#on occasion i think about it and get a bit melancholy

[autistichalsin]

The fact that Halsin is almost certainly a recovering alcoholic is not discussed enough. Granted, the line that shows that this isn't just him not drinking much (like he tells you at the Grove celebration) is hidden behind a rarely-encountered party banter to Wyll.

Buuut here we go:

First is the aforementioned celebration discussion. Halsin doesn't go (as recovering addicts do- there's a reason alcoholics avoid bars and parties. If they go, they won't be able to resist). He tells the player with a smile that he only imbibes on special occasions because, basically, he can't hold his liquor. As Halsin tends to do when saying something that implies his trauma, he keeps it light. "I'd be bursting into song or declaring love for the first person I saw." Like it's just a funny little quirk.

Then comes the line to Wyll, which the player is not very likely to encounter, and Halsin still downplays a bit: "After the shadow curse, I became overly fond of honey mead and melancholy evenings by myself. Now I rarely imbibe - only on the most special of occasions."

Overly fond of not just the drink itself, but of "melancholy evenings by himself." Addicts often refuse to do their addiction in view of others, knowing the likelihood of being judged; this would have been compounded by Halsin, an apprentice-turned-leader, likely struggling to prove himself as worthy.

Wyll responds that he wants to break Halsin's dry streak (not grasping the depth of the issue), and Halsin doesn't respond- in the negative or affirmative. This indicates that he doesn't even consider breaking the Shadow Curse as a reason to break his sobriety.

Lastly comes the ending, where Halsin agrees to a drink. And immediately gives away something very telling: "Perhaps after a drink or five I'll be tempted to inflict some of my singing on you all - as if the city has not suffered enough."

Maybe if you are or know an addict, you spotted it. I'll give you a hint: it's not the jokes about his bad singing.

"Perhaps, after a drink or five".

Or five.

The instant Halsin imagines himself having a drink, it's not a drink or two; it's MANY. And yeah, sure, just saved the whole world, of course everyone's probably getting shit-faced-drunk, but he leaves no room for the idea that he could have just a single drink.

Which will be familiar for anyone who has spent time around addicts or is an addict themself.

I know it's understated, only being in a few scenes, and this one is easier to wave off than Halsin's sexual assault backstory. But I think it's still an important part of his story- showing how he struggles with control, and how he still carries a tremendous amount of trauma/PTSD from the Shadow Curse.

[icywaddle]

I wonder if the PJSK characters ever notice the players actions. Wouldn’t it be so wonderful?

On her way to the store, Kanade notices a tiny flicker of Sekai Sprinkles™ flickering from her phone. She thinks nothing of it, only remembering when Mafuyu comments on a new fish swimming around the aquarium and freshly mended cracks on the mirror. The way the Sakai seems to hum with a comforting whisper, almost enveloping them all in a gentle embrace every time they arrive. Fresh blankets and pillows piled around the stage, boxes of bottled water and non-perishable snacks always fully stocked. Nobody knows who keeps everything maintained, but they always know exactly which flavor of cake to get for Ena’s birthday, and the fabrics and jewels Mizuki needs for every new costume they make.

Ichika sometimes thinks she sees a figure darting through the halls of the school Sekai. Shadowy, always out of reach, but not quite malicious. It seems to watch her sometimes, listen to her conversations. Nobody knows who it is, or maybe nobody is willing to fess up, but they all agree that the Sekai’s halls have been more well kept since they started appearing. Desks polished and shining, boards clean and uniform, CDs organized and instruments always in peak condition. Little additions seem to sneak their way in along with the cleaning sprees, small chibi stickers of the band members and vocaloids finding their ways onto everyone’s equipment. Saki adores them, but Shiho is just a tad more skeptical. Honami supposes it’s endearing, if not a little terrifying.

During a performance in the stage Sekai, Minori sees a lone white pair of glow sticks shining amidst the ocean blue like a glimmer of sunshine reflecting off the waves. She does her best to find the audience member, but they fade away into the crowd in no time. Haruka whirls her away, laughing as she finally catches up to Minori and tells her to take a break. A few new songs had appeared in the Sekai for them to listen to, playing gently over the speakers scattered around the stage. A few beanbag chairs had also been placed comfortably around the backstage area to give everyone a place to lounge around and relax. Sometimes Airi wonders where everything comes from, but Rin and Miku always seem to deflect her questions. Sometimes, Shizuku would catch them acting strangely, waving or winking to the empty air around the Sekai. Stranger still was when the Sekai seemed to hum back at them, Sekai Sprinkles™ flitting around their fingers like curious fireflies.

Tsukasa, even though he’d long accepted that he would never know everything about the Wonderland Sekai, always seemed to startle when random music began to blare across the stage speakers. New CDs appear in the audio office at least once a week, new songs and parts arranged and compiled neatly for their performances. The mood always seems to match whatever play they were performing. Melancholy and slow, fast paced and goofy- by this point the group had at least one song for every occasion. The growing stock of songs came with new shelving, installed in the operating office of the Wonderland Sekai. Emu would always take out several songs at a time to listen to or pitch to the others, bringing paper and pencil to illustrate her visions. Corresponding props tended to appear behind the stage, blueprints and machine parts scattered across the floor in an arrangement so chaotic yet so organized. Typical for for Rui. All of them agreed that something was strange, but nothing ever seemed to happen. If there was a force in the Sekai, at least it seemes… Passive, if not supportive. Nene always swears she can feel something watching her as she sings to the flowers, a sound almost like applause floating through the air whenever she falls silent.

Kohane has started noticing new art around the street sekai, pictures and art of VBS sprayed around the walls. Nobody seems to know who’s responsible, but they all agree that the art is pleasant, if a bit strange sometimes. She’s also heard some new music playing when she visits the Street Sekai cafe, continually asking Meiko about it. Kohane wonders where the music comes from and how Meiko finds out about it, but all she receives in response is a wink and a drink placed in her hand. In fact, she and the rest of VBS have all noticed that there always seem to be some questions none of the vocaloids have answers to… or don’t want to answer. Miku herself, despite trying her best to hide it, can sometimes be seen murmuring into the walls somewhere quiet in the endless sidestreets. It’s mostly Akito who finds her, noticing a flash of teal during his walks around the Sekai. As soon as he draws near, Miku always seems to know, spinning around and pulling a grin onto her face as she herds him back to the cafe. An mentions seeing something similar as well, but the two of them mutually agree that it’s… probably nothing to worry about? The Sekai is full of confusing things, they all know that. Toya often talks about doors he’s found around, padlocked and chained shut. Every time he goes near, tries to investigate, someone comes along to distract him. The twins, yanking his hoodie off with a coordinated attack and running away with it. Meiko, asking him to test a new pancake recipe with her. There’s always something about them, an oddly jittery energy in the glances they shoot back at the doors. He’s never had the heart to fight back, even when he noticed Sekai Sprinkles™ flickering and falling from the doors, shadowy hands waving at him from the tiny cracks between frame and door. Still, despite the horror of… Strange limbs appearing, there was something warm about them. Supportive. An would see them waving from audience seats sometimes, dark human figures flickering in the empty cafe seats. As soon as she stepped off of the stage, they would vanish, fading away with a clap or even a toothy smile. Once, one of them even… blew her a kiss? She’d walked around in a confused daze for the rest of the day.

[ykiwrite]

sorrow holidays

desc: you give Wednesday a gift that brought all the memories back

words: 1,255

You've had this in store for quite a while now.

Ever since Wednesday opened up about the tragic loss of her pet scorpion Nero because of the bullies wrongdoing, you knew what to do.

Get Nero 2.0, obviously. Although surely the original Nero could never be replaced in Wednesday's mind, you thought it was worth a try.

Celebrate it or not, festive season is creeping right around the corner. Needless to say, your unenthusiastic girlfriend turned down the teachers offer to play this years Secret Santa.

Not even the fact it's a tradition helped you.

"Take a look around." You demanded with thin patience as teacher was getting closer and closer with a bag full of ripped paper names, expecting two of you to do the same as everyone. Pull out the paper and keep it to yourself.

Wednesday did what you said but with a grain of salt. Only you can make demands aimed at her and nobody else. She can't let you get away with this kind of things so easily just because you're together.

"I did."

"And?"

"I can see everybody participating. Good for them, i'm not doing it."

"But it will be your first time. It's fun, you don't know who you're about to get." You tried your best to win her over as you side-eyed the teacher getting closer to your table.

