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cripplecharacters · 7 months ago

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sorry if this is a little too vast, but how often do you feel the whole fantasy concept of curses falls into harmful stereotypes? just because a lot of ‘curses’ in fantasy media:

a) display either symptoms of real disabilities, especially chronic illnesses, or have fantastical symptoms that disable the character in some way or another

b) are often tied to some form of morality, whether a person is cursed because they’re evil and it’s a punishment, or they’re helpless and need to be saved from the horrible life of being ill

c) are usually curable through some sort of magic solution, even though disabled readers cannot magically cure their body

d) overall are linked to magic, and it is my understanding that ‘disability caused by a magic spell’ is very tropey with conditions such as vitiligo.

as an (aspiring) fantasy author, i think the whole concept of curses holds a lot of potential, i just wanted to know if it’s something that could likely be taken as hurtful and ableist, and if so is there a specific aspect of curses that shouldn’t be written about or is it a case of ‘abandon the whole concept of curses’.

sorry if this isn’t very coherent, i’m currently on a flare up right now so words are harder for me than usual. thank you all for running such a cool and helpful blog.

Hello!

You're right that this is a very broad topic. Curses on their own aren't inherently problematic but they certainly can be, especially when they're tied with the first point you've mentioned (That is, having symptoms of real disabilities).

Something also worth noting is that none of those points are necessarily bad on their own, it's all about how the author handles it. For example, a character that becomes cursed with immortality after stealing a child from the fae would be okay. A character that becomes cursed with paralysis after offending a sorcerer, however, would be different.

One example that comes to mind is Eda's curse in The Owl House. For those who aren't familiar with it, Eda was cursed by an unknown person for unknown reasons (Though this is later revealed). Her curse caused things such as limbs that pop off easily (Literally becoming removed from her body, in a cartoon-y way), changes to her appearance (Eye and hair colour), occasional transformation into a large demonic beast, negative effects to her magic, and several other things that are more similar to chronic illnesses (Periods of low energy, etc.).

Even before Eda became disabled (She becomes an amputee later on), her curse felt a lot like a disability narrative to me. She's found ways to cope with it and manage the symptoms she experiences such as taking naps and using an elixir (Which has a similar use to medication for her) that keeps her beast form at bay. There are days when the curse is worse and other days when it's better.

Two main things that stick out to me the most about this example is that, though she obviously doesn't enjoy the curse, Eda is more upset about (And focused on) the fact that she doesn't know who cursed her or why. The fact that curing her curse isn't her main goal is very refreshing to me.

The other thing is one particular arc where her mother comes to visit and it's shown that she comes every year with a new proposed cure. Although this is a magic world, the proposed cures are equated to the whole idea of curing paralysis with certain herbs or ADHD with a certain diet. What was especially relatable to me about this was that Eda doesn't want these so-called cures and her mother's actions are shown as an imposition rather than an act of kindness or charity. As somebody who has accepted my own disabilities while my friends and family members have not, this was something that felt very close to home for me.

Eda's curse has some similarities with real world disabilities -- both in some of the symptoms such as low energy as well as in the way it's treated -- but it isn't a disability in and of itself. That said, it's still one of the best portrayals of living with disability that I've seen and it's an excellent example of how curses can be done and related to disability in a way that isn't ableist or poorly designed.

The main reason that the portrayal of Eda's curse is so well done is because it's designed with consideration for the show's disabled audience. Although some able-bodied people may pick up on certain things, the whole narrative around Eda's curse is much more relatable and obvious to people who live with a disability than those who don't.

Essentially, it's the story that a lot of disabled people want to see.

Not somebody with a disability being cured or fixed but somebody with a disability living a full, meaningful life and with those around them learning to understand and accept that.

Eda's mother doesn't stop looking for a cure because she gives up on her daughter or because her daughter pushes her away. She stops because she realizes how her efforts were hurting Eda and how their relationship was suffering from it.

Not only that but she also accepts that Eda knows her curse better than her mother does AND she wants to learn more about Eda's methods for dealing with it.

This is huge!

The series is showing respect for Eda's bodily autonomy and her independence. It's recognizing that disabled people know our disabilities and our bodies better than others do. A lot of us have to deal with constant unsolicited advice on how to deal with our disabilities from friends, family members, and even complete strangers so to see this situation portrayed in this way was especially refreshing.

This is a smaller factor but another way that Eda's curse was done well is that it's clearly fantasy. The cause is fantasy, the manifestations are fantasy, and the resulting effects are fantasy.

While the effects may have some similarities to real life disabilities, the manifestations are enough to differentiate the curse from actual disabilities. For example, people with dissociative disorders may have moments they can't remember but they don't turn into a large demonic beast during them.

There's enough of a distance there that it isn't equated one-to-one as disability, even if the narrative is very similar to disability narratives.

Unfortunately, I have also seen curses portrayed in a way that is ableist and rather poorly dealt with.

I don't intend to name it (I'll explain my reasoning below*) but I recently read a book where one of the side characters was cursed as punishment for her own selfish actions and ended up functionally mute. She used ASL to communicate for the most part. Within the book, the character is shown to be so bitter and upset about her curse and the resulting effects that she takes it out on her family and her child in particular.

This is bad for several reasons.

First, by making the curse so similar to a real-world disability/symptom, any associations made with the curse are also, by extension, being made with that disability. In showing how much this character hates her curse, it's also showing how much she hates being disabled.

If her curse was something like waking up every day in a different body (Or something else that has no real-world equivalent), it's easier to put distance between the curse and any similarities to disability. It also allows you, as the writer, to focus more on other aspects as opposed to the immediate focus of how the curse disables a character (Such as how Eda was bothered by not knowing how or why she was cursed rather than the curse itself).

Because the curse is equated to her disability, this also falls into several ableist tropes.

As the curse was a punishment from the fae for her own selfish actions, it falls into the "disability as punishment" trope.

The fact that her curse -- or at least her frustration/bitterness from the curse -- is pushing her to act the way that she does also causes it to fall into several problematic tropes involving disabled villains. For one thing, the prime cause of her "bad behaviour" (For lack of a better term) being her curse/disability.

In contrast, Eda from The Owl House does push people away because of her curse but it's because of her fear (Specifically the fear of losing control of her beast form and hurting somebody) that causes her to do that. This habit of pushing people away out of fear is also touched on and shown outside of the context of her curse.

With the book, the character's actions are directly shown to be because she's mute and the anger/bitterness/frustration she feels around that.

A lot of this specific problem comes from the writing itself. If the author had wrote it so the character was lashing out at her family because she felt like she wasn't being heard or because she was afraid they might do something dangerous (Such as going after the fae that did this) and she wouldn't be able to stop them, that would be a different situation. There may still be some negative associations but it's less of a direct correlation between being cursed/disabled and being a jerk.

Now, having a character become cursed as a punishment isn't necessarily a bad thing.

In the show Lucifer, the side character Cain is cursed with immortality after killing his brother (And, as this is the same Cain from the bible, committing the first murder). Throughout his arc on the show, Cain is looking for a way to cure his curse and, essentially, die.

Because immortality isn't anywhere close to a real-world disability, these other factors aren't a problem as there's no association with disability.

Essentially what I'm getting at here is that curses can be perfectly fine. They aren't inherently ableist or problematic in any way but they certainly can be. It's all about how you, as the writer, handle it and what associations you're making -- whether you intend to or not.

The main thing to keep in mind when including curses in your writing is to consider what purpose they're serving and what you want to do with them.

If you want the curse to be a punishment for something terrible that the character has done, it's best to stay far away from disability and lean more into the fantasy side of things.

If you want curing the curse to serve as the character's main goal throughout the story, it could be okay to have some elements of real-world disability in there. For example, in a world where magic is used freely maybe your character is cursed to only be able to use their magic through a specific conduit and if it goes unused for a while, it causes tics or spasms.

While this is still similar to real-world disabilities (Such as Tourette's syndrome or epilepsy), there's enough distance between the manifestation of the curse (Only being able to use their magic through a specific conduit) and the disability-like effect of it (The tics/spasms). This distance gives you the ability to focus on other aspects of the curse (Such as the problems with magic) as the motivation for wanting to cure it rather than the disability aspects of it.

One final word of caution is to be careful when mixing the "curse as an allegory for disability" and "curse as a punishment for doing something evil". I'd generally suggest avoiding it. I have never seen it done in a way that doesn't end up incredibly ableist and reading as a bad cautionary tale for children ("Eat your veggies or you'll end up in a wheelchair" = "Don't kick children because they might be witches and you'll end up blind").

