#also quick clarification that yeah i think they all deserve love and care but like. not infantlising. thats not the way to do it

[piplupod]

,

[furiousgoldfish]

Damn i was not expecting the "#tw extreme abuse", thank you very much for your words though

I might be able to help the person who asked about healthy relationships though, ive made a lot of good relationships despite my family:

Communication

•above all else, communicate. Tell them about yourself. Learn about them. Get to know eachother! Likes, dislikes. Boundaries especially! Check in on them. Just a quick hi once in a while can do wonders (lots of relationships fail due to lack of communication or miscommunication)

•listen to eachother

Arguements

•if something happens you can always walk away, make sure the other person understands that they can as well. Take time to collect yourselves and explain later why your upset

•be clear and ask for clarification where you need it

•fights can be scary but dont think that someone will leave you after one

•try to steer clear of insults/threats/blackmail if your angry, thats hard to repair after

Trust

•i know its hard to trust and you can take all the time you need to learn how, but making healthy relationships is a good way to learn trust.

•Dont lie to them or you will get caught up in trying to keep it under wraps (unless its to protect your safety, in that case maybe being around this person is not a good idea), not only will they not trust you but you wont give yourself the opportunity to trust them

Kindness

•be nice. Its simple. Good people, the people that will make for great friends/support/family will be kind back! Go out and meet people! Youll make friends! Just give yourself a chance!

•treat other how you deserve to be treated, with all the love and kindess you should have gotten! They will pay it back, they will love you!

Other notes

•express interest in their interests. You dont have to be a big fan, people will want to show you what they like when they like you. They're sharing something special to them. So ask about it! You dont have to engage much with it, but show them their interests have value. It will make them really happy, and they should be open to yours as well.

•do fun shit together! Something you both enjoy! If there isnt anything that overlaps you can do your own stuff in eachothers company. Just hanging out with them is enough.

•being able to love someone else, is to love yourself. You're filled with so much compassion and care for this person, and they will feel the same. They will be their to love you when life hits the fan.

•again take your time, it can be hard to get right. If it doesn't work out thats an experience you can carry into the next relationship, something to learn from.

Caution:

-make sure they actually make you happy and treat you well, not that theyre just the first person you could latch onto

-make sure you both have personal freedoms, your loyalty to eachother should not come at that cost

-keep yourself safe, safety comes first

Finding good people is a very important one as well, if anyone needs i could try explaining that too. Hope this helps.

Hey thank you for sending this manual!

Yeah your situation is extreme, I'm thinking about you and hoping that you get to experience freedom.

Your manual sounds really nice and is filled with common sense, and I've been following these types of guidelines for most of my life, but still had absolutely no luck. The thing is, this would work if you're surrounded with kind, understanding, non-abusive, friendly people who also just wanted to be friends with you and reciprocate and earn your trust and keep you in your life.

However a lot of people will see your friendly, kind, compassionate and communicative nature and decide to make use of it. It's been the hardest thing for me to realize when the other person is just pretending to be friendly back, in order to exploit me. It's really difficult to take distance from someone when they make you feel guilty for it and attack you for it, and it's hard to not feel guilty and betrayed when it happens. Manipulative people make great use of trust and communication you give them! Treating them with love and kindness will often get you in a situation where love and kindness will be expected, or demanded out of you, while you find yourself unable to ask even for some patience and space for yourself. And I'm worried that this is the situation for most abused people, we're often trying so hard to be kind, communicative, trusting, interested, loyal, patient, giving, caring, compassionate, and they zero in on that and eat it up, taking some time to make us let our guard down, before they start banking on us being in their service.

I have been trying to find good people all of my life, and fell unsuccessful, and I've tried hundreds of people, created a system of red flags that make me drop them, and had to drop pretty much everyone. And it's not as if this manual is generally bad, or I've just sucked so much at communicating and building boundaries, it's just, really difficult after abuse to feel okay around people, and to not be bothered by some of their manipulative nature - it hurts us more than it hurts others.

So even as I'm really bad with people, I can't recommend being very kind, trusting or communicative, of course it's nice if you can be that and not get hurt for it, but I absolutely cannot. It never happened once in my life, that someone returned the same kindness, love and care I gave them, and it often broke my heart. I would have to be very naive to still believe that I just haven't done it for the right person - hundreds of people reacted similarly, took what they could, then either turned on me, hurt me and pretended it was okay and I should stop being sensitive, or abandoned me altogether if I ever stood up to them.

This all is not your fault, and I can completely understand how you sent in these instructions with best of intentions, sincerely believing that this is the key to healthy relationships. It seemed like that to me too, when I was younger! I fully believed this would work, kind people would see me and return the kindness, it would be okay. The only thing I can recommend is the stuff you have under caution - if someone fails to reciprocate, or reciprocates at first and then stops reciprocating, get distance. If your freedom around this person is limited, get away, get distance. If they start treating you worse at any point, get distance. It's not worth ending up in another abusive, neglected or scary situation just for the hope of human connection. And it's also really difficult for an abused person tell when they're being neglected, treated badly or their kindness is not reciprocated, just because we've already been used to so much worse, so anyone not outright threatening to kill us seems like a nice enough person who deserves our whole heart. They often do not.

[curiouschaosstarlight]

(*Quick clarification, 'cause I feel like I should say this right away, I don't mind people not liking or even being really uncomfortable with certain characters, especially villains that have canonically done some really horrible stuff, even if I happen to really love the character in question! It's all in the Handling of the topic, and someone that's like "oh they're just not my cup of tea" or just don't want to talk about the character at all 1000000% has my respect and appreciation <3)

-claps-

So.

On the topic of demonizing characters that have violent or angry responses to their trauma

The thing about it that really gets my goat is the fact that I as a person have had anger problems ever since I can remember. I've had a pretty bad mix of anxiety and anger problems due to being traumatized, and have had to work really, really hard to get my knee-jerk temper under control, and really nothing fucks you up like thinking you're "fixed" but the reality winds up being you just were in a state of "nothing too stressful's happened lately" and then when things start getting incredibly stressful again, you realize you still have more work to do and you have to watch yourself way more than you thought.

I'm still not "fixed", and, after talking extensively with a therapist, I'm kind of just going to have to be okay with that; still trying to do right by the people I care about and not be an asshole about things, but I'm just going to have to live with the fact that in response to high anxiety and high stress, I become an angry person, and I'm not always going to be able to remember to take a step back from a situation when I feel myself getting heated (my success rate in this is going up at least)

So It Really.

Really.

Bothers Me.

When fandom tries to claim that a character isn't traumatized, or isn't traumatized enough, because their response to that trauma is to be violent and angry and malicious. And when they try to claim that because a character reacted this way, they're just evil and irredeemable and have no further depth to them, and any attempt to add depth (even canonical depth) to them is "wrong (and a sign the person doing it is an Abuser/Terrible Person irl)" or is "woobifying them".

And yeah. Part of what bothers me is that I tend to fall very hard for villain/antagonist characters that handle trauma badly, or otherwise have signs that they probably have some trauma they haven't exactly worked through, especially when that villain character gets to have a redemption arc. (And I do NOT mean that as "they cast away everything they were before and completely denounce and despise who they used to be and go through the whole repent and penance number". Give me more villain characters who are TRYING, who are STRUGGLING, who have conflicted feelings, who aren't an entirely new person and shouldn't be left to just wallow in self-hatred over it because!! no one!! deserves!! to wallow in self-hatred!! I want redemption arcs in the form of "person who did wrong is doing their best to be a better person" and NOT "character needs to suffer and be heartbroken and sad and unable to move on forever", I hate when I see people writing the latter shit, Idc what the character canonically did, no one who's genuinely trying deserves to be perpetually miserable and it is Highkey Concerning to see that attitude happen again and again) Plus, I LOVE media and character analysis, it is MY JAM, and.

Yeah.

I've got a lot of feelings that go into this kinda stuff. It's why when I see "no nuance!! just evil!!!"-type takes, that shit really boils my blood.

And is also why I don't actively participate in fandom anymore.

Like, yeah, I make some posts here and there. And I'd love to interact more with like-minded people -- I really love talking to others about characters and media and ships and all that good stuff!!

But I don't go searching for fandom stuff unless it's some art in a completely different language. After my last two fandoms went absolutely horrifically for me in two different ways, I think my trust in modern fandoms is just gone, and I don't think it's coming back.

There's only so many times a person can be told they're inherently evil (indirectly) or badwrong and stupid (directly) for a simple fucking opinion over goddamn fiction of all things.

[cinnamonest]

Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask.  Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

[littleredlie]

Intervention (S1P4)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical and she returns back after a two week break. However, we learn that she didn’t spend her entire break off and instead focused on her sister’s murder.  Based off S1E11 of Chicago Med

2.3k+ Words (Short chapter)

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Hayden Everett (mentioned), Will Halstead, Maggie Lockwood, Connor Rhodes, Kevin Atwater, Adam Ruzek, Jay Halstead (mentioned), Sarah Reese Warning:  mentions of rape and murder, idk what else ??? A/N: Yikes, I started writing this chapter and ended up writing the next chapter so I had to write the end of this one and the beginning of part 5. This part was hard to write because the episode didn’t have much action to put Morgan in and so I made it a kind of Morgan-centric episode. It’s very shot, I had no idea what I was doing. Part 5 is better and I’ve already started part six. Sorry in advance. And we will never talk about this chapter again.

Part Three

“Hey Morgan, welcome back.”

“Hey Mags, how’re you?” Morgan tosses her stethoscope around her neck and picks up a few papers sitting on the desk.