"Exactly, you don't know who are you getting and you have to pretend you're okay with the person you randomly picked. What if it's someone you hate? See, it's a waste of time."

Making her appearance known by shaking the paper bag, both of you looked up to meet your teachers joyful face, unlike Wednesdays.

"Go ahead, dig in and keep it discreet."

"I won't take part in this game," said Wednesday and you could tell by teachers expression no one has ever refused to play in centuries of Nevermore's existence.

Putting your hand on Wednesday's shoulder and making her sway for a bit which earned you a glare, you said "Ms. Edwards, Wednesday and i had this idea what if we pick eachother instead since we're both really close?"

Wednesday abruptly turning her head to look at you in disbelief, "We never made such agreement Ms. Edwards-"

"Oh, i'm glad you came up with it!" She whispered "I'm not supposed to do this but i've seen a few of your classmates returning the papers. I can only suppose it's Wednesday's name so i'm delighted now we all have pairs!"

And that's how you made her day better again.

Feeling pair of eyes shamelessly staring, you looked to the side. As expected, Wednesday was over and above crushed. It did cause you to panic for a split second. Swiftly taking her hand under the table you defended yourself "Don't worry, i already have something for you but you don't owe me, okay?"

"I against my will, do, unfortunately. It goes both ways and it would be unfair if i did not. How long were you even planning this?"

"Let's just say i had the speech prepared."

Library? Not good enough. Park? No, not that either. Rooftop? Not safe, Ms. Weems might spot you. Nevermore could not really provide a nice secluded spot for gift-giving occasion and it shows.

As every student was invited to join in decorating the academy one afternoon, you were pacing around the room thinking how to make it special. It was your first holiday after all. To Wednesday it might represent nothing but you wish from now on every holiday will be spent by her side. Even if it means having the most miserable and melancholy decorations.

With inside info (being Enid) your suspicions were confirmed. Wednesday predictably stayed locked, windows closed and blinds on in their dorms. Which made two of you the only ones left out from decorating.

You took one last glance at the coal black scorpion seemingly resting in transparent box before covering it for the sake of surprise. Size so small it fits in your palm since it's only about month old. The story of how you managed to sneak in a scorpion is a long one.

Knowing Wednesday should be here soon because you told Enid to send her off, you hid the box behind your stacked desk.

Door opening let the outside commotion slip past which made you spin around in your work chair. Arms and legs crossed like a scene from CEO's office. Seeing Wednesday in her usual dark attire with addition of warm black jacket, you told her "Well hello, the conqueror of my heart."

"You read one book i recommended and you think you can sweep me off my feet by quoting" she answered lightheartedly taking a seat on your bed.

Slightly hurt you put your hand over your chest dramatically. "You mean i don't have you off your feet since the day one?"

Giving you a huff for an answer, Wednesday continued "How come you don't decorate with everybody else?"

Leaving the chair behind only to make your way to her. With fidgeting hands behind your back, you stood in front of her somewhat nervous.

"Since it's our first holidays together and all i...want to spend it with you instead downstairs. And i also got the gift i promised."

Carefully moving the barricade away until you reached the covered box. Picking it up and placing it in the center of the table, you called Wednesday over who was observing with curiosity.

"So i sort of sneaked this in with some outside help and i think you're gonna like it."

Wednesday didn't show it but that intrigued her even more.

Mimicking your movements from before, she tenderly removed the cover to reveal dark creature curled up in the corner. Watching from the side, you could tell she never saw this coming.

"This is for me?" left her and if it weren't for the complete silence that made you anxious for her reaction, you would miss it.

Nodding you said "Yes, i remember your stories how Nero was the best company ever. You said you swore to never cry again-"

She, in fact, did let a tear escape. In front of you. In this very room. In front of this creature that made her reminisce about past.

Witnessing Wednesday cry was a big step in your relationship which you made a note of mentally.

With her hands fearlessly approaching, the scorpion climbed up on it like they knew eachother for decades. Bringing it closer to her face she observed every single detail of the small being.

"11 weeks, Heterometrus spinifer."

"Sorry?"

"It's about 11 weeks old, Heterometrus spinifer. You can see it clearly." She stated like she was speaking to a scorpion professional which you were not.

"Yeah, i totally can. So, do you like it?" Getting closer to her and sharing scorpion observation moment. Romantic.

"I do, a lot. It's just like what Nero once was. You got it all right." She looked at you with watery eyes and thanked you.

Returning it back to its box, Wednesday stared for a bit longer like she's checking if it's real what she got. "As for your gift, it's at my dorms."

It's not that you thought she wouldn't do it but at the same time, you had concerns. "My gift? You actually did something about it?"

"Since you really outdid yourself with this one, you're getting the second one from me personally" she replied. Packing all the stuff ready to transport her favorite being besides you back to her dorm.

"I get two gifts?" The question echoing the halls while she led you down to her door.

"Yes, the latter under the condition of you being quiet."

notes: i know nothing about scorpions but for the first time in my life i googled them with purpose=the things i do for fanfics

-p.s. just in case; characters are aged up obviously

[azurevi]

Hello! Can I request Azul, Malleus and Vil with "O" from the alphabet (angst)

O ffer - how they apologize after an argument.

Azul

When he’s in the heat of the moment, he may say things that he doesn’t mean or let loose comments that aim straight at your heart in an attempt to prove himself right. Basically it’s just like how he argues with Floyd about his temperamental attitudes sometimes.

The only difference is that he can’t stay mad for too long without eventually succumbing to melancholy. It’s nothing short of torturous not having your comfort after a hectic day, and unbearable silence stretches into the corners of his office without your presence on the couch. He misses your silly jokes and your laughs, and he misses your concerned glances when he looks the worse for wear.

If it’s his fault, it takes a few days max for him to come to his senses and scramble to apologize to you. He asks Jade for advice about whether he should get you flowers or chocolate, but the latter says he only needs to bring with him sincerity.

If it’s just a bicker over petty matters, perhaps he will still comply and come to you with a genuine apology, but if it’s a big fight that leaves both of you down in the dumps, he won’t allow himself to go empty-handed. Whether it be dinner or a cute jewelry, he is determined to right his wrongs and bring a smile back to your face by all means necessary.

He promises not to let his anger get the better of him again, and pays extra attention to his demeanor when he’s stressed or frustrated in the future.

Vil

Vil has the tendency to nitpick your actions and choices, and can come off as overbearing and demanding at times.

Sure, he usually tries to accept you for who you are, but there are occasions when he forces his own standards and wishes onto you.

He’s unwilling to apologize at first, believing that his advice and comments came from a good place— the wish for you to become the best version of yourself. Eventually, he realizes that he might’ve been too harsh with his words.

Sometimes it takes a certain attentive hunter’s off-handed words for him to realize that.

He doesn’t want to hold grudges. It’s difficult pretending to be mad at you when you pass each other by in the corridor, even for a professional actor such as himself. On the other hand, it is not easy for him to apologize.

Give him more time and he will open up and apologize to you. He won’t delay it for long as having you think that he doesn’t care about you and your feelings is the last thing he wants. He respects it if you want to set some boundaries. Even if you don’t, he makes a note of the argument and tries to avoid criticizing the same things again.

Malleus

Malleus can never stay mad at you for long. In fact, it’s strange that he would get into an argument in the first place, since he always tries his best to be loving.

Still, there are times when he fails to understand your feelings. Chances are you’re his first romantic partner, and having grown up mostly in isolation doesn’t help.

He wants to make it up to you as soon as possible, but also believes that you need some time to yourself. Plus he does want to let his negative emotions subside lest he does something to aggravate the situation.

When you’re away from each other, he still makes sure to check up on you, leaving notes to remind you to eat meals throughout the day, bringing you a cardigan when the afternoon breezes get a bit too cold for comfort.

(Really, how does one manage to stay mad at him?)

Once he thinks that you’re ready to talk, he confesses that he still needs some experiences and apologizes for overlooking your feelings.

The first few times you accidentally derail into quarreling, he gets you really extravagant gifts to show his sincerity, but he eventually understands that you’re not that angry at him. Most of the time you just need some space, and then everything will be fine once you talk it out.

