“I Can Fix Him” except you have no idea you’re doing it because all you do is annoy the shit out of him
Simon keeps choosing to come back. Makes the decision to return to earth over, and over, and over until he washes his hands of the sin of that first life. Untill the blood of a thousand lifetimes no longer stains his nail beds in damning red halos.
It never works. Something always goes terribly, awfully wrong.
His family. His mates. His team. All trails lead to the delta of a crimson river.
After several millennia, he thought he’d seen it all.
He’d seen the devastation of Genesis. The rise and fall of empires. The brutality of man. Simon Riley is Intimately familiar with the horrors of humanity. Has spent countless lives witnessing its atrocities.
This will be his last life, his soul weary, and resigned to a destiny penned in sanguineous ink.
He has given up, and so he does not try. He does not try to be an extraordinary man. He does not shoulder burdens that have set his shoulders in a permanent, severe slope.
He lives an unremarkable life with ordinary afflictions. A boring life with pithy, mundane troubles. He retreats into himself and stays there, content to spend his last days in the monotony of an ordinary human life.
And then there’s you.
To Simon, you’re the furthest thing from ordinary. You’re stubbornly persistent, deny yourself nothing, seem utterly unfazed by his nihilistic tendencies. And, worst of all—Simon has met every soul, encountered their each and every version across the history of the planet—he’s never encountered yours.
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fucking hate it when the stuff everybody says "actually works" does actually work.
hate exercising and realizing i've let go of a lot of anxiety and anger because i've overturned my fight-or-flight response.
hate eating right and eating enough and eating 3 times a day and realizing i'm less anxious and i have more energy
hate journaling in my stupid notebook with my stupid bic ballpoint and realizing that i've actually started healing about something once i'm able to externalize it
hate forgiving myself hate complimenting myself more often hate treating myself with kindness hate taking a gratitude inventory hate having patience hate talking to myself gently
hate turning my little face up to the sun and taking deep breaths and looking at nature and grounding myself and realizing that i feel less burdened and more hopeful, more actually-here, that i am able to see the good sides of myself more clearly, that i am able to see not only how far i have to grow - but also how much growth i have already done & how much of my life i truly fill with light and laughter and love
horrible horrible horrible. hate it but i'm gonna do it tho
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BIGGEST FUMBLE IN MEDICAL HISTORY: cute girl assigned MALE at BIRTH?
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alastor with little snek luci
I read a fic where alastor goes out w luci on his shoulders as a snake and the ideas been living rent free in my head since then so there u go
Edited edited edit (sorry): actually I was mostly inspired by this post (screenshot below) but I’ll still link Permission to Touch because the sketches were a little based on chapter 4 anyway
(doodling Lucifer being annoyed by alastor is my new hobby) (along w alastor making fun of Lucifer)
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I started to smell smoke and hear screams from upstairs. I ran upstairs, and when I got there, the house was just a burned frame.
twitter / instagram
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