#i think most of my current anxiety is spawning from this

[kentopedia]

dear corporations: the lines "this position is entry level" and "this position requires 3-5 years of experience" should not coexist on one job listing. hope this helps

[astarionancuntnin]

here's my masterlist with everything i've written! note that:

all fics are explicit and astarion x fem!reader unless specified

series and multichapter fics have their masterlist linked with all chapters and ao3 links

one-shots/requests will have their main theme mentioned in parentheses next to the title, and the full lists of content warnings are available on their linked post/ao3 page

Requests: CLOSED

Current pending requests: 3

- i am more comfortable writing astarion (spawn or ascended) and halsin, but im open to get out of my comfort zone and write other characters! - i write in third or second POV (more experienced with x reader/tav) - comfortable with most types of writing (fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort) - i am willing to go extremely dark and kinky (basically ask and if its above my limit ill tell you, but if ive already written about it, im cool with it) - send an ask and ill get started on it! (i am quite busy recently, but i promise to get around to your request sooner rather than later)

fics are posted in chronological order of creation

this list will keep getting updated as i upload more

full list below the cut!

she was a wildfire that couldn't be tamed; he was the night star admiring her ruthless dance

Undisclosed Desires (Denial of feelings, rivals to lovers) (part 1)

Masterlist

astarion and you, along with your other companions, have been traveling together for a few weeks now. he gets on your nerves at least once a day. but as much as you hate to admit it, your late night activites are plagued by him. little do you know, hes aware of the effect he has on you and intends to use that to his advantage.

Bad Blood (Mature, Angst, follow up fic to Undisclosed Desires, Astarion POV) (part 2)

Masterlist (not posted yet)

it was meant to be a nice, simple plan. get the sorceress to fall in love with him to assure his safety. what he didn't plan was to fall for her as well, and all the complications that came along with it.

A Lesson in Taming Your Dark Consort

(all fics in this series are one-shots that surround the dynamic between Ascended Astarion and his consort Malva (my oc evil tav), heavily BDSM driven)

Taming a Tempest (spanking, semi-public sex)

oh, to be the Vampire Ascendant's dark consort. to have eternity and enhanced powers right at her finger tips - only to be denied. but two could play this game, and Malva would make Astarion regret witholding anything from her.

read on ao3

read on tumblr

Dancing on the Edge of a Knife (knife play, orgasm denial)

ever since his ascension, Malva was convinced that Astarion was the only person who could understand her every twisted desire. well, almost. there are some things she still keeps to herself, he simply wouldn't understand this part of her, the one who dances on the very edge of her knife.

read on ao3

Contributions to Angels of The Night Collection

read on tumblr

Blood Sisters (MalvaxMerelind)

Die For You (Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, Ascended Astarion) Completed work!

contains some Shadowheart x fem!reader

Masterlist

the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on. and neither did he.

Meet Me In The Woods (predator/prey)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

it's astarion's turn to keep watch for the night. everyone's off to bed and he's still gone hunting and nowhere to be seen. you refuse to be the one to fill in for him again, so you venture into the woods looking for where he was last seen.

Midnight's Embrace (weed, polyamory)

astarion x female!reader x halsin

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the nether brain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

Nothing But A Dream (somnophilia)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you've agreed to take things slow with astarion, only partaking in nighttime activities when he specifically desires them, and this morning, he wants you. but he would hate to intrude on your precious beauty sleep.

Run, Little Fox (predator/prey, hate sex, mildly dubious consent)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

this brat of a rogue questioned your leadership one time too many, it is time he learns his place, and youll do it the only way he'll listen to you: with a challenge. if you win, he will be held accountable for his actions, but if he wins, he gets to use you every night. it doesn't matter anyway, you'll win... won't you?

Public Display of Affection (A!A, jealousy, semi-public/loud sex, hints of voyeurism feat. Gale)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

his consort - his beautiful, too kind for her own good - forever young lover. she was his, and his only, and he believed it was long overdue to make that statement clear among the rest of their group. after tonight, the only name spiling from her luscious lips would be his.

Death is Not an Escape (Mature, Dead By Daylight AU, heavy angst)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

it wasn't supposed to end like this, they were supposed to get out and defeat the absolute - together. but as a dark fog swallowed them whole, their fates changed drastically.

The Ways of Worship (Priest/Modern AU, Corruption)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

this faith was all you've ever known. so when you wake up a morning with the dreadful feeling that you've lost it, you do the one thing that makes sense - confess to your local priest. when he offers his guidance with the promise of making you whole again, you accept without a second thought. your first lesson begins tonight.

Remember Me (Angst, Audio adaptation)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you can't make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell - hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. it's all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come to rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.

sleeping next to astarion

A!A's children

your short future with astarion

A!A being possessive of his consort

[hmshermitcraft]

Gridoc 2 :D

Doc only likes people being afraid of him when they deserve it, and Grian doesn't deserve it. He doesn't want Grian to avoid him and he definitely doesn't want him to actively run away. He's seen it out of the corner of his eye, he'll be shopping and catch Grian come around the corner, spot him, and then do an about face and go back from where he came.

So, he invites the buttercups, and Ren, to a nice little picnic at spawn. Neutral ground, neutral people, no reason to be afraid. It works and Doc finally has the chance to talk to the guy, Scar and Mumbo too but they're more accomplices than instigators.

Calmly, and in English this time, Doc explains that pranks are fun, welcome, and expected, as long as both parties are in on the joke. He explains that he felt helpless and unable to defend his territory and why it was so upsetting. Grian understands, parrots also have nests after all and he knows what it's like to have one invaded, and he properly apologizes for taking it too far. Scar does too, Mumbo and Ren are too busy talking about their shared experience living in vans and busses to really care about the conversation at hand.

Things go back to normal, or closer to it, after that meeting. Grain leaves eggs, unhatched, around the hall of goat, like an Easter egg hunt. Doc puts a splash pot of levitation above Grain's door, and the little pranks continue on. They escalate a little bit as both parties grow bolder but it remains a game and not a war.

The only thing that's different is that both Grain and Doc are supporting a surprising, but not unwanted, growing affection for the other. It comes to a head when Doc is heading home one night and his eye fucking dies. Shouldn't have taken that last aerial view. He's under the Rock, Dwayne, currently, he meant to land on the bridge but missed, cause blindness and all that. He's busily squinting at his comm trying to make out the words to call someone and get him when Grian lands and asks if he's ok.

He is ok, as long as someone walks him home, wink wink. It's nice holding Grian's hand again, comforting and soft in his own. He doesn't have any anxieties about being led astray.

They reach the perimeter, lights from the hall of goat glow in the distance, brighter than the moon. "I can go from here, should be able to make it on my own if you want to go to bed."

"are you sure? I don't mind, I- I like...I like holding your hand."

"oh.. actually uh, I think I might need some guidance."

"I wish we would hold hands when you're not blind"

"me too" doc presses closer, Grian indulges him.

They make it all the way to docs room before he has any second thoughts, half of him wants to invite grian inside, show him his most personal space because he trusts and likes Grian. The other half of him is saying No Fucking Way, especially not when he's vulnerable, what if Grian betrays him? Well, shut up other half, he leads Grian through the door.

"I've never seen a creepers nest before.." he says in wonderment.

"they're very well hidden," doc pops out his eye and plugs it in, "usually reserved for special people."

"oh."

"mhm."

Awkward silence stretches on, doc scratches 'absentmindedly' at the base of his horn. Grain shifts his weight from foot to foot.

"can I kiss you?"

"please."

-s

first part!

Doc must really like Grian, because he wakes up the next morning with the bird hybrid tucked up against him. Doc rumbles, pleased, pulling Grian a little closer. Grian sighs, sounding like all is right in the world.

They start holding hands. They start kissing (only when nobody's looking, they know what the hermits are like.) Doc gets to find out what a parrot nest looks like.

And the pranks continue. Except now one is just as likely to lead into a candlelit dinner as it is a mess to clean up.

[tsukimefuku]

Overdue introduction post

She/Her • bi/pan • AuDHD non-monogamous lady • professional tinkerer • this year I’m gonna be unstable unstoppable

If you like anything I write, please leave a comment. I do my best answer each and every one made :)

I don’t usually take requests because I came back to writing in order to let my AuDHD run wild like a toddler with a pair of scissors, completely unbound by earthly restraints. However, I do take suggestions, if you’d like to send one in my Asks.

Pen name and meaning: Tsukime Fuku or Fuku-Chan. I wanted something to resemble the owl I feel like, most of the time (I have terrible sleeping issues). Fukurou (梟) in Japanese means Owl, so I just decided to shorten it in katakana (フク). I wrote Tsukime in kanji (疲明) mixing up the gloomy and tired aspect from “Tsuki” with the bright one from “Me”. I’m a tired, gloomy, somewhat optimistic millenial owl.

My letters from the LGBTQIAP+ community: B for kissing multiple genders and A for demisexual (I can’t spell, sorry). Also, I’ve got a wife.

Where I’m from: A country well known for being God's wild random sandbox experiment 🇧🇷 For that reason, English is not my native language (you can communicate with me in Portuguese, Spanish and English. If by any chance you say something in Italian, please make it three-year-old friendly).

Current fandoms: Jujutsu Kaisen (main) and Hazbin Hotel (secondary).

Former or everlasting fandoms: Death Note, Fullmetal Alchemist, flanaverse, Bojack Horseman, Rurouni Kenshin, Avatar (both The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra — I’m a Korra stan), Sherlock (books, stories, and BBC Series), Steven Universe, House MD, Supernatural, and other things I’ll add as I remember them.

Favorite genres of fiction: murder/mystery (b1tch! grew up reading Sherlock), terror, horror, drama and millennial comedy / dark humor. Currently, I’ve been getting into smutty fiction and rather enjoying it. I also want to write some chick lit stories, so...

