she could go home and do whatever she wanted. Hopefully. As long as her father didn’t send her out on another errand of his. (Y/N) absentmindedly strolled through the remaining rural parts of town, forgetting her earlier haste. She waved and send encouraging smiles and words to the farmers working the fields. She had no doubt that they had been doing so since long before she had even awoken in the morning.

The once tan and grey stoned path beneath (Y/N)’s feet transitioned into a narrow dirt road. She saw the beginnings of the large bed of trees’ canopy and began her sprint anew.

The outskirts of the forest consisted mainly of willow trees, drooping leaves covering whatever was inside from the outsiders’ sight. Behind the natural curtain, though, streams of light peaked through the spaces in the trees, ethereally lighting up the forest. The falling specks of dust and leaves resembled fireflies, and the whole forest seemed to be teeming with otherworldly life.

Entering the giant wood, (Y/N) slowed down, panting slightly. She reached into the bag slung across her body and pulled out a roll of parchment. She unraveled it and scanned the items listed. They were all basic herbs such as Chamomile flowers and ginseng. The court apothecary needed them for remedies for common wounds the knights got. Since those injuries were definitely due to her father’s training, that was likely the reason she was lumped with the work of finding the ingredients, (Y/N) laughed. Though, it’s not like he’s the one doing the work himself.

After committing at least the first half of the list to memory, (Y/N) readjusted her large, white gloves and began sifting through patches of grass.

Having done this several times before and the royal tutor making her study the topic of medicinal herbs for hours on end, the job of finding and collecting the ingredients wasn’t overly time-consuming. Soon enough, (Y/N) amassed a fairly large pile of plants next to her, each one categorized and tied together with string.

How many bundles of basil did I need…? (Y/N) thought to herself.

She was snapped out of her inner questioning by an unexpected sound. It was somewhere between a shrill and a high-pitched whimper. (Y/N) whipped her head around to where it sounded like the noise originated. It seemed like it was just past that large tree to her right. There usually weren’t many animals that hung around so close to the kingdom’s border. She waited a moment, expecting the noise to repeat. It didn’t.

(Y/N) carefully placed the bundles of all the herbs she’d collected so far into her bag. She reached into her thick, olive cloak and fished out a small, intricately crafted dagger from a sheath strapped to her side. As the daughter of the head of the kingdom’s military, there was no way she would go into the unknown wood unarmed, even if she was a woman. Why else would she be suffering in so many layers of clothing in the summer heat? At least if whatever made the sound attacked her, she would greatly decrease her chances of getting injured.

(Y/N) carefully stepped closer to the tall oak tree, hand clutching the dagger in front of her in a defensive position. She heard the whimper again. Her eyes trailed to a section of brush at the foot of the arboreal plant and approached once more. She lowered her arms as she lowered her body to the ground, sitting on her left knee. (Y/N) placed her dagger back into its casing, believing anything that sounded that hurt couldn’t instead try to hurt her. She grasped a leaf stem and quickly pulled the bush apart, exposing the creature within it.

Said creature shrieked again when he felt the light hit him. He attempted to scramble to his feet and ducked under another leaf, but hissed as he put weight onto his back foot. All he could do was squirm on the ground, barely moving a centimeter a second.

The small animal was covered in light blue, almost white, scaly skin. It was just about the length of (Y/N)’s arm, not including it’s long, spiked tail. It’s sharp claws dug into the dirt as it tried to alleviate the pain coming from its hind leg. But the biggest part, or rather, the most attention grabbing part..

