#FOR EXAMPLE. SHARD RAINS

[checkadii]

mfs do anything but finish their wips . like startign another, for example

[thedubiousdallon]

What's up everyone it's sympathy for Cradle time.

There's a very specific experience I relate to very strongly where a certain behavior that is essential to living a healthy, moral life in society exists that Most People can seemingly do on instinct or without effort that you simply cannot. For Cradle, that is Care About Other People.

And when you don't have the Instinct that everyone else seems to, often people simply can't fathom that you don't have it, let alone even try to help you learn the Behavior. Very often, you have to meticulously construct the Behavior from first principles, and before you can do that, you have to recognize why the thing you are failing to do even matters! It is a long, extremely difficult process, and it's one that you can rarely talk about or receive acknowledgement for from others because to them it can seem like you're just bitching and moaning about how Hard it is to Do the Easiest Thing/Be a Decent Human Being, or worse, like you're asking for a prize for doing the bare minimum.

Ryan figured out how to care about and have positive relationships with other people, and it took him years, and being honest about that damaged his relationship with those people irreparably, but he did it anyway and he's fucking proud of it! The world ended but he held onto his care and his connections and he's proud of it! And good on him for being proud honestly!

Something I imagine that a lot of neurodivergent people have experienced is an outside force that abruptly and almost inexplicably renders a major coping mechanism ineffective. It is a disorienting, terrifying experience, because this thing that you worked very hard to figure out and which you have built so much of your life upon has suddenly stopped working and everything on top of it is suddenly collapsing and you barely know why and you definitely don't know what to do! It makes you desperate, and it very often pushes you to do things that are deeply counterproductive.

The trauma of his trigger and the emotional cluster bleed completely destabilizes Ryan's framework. All of his strategies and coping mechanisms are built on his understanding of his own emotional reactions, and those have been radically, maybe permanently, altered in ways both covert (trauma) and overt (cluster bleed) and he feels his entire life collapsing as a result. Both of those factors are very easy to blame on Rain. Throw in the fact that killing his cluster seems like it might fix his emotions, throw in the fact that his shard is ramping up his aggression towards all of them, throw in the fact that he already believes himself to be a monster because of his neurodivergence and the actions he took before he had figured out how to value other people's well-being, and it's so, so easy for Cradle to turn to the behavior he does, and in so doing, cause the actual irreparable harm to himself and others that he is trying to prevent.

Because that's the tragedy, the very real tragedy, that underlines Cradle for me. When a load bearing coping mechanism fails, so often the best thing to do is nothing. Endure the panic, endure the collapse, try to find calm, and reach out to people you trust with more objectivity than you to get help figuring out what to do next. But that is so, so hard to do even in relatively mundane examples, so hard to even consider as a possibility. In Ryan's circumstances? He had no chance. He was never going to be able to rebuild without help, and the way he reacted meant he was never going to get that help.

[playstationvii]

#SamuraiSkirts #MOBA

Expanding on the gameplay of SamuraiSkirts, a MOBA (Multiplayer Online Battle Arena) game, involves a deep dive into its mechanics, world-building, and strategic nuances. Here's a more detailed exploration:

Game World and Lore

Setting:

SamuraiSkirts takes place across a multiverse of arenas inspired by historical and fantastical Asian cultures. Players battle in environments like:

The Ghost Town Shinto Shrine (a haunted ruin of ancient Japan).

The Crystal Pagoda (a floating battleground filled with fragile crystal pathways).

The Midnight Sakura Gardens (a maze of blossoming trees and hidden ambush points).

Each map introduces unique hazards—e.g., the shrine’s crumbling floors or the garden’s stealth-friendly foliage.

Faction Lore:

Players align with factions like the Four Winds (Fire, Water, Earth, Air) or Mythical Blades Guild, influencing their abilities and unlocking special items tied to their chosen faction.

Gameplay Mechanics

Battle Doll Classes:

Each Battle Doll belongs to one of six main classes, each with strengths, weaknesses, and customization options:

Samurai: Fast, dual-wielding warriors with devastating mobility-based attacks.

Cleric: Healers and support units capable of boosting allies and disrupting enemies.

Mage: Ranged attackers with high-damage spells and area control.

Assassin: Stealthy, high-damage characters who excel at surprise attacks.

Tank: Durable front-liners with crowd control and shield-based defenses.

Round Class: Versatile fighters who adapt to melee, ranged, and mid-range combat.

Customization:

Players equip their Battle Dolls with DressBlades (like Bebe’s Blade of Fire), Battle Accessories, and DressSpheres to enhance stats and unlock unique abilities.

Cosmetic options (e.g., skins, voice packs, emotes) personalize each doll.

Combat Features:

Lane Strategy: Teams are divided into lanes (top, mid, bot) and jungle zones, requiring coordination to control resources and objectives.

Dynamic Objectives: Maps include objectives like:

Capturing ancient shrines to summon a temporary ally.

Securing "wind gates" that provide mobility buffs.

Skill Combos: Each class has skill chains that can be combined with allies’ abilities for powerful effects (e.g., a Mage freezing enemies while a Samurai delivers a finishing blow).

Progression and Strategy

Leveling Up:

Players earn XP by defeating enemy dolls, minions, and completing objectives.

Each match allows for in-game skill tree progression, letting players adapt their playstyle mid-battle.

Item Economy:

Collect Elemental Shards and Mythic Coins during matches to purchase gear upgrades and potions.

Specialized items, like Sacred Wards or Blade Enhancers, can turn the tide of battle.

Team Coordination:

Victory depends on team synergy:

Tanks initiate fights, absorbing damage.

Assassins flank enemy backlines.

Clerics maintain healing zones and buffs.

Unique Gameplay Features

Summons and Champions:

Players can summon legendary NPCs or creatures from the game’s lore, like Phoenix of Fire or Koi Dragon of Water.

Summons temporarily shift the battlefield dynamics, forcing enemies to adapt.

Dynamic Weather:

Certain maps have real-time weather effects that impact gameplay:

Rain reduces visibility and boosts water-based attacks.

Windstorms scatter projectiles and open secret pathways.

Replay Mode:

A cinematic replay system allows players to review their matches with customizable camera angles and editing tools for content creation.

Expanded Example Match

The team of Skitts continues in their queue. After their first victory, they are matched against another team of equal skill. The match begins in the Crystal Pagoda.

Opening Strategy:

Bebe's Sakura Blade Asterid takes the mid-lane to face an enemy Mage.

Nikkia Belle’s Round Class moves to the top lane with TVD’s Samurai to apply pressure.

Chloe's Cleric and IshiiORen2.0 support the bot lane, securing early objectives.

Mid-Game Chaos:

The enemy team activates a Wind Gate, enabling their Assassin to leap between lanes and ambush Nikkia.

Bebe counteracts by using her Fire Wave Ultimate, dealing massive damage and forcing a retreat.

Climactic Finish:

With both teams neck-and-neck, the Phoenix of Fire objective spawns.

Bebe’s team fights off waves of minions while IshiiORen2.0 heals the squad.

The final blow is landed by Bebe’s DressBlade, unleashing a fiery explosion that wins them the match.

SamuraiSkirts seamlessly blends strategy, customization, and lore to create a rich MOBA experience. What other features or expansions would you like to explore? Perhaps a story mode or eSports potential?

[light-wynd]

Random Melusine info/headcanon dump

Because why not.

Everything under the cut because it's a bit long ^^' Most of the canon facts hopefully aren't super common knowledge, and are ones that I don't think I've brought up before either!

Canon random facts about Melusines

They are "the finest example of a new sort of Hydro Vishap species" according to Neuvillette.

They all seem to be drawn to shiny mechanical components, not just the ones living in Merusea Village who pretty much use them as currency. Sigewinne has apparently collected so many that she's running out of storage space in the Fortress, and Xana (the one you can exchange them for items with in the village) plans to build a giant machine out of her own collection.

Aeval's token that she was born with is a shard of a sword, which she thinks represents courage. This also means that their tokens don't necessarily have to be mechanical parts, just seemingly anything that could've pierced inside Elynas during the blast.

The rain feels warm for Melusines, and so most of them enjoy being in it. But Sigewinne for one is concerned about how Neuvillette is feeling whenever it rains.

They tend to find humans adorable, and even know how to take care of human babies (as was the case with Emilie when she was little, apparently).

They're very sensitive to sour-tasting things such as Bulle fruit.

There is a Melusine philharmonic orchestra that performs at the Opera Epiclese.

A lot of Melusines are into astrology, and so Neuvillette basically made up a constellation for himself (from my understanding?) because he didn't have the heart to tell them that he doesn't actually have one.

An Amurta scholar was once expelled from Fontaine for treating Melusines like they were animals (touching and recording them without their permission and trying to feed them, among other things) while trying to study them.

Sigewinne's eyesight is closer to that of humans than Melusines - and when they meet up in her infirmary, sometimes she describes scenery as she sees it for others like Ottnit and Menthe to draw.

Headcanons about Melusines (that gradually get more baseless and/or silly)

They didn't just start studying human expressions and behaviors in order to be able to understand them better - they also wanted to try and learn how to act more like humans in order to make them more likely to accept Melusines. Originally, they used to express themselves quite differently, but that gradually changed as they integrated more and more closely into human society.

Sigewinne has written a guide for hospitals/doctor's offices to have on hand about how to properly care for any sick or injured Melusines, since their constitution is different from that of humans and she can't always be there to personally see them since she's pretty busy at the Fortress.

Their feelers and/or tails (depending on which is wider on the Melusine in question) store excess water. If a Melusine is getting dehydrated, you'll notice these thinning and/or drooping.

Every time Blathine is assigned to patrol her usual area in front of the Opera Epiclese, she has to actively resist the urge to bathe in the Fountain of Lucine like it's some Melusine-sized water park pool (cause you know. Her whole fascination with fountains and all).

[bookwhimses]

rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.

I was tagged by @redgoldblue and egged on to release some of my hideously extensive WIP Doctor Who AU (which is actually a series) from containment, so here is some of that. All but R are from The First Question, the fic covering the events of Season 10; R is from the era covering the events of Seasons 1-4. Out of context spoilers abound.