[pietrotheavenger]

learn to love

chapter 14 - how to breathe

summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.

pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol

a/n: two years later LMFAO dedicated to anon. proofread once and did not edit. there will be another chapter!

series masterlist

steve did not text y/n when he got home. she stayed up an hour, waiting for her phone to light up with his text, but it never did. she didn’t know when she fell asleep that night, but when it came it was restless and absent of any dreams.

the following day was a rinse and repeat of her daily life; wake up, get ready for work, take the subway, and pretend to be busy for eight hours. when she got home and kicked her shoes off, all she wanted was a glass of wine. she paused at the fridge and she checked her phone for what felt like the millionth time that day. no new texts. she sighed, poured herself a glass, and sat down at the dining table. she looked around the empty apartment, her thoughts naturally drifting to steve as they usually did.

what was he doing? was he thinking about her? why hadn’t he texted her?

she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed again. then, she stood up with a start. since when did she sit around feeling sorry for herself? since when? she felt a bit of anger bubble up inside of her. all of this melancholy over a man? god, if she was one of her friends, she would’ve told herself to get a grip. well, she thought, nothing a good shower can’t fix. she pushed her thoughts of steve and his pink lips to the side, and took her glass of wine with her to the bathroom.

an hour later, while y/n was moisturizing her freshly shaved legs, her phone chirped. she looked over, absentmindedly singing along to the music she had put on for her shower. a text. she looked closer. from natasha. she finished applying the cream, then picked her phone up.

nat: will be home from work late tonight. don’t watch love island without me!

she smiled briefly, and shot back a reply.

y/n: wouldn’t dream of it! i don’t feel like cooking so i’ll order a pizza

she set her phone back on the counter, her gaze falling on natasha’s organizer filled with hair accessories. she looked up at the mirror, at her wet hair. she picked up her phone and sent another text to natasha.

y/n: can i borrow your hair pins?

a moment later:

nat: go for it

she quickly set to work blow drying her hair. natasha’s hair was always perfectly curled, and y/n had watched her on multiple occasions use pins to keep the curls in their shape and she had always wanted to try it herself, and see if her hair could be just as bouncy, or if the red head was just using sorcery. before she began curling her hair, she ordered the pizza so that it would arrive around the same time she was done. she also needed to refill her glass.

30 minutes later, she heard a knock at the door. “just a second!” she called out, as she carefully rolled up the last curl and clipped it into place. she paused to admire her handiwork. there was a couple stray pieces of hair sticking out, but overall not bad for her first time trying. she ran out of the bathroom and stopped in the hallway to rummage through her purse for cash. “one second, sorry!” she called out again, hoping the delivery person wouldn’t be annoyed with her. she barely missed stumbling over her shoes before she finally reached the door and opened it.

standing in front of her was six feet and two inches of man. of a man that was quite familiar to her. steve, to be specific. in his hand, in place of the box of pizza that she was expecting, was a bouquet of daffodils wrapped together with light blue cellophane and a bow.

“y/n,” he exhaled, seeming as if he had forgotten what he was going to say.

“steve,” she said, surprise equally evident in her voice and her face.

“i want you,” he rushed out so fast that it seemed that it was all one word. “i want you,” he repeated, slower. the second his eyes had fallen on her, all of the things he had planned to say to her flew out of his head. in their place, all that remained was one thing. one person, to be specific. her.

“steve,” she whispered.

he took a step closer. “i want you,” he said again, his voice low. she wordlessly stepped aside and allowed him to enter the apartment. she closed the door and turned around to face him and pressed her hands together to keep them from shaking. she didn’t meet his eyes, instead looking down at the shoes she had almost tripped over just a minute earlier. he sighed her name and reached for her hand, placing it on his chest, over his heart. she finally looked up at him, eyes searching his expression. “these past months without you,” he began, “have been the most agonizing of my life. i never realized that i need you the way i need air. when i saw you last night, it was like i remembered how to breathe again.

“i can’t lose you. i don’t care about all your stupid worries, i don’t care what my family would think about all of this. all i care is that i have you. i need you, i need to be able to breathe,” he said. “i can’t spend another moment of my life without you, y/n. i’ll do whatever i can to make this work, i’ll do whatever i can to make you happy, i promise. i just need you.”

her lips parted but she did not reply. they stared at each other for a full minute. he waited for an answer from her, anything. even a, “no steve.” but she said nothing. his heart was beating fast and he knew she could feel it. his hand fell from hers, and he broke eye contact.

her heart dropped, and she instantly knew that she shared the same madness as him. “steve,” she murmured, her hand trailing up to his face. her fingers carefully traced over his jawline, his stubble tickling her fingers. his blue eyes lifted to meet hers again. there was a small brown mole on his cheek. she had never noticed it. she wrapped both of her arms around his neck and pulled him in for an embrace. he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight. the flowers became slightly crushed in the process, but he didn’t noticed. he buried his face in her neck, savoring her sweet, clean scent. one of the metal pins in her hair poked the side of his head, and she gasped, “oh my god,” and pulled back, her hand flying up to touch her hair.

“what?” he snapped, feeling a flash of agitation at the interruption of their hug. though she hadn’t escaped from his arms quite yet.

“my hair,” she gawked, as if it should have been obvious to him. he let himself take a good look at her. she was dressed in pajama pants and a college t-shirt, and her hair was pinned up like a woman out of a 1950’s fashion magazine. he smiled to himself. she looked ethereal. the annoyed look on her face quickly brought him back down to reality.

he fought the urge to roll his eyes and said instead, “it doesn’t matter.” how could it matter, when she was here with him? he swore his heart skipped a beat. she hadn’t said much, but she didn’t need to. this had to happen. he needed her and he would do whatever he possibly could for her to be his.

“it matters to me! i look ridiculous!” she cried, turning her head to look in the mirror on the wall next to the front door. she reached up and pulled a pin out, the curl falling down in a perfect spiral, mesmerizing steve.

he touched the piece of hair, making her hand stop mid air as she went to unfasten another curl. he wrapped the strand around his finger and released it, watching it bounce. “you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, repeating the motion, “every single part of you. i want it all.” his hand moved up to cup her face and tilt it up towards his. he closed the distance between them until they were barely separated by an inch. his eyes fell to her lips. “please, be mine,” he exhaled, his eyes fluttering closed.

she leaned in, her lips meeting his in a kiss.

infinity tags:

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learn to love tags:

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if you would like to be tagged please send an ASK.

[delta0003]

egotober-23-eyeball(s)

So i may have gotten inspired to write this from @leobashi god au. Plus I wanna give the antiaverage peeps a new fic. also part 1 of blood deity.

TW: Anti being an absolute FREAK, blood and gore(neck wound, eye gouged out and mentions of a blood sacrifice/trophy) towards the end , and S/A (mainly just a forced bloody kiss also towards the end.). Also forced marriage.

Hm my adoring puppets i congratulate you on a most successful battle. So much bloodshed and tears that came from the fallen oh it feels me with gratification as ANTI said but his tone said another thing for he wished for something other than the shining shields and the glittering bloodstained weapons. What ANTI longed for was well he wasn't quite certain to be honest. But he was tired of the constant battles. He needed something new in his life to bring back that spark. ANTI was sitting on his makeshift throne made of the bones of his enemies long in thought, thinking of what it was he wanted. His chosen puppets saw that their god was quiet and when ANTI was quiet it was never a good thing so they discussed and planned to bring happiness back into the gods life. 

The head disciples thought a ceremonial blood moon sacrifice might do it. So they communed with the eyes of silver which are a highly dangerous and kept secret group of assassins that ANTI chose and trained himself. The high disciples pleaded with the eyes saying “please help us’ they cried but it didn't take much convincing the eyes to do it since even the eyes were afraid of their master being melancholy. So they set out scouring the lands finding the perfect sacrificial lamb until one cold lonely night they came across a lone shepherd herding sheep into the pasture. So they decided he would do, the silver eyes snuck behind him. Knocking him out and dragged his body back to their awaiting master. Master master we have brought you a sacrifice of a lifetime ANTI’S disciples cried out, hm? Oh my adoring puppets have brought me an offering how sweet of you. What's the occasion? Well you see your godliness we have notice youve been depressed for a couple of days and we decided to bring you an offering to kill yourself. Ah how thoughtful of you hm well make sure our offering is taken care of in the meantime while i attend to other matters. As ANTI left the god was left to ponder about how he was gonna kill his precious offering oh how he couldn't wait.