(Y/N) could only stare in shock. That can’t be what I think it is. Is that…

Is that a dragon?

 ~~~

I mean, sure, it’s not nearly as big as I’ve seen it depicted in paintings, but that has to be a dragon, right? (Y/N) internally panicked. It has wings! And scales! Oh God, what do I do?!

(Y/N) paused. It finally occurs to her that the young dragon had been hurt and frantically pulls out a roll of gauze from her ever-handy satchel. She reached out to the animal in an attempt to wrap their left leg, but the dragon hisses at her. There’s no way he would trust a stranger enough to let them touch him.

(Y/N) automatically retracted her hands from the creature. “Sorry!” she exclaimed instinctively.

The dragon continued to glare at what he assumed to be a threat and tried to back away from the larger human. In doing so, he once again aggravated his injury and shrieked. (Y/N) flinched at how pained the animal sounded.

“Um…” (Y/N) hoped that dragons could understand humans’ common tongue, otherwise she was about to sound really dumb talking to herself. “I promise I’m not trying to hurt you. I can wrap your leg so you can’t move it around as much since it’s clearly paining you…” She trailed off when the dragon approached the roll of wound dressing that laid on the floor and inspected it.

He attempted to circle and investigate the roll of gauze as much as he could without actually moving his lower body. After looking back-and-forth from it to the human in front of him, he decidedly nudges the roll closer to the girl. He follows it and steps closer.

(Y/N) internally freaked out. Does this mean it wants me to do something? What if I try to touch it and it gets defensive again?!

The girl took a deep breath and gently and slowly reached toward the animal. He didn’t move or flinch back like she had expected him to. She interpreted this as a sign to continue and she expertly unraveled the gauze to dress the bleeding cut on the dragon’s leg.

Upon the gossamer making contact with his open wound, the dragon let out a loud cry once again.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) apologized again. “It’ll only hurt for a second.”

She set the dragon’s fully wrapped leg back onto the ground and advised, “I know I said it’ll help with the pain earlier, but still try to avoid putting a lot of weight onto your hind leg.”

She really hoped that this dragon understood what she was saying.

The dragon stood up shakily. He curiously poked at the fabric covering his leg.

“Ah, please don’t do that! It might irritate your injury again!”

He looked up the human that helped him. He waddled forward and nuzzled his feathered head against her arm in thanks. (Y/N) stared in shock. Just minutes ago, this very animal was baring it’s sharp, predatory fangs and her, but now he’s snuggling up next to her like a tame house cat. She swore she even heard it purring - or, at least, the dragon equivalent to that noise.

(Y/N) looked up, suddenly realizing how long it had been since she first left the village to collect the herbs. She abruptly stood up, separating herself and her newfound friend. Said creature nudged her foot with his snout and looked at her with curious eyes, wondering where she was going. She reached down and ruffled the feathers on his head. “I’ve been gone for a while. I need to head back and give these herbs back to the doctor.”

She opened up her satchel to double check that she collected all the ingredients she was sent out for when the dragon jumped up and landed inside her bag.

“Huh? What are you doing, buddy?” (Y/N) questioned. Her only response was the dragon turning and using the bundles of herbs as a nest to rest in. She sighed.

Okay, I guess I’m bringing a tiny dragon back to the castle with me.

 ~~~

    ↳ PART TWO

[nintendotreehouse]

The 900 Wonders of the World

I was fixated on maps from the very first The Legend of Zelda game. I studied the background art in that manual, obsessed over sketches in magazines, and pored over the screen-by-screen composite map in that multigame Official Nintendo Player’s Guide. You remember that thing? Pretty sure my mom tossed that out, considering it ended up in dog-eared tatters by the time I moved on to the Super NES. The deferred pleasure of analyzing those images late at night when I wasn’t allowed to play games, spotting a boulder that looked a smidge out of place and knowing that tomorrow I’d go check it out with bombs in hand…it felt like planning an adventure, and the anticipation was almost as sweet as the following day when I journeyed out toward glory or (frequent) failure.

There were no indicators for secrets back then—I guarantee you I used the Blue Candle on every single tree on this screen (having to exit and reload the screen after each attempt).

I’m back at it again with Breath of the Wild. I’ve long since finished all the quests and found all the gear in my current playthrough, and have now settled into a relaxing postgame—the Great Korok Hunt. This is not for everyone, as the sheer number of these little dudes will scare off all but the most dedicated adventurers. But for me, it’s a wonderful postscript to one of my all-time favorite games—a long journey stripped of all urgency, through which I can appreciate the world through the lenses of the environmental artists and designers who served as its architects.

Seemed like a Korok should’ve been here on Mekar Island, but there were just these guys, so I got my bones on and hung out for a bit. “When in Rome,” and all that.

Make no mistake—every Korok in this game was placed intentionally, a little hat-tip to the player rewarding them for finding some corner of the world where many travelers will never set foot. But they’re well hidden, and so are countless topographical features themselves. There are so many nooks and crannies scattered about that only the most ardent adventurers will ever see them all, let alone spot the creatures hiding among them. It’s intimidating.

Enter what I call the “Korok Mask/Hero’s Path salvation combo,” courtesy of the Master Trials pack that’s coming out on 6/30 and is part of the game’s Expansion Pass.

This thing will be stapled to my face for the entire month of July.