If you want to read more about The First Question and my Hideously Extensive WIP Doctor Who AU you can go here.

I was given the word TROPE, so I thought it might be fun to provide excerpts which are also examples of a trope.

T[hrown Out Of Airlock]

The Doctor still tries to get Bill’s helmet free of her gloves, completely in vain. To Bill’s left, Freddie is struggling against Dahh-Ren and Ivan’s hold on him, kicking out until his mag-boots light up blue and lock him to the floor, along with everyone else. “Give her my helmet!” he’s shouting, still trying to reach up for it.   7, 6, 5 … “Give her my fucking helmet! I’m not human, I’m lower rank, I’m worth less –” Sound cuts out. The airlock has opened. Space – black, deep, terrifying – opens up in front of Bill’s eyes like a yawning mouth. What little air lingers in her lungs feels like it’s turned to shards of ice, cutting into her insides with each micro-movement. Bill forces her body to relinquish it and it comes out in a puff that disperses. She struggles to breathe back in, but there’s nothing to breathe back in. There’s a mounting pressure in her ears building to a high-pitched hum, and everything is so slow, but her brain – her frightened, useless brain is replaying everything the Doctor said in his lecture on space. “So, how does space kill you? I’m glad you asked.”

R[agtag Bunch of Misfits]

“Right, well, our little crew just gets bigger and bigger,” she half-laughs, obviously trying to shake him out of his reverie. “Dunno what Mum’s gonna say. She’ll probably take her out for a haircut. Do you think we should warn her first?” “I think Addy’s gonna need all the warning she can get before dealing with Jackie Tyler, yeah,” the Doctor grins back at her, and she digs her elbow into him again. “Oi, stop it, you,” she laughs, tongue peeking between her teeth like always as she smiles. “Though if Addy’s not careful she’s gonna find herself dressed up in my old clothes. Mum’s still got boxes of them – oh, no.” Something occurs to her and she snorts again, covering her face with both hands. “What?” Rose looks up in bright-eyed embarrassment, biting her lip. “My Spice Girls phase.”

O[OC Is Serious Business]/OC (it's a two in one!)

“Okay, I won’t,” she agrees. Then she springs another question on him. “How many years you been dealing with this alone?” Freddie looks away, shifting to put his pen into the trouser pocket on his opposite side. “How am I supposed to keep count? It really doesn’t matter. I’m used to it.” Bill is appalled. “That does matter,” she blurts, “that’s – that’s worse.” Freddie says nothing, but he’s acting like putting that pen away involves a seven layer security check. He really is ludicrously soaked. His book is nowhere in sight for once, but water is dripping off his brooch. She doesn’t know how he can even see through his glasses. The rain has loosened the hold of whatever titanium-strength gel he puts in his hair, and there’s a too-red curl dangling over his forehead. It’s like a loose thread. Bill has the maddening urge to pull at it. Maybe more would come out. Maybe his face would do something. 

P[yjama-Clad Hero]

Pull yourself together, pet, says the Missy who lives in Hero’s mind without permission or rental fees. And fix the rat’s nest. They won’t take you seriously looking like you just took an electric pylon to the face.  Hero finger-combs their curls into something that’s hopefully a bit more professional and straightens their hoodie. They glance down at their pyjama pants.  “Nothing doing about that,” they mutter. “It’s fine. Adds a touch of Hitchhiker’s to proceedings.”

E[stablishing Character Moment]

“Excellent.” Weird Boy flashes her a strange, stiff smile, which throws Bill for a loop. “The doctor will see you now.” Bill just blinks at him, even as Weird Boy begins to usher her towards the back kitchen door with petite shooing motions. “The doctor? Sorry, but, hold on a second ...” She stops. “No offence, mate, but what the bloody hell are you on about?” Weird Boy stops. “Ah.” He surprises Bill by smacking himself hard in the forehead so suddenly that she flinches on his behalf. He then continues, as if he didn’t just smack himself in the face, “I do apologise. I always do this, starting things in the middle. It’s confusing when you have to keep in mind that the middle is also the present, but the present isn’t where you should start, the past is. It’s a glitch, I’m working on a patch for it.”

I got tagged twice by different people for this challenge within a short period of time and I have a limited number of other people to tag in return and don't want to risk bothering them by tagging them twice in the same challenge, so I've put two words for the tagees in the second take I've done for this challenge (coming in a minute).

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #5: Stamp

It was raining.

He pointedly ignored the footsteps behind him. They, in their kindness, pointedly did not speak up. Not that there was much to hear over the storm that intensified over their heads. To everyone else it was a moment to hole up, to wait, to keep their heads down in the outskirts. To him it was a sign. A bad one. Good. The electrope tether hummed in his hands as he spun the end of it in rote motion. How far up, this time? His practiced eyes spotted anchor points all the way up the structure. Checking them off like they were a puzzle to solve, like something one might work on over a morning coffee. There wasn’t any need for the shorter hops today. No point in taking a path with the handholds and stopping spots close together. That would be for The tether slammed into the ground as his fist met stone. The blood dripped down his knuckles; the rain washed it off. The pain hadn’t arrived yet, but it was no mercy there. He looked at the exposed, sliced flesh. He flexed his hand, over and over, as if he could grip the half-formed memory that got away from him. Okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. Ignore the extra set of footsteps behind you that’re the wrong ones His other fist hit the stone. Then he picked up his tether.

Putting his climbing claws and boots on was a bit more difficult now. He appreciated the extra time to get rained on, at least, while he was still on the ground. It felt therapeutic in a way that little else could. Indulging in misery in the preparation for something that was supposed to bring him joy. Indulging in rage as his manufactured claws bit into the same stone that he’d used to draw his blood. Better than a fistfight he knew he’d lose. Better than a conversation with someone who understood. The wrong footsteps were still down there. He punched his way through an old window, shattering it in tune to a thunderclap as he hauled his way inside. Even now he couldn’t help but evaluate the insides for valuables, for safety, for picking out the interesting things to give as examples He slumped against the wall. He landed in the shards. He could feel them cut him through his gear. He knew he’d have to clean himself up. Who knew what was on these old windowpanes. He could get infected. …It was so hard to care. Or, rather, he wished it was. He wished it was. That was half the problem, wasn’t it? Forgetting made it so easy to lose your grip on all the other emotions from it. Forgetting made it so easy to pretend everything was fine. It was hard to let his hate pull him down like gravity when it could find no purchase on him. When hate had no barbs with which to anchor. When pain could barely substitute. Self flagellation barely got him anywhere besides a response of hoping it didn’t get infected.

He shifted to bring his bag around to his side. Fished in it for a long moment as if to pretend he didn’t know each and every pocket in it and where everything was- even if he’d thrown it around in a rage before. Even if he’d realized things were missing His bloodied fist closed around a piece of metal and electrope. His regulator flashed to life in the wake of a thunderclap as he held it up in the dark room. But his eyes weren’t on it. A shadow in the lightning flash. “…Galena,” Came the voice of the wrong footsteps. That soft, diffuse green glow of a presence that he’d wished stayed on the ground. The gentle and kind hand that reached out with a comforting touch- His tether snapped taut and yanked him to his feet before it could. Before his eyes could fall on the other. She wasn’t who he wanted to see. That wasn’t the name he wanted to hear She knew it, too. He climbed back out into the rain.

He couldn’t remember reaching the top. It had been struck relatively recently. The old infrastructure not meant to take direct bolts like that, not meant to sustain that kind of damage. Frankly it was impressive the building was still upright with a giant hole blown in the top of it. The rain could get in now. Rot the insides, rust them and corrode them, and slowly warp the structure until it would slam into the earth without warning. He wondered how long it would take. He stared at the regulator in his hand. He wondered how long it would take.

The heel of his boot crunched something metal and worn. The sparks caught like lightning against the wet stone. Like a poor mimicry of rage. Like a half-thought copy of something real. Slop made by a rusted mind. He anchored his tether to the one last support column that could handle his weight.

He leapt from the tower.

[chemicalarospec]

because i have a good memory and read through Nate Stevenson's tumblr at age 13 (the only social media I had at the time was goodreads and I had already read a lot of the Goodreads blog), I know a truly creepy amount of ND Stevenson lore. For example, his first(?) apartment came with a snake. (to my memory the owner had previously lived in the apartment and left the snake there when they started renting? not 100% sure.) Which got loose one day. Later on, there was an era in his life where he would play "November Rain" every night to fall asleep. He used to dream about a boy in striped pajamas he had to rescue and made a tumblr post the night he failed to save him. Years later, he made another post with the dream as a memory, as he had never dreamed about the boy again. When Nimona was ongoing, he once got an anon message saying they had overheard someone talking about his work on a German train, and then a second saying it was probably this anon and their friend. One time, very early on, he made a post like "suddenly struck by the desire to become tumblr famous... how does one do that even? post funny cats? draw fanart?" and he eventually became tumblr famous by drawing fanart. In art school, he used a shard of glass and a lamp as a makeshift light table.

[half-man-half-lime]

I think my Rain O'Fire Frazier hot take is that he's kind of a scapegoat for the collective actions of the Fallen during the mall fire, and if you think about it, that makes him a tragic example of the fact that superpowers make you a main character of society in the Wormverse. (Not getting into how that relates to my opinions on the anti-parahumans, which is a whole other post)

See, he is responsible for countless deaths.... and so are all the other Fallen members who set that fire and penned people in from inside the building. He didn't open the doors when he could have... but others have already pointed out that Seir never told Rain to open the doors, and yelled at him after he didn't, probably as intentional sabotage.

I guess what I'm getting at is that Rain became the omnipresent symbol of all those deaths, of Love Lost's daughter, because he got powers and people noticed, and the shards designed a series of dreams to torment the cluster and leave them without any rest or escape, and placed Rain at the center of those visions.

And there's definitely an irony there, that those dreams are what made Rain question his decisions in the first place, but I don't know what to do with that.