“Nope, nada. I wanna hear how your vacation went. You’re gone for two weeks and not a single person hears from you. You do not deserve to hear about any work drama until you spill.”

“I think you are being overdramatic. And not that you need to know, but Connor heard from me,” Morgan shrugs, not daring to look at the nurse. Maggie had an eyebrow raised and was giving her a look; it was similar to the one she did during Jay and the doctor’s interaction.

“You two really have history don’t you?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for almost 15 years. He knew my sister first, but he and I were just closer.” At the mention of her sister, Maggie sends her friend a soft but the latter still isn’t looking. “And we made this ridiculous promise while we were drunk about how we were always gonna be there for each other, and yet, neither of us have broken that promise.” Morgan is quiet for a second as she thinks about the time she and Connor had as friends, but then she moves on. Like she always does when it comes to her personal life. She never lingers on it long enough for people to try and figure her out. “My vacation though was very quiet. Hayden and I drove up to a resort  up north and rented a cabin. We skied, went to spas, ate luxurious food. She had to leave for an assignment early so I just relaxed and did a little research too.”

“So you went all the way to a resort just to work, eventually.”

“The work’s never done Maggie,” with that Morgan leaves with a smile, heading to   the first patient of her day. Maggie just watches her receding back.

Before Morgan can make it into her assigned examination room, someone walks up to her, placing a gentle hand on her lower back.

“Hey Fitz,” Connor says, a small smile on his face.

“Fitz? No one’s called me that since med school,” she chuckles fully stopping to look at him. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to welcome you back. You look good.”

“Yeah, I guess time off was vital. But I have to know,” she pauses, the anticipation building and Connor waiting. “Does everyone know about Olivia? I’d suspect everyone would come to you for some clarification.”

Connor pauses, contemplating whether or not to spew out a white lie. It was true a few people came and prodded for the truth. And he briefly heard whispered conversations among colleagues before they would stop when he got near, but he knew what the topic was. Connor also knew how private Morgan was. She always had been, and after Olivia’s death she just became more closed off. But she also didn’t like being lied to. “Yeah, people know. I’ve tried to handle it, but it has its own life.”

“I guess it’s okay. I just…. I don’t know.” She shrugs and Connor rests his hands on her upper arms.

“Will you be okay?” His voice is sincere and Morgan wants to hug him, but maybe not right now.

“I will be,” at that Connor is about to pull away but Morgan stops him. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a bitch before I left. You know how my family gets me.”

“I understand. I do. And I’ll always give you the space you need.”

“Yeah, I know. But I probably shouldn’t push away my best friend. I need you, especially now.”

Connor pulls Morgan into a quick hug and is going to say something but a commotion arises from the ambulance bay.

“Dr. Rhodes, can you get this, please?” The two doctors pull apart and turn to the pleading charge nurse. “We’re slammed.” 

“I’m on it!” He answers back and throws a ‘talk later’ look to Morgan over his shoulder.

She nods back to him and finally turns her direction to her primary goal. With notes open about the patient on the tablet and a smile on her face, Dr. Fitzgerald returns to work.

          ❦

Three hours later, Morgan is on a roll. Treating patients as quickly and efficiently as she could. She had seen her usual coworkers, except Will. She may or may not have been avoiding him. And it was about to get easier, because after her lunch break she was heading up the OBGYN. She loved emergency medicine, but always felt that there weren’t enough available people in the emergency room that specialized in the field. Just like Connor was pursuing cardiothoracic surgery and Natalie was focused on emergency pediatrics, Morgan focused on obstetric and gynecology emergencies. It interested her just as much as emergency medicine did and after losing a pregnant patient when she first got her match, the choice came easy to her.

“Dr. Fitzgerald.” Maggie calls, pulling the doctor in her direction.

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?” Morgan leans her body on the desk as the ensuing chaos of the emergency room flutters around them.

“I just need a signature here for your last patient’s discharge papers.” 

“No problem.” Morgan pulls out a pen from her pocket and signs the paperwork. During this, Will siddles up to her. Maggie notices first and wants to usher him away, since she (along with everyone) noticed that Morgan was ignoring him, but the redhead ignored the nurse’s glares and he turned to Morgan, who still hadn't noticed that he was there.

“Morgan.”

Morgan’s plump lips fold into a thin line as a breath catches in her throat, she was avoiding this. Slowly placing the pen back into her jacket, she finally lays her eyes on him. “Dr. Halstead.”

“It’s good to see you back.” He starts, trying to catch her eyes which were fluttering around the hospital floor, evading. “I was hoping we co–” a ringtone interrupts his words and Morgan notices it’s coming from her. She breathes out a sigh of relief when she pulls it out. It may have been petty, but she wanted to stay angry at him a little longer. 

“Sorry, I have to take this.” Without a response, she answers the phone without looking at who it is, and walks away. “Hey, are you here?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’re in the parking garage, top floor.” His answer beckons her to start walking to the hospital employee parking lot.

“We?” Morgan questioned. 

“Yeah, Adam’s here.”

“Kevin!” She screeches, annoyance bubbling inside her. There was a reason she didn’t ask for Adam’s help.

“He’s my partner Morg, I couldn’t blow him off.” Kevin answers back and she pushes out an agitated sigh.

“Ugh, whatever. I’ll be up there in a few.” Morgan hands up and stuffs her cellphone back into her lab coat pocket.

The weather isn’t bad when Morgan hikes herself up to the top of the parking garage.  She can see the two policemen leisurely enjoying a cup of coffee.  She’d met Kevin years ago through his younger brother Jordan. The younger kid ended up in the hospital and Morgan was the one to treat him. They got to talking, found out they had some things in common, and it was one of the closest connections she made when she first moved out here and after Olivia’s death. Dating wasn’t an option between them, the way the two cared for each other was something close to two siblings and again, the fact that she dated Jay wasn’t helping. She didn’t want to dip her toe into the police dating pool again.

Morgan knew Adam through Kevin and Jay. And she made the mistake of introducing Adam to her roommate. Those two were quite the pair. Hayden used him as an inside source when it came to her articles and he used her to do things that he as a police officer legally couldn’t do (Morgan wasn’t necessarily supposed to know that though). Together, they made an agreement to warm each other’s bed when it was needed. Morgan of course thought it was stupid as Adam was a mess when it came to his love life, Hayden reassured that it was no strings attached and they were practically best friends when they weren’t sleeping together. 

Other than that, Morgan and Adam didn’t have a bad relationship, she didn’t want to ask him this favor because she knew he’d tell Hayden. And Morgan doesn’t want her roommate on her back.

“Hey boys,” Morgan called out to them, her body leaning through the open passenger window. She gives a strained smile to Adam and he gives her one back, knowing why she didn’t ask him to do the favor. Without saying anything, Kevin passes the folder she asked for.

It was surprisingly thinner than what she expected it to be. This killer has been on the loose for a while and she’d hoped that the police would listen to her anonymous tips that tried to tie together all his crimes. But the evidence showed that they didn’t.

“This is all they have Kev?” Morgan flips through the pages, disappointment written on her face. 

“Yeah.  I tried digging up some more, but that’s all that was available.”

“God, cops are so fucking useless.” She huffs out, completely missing the offended faces on the two detectives. “I have more in my own files than this. I tried taking it in, but I keep getting shut down.”

“Morgan, you can’t do this by yourself.” Adam finally speaks up, placing a hand on her wrist. She pulls her eyes away from the paperwork to him. 

“But it seems like no one else wants to do the work. Olivia’s case has gone cold and I feel like the longer that it goes unsolved, the harder it will be to get justice.” Olivia’s throat aches as a sob threatens to creep out. There are tears brimming in her eyes and she turns her body away from the two men.

“I understand that, doc. But, you already have to worry about your patients and yourself.” Adam starts, glancing at Kevin, trying to get his partner to say something. The black man is unsure what to say, he’d recently learned about Morgan’s sister when she first asked him to acquire the files. 

“Why don’t we take a look into it?” Kevin says and Adam wants to hit him upside the head. Adam had promised Hayden that he would help Morgan move on, which meant getting Olivia’s investigation out of her mind. If he and Kevin pursued this case, Morgan would never let it rest.

“Would you really do that?” Morgan almost throws herself into the car, hope filling in her chest. “You’d do actual investigating?” Kevin hesitates when he meets eye contact with Adam,  but the look on Morgan’s face destroys him.

“Yeah, I’ll try to do some work in between my regular caseload.” There’s a soft smile on Kevin’s face while Adam sighs out then turns his head to look at the giddy doctor.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me Kevin. You too, Adam.” Before the second man could say anything, Morgan’s phone goes off indicating the arrival for one of her pregnant patients. “Looks like I have to go. Why don’t you come over tonight and I’ll give you everything that I have.” She smiles at both of them. “And Adam, please don’t tell Hayden or Jay.”

“Jay?” Adam questions. He understood why she didn’t want him to tell Hayden, but Jay?

“Yeah, Jay. The two of us are in a really good spot right now and I don’t want to jeopardize that anymore that it already has been.” Adam nods, understanding. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, Morgan makes her way back into the hospital.

          ❦

Between patients Morgan finds herself peeking into the folder that Kevin gave her. One name stands: Isaac Elway. Apparently, his sister was a victim to the same killer that ended Olivia’s life. Details of the horrific crime, along with her sisters, were displayed in the paperwork. Morgan’s read the information about Olivia’s case numerous times before, but it still breaks her heart and it constantly keeps her up at night.

When she has no more patients, she pulls out a card with number on it. It’s Elway’s. She dials the number, her fingernail being demolished by the teeth in her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she’d been searching for answers for years. This was the first time she had heard of Elway and she had to know what he knew. Why was phone number in the file? Was he that important.

