#when you have a loved one with Alzheimer's/dementia

[designernishiki]

oh baby I knew it from the fuckin moment the addc was introduced that there’s just no damn way they DIDNT have some legally sketchy shit going on with the alzheimers/dementia patients and unethical clinical trials. I feel so vindicated right now

[senipsenipsenip]

The Pines family sat at the table, quietly eating their breakfast, when Mabel slammed her hands on the table and shouted “KERMIT THE FROG”.

Dipper leapt forward to right his orange juice glass, gathering nearby napkins to sop up the puddle. “What?”

“Kermit the frog! He plays the banjo!”

“Yyyyes?”

Ford raised his hand. “Who’s Kermit the Frog?”

Stan snapped his head up from his plate. “Who’s Kermit the Frog? The Muppets, Pointdexter, you were around for The Muppet Show. They had a movie and everything.”

Ford frowned. “Muppets.”

“Yeah, they’re a riot! There’s this bear whose got some great puns and this pig who really know how to throw a punch. You’d love it, they’ve even got a scientist!”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of children’s television.”

“Children?!”

Dipper stirred his cereal. “I’m just impressed you remember all that. Yesterday you forgot you were married.”

“That’s because The Muppets are forever!” Mabel exclaimed.

“Wait, Stanley you were married?”

“Yep. Twice. Actually, unless I’m forgetting a divorce, I might still be married.”

“You didn’t,” Mabel chirped. “I’d have it on my Romance Chart if you did. You’ve missed a lot of anniversaries.”

“So has he!” Stan argued. “I’m not the only bad husband here!”

Ford spluttered. “Husband?”

Dipper frowned. “I think we’re getting a little too far away from why Mabel screamed Kermit the Frog and knocked my orange juice over.”

Mabel nodded. “Right, so, I was thinking of Mr. McGucket -

“Stanley you have a husband?“

“I was thinking of Mr. McGucket,” Mabel interrupted. “And how he could maybe help around the Shack. And he plays banjo! He could play banjo and people could put money in his lil banjo case like a real musician.”

At the mention of money, Stan leaned forward.

“But like, no one knows banjo music,” Mabel continued. “So I was like, maybe pop hits banjo? But then BOOM! Kermit the Frog! People love that frog. He could play the rainbow song. He’d be a hit!”

“Interesting,” Stan muttered. “Preying on people’s nostalgia to milk them for cash. I love it!”

Ford hummed. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea, Mabel. Activities like playing musical instruments have been proven to help patients with Alzheimers and dementia. Not that Fiddleford’s condition has the same root cause, but it may prove beneficial to memory recovery.”

“Eugh, don’t ruin this for me.”

“If playing an instrument helps with memory loss, maybe Grunkle Stan should learn an instrument,” Dipper suggested.

“Ooo!” Mabel squealed. “What about guitar? Or the piano? OH!” She clutched Stan’s arm with a fervor. “The triangle!”

Ford grimaced. “Maybe not that one.”

“Sorry, kid. I’m not exactly a music guy,” Stan shrugged out of Mabel’s grasp. “Let’s leave that to the professionals.”

Mabel frowned, but let the topic go.

Ford stood from the table. “Well, I happen to be visiting Fiddleford this afternoon. I can broach the topic and see what he thinks.”

Fiddleford, as it turns out, loved the idea. To the surprise of everyone, Fiddleford admitted that he had always wanted to play in a jugband when he was younger, but could never get over his stage fright enough to audition for the local band. Then he went off to college and then…everything else.

“Maybe I zapped away that scared bit enough to play!” he had cackled, knocking at the side of his head with his knuckles.

It was settled. “Fiddlin’ Fridays at the Mystery Shack with Fiddleford McGucket”. Dipper tried to point out the title didn’t make sense since it was a banjo, not a fiddle. Stan argued that “customers are suckers for alliteration”. The set up was just Fiddleford dragging an old rocking chair onto the porch and opening up his banjo case. Mabel had made a large glittery banner, but it was quickly absconded by Fiddleford’s raccoon.

“Tell your wife to give me back my banner!” Mabel had yelled, chasing the raccoon into the bushes.

“Ex-wife,” Fiddleford sighed sadly. “Apparently I was too emotionally available.”

Ford pulled at his hair. “Did everyone get married without telling me?”

“Excuse me?” A voice piped up. Fiddleford and Ford turned to see a little boy standing at the bottom of the porch. He was dressed in hiking clothes that were obviously new. In the distance, a young woman was unstrapping a baby from its seat in an SUV. Obviously city folk coming to the “wilderness” for the first time.

“Are you a real hillbilly?” The boy asked. Suddenly the door slammed open, Mr. Mystery striding through, eyepatch in place.

“Sure is!” Stan grinned. “Our very own genuine hillbilly just waiting to play you a tune! All you gotta do is put some of your mom’s money in his case there.”

The little boy’s eyes widened, turning around to race towards his mother.

“Stanley,” Ford admonished. “Fiddleford isn’t some show monkey to throw money at.”

“During work hours he is.” Stan turned to Fiddleford. “So, did Mabel teach you that song she was so excited about?”

Fiddleford sat frozen, watching the little boy yank at his mothers pants to try and get her attention, the baby beginning to fuss.

“Well…” Fiddleford cleared his throat. “Some good news and bad news fellas.”

Ford furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

“Good news is, my mind ain’t all broken.” Fiddleford hugged his banjo and turned to look up at Ford. “Bad news is I knows it ‘cause I still got stage fright.”

Stan scoffed. “Stage fright? C’mon it’s one kid and a couple o’ city slickers who would probably think you playing three wrong notes and spitting is ‘authentic’.”

“Stanley, be supportive.”

“I am! Look I’ve been at this job forever. All you gotta do is smile and if something goes wrong, you blame a ghost or something. They eat that up.”

Fiddleford shook his head. “But this is music. If’n I mess up music, ‘specially somethin’ they know. Music is real special to people, I can’t spoil it.”

Ford knelt down next to Fiddleford’s chair. “You don’t have to play that song Fiddleford. You don’t have to play at all.”

Fiddleford looked anxiously between Ford and the family. It seemed the little boy had finally gotten his mother’s attention and was excitedly pointing toward the porch.

“I…” Fiddleford shook his head. “I can’t let the little ‘uns down. ‘Specially not those ones.” As he said this, he gestured with his chin towards the other end of the porch where Dipper and Mabel sat bickering in lawn chairs. Mabel had returned from her raccoon chase covered in twigs and holding a surprisingly docile raccoon. Dipper was leaning away from the pair while trying to convince Mabel to stop feeding it gummy worms before it developed a taste for human food and tried breaking into the Shack.

Ford's gaze drifted to the twins. "Alright," he relented. "But you still don't have to play Mabel's song."

Fiddleford bowed his head.

"Yet!" Ford offered. "Not yet. She'll understand I'm sure."

Fiddleford frowned, looking unconvinced.

"Of course not yet!" Stan interjected. "You can't go playing the grand finale right out of the gate! You gotta warm 'em up first, keep 'em wanting more." Stan slapped his hand on Fiddleford's back. "If you give 'em what they want right away, they won't come back! Hold that one off until tomorrow or...uh...next week. Tease it or something."

Stan had started rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand as he spoke, a tell Ford was quick to recognize. It was the same one he did when he would "begrudgingly" let Mabel choose the movie for movie night or let Dipper rope him into another game of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Covering the most vulnerable part of his body while he let his emotions go soft.

Fiddleford seemed to perk up at Stan's words.

"Well," Fiddleford offered. "I do know some proper jugband music. Only, it don't have the same ring to it without a jug."

"We've got a jug!" Mabel cheered from the other side of the porch. It seemed the raccoon argument had reached enough of a truce that the twins were once again paying attention to the concert. "I used to keep pond water in it, it's in the kitchen!" She hopped off of her chair, lugging the racoon along with her like it was a rather expensive lap cat.

Dipper followed her. "Why did you have a jug of pond water?"

"Because, dummy, if I met a frog prince he would need something in the shack to remind him of home."

"Aren't you supposed to turn him into a person though?"

Whatever Mabel's retort was to be was cut off by the door swinging shut.

"There ya go," Stan grumbled. "You're getting your jug. Just in time too." He gestured toward the SUV. The mother was walking toward the Shack, one hand holding the baby, the other gripping tightly to the little boy's hand. The little boy gripped a few dollars in his fist, eyes alight with excitement.