This is especially important to keep in mind if you want to use the curse as a disability narrative or otherwise have it be treated/showed similarly to disability (Like The Owl House did with Eda). If you want to do that, explore explore other causes for the curse. Maybe it was the result of a training mishap with a new witch? Or maybe they accidentally broke a dangerous artifact? Just as long as it's not shown to be a punishment/consequence of sorts.

As promised, I've explained my reasoning for not naming the book down below.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

*So my reasoning for not naming the book is because of a few things. The main one is that, while the rest of the examples I gave have a fairly large and established presence, this book is by a new author and published by a small publishing company. Simply put, they don't have the same resources that corporations such as Disney and Fox do.

The other thing is that while there are multiple writers working on tv shows like The Owl House and Lucifer, this book has a singular creator and this is her first book. Although I did criticize her portrayal of the character's curse heavily, there were several parts I enjoyed and I am reluctant to put the book on blast and risk discouraging her from writing more.

If this was the work of a more established author (Such as Rick Riordan or JK Rowling) or I was discussing it in a more positive light, I'd be more comfortable naming the book openly.

#mod icarus #anonymous #fantasy setting #fantasy disabilities #disability as punishment

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supernova41st · 8 months ago

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Scent 🕯️

Tf2 mercs scents

A/n: I was gonna say something about Medic shaving but then I got flash banged by that one picture of him with the hairy chest.

Scout

He took the term “cologne king” and ran with it.

He puts on like 10 sprays of cologne every morning guys it’s bad

Tries to cover his sleep stank with cologne every morning but it’s very much there

He does use deodorant because he’s not THAT stinky (tho spy is the one who forces him to wear it)

“Scout, did you put on your axe this morning?”

“ughhhh I don’t wanna 😒”

Uses 2 in one because he’s lazy asf. He’ll only use the good stuff if it’s from spy.

He doesn’t rlly care for face care, he uses the same bar of soap he uses to wash his ass and it works fine surprisingly

His rooms smells kinda musky but it’s subtle,it mostly comes from his mattress that he’s been using since childhood (which he barely fits on)

Heavy

Have you’ve ever been inside the car of a guy who works out frequently? Yeah

He smells musky asf, he does sweat a lot so it makes sense!

He has a subtle Cinnamon smell to him, no one knows if it’s from something he uses or if it’s natural

If you ever give him a hug god rest your soul cuz all your gonna be huffing in that day is his scent.

Def uses Dr squatch deodorant cuz he’s classy like that. Wont use cologne unless it’s a gift from someone

Spy

You’ll never catch this man being stinky, EVER.

He uses the good shit, Le Male Elixir, showers every night, and every now and then has a Smokey scent to him.

Scout begs and begs for his cologne but he’s a gatekeeping king so he won’t budge.

“SPY PLEASE JUST GIMME THE NAME”

“Absolutely not.”

“CMON-SPY WHAT ARE THE TOP NOTES? WHERE DO YOU NORMALLY SHOP??”

His shampoo has no scent + he doesn’t really care for buying the expensive stuff cuz his hair is always covered anyways.

His skincare is pretty good, uses face wash serum and moisturizer. No anti-aging stuff tho, he personally thinks aging is a privilege.

Pyro

If you can smell these two photos, you’re smelling pyro

Medic

He just smells like a hospital, but when finishing a mission he smells like straight blood.

His hospital smell mostly comes from the latex gloves he has to wear, the blood smell is from surgery’s or brutally killing enemies. (Obv)

Definitely doesn’t mind getting blood on him, so if you complain about the smell to him he’ll shrug it off.

Cologne wise he’d use something minty, he’d only ever use it when going somewhere fancy. Other than that he sees no use for cologne.

He’s quite high maintenance, so he never stinks nor does he necessarily smell good. He just smells like.. medic.

Demoman

You’ve ever took a whiff of milk to check if it’s expired? Yeah.

Sorry but he does not gaf, there’s a puke stain on his shirt from like a week ago + he uses pretty cheap cologne.

Def uses Irish spring cuz I said so, it fits him.

Would have a sleep stink but getting a sleep stink would come from a bed, lord knows he’ll make it to his bed before passing out drunk.

He doesn’t shave, he uses child safe scissors to cut his beard 😭 someone help him.

Engineer

ITS BAD.

but it’s also like, hot?

He had that garage workshop scent, he’s also sweaty cuz of course he is. For god sakes he’s in his 50s and doing garage work he shouldn’t be doing that he should be sitting down and having a fucking glass of water.

No cologne for him, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, that being all the sweat he collects from making shit he probably shouldn’t be making !!

Showers at night cuz that’s when he gets all the sweat off, he takes those piping hot showers that would burn off a normal persons skin off.

Sniper

He hangs around piss jars all day, I’ll let you do the rest.

No sleep, no cologne, just him. He just smells like rain and spoiled milk.

His camper van smell interesting to say the least, it’s not necessarily clean so it just smells like straight coffee, not the good kind.

He’s not that musty! He is quite hygienic.. in a way

He had a skincare routine, and spends half and hour in the shower cuz he ends up dozing off after a while <//3

He does NOT play about that skincare routine btw, if he sees a pimple he’s tracking down what he used to cause it.

Once he does he’ll use it as target practice lol

Soldier

This guy smells like 1000 things at once.

If you took a whiff of him he’d smell like straight dirt at first, but then it somehow transfers to a wet dog kind of smell, with a hint of oil.

*need a cologne of that

If you offer him deodorant/cologne he’ll deny it. He says that the way he smells is how god intended

His helmet smells FOULL, if you take the tiniest sniff you’re gonna pass out.

#idk #lol #x reader #scout tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 x reader #scout x reader #medic x reader #demoman x reader #spy x reader #enginner x reader #soldier x reader #heavy x reader

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srbachchan · 3 months ago

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DAY 6264

Jalsa, Mumbai Apr 10, 2025 Thu 10:53 pm

The chapter of 'decision making' has been read and completed .. and what the take away from that was that at times , when there is an apprehension, it takes away all energy in the expectation of 'what shall be the reaction to the decision' ..

But finally after much dillydalying when the time comes and the decision is done and made , you find that it wasn't that stressful after all ..

Why ?

Because, the apprehension stems from the apprehension as what shall the other think and react .. and you find that your own apprehension was resolved by the reaction of the other .. which was very compilable or in a sense compatible .. and the entire episode ends with not just the relief of it being done , but the ease with which matters turned ..

So one by one of the the various issues of the decision making fear is overcome and life begins to look perhaps brighter ..

A good night rest and a short nap in the afternoon .. and perhaps a bit of the elixir of 'pick up' .. yes the caffeinated .. does bring strength .. never to be in excess .. but on and off, without making a habit of it ..

Some medicals say it is good to have the coffee .. but I feel any force or elixir that ups the body , is perhaps a reliance on it , and which should be prevented ..

But to each his or her own ..

I am no medical expert or consultant .. and my words cannot be taken as a decree !!!🤭 ..

The mind plays truant often ..

An excited offer gives it reason to be excited .. but on further study and inner thought, it can be seen .. NO .. this is not working for me .. I am not COMFORTABLE .. so avoid ..

Better to be out of it .. than be on it and not comfortable later ..

A lesson one learns each day ..

Age keeps teaching us each day .. and at 83 , it still teaches , and coerces us to believe act and follow .. which we try to do ..

Not comfortable ? .. step out .. errrm .. a loss of opportunity .. yes , but discomfort and loss measure up .. ready to measure up, fine .. not .. then sit back and either wait for the next or be in satisfaction ..

I often say on KBC when the contestant reaches the larger amounts :

संतुष्टि , या लालच !!!

🤣🤣

दोनों का एक महत्व है, अब आपको चुनना है कि किसे पकड़ें !!

जब ईश्वर की कृपा बनी रहती है, तो संतुष्ट होना, बहुत बड़ा निर्णय होता है !!!

आप सब के जीवन में, ईश्वर की कृपा बनी रहे

आभार, स्नेह 🌺🌺

Amitabh Bachchan

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aventurineswife · 4 months ago

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Not a request, just felt like rambling about something Resident Evil and Parasite Eve inspired (don’t worry if you’re not familiar with the latter game) uhhhhhhhhhh

So Reader is a Galaxy Ranger and what makes Reader unique among them is their remarkable resistance (perhaps even immunity) to the horrible side-effects and mutations of the Abundance. For example, they’re clearly long-lived, yet the mara-inducing medications concocted by the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus have no effect on Reader whatsoever. This is because Reader’s cells and genetics have adapted to the effects of the Abundance while still resisting its corruption, eventually evolving to coexist.