The phone rings and anxiety rises in Morgan’s throat. Eventually she had to get answers, that’s why she had Kevin looking into more details. No one answers the other line, just the automated voicemail message and a beep. Morgan quickly debates in her head whether or not to leave a message,  but ultimately she does.

“Hi, Mr. Elway this Dr. Morgan Fitzgerald at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center.  I am calling in regards to Sabrina Elway’s case file and it’s relation to another case. This isn’t a topic would like to discuss over the phone so I’d appreciate it if you would give me a call back. Thank you.” She hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into the pocket of her scrubs. 

“Dr. Fitzgerald, I need an OB consult on a patient?” Dr. Reese pokes her head through the door, oblivious to the emotions ripping the attending.

“Yeah, give me a moment.  I’ll be there.” The intern nods her head and retreats back towards the nurse’s central desk.

Morgan watches Sarah leave and then her eyes graze over the presence of her fellow doctors and the patients inhabiting the emergency room. She needed to accept that she will get her answers soon and that she could not speed the process of the world. She couldn’t afford getting distracted or she’d put herself and her patients in danger. She leaves the doctor’s lounge and heads back to her job, finally relinquishing control of her sister’s case.

Part Five

[emperorthyme]

end call

[ ao3 ]

Leorio couldn’t sleep.

This wasn’t abnormal. He often had trouble sleeping, but he had hoped—at least on the night of his birthday—that whatever higher power he’d pissed off would give him this much.

The sheets felt like sandpaper, so he kicked them off. His pillow was lumpy, so he tossed it to the ground. The mattress was hot and itchy against his skin, so he sat up, buried his face in his hands, and yelled.

He had thought, maybe, today would be it.

But the clock said 2:41 a.m., and it was the day after his twenty-fourth birthday, and it hadn’t come.

He had seen Gon and Killua today, which was nice. They came for a visit, along with Mito and Alluka. Leorio was so glad to see them he could have cried. As far as birthdays went, it had been one of his best.

Isn’t this enough? came the gentle, reasonable thought, originating in the shrinking fraction of his brain that still cared about being reasonable.

Leorio was aware of how dysfunctional his desires were. He knew, and he hated himself, and he pitied himself. He also distracted himself with school, and work, and the occasional bad date, and the slightly-more-than-occasional evening of drunken wallowing.

Leorio shook his head in his hands. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, and that was his own problem.

He would have asked Gon or Killua if either of them had heard from…anyone. But that would have been dismally transparent, and there was no reason for Leorio to burden them with his wretchedness. They were such good kids. They had seen enough already.

He looked at the clock again. 2:58.

“Fuck,” he said.

He was sad, and he was exhausted, and he felt guilty about being so sad and exhausted. His joy at seeing his friends had been genuine, but that on its own couldn’t reach the nasty little wound in him.

Leorio knew what that feeling was called, but he couldn’t let himself even think the word. He wanted to call it despair—but that wasn’t right. Someday, perhaps, he would be smart enough to despair.

But not today. Not yet.

Leorio’s phone rang.

He snatched it off the nightstand like it burned him, smashing the “answer” button before glancing at the caller ID.

“Leorio!”

He deflated.

“Zepile. Hi.”

“Happy birthday, man! Sorry I called so late. Auction ran into the wee hours, you know?”

“It’s fine. I wasn’t asleep.”

“Oh?”

Leorio winced at the bald innuendo in Zepile’s tone.

“You’re not interrupting anything, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”

“Shame. A man should celebrate on his birthday.”

“I’d settle for some fucking sleep.”

“Still with the insomnia, huh?”

Leorio didn’t want to talk about this. Not even with Zepile, who had been a good friend to him when he hadn’t been one in return. Who had witnessed every agonizing stage of his heartbreak and still tried to lift his spirits. Talking to him made Leorio feel even worse, because if he wanted to holler or cry, Zepile would listen. Another person who was unreasonably kind to him. Another friend he didn’t deserve.

“Hey, I’m, uh…”

Leorio cast around for a quick lie.

“I think I’m comin’ down with something.” He coughed twice, unconvincingly.

“Damn! That’s bad timing.”

“Yeah,” Leorio agreed, feigning a yawn.

“Well…” Zepile held his breath, like he was about to ask something. Then he thought better of it.

“Hope you feel better, man. Get some rest and fight it off.”

Leorio exhaled, his limbs heavy with relief.

“Hey, thanks for calling,” he mumbled.

“See ya.”

Leorio tapped the “end call” button, rolled back onto the bare mattress, and tried to sleep.

Hardly two minutes passed before the phone rang again. Leorio didn’t even open his eyes when he answered it.

“What, did you forget to say: ‘good night sweetie, I love you’?” he said acidly.

There was absolute silence on the other end of the line. Leorio’s throat went dry.

“…Zepile?”

“No. But now I have questions.”

Leorio sat up so fast his head spun.

“Kurapika.”

He hated how throaty and desperate his voice sounded. It was goddamn embarrassing.

“I apologize for calling so late.”

Kurapika cleared his throat, which he only did when he was hesitant. This was still true about him. Leorio knew this.

“No, no. It’s fine.”

He felt like a madman. He thought he could taste the air on the other side of the phone. He could see the shape of Kurapika’s mouth.

“I suppose I missed it after all.”

The world was still rearranging itself, so Leorio said:

“Missed what?”

Then, a second later:

“Oh! Oh, it wasn’t—um—”

He was fucking up everything. He was going to fuck up everything, and Kurapika was going to end the call.

So Leorio did what he always did when he was panicking, and told the truth.

“Yeah,” he blurted out. “You missed it.”

Kurapika made a soft sound, so close to a laugh that Leorio’s chest squeezed painfully tight. That noise was a fist around his heart, because it didn’t sound happy at all.

“I should have let you sleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

“Oh.”

Kurapika did not ask for clarification, because, Leorio thought, he wouldn’t care anyway. What business of it was his who Leorio took to bed?

“How are you doing?” Leorio asked, forcing a light tone.

“Let’s not do this.”

Leorio’s brain flipped the switch from elation to concern. It occurred to him, belatedly, that Kurapika might not be sober.

“Do what?” he asked, guardedly.

“Waste time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Leorio. I know it comes naturally, but it isn’t a good look for you.”

Kurapika was definitely not sober. He was either drunk or dying. And it pissed Leorio off.

“What the hell are you calling for, then?” he demanded.

The silence lasted for so long Leorio began to think Kurapika had hung up or fallen asleep. His head felt numb.

“I’m not sure.”

Leorio snorted bitterly.

“Yeah. That tracks.”

“I shouldn’t have called.”

It was humiliating how such a statement could reduce Leorio to frantic desperation. He gripped his phone, white-knuckled, as though that alone could keep Kurapika talking.

“Wait,” he rasped. “Hold on.”

He hung there for a few seconds, waiting for a click. It didn’t come.

“I saw the kids today.”

“How are they?”

“They’re fine…good. Great, even.”

A burst of static. Kurapika’s small huff of amusement.

“Your descriptive capabilities. It’s like I was there.”

“Shut up.”

“Gon is well?”

Leorio’s eyes stung. God dammit. God fucking dammit.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Kurapika—”

“Wait.”

Leorio dug his knuckles into his eyes, savagely. He waited, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Is it fun?”

“Huh?”

“Your day with them. Your life now. Do you enjoy it?”

Leorio knew he was crying, and he knew Kurapika knew.

“Why did you call?” he asked plaintively. “Why now? Where are you?”

“Leorio.”

“Why should I tell you anything? What’s the point? You’re not here. You don’t communicate. You could die and no one would tell me. Every day like this. No, I don’t enjoy it, Kurapika. I don’t fucking enjoy it.”

Leorio bit his tongue, horrified and furious at the both of them. It was always like this. Why was it always like this.

“You would know if I died,” Kurapika said quietly. “I’ve secured that.”

“Great,” he spat. “Fucking…super cool. Wonderful. Happy fucking birthday to me.”

“Please.”

Kurapika sounded small, scared. He sounded his own age, which, Leorio remembered suddenly, was very, very young. They both were.

“I’m trying.”

“I know. That’s what sucks.”

Kurapika inhaled, deep, and a little shuddery. Almost like it hurt.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Liar.

“Liar.”

“I’m in no immediate danger.”

“Guess that’s all I can ask for.”

Kurapika didn’t respond. Their conversation felt over. Leorio wished he could end it.

“I need to go.”

“Yeah.”

“Get some sleep.”

“You too.”

He could say all of it before Kurapika hung up. He could give voice to the thing inside him, which wasn’t despair but tasted like it. Leorio opened his mouth. He would do it. This might be the only time he could.

“Happy birthday, Leorio.”

The line clicked dead.

Leorio curled down onto the mattress. The clock read 3:11. He clung to the phone: wrapped himself around it like it was his heart.

[twilighteve-writes]

Feather One Divided -- Chapter 10: The Lead

Feather one divided, fate’s ties frayed, Fractured and wedged, scattered and gone.

After sharing an unsettling dream of Felldrake, the Three Caballeros decided to join back together with Xandra to form a stronghold in case the sorcerer returned. But Felldrake’s plans proved to be bigger than they expected, and when he struck so close to home, it was all Donald could do to keep his family – and himself – together.

(Also available in AO3)

(Chapter 1)

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Pieces reach to one another.

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Something snapped and disappeared.

Huey dropped wordlessly to the floor, feeling strangely like a ship unmoored. Next to him, Dewey stumbled and caught himself at the wall, took a few quick, shallow breaths, and let out a sound that might have been a scream if it didn’t end up as a whimpered squeak.

“Louie,” they both spoke at the same time.

