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alexthesillybilly · 5 months

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What if springtrap x reader but I write it from springtraps POV idk I wanna study him this is rlly similar to another thing I wrote btw if it feels familiar :P idk why but I love writing this exact scene lmao

God, how long has it been? Months? Years? Decades? How was I supposed to know? I haven't spoken to anyone since I was left in here, and I probably never will again. I'm still trying to figure out what to do to pass the time. At first my methods were a little more about escaping, but clawing at the walls and slamming my self against the door was both very painful, and was also not doing anything for me, so I stopped doing those pretty quickly. Then I remembered there were arcade machines in this room! But then I remembered that this is the parts and service room and they were out of order. And very unplayable. But that didn't stop me, I ended up disassembling and putting them back together a few times.

That got boring, too.

Now I'm not really sure what to do. I spend a lot of my time either fidgeting with loose wires or pacing around like some kind of scared animal. After I stopped having the indescribable dread of realizing I was trapped here, it changed to craving something. Anything, really. Whether it was hearing music from outside, seeing a color other than pitch black, feeling anything other than the freezing cold tile floor and my own pain.

I think I mostly craved company, though.

I was never into psychology, but speaking from experience, I'm pretty sure that completely depriving a human of any communication or entertainment for years (decades??) will fuck someone up.

There's some sort of noise around the door. It's happened a few times, usually someone who broke in trying to get into the room before discovering it's boarded up. I don't know who boarded up this room, but I'd like to have a talk with them. Only a little murder included. So I don't get my hopes up too much. They're not going to get in.

So maybe I get a little excited when for the first time, I actually DO hear the door crack open and light pour in.

Holy shit, it's happening.

I can finally get out of here.

I felt nearly manic at the sight. So imagine my thoughts when someone walked in.

I freeze. What do I do?

There is so much I want to say.

Can I even talk?

I don't know anymore.

Who is this?

I try to look at them without moving. Nobody I recognize. That's probably a good thing.

If I move, I might scare them.

On one hand, then I'd be able to leave.

But on the other hand, I need to talk to someone, ANYONE, so bad that I can't let then leave already.

So I stay still while they approach.

They must not be deterred by the sight of me, surprisingly, because they crouch down beside me like I'm not... like this.

"What the hell are you?" They laugh under their breath. Wow, okay. First words spoken to me in this long. I deserve that, though.

I need to talk so bad but how am I supposed to talk to anyone now? I don't even remember how it works, let alone if I physically could. I pray they'll ask a yes-or-no question soon.

They stand back up.

No. No, no, no, not already. They can't leave. I have to risk it.

I try my best to tell them not to go. It comes out as more of a noise you'd make on your deathbed, but it's enough to get them to stop in their tracks.

"No. Nope, I am NOT being your horror movie protagonist who dies first, nope. Not today." They turn to run out the door. This time I'm prepared. Kind of.

"No-" I manage to choke out before realizing how much it hurts to speak, and very pathetically falling against the wall in pain. I have to get the message through, though. "Don't go."

"Hooly shit." The person stares at me in horror. "I have so many questions."

Talking hurts so bad, but nothing hurts worse than my indescribable loneliness, so I'll just have to deal with that later. I have to say something.

"Me too."

#springtrap #fnaf 3 #springtrap x reader #self shipping community #fnaf f/o #fnaf #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #yooo im writing!!#girl talk

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seas-storyarchive · 4 months

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Hell's Grief, Brings Heaven's Reign - radiorose au

[[MORE]]

Rosie saw him. Alastor went right over the building. She ran to where he was falling, hoping no one would see-

But everyone saw him. Falling. Down, down until- the cracking was defeaning.

That crack.. oh.. oh no, no.. she'd have to spend months waiting on him hand and foot but.. Rosie pushed those thoughts out of her head the moment she saw Alastor. There was no saving him. He'd already died before he hit the grass.

"Al.." She choked, approaching him. She saw his bones had poked through the- no, don't focus on that. Look at his face-

Broken antler, blood- blood- blood! His face, still twisted into that fucking smile from that cunt that owned his soul, had the x from where he got the shot that killed him. His eyes were..

"Oh Alastor.. I.." Rosie choked out, falling to her knees. "I'm so sorry love." She looked at his face, still in a smile. But his eyes, wide, with terror and fear.

Sorrow mixed with rage and wanting blood. And something in Rosie snapped. She lost herself in a blind rage, quickly getting up and rushing at the nearby angels.

Alastor was confused, not understanding were he was. Well, he knew where he now stood, but not how or why he was standing there.

"Hello! What's your name?" The man at the podium before the gates asked, a smile on his face.

"A.. Alastor A-" he caught himself, it wasn't Hell.. so maybe.. "I- I mean Dupuis. Alastor Dupuis, my fine fellow."

Alastor looked at his hands, still red hoof-like fingers on black buck arms. He felt something on his back, and flexed it- wings. He had wings! He was wearing white - a garish color for him - a robe. Why is it always white and a robe? Oh the horror that overcame him, should Rosie see him. Oh.. Rosie.

The man, one Saint Peter himself, looked through the names- and raised his eyebrow when the name was suddenly squeezed in.

"Wow! A new arrival!" Peter was excited. "I wasn't expecting to see you, like ever! That poor woman waited outside the gates for nearly 50 years for you." He looked up to see Alastor looking at his hands. "Well, come on." He opened the gate for Alastor, still smiling.

Alastor, having heard all of this - how his mother waited five decades for him, oh how she must have wanted to ring his ears for being late. Oh, she and Rosie would have gotten along.