Fiddleford looked frantic. "I can't sing and play the jug at the same time!" He gripped at his hat, pulling it down over his ears.

Ford sighed. "Then don't play the jug."

"It won't be the same!" Fiddleford shook his head. "A jugband without a jug that's...that's like a body with no heartbeat!"

The door swung open and Mabel emerged with an old ceramic jug.

"Here it is!" she exclaimed. "And it only sort of smells like pond scum."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Ford smiled gently. "It seems Fiddleford can't play both simultaneously."

Mabel frowned. "But it's a jugband. It's in the name!"

"How about we wait another day," Ford offered, patting Fiddleford awkwardly on the back. "Maybe someone in town will join you."

"Oh for Pete's sake, give it to me." Stan snatched the jug out Mabel's hand, sniffing at the top and giving a grimace.

Fiddleford stopped pulling at his hat, peeking out from under the brim. "You'll play?"

Stan grunted. "I'm not missing out on good money just because you have a case of the heebie jeebies. Besides, how hard can it be? It's like blowing on the top of a beer...er...I mean soda bottle."

Dipper crossed his arms. "Grunkle Stan, we know what beer is."

"Not from me you don't."

Mabel squealed. "It's happening! Grunkle Stan is learning an instrument!"

"It's not an instrument, Pumpkin. It's dishware."

"It's a scrapbookortunity!"

Mabel dashed into the house once more, leaving Dipper to grin at their Grunkle Stan.

The family was only a few yards away now. Fiddleford looked between Stan, Ford, and Dipper, and straightened up in his seat.

"Alright. Alright!" He clapped his hands together. "Stanley, you get down here with me, otherwise your feet are gonna get mighty sore from standing." He yanked at Stanley's hand until he sat beside the rocking chair with a grumble.

"Now when I tap my foot," Fiddleford instructed. "You blow on the jug. One short note at a time." Fiddleford tapped his foot in demonstration. "You got that?"

Stanley rolled his eyes. "Gee, I don't know. Seems pretty complicated for the guy without a PhD."

Mabel burst through the door, camera clutched in her hands. "Got it!"

"Excuse me?"

The little boy stood on the porch, approaching the banjo case with far more trepidation than before. Eyes darting between the assembly, he dropped a few dollars in the case.

"Is this enough to play a song?"

Fiddleford didn't bother looking at the money. He turned his gaze to Stanley, who shrugged and raised the jug to his lips.

Fiddleford grinned. "You know ‘Boodle Am Shake’?"

The little boy shook his head.

"Well you're about to!" And with that he was off.

By Fiddleford's standards, it wasn't a horribly complicated tune. Ford had heard him pluck out more complex riffs while waiting for the coffee pot in their dorm room to brew. But Fiddleford was smiling. His shoulders had dropped from around his ears, and he was nodding at the little boy to tap his feet along with him. Ford hid his smile behind his hands as he watched Stanley, eyes focused on Fiddleford's bare foot with as much attention as one would give to diffusing a bomb. Next to him, Mabel was snapping pictures of the pair. Dipper stood on his other side, wearing the small smile he tended to get when feeling introspective. Ford laid his hand on Dipper's shoulder, and Dipper leaned into the touch.

The mother was smiling at her little boy, her baby having finally stopped fussing. Maybe it wasn't the grand attraction Mabel had planned, but Ford thought it was worth far more than those few dollars anyway. Nothing could be worth more than his family standing around him, his closest friend singing again.

I know this song, it don't mean a doggone thing. Just do that good old Charleston swing. When you sing...

[sleepymccoy]

Per one single request (and that is all I need to carry on) here is an expansion of my tags on this post

What even is dementia?

Basically, it's an umbrella term. It describes a set of common symptoms, primarily worsening cognitive loss.

It's kind of like saying you have a cold. A cold is not a diagnosis, it's a grouping of different illnesses, like rhino virus (the most common), influenza, covid, the list goes on.

So, you can have dementia and Alzheimer's, but you wouldn't describe yourself as having both. You'd say "I have a type of dementia, Alzheimer's disease." In the same way you'd say, "I have a cold, I think it's just a rhino virus but it's a whopping my ass."

So why'd you pick Alzheimer's for that example?

Well, Alzheimer's disease is the most common type of dementia. It's where all the stereotypes you'd know about it come from. This is gonna be a text heavy post, so have a graph

University of Queensland

Before I talk about them in more detail though, what's a brain?

Your brain is made up of segments that control different specific bits of your body.

I always knew that if you hit the back of your head you might go blind, cos the eye and sight stuff happens at the back of the head. This is true.

I love a copyright warning on a photo. This post constitutes personal use

Alright! An important thing about dementia is that it moves through the brain steadily, going piece by piece. It doesn't do it all at once. So you have a starting spot, and a progressive loss of cognition as it kills your neurons. We figure out the dementia type by the symptoms, cos the brain is so defined

So if you hit the back of your head, the green occipital lobe in that picture, you mess with your sight. If you lose cognition in the back of your head your eyes are seeing fine, but your cognition loss makes you process that sight incorrectly. What you see can be completely different to what other people see. This is posterior cortical atrophy, and I bring it up because we know someone who died from it, this is Terry Pratchett's dementia subtype

It's not on the above graph cos it's quite a rare type

Where's Alzheimer's start?

In the kinda middle bit, the temporal lobe. Memory, ya know. And once it takes your memory it'll move on, but it's not always the same, so people living with Alzheimer's disease will developed varying symptoms as the disease progresses, which takes many years. Sometimes people get a diagnosis of mixed dementia cos it's doing a few lobes at once. Or they have another quite different type of dementia at the some time

I'm not gonna talk about Alzheimer's much cos if you know anything about how dementia goes, you probably know it from Alzheimer's disease.

Let's go through a few others

Vascular dementia is the next biggie!

It's a curious one, this is stroke related. So, when you get a stroke you often lose cognition in the affected area of the brain. That's not dementia, that's a stroke!

But if you get lots and lots of strokes, constantly, that's a type of dementia. Cos you're getting steadily cognitively worse

(this is a good time to remind people that dementia is not a diagnosis or even a type of illness like cancer, it is a descriptive umbrella of common symptoms. The underlying causes can be wildly different)

Vascular dementia doesn't follow our moves steadily though the brain model, cos the strokes can and do happen anywhere. It's rough

What am I talking about, they're all rough. It'll get rougher

Lewy bodies dementia

Often cross diagnosed with Parkinson's disease dementia, it just depends if you get the physical or cognitive symptoms first.

Lewy bodies doesn't tend to have any memory loss. I know, no one thinks that's possible! But this is a dementia without memory loss! Cognitive loss is not the same thing as memory loss, theres other cognitive thing you can lose. That's why they're different words I guess

Of course, in all dementias eventually everything goes. Cos it's progressive, it keeps progressing

Lewy bodies is more likely to cause physical impacts like shaking and shuffling gait. You'll also hallucinate, have delusion, sleep badly, and experience mood swings.

From a care perspective, the people living with Lewy bodies disease are vastly more likely to be violent than any other person living with dementia

Robin Williams had this one, but he never knew. They confirmed via autopsy. So I'm gonna add a fun gif of him cos he was lovely

There's a lot of other disease/illness induced dementias

Huntington's turns into dementia eventually. HIV too. If you have down syndrome you have an extra gene that will always turn into dementia if you live long enough (that's one of our few 100% rates). Alcohol related dementia. So on and so forth. There's a shit tonne of types

Anyway, thats enough about disease progression. I'll talk out a few more common misunderstandings and then post

Is dementia fatal?

Sure is. Most people will die of something else while they have dementia, cos age often comes with comorbidities, but if the only thing you have is Alzheimer's disease it will still kill you. It's taking out your brain cells, eventually you'll forget how to swallow and choke.

Honestly tho it's more likely you'll die 'by accident' due to doing something you didn't realise was dangerous, like going for a walk wearing nothing at night and developing hypothermia. That is a dementia-caused death, I think we can all see that, but it'll be written down as hypothermia. So reported deaths are lower than what's true

Alzheimer's takes 10 - 30 years for the neuron loss to be extreme enough to kill you outright. Lewy bodies is more like 5 - 7 years. There's a range and the ranges are poorly defined, quiz your GP if this ever comes up in your life

It's an old person disease, right?