“What of him?” Violet asked. Her eyes searched theirs.

“We… can’t feel him anymore,” Huey said. His voice sounded like it had come from some faraway place, and his ears felt stuffed with cotton. “It’s like… like us being able to reach him before was us following a thread, and now the thread is snapped and gone.”

Dewey steadied himself and stood more firmly, but Huey could feel rather than see his knees quiver all the same. “Then we have to be faster. Come on.”

Huey took a deep breath. The cotton stuffing his ears dissipated, and he stood up. He still felt wobbly, but he was standing, and that was something. “What are we taking?”

“I’m… not sure yet,” Dewey admitted. “Something that protects, definitely.”

Webby frowned. “I’m not sure there’s one like that, in here. The Other Bin usually has things that are more… volatile.”

Dewey scowled. “Then something that can wreck Felldrake.”

Webby thought it over. “I don’t know if there’s anything like that, either, but Uncle Scrooge keeps quiet about the things he keeps here. We can maybe look around, but…”

“We might accidentally trigger something,” Lena finished. “And it won’t be pretty.”

“You’re the person who knows all about Scrooge’s adventures,” Violet said, looking at Webby. “Any ideas at all? It doesn’t have to be anything particularly shielding, just anything that could possibly be useful at all.”

Webby mulled it over, but Huey was the one who spoke. “The ring,” he said, voice soft enough that he was surprised the others even heard it at all.

Dewey blinked at him. “The Void Ring?” he asked. Huey nodded in clarification.

“Isn’t it the ring that made Uncle Donald and Aunt Della’s magic all… dirty?” Webby asked.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it kinda scary to grab?” Dewey asked nervously. For a guy who was all for raiding his uncle’s dangerous treasures he sure looked uncomfortable with the prospect of taking one of the more disturbing things in the bin.

“Good. Maybe it’ll poison Felldrake’s magic,” Huey said with a huff.

Lena let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think you have it in you, Red.”

“We might need something to heal with but Uncle Scrooge always has the Orb of Remedies with him,” Dewey mused. “We’ll probably be okay. We’re pretty quick.”

“And if we keep our distance we can avoid getting hurt,” Huey reminded pointedly.

“Sure, sure.” Dewey walked off, leading them deeper into the bin, and Huey sighed.

They eventually found the ring, and Violet took and put it into a leather pouch Webby had prepared to make sure it wouldn’t harm anyone in its vicinity. Lena looked relieved that the trip was pretty much uneventful for once and admitted she and Webby had, once, sneaked into the bin before.

“I’ve seen some stuff,” Lena said with a shrug.

“Like what?” Dewey asked in curiosity.

“Like a vision of Webby being turned into a doll which then got shredded,” Lena answered, completely deadpan. She shrugged again. “It’s okay, that’s not real. It’s from a dreamcatcher that apparently shows you your worst nightmare.”

“I can’t decide if the fact that your worst nightmare if Webby being horrifically maimed is heartwarming or horrifying,” Violet said with a frown, obviously disturbed.

“Let’s go with heartwarming, because I don’t want to think of the implication that me being maimed is even an option to be someone’s worst nightmare at all,” Webby blurted. “We’ve got the ring, let’s get out now.”

“Wait,” Dewey said. He headed off another way. “We got that around the same time as the pin. Maybe…”

Huey blinked. “Dewey… you’re taking the Three Feathers Pin? But it made our magic go wild,” he protested.

“I mean, if the worst thing happens and we have to do something, making our magic go wild and hope Felldrake gets hit by it seems like a good enough plan,” Dewey said.

“It’s really not.”

“What other choice do we have? We’re not strong enough to go against Felldrake.”

Huey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. At length, he finally relented, “…okay. Okay.” He opened his eyes and looked at Dewey. “But we’re still not engaging.”

Dewey balled his fists in apparent anger. “But if – “

“I know you meant that as, like, a last resort sort of stuff, but we’re not engaging, okay? Not if we can help it,” Huey hissed. “I know Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge are getting Louie back, but if – if – “ his words hitched in his throat and he swallowed. “I don’t want to take any risk, okay? I don’t want to lose you. Any of you,” he added, throwing a glance at the girls.

Silence hung, thick like honey, and Huey felt warmth beneath his feathers at the words he had let slip. He didn’t regret speaking them, however. Every word was sincere and true, and they all deserved to know how he felt.

It was broken by Lena, who was arguably the one most unused to open expressions of care and love. Her voice was layered with a wavering front of sarcasm that was as transparent as the wet sheen in her eyes. “Aw, aren’t’cha sweet, Huey? I would sell you for a corn chip, though.”

Huey snorted. “You’re as bad as Louie.”

“Did we figure you the person-to-corn chip conversion? I don’t think you’re worth just one corn chip. You’re worth three just for that confession alone,” Dewey pointed out.

Violet took out a calculator, seemingly out of nowhere. “Well, we can probably figure it out by weight. A corn chip is light, so let’s say it’s about two grams per chip. How much does the average adult weight?”

“Okay, stop, we’re not here to figure out person-to-corn chip conversion! And you’re worth a million corn chips for that confession, okay?” Webby broke in.

“Hey, we don’t know if that’s the correct weight.”

“No offense, Vi, but I don’t really care because it’s not body weight that matters but how precious you are, and you’re all precious to me. Come on, we gotta move.”

“What is this, National Heartfelt Confession Day?” Lena muttered under her breath. The group complied with Webby’s request all the same. They grabbed the pin on their way, having Violet handle it too, and Dewey insisted on making another round to see if there was anything else they could grab. In the end, though, they came out not taking anything else. What they suggested to each other ended up being vetoed on ground of the artefact being too dangerous with a side of downright useless against Felldrake.

When they emerged from the bin, there was a beat when they simply stood silently. “Now what?” Lena voiced their shared thoughts.

Huey turned to Dewey. “Yeah. Now what? It’s your idea; you should know what we’re gonna do next. Right?” He squinted at Dewey.

Dewey put his fingertips at his temples. “Okay, gimme a sec, I’m thinking.”

Huey sighed in exasperation. “Dewey.”

“Give me a break! I didn’t think I’d get this far!” Dewey flailed his arms, settled, and took a deep breath. “Okay! Okay. We can’t try to track the well on our own, none of us have the correct magic. So… so what about we tail Uncle Donald instead?”

Violet tilted her head. “And how do we do that?”

Dewey fell silent, but then there was a gleam in his eyes that Huey didn’t entirely like. He rubbed his hands. “We can do that,” he said, “by blackmailing Launchpad.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they crashed into Launchpad’s garage, he had Fenton over, along with another duck Huey didn’t recognize. Dewey did, however, and he pointed at the man.

“Hey, aren’t you Drake Mallard? The dude who was to be the actor for the cancelled Darkwing Duck movie?” Dewey asked, still pointing. Huey slapped his hand down because really? Dewey should know by now that pointing was rude.

“Um, yes. That’s me.” The man blinked at them, then he turned to Launchpad. “LP, I know you said you were told to babysit some children and we might end up having to help, but I didn’t know you meant five of them.”

“Uh, normally there would be six of them actually – “

“Six?! LP how are you still alive?!”

Fenton broke through the chatter with a quick look at their group and straightening up when he saw Lena and Violet. “Oh, hello! We met before, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but we didn’t introduce ourselves because you were busy with the magic-proof tech,” Violet said. She stepped forward and offered a hand. “My name is Violet. This is Lena.”

“Hi,” Lena said, waving.

“Hi Violet, hi Lena!” Fenton said cheerily, shaking Violet’s hand. “What brings you guys here today? Do you normally just barge into LP’s garage unannounced like this?”

“Um, no,” Huey said, feeling offended at the conclusion Fenton drew.

“Launchpad we need you to help us tail Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge,” Dewey demanded without preamble.

Launchpad, who was drinking, spat out his drink back into the red plastic cup he was holding. “Sorry, what?”

“We want to tail Aunt Della, Uncle Donald, and Uncle Scrooge,” Webby elaborated. “We want to make sure they’re fine, and get Louie, and in case things get bad we can be prepared.”

Launchpad, for all he acted like a birdbrain at times, looked positively horrified at the prospect. “Kids,” he began slowly, “they’ll kill me.”

“It’s okay, we’ll make sure we stay out of sight,” Violet assured.

“It’s not only them, Mrs. B will kill me too and she’s so much better at spotting things when things get weird,” Launchpad said. “I can’t help you with this. They meant it when they said it’s too dangerous.”

“Well, Darkwing Duck always says to get dangerous!” Dewey protested.

“That’s not – “ Launchpad rubbed his face with both hands. “Oh my god, was I wrong to bring them to marathon Darkwing Duck with me…?”

“Hey now, it’s never wrong to bring kids to watch Darkwing Duck. It’s the best show in the world,” Drake protested.

“Okay, let’s not get hasty here,” Fenton, ever the peacemaker, waved his hands in a placating manner. “Why do you want to tail your – um, the adults to begin with? I’m sure they have their things handled.”

“Because the bad guy they face is bad news and he’s gotten Louie and Uncle Donald has failed in getting Louie back,” Dewey said.

“We don’t blame him,” Huey added. “But it’s clear Felldrake’s stronger, and we don’t know if Uncle Donald and José and Panchito can deal with him on their own. And… Gyro said something to us, before.”

Fenton blinked. “He did?”

Huey nodded. “He said… he said that he thought maybe Mom and the uncles won’t like how he said things either, but if the worst case scenario happens, and they… fail… then Dewey and I, and probably Louie too, we’re the only people with magic we know of who even stand any chance to go against Felldrake.”