But, he and his mother were here, in Heaven. Rosie was down there, in Hell, with everyone else. Fighting.

"I.. I can't." Alastor said suddenly, looking at Peter. "I won't leave them."

Peter sighed, "It's.. it's complicated, buddy. You probably won't even get back down there."

He had a determined look on his face. "I have to go back. I am going back." And, happily, Alastor found out that his shadow worked and dropped him into the clouds. Vanishing down.

"Wait!" Peter tried to stop him, moving out from behind the pedestal but Alastor already vanished. "Shoot, shoot. Ah~ Sera isn't going to like this~" the saint was taking deep breathes, trying to calm down. Oh, this was the last thing they needed to happen.

Back in Hell, Rosie had been slashing through angels, moving towards Adam - whom was now on the ground and beating cannibals left and right.

A feral growl left her as she went to attack him - only get punched by Adam. She growled and went back for it.

"Ooh! We got a feral bitch!" Adam flew out of her range, taunting her.

"I'll kill you and drink wine from your skull as I feast on your entrails!" Rosie hissed, making swipes at him with her clawed hands.

Adam punched Rosie again, this time hard enough to stun her, and grabbed her neck. "Oh you crazy, old timey bitch." He was disgusted as he took to the sky of hell with Rosie. "Say hi to your old timey bitch of a boytoy!"

He spun them and then threw her down towards the ground, laughing maniacally as she screamed. Only to get blindsided when the barrier of Hell's sky was broken, and something shoot down from it. It blasted by Adam, making the man spin in place in response.

"What the fuck?" Adam looked from the woman to the dragons approaching.

So, this is how Rosie died, again. Falling who knew how many feet down to the ground to join Alastor. Oh Al.. if only she told him how much she loved him. If he wasn't dead, she would hold close and kiss him, run her fingers through his hair and wings- wait, hold the fucking phone!

"Got you!" Said the familiar voice, as familiar arms wrap around her in a familiar way, the flapping of wings she was something new.

"A- Alastor?" Rosie asked, looking at the face of her saviour.

"I'm here, Rosie." The face and voice were him, but.. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, love." He descended to the ground, and set her down on the grass.

"Alastor Altruist! What the fuck were you thinking?!" Rosie grabbed him by the collar of his suit jacket and shaking him.

"Rosie, love, I-"

All of a sudden Lucifer and Adam crashed down from the sky. The former kicking the crap out of the latter.

Charlie was seen rushing over, and then Lucifer stopped. One could hear him ask, to the first man, "how does mercy taste, bitch?"

"Hmm. Poetic." Alastor said, in sarcasm as he watched all of this. Before turning to Rosie. "You were saying-"

His ears and tail stood at attention, before he moaned into the kiss, suddenly gripping Rosie close to him as he surrendered to the kiss. When they broke, everyone was looking at them.

"Pretty snazzy get up you got dhere, Smiles." Angel said, smiling but the man also with tears in his eyes.

"Oh, this, Angel dear? Pfft, tacky bit of laundry." Alastor said, waving his hand.

"Hey, Antlers." Lucifer drew their attention, looking at the six winged king of Hell as he retracted his wings. "You left Heaven."

Alastor ruffled his feathers. "Very astute of you," he said in a sarcastic manner.

"Well, I mean.. it's the whole point of the Hotel-" Lucifer looked from the pair to Charlie, "so they can get to Heaven?"

"Sire, I left Heaven to come back and save my Rosie." Alastor said, defensively as his festhers ruffled even further. "For I could not bear the thought of her dying an altruistic death without her consent."

"You've basically made yourself a fallen angel, jackass!" Lucifer and Vaggie shouted at almost the same time.

"I am aware. But, as I said, my Rosie's life was worth it." Alastor said.

Rosie, having gone quiet, looked at Alastor. "You.. gave that up? Eternal sunshine and Heaven's light.. for little ol' me?"

Alastor turned to Rosie. "I did indeed. There is no heaven without you. Not for me. Call me a fool, but a fool who finally knows what love is and will go against Heaven's wishes to be at your side, until you decide you are sick of me and send me away."

Rosie began to hit him, repeatedly with her hands, both touched and pissed off. "You sap! You fucking bucket ah tree sap! I'd kill you again if I wasn't so touched by your stupid fucking antics!"

Alastor's wings moved to block her blows, looking to the others. "Love, mes amis, is worth it."

"Uh huh.." Husker raised an eyebrow at the two.

"Why are you- Rosie, doll, care to scratch somewhere?" Alastor didn't wait for a reply and instead turned so Rosie had access to his wings. "Where they connect to my back- ooh~ a little harder, yes~!"

He grinned at the feeling for a moment, oh that spot was Heaven and got his tail wagging, before he looked to the others. "Looking, for this?" His shadow produced a book that it handed him. "Here we go.." Alastor looked at the contracts before he began to rip them in half within the book, the ripped pieces breaking and scattering to the wind.

Husker and Niffty's chains appear, before breaking.

"About fuckin' time." Husk sighed in relief.

"You don't want me to help anymore?" Niffty asked, her eyes wide. She soundes hurt.

"Roise, stop for a second." At Alastor's words, Rosie stopped, before the man walked forwards and knelt down in front of Niffty.

"Niffty.." he sighed, "I have a lot to do to be truly honest with everyone. And it all starts with saying I'm sorry for putting those chains on you. For acting how I did. I.. still want to be your friend, will you let me?" He held out a hand, his pointer and middle fingers extended.

Niffty, thinking it over, smiled widely and took his fingers in her hand with a smile. "Sure! I'd hate to think about what you all would do without me anyway!" She then giggled insanly.