This kind of resistance / immunity makes Reader the perfect agent to send in when it comes to eliminating monsters mutated by the Abundance (and also certain enemies following Yaoshi, like Sanctus Medicus); and this is actually what Reader specializes in, neutralizing / putting down Abundance mutations while hunting down the people responsible for creating those mutations.

But this also means that Reader is the perfect research subject for those seeking immortality / researching the Abundance and have less scruples going about it (Elixir Seekers, Disciples of Sanctus Medicus, Denizens of Abundance, Vidyadhara Preceptors, Intelligentsia Guild, Genius Society, etc) so their guard is up almost 24/7.

I’ve been trying to think of who would be most fitting to pair with Reader in this kind of situation: Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan, Feixiao, Ruan Mei, Jiaoqiu, Jingliu, Boothill, Acheron—

And so far, I feel like Dan Heng x Reader x Boothill would be a really cute and silly dynamic.

Like, there’s a Preceptor in cahoots with Taoran and menacing Reader trying to get Reader’s blood samples—

BOOM! In comes Boothill with a right hook and the Preceptor is knocked out cold, while Dan Heng is shaking his head the background. 😂

Okay, first of all, this concept? Absolutely sick. Reader being this walking enigma of Abundance resistance, both the ultimate weapon against its corruption and the ultimate prize for those who want to exploit it? That’s some peak bio-horror and cosmic horror vibes right there.

The fact that everyone wants a piece of them—from the Sanctus Medicus cultists to the morally gray scientists of the Genius Society—means they’re in constant danger, always watching their back. But at the same time, they’re a necessary force in the galaxy, actively hunting down the worst monstrosities that crawl out of Abundance-fueled nightmares. They’re a legend, both feared and coveted.

And then you throw in Dan Heng and Boothill? Oh, the contrast there is perfect.

Dan Heng—stoic, disciplined, reserved. He’s probably the one keeping Reader grounded, making sure they don’t burn themselves out, subtly watching their back while pretending he’s not stressed about their constant life-threatening missions. He understands the burden of being hunted, of having something inside you that others want to control. The quiet moments between them, where he teaches them how to center themselves, where he reminds them that they aren’t just a tool to be used? Chef’s kiss.

Boothill—the absolute chaos gremlin. While Dan Heng is all about strategy and control, Boothill is just like, “Ain’t no one takin’ ya if they’re six feet under, partner.” No patience for creepy cultists or shady scientists, just pure cowboy violence. He sees Reader getting cornered by some Abundance-obsessed researcher, and before they can even monologue about immortality, bam! Boothill’s already decked them. And Dan Heng is off to the side with a deep sigh, rubbing his temples because this is the third time this week.

The dynamic between these three would be hilarious and heartwarming. Reader, who’s used to being on high alert at all times, suddenly has Boothill causing problems for them and Dan Heng subtly making sure they don’t lose themselves in the constant war they’re fighting. Boothill makes things fun, Dan Heng makes things meaningful, and together they’d be an unstoppable trio.

10/10, I fully support this chaos. 👍

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floweryanarchy · 4 months ago

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Gods I'm loving this AU but also I'm feeling so bad for Gale, like, Netherese illness pains and symptoms + Flayer infection pains and symptoms! How is this man standing and moving and doing things!! He must have an insane pain tollerance frfr

I FEEL bad and IM the one that wrote him that way

(Gale is my fav I promise but man he is suffering)

Some of his existing Netherese sickness symptoms have been heightened due to the mix of the Flayer infection. Such as Nausea, fatigue, joint and body aches (his poor creaking knees rip)

But! He has a HOARD of magical ite- sorry I mean pain medication that he keeps around with him to help minimize some of the symptoms.

Speaking of which, this message was brought to you by

Halsin Silverbough’s Soothing Tincture!

A remedy for aches, pains, and ailments of the body & spirit. Crafted in the heart of The Grove, this fine elixir is derived from the most potent herbs and botanicals.

By the wisdom of the wilds, let nature heal!

#Bg3 OutlawsAu #baldurs gate 3 #bg3asks #bg3 #gale dekarios #bg3 au

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fannedandflawless · 2 months ago

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Master of the Mind: What it Took for Severus Snape to Survive

Let us speak plainly—Severus Snape did not survive because he was lucky, or gifted, or helped. He survived because he trained his mind into steel, and paid for it with every breath. And we have not talked about that enough.

From Spinner’s End to the dungeons of Hogwarts, Snape’s life was not a tale of triumph—it was a study in endurance. Born into neglect and raised in an environment of hostility, he learned early on that the world would not protect him. So he became his own shield.

But how does a boy who was starved of safety and affection become the man who fools both Voldemort and Dumbledore? How does someone so chronically unloved become the most crucial double agent in a war that demanded perfection?

The answer: He mastered his mind.

🩸 Occlumency and the Fortress of the Self

Occlumency is not simply the art of resisting Legilimency. It is the discipline of burying your entire emotional landscape beneath a layer of calculated silence. To succeed at it means not only shielding your thoughts from intrusion—it means silencing your own mind, even in solitude. Especially in solitude.

Snape lived in Occlumency. He wore it like a second skin. There was no room for error when both Voldemort and Dumbledore were looking directly at him, always. He had to be unreadable, unbreakable. One misstep and everything he fought for—everyone he tried to protect—would vanish.

He didn’t rest. He didn’t flinch. He stayed quiet even when screaming would’ve been easier. And he was just a man. Not a god. Not some emotionless machine. Just… so very disciplined, even when it hurt.

🔍 Legilimency: The Curse of Knowing

If Occlumency was armour, Legilimency was the weapon he wielded—but not without cost. Snape didn’t use Legilimency for pleasure or power. He used it to navigate a war he could never afford to lose.

He read his enemies. He read his allies. He read students—because even they could be conduits for danger. He read the people he loathed and the ones who reminded him of everything he lost. And every time he reached into someone else’s mind, he had to leave his own unguarded for a moment.

It was agony. And he did it anyway.

💔 Exhaustion Hidden in Robes

Snape’s legendary snappishness was never about cruelty. It was the exhaustion of a man running on vigilance and grief. While others wore night robes, he wore full teaching attire in the middle of the night. Always patrolling. Always ready.

Why?

Because he couldn’t afford to sleep deeply. Because he couldn’t afford to be unprepared. Because when the war lives in your skull, there is no such thing as rest.

It wasn’t just trauma. It was strategy. It was survival.

🧪 He Could Heal, But Nothing Held

With his talent as a Potions Master, there’s no doubt Snape could have brewed elixirs to counteract his own exhaustion, his malnourishment, the physical wreckage of childhood neglect.

But when your days are spent wearing down your soul with lies, grief, and unrelenting mental shielding—what good is a potion? He could heal the wound, but the world would rip it open again the next day.

It became something like penance. Like someone dependent on medication just to function who, one day, stops—not because the medicine doesn’t work, but because life has worn them down to the point where even temporary relief feels futile. Because he knew the healing wouldn't last. Because it never reached the root—only hovered at the surface, delaying the inevitable.

And there’s another weight we rarely account for: ingredients. While his financial state remains ambiguous, I’ve made some assumptions about this in [a previous post]—and it stands to reason that brewing consistent restorative potions would be costly. Not just in coin, but in time, privacy, and rare materials. Even with access, it may have felt indulgent—wasteful, even—to use them on himself when the war demanded he ration everything.

You cannot pour rest into a man who lives as a dam. And if he ever tried to help himself—truly—what chance did it have against the weight he carried? Relief may have flickered, but it could never root itself. Not when every hour of vigilance, every silent war fought in his mind, drained the effect before it could take hold. It was easier, perhaps even more just, to stop trying.

🛡 Forbearance, Not Just Patience

Snape’s survival didn’t hinge on mere patience. It demanded forbearance—a rarer, deeper discipline: the ability to endure provocation, injustice, and suffering without retaliation. Without complaint.

He didn’t strike back when students mocked him in his own classroom. He didn’t defend himself when the world misunderstood him, again and again. He didn’t lash out when Lupin returned to Hogwarts. He didn’t scream when Harry looked at him with Lily’s eyes and saw only hatred.

He suffered with dignity. He let the world misread him rather than betray the truth he carried. Forbearance is not weakness—it is strength restrained for the sake of others.

His life required so much just to be alive. To remain standing meant resisting every urge to collapse, retaliate, or justify himself. And still, he stayed upright.