For Zelda sessions, what I do right now is begin by spending 15 minutes or so studying a particular region on my map. The topographical details are exceptional when you zoom in, and coupled with the markings of the Koroks I’ve already found, I can identify suspicious areas and stamp them. I lay out 20 or 30 promising spots, then warp in and start exploring—as I look for Koroks, I also grab any regional loot I might need to get my last few gear upgrades. While this is satisfying in and of itself, I consider the goodies coming in Expansion Pack 1 to be serious upgrades for my hunting life. Take this arboreal number up above—the Korok Mask, complete with a rattling leaf and spinning pinwheel. Wearing this thing and heeding its cues to know when I’m getting warmer, Korok-wise, is a gift of untold value.

You’ll be shocked when you see where you haven’t been.

The Hero’s Path feature that comes with the pack is equally valuable—when you toggle it on, it instantly shows you huge swaths of land that you haven’t set foot in, and I guarantee your reaction the first time you enable it will be the same as mine: namely, how are there that many places I HAVEN’T wandered through?! I’ve played through this game countless times during development and since launch, and there theoretically shouldn’t be places I’ve never seen…and yet there are, tons of them even, and each has its own story to tell.

Stumbled upon this little gulch because it looked strange on the map—flushed several bears from the den I’m crouching on and stole their honey and fruit supply after they bolted. Annnnnnnnnnd…there was a Korok in a stone ring by a nearby tree.

This sort of gameplay is not for everyone, to be sure. You have to be a person who simply loves exploring for its own sake, not for any specific in-game goal or benefit—by and large, the expanded inventory you’ll get for the additional Koroks will be less necessary by the time you embark on the great hunt. But for those who can tap into the primal urge to wander a strange land simply to know it—you’re in for a treat.

—Nate B.

[cutemonstercare]

5 Signs That Your Tarantula Is Stressed And How To Help

Since tarantulas can’t talk or make sounds like other animals, figuring out if your T is stressed may seem like an impossible task. Luckily, the signs of a stressed tarantula are pretty specific and once you know them, you’ll be able to see when your T is upset and immediately fix the possible causes.

What are the signs that your tarantula is stressed?

Tarantula takes up a threatening pose

Bald spot on the abdomen due to flicking of hairs

Tarantula is hiding behind its legs

Excessive climbing, especially if you own a terrestrial T

Abnormally high activity levels

If you see any of the above behaviors in your T you should know you’re dealing with a pretty unhappy tarantula; and if you see your spider display all of the above, your T is close to a panic attack.

Read on to find out how to destress your pet tarantula – the big, hairy babies of the spider world who can have a full-blown anxiety attack every few seconds!

5 Signs Your Tarantula Is Stressed

Although tarantulas don’t have emotions, these neurotic loners definitely show signs of stress, and more often than you might realize.

The most obvious sign of stress is when a tarantula tries to bite, but if you can read all the warnings that come before fangs break skin, you and your tarantula will be much better off.

1. Tarantula takes up a threatening pose

When your tarantula is relaxed, it will sit on the ground with its legs bent and its abdomen level. This comfortable, relaxed state can, however, be destroyed by the slightest disturbance.

When that happens, and your tarantula is mildly annoyed that its peace was interrupted, you will see it go into a defensive stance, lifting one or two legs.

Your tarantula is already experiencing stress when it is in a defensive pose, but when it moves into a threatening stance, its stress levels are close to boiling (or is that biting) point.

In the threatening stance, your tarantula will lift its first two legs and extend its pedipalps fully into the air, basically flashing its fangs. On top of that, the T will also lift its thorax to show how big and scary it is and that it means business – one more misstep and it will strike.

This tarantula gives a clear warning!

2. Bald spot on the abdomen due to flicking of hairs

New World tarantulas have urticating hairs they use as a defense mechanism. But tarantulas don’t just flick these hairs when directly confronted by a predator; they do it when stressed. So, if you see a bald spot on your T’s abdomen, it’s time for some stress relief.

Do keep in mind that bald spots also occur when your tarantula is getting ready to molt. To tell stress apart from premolt, you will have to look for other signs that your T is nearing its molt.

This includes sporting a nice thick (sic) booty that looks like it is ready to burst, as well as refusing to eat.

3. Tarantula is hiding behind its legs

Don’t confuse this with a death curl! The main difference between a death curl and this “make me disappear” curl is that the tarantula pulls its legs over its head as if it’s trying to hide behind it.