Alastor let out an insane laugh as well. "Why, we'd be over run with bugs, my dear." He smiled.

"Uh, Antlers?" Lucifer's voice cut in.

"Yes?" Alastor looked over to Lucifer, only to get punched. "My good sir, what the devil-"

"Exactly, moron! You fucking BROKE the sky and- huh.." Lucifer looked at the sky as it repaired itself. "Never mind." He looked back to Alastor. "Fuck you still."

Alastor and Rosie went back and forth between the hotel site and Cannibal Town, helping with constructing the hotel (Alastor) and running cannibal town (Rosie). Alastor got a good workout with his wings, and Rosie loved being chauffeured about. Alastor was still a cannibal, heaven would have to kill him again repeatedly before he gave that up and thus ruined his and Rosie's at home date nights.

They were happy. Everyone was happy. Especially when the hotel was built.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hells grief heavens reign au #angel alastor au #technically fallen angel au #radiorose #episode 8 au #alastor altruist #rosie

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bjfinn · 7 months

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BOOK OF SHADOWS

"School of Rock"/"Beetlejuice" crossover

(inspired by a question from @geek-or-something)

Dewey sat back in his chair, frowning slightly. He had no idea how that spellbook had come to be at Horace Green.

"I found it in a box in the basement," Katie had said when questioned about it. "It was with the other Halloween decorations."

"Show me," Dewey had asked, and the two of them went downstairs to the basement. Katie had shown him the box in which she'd found the book -- just run-of-the-mill spooky decorations. Nothing else that even hinted at real witchcraft.

He'd asked around, but none of the other staff had seemed to know anything.

It was a mystery -- and Dewey Finn didn't like mysteries. Not at his school, at any rate. Not when the kids could have been in danger.

The one thing he knew was that it hadn't been put there by Beej -- it just wasn't the demon's style. Beej was about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Putting a spellbook where it might be found, eventually, by someone curious enough to read it out loud? And how could he have known they'd read the exact spell that would summon him?

"Fuck," he said under his breath. "Where did it come from?"

He stood up suddenly, pacing around his office, trying to work it out in his head.

"It's an old school," he muttered. "The book ... could've been there for years -- decades ... maybe it even belonged to Horace Green himself. Who knows, right? I mean ... maybe he was into that kind of stuff -- lots of people were, back then.

"But how did it end up in the box of Halloween decorations? Well, somebody coulda found it and, uh ... figured that's where it belonged -- it's a spellbook, so it must be a Halloween decoration, 'cause spells aren't real. Yeah, that's probably what they thought -- how were they to know that it was real?

"But why didn't anyone find it last year? O-or the ... the year before? Why only this year?

"Ah, shit! Come on, man -- you can figure this out!"

There was a knock on the door, and Rosalie poked her head in. "I heard you muttering to yourself," she said. "Is everything all right, Mr Finn?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied. "Yeah, everything's good, Ros- uh, Ms Mullins. Just tryna figure something out."

She entered the office, closing the door behind her. "Maybe I can help."

Dewey shook his head. "No, uh ... I mean, that's okay -- it's nothing, really ... just something I've been wondering about recently."

"Are you sure? Two heads are better than one."

"Yeah, no, I'm sure -- it's, uh ... it's not really that important."

Rosalie looked dubious for a moment, and then nodded. "All right," she said. "I'll leave you to it. But if you need any help --"

"Yeah, thanks," he replied, forcing a smile. "I will. But I'll be all right."

She came over to him and placed her hands on his chest. "Are we still on for tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, of course!" came the reply, and now his smile was genuine.

"I'll see you at eight, then, Mr Finn."

"Looking forward to it, Ms Mullins."

*****

Dewey opened the door. "Hi," he said. "Wow -- you look great!"

"Thank you," Rosalie replied with a smile. "You were so mysterious about what you have planned -- are you going to fill me in now?"

"Uh, yeah ... of course. I thought we'd --"

"Hey, Dewey!" Beej said. "Hi, Rosalie!"

Oh, shit!

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Not now!" Dewey hissed at him. He grabbed a throw blanket and tried to hide the mirror before Rosalie saw.

Too late.

"Is that your ... friend? BJ?" she exclaimed. "How --"

Dewey turned to her in a panic. "I-it's not what you think! Well, okay, it is what you think, but I, uh ... hahaha! Uh, well, it's kind of a funny story -- you're gonna laugh so hard ... umm, uh, well, see ... it's like this --"

"Dewey? What's going on?" Rosalie asked. "How -- how is BJ in the mirror?"

"That's what I'm tryna tell you." That's what I'm tryna figure out how not to tell you, he thought. "He's, uh ... well, see -- Beej is , uh ... he's kind of a --"

"Just tell her already!" Beej said from the blanket-covered mirror.

"No! "

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing -- it's nothing, really ... it's just, uh ... it's --"

"Ah, crap!" Beej said, stepping out of the mirror and tossing the blanket aside. "I gotta do everything around here!"

Rosalie paled at the sight. "What the --"

"Fuck off, Beej!" Dewey growled.

"Face it, pal -- the jig is up," Beej told him. "It was up as soon as she saw me."

"What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?"

"I just wanted to see my pal! Is that a crime?"

"No -- no, of course not. It's great to see you, but your ... your timing could be better."

"Dewey," Rosalie said, a hand over her mouth, "how did he ... how ..."

"Rosalie," Dewey said, holding her by the shoulders, "I can explain --"

"How the hell did he come out of the mirror??? "

"Good choice of words," Beej quipped.

"Will you leave? " Dewey hissed.

"No way! I wanna stay and watch the shitshow!"