🗡 And Still, He Endured

He endured Lily’s death—the one he tried to prevent. He endured serving Voldemort—the very monster who killed her, and the one he once begged for her life. He endured looking into the eyes of her child every day—eyes that mirrored Lily’s exactly, set into a face that resembled James Potter's like a copy from a cruel spell. The double torment of seeing the one he loved and the one who took her, every single day, demanded not just strength—but restraint beyond comprehension. And he bore it, knowing the boy would never understand. He endured watching students suffer under the Carrows' cruelty—hexed, tortured, humiliated—and was forced to do nothing visible to stop it. He endured seeing a colleague—Charity Burbage—killed before his eyes at Malfoy Manor, unable to intervene without destroying everything he'd risked. And still, he carried on.

He made an Unbreakable Vow. He killed the only man who ever trusted him—not with warmth, but with the strategic confidence one places in a pawn they believe will reach the end of the board. Dumbledore's trust was not affection. It was calculation. And Severus bore the weight of it like it was honour. He protected the school when Death Eaters took control. He guided Harry to the sword. He died with the trio present—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—but no comfort, no hand held in return. His final act was not to reach out for salvation, but to offer truth through a memory. Even at the end, he gave more than he received.

And through all of it? Not a single soul asked him how he was holding up.

🖤 He Didn’t Go Mad. He Just Went Silent.

In the end, what’s most terrifying is not that he died. It’s that he lived that long.

He lived through things that would have broken anyone else. He walked through war with no banner. He bore betrayal and brutality with no promise of redemption.

He didn’t survive because he was loved. He survived because he refused to shatter.

And that, above all, is what made Severus Snape the strongest mind in the story. A mind we should honour. A man we should have seen sooner. Someone who didn’t need the world’s forgiveness—just one person to see the ruin, and say: “You stayed. You suffered. And I see you.”

And in the end, it wasn’t just death that found him—it was something quieter. Something that finally let go. Nagini didn’t simply kill him—she may have released him. From burden. From despair. From agony. Her bite ended his service, yes… but perhaps, it ended his suffering too.

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pint-sized-pillars-au · 2 months ago

Note

What was the exact order of the deaging and what was it like?

it’s a bit rough atm, but the idea is they were all exposed to some sort of blood demon art or elixir Muzan created in the middle of a giant attack on the Demon Slayer Corps… it was a wide range attack, so they were spread out. The Hashira were hit with the intention of transforming them; anyone else who got in the way threatened to be killed ):

the general order is this:

Gyomei Himejima — He took a blow for Muichiro. As soon as he was hit, a cloud of smoke appeared, and it looked like he had vanished. When the smog faded, Gyomei stood, now de-aged into a young teenager

Kyojuro Rengoku — Kyojuro was nearby. He quickly pieced together what was happening, and ran into battle. Instead of being attacked or killed, he was also exposed to the elixir/BDA. Tanjiro was the one to carry him out of the fight-zone

Tengen Uzui — Tengen was confident. He knew what to do, and he fought accordingly. Unfortunately, he got hit when Inosuke and Zenitsu’s mid battle shenanigans led to him getting caught. The ten year old was very unimpressed

Shinobu Kocho — She was helping some wounded Demon Slayer Corps Members. By then, she caught onto the pattern; they were targeting the Hashira. She had a solution and was about to save the day, but she too got caught in Zenitsu and Inosuke shenanigans

Sanemi Shinazugawa — Sanemi and Obanai were instructed to keep guard of the transformed, especially now that the main medic was four years old. This worked for a while, but when Genya was caught in the crossfire of an attack, Sanemi was tricked into getting back on the main battle field. He was transformed after shielding Genya

Obanai Iguro — He dodged most blows, and he would have continued dodging them had they not threatened to target the children. Without thinking, Obanai threw himself in front of his de-aged Hashira, and held them as he was hit by the elixir/BDA

Mitsuri Kanroji — She got caught up in helping her peers, and never realized that she was a target of the transformations; in fact, she had not realized anyone aside from Gyomei and Kyojuro were transformed; she and Giyuu were so distracted fighting alongside the lower ranks. Upon realizing there were children on the battle field, she instinctively ran to find them. She, Giyuu, and Muichiro were instructed to flee the battlefield and take the transformed Hashira with them. She attempted to carry Obanai and Kyojuro to safety, but she was hit, having been too slow to dodge.

Giyuu Tomioka — Likewise, Giyuu was carrying Sanemi and Shinobu, with Tengen following close behind. Though the others, namely Tanjiro and the rest of the Kamaboko Squad, covered them, Giyuu was ultimately exposed alongside Mitsuri.

Muichiro Tokito — Muichiro didn’t leave the field at first, as he stubbornly tried to stay and fight, but Gyomei convinced him to go with the others. Running alongside Gyomei and catching up with their fellow Hashira, Muichiro feels guilty for Gyomei’s transformation. Before Gyomei can ask about it, he passes out. Muichiro carries him, only to find the other Hashira all unconscious. Anyone who tried to help them escape is either dead or wounded. The Kamaboko Squad nearly reaches them when Muichiro is hit. Everything fades to black as a baby starts to cry ):

What happens after that isn’t told to any of the Hashira, as all nine of them pass out shortly after transforming— side effects or something, I’m still figuring that piece out.

The AU really starts with all the Hashira waking up in the Butterfly Estate confused and disoriented until they register what happened! This is moreso background lore… I have plans of making an animatic once I have the time + a script!

#pint sized pillars au #psp au #gyomei himejima #tengen uzui #sanemi shinazugawa #obanai iguro #muichiro tokito #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #kyojuro rengoku #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #kny #background lore #may be revamped

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millenianthemums · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 6 of Mabel’s Guide to the Power of Friendship is up!!

Writing this one took me a while, and then the art also took a while… everything took a while. i always enjoy writing this once i get to it, though! hope you enjoy this one too.

INDEX

chapter text under cut:

It was hard for Mabel to really relax, knowing that Bill was lurking just below the floorboards. But by the time the sun was low and her family was gathered around the dinner table, she’d mostly put it out of her mind. It was hard to be miserable with them around.

“You think Soos will bring more empanadas when he’s here tomorrow?” Dipper asked, picking at the strangely opalescent casserole on his plate.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were insinuating something about my cooking,” Ford said wryly.

“Whaaat? No! No, don’t be– that’s ridiculous,” Dipper said. “This is great! I mean, it’s a million times better than last time, this one didn’t even come to life and attack us–”

“Don’t jinx it,” Stan said.

“Hey, c’mon, guys,” Mabel piped up. “It’s the thought that counts, right? It’s really sweet that he tried. Besides, even Grunkle Ford can’t be perfect at everything.”

Ford chuckled. “Thank you, Mabel. As far as backhanded compliments go, that’s quite nice.”

“It’s true!” she said. “So what if you’re not a chef? You invent, like, six magical contraptions a week!”

“That’s a wild exaggeration,” Ford said with a grin. “It’s been at least a month since the last one. Although Fiddleford and I have made some real progress on our current project…”

“New project?” Dipper perked up. “What is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know if the details will interest you that much–”

“Shaaare!” Mabel demanded. Dipper immediately joined in, both of them pumping their fists and shouting “Share! Share! Share!” until Ford laughed and gave in. They all knew he didn’t really need that much encouragement, but it was fun anyway.

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you.” Ford waved his hands to set the scene, the way he always did when he started talking about science stuff. “So, we all know that unicorn tears have remarkable healing properties, right? But we also know that unicorns aren’t generous creatures, and trying to obtain some tears by force often creates more injuries than they could ever heal.”

Stan snorted. “And how many tries did it take for that lesson to set in?”

“Not the topic, Stanley. Anyway, our goal was to synthetically recreate the healing properties of the tears, eliminating the need to seek out the real thing. This has been in the works for a long time; in fact, our biggest breakthroughs came from studying the sample Mabel and her friends obtained last year…”

Dipper extended a fist to Mabel, and she proudly bumped it.

“...And I must say, we’ve had some very promising results with the latest prototypes! There have been some hiccups here and there– we really should have fireproofed the lab sooner– but I think in the next few weeks, we might even end up with something that could surpass the healing properties of unicorn tears!”

“Nice!” Mabel held out a fist to Ford. “Take that, you overrated horses!”

Ford laughed, accepting the fist bump. Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Here’s hoping you get it workin’ before we set out again. It’d make things way less stressful on the boat. Heck, the coast guard medics might even have time to forget our names!”

“Wait, you’re setting out again?” Dipper asked. “When?”

“End of the summer, same as you kids!” Stan said proudly. “First thing in September, we’re headed right back out there.”

Ford nodded. “We still have a lot more to investigate. I expect we’ll be very busy once Fall comes around, which is why I’m under strict orders to ‘take it easy’ while we’re here. Otherwise, the elixir would probably be finished by now–” Stan crossed his arms, and Ford quickly added “--but I completely understand the point of it. Rest is important, kids.”