And all of this isn't to say that Rain wasn't that bad in the scheme of things, or that he didn't have responsibility to atone and make up for his actions, it's just... he was really the only one anybody cared about. Not the one who made the calls, not sharing the blame with tens of other goons, just the guy who got attention for it.

And that kinda twists the morality debate, doesn't it? That even though he is morally culpable, the narrative is twisted by the presence of powers to make him the only culprit anyone cares about, including him. Love Lost's daughter rests on his shoulders and nobody else's. He has all this self-reflection about his sins, while everyone else responsible doesn't share that burden and aren't treated like they matter at all.

I mean I guess the Cluster did organize an attack on the entire Fallen because of that, which undercuts the point a little, but, you know, Rain's the only one who got tortured, isn't he?

I don't know what my point is here. Is it that Rain got an unfair deal, or that the finger on the scale against him undercuts his personal growth? Or neither? Not sure.

[le-brave-des-braves]

a dream?

He was standing on the balcony of St. Ludwig's church in his hometown, but the view was different than he remembered - or rather it was ever-shifting, strange buildings, new roads flickering in and out of existence, pathways branching out in a thousand directions. The sky was dark.

The only constant was the eerie quiet. Nobody traversed those paths.

Thunder shook the ground from far away. The air was filled with the strange sound of rain crashing like leaden chains into unfamiliar pavement. From the belfry behind him, a single chime resounded, a D so clear that it stung like seasalt. The tower below him shook, suddenly engulfed by roaring flames. He spread his wings as the railing before him crumbled and took off into the darkness and the barrage of lightning.

He could have landed onto another lonely building, but all of them were doomed to the same fate here. Instead, with several flaps of his wings, he soared up to to where the air was thick with deafening din. He felt his hair rise as bolts of lightning plunged past him to the ground below. Then, shards of ice swirled around him, crashing into each other in a million collisions - and then, it was quiet.

Above the clouds, the sun shone, but its rays brought no warmth. It was peaceful there - but lifeless.

But there were no clouds below him now. Nor was there a town.

Instead, wide fields spread as far as the eye could see. Amid them, a manor stood, encompassed by a park. He thought he glimpsed someone through the window, but his speed made it difficult to know for sure.

Near the pond, under a willow sat a lady, quietly reading a letter. From afar, he saw her silhouette against the glimmering surface of the water fold the note and press it to her heart.

Near-noiselessly, he landed behind the tree and came closer. What was this place?

"Perhaps, one day, we shall meet again," he heard her whisper through the curtain of leaves he was now running towards. "Until then, know that I am safe."

“Aglaé? Aglaé, is that you? Hello?!”

His desperate attempt to reach here has been interrupted by the change of scenery as he woke up sitting at the table in his study right next to a cup of almost cold remains of valerian root tea.

Aglaé was not there. Only the answered pile of letters and the back pain caused by the wings unfolding while he was asleep. He folded them again, resulting in a few loud cracks of the bones that were still new to his body.

Great. There is indeed a back pain in this afterlife, like many other kinds of pain (including some examples of pain in the ass).

“I miss you, mon amour.” He whispered.

[otissbluebearshirt]

I See Red 18+

Chapter 11 - There’s No Place Like Home

Word Count: 7418

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Ever since her birthday, Selina had done nothing but map out each and every square inch of the bunker she called home. She never knew just how big the place actually was, not until her treasure hunt had taken her all over it, showing her rooms she never would have dreamed lay within the walls. 

For example, she’d found over a dozen dust-filled store rooms, each of them littered with scrolls and ancient artefacts, all beyond that which her mind could fully comprehend. She had no idea what most of them were. The Men of Letters didn’t, exactly, have a cataloguing system, and it wasn’t like she could go and Google them either, not when half of them appeared to be cursed in one way or another.  

Because of that, Selina would now spend hours upon hours sorting out what she had uncovered, trying her best to muster up some kind of system in order to try and inventory everything. Meaning she was well on her way to having read every single lore book in the library. And it was totally notbecause she needed to be constantly distracted, otherwise she might call Crowley and take him up on the rain check from last week.

“Isn’t the whole point of… family time, or whatever, to actually spend time with your family?” Dean said, casting an accusatory glance towards Selina, who was standing on the other side of the room with her nose buried inside an old wooden box and her mind focused solely on her demonic addiction.

She really missed Crowley, and she didn’t even care that it had only been a week since she sent him away.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Selina fired back blankly, and without even looking in Dean’s direction as she was too busy admiring a black box with a red skull sitting pretty on the lid. 

This would make for a great jewellery box, she thought to herself, and she subtly set it aside in the pile she’d mentally claimed as her own. Fingers crossed none of it was overly cursed.

“And besides, I hate that movie.”

“The Wizard of Oz is a classic.” Sam defended, his voice slightly muffled as he had just shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Only afterfeeding Kit a few tiny pieces of it because he wouldn't stop trying to steal some.

“Classically creepy,” Selina corrected, scrunching her nose up at the thought of having to sit down and willingly watch it. As much as she loved Henry, who had been the one to suggest it, and as glad as she was that he had stuck around, she wasn’t about to put herself through that nightmare just for him. “No offence, Henry.”

“None taken.” Henry chuckled, much to Selina’s relief. “But I have to say, with what you’ve seen in your life, I don’t quite understand how it can creep you out.”

A fair point, Selina thought, and for a minute, she pondered his words. They made sense, kind of. She hadn’t watched the movie in a good twenty years or so, and since then, she had seen far worse than anything The Wizard of Oz could conjure up. Wendigos. Leviathans. A Golem made out of clay and a bunch of Nazi necromancers… So, perhaps her opinion might change if she gave it a second chance. 

Exhaling deeply through her nose, Selina turned towards the TV with the hope that she might be right. That maybe her mind could open and grow to enjoy one of Henry’s favourite movies as even though they were related, they didn’t have much in common besides the whole legacy thing.

But the second her eyes met the flatscreen, Selina quickly remembered precisely why that movie creeped her out. And it wasn’t the Wicked Witch or her flying monkeys… 

It was the Cowardly Lion.

That’s right, the Cowardly Lion, because, well… Look at him. He was the epitome of creepy and disturbing. And his appearance alone was enough to send such a ferocious shudder down Selina’s spine that she dropped what she’d had in her hands — a large jar filled with a strange, murky substance. 

The jar smashed on impact, sending shards of thick, dust-coated glass scattering across the floor and causing Sam to immediately scoop up Kit so he didn’t run through it and cut his tiny paws. 

The guys stood up and a few seconds later, a wisp of grey smoke erupted from within the spilled contents, wafting up into the air and mimicking that of a tornado. But before any of them could do anything, let alone say anything, it vanished. Just not in the way they would have hoped. 

Now, standing where that darkened cloud had once been, was a pasty, grey-haired old woman in a dark cloak, with reddened eyes and blackened lips. Those who were armed drew their weapons, watching warily as the woman glanced around her briefly and confused, before locking eyes with Selina and making her tilt her head curiously. 

Everything happened so fast after that. The woman raised her hand, extending her long, boney fingers towards Selina and, quicker than she could pull the trigger, sent a blast of green light in her direction. Only, the light never hit Selina as it intended. It hit Henry, who had dived in front of her and taken the full force of the blast which sent him flying backwards, his limp body knocking Selina into the wall behind her, where her head collided with the bricks and everything went dark.

After God knows how long, Selina finally awoke to the softness of the couch beneath her sore and rigid body, rather than the cold, hard ground she was guessing she’d hit after whatever happened… happened. Her head was pounding as she slowly sat up, rubbing her temples and blinking rapidly in attempts to refocus her eyesight, as well as trying to remember what the hell actually did happen.

Only, she couldn’t remember anything. Not anything clear enough to ease her worries anyway. Her mind and everything in it was still a blur, and the only thing that she seemed to recall was finding that black skull box. Did that have something to do with it, she thought to herself? Did she release an ancient demon to wreak havoc onto the world? 

Possibly. If anyone was to end up doing that it would probably be her. 

However, something told her that wasn’t the case here as for starters, she was still alive. She didn’t think that would be the outcome had it been the supreme force of evil she was picturing in her aching head, so here’s hoping that whatever it was was relatively easy to deal with and that her brothers or Henry weren’t lying dead somewhere in the bunker.

And that’s when it hit her. When it all came flooding back. The glass jar. The old woman. The flash of green light. But most importantly, Henry.  

Frantically, and with her chest tightening with each breath she took, Selina began to scan the room, her eyes first passing by the TV, on which the title screen for The Wizard of Oz was constantly repeating. She must have been knocked out for a while if the movie had finished, but she didn’t think much of it. Or rather, she didn’t get a chance to as the minute her eyes shifted left, it was as though her own house had come crashing down on top of her. 

Lying on the couch facing her was Henry, his arm hanging limp over the edge and his eyes closed, appearing outwardly peaceful as though he were only asleep. But Selina had seen enough dead bodies in her lifetime to know that wasn’t the case.

With her heart pounding, Selina scrambled off the couch, not paying any attention to the throbbing of her shin when she smacked it off the coffee table in her hurried attempt to cross the room, her eyes already stinging with tears at the thought of having to burn another father figure. 

“Henry?” Selina’s voice was nothing but a croaked whisper as she fell to her knees, instantly taking Henry’s hand that lay limp in the air and squeezing it tightly, as though hoping that would wake him. Though deep down, she knew nothing would. 

Henry was gone and there wasn’t a thing she could do to fix it. Not when he’d made her promise, made her swear that should he die, she wouldn’t try to bring him back. And as much as Selina had fought him on that, told him it wasn’t in her blood not to try everything she could, Henry had been persistent, and Selina knew why. She knew it was hard for him here, in this time, with the family he knew dead, and the life he once had gone, which is why instead of calling Castiel to bring Henry back, she sank to the floor and did nothing but cry.