Fun(?) facts about me I had enough time to come up with, instead of nervously sweating in the middle of a date thinking about them (this might get updated regularly, but probably won't - most recent will be at the bottom of the list):

Yes, I’m a criminal defense attorney. I love and hate my job multiple times a day.

I have a deranged type of humor (it's because of my inner demons. They have many voices. One of them is Carol)

I am unhinged and shitpost like a hell spawn. That's not a fun fact, it's a warning

I'm controlled by a monkey with a typewriter that lives inside my head. It feeds off of my anxiety during the day, then gives it back to me at night. It's lovely.

My writing process goes about like this: I get an idea. It plagues my every waking moment. If I don't write it, I realistically believe it might consume me into oblivion. So I write. Should I write because it's fun? Sure. Do I write to quench the thirst for dopamine of my inner demons (that have many voices, one of them is Carol)? Absolutely.

I got diagnosed with ADHD in my early 20's, and autism in my late 20's. These were definitely my roaring 20's, and we don't talk about it.

I try to be a kind person when I can. As a lady in her late 20's with some life and trauma experience involving mental illnesses, addiction, grief, and much more, you can always DM me if by any chance you need to talk about anything. I don't bite (much).

I realized I've been chatting with an online acquaintance that lives with a 12+ hour difference. That's how fucked my sleep schedule is — you can't fuck up your sleep schedule if you have none, amiright?

I need a soundtrack for everything I'm doing. It makes talking to people in real life very difficult.

I never know what day of the month it is. It's led me to receive happy birthday's unannounced and feel very confused at the people congratulating me on "my special day". I had done nothing special. It made no sense.

I tend to write very fast. It's the monkey's fault.

My most unpopular opinion: HIMYM ending was the correct choice, and made perfect sense for Ted and Robin.

My favorite quotes in English are the ending to The Great Gatsby (“so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past”) and a tidbit from Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest (“Truth is rarely pure and never simple”).

My favorite poem of all time is "Tabacaria" by Fernando Pessoa.

Something you’ll NEVER see me writing in love stories is romanticized jealousy and possessiveness. Everyone has their thing, but that’s really not mine, and I don’t enjoy writing it. When I DO write about jealousy, I like to explore the underlying insecurity and pain behind it.

I’m here to spread the non-monogamy queer agenda.

If you read this through the end, thank you, and I'm slightly concerned for your mental well-being. Come on over and have a cup of tea.

🦉

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

It's still dark as night as Wyll wordlessly drops a small pouch of coins in front of the barkeep and strides out of the doors of the tavern with his well-worn pack loaded onto his shoulder. He'd left the room as neat as he'd found it, though there may still be a small pile of ash from his last communication to Zariel. 

Found her & the spawn - expect delivery as soon as possible. 

The note had been brief, but hopefully enough to sate the archdevil for now, and to give her time to make a call to Captain Szarr. He's careful not to let his mind wander too far at the prospects to come from yielding such a prize. 

As Wyll walks towards the docks where the Sanguine Shadow awaits, the faintest hints of orange begin to seep up from the horizon. He looks around for a moment hoping to spot Karlach, but the woman is nowhere to be found. When he reaches the gangway, he sets his pack down and leans against one of the dock pilings and waits.

Karlach's bleary eyes flick up to her window as the first rays of sun peek through into her cabin. Godsdamnit, morning already. She sighs and crumples against the wall, utterly spent. A hodgepodge of tools and spare parts lay strewn haphazardly across the room. After much struggle, she'd managed to get into the casement on her own to replace a burnt-out plug and top off her coolant, but a trip to the mechanic would be necessary sooner rather than later.

But it's daybreak now. Wyll's likely been waiting long enough. If he's even bothered to come at all. Karlach cringes as she recalls their last interaction--his hand reaching out to touch her, then recoiling as she singed him. She sighs, pulls herself up to standing, and grabs her coat as she heads out into the misty morning air.

Wyll unfolds his arms and straightens his posture when he hears footsteps behind him. When he sees Karlach, there's a swirl of anticipation in his chest. "There you are," he says, greeting her with an easy smile. "I was beginning to think you'd had a change of heart."

Karlach returns the smile, the knot of anxiety slightly loosening in her gut. "Not at all! Sorry, had some maintenance work that needed to get done."

"Please, don't apologize," Wyll replies, lifting his brows towards the ship. "I'm sure this beast is a feat to maintain - one I'm looking forward to getting to know better." He regards her for a moment. "Are you alright? You seemed to be running a bit hot there earlier," he asks with a laugh, trying to ease whatever tension bothered her now.

"Oh, that," Karlach says with a wince. "I wasn't exactly referring to the ship just now. It's my engine that needs maintenance." She opens the lapel of her coat to reveal a swath of glowing skin across her chest, uncovered by the low neckline of her undershirt. A hint of bitterness creeps into her tone. "A gift from my former captain. She steals my heart and expects me to say 'thank you, saer.' What a nutjob." She rolls her eyes and closes the coat. "Anyway, all's under control for now. Shouldn't be searing anyone else any time soon. Glad to see you're still interested in joining up! I assume you've got some kind of seafaring experience?"

Wyll blanches at the sight. There's such sincerity in her words, but according to Zariel... 

"Oh, yes," Wyll says quickly, trying not to stare as he shifts his gaze back to her face. "Yes, I've served on a couple of ships in a myriad of positions - started off as a deckhand, eventually worked my way up to gunner and boatswain. If you're in need of a navigator, that's what I've been doing the most as of late, before I was relieved of my duties," he explains. "Not for any violations or offenses," Wyll amends, "but because there was a change in command. My previous commander wanted my skills allocated elsewhere."

Karlach grins. "Looks like Tymora's smiling on us today! As luck would have it, we're currently in need of both a new master gunner and a navigator's assistant. You'll need Cap's approval, first, of course. And Gale's, if you're to be his assistant. The positions are both a bit... touchy at the moment. Some baggage from the prior occupants. Come on, I'll take you to meet the captain." She grabs Wyll's hand and pulls him up the gangplank, escorting him across the deck as it slowly comes to life. 

A small smattering of crew stumble out from below deck and the mess hall, beginning any morning chores before they weigh anchor. The first mate marches herself right up to the captain's cabin and raps on the door. "Cap? I've got someone here for you to give the once-over. Potential recruit, with solid experience. Doe, I know you're in there too, so make sure you're both decent. Wouldn't want to scare him off."

Wyll's face heats as he hears a sequence of muffled giggling and shushing from the other side of the door, and a thump of someone falling -- or being pushed -- out of a bed. He suddenly finds a spot of paint quite interesting as he shifts his weight. A moment later, the door swings open, and a pale-haired man appears in the doorway, seemingly just now pulling on a shirt. 

"Good morning, Karlach," Astarion says with a smile, then shifts to face the man at her side. "And good morning to you too. Karlach," he says, turning back to his first mate, "who is this?"

"The recruit I mentioned, Wyll Ravengard," Karlach replies. "Doe, Shadowheart, and I met him last night. He's looking for a new gig, change in command on his old ship." She gestures between the men. "Wyll, this is Captain Ancunín."

"Pleasure to meet you, Captain," Wyll says formally, dipping into a small bow. "From what Karlach tells me, you're in need of someone to fill some empty positions. I assure you, I have extensive experience with seafaring - I've worked as both a gunner and a navigator in the past."

The captain surveys Wyll for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "How lucky we are to have found exactly the man we need on such short notice," Astarion says with a slight frown. "If you can handle responsibilities as a gunner along with working under Sailing Master," he elongates the word, "then I suppose we're in no position to turn you away." The captain extends his pale hand out to Wyll, who graciously accepts. "Karlach, please escort our new recruit to the navigator's quarters and allow them to get acquainted." He eyes Wyll a moment longer. "I'm not sure how much you've been informed of, but please forgive me for assigning Karlach to keep a close eye on you," he says, glancing at his first mate.

The first mate nods. "Understood, Captain. I'll see to it he makes it to the Sailing Master presently." She turns back to Wyll as the captain's door closes behind them. "I'll fill you in on the details later, but Cap has plenty of reasons to be careful. He's a good man, though. I trust him more than anyone." She sighs, then gestures toward the stairs down to the officer's quarters. "Follow me, our navigator's just over this way."

Astarion turns back around to face Doe, that beautiful, devious smirk returning to his face once more. “Now,” he says, stalking over towards the bed. “Where were we?”

'We were having a nice, peaceful morning,' says Doe pointedly, through a yawn. 'Ugh. I don't want to get up yet. Alas...' She struggles out of the covers, heavy-limbed and warm, and gets to her feet. She rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands.

'We should probably make sure Tara doesn't want to slice Wyll to bits,' she says. 'Don't look at me like that, we have to be responsible. And given the position you appointed me, it's important that I do some information gathering on this Ravengard fellow. And-' she presses a quick kiss to Astarion's mouth as he approaches, 'I've told Raphael in no vague terms that I will not owe him and he must be honest. So we need to get moving. Devils aren't known to be patient. Wear your finest, I'm going to need you as backup. And I daresay Gale will want to attend as well.'

She goes hunting in the wardrobes, settling on a cream poet shirt and cinnamon brown leather trousers with matching boots. 'This will do, don't you think? It doesn't seem right to show up in another red dress.' She fastens scabbards to hip and thigh and pulls on her soft leather coat. After some consideration, she loosens her hair from its braid, letting waves fall softly down her back. 'There. Positively unassuming. Nobody would look at me twice like this.' She shoots Astarion a brilliant smile. 'Come on, chop chop,' she says, clapping her hands smartly. 'Look sharp sailor, I'm not a patient woman.'

[johaerys-writes]

Get to know me

I was tagged by @baejax-the-great, thank you so much pal! 