“Darn right,” Stan grunted. “Far as I’m concerned, we’re both on vacation for the summer.”

Dipper tapped his fork on his chin. “So you won’t be studying Gravity Falls for a while?”

“C’mon, brobro,” Mabel chided. “Grunkle Ford’s willingly taking a break for once, let’s not remind him of all the extra stuff he could be doing!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Dipper protested. “I’m just saying…”

“It’s a fair question,” Ford said. “There certainly are plenty of mysteries left unsolved around here. But I think Stanley and I have broadened our focus a bit too much to give special attention to Gravity Falls anymore. Just our brief stay in the Arctic Circle alone has raised so many fascinating questions, and we still have so many more places to investigate… there’s just not enough time to solve all the world’s mysteries, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, relax, Poindexter,” Stan cut in, shoving Ford’s shoulder. “We’re not the only ones working on this stuff. Something tells me Gravity Falls’ll be in good hands, even without us.” He gave Dipper a meaningful wink. Mabel couldn’t help but smile at the way her brother’s face lit up.

“Hey, guys?” Dipper asked, leaning back in his chair and trying to seem subtle. “Can we talk after dinner? I was hoping to get some feedback on this project I’m working on…”

Mabel’s smile faded. “Is it about that dumb thesis contest?” She turned to the Grunkles and pointed accusingly at Dipper. “He won’t let me help with it! He wouldn’t shut up about how cool it would be to win and get a big smarty-pants paper published, and now that he’s allowed to start working on it he won’t even tell me what it’s gonna be about! I could have done like fifty illustrations by now if—”

“I told you, there’s nothing to share yet!” Dipper protested. “I’ve… kinda been putting it off. I’ve still got a week until the topic proposal’s due…”

“Then what do you need Stan and Ford’s ‘feedback’ on?”

Dipper tugged at his shirt collar. “Uh… it’s…”

“I could help,” she said, voice a little louder than she’d wanted. “Even if it’s something I’m bad at, I could help make it look cool. If you just told me a little bit about it…”

Dipper sighed. “Look, Mabel, I promise I’ll share it with you soon, okay? I just… I want it to be a surprise.”

Mabel looked at him doubtfully over the rim of her water glass. She wanted to keep prying, but it was clear she was just making him uncomfortable. He didn’t want her help, he just didn’t know how to say it. She could tell.

“Okay,” she said, trying not to sound hurt. It was fine, really. She had high-speed bike riding; Dipper was allowed to have things just for himself too. It was normal for twins to grow apart. She drained the rest of her glass and stared down at the tablecloth.

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. Then Stan spoke up. “Speaking of surprises. Hey Sixer, remember that thing we ran into off the coast of Greenland in March?”

Ford laughed. “How could I possibly forget? Now, kids, I don’t know about you, but nothing in my paleontology education gave me the impression that wooly mammoths were aquatic…”

Soon Mabel was too wrapped up in seafaring stories to be sad about anything.

——-

Bill must have fallen asleep at some point. He’d been lying there, in the basement, in the dark, with the Pines’ infernal voices ringing above him, but then something had happened. The voices changed. And suddenly he wasn’t in a basement anymore. He was lying on an exam table, and his arms were strapped down, and his eye wouldn’t close, and the air was thick with antiseptic. And there were voices all around him, moving around him, but he knew he couldn’t look, he just had to keep his eye focused on the stars overhead, just don’t look, just don’t look at them, just pretend they’re not there, pretend you’re among the stars and nothing’s happening, nothing hurts. So he didn’t look away, not even when the quiet voices he could hear through the pain changed again, became painfully familiar, he still didn’t look, even when they started screaming, even when their cries and pleading were drowned out by the sounds of flames, even when the heat waves twisted the air and the crunching, sizzling, tearing sounds and the smell of burning meat drowned out all his other senses he still didn’t look, he didn’t look down, he wouldn’t–

And then he was back in the basement. It was dark and still. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

He sat up and scrubbed at his face with the blanket he’d been wrapped in. Dreams. He hadn’t been ready to deal with dreams. Other people’s dreams were a riot. Not his own.

He’d been distracted too quickly to dwell on the last one. He’d foolishly hoped that would be the last one for a while. But no, of course not. This world couldn’t allow him even a moment of peace. Every sleep was going to be like this.

In the dark, he staggered to the small bathroom in the back of the room. He ran the cold water in the sink and rinsed his mouth until he forgot the taste of the smoke. It was so vivid. So convincing. Even though none of it had made any sense, it felt real.

He stared numbly at the mirror. Their voices. He’d remembered them, of course. Despite all the worlds that had sprouted and withered between then and now, despite everything he’d tried, he’d never been able to stop remembering them. But he never thought he’d have to hear those voices again.

Someone knocked at the door.

His first thought was “thank god”. He’d been desperately hoping for anything else to think about. His second thought, as he heard the door unlock, was “that could be anybody”. So he stood just at the edge of the room and prepared to run for cover, until a small, high-pitched voice said “It’s me.”

Bill relaxed a little. Not a lot, but more than zero. He scrubbed his face dry and straightened his bowtie before she entered, trying to look as stoic as possible. She didn’t seem to notice anything amiss as she rushed in and slumped against the door to shut it. Both her hands were busy carrying an overloaded paper plate.

Trying her best to not let it fold under the weight of the food piled onto it, she glanced around for a surface to place it on. The curved lid of the wooden chest was considered, then quickly rejected when the plate started sliding. She winced before resorting to setting it down on the floor beside the beanbag. Finally, she retrieved a packet of plastic utensils from a takeout place and laid it beside the plate, trying to make it look presentable.

“We need to get a table or something in here,” she muttered as Bill drew closer to inspect the offering.

“YEAH, SOME APPLIANCES WOULD BE NICE TOO,” he joked. “I’M THINKIN’ A STUDIO APARTMENT KIND OF SETUP. WASHER AND DRYER OVER THERE, THAT CORNER’S THE KITCHEN… FULL-SIZE JACUZZI ON THAT SIDE, OBVIOUSLY…”

“I have six dollars,” Mabel piped up.

Bill laughed before he could stop himself. Encouraged, she went on: “I mean, there’s an empty fish tank and a car battery in the garage. We could make a hole in the side and stick a blowdryer in there for a jet. That’d be fine, right?”

He laughed again. “I LIKE WHERE YOUR HEAD’S AT, KID. IF WE SHUT OFF THE SPRINKLERS, WE COULD SET UP A FIRE PIT IN THE KITCHEN CORNER!”

“Perfect plan!” Mabel laughed along with him, but then seemed to think better of it. “But okay, hold on, we can start with the home renovations later. For now, you should eat.” She pointed to the plate. “It’s just some leftovers from tonight. Figured taking more snacks would look suspicious. But if it, uh… disagrees with you… then just let me know tomorrow.”

That wasn’t a glowing review. Looking dubiously at the alleged “food” on the plate, he didn’t see much reason to doubt it. Still, he tried to look grateful as he picked up a plastic fork. “WILL DO,” he said, trying not to look down.

“I’ll come back down tomorrow, before the others wake up,” she said, crossing back over to the door. “Including Grunkle Ford… ugh, that’s gonna suck. But once I’m back, we’ll figure out a plan, okay?”

Bill glanced around the room. “I THOUGHT THIS WAS THE PLAN,” he said.

“C’mon, you can’t just stay in one tiny dark room all summer! This isn’t Guacamole or something.”

Bill snorted. “GUANTANAMO?”

“Whatever,” she said, flushing. “The point is we need to get you outside once in a while. You have scales, things with scales need sunlight or they get sick. And what’s the point of all this work if you get sick and die??”

She had a point there. Bill shifted uncomfortably, realizing he wasn’t totally sure if the sun thing would apply to him or not. “YEAH, FAIR ENOUGH. KEEP FORGETTING THIS…” he gestured to the body, “…THING NEEDS ‘VITAMINS’ AND SUCHLIKE.”

“Relatable, honestly. But there’s a bunch more stuff to plan out, too! We need to be able to contact each other in emergencies. And, like, a secret knock so you know when it’s me, and a code to communicate…” as she spoke, her hands started flapping with excitement. “Oh my gosh, it’s like one of those spy games Dipper likes. We could make a guidebook with all this stuff! Like a, what, codex? For the code? We could make our own code! You can handle that part— I know that’s your thing, it’s literally your name… I get to do all the art, though. It can have a scrapbook vibe— I gotta find my craft scissors with the zig-zags—”

“KID.” Bill cut her off. “I KNOW IT’S IN YOUR NATURE NOT TO TAKE STUFF SERIOUSLY. IT’S A GOOD TRAIT! MAKES LIFE A LOT MORE BEARABLE. BUT THIS ISN’T SOME SILLY SUMMER CRAFT PROJECT. THIS IS LIFE OR DEATH, GOT IT? CAN WE TRY TO ACT LIKE IT’S IMPORTANT?”