"If you don't leave right now," Dewey snarled, balling his fists, "I swear to God I'm gonna --"

"What is happening here??? " Rosalie wailed. "Somebody tell me right now!!! "

"Dammit, Beej," Dewey said angrily. He turned back to the near hysterical woman. "Rosalie, I -- I didn't want you to find out this way," he said. "I was tryna think of a way to tell you -- I swear ... but ... ah, fuck. Okay, here goes. Uh ... okay. Well, you remember the Halloween party? The one at the school? Well, one of the kids found a book --"

"A book."

"Yeah, uh ... it was in a box of decorations," he said. "See, it was a spellbook, and Katie -- she's the one who found it -- thought it was one of the decorations, right? Of course she did, it was in the box. So she brought it upstairs and ... and the kids were looking through it, and ... and they read one of the spells. Out loud. But it wasn't just a decoration -- the book, I mean. It was a real spellbook. And the spell -- the one they read out loud -- it was a real spell, you know, and, uh ... well, it kinda sorta --"

"It was a summoning spell," Beej interjected.

"A ... summoning spell?"

"Yeah," Dewey nodded. "And it, uh ... it summoned --"

"Me," Beej said.

"You?" Rosalie was completely lost. "What does that mean?"

"Well," Dewey began, "Beej is, um ... he's a ..."

"I'm a demon."

"What?"

Dewey dropped his chin to his chest, defeated. "He's a demon," he said.

"Well, half-ghost, half-demon, actually," Beej added, hoping to clarify things. "See, my mom was a demon and --"

"Not now, Beej!"

"Sorry for tryna put things in perspective!" the demon shot back. "Jeez, can't a guy finish a fuckin' sentence around here?"

"Look -- Rosalie," Dewey said. "He's a demon -- but he's a good guy, I swear. He's my friend -- and yeah, I know that sounds crazy -- hell, this whole situation is crazy, but it's true. Beej -- Beetlejuice -- is my demon friend."

"From Hell," Beej added helpfully. "We call it the Netherworld."

"And that's how he came out of the mirror."

He looked at her, uncertain as to how she was going to react.

Rosalie said nothing for a long moment.

"Are ... are you okay? Rosalie?"

"Where did the book come from?" she asked.

"Uh, well ... that's what I've been trying to figure out," Dewey replied. "I ... I asked around the school, but nobody seems to know anything about it."

"What about you?" she asked Beej. "Do you know anything about it?"

Beej shook his head vigorously. "No! I swear I have nothing to do with this! I never even seen the book -- Dewey never showed it to me."

"Your summoning spell is in it," Rosalie said. "Maybe if you saw the book you might recognise it, and you could at least tell us who it belongs to."

The demon shrugged. "Worth a try," he said.

Rosalie turned to Dewey. "Do you have it here?"

"Yeah," he replied, already rummaging around. "I figured I shouldn't leave it at the school. Ah! Here it is!" He grinned, holding up a large, leather-bound volume.

"Liber Umbrarum," Rosalie said, reading the embossed title on the cover. "Book of Shadows." She took the book and opened it, began leafing through the pages, looking for some clue as to the identity of the owner.

"It's very old," she said. "A couple of centuries, I'd say ... some of it's in Latin, some of it ... Irish, I think? Or Welsh, maybe? There's Old English, Middle English ... Old French? Different handwriting, too -- it's probably been passed down from generation to generation." She looked up suddenly. "Beej -- take a look. Do you recognise the handwriting of your spell? It's one of the more recent ones."

"I can't read so good," he told her. "And it's a Book of Shadows -- I can't touch it."

"You don't have to," she told him. "I'll hold it for you. And you don't need to read it -- just look at the writing. Does it seem familiar?"

She turned to the page with his summoning spell and showed it to him.

The demon squinted at the page for a moment, and then he nodded. "I've seen that writing before," he said, frowning. "But ... I can't remember where."

Rosalie sighed softly. "That's okay -- at least it's a --"

"Alex!" Beej exclaimed suddenly.

"Who's Alex?" Dewey asked.

"She's a witch," Beej told him. "She summoned me once ... it wasn't that long ago. Maybe -- twenty years? Thirty? I don't know -- time moves differently in the Netherworld."

"Do you remember her last name?"

"Mudport? Midtown? I don't know -- something like that." He gave her a sheepish look, his hair turning magenta. "Sorry."

"That's okay, Beej," Dewey said, putting a hand on the demon's shoulder. "You tried -- and it's more than we knew before. Right, Rosalie?"

She nodded distractedly. "Uh, yeah -- you did good, Beej. Mudport. Mudport. That sounds familiar ..." She looked up at them. "I'm sure I've seen that name -- or something like it -- before. Let me look through the alumni records -- maybe this Alex was a student at Horace Green once."

"You think she left the book at the school by accident?" Dewey asked. "An elementary school kid?"

Rosalie shook her head. "No, of course not," she replied. "But a lot of former students donate books to the library -- the Book of Shadows may have gotten mixed in by mistake."

"Or maybe it wasn't a mistake," Beej said.

"What -- you think she might've donated it on purpose?" Dewey asked.

"No, Alex wouldn't do that," came the reply. "But someone else -- or something else -- might've."

"Something else?"

"Yeah, like a higher power," the demon said. "Maybe they wanted me and Dewey to meet and become friends for some reason."

"Why?" Dewey asked.

"I don't know -- let me ask." Beej pulled a cellphone from his jacket pocket and keyed in a series of numbers before holding it up to his ear. "Hello? Is this the Higher Powers Department? Yeah, this is BJ -- did you guys leave a Book of Shadows at Horace Green Academy? Horace Green. In New York -- right. Okay, I'm here with two breathers -- yeah, I know ... I know, all right? Jeez! Anyway, they -- yeah, uh-huh ... okay ... right. I'll tell 'em. Okay, thanks. Bye."