Share your wallpaper: My phone background for the past six months or so has been the same Patrochilles art that I'm actually not sure if I should post here without permission from the artist lol. But I can confirm that it's the cutest, most loveliest drawing of them, and Achilles looks so baby in it and I love staring at it every time I open up my phone :')

The last song you listened to: Unbound by Asgeir

Currently Reading:  Ten Days That Shook The World by John Reed (don't ask why or how, but my autistic Special Interest of choice for the past 2-3 weeks has been the political intrigue surrounding WWI and how it fuelled the October Revolution so I've been reading any book/watching any documentary I can get my hands on about it), and I've also been listening to The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath while doing chores and stuff

Last Movie: Everything Everywhere All at Once with @baejax-the-great

Craving: Travel :|

What are you wearing right now: My fluffiest house robe and my fluffy slippers and super comfy and soft socks, and yes I'm still in pyjamas 

How tall are you: 167 cm, no idea how that translates in feet and inches lol don't make me google it

Piercings: I have one piercing in each ear, I've often thought about getting more but needles be scary 

Tattoos: 6, and planning to finish my half sleeve by the end of the year

Glasses? Contacts?: Glasses, and I do sometimes wear contacts as well

Last drink: I am currently drinking some lukewarm coffee with oat milk :3

Last show: In the past couple years I've become so bad with starting shows and actually sticking with them lol, but I did do a rewatch of Neon Genesis Evangelion fairly recently..... OH and I watched Interview with the Vampire with @baejax-the-great a little while back which was super fun!! (because apparently I can't watch something unless I can shit talk or go feral over it with Bae LOL)

Last thing you ate: Toast with peanut butter and an apple

Favourite colour: Oooh that's such a hard question to answer!! The first colour that comes to mind is blue -- I always gravitate towards some version of blue, and currently it's deep navy blue, but I also own a lot of powder blue stuff. It's either that or baby pink or cream tbh, but I also own a good amount of gold/mustard things as well. Yellow makes me happy. I find jewel green incredibly pretty though I weirdly don't own anything of that colour (which reminds me I should perhaps make that a priority)

Current obsession: I'm guessing this is a fandom related question, so I'm going to be predictable and say that I'm, as usual, obsessed with Patrochilles and most of the other pairings I am currently writing, even though anxiety over real life stuff hasn't let me engage with them as much as I want lately. I do think about them a lot and have lots of ideas for new stories, and I'm also working my way back into catching up with fics I love, which I haven't been able to do in a while despite the joy it normally gives me. Brains can be very uncooperative at times, but what can you do about it lol. 

Unrelated Obsession: As I mentioned earlier I have been obsessed with Russian and generally European politics of the early 20th century for some weird ass reason lmao, but I've also been reading an in-depth analysis of Aeschylus' life and work I found in some corner of my library, which led me to looking up some academic papers about it, which led me to signing up for an online course about Athenian tragedy, so um?? I don't know what it is with me and going down those endless rabbit holes lately ahah. 

Any pets: I have a cat, aka a baby and a bastard and a devil spawn all wrapped in one (he is currently sleeping like an angel after attempting to tear down the curtains)

Do you have a crush on anyone: Um. Like, on a real life person? A fictional person? I do have crushes on several of my mutuals so if y'all are reading it I'm kissing you on the forehead MWAH

Favourite fictional character: I can't choose, don't make me choose!!!!!!! I can't choose between my children. But if I had to choose then maybe.... Patroclus? But also, Achilles? But also, my OC Tristan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus from DA? But also Shiro and Keith from VLD? But also -- SEE, IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO CHOOSE

The last place you traveled: It feels like it's been SO long since I've traveled anywhere. I went to Aegina island last summer but since then I haven't been outside the city for even a DAY and it's been driving me crazy. I just need to see some green and blue and listen to nothing but birds or waves or the wind (at this point I'll even take the rooster that woke me up EVERY DAMN MORNING when I was in Aegina lmao). I'm planning on going on a day trip to Mycenae soon though so I'm very excited about that 😄

Tagging forth to @in-arlathan, @mogwaei, @tessa1972, @aymayzing, @inquisitoracorn, @tevivinter, @elveny, @pikapeppa, @petrowriting @peggy-sue-reads-a-book @juliafied, @vimlos, @gloriesunsung, @figsandphiltatos, @gwensparlour, @glimmerofgold, @sabino-sea, and so many more of my mutuals that I'm actually too shy to tag here. But seriously if you're reading this and it looks fun please do it and tag me, I'm nosy and I want to know everything about you LOL  

[hebuiltfive]

Fandom Creator's Self-Rec Game!

Choose five favourites from your own creations (and tell me why, if you like!), then pass on to at least five other people. I'd love to hear what you're proudest of.

Thank you for the tag @forest-falcon!

This is slightly easy (slightly difficult) as I don't have many published works still, so here we go:

Hope Was A Fragile Little Thing

This was the first piece that I put out there, so naturally it has a special place in my heart. It's a short work following Jeff in the Oort Cloud. He reflects on life and love and loss.

International Rescue, We Have A Situation (Part of The Long Game fic)

This fic is currently on an unofficial hiatus because I got stuck on it (mainly because I didn't plot it properly but that's a whole other story), but the opening chapter is still one of my favourite pieces.

This is from Virgil's POV and is set in the aftermath of Jeff coming home. Tensions are rising in the Tracy household and Virgil, once again, is the one having to try and smooth things over.

Up From The Depths/Lost

I submitted this for Gumnut's FabFiveFeb challenge earlier this year, and somehow it ended up having two titles in my drafts.

This is a short drabble piece following Gordon and his struggle with survivor's guilt.

Aliens in Control? Who really leads International Rescue? (Part of the Tabloid Trash series)

This one has probably been the most fun I've had writing a piece of Thunderbirds fiction (that's been published anyway). It was spawned from wondering what kind of ridiculous headlines that tabloids would write when given the topic of The Tracys. The title, I think, is pretty self explanatory on which topic this particular article is about.

It features a 'journalist' who would be better suited to fiction, a conspiracy theorist who might be a reoccurring OC in this series, and a little cameo from Alan and Gordon at the end.

Haunted

Wayne Rigby's muse caught me one night when I couldn't sleep, so I decided to indulge it and this was the result. I do have some more ideas going forward for this, even wrote a little more after I posted this specific one, but I'm not sure if they'll pan out. We'll see.

But this is a very short piece where Rigby is being haunted by the events of his past. His anxieties are keeping him from much needed sleep and, lost in his thoughts in the dead of night, he's becoming lost in endless worries over things he cannot change.

I'm not sure who to tag so I'm tagging anyone who sees this, who wants to do it but who hasn't done it yet!

[transpersian]

the thing is

do you know how strange it is for the people looking after this situaion from the start, to see the people who riled them up, just do an u turn and go back?

we cried with you, empathized with you, and know we're just more confused. is this even really helping your mental health? do you really think this is a right decision, don't you regret it at all? :/

just sad to see your vents here. worried even. be well...

I do, and I’m sorry for the impact it’s had on others. I didn’t expect everyone to turn on me like they have (which I feel stupid as hell about now, tbh) and that’s where a lot of the spiraling that you’ve seen me post on comes from.

Believe me, while Poppy and I are on better terms and are opening up to each other more, I’m not getting any of the same grace or trust from her friends. I’m not rejoining their discord or anything, but on the other end, the condition of me keeping the friends who were willing to stick around was no longer being part of the work. I'm pretty sure I still have a good relationship with Spawn, but they’re doing their own thing now.

My reputation and trust has taken a hit in all of my relationships surrounding this, except for with Poppy, which is a weird as hell feeling. I can assure you it’s just as surreal for her. But we both understand the limitations of where we are and where we still disagree.

So yeah… the isolation sucks. It gets to me. It gets to me a lot. It feels like there’s a wall between me and everyone and everything going on, including most of my friends. The fight is out of my hands and is going to play out however it’s going to play out regardless of my involvement, especially now, so I’m going to continue to keep my word about abstaining from speaking positively or negatively about anyone involved, including those who aren’t on good terms with me anymore.

And yes, none of this is me speaking negatively of anyone because with all things considered, everyone who’s chosen to stop trusting me has every reason to do so. It’s completely understandable when all I have to offer is my word and I’ve done enough for everyone to have some kind of grievance with me that makes it hard for them to accept that anymore. I wish that weren’t the case, but it’s the price/consequence of the choice I’ve made and I can’t really change that now, so I’m just continuing to let my principles guide me.

I just thought I’d earned a bit more good faith than that. Now I wonder why the hell I expected it to go any differently.

But I assure you: I’m still who I’ve been this whole time. I said I wasn’t abandoning everything just for some ERP and I meant it. This is much more complex than that. The fact that people think that that’s going on makes me wonder if they ever really paid any attention to me at all. The last two months have kept hurting as I’ve kept losing more people. I barely check what’s going on with everything anymore because it’s become triggering and anxiety-inducing in a way that pushes through the medications I had to start taking last July. Never mind the madness in my own personal life, which currently includes four other seemingly impossible situations.

I’m very empathetic, many say to a fault, and they might be right. But I’ve always believed in being open to conversations and I’ve said as much regarding Poppy from the start.

This doesn’t change who I am, it’s an extension of it. I wish more people would see and trust that, but I can’t force them to.

And that’s nobody’s burden to bear but my own.

It is what it is.

[lost-souls-system]

- Do you have a large headcount?

Kinda, is 30+ alters a large head count?-

- Do any headmates in your system have typing quirks?

Yes! Greebern (who doesn't front that much) and Trident do :)))

- Does your system have any Non-human alters?

Yep, there's a slime and there's a shapeshifter and there's a fucking dragon somewhere here-

- Is your system neurodivergent?

Yea, Trident has autism(?) and ADHD while I have ADHD myself.

- Does your system use neopronouns or xenogenders?

Mhm, Atlas uses he/they/xe pronouns :)))

-Do any of the headmates in your system have dyed hair and/or is your hair dyed bodily?

