#totally not because that’s how i felt when i was super depressed earlier this year

[calsvoid]

maddie asking for help breaks me every time

[takaraphoenix]

20 Questions Game for Fic Writers

Tagged by @blairwaldcrf ! Thank you, dear! <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

As of right now, 1214 works! Damn, I've been busy :D"

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

Currently at 9,167,371 words, slowly inching toward the 10 million mark!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Oh gosh, the total list is so long at this point, with various one-off kind of deals, or fandoms I've moved on from.

I am currently considering myself an active writer in these fandoms though: Shadowhunters, Percy Jackson, Detective Conan/Magic Kaito, DC Comics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sorted by kudos, my top 5 fics are:

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful (Marvel, Loki/Tony), with 7,945

My College Boyfriend (PJO, Nico/Percy), with 6,353

The Lion's Pride (Voltron, Shiro/Keith/Lance), with 6,163

The Ghost King of Summers High (PJO, Nico/Percy), with 5,600

Percy Jackson, Ambassador of Hades (PJO, Nico/Percy), with 4,985

Which actually looked really fucked up because yeah sure there's four super popular multi-chapter fics of mine. And then there is My College Boyfriend, which isn't just a oneshot, it is a oneshot with under 3k words. What. What.

And the, quite frankly frustrating, part here is that this oneshot only has 24 comments. Not even every 100th reader felt the need to leave a comment. That's just... so sad. Like. Genuinely, I think the kudos system broke commenting because the convenience of pressing a button beat actually expressing yourself genuinely through words and from the bottom of my heart, I find that depressing as fuck.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always. Every single one of them. Because comments mean something. Someone took the time to tell you, with words, that they liked your work and maybe even what they liked about it.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooof, multiple contestants from back in my day when I wrote German fics for the Beyblade fandom and wrote about... darker themes. Not all fics used to have happy endings. I wrote some fics that ended in a suicide, so I guess those.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Impossible to answer, because for as long as I've been active in English writing, all my fics have had happy endings. The guy gets the guy, the girl gets the girl, and they live happily ever after. The world is saved or the evil defeated, maybe there's even an epilogue of a next gen in there. That's my standard, it ends happily. So that makes it impossible to pick one that somehow ends happier than the rest. xD

8. Do you get hate on fics?

loool

Right. Sorry. Yeah. Yeah, of course. Funnily enough, never on the things you would assume attract hatred - the incest, the explicitly non-con stuff.

Nah, I got death threats and words that were somehow worse than death threats on my Oliver/Felicity fics in the DC fandom... a... straight canon ship... but not the canon ship from the multiverse that these vile assholes liked, so, ya know. Threaten the fans who love a ship you hate.

Also over the years, lotta nasty general homophobia for Nico/Percy in the PJO fandom - I have been writing in this fandom since 2010, and yes, there were really a lot of people especially in the earlier years who just hated the idea of making either Percy or Nico gay.

And the dumbasses who declare Jace/Alec incest and thus hate and threaten this ships fans in the Shadowhunters fandom. But still, inexplicably, like Alec. Even though, in canon, he's the one who was in love with Jace. I don't know, but if you claim the nasty, nasty incest is The Bad Thing, I think you should hate the character with the nasty, nasty incestuous feelings, instead of the fans who write perfectly tagged and filterable fics. But that's just me, I guess.

So yeah, top three of hatred I got over the years - but if you wanna read a highlight reel of bullshit hate mail I got, feel free to go and check out my Dear Anonymous Shitheads tag!

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

All kinds of smut? I don't know how to answer this question, to be honest. xD

I've written oral, anal, vaginal, mlm, wlw, m/m/f, rare m/f ships but usually either she pegs or it's ABOverse and she's an alpha, I generally pepper in some flavors of BDSM into it, I've written dub-con and non-con before, bestiality, double penetrations. I have written a lot.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Oh, that is absolutely going to my first ever crossover. Because my usual crossovers are, ya know, that Big Four animated movie crossover verse (Tangled/Brave/HTTYD/RotG), or "I like these two fandoms, how would A's characters fit into B's world/how would B's characters fit into A's world?" for... essentially all my fandoms, and I wouldn't call any of these crazy - because the Big Four crossover is a beast of an own fandom so it's not really "original" or far out there to write for it, and in all my other crossovers, I do pride myself on making it work, like, not just throwing characters together but fitting their backstories and special powers into how the other world works.

So the craziest one is absolutely A Hundred Times Over, which is a oneshot sequel to my first-ever English-written fic and was written as a celebration because it was my 100th fic back then.

The original fic was already a crossover between Detective Conan and PJO, so for the celebration I thought "okay so what if I throw in my current obsession - Doctor Who - and my first ever ship - Shere Khan/Bagheera?". So, yeah, this crossover between Detective Conan, Percy Jackson, Doctor Who and Jungle Book has to be my craziest so far.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

So often. So, so, so, so often.

If you see my fics on watpad or any other platform that isn't AO3 or Fanfiction.net - and if you see them on those two but posted by an author that ISN'T Takara Phoenix - then please, let me know. Drop me a link wherever you can, I always greatly appreciate being told that my fics have been stolen so I can report that person and have it taken down.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. All of the stealing of my fics has made me incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of my fics flowing around on other people's accounts or other websites, especially since the first like four or so stolen fics I had were translated.

Someone took my fics, translated them into Spanish and Russian, and posted them on other platforms, without ever asking my permission.

I don't want thieves to more easily slip through the cracks in between authorized repostings of my stories, so I have the blanket policy to not allow translations.

If you see my fics in other languages, tell me.

(There is one story that has been translated, but I'm not sure how far it counts, because I did the translating myself, and that's Lass Uns Etwas Dummes Tun/Looking For Something Dumb to Do. It is a PJO fic about Nico/Percy that I wrote in celebration for Germany legalizing gay marriage in 2017; I wrote it in German first, due to that, and then decided to translate it into English since I know my core-audience are English-speakers and not German-speakers.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeees!!! With my wonderful, amazing, lovely @kimmycup!!! ^-^

We've written a total of five fics together so far.

Three Shadowhunters fics: Hurting and Healing, a Magnus/Jace oneshot, Three Times the Boys Felt Left Out, a Jordan/Simon/Jace oneshot, A King By Any Other Name, a Alec/Jace oneshot.

A Vampire Academy oneshot about Mason/Christian: The Chance at a Happily Ever After.

And, our pride and joy, our 51k multichapter Shadowhunters/Vampire Academy crossover fic about Mason/Christian and Simon/Jace: Double Puppy Dare.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

That's such a hard question to answer for me as a multishipper.

But to be quite honest, I think I would have to go with Kaito/Shinichi from Detective Conan/Magic Kaito?

It's the ship I've been the most consistently been faithful to and that, whenever I see it, sparks joy. That has proven that even when the fandom's gone dormant for me for months or years, it can reignite into a wildfire, where other fandoms just fizzle out and disappear from my interests then.

These two get me, they've been getting me for one and a half decades now and I doubt they'll stop any time soon.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

All of my unfinished German fics over on Animexx. When the German Beyblade fandom started to die, I tried to cling on, but at one point... when all your favorite writers, all your friends, have moved on? And then I started reading fics in English and soon after, also writing them in English. I feel bad about it, but it's just been far too long now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Personally, I'd say world building. That's also my passion. I love creating elaborate worlds for my stories to take place in - I mean, damn, for the book series I'm writing, I developed my own language, religion and drew a map of the city it takes place in, among other things. A well-developed world is so important.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, fight scenes and action and other things that...

When a character is good at a thing that I am not good in or know a lot about?

Like, when a character is super quippy and funny, but I am not really a one-liners-person so now I have to come up with quippy one-liners to capture his personality?

Or fighting or science, when a character is an expert in a field that I know nothing about and would not understand jackshit about even if I tried because it's not my wheelhouse? Those things, I really struggle with.

Also, I hate action and fight scenes. Like. That's the parts when I check my phone usually to avoid that my eyes glaze over from boredom. So, naturally, writing these things? Not fun. Not good at it either, imo. But certain fics - or rather, certain characters too - require action and fight scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Painful if you have to use Google Translate. If you know the language? Yeah, go for it! If you have to resort to Google Translate? Maybe just write it in italics and note that it's in x language. It spares both, the native speakers who will die from second hand embarrassment, and the non-speakers who... won't understand it anyway.

But in the cases that I use foreign languages (and usually when I do, it's just... pet-names. Things you can't really fuck up that much and things that people would say in another language even in English-main-dialogues), I always put the translation right behind the sentence, because it's a special brand of obnoxious when you have to scroll ALL the way to the end of a chapter or fic to see what tf you just read, and then scroll back up again.

Hate doing that, so I won't do that to my readers.

19. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Oh, that's Yu-Gi-Oh!, with a hurt/comfort Kaiba/Joey fic.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Can't answer that, it always depends on my current mood which of my babies I love the most ;P

Tagging @kimmycup and @justonemorechapternicercy and @fallenqueen2 for this fun! And anyone else who wants to do it! <3

[kennieswrld]

an analysis of my relationship with an ex-lover of mine.

hello, if you like rants please continue reading. if not, this is totally not for you.

you've been warned.

so i was in a relationship almost a exactly one year ago. it didn't last super long, we didn't create a bunch of memories. but it was enough to put me into the worst depression i've ever experienced so far when we broke up.

our story was actually really textbook for two almost 20 year olds. we met and instantly clicked, had crazy fun sex, talked about everything we could think of, and he cheated on me! i think for a long time i blamed myself on his actions. i had never felt so inadequate and ugly as much as i did then. being a black woman with a redhead was already bringing in enough jokes, but to be cheated on with a goth white woman with long straight inky black hair? misuses spiritual jewlery and definitely practices "magick" instead of magic? AND was a genuinely sweet person with my dream body? whew. god don't get me started. i just couldn't understand why i was never pretty enough for him.

on top of this entire fiasco, we were a long distance couple. this means i sacrificed a lot of my social life to spend hours on facetime every fucking day (it's so insane to even imagine myself doing now). and the cheating was done in a sneaky, disgusting lying way. god, i was a fucking wreck. have you ever had a heartbreak that wasn't even in range? i cried for months over a man who would never be in my immediate area, it was nuts. but as i stated earlier, i was sad for a long long while. i literally lost my sense of self worth after having a string of not-so-amazing moments where i posted to my social media's about the situation (when i was DEFINITELY not in a headspace to even be near a phone).

i never thought i would feel the same, i sobbed at the thought of anything that even reminded me of him. until one day i just- quit. it felt like a wire had flipped in my head, i finally saw how he was just toying with my emotions so i could continue playing his stupid fucking pathetic loser baby-man games. and i just learned how to outplay him.

our contact went radiosilent for a while, until i caved and texted him a few times recently. terrible idea, i know this. but i just had to know if we had truly had the closure we both needed from the situation, and i wanted to talk to the person that was one of my closest friend's at a point in my life. SPOILER ALERT! that was one of the worst decisions of my life, yet one of the best. unlike me, he never moved on.

when i blocked all of his accounts online and pretty much made his being non-existent other than our shared internal memories, he was stalking every single one of my social media's religiously. he kept tabs on my new relationships, my hair changes, fuck even my new posts. it was such a revealing moment to me. this whole time, i felt as if he had moved on and grown up like i had in our time apart, but unlike me, time froze him in the heat of our break up...many months later. at first i felt like he was a pathetic loser with 0 hobbies other than being obsessed with me. but now i see how he is just a product of our societies atrocious way of raising men.

he can't regulate nor voice his emotions properly and doesn't understand how to take complete responsibility for himself and be a good sport even when you're wrong. and at first, i felt so happy in the knowing of how big of a loser this guy was. knowing how the pain he caused me stayed with him forever, but not me. but now, i feel bad for him.

i couldn't imagine living in a past that i know i fucked up. i can barely imagine living my day to day life without true friends that listen to my feelings and i feel true emotional connections with. i can't imagine living like this because i could never live like this. but he does. and that's quite sad. but, i've blocked him on everything. and i'm sure he is reading this, and that's even sadder. but i hope this analysis of my horrid ex helped out a person in the beginning stages of breaking up with their horrid ex. because trust me, you will get over it and live the most amazing life without them, while they pathetically stalk you online like the underdeveloped children that they are.

thanks for listening.

[timeoverload]

I feel a million times better than I did yesterday. I'm feeling confident now that I will be able to get through the rest of the week without any issues.

I took a probiotic before I went to bed last night and it helped a lot. I just need to be better about taking them every day because I forget sometimes. I guess I didn't realize what a difference they make. I was also happy because I wasn't in pain the entire day. My back didn't bother me at all and I got to do the things that are normally a challenge for me. I'm surprised that I'm not sore at all now that I'm home because that's unusual for me. It would be awesome if I felt this good all the time.

I had so much energy earlier and I think I'm manic right now. I literally could not shut up the entire afternoon and was laughing about everything. I feel like I'm really annoying when I get like that but maybe I'm just too hard on myself. I guess I would much rather be manic than depressed.

I think it helped that it was another slow day for eye cases. I was done by 2:30 so I helped dispatch and load the autoclaves. I wasn't thrilled about having to put sets together and wrap total pans but at least I got a break from running around.

It was really nice to see my grandma today. She seemed to be doing better than the last time I saw her. I miss getting to sit and chat with her so I'm glad I got to do that. I wish she wouldn't have decided to move a few years ago because I used to be able to walk to her place. I just feel bad because she is lonely and doesn't have anyone to talk to. I also worry because she was telling me about how she has problems with her blood pressure and she has been passing out a lot. I guess it has happened to her several times when she was alone and didn't have anyone to help her so she laid on the ground for hours. She deserves to have someone around that can help her more. I think that I probably should be that person but I don't feel comfortable driving my car that far. I need to figure something out because I want her to be safe and happy because she deserves it. She has given so much to others and hasn't gotten much back in return.

I also got to see my aunt for like 5 minutes and give her a hug. I hadn't seen or talked to her in 2 years but it didn't seem like she was in the mood to talk to me. I'm not close with any of my extended family anymore unfortunately. A lot of them live too far away and everyone is so busy. I try not to let it bother me too much or get sad about it though.

It would be great if I could continue to be in a good mood. I hate being grumpy and depressed all the time. I'm doing my best to stay positive.

I need to stop staying up past 11 because I get mad at myself about it every morning. I'm going to try not to do that tonight. Tomorrow will be a busier day so I don't want to be super tired. I don't have much else to say right now and I still have things that I need to do tonight so I should do that soon. Hopefully I can get stuff done quickly so I have time to relax before I go to bed.

I hope everyone has a lovely evening and a good day tomorrow!! 💖💖💖

[pooepw]

My life as a human being has led me to an existence without friends. When growing up as a kid, I had friends that shared the same interests as me; we liked to play kingdom hearts. Then, one moved, and eventually the other moved away, too. The first friend moved in my elementary school years and the other in high school. Going back to elementary, I made a friend in the only other person who played a card game I enjoyed, Yu-Gi-Oh! However, I was nothing like other kids who played yugioh. Most players would say that they played yugioh with playground rules and cheated, but I would play real decks and knew all the rules. So when my friend who played yugioh brought his cards functionally in a way similar to having their cards held together with a rubber band and tried to normal summon a synchro, we fell a part as friends. We even became enemies over something, and he eventually moved away. In middle school, I did not usually get to interact with my friend who had not moved away yet since she did not have the same classes as me, so it was a rather lonely experience. But it did not bother me too much at the time. By high school, I still did not have friends that I would hang out with, which made me super awkward, but since I was the smartest student in my class (at least according to gpa), there was a seeming reverence around me. Or at least that was how it felt. I could stumble into any table at lunch and would not cause be a burden to anyone. After my freshman year, the friend I mentioned earlier moved away, leaving me totally friendless once again. The following years would be me being a teacher's pet without even trying to be a teacher's pet. For some reason, many of the teachers were nice to me without me doing anything. Anyway, I ended up finding two friends, who were more akin to acquaintances within my classes. Sometimes, we were more than mere acquaintances, but usually, we were simply in similar classes. After high school, they both moved far away; I only really have contact with one of them. My college years were spent mostly fucked up and alone. Impostor syndrome hit me harder than anyone else, but not in the sense that I felt like I could not do the work like everyone else, but rather that I felt like the people I just walked by made me feel like I did not belong. I would walk past someone, take the smallest peek at their face, and their face would frown. This messed with me psychologically, and now I try not to make eye contact. It did not help that the school staff and workers were leading me astray too by recommending me random classes (which I stupidly took) and practically recommended underage drinking. I would spend the first two years as a shut-in. Then covid hit, forcing everyone to stay home. This would be the nail in the coffin to preventing my ability to interact with others in a meaningful way. Just before covid started, I would at least lead in study groups for the Japanese classes I was taking for major requirements. Please note that I was incredibly depressed from. The impostor syndrome stuff to the point that I spent no time except for filling the void with gaming. Anyway, when covid hit, I moved back with my parents and was relieved that I no longer had to spend money on the stupidly overpriced apartment. I would attend classes online and was actually happy because I no longer had to deal with the impostor syndrome stuff, but a new looming threat appeared in my life in the form of everything around me just sucking. Being a leftist in a conservative state really makes every moment they fuck up another thing that does not affect the status quo in even a modicum of a percent just makes me want to curl up into a ball and do nothing. I would finish college without any connections and jobless yet debt free. And friendless.