Overwhelmingly yes. It's considered younger onset if you're less than 65. But from the graph above you can see that's a big enough proportion to get its own slot

But kids don't get it

Sure they do, childhood dementia is a whole thing. It's awful. People are born with it. Again, dementia isn't an illness type, it's a symptom grouping. Kids can be born with progressive, worsening cognitive loss. So while it's not Alzheimer's disease, it is dementia. It's like 1 in 3000 kids have some kind of childhood dementia, and most die before they reach adulthood.

It's untreatable

It is incurable (but they keep researching!) but we have treatments for the early stages. If you or a loved one is experiencing confusion and memory loss, get moving early and you might be able to delay the worsening of symptoms for a few years. It's not a cure, but it's better than nothing. And it's all we've got

How do you, op, know?

I have a master's degree in dementia, and I work in the field. Not naming my job cos I'm not speaking for them rn, I'm just presenting what I know personally

Gonna end the post there. Send me asks or questions or whatever, I'll try and answer. If I get enough asking the same thing I'll do another post expanding on that ❤️❤️❤️

[unboundprompts]

Thank you so much for your blog! It's so neatly organized, it's lovely to read. It takes a lot of commitment to do detail every post and still constantly update, and I'm very grateful for you <3

I was wondering if you could write tips+prompts for a paranoid character?

Thank you again 😺

Thank you for the kind words!! That means a lot :)

How to Write a Paranoid Character

-> sources: mind.org , betterhealth.vic.gov

Paranoia is the irrational and persistent feeling that people are "out to get you."

Things that Make Paranoia More Likely:

Having confusing or unsettling experiences or feelings that you can't easily explain.

If you are anxious or worried a lot or have low self-esteem and expect others to criticize or reject you.

If you tend to come to conclusions quickly, believe things very strongly, and don't easily change your mind.

If you are isolated.

If you have experienced trauma in the past.

Things that may Contribute to Paranoid Thoughts:

Life experiences. You are more likely to experience paranoid thoughts when you are in vulnerable, isolated or stressful situations that could lead to you feeling negative about yourself.

Experiences in your childhood may lead you to believe that the world is unsafe or make you mistrustful and suspicious of others. These experiences may also affect your self-esteem and the way you think as an adult.

If you experience anxiety, depression, or low self-esteem, you may be more likely to experience paranoid thoughts.

Paranoia is sometimes a symptom of certain physical illnesses such as Huntington's disease, Parkinson's disease, strokes, Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. Hearing loss can also trigger paranoid thoughts in some people.

Lack of sleep can trigger feelings of insecurity and even unsettling feelings and hallucinations. Fears and worries may develop late at night.

Recreational drugs may trigger paranoia, such as cocaine, cannabis, alcohol, ecstasy, LSD, and amphetamines. This may happen particularly if you're already feeling low, anxious or experiencing other mental health problems.

Research has suggested that genes may affect whether you are more likely to develop paranoia.

Symptoms of Paranoia:

being easily offended

finding it difficult to trust others

not coping with any type of criticism

assigning harmful meanings to other people's remarks

being always on the defensive

being hostile, aggressive, and argumentative

not being able to compromise

finding it difficult (or impossible) to "forgive and forget"

assuming that people are talking ill of them behind their back

being overly suspicious

not being able to confide in anyone

finding relationships difficult

considering the world to be a place of constant threat

feeling persecuted by the world at large

believing in unfounded conspiracy theories

Writing Prompts for a Paranoid Person

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Everyone was against him. No one liked to see him succeed and so they were doing everything in their power to stop him.

People were talking about her behind her back. They would whisper as she walked by, and their laughter would echo in her ears as she got further from them.

"You never believe me!" They wailed, pointing an accusing finger at their friend. "You wouldn't get it! You don't know what it's like to be hated by everyone!"

He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and wide awake. It was a nightly routine, at this point. He could never bring himself to close his eyes. There were too many things going on his head, too many things that only made him dread when morning came.

Everything was about to go so wrong so fast, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The impending doom beat down on her shoulders, reminding her that she was not okay. She was not safe.

They couldn't stop fidgeting with their hands. It used to offer some form of comfort, but not anymore. How could it when the whole world is against you?

They were looking at him. They were watching his every move. He was being tracked. Studied. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Something he wasn't prepared for. What could he do to be prepared?

"You think I'm crazy, but I'm not! You'll see."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[loganwritesprobably]

Hello☺️,

I have a combo for you.

Charakter: Benn Beckmann x (shy)Fem Reader

Setting: Hurt/comfort

Prompt: p: "Can you stay here with me tonight?" and/or d: "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Maybe something like sleepless nights with nightmares?

But I'll leave that to you

Thank you

It's a classic, but there's nothing wrong with classics! A nice easy trope with a loveable man. Hope you enjoy love!

Content/Warnings: Benn/F!Reader, Shy!Reader, hurt/comfort, nightmares, fluff, pining, pre-slash, past parental death, heavily implied the deceased parent had dementia/alzheimers

You were an interesting character on the crew. The only woman, and a strikingly different personality. Everyone on the ship was self-assured, loud mouthed, a party-goer – except you. You were more shy, liked to keep to yourself, would sooner remain on the edges of a party to observe or even stay home. But, the thing that'd gotten you a place on the crew was that just like them you were an incredible fighter. You were a swordswoman, and a well trained one, and in battle all of your reserved personality disappeared to be replaced with that of a confident fighter, knowing that she'd make all the correct moves at the right moment and flawlessly survive.

After a fight was over, you'd return to your usual self, and it was a difference that the crew used to marvel at but was now just normal. You'd leave and wash up, rejoining them as the shy girl they knew and loved. And if you wished a particular crew member loved you in a slightly different way then that was your business. Well, and the business of your best friend on board Limejuice, but that was neither here nor there.

You were a good fighter because your upbringing had been, well, interesting to use a kind word. Your father had been an unusual character, who'd insisted on keeping you trained. At first, it had been to protect yourself but as he grew older the reason became to protect him. He'd become violent as he aged and forgot you, and it hurt you that you couldn't protect him like he'd wanted - there was no way to protect him from himself. He died after a few years of slowly losing his memories and his sense of self, and you'd left for the sea after that.

Sometimes you thought of your father, even after all these years, and it saddened you to know that there was nothing you could've done for him. You'd raise a glass to him while the crew cheered and laughed, and you'd drink in his name. But sometimes, you remembered him in your dreams.

For the most part the dreams were positive, of times past, when you were a young girl getting dirty while climbing trees or digging in the dirt for treasure and he would come and scoop you up in his arms to take you to dinner. He'd cherished you, like your mother would've wanted. Every now and then however, you'd dream of the later parts of his life, when he began to forget and it hurt like hell.

On this particular night, you'd accidentally fallen asleep at the edge of the deck while the crew played cards late into the night, with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and your head in your arms on a table. It wasn't the most comfortable but you'd had a long few days.

Your dreams were not kind. You dreamt of your father, and at first it had been nice. You were a little girl again, playing hopscotch outside the house with the boy from down the street. Then your father emerged from the house confused and suddenly you aged fifteen years, the way you did in dreams, and you were an adult managing your father's sickness alone. He was angry, accusing you of trying to kill him with the meal you'd made, and he leapt at you, desperately trying to claw at your skin to kill you before you killed him.

You woke with a start to a hand on your shoulder and concerned eyes looking down at you. You gulped down air desperately, trying to steady yourself and slow your rapidly beating heart. Benn was there though, watching over you while you calmed, waiting for you to be ready to speak. "You okay?" He asked softly a few minutes later, when you were breathing normally and the pulse he could feel under his fingertips had slowed. "Bad dream. I'm alright." You assured him with a quick nod. He took a step back and offered you his arm with a charming smile. "Let me escort you to your room?" He offered, and you could only laugh softly and agree.

Benn led you to your room, both of you content with the silence. You didn't need to speak. He followed you into your room and made sure that you got into bed okay, his own anxiety pooling in his stomach. He worried about you, sometimes. "I'll still be here when you wake up, just across the hall. You can come find me if you need me." He offered, hand on the doorknob, already in the doorframe ready to leave. You hesitated for a moment, panic flooding through you again - you weren't sure you could be alone. "Wait-" You said quickly, sitting bolt upright just before the door could close. Benn reopened the door all the way, concern having returned to his expression.