He ended the call.

"Well?" Dewey asked impatiently. "What did they say?"

"They said you need to get your head examined, asshole -- you think I can just call the higher powers and ask? "

"Quit fucking around," Dewey snapped. "This isn't a joke!"

"Calm down, both of you," Rosalie said, stepping between them. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Just -- just let me do some digging. We'll get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, try not to kill each other."

"No promises," Beej said, scowling at his friend.

*****

The next afternoon, even though it was a Saturday, saw Rosalie at Horace Green, leafing through a century's worth of alumni records.

"Mudport?" she muttered. "Midport?" She shook her head. "I know I've seen a name like that ... somewhere in here -- aha! " she exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out a file. "Medford , Alexandra -- I knew it!"

She took the file over to her desk and sat down to go over it.

"Alexandra Medford," she read aloud. "Born May 20th, 1946 in Eastwick, Rhode Island ..."

She picked up the phone and dialled.

"Dewey? I may have something -- can you come to the school? Yeah, as soon as you can ... All right, see you -- huh? Uh, yeah, Beej can come if he --"

"We got here as soon as we could," Dewey said -- he and Beej were standing in her office.

Rosalie, her mouth open in shock, hung up the phone. "How ... how did you ..."

"I'm a demon," Beej told her.

"Man, what a rush!" Dewey said, grinning.

Rosalie shook her head rapidly and said, "I think I found something -- does the name Alexandra Medford sound familiar to you, Beej? From Eastwick, Rhode Island?"

"That's her! Alex Medford!"

"Okay -- that's a start. It says here that she donated to the library several times over the years ... she's now living in a retirement home in Eastwick." She reached for the phone again. "I'll call and see if we can arrange a visit with her."

Beej and Dewey grinned at each other.

"Road trip!" Beej said.

*****

The following morning saw the three of them in Dewey's van, heading along the highway to New England, Beej in the back seat.

Beej had wanted to teleport them, but Dewey had vetoed the idea. "I don't think Rosalie's ready for that yet," he'd explained.

"Are we there yet?" Beej asked.

"We just entered Connecticut," Dewey told him. "Still a long way to go."

"Hey, I got an idea! How 'bout we swing by and pick up Lydia?"

"Sorry, pal," Dewey replied. "Winter River's not on the way -- it's too much of a detour."

"Oh," the demon said, disappointed. He was silent for a few moments, and then he asked, "Are we there yet?"

Dewey and Rosalie rolled their eyes at one another, smiling.

"It's gonna be a looong trip," Dewey said.

*****

At long last Dewey pulled into the parking lot of Sunset Acres. He parked the van, and the three of them got out and made their way to the entrance of the building.

They approached the front desk, where they were greeted by a young woman with mousy blonde hair and a name-tag that read "Kimberly".

"How may I help you?" she asked.

"We're here to visit one of your residents," Rosalie replied. "Alexandra Medford. My name is Rosalie Mullins -- I called yesterday."

"Yes, I remember!" Kimberly said, smiling. She stood and came around the desk. "Alex is looking forward to it -- unfortunately, she doesn't get many visitors these days. She's having lunch now, but you can wait in the parlour -- it won't be too long. It's this way."

"Thank you," Rosalie said.

"How is Alex doing?" Beej asked as they followed Kimberly down the corridor.

"Quite well," the young woman replied. "She has a few problems with her memory, but nothing too serious, and she walks with a cane, but otherwise she's all right." She glanced at them. "Are you family?"

Dewey shook his head. "No," he told her. "BJ here is a ... an old friend of hers, and Rosalie is the headmistress of Alex's old school. I-I'm the driver."

"Well, I'm sure she'll be happy to see you all. Here we are -- make yourselves comfortable, and I'll bring Alex when she's finished eating."

"Thanks," Beej said.

Kimberly smiled in reply, but her eyebrows dipped in puzzlement at the demon's appearance, wondering where Alex knew him from.

A few minutes later, Kimberly reappeared, accompanied by an elderly lady. Alex Medford might have been in her mid-seventies, but she was still a strikingly beautiful woman -- tall and slim, with a Mediterranean complexion, she had alert brown eyes, a long, straight nose, lips full and sensuous, with a mass of long silver curls framing her classical features.

Rosalie and Dewey both wondered what she had looked like when Beej knew her -- when she was in her prime, the woman must have been absolutely stunning.

"Alex," Kimberly said, "these people have come all the way from New York to see you. Isn't that lovely?"

"I'm Rosalie, and these are my colleagues Dewey and --"

"BJ? Is that really you? My God -- you haven't changed a bit!"

"And you're still as hot as ever, Alex!" Beej replied. "We should make out -- for old times sake."

"You couldn't handle me then," she told him with a grin, "and you can't handle me now, you old reprobate!"

He scowled comically. "Hey!" he said. "I got a reputation to uphold!"

"So what brings you all here?"

"I'm the headmistress of Horace Green Academy, and we found something that we wanted to ask you about."

Dewey reached into his satchel and pulled out the spellbook. "This is yours, right?" he asked.

"Wh-- how did you get that?" she asked.

"It was in a box of books that you donated to the school library," Rosalie replied. "We thought it might've been included by mistake."

Alex looked at Beej, then at the book, then back at Dewey and Rosalie.

"Somebody used it, didn't they?" she said. "That's how he's here -- somebody summoned him."