Yes and no. Yes because Atlas and some other alters have dyed hair, but our we did not have our hair dyed bodily.

-Are there any nonspeaking/nontyping heasmates in your system?

Mhm, most of our littles are nonverbal and would often use their emotions to express what they want to say. Same goes for Greebern and Phage!

-Does your system have angry and/or "dangerous" persecutors?

Yes, Arkas is one of those alters but he gets pushed out of front most of the time whenever we see a person who's bad/or mean since he'll become aggressive. Which is sad because he's mostly ridiculed for being too agressive as a protector and persecutor.

-Do your littles use baby talk?

Yes! Our twin littles us baby talk a lot :))

-Do you have a large or complex headspace?

Yea, we have the whole ass U.A. high from BNHA-

-Do any headmates in your system have exo-memories?

Okay so I had to do a quick Google search about it since I forgot what it means- BUT yes I think so? idk- if there are any systems out there that know what it means please inform me in a the basic kindergarten way bc I basically can't understand big words- TvT

-Does your system have any tics?

Do anxiety tics count? If so, then yea! Greebern and Collie both have anxiety tics :)

-is your system bad at masking?

A bit since it depends on when someone's gonna switch and who that alter is-

-Do any headmates in your system have an accent that the body does not?

Yes! Arkas has a Scotish accent while Cecil has a slight German accent.

-Do any headmates in your system speak in a different language?

Yea, kinda I guess? Cuz I heard Cecil shout sumn in German-

-Does your system use things like pluralkit and simply plural?

Yes! We do use both platforms. But we haven't updated our simply plural in a year- so we might need to update it before we can share it here. But our discord is @lost_souls.system! We are mostly active there in my messages so if you have discord and wanna be friends, please notify us before sending a request :)

-are you out about being a system? IRL or online or not at all?

We are out online only, since we don't really trust anyone IRL with the fact that we are a system.

- Do you post headmate intros as their own posts on social media?

Yes! We are currently working on the core's intro (me, Emrys)! It'll be out soon once we finish a portrait of Emrys-

- Do you make those "headmates that would get us fakeclaimed" posts?

Nope! As far as I know, we don't really care if we get fakclaimed since we literally just exist. Hell, Arkas just spawned outta nowhere like a freaking mob in Minecraft- so yea we don't really care.

- Is your system bodily a minor?

Yep! Below 16 :) but higher than 13 ofc- We're not a small kid based on how we look like we're 20-

- Do your headmates date in system?

Yep! Arkas has an insys relationship with Collin (Apparently Collie's brother?) And Trident has an insys relationship with Collie (both Collin and Collie are Cecil's siblings as from what I know-)

- Do headmates have different art styles?

Yes! Me and Trident have very different artstyles! For which I draw with semi rendering while Trident draws with literally base colors only. (It kinda irks me bc it looks so dull TvT)

The Cooler System Ask Game Based On Things People Fake Claim Systems On

- Do you have a large headcount?

-Do any headmates in your system have typing quirks?

-Does your system have any Non-human headmates?

-Is your system neurodivergent?

-Does your system use neopronouns or xenogenders?

-Do any of the headmates in your system have dyed hair and/or is your hair dyed bodily?

-Are there any nonspeaking/nontyping heasmates in your system?

-Does your system have angry and/or "dangerous" persecutors?

-Do your littles use baby talk?

-Do you have a large or complex headspace?

-Do any headmates in your system have exo-memories?

-Does your system have any tics?

-is your system bad at masking?

-Do any headmates in your system have an accent that the body does not?

-Do any headmates in your system speak in a different language?

-Does your system use things like pluralkit and simply plural?

-are you out about being a system? IRL or online or not at all?

- Do you post headmate intros as their own posts on social media?

- Do you make those "headmates that would get us fakeclaimed" posts?

- Is your system bodily a minor?

- Do your headmates date in system?

- Do headmates have different art styles?

No emojis/numbers just send the full question!

this post is based on this https://www.tumblr.com/million-with-a-b/734832850476695552/space-themed-system-ask-game-based-on-common?source=share ask game but with changed wording and some added questions + no dni on it for those uncomfortable with syscourse.

[myalchod]

🍈 and 🍓 for the ask game.

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions. Farah Dowling is currently the blorbo most responsible for eating my life and my brain. *shakes fist* Which of course means my brain is a complete mess of headcanons and ideas and what-ifs, but of course I can't think of any to put down now, as opposed to when I'm rambling at people. I think one of my biggest, though: as smart as Farah is, she's rather terrible at reading emotions, especially her own or as regards her; it's probably exacerbated by her time as Rosalind's student in particular feeding into native anxieties and making her second-guess herself a lot. (Saul in particular grounds her and provides a much-needed point of steadiness, whether she realises it or not, despite the fact that he's probably the worst person for her to evaluate her emotional responses towards. I mean, I love writing mutually oblivious pining, but these two are a whole new level of idiot.) Clothes as armour. Hair as armour. So much armour and appearances and awkward relationships, because she tells Bloom she became a figurehead but it wasn't just as regards the students -- she distanced herself from the people closest to her as well, because maintaining those appearances was hard AF at first and she needed to get her feet under her, and once she did it was hard to come back. There are moments where it's easier, but there's a whole lot wrapped up inside that never gets let free, and that too goes to so many unresolved issues. Her biggest fear is becoming too much like Rosalind, with a simultaneous echo of ricocheting too far in the other direction and failing. Her biggest fear is failure, with occasional moments of paralysis that conversely lead to impulsive action at other points. (Also the whole concept of people bound to places and Farah as Alfea's guardian is an entire thing that is now permeating most of my fic, oops, and I could go on and on about that particular headcanon but maybe I should spend more time writing the fic that spawned the notion instead?)

🍓 What’s a fic you’ve written you feel is underrated? For recent works? Probably (they said) repent, which has since shaped a lot of how I look at Rosalind since. (Also I broke Farah's teapot and I'm not sorry.) Of my Silrah fics, but not for thee is probably the one I'd point to -- role-reversal fic for a kink meme prompt that came out gen/pre-ship, but I had a lot of fun figuring out who Saul and Farah would be if that dynamic had flipped. (And then I wrote more because more ideas popped up and also knife-fighting Farah was a thing that needed to happen, even if that never made it into the posted fic, and you don't even want to know how often that happens ...)

[ ask me another? ]

[votederpycausemufins]

hermit!Tommy au keeps living rent free in my brain and i need to get it out to write my other stuff. writing sort of helps but it’s also letting other aus in!

like in this i’m also using triplet au and some avian race stuff plus one au thing i’m adding because i like it!

send help, i don’t know enough about dream smp to write it well but i’m writing anyway and maybe it’s good but i have Anxiety™.

uh, anyway, part one of this new idea, if you have any idea who would help dream get tommy back like this, tell me cause otherwise i’m only using tubbo techno and dream cause i’m not sure who would realistically join.

oh yeah and @petrichormeraki for making the hermit!tommy au and i think also the triplet au? and then also @strawberrylemonz because i didn’t realize they had more chapters of their one fic and i binge read all of memories in the stars so now Grian and Tommy are brothers in this fic.

Dream smiled wildly under his mask as he stared at the portal that stood in front of him. It was no nether portal, the only resemblance being the purple color between the blocks of the frame. Said blocks were eight pure diamond blocks making an almost five by three shape. It had taken months to learn of the design and get it to work properly, but here it was. Known only as the infinity portal, Dream knew this was just what he was after.

A few other players stood near him, having assisted in the creation of the portal at Dream’s demands and threats. It had started when Tommy disappeared. When everyone realized, there were a range of emotions, but almost everyone knew that there would be no way to find Tommy. They hadn’t noticed for who knows how long after he left, leaving no trail. Dream was the only one who thought there might be a way to find his lost ‘friend’. And that idea became real when at a MCC tournament with Tubbo, the compass the boy always wore stopped spinning once again. And even then, learning that had been chance when in the middle of a game the normally hidden item had come loose.

Dream never saw Tommy so he assumed that he was simply in the crowd and not participating, which made it harder to pin him down, but with the return portals going group by group, it was easy to see the compass stop tracking Tommy after the Hermitcraft group left.

The initial knowledge left Dream shocked and even doubting a return of Tommy. That place was known as a very well protected place. It was likely that Tommy’s arrival caused those that resided in Hermittown would have their admin making things harder to bypass. And at the same time, someone who could get through like Tommy did, even by chance, would likely be heavily monitored. It’s just how Dream would do it.

But not wanting to give up, Dream researched into these people and learned how the Hermits would open their gates briefly before moving on. Based on previous patterns, there was no way Dream would wait months and months before that happened again, but some knowledge has seeped over from the previous event.

Some of the Hermits had found a way to create something called the infinity portal, and immediately Dream knew that would be his way to Tommy. If anything were to get past the Hermit’s protection, it would be something of their own design.

And now here it was, his very own Infinity portal. He had even used his admin powers to give it a little upgrade. A duplicate of Tubbo’s compass was placed into one of the blocks making up the frame. It was slightly dented and scorched from previous attempts and was currently sparking dangerously, but it was all holding. 

Now, speaking of Tubbo, the boy was just to Dream’s right. He grabbed Tubbo a little harshly and pulled him forward. “See, it finally works!” Dream spoke, his voice edging complete madness. “And I’m sure it wouldn’t have without that little trinket of yours, so why don’t you have the honors Tubbo?”

Normally Dream wouldn’t want to give anyone else the chance to get to Tommy before him, but he was smart and knew how to survive. While the portal looked stable and working for the most part, the sparks from the compass told another story. He could go in first and potentially die, or he could use a test dummy. 

Tubbo was too eager to see Tommy once again and didn’t see any problem with going first. He stepped onto the portal and barely gave a second thought about Dream’s Request to come back once he was through to say where exactly they landed. He watched as the world around him warped and turned purple, just as with a nether portal, but the bright white flash that followed was different.