Chase woke with a throb in his head, the sun starting to rise one minute he’s tending to the sheep the next he’s in a stone prison cell that smells heavily of copper and rust. He didn't know where or why he was here but he didn't like it one bit. He started to shout for somebody but nobody came. He looked around his cell and noticed a table and chair he didn't see before. He went to inspect the table that had a bountiful array of fruits and vegetables that were placed on golden plates. He also noticed the array of wines that smelled too good to pass up. Chase was more of a whiskey drinker but the wine was so sweet and food was delicious so he couldn't complain. But he still didn't know why he was in a prison cell of all places and why he of all people but Chase had to wait to get some answers. 

So he waited until the moon was high in the sky, casting its red glow tonight since it was a blood moon symbolizing a good harvest this year.Chase started to reminisce about how his son was born on a blood moon when his train of thought was interrupted. Ah the lone shepherd has awoken. A shrill almost mocking tone startled him. Who are you? Why am I here? Where the gods am i? A million questions shot through chases head. Heh dear shepherd you are going to be a part of something beautiful for our god. W-what do you mean? Heh in do time shepherd for now rest your weary head and dream of your family for you shall be joining them soon enough and do put these on our god is picky of what our sacrifices wear. The guard left his red cape billowing behind him. Chase's heart started to beat rapidly like hell he’s going to be a slaughter lamb for some crazy occult. Chase started to look for a way out of the cell but couldn't find even a crack in the foundation so he was left with only one option: he was gonna fight his way out and get back home. As chase thought that the cell lock clicked and the door started to creak open, Chase spon around and tensed but before he could run a voice broke out. Sleep. Was all chase heard before his vision blurred then darkened. 

Chase woke up with a start the smell of incense and the cool dark sky was all that he met. He found he couldn't speak nor move his body for it was bound to a stone slab. He moved his head to look around and was met with the sight of warriors draped in black armor with blood red capes some have gold highlights to their armor meaning they must be of higher rank. Then there was a single person that was dressed head to toe in red with a white mask with a silver eyed painted on it just staring at him like they were waiting for something to happen. Chase started to shake from the cold and his mind was starting to wonder, what was gonna happen to him? Is somebody going to save him? Chase closed his eyes and started to cry thinking of his life choices that brought him here. Then a velvet-like voice started to speak,  startling chase from his thoughts. Oh darling don't cry for gonna be my newest puppet many would grovel and beg to be in your place consider it an honor. Chase whipped his head to look at the voice and he was met with a person who held themself almost godly ethereal even. 

He stared into the person's blue? Sliver? Eyes silently pleading with them to let him go but he was only met with curt but joyous laughter almost like the person read his mind. Let you go and why would I do that? see here's the thing puppet your gonna be gutted then strewn upon my temple like a trophy then I'll just reanimate you to be a soldier in my army hahahahaha. Chase's eyes widened and he started to struggle finally noticing he only had a white cloth that was embroidered with gold covering his lower half his cheek started to flush a deep red. Heh aw the poor puppet just realized how vulnerable his REALLY is, heh almost like a rabbit that is about to be hunted or like a lamb to slaughter hahaha oh how this will be fun. ANTI raised the knife above Chase's collar bone and was about to plunge it into his chest when a thought crossed ANTI’S mind he really started looking at this person beneath him. His face tear stained and red sparked something in anti that nothing else has before he wanted more of it, he wanted to keep this specimen to himself so anti lowered the knife and took the gag out of chases mouth and started to unbound chase from the altar. Speak puppet, tell me your name.  It took chase a minute to find the words he wanted to run or at the very least snarl or snide back at the person but something in chase was telling him to just answer the question. C-chase sire my name is chase. Eheh chase, hm a beautiful name for an even prettier man i like it. Chase blushes at the compliment a-ah thank you sir. Hm do call me anti its my name and no need to be thankful we are gonna be spreading a lot of time together after all since your gonna be a part of my private collection. Private what now. My collection lamb, i know you humans are slow but do try to keep up. What no, I don't want any part of your weird freaky cult. Cult? No dearest, we are the great army who protects the land and I am their god ANTI god of war and chaos. To compare us to some cult with a dingy demon is an insult. What no, the great army would never do this, they would never sacrifice an innocent life. Hehe aww that's cute but anyways dearest we really should be going dont want you catching your death out here do we? As anti said his voice lathered in honey reaching a hand out to chase. SCREW YOU as chase snatched the blade from antis hand plunging it into antis neck spraying blood down chases face and chest soaking anti black robe. Hehe sweetheart did you really think that would kill me anti gargled out. JUST FUCKING DIE ASSHOLE as chase took out the knife from antis neck plunging it next into antis eye tearing it out so the optic nerves were showing. Heh lamb you sure are funny as anti said his appearance changing he started to get taller/paler/his hands starting to turn black he abruptly grabbed chases arms.  You know lamb if you wanted to get violent you could have just waited until we got to the bedroom hehe. Anti said with a curt tone. But I guess I was a little forward. We haven't even had a wedding yet, oh i know to have a wedding all you just need is the groom/bride and people who know both people right? Did I get it right? Hehe human customs are so weird but all we need is a speech and a kiss right then we are married right? Hm i dont think im gonna do a speech, i think i'll just dive right into the kiss that binds us together. .

@tracobuttons @leobashi @d-structive

[toc-the-elder]

I think it's funny how I contextualise my big coming out journey. Like it's always seen through the lens of what I was doing at the time, and not through that of the strength and emotion that led up to it. There wasn't one big moment, but many little ones that add up to a journey.

I still remember the moment I realised what I was. I saw a new PhilosophyTube video was up. Something to watch while I shaved my legs while nobody was home. The video has since taken on a more obvious title, but at the time it was something innocuous and unrevealing. And it was Abigail coming out as trans. And I sat and I cried in the bathroom of my mother's house because I couldn't believe it had taken so long for me to realise *why* I was shaving my legs while nobody was home.

I can recall where I was when I got myself referred to a gender clinic. I was stood by a river on a grey November afternoon in a city I had been to once a decade prior. And I very clinically explained that I was "experiencing symptoms of what I believe to be gender dysphoria" to a GP over the phone while I had a smoke for moral support. There were lots of reeds, and some powerlines strung overhead.

I remember when my best friend found out. I had been in a bad place and was in and out of hospital and he (somehow) remembered my Reddit handle and tracked me down to see when I was last active only to see me pretty openly identifying as female and trans. He messaged me to say he saw it, but he was just worried about me.

I remember when I had to tell my ex about it. We had both bought tickets for Shadow of Intent (my absolute favs) on their Melancholy tour cycle, but then the plague happened and they delayed for like three years, and by the time they came back around, they were on the tour cycle for a whole new album. She and I hadn't spoken since we had broken up in 2021 (unknown to her, I had been experiencing a dysphoria-fuelled identity crisis which destroyed our relationship) and she wanted to know if I was still going and I had to work out how to tell her that I was a whole different person now.

I remember being sat on the homeless hostel bedroom floor, newly homeless, and a good way into my transition, and tearfully hanging up on my mum after refusing to explain why I couldn't come home. I hadn't seen her in nearly a year, and didn't know how she would react to the visible changes to my body, and I knew I couldn't go back in the closet. So I called my older brother and cried while I told him. He was always going to be the first to know, as he had always been firmly on the side of trans rights. He offered to pick me up the next day and take me home to tell mum, just in case she banished me or something. I remember the first time he saw me as I am now, and didn't say anything. It was just another day.

I remember telling my mum in the kitchen the next evening, after hurriedly wiping off all my make up and scraping off my nail polish in my brother's car as I thought it would be a bit much for her to handle. We even stopped so I could put on a pair of guy pants I had kept for such an occasion. When I told her, I remember dancing around it as I did, impressing upon her the medical necessity of a certain process I had started. And when I told her, she shrugged and said "Good. What do you want for dinner?"

I remember telling my younger brother when he got home from his holiday. We had wandered to the woods nearby for a smoke on a lovely summer's day and when I told him I remember being very blunt about it. His response was mostly, "Huh. Neat. That's got to open up a whole bunch of questions for you. Like how does that affect your sexuality? You gonna get the op?" He didn't make a big deal about it, he just defaulted to his inner biologist brain. He was genuinely curious, rather than being weird about it.

It just seems like in retrospect, the ordeal of telling everyone seems secondary to the actual things I was doing when it happened. It's so strange how it all just recedes to a series of rather unremarkable still images in my mind. I've got a ways to go yet, but I'm getting there.