"One of our students found it among the Halloween decorations," Rosalie told her. "She didn't know it was real."

Alex looked at Beej, her eyes blazing. "What did you do? "

"Nothing, I swear!" he replied, raising his hands defensively, his hair magenta. "I wouldn't hurt anybody! You know me!"

"He didn't do anything," Dewey said. "In fact, me and him are friends. And the kids love him."

Rosalie nodded. "He's a ... a decent person. For a demon."

"Thanks!" Beej said brightly. He elbowed Dewey in the ribs. "See? I told you she'd be cool with it!"

He turned to Alex. "We just wanna know how your spellbook ended up at the school, Alex. I mean, the kids coulda gotten into some bad shit, you know? Lucky for them, they got me instead."

The elderly woman shook her head. "I have no idea," she said. "It ... it must've been my daughter -- she packed up the last of my things when I came here. But why? She knows what that book is -- what it can do. It must've been an accident that it was included. I haven't used it in ages, not since she was a child -- she might not have remembered it." She held out her hand. "May I have it back, please?"

Dewey handed her the book.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Alex said. "I hope no one was hurt."

Rosalie smiled. "Everyone is okay," she replied. "Although some of us are still trying to come to terms with the idea of demons."

"And some of us are still trying to come to terms with the idea of breathers," Beej quipped.

Alex chuckled. "Don't let him out of your sight," she told Dewey. "If you give him an inch, he'll take a mile. Believe me."

"At least I'm better than that Darryl Van Horne guy!" Beej countered.

"Who's Darryl Van Horne?" Rosalie asked.

"Long story," Beej replied. "I'll tell it to you sometime." He leered at her. "If you're extra nice to me, that is."

"Beej," Dewey said, scowling.

"Relax -- I'm just joking! Jeez, can't a guy have a little fun around here?"

Alex chuckled. "Same old Beej," she said. "Don't ever change." She turned to the others. "Thank you for bringing this back to me -- and I'm sorry for any trouble it caused."

"Hey, that book is the reason me and Beej met," Dewey told her. "It wasn't, uh ... well, I mean ... he's kind of a handful, but --"

"Hey!" Beej protested. "Pot, kettle, black?"

"Yeah, okay ... I am, too, I guess, but ... he's my buddy so --"

"I think what Dewey's trying to say," Rosalie cut in, "is that it wasn't any trouble. We're just glad that we found the book's rightful owner."

"I'll be sure to keep it safe," Alex replied. "It won't cause any more problems -- I promise."

"Uh, is your daughter a ... a witch, too?" Dewey asked.

Alex shook her head. "No, Sarah didn't inherit the gift," she said. "But her daughter ... well, we'll have to see. Thank you again -- it was lovely to meet you both. And Beej --"

"Yes?" he asked, grinning in anticipation.

"Don't cause any trouble!"

"Me??? Ah, come on -- you know me! I never cause trouble -- it's you breathers who cause all the trouble! I'm just a poor demon tryna get by!"

Alex laughed. "Come here and give me a hug, you scamp!"

Beej winked at Dewey and Rosalie. "Told you she was hot for me!"

#beetlejuice #bjtm #bjtmtmtm #school of rock #school of rock broadway #sor #dewey finn #witches of eastwick #fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #book of shadows #bjfinn writing

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no-m4gic · 1 year

Note

Damn it Sitaya you do yandere Izzy now? That's it, I'm requesting. Yandere Izuru w/ prompt 26... preferably angst to fluff, but if you're tired you can just do fluff <33

p.s I think you know who I am devil emoji

i hate you so much for making me look for prompt 26 and 25.

also crane beloved, yes, i do yandere izuru. p.s c found this account before you how you like them apples /j

sorry if izuru is ooc, first time writing yandere izuru. THANKS A LOT, CRANE. /s

thank god i made an izuru header before you found me.

don't worry though, i had a lotta fun writing this, i put my writing ass into this.

warning ;; mm lime, mentions of like 'it' as a threat, sorta suggestive lines from izuru, french kissing and a shock collar and izuru feels lust for the first time ever. non-despair AU and izuru is hajime's twin.

prompt 26 ;; Control - “i’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you, got it?” prompt 25 ;; Collar - “don’t you dare take it off, I want everyone to know you’re mine.” prompt list ;; here!

~ mod sitaya

愛毒 // Yandere Izuru x GN S/O

it's only been a few days since you were captured... but it felt like years— decades— centuries— heck, eternities. there wasn't even a damn clock for you to stare at, keep yourself entertained with it. would he be mad for you paying too much attention to an inanimate object? yeah probably, honestly.

was escaping even an option? the thought of it wasn't even a possibility or plan, just a tease and a reminder that you can't even look out a window without your captor getting mad or upset... though he never ever expressed it, you only knew by the atmosphere dropping and his ruby eyes on you.

currently he was away... outside... doing god knows what. this would be the perfect chance to escape for any other yandere, but the windows, doors and yourself are uuh, chained up. however even if you weren't chained up on a bed, izuru would probably find you eventually, no matter where you run to. if you're in the same universe, you're his.

all you could really do was sit and wait for izuru to return. the least he could do was give you some sort of entertainment, jeez. selfish bastard. despite the windows being closed and locked tight, you felt as if the room's temperature started to drop. you curled yourself into a ball and tried not to think about anything, hoping you'd drift away from this reality for awhile... and even better, permanently.

it was only a few minutes before you concluded you couldn't fall asleep in this environment at this temperature in this situation. the only way you'd fall asleep was by taking some sleep pills or melatonin. maybe once izuru came back you could send him away again by asking him to buy some melatonin? that didn't sound bad at all.

you were awoken by a cold gust of wind as well as your hunger. you must've fallen asleep while plotting on how to get izuru to leave you alone for awhile more. you were still so deep in thought, you hadn't even noticed kamukura standing next to the bed with that same cold stare that he'd always given you when you weren't his hostage.