The first thing Tubbo saw was a large turquoise building, but to see it better, he took a step out of the portal and fell into the water a few blocks below. He looked back up at the portal and then at the ocean floor before using the blocks he had on him to build back up to the portal. As he did so, he could feel his communicator buzzing madly. Tubbo finally looked at the thing once he reached the portal again and made a small platform around it.

<MumboJumbo> Did someone make a new cam-drone?

<Tango> Not me

<Grian> Might be Tommy, he’s the only one afk right now

<joehillssays> name sounds familiar and he doesn’t normally use them, so might be an old one.

Tubbo stared at the communicator, there were more messages, but only the first few mattered to him, specifically the message with Tommy’s name in it. He couldn’t be completely sure that it was his friend though, but before he could look at the list of other users, two new messages came in.

<TommyInnit> Guys, please just let me have this one, it’s really important.

<TommyInnit> Tubbo how the fuck

Tubbo couldn’t help but tear up at the message. He started typing back, sure his message was coming out poorly due to the tears messing with his already impared vision, but there was a ping as his message was sent before he walked through the portal again.

~~~~~

Tommy had finished afking near Mumbo’s industrial district, having turned off his communicator so he could just sit and watch the machines go. As he turned everything off again, he unmuted the device just to have a flood of messages show up. He scrolled up until a yellow one caught his eye.

Tubbo_ joined the server

Tubbo. His Tubbo. How was he here? Tommy had to know, and even if the other Hermits would get upset at his language, it was all he could think of right now. He sent a message, hoping Tubbo would see it and that this wasn’t all some huge mistake. After the messages were sent, he stared at the communicator until another message was sent. Seeing Tubbo’s name in a message made his heart soar, but it immediately seemed to stop as he actually read the response.

<Tubbo_> Dream’s been trying to find a way to you for months and he finally did it! I’m going to be right back with him and the others!

Tubbo_ left the server.

Tubbo was one thing but Dream was another. Tommy could feel himself trembling. He had found a way in. Tommy’s worst fears were coming true. But then another message came in.

<Grian> Alright, guess I’m breaking out the axe again

<Stressmonster101> I’m already headed to my brewing area.

<xisumavoid> Looks like they used an infinity portal.

<Docm77> I have nothing to do with it

Tommy managed to smile just a little at how quick everyone was jumping into action at the mention of his own admin. As more Hermits chimed in, Tommy sent his own message.

<TommyInnit> Dream is the real threat. I don’t think Tubbo would be helping if he knew the full story or is being threatened or something. I’m not sure who else will come, but just maim and capture anyone besides those two unless I say otherwise.

~~~~~

After what seemed like an eternity, Tubbo stepped back through the portal. He was dripping wet but had a huge smile on his face and Dream knew Tommy had to be on the other side.

“He’s there! He’s really there!” Tubbo was practically bouncing around.

“You’re wet.” Came the deadpan tone of Techno’s voice as he stepped closer, now knowing the portal was working.

“Yeah, it sort of spawned over an ocean but I made a platform and everything.”

“Good job Tubbo.” Dream spoke before anyone else could. “Now we can go help free Tommy from wherever these people have trapped him and bring him home.”

“Well, when I showed up, Tommy was able to use a communicator which is how I know he’s really there, so maybe he isn’t trapped and need rescuing?” Tubbo asked meekly.

“If that were true, wouldn’t he have come back Tubbo? If not for all of us, if not for his home, why didn’t he come back for you?”

Tubbo didn’t respond and Dream pushed past him to be right in front of the portal. He turned around to face the others he had collected there and pulled out his axe. “We don’t know what all will be there to ‘greet’ us once we go looking, so better to arm yourselves now. And the sooner we go through, the better.” And with that, he stepped into the portal.

When he reached the other side, his communicator immediately started buzzing. With no one in sight, Dream pulled it out to read what these Hermits were getting up to. He couldn’t help but laugh at the messages coming in. It seemed that they were torturing Tommy or something. This would be easy. Behind him, more people from the SMP came through the portal. They had weapons at the ready and even looked a little disappointed at the lack of a battle on the other side.

Dream pointed out the two landmarks that were best visible, a large turquoise tower and an island littered with buildings. While the tower was closer, Techno pointed out the building was made of warped wood, so it would be tough to deal with. The island on the other hand, it was so full with buildings that obviously plenty of these Hermits had to be living there. It was surprising it didn’t look like more of a mess.

Tubbo was the only one to notice a small island with a single chest on it. After close inspection, the chest was in no way trapped and Dream laughed when he saw it was filled with boats. “It’s like they’re asking us to attack them!”

After placing down a number of boats, Dream and the rest of his group rowed towards the island. A few people stayed out of the boats and swam in the water. While they weren’t as fast, it was better than having everyone vulnerable as they rowed.

They had nearly reached the island when there was the distinct sound of a firework being fired. Techno was the first to jump out his boat, looking for the source, but as the seconds went on, there was no explosion. Instead, another firework went off and a shadow passed over the boats.

Looking up, the group saw a figure with giant wings, a trail of smoke behind them. Techno fired his crossbow at them, but the flier swerved out of the way before diving at the group. Boats moved to get out of the flight path, but Dream stood in place and readied his axe. As the figure grew closer, he smiled. Perfect height, red shirt, blonde hair. That was Tommy. “Tommy, glad to see you. It’s been ag-” Dream was cut off and stopped smiling as an axe blade hit him just as Tommy passed him. 

He was about to speak again when there was a laugh. One that sent shivers down his spine. Dream looked around, but the source could only be from the one flying around him. That wasn’t Tommy. “A-Attack the imposter!” He managed to get out, pushing down his fear. There was only one person with that laugh. The dreamslayer.

As Grian swooped down for another attack, a yell from the nearby shore stopped everyone in their tracks, even making Grian slow down as it was someone yelling at him. “Grian! Get back here and give us a chance to be diplomatic about this!” Looking towards the island ahead, Dream could see a figure standing at the shore which the avian now flew towards before landing. Someone aligned with Grian was potentially dangerous as well, but Dream has an army while this new person wanted a peaceful option.

Still, it was an opportunity to get closer safely, so Dream obliged, having Techno follow him. The warrior begrudgingly agreed, this was for his brother after all. He hopped out of his boat and climbed into the back of the one Dream was rowing. Within a few moments they had reached the shore and Techno growled slightly at the sight of this new person. They seemed to have an attempted copy of Tommy’s face as a mask. The one Dream mistook for Tommy wore an identical mask. 

“Hello there. I’m Scar, mayor of Hermitcraft. I’m sure you’re here for Tommy, but I’m afraid he does not want to return with you, and we don’t have that many slots available for new comers at the moment.”

Techno crossed his arms at this ‘mayor’ while Dream let out a curt laugh. “I’m sure that’s what you think, but Tommy is one of us. He has to come back. Especially since staying here leaves his family behind.” Dream gestured to Techno.

“Hey, if they fill out the right paperwork and what not,” Grian started, Scar attempting to interject that he would have to be filling out the paperwork too before being shushed. “The rest of the family can come live here. Isn’t that right Techno?”

Techno barely gave any reaction and Grian shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, I get it. Haven’t seen you in who knows how long. It’s fine.”

Dream glanced over towards Techno. “You know Grian?” Techno replied with a no at the same time Grian replied with a yes. “Either way, that doesn’t matter. Tommy is coming with us.” And Dream swung his axe. Grian quickly intercepted it, but that’s why he had brought backup. Techno used the gap Grian had left and used his own axe on Scar. It only took a single hit as the mayor had come without any armor. In fact, the only things that fell to the ground were two masks, one of Tommy and the other of Scar. 

As Scar was killed, everyone’s communicator buzzed. Dream smiled, now it was a two on one, something this dreamslayer couldn’t possibly win against. But his smile fell as Grian gave a smile of his own. “You know we were giving you a chance. But now everyone knows what’s going on.”

Dream gave a nod and Techno lifted Grian by his shirt. In his other hand he held his axe which was now being positioned over the parrot wings Grian sported. That made the avian flinch which Dream was glad of, but before the axe could fall, there was the sound of plenty of fireworks going off and then the sky was filled with other hermits, all equipped with elytra.

[whumptimebaby]

Writing Practice??

Y'know, there aren't very many writing drills that I do, but if I'm bored I will do random writing practice, and today I stood in a lot of lines, sooo

I thought I'd share! Even though this little blurb doesn't have anything to do with any of my wips, it is still part of my process, and it's my blog I'm gonna subject you to the bits of narration I wrote today 👺

It's unfinished, unedited, boring, mediocre, and authentic! I think that's something that is important to share. I'm not like, a big-shot author by any means, but I know there are people who like what I create, and get inspired to create from reading my fics (and that means everything to me, it makes me really emotional just to think about 🥲), and I think it's important when you're in a position like that to show the mediocre, the unpolished, the things that you aren't proud of, because in all honesty, most of what I write is absolute unusable garbage! And that's okay!

Anyways, the writing is below the cut!

After feebly (read unsuccessfully) trying to figure out if Hellevator had different ride cycles, they took to using their phone timer. The only thing that *could* be different was the time the ride waited before launching up, and the time that the ride waited before dropping.

It was a good pastime while they cooled off, and waited for the tiny nibblings of food they'd consumed to settle before catching another ride. They wanted to hit the new one at some point, and maybe (finally) catch a ride on the drop tower in question, but for now, to ease their drop tower anxiety, they would time it.

Operations were slow, and time between cycles was long, so they found themselves waiting a significant amount of time.

All things considered though, the park wasn't too busy. Definitely nowhere to sit, but that didn't matter too much.

For the second time in a row, the ride dropped after eleven seconds. They would wait one more time though, just to make sure.

If the log flume was open, the cooling off thing would have been a lot easier, and a lot quicker. Just grab a ride and you're soaked, but it hadn't opened for the season yet.