"Sorry I just- I don't think I can be alone right now. Could you.. stay here tonight, maybe?" You asked nervously, voice so soft it could barely be heard. But Benn heard your request as if you'd yelled it, because he heard everything that you said, never needing you to repeat yourself. He nodded and re-entered the room, closing the door behind himself. "Move over then." Benn said with an easy smile, and when you did, he slipped into the bed behind you, easily pulling the blanket over himself. He didn't hold you because ultimately you were just friends still. But, when you fell asleep and shifted to lay on his chest, Benn kept himself awake for just a little while to enjoy the taste of what it would be like if you were his.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[riveroftales]

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

sᴀɴᴇᴍɪ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: Pretend that people don’t die after 25 when they get the demon slayer mark please🙏🙏

The bones in Sanemi’s once strong body grew weaker, his arms shaking slightly as he stood up and stretched. With time and less stress, the world around him seemed to thrive more.

He never had to save anyone else again after the defeat of Muzan, and he smiled to himself knowing his family was watching over him, protecting him in his decreasing lifespan.

“Thinking about something?” You smiled, going up to him with a tray of ohagi.

Sanemi turned as his gaze softened.

“No, no. Nothing.” He reached over to grab one of the ohagis. “You should rest, you know. I don’t think it’s good for you to work so much at our age..”

The softest laugh blessed his ears. “It’s okay, keeps me young anyways.” Your gaze fell to his clothes. “Oh? Did you buy a new haori?”

“I did, in fact.” Sanemi proudly said, snaking an arm around you. “Does it look familiar to you?”

“Looks exactly like the one I wear.”

“Exactly.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “We match.”

You laughed again, playfully pulling away. “You’re gonna make me drop the ohagi!” You playfully scolded, setting the tray down and sat on the porch, next to your husband.

Sanemi sat back down and finished the ohagi in his hand, a sigh leaving his lips.

Peaceful silence embraced you two before you gently placed the tray on your husband’s lap, shuffling closer before placing your head on his shoulder.

Despite your age, both of you kept each other young. The effort you put in your relationship never strained any of you.

The sun set over the horizon as butterflies took it as a cue to land on the flowers your husband planted in the garden, resting for only a few mere seconds before flying away again.

He looked at you, taking in your features. Your once smooth skin had a few light wrinkles all over it with visible smile lines, and your dark hair you used to love so much had grown a few white chunks. He reached over and gently stroked your head.

“I heard they came out with a new type of hair colour… do you want me to go buy it tomorrow for you?”

“No..” You responded softly. “I like my hair. I want to keep its health and don’t want to risk any damage. And on top of that..” Looking up at him, you flashed him one of your sweetest smiles. “We match.”

A small scoff left Sanemi before he also broke out into a smile. “You know I was born this way, right? Yours is a sign you’re getting old.”

“Then you’ve been old since you’re a kid. Also I genuinely like my hair if I don’t love it.”

“But you used to hate having a single grey streak…?”

“I did.” You leaned in. “But that was when I was younger. Stress from family and friends. You though, Darling, never gave me any.. I like them now because to me, they represent time, you know?” A small chuckle left you. “God, I sound so sappy..”

His hand cupped your cheek. “No. Never. Please continue.”

Sanemi was still dangerously good looking despite his age. He still made your poor, weak heart throb hard.

“It’s like time.. time I’ve spent with you.. a lifetime I stayed by your side.. I love it because even if I have dementia or alzheimers, anything which could affect my memory, I know I have my hair to remind me that I’ve spent a life with you…”

“Would you really like that?”

“I do love it so much. It feels like home with you. I wouldn’t mind spending eternity with you.”

“I think we’d still age. Ya wanna stay with me even if we’re all wrinkly, our skin’s thin, and we’re on death’s doorstep?”

“Would you hold me?”

“Of course.”

“Then yeah, that’s perfect.”

[koimethehorizon]

Adventure Time and Fionna and Cake Theory: The Victimhood of Simon + How the Series Might End

Prerequisite Watching for this Theory:

Adventure Time: Temple of Mars, Betty, Come Along With Me, Broke His Crown, I Remember You, Holly Jolly Secrets Part II

Gonna start this loaded theory with a bit of a hot take. I’ve never liked how Simon and Betty’s stories concluded in Come Along With Me.

For Simon, I’ve always had trouble considering Simon and the Ice King as the same person. Holly Jolly Secrets and I Remember You, the pinnacle of depicting the dichotomy of the two characters is built on us seeing Simon as suffering irreversible memory loss and how his loved ones can grow to accept that. The context is most apt when viewed as a metaphor for dementia, Alzheimer’s, or simply old age.

The scenes in which Ice King reacts so superfluously to characters desperately wishing for his old self to return are striking because of the cruel finality of his condition. Alternatively, the ones in which his loved ones hang around with him despite his condition are sweet in their own right.

One of my favorite Ice King scenes is in Broke His Crown where Marceline invites her girlfriend to meet her surrogate father.

Bubblegum: What's this?

Ice King: It's a present, to bribe you for coming over!

Marceline: You don't have to bribe us silly, we're here because we WANT to hang out with you.

Ice King: No one has ever said that to me before.

*snatches present*

Ice King: You didn't say no takebacks.

There was a real poignancy to depicting an old man with memory-loss slowly having people come to accept him and realize that he’s still a swell guy to hang around. It may be depressing to see this good person who was once so unconditionally caring into a buffoon who could forget your name so easily and turn on you in the flip of a coin.

But even he deserved love from others. And in time, as a result of that love, he did improve.

Which is why, even in Fionna and Cake, I find myself still disturbed seeing Simon in his normal state and Ice King completely erased from Ooo. It kills me that Betty and in extension, the show itself could not accept Ice King as he was and felt that his best course was to undo it all.

All of his experiences for 1000+ years all of a sudden no longer matter, and the acceptance of his peers no longer mattered as well. He's just back to who he used to be in a world where everything he's known is gone.

Happily ever after

Even worse, however, is remembering the wish that allowed Simon to be cured. The person who sacrificed her individuality to get that good person back, because she couldn’t accept reality as it was.

And I’m going to put a second hot take. A spicy one. Simon needs to take the fault in Betty's fate and Fionna and Cake (the show not the characters) seems aware of this.

Throughout Adventure Time, Simon Petrikov was never developed as a character. As far as the audience and the characters within Adventure Time knew, the only traits about Simon that mattered were: that he was intelligent, he was a kind man, and he loved Betty.

This wouldn’t really be a compelling character on its own, but when juxtaposed with the Ice King it’s a tragedy that he lost these traits. The compelling part of Simon was his victimhood to the ice crown and not really him as a person.

It’s why Obsidian’s version of Simon feels somewhat empty, he’s back to his intelligent, kind self but there’s no real hints to how he’s mentally adjusting other than that brief glimpse in Ice King’s robes again.

And he looks really weird in this special too. Color me surprised when Simon Petrikov reads out the problems I've had for years about his ending while also making Simon into his own person. In many ways it just completely redos what we see of him in Obsidian.

He's still a kind man but even he can't handle being so maladjusted to a world so beyond his time. He's still intelligent but his passions aren't reciprocated, and that seems to have always been the case even in the past. Rather than a guy who doesn't take shit from guys like Marceline's ex or a first responder to his daughter's problems, he's a normal guy unable to handle the threats of Ooo's world even after 12 years of living in it. Rather than singing to large communities in bliss, he's a lonely alcoholic who can't even relate to his fellow humans anymore. He loves his adopted daughter but there are even some days he can't muster the courage to be honest with her. And most importantly, he doesn't seem to know how to live beyond his curse or his loneliness.

His mutual obsession with Betty is the only character trait of his that's ever had some distinct flaw and with this new show, the writers must have finally found a way to tackle the subject further. Betty is ultimately a greater victim than Simon. She ends up in a far worse fate than Simon has ever been in. Perhaps more disturbingly, she willingly chose to strip herself of her individuality.

Fionna and Cake brings a contradiction to light about Simon and Betty’s seemingly perfect relationship. Simon and Betty's love is real and they do make each other happy. But there does exist a co-dependency that has worsened throughout the series as a result of their insecurity of letting a bad memory conclude their relationship. Betty's patterns are pretty clear throughout her tenure as Magic Woman but not too much with Simon. Not until now.

In Jerry, Simon stops Betty from pursuing her dreams because he didn’t want her goodbye to be his last memory with her.