"what! stop staring at me- go look at the wall or something," you tried to sound intimidating, but ended up sounding like yourself, but more weak and pathetic. "s/o i can look at what's mine," he casually stated, setting down a box of takeout on the bed, "i got your favorite takeout, and since you have this sort of "performance anxiety", i'll leave you be to eat alone, i'll come back soon," and with that, he shut the door and locked it.

you mentally screamed at both yourself and at him out of rage. how dare you let him call you his? once you calmed down from your rage, you realized he actually unchained you. wow. you knew he didn't really want to tell you you were free, but you still felt extremely mad at him for not telling you.

due to your stubbornness, you refused to eat, but you also refused to push the food onto the ground... the food didn't deserve that death just because izuru bought and brought it to you. you were just looking at the food, imagining yourself watching akane eat a gourmet meal prepared by teruteru.

by now the food was probably freezing cold. it was also the time for izuru to return, back to torment you. "oh s/o, if you were claiming my predications were wrong and you weren't actually hungry, you could've told me instead of wasting a good meal," he sarcastically said, placing the box onto the bedside.

"what the fuck do you even want from me—? i don't even know you!" you spat, your anger and rage completely distracted you from your hunger and the freezing temperature biting your skin. "i only want you. i don't need or want anything you own." you cringed at that, but you didn't let that show, "

"s/o, i can do anything for you, sing you to sleep, feed you, bathe you, breed you till you can't walk or stand, give you all the affection you'll ever want and need, get you anything you want in the world, all just for you to submit to me," had his eyes gotten more passionate and brighter or was it just you slowly losing your sanity to them? you didn't know anymore. "i just want you to know as well, i’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you, got it?"

you were shocked at that last part, but chose to ignore it. big mistake. "but i don't want any of that—! i just want my freedom— move around and be with whoever i wish— not whate—" you were cut off by kamukura pulling you into a passionate kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth even before you could react, it exploring and dominating your mouth with his saliva.

you tried to push away, meanwhile trying to imagine you were kissing your crush or someone else instead of this psychopath. he broke the kiss rather quickly, a string of saliva still connecting you two. you shook your head violently and wiped it away.

"what the fuck was that?!" you gasped out, tears starting to form your eyes from how dirty and gross you felt. while distracted with that, you abruptly stopped to the feeling of something being slipped onto your neck. a shock collar. to make things worse, that collar has his name on it.

"now don’t you dare take it off, I want everyone to know you’re mine. and i think it suits you, s/o." he turned his back to you, taking one last glance before leaving you stranded in the darkness of your brand new room, only a tad bit of moonlight managing to stream in through the metal shutters of the window.

you curled into a ball and started to cry. everything had happened so quickly, you didn't even know izuru well, you only met him through hajime. how special were you to him? you were just a regular mortal doing what they were made to do.

i know how horny you are crane so i added some uuh french kissing, thanks for making me do this 🙄/s also you chose all of the prompts that are so aggressive and izuru-like i'm impressed. i'm considering on making a part 2 of this...

#danganronpa x reader #yandere danganronpa #yandere danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #yandere izuru x reader #yandere kamukura x reader #izuru kamukura x reader #izuru x reader #dr #dr x reader #yandere dr #crane i hate you #mm #yandere content #i had a lotta fun writing this though

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 years

Note

*evil laughter* say in Twilight when Bella saw the Vulturi painting in a moment of brilliant insight makes questions that result with Carlisle revealing his "sordid" past. How do things progress? I'll also ask Vinella to see if your paths differ

The Aro/Carlisle theory.

“I’m asking you and @therealvinelle to see if your answers differ” Right, anon, it’s been tried and the results are always very embarrassing for both me and @therealvinelle and just make it clear we should have run a joint blog then no one would know.

But anyways, your answer.

The Caveat

This would never happen.

Edward makes it very clear to his family in Midnight Sun to stay out of Bella Swan’s way. Edward wants to be the one to talk to her, to tell her anything of any remote importance, and he wants her to meet the others but he does not want them fucking this up. Edward is terrified that the next word out of anyone’s mouth is going to be the one sending her to the door. He purposefully sugarcoats and even... lies if you tilt your head a little... about nearly everything. Bloodlust, his own history, Carlisle’s history, Jasper’s history, the list goes on.

Edward does not want even Carlisle coming to Bella and telling her anything of what really happened in stark terms. He fully believes Bella would run out, come to her senses, and then it’d be all over.

Edward plans to always leave her, but he wants to do it on his terms.

Which is why we had Edward giving the tour of the house, showing Bella the painting, and Carlisle never really talks about it with her.

And for Carlisle to then let slip something he never has in front of Edward?

But Alright, Bella’s Got a Theory

So, Bella’s standing there, looking at this painting while Edward’s yammering. The painting looks incredibly well done, it should be in a museum, and Edward name drops a dude who she thinks she’s heard of before. Edward reveals that Carlisle spent “just a few decades” with these guys (Bella doing the math that, technically, Carlisle has spent “just a few decades” with the Cullen family), that he apparently had high respect for them and their culture, and that they were sort of the royal family with Carlisle hanging around. And Carlisle got to take home what is clearly a master work by a very famous painter.

Bella at first notes that, “Wow, these dudes sound super generous.” She asks if every guest of the Volturi takes home a Rembrandt or Da Vinci or what have you with themselves painted in it. This looks like it took months to do.