She looked hurt. “Silly things are still important,” she muttered. “We could hide it in here. And even if someone finds it, it could be any goofy old thing I made! Dipper showed me how to do that invisible ink thing; I could act like the empty space is just unfinished parts! I dunno, I just… I thought it’d make this whole thing a little more fun.”

Bill squinted at her as she stared at the floor, arms crossed tight over her chest. Then he rolled his eye. Maybe he was being a choosing beggar here. This was Mabel Pines; of course she’d want to make some stupid game out of this. And the whole plan was to humor her. If this was what it took to keep her invested, he should probably just play along.

“OKAY, FINE. I’M IN,” he sighed. “WE CAN MAKE A BOOK OR WHATEVER.”

She lit up again. “Really?? Yes! Awesome! It’ll be so fun, I promise.” She paused and glanced at the dark window. “But we can start that later. I gotta go get at least a tiny bit of sleep first.”

Bill shrugged. “SURE. CAN’T KEEP THIS BODY ALIVE IF YOURS GIVES OUT.”

“Thanks for the concern,” she snorted. “And see you in the morning.” She gave a quick wave before shutting the door behind her.

Watching the door, he heard the heavy “clunk” of the lock clicking shut, then rapid footsteps bounding up the staircase. He sighed and pinched his forehead. That much youthful energy couldn’t be sustainable. She probably wouldn’t live past 20.

As he waited for the various noises and occupants of the house to settle, he wolfed down the food as fast as he could. The kid was right to be apologetic, but if he ate quickly, he didn’t taste it much. It was just fuel anyway.

When the plate was finally empty, he dropped it back to the floor and picked up the plastic fork. He rinsed it in the sink as well as he could, wiped it dry with the paper napkin that came with the set, then bent one of the tines away from the others. He leaned one side against the crack in the door, listening intently to the silence from above. There wasn’t a whisper of movement.

He stuck the tine of the fork into the lock.

It was more stubborn than your typical household lock, but Bill had bested much worse with much less. It only took a little finagling before he heard the “clunk” he was listening for. Slowly, cautiously, he eased the door open. The hallway was dark and empty. He stashed his impromptu lockpick in his hat, locked the door behind him, and crept up into the house.

—-

The place was as quiet and dark as he’d hoped for. He’d been right to judge by the footsteps above him that they’d all gone to bed. And thankfully, even without his usual glow, the stars outside were bright enough to see by. He crept along with his back against the wall, testing each floorboard before he stepped, scanning his surroundings.

The decor was about the same as he remembered, with a few notable changes. A lot of the ceiling and walls had been replaced; probably necessary after they turned it into a big stupid robot last year. And it seemed like someone else might have moved in. There were some new decorations that weren't anything close to the “style” he’d come to expect from the place. Lace doilies hung from the tops of chairs and sofas like dusty cobwebs, and handmade blankets and wall hangings were scattered all around. Shooting Star was crafty, sure, but these didn’t look like her handiwork. The colors were way too easy on the eye, and there wasn’t a crumb of glitter to be seen. If they were her doing, they were a big step down in quality.

But if they weren’t, it meant an extra person to deal with. Better keep his eye out.

He turned a corner and a massive shape blotted out the hallway ahead. He scrambled back, clenching his teeth tight beneath his eyelids to stop a yell from escaping.

Then his eye adjusted, and he had to stifle an irritated growl. It was just that stupid pig. He’d forgotten how huge it was now, and it looked a lot less pathetic from a low angle. It was sitting in the middle of the floor, directly in his path, staring down at him. Its eyes glittered in the moonlight like two tiny black teeth.

Bill glared up at it defiantly. Just let it try and make a move. He might not have magic, but he still had claws and teeth. A ripped throat wasn’t as flashy as immolation, but it was still perfectly fatal.

The pig returned his stare with no discernable expression. A few silent seconds crept by.

Then the pig gave a grumbly snort and laid its head on the ground. It flopped onto one side and closed its eyes with an indifferent sigh.

Bill hurried on, telling himself to thank his lucky stars instead of feeling indignant. Still, his ego stung a little. Not even livestock saw him as a threat anymore.

To his relief, he had no more surprise encounters as he cased the second floor. The layout of the rooms was about the same as before, which meant the sounds of walking from above his little home base would still be a reliable method of tracking the inhabitants. He steered well clear of all the bedrooms and kept his back to the wall, and the floorboards beneath him kept silent. He was out of practice with walking, sure, but nobody who grew up causing problems ever forgets how to sneak through a hallway.

Once he’d made mental notes of all the storage spaces that might have supplies he could use, he headed for the portal. On the way through the gift shop he snagged a small notepad and pen from behind the desk. Scanning over the portal wreckage, he made a list of the missing components and tools he’d need. In code, obviously; secret codes were literally his name, after all.

Once the darkness outside started to lift away, he cut his work short and headed back. He tore the used page from the notebook and placed it and the pen back where he’d found them, exchanging them for a single paperclip that he stashed in his hat with the paper. That was all he felt comfortable taking for now. It was much too early to start gathering supplies. Anything left out of place would definitely make the kid suspicious. For now, he’d just plan. Make sure everything went as smoothly as it possibly could. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get all the power tools and steel he’d need down to the basement without being noticed, but there was no point freaking out about it now. He’d figure out logistics later. He could pull this off. He was going to pull this off. He had no other choice.

By the time the first pink rays of light had breached the horizon, he was back in the cell. The paperclip made a perfectly serviceable lockpick to latch the door behind him. Like nothing ever happened.

He curled up in his nest of blankets, trying to hold his eye open. Hoping to ward off the dreams a little longer. But eventually his exhaustion won the battle. His eye slid shut.

Maybe the next dream would at least be over quick.

—-

Bill’s wish came true. As soon as he jolted awake, he regretted making it. It felt like he’d been yanked out of a tar pit by his eyelashes, but his brain stayed behind. His head, chest and eye socket all felt like they were stuffed with wet cotton, and his bones were shaking with this sudden painful chill. His thoughts were so slow and muffled that it took a second for him to even realize that someone was staring him right in the face. He lurched away and fell backwards off the beanbag.

Mabel poked her head over the beanbag and beamed down at where he lay on the floor in a tangle of blankets. “Morning!” she said in a bright half-whisper. “How’d you sleep?”

Bill glared up at her with silent disdain. After a moment, she seemed to take that as an answer. “Yeah, me too. Had a lot of stress dreams. Anyway, time to figure some stuff out.”

She disappeared from view for a moment, then reappeared at his side with a fuzzy pink notebook and a chunky pink pen with a glittery pom-pom topper. She leafed through the book for a minute, then looked up at Bill. “You ok?”

“I’M DYING,” Bill croaked. It was barely hyperbole. That freezing, sinking pain just kept getting worse. Every second he kept his eye open, it felt like gravity increased tenfold.

Mabel hissed through her teeth. “Hold on a second.” She vanished from view again, then popped back in with a mason jar full of what looked like the fluid from inside a neon pink glowstick. She propped him upright and shoved it into his hands. “Drink this.”

Bill ought to have been at least a little suspicious of a drink presented so vaguely. But a billion years of drinking cocktails made from substances meant to power quantum reactions, combined with the weight of sheer exhaustion muffling all his thoughts, meant that he barely hesitated before lifting the jar to his eyelids and taking a gulp.

A second later, his eye shot wide open. “WHOA!” he shouted, blinking rapidly.

“Ooh, I might’ve put too many pop rocks in that batch,” Mabel said. She grabbed the jar and shook it, sending frozen fruit shapes and plastic dinosaurs clattering around in a glittery whirlpool. “Mixing it usually helps. Dipper keeps telling me to warn people before I give them this stuff—”

Bill grabbed the jar back. He took an approving glance at the crazy-looking drink— now that his brain was working, he could fully appreciate the vibe— and then knocked back another mouthful. A rush of energy buzzed through his brain, setting his neurons alight like christmas lights hooked up to a nuclear reactor. The dangerously sugary concoction stung the inside of his mouth like acid, but this was a fun kind of pain. “OH, THIS IS PHENOMENAL.”

Mabel’s face lit up. “You like it??”

“DO I?!” One more swig and the jar was empty, and Bill was actually bouncing in place a little. “I FEEL LIKE A WHOLE NEW TRIANGLE! WHAT IS THAT?!”

“It’s Mabel Juice!” she beamed. “My own personal secret recipe! It’s so secret, not even I know what the secret is! Seriously, I hardly ever write the ingredients down.”