In Betty, Simon rewrites history and inadvertently summons her to Ooo because he didn’t want Betty’s look of contempt to be his last memory of her.

And through all of Fionna and Cake, Simon has turned into a suicidal man willing to resummon GOLBetty regardless of the reasons she can’t see him again. All because he didn’t want her sacrifice to be his last memory of her. Despite the fact that Betty’s final wish was to keep Simon safe.

There's also this uneven power dynamic between the two. Simon was far more accomplished as a professor with PhDs even if no one took him seriously. Betty was just a student offering some help, knowing she wouldn't take any credit for helping.

I’ll preface that Betty is a consenting adult in the relationship and made many self-determined rash choices that Simon would never approve of with full context. We’ve enough scenes to show that Simon actively refuses Betty’s help if it means endangering her.

However, Simon’s perception of Betty and his own inadequacy did influence her personality for the worse. Fionna questions Simon on two occasions about how strange it was for “someone she just met to drop everything to go with you”. Even within the flashbacks Betty verbally describes her internal conflict between her individuality vs. her infatuation with Simon and the guy never picks up on it.

Whether he’s aware of it or not, Simon always ends up becoming the center of attention during Betty’s greatest life-changing events because he’s always suffering in some way. And sadly in-character, Betty always prioritizes him first because of how sorry she feels for him.

Simon: Just hold my hand to your face, this will be my… last sensation.

Betty: Don’t be a wimp, Simon!

I don’t want to be too hard on Simon, his suffering is cosmologically depressing. An undeniable tragedy that no one deserves to be alone on. It would be unfair to say he’s being dramatic about something most if not any human would ever go through. He’s not a leech for desiring help, especially from his significant other.

But I do think it’s important to point out that he does have a major flaw in not reflecting on the consequences of Betty’s choices.

Fionna: Damn, that’s romantic. So, you got on the bus with her?

Simon: Yup. Uh what? No. No. Why would I-

This is the reason this post exists. This is the show explicitly telling us that Simon has never really thought about what Betty lost because he thinks his love was greater than the passion Betty once had.

Let's go back to Betty once again for what is honestly the most justifiable takedown you could make of Simon's character prior to the miniseries.

As stated earlier, Simon opens a portal to ask for Betty's forgiveness with a few seconds on the clock. And in that time, he essentially just unloads a giant drama bomb, trauma dump of his suffering leading Betty to ask what she can even do without him. And if the plan went as it was, Simon would've just left her a hundred questions that she'd never have answered for the rest of her life.

Simon: Just know that I love you and I forgive you for leaving me. Author's Note: I dunno, isn't there something a bit off about how he worded this?

Now Simon didn't ask for Betty to jump into the portal, but he certainly was asking for it subconsciously. How else would he have expected a person who loves him dearly to act after this?

Taking any measures necessary and finding a way back together obviously. That's what he's doing too!

And reiterating again, this is the reason why Betty goes on her ego-suicidal quest. This is Simon's greatest mistake, his greatest moral failing as a person and he doesn't seem aware of this.

He’s not wrong that Betty lived happily with him. In spite of losing her dreams, Betty and Simon did love each other unconditionally. But he’s missing the bigger picture about how he could’ve been self-centered in deciding Betty’s fate for himself.

And maybe to stretch somewhat, I think even the quest to become Ice King again is somewhat motivated by his inability to live as anything more than a victim. Some of it is because the citizens of Ooo were being a bit inconsiderate about how much they liked Ice King yes, but Simon should be perfectly aware that Marceline, Betty, and now Fionna would be extremely concerned about him for doing this. Yet, he doesn’t really consider their feelings too much on the matter. He’s too used to the suffering.

Please have one scene with Marceline, I'd be sad if we don't get to see at least one.

This leads me to how I believe Fionna and Cake may rewrite Simon’s ending.

The key is in the episode Temple of Mars.

Upon rewatching the episode, I’m convinced that the Adventure Time cast had a greater plan with the Betty and Simon arc that just never came to be due to production constraints. A lot of Betty’s history and the deconstruction of her relationship with Simon in Jerry are surprisingly details that have already been told.

I thought it was an animation error that Betty’s glasses were different in Jerry but it turns out the continuity director is just that good.

The trip in six months, Simon stopping her, and the realization that Simon superseded her identity. Seeking independence from Simon is the lesson that Normal Man was trying failed to teach her.

Betty: I’ve spent so much time dedicated on Simon that I’m not even sure if there’s any “me” left anymore.

But the most telling detail is how Betty passes Normal Man’s test.

Finn: Even if you are a lost cause, she is not!

Betty: No, Finn’s right. You’ll thank me for this later past Betty.

In an alternate pocket reality, she changes her trip to the day before, preventing Simon from stopping her. And I think Simon will have to change fate once again to do the same.

If Simon comes to realize that he was the one who set Betty to her terrible fate, that all this time his rose-colored lens of their relationship had been detrimental then he could give her identity back. But it can’t be as simple as changing the moment Betty turns into GOLB or Magic Woman or even bringing her through the portal in Betty.

He needs to let Betty go on the bus. Alone.

It’s the only way for Betty to have her life back. If not for his Betty, maybe at least to save one in the multiverse doomed to the same fate.

They both need to cherish their time on the Enchiridion trip back when it wasn’t too late for Betty to go on the trip. Back when they were both equals and not tied to Simon’s needs.

Jerry is absolutely setting up something big with Simon and Betty’s relationship for next week and now that we’re going to the GOLB dimension, we’ll see how he remembers these moments again.

Personally, as someone who has been skeptical about Simon's peace for years, Fionna and Cake's second episode was like a sigh of relief. Simon hasn't found his ending yet, and my hope is that this epilogue will help me see the man happy without having to relive Betty's sacrifice for the rest of his life. Just like the rest of Adventure Time, it'll have to end with him cherishing the time he had with Betty regardless of the inevitability of losing that relationship.

PS. Isn’t quite strange that at one point in time, Simon sought after magic objects that ostracized him from the normal world and now, he lives in a house full of 1980s-1990s objects that ostracized him from the magical world? Maybe he was never really satisfied with where he was in the present.

PSS. I really wanted to write something on Fionna for the Ep 3-6 releases, and I still have the idea, but I couldn’t make it coherent due to how much my brain overthinks everything to the point of cognitive collapse. If there’s enough interest, I’ll go back to write it again.

[paltrymarshmallow]

Happy Glorious 25th of May! "Truth, Justice, Freedom, Reasonably-Priced Love and a Hard-Boiled Egg!"

Over the past few years, the Glorious 25th has taken on a very personal note with my dad's diagnosis of Early Onset Alzheimers, the same as our lovely Sir Terry Pratchett. This year has been particularly hard as my dad's Alzheimers has worsened, with significant losses in functionality, horrible periods of intense paranoia, and a challenging move to an adult family home.

In the heart-numbingly difficult times, it is words from Night Watch that resonate the most: "We are here, and this is now." Or, in less exalted copperspeak, "you have to do the job that is in front of you."

When you feel like the world you're in is uncertain, and you have no idea of your footing and no surety that things will ever be good again; when that terror starts rising, you do the job that's in front of you.

GNU Terry Pratchett, and bless you for all the wisdom and wit that you gave. I'll never know how to thank you enough for everything ❤️

Here's to hoping that Alzheimers research pays off and no one has to go through these experiences ever again.

[galaxiasgreen]

About Me

Hello everyone! My name is Green (she/her), I'm a Hufflepuff with a gremlin streak, and my hobbies include reading, writing, and collecting more books than I can read.

I primarily write humour, angst, fluff, and a bit of spice. At the moment all my work is Canon Character/ Reader OCs, who never have a name (only a nickname, no Y/N). I'm slowly working on porting everything over to tumblr, but you can check out the links to AO3 and Wattpad in the meantime.

As a quick note, I never copy game dialogue. Besides some iconic lines, all writing is original and entirely my own.

Tags & Info

My AO3 account and my Wattpad account have the most up-to-date archives of my work.

My writing (for all my fics and oneshots)

My oneshots (for all my oneshots not listed here)

My stuff (for all my fics, oneshots, game photos and posts)

Gibby | Prim | Missy | the bar girl (for specific characters)

ACVASverse (for all writing and posts relating to the stories set within the A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet universe)

Multi-Chapter Fics

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

In which, against the wishes of his staunchly pure-blood supremacist family, Ominis Gaunt befriends you, a naive Muggle-born Hufflepuff, and his life inexplicably changes. Or, what happens when a pure-blood from an anti-Muggle family falls in love with a Muggle-born?