Fenton blinked again, then something dawned in his eyes. He closed them with a furrow of his brows and he let out a sigh. “Ugh, Gyro… if he’s not my boss I definitely would have whacked him…” he whispered, almost too soft for Huey to hear.

“Don’t blame him. He’s not wrong,” Dewey said glumly. “We don’t know who else have magic, after all.”

Drake tilted his head. “Magic isn’t real,” he said carefully, sounding more like he was asking than stating. In response, Dewey glowed blue-white and let a crackle of electricity dance on his feathers, while Huey lit himself aflame. Drake jolted in surprise in response, and Huey hid his smile by biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from getting wider. Dewey didn’t bother, openly smirking at the reaction.

Drake turned back to Launchpad. “LP, how are you still alive?” he asked again, with more feeling this time.

“Luck,” Launchpad answered glumly. “Kids, I really don’t think it’s my place to do this. It’s really not safe for you.”

“Launchpad, you really should at least consider helping us,” Lena said. “Look at them. Do you think they’ll stop pestering you?”

“I know they won’t, but I can’t just go ahead and help you guys tail your mom and uncles. And Mr. McD is my boss! I can’t just tail him! And they want you to not go with them for a reason!”

Dewey shook his head. “Launchpad, for real. We’re asking you so it’s just a little bit safer. And this way, you can still keep an eye on us.” He glanced at Huey, and Huey understood what he meant instantly.

He sighed and played along. “You can’t stop us. We’re only asking you out of courtesy.”

Fenton let out an uncertain uhhh while Drake stared at them skeptically. Launchpad, who was the only one even remotely familiar of the shenanigans they’d gotten into, immediately stared at them with trepidation. “What do you mean, courtesy?” he asked.

“Well, if you know and you go with us you can still make sure we’ll be okay, right? There’s no one to do that if we go on our own,” Huey said. “I mean, we could have just run off on our own but we didn’t.”

“Whuh – Mr. McD is, like, out of country right now,” Launchpad said. “There’s no way you can tail him on your own.”

“We jumpstarted Uncle Donald’s boat once. We can do it again if it comes down to it,” Dewey said with a shrug. “I can do it again right now, if I want to. It’s not that hard.”

“You did what to your uncle’s boat?” Drake asked, eyes wide.

Huey shrugged at him with more nonchalance than he thought was possible. “We wanted to go to Cape Suzette.”

“You never told me about this,” Lena said. She looked giddy with the prospect of her friends having done something like jumpstarting a boat. “Red, I thought you’d be the type to stop your brothers!”

“I mean, I tried, but there’s no stopping Dewey and Louie was all for it too,” Huey answered easily. “And when you can’t beat them, join them.”

“And there’s nothing stopping us for doing the same thing now,” Dewey added, pointedly looking at Launchpad, who looked like he wanted to cry. It made Huey feel guilty, and it probably made Dewey feel guilty too, but this was something they both wanted to do. Huey inwardly noted to apologize to Launchpad when this was all over.

“But, wait,” Fenton said, hands flailing. “I know you want to have Launchpad with you, but what will you tail your family with? There’s no plane to go after them. And what’s stopping the tech to short circuit? You all know tech and magic don’t mesh.”

Launchpad brightened and shot Fenton an immensely grateful look. “Yeah! That’s a good point!”

“I mean, if we want to tail them safely then we probably would stay far enough away that we won’t show up in their radar,” Webby pointed out.

“And Fenton’s here,” Violet added. “I’m sure you can build us a better radar to track them with. And what’s stopping you from magic proofing our vehicle?”

Fenton opened and closed his mouth wordlessly for a moment. “Wait – wait a second here, don’t rope me into this.”

“You’re the one who helped Launchpad with telling us the shortcomings of our plan. Are you planning to abandon Launchpad now that you’re in this too?” Lena challenged.

“Um,” Fenton squeaked.

Drake tilted his head. “You kids really won’t back down, huh?”

“No way,” Dewey said forcefully.

Drake stared at him for a moment, then looked away. He rubbed his neck. “You know, I… I know someone. Friend of a friend of a friend, sort of. He… has access to a plane.”

Huey straightened at once. “You can help us?”

“DW!” Launchpad whined.

“I mean, you kids are pretty much set on going,” Drake pointed out. “And I was a stubborn kid, too, so I know you guys are serious about going on your own. Plus I also have experience dealing with… super stubborn kids, and just straight out telling you no isn’t the route I can take if I want you kids to stay put – and you guys don’t want to stay put, so that point is moot anyway. If you really have jumpstarted a ship before, there’s no telling if you won’t do it again, and as impressive as that feat is you’re still all kids. It’s really better if someone goes with you so you won’t get hurt or anything.” He glanced at Launchpad. “And really, I think it’s better to go with them than let them go on their own now. If you go with them, you can at least tell your boss you can’t stop them so you decided to keep an eye on them. If you don’t, there’s no damage control. Best care scenario, you get fired.”

Fenton shuddered. “I don’t know if I want to know what the worst case scenario would be,” he said. “And if Launchpad is involved and I know and don’t help, I’ll face the consequences too.”

“I’m glad I’m not working for Scrooge McDuck,” Drake sighed.

“Oh no, there’s no stopping Uncle Donald and Mom from hunting you,” Huey said as casually as he could.

“See? Now I’m roped in, too.” Drake shook his head. “I’ll… contact the guy. But I don’t know if it can withstand magic, or if the radar is good enough.”

Fenton let out a longsuffering sigh. “I can make some modifications.”

Launchpad looked at his two friends and let his face drop to his hands, groaning loudly. “…I’ll pilot the plane,” he said at last.

Something like hope settled in Huey’s chest. Things were finally starting to look up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flight to take the money seed was a lot longer than any of them was comfortable with, no matter how far Della had stretched her skills both as a pilot and as someone proficient with magic. She was at the ends of her limit by the time they landed.

Donald could tell from the feel of her magic.

He wasn’t the only one who did. Uncle Scrooge noticed, too, and he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, lass?”

Della jumped – a clear indicator that she wasn’t, but the smile she threw on was decidedly deceptive. “Yeah, never better! I can do this all day.”

Donald frowned. Uncle Scrooge did the same and gave her a stern look. “Della.”

“What? I mean that, I’m fine!” She stood and wobbled back into the seat instantly. “Okay, not as fine as I’d like. But mostly fine.”

“You kept using magic the whole way,” Uncle Scrooge pointed out. “Rest up when you can. We’ll be back quickly.”

“But – “

Donald scowled at her. “Don’t make me tie you into your chair, Dell.” His magic brushed hers to drive home the seriousness of his threat, and she stilled. The brief jolt of surprise, disbelief, and longing clued Donald in to how much she’d missed him, and he wondered how long it had been since he’d let their magic mix and mingle together.

Far too long, it seemed. But his magic was different, changed when he took on the amulet again. He had noticed how the difference in his magic made Della hesitate when she first realized his magic had changed, and he thought it had been kindness to keep his magic out of her reach.

He shelved that for later. He had other things to worry about, right now.

Panchito groaned. “Donald, you’re using my lines to her!”

Donald rolled his eyes. “Hey, if it fits.”

“That can’t do, Donal’. You have to be creative with your threats,” José said.

Donald threw them a withering look. He opened his mouth to retort, but Magica cut him off with a scoff, “Are we going to dawdle here all day or are we going in to take the seed?”

Goldie let out a noncommittal sound. “I mean, I’m content to sit back and watch the drama unfold.”

“We’re facing a time limit,” Magica reminded.

“Which is why we need to get the seed! Let’s go!” Della stood from her seat, only to fall back into it when Uncle Scrooge pushed her down with his cane.

“After what you did last time with Dewey, I’m not ready to let you near the seed yet,” he said. “And you need rest.” He glanced at Goldie and Magica. “Can I trust you two to babysit her?”

“Babysit?!”

Goldie lifted a brow. “You just don’t trust us to go inside, do you?”

“Well, that, too. But I also need someone to keep an eye on this rascal.” Uncle Scrooge poked Della with his cane, prompting an indignant hey from her.

Goldie smiled. “Fair enough. Shame, I was hoping I could have spent some more time with dear José on the way, but I suppose that can wait until later.” At the curious hum José let out, she shrugged. “Our magic does have some similarities.”

José’s eyes lit up. Panchito and Donald shared a look, decided then and there that Goldie and José teaming up would be a bad thing for absolutely everyone else, with Goldie being able to charm absolutely everyone into trusting her and José being able to coax absolutely everyone into doing what he wanted, and dragged him out of the plane, into the cold. Xandra followed them silently – she had been silent for a while, eyes scanning the horizon with an alertness that Donald hadn’t seen in a while – and nudged them to walk faster.

Uncle Scrooge led them, and in the end the walk to take the money seed was as uneventful as uneventful could be. They were back to the plane soon, and while Della was all reared up to fly again, Uncle Scrooge managed to coax her into resting some more.

“What now, though? We can’t just sit still and do nothing here,” Della protested.

“We’re not sitting still and doing nothing,” Xandra said, speaking up for the first time. “We’re giving Donald a chance to figure out how to track the well and the logistics of dealing with the magic.”

Donald blinked at her. “Will it be draining?”

“Very,” Xandra said. She bit her lip in thought for a moment. “Try drawing out power from the amulet, and maybe extra energy from José and Panchito.” She glanced at the two inquiringly.

Panchito nodded readily. “Of course! Take as much as you need.”

“Anything to minimize the risk,” José added.

Donald took a deep breath and stared at the three golden seeds in his palm. He didn’t really want to draw power from José and Panchito, didn’t want to treat them as magical batteries, but if it came down to it he’d probably do it unconsciously. The amulets were connected to one another, and it was ridiculously easy to follow that connection to the person wearing them.