It actually looks cute but is definitely not an “aww” moment – your tarantula is scared, and you need to figure out why and fix it.

4. Excessive climbing

If your ground-dwelling tarantula suddenly turns into an arboreal, then you know something is wrong.

Excessive climbing is usually an indication that something in your tarantula’s enclosure is not quite right and your tarantula is so stressed-out because of it, it’s trying to escape by scaling the walls.

For terrestrials, climbing is a dangerous business because a fall can be deadly, especially if the landing is anything but soft – for example, the rim of the water dish or some decorative rock.

5. Abnormally high activity levels

Tarantulas are often affectionately called ‘pet rocks’ – they don’t really move a lot, especially during the day since they are nocturnal. So, if your T suddenly turned into Dora the Explorer, something is up.

Something in the enclosure is most probably causing stress to your tarantula. It can be anything really, remember how I said Ts are actually big babies? Yip, new substrate, a new pebble, a noisy cricket, you name it, and there’s a possibility of it being a stressor to your T.

What Causes Stress In Tarantulas

Okay, we covered signs of stress and some of the things that may upset your T…but there’s more. Your T can experience various other stressors.

Shipping shock

You can imagine how it must feel for this relatively small creature (in comparison to the transportation vehicle) when traveling. It will be a constant battle to try to maintain equilibrium with all the vibration, bumping, turning and bouncing happening.

It must be very tiring and painful –with getting smashed against the container numerous times there’s no way a T will arrive at its destination unbruised. This is called shipping shock, and your T will require a lot of peace and quiet to recover.

What to do:

Place tarantula in its new enclosure.

Put enclosure in a quiet and dimly-lit part of your home.

Make sure there is a hiding place inside the enclosure for the T to take shelter in.

There should be a water dish in the enclosure.

Don’t feed it.

Go away, leave it alone except for a brief check once a day.

The tarantula below displayed this behavior after rehousing. As you can see, the new enclosure is not optimal at all.

Bright lights

Tarantulas are dark-dwelling creatures. Yes, you may see them outside during the day, but they will mostly avoid direct sunlight.

Evidence suggests that tarantulas do need exposure to a normal day/night lighting sequence as this helps them with their seasonal cycles but do not expose your tarantula to direct sunlight for any reason. This excessive heat will no doubt cause stress.

What NOT to do:

Do not place a bright light over your T’s cage; normal room lighting is more than sufficient.

Tarantulas should not be forced to endure constant daylight or darkness. They need a day/night structure to help them with normal functions such as molting, fasting, breeding, etc.

Do not expose your T to UV light. Tarantulas’ light sensitivity is most severe in the ultraviolet segment of the spectrum, so be kind to your tarantula and don’t force them to live under what is equivalent to a glaring spotlight.

Expressway fever

I know you want to see your tarantula all the time, and for this reason, might be inclined to put its enclosure in an area where there is a lot of traffic. But hang on a second and put yourself in your T’s claw tufts; it’s not nice when the waiter seats you near the entrance of a restaurant is it?

The constant movement and distraction can be enough to force you to go hide in the bathroom. Same can be said for your tarantula – if it hides away in its burrow all the time, it may be suffering from stress caused by all the movement.

Give your T some privacy and peace and quiet for goodness sake!

What to do:

Move your tarantula to an area of the house where there is less traffic.

Stereo effect

Tarantula’s do not have ears. They ‘hear’ through the hairs on their legs. So, if you feel the vibrations of the sound form your stereo, imagine how it must ‘sound’ to your tarantula if it is in close proximity.

That guy with the jackhammer outside your window at 7 in the morning caused you a lot of stress, didn’t he? Well, you’re doing the same to your T if your music is loud enough to feel.

What to do:

Move your tarantula away from the stereo or alternatively, don’t play your music loudly.

Starvation

This is a no-brainer; excessive hunger is a great stressor. Although tarantulas can go for long periods without food, it does not mean that they’re not experiencing stress during that time.

What to do:

Feed adult tarantulas one cricket every 10 to 14 days. Baby Ts should be fed 1 to 2 times a week. Remember, if your T refuses to eat, it may be getting ready to molt.

Dehydration

Your tarantula can get dehydrated for various reasons, including incorrect humidity levels in its enclosure. This is sure to cause physiological stress. Luckily, it is something that can easily be fixed.

What to do:

Figure out what is causing the dehydration. Does the T have access to drinking water, is the humidity in the enclosure too low, etc.? If your T is very dehydrated, implement emergency measures by placing it in ICU.