[Ominis/Reader (Gibby), T-Rated, 127k, complete] A retelling-turned-original-story from Ominis’ POV that expands his role in the main questlines and beyond. Parallels his life story with relevant flashbacks.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, pure-blood culture, canon rewrite, book!canon compliant.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, comas, trauma, blood/injury, grief/death, torture, magical prejudice/ racism.

[Tumblr masterlist] [Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🍺🖤This Hell We Create

The freckled stranger has been visiting your pub for three months now, drinking to forget the worst times. You might be the person he needs to remember the best.

[Sebastian/Reader (the bar girl), E-rated, 19k, ongoing] A short series following a Muggle barmaid and the freckled stranger who visits her pub every night. Trigger warnings vary per chapter. Completely unrelated to the ACVASverse.

Tropes: angst/ drama/ romance, eventual smut, wizard x Muggle, different worlds, dark secret, Magic from a Muggle POV, oblivious to magic.

Trigger warnings: alcoholism, coarse language, non-explicit sexual assault, dementia/ Alzheimer's disease, blood/ injury, gendered language, explicit smut.

[Tumblr masterlist] [Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🐦‍🔥🍰Stay With Me

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring. But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

[Garreth/Reader (Prim), T-rated, 111k, ongoing] A mystery-romcom following sixth-year Garreth Weasley when he is foisted a frosty and lonesome tutor hiding secrets of her own. Can be read entirely independently from ACVAS but does reference some of the events.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, blood/injury.

[Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🥀🔮Shelter of Our Night

After being released from Azkaban for the murder of his uncle four years ago, Sebastian Sallow finally sees his chance to start anew. But when ancient magic starts to corrupt you, the Hero of Hogwarts and his long-time crush, Sebastian and you must face the vengeful spirit of Isidora Morganach, discovering the hard way that the shadows of one’s past never really leave you. Most of the time, in fact… they bite back.

[Sebastian/Reader (Missy), M-Rated, 48k, ongoing] A sequel to the game storyline where Sebastian went to Azkaban and the MC absorbed the Repository – with a piece of Isidora Morganach's soul. Directly follows the events of ACVAS but can be read separately.

Tropes: angst/ drama/ romance, slow burn, mutual pining, lovers in denial, Couples Who Kill Together..., second chance, childhood friends-to-lovers, redemption, dark secret.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, trauma, grief/death, murder, blood/injury, non-explicit smut.

[AO3 link, Wattpad link]

🦡✨Troublesome and Unladylike

In which, your life changes twice in quick succession: the first, when you discover you have magic, and the second, when you meet an enigmatic blind Slytherin.

[Ominis/Reader (Gibby), T-rated, 45k, complete] ACVAS from the Reader's perspective, with all original content and much lighter tone. Recommended after ACVAS, however you can read it separately.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, hijinks and shenanigans, Muggle culture, Magic from a Muggle POV, canon rewrite.

Trigger warnings: coarse language, familial abuse, comas, trauma, torture, magical prejudice/ racism.

[Tumblr link, AO3 link, Wattpad link]

Commissioned Art

👗❤️‍🔥 Garreth & Prim in Potions/ at the Valentine's Ball for Stay with Me [Lyworth]

💥⚡ Sebastian, Missy and Isidora Fight for Shelter of Our Night [yoshitsuno]

🖤🍺 Sebastian at the bar from this hell we create [FlamboyantJelly]

Thanks for checking out my work. You can support me by reblogging and/ or commenting, which are hugely appreciated 💚

[Last Update November 2024] Banner and divider credits: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-]

[travelingthief]

Mnemosyne Offerings and Devotional Acts

Offerings

Books/stories 

History books, philosophy books, and language learning books

Writing utensils

Quill/ink

Scrolls

Obituaries

Mementos from loved ones

Mementos from times you want to remember

Photos

Scrapbooks

Home videos

School work

Planners

Depictions of the Muses

Brain imagery

Lightbulb imagery

Lamp of Knowledge imagery

Candles

Journals

Poems

Clocks/watches

Hourglasses

Newspapers

Water (She has a “pool of memory” in the Underworld)

Number 9

Letters

Art

Musical instruments

Music sheets

Elephants (an elephant never forgets!)

Forget-me-not flowers

Puzzles

Puzzle books 

Devotional Acts

Tell oral stories

Study 

Keep good school notes

Memorize speeches or other materials

Make flashcards

Play games that improve memory

Make and use mnemonic devices

Journal

Plan your days

Make to-do lists

Public speaking

Keep deceased loved ones’ memory alive

Volunteer with dementia patients

Learn about dementia and Alzheimer's 

Start a “remember when” conversation

Be patient with forgetful people

Make art

Write poetry

Ask elders their life stories

Remember/honor your ancestors

Learn about the muses

Maintain a hobby - it helps your brain!

Take vitamins that improve brain function

Challenge your brain

Get good sleep

Exercise

Meditate

Eat brain-healthy foods

Set reminders

Learn about memory in psychology

Reflect and journal about De ja vu moments

Past life work

Document any memories you have

Go without your GPS - try to remember how to get places without help!

[musette22]

Hey Minnie! Have we ever seen Sebastian’s father (biological or stepfather)? I need visuals. I’ve heard different stories about his biodad. In both stories his biodad and Georgeta got divorced when Seb was two. But in one he died a year after that, because he helped people cross the border in communist Romania? And in another he survives and he also moves to the US and now he and Seb are reunited? I also heard that Seb’s stepdad suffers (suffered?) from dementia. And if that’s true, I want to hug him even more, dementia is a terrible illness. I remember not getting recognized by a person close to me, it’s a terrible experience for all involved. Also I want to end on a good note, Seb definitely got his beauty from his mother. Georgeta is stunning!

Hi nonnie! Ahh, I'm very sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Sebastian's biological dad unfortunately passed away a couple of years ago 😔 He's mentioned it in some interviews over the last year or so. His step dad, who did indeed suffer from Alzheimer's, also passed away quite a few years ago. I can't imagine how difficult that process must've been for Sebastian and his close family, and I'm so sorry to hear you've been impacted by it too, lovely 😔❤️ Sending you much love.

As far as I know, after his parents' divorce, Sebastian's dad left Romania first (and yeah, Sebastian did mention in an interview recently that his dad was involved in the resistance and was something of a hero for it), and then I think his mom decided to leave Romania with Sebastian not long after that as well? I may be wrong though, but that's what I think he said about it. I believe Seb's father did move to the USA at some point too (or perhaps right away), and he and Seb had a good relationship towards the end of his dad's life, at least. There are some pictures of Sebastian's biological dad floating around online, but I'm hesitant to link them since he didn't share them himself and they were basically found and shared by people without permission. However, if you google 'Sebastian Stan biological father', the first pic that pops up for me is one of them together!

And yes, Sebastian is as beautiful as his mom, definitely! Great genes right there 🥰

[lifedeathtimespace]

"You stole the best years of my life/I'll give them back"

Hits so damn hard when you think about it. It speaks of a lifetime of highs and lows, by each other's sides for better and indeed for worse. And given that the song is about alzheimer's/dementia, it hurts just a little bit more. As her memories fade, she loses the best years of her life: the ones spent with him. And still, he promises to give them back, to relive those days with her over and over just so that she doesn't have to lose them. Still, he loves her. Still, he chooses her, because

Now I get to meet you for the first time every single day.

[dryococelas01]

I've been thinking lately about a particular character archetype that's been really emotionally resonating with me for a while. I've had trouble pinning down exactly why and thought if I rambled on a bit maybe that would help get my thoughts in order.

I'm gonna dub the archetype the Quixote, for reasons that will soon be obvious. Both of my examples are, funnily enough, created by games workshop.

Content warning for, I guess, severely altered states of mind, alzheimers/dementia, insanity, cannibalism and I'm not sure what else. This is a bit of a weird one to tag. I'll put mental illness as a tag even if its a fantasy mental illness rather than anything real.

So I'm gonna introduce the 2 examples first, so everyone's on the same page. They are Nemesor Zandrekh of warhammer 40k and the Flesh-Eater Courts of Age of Sigmar.