[vroomvroomkachowboi]

I Hear a Symphony

smut, fluff, angst: angst/fluff 

pairing: draco malfoy x reader(fem)

word count: 1.5k (1580)

summary: draco’s has been depressed ever since astoria died and he’s been learning to parent as a windowed single father, that is until he meets y/n

warning: death, depression, cursing 

a/n: inspired by a song i found on tik tok called “i hear a symphony” by cody fry, i totally recommend it, it’s soo good. ik i said i was gonna write a fred imagine, but dang i’ve been getting so much inspo to write draco imagines. ik astoria died when scorpius was 13, but let’s pretend she died much earlier, also don’t know much abt astoria, so if anything is wrong, i’m sorry. I'm super proud of this so without further ado, enjoy 

Draco still remembers the day of Astoria’s funeral. He held his son, Scorpius, crying as he clearly lacked his mother’s warm touch. Narcissa and Lucius gladly took in Scorpius while Draco mourned and grieved. He had entered his large, empty mansion, and laid in his California King sized bed, feeling the dent of his late wife’s body on the mattress.

He had to pick up his son a week later because he could not look at him, a reminder of Astoria, and the fact that she risked her health for him, for him to not be lonely after her blood curse took her, and yet he was still lonely. He felt a void in his body, and waking up every morning, it felt like it was just getting bigger.

He noticed he was getting very pale, so he decided to take Scorpius and himself to an ice cream parlor in Diagon Alley. The lady at the register had y/l y/h hair, and y/c eyes. As Draco got closer to the register, he noticed how young she was, possibly around his age. She gave him a sweet smile. “That’ll be 2 galleons sir,” She says. He pulls out 2 galleons out of his left pocket and puts it on the counter. “Thank you. Have a nice day-ooh, your son is going to need napkins.” She lets out a giggle and hands him more napkins. And she was right, Scorpius had strawberry ice cream all over his mouth, dripping from his chin. “Thank you.” He says quickly, and grabs Scorpius’ hand to sit down.

Draco often took Scorpius out so he wouldn’t be cooped up in the house all day. Draco also didn’t want to be reminded of the emptiness that his wife left behind.

They both decided to go to a park in London. Draco sat on a bench, observing his child interact with the muggle children, he knew Astoria would be happy about it. “Hello.” A familiar female voice startled him. He turned around to see the lady from the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. “Hello.” He replied.

“I thought Malfoys hated muggles.” She says and takes a seat next to him. He shifts over, uncomfortably, but she didn’t seem to notice. “No, I stopped thinking that way. What about you? What are you doing here?” He says. “I came to visit my muggle family. My niece is over there.” She points to a young girl on the swings. He nodded, unsure of what to say.  

They both just sat in a somewhat comfortable silence, while watching all those happy young kids running around.

Suddenly, Scorpius’ screams were heard from across the playground. Draco got up quickly and rushed over to his son. Scorpius had scraped his knee really badly. Draco carried him over to the bench, with Y/n still sitting, in shock of the crying child. “I fell off the swings!” Scorpius whined when Draco asked what had happened. “Oh god, I can’t use my magic here! I’m sorry Scorp, I can’t heal you.” Scorpius seemed to cry louder.

Draco's heartbeat quickened. It felt like everything was closing in. ‘Astoria would’ve known what to do.’ He thought. He felt so unfit to be a single father.

“Don't worry Draco. I’ve got just what you need until you get home.” Y/n said. Grabbing a brown bottle and a cotton ball from her bag. “My brother gave me all this stuff in case my niece got hurt. What luck.” The bottle read “Hydrogen Peroxide”. Draco watched as she poured some on the ball. “This won’t hurt.” She said with a soft tone in her voice, and Scorpius nodded hesitantly. She dabbed the cotton ball on the wound, he watched as it bubbled.

“What is it doing?” Draco asked. “It’s cleaning the scrape. I’ll put a bandage on it, and you can fix it with magic when you get home.” Draco nodded. “Thank you. What do we say, Scorp?” He asked. “Thank you.” Little Scorpius said quietly and got up to play again.

“I believe I never got your name.” Draco asked. “Y/n.”

This was the start to a lovely friendship. Draco and Scorpius often went to visit Y/n at the ice cream parlor. When Draco needed Y/n, she’d always be there. Because she knew how vulnerable he was since the death of his wife, he also trusted her enough to babysit Scorpius, and thankfully Scorpius loved her.

Every night after her shift, she’d come over with pints of ice cream for all of them to eat. With her help, he was able to finally mourn healthily. No longer was he alone at nights, she would sleep in the guest room close to the master’s bedroom.

Although, something was wrong with Draco. He cared for his new friend, but his admiration for her grew the more he got to know her. He grew feelings for her quickly. ‘I can't do this to Astoria.’ Was always a reoccurring thought, but the more he tried to suppress it, the more his love grew.

It also seems that Scorpius viewed her as a second mother, he couldn’t hurt them.

He decided to give her the silent treatment. The less he hangs out with her, the faster his feelings fade, right?

It went on for a month. Slowly but surely, ignoring Y/n more and more. She spent most of her time with Scorpius, not that she minded, but Draco was acting strange.

So, enough was enough. She was going to confront him about it. So on a Friday night, she put the blonde 6-year-old to bed. Hearing the light snores from the young child, she slipped out quietly from his bedroom, looking for his father. She looked all around the large home, but found him outside, sitting on a bench by the tall grass hedges.

“Draco!” She called out. He flinches and hesitantly looks up at her. She sat by him. “What's up with you? You’ve been acting strange lately.” He stayed quiet. “You can trust me, Dray. We’ve been friends for over a year now.” He sighed loudly. “I...I like you.” He whispers.

“Oh.”

Draco shuts his eyes tightly, feeling as if it was a mistake. “I think you need to leave.” He hears Y/n’s feet shuffle on the grass. He let out a heavy breath and puts his face in his hands. Tears pour out of his grey eyes. ‘I can’t do this to Astoria.’ He felt so guilty. As if he was cheating on his wife. Why did he need to feel this way? What would Scorpius think? Would he think he's replacing his beloved mother?

“I’m sorry, Astoria.” He cried. He headed to the master’s bedroom and dozed off.

The next morning, Draco had realized it was a mistake to send Y/n home, because Scorpius had been nagging him all day about her whereabouts. It went on for an entire week as well. He also felt very lonely, she brought light into the dark home. He needed her, whether it was as a friend or a partner.

He decided to make amends, so he took Scorpius to the ice cream parlor.

Y/n heard the bell at the door, she was ready to serve her next customer, until she realized who it was. Draco and Scorpius. “What can I get you two?” She said professionally. “Strawberry.” Young Scorpius replies. So she scooped some strawberry ice cream for the 6 year old, and handed the cup to him.

Scorpius thanks her. “Go find us a seat. I’ll be there in a second, Scorp.” Draco says to him. Draco pats him on the head before sending him away. “And you sir?”

“Come on, Y/n. Don't be like that. I’m here to apologize.” He looks into her e/c eyes. She sighs loudly before going to face him. She walks towards him. “Talk.”

“I’m sorry. I apologize for ignoring you and for sending you off after confessing something big like that.” He grabs Y/n’s hands. “I have feelings for you. And I thought that if I ignored you, they might go away, but they didn't. Having a crush on you felt like I was cheating on Astoria. I felt guilty, and I didn't want Scorp to think I’m replacing his mother.” She furrowed her eyebrows but let him continue. “Ever since you entered my life, you’ve helped me become a better father and helped me mourn. You're my best friend, N/n, sending you away made me realize how much you’ve impacted me and Scorpius’ life. My life was boring, and miserable, but you came in, and you pieced me back together and fixed my broken heart. Astoria would’ve want me to be happy, and I’m happy with you.”

“Wow.” Draco chuckles at her one word. “That was one of the most beautiful declarations of love I've ever heard.” She threw her arms around him, and he quickly returns the gesture. They both knew what the other wanted.

Draco and Y/n pulled away from each other a little, but only to lock lips. Y/n’s hands were placed on his waist, while Draco’s pale hands were on her face.

Kissing each other was like hearing an entire symphony, adrenaline rising, and making them want more affection from each other. Draco once felt like he would never be happy again, but now he's the happiest he's been in over a year.

She pulls away and smirks, “I’ll get your ice cream now. I’ll see you once my shift is over.”

[chdarling]

Where does your love for the Marauders come from? Just curious :)

Suffering. 🙃

ok I’m being facetious but I was actually talking about this earlier and it got me reflecting on my Youthful HP Fan Days and how I related to Remus Lupin in such a deeper way than some of my friends at the time, who admittedly had very different life experiences than me.

One friend and I got in a (mostly lighthearted) argument about this, as he was very dismissive of Remus and complained that none of his choices made any sense, that he couldn’t understand why Remus didn’t insist on being a bigger presence in Harry’s life, that his freak out about Tonks in book 7 was completely out of character and also made him irredeemable, etc. He did not realize he was telling all of this to the president of the Remus Lupin Defense League (me) and let me tell you, I went at him. I got all worked up about it, but I just couldn’t get him to see my side. Like, his arguments against Remus weren’t incorrect exactly — He should have been more present in Harry’s life! He did act in shitty ways in book 7! — but they were utterly lacking in compassion and understanding for issues that felt very, very personal to me. I got way more frustrated than a friendly discussion about a fantasy novel warranted and eventually ended the conversation.

Another friend wisely pointed out to me afterwards that people who haven’t dealt with trauma or mental illness might not relate to Remus in the same way that I did. I hadn’t really articulated it at that point, but I had subconsciously connected Remus’s struggles with lycanthropy to my own struggles with depression as a closeted teen. I totally understood how someone could hate themself so much they thought their loved ones were better off without them in their lives. I totally understood putting on a persona of poise and calm only to lose it all when things got just a little too much to bear. And even years later, I still think back to that silly conversation with that friend and get annoyed about it haha.

I love the Marauders because they are broken people. Not because I love suffering for the sake of it (although some TLE readers may disagree hahaha), but because I find that the brokenness gives me a way in. I relate to these characters. They suffer. They fuck up. They hurt each other even when they don’t mean to. But they love each other so much — so much that their friendship is consistently the driving force behind the whole plot of the HP series — and just that representation of broken people building community with each other…ugh, it just speaks to me.

Ok! This got super long and kind of dark!! Haha sorry. This may shock y’all, but I have some feelings about the Marauders 🙃🙃🙃

[lightrises]

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

[babybluebex]

Hi, i was wondering if you could write something where Sebastian Stan is a dad to a little boy and the one who always reads to him before bed, but one night Seb is very tired after shooting, and reader is the one putting him to bed, but the little one refuses to go to sleep until Seb reads to him.

Sorry for my bad Engish, it's not my first languaje. Also, if you don't want to write this I totally understand. 🥰

no! i love the idea!! i tweaked it a bit to fit an idea i was already writing, so i hope you liked what i did with it :) and ur english is perfect my love

goodnight, sleep tight [sebastian stan x reader]

➽ pairing: dad!sebastian stan x fem!reader( y/n) ➽ word count: 2.2k ➽ summary: see above! ➽ warnings: mentions of postpartum depression, angst ➽ a/n: the image of seb in bucky’s costume, getting a little baby to fall asleep makes me go uwu

“Are you guys coming to set today?” Sebastian asked, pressing a kiss to my head. 

“I’ll see if Andy wants to,” I mumbled with a yawn. My husband’s call time was six AM, which was so much earlier than I ever wanted to be awake, so he usually woke me up with a goodbye kiss. “I think we can manage it, though.” 

“Ah, well,” Sebastian shrugged. “He’s barely a year old. I think he’ll like it.” 

“But he’s also your son,” I countered. 

“What does that mean?” Sebastian asked. Even in the dark of the room, I could see the happy glint in his blue eyes. 

“He’s stubborn,” I said. “Won’t do anything if he doesn’t want to.” 

“That’s not a ‘me’ thing,” Sebastian told me. “That’s a Romanian thing. We’re stubborn people.” 

“Regardless,” I sighed. “I think he might be scared of the costume. The mask and the arm and all; it might be a bit much.” 

“He’ll be able to tell it’s me,” Sebastian said. “Kids are like dogs, they can recognize people by smell. Right?” 

“Maybe your smell,” I chuckled, my throat dry from the night of sleep. “Mr. Bucket-Of-KY-Jelly.” 

“That was uncalled for,” Sebastian chuckled. He leaned over the bed, bracing his left hand next to me head, and I turned to fully look at him. “I smell great.” 

“When you shower, you do,” I said, scrunching my nose, and Sebastian laughed deep in his chest. He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, giving me the gentlest of kisses. Sebastian wasn’t usually a gentle creature-- his kisses usually left me with bruised and puffy lips or marks littering my neck and breasts-- but, in the morning, he was so soft and sweet. 

“We’ll continue this later,” Sebastian said. His long hair fell into his face, and I tenderly pushed it behind his ear. Adjusting to the new everything that Seb required for this film was an experience; the long hair, the stubble, and the weight training was grueling for all three of us, especially little Andrei. He missed his daddy dearly, but Sebastian always made up for lost time with nightly tummy-time and stories. Andrei James Stan had loved his dad since before he was born-- the little bastard always kicked up a storm when Sebastian rubbed my belly or talked to me-- and, when he was gone filming something for a long time, Andy got a little upset and overly clingy. Call it separation anxiety or just plain missing his daddy, but Sebastian always made it up to Andy with a special Daddy/Andy night (which also gave me the opportunity to be by myself for a while). 

“I hope not too much later,” I whispered, pulling him down to kiss me again. “I miss you, Seb.” 

“I know, baby,” Sebastian whispered as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I miss you too. Maybe we can get a babysitter or something on Sunday.”

“Great idea,” I said. “Now, you gotta go or you’ll be late.” 

“Ugh,” Sebastian groaned. 

“Go!” I giggled. “My big super-soldier. You gotta show everyone what you’re made of.” 

Just as I spoke, from across the room, Andy made a squealing noise in his crib. The trailer we were living in while Sebastian shot Winter Soldier was a bit small, but it worked perfectly. “Oh, really?” Sebastian said, turning his head to look at Andy. “And what do you think I’m made of, mister?” 

Sebastian moved to his crib as I turned on the lamp, and I watched Sebastian, all muscles and beard and long hair, reach into the crib and pull his infant son into his arms. Andy was born premature, so he was still pretty small, and it made my heart melt. His fluffy hair was in-between a blond and a brown, sorta like how Sebastian’s hair was when he was little, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes. “Really?” Sebastian playfully grimaced, nuzzling his nose against Andy’s. “I think you’re made of yogurt and farts, young man.” 