[hexedwinchester]

Promise I’m not trying to start shit, genuinely curious. What do you think of Sam’s ending, specifically the flash-forward?

hi @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile

No worries at all. This blog is a safe place.. :)

IMO Sam's ending sort of depends on the future of SPN. What i mean by that is, if that's it and there is no new season or a movie, then to be honest with you, it's a satisfactory ending and here's why:

Sam literally got what he wanted from the start: get out of hunting and to live a safe life. He is someone who dreamt of marrying a woman he loved, start a family with her and knowing Sam, I am 100% sure he would have gone back to college and completed his studies

He raised a child, and had a loving wife. And in a way i am glad they never revealed the blurry wife. As much as i liked Eileen for Sam, there is a wee bit of melancholy to know that after Dean's death, Sam was alone. Despite that, he was strong enough to keep going, you know what i mean?

He died a natural death, went to Heaven and was reunited with Dean.

So yes, if the show ends there, then I am satisfied with the ending

Now, if we were to consider an extension of the storyline, then yes, I can see how this ending wouldn't make sense. I have read a lot of theories, including the ones you put in the comments (good ones btw!) and some of the ones that I did like and would be fun to explore are:

Chuck being a Tulpa instead of God. (Sorry, not sure who came up with this but please DM and I can credit you) This theory explains why Chuck can warp reality around him and is in fact not God which was quite an interesting one because yes, Chuck as God was not played well. They could have done a better job with that.

Your Eileen as a Djinn theory was great too! Having Sam trapped in a perfect reality whilst draining him. This is something i did kinda complain about in one of my SPN re-run reviews S02E20 where i mentioned how we haven't seen Sam infected by Djinn whereas Dean was already a victim on two different occasions. so if this is where the flash-forward was headed, it would be a good one. I also liked the touch of Eileen's Irish folklore. Not much has been explored here.

Personally, i feel like the perfect Sam-ending happened in S5 already. Sam fulfilled his destiny of being Lucifer's vessel but turned it around. The whole martyrdom arc was beautifully written. Sam sacrifices himself for the greater good, Dean learns to move on without his brother (god, this was so needed). It was unfair but quite how life works!

For S15 ending, i would have loved it to be a bit darker like S5. Maybe this time, both brothers die and they die bloody but their deaths mean something, unlike what happened with Dean. His death seemed very random, i mean out of everything that could kill him, it's a rebar? really? I wanted the ending to be a bit darker for Sam than a happy flash-forward. the "it had to be" had a beautiful ring to it. Don't get me wrong, i do love happy endings but something about Sam dying a martyr death would have been amazing!

Thank you so much for this ask! it was fun to explore different perspectives! Feel free to send me more if you have them :)

[dystini]

please do #2 with pato/alex please i beg you pleasd

#2 long meandering drive with the windows down, sunlight glaring through the windshield

This turned out a little sadder/melancholy than I expected but I like it.

Find the prompt list here and give me a pairing (or let me choose. Odds are it'll be Palex)

Pato sped down roads he knew like the back of his hand. At this time of the day and day of the week, they’d be utterly empty, no other cars at all, freeing him to push the car as fast as he liked. And he liked to go fast. He glanced at his passenger, a stoic look on the man’s face as always. It was only because Pato knew Alex so well that he could see the signs – the twitching on an eyebrow, the white-knuckled grip on the door handle, and the slightest flexing of a foot like it wanted to hit the brakes – that said the man was uncomfortable.

Pato giggled. “Something wrong, Alex?”

“Do you have to drive like this?” Alex forced out between clenched teeth.

“It would be a waste not to.”

The car wasn’t a McLaren but one of the other fast cars Pato was privileged to drive on occasion. He took pity on his teammate and eased up on the pedal, still over the speed limit, but it was enough for Alex to relax a little bit.

“You are a menace.” Alex grumped.

“You love that about me.”

“Sometimes.”

Pato eased up even more as they got to a more populated area, staying at the limit, pointing out things of interest as they passed. He had to admit that this was pretty nice, the slower pace, with Alex relaxed beside him and asking questions, the breeze through the open windows ruffling Pato’s hair. One hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, Pato relaxed as well, squinting occasionally on a turn as the sunlight glared through the windshield.

“Show me your favorite places for mischief as a kid,” Alex asked.

“What makes you think I got into mischief? I was a good kid.”

Pato felt more than saw Alex staring at him. He chuckled.

“Honestly, I was too busy racing and away too often to get into much,” Pato admitted. “But there is one place…”

He turned onto a side street and a few blocks down, onto another, driving through a nice suburban neighborhood, the fancy car gathering stares from people out enjoying the beautiful weather. He turned the last corner and frowned, pulling to the side of the road and staring at the building ahead of him.

“That used to be a playground,” he said quietly. “I played there when I could. We lived a few blocks away and I would ride my bike over.”

Alex’s hand covered Pato’s on the gearshift. “I’m sorry.”

Pato shrugged. “’s okay. I guess it’s true. You can never go home again. Things change.”

“Yeah.”

[idolswrestlingadventure]

Wrestlemania III (1987)

Wrestling baby! We’re back and good lord that one of the biggest crowds I have ever seen. I always question events that get this kind of capacity thinking “surely, it’s not that popular right?” Turns out like other things in my life, I’m often wrong. But golly that sure is an immense audience for this burly sport! It’s also odd to see people wearing tuxedo’s outside in the daylight but who am I to judge?

We get our yearly dose of pure melancholy filled ‘Murica with the amazing Aretha Franklin playing piano to start the show off. The lady can sing! Is this going to be a ritual for all Wrestlemania’s? Overdose on patriotism before decanting your spirit with airborne flesh assaults? Kudos if they can keep this up over the 90s. Well it’s certainly better than Liberace and his dancing girls. Let’s get on with the show!

The Can-Am Connection V “Cowboy” Bob Orton & The Magnificent Muraco (w Mr. Fuji) - Fuji back to bring the boos and apparently Muraco in the intervening years has turned heel, but no less meaty than the last time we saw him. The Can-Am connection seems to have the frantic energy of a duo who are struggling for their audience to tell them apart, this is literally the era of the perm and when everyone has curled hair, no one does. Can-Am takes the win in a standard by the books match -Tier 5-

Bob Orton Away!

Billy Jack Haynes V Hercules - I didn’t realise Hercules was literally cosplaying the Greek demi-god so literally. Talking about breaking Zeus and Samson and unleashing a mighty dury upon Billy Jack Hayes. Whom appears in the ring, in another tiny ring. Which is hilarious! I want one of those to drive around town! 

A battle of titans ensues. Slaps happen, slams occur, each fighter giving it their all, resulting in a double countout. Hercules breaks possibly the fakest looking set of chains onto the face of Billy post-match in an effort to sell the fury. I’d like it to stop now, thanks. -Tier 6-

All that glitters is god-awful

Hillbilly Jim, Haiti Kid and Little Beaver V King Kong Bundy, Little Tokyo and Lord Littlebrook

I take that back, I’d like to go back to the previous match please. How did Bundy sink so low, not a pun. Literally midget wrestling…I thought that was a myth! It’s absolutely ridiculous to watch and, although there’s not much “serious” with wrestling, it’s hard to take any of this at face value. Hillbilly and his cadre of smaller billy’s take the win on this occasion, am I entertained? A bit. Do I have second-hand embarrassment from what I watched, absolutely. -Tier 10-

Something tells me this match is a little one-sided

Interlude - Macho Man interrupts The Lovely Elizabeth’s interview with some nonsensical gibberish which, although not as energetic as his previous promo’s, is somehow still entertaining.

Harley Race V Junkyard Dog - Harley professes himself as the King of Wrestling, meanwhile the black guy in chains comes out to profess that America didn’t need no King. I do like the Junkyard Dog but god damn, the 80s suck for this kind of optics. And now they have him bowing before the King…yikes. However he does at least put a chair in the back of his head, whilst Jesse complains that he’s never seen such a cheap shot in all his life…yeah okay Jesse, okay…-Tier 9-

Honestly, still better than King Charles III's coronation

Interlude - Hulk continues to wipe the coke stains from his moustache and flex infront of Vince’s pouting face, also he seems to never stop talking. And people were surprised these guys were problematic later in life?