Bill laughed. “WELL, COLOR ME IMPRESSED, KID! I HAVEN’T HAD A DRINK THAT GOOD SINCE THAT BATTERY ACID DAQUIRI I MIXED BACK IN THE ‘30s. AND THIS ONE DIDN’T EVEN DISSOLVE MY STOMACH!”

Mabel’s smile dropped for a second, then returned. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” she said proudly. “I’ll bring more down later. I’ve got a million different brews you can try! The others don’t drink much of it, they always complain about how there’s ‘so much sugar’ and it ‘burns their mouths’ or whatever…”

“HEY, THEIR LOSS! I’LL TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS! EXTRA BURNING ON THE SIDE, IF YOU’VE GOT IT,” Bill offered. He had to hand it to the kid; she made pouring on the charm pretty easy. In a better world, he would’ve hired her as a barista in the Fearamid.

Mabel grinned, but then her face froze. From somewhere upstairs, the familiar sound of heavy, clomping footsteps rang through the ceiling.

Bill froze in place too, his eye locked on the ceiling. His teeth clenched tight behind his eye socket as he tried to repress his anger. Like a favorite song after you set it as your morning alarm, that sound made his blood boil on contact.

“Grunkle Ford’s up,” Mabel whispered. Bill glanced over to see her watching the ceiling too. “I thought he’d at least sleep ‘til five…”

“RISKY GAMBLE THERE,” Bill muttered. “FORD DOESN’T HAVE A SLEEP SCHEDULE, HE JUST WORKS ‘TIL HE KEELS OVER.”

“He’s working on it,” Mabel said defensively. Maybe Bill hadn’t kept all the derision out of his voice. He kept his mouth shut, just to be safe.

“Okay. Alright. This is fine.” The kid was clearly reassuring herself more than him. “He shouldn’t hear us down here. Nobody heard you screaming your head off the other day, they shouldn’t hear us just talking… we should be fine for now. As long as he doesn’t wander down here and happen to just randomly get close to this room. Or wander upstairs to his office and pass our bedroom and happen to look in and notice I’m not there. So as long as he stays on the exact floor he’s on now, we’ll be okay…”

“KID, RELAX. YOU SOUND LIKE PINETREE,” Bill laughed. “WITH HOW LOUD THOSE STEPS ARE, WE’LL HAVE A TON OF WARNING IF HE HEADS FOR ANY STAIRS. JUST CUT TO THE CHASE SO YOU DIDN’T WAKE ME UP FOR NOTHING.”

She shot another worried glance at the ceiling, then nodded. “Okay. Sure. The chase… hold on.” She grabbed her notepad and pen again, then started rooting around for something else in the backpack she’d brought. “The Chase, part one. Secret messages. Ooh, that’s good.” She opened the book and labeled the first page with that title. Bill bit his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that huge pink bubble letters weren’t the best choice for subtlety.

“Now,” she said, throwing the notebook down like a frazzled detective presenting her notes. “I would’ve loved to, like, build a two-way radio out of soda cans, or find a way to send smoke signals through the A/C system or something. But I think we should wait on that ‘til later. Right now, simplicity’s the name of the game.” With a victorious flourish, she revealed the thing she’d fished out of the bag. It took a second for Bill to parse what the battered old thing even was. A cell phone. An ancient, blocky brick of a flip-screen cell phone.

“YEESH!” he exclaimed as she shoved it into his hands. “WHAT ANCIENT BURIAL GROUND DIDJA DIG THIS THING OUT OF? IT’S OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR DAD!”

Mabel snorted. “Give me a break! It was the best one I could find in the closet where Grunkle Stan keeps all his burner phones.”

“WELL, I’D HATE TO SEE THE COMPETITION!” Bill remarked. “WHAT WAS THE WORST ONE, A CLAY TABLET? A BONE CARVED FLUTE TO CALL THE NEANDERTHAL TRIBE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN?”

Mabel hid a giggle behind the turtleneck of her sweater. All according to plan. Jokes were a great way of lowering a mark’s defenses, even if they didn’t land. And despite her best efforts, Shooting Star was a good audience.

He held down the power button and marvelled as the dusty, scuffed screen actually lit up. “WHAAAT! LOOK AT THIS LOGO! THIS COMPANY WENT UNDER IN 2002! THE CEO BURNED DOWN THE OFFICE TO HIDE TAX FRAUD AND MELTED HIS EYELIDS OFF!”

Mabel clapped her hands over her ears. “Ugh!! Why would you tell me that?”

“BECAUSE IT’S HILARIOUS! THE GUY WAS A TOTAL LOSER ANYWAY, HE WAS TOO UPTIGHT TO TAKE MY DEAL AND COULDN’T EVEN HANDLE A WEEK OF NIGHT TERRORS BEFORE HE CRACKED—”

“Anyway!” She cut him off. “This was the only phone I found in the closet that could send texts. We need to be able to keep in touch, so you can let me know if you’re hurt or need more supplies, and I can warn you if people upstairs can hear you practicing your evil laugh or something.”

“WHA— HEY! WHO EVEN— NOBODY NEEDS TO PRACTICE THEIR LAUGH, THAT’S JUST STUPID.” Bill hoped he didn’t sound too defensive. There was no way she actually knew about that, right?

She just rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. “Point is, that phone is yours. Nobody’ll recognize that number. My number’s in there already, you can text me in morse code if you need something.”

Bill looked up from the phone screen to squint at her. “MORSE? C’MON, KID.”

“What’s wrong with morse?”

“THAT’S THE MOST BASIC CODE IN EXISTENCE! YOU REALLY THINK ANYBODY IN THIS HOUSE WOULDN’T RECOGNIZE MORSE WHEN THEY SAW IT?” he said. “YOU THINK THEY’LL SEE YOU ANSWERING TEXTS IN MORSE FROM SOME RANDOM NUMBER AND HAVE ANY OTHER THOUGHT BESIDES ‘SHE’S HIDING SOMETHING’?”

Mabel sighed. “Okay, fine, Mr. Code Snob. What should we use?”

“WE SHOULDN’T ‘USE’ ANYTHING. WE JUST KEEP THINGS VAGUE AND SIMPLE,” he said. “ANYTHING THAT EVEN LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT BE CODE WILL JUST GET PEOPLE’S ATTENTION. BESIDES, IN A HOUSE FULL OF CON ARTISTS AND MYSTERY DORKS, I DOUBT THERE’S ANY CODE WE COULD USE ON THIS THING THAT NONE OF THEM WILL RECOGNIZE. THESE TEXTS NEED TO BE AS BORING AND UN-MYSTERIOUS AS THEY CAN POSSIBLY BE. SO BORING THAT NOT EVEN PINETREE IN HIS SNOOPIEST MOOD WOULD GLANCE AT ‘EM TWICE.”

Mabel pursed her lips. “Spam!” she said after a minute. “Dipper and I get spam texts from random numbers all the time. We can make up a system where I know what you’re saying based on what you’re trying to sell me. Like a scam alphabet!”

Bill’s eye crinkled with his version of a grin. “NOW YOU’RE TALKING!”

Mabel grabbed her pen and started rattling off scams to list in her notebook. Stan had clearly taught her well, and between the both of them they soon had a massive list to work from. On the opposite page, they listed phrases to match with each scam. ��NEED FOOD”, “NEED SUPPLIES”, “INJURY”, “FIRE”, “RACCOON GOT IN”, and so on. As soon as they had a workable “alphabet”, the kid insisted they start deciding on secret knocks. They’d just started to argue about whether “shave-and-a-haircut” was too uncreative, when suddenly Mabel stopped short and held out a hand. Before Bill could ask what was up, he realized what she’d heard. A voice from upstairs. A voice that was much too prepubescent to be Ford’s.

“Dipper’s up,” Mabel hissed. “Why is Dipper up? He never gets up this early on his own… Did he notice I was gone? Is he looking for me?? How am I gonna get back up without—”

“GEEZ, RELAX,” Bill said. “LOOK, THE STAIRCASE TO THE ATTIC IS RIGHT ACROSS FROM THIS ONE. JUST WAIT UNTIL HE’S IN THE KITCHEN…” he pointed to that corner of the house, from where Ford’s voice was now ringing through the ceiling, “AND YOU CAN SNEAK BACK UP WITHOUT BUMPING INTO HIM. JUST DON’T LET HIM SEE YOU LEAVING THE BASEMENT, AND WE’LL BE FINE.”

“I don’t like how much you know about our house.”

Bill pointed to his eye. “REMEMBER HOW HALF THE DECOR IN HERE USED TO BE MY EYES?”