“Seb!” I snorted. “Don’t say that to him!”

“He is, though!” Sebastian laughed, Andy’s little fist tightening around a lock of his hair. “I don’t see you denying it.” 

“Don’t say our son’s made of farts,” I protested, getting out of bed. “He’s made of wonderful things, like love and kindness--” 

“And yogurt,” Sebastian added. 

“And yogurt,” I acquiesced. Andy did eat a lot of yogurt. “Speaking of, is the little monster hungry? Is that why you’re up so early?” 

Andy nodded, patting his tummy, and Sebastian gave him to me. “Have a good day today, babies,” Sebastian told me, kissing my forehead, then brushing Andy’s hair back and kissing his soft head. “Just text me when you’re coming by.” 

“Sure thing.” 

“This is Sebastian’s baby?” 

Scarlet held Andy in a tender embrace, gazing at him with surprise. She was looking at him with a look of wonderment, like she couldn’t believe that Sebastian of all people could be capable of producing another human being. Nobody on the cast had properly met Andy yet, hence why Andy and I visiting set was such a big deal. “Looks just like him,” she added. 

“Acts like him too,” I chuckled. “Stubborn as hell and eats everything in sight.” 

“Damn, this really is his kid,” Scarlet laughed, and Andy thumped his head down onto her shoulder. “He’s so sweet.”

Andy smiled at Scarlet and gave a happy squeal, and Scarlet turned to face me. “Who’s that?” She asked in a gentle voice, and Andy’s smile turned to me. 

“Mama!” He exclaimed, reaching for me, and Scarlet and I laughed. 

“Smart as hell,” Scarlet added. 

“That comes from me,” I chuckled. Andy took a fistful of my shirt and started to chew on the fabric, but I was used to it. He was teething and chewed on everything; most of my shirts were a little frayed from him. 

“Mean,” said Sebastian from behind me, and I turned and gave a gasp of surprise. I hadn’t ever seen him in full costume before, and it was a shock at first. A leather vest and tight dark jeans, tactical gear everywhere, and a dark mask obscuring the bottom half of his face. And, of course, covering his left arm, a cast-like structure that looked like silver metal with a red star on his shoulder. The arm was covered in little orange dots-- I’m assuming to assist in mo-cap during editing-- and he wore a leather glove on his left hand. 

“Jesus God,” I laughed. “Scared the hell outta me. You look good, babes.” 

“I know,” Sebastian told me, and I knew that he was smirking at me under the mask. “You look beautiful too.” 

“Not really,” I said. “I’m not even wearing makeup.” 

“Still beautiful,” he said, and he reached up and tugged the mask off. He leaned down and, cradling my cheek in his gloved hand, gently kissed my lips. “And the little rascal?” 

“Mm,” I hummed, breaking the kiss. “He’s sleepy. Getting cranky and all.” 

“Has he eaten?” 

“Just did,” I told him. “Before you ask, yes, it was yogurt. But I also gave him some of those blueberry puffy crackers.” 

“Did you save any for me?” Sebastian asked, his eyebrows raising. 

“In my pocket,” I replied. Sebastian and I had quickly discovered that certain baby foods were delicious, especially the fruit-flavored puffy crackers that Andy favored, and I always ended up bringing some with me wherever I went. 

“I know that you’re not eating baby food,” Scarlet laughed as Sebastian reached into my pocket and extracted the plastic bag of star-shaped crackers. 

“They’re good as hell,” Sebastian said, popping a handful into his mouth. “Want one?” 

“I’ll pass,” Scarlet laughed. 

“Ask Mackie, I’m sure he’ll tell you the same,” Sebastian said. Then, he turned his attention back to me. “I could read him a quick story to get him down, if you want.” 

I shrugged. “If you really want to,” I said. 

“Alright, stinker,” Sebastian said, exchanging the crackers for Andy. “Did you bring a book?” 

“Shit, no,” I mumbled. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh, c’mon, man,” I sighed as Scarlet laughed. I frequently forgot that Andy was at the stage where he was repeating things that he heard, and usually Sebastian and I were good about not cussing, because Andy would repeat it for the rest of time. “Don’t expose me like this.” 

“I can come up with a story,” Sebastian said through stifled laughter. “Let’s find a place to get comfy, huh, mister? A nice chair, maybe? I bet Uncle Chris has a really nice chair we can settle in…” 

As he walked away, I felt a presence behind me. I had briefly met Chris at the First Avenger premiere a few years ago, when Sebastian and I weren’t even properly dating yet, but Sebastian and I had eloped, hence no wedding to see him at. “Hey, Evans,” I said and gave him a quick fist bump. 

“Where’re they going?” Chris asked, munching at an orange. 

“To steal your chair in the shade,” I said. “Andy’s getting sleepy and only sleeps when Seb reads him a story.” 

“Cute,” Chris said. “Ya know, Sebastian never shuts up about the two of you.”

“Really?” I asked. “Like, what does he say?”

“Just little stories,” Chris said. “Something you said, or something Andy did. Or just the quick little ‘we had this for dinner’ or ‘we watched this movie last night’. He adores you two.” 

“That’s nice,” I said softly. “I always worry if he’s getting sick of having these two lives. It must be a lot for him.” 

“I can’t read minds,” Chris said. “But I don’t think he could ever get sick of you.”

I nodded slowly. “I was diagnosed with postpartum depression after Andy was born,” I started quietly. “I was so anxious that I wasn’t sleeping, I couldn’t stop crying, I… I even thought about packing a bag and leaving and not coming back. It was so fucking hard, and I thought for sure that Sebastian would ask for a divorce or something. I guess I’m still a little worried about that. But that’s… That’s really helpful, Chris. Thanks.” 

I tried to contain my tears, but Chris must have seen through my crumbling facade, because he wrapped me in a tight hug. “You’re so strong, Y/N,” he whispered. “Know that I’m proud of you, and Scar, and Mackie, and all of us, but especially Sebastian. Man, he fucking loves you so much. There’s nothing that you could do that would make him hate you or want to divorce you. I don’t know much about your relationship, but I know that.” 

I was glad I wasn’t wearing makeup, because I knew that it would be smeared across my cheeks by now. It was one thing to hear it from Sebastian, but from an outsider like Chris, it meant the world. “Thanks,” I whispered. “That means so fucking much.” 

“And, hey, I kinda know how it goes with a baby,” Chris began. “My sisters have kids, and I’ve played babysitter plenty of times. And I’d say I’m pretty good at it. No complaints so far. So, if you ever need a babysitter to get a break for a night, I’d love to help.” 

“That would be so nice,” I sighed into his shoulder. “Not to be TMI…” I paused to let him stop me, but his hand comfortingly ran up my back. “It’s been a while since it was just… Me and Seb, ya know what I mean?”

“I do,” Chris said. “You have my number.” 

I nodded and detached myself from Chris, and I chuckled as I wiped my face dry. “I’m gonna go find my boys,” I said. “Thanks for that, man.”

“Anytime, Mrs. Stan,” Chris said with a smile. 

It wasn’t hard to find Sebastian and Andrei. They were settled in a canvas chair under a tarp shade, with Andy’s little head resting on his shoulder. He seemed like he was already out like a light. “... So Steve is like ‘Bucky?’ and Bucky looks at his friend and he says ‘Who the hell is Bucky?’, which is not that good. Because Bucky should know who Steve is, right?” 

“Are you telling him spoilers for the movie?” I asked, putting my hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. 

“It’s the only story I could come up with on the spot,” Sebastian said. “But he seems to like it… Or not like it. Does it mean he thinks it’s boring if he falls asleep during it?” 

“I think it means that he loves you,” I said. “And he finds comfort in you, even when you look like that.”

“Look like what?” Sebastian asked. When I didn’t answer and only gave him a playful smile, he said, “When I look like what, Y/N Stan?” 

“So different than usual,” I offered with a shrug, and Sebastian rolled his eyes. 

“You’ll pay for that,” he told me, patting Andy’s back gently. “What were you talking to Chris about?” 

“He was just telling me some nice things,” I said simply. “About how you’re always talking about me and Andy. And he said that he’d babysit whenever we need him to.” 

“Hmm,” Sebastian hummed softly. “Sounds promising. I really miss you, baby.” 

“I miss you too,” I told him. “Now, my love, you have work. Be good and kill Chris for me.” 

“Anything for you, my baby.” 

[somecunttookmyurl]

This discussion has all been very interesting timing for me because I think I’m starting the process of getting an ADHD diagnosis.

I’ve had lots of executive functioning issues for a long time that generally get worse during school or when I try and hold a job longer than 6 months.

It’s always been attributed to anxiety and depression (which made sense with how I felt and my family history) but SSRIs always felt like they were just turning off my emotions and not fixing any of my issues.

After having a total meltdown this past semester I decided to go back to therapy and I just had my first intro appointment. After like 30 minutes of talking about my symptoms he’d asked if I’d ever thought I might have ADHD. I said that there were some symptoms people talked about that I could relate to, but I wasn’t sure.

THEN HE ASKED ME ABOUT CAFFEINE. My entire life I thought people were exaggerating how caffeine felt (super awake, jittery, etc) the same way “sugar rush” is a made up thing. For me it’s always helped me relax and focus more. I can’t watch movies without it caffeine or I just get distracted by my thoughts.

I’ve always had sleep problems because it feels like my brain just won’t turn off and doctors have blamed it on my caffeine intake and didn’t listen when I said caffeine has never affected me like that. I can have like a liter of diet pepsi and then take a really good nap or just fully go to bed.

I didn’t know that was an ADHD thing. I wish I’d brought it up to someone earlier and maybe I could’ve been diagnosed and treated before I failed out of college the first two times 🤦‍♀️

it really would save everybody so much time and hassle if we simply included the caffeine question as a diagnostic

my ADHD therapist thinks it's awesome i yell about stuff on here bc i just. so many people have bad psychs or don't understand their symptoms or don't know what the drugs are supposed to be doing and then they come back later like "THANKS WE FIXED IT"

bc the thing is psychiatrists do not study psychology. they go to regular medical school and then do a year or two specialisation in psychiatric drugs but that's all they are required to do. mostly they're useless on fucking purpose and it has been the bane of my existence since i was getting my psychology degree in 08/09

i'm not going back into clinical bc i would murder the weird neurotypicals who go into it within a week, but fuck it if i can sit here shouting what i know into the void and it helps then that's good enough. even if all it does is prompt you guys to look into shit.

but every time i correct some dumbass psychiatrist's decisions from halfway around the world it adds a year to my life i'm gonna be fucking immortal at this rate

[dailydnp]

British YouTuber, presenter, and author Daniel Howell offers a practical yet poignant look into mental health – his own struggles held up as a mirror for anyone else going through the same – in his book You Will Get Through This Night.

Written in conjunction with psychologist Dr Heather Bolton, the book is an amalgamation of Howell’s own experiences and Dr Bolton’s expert perspective combined to create a reading that feels like a personal attack in the best of ways, forcing you confront, embrace and then overcome your perception of your own mental health.

Best described as, “a practical guide to taking control of your mental health for today, tomorrow, and the days after,”  You Will Get Through This Night takes readers through Howell’s mental health journey, wrapped in his trademark sense of humour and nuggets of wisdom that urge them forwards in their path to a healthier mindset.  

Speaking to 1883, Howell describes what pushed him to write the book, learning to question his normal, how upbringing and culture impacts one’s perception of mental health, the role that a sense of humour plays in getting the conversation around mental health started and more.

Was there a particular moment that solidified your decision to write this book?

I think it was just realizing the power that every single person has to tell their story and break down the wall. Because with mental health, it’s the thing that every single person has a universal experience of. And yet, we all like to go, ‘I’m fine,’ when we’re completely having a meltdown on the inside and it was me opening up, not because I thought it was a nice idea just because I thought I had to open up about what I was going through with my depression, my sexuality. I went through 27 years of terrible mental health, without even realizing that you’re not supposed to be that way. It’s the idea that we all think we are broken, born in a certain way and doomed to feel that way forever, and that’s fundamentally wrong. I thought I’d like to write this book because other people may see themselves in it, notice that they relate to something, and therefore maybe there’s something about themselves that they need to work on. I literally I just wrote the book that I wish I could have read, because for me it was a struggle to even find the resources and the advice I needed.

You’ve mentioned in the book, that you never questioned your symptoms and that you were taken aback when the doctor said you were suffering from depression. But where there moments before that you started questioning this perception of what was normal to you?

I think it became my normal to feel bad all the time, which sounds dramatic but it was me. I thought it was all to do with my choices, age, environment and my job. But mental health is deeper than that, it’s something deeper and it’s something that you can actually have a positive effect on, which is what I wish I knew earlier, and it only happened when I got to a point where I was struggling, so much that I couldn’t even function day-to-day. In my mind, there was either nothing or there’s crazy. I thought you just have to get over your problems or you are totally crazy, which is so ignorant but that’s just not the truth. So, I went to a doctor and he said I think you might have depression and that is a real thing. And there’s lots that you can do about it. It’s about just understanding everything to do with how your thoughts and feelings work, the relationship between your biology and how you interact with the world physically. It was such a slow and painful journey to learn all of that that I thought, I’m just going to put it all in here and the idea is that for someone who picks up this book, they can go right in. I’ll put it up on the shelf and then when I need to read it, I’m going to pick it up and open it  again. So, I just wanted to be super practical.

I really liked this quote in the book “breakdown can be breakthroughs”. So, when was the last time you can think of that a breakdown led to a breakthrough for you?

Every other week, like you know, all of us. It’s just human instinct to try and stick through it and ignore the problems especially with work. It’s a great excuse to lie, “ I know I feel bad but I’m really busy.” And it goes like that until things get way too intense. For me, there were moments where I felt I simply cannot keep going in my career or day-to-day life or try to pretend like I’m funny, until I deal with the fact that I’m gay. And though there was this terrible feeling like “have I hit rock bottom?” But the thing with any obstacle is that it stops you from going in the wrong direction and when you are forced to turn around usually it means you’re confronting the truth for the first time. Usually if someone has a breakdown, if you hit that wall in your life, that point where you absolutely can’t keep going until you turn around and something scary is going to be waiting, it means you’re going in the right direction. When you have these moments of confrontation, instead of procrastinating or running away, if you face it then it’s hopefully better days ahead.

Speaking of procrastination, you talk about burnout and the five-minute rule in one section. How do you strike a balance between not procrastinating and getting things done, but also not overworking yourself?

The human concept of work is very strange and it’s just one of those great examples of something that we’ve all brainwashed ourselves to see a certain way, to put value on certain things that are ultimately probably not great and inevitably lead to another dramatic moment of self-destruction and procrastination, which are both associated with so much guilt and shame.But in reality it’s not because I’m lazy that I don’t want to start this thing, it’s probably I’m terrified of starting this thing because I know that it’s important, I don’t want to fail at it. So, think of the five minute rule as ripping the plaster off, because it’s always the fear of starting. That was me, writing this book and feel like I’m not in the mood to do that, but then moment I start then I’d just write for consecutive hours. Again, it’s just snapping out of the mindset that you’re probably on, which goes I’m doing this because it’s important, and I have to do it. You probably don’t have to do it, you’re probably just running from something else. So, whether you are procrastinating, you think you’re lazy, or  you’re telling yourself that you have to put up all of your issues to deal with whatever you’re busy with, you need to flip it around and look at it, not just from in healthier way but in more honest way. I’m not going to cripple myself with guilt and shame about procrastination but I’m not going to over work myself.

You’ve also written about how one of the worst things you can say to someone going through depression is to get over it. What’s the hardest of trying to get people to understand that it isn’t something you can get over?