So quick Zandrekh crash course. He was part of a race called the necrontyr, they got forcibly uploaded into robot skeleton bodies by soul eating gods called the c'tan and got their souls eaten in the process, becoming the necron. In the process most of them lost all personality, with the nobility being allowed to keep between aspects and the whole of theirs. They then managed to turn on and kill the ctan, and went into a several millenia long sleep. Many of the ones who still had their personalities have odd quirks as a result of their uploads, the long sleep, too early wake ups etc.

Zandrekhs condition is that he does not see the world as it is. To him, his body is flesh and blood. The many aliens and armies he fights are necron rebels and separatists, the mindless robot armies he commands loyal troops.

He has a bodyguard, Oberyn. Oberyn takes care of him. He stands by as his Lord holds feasts of rotten food for prisoners of war he regards as enemy ambassadors, watches his lord attempt to shove food into the flat metal grin where his mouth was. If one of these PoWs or a noble under zandrekh, sick of his nonsense, tried to deal with Zandrekh, Oberyn deals with them.

He stands by him until the end. He knew and loved his lord before they were machines, and he does so now.

(Quick note: some people interpret this as romantic love. I don't but I can see why. To me I have strong recent memories of my dad and me taking care of my grandma whos mind has aged, and that's how I see it. We do explicitly as of the novel Severed have obyron describing it as love). (Second quick note: these 2 are explicitly based on Don quixote and Sancho, one of Zandrekhs old abilities was called something like tilting at solar mills)

That's your crash course on Z. Now the Flesh Eater Courts.

The FSC ars a faction of flesh eating undead ghouls. They are withered and rotten, riding giant bats and undead dragons into battle, devouring the flesh of soldier and citizen alike.

But much like Zandrekh, that's not how they see things. They have a form of infectious delusion.

They are Noble knights. The giant bats are magnificent pegasi, the zombie dragon is alive and majestic, their barren wastelands beautiful and fertile, the hordes of ravenous ghouls the loyal citizenry at their command.

When they invade a civilian village, tearing at their flesh, devouring young and old alike, that's not how they see it. They see a goblin warcamp, a chaos cult hideout, a Necromancers castle. They ride in on their noble steeds, their loyal armies at their back, and save the day. And after? They have a grand feast, peasant and knight feasting side by side on rich and expensive meats.

You get the idea

This archetype so interests me for so many reasons.

Lets start with them as a moral question.

Is The Ghoul Evil? The ghouls have taken part in the butchery of innocents, the slaughter of villages and destruction of homes. They've eaten people and serve the whims of a far less deluded master.

But they don't see it that way. Not only that but they are incapable of seeing it any other way, their senses and minds completely in thrall.

There are plenty of people who do horrible things and see their actions as good, but they have the capability to be different. A violent white nationalist will no doubt say everything they are doing is for some greater good, but they have the capacity to change, they can be something that isn't a voilent white nationalist and there is evidence in the world around them that their views are wrong and abominable.

The ghouls cannot not be ghouls, they can't see the evidence in the world around them.

They can't see their rotten fraying flesh, their sharp teeth. They can't see the farmer they killed, they taste delicious chicken instead of human flesh, drink wine not blood.

They are Noble heroes to their eyes. And there's no way for them to know otherwise. They are doing good, to their eyes.

So is the ghoul evil? I don't think so. Their acts are evil acts, but there is no evil intent to them.

It's a very interesting moral question to me. I'm curious on your thoughts, if anyone sees this.

When the veil lifts.

Nate crowley recently wrote a novella about zandrekh called Severed, from the perspective of obyron. In it he based zandrekh on his experience of a relative with, and I can't remember which, alzheimers or dementia (hence the / in the content warnings).

There is an amazing moment, at one point, that I'm just gonna quote.

So obligatory, spoiler for the novella Severed.

__________________

‘Well fought, old friend,’ said Zahndrekh, with companionable warmth. ‘You really ought to have rested more, but we need to leave. I must commend your rather… straightforward method of dealing with the sorcerer’s engine, and it very much appears to have done the trick. Doahht has gone off like a light, and its legions with it. But without the engine, I fear the stability of the planet itself won’t last, so we’d be much better off in orbit. Are you ready for a short jaunt up to the Horaktys?’

Obyron nearly said yes, but then he remembered the engine’s true purpose. Or what it might have been – it was so hard to recall now.

‘But… our souls, Zahndrekh. The machine… it could give us our souls back. It could give us our bodies. Please, lord, let’s at least take part of it with us, so we can know for sure.’

‘Oh, dear vargard, why do you hold on to such things? You must let the thought of this awful contraption go.’ Zahndrekh put an arm round him in consolation, and continued.

‘Let me pose you this thought, Obyron, in the hope it will bring you ease. What do you think caused you to hold true to me for all this time despite all the power you might have enjoyed through betrayal if it were not a soul? What can love, but a being with a soul?

‘Even if we all ceased to be flesh and blood millions of years ago, which of course I don’t be-lieve for a moment,’ – Zahndrekh actually winked – ‘wouldn’t it have suited us better to live in denial of that, as some fools might say I had done? Wouldn’t it be better, Obyron, just to accept our fate, and enjoy immortality for the everlasting life of merry campaigning it has proved to be?’

Obyron stared hard at Zahndrekh, unsure of what he was hearing.

‘You old bastard. You knew all along.’

‘I knew nothing of the sort, old friend. But since you seem to be labouring under some delusion that you’re a soulless machine, I thought I should at least make some attempt to set you straight.’ Zahndrekh stood up then, and patted his thigh for Obyron to join him. ‘Come now, soldier. Up on your feet, and let’s return to the flagship. If we’re quick about it, we can have this all cleared up in time for a truly astonishing feast.’

Obyron, ever loyal, obeyed his lord. He would have wept, but he had no tears.

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With the authors statement I'd say this is a moment of clarity, not zandrekh having known all along as Obyron imagines. I've seen grandma having many similar ones.

Zandrekh sometimes sees the horrifying reality he lives in, sometimes the fog lifts. And he prefers the fog. There's a lot more to pick apart from that quote but that's what I want to focus on.

Age of Sigmar has a trpg called soulbound, in which you can play a ghoul. If I ever find a play group I will.

Imagine a scenario, out adventuring team has just butchered a village. The ghoul is huddled on the ground, lifting the arm of a murdered young man who tried to defend his home, ready to eat it.

For a moment, the veil lifts. The noble Knight, defender of his people looks around him.

His good freind, the hedge mage, is raising an undead abomination out of murdered civilians. The noble Knight he rode besides has lined up survivors and is draining them of their blood. The beautiful noble lady he traveled with and hoped to court has no flesh, she's a vengeful spirit.

He sees his claws, and sees what he's eating.

Imagine the horror that sets in in that moment.

He doesn't know if he's seeing the truth, or if he's gone mad. If it's the truth then he knows he's a monster, his friends terrors, the people he saved flesh eating ghouls and the people he killed innocent civilians. If its not the truth, then he's gone mad, he's being tormented by some daemon or spirit, he's cursed.

Now, the veil would likely fall shortly after and he'd forget that moment of horror, but let's say it doesn't.

Let's say our noble Knight has a choice. He knows the truth of the matter, and can choose between the veil falling again or staying lifted.

Does he choose to keep it lifted?

I like to imagine I would, that I'd accept the guilt and horror of my existence and past actions and try to be a force for good.

I know that I wouldn't. I would accept the delusion, because fundamentally the horror of what I am and have done would be too much. Reality would break me, so I would retreat and allow the delusion to take me.

I'd like to imagine my noble knight would stand up and become a force for good, redeem himself. He is a noble knight, after all.

Zandrekh sometimes sees past the veil, but keeps acting like he doesn't because the veil is preferable to reality.

It makes a wonderful character moment, something beautiful and tragic beyond my words.

Whenever I think of these moments the veil lifts something in me cries. There's something so tragic about, in the case of the ghouls, someone that is noble, is trying to do good, but is incapable of. Something sad but strangely beautiful about zandrekh choosing to retreat into joy and fantasy rather than face reality.

I don't know how to put it, it just touches something in me.

I don't know, there's a lot more I want to say but I can't figure out how to say it. Hope my rambles were at least interesting.

[loveinhawkins]

ring, for the one word prompts! any era you feel like writing, im not picky! i hope you get to feeling better 💙🫂

thank you, i am 💙 this ended up as a little window into Steve’s family backstory, cw: allusions to Alzheimer’s disease, vascular dementia & death of a grandparent.