“Yeah, duh. Doesn’t mean it’s not creepy.” She shuddered, and Bill tried not to laugh. At least the memory of his powers still inspired fear… but he didn’t want her knowing how happy that made him.

Mabel gathered up her stuff and headed for the door. “I gotta go before he notices I’m not sleeping. Soon as I get a chance, I’ll sneak back down and we’ll sort out the other stuff on my checklist.”

“FAIR ENOUGH. BE SEEING YOU, KID.” He couldn’t resist putting a little extra emphasis on that word, pointing to his eye again with a smug, half-lidded smile. Shooting Star was his ally for now, sure. But she shouldn’t forget where things really stood. He was the one who was really in control here.

“And I’ll use the We Will Rock You knock.”

“UGH, COME ON!” Bill protested. “I’M TELLING YOU, SHAVE-AND-A-HAIRCUT IS THE GO-TO FOR A REASON, IT’S PRACTICAL—“

“See ya later!” She winked and vanished through the door. The lock clicked heavily into place.

Bill glared daggers at the door until the sound of footsteps had faded away. Then he took off his hat and rifled through the lining, taking a reassuring glance at his folded-up notes. And the paper clip fastening them in place. That dumb kid put way too much trust in that lock. Did she really not realize the danger she’d let into her house? Did she really not know what she was dealing with?

His eye was drawn in by a soft gleam from deep within the hat. He brushed some fabric aside and stared at the fragment of his dimension. It caught the dim light in the room and threw it back much brighter, twisted into colors that didn’t exist anymore. It hurt to look at it with this new eye. He let his gaze rest on it longer than he should have.

Then he tore his eye away and shoved the hat back on. No, she definitely didn’t know. The fact he was still here— still alive— was proof enough of that.

#gravity falls #mabel’s guide to the power of friendship #bill & mabel friendship au #bill cipher #mabel pines #euclydia #milleniart #robin writes stuff

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sunderwight · 3 months ago

Text

Solo Leveling AU where Jinah is the older sibling who has to try and earn a living to keep her comatose mother and high school age brother afloat, and awakens as a hunter and then unlocks the leveling skill.

Thoughts:

-Jinah awakens as an E-rank healer. This, combined with her being a woman, means the flavor of scorn she gets is distinctly different from Jinwoo's experience. Healers are still in enough demand that she doesn't struggle to find work, but her abilities are not miraculous enough that she can just magic most wounds back together and call it a day. She applies her interest in medicine and first aid training to doing actual battlefield medic work on top of her magic, but she's still overworked and exposed to a lot of horrific outcomes and often blamed if the healing doesn't stick.

-Songyi is still an E-rank hunter the same age as Jinah (though this makes her older than in canon, since they're both young adults instead of teens) and narratively replaces Joohee, while also filling more of Jinwoo's original role as the E-rank combatant who is always getting injured. She and Jinah tend to go on missions together as they both view it as their self-appointed responsibility to ensure that the other doesn't die.

-When the double dungeon happens, they work together to figure out the statues, but Songyi gets too badly hurt for Jinah to heal and Jinah loses a leg. Song Chiyul can only carry one of them out, and Jinah tells him to take Songyi because she herself is going to die from blood loss before a rescue team can reach them in time.

-When she unlocks the leveling ability, Jinah is much more suspicious of the system than Jinwoo. She observes more of the fact that it will punish her for not doing what it wants, than that it is making her stronger, but it does still provide her key advantages to doing what she actually needs to do. She invests in healing and stealth traits, largely ignoring the main combat skills at first, since her ultimate goal is to find a cure for her mother. Plus she's a gamer, she knows how OP a good support class can be.

-Jinwoo is in high school. Joohee is his friend who recently awakened as a B-rank healer, but is reluctant to become a hunter. Jinah encourages her to study medicine instead, since healing skills have a lot of applications outside of dungeons.

-Of course, Jinwoo desperately wants to help support his family, so Jinah is frequently deterring him from dropping out of his school to try and get a job, and assuring him that she doesn't actually face much danger in any dungeons, since she's a healer and stays at the back. He doesn't take her stay in the hospital well at all.

-Because she's a healer, Jinah doesn't really Solo Level that much. It's far easier for her to grind exp by just going along on official raids and healing people. In the clutch, other hunters rarely understand the differences in healing ranks, especially the low-level ones, who are usually just grateful enough to have not lost a limb or bled out to understand that they were hit with a powerful spell rather than just being "lucky" about a blow missing something vital. Jinah still does plenty of first aid as well to make things seem more plausible.

-Of course, this does mean she has more trouble in the solo dungeons. Fortunately, a lot of the skills that work well for healers also work for mages, and stealth skills have a wide variety of applications that make other dungeons safer for her too. She also develops a keen interest in alchemy and how the system will let her combine various materials to craft potions. She discovers a recipe for crafting "lures" that will draw monster aggro, allowing her to position them away from her and deter attacks, and potions that let her imbue others with temporary stealth so that she can hide injured hunters, as well as miraculous cures, stamina boosts, mana rejuvenation elixirs, and so on.

-She tells people they're electrolyte drinks and hands a lot of them out to other hunters on the job. This almost comes back to bite her in the ass with Kang Taeshik, but he doesn't actually drink what she gives him, so thankfully he doesn't receive a stat boost before he goes on his killing spree. After that she reflects on the matter and resolves to be more careful.

-The fact that healers are just kind of mysterious in terms of mechanics to even other hunters, means Jinah can fly under the radar for way longer than Jinwoo did. She doesn't have to solve emergency situations by personally fighting, she can just buff everyone else's stats to the equivalent of a higher rank or two and only the really observant ones even suspect that it was more than just their own luck & skill that carried the day. Even the observant ones just suspect she might have reawakened as a higher ranked healer.

-Also, because she's focused on mage class skills and mana manipulation, she has more control over her mana as she levels up than Jinwoo did. This means she's not constantly giving off undesired Badass Aura 24/7, and when she decides to retake the hunter test to get a new official certification for her rank, she can manipulate how much mana she allows the test to read and tops it out at A-rank. Perfectly serviceable for her needs, many A-rank healers do also go along on S-rank raids because S-rank healers are so rare, but it keeps her and her family out of the news (apart from the miracle cure of her mom waking up).

-Jinah also wants to figure out how to treat people suffering from magically-induced diseases and complications to magic exposure, not just get a one-time fix, so she figures out how to replicate the cure's effects and then just quietly cures everyone else in the same ward over the course of a few nights visiting. Then the news is that several people miraculously woke up, not just her mom. Getting back into the medical field officially is more of a focus for her, so that she can start presenting her discoveries and samples through official networks.

-But, because she's kept herself more successfully off the radar, it happens that even though she gets involved with the big Jeju raid from the beginning, the organizers put her on the second line of defense at sea to block off the flying ants retreating from the island, rather than with the main strike force. After all she's A-rank support, not suitable for an S-rank strike team of such a high level. So she still only arrives after shit has hit the fan and she realizes things have gone and that she needs to use her shadows and get in there.

-When Jinah gets into the battlefield, everyone thinks Byung-gu's ghost is healing them or some shit, because she is NOT walking out on camera to personally fight that fucking ant herself thank you very much. No one knows where those shadow warriors are coming from either and she's keeping it that way as long as possible. She rescues the Korean S-rank squad, heals Ha Chae-in, and buffs the hell out of President Baek so he can kill Beru himself and chalk it up to grief-fueled adrenaline or divine intervention or whatever he likes.

-She does still resurrect Beru. Which is a good thing because her shadow army is sorely lacking compared to Jinwoo's. She watches television shows with him sometimes. He's very curious about learning new languages and he likes period dramas with royalty, of course. Jinwoo worries he's going a little bit nuts because sometimes he'd swear her sees eyes watching him from shadows these days, but it always seems to be a trick of the light.

-Also, Songyi knows Jinah's secret and is kind of jealous about it, but wants to figure out if there are other ways for hunters to unlock the system or gain some kind of leveling ability. She lets Jinah test buffs and things out on her, and being more of a brawler, she ironically draws a lot more attention and suspicions of being some kind of false ranker through her conduct. This works out in a kind of boy who cried wolf way, as allegations against Songyi are easily disproved (since she's ultimately still just an E-rank and tests as such), and Woo Jinchul is starting to think there's just some kind of sexism based issue going on in the freelance hunting squads, that he keeps getting called out to asses young lady hunters for allegedly being "too strong".

#solo leveling #that's all I got for now #long post #jinwoo holding a magical cure-all potion: I'm gonna cure my mom #jinah sneaking into a medical lab under cover of night with the same potion: i'm gonna cure everybody

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