I think you cannot underestimate how profoundly ignorant most of the world still is about mental health and that’s not people’s fault. It’s just that science, education and culture has just not been doing the right thing even if science recently has come a long way. We’ve got hundreds of years of stigma that come from. Breaking down the barriers, by being honest, with someone one-to-one is a great way to do that. And it just telling them “I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine. I just want to tell you that, I feel that way.” And for a lot of people who say they don’t understand depression, anxiety etc, if just say I feel bad and I want to do something about it, people usually empathize with it. I also think lot of people want not take it seriously when other people say that because they feel like where was their help when they needed it? I think that the human nature is usually to feel almost jealous that someone else is asking for help or sympathy and they want to get better but you have to talk back to that voice and say maybe this is an opportunity for me to finally, be honest about how I might have been feeling the whole time. Because at some point you have to break the cycle.

Though you’ve said how you can’t underestimate how ignorant people can be, there’s a section of the book where you talk about how you uploaded your video, “Basically, I’m gay,” and braced for negativity. But that you were surprised by all the positive responses. So, what’s the most recent instance you can think of where you were pleasantly surprised by humanity?

Something that anyone that has to admit something, they’re going through and has in common, whether that’s something that’s come out as gay or someone just admitting that they’re just really stressed or feeling very anxious, is feeling like they have to constantly explain themselves. This is just an example of how you can be afraid of what people will say but when you’re really just honest about something that you’re going through, people usually relate to it on a day-to-day level. Whenever I talk to someone about mental health or sexuality, who may think its weird at first but as I describe my thoughts and feelings, they may relate to it even if they aren’t going through exact same thing as you. For me, a year after coming out and I still have that conversation on a daily basis. As a teenager, I had that deathly fear, that I couldn’t tell anyone because it would be terrible, but now I realize that actually most people are just scared. They aren’t inherently hateful; they’re just putting up that wall because they think that being vulnerable leaves them for attack. But actually, if we’re all vulnerable we’d be a lot happier.

Speaking of vulnerability, you touch upon your upbringing in the book and how it sort of taught you to keep a stiff upper lip. When did you start learn to be vulnerable and what was the biggest challenge with that?

Being a young British man, going to an all-boys school or the comedians that I looked up to on TV – everyone was so cynical. It was about trying to be as like edgy as possible and like act tough, and not show this vulnerability in case it’s seen as weakness. I think that I carried this perception all the way into my mid-20s, it seeped into every part of my personality. A lot of the stuff that I made, when I was younger, had this cynical edge to it and it was only when I started to get more followers from around the world that I began people started questioning that cynicism. At first, I’d go “this is British humour,” but a few years later, I just started to reflect about the way I was about myself and realized it was a bit more than a joke have, I actually started to let this self-hatred and the lack of empathy towards how I feel sort of eat me up. I think because only because of the people who have followed me over the years, giving me a reflection of who I am through how they’ve perceived me that I’ve been able to break free of my default programming.

About your sense of humour and how you kind of make sense of how you’re feeling through jokes, have you ever felt misunderstood -particularly given the cultural differences of your audiences  you just mentioned – like you’re trying to make light of something that a lot of people suffer from?

Yeah, there’s  a weird line and there’s lots of conversations these days about what you’re allowed to joke about. What the difference between talking about something, being comfortable with it and almost glamorizing it. But I think if the biggest problem with mental health globally is people don’t even want to admit that they’re wrong. And that they don’t even know that they were wrong. A bunch of people joking about how depressed they feel could be a  good thing because they have at least taken the first step. So, I think it’s good that people can joke about things in a way that breaks the ice as long as they all know, in the same way that my book might make them feel very personally attacked that just behind that joke that you put up to protect yourself, there is something that you should work on. Even if it’s painful, that it will make you happier.

You mention celebrating small wins in the book. What win are you celebrating today?

I have just moved house and I have a toilet that doesn’t flush yet. But I managed to stick a coat hanger, inside the toilet and to make it flush. I just got my own toilet to flush, and for me, that’s such a miracle. It was a perfect example of how we take so many things for granted in life, whether it’s something huge to do with your health, the state of the world, your privilege. But I now have a flushing toilet and everything else felt easy. I can handle it because I got some perspective.

You also touch on the importance of inner circles in the book. , When was the last time, you personally reached out to bring someone into your inner circle and do you remember how you did it?

I am so awkward and awful at making friends and it’s something that usually, I’ll have one of those breakdowns where I go, “I have no friends.” The next day, I’ll wake up and DM people, out of every three people I DM two-point-nine will just ignore me and I will be very embarrassed. But then one of them will  say “ yes, in two and a half weeks, we will go get a pizza.” And you only have to succeed a couple times ever to make friends that you hopefully will see more than once. I know from experience, it can be embarrassing, painful and not fun to try and reach out to new people but you just start adding one person, every two years until you have a friend group.

While working on this book, I know you consulted with a psychologist for it, aside from your lived experiences. What did you learn about mental health while looking at it from an outside, expert perspective?

I think one of the biggest revelations for me while writing this book is realizing how much of it isn’t a logical thought in our head. So much of mental health is controlled by our body, and the physical things that we experience. It’s about just how we breathe, how much light, and fresh air. And the problem is in our modern world, our brains are looking at everything as a threat. As soon as you realize actually, humans are not as complicated and mysterious as we think, we’re just little animals trying not to get murdered. It was freeing to know because that meant we aren’t born with this magically broken consciousness, that’s just doomed. It definitely made me look at mental health for what it is rather than the mysterious fog of pain that I thought it was for the last 10 years that I had absolutely no control over.

You’ve said that you’re obviously not done with your mental health journey, but where are you on that journey at this moment in time?

I’m doing a lot better than I was simply because I can understand what I feel, and why, and that it’s normal now. And I honestly feel like that’s 90% of it. Most people don’t ever question their lives. If they spend too much time, feeling overwhelming you stressed or if they worry too much and they’re just not enjoying life day-to-day. But just knowing that there’s something you can do about, it gives me enough hope. From writing the book, I know everything I can do to get better.

Finally, what’s one question no one has asked you so far that you wish you were asked?

I think it’s just how do I convince the other people in my life to take mental health seriously?  I realized from writing this book and now, talking about it that the biggest problem I have is that most people simply do not think the conversation about mental health, or mental health,  applies to them because they’re fine. So many people think mental health is only something for people that have crippling depression or serious anxiety disorder, but it’s just how all of us, think and feel all the time. If you have bad self-esteem, if you worry about everything, if you have a way of looking at the world that’s really negative and you expect the worst, then  you might not need to immediately have an intervention with a psychotherapist, but you need to understand your mental health. Even if you read this book and say you are totally fine, then you still need to know this stuff so you can understand why you are fine. There will be a point in life where you need to make yourself feel better and mental health isn’t about waiting until you snap, and then picking up the pieces and going on medication. It should be about knowing how to keep yourself healthy and happy so that you don’t have a breakdown. Everyone has mental health, and that’s the thing that I wish I could just shove into everyone’s faces.

[analyzingadventure]

I’ve wanted to write about this for ages and Psi has kind of made relevant so

I always thought it was weird if we saw a Digimon die and then come back as the exact same species of Digimon.

(This isn’t specific to any series though I do use Adventure a lot in this discussion. May also contain spoilers for Psi)

Now admitedly there aren’t too many examples of this in the franchise (Patamon and Leomon being one of the few notable ones), but that is mainly because deaths are fairly rare, and even deaths we do see, it’s even rarer to see them come back (even when we know the mechanics of the world should make it totally possible)*. But nonetheless, it always felt weird to me when it did happen (or when us fans assume the Digimon would come back as the same species)

To properly explain why it feels weird to me, I first need to ramble about Digimon as “persons” and evolution as a whole

The thing that makes people who they are, are their memories. It’s their life experiences and their feelings of those experiences. It’s not where you’re born, the community you live in or the culture you’re raised in- of course these do affect who you are, but all they do is influence your life experiences and feelings about everything. They are incredbly imporant, and they play a factor in making you “you”, but those things aren’t “you”; “you” are your memories.    And an imporant note here, is that who you are changes as you grow older, as you gain more experiences, feelings and memories. That’s why the “10yo you” is different from the “20yo you” or "40yo you” (etc), and why you will continue to change, even if it was ever so slightly, as you get older. Hell, the “you” who started reading this essay minutes ago is already a different person from the “you” who is reading this sentence right now. “You” are everchanging, ever-evolving.

So what makes a Digimon “them”? Or, more specifically, what makes each Digimon the species they are?    Yes, this is a deeply related question for me, because we humans (I swear I’m not a robot) do express “who we are” outside, through our actions, our interests and how we appear to others, though not just what clothes we wear but also stuff like how we do our hair, tattoos, bodymods etc, not to mention things people don’t have control over from eye color, race, bodytype, height, all the way to disablities.

So if we as humans express so much (and so little) of “who we are” through how we appear, how would Digimon do it? How do Digimon express who they are?

It always just made sense to me if that was through evolution. That just as a Digimon experiences things, their evolutions will reflect the person they are, their feelings, memories, who they want to be.

Honestly this is one of the main reasons why I’ve always hated strict, Pokémon-like evolution lines (not even trees, just lines!!) in Digimon, the idea that these non-physical, A.I. data monsters can only appear a certain way through their lifespans based on whatever they were born as is just depressing to me. And while one might argue “it’s just how they are”, that rule only exists if you specifically go out of your way to write it in, otherwise there’s no reason for it to exist, but I’m getting super sidetracked ranting right now

Like just as an example of the kind of freedom I like to think Digimon could and should have, I want you to picture in your mind an Agumon.

Just a regular ol’ Agumon, living in the Digital World, minding their own business. This Agumon starts travelling for fun, enjoying seeing the world and whatever. During this time they realize they’re not really built for travelling and while their stamina increases as they go on and they get better at hiking, they still kind of wish they were more “built” for this type of activity so that they could enjoy their life more- And eventually they evolve into a Centarmon! Now they can move faster (etc) and enjoy their travelling life more, and they do just that! Life is great!     Until one day they come across the ocean, a beautiful, vast “world” of its own, but one... they can’t explore, at least not any longer than they can hold their breath. They still spend their time exploring what they can, near the beaches etc, until one day their wish to explore the ocean is fulfilled and they evolve into a MegaSeadramon! And now they have great access to the oceans!

Like this example is very extreme, but you get what I mean, with the idea that the evolutions reflect the type of person the Digimon is, what they enjoy and who they want to be. It’s the ever-evolving reflection of their heart that I love

**(Sidenote at the bottom)

And this is why I think it'd make sense if Digimon came back as a different species entirely.

Because while death may have reset their evolution stages back to zero, if the Digimon retains all their memories from their previous life, all their experiences, hopes, wishes and dreams, all of their feelings... Then why would all the growth the Digimon had gone through in their previous life be reset? Shouldn’t their new life continue their previous growth and take different forms to reflect any new paths the mon might take in this life?

Just to use the Agumon from above as an example, if this mon died after spending quite some time as a MegaSeadramon, loving being a sea serpent and living in the ocean, wouldn’t it make sense they came back as a Sangomon instead of an Agumon (and yeah I think the Baby forms could be different too, depending on what they were but I’m skipping these)? Now of course, if they were happy living in the ocean and just totally content there, it’d make total sense if they then evolved to Seadramon and finally back to MegaSeadramon, I’m not saying they can’t come back to where they started at. What I do think is that it’d be weird if this mon went through the same Agumon -> Centarmon -> MegaSeadramon lifespan all over again if they wanted to be a sea-dweller from the get-go.     And of course, as I alluded earlier; what if this Digimon, while living in the ocean as a Sangomon during their second life actually felt like they had seen what the ocean had to offer? What if they started hoping they could explore the skies? What if that wish helped them evolve to Airdramon instead, and they never go back to being a MegaSeadramon?    This is what I mean when I say the second life would be a continuation of their life and their growth, it shouldn’t reset those things.

Now of course, from a simple writing point of view, it’d be confusing if a Digimon we were previously familiar with died and came back as a totally different Digimon, and even more confusing for kids. It’s easier to keep it simple and leave the Digimon the same species as they were in their previous lives

Additionally, most of these characters that we’ve seen die have always been minor characters with limited to non-existant histories; characters like Leomon, Whamon, Scumon+Chuumon, Piccolomon etc, while they’re all really well characterized with distinct personalities, they don’t have histories, backstories, they’re not deep characters. And making this many minor characters with deep backstories for a kids show would be really hard to pull off when you have deadlines to meet and no budget. So showing “the growth” these Digimon have gone through is not really do-able, not with these characters at least.

The Digimon with the most potential here would be Orgamon (the best developed minor character in Adventure) but he never died, Nanomon for sure, and possibly Wizarmon (esp. since his data could be like mildly busted, due to not being a Digimon originally and then dying in the Human World; if anything I think it’d be fun if Wizarmon could “come back” but as a Bakemon or something)

And as far as Patamon goes in Adventure, I do think with him it’s fine he came back in the same Digimon forms.    Like my previous examples with “the Agumon”, this would be like natural evolution that happens over long, looong periods of time, years upon years no doubt, as the Digimon grows as a person. But the partner Digimon, they don’t really have the time to grow naturally, their evolutions aren’t really reflections of their growth. Rather, their evolutions are just powered up versions of who they are, with some reflection from their human partners. So with these partner Digimon (especially the Adventure-type “soul fragment” Digimon, less so with other series like especially Xros Wars), the evolutions being super linear does make sense and work just fine. And as an extention of that, these Digimon dying and coming back in the same species works out, like with Patamon in Adventure

Psi however, makes things a lot more interesting, because in Psi, the partner Digimon have backstories of their own.

Now for the most part, since the partners had lost their memories of their time fighting Mille as the Warriors, their growth being totally reset and them going through the same steps all over again does kinda make sense, it’s maybe a lil dull but that’s probably just my bias from being overly familiar with these characters.

But then there’s Patamon and Tailmon, two Digimon who retain their memories from their previous lives and the growth they’ve gone through. That growth, was own their own, from their own lives without any influence from any humans. But now, they have human partners, who influence them and their growth. And Psi has seemingly kind of spoiled the endgame for us, at least to some capacity?

We know in their previous lives Patamon and Tailmon were a Seraphimon and an Ofanimon, but based on the new key visual/poster, it seems Psi wants to use Goddramon and Holydramon as their final evolutions instead! And honestly, even if these evolutions didn’t come as a result of all the stuff I’ve rambled about in this post, it’ll still work for me for those reasons.

Additionally, while we know Patamon was only temporarily taking the form of Pegasmon because he lost his power and was literally unable to evolve to Angemon, for previously mentioned reasons if they had kept the Pegasmon evolution for the rest of the series it still would’ve worked for me, as it could’ve been seen as Pegasmon being a reflection of Takeru’s childlike innocence influencing Patamon’s evolutions

But yeah. I can’t remember if I had like a bottom line when I started writing this but it sure as hell is gone from my mind now, point is, I kinda wish Digimon’s evolution was seen slightly differently and written slightly differently, and explored more, especially through the Digimon who had previously died (who I would also like to see come back when the rules of the universe allow it instead of just ignoring the fact that they should be alive and well). And generally speaking I wish Digimon were written with more depth. Thank you for reading this incoherent mess

*Sidenote; arguably I think this could’ve applied to tri. as well, the Digimon who had their memories wiped completely could’ve totally evolved into different Digimon and maybe even should’ve

**Sidenote, this wouldn’t mean there’s NO limitations to what species a Digimon could evolve into; for example, just because you want to be a super powerful heroic Digimon like Omegamon it doesn’t mean you CAN evolve into Omegamon; if being valiant and heroic at heart were requirements to evolve to Omegamon, then unless you’re truly valiant and heroic at heart then you probably wouldn’t be able to evolve to Omegamon, if anything you might end up as Omekamon instead. Similarly if a certain species have other specific requirements, be it like Jogress requirements or Digimentals etc, then unless those requirements were met the evolution wouldn’t be possible     So what I’m getting at is that limitations/requirements could totally still exist (depending on the rules of the specific setting), but being “the right species” to go from A to B wouldn’t and shouldn’t be one, at least not in my heart, but I digress

[divineluce]

Research Reunion || Orion & Luce

Timing: May 11th, 2021

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @divineluce

Location: The Scribrary

Description: Who else would know phoenixes better than a Scribe? Luce goes to Rio for help-- third time’s the charm. Right?