Interesting fact: Tarantulas get most of their water from the food they eat.

Heat/cold stress

Much like humans, a tarantula’s temperature runs very close to its upper limit. That is why when things get too hot, Ts will quickly suffer physiological stress. For this reason, it’s best to ditch that heating mat the over-eager pet shop worker sold you.

A good indication of the right temperature for your tarantula is you; if you’re comfortable in your home, your tarantula will be too.

When it comes to cold, tarantulas can tolerate cooler temperatures much better than excessive heat. If the temp drops below 50°F, you can expect your tarantula to get stressed somewhat.

What to do:

Remove the heating mat if you used one.

If cold is the stressor, slowly raise the temperature to a heat you feel comfortable in. If you’re comfy, your T will be too.

How To Tell That Your Tarantula Is Relaxed?

If you find yourself staring at a pet rock, then you’ve nailed it – your T is ridiculously happy and so relaxed it couldn’t be bothered to move.

These big, hairy creatures are intimidating to many, but if you own one, you know that they can act like toddlers at times, throwing tantrums at the slightest.

But, if somehow you can get it right to provide them with stability and a calm environment in which all their needs are met, you won’t see them display any of the above signs. Ain’t that grand? You’ve cracked the secret spider code, and your T will live a long and totally chilled life.

If, however, you’re not that lucky yet and you wish you could just give your tarantula some Xanax to relax, don’t worry; some Ts are just born highly-strung grumps, and there’s nothing you can do but love them for the neurotic babies they are.

[chaosamplified]

Answer all the questions!

Alisons: Sexuality?

gay 

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

he/him, male

Amaryllis: Birthday?

January 23, 2000

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

I think so

Baneberries: Favorite song?

im really feeling Dimple by BTS right now

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

my home family is me, my dad and Cammie. before college I saw my mom once a week. my dad’s side of the family is a bunch of Polaks, my grandma says she isn't polish but we have other thoughts (thats a joke...kind of) they are all mostly not affectionate and they show they care by making fun of each other and if you look at it from the outside it looks like we all really hate each other but thats just how we do things. my moms side is not like that at all, they all pretend to really care about each other but theres a split where half of them are really liberal and the other half is very conservative and borderline racist. I don't doubt that they all genuinely love each other and they do provide for each other in crisis times but they don't really....like each other u know. and the two sides of my family could start world war 3 with the hatred they have for each other 

Begonia: Favorite color? 

steel blue 

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

turtle 

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

night person 

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

id be a cat they are always so chill and they know they can do whatever they want and they're right  

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

the house I lived in only had 1 story that was safe for children to be in so I was very bad at using stairs until I was 12 because I never had to 

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth? 

if I could do whatever I want id probably visit my mom and apologize for all the things I would never say otherwise. spend some time with Charlie and Lio. tell him all of the things im too afraid to say now. and end the day with Cammie and my dad, probably crying. 

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

single

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

greece maybe? somewhere on the Mediterranean that isn't Cassis because I want variety 

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?  

not yet

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  

2 in each ear 

California Poppy: Height?  

5′1

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

no but I wish they were real

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  

green sweatshirt, black “skinny” jeans, black vans, green and orange floral hat 

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

I kept my closet light on every night for the first like 10 years of my life 

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  

Lio

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

courier new 

Columbine: Are you tired?

eternally (not actually, im chillin right now)

Coneflower: Dream job?

head songwriter/performer/art coordinator/all that shit for a touring solo act (me, im the act)

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

Puppy and Fred were both Dalmatians, and then Allie and Tom who were cats (I still have all of them at home except for puppy)

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Aquarius 

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

ive done lots of things that are worth having me remember, im not sure that ive done anything worth having other people remember 

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?  

literally not care at all

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

Cammie I think

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

talking about things when they actually matter 

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

I finished editing one of my songs! I performed live for the first time in over a year! I uhhh started growing a penis!

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

fine, not extraordinarily good but not bad 

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

not one bit 

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  

nothing :) sleep?

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

fantasy ideal is like. waking up and making out with my boyfriend and then going to an amusement park for a couple hours just cuz we can, spending the evening performing and then getting wasted with that same boyfriend in our luxurious house 

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  

play piano and lay on piano 

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

like 5 that I would genuinely consider friends 

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

I try too hard at some things and not hard enough at other things and never the right amount about literally anything

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

I can see anything as art or potential art 

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?  

hm. well. inability to talk about things when they matter. boobs. ugly in general. lazy. the list goes on

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

I really liked creating entire universes. like literal different planets and creatures that live there and relationships between them and the way they live their lives. 