They thought about the other rides they wanted to hit. Kettle Creek Mine Ride was the only coaster worth riding (that was open anyway), and it definitely wasn't something they wanted to miss.

That made their current list Hellevator, Kettle Creek Mine Ride, and the new flat ride they'd added this year.

The new ride stuck out like a soar thumb, sleek and colourful in a park full of old charm. That didn't matter too much though. It looked like a cool ride. Each car fit a single rider, and after watching it cycle a few times earlier in the day, it looked pretty intense. The bright purple, orange, and pink gave it a mystical, almost fire-like glow in the beating sun.

Another cycle of Hellevator, another elevens seconds, and they knew all that they needed to. They were still gonna put it off, but that was a later issue. For now, they were gonna check if that new ride was open.

It wasn't. They'd have to check back in later.

So they rode SBF Visa Figure Eight coaster, which had much more kick than anything by SBF Visa should. It was themed to ladybugs, and they wondered who's idea it was to theme hell itself to something as innocent as a cute insect.

Intense was not the right word for the coaster. It wasn't intense, it was uncomfortable. For a 2018 addition, it had no right to be as rough as it was, nor did a ride without over the shoulder restraints have the right to have a head banging problem.

After leaving the satan-spawned hunk of metal behind, they passed Hellevator again (no they didn't, they just chickened out of riding it... again), and got in line for Kettle Creek Mine Ride. A backseat ride was about the closest thing to a solid coaster experience as they were getting.

Just to their right stood the glorious, beautiful, wild wooden coaster. She was gorgeous, and easily the best attraction at the tiny amusement park. Maybe the best in all of of western Canada.

But it wasn't operating that day, so they were stuck with the tiny mine train. The line of which moved at a snail's pace.

That's what happened when coasters only run one train. The only redeeming factor was the single position lap bars, allowing for some killer ejector if you got lucky enough to sit in the back.

To make matters even more irritating, the group behind them knew absolutely nothing of what they were talking about.

They tried to be patient with people who didn't know better, they really did. The three guys behind them were intimidated by rides meant to look intimidating. Where was the harm in that?

It still got under their skin though. Maybe it was the heat, the sun laid a thick sheet of warmth on the back of their neck like an unwanted breath, that was probably the real reason they were annoyed. Alas, the guys blabbered on about how The Beast was a ride to be feared, when it was arguably less intense than the coaster they were in line for.

Luckily for them, being a single rider not only cut their time in line short, but also landed them their favourite seat. Maybe being at a park full of people who aren't enthusiasts was a good thing. Listening to people calling a flat ride a coaster? Annoying sure, but in the grand scheme, sitting in the back was well worth it.

With a whole one of their goal rides behind them, they were a little discouraged. Hellevator wasn't getting less nerve-wracking, and the new ride, newly discovered to be named Sky-something-or-other, still wasn't operating.

They took a seat near the restaurant, in the shade, but also in a spot where they couldn't see either attraction. They were starting to doubt they were ever gonna get to Hellevator. Maybe it was just a ride that they needed a friend for. Maybe that wasn't something to be ashamed of.

It wasn't a safety issue. They knew everything about the intimin drop tower that stood before them. It was the anticipation that killed them.

Sitting, waiting for the ride to launch up, and then sitting, waiting for the ride to drop.

If there was none of that, they'd be fine! Somewhere not so far back in their mind, they understood that it wasn't all that different from a lift hill.

Except on a lift hill, you know exactly how much further you have to go before you drop. Even knowing the amount of time it took to launch on Hellevator, they couldn't count reliably enough to eradicate the "oh my god, when's it gonna drop?" thorn in their brain.

They would come back another time, and ride Hellevator with a hype man. Yeah. That would work. A hype man who could count to eleven consistently.

With that, they were left to rerides, or maybe food? They were finally starting to cool down enough to actually feel hungry.

And in all honesty, with the new ride still not operating and the wooden coaster down for maintenance, they didn't really have much interest in rerides anyway. Maybe it was time to wrap it up? Grab some mini donuts and call their ride?

Their ride was still an hour away, go figure.

They watched The Beast cycle. The line was significantly longer than the twenty minute wait they'd been in earlier in the day. If they had one piece of advice for people coming to this park for the first time, it would be to hit The Beast first, because no matter how long the line is at opening, it would triple by the end of the day.

The Beast was easily the best flat ride at the park, no questions asked. It was worth a ride, just maybe not a two hour wait to get on.

It was a pendulum ride, one of their favourite models. They never understood what made pendulum rides scary to the general public, even back when they weren't an enthusiast. To them, it was barely different from a big swing. The sensation of the air hitting their face, the slight floater airtime when you reach the highest point, it just wasn't a particularly rough or fast ride.

[nctadoll]

          Aight, so, it’s time for one of these posts.  I make these posts occasionally on my other blogs, so if you follow a few of my other blogs, then you might be rereading a bit— However, quite a bit has happened since my last post regarding this subject. I make these posts as, updates / warnings I suppose, as I feel they’re warranted whenever a new blog of mine gets any kind of traction.

         Intense trigger heavy content below the cut.

      For those not in the know, I’m J. I went by ‘Jake’ for a number of years, but about a year ago I decided to shorten it, it was just simpler that way. I’m currently 21 years old, and I’ve been writing on this platform since I was 13. Which is kinda crazy looking back on it, amazing how time flies like that. 

     Within the last... Five or so years, something started happening to me, something that I wasn’t really familiar with on a self basis, but I gotta go further back to properly provide context. Starting in 2011, making me 11 at the time, my family moved from our first house, this brought along MANY challenges as a move typically does— However, shortly after the move, my father lost his job. This, did a lot to him, severely damaging his mental stability. This continued until 2016?? ( My memory of exactly when is foggy ) When he was kicked from the residence over physical domestic abuse issues. He lived away for a year, and then he returned. Then, almost a year later, it happened again, ending with him hospitalized and kicked out once again ( this took place on my 18th birthday lmao ), where he remains gone till this day. Though, given the state of the things happening, that might be changing in the coming weeks.

      He was eventually diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, which, is an extremely heavy mental disorder to have. And a few months ago, I was diagnosed with the exact same disorder. Up until the age of about 16 / 17 I never had massive issues with mental health, I was happy and never really felt any downtime. That changed, as mood swings became common, and I found myself combative and easy to anger, which was something that was never the case before. My family just excused it as puberty as they do. 

       For those unaware, BPD causes... Multiple horrid things. Such as fear of abandonment, unclear / shifting self image, impulsive and self destructive behavior, explosive anger, intense paranoia and suicidal tendencies. I can safely say, I see and deal with all of this. Now, this has manifested in multiple ways online, many in ways that harm my friends. What’ll happen, is I’ll grow so intensely paranoid of little things, that things will build and build until I have an Event where I cut myself from friends and delete blogs or accounts. Then, a few hours later, or in intense cases DAYS later, I’ll come down from this hell high, and remember the shit I did, or sometimes I’ll even have no recollection of the things I’ve done- Leading to piecing together why some friends disappeared or why they won’t speak to me.

        One of the most damaging things, can be the warped perception of everything around you. All of this, has wildly damaged my social abilities over the years— And that’s perhaps one of the most difficult parts, what was simple for me years ago, is suddenly a lot more difficult. It’s led to an intense social anxiety and it leads to you just, wildly fearing how you’ll fuck up the good things you have going for you. Regardless of if you want to or not. It’s so, unbelievably damaging and corruptive. It’s caused me to become this, horrid thing in the eyes of old friends, and I can’t apologize enough. It spawned this, desire to fight and feel a rush of conflict, hence the impulsive behavior.

        It’s something in this weird window, it isn’t me, but at the same time it technically is. I’ve lived my life so desperately trying to never bother anyone around me, the stress of the idea of bothering someone often keeps me from doing anything at all. Which is why this is such a problem. Over the last few months, I’ve been put on medication, and it’s really been helping me, more so than I had anticipated... My impulsive moments aren’t really happening anymore, and while I have down moments, they don’t lead to shitty behavior anymore. 

         I bring these kinda things up, because in the off chance I’m WRONG about how helpful the medication is, or something gets fucked up with it— I want people to know ahead of time.. It’s a lot to ask my friends to put up with it, and I’m not saying they have to— BPD is a lot, and I don’t blame anyone that would rather avoid it, it’s intense. I also know a bunch of people that, won’t speak to me over issues like this, I guess I kinda hope that one day they’ll at least be able to see this and understand. I don’t need forgiveness, because at the end of the day, I did the things I did, blocking and isolating, I did it— I don’t know if I deserve it, but I at the very least wanna be understood. I think, for those unaware, it creates this, weird idea of what I am, like I’m purposefully trying to do them wrong, and that can’t be further from the case.

        If you’ve read all of this, I greatly appreciate it. It puts a lot of ease on my mind. This is also open for discussion or conversation, should you wish to know more or anything, I’m completely open to talk.

[carriagelamp]

CarriageLamps Favourite Books From 2021

This is an incredibly late end-of-the-year book round up, but December ended up being Way Too Busy for me to get it finished and posted. And I figured I should probably get it done before, like... I started on my January book list, rip

This feels like an odd list, but lbr it was an odd year and my reading habits apparently reflected on it quite a bit. These books helped make it a little bit easier to get through.

I wrote more detailed descriptions about all of these through out the year, depending on which month I read them in, but here’s also some quick blurbs:

All Systems Red by Martha Wells

I read the whole Murderbot series this year and loved with with my entire heart and soul. A scifi story about a SecUnit who hacks its own governor module not so it can go on a murderous rampage and destroy humanity, but so it can do its job in the most mediocre way possible, watch space soap operas, and try to ignore the intense inbuilt anxiety.