The Dream Team V The Rougeau Brothers - A skating team lost on their way to the rink versus two guys who have the dress sense of a blind drug-addled car salesman. Greg “The Hammer” Valentine still looks like he came straight from the pub too, three pints in, yeah I can take ‘em! Yeh and he moves pretty much like that too. Some of the usual wrestling with a ref distraction for added drama, but a quick bout at least. -Tier 7-

"Brother, I don't think this is the Toronto Ice Rink"

I should probably explain Tiers and my rating

Tier 1: Superb, one for the ages, should absolutely not be missed.

Tier 2: An amazing match, extremely entertaining, worth anyone’s time

Tier 3: Good wrestling and/or drama, a great watch!

Tier 4: Just great quality, solid example of good wrestling or entertainment.

Tier 5: Just a match, nothing good or bad, just the middling tier.

Tier 6: An okay match, some problems, overall decent.

Tier 7: Not great, too quick or too sloppy.

Tier 8: Terrible, performers uninteresting and nothing going on

Tier 9: Absolutely awful, nothing redeeming about this match, avoid at all costs

Tier 10: Incredibly problematic, dire wrestling, objectively harms wrestling.

"And here at Madam Tussauds we replaced our wax figure with the real Andre, because honestly who can tell the difference..."

“Rowdy” Roddy Piper V Adrian Adonis (Hair V Hair Match) - I still don’t quite get Adrian’s gimmick, but am enjoying Roddy’s righteous fury although I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a Hair V Hair match before. But you know, Adonis can throw himself about really well despite his size. This works as a better comedy match than the earlier midget wrestling purely as it’s more farcical. Roddy’s heel status works well here and you want to root for him against the forces of…absurdity? Although I’ll be happy when WWF stops using trans characters as bad guys, again, the 80s…despite that, good match, lots of energy and fun. -Tier 4-

"Just a little off the top sir?"

Danny Davis & The Hart Foundation V Tito Santana and The British Bulldogs - Oh hey, I know Bret Hart! He was from all the 90s wrestling my friends watched! And of course we remember the Bulldogs from last year's antics, complete with a small bulldog which we’re lucky didn’t do its business on the turnbuckle.

These are some of the biggest tag team names in wrestling for this moment and you can see why. Some good moves and although no storyline really to follow, this is an engaging match with the crowd going wild for Tito Santana once more. -Tier 3-

Jimmy Hart wondered for a moment if he should suplex a dog...

Butch Reed V Koko B. Ware - All I can think is, that poor bird. Being thrown about like that then perched on the edge of the stage infront of thousands of screaming people. This absolutely has to be before animal cruelty laws were brought in. Also “slick” does seem to have that pimp energy, not sure how long his gimmick will go on for. Some standard wrestling, doesn’t excuse torturing the bird. -Tier 8-

"After this match I'm biting that man's nose off..."

Ricky Steamboat V Randy Savage - Going to put it out there, this might be the most impressive match I’ve watched in all of these events so far. The energy is outstanding, it absolutely paid a lot of respect to the talent of Ricky Steamboat and made the Macho Man more than just his goofy promo’s. I’m becoming a big fan of Ricky Steamboat the more I see of him, he’s absolutely top talent during this era. And this match is electric, with not even myself expecting Steamboat to get the win on this occasion. Not sure about the bit with Hairy George and Miss Elizabeth, but I’ll give that a pass for some quality in ring action. -Tier 1-

The production of The Karate Kid is currently sueing the Steamboat Estate

The Honky Tonk Man V Jake Roberts - Alice Cooper! And he shows his guns for some in-ring action wow! I also dig the hokey nature of the Honky Tonk Man’s Elvis impression, he commits for the bit for sure! Bonus points for Jimmy Hart getting a snake to the face. This was an entertaining match! Give me more Alice Cooper’s skinny arms in the ring! -Tier 2-

"We're the perfect team Gene, he's the muscle, and I'm nothing else"

 The Iron Shiek & Nikolai Volkoff V The Killer Bees - Oh they are back, the crowd’s favourite antagonists. When does the Soviet Union collapse again? Ah it’s not for a while yet. Okay fine but they get notably interrupted by the spirit of America in Hacksaw Jim Duggan which, well, i don’t know which is worse to be honest. 

Actually, yes I do, it’s the Killer Bees. Who thinks of this as a team style? “Hey let’s wear striped bottoms and pretend our stings are lethal!” Maybe bringing awareness for the  declining bee population? Mostly an uninteresting match with the asian bloc taking the win, getting the crowd riled up for the main event. -Tier 7-

The perfect American, and his 2x4 patriotic plank

The Main Event: Hulk Hogan V Andre The Giant - Here it is, the event to end all events. The pure exhilaration of Hulkamania meets the largest man ever to wrestle. And it’s kinda disappointing? A supposed clash of the titans but met with Andre’s inability to move very well and his lack of doing anything other than standing, grappling and taking the occasional hit. The Andre heel turn is quite funny though, I absolutely get Bond Jaws vibes from the whole exchange and it definitely reads as “we needed Andre to be the heel, so let’s just make him turn because why not”. Hulk does perform a slam on him which is impressive, that could not have been easy on either contestant. Oh and Hulk going Super Saiyan will never not be funny. -Tier 6-

"So...want to just go get a drink and wait for this whole thing to blow over?"

Overall Average Tier - 6 Randy Savage Driveling Rambles Out Of 10

On a side note I realised I still have literally hundreds of PPVs to go through, so I might not do so much writing for each individual event, but pics and commentary will continue. Next up Survivor Series (1987)

[septembersghost]

Do you think that the narrative is over? (Relationship-wise) Or is it still not? Is it still likely for the pages to be continued? 👀

between jimmy and kim? their narrative will never be over imho, because i'm on the same page as queen rhea with being a hopeless romantic and knowing that their love is ongoing and she'll keep showing up for him, it's just...a very melancholy and lonely outcome in some ways too, and i (months later, even still) can't shake the discomfort with that stringent black and white view of the world they inhabited, which was alternately vibrant and murky, but never set in stone. i know there's a popular fic on here that serves as a bit of a fix-it for the ending and i'm so glad, multiple mutuals have recommended it to me and i need to get over my "i almost never read fic and often find it not good for my mental health" block and give it a try to see if it helps me get over my general ache and specific qualms about the ending. but ultimately, i do think we know their relationship continues on in some form, and they'll forever be in each others' lives and trying to bring some small measure of color back to the world for themselves, to find a path forward with their mended identities, in whatever way they can, apart day by day, and in the glimmering and rare occasions when they're able to be together too.

[dreamy625]

Nicotine, that’s for remembrance

Words: 810

Content: Something for Sad Steve Day. Remembering Steve ten years after his death. 

—-----------------------------

“Hey! You can’t smoke that here!”

The woman sitting cross-legged on the grass squints up at him. “I’m not smoking it, I’m just holding it.”

“Well you can’t do that ei… What? Why?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for him.” She gestures at the gravestone next to her. “He’s been down there ten years. I can guarantee he needs a cigarette, and a drink.” She raises the silver flask held in her other hand.

“He gets plenty of that, the number of cans and bottles I have to clear up.” grumbles the groundskeeper. 

“I promise I won’t leave a mess. Just a few drops. It’s vodka, it won’t stain. I thought about adding some cranberry juice. That’s his favourite. Vodka and cranberry. But I thought, wasps. Co-op didn’t have any anyway. Not much call for it apparently. I hope he doesn’t mind. Not that he… obviously…” The ramble ends with a crack in her voice. 

“You knew him then?”

“Yeah. A bit.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from round here?”

“No. I’m from London. I worked in a pub in Chelsea when I was at university. He used to come in sometimes. Quite a lot. If none of his mates were in, he’d sit at the bar. Bit like this really.” She looks down at the grave and the corner of her mouth quirks up briefly. “Only with bowls of peanuts instead of plastic chrysanthemums.”

“He’s a popular fella. More visitors than all the rest put together.”

“He was then too. Everyone loved Steve.”

“It was his birthday last week, there were loads of people here.”

“He’ll be glad he missed it, he hates crowds. Hated… crowds.”

The caretaker gives a half-laugh half-grunt, “Well don’t you stay too long, young lady. You’ll catch your death, sitting on that damp grass.”

Lucy smiles at this demonstration of gruff Yorkshire kindness mixed with graveyard punnery. “I think I’ll stay a bit longer. Just ‘til someone else gets here. I don’t want him to be lonely.”

As he shuffles away she turns back to the headstone, raising the flask in a melancholy salute. 

“I know ‘good health’ is traditional but that seems a bit redundant at this point. So, cheers, I guess?”