When her tears ran dry and her chest couldn’t take the sobs any longer, Selina pulled out her phone and, without even releasing what she was doing, called Crowley. She didn’t give a damn about what she had said last time, or how bad of an idea this might have been. She needed him. She wanted him. Not in the way she usually did, but in the way of comfort. She wanted him to hold her. Soothe her. Do anything he could in order to help ease the overwhelming pain and guilt she felt before it suffocated her. 

And it was suffocating her fast so she really hoped he’d pick up. 

The line rang for a few seconds longer than Selina would have hoped for before Crowley eventually answered, and despite his words, his voice alone was enough to spark an ounce of comfort in her otherwise aching chest.

“Selina, now’s not really a good time. Can I call you…”

“I need to see you.” Selina croaked, in a voice more hollow, more broken than any Crowley had ever heard slip past her lips, and for the first time ever, his heart clenched tightly beneath his ribs.

“What happened?” Crowley asked, worried. He stepped out of the room he’d been in, praying that Selina couldn’t hear the echo of damned souls that surrounded him as he was literally standing in Hell.

Talk about bad timing. And sure, it would have been easy to send her to voicemail, but he never could ignore her when she called.

“Please.” Selina whispered, her tone seeped in desperation yet at the same time, it was nothing. It was so empty that it broke Crowley’s heart, making him want to drop everything he was doing and go to her. Only he couldn’t, and part of her knew that. 

I’ll always come when you call. That was the promise he’d made, yet the space next to her remained empty.

Crowley then went on to utter something about souls and needing an hour before he could come, which was pointless really as Selina wasn’t listening. Instead, she hung up on him and tossed the phone aside, hearing the faint clatter of it skidding across the floor as she pulled her knees up to hug her chest, never once letting go of Henry’s hand.

About five minutes later, Selina heard her name being called and her head shot up, part of her hoping that it was Crowley. That he had abandoned whatever he was doing and had come to her. But it wasn’t. It was only Sam, who was approaching her slowly, carefully, knowing fully well how she got when someone she loved died. He came to stand next to her, crouching down beside her and the second he did, she fell against him and another spell of tears poured from her eyes. 

Sam didn’t know how long they stayed that way, and it wasn’t until Dean entered the room did he finally lift Selina to her feet, where she instantly went limp and fell against him again. He fumbled to hold her up before she slid back down to the floor, Dean rushing to his side and together they sat her gently on the couch.

The second Selina met the soft fabric of said couch, she sucked in a breath and slowly but surely, managed to calm herself down enough to ask, “What happened?”

Sam and Dean exchanged troubled looks, neither of them wanting to be the one to have to explain all the complicated details. How could they? Where could they even start in telling her that when she dropped that bottle she released the Wicked Witch? That she released Dorothy? That the movie she knew, and hated, was real and that it had killed their grandfather?

From the beginning, that’s where they could start. And they did. They told her everything, taking it in turns but only after Sam had turned off the TV. He didn’t want Selina to have to keep hearing Somewhere Over the Rainbow as they told her the tale that would ruin that song for her forever. 

Selina wasn’t sure what to think about it all. Between learning that Oz was real, and that Dean had literally just watched Dorothy walk back down the yellow brick road after they’d defeated the witch, to realising that somewhere out there was a real life Cowardly Lion? It was all a lot for her to take in right now, which is exactly why she stopped Dean mid sentence and stood up.

“We should start building a pyre.” Selina said quietly, biting at her nails as she never once took her eyes off Henry. “He deserves a hunter's funeral.”

“Why don’t we wait until tomorrow?” Sam said softly, standing up and placing a comforting hand on Selina's slightly trembling shoulder. “You’ve had a rough day, you should rest.” 

Selina shook her head and tried to speak, only her words became choked and her eyes started to sting with tears. For a second she thought she was about to break down again, but with enough deep breaths she managed to swallow her sobs just long enough to whisper, “I can’t.”

And so, they built a pyre. 

The flames were still going strong when Selina decided to call it a night. They’d barely even begun to make a dent into burning Henry’s body, but she just couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t keep standing there, watching, wondering what she might have done differently for this moment to never have had to happen. 

If only she hadn’t been so stubborn. If only she had sat down and fought through watching that god awful movie then maybe Henry would still be here. Or perhaps, if she hadn’t had such an irrational fear of a fictional character then maybe she never would have dropped that jar. 

A jar she shouldn’t have even touched in the first place as it had clearly been stored away for a reason. 

If only she hadn’t been so curious – so nosey, even, then maybe she wouldn’t have started exploring the bunker. Maybe she never would have started raiding old store rooms and rummaging through stuff she had no business sticking her nose into. 

Maybe then that jar would still be sitting on a shelf somewhere where it belonged instead of in pieces on the floor.

If only she wasn’t so love drunk on Crowley to the point where she needed constant distraction, then maybe none of this would have ever happened. 

No, that wasn’t fair. This wasn’t Crowley’s fault. He hadn’t forced Selina to fall for him or sent her away. She’d done that herself, and now, because of that, she’d have to live with the guilt of Henry’s death for the rest of her life. However long that may be as the life expectancy of a Winchester was growing shorter and shorter as the years went on. 

Here’s hoping it was her next. She couldn’t handle another funeral.

Selina was heading back inside – whether to cry or continue to busy herself again; she hadn’t decided yet – when she came to a sudden stop, close enough to the fire that she could feel the heat of it on her skin. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from the ground, not when the fabric they’d wrapped Henry in was beginning to burn away and she could see his body becoming charred beneath it. 

Instead, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out the DVD copy of The Wizard of Oz. She never wanted to see that movie, or hear that song, ever again, and she especially didn’t want a copy of it within the walls of her home where she would be reminded of this day anytime she looked at it. 

So, without bothering to look at what she was doing, Selina tossed it into the flames, then went straight to her room. 

Over the next few hours, Sam and Dean would periodically check in with Selina, just to make sure she was doing okay and wasn’t about to do anything stupid - like summon Death and force him to bring Henry back at gunpoint. Luckily for them though, all she had been doing was rearranging her bedroom.

Back when Bobby died she moved all the furniture in Rufus’s cabin around and started painting the walls, so it was no surprise that it was happening now. Just minus the paint. Thankfully. 

“You think we should try and talk to her again?” Dean asked, after he and Sam had settled in the library for the night as they felt it was too soon to return to the Dean Cave. 

“No, leave her be.” Sam shook his head, a soft sigh leaving his lips as his eyes drifted towards the general direction of Selina’s bedroom. “She’ll talk to us when she’s ready. For now, let her carry on.”

To Dean, Sam always knew best being Selina’s twin and all, so if he said that it was best to leave her alone, then it was best to leave her alone.

Dean simply nodded in response, taking a large swig of his beer as he leaned back in his chair, ready to relax for a little while before he made a start on tidying up the Dean Cave - mainly getting rid of the remnants of that jar so that Selina didn't have to see it again. 

The moment was almost perfect, all things considered, until Crowley popped up in front of them, scaring the crap out of both of them and almost making Dean topple out of said chair. Although he did make him spill his beer all down the front of his shirt, so he'd count that as a win.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean grumbled, annoyed. He sat up, setting his beer down rather hard on the table before getting to his feet, lifting his shirt away from his stomach as the wetness of the material was making him uncomfortable. “Don’t you people ever knock?”

“I mean, we could,” Crowley said wittily, and with a slight grin rising on his face. “But where would be the fun in that?”

“Wait a second, Crowley,” Sam stood up, ignoring Dean’s rambles and earning the demon’s attention, “How did you get in here?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Crowley shrugged, and it was true. He had no idea how he’d been able to slip through the bunkers warding and it had surprised him greatly when he did.

Although he had an inkling it had something to do with Selina. And a certain necklace she wore. 

“Why are you here?” Dean asked, growing annoyed already. 

“Selina called me a few hours ago. Sounded upset. Wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help cheer her up,” Rather than a scoff like he’d expected, Crowley’s words gathered a rather worrisome look from Sam and Dean, and so, with his own worry blossoming in his chest, he pressed, “What is it?” 

“We, uh,” Sam hesitated, running his hand over his jaw as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Like they hadn’t learned their lesson about shit like this, “We think we know why she called you.”

“She wanted to make a deal.” Dean said, before Crowley could even ask why. “For Henry.”

“Henry?” Crowley repeated, his brows furrowing, “Your grandfather? Why on Earth would she…” His words trailed off, his eyes widening as the realisation of why Selina had sounded so upset kicked in. 

Henry was dead, he had to be, and it came as no shock to him that he was the first person she called about it. Not because of whatever feelings she may or may not have had for him, but because of what he could potentially do for her should he say yes. 

And he would not say yes. No matter what he might have felt for her. He would rather have her heartbroken than ever make a deal with her that could potentially damn her to Hell for all eternity.

“Whatever she says to you,” Dean began, his tone as serious as the look in his eyes and he couldn’t refrain from pointing sternly at Crowley, “You do not make that deal, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Crowley muttered, offended at the insinuation, and before Dean could forbid him from doing anything else, he vanished.

When he reappeared he was outside Selina’s bedroom, as he thought it best to knock first rather than just pop up inside of it. He raised his hand, hesitating momentarily as even with his burning desire to see her, Crowley was a little nervous that she might not want to see him after he’d taken so long to show up. 

But even with that, he pushed through and knocked. 

A few seconds of silence passed in which he thought against this. Where he thought about leaving because he didn’t have it in him to see her reaction should she make him say no to a deal. That was, until a faint ‘ come in’ seeped through the wooden door, making his heart flutter yet offering him no relief as he was fairly certain Selina thought he was one of her brothers. 

Still, Crowley nervously gripped the handle and opened the door, where his eyes were met instantly with the mess that was once Selina’s bedroom. There were boxes laying everywhere, most of which had been overturned and were now spewing all manner of objects all over the floor. The furniture was in complete disarray, her wardrobe at a funny angle and it was clear that she had tried to move her vanity unit but gave up halfway through as it was now abandoned in the middle of the room.

The real mess, however, was Selina herself, who was now lying on her bed, blank-faced and with enough redness in and around her eyes that she could challenge Crowley’s own. She didn’t even appear to have noticed him at first, until she glanced in his direction and let out the softest version of his name he’d ever heard. 