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?  

my mom going to jail

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

I picked Sam as a holder name while I was discovering that I was trans because it was very easily gender neutral and started with the first letter of my birth name and then when I came out I still hadn't picked a better name but I didn't want to hear my birthname anymore so I just said I was going by Sam. when I changed it legally I made it Samuel because I no longer related to gender neutrality and I never had a nickname growing up and wanted Sam to be my birthname. Somehow Alexander just came to me as a middle name, I didn't really think about it at all and was doodling things about names and wrote “Samuel Alexander” and was like huh. and didn't think about it for months. and then in class one day I said “guys I don't even have a middle name” and Hailey was looking up names and came up with a couple and wasn't satisfied with her findings and then she found Alexander and was like “ok this one for sure” and I had never even mentioned to her that I was considering Alexander and then I was like well this is it. later I realized that when I was little I usually picked the name Alex as my character names but then decided I couldn't use it because I wasn't cool enough. I still feel like im not cool enough for the name Alex but now I go by Sam to some people and Alex to others 

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Jackson, Michigan. I usually thought that it sucked because theres not a lot for like teenagers to do there. but I was never one of those who despised it there, which is how most people who live there feel. now that im in Ann Arbor I realize that there just aren't a lot of opportunities for what society says teenagers should do, but that we made do. I realize now that Jackson is actually pretty rad and I can't wait to go back there tomorrow. I miss it a lot. 

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

really awful lavender walls with pink, green, yellow and blue butterfly decor everywhere. my sister and I shared it and never changed anything about it from the years of 2003-2012 (2012 being when we moved out)

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  

I kind of mentioned this before. It sucked in lots of ways. I was really suicidal for a long time. I hated all of my family situations. I thought I would never amount to anything, I thought I would never have the courage to come out as anything. I didn't think I was gonna go to college. but I also had some really awesome lovely friends in middle and high school, Max, Hailey and Eli in particular. Eli and I have some differing views and don't talk a lot anymore, and Hailey and I had a really bad falling out, but we had no tension it was great. with Max is where most of my “teenage fun” (?) happened tho. he had a car and we did dumb shit like go to Cascades and random parking lots and grocery stores. we smoked weed once and got drunk once. those days were great and I never thought about my family and was never suicidal when I went out with Max on random high school nights

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

we were moderately close when I was really little, and then my parents started getting divorced and some shit went down between us and we didn't talk for 6 months. when I started talking to her again things were very tense. I didn't like her and I didn't want her in my life at all. our relationship is still strained but I love her now and were never going to agree on everything and she's always going to hold to a lot of her ways, and were never going to have the relationship I wish we did. but she's doing her job as a parent now and thats what I care about. she has a very specific personality based off of pop culture and ive kind of developed some of that in my own life. she's hard to explain

Onions: Tell about your dad.  

until I was like 5 I genuinely thought that he hated me, but in reality he was just stressed and worked all the time and didn't really know how to be a parent. we were never exactly close when I was young, I was kind of afraid of him. then the divorce happened and he realized that I am a person with thoughts and feelings and goals and that he was in charge of helping me develop, now all on his own. he didn't do a great job with that transition, and kind of just started treating me as an adult. but it worked. we got really close and stayed that way for a few years. then he got in a new relationship and all of her children moved in with us and they were awfully behaved and him and his girlfriend treated my sister and I as if we were also awfully behaved even though we aren't, so for that time period I had strong feelings that he wasn't being a good parent and was quite frankly being neglectful, which honestly was true. now that they no longer live with us (them? I don't live there anymore) I feel like our relationships is a lot better. could also have something to do with the fact that ive moved out. now that im rebellious and don't care what he thinks my life is a lot better. aside from parenting, he's a really cool person. he plays guitar and has lots of knowledge about musical equipment, he is the reason I took this path in life and he supports me because that was his dream too. he is also so good at being a mechanic like his customers are so loyal that he moved companies and most of them came with him, he's great at it and has so much knowledge. he just in general has a lot of knowledge and great stories and is very funny. I love him a lot