Solemnly she pours a measure of the liquor on the ground before taking a swig herself. After checking that the groundskeeper is now out of sight, she surreptitiously lights the cigarette and balances it carefully on the edge of the plinth.

“I hope none of this is blasphemous or anything.” she mutters. “That’s the last thing either of us needs, the wrath of a slighted deity.”

Offerings made, she sits back down, unsure what it is customary to actually do when visiting the deceased. Glancing around, the few other mourners seem to have mostly opted for silent contemplation, though one is seemingly carrying on an animated discussion with their dear departed, and another is vigorously scrubbing at some engraving with a toothbrush. Lucy watches the cigarette burn down, trying to think of some meaningful statement appropriate to the occasion, but no suitable epitaph springs to mind. 

“We missed you, y’know.” she eventually blurts out. “The pub wasn’t the same without you. I left that summer. I’m told it’s a brasserie now; you’d hate it!”

She takes another gulp of the vodka and sprinkles a few more drops on the grave. 

“You know what else you’d hate? The music now. God, it’s fucking awful. You missed grunge, and Britpop, they were okay I suppose. But now there’s just a lot of drum machines and beeping, and do not even get me started on NSYNC!”

She pauses, suddenly remembering that this can only be a one-way conversation and feeling a renewed stab of loss. Steve had been, still was, the only person she’d ever really bonded with over music. He knew everything, all the early Bowie, and Zeppelin, and T. Rex that she’d missed through the misfortune of not being born until 1971. 

“Oh I do miss you.” 

She squeezes her eyes shut - she’d promised herself she wouldn’t be a cliche fangirl and blub all over the gravestone. Opening them, she spots a couple of newcomers in the distance, dressed in denim and black, looking lost but purposeful and heading, more or less, in her direction. Not wanting to make a spectacle of herself, she takes a deep breath and concentrates on the things she’d wanted to say to her departed friend, the reason she’d felt compelled to come here in the first place. 

“I wish I could have known you better. I wish you knew how much you were loved. I wish there was something… that would have made a difference.” And finally, “I wish you were still here.”

Standing up, Lucy presses her fingers to her lips and then to the carving of Steve on the headstone. 

“Sleep tight, sweet boy.”

[phantomdecibel]

Calling my boy Shrodinger the way he’s dead and alive at the same time.

Okay SO. Obviously, he starts out as a soldier puppet, and he just does the regular things. Shoots the enemies, and mends the allies when possible. Marching ever through the black orders fly retreat attack and all that.

And then one day, he has a thought. Or, I suppose at this point in time, it. It’s not anything big or monumental, just an empty void suddenly having the impulse to eat berries. It doesn’t need to. It shouldn’t want to.

It eats the berries. It LIKES eating the berries. It doesn’t share its knowledge, and it doesn’t care to, but it now is conscious enough to know that it likes eating the berries. It’s conscious enough to make the decision to.

It’s the first of many moments of ideas in its head. Suddenly, it may feel fear. Just the vague knowledge that, when hit by an enemy, it will never get up, and never eat berries again, is enough to be scared. It has no greater concept of death than that but it doesn’t need to.

So, it starts to avoid the war grounds, try to run away from them, and it starts wandering around. It’s treated poorly sometimes, seen as a bad omen. Sometimes people find it creepy for its lack of emotion. It doesn’t really care. On the rare occasion, someone will think to feed it.

And so, it goes on like this. At some point in time, they become sentient enough to realize what had happened. To realize why people treat it in the way they do. To realize why they acted in a way that now, with knowledge of death and compassion, seems so alien to them.

And it. Knows. Rage.

This is kind of like their angsty teen phase. They’re angry, they start using pronouns that are made for people. Really she just starts rebelling in every way she can. She wears the strings that used to bind her around her neck like a promise to one day find whoever was responsible and slit their neck.

The problem is, he doesn’t actually know who is responsible for what happened. They’re intelligent, capable of complex thoughts, but they’re still rather… detached, still a bit hazy in what they’re capable of thinking about.

So, with no outlet to the rage they feel, they just start pointing it at whoever. They want others to know helplessness and violence like that which they’ve seen, suffer as they have. They want others to know what it was like on a battle field where you are nothing, and your allies are nothing, and all you know is death.

And so it goes on like this. He does a lot of really horrible stuff. Catches the attention of one god or other, it doesn’t really matter, and helps further their power. She doesn’t care, just wants to see people suffer at the hands of a creature more powerful than them.

And then, they come across a child. It is not a novel sight. But it is. They’ve gained a lot of sentience, and before they couldn’t understand why anyone took care of these.. things. They were just smaller adults.

She could relate to them, relate to being treated as less than, relate to struggling to understand the world around them, but he couldn’t understand what made others protective of them.

And yet this time around, it clicks. Some semblance of humanity, some millennia old instinct to keep it safe.

And it’s the first step of many to reconsidering their little war path. First step of many to severing their connection with their god. First step of many to overcoming their grief.

First step into experiencing an actual connection.

After that, it’s mostly cut and dry. Learning to be less violent, learning to try and be better instead of making others worse, and trying to escape their soldier-esque mindset of enemies being everywhere.

It’s why they start wearing pink and purple, the opposite of the camouflage green and godlike yellow.

Honestly, I’ve not really thunk it through though, and I’ll probably end up changing a lot since currently it’s a lot… edgier than intended.? In execution, I’ll probably make it a bit softer and more melancholy since that’s usually how I prefer my characters.

AFGDJGHDMBBKUGJGJKFIJKYRETRYGIJOUTTDHCUFTETUFIGTSFHJBUGDTYFHJFYUVIBUGYFIHOHVUTDERRWFYUGCHJVJGGFHVH OH HELL YEAH THATS FUCKING GREAT love them <3–

Really love the way she starts gaining consciousness? Its something so small! He just… found some berries and ate them and oh no now where are we–

Tell him that half of what created him is dead at least 🥺

…..also.

I am. listening to gp v tmk rn lmfao–

[reddragon-cowboy]

👫 (if you feel inclined!)

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship | Not accepting !! @dandelicn ~

//you asked for niah and spike so you get two for both ! ;3

Niah and Dani bond over related interests : Niah tends to withdraw into her inner world when she ends up alone in her own company. This happens more often than not because she feels she don't have many associates who share a common interest in the things she finds entertaining; Niah has always regarded her own interests, all the things that make her feel happy or joyful, as nothing other than dull and insipid to her peers in her younger years, and to this new generation where humanity seem to have lost their place in the universe. Which is one of the main reasons why Niah thoroughly enjoy Dani's companionship : Dani is silly, sweet, and possess a similar likeness to Niah's soft nature. But she also takes delight in Dani's fascination with plants, such as dandelions ! You can bet Niah learned to use dandelions in her recipes, they can even pick dandelions together to use for food ! Niah also like to play video games, so I can see them playing games together sometimes, plus, going roller skating/longboarding. Overall, they can be silly and goofy together over their interests.

Spike messes with Dani ( in a brotherly way) : I already know that Spike will be amused by Dani's antics and silliness; I highly doubt he'd ever, if rarely, be annoyed by her presence. Most people who annoy him, he just tolerates and puts up with them if they're around; in Dani's case, I don't think he'd ever feel a need to 'tolerate' her. Spike got a weak center for the soft ones, and Dani possess a gentle heart that Spike will try to shield from harm and look after if she ever has a tough time standing up for herself. Sympathy and compassion come a bit easier if he sees her in a melancholy mood. And so, with all this being said, he will tease her a lot in the way a big brother teases his little sister, whether it's something she's doing or interested in, and be entertained by whatever reaction she gives him if she takes the bait.

Sleepovers ( both) : Niah might suggest to Dani to spend the night for a sleepover on rare occasions. Wearing cute pajama's or gowns. Watching a movie under a fort they built, with some snacks : chips, popcorn, soda, salsa, and pizza , maybe ? Spike might step in after a successful bounty hunt and wonder why the living room is a whole mess, tease them about their little 'girls night', leave, then come back like an idiot to join their girl's night because he really want some snacks and pizza due to starvation ( a mere exaggeration on his part).