As Crowley moved further into the room, Selina dragged herself out of bed and the second she was close enough to him she fell against him. His arms wrapped around her almost instantaneously, embodying her with the only comfort she could ever want to feel at a time like this. She gripped the front of his coat tightly, burying her face between the layers of his usual attire and simply breathed him in, not caring if he smelt a little like sulphur as right now, it was all she wanted to smell if it meant he was here with her. 

“I heard about Henry,” Crowley said softly, bringing one hand up to gently stroke Selina’s hair, feeling as she nestled her cheek further into the gap between his coat and chest, as though hiding her emotions from him. “I’m sorry, darling. Truly. I can’t imagine what that pain must feel like.”

It was true, he couldn’t. He hadn’t had the unfortunate luck of experiencing death with his newfound ability to feel , and from Selina’s reaction to it, he hoped he never did. 

“I never even got a chance to say goodbye,” Selina whispered hoarsely, which only showed exactly how much crying she had done, and made Crowley all the more annoyed with himself that he hadn’t gone to her the minute she asked him to.

Especially now, when a tiny sliver of relief began to blossom in his chest when he came to realise that she hadn’t called him to make a deal. He should have known that. Deals weren’t her style and she was often vocal about the stupidity of making them. 

No, she’d called him for him . She’d called him because she wanted him here with her, and now that he was, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. At least, not until she told him to. 

“Something tells me you’ll get another chance.” Crowley replied, continuing to stroke her hair and even though he wished to look her in the eyes, he didn’t dare let go. Not until she was ready. “You know as well as I do that death isn’t always the end.”

Selina said nothing. Instead, she just stood there, allowing Crowley to hold her as she basked in the strange sense of comfort he seemed to bring her. She wasn’t sure where she’d be if she didn’t have him, which was enough for her to realise that what she’d told him on her birthday was complete and utter nonsense.

And so she said aloud, “What happened to Henry… It made me realise something.”

“What’s that?” Crowley asked curiously, glancing down just in time to see Selina lift her head, and the second those gorgeous, yet deeply saddened, brown eyes of hers finally met his own, his heart all but melted. 

“What I said last time we were together. About us not seeing each other for a little while…” Selina paused, dropping her eyes to where her fingers fiddled anxiously with the button on Crowley’s shirt as she chewed at her lip, before she took a deep breath and whispered, “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“No?”

Selina shook her head and met his gaze again, “I let Henry leave because I knew how hard it was for him here and I understood that. I got that he needed time to adjust to life without his family but because of that… I missed out on all the time I could have spent with him and now… Now he’s gone and I won’t ever be able to get that time back. But with you…”

“You have a chance to change things.” Crowley said for her, in nothing more than a shallow breath that had taken a life of its own.

“I do.” Selina smiled, raising her hand and ghosting her thumb along the edge of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his beard against her skin. “And I’m not talking about crossing that line. I know that’s still a bad idea but I just… I don’t want anything to happen that’ll make me regret letting you go too.” 

“Then I’ll stay.” Crowley said softly, his heart hammering beneath his chest as he wouldn’t lie, he’d longed to say those exact words to her at one time or another. He lifted his hand, gently brushing her hair behind her ear before it settled on the side of her face. “If it brings you comfort, I will always stay.”

Selina smiled. A smile so warm, so genuine that something snapped inside Crowley’s chest and before he knew it, he was kissing her. Only this time wasn’t like all the others. It wasn’t hungry or lust driven. 

It was gentle. Soft and slow, and in such a loving way that they didn’t hear any alarm bells or any voices inside their heads telling them it was a mistake. They didn’t feel any worries about it escalating further, or that they might reach a point from which they’d never return. 

All they felt was each other. And in that small moment in time, everything was perfect.

“Thank you for being here for me.” Selina murmured against his lips, already feeling herself being drawn towards them again by whatever he had in them that made them so downright intoxicating. 

How anyone’s lips could be as addicting as Crowley’s were, Selina would never know. All she did know was that no matter how hard it was to resist, she couldn’t kiss him again. Not when she was in such a weak and vulnerable state. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Crowley, as she did – with her life, and she knew he’d never take advantage of her when she was like this. It was more that she didn’t trust herself not to do something that might later get her into trouble.  

Crowley said nothing in response to her thanks, too full of affection to want to risk opening his mouth should something he’d regret slip out of it. He dropped his gaze a touch, just to be safe, his eyes coming to land upon the familiar red necklace that still lay between her collar bones and part of him wished he could tell her the truth behind its meaning. 

But that might be a little too much for her to handle right now, so rather than do that, he simply lifted the gem between his fingers and lightly brushed his thumb over it, his knuckles grazing across her skin in a way that had both of their stomachs flutter. 

“You’re still wearing it.” Crowley exhaled, his lips rising into a soft smile as he shifted his attention back to her face.

“I haven’t taken it off since you gave me it,” Selina whispered, his presence alone able to render her completely breathless. “And I don’t plan to either.”

“Don’t you know how to make a demon feel special.” Crowley teased, making Selina chuckle as she forced herself to step away from him. 

“I’m a woman with many talents.” she said playfully, flashing him an equally playful smile before a certain feline friend of hers came strolling into the room and proceeded to meow rather loudly until she picked him up.

“You have a cat?” Crowley questioned, his brow a little furrowed. 

“As of last week.” Selina replied happily, hoisting Kit up into her arms a little better. “Sam and Dean got me him for my birthday. Or maybe it was Cas, I’m not sure who was fully responsible.”

Crowley edged his way towards her, carefully so as to not spook the cat as last time he’d shown up when she was with one, he’d scared it off. Luckily though, Kit didn’t seem to mind the demonic company, and happily allowed Crowley to give him a few chin scratches as he purred softly. 

“Does he have a name?” Crowley asked, pretending not to notice the collar that bore a striking resemblance to not only the colour of Selina’s necklace, but the colour of his very own essence. 

“Kit.” Selina said, immediately raising one finger to silence him when his mouth opened as she knew all too well what he was about to say. “Don’t you even say it.”

Crowley grinned, “Oh, but it’s too perfect not to… Kitten.”

“I hate you.” Selina grumbled, although she couldn’t help but chuckle as truthfully, she’d been waiting for this moment to come ever since she first picked out Kit’s name. “And I hate that damn nickname too.”

Could be worse though, he could call her Squirrel.

“Well, what would you have me call you instead?” Crowley asked, with genuine curiosity as he watched Selina do nothing but set Kit down on the floor, where he instantly scampered off. Probably to annoy Dean. 

“Well…” Selina drew out, pressing her lips together as she raised her eyes to meet his, feeling a hint of embarrassment coursing through her at the thought of admitting this aloud. But that wasn’t about to stop her. “I like it when you call me darling.”

“Really?” Crowley mused, his eyebrow raising. “That’s not what you told me a few years ago when you not-so-kindly asked that I don’t call you it.”

“Times change.” Selina shrugged, “And besides, it’s not like you stopped.”

“Fair,” Crowley agreed, closing the small distance between them and lightly running his knuckles down the side of her face. “In that case, consider it done… My darling.”

My darling. Selina could have fainted. And she might have had Crowley not spotted a certain black box sitting on her nightstand, making him swear abruptly under his breath and shocking Selina out of the daze he’d so easily thrown her in.  

“What?” She asked, her brow deeply furrowed as Crowley crossed her room in two quick strides, picked up the box and marvelled at it as though it were Pandora’s. “Crowley?”

“Do you have any idea what this is?” He breathed out, trailing his fingers across the three dimensional skull as he looked over at Selina, who shook her head. “This is the bloody Key to Death.”

“Death?” Selina repeated, stepping closer to him and tilting her head. “Like the Death? The horseman?”

Crowley nodded, “It’s said that this key can take you to him… To his library, to be precise.”

“His library?” Selina repeated, her brows still furrowed. Until a lightbulb flicked on inside her head and they shot up, her legs moving towards Crowley before her mind even told them to. “Let me see it.”

Crowley handed her the box the second she asked for it, watching cautiously as she ghosted her fingers along the seam. On second thoughts, maybe he shouldn’t have given it to her as she seemed a little too interested in it, and part of him couldn’t help but think she was about to do something even stupider than making a deal.

Selina sucked in a breath, her heart beating so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest. In one quick motion, she lifted the lid off the box, and inside, lying nestled between a red velvet interior, was the Key: bronze and intricately carved with a small skull sitting pretty on the handle.

If there were ever a key that could take someone to Death, it would be this one. And it was just Selina’s luck that it had ended up in her possession.

“There seems to be some kind of inscription on the lid.” Crowley pointed out. A bad move really as the second he said it, Selina’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. 

Lifting the key from within the box, Selina tossed the bottom half onto her bed and focused solely on the lid. Crowley was right. On either side of the protruding skull were two verses of Latin, an obvious spell of sorts that only made Selina all the more sure of what she needed to do. She knew Crowley wouldn’t like it, but luckily for her, he seemed pretty inclined to say yes to most of what she asked of him. 

So here’s hoping he allowed her to do this and didn’t go and tell her brothers instead.

“Viator moratlis…”

Crowley cut her off, “What are you doing?”

“Something I have to do.” Selina whispered, her voice riddled with such seriousness that after a deep sigh, all Crowley did was nod, allowing her to carry on even despite his better judgement, “Viator mortalis, cave, quoniam scias Clavem Mortis pensare graviter. Il tamen desideres, ut introeas illum abyssum obscurissium artis, opus est tibi porta.”

The second the last word of Latin left Selina’s lips, the key in her hand began to glow and she half expected to be transported directly to Death’s library, as though the key itself was some kind of portkey. But instead, on the wall facing her, an outline of a door began to glow faintly from within the bricks and a large keyhole materialised right before her eyes. 

Hopefully this wasn’t a permanent fixture, otherwise she’d have to move rooms and declare this one Death’s.

“Selina, are you sure about this?” Crowley asked, more worried than he’d been before. “It’s one thing to summon Death, but to walk into his library? It’s suicide.”