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

my Papa (grandpa on dads side) was my entire heart. he loved me more than anything and I felt the same about him. he died when I was 6 and I can't really get more into it because it is one of the saddest thing that has ever happened to me and I don't think I will ever get over it. his wife, my grandma, has surprisingly been one of my most supportive family members with my transition. she took me to France and not any other grandkids. I think im her favorite no offense. I also lived with her for a long time so we're moderately close. now that im older and don't care what my family thinks of me its really easy for me to talk to her. my grandma on my moms side lived with us 4 months of the year but she had some sort of mental problem that never got diagnosed that made it slightly uncomfortable to be around her, but she loved us with her whole heart and I love her too. her husband I only met twice in my life and I don't care about him at all

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

I met my crush by force 

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

I don't really have anyone that I look up to in the traditional sense 

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

in love. making sufficient money off my music that I can take extended break periods and my partner doesn't have to work. having exciting adventures all the time

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

god. lol

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

Cammie

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

not to be narcissistic but genuinely probably when I play a whole song on piano and can feel that im playing everything correctly 

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

this is an unfair question! I usually put the nerf in the middle of the night at Michaels story because its lit. 

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

uhhh being abused. haha

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

easy when they are social issues or they don't personally affect me. hard if I have to tell another person my personal views on them or something they do

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

Cammie

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

like 7 hours with waking up approx 6 times in there 

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

school. sometimes thats not enough and I don't get up

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

I don't have a job

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

I really like my blue/gold/white sweatshirt and the green and orange floral hat im wearing now (bc its from cassis)

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  

gay punk alcoholic wannabe skater kpoppie 

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

I reallllyyyy want a Yoongi funko pop at this moment in time. in general I never know.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

not knowing if he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

literally 0. i haven't read a book like last march (?) when I sped read The Kite Runner in 48 hours for a class 

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

I have no clue! hahahahahahaaaaaaaaa

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

unfortunately 

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

I want to dye my hair a fun color but am afraid 

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 8x14: “Trial and Error”

THEN: Crossroad demons and deals. Hellhounds. Kevin on his Prophet job. Goofer dust. The key to the Men of Letters Bunker.

Back at Fizzles’ Folly.

Days in the Life of Kevin Tran.

I guess Kevin abandoned his vegan diet.

He’s got something!

He’s also got a nose bleed. Ouch.

Dean decorating his room at the Bunker. :’)

Top it off with the picture of him and Mary. Please Dean, I don’t want to cry this early.

“I haven't had my own room – ever. I'm making this awesome. I got my kickass vinyl, I've got this killer mattress.”

I love him so much.

WHAT A DICK HEAD MOVE, SAM.

HA, Dean put up a grenade launcher is a decoration piece. AND there's the Purgatory weapon!

Dean cooked in the Bunker kitchen! Goddamn it, I love nesting/domestic Dean.

(I hope Dean cooked for Mary when she was around.)

The burger was so good Sam took it with him. Bless.

Eugh. Poor Kevin.

A “small” stroke???

“I figured out how to close the Gates of Hell.”

“Come here, you smelly son of a bitch.”

Aww, the happiness!

“The tablet says, ‘Whosoever chooses to undertake these tasks should fear not danger, nor death, nor...’ A word I think means getting your spine ripped out through your mouth for all eternity.” Oh.

Trial #1: Kill a hellhound and bathe in its blood.

“Look, you get on the net – see what you can dig up. I'm gonna go for a supply run because we need goofer dust, and the kid needs to eat something that's not ground-up hooves and pigs' anuses – not that there's anything wrong with that.”

Dean’s on a roll this episode.

I would have loved to have seen Garth and Kevin interact. That would’ve been awesome to see.

“This whole ‘saving the world’ thing – it's a marathon, not a sprint. You got to take better care of yourself.” Good words from Sam.

“Did you know that there are, like, 6,000 kinds of tomatoes?” haha. Sam probably did.

Sam’s got a lead: The Cassity’s.

“I got you a present. The, uh, blue ones are for the headaches, and the greens are for pep. Don't O.D.” Oh my god, Dean.

Shoshone, Idaho.

“Hey, pal, who runs this joint?”

“You're looking at her.”

Ellie.

“You guys here about the job?” A perfect opportunity to blend in.

Carl Granville.

“So you're not a Cassity? “

“No, my wife is. Her and her family own the place. I'm just one those, uh – what you call 'em? Trophy husbands.”

“You bed down in here. Breakfast is at 5:00, dinner is at 8:00, and in between, you're mine. Questions?”

“I miss my room.”

Dean, please. the room looks fine.

“Okay. Job is yours if you want it. But I better warn you – it's crap work.”

haha.