Grabbing her backpack from the passenger seat of her car, Luce glanced up at the Scribary. She remembered the last time she’d been here, vividly, in fact. She’d been asking Rio for help that day too. Help for… Swallowing, she slid the backpack over her shoulder, keenly aware of the books inside. They were the one she’d borrowed from Rio, months and months ago. Books about ghosts, about exorcisms. She’d poured over every single page, trying to figure out how she could do something. And in the end, she hadn’t even been able to help. She’d failed. Nadia was safe, but no thanks to her. It was like how Remmy was safe, how Bea was safe-- by virtue of being nowhere near this town, they were safe. Luce made her way to the door of Scribe HQ and knocked on the door. “Hey. I need your help.” She said, not looking at Rio. The last time they’d seen each other… She didn’t want to think about that. Instead, she awkwardly held up her backpack, “I’ve also got some overdue books.”

Orion hadn’t expected to hear from Luce. The two hadn’t seen each other since everything with Lydia. And the last that he had heard from her was the alcoholic apology for punching him. Rio just hadn’t been sure which time specifically she had been apologizing for. Maybe it was meant as a catch all. Broken cheek bone aside, getting punched was nowhere near the reason that Rio expected the two hadn’t seen each other since the incident. The whole situation with Lydia… it still weighed on Rio. People had died. Instead of getting to help, Rio had been promise bound into hurting his sister and friends all in an attempt to help a serial killer escape. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for being so naive. At the end of the day, Rio and Luce had never been particularly close. She was more like the sister of the best friend of the person Rio had been dating. Familiar with each other by extension, acquaintances by association. “Hi there.” Rio held the door open, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous tick while conveniently covering half of his face with his arm. Just the memory of Luce made his face throb. “I really hope we can do introductions without the uh- punching thing this time.” Rio smiled innocently, though the joke sounded more like a genuine plea than anything a normal person would laugh at. But if there was anything that could get Rio out of that funk it was the mention of his books. “Really?! That’s amazing. That means I can take you off my list. Come on, follow me we can head back to the library.” Rio waved her inside and started off down the winding hallways, “So uh- it’s been a while. How ya been?”

Grimacing at the memories of how she’d… greeted him in the past, Luce offered a tight lipped smile. “Nope. No punching this time.” She said. Christ. He was just a fucking kid. And she’d fucking clocked him. Twice. She needed to work on that. She needed to work on a lot of things, but decking kids was definitely on the list. Slipping the bag off her shoulder, Luce pulled out two of the thick leather bound books and tossed them to Rio. “Yep, right here. Ghosts and Ghouls and Diaries of an Exorcist. Real light reading.” She said before squinting in slight confusion. “A list?” She echoed as she followed him inside. The hallway seemed a bit brighter than the last time she’d been here and she realized there were lights installed along the halls. Lights that hadn’t been there before-- Winston’s handiwork, she realized. Winston must have fixed the place up before she left. Yet another person who was better off away from here.

Shrugging, she mulled over her response. Out of magic. Out of people to turn to. Which is why she was here, why she’d talked to Leah. “Keeping on keeping on. Just trying to fix some shit, that’s all. What about you?” She asked.

It felt like there were a million books in the Scribrary. Far too many for Orion to ever truly miss a random ghost book that Luce had borrowed a few months back. Still, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that one was going to be back where it belonged and he could mark it off the list. “Oh yeah. I sort of started a list. Like a book check out system, so that I can keep a better track where the books are. If I can’t find one I start to get stressed, so it’s a bit calming to know which ones are in someone else’s hands.” Rio shrugged following the explanation. Even he knew that it seemed a little over the top, but considering people had found their way in before without his knowledge he also thought it’d be a good idea to keep track just in case a book disappeared that he hadn’t lent out. Farther down the hallway, he couldn’t help himself from making further conversation, “For the record, what I said earlier? When you first got here? Totally a joke. I don’t blame you for either time you-” Rio held up a fist and motioned towards his face. “Just so you know.”

Rio wondered what Luce meant by that. What exactly was she trying to fix? It probably had something to do with what she was doing here asking for his help. “Good to hear.” Rio answered regardless. It hadn’t been the most positive answer, but keeping on was about as good as it got in White Crest, “Loaded question. I guess I’m alright, all things considered. It’s just been a long year already.” He didn’t want to bother Luce with all of his issues. It was just depressing and sad, “But I’m glad you dropped by. I’m happy to help with whatever you need.”

“Huh. Guess that makes sense.” Luce said, because it did on some level. She’d never liked books, never really cared much for anything that she couldn’t listen to or see or feel. But it made sense for Rio to keep track of shit. They continued down the hallway in relative silence, Luce aware of how fucking awkward it all was. She’d never really given a shit about Rio. Which was a pretty terrible thing, but it was true. Rio wasn’t someone she’d bothered to get to know-- he was just Winston’s boyfriend. But, he wasn’t just that, was he? He’d been there, that day… he’d seen what she’d done. He’d stood between her and Lydia and she hadn’t cared. And fuck. He was… human. Innocent. “You should. I shouldn’t have punched you. Either time.” She said, her voice dull, sounding almost as numb as she felt. The memories of that day still haunted her. Day and night, what she’d done, it stayed with her.

“Yeah.” Luce said offhandedly. “I feel that. A long fucking year already.” It was hard to believe that a single year had passed since she’d been pulled from her cabin by her parents, forced to live with Bea and Nell. Now, she would give almost anything to even see her parents, let alone argue with them over whether it was really necessary for her to live with her sisters as a grown ass adult. Clearing her throat as they entered a room lined with shelves crammed full of books, “Great. I’m looking for books on phoenix’s. Specifically stuff on what can cause corruption. I reached out to,” Luce paused, not knowing if Rio was exactly on the up and up with Leah, “someone who knows about phoenix’s, but they didn’t know much either.”

It was obvious from her tone that Luce didn’t want to talk about it. Orion couldn’t claim that he wanted to talk about it either. It was awkward. Especially with someone he didn’t actually know well. “I mean the first time was just a misunderstanding. I can’t fault you for looking out for Winston.” Rio shrugged. He hadn’t loved it when it had happened. And he had mostly wished that Luce would have given him at least a minute to try to explain himself before she chose to punch him instead. But Rio and Luce weren’t super close. Luce cared about Winston and owed nothing to Rio. “I can’t say I would have done the same, but that’s just because I’m very non confrontational. I’d rather silently second guess from afar.” The second time was an entirely different story. “And we all know that I wasn’t in control with Lydia. You had to do what you had to do. If anyone should be apologizing it’s me. I threw a knife at you.” The reminder of it flashed through his head. The snapping of Athena’s arm. The air whistling as the knife flew and landed in the back of Luce’s leg. He blinked the images away and tried to focus again. “I’m just saying, neither one was exactly unmotivated.”

Inside the library, Rio was able to breathe a tiny bit easier. Something about the place calmed him. Maybe being here with Luce was not any less awkward than it was in the hallway, but it felt less claustrophobic. Physically and mentally. “Phoenixes?” Rio repeated, crossing his arms and giving a huff as he tried to consider what might be useful. “Honestly? There’s not a ton of information on them in the Scribrary. I have a theory, but can’t really prove it. But I think maybe one of them knew enough about their past lives to take the books that were stored here. Or the Phoenixes that worked as Scribes never trusted them enough with the knowledge.” All of that was speculation, a theory mostly beginning when he learned that Leah’s past life had been involved with the Scribes. Part of Rio wanted to question Luce’s source. Given her sister’s relationship with Leah, it made sense that Leah directly might be the source. But he didn’t have any interest in outing the woman if Luce wasn’t privy to that knowledge. Leah was actually starting to trust Rio, despite his hunter heritage. He didn’t want to give her any reason to jeopardize that. “But I definitely have some stuff on them. Follow me.”

“I should have stopped to think. To ask questions, get some straight answers.” Luce replied dully, her boots falling heavily against the solid stone pavers of the building. How fucking old was this place anyways, she wondered absently. It seemed older than the town itself. “I should have done a lot of shit differently.” She said, but grimaced at Rio’s next words. You had to do what you had to do. No. She’d done much more than that. She remembered the way she’d set fire to innocent bystanders, people caught in the crossfire of a world they weren’t even aware of. She could feel the flames curl and crackle against their skin. She could remember the way rage and fear had coursed through her. “Sure. They weren’t unmotivated.” But they were motivated for the wrong fucking reasons.

Glancing around at the massive store of books, Luce had a hard time believing that the Scribes didn’t have much on the subject of Phoenix’s. They had to have something. They had to have information. Or else… what was Luce going to do? Give up. Go back to Adam and tell her she wasn’t the right person for the job. Her magic was gone, her sister was gone, her family had abandoned her for what she was. And now, she couldn’t-- she couldn’t even find a goddamn book. Luce wrapped her arms around herself as she listened to him, as though she could hold all the remains of who she was together. “Alright. Makes sense to me. Theories and stuff aren’t my wheelhouse, but sure. Lead the way.” She nodded.

Unable to argue that, Orion just shrugged. At the time, he had certainly wished that Luce had stopped to question Rio on the topic or tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Partially because he didn’t enjoy getting punched in the face, but mostly because he had hoped that he ame off friendly and pleasant enough that Luce might have questioned the misunderstanding entirely. He had to remind himself that the two had not been friends at the time. He wasn’t even sure what they were now. “Yeah. Well I get that much. I would have done a lot differently too.” Like never promise a random woman that he would protect her at all costs. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure he would have done anything different. He still wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt. He just couldn’t help himself from making stupid decisions.

Rio didn’t waste any time leading her to the few materials that he had found on phoenixes. Most were journals by other scribes talking about their experience with them, though there were a few self-collected bestiaries that almost devoted a small section to them. Certainly not as vast as some of the more common supernatural creatures. Books about vampires or werewolves took up multiple bookshelves, while mentions of Phoenixes fit neatly on a single row. “I guess theories and stuff is sort of my area of expertise. If you want to call it that.” He honestly wasn’t sure what he would describe as his ‘wheelhouse’. When he got to the shelf, and pulled off a book and started flipping through it, “So if there’s anything about them it’s probably here. Feel free to start flipping through some of them. What kind of corruption do you mean?”

“Shoulda,” Luce kicked at a broken piece of cobblestone, “Coulda,” The stone bounced and skittered across the floor ahead of her, “Woulda.” She said, a grim expression on her face. There were a lot of things she would have done differently. She wouldn’t have let herself get carried away by fear, by anger. She wouldn’t have called in a favor from a woman she hardly knew or understood. She wouldn’t have listened to the words of a kid, of a… fuck. She was more than just a kid. Athena was Rio’s sister. Christ. Rubbing her forehead, Luce followed him to a different section of the scribrary. The books here were all old, leather bound things, with worn spines. No doubt used by generations of Hunters and Scribes alike. And now… her. To try and do something good for once.

“The way I see it, you’re the expert here on books. Theories go right along with that.” She shrugged. Luce wasn’t a theory gal, wasn’t a reader, barely even gave a shit about learning things she cared about. Rubbing a hand on her arm, Luce thought back to the scene she and Adam had witnessed in the forest. The way the fires had burned an natural red, the way a curved beak had seemed to jut from the phoenix’s face, while their head remained human. Pulling another book from the shelf, she paused at an anatomical diagram of a phoenix, in both human and full form. How had the person who wrote this book figured out the anatomy? Had the phoenix in this sketch offered this knowledge? Or had it been taken? Luce cleared her throat. “The flames, they didn’t burn like normal fire. Or normal phoenix fire either. There were feathers, on fire, being shed all over the place. And they didn’t go out on their own. They just kept burning, like oil. And the flames, they didn’t look right. There was this shade of red, to them. I’ve never seen fire look like that before.” She frowned, “And I know fire.”

Listening to Luce’s description, a worried line settled across Orion’ face. “That sounds scary.” He didn’t know much about phoenixes, but that definitely didn’t sound normal. Plus, he trusted Luce if she said that it hadn’t been normal. “Definitely not something you see everyday.” Rio had a bad feeling that if the former Scribe phoenixes did know anything about this it wasn’t something that they would want stored in Scribe records for anybody in the group to see. His only hope was that something was left behind, or somebody was studying the phoenix without their knowledge. Just the thought of that made him feel gross, though. He didn’t want to operate like that. Studying someone that didn’t want their secrets out. He would be better. He had to be. “Do you think they were dangerous?”

Had it been scary? Maybe. At this point, Luce had seen so much shit in this town, done so much fucked up shit… it hadn’t really registered as scary. Which was a troubling thought-- one that she could deal with later. When she wasn’t trying to stop half the woods outside of White Crest from getting set ablaze. Shrugging, she continued to flip through her book, “Nope. Not at all. Apparently, they also were able to melt through a car. Which means they’re powerful. Real goddamn powerful.” She said, thinking back to the melted shards of glass and obsidian, the dried streambed. At Rio’s question, Luce paused. Yes, definitely. But not because they wanted to be. “They’re dangerous only because they’re out of control. Whatever happened to them, it doesn’t look like it was intentional. Magic might change someone’s appearance, but it wouldn’t be enough to alter their flames. I think they’re in trouble.” I think they’re afraid of what they’ve done. What they might do.

Orion continued flipping through his own book, but couldn’t help but glance up at Luce as she described the encounter. She sounded so casual while discussing so insanely powerful. Rio had been dealing with the supernatural his entire life and he still couldn’t quite manage to keep himself that calm. “Woah. Didn’t know that was something they could do. That’s like… insanely hot.” Rio had no idea exactly how hot, but definitely not a safe amount of hot. He realized moments too late what he had said. “Hot as in like actual temperature hot, I mean. Not like attractive hot. For the record. I mean melting a car might be very attractive. I’ve never seen it for myself.” Definitely time to focus on reading that book again. He pulled it up to try to head his reddening face and only peaked over the top to look back at Luce when she gave him the best news he had heard so far tonight. That she didn’t think it was intentional. She didn’t think they were dealing with someone evil, but someone that might need help. Now that he could get behind. “In that case, we have to find something. I want to help.”

“Sure is.” Luce said off-handedly as she read a paragraph about phoenix feathers and molting patterns. Hm. Nothing there. A bit late, she realized that Rio was sputtering over his words. Glancing up from her book, she offered a grin. “Keep it in your pants there. But no, I know what you mean. It’s real fucking hot. I’ve melted metal before, but that shit takes time. And I only did doorknobs. I could never cut something as huge as a car. Guess that’s what happens when you’re basically a living sun.” She said before going back to her book. Fuck, she hated reading. Why weren’t there like… audiobooks for this shit? Or some wise old person to tell her what was up? Well. There were plenty of wise old spell casters in town, the difference was… they just wouldn’t have anything to do with her anymore. She couldn’t exactly go to them for help. So, Rio and Leah were the next best thing. At Rio’s words, Luce looked at him again, expression  pensive. “Why? This isn’t your responsibility, you don’t need to help me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. But why?” Was he trying to ease guilt the way she was, was he trying to atone?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Orion laugh sarcastically, thankful that Luce didn’t spend much time teasing him on the subject. Instead, she surprised him. He knew about her family's power, but he had no idea she had been strong enough to use the fire to cut metal. “That’s impressive. I guess I should have known that fire magic like that could get that powerful.” The extent of his knowledge on spellcasters came from Winston and the Vural family admittedly. The Quinn family had never partnered much with spellcasters to help catch supernatural creatures. They had always been far too proud. He hadn’t been expecting Luce to question his intentions. It took him off guard, mostly because he didn’t really know them himself. Though he had more than a few ideas. “Um… I guess I don’t know the right answer to that.” Rio shrugged, but continued to consider the question, “I guess I’ve seen a lot of bad stuff in my life? I was raised as a hunter, told that supernatural people were inherently evil and unnatural. I knew that wan’t true, but I never got a chance to help them.” More often than not, Rio had stood idly by while watching them get slaughtered. It wasn’t a feeling that Rio would soon forget, the helplessness of knowing he couldn’t stop it. The disgust at himself for not trying anyways. He had failed so many people in this town. He just didn’t want to do that anymore. “Now’s my chance. I don’t want to waste it.”