“Okay,” he breathed. He looked up at Xandra. “How do I do this?”

Xandra sat cross-legged in front of him and prompted him to do the same. Once seated, she took his hand and pushed his fingers to grip the seeds in his hold. He let her.

“Close your eyes,” she said, “and breathe deeply.”

Donald complied.

“The magic in the seeds is faint, but I know you can sense it,” Xandra guided. “Can you feel it?” At Donald’s nod, she squeezed his hand. “Okay, now dive into it. Let its magic mix with yours. It will be counterintuitive because it’s not water magic, but it’s possible to do.”

Donald took a deep breath. He could feel the seeds’ magic, just as Xandra had pointed out. Something about it reminded him of Louie; of something glimmering and precious, but it was different. Louie’s magic was a quiet thing that breathed, but the seeds’ lay dormant, and Donald wasn’t sure if it could grow stronger if stroked awake. He tried anyway, nudging and poking it with his own magic, and it was like trying to mix water with oil. Until, slowly, the seeds’ magic began responding to his better and agreed to mix and be molded.

Immediately, he could feel himself being drained. He frowned, grunting, almost instinctually reaching deep into himself and grasping at the tethers of José and Panchito’s bonds and drawing from them.

Something shifted and pushed at him, wriggling in his head and making way to put itself in. It slotted into place, something screamed to be found, and Donald opened his eyes with a gasp.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Della didn’t like how Donald looked right now.

She knew he was trying to get Louie back. Her baby. His, too, probably even more so than hers. But it didn’t change the fact that Donald looked different, felt different, and she didn’t like that.

The moment Donald wore his amulet, his magic had changed. It felt like the sea, but it was also more; it was also rain and rivers and lakes, but it was still also the sea, it was still Donald. The moment he reached into the seeds’ magic, the body of water that was Donald’s magic changed its face yet again and Della couldn’t recognize it.

And the change of magic was accompanied by a physical one, and something in her squirmed until she tasted bile in her throat. His magic, normally enveloping him in wave-like deep sea blue light speckled with white seafoam, had adopted a pale aquamarine with glittery golden sheen that shone through him and spread gold all over the interior of the plane. By him, José and Panchito exuded a similar golden sheen; dimmer but there all the same, most likely a byproduct of the way their magic were intertwined with one another’s through their amulet.

The initial change of his magic and the way he kept his distance after had been alienating enough. The fact that Della was watching it change once again into something she could barely recognize made a part of her want to weep.

Donald gasped and opened his eyes. His dark eyes had changed light, the lightest aquamarine, a glittery gold sheen covering the irises and spreading to the sclera until the white was nearly covered with all-encompassing gold. His magic, now barely even feeling like water anymore, pulsed. “The well,” he breathed softly.

Xandra leaned forward, hands hovering uncertainly around Donald. “Do you know where it is?”

Donald blinked. His gaze was almost blank, and his voice was lilting and untethered. When he spoke, his answer was almost as chilling as the nearly unrecognizable, eerily clear voice he used.

“Home.”

[in-tua-deep]

Honestly God and five and siblings goals. Also do you have any more info on that au??

(about the late addition/universe child au here ;3c)

adsfSDFGH are you kidding they would be the most insufferable kind of siblings where God and Five are consistently bothering each other and getting on one another’s nerves because they both are strong personalities that clash but at the same time if you even THINK about being mean to the other they will kill you without mercy

of course there’s being protective AND being irritating to multitask which God considers her job as a big sister clearly??

at some point Five figures out how to shift the academy like two inches to the left dimensionally speaking so that it sort of becomes something almost like how the Commission HQ was out of time but not quite?? it’s the house that when you enter you kind of feel like you’re entering a liminal space because it’s not quite in the dimension but it’s also not not in the dimension?

which is a longwinded way of saying that Five figures out how to squirm right through a loophole so God can come to their family dinners sometimes, when she wants to come

absolutely no one is sure what to do with,, you know,, God as their,,,, what? step-sibling? Like,, yeah the universe didn’t marry Reginald or whatever but she’s five’s sister and five is their brother so??

klaus just rolls with it and teams up with god to irritate five while also taking her side on genuinely everything because she gave Dave and Ben back

(“That was actually me??” Five protests loudly, because he was the one who had to fucking jump into an active warzone after Klaus ditched and grab a big old adult corpse and lug it home like does no one have ANY respect for the effort he makes?)

Five only brings up being ‘older’ than God exactly one (1) time because she immediately turns him into a 3-year-old until he manages to contact their mother to set it right (and even then she made him stay that way for a couple of days for “teasing his sister” before returning him to age 13)

“Hey how come you can change Five’s age but he can’t?” Allison asks over breakfast. No one touches the coffee pot because God made it, and it’s like black sludge. Well, Five drinks it - but he hardly counts.

She takes a sip of her tar. “Eventually he’ll be able to do it, but he’s too young right now.”

“HEY you know the conversion rates, right?” Klaus interjects, “How old is Five in universe years?”

God just kind of shrugs. “I spent my first few hundred years cradled in our mother’s arms as she spoke galaxies into being. I was probably a few hundred thousand years old when I made my first planet, and then a few hundred thousand more than that when I figured out life.”

Five is also drinking sludge tar coffee and carefully not commenting.

“Is Five a baby?” Luther asks incredulously, and he absolutely deserves the mug that is thrown at his head. He’s only fortunate Allison yanked him out of the way so it shattered on the wall instead of his thick skull, and that Vanya immediately moved to restrain Five from lunging across the table.

God, for her part, simply shrugs. “It’s a bit difficult to say. We aren’t the same as other people. We aren’t even the same as each other. One day, when we’re old enough, we’re supposed to leave our mother and become universes unto ourselves - but that’s so far into the future as to be eternity.”

Mollified, Five sits back and nods his head, because it isn’t fair to judge his age by human standards or by universe standards really.

Except then God smirks and says, “But he’s definitely younger than me and being not even a hundred definitely makes him a baby.” 

They end up just having to cut God’s visit short that day before they manage to completely destroy the kitchen. As it stands they’re going to have to entirely replace the flatware. Diego ended up just bear hugging Five to his chest and walking out of the room at one point, which Five quickly escaped and jumped back in. Klaus told Diego it was a bad idea, and so the black eye is Diego’s own fault.

honestly just the knowledge that your brother is kind of ?? a god? or a demi-god? they’re all somewhat unclear on everything

“I think I’m having a crisis of faith.” Klaus wheezes from the floor when Five finally ends up trying to explain after he does his thing so he can have God over at the house. “Are we religious? Are we supposed to be religious now? Are angels real?”

“You’ve been calling Dave your angel for literal months, Klaus.” Five points out, unimpressed.

Klaus rolls over to prop himself up on his elbows and give his littlest brother the stink eye. “YEAH. But like, in a GAY way not a CELESTIAL way thank you.”

“Important clarification.” God deadpans from where she’s sitting on the couch inspecting her nails. Allison is painting her other hand in confident strokes that only faltered a little upon finding the exact identity of the little girl in front of her.

“Does no one care about my crisis?” Klaus howls mournfully to the ceiling.

“I finished the tea.” Dave announces, coming into the room and just looking at Klaus on the floor with fondness instead of the general exasperation that’s sitting on every other sibling’s face. That’s how they know it’s love.

“That’s why he’s an angel.” Klaus sighs dreamily, accepting the cup and reaching up to pull Dave down to cuddle while Five makes a face at the blatant PDA going on in the house

honestly just Dave being super calm and just very very calmly turning to Klaus upon finding all this out and being like “Klaus, love of my life, I know you told me your family was weird but what the actual fuck.” 

And he’s from like, the old days when fuck was a really really bad word so you know it’s bad

(someone: i have questions about religion - 

god: actually i’m agnostic

someone: …

god: …

someone: but aren’t you goD -)

now i’m picturing claire coming over and having a tea party with her uncle five and also oh, god

(patrick, frantically, in the background after being filled in on all of this: what the fuck allison what the fuck)

but basically five in this au is like,, a very weak god?? because he’s a baby in terms of years and their power is supposed to grow with their years (which probably means that the universe absolutely could have interfered but it would have been a little like using a nuclear bomb to get rid of a spider in the house)

Five can: part the fabric of the universe to travel - both spatially and temporally, do some quick and dirty magic tricks like swapping two items or jumping an item to his hand instead of going to it, and speak the language of the universe - which is how he contacts his mother (it’s a little bit like yelling for your parent from across the house and hoping they’ll come closer to hear you)

God can do a whole heck of a lot more than that but she binds herself with a lot of personal rules - the chief of which is not to interfere too badly in mortal affairs because she’s a big believe in free will. And also if she tries to help one person, where does she draw the line?

(God likes Allison because she gets what it’s like to be capable of overriding someone’s free will and then choosing to not do that - even when it’s the easiest option available)

“So like, do I get my own planet?” Five asks, idly spreading peanut butter on bread as he prepares his favorite snack.

“Maybe when you’re older.” God says, just that side of condescending as she loudly clicks buttons on a gaming system she stole directly out of Ben’s hands not even ten minutes ago. He just let her have it and sat down at the table with a book and a deep sigh.

“I’ll kill you.” Five says mildly, like he’s commenting on the weather. “I’ll kill you, and no jury would convict me.”

“On no.” God deadpans, not even looking up from her game. It may or may not be pokemon. “Whatever will I do. I wonder where people go when they die. Surely it isn’t my own home dimension. Oh, the horror.”