His mom’s left her ring on the edge of the bathroom sink. Not her wedding or engagement ring—those always stayed on, even during the worst rows, like she was silently making a point that Steve would never understand—but the costume one with a fake ruby in it, tarnished round the edges, the one she got from her parents when she turned sixteen.

Steve knows she won’t have meant to leave it behind. So he picks it up.

“Mom?”

She’s in the master bedroom, just sitting at the vanity. She’s got that faraway look in her eyes again—the one she had last Thanksgiving, when Grandpa looked at Steve vacantly and did not recognise him.

“Oh,” she says distantly when Steve presents the ring. “Thank you.”

She puts the ring on her finger. Looks in the mirror like she’s seeing something else.

Steve doesn’t know what to do when she gets like this.

“You’ll be good, won’t you?” she says, smiling tremulously—like he’s seven years old and he’s being left with a babysitter, allowed to stay up a whole hour past his bedtime.

“Yeah,” he says. She’s still not stood up so he dares a step closer, puts one arm around her. Tries to look at her reflection in the vanity mirror, but she shudders, hides her face against his arm. He goes still. “Mom. It’s—it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

It’s not okay. She’s ironed his sweater for Christmas Eve at the Wheelers, and her father is dying, and Steve can’t fix any of it.

Mom, don’t go, he can’t say. Thinks of flashing Christmas lights and a terror he can’t shake off. Mom, I’m so scared.

He watches the car pull away from the driveway. Knows she’ll be crying again silently, and his father’s jaw will be tight with all he doesn’t know how to say, because that’s always been the problem with them, always.

I love you, they never say. I love you. I’m sorry.

[nrilliree]

https://www.tumblr.com/dreaming-of-the-reality/746890557891198976/rhaenyra-my-only-child?source=share

Hope you enjoy reading this...

Well anyways, I'm not defending Viserys, but you can't just expect him to not have kids or to marry a woman close to his age, I think you can count with one hand the amount of women from that century who married someone close to their age

Is the (probably) 12th century my love, at 21 women were considered dry and unmarriable

And also again, he had dementia???? And the comments just "well he didn't have enough dementia to forget about Rhaenyra" and it's like dude that's the point of dementia, they forget the newest memories and remember the oldest ones and guess what? Rhaenyra is like 18 years older than her younger siblings

Okay…Viserys was a bad father to EACH of his children and a lousy husband. Everyone knows that. We established this a long time ago. But if you're going to complain about him, people, do it with sense and truth…

Okay, I'll have some fun and detect the untruth and hypocrisy in @dreaming-of-the-reality's post

1) Viserys was not an "old creep of a man" when he married Aemma. He was five years older than her and he married her because he was ordered to do so. Just like Alicent ordered Aegon to marry 13-year-old Helaena when he was 15. Does that make him an "old creep of a man"? Viserys didn't beg his father to let him marry an 11-year-old. The king ordered, the father ordered - Viserys did it. However, his mistake, for which he is responsible, was that he listened and consummated the marriage when Aemma was 13… Right when Aegon consummated his marriage with Helaena. Where's the "fuck Aegon and Alicent" post?

2) "willing to sacrifice his wife for him" Another untruth. Yes, Viserys is a piece of shit because he ordered Aemma to be cut open without even the slightest thought of asking her opinion, giving her poppy milk - whatever. But he didn't sacrifice Aemma's life. She was dying. She and the baby would die. However, the maester said that the child has a chance to survive, Aemma does not. No matter what Viserys would do.

3) "nor paid attention to any of them while growing up" Another untruth! In the series, we see Viserys interacting with young Aegon several times (during his birthday, we see him with him three times in three different scenes), and later we see that he watched their training, knew that Aegon had tricked his nephews into bullying Aegon, and knows that Aemond believed the untruth again and was too gullible for his age. The fact that Viserys at that time no longer had fingers or an arm, was coughing up blood, could barely walk and had memory loss shows that he had little ability to take care of his children… And guess what? Alicent didn't raise her children alone. She had nannies, wet nurses and servants for this. She was a queen, not a washerwoman.

4) “Rhaenyra… my ONLY child” You know what? I really hope that people who write posts like this don't have sick people around them. Neither sick parents nor sick grandparents. Because they would probably get offended and leave, slamming the door at the first mistake of a name or forgetting a fact. My grandmother was terminally ill (it wasn't even Alzheimer's) and for a long time she thought my sister-in-law was me, and when she looked at me she had no idea who I was. And she had much better care than Viserys, who was high on poppy milk.

5) "Don't have more than one child if your not capable of loving more than one. Even better: don't force two woman to carry your children if your only going to love one…" A great plan for a king. That no one thought of it! Oh no, wait… Do you know why? Viserys had one child. Rhaenyra. In ten years, Rhaenyra dies - falls off a horse, gives birth, is poisoned… Whatever. And now the end of House Targaryen has come, because Viserys is too old and too sick to father a child, and his only heir has died.

[loganwritesprobably]

Dealing With Grief

Notes: Insp by Unopened Windows by Set It Off

Tags/Warnings: Mihawk/M!Reader, family member death, discussions of grief following a loss, implied that deceased person had dementia/alzheimer's, hurt/comfort

It never got any easier, or any less, the ache that came from losing someone you love. Loss is incomparable, no matter how much you believe you are hurting more than others, you cannot truly perceive that difference. What you do know for sure, is the loss on your mind hurts more than any of the others. Losing someone you love hurts, but watching as they slowly lose themselves and being forced to grieve all the while, as they forget you and all those they hold dear, robbing you of a true chance of ever saying goodbye - you can't tell that they're gone until it's too late and then there's a husk left behind wearing their face.

You sat before the grave of your grandfather, letting your thoughts roam freely as you pulled absently at the grass beneath you, something to do as tears rolled silently down your face. Those who saw you often claimed that time would heal the hurt you were feeling, yet you'd been coming for years and it had her to leave you. Healed, perhaps, but gone? It never would be. You were often left pondering what could've been and what you had missed - if only he'd been able to see you now.

When he'd been alive, your grandfather had urged you to be happy, whatever that looked like for you. Though, he particularly wanted you to find a partner that you could love and would wholly love you in return, someone you could rely on and call your life partner. If only he could see you now and find out that you'd done just that.

Dracule Mihawk perhaps wasn't the most likely suspect for that, and yet he was perfect for you. Just wonderful. He too had lost much in his life and so whenever you felt melancholy, he would join you in your grief rather than rushing it away, he'd lay beside you until both of you were ready to brave what regular life is supposed to look like, and then you'd both manage to do it with a small smile.

"He's perfect." You whispered to your grandfather's grave, watery smile gracing your features, eyes stinging from tears and your cheeks no doubt pink from the same.

Since he'd died, you hadn't been able to return to your home island. Most other family members had left and so there was no reason for you to go back. Every corner you rounded, every building you entered, every person you spoke to, they all held memories you couldn't face anymore, ones you weren't strong enough to remember without being left in the lurches of grief all over again. You would look around and see not just was, but also what could've been, and end the night cursing the sky.

"There you are, dear." Mihawk said softly, stepping up behind you. He knelt down and carefully pulled you to his chest, gently scratching his blunt nails over the back of your neck to soothe you. "It's a pity you're crying, but you do look so handsome today." You couldn't help laughing, even as you continued to cry.

"I miss him." You whispered, as you often did, the tears thick and catching in your throat, choking the sound.

"I know. But do you know what else I know? I know that he would be incredibly proud to call you his grandson, and that he must hate seeing you like this. Present tense. Because I know he's up there, looking down at you." He always knew just what to say. Despite Mihawk never having met your grandfather, he'd learned plenty about the man from your stories, and having known him yourself you had a feeling your lover was right.

"Yeah. You're right. I just wish he were here, he'd have loved to see us get married." The ring on your finger shone on the orange light of the sunset.

"He will. We'll leave a front row seat open for him, and he can watch from there." He assured you, and your slowly dying tears started anew, now largely from love for your fiance, and how willing he was to accommodate you.

You'd be alright, some day. The wound of loss would scar over, and the ache would dull. You'd be able to look back fondly without choking up, and be free to reminisce and pass the memories of the man you'd loved so much to your own children. You'd be able to impart his lessons, and share his jokes, and see his face in theirs.

Today, you cried.

Tags: @cainnoable @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @frillsinadress @categoryace

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