“It can.” When it works. When it wants to. “But, I couldn’t do something like that even if I wanted to.” Luce said, saying the words her brain was thinking automatically. Luce’s mouth snapped shut and she stared at Rio. Fuck. Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that. She didn’t-- she didn’t want more people to know about this than need be. She didn’t have the protection of the coven and Bea had only just gotten back from New York, she didn’t want to add more to her sister’s plate. Same went for Nell—she didn’t want to force her baby sister to watch her back. If more people knew that Luce was without her magic, it would paint a big fucking target on her back. “I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear anything about my magic. You got it?” She asked, voice shaking slightly.

Listening to his words, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could have thought that this kid could be a hunter. He might have the genes, but there wasn’t a cruel bone in his body. “Yeah. Don’t fucking waste it.” She repeated before looking blankly back down at the book that was clutched in her hands. Any other time, the pages would be scorched and smoking in her grasp, a byproduct of her stress and anger. But the pages were only slightly crumpled under her fingers. Fuck.

Orion was left confused and concerned about Luce’s comment. It had been said so quickly that it had almost completely gone over his head completely. But a few moments after Rio’s eyes narrowed as he became perplexed by the wording. His head tilted, glancing away from the book in order to get a better look at Luce. Before he even had a chance to question her, Luce was talking again. She seemed pretty adamant that this was not something to be spoken of. Or even remembered from the sounds of it. That only concerned Rio more. “Right. Uh- didn’t hear anything.” Rio bit his lip and considered if there was anything else he should say. Adam had experienced something similar with his own abilities. Why did that thing only happen to people that actually wanted the powers? “But uh- if I did hear something, I’d definitely be there for you. Like to help figure that out. But I wouldn’t tell anyone. If I had heard anything.”

Not wasting the opportunity would be a lot easier if Rio knew what to do to help. That was the first step in helping others. Still, he appreciated Luce’s energy. It was intimidating for sure, sometimes downright scary. But it was surprisingly motivating. It made Rio want to find the answer to this more than ever. “I won’t. We’re going to help.” Rio tried remaining confident. Good vibes only. “Even if we have to write it ourselves.”

“Nope. You sure didn’t.” Luce said flatly before looking back at her book. It was useless though. She wasn’t the studying type usually and even less so when she had an audience. She glared up at him, ready to tear him a new one if he kept up on this subject. But, as she looked over at him and saw the expression on his face, she couldn’t help but sigh. She didn’t want his help, but… “We’ve got more important things to deal with than my shit. But thanks. You don’t need to, though.”

“Yeah.” She said with a nod before flicking through her book. “Whatever it takes.” Luce said quietly, the words familiar to her tongue. Not in the same context, not in the same way, but the words were just as true as they were a year ago. Whatever it takes. She’d right her wrongs, one step at a time. As she skimmed over the pages, she paused on what looked like… an ingredient list. It seemed to be talking about some kind of illness-- not corruption, exactly. But something that affected phoenix flames. “Hey. What do you think about this?” She asked, pointing at the list. “Essence of the phoenix stricken by disease. White flowered herbs found where wild creatures roam, bound with sage and lavender to purify. Tears of another freely given and,” Luce squinted at the text, “Fire. Lots of fire.”

Clearly, Luce was serious about not bringing it up. Orion continued to peak over the book at her, trying to pick up on any signs without asking. Asking wasn’t the right idea it seemed. Rio wasn’t sure that he could necessarily relate. He had always hated his abilities, had wished that they would go away. For him, losing them felt like a blessing in disguise. But for someone that seemingly liked and enjoyed the powers they had always had, it must be a lot harder. Like an extension of themselves. Rio didn’t understand, but he could guess that it must feel like losing a part of herself. “Point taken. Subject dropped.” Rio assured her, though he hoped at some point it would come up again.

Rio continued skimming through his own book until Luce pointed something out in the book she was looking through. He bent around to get a better look at the list and scanned through quickly, noting a few words that stuck out to him. “A phoenix disease? Never heard of that before. But that could make sense.” If there was ever a disease specific to phoenixes, one of the first things Rio would consider was their fire abilities and temperature. “So is the list some kind of spell? Or potion maybe?” He squinted at the list further and sighed, “They kept it pretty vague. Except for the fire part.”

At least he dropped it. That was something. Luce focused on the list-- there wasn’t much to go off of at all. It read more like an old ritual that the coven would do, one of the ancient rites that they did on a yearly basis. Big magic, powerful magic. The books Bea had kept, the ones on necromancy, they had featured lists similar to these. They were written to be vague for a reason. “It’s a spell. A potion would have more specific instructions, discussion about tinctures or timing. This is a ritual, some kind of cleansing. The sage and lavender tell me that much.” She tapped the line on the book before flipping the page. But, there were no further instructions, no other words. “Whoever wrote this, they kept their cards close to their chest. And I don’t blame them. The Scribe who figured this out, they must have worked with spellcasters and at least one phoenix. Can’t imagine either of them would have wanted the specifics of a ritual to be written out.” She said with a sigh and pulled out her phone to take a picture of the list. “I don’t know exactly what all of this means. The fire is clear and the lavender and sage are easy enough to source. The specifics of it, though. Can’t tell you.” Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Luce wished she was better at this. Better at all the parts of magic that she’d scorned. Because then, maybe she wouldn’t feel so lost.

Orion listened to Luce’s description intently. He was thankful to have a friend well versed on spells like that. That is what Luce was, right? A friend? Today more than ever, it seemed like there was actually a small chance of that. “Good to know.” Rio nodded, making a mental note of this in the back of his mind. He may never be involved in a spell or potion making, but he would at least remember how to tell a difference between the two, hopefully. “Big shocker there, a scribe being cryptic and vague.” He sighed. For a group dedicated to cataloguing supernatural knowledge for historical use, a lot of scribes didn’t love putting things in layman's terms. “I can’t tell you anything for sure, but I have a couple theories. That part about wild creatures. I would bet they’re referring to more than just your average wild animal. Probably somewhere with a large population of supernatural creatures. And this part,” Rio paused to look at the part about the tears of another, “Phoenix tears are supposed to be special, right? Some kind of super healer or something.”

“Witches aren’t much better. Must be a paranoid magic thing.” Luce said with a shake of her head before shutting the book. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of what it meant and, honestly, she wanted to be able to study the book on her own. It took her time to parse through magical shit, she didn’t pick up written spells and rituals quickly. “Mind if I borrow this? I’ll give it back sooner than the last batch.” She said, shaking the ancient book in her hand. “As far as what you’re saying… It makes sense, but keep looking for anything that might help. We don’t even know if this would help a phoenix who’s been corrupted. This is talking about disease, but I don’t think what we’re dealing with is a disease. I’ve got some leads I might track down, see if they can help.” She let out another sigh. “But yeah. Thanks for your help with this.”

Magic seemed fickle. Orion nodded at Luce’s statement, wondering what made it so different from hunter strength or a werewolf’s ability to turn. In the end, it was all some kind of magic, right? Some unexplained phenomenon that made people stronger or more capable than regular people. None of it made sense. But without any insight, Rio decided to just nod in agreement and leave it at that. “Yeah of course. Take whatever you want. I’ll just make a note of them before you leave. For this archive thing.” He shrugged, sure that she wasn’t interested in hearing about his attempts to modernize this ancient library. “Definitely. I’ll keep looking. Keep me updated okay? So I can help with stuff.”

Shoving the book into her backpack, Luce nodded. “I think just the one will be enough for me. It’s not exactly light reading.” She said as she shrugged on her bag. As she turned to leave, she glanced at the young Scribe for a moment. He really did want to help. And fuck, she needed the help. She wasn’t smart enough, didn’t know enough about magic outside of her own fire. And she couldn’t do this alone. It wasn’t possible, not if she wanted to help this person. “Yeah, I will. I’ll keep you posted. And if you find anything… let me know.” She said before turning her back on Rio and walking back down the dark corridors of the Scribrary. First Leah, now Rio. Who else would know about this? Who else could help her? Who else would understand why she… needed to do this?

It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. “Whatever it takes.” She repeated to herself. Whatever it takes, to bring some scrap of balance back to the world. To right the wrongs in her past. Whatever it takes. 

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. (There eventually be smut, but this part is mostly fluff.)

You had been seeing each other for about three weeks. You still couldn’t believe you had agreed to meeting someone on a blind date. But you were so sick of the online dating scene, so when your good friend Niall from work told you he had a single friend, you jumped at the chance.

He didn’t have any social media, there was an Instagram with his name, but no photos of him. Only pictures he had taken. He was a photographer, and a good one at that. Niall had roomed with him during their undergrad, and stayed mates after graduation. You had wondered why he never mentioned this single friend before.

“Well, after your last break up, I honestly didn’t think you’d ever want to look at another man.” He shyly told you in the break room one day.

It was true, your last break up was a really bad one. It was barely even a break up though because you two were barely dating. You had sex with him rather quick, and after him blowing you off two separate times, he ended things over a text. This sent you into a rather depressive episode. You vowed to not jump into bed with a guy quite so quickly ever again, even if you really wanted to.

You begged Niall to see a picture of him, but he said no. You tried to snoop around Niall’s Facebook page, but you couldn’t be certain of who he was. All you knew was his name: Harry Styles. Niall wouldn’t even give you his number to arrange the date.

“I’ll set everything up for the both of ya, and if it goes well then you can both take it from there.”

You were happy to have a best friend at work. Your days would be boring without each other.  You and Niall were two of the younger people in your office, and you both felt it was necessary to stick together.

“What are you doing this Saturday night?” He asked you Wednesday morning, handing you a coffee. You each took turns buying coffee for the other. Today was his turn.

“Um, I think I was just going to binge watch something on Netflix. Why?”

“Harry was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner.”

“Oh he was?” You raise an eyebrow, and take a sip of your coffee.

“Yes, well I nudged him a little, but I’ve told him a lot about you and he’s very interested.” You blush at the thought.

“Well, I’m definitely free for dinner. Where was he thinking?”

“You’re both vegetarian, well, he’s a vegan actually, but he knows of this really great tapas place that has a lot of meatless options.”

“Wow, vegan. I like tapas so that works for me. What time?”

“Seven. I’ll text you the name of the place so you can look it up.”

“Thanks, this should be fun.” You smile at your friend.

Friday night after work, you decide to do a little shopping. After researching the restaurant, you knew you needed something a little nicer to wear, and you didn’t feel like anything in your closet would make a lasting impression. You drove out to the mall, cursing at yourself for not just going Saturday morning. The parking was crazy, and it felt like everyone and their brother was there. You stumbled into the Macy’s and looked around at their cocktail dresses. You wanted something to accentuate your best features, but also wanted to leave a little mystery. You settle on a basic, black dress. It was form fitting, and hugged just above the midpoint of your thighs. It had short, capped sleeves, and the neckline came just high enough to cover most of your cleavage. It was perfect. You knew you had shoes to match at home, so you didn’t waste any more time at the mall.

Saturday morning, you scrolled through countless hair and makeup tutorials on YouTube trying to find the one that suited you most. After getting frustrated, you settled on your go to hair style. You curled your hair, and waited a couple of hours to brush it out. You then had perfect waves, which almost looked natural. About an hour before you needed to leave, you put your makeup on. You decided to go with a subtle purple to make your green eyes pop, and swept some liquid eye liner over it. You contoured your face (something you had gotten quite good at), and then put your new black dress on. Happy with your appearance, you slide on some purple some nude, strappy heels, and headed out.

As you got closer to the restaurant, you grew nervous. You texted Niall to tell him it was silly you’d be walking into a place, looking for someone you had never met. He asked you what you were wearing, and he would tell Harry to look for you. But what if you got there first? What if he never shows up? How dare he! You thought. You shook the thought from your head and drove up to the restaurant. You circled around back where the parking was. You smoothed out your dress, praying it hadn’t wrinkled, before you walked in. Taking a deep breath, you looked around.

The place was even nicer in person. There was a really big bar, and the dining area looked so elegant. He must do well for himself if he likes this place. Before the hostess could greet you, you saw a somewhat familiar face walking towards you, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

“(y/n)?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, are you Harry?”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you.” He puts an awkward hand out to shake, and you take it just as awkwardly. “That was weird.” He says in a laugh. “I didn’t know if it would be appropriate to hug you.” You runs a hand through his hair.

“No, no, it was very polite. It’s nice to meet you too. You found me pretty quick.” You smiled at him.

“Niall had just texted me explaining what you were wearing. I happened to look up, and there you were.” He smiled back. That smile…you just remembered him.

“Did you happen to go to Niall’s holiday party last year?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Um, yeah. Were you there too?”

“Yes, I was gonna say you looked familiar. I don’t think we properly spoke to each other there.”

“Definitely not, I would’ve remembered you if we had.” You feel your cheeks flush and let out a simple laugh. “Well, our table should be ready. Let me check with the hostess.”

Harry walks over to the woman, who hands two menus to one of the waiters. He says you can follow him. Harry gestures to let you go first. You wondered if it was so he could check you out, but he didn’t seem like the type. He looked so handsome. His hair was short, but not too short that you couldn’t make out his curls. His eyes were green like yours, and he was wearing a pair of blue dress pants with a white button up shirt.

As you both sat down at your table for two, you noticed his nails were painted. How you didn’t notice earlier when you shook his hand, you weren’t sure. Every other nail was this deep orange, and the other a navy blue. You smiled at it. At least he was the type of guy to take care of his nails. He had a few rings on as well, and you could see a couple of tattoos. You assumed he had a sleeve since you couldn’t see the rest of the anchor on his wrist. After a moment you heard him couch, and you realized you were staring. Your eyes darted up to his.

“Sorry, I was just admiring your, um, rings.” Pointing to the H and S.

“Oh, thanks, they were a gift from my mum a few years back.” His accent was already so intoxicating. Now you figured out how him and Niall got roomed together, they both must’ve been international students. “You were looking at my nails too?” Your face feels hot, and you feel yourself sweat a little. “It’s alright, a lot of people stare.”

“No, it wasn’t staring, necessarily. I was admiring it as well. I think more men should get their nails done. It looks nice. I love getting mine done, see?” You put your hand out, and show him your black nails. “I get the shellac so they last longer, totally worth it.” He smiles at you. “How long have you been painting them for?”

“Oh god, years. I mostly started out with black, but then I got bored with it. I felt like I was only doing that color because it ‘masculine’.” He holds up air quotes at the word. “Then I started experimenting with more vibrant colors. I like doing pink and blue a lot, but this also suits me. Then I started getting creative with the placement of the colors.”

“I’ll do an accent nail once in a while myself, but I do like the style of every other color. Maybe I’ll try it some time.”

“I know it doesn’t look super professional, but since I’m not in an office I can kind of do what I want.” He shrugs.

“Right, you’re a photographer?”

“Mhm. Mostly for, like, outdoors type of things. I really like taking pictures at night. But I’ll also do a little freelance work for people who want a photoshoot. I usually clean up good during the wedding season.”

You got so lost in conversation, you nearly forgot you were at a restaurant. A waitress comes over, frantically, and out of breath.

“Hi folks, so sorry for the wait. We got slammed all at once.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” You beamed at her. Remembering your time in the food service industry.

“Can I start you two off with any drinks?” You look at each other, and he gestures for you to go first.

“Um, could I please have a vodka tonic, with titos, and lime?” He gives you a surprised smirk, probably expecting you to have just ordered a glass of wine.

“Sure thing, and for you sir?”

“I’ll have the same as her, please.” The waitress nods, and walks away.

“I take it that’s your drink?”

“Yeah, I’m not really a wine with dinner kind of gal.” The strange thing was, any time you had wine with dinner, you always got drunk. Vodka, however, you didn’t feel as much. You felt sager having that. “You like vodka too?”

“Once in a while, it tastes good with whatever you eat.”