Bear by Marian Engel

Horny Canadian literature that does, indeed, involve fucking a bear because when Marian Engel is given a challenge she doesn’t fucking pussy out. I started it as a joke, but hey guys? It actually won the Governor General’s Award for a reason. It’s actually a really solid piece of literature that gives you a lot of things to think about, I genuinely enjoyed it.

FRNCK by Olivier Bocquet and Brice Cossu

A phenomenal bande desinée series about an teenage boy who runs away from the orphanage he lives at, and ends up getting swept off to the prehistoric era where he has to contend with cavemen, hostile floral and fauna, cannibals, and a tragic lack of vowels. Beautifully drawn, hilariously funny, and frankly a crime that you can’t buy them in English. Book 4 was an amazing climax to the current arc and I’m happily reading the second arc now.

From the Holocaust to Hogan’s Heroes, the Autobiography of Robert Clary

I got deeply back into the show Hogan’s Heroes to help cope with pandemic stress and decided to buy a copy of Robert Clary’s autobiography that recounts his childhood, to his time in concentration camps during the Holocaust, to his career as an actor afterwards. Fantastic read, and I would totally recommend it to anyone who’s a fan of either Robert Clary specifically or WWII history in general.

The Game by Linsey Miller

I will devotedly read Linsey Miller’s books, even if I am very slow at getting to them and have been struggling to read over this pandemic. This novella was a change from her previous stories, and a fun one. Instead of fantasy and magic, The Game is about an annual grad game that the local grade twelve students participate in. It starts out as normal, before taking a shocking and deadly turn. Now the main character seems to be mysteriously wrapped up in it all and there’s no answers to what’s happening in sight.

MASH by Richard Hooker

Along with Hogan’s Heroes I got back into MASH as well, and decided I should read the novel for the first time. Can’t say the same for the sequel, but this book at least was hilariously funny and I can see how it spawned such a good show, even if they’re quite different in characters and tone. For those unfamiliar, MASH is about a doctor named Hawkeye Pierce who was conscripted against his will into a M*A*S*H unit during the Korean war, and all the crazy things he and his fellow conscripts do to stay sane amid the horror of war. It’s crude, but ultimately too fun not to enjoy.

Minecraft: The Island by Max Brooks

I started this as a joke but somehow it was actually really good. And I say this as someone with an almost negative interest in Minecraft. It’s about a character who wakes up on a deserted island, with no memory of who they are or how they got there, and has to learn from the ground up what to do to survive. And since it’s written by Max Brooks, an author who writes legit zombie survival novels, it takes the entire premise way more seriously than most would. Imagine how horrific it would be to wake up with no idea how your new body works, what the physics or limitations of this world are, or what these things trying to kill you are. It’s basically a Minecraft isekai but taken serious. Shockingly good, would recommend honestly.

Sweep: The Story of a Girl and her Monster by Jonathan Auxier

A magical realism book set in Victorian England, about a chimney sweeper who is just trying to survive until she finds herself caught in a chimney fire… and is saved by the strangest of creatures.

The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

The author really describes it best:

“Because vampires are the original serial killers, stripped of everything that makes us human — they have no friends, no family, no roots, no children. All they have is hunger. They eat and eat but they’re never full. With this book, I wanted to pit a man freed from all responsibilities but his appetites against women whose lives are shaped by their endless responsibilities. I wanted to pit Dracula against my mom. “As you’ll see, it’s not a fair fight.” 

A very interesting novel, with lots of delicious tension.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites by Joy Demorra

A book that has a little bit of everything. A disabled werewolf, a very political vampire with serious anxiety, and a mysterious woman investigating the death of ancient, magical trees. I’m not sure I can describe it in a way that does it justice -- it’s fast-paced, full of sincerity and heart, and bounces between a hilarious queer romance and a relentless, amusing social satire. One of my absolute favourite novels from this year and I can’t wait for the sequel.

Upright Women Wanted by Sarah Gailey

After reading River of Teeth I desperately wanted more Weird Western Vibes, and to my delight discovered that Sarah Gailey herself has written more Weird Western Novels. This novella is about a dystopian regressive future with a wild west flavour. It follows one young woman who, horrified by her “morally wrong” and illegal love for women, decides to run away and join the travelling librarians, a group of people who are supposed to be some of the most morally upright women you can find. Who else could help her but them? It involves a lot of queer characters, gun slinging, and humour.

wishtree by Katherine Applegate

The story of a much beloved neighbourhood tree who is the home to all sorts of animals. He loves all his animal friends and watches over the neighbourhood — until one day a slur is graffitied over him and now there’s talk of simply cutting him down… it’s an incredibly touching that looks at how one life can touch so many others, and what it means to be a community.

[petrichoravellichor]

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

Chapter 2 (of 5) (Ch. 1, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

Days go by. Crowley remains in his room, keeping the door locked and stubbornly ignoring any attempts by Sam or Dean to gain entrance, although he does spare a breath to shout that if they want something to do, they can go ward the rest of the Bunker against further intrusions from certain Hell witches. In the end, the brothers leave him alone, and Crowley tells himself he’s glad. It nearly works; he is, after all, a very good liar, even to himself.

Then comes a newer knock, a softer one, followed by a voice Crowley recognizes as belonging to the new God-Kid, Jack: “Hello? Mr. Crowley? Are you still in there?”

And maybe it’s because he’s bored—it’s certainly not because he’s lonely— but Crowley decides to answer. “Why are you knocking?” he snaps. “Can’t you just blow the bloody door off its hinges?”

A beat of silence; then: “I...could, but it wouldn’t be very polite.”

Wouldn’t be very—?! Crowley gapes at the door; dear God, the boy really was Castiel’s son. Eventually, Crowley asks, “What do you want?”

“Do you know how to play chess?”

Whatever Crowley is expecting, it isn’t that. He goes to the door, unlatching the bolt and opening it a crack. “What?”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Jack repeats and holds up a battered old set. “I found this in the storeroom a while back, but I don’t know how to play, and neither do Sam or Dean.”

And it’s...strange. Crowley knows, logically, that this is the golden-eyed man he saw in the Empty, the supremely powerful being who is not only Lucifer’s spawn but also the new God; he knows this...yet somehow, as Jack stands before him and smiles almost shyly, Crowley can’t help but think Jack looks rather...small.

He frowns, opening the door wider. “What about Castiel?” Crowley demands archly. “Surely he’s familiar with what it means to be a pawn.”

Unfortunately, the jab appears to go right over the boy’s head. “He knows what all the pieces are called,” Jack says, nodding, “but he’s never played before. Have you?”

Crowley has. He actually rather likes chess, although it’s been some time since he’s faced a worthy opponent. As King of Hell, he’d of course been able to order other demons to play with him, but most of them were so abysmally bad at it that he’d stopped bothering after a while. “Why do you ask?” he says, instead of answering.

“Will you teach me?”

The request catches Crowley off-guard; he can’t help but feel it’s some sort of joke. “You want me,” he says slowly, “to teach you how to play chess.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh.” Jack’s face falls; he looks down. “Okay. Sorry for bothering you; I’ll leave you alone.”

Jack turns and begins to walk away, and the sight really shouldn’t bother Crowley...but it does. He feels a sort of painful pressure building in his chest, and suddenly, the thought of being alone any longer is downright unbearable. Bollocks...

“Wait!” Crowley calls, stepping out into the hallway as Jack turns to peer hopefully over his shoulder. “Just...wait. I’ve changed my mind. The answer is yes.”

Jack beams. “You mean it?”

And he looks so bloody happy that Crowley has to focus his gaze on Jack’s shoulder; looking too long at that smile feels like staring into the sun. “I said as much,” he grumbles. “What more do you want?”

“Can we play in the library? The lighting’s better there.”

Crowley flicks his gaze back to Jack’s face, fully prepared to say no, they’ll play in his quarters or not at all...but Jack is giving him these blasted, begging eyes that Crowley would bet good money were learned from Sam, and what actually comes out is, “Lead the way.”

*****

They take to having daily lessons in the library. Crowley demonstrates various openings and defenses, and when they progress to actual matches, he shows no mercy, checkmating Jack’s king in what feels like a record number of moves.

Still, what Jack lacks in natural ability, he makes up for with eagerness to learn and ample appreciation of Crowley’s knowledge, which is...actually rather nice, if Crowley’s being honest with himself; he can’t remember the last time anyone appreciated him for anything.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel look in on them from time to time, although Crowley pretends not to notice them. Once, he catches a glimpse of a woman Jack says is called Eileen Leahy.

“She’s Sam’s girlfriend,” Jack explains brightly as he takes one of Crowley’s pawns with his remaining bishop. “Sam brought her back from the dead after a hellhound killed her.”

Ah. That explains the dirty look...Crowley frowns, moving a knight to capture Jack’s bishop. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Sam, years ago, that he hadn't known who Eileen was when he lent a hellhound to the British Men of Letters, and besides, they were the ones who’d decided to sic said hellhound on the woman, not him. It’s not his fault the bastards had apparently thought it sporting to use an invisible weapon against someone who couldn’t hear it coming. If Crowley had wanted to kill Eileen, he would have at least had the decency to use a weapon she could see. Still, what’s done is done, and Crowley does his best not to dwell on it. The topic of hellhounds is, after all, rather painful at present, given that he still doesn’t know what’s become of Juliet.

Not for the first time, Crowley curses himself for losing his temper with his mother before having learned the fate of his favorite hellhound. Was Juliet still in Hell, where he’d left her? Had she been well-cared for in his absence? What if one of his adversaries had harmed her out of spite? What if his mother had harmed her out of spite? Crowley has no way of knowing, not unless he wants to contact his mother again or just show up in Hell, and neither option inspires optimism. Rowena could very easily lie to him over the phone, and setting foot in Hell feels far too akin to walking into a trap: enough of Crowley’s enemies have probably survived the past few years that he’d be stabbed the moment he got through the gates, and for what? Only to learn that Juliet had been butchered years ago? At least as things currently are, he can still hold onto the chance, however slim, that Juliet is alive. If only there were some way to know…

Go on then, universe, Crowley thinks savagely, give me a bloody sign.