“I’ll be fine.” Selina replied, with less assurance than she’d hoped as truthfully, she had no idea if she would be. “Death likes me… I think.”

“Selina…”

“I have to do this, Crowley.” Selina cut him off, her voice a little shaky as she glanced towards him. “I have to.”

“Okay, darling.” Crowley said softly, approaching her fully and lightly brushing her hair behind her ear. “Just promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

Selina smiled, “I promise.”

And after one gentle kiss to her forehead, Selina left Crowley in the safety of her room and entered Death’s.

Whatever Selina had in her mind about the decor of Death’s library – coffins, skulls, bodies hanging from the ceiling – disappeared the moment she stepped inside, the door shutting fully behind her and sparking a touch of fear in her chest as she really didn’t want to be stuck here. 

Here being a vast, almost sci-fi looking room, filled with nothing but rows upon rows of grey shelves. Each of them housed a number of black books and every single one of them was assigned a letter. Coincidentally, the letter ‘W’.

“Hello?” Selina called out, her shoulders shrinking a little when her voice reverberated around the room. 

Feeling like a sitting duck, or rather a standing duck, she began to move, walking slowly along the outside of the shelves until she came to an aisle wider than the rest, where she stopped and began to reconsider her life choices. 

“Oh let’s take a little trip to Death’s library,” She mumbled to herself as she glanced around. “Whose genius idea was that?”

“I believe it was your genius idea,” said a bone chillingly familiar voice from behind, making Selina jump quite a bit and spin on her heels to see Death himself standing casually behind her.

“Right,” Selina chuckled nervously, ignoring the frantic beat of her heart after he’d almost scared her to death. Now that would have been ironic. “Well, um, hi. Nice to see you again, Death. Uh, sir.”

Smooth. 

“If this is about your grandfather, I’m afraid the answer is no.” Death said bluntly, and suddenly, Selina wasn’t as scared anymore.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“By all means, ask. The answer will still be no.” With that, Death turned gracefully on his heels and began to walk away.

“I just want to say goodbye.” Selina blurted out, her voice shaky enough that it halted Death in place and he glanced over his shoulder towards her.

“Pardon?”

“To Henry. I never,” Selina swallowed, blinking fast in an attempt to not start crying again. Especially in front of Death. “I never got a chance to say goodbye and I was wondering if you might be able to help me do that.”

“To help you say goodbye?” Death repeated, and Selina nodded. “And why on Earth would I do that?”

“I don’t know,” Selina mumbled, shaking her head and feeling like she was about three feet tall. Maybe Crowley was right. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 

But she was here now, so she had to try. 

“But I have your Key,” Selina said, noticing the tiniest twitch of Death’s jaw. “And if you help me, I’ll give it back to you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll keep coming here,” Selina said bravely, crossing her arms over her chest, which was slowly filling with fear. “I’ll keep annoying you until you do. Just ask my brothers, they’ll tell you. I can be pretty annoying.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Death said, yet he didn’t seem overly annoyed. “Well, I guess you leave me no choice then.”

“Wait, really?” Selina asked, surprised to say the least. 

Death nodded, “Really.”

Well, that was easy.

“You have one minute.” Was all Death said before he waved his hand and Henry appeared, wearing the same clothes he had died in and looking momentarily confused.

“Henry?” Selina whispered, her eyes welling with tears as Henry shifted his attention towards her, where his confusion quickly shifted to minor disappointment.   

“Selina…” Henry exhaled, edging his way towards her with the same amount of disappointment in his voice, “You promised me.”

“I know. But I’m not here to bring you back, I swear,” Selina said quickly, assuringly, “I’m here to say goodbye.”

Henry smiled and took one final step towards her, raising his hand to gently cup her face, “You never cease to amaze me, Selina, and I’m glad we got the chance to know one another.”

“Me too,” Selina whispered, feeling her cheeks begin to dampen as the tears escaped her eyes, Henry lighty wiping away those he could reach before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“Until we meet again.” 

“Goodbye, Henry.” Selina sniffled, then in a glow of whitish-gold light, Henry was gone, leaving her feeling less empty and more peaceful than she had been when she first stepped into the library.

Guess it was true what they say, humans really were wired to want closure and thanks to Death, Selina got hers.

“He’s at peace now.” Death said, in a surprisingly soft tone.

Selina turned to him, her lip a little wobbly as she flashed him as much of a smile as she could manage. She didn’t overly trust her own voice, and just because she’d gotten closure, didn’t make it any less easy to overcome the guilt she felt over getting Henry killed. But she’d learn to live with that, so for now all she could do was return home.

Selina thanked Death, for both allowing her to say goodbye and for not killing her for annoying him, before she headed back towards the panel of the wall she was pretty sure was where the door had been. Guess she’d find out once she pushed it as either she’d see Crowley waiting for her, or she’d be pushing on the wall and would end up having to ask Death for another favour. 

And something told her he might actually kill her that time. Maybe she should open the door again later and slide a hotdog in or something.

“Selina,” Death called towards her, watching as she turned, her eyebrow partially raised and she was probably expecting him to tell her she was about to push the wrong section of wall. But he didn’t, as she wasn’t. Instead, he just smiled and said, “Do tell Crowley I said hello, won’t you?”

Selina blushed almost instantly, ducking her head away from him and using her hair as a way to hide from his intense gaze. How did he know Crowley was on the other side of the door? Had he peeked? Had Crowley? Who knows? But she wasn’t keen to find out and so she just mumbled under her breath, pushed open the door and slammed it shut behind her.

And thank God her wall returned to normal otherwise she most definitely would have moved rooms and sealed this one up.

“Selina,” Crowley breathed out in relief, lifting himself from the edge of her bed where he’d been waiting with enough worry in him to rival a child whose parents hadn’t arrived home at exactly the time they said they would. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay.” Selina nodded, smiling softly and feeling her heart tug over his concern. 

“Where’s Henry?” Crowley asked curiously. It had only been about five minutes since she left and he never would have expected her to give up so soon. Or without a fight.

“He’s at peace.” Selina replied contently, making Crowley narrow his eyes a little, almost in question. “I never went to Death with the intention of bringing Henry back. I went to him so that I could say goodbye.”

Crowley’s face softened, “And did you?”

“I did.” Selina said, her voice cracking just enough that Crowley couldn’t stop himself from embracing her.

“It’ll be okay, darling.” Crowley soothed, lightly stroking the back of Selina’s hair, in a way he knew she was growing to like as he couldn’t miss the contented hums that left her lips. He angled his head down, placing a soft, lingering kiss atop her own before he asked, humorously, “Now, what do you say we put your furniture back where it belongs?”

Chapter 12 ->

[voidsentprinces]

*drinks water for once* ....Themis looked up to Azem and used them as a shining example of what to be for the Convocation. But over time as their memory faded and waned they became set on the promise turned mission. Eventually not remembering who and what they were promising in the first place. Coming face to face with a near completely reformed Azem and not even recognizing them. Possessing the body of one of their shards bodies and becoming the primal version of their previous shard on the First. Coming to blows with them again and again and again. Through circumstance and fate and eventually sending them to Elpis on the slightest inkling that the Warrior of Light had been there and was needed there to see the salvation of his star and people. Even as he faded away. It is all the more tragic as you might wonder what would of become of Elidibus had he remembered us in our entirely and still looked up to us. You need look no further than to the two Scions who use us as their guiding star as to what to become and achieve, Alphinaud and Alisaie. And then reflect on what might of been had Elidibus still remembered and cherished our council despite being changed since the Final Days. Maybe the only Ascian to outright befriend us and not in a round about way like Emet-Selch but directly. As he had always been for and against his kin and this time, might of been no different. Alas, the rains have ceased and he lives to see another beautiful day but he believes we are not there to see it despite being only a few feet away. As we watch our once bright and youthful companion fade into aether like Emet-Selch. Remember them. Remember they once lived.

[dropthedemiurge]

Writing Pattern challenge!

Rules: Post the line(s) from your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern^^

Tagged by @ullvide, thank you, it was fun to pay attention to it xD

1. Yeowoon is still seeing random notifications popping up in front of his face but they don't appear too often. [Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy.] (Calculating Tae Myungha's Happiness... Love for Love's Sake, Myungha/Yeowoon)

2. Yok was prepared for many surprises in his life, but Black willingly appearing in his home wasn't one of them. (Be my (stubborn) canvas, Not Me, Yok/| Black)

3. Colored as lavender, cotton candy melted in his mouth and squeaked on his teeth, which in turn made his joy so cheerful and sincere. (Dream Wrapped in Gold, Last Twilight Mhok/Day)

4. Their bar looked lively today, despite the shitty mood Korn was in. He stared down at the glass – precisely, at the shards of the glass that had scattered around the floor, – and wanted to break something more. Or break down himself. (Magnetic Hearts, Bad Buddy, Pat/Pran/Korn/Wai)

5. White and black pixels ran through the surface of the dark-mint colored wall and disappeared in the window crack in the matter of a blink. Yok tapped the augmented reality glasses – sitting on his nose and putting a heavy weight onto his ears – in frustration. (Augmented, Not Me, Yok, Gram, Todd, Black)

6. Boston sees snow for the first time in his life. And feels too fucking cold. (Free Spirit, Only Friends, Boston/Nick/Dan)

7. Being called Ray fucking sucks. He doesn't feel like a ray of sunshine. He doesn't feel like he resembles the sun at all. No one revolves or stays around him, everybody eventually leaves despite his desperate attempts to make the gravity work. (Name of a Dying Star, Only Friends, Sand/Ray)

8. Nick runs up the stairs and swings the door to his apartment open, keys joyfully clanking in his fingers. He doesn't want to waste a minute of this wonderful evening, but he needs to stop by their house and grab some– Their apartment is eerily quiet. (Capturing the sight of a broken soul, Only Friends, Nick & Sand, Boston & Sand)

9. I will hold you while you mourn your broken heart until you feel alive again. "So… Ray and Mew, huh?" (Hold the sand with care so it won't fall apart, Only Friends, Nick/Sand)

10. Sky didn't like to feel so tense. Sometimes the ongoing days just had to be like this – burdensome, itchy, looming over Sky's head for no reason. (Icy droplets peltering against the skin, Love in the Air, Sky/Rain)

I'm not sure if there are certain patterns: I jumped in the middle of action/description sometiems, also dropped the very metaphor of the fic right in the beginning a couple of times... I guess I'm just trying to make them not boring - because they used to be, and I think most of my latest examples are quite successful. At least, by my low standards xD

(and also I had to skip like 3-4 last fics and find another for #10 because writing so many missed scenes and aus about only friends and niche pairings was getting embarrassing lol)

I still want to learn how to make great openings. Because I think I'm better with impactful endings instead, but that's a theme for another challenge :D

If you wonder who I'm tagging to do the same - I'm tagging YOU. I know tou want to do it, yes, go ahead!