“We should look at the menu and figure out what dishes we want so it’s easier for her when she comes back. I feel bad she was so out of breath coming over here.”

“Good idea.”

The waitress comes back with your drinks, and takes your order. You both had decides on some flat bread with arugula and goat cheese. It wasn’t vegan, but Harry didn’t mind. You also ordered some roasted cauliflower that came with a dipping sauce.

“How long have you been a vegetarian for?” He asks you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Um, a little over a year. I wouldn’t necessarily call it being a vegetarian, I just don’t eat meat.”

“What made you want to stop eating meat?”

“Well, it just didn’t make me feel good. My doctor also told me to straight up lay off the red meat. I got sick of eating chicken and fish, and if I’m being honest the thought of eating it just started to make me not feel good. I do still enjoy the smell of a fresh steak on the grill.”

“So you did it out of health instead of ethics?”

“Yup. I don’t have much dairy either. I love cheese so I keep that in my diet, but I have up milk a long time ago. I stick to coconut milk mostly if I need my fix. What made you go vegan?”

“Health benefits, I suppose. I was also taking a lot of pictures of animals for this one magazine and it just made it hard to even eat fish. I think it’s been five years now.”

“Good for you, that’s incredible.” You take sip of your drink, and notice the bar tender was a little heavy handed with the vodka.

“So, you met Niall at work right?”

“Mhm.”

“I know what he does there, but what do you do?”

“I’m on our marketing team, with him. He and I tag team a lot of projects. I work more with our digital pieces. I photopshop images, and edit video.”

“What made you go into that?”

“Well, when I was younger I wanted to be a film maker, but I fell in love with marketing, and put the film making on the back burner. I still write now and then for fun.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone say they loved marketing before.”

“Well, it’s not so much the marketing, it’s more how creating the right content can change someone’s point of view.”

A food runner brings your food to your table. You both put your napkins in your laps, and dig in.

“Mmm.” You lick your lips after taking a bit of the flatbread. “This is delicious. Great choice.”

“Thanks, I like coming here, there are just so many options.” You see him pick off most of the goat cheese, and feel a little guilty.

“We didn’t need to get this type of flatbread. I feel terrible you can’t fully enjoy it.”

“It’s no big deal really, I can eat everything else on it.” He gives you a reassuring smile.

The waitress comes over to check on you.

“Can I get you both another drink?”

“I’ll have another, yeah. (y/n)?”

“Um, sure, that would be great.” You promised yourself you’d nurse the next one.

“Tell me about Niall in college, I’m dying to know what he was like.”

“Oh, he was rambunctious. Lad never had any clothes on, then again, neither did I.” You nearly choke on your drink. “I think that’s why we got on so well, neither of us liked wearing more than our trousers.”

“Were you both international students?”

“Yup, but we didn’t room together until our second year. We had met at one of the international student events, and we clicked. They made us room with other students from the states to get a more well-rounded experience.” He shrugs. “I remember this one time he came with me to get a tattoo, and he nearly pissed himself.” He lets out a laugh.

“Niall doesn’t have any tattoos.” You furrow your eyebrows and smile.

“No, he definitely does not. He was being a good mate and came with me when I got my first really big one. I have a butterfly here.” He puts his palm flat just under his breast plate.

“What made you want to get a butterfly?”

“Don’t know, I just like the way they look. They have an odd beauty to them.” You felt like you could listen to him talk all night. But your trance was broken when your waitress brought the check over. She told you no rush, but you knew how these things went. You knew she probably needed to get the table turned soon.

You both reached for the check, but Harry snatched it away. He gave you a “get real” kind of look, took his wallet out, and set his credit card inside the small plastic flap, leaving the check on the edge of the table.

“At least let me pay the tip.”

“Sorry, can’t letcha do that, love. Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me would it?” Did he just call you love? It was something Niall did too, but not until he really got to know you. Maybe Harry’s alcohol was starting to hit him, the way it was hitting you. Maybe he just felt relaxed around you.

“I thought you were more progressive than that?” You said jokingly.

“Oh, I am. But I also abide by the rules that whoever asked who out should pay.”

“Okay, that’s a pretty respectable rule, I’ll give you that.”

The waitress sweeps by the table to grab the credit card, and is back in minutes. Harry takes out some cash from his wallet, and signs the slip of paper.

“Thank you.” You say to him.

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles back. “Shall we?” He gets up first, and extends a hand to you to help you up. “Did you park out back?”

“Yup.” You really didn’t want the night to end yet. You look at your watch and it’s only almost nine.

“Great, so did I.”

He walks closely next to you on your wat to the parking lot.

“That’s me.” You point to your car. He walks you over to it, and you lean against your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.” You say looking down at your shoes, then back up at him.

“Me too.” He looks away for second, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks at you again. “Would it be alright to ask for your number?”

“Sure.” You reach into your purse and grab your cell phone. You hand it to him. “Feel free to just text yourself.” He smiles, and takes your phone, putting his number in.

“So, I take it you’d like to do this again?”

“Definitely.” He hands you back your phone, and put it back in your purse. In a bold move, you lean forward and give him a slight peck on the cheek. “Talk to you soon.”

You both blush, he smiles and lets out a nervous laugh. He opens your car door for you.

“Have a good rest of your evening.” He says to you.

“Same to you.”

You drive off, feeling your heart flutter. It was the perfect date. You were proud of yourself. Normally would have tried to make out with a man that attractive, but you showed wonderful restraint. You couldn’t wait for him to get in touch with you again.  

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

I absolutely LOVE Sketchy Saturdays and I always look forward to them!! As for my question(s)? What made you decide to start doing it(I'm glad you do but I was just curious!)?

Hoooo boi the Sketchy Saturday Origin Story: I suppose there's two versions.

The short version reads " Moving stress, deployment depression, and isolation VS. my utter determination to DO SOMETHING whilst trapped in my home " -- Sketchy Saturday was the result of that title fight, so I guess the fandom won in the end? XD

The long version, however... Well, buckle up, cause this is gonna be a ride.

It may surprise y'all to know that two years I was eyeballs-deep in the South Park fandom. The blog still exists; my mainblog, JustCallMeButtlord, built to interact with the audience of my fanfictions-- the New Kid Stories, called NKS for short [gonna be porting those to Ao3 soon, just gotta figure out what robo-reader I'm gonna use to make a quick n dirty podfic out of the series as well as help me hunt down typos my eyes galze over]. The first 'season' of stories had ended, 8 completed fics, and I was puttering about with a bonus holiday story that was several months out of season. Not that I CARED because I was on GUAM where seasons don't exist and my time blindness gets even worse becasue without seasons changing it feels like time never progrsses even after being on the island for three cocksucking years.

I don't hate Guam, I am just not built for constant heat. I am a snow creature; I like below-freezing temperatures so I can layer up in fuzzy, fluffy things and drink hot drinks and cuddle loved ones and/or furry animals. It's a lovely island, I adored my first week there... I just wasn't made to live there.

HIlariously, NKS started out of the stress of moving to Guam. Two years and 8 fics later, the place we were renting was no longer within our price range and my hubby and I were forced to move onto base. Under the leader whom I refuse to name, military pay was given a precentage raise... but it was ripped out of bonuses and OCONUS pay. OCONUS is what a military member is paid when they're stationed Outisde the CONtinental United States. This usually means overseas bases like Japan, but it also means Hawaii, aaaaaand... GUAM. So that percentage pay increase for the military at large meant belt-tightening for every service member abroad, and we were forced to move onto base.

In case y'all haven't noticed by now, I'm a raging socialist with some issued with authority. I DO NOT LIKE EXISTING ON BASE. I do not like existing in a place where the national anthem plays twice a day, every day, at 6 AM and then again whenever the hell sundown is that day. And there's an unspoken rule no one tells you that when it plays you're supposed to stop what you're doing, face the nearest set of speakers playing the song, and stare in that direction with your hand over your heart until its over. That, if you're driving, you have to put on your emergency flashers and pull over. No one tells you this. NO ONE TELLS YOU THIS.

And then, before we had secured a place on base but we had set a move out date for the rental house, the Pandemic happened. While we were between homes. The base is talking full lockdown, Guam authorities want to shut down the island but businesses are terrified of not getting the tourist season business, we don't even know if we'll be allowed to move on to base.

Surprise, I stopped writing for a while... but I picked Fallout 4 back up again. I had been forced into the series years earlier by a toxic relationship, but the game itself hadn't been bad-- just the way I'd been forced to play it by someone who was firmly not in my life anymore. When confronted with character creation, I wasn't sure whom I wanted to make... but decided to go back to an old character. A VERY old character, whom I hadn't thought of since I'd finished ME3 at least 4 years prior, and a character I first conceived of when I was 14-ish... which is now about 15 years ago.

Paige.

I've talked before about how well Paige's story maps onto Fo4, but this was before I knew that. I knew the opening, her losing her kid, and that fit with her-- but something clicked while I was playing and the part of my brain that likes to create started wandering off. Soon enough I've got a couple chapters of a ficlet that I'm TOTALLY just writing as a personal one-shot to de-stress, no way I'm publishing this, I don't wanna get distracted from NKS, I got a whole 'nother season to write! Who cares if no one is reading it anymore because South Park Fandom doesn't like continuous plots.... right?

I was burnt out as hell, the move was looming, the Pandemic was getting worse and everything was getting scarier.

Then the news came through that hubby would be deploying again.

He wasn't supposed to, but the Navy decided the safest place for their sailors was the middle of the ocean, so if you WERENT in quarantine you were going on the boat and you were living there. Didn't matter if your spouse would be alone, unpacking a whole home by themselves.

I had a friend on base. We hung out. I met with my DND group on weekends; we all lived on base now, so we could meet up in like five minutes... and then restrictions tightened. You could be fined up to 5 grand for gathering in groups greater than 5, even outdoors, and detained if suspected of going to a home that wasn't yours. I still met 2 of my friends once a week for walks; get outside, be active, talk to other humans, but besides that? I was locked up alone in a new house in a place that I did NOT like existing in.... with a fresh new hyperfixation developing.

I think it was about a week into the new house that I made the new blog. At first I tried to run it side by side with the South Park stuff, but it wasn't long before all my attention was here... aaaand it also wasn't long before I was confronted with a lot of my own despair; of lockdown, of isolation, of watching a broken system crumble and not being able to DO anything about it, and I started to kinda lose my shit. I fuss-- I can't leave things alone, and I couldn't leave this feeling alone; of being fully and entirely helpless and hopeless.

And then I sketched a thing for a friend, and it made them happy. They were having a rough time, too, and I put something together because I couldn't think of anything else. And it helped. It lifted them up, and it lifted me up, too. Someone else had recently reblogged one of those pallet challenges that floats around Tumblr, and I decided FUCK IT LET'S DO THIS THING AND CALL IT SKETCHY SATURDAY!

Little secret, the very first Sketchy Saturday request? Was me. I was so scared no one would noticed the event, I sent myself the very first request, back when the event still took anons. Soon as that first picture was up:

BANG, suddenly four more; some people off anon. I met people that day, talked to them after the very first Sketchy weekend was over, chatted about the games and characters and art and writing and just... felt human for the first time in a really long while.

I figured I'd hold on to Sketchy Saturday until the deployment was over-- once hubby was back, I'd decide whether I was keeping it or not... but he came back, and I was still super into it, and he was supportive, sooooo I kept going! And then we did Sketchy Secret Santa, and people loved it, and my volunteers are excited about being Sketchy Elves and Secret Helpers and just OH MY GOD I DID A THING GUYS. I DID A THING-- that was just me all December and January long lmafo.

AND JANUARY! Because AH HECK, WE MOVING AGAIN! Because hubby finally got orders, and OH MY GOD we're going back to WA... but it's still a move half-way around the globe, and I was SURE I'd have to shut down the event for a month while we got our shit in order and NOPE, because here come the volunteers from Sketchy Secret Santa, and they wanna fill in all month long! Like... I didn't even ask for that shit, guys. They offered it so the event wouldn't have to take a gap.

Jesus I'm getting teary just remembering it.

So yeah. Sketchy Saturday is here because I got really lonely and stressed out while Fallout 4 provided me with some... catharsis for my situation, and then a pandemic happened.

And then y'all happened, and I'm still here. :D

[dontasktheradiodemon]

I Love You (3/14/2021)

Buddy I don’t even need to summarize this thread, I can just tag it with tropes like it’s a fic, here watch me go: #angst #hurt/comfort #anguished declarations of love #tw depression #tw suicidal ideation

Immediate sequel to this thread but reading it is optional. Basically, it’s nearly impossible to spend very long in Hell without developing a guilt complex and fantasizing about whether it’d be better to stop being; Alastor and Telly @usedhearts open up to each other about theirs.

Frankly it’s a startling display of mutual emotional vulnerability and I’m proud of them both.

Sir Pentious

whenever he came back from that, what did he do

cause it said he went right to telly so 👀

Alastor

Initially? Probably just tracked him down in whatever he was currently doing and went “can I hold you”

Sorta, holding it together by a thread barely

Sir Pentious

telly probably noticed but just 'yes' and let him Hold Him no matter how grimy he was at the time

Alastor

And he’ll be content with that for about three minutes before that one thread starts fraying and he goes “... can you hold me”

Sir Pentious

thats all it takes for him to coil around alastor and hold him Tight

Alastor

Curls up tight in him and sobs on his shoulder.

Sir Pentious

telly just holds him TIGHTER

makes little comforting/soothing sounds

he doesnt know why he's upset but he will be there for him

Alastor

They’re just both gonna be grimy and that’s Fine.

Sir Pentious

so very grimy

they can take baths later

Alastor

When he’s finally capable of attempting coherent speech again the first thing he’s gonna get out is “I never, ever, ever want to leave you.”

Sir Pentious

telly just takes his face in one hand and cradles it so gently and just 'ok, alright, you don't have to.'

give him a kiss

forehead kiss bc he's probably snotty

Alastor

He’s definitely snotty. He’s full on ugly sobbing.

Sir Pentious

oh hes probably not smiling huh

i think thats probably the first time telly sees that

Alastor

NOPE, he lost that sometime while he was hiding in Telly’s shoulder.

First time Telly’s seen him with the mask off

Sir Pentious

god thats got him WORRIED and he just HUGS HIM AGAIN NICE AND TIGHT AND COILED

telly: ive got you. ive got you, im here, it's alright...

Alastor

He’s just gonna keep clinging as hard as he can, he got out One sentence and now he’s sobbing too hard to talk again.

It’s a lot of radio static and feedback noise

Sir Pentious

telly is just going to KEEP HOLDING HIM god himself couldnt pry this snake off this deer and would get bitten and injected with venom for trying

Alastor

He’ll gradually stop sobbing and the shaking will decrease to shivering

Sir Pentious

telly's just going to hold him through it all, pet his hair, massage at the base of his ears, everything he can do to soothe him

Alastor

Mumbles his gratitude and an apology for interrupting telly’s work

Sir Pentious

telly: no no don't apologize. i love you and i want to be here for you. my work will still be there. id much rather know that you're alright and have it be interrupted than you be upset or hurting and you not come to me for fear of interrupting me.

Alastor

Mumble mumble he could have handled it himself

Sir Pentious

telly: i don't _want_ you to have to handle it yourself. i'm here for you, alastor. i want you to know that you can come to me whenever you need me and i'll be here.

Alastor

Tries to say three different things but chokes on them all and just wheezes out another thanks.

Sir Pentious

he just gets a squeeze and a kiss to the nearest him surface

Alastor

He keeps holding on until he can get a small, tired smile fixed back on his face, and then he pulls back to say “Thanks” again.

Sir Pentious

he gets another forehead kiss and then telly gonna lead him to the bathroom and they are taking a BATH they are now both covered in grim AND snot

Alastor

You know, that’s fair. Bath time. Strips down to boxers, climbs in with Telly, and Clings again. ... and sorry about Telly’s clothes, he’ll clean them before the snot fossilizes

Sir Pentious

Those were his dirty work clothes, it's fine, the Eggs will wash them. But it is BATHTIME, and they are both getting a scrubbing. Moreso Telly than Alastor tho.