Spike will offer his help : If Dani is ever in a pinch, Spike will try to help if it's in his power to do so at the time. Spike is practically renowned for being lazy, or portraying an apathetic countenance towards life in general, people or other things, and may not want to do anything because he just don't feel like it ( it's as simple as that) if it's not important enough to gain his attention. But he tries to be kind towards Dani and will lend a hand if she ever requests his services, or if she doesn't, he'll ask her if it's obvious she needs help and is being stubborn about it.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 25th June

Well, it's been a while since we heard from Joan Regan - four whole years, in fact! And to tell the truth, I didn't expect to hear from her again - in my mind, she's definitely a pre-rock and roll artist. Still, it's nice to see some of the old guard still making it into the top 10, on occasion. If nothing else, it breaks the charts up, a bit! Plus, I sneakily quite like this number - there's a charm to it that kind of snuck up on me, you know?

May You Always - Joan Regan (peaked at Number 9)

This is a distinctly old-fashioned song - it's got that dignified "Broadway classic from the 1920s or 30s" vibe that you used to hear a lot, back in, say, 1954. In fact, upon hearing it, I assumed, straight-up, that this was an old standard. But no, this song was written only a year ago in 1958, and doesn't seem to have originated in a musical, as far as I can tell. It's just got that vibe to it - helped, I think, by the liberal use of orchestral instruments, and by Joan's very clear, mannered enunciation, which really does feel like she could be singing the song on stage, or for a film soundtrack.

I kind of like it, honestly. Joan really does have a lovely, warm voice, and there's something a little jazzy about the tune, in the way it just slinks along, with a faint piano backing, a subtle bit of clarinet here and there, a swell of strings. There's a wistfulness to it. And the lyrics are great, too - it's a sort of blessing, as Joan wishes her love well, praying that may you always walk in sunshine, / Slumber warm when night winds blow, / May you always live with laughter, / For a smile becomes you so. They're sweet lyrics, sweet enough that I want to keep quoting them as Joan hopes that may good fortune find your doorway, / May the bluebird sing your song, / May no trouble travel your way, / May no worry stay too long. Heartwarming stuff, right there.

I think this probably explains why the song was a hit, actually. Style-wise, this song may be old-fashioned, but make a song sentimental enough, especially if you can do it without getting mawkish, and you've got a hit on your hands that the British public will absolutely lap up. And that's before you get to verse three, where you think "huh, the tune here sounds a bit like Auld Lang Syne". Which is 100% deliberate, leading into lines wishing that may old acquaintance be remembered / And your cup of kindness filled. So yeah, we've got references now to Auld Lang Syne, too, itself a very nostalgic song, and one that probably has all sort of emotional resonance for your average Brit, tied up as it is with New Year's and late night tipsiness, and memories of old friends you maybe haven't seen for a while.

And finally, you hit verse four, which is the wistful cherry on an already stunningly sentimental cake, as Joan prays that may you always be a dreamer / May your wildest dream come true / May you find someone to love / As much as I love you. All of a sudden, this has gone from a song about just wishing somebody well, generally, to being a song about unrequited love, and about wishing somebody well even as they don't seem to love you back. Which is kind of heartbreaking - a very musical theatre sentiment. Joan's the Eponine, suddenly, a sort of tragically gracious romantic loser. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I genuinely find it touching - call me emotionally manipulable, but I just think there's something very lovely in it, and the way the song gradualy works its way to this melancholy, bittersweet ending.

I really liked this song, if you can't tell. I think back in 1954, or whenever Joan was last scoring hits, I'd have found it a bit much, just another sentimental ballad among many similar ones. But in the otherwise rock and roll-dominated wilds of 1959, it's a welcome diversion, a cosy New Years cup of hot chocolate, raised in an affectionate toast to the one who got away. It's a bit incongruous, but I can 100% see the appeal. And that's the main thing, right?

Most sappily heartwarming song of the bunch: May You Always

[haveyoureadthistoo]

A reader's journey

Harder than the anxiety about all the books I won’t be able to read in my lifetime is the guilt of lost time. Even though I can’t remember a period in time in which I simply did not read, there were moments of distance, followed by moments of reawakening.

I know I was simply living life and wouldn’t go so far as to say I regret those moments, but I can’t help the melancholy of coming across a book now that would have resonated so beautifully with previous, less developed versions of myself. I suppose it’ll keep happening as I go through different stages in life anyway, but it made me think back on my journey as a reader.

My parents were not readers. Nor was my oldest sister, who was almost 15 years my senior. I don’t remember seeing books around the house that weren’t my own. My paternal grandfather liked to read national classics and western fiction, but he lived far away in the countryside. I also had an uncle who was a poet and another who was a lyricist, though not necessarily readers.

So I’m not really sure what got me into reading. Maybe it was just genetics. Maybe it was the right teacher. Or maybe it was watching “Matilda” over and over again. Overall I was a very active child who loved nothing more than running around the school courtyard - unless I got a new book to read. Then I would sit hypnotised in the bleachers and read the whole thing in one go, rereading it again and again until it was time to give it back.

We were required to read just a handful of books for school every year, but after a while I started getting books from the school library as well. After my dad died, I got slightly rebellious, not doing all of my homework, forging my mom’s signature on school communications and on one occasion hiding a library book I forgot to return - until my mom found it under the sofa and went with me to give it back, apologise and pay the small fee. I was around 8 at the time and it might have been my first ever reading gap, but I can’t remember if it really came to that or if it was just that one isolated incident.

Apart from school, my only other source of books was an aunt who was a teacher. There was also the occasional old copy my mom would uncover from her childhood archive, like “Pollyanna”. We were not in the habit of going to bookshops and I didn’t really ask for specific new books, I just got whatever I was given and didn’t mind reading xeroxed copies, which would often be the case to save some money at home. And I could colour the cover with sharpies, which was fun.

One memorable xeroxed copy I read for school was of a Brazilian book called “My Sweet Orange Tree”, when I was 10. It’s the story of a somewhat poor boy who develops a loving friendship with an old man and an orange tree, but the old man dies, run over by a car, and the tree is cut when the boy falls ill. It was the first time I cried reading a book, and there weren’t many after that.

Then there came a transient couple of years as I navigated my pre-teens. My reading was steady, but sparse. Until I watched “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” twice in a row and decided it was time to get on with the books. I had read the first one when I was 9, but it was a bit of a chaotic experience. Besides, spoilers were not a big thing in the early 2000s, so I was fine just watching the films. This time, though, everybody talked about the details left behind and I wanted to know.

That was 2006. I didn’t have an allowance and money was tight at home, so what I did was start the traditional piggy bank and save every leftover penny from what my mom gave me for school meals, plus whatever little cash I got from relatives on my birthday. One of my aunts had a friend who worked in a big bookshop chain and used his employee’s discount to sell me the books for a lower price. I saved enough money to buy book 4, read it several times until I had the money for book 5, and so on.

Around the same time, I discovered Jane Austen after falling in love with the 2005 adaptation of “Pride and Prejudice” - and with Mr. Darcy, of course. I have no idea how many times I’ve read that book in my life. At that point I was fully back into reading, even if I just reread everything over and over. Luckily for me, my best friend at the time loved stories as much as I did, so we obsessed over books together, exchanged them often and even started buying some cheap, easy novels in English to learn the language.

Once I got into university, it was hard to keep up my streak. The good thing was, I learned about secondhand bookshops and got some jewels to add to my collection. I was also introduced to Book Depository. The currency exchange was so cheap back then, and they weren’t owned by Amazon yet, so I was suddenly getting these unimaginable books in English for very low prices. I had a small scholarship and all the money I got went into books - and concerts, and drinks, if I’m being honest. Still, I wasn’t reading that much, and in retrospect I wish I were. I think it would have helped me navigate my early 20s better.

What finally got me back on track was getting a new scholarship, this time to spend a year abroad. Enter England: beautiful parks, lots of charity shops, cosy cafés and scenic train rides. If that didn’t work the charm, nothing else would. It helped me recover some of the magic that was starting to fade as I got deeper into adulthood. When I got back to Brazil in early 2014, I had a whole suitcase filled with books and notebooks.

I also had a smartphone and my own computer, so the distraction thing took a while to settle. By 2016, a mix of acquired habit and unemployment (which is the realistic word for occasional freelancing) led me to yearly numbers I could never deem possible. It naturally went down over the years, what with work, study and the inescapable social media addiction, but I don’t think it’ll ever go away now. Books are so intrinsically part of my personality, and even my career, that I could never part with them for more than a day.

Even if I did, I know it wouldn’t be forever. Like a true friend, they would be waiting for me with open arms - anytime, anywhere.