Alice Cassity.

“She's a real piece of work, huh?”

“Alice Cassity's a piece of something, all right?”

A piece of shiittt.

“So, what are we thinking?”

“What, dealwise? Well, Ellie's the help, so that rules her out.”

“And Carl doesn't really seem like the sell-your-soul type. So, Alice?”

“Ding-ding-ding.”

They couldn’t be more wrong.

“Clair de Lune” by Claude Debussy. 

Hellhounds are near...

RIP Carl Granville. Killed by a hellhound.

“This wasn't a wolf.” Ellie knew.

“Let's grab our stuff and get out of here.” NO NO NO. Not yet!

Carl made the demon deal to be with Alice.

“You think our demon signed up more than one schmuck while he was in town?”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

y e p

Sam, the man with the plan!

Time to meet the rest of the Cassitys.

Noah Cassity. “He's 71, worth a billion, and just married wife number 5, a 20-year-old lingerie model.”

Alice is the oldest.

Then there’s Cindy Cassity. “She had a single on the country chart a few years ago. Then she started hitting the bottle, and, well... Her last album was a bunch of holiday songs for dogs. My favorites were ‘Jingle Bark Rock’ and ‘Don't Pee on this Tree: Happy Arbor Day.’"

Margot, the youngest. “She ran away just before Alice and Carl tied the knot, lives in Paris.”

“Okay, tonight is an all-hands-on-deck situation. I'm gonna need one of you inside, serving dinner and pouring drinks – a lot of drinks.”

“Okay. Well, have fun. I won't wait up.”

“And somebody's gonna man the grill.”  

“What kind of grill?”

Goddamn, Dean’s great.

“I do like a man who can handle his meat.” OOOHHH ELLIE.

Dean would be a great chef.

There was no more wine in the bottle! Don’t be so damn dismissive.

Cindy is the devil.

“Get cancer and die, old man.”

“You first, sweetie.”

pfft.

“Are they always like this?”

“More or less.”

“How can you work here?”

“I love the property, I love the animals, and I tune out the people.”

Ellie’s awesome.

There’s the bombshell: Crowley was the demon that made the deal.

Kevin’s got a way to see hellhounds. "The dire creatures may be seen only by the damned or through an object scorched with holy fire."

You two are in WAY over your heads.

Dean in glasses!!! Hot diggity damn.

“I think you're really hot. You want to go to my room and have sex?” weLL SHE WAS REALLY DIRECT ABOUT THAT.

Wow, that was really hard for Dean to turn down (and I can’t say I blame him).

“Ellie, um... Rain check?”

“This is one night only. Sorry.”

Oohh, that should have been your clue, Dean.

RIP Margot Cassity. Killed by a hellhound.

“You can't do this. You can't—”

“Yes, I can. You want to know why? Because it's what I do. And, buddy, I'm the best.”

Well okay then.

“I'm a grunt, Sam. You're not. You've always been the brains of this operation.“ DEAN NO

“And you told me yourself that you see a way out. You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't.”

“'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get.”

You ever lose the will to live? ‘Cause that’s how I feel after hearing Dean’s monologue.

“I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls. One of my favorite songs. Ellie’s got good taste.

“Margie used to say that – that if we were rich, we'd all be happy.” Margot sold her soul for her family to be rich.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but there is something evil out there.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“It’s coming for me.”

There you go.

Damn it, Alice!

Ellie made a deal to heal her mom from Parkinson’s.

“That was a stupid move, Ellie.” SAID THE MAN WHO MADE A DEAL TO BRING BACK HIS DEAD BROTHER. Though I guess that gives him the full right to say it. Still, Dean, don’t judge her.

“I did it for my mom, Dean. What would YOU do for your mom?”

“Crowley didn't tell you about the 10-year ticking clock?”

“What? I knew that when I died, I wasn't going to heaven, but he never said anything about that or monsters.”

That’s despicable.

Euch, the hallucinations.

Sammy to the rescue!

RIP hellhound. Killed by Sam.

:( I hate the idea that Ellie’s going to Hell when she dies. I love her, she’s awesome.

“We'll track down another Hellhound, and I'LL kill it.” Stubborn as a donkey, Dean.

“I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it.”

“Sam, be smart.”

“I AM smart, and so are you.”

“Better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

I love Sam’s monologue to Dean. I love it and appreciate with all my heart.

Trial #1 is complete.

“I'm good. I'm okay. I can do this.”