Alastor

... can Alastor get a scrubbing too

Sir Pentious

Absolutely!

A softer scrubbing than Telly gets

Alastor

He’s going all jelly-eyed again. It’s ok he’s fine.

Sir Pentious

He gets a nice wash cloth and a nice gently scented soap, and a boyfriend to hum to him as he kinda reverently cleans him.

Alastor

He gets self-conscious SO fast, he’s gonna hold his breath and slide under the water. It’s fine he’s fine

Sir Pentious

Telly just smiles and giggles bc that's cute, you're cute Alastor. Probably wraps his tail tip around Alastor's ankle to gently and playfully tug him thru the water.

Alastor

!!! Grabs Telly’s wrists to pull him down into the water.

Sir Pentious

Now they're both underwater!! Gonna tussle with a sea serpent in his natural element, huh, Alastor!! Play time, silly mode ACTIVATED

Alastor

GOOD he’s ready to wrestle. He’s trying not to laugh, he doesn’t want to inhale water.

Sir Pentious

Time to PLAY and WRASSLE!!

Tumbling and splashing and a big grinning snake!!

Alastor

Alastor’s got a surefire way to win this wrestling match! He’s gonna GRAPPLE THE SNAKE COMPLETELY. ... basically he’s just hugging him. Hi.

Sir Pentious

Grapple the snake and the snake grapples back. Now you're wrapped in a tail Alastor, and getting a mermaid kiss.

Alastor

Oh no, what shall he do. This definitely wasn’t his plan. Totally wasn’t. Not at all. Nope.

Sir Pentious

Kiss kiss fall in love, and he's rising up out of the water, because he wants that mouth OPEN for TONGUE.

Alastor

When they get out of the water, Alastor breaks the kiss—sorry, not going for tongue this time

Sir Pentious

Telly blinks and just brief pouting, but holds him close all the same. Kisses cheek instead.

Alastor

“Sorry. Just... tired.” Considering he sobbed about half the liquid out of his body earlier,

Sir Pentious

Wipes the wet hair off his forehead and then kisses it. "That's fine. Come on then, lets get out and dry off. Would you like a snack before bed?"

Alastor

“I need a drink. Not a drink-drink, just a drink. Fluids.”

Sir Pentious

"Of course. I'll get you some water, once we dry off."

Alastor

A nod. He’s still in a quiet mood.

Sir Pentious

Telly gonna carry him out of the bath and set him on a rug. Get towel and start drying him

Alastor gets dried first because Telly Must Care For Him.

Alastor

He puts up a token struggle against this but okay as long as he goes next.

Sir Pentious

He will. Alastor gets handed a Towel and offered his pick of head or tail.

Alastor

Head this time.

Sir Pentious

He Offers Himself on Alastor's drying alter.

Alastor

Alastor Shall Dry This Offering. And while he does he says hesitatingly, “You don’t have to ask if you don’t want to. But you can if you want.” Because it’s been weighing heavily on him as Really Fucking Weird that he just unloaded a hurricane on Telly’s nice jacket and at no point did Telly ask what that was all about

Sir Pentious

He considers it and shrugs a little. "That depends: Do you want to tell me, or would you rather not tonight?"

Alastor

He has to think about it a moment. “I think you should know.”

Sir Pentious

"Alright. Then tell me."

Alastor

Thinks about it; but then just keeps drying.

Sir Pentious

Telly just looks up at him and blinks. "Well?"

Alastor

Stops drying again. “You’re sure?” Listen, this is hard to share,

Sir Pentious

"Yes. If it had you that upset and you say that I _should_ know, then I would like to know."

Alastor

He shouldn’t have said that. He wraps the towel around Telly, hugs him, and sighs. Okay.

Sir Pentious

He's just going to lay there on the rug with Alastor, and the towel wrapped around him. And state with his big ole eyes.

Alastor

No... Not the big ole eyes... That makes this harder. He’s gotta look away. “I... don’t want to be... here.” YEAH ALASTOR GREAT START, SUPER CLEAR, RADIO HOST OF THE YEAR

Sir Pentious

A very confused furrowed brow. "Meaning what?"

Alastor

“In Hell. In—existence.” He swallows hard. “Hell wears you down. It—rubs your soul raw. It sandpapers you off a bit at a time. And I’m—I’m tired.”

Sir Pentious

A soft, concerned look and a hand cupping his face. "Oh, love...I can understand that feeling. I'm...I'm tired too. It is very tiring. Before I met Hel, I'd been close to giving up entirely. And then before I met you, I'd been ready to check myself into that hotel, just to see if it was possible. Something to change the tedium...."

Alastor

“I spend so much of my time going on walks. I don’t have anything else to do but go on walks.” He covers Telly’s hand with his own so he can press into it and shuts his eyes. “Almost every year, I wonder whether this is going to be the year that I decide to go for a walk when the angels come.”

Sir Pentious

And his heart clenches so tightly in his chest. "Don't." The word is soft and unbidden, desperate.

"There have been many a year where I've felt the same...where I thought it would be better to just end it. But I didn't. Mostly out of spite, but that can only get you so far. I like having love to live for better. Or exist for. Neither of us are living." A dry, bitter, short chuckle.

Alastor

His heart skips a beat at the word, so pronounced he flinches at the odd th-thump. Still not used to those. “I won’t. *I never want to leave you.*” He pulls Telly close. “And you’ll stay here?”

Sir Pentious

"I will." It's a promise, a swear, and he can't help but sit up to kiss him, at least once. "Don't leave me and I'll stay here, too."

Alastor

Alastor returns the kiss; it’s not a formal pact with magic and all, but it feels like one. “Then we’ll both stay.” He presses his forehead to Telly’s, eyes still shut. “It’s... heavy, though.”

Sir Pentious

"I know. Damn it, do I _know_. Humans like us, we weren't meant to be eternal. It _fucks_ with us, especially knowing that we've already died. But you have me now. And I have you. And if we share our loads, it won't seem as heavy." He may be crying, just a bit, and luckily only from the face eyes.

Alastor

“Knowing we’ve died—and knowing we aren’t *worth* eternity. I know I’m not. I know Hell is a punishment, but—sometimes it feels so *generous.*”

But he nods, slightly, with their heads still together. “But—I have you and you have me. And good God, am I glad I do.”

Sir Pentious

"I understand. I know exactly what you mean." Sighs and wraps his arms around him.

"I'm glad to have you too. I...I love you." A small kiss.

Alastor

"I love you, too." And it hurts like hellfire to say. It's the thing keeping him chained here, and it's also such a part of the reason why Hell hurts at all.

He presses his face to Telly's shoulder; this time, at least, his crying is quiet.

Sir Pentious

His breath catches and the tears come again, more freely. He can feel the eyes on his tail beginning to leak as well, can't control it in the moment. Telly's arms wrap more tightly around Alastor, and one of his hands moves up to stroke and card through his hair. He squeezes his eyes (on his face) shut again, he shakes with quiet sobs, holding Alastor to him as if everything depended on keeping him close.

Alastor

He holds Telly just as tightly, an arm around his back and an arm around his shoulders. Guilt twists in him at being the one to make Telly cry; but Alastor’s not crying hard, this time around he can support Telly through his sobbing.

Sir Pentious

They're not hard sobs, instead soft little things, hiccups more like, and along with them comes a soft chorus of "Love you, love you, love you." The amount of emotions that are roiling around inside of him, who knows if the crying is sadness, happiness, or something else. But there is an overabundance and he is letting it out.

Alastor

And Alastor will keep supporting him until it’s all out, the same way Telly did earlier. He briefly lowers one hand to Telly’s tail and gently tugs, encouraging him to coil around Alastor if he wants. He can deal with a dozen eyes crying on him.

Sir Pentious

The tail barely needs any encouragement, it is up and coiling in an instant, squeezing Alastor's lower half. Not hard enough to hurt, but definitely very tight. Telly doesn't take too long to calm, the tears stopping and his breathing evening out. Then he's just breathing deeply against Alastor, still holding him tight, but with less desperation.

Alastor

Alastor rubs Telly’s back as the tears slowly stop coming. Once Telly’s breathing has steadied, Alastor murmurs, “How do you feel?”

Sir Pentious

"I'm not sure. I'm happy, but tired, and sad that you felt so tired, too."

Alastor

“I don’t want you to be sad on my behalf.” He sighs quietly. “But if there’s happiness in there too...”

Sir Pentious

"I can't help it, I love you, and knowing that you hurt, it hurts me too. But that's not to say 'don't tell me when you're hurting' because I _want_ to know. So that I can help if I can. Or just hold you, if that's what you need. But I'm happy because you love me, and you're here with me, and we can help each other. And that is what's most important, more than anything." A soft sigh in return, and a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

Alastor

“That’s the worst part of this whole thing, isn’t it? We’ve got to carry each other’s pain on top of our own—and then we feel guilty for paining each other.” Alastor laughs ruefully. “But I’m here for you. For whatever damage control we can do.” He returns the kiss.

Sir Pentious

"It's quite something: you want your love to not hurt, but then your hurt hurts them, and they don't want you to hurt, but their hurt hurts you, and it's just another fucking ouroboros." He laughs, a bit of a hysterical tinge to it. "But I'll endure it. For you."

Alastor

“I’ve always thought there was something beautiful in the image of devouring oneself alive.” There wasn’t anything beautiful in *this,* but maybe he could find it. “I will, too. As long as I give you more happiness than unhappiness.”

Sir Pentious

Telly pulls back just a tad, enough to see Alastor's face. He cups it and kisses him, pressing their foreheads together again. "You already have."

Alastor

“Make sure I keep it up.” He cupped Telly’s face as well, running his thumbs over his cheeks. “We’ve only just gotten started, and there’s a long eternity ahead of us.”

Sir Pentious

"I will. I hold you to that." A bit of a smirk, and he's uncoiling, and grabbing the towel again. "I'm mostly dry but still a little damp. Let's finish up and get some water, _I'm_ thirsty now too."

Alastor

Huff. “*Right.* Of course.” He retrieves the towel he’d wrapped around Telly’s shoulders and helps, taking special care with the tear streaks around his many eyes. “We can try out another one of your herbal teas, see if this’ll be the one I like. I can whip up something or other to go with it.”

Sir Pentious

Telly smiles and finishes drying, before taking Alastor's hand. He kisses it and then wraps it around his arm to start slithering towards the kitchen. "Anything in particular you want to try tonight? Or should I just try and pick something that I think you'll perhaps like?"

Alastor

“Whatever you want. It still all tastes like fruity tea to me.” He laughs self-consciously. “I’ll get there.”

Sir Pentious

"Maybe something with some citrus? For a zest? I have a few mixes like that." They are now in the kitchen and Telly's going to get the kettle on and then dig around for the teas.

Alastor

“Sure, I could use some zest.” He starts rummaging around to see what he can make that goes with something citrusy. He’s got this place pretty well outfitted by now, if he says so himself.

Sir Pentious

"Alright, I have a green tea with orange, clove, and ginger. It's very tasty, has a good bite." He hummed as he got out the clear pot that he'd used before, and two cups.

Alastor

Green tea, what goes with green tea? He’s got no idea what goes with green tea. He can slap together some tea sandwiches that go with orange, clove, and ginger, though. “How does chicken sound?” And perhaps a more important question: “When did you last eat?”

Sir Pentious

Cue him pausing as his brain starts to work, trying to remember. "Ahhh...this morning? Breakfast, yes, I think that was when." Oh look how concentrated he is on pouring the water into the pot he is now.

Alastor

Maybe something a bit more substantial than a rinkydink tea sandwich, then. “Would you say that tea’s more clove-y or ginger-y?

Sir Pentious

He lifts the dried tea to his mouth to blelele and hums. "More clove-y."

Alastor

“Then let’s make that beef instead of chicken. Compliments it better without having to toss in a dozen other spices—and we don’t want to overpower the tea, do we...” He presumes they don’t want to, anyway. He checks the fridge to see what they’ve got on hand. Watch out, he’s switching into Cooking Mode.

Sir Pentious

Telly loves when he switches into cooking mode. He's just going to move the cups and the pot to the table and then settle in to watch.

Alastor

Okay, keep it simple—he grabbed some roast beef, onions, watercress, mayo, and some odds and ends to mix into the mayo that will *hopefully* compliment the tea, passing each ingredient one by one to his shadow to find a place for on the counter. Alastor swoops by Telly to give him a quick squeezing hug on his way to start prepping sandwiches—maybe a slightly longer hug. Maybe he’ll linger here a moment.

Sir Pentious

Oh! A hug, yes, a hug is good. Get that snake purring like an engine. He's very tempted to coil but he won't, he's getting hungry just watching.

Alastor

Okay, no, no getting emotional. Twice in one day is enough. He’s got fancy mayo to prepare. He lets go and hurries to the counter. “So. What’s... What were you working on earlier?” Don’t mind if his voice is a little rough, it’s fine.

Sir Pentious

"Oh, just more repairs. Installing new parts and making some delicate calibrations that the Eggs can't handle." He's watching Alastor and not even paying attention to the tea, that's gonna seep for a good while.

Alastor

“I ought to take an evening or two to help out with repairs.” He’s talking as much to himself as to Telly. “I keep coming over and *watching,* there’s no reason I can’t pick up a wrench or screwdriver and pitch in.”

Sir Pentious

"I'd love for you to help, I can get instruct you what to do just fine, I know how capable you are." A smile, and then he's re-noticing the tea and pouring a cup. Adds a little honey for sweetness and takes a satisfied sip.

Alastor

He passes over the first sandwich. “If it goes horribly with the tea: I’m sorry, forgive me, I did my best, it’s not my fault.”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughs. "I'm sure it will be fine, Alastor." He takes the sandwich and bites, and then takes a sip of tea, and then makes a very surprised and delighted noise. "Oh, that tastes wonderful."

Alastor

“Good!” He finishes his own, takes a bite—good—and pours some tea for himself to try—well, it still tastes like tea, but like, at least a tea that pairs well with the sandwich. “The good news is I think I’m starting to differentiate the taste of green tea from other teas.”

Sir Pentious

A smile. "Good! I'm glad. Maybe you're acquiring the taste for tea, at least a bit." A wink, and then he's back to eating. He finishes it far, far too fast-- Telly really does just inhale his food when propriety isn't a factor-- and then he's just sipping his tea. His tail slides over to curl around Alastor's calf.

Alastor

Alastor's taken two bites. He pauses before the third. "... Do you want another sandwich?"

Sir Pentious

Oh, shy snake look, and then a little nod. "Yes, please." And his tail retracts to let Alastor move.

Alastor

He waves his shadow over to do it and nudges Telly's tail with his foot. He's staying put.

Sir Pentious

Oh! Good, the tail is curling back around and holding him, and he smiles just so fond and bright. And another sip of tea.

Alastor

Alastor returns the smile—it still looks tired, but it’s just a little warmer when he meets Telly’s gaze. “I’m sorry I threw you off your schedule today.” Such as it was; Alastor was getting the distinct impression that Telly’s schedule was *however much I can get done today in as many hours as I can keep working.* “I’ll help you get back on track. And next time it’s your turn to have an emotional breakdown, all right?”

Sir Pentious

He laughs softly, and reaches over to take Alastor's hand, thumb stroking gently. "Alright, but you have to mop up after." A snicker.

Alastor

Alastor squeezed Telly’s hand. “It’s a deal.”

Sir Pentious

He hums and takes another sip of his tea, not letting go of Alastor's hand. "Is my other sandwich done?"

Alastor

Alastor glances over.

His shadow is just, sorta, standing there, awkwardly, holding a sandwich, watching this tender moment. Heyyy.

Alastor gestures. Go on, put the man’s sandwich down.

Sir Pentious

And he is devouring the sandwich, very happily. A contented snake.

Alastor

Well, for all Alastor’s flaws, at least he can help keep one snake fed—and that’s something, isn’t it? He continues eating his own sandwich. It’s a little awkward with one hand, but right now nothing could make him let go of Telly.