“Don’t bring me into this.” Ben mutters, loudly flipping a page and making Five snort in laughter.

honestly i’m just picturing a whole lot of shenanigans tbh,, like not even connected series of flashes of just sort of a slice of life comedy

(“Some big sisters teach their little brothers to ride bikes.” Diego mutters, rubbing at the side of his head where his entire goddamn ear vanished a moment ago when he’d be volunteered for God to try and demonstrate something on him, “Just harmless bike riding. Not vanishing people’s fucking ears. The nerve. See if I hang around you two again.”)

Just Diego at the police station getting really frustrated with a case and being like “Hold up Eudora -” (“Don’t call me that.”) “I’m gonna call home and see if god is in, see if she knows that the hell is going on here. If not we might have to talk with Klaus, ugh.” (“Diego what the FUCK.”)

technically god has a name but it’s in like,, universe language?? it’s in starsong and not really,, applicable to human ears? the universe has a starsong name as well, and technically so does Five, which is probably why this au five was so resistant to getting a ‘name’ - he already had one

(Luther, horrified: wait when you said about being the four horsemen were you being literal

Five: don’t be silly Luther, if my sister wanted to cause the apocalypse she’d come down here and do it herself, not outsource

Luther: i am not comforted by that)

even after their first somewhat interesting meeting, god actually does get along with klaus very well - partially because his powers most directly relate with her ‘dimension’ so to speak, the one she calls home most of the time

i’m currently picturing a team up between god, claire, and five and it’s horrifying and wonderful and i’m sure causes more than one stress ulcer in the house goodness

but yes needless to say i do have a lot of thoughts about this au lmao

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

Sorry if this is rude or controversial but personally I don't feel inspired to write a long review documenting what I liked and how I felt when an author doesn't respond to it. I know you say that you read them but it's very similar to your issue in that if there's no acknowledgement then you're not inspired. I don't feel inspired to comment anymore. This goes to you and plenty of other authors out there.

It -is- rude, anon (I appreciate your politeness, but this is a huge problem with fandoms as a whole and it is rude af). And not just controversial– it’s mean, unfair, entitled, and selfish. You’re definitely not putting yourself in a writer’s shoes or seeing it from the side of the creator who is putting the work out there for you to freely consume. Have you ever in your life spent eight hours to write a comment to someone on something they wrote? Yeah, no one has. But that’s how long it can take to get a chapter said and done that you enjoyed. You think that’s a fair distribution of work? Fair by any means?

Me: Spends 8-12hrs of my collective free time writing an 8-10k words chapter update, hopes for a few sentences of what someone likes.

You: Before I even consider writing what I liked, I’m just not gonna do it because the writer won’t acknowledge me for me leaving them a comment.

Also you: why hasn’t this fic updated yet wtf?

Let me see if I can get this straight by what facts have been presented: you want fic which you enjoy reading, which writers spend hours and hours putting work into, and the writer wants 60 seconds of a reader’s time back to say what they enjoyed (not 60 straight seconds of typing mind– that’s quite a lot- but more than a quick “thanks loved it”), and you consider it -unfair- that -you- should spend the time to let the writer know you liked stuff, if the writer doesn’t reply back to you after they’ve already spent hours producing content you probably spent less than 1hr consuming (average reading speed being about ~200wpm).

So it’s not worth it to you to support your writer or let them know the content you’re consuming– again, for -free-, and shared by the writer who already knows the story in their mind and has no other incentive to share it publicly with others except for the incentive of getting comments from others– was enjoyed by you unless they personally get back to you (and by that merit, every other person who comments, which takes away from other time that could be spent writing) so therefore you don’t leave a nice comment? Writers aren’t mind readers, if you want to engage in conversation, go for it! Have a question? Chances are they’ll answer it!

If someone leaves me a question or wants some clarification on something (or is inviting conversation of ‘hey is this happening in this au?’ or proposing something or whatever), I end up answering the comment. If there’s no question, I put what free time I have -back- into producing more content I post online for others to read for free, and when they comment, I flip my shit and typity type type up a storm.

Commenting is like tipping someone for their service. “Hey thanks for the service, I really enjoyed my meal, here’s your tip.” But you only tip if I’m tipping you -back-, anon? What? Like I’m not even sure what you expect back from a writer (if it’s a question answered, yeah, that’s something) but like, do you want accolades back just for commenting? o_O?

And let’s just drop the service/meal analogy all together (cuz you didn’t pay for the fic in the first place, yeah?), and say, you really think you’re entitled to read work without giving back? Aaaaall these choices online, you get to read what you enjoy, and you don’t think you owe someone the courtesy to leave something nice? Or are you feeling guilty and don’t like that I’m calling that shit out? It’s not cool, dude. It’s not nice, nor is it at all a fair thing for you to say or take exception to. It’s WRONG that people stop commenting. That shouldn’t even be controversial jfc like are you aware a lot of writers fully delete their shit because they think people don’t care? You think you’re not part of the problem?

I want to take a second to say I appreciate you being polite, and if you’ve been on my blog for a while you know how fucking ornery shit like this makes me, I don’t know your situation (some folks don’t have the spoons and that’s fair; but this is not your stated case) and it just REALLY pisses me off that it can come off as me, a writer, being seen as some raging bitch just because I think writers should be given their fair due for the massive amounts of work out in. Did you see the post earlier on “just how long is this fanfic?” and it compares them to books? No one is getting paid to write and publish the shit you enjoy (some fic writers do patreon but that’s a minority, and some folks are cool and buy kofis for their writers but it’s not required to read the work).

I'ts a thankless fucking job putting up fic. The best we hope for is a nice comment back about how someone is enjoying the piece. Artsy folks contribute sometimes not in commenting, but drawing art of your shit, because your work inspired them– and thusly added to more stuff for the community to enjoy, which is just fucking RAD. Commenting is GOOD and a productive thing, but I’m still lost over how you think you need a reply back when the writer already gave you so much.

Being on both sides of the argument myself– as someone who -does- leave longer comments and also writes a fuckton– and i’m nearly at 1million words in 3years anon so you don’t have a leg to stand on here unless you expose your identity and have something comparable that you’ve provided free of charge to the fandom at large- I will say this: leaving the longer, documenting comments as you call it -can- take a bit more effort, yes. I’ve got panic disorder, and wanting to leave writers something nice for the effort they put in can make me anxious, yes. It’s more work and can be daunting. But it is SO worth it for the payoff (I.e. Fueling the writer which has them create even MORE).

But seeing the rate at which writers get -discouraged- cuz of lack of feedback on truly awesome work (and a LOT of us creative types are somewhere on the depressive spectrum, comments mean more to a writer than you think) I can stand to put in a little extra effort for how much the relief of escape of reading their freely-available work gives me. I don’t need to ego-pat, but letting them know I appreciate their command of language or little things I haven’t seen before in fic can make SUCH a difference.

And sometimes I just don’t have the time for a documenting-type comment (esp. as a lot of us read in bed when we’re already exhausted; I understand that), and as someone with a busy life outside of the internet, I’ll still leave a nice comment with general impressions and let them know I’m anxious for the next update and I’m loving what they’re doing with characters/storyline/whatever stood out after reading 8,000+ words. Hell anon, there are enough super-popular posts floating around this hellsite about how much a goddamn -keysmash- comment means to someone. There’s a lot of emotion in one of those is the silly thing, but it communicates a LOT.

I can leave writers more than a 1% word tip, if you will, for what they give me. 8 well-meant words on an 8k fic is still better than “thanks I loved it”. And I don’t expect writers to have to thank me profusely for leaving them a comment. They ALREADY did me a favor by putting so much work and time into an enjoyable story for me. They didn’t get revenue from me buying their book. But I sure as hell read it. And they definitely don’t need to waste their time with a generic “thank you” reply when I already know they’ve gotten the notification that the comment is there, and they will see it. They should enjoy the comment I left as much as I enjoyed the story, in my opinion, and sometimes I think my comments fall short, but I still leave several nice sentences for them.

Fandom as a whole does NOT do right by its content creators. No, no one can be 100% on all the damn time, let alone have the spoons to do it. I’m a prime example of fandom burnout.

But to feel justified not giving back? That is some fucked up shit, and people with those mindsets don’t deserve the access they have to so much awesome fanart/fanfic out there, and yes, you should feel ashamed.

[hellcheer-munson]

Trip to Disneyland Paris (27/08/17-29/08/17)

Okay, so let me start by saying that Disneyland Paris was AMAZING! It wasn’t my first time going – I went age four, age nine, and then age 15 on a French Immersion trip at school – but it was still amazing and magical, of course. I can’t recommend going enough.

I’m going to go into detail about just how awesome this trip was because I’m happy and need to share it. Under the cut for people who don’t want it on their dashes.

Getting there

So I went with my family from Sunday morning to this afternoon (Tuesday) – that’s my parents and my sister. We had to get up on Sunday morning at five in the morning to get dressed, washed and pack last minute things before our Uber arrived to take us to St. Pancras. The drive there was actually pretty cool because we got to see parts of London like Madam Tussauds and Kings Cross Station. We also saw the Grenfell tower from quite a close distance, and it was really poignant. I was a little stunned at seeing it for myself. I learnt that the Harry Potter series didn’t film at Kings Cross but at St. Pancras which is across the road because the latter station had more of a gothic feel whilst Kings Cross was originally a little bit of a dump (my dad’s words, not mine).

To get to Disneyland, we had to take the Eurostar from St. Pancras to Lilles Europe, and then we walked to a station ten minutes away that went from Lilles Flandres to Marne-la-Vallee – which is literally just outside the gates to the resort. There’s a bus station where you catch shuttle buses to the hotels; we were in the Vienna Dream Castle hotel, so we took a shuttlebus to drop our luggage off before going back to visit the park. By the time we got around to going into the park, it was about four in the afternoon (French time – we lost an hour going from England to France).