[alias-sam]

Pierced by a Golden Soul

Chapter 35. Enemy Encounter

Platonic Jojo's x Reader

Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.

Word Count: 1,715

(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)

The park was the first place you could think of. You wanted to be alone. The rain didn't bother you in the slightest. If anything, the feeling of cool water sprinkling across your face and back was exactly what you needed. The park was vacant when you got there. It usually was when the weather was like this. The second it started raining tourists always made a mad dash inside the nearest shop or building. As long as there wasn't any lightning or thunder you had nothing to worry about. Mindlessly, you wandered around the area before coming across a somewhat dry bench located under a tree. You sat and watched as raindrops caused ripples in puddles that were scattered across the ground. It was serene, a well needed reset for your senses.

The smell of damp soil and wet grass was a contrast to the stench of blood and disinfectant that you had become far too familiar with in the past week. The cold hard bench you sat on was much more comforting than the shiver of uncertainty you felt every night before heading to bed. The sound of raindrops as they fell to the ground was less daunting than the questions that whispered and screamed in the back of your mind every time something odd happened. So much had occurred in such a short period of time, and there was only more to come. You could feel it. Slowly, you reached into your pocket and took out the plastic bag with the arrow shard. It was insane to you that something so small could contribute to possibly the worst string of events in your life. But that didn't matter now.

You must have been lost deeper in thought than intended, because you didn't notice the splash of footsteps in puddles as someone walked up to you.

However, you did notice when the footsteps stopped abruptly. You looked up and made eye contact with a familiar pair of panicked eyes.

"You!" The boy's look of fear shifted to a glare.

"You..." It was Learco. Of course it was. You'd had a habbit of running into stand users. Part of you wondered if Jotaro or Mr. Joestar ever had this problem. Learco took a cautious step back as you stood up from the bench.

"S-stay away from me!"

"Wait!" You followed after the delinquent before he could make a brake for it like last time. "I need to talk to you!" It seemed fate or luck was on your side this time, because Learco slipped in a puddle on the sidewalk. You cringed as you watched his arms and legs skid across the concrete. Learco froze on the ground, making you worried. "Are you okay?" You quickly and carefully approached, offering a hand to help him back up. Learco shifted, propping himself up on his elbows. He gave you a look nothing short of hateful.

"I don't know what you could possibly want from me." He sneered, smacking your hand away. You probably should have guessed that would be his reaction. Learco picked himself up, hissing from the newly formed cuts across his extremities. To be honest, you regretted not following Learco after seeing him at the store. You still had a lot of questions about his condition before and after the effects of your stand. Right now, he was the only person who could give you answers.

"You really don't remember any of the things that happened while you were in your coma?" You watched carefully as Learco's anger melded with confusion.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?"

"That wasn't a no..." You trailed off, looking at Learco expectantly.

"Of course not!" He sputtered.

"So you don't remember meeting at the docks, or watching Tim Buggles beat up a football player?" You decided to push a little further, despite his seeming lack of context or understanding

"That little runt did... what?" Learco muttered to himself. After a moment he shook his head. "You're crazy."

"But I now know that you regret bullying Tim." You replied without missing a beat. Learco stood silently for a moment, a lost look in his eyes.

"I take it back." Learco sighed. "You're insane."

"I now know that you're deathly afraid of our classmate Vita." An unintentional smile crossed your face.

"No I'm not-" Started defensively, but he stopped. A look of realization dawned on Learco's features as his gave slowly trailed back to you. "How did you know that?"

"Exactly! How is that possible? It's not." This was surprisingly exciting for you. Puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place, at least in this corner of the picture. You just uncovered an effect of your stand!

"I have no idea what your damn stand did to me!" Learco glared at you, taking a more guarded stance. "The things can do some scary shit!"

"Don't you find it weird that the two of us can just talk to one another? Like we've done it before? Doesn't feel like muscle memory?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Learco yelled in disbelief.

"Why would I start now?" You deadpanned.

"You're insufferable, you know that? Why do you always insist on pushing my buttons? Jesus Y/n you make no sense to me-" Learco froze, surprised by his own choice in words. Realization and disbelief became obvious on his features. "What the...?"

"Case in point." You answered proudly, confidant for the first time in awhile. "Maybe you don't remember the experience per say, but your subconscious somehow does!"

"But-" Learco faltered. "I-" He suddenly glared at you and took another step back. "Stay the hell away from me!" In the blink of an eye, you were face to face with Metal Health, Learco's stand. It was just as daunting as the last time you saw it. Metal Health held up it's scythe hand in your direction.

"I don't want to fight you." Quickly, you held up your hands defensively, taking a step back yourself. Maybe you pushed him a little too far. You also definitely got carried away. Without another word Learco turned tail and jogged away. You didn't miss the confusion and panic swimming in his eyes during your whole conversation. Despite the situation, nothing with Learco had really changed. Sure, he didn't remember your time together directly, but his soul did. Meaning, he wasn't entirely on board with whatever his brother and gang were plotting. If you could get though Learco's exterior, maybe you could convince him to explain a few things about the leader of his group.

Keicho, it was a name you had been made aware of through Blake. You didn't know anything about him aside from a name and his status as a leader.

You needed to find out more if you wanted to put together the rest of the puzzle. It was a fruitless endeavor if you were missing so many pieces.

........................

"You did...What?" Jaya watched with worry as her brother paced around her bedroom. He had been frazzled since she'd come home from school. The second she stepped in the door he ushered her somewhere they could talk. Now she was sitting on her brother's bed while watching Julius' understanding of reality fall apart.

"I made a portal!" Julius blurted out, eyes wide.

"Okay..." Jaya sighed, cradling the bridge of her nose. She was afraid this was going to happen. Now she wished she had explained the whole situation a little better beforehand.

"No! You don't understand! I was in the hallway one moment, and the next I was pulled through the closet, and I was at the school!"

"Maybe you should calm down." Jaya suggested after noticing how Julius was sweating bullets. He was still recovering from several abdominal surgeries, so this stress was horrible for his already poor condition.

"You think I'm crazy. Don't you?" Julius accused, jabbing a finger at his sister.

"No, but I'm not exactly sure what to do now." Jaya confessed. Julius sighed, pausing his rant to take a breath. Jaya couldn't see it, but the little robot thing that was following Julius around was sitting on the bed next to her.

"These stand things are so strange." Julius commented. His supposed 'stand' was freaky to say the least. It was small and boxy, with short stubby limbs, its arms were longer than its legs. The way it sat resembled a frog in an odd way. Bolts and screws were poking out around every joint. The stand was a lurid shade of purple, with a square jaw that jutted out slightly. "You seriously can't see it?"

"Nope." Jaya answered. Julius took a deep breath and sat down next to his sister.

"You can't tell dad."

"Why would I?" Jaya asked with a risen eyebrow.

"Just...making sure." A subtle smile broke on Julius' lips.

"Consider it our little secret." Jaya assured. A silence settled between the siblings as Julius calmed himself down. Jaya however was far from calming; her head was turning. "Speaking of dad..." Something had been bothering her as of late. "Now that I'm thinking about it, he reacted pretty badly after finding out about Jojo. I'm not entirely sure what he said to them, but he warned me to cut ties with them. I think... I think he knows Y/n is a stand user."

"How?"

"You can't tell me you don't remember all of the things that happened back home in Rome. The weird unexplainable things." Jaya grimaced and looked at her brother gravely. "You remember why mom and dad split up."

"Dad was worried about our safety. Anybody would be after finding out their spouse was a member of the Mafia." Julius scoffed. "Especially after fifteen years of marriage."

"But do you remember the odd things that happened?" Jaya muttered airily. Julius paused to think and relented.

"Yeah." They had both seen strange unexplainable things while living in Rome. Maybe that was why Jaya was so open to the existence of stands when she met you. Who was she to deny what was apparently sitting right in front of her? Speaking of...

"Have you named it yet?" Jaya asked out of the blue.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you named it?" Jaya shrugged, motioning in the general direction she assumed her brother's stand was sitting. "All of the stands I've seen or heard about have had names."

"Not really." Julius sighed before looking up at Jaya. "Got any ideas?"

"How do you feel about..." Jaya smiled. "Three Doors Down?"

[eternitas]

Card Game ideas ramblings!

There are the 7 flames, not representative of the characters initial flames, but still different effects depending on the flame type. And 3 categories.

The flames and their effects

Sky - overall teamboost on ults, works best with cards of different flame types

Storm - strong attack, scales differently with each card

Rain - lowers enemy stats

Lightning - high defense

Sun - extra boost to any buffs

Cloud - high attack, but usually charges best when no other effect works in that round

Mist - debuffs for enemies, especially evasion rates or accuracy rates

The 3 Categories

POWER - pure attack stats

MIND - buffs to the team especially evasion rates and crits

BOND - healer cards

Teams

Teams consist of 4 team cards and 1 guest card you can pick from friends or strangers. Every team has one leader slot. Yes you can make a guest card a leader. Leader Skills are all very individual and can range from a boost in healing to freezing an enemy. Depending on team constellation you can also unlock duo attacks or solo attacks (example: one of Sers cloud cards unlocks a solo attack when he is in a team with no squad 4 members, Leo and Sers initial ssrs have each a duo attack when together in a team)

Upgraddes

Depending on Card rarity you can upgrade them up to lvl 120 (SSR, completely unlocked). There is Training that ups your cards level, there are 2 skills you can upgrade up to level 6 (all unlocked) and an ultimate attack that can be upped to level 6 (all unlocked). Dying Will Moding a Card means unlocking extra steps (so from 100lv cap to 120, both skills up to lvl 6 from 5, unlocking ultimate up to level 6 from originally 5), this can be achieved through 5 SSR shards or a double copy of the same card, plus in both cases 3 different items (Max ring coupon of the attribute, max box weapon coupon of that attribute, max personal character charm). Each card can also be equipped with a Ring of their attribute and a box weapon of the attribute.