No sooner does the thought form than Crowley hears the click of paws against the Bunker's floor. He freezes, hardly daring to believe...but his hopes are abruptly dashed when a moment later, a tan, scruffy-looking mutt who is neither Juliet nor a hellhound enters the library. The dog pauses when it catches sight of him seated across from Jack at the table, then growls.

Jack looks over and smiles. “Hey, boy, it’s okay,” he calls soothingly, reaching a hand down to get the dog’s attention. “This is Mr. Crowley; he’s a friend. Come say hi.”

To Crowley's surprise, the dog scampers forward, apparently willing to take Jack’s word on the matter. It stops next to Crowley’s chair and sniffs him curiously until Crowley reaches out and hesitantly pats its head, at which point it starts wagging its tail and lets out a friendly sort of bark. The sound fills Crowley with a sense of unexpected warmth.

“When did you lot get a dog?” he asks, glancing back at Jack as the dog lies down at his feet.

“A little over a week ago,” Jack replies. “Dean found him after Chuck made everyone disappear. His name is Miracle.”

“Miracle,” Crowley repeats, looking down at the dog, which yawns back at him, apparently settling in for a nap. “Of course.”

After they finish their lesson, Crowley starts to return to his room, only to hear Miracle trailing after him into the hall. He turns to regard the dog with a frown.

“If it’s treats you’re after,” Crowley says, “I haven’t got any.”

Miracle cocks his head, seeming to consider him for a moment, then pads over, tail wagging and eyes bright. “Woof.”

Crowley arches a brow. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“Woof.”

“Right.” Crowley sighs. “Well, come on, then,” he says, turning and continuing the rest of the way to his room, Miracle trotting alongside him. “You’re no hellhound, but I suppose you’ll do for company.”

And to himself, with grudging approval: Well played, universe. Well played.

*****

More days pass. Crowley spends most of his time in his room, leafing through books borrowed from the Bunker library with Miracle curled up at the foot of his bed. The dog comes to visit him more often than not, scratching insistently at the door until Crowley lets him in. Having him around doesn’t make Crowley’s anxieties over Juliet fade away, but it does lessen the sting of her absence, if only a little.

Jack also stops by with increasing frequency, and Crowley honestly still doesn’t know what to make of him. Lucifer’s blood flows in the boy’s veins, and by all accounts, that should make Jack terrible beyond reason, a vicious, manipulative creature whose only goal is to bring about the downfall of mankind in the most horrible way imaginable.

Instead, Jack sits cross-legged on Crowley’s bed and talks cheerfully about Star Wars or whatever other interest has his attention that day, and his only vice seems to be an insatiable sweet tooth. During one of his visits, he asks about Crowley’s life before they met, and there’s something so maddeningly sincere about the way he does it that Crowley finds himself telling Jack more than he means to, about himself, about Hell, about his mother...

By the time he finishes, Crowley feels raw and a little embarrassed at having said so much, but Jack just smiles softly. “It’s okay, Mr. Crowley,” he says. “We can be more than the people we come from; my dads taught me that. We can choose to be good.”

Crowley isn’t so sure about that, at least not as far as he himself is concerned. His soul is about as damned as a soul can get, and besides, his choices have a nasty habit of blowing up in his face. Still, it’s...a nice thought, if nothing else.

He’s still thinking about it later that night, long after Jack’s gone off to Heaven for a bit to do whatever it is he and Amara do up there. Crowley’s sitting in the dark kitchen having a cup of tea—cheap stuff that comes in a bag, unfortunately, but at least there’d been a kettle—when Castiel appears in the doorway, an almost-silhouette against the soft glow of the hall light, and peers in at him through the darkness.

Crowley stares stonily back. Apparently, his assessment of the shift in Dean and Castiel's dynamic had been correct: Castiel is barefoot, wearing a t-shirt and sweats that were probably once Dean’s or maybe still are. Crowley can practically smell Dean’s scent on the clothes even from where he sits, and the low-quality tea does nothing to chase the bitterness from his mouth. Who would have thought that all it would take to tear away whatever final shred of heterosexuality Dean Winchester had been clinging to all these years was a deathbed love confession followed by a romp in the Empty? Not that Crowley cares a whit about that; he doesn't, not even a little bit, not at all.

“Hello, Castiel,” he says darkly. “Out for a stroll? You should try the dungeon; from what I recall, it’s lovely this time of night.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know,” he says evenly, “having never spent the night there.” Then, before Crowley can think of a suitable comeback, Castiel gestures at an empty stool on the other side of the table. “May I?”

Crowley shrugs. “This is your home, not mine. You don’t need my permission to do anything.”

“Even so, I’d like to have it.”

“Then consider it had. I’ll take my tea elsewhere.”

Castiel frowns. “There’s no need for that.”

Crowley lets his eyes linger on Castiel’s shirt, on Dean’s shirt, then snaps his gaze back to Castiel’s face. “Not for you, perhaps.”

Silence. Crowley is hyperaware of the clock on the wall, ticking out each passing second as they stare each another down, and he half hopes Castiel will charge, practically dares him to. Crowley’s not stupid—he knows his odds against an ordinary angel aren't particularly good, let alone a former leader of garrisons—but at the moment, he doesn’t care: worst-case scenario, Castiel kills him and he goes back to the Empty. Maybe if Crowley's lucky, he’ll actually get a funeral this time.

Eventually, however, Castiel’s shoulders relax, and he sighs. “You should know,” he says, quietly, “I bear you no ill will over our past grievances.”

Crowley bristles; for a second, he considers getting up and throwing the first punch himself. He isn’t sure what Castiel is playing at, but whatever it is, he’s not in the mood for games. “Of course you don’t," he growls. "They all worked out in your favor.”

Castiel regards him carefully. “You’re referring to Dean.”

“I’m referring to everything!” Crowley snaps, nearly shattering his cup as he slams it down on the table. “Haven’t you noticed, Castiel? Your choices are lauded, held up as grand examples of what one does for love, and mine?” He lets out a mirthless laugh that comes out closer to a sob. “Mine end with me on the business end of an angel blade, dying for a world where I’m not even missed, not by Dean or anyone else.”

No sooner does he say the words than Crowley feels like he can’t breathe. Which is stupid, because he doesn’t need to breathe, hasn’t for centuries, but the feeling’s there all the same. The place his heart would be if he still had one aches; it’s as though a well-healed scar in his chest has been sliced wide open and now Crowley’s choking on all the blood. He blinks back the bitter tears he can feel prickling at his eyes, staring fixedly down at the tabletop and wishing it would swallow him whole.

Eventually, he manages to get himself under control, and by the time the choking feeling subsides, Crowley is more exhausted than angry. Maybe Dean should have left him in the Empty after all, he thinks tiredly; it would have saved a good deal of heartache.

Through it all, Castiel remains silent; when Crowley finally looks up at him, he’s surprised to be met with something strangely akin to pity. Ordinarily, it would be infuriating, but right now, Crowley just can’t find the energy to give a damn; he slumps forward over the table and sighs. “What is it you want, Castiel?” he asks listlessly. “You came here to say something, so by all means, say it. There’s nothing you can take from me that I haven’t already lost.”

For a moment, Castiel lingers on the threshold; then he steps into the dark kitchen and sits across from Crowley at the table. Crowley waits, expecting to be told off...but when Castiel speaks, his tone is surprisingly, solemnly gentle.

“I wanted to thank you,” he says, “for the interest you’ve taken in Jack. What he’s been going through lately...facing Chuck, rebuilding Heaven...it’s been a great deal of change very suddenly. He’s trying so hard, and Sam, Dean, and I are supporting him as best we can, as is Amara, but it's still an incredible burden for a child to bear.” Castiel smiles sadly. “Especially when it’s so easy for others to forget that he’s a child.”

As he listens to Castiel speak, Crowley thinks back to that day in the Empty, at the cosmically powerful golden-eyed being who shielded him, shielded all of them, from the surrounding darkness. Jack is powerful in ways Crowley can only begin to imagine...but he’s also more than that. He's the boy who knocked timidly on Crowley's door and asked to learn chess, the boy who sits on the edge of Crowley’s bed and talks to him and smiles in delight when Miracle chases his tail. He’s curious and well-mannered and kind and—

And God, Crowley realizes with a start; bloody hell, when had he grown so fond of God?

“But, as I was saying,” Castiel says, snapping Crowley out of his thoughts, “the time you’ve been spending with him, treating him like he’s anyone else, giving him space to just be himself...it’s been good for him.” A pause, then: “You’ve been good for him. And while you and I have had our differences—”

Crowley can’t help it; he snorts. “That’s putting it mildly,” he says, and Castiel actually cracks a smile before continuing:

“—and while you and I have had our differences, Jack’s happiness takes precedence over all of them. He’s my son, and you matter to him.” He looks at Crowley intently, then adds, in a tone of absolute certainty, “And he would miss you if you were gone.”

The weight of Castiel’s words nearly knocks Crowley to the floor. He’s never mattered to anyone before, and now...now he matters to God. Crowley swallows; he doesn’t know what to say.

Castiel seems to understand, though. They sit in silence, and it’s not exactly amicable, but it’s not strained, either. Like for the first time since Castiel entered the kitchen, there’s enough space in the room for both of them.

Eventually, Crowley clears his throat. “There’s still some water left in the kettle,” he says, “if you’d like a cup of tea.” Then, because he doesn’t want to appear too agreeable, he gestures despairingly down at his cup and adds, “although what passes for Earl Grey according to Winchester tastes is, unsurprisingly, questionable at best.”

And Castiel, to Crowley’s surprise, smirks. “Leave that to me,” he says, rising and heading over to the cupboard. “I know where Sam hides the stash Rowena gave him for Christmas.”

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

��-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

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