The Park

As you can imagine, getting into the park from the first gates takes some time; first you have to go through a baggage check area where your bag goes through a machine and you go through a metal detector. My dad set off alarms for having a watch and coins in his pocket, so they had to wave a wand-thing over his entire body and have him empty his pockets. Next, one you pass security, you have to walk up to where the actual Disney hotel is and you have to put your ticket in the machine to scan it – this lets you into the main park, and you’re free to roam!

Quick clarification on the layout of the park: it’s split into various areas. There’s Discoveyland, Fantasyland, Frontier-land, Adventureland, the main street…we weren’t there for long, so we didn’t get to see all of it, sadly.

Sunday in Disneyland Paris

When you first enter the actual park (as opposed to the Studio park), you come out onto a street full of shops; they sell the same things in every one, pretty much, but there are also restaurants too. If you walk straight up, you see Sleeping Beauty’s castle in the background – which, trust me, is a really amazing sight even in broad daylight.

My dad suggested that we take the train around the park to look around so that we knew the park areas, so we agreed – and the queue, guys, was insane. Let me tell you now, at Disneyland Paris you have to learn to either not let people push or you have to push yourself. People really don’t care for being polite, they just want to do things ASAP. We queued for the train for like an hour, being pushed by a seven year old and surrounded by screaming babies before getting on; we made it to two different stops before the ride stopped and the staff said they couldn’t run rides because of the parade. We decided, fuck it, and left the train to watch the parade.

We were late so we didn’t see a lot of the parade but we saw enough to appreciate it; my dad had a proper camera and got way better shots than I did on my phone, so I’ll have to see if I can share those soon. After the parade (I can’t even describe it, it was that amazing), we went to grab a drink and then decided we’d head out for some other rides.

Before the rides, my sister wanted to buy Minnie Mouse ears and I decided to get my BATB baseball cap because the sun was really bright and it covered my hair. We visited Sleeping Beauty’s castle, looking at the dragon underneath, and then headed off for Fantasy-land. We went on two rides in Fantasyland, on my sister’s request; the first was a little boat ride that took you around to look at mini-versions of scenes from famous fairy-tales. Ciara loved the Rapunzel one (Tangled is her favourite, she says) whereas I love the Beauty and the Beast one with Belle in her village. This would have been a lot more fun, had the ride not kept stopping (I think it was because people were struggling to climb in and out of moving boats). The second ride was a “junior train” based on Dumbo’s circus train, and that was fun whilst also being tame.

Then my mum had the wild and random idea of doing the “Star Wars” ride – by which she meant Hyperspace Mountain (I’m not sure if that’s the name – it was something like that). She was like, “Oh, I never do rollercoasters, I have to do it for the guys at work” so we were like “hm, okay, we already regret this but…”

THIS RIDE WAS TERRIFYING. Basically, you’re held in by those things you put over your shoulder and you go hurtling through the dark whilst stuff flashes and shoots, and you go really high before dropping all at once and upside and… By the end of it, my mum was sobbing with mascara running down her face, my dad was queasy and had to run to find a bench, and I was almost-certain that I had, in fact, shit my pants (I didn’t) whilst struggling to stand because the urge to vomit was too strong.

There’s a reason that ride is not for young children.

After this, we decided that we were going to take a break on the rides until the next day; we found out that at eleven each evening there was the Disney Illuminations show so we had to kill time before doing that. We ended up eating something at a food bar before wandering around and ending up in Frontierland – i.e. the wild west. My mum pissed about trying to find a cowboy hat whilst I checked out the cute plushes (I don’t care if I’m 19, the plushes were adorable). My mum ended up not buying a cowboy hat that evening because she was worried she’d look stupid (she did buy one later).

We settled down to watch the show at twenty-past-ten – and it was packed. People had literally sat and waited hours to claim the best positions, so we only got to see the upper bit from the side. I bought myself a glowing-night-sparkly-necklace-thing (you know how people wave those flickering lights about? Yeah, like that).

I’m going to talk about Disney Illuminations properly on the second night because we saw all of it on the second night, but it’s amazing in every sense of the word. It’s incredible. More on that later, however!

After the show, the park was closing – and the mad rush of 50, 000 (at least) people trying to push their way to the exit at once was terrifying. My dad and Ciara got separated from me and my mum several times. We somehow managed to fight our way all the way out and onto the first shuttlebus to get back to the hotel where we had a drink at the bar before going to bed.

Monday at Disneyland Paris

After we showered and had breakfast, we set off early again – it took ages, of course, to go through security and all that, but finally we were ready to go. We had established a day plan at Breakfast: head to Frontierland, start with Phantom Manner and work our way around.

Phantom Manor was a little bit of a wait but not too long; that was pretty fun – not terribly frightening when you’re my age and have been several times, but interesting nonetheless. My dad chickened out of going on the Thunder Mountain train, so me, my Mum and Ciara queued for just under an hour to go on that – we all agreed it was worth it, and we were all laughing and having fun by the end. It’s a ride where you’re on a train and hurtling around an abandoned mine, but it’s outside and you can get a little splashed (which, given the weather, was welcomed).

After this, my mum finally relented and bought a cowboy hat for herself; we had a go at the shooting range (Two euro a go) before getting more drinks and continuing on. Everyone wanted to try the new Pirates of the Caribbean ride, so we set off to find that, well aware that we’d probably have to queue for an hour.

And then, as I was walking past the lagoon, I saw Peter and Wendy from Peter Pan doing meet-and-greet.

I have wanted to meet Peter since I came to the park on the French immersion trip but I’ve never been able to. The line didn’t actually appear too long, so after bickering over it with my family I went to queue up alone; they waited in the shade, looking pissed as hell. My sister and dad left, in the end, while my mum waited to take a picture (begrudgingly, I might add).

I want to write about meeting Peter and Wendy in a separate post because I feel that it really deserves a separate post of its own.

After the meet-and-greet, my mum and I went to queue up for Pirates, and by this point my dad and sister were near the front so we were an hour behind. It was an okay ride, just log-flumes really, though apparently my sister and dad had a far more interesting experience because their ride stopped and ended up getting bumped repeatedly.

We met them afterwards, in the gift shop; by this time, we were all shattered, it was nearly four in the afternoon, and my sister kept begging to visit the restaurant “Annette’s” (a 50s styled diner). So we walked for half an hour, our feet killing us, all hot and sweaty and sticky, and got there – only to find that there was a queue just to be seated. It took another half an hour for us to be given a table, though after that the speed was pretty good.

My dad found an unattended bag in the men’s bathroom and had to tell security. The food was delicious, don’t get me wrong – but I ate far too much. I would have probably been fine, if not for the combination of the Coke float and the Cookie Dough Ice-cream sundae. (I got glutty, I know)

It was so bad that for the rest of the afternoon/evening I was a) constipated and b) had trapped wind. That sounds hilarious but it was in reality very painful.

We all did a bit of shopping, staying together for some of it and then splitting up for an hour before meeting at a bench facing the castle – it was 7:30 (I think?) and my dad and Ciara wanted to go back to the hotel to go to the bar; me and my mum wanted to stay for the Illumination show. In the end, we won out and we stayed – but we had to remain seated on that bench for three and a half hours. I darted off a few times to a) watch the Disney princesses dancing a short distance away (so did Ciara and my dad, to be honest), b) get a bottle of Coke and c) get popcorn. By the time I came back with popcorn, it was dark and it was impossible to get back to the bench without stepping on someone who was sitting down and waiting. After that, we had no choice but to stay at the bench.

In the end, it all paid off because we got an amazing view of the Disney Illuminations show!

Disney Illuminations

Starting at 11pm each night, it’s a show where clips of various Disney films and the like are projected onto Sleeping Beauty’s castle whilst music plays; there are also fireworks, fire bursts, water splashing/bursting…it’s amazing, well and truly.

I’m not sure I should be revealing the entire show on here because I saw it with no idea of what to expect, and it was amazing. I will tell you that there’s segments involving Mickey, The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo, Pirates of the Caribbean, Beauty and the Beast (2017), Star Wars, Frozen and then a big finale. It’s about 20-30 minutes long. If you really want to watch it, then I’m sure it’s available on YouTube.

I will talk about the BATB section though because it made me tear up! I wrote a post in my notebook about why Belle is my favourite princess and why seeing Belle when I was little/growing up really impacted me (a girl who likes books? Dude, that’s me sold!) I loved the remake, perhaps more than the original in some ways, and besides that – seeing Emma Watson’s face projected on a Disney castle was a little too much for my overly-sensitive ass to handle, so I ended up crying during the whole thing (in a good way – it was beautiful).

Things I bought

I went with eight-five euro, and I have hardly any left because of how expensive everything is!

So the BATB cap I bought was €24.99 – I think I posted a picture earlier.

I bought the necklace lights which were €6 (I thought they were 10, so yay on that)

I bought a small Mickey plush for €17.99 – and he’s TINY. I dread to think what the massive over-sized ones cost.

Finally I bought a Limited Edition Beauty and the Beast pin for €13.99 – it’s a book with “Beauty and the Beast” written on the cover, and when you open it (like a locket), there’s a picture of Emma Watson as Belle inside.

*

All in all, I really enjoyed my holiday – I wish we could have stayed for longer but…alas, we booked pretty late. If we go again in the near future, I hope we book to go longer because there just wasn’t enough time for everything. :/

But other than that, I had fun! :D It was the break I feel I needed to get away from stuff, so hopefully in the future I’ll be a little more chilled about things.