Card stats

A card has different stats. ATTACK, DEFENSE, ACCURACY, EVASION, CHARGE. Leveling up will increase all these stats and they can be influenced by skills and ultimates, such as team constellations. Some cards work best in a one flame type team others work better with different types of flames. To casual players these additional small details don't mean much but to min maxxer whales these team combinations are essential.

[tprssolution]

Fragile To Fierce : The Precision Of Making Toughened Glass

Toughened Glass: A Brief Understanding

Toughened glass, also called tempered glass, is a hard type of glass with increased durability and safety in resisting breakage due to pressure and changes in temperature. Many uses in industries have been enhanced through its strong nature since its invention.

But how does toughened glass become toughened?

What makes it so different from ordinary glass?

And why is it the favorite of many applications?

Toughened or tempered glass is a safety glass. To make toughened glass, brand-new annealed (float) glass is made to rise uniformly through a furnace to temperatures greater than 600 degrees Celsius. It is then quickly cooled in the quenching chamber of the furnace. Toughened glass, or safety glass/tempered glass, is much more durable than float glass and considered Grade A safety glass. Float glass when broken might break into large dangerous sharp shards.

Places where safety is essential are the areas we advise to opt for toughened glass: doors, sidelights, bathroom windows, balustrades, and pool fencing. While toughened glass has the ability to withstand extreme temperatures and heavy blows, it could still very well break under certain conditions. In this section, we take a closer look at the characteristics of toughened glass, manufacturing processes, and applications, in a very simple yet elaborate way.

Features Of Toughened Glass

Toughened glass has numerous qualities that make it much better than usual glass. There are some examples:

High strength and durability

Toughened glass can be five times stronger than normal glass Usage of heavy impact and sudden pressure changes will not break the glass easily.

Thermal resistance

This type of glass can withstand high temperatures, which is essential when it is used in the environment of extreme hotness changes, such as ovens and facade of buildings.

Shatter — Proof

They are called Shatter-Proof For safety, a person must not be able to see sharp-edged glass shards, which are a toughened form of glass that cuts into dull-edged pieces.

Greats Scratch Resistance

Toughened glass is much harder to scratch, which makes it last longer in applications such as phones or tablet screens and tabletops.

Weather Resistance

It does not matter if there are heavy rains, strong winds, or snow in the area; toughened glass never bends or twists under extreme weather conditions.

Unique Class Products

Different finishes and treatments of toughened glass, such as heat soaking, polishing, beveling, and mittering, can be developed to suit a kaleidoscope of applications for industrial and architectural specifications.

Custom Processing Options

Toughened glass products undergo a heat strengthening, heat soaking, polishing, water jet cutting, automated cutting, beveling, and mittering to provide premium quality solutions tailored for various applications.

How Toughened Glass Is Made ?

How Toughened Glass Is Made: Explanation

Toughened glass entails multiple procedures expected to fortify its strength and durability. Here is everything you need to know about how toughened glass is made :

Cutting and Shaping

Cut the glass to the required size and shape by automated cutting techniques to obtain preciseness. Water jet cutting or other additional processes may be required for some more complicated designs.

Polishing and Beveling

After that, polishing and beveling are employed to highlight the glass edges or to beautify them. This process chips the edge and refines it to achieve a smoother look.

Mittering

This method is angle cutting of the glass edges, mainly used for corner joints in architecture.

Toughening Process

The glass is subjected to heat in the furnace at temperature levels of about 620–700°C or 1300–1500°C temperatures. Such a degree of heating softens the glass enough for the next act.

Quenching

Immediately, this is followed by cooling of the glass through high-pressure air jets, which leads to a texting process where quenching, the outer surface cools quickly while the inner layers remain hot. In this case, since the layers close to the glass cool off gradually, in doing so they exert compressive stress onto the outer layers, thus assisting glass in making itself stronger and tougher.

Heat Strengthening

It is moderately rare for glass to be supplied with heat-treatment slightly lower than full toughening; nevertheless, this provides glass with durability while retaining a certain degree of flexibility.

Heat Soaking

It is in regard with heat soaking that the glass now gets further exposure after the heat treatment for the reason of purification from soluble impurities that may later account for spontaneous breakage, thus confounding reliability in structural applications.

Final Inspection

Once it gets completely cooled, it’s finally assessed for scratches, measure of uneven thickness, and distortion before it goes on to join its many applications. Through this process, only common glass acquires the strength and toughness that is spectacular.

Applications Of Toughened Glass

Because of its strength, safety, and durability, toughened glass finds a place in a number of industries. Following are some of the major applications of toughened glass :

Automotive Industry

Those panes and windshields in cars that are made of toughened glass can take impacts and are shatter-resistant.

Architectural and Construction Sector

All those skyscrapers, glass doors, balconies and curtain walls are made to stand because toughened gives support as well as beauty.

Electronics and Gadgets

Smartphone screens, tablets, and even TV screens utilize toughened glass to give protection against scratches and breakage owing to accidental drops.

Furniture and Interior Design

To exude beauty and durability, modern glass tables, partitions, and shelves are implemented with toughened glass.

Household Appliances

To withstand high temperature and daily usage, ovens, microwave doors, and refrigerator selves are made using toughened glass.

Public Spaces and Transport

Public branches, like the bus stop and the subway metro stations as well, use the toughened glass since it’s great for security purposes, visibility, and maintenance ease.

Toughened glass has itself made a place in modern life with safety, reliability, and aesthetic appeal in various industries. Use from the highest skyscraper to smartphone screens in making everyday life safe and efficient.

Why Do You Prefer Us : The TPRS Glass Solutions ?

TPRS Glass Solutions is a reliably trusted partner for the same solutions for toughened glass: the best in this field. With expertise in toughened glass, heat strengthening, heat soaking, polishing, water jet cutting, automated cutting, beveling, and mittering, we assure the premium quality glass products needed for many applications.

Toughened glass products are meant to perform in extremely demanding environments–they have very high impact resistance, good thermal stability properties, and aesthetics for architectural, industrial, and commercial requirements. Whether you need custom-made toughened glass for construction, interior design, or electronics, we have the right solution for you.

Reach out to us today to learn more about our top-notch toughened glass solutions and how we can bring your vision into existence!

[cllnsllvn]

Raglan

The weather forecast absolutely lied to me today. Yesterday, it said that today would be a lower chance of rain. Absolutely fat chance, it rained nearly all day with varying degrees of strength. Although, it was not nearly as bad as the rain seems to have been in Christchurch, so at least I'm not home right now! I did still end up doing a few things today, heading first to the Raglan Museum.

For such a small community, this museum packs a punch. Even the first exhibit alone, the Bird Family Collection from Te Horea, is worth the price of entry. The photo above is a bad example of it, but I often wonder to myself how the archaeologists/excavators decide what is a tool and what is just a rock. Maybe they just assume that all rocks were tools and take them all? The ones above have pretty clear wear lines where rope would have been tied to attach these sinkers to the fishing line. But there are lots of pieces of rock in museums that are labeled as shards that came off while making weapons or fish hooks or something else. Surely not every shard of rock fits that bill. Hundreds of years later, there is probably a chip of basalt that just flaked off a big piece. Anyway, that's where my brain goes sometimes while looking at museum exhibits.

The other exhibits included some of the initial collection of the Raglan Museum, a replica post office, information about the bird life in the area, the men and women who served in WWI and WWI from the Raglan area, and the surfing history of the area. Gentlemen, imagine wearing that one-piece woolen swimsuit - can't imagine it would be very comfortable when wet, but men were not allowed to be shirtless in public then.

I also really loved reading about all of the sustainability efforts in Raglan, and how they encompass all facets of life. I almost described Raglan as a hipster town in my post yesterday, and I still think that description sort of fits. But hipster only in that, for some reason, being eco-conscious is still sort of a bit like counterculture. But it was really heartwarming to read, and I had a great conversation with the person working about all the initiatives.

After grabbing a coffee and then heading back for some lunch, I waited for a tiny bit of blue sky to head out to Bridal Veil Falls. That blue sky did not last, so it was still raining when I got to the falls, but I tried. I imagine that the river is probably a bit higher than usual, thanks to all the rain, but I could definitely be wrong. I think these falls are usually pretty strong anyway. Now is where we get to seeing lots of pictures from different angles of the same falls.

There are four viewpoints on this short track: one at the top of the falls, looking down the falls; one labeled the high viewpoint, which is still at the top of the falls, but looking towards them rather than down them; one in the middle of the falls; and one at the base of the falls on a bridge crossing the river. You can see the different pictures from the viewpoints in that order! They are stunning, and the rock formations on the cliff are the same kind of formation that make up Giants Causeway.

I was planning to head to a local brewery afterwards, not realising that it's an off-license place, which means they operate somewhat like a liquor store. They could still provide samples, because they had some on tap. If you had your own bottle, you could buy by the litre, but I didn't want to fuss around with that. I just grabbed a bottle of their passionfruit sour and chocolate porter to take away with me! I had very much intended to drink the porter today, because the weather seemed to fit it, but then I mistakenly grabbed the sour from the car, and that was that. It was very tasty! I caught a glimpse of that rainbow while drinking my beer and playing my daily heardle games. It didn't last too long before the rain started again. Touch wood, the forecast for the next few days is finally looking promising, so fingers crossed for me!