Edward stops, looks at her, and is now very uncomfortable. He doesn’t know, he’s never asked. Carlisle always did say they were generous.

Bella agrees but then points out that this isn’t a painting you just give to a friend. This isn’t some caricature artist on the street corner. They would have had to pose multiple times for this guy, dozens of sketches, and then probably weeks or months spent composing the scene.

Edward tells her that this is what the Volturi do, they’re patrons of the arts.

Yes, Bella says, but being a patron just means you can get whoever to do it for you, not that it’s suddenly easy or cheap. This would have cost money and looks like a lot of effort went into it.

They must have liked Carlisle a whole lot.

Edward agrees. Yes. Everyone likes Carlisle.

Bella obliviously keeps going and notes that it’s kind of weird how it’s not just a portrait of Carlisle. It’s Carlisle with the royal family, as if he belongs with them. He’s sort of in the back, but he’s clearly a part of their company, and even wearing their garments. This isn’t meaningless, if a painter did this, then they absolutely had a reason to.

Is Edward sure these guys aren’t Carlisle’s cousins or something.

Edward’s quite sure, and he’s sure it’s a mistake.

“It’s not a mistake,” Bella points out, painters spend a lot of time composing these things and going over all the little details. This was not an accident that Carlisle’s standing there and is dressed like that.

Edward’s sure he has no idea what she’s talking about. They may have... liked Carlisle more than some of their guests, but he was just a guest.

“Who stayed for decades,” Bella pointed out.

“Maybe one or two, not too many,” Edward hedges.

“Decades is a long time,” Bella reminds him, “From what you’ve said, you guys have only all been together for a few decades.”

Edward really doesn’t like that.

Bella then points out that, from what Edward said, they were perfectly fine with Carlisle staying longer and that it was Carlisle who decided to leave. Bella’s sure, from what Edward’s saying, that’s not the norm and probably not every ‘guest’ leaves with a painting. Of themselves in the royal family.

Bella eventually leaves the house and Edward’s disturbed. A lot of this he either hadn’t thought about or willfully had ignored.

He goes to see Carlisle and asks just how close Carlisle was to the Volturi. Carlisle gets a little hesitant but notes that, obviously it was all a long time ago and he hasn’t been in contact in ages, but he was really closest with Aro and not so much the other two.

Edward asks if he knew of any other guests during his time there.

Carlisle didn’t.

He asks if any one else got a painting. Carlisle hedges and says he doesn’t know, no other guests at the time, remember. He doesn’t doubt guests all leave with something, Aro’s very generous like that.

Edward again questions just how these people could be friends with each other, yes he knows Carlisle has other blood drinking friends, but--

Some point during this questioning, Carlisle slips, just a little. And then all hell breaks loose.

All Hell Breaks Loose

Bella is suddenly told she will not be coming back over to the Cullen house or going to the baseball game or doing whatever it was Edward previously had in mind. Bella’s devestated, she thinks she offended the family or fucked up (probably Rosalie, she thinks to herself, as Rosalie has not been hiding her feelings).

Edward tells her it wasn’t anything she did, she was wonderful, perfect. No, it’s a family issue, something internal, Bella doesn’t need to be bothered with it.

Bella asks if everyone’s okay.

Everyone’s fine, there’s just... a few things they have to discuss.

Edward calls an intervention.

Now, unlike @therealvinelle‘s Bleach on the Brain, the family has no history with the Volturi yet or negative feelings. Edward, in fact, views them as more cultured and noble than most of their kind and probably a step below the Cullens and the Denali in terms of sophistication.

Edward also doesn’t know about Chelsea or Corin yet.

So, he calls this ridiculous meeting demanding Carlisle TELL THEM ALL THE TRUTH! Carlisle really doesn’t want to do this, especially not to Esme who does not deserve to be told like this, but fesses up that, centuries ago, he had a long running affair with Aro di Volterra... and his wife Sulpicia.

Of course, it’s long over, Carlisle hasn’t seen them in centuries, since he left in fact, and is now married.

No one’s sure how to take this.

Or how to view Carlisle.

Edward is feeling horrifically betrayed by this, wanting to know who else (no one else, Edward), Rosalie just has no idea what to say, Emmett doesn’t either as he didn’t peg Carlisle as swinging that way, and Jasper wishes he could just leave the table.

Edward does not get the sympathetic audience he thought he would. Everyone, in fact, kind of wants to leave and pretend this whole discussion never happened. Glad to know you had a great time in Italy, Carlisle, let’s never discuss it ever again.

Edward ends up having to go to Bella for sympathy in the middle of the night. Sobbing to her that his father had this horrible affair with Aro di Volterra and lied to Edward about it from the very beginning.

Bella points out that it’d be kind of awkward for Carlisle to tell Edward all about his sexual exploits. Bella doesn’t want to know what Renee and Charlie ever get up to. Ever.

Edward’s horrified that Bella, while sympathetic and full of love, just isn’t getting it.

The baseball game never happens as Edward bails, now spending all of his time with Bella to punish his family. They don’t notice the difference as he was already spending all his time with Bella when he wasn’t punishing the family. They also have no idea what they’re being punished for as, aside from a few horrible jokes by Emmett, they’ve all put it behind them.

Edward chooses, when Bella dies and he must leave this world and join her, to not go to Volterra because he won’t ever give Aro that satisfaction. Never. He will go somewhere else.

Edward still ends up dumping Bella in New Moon, who likely does not get involved with werewolves as Victoria didn’t stick around and most of the pack save Sam didn’t phase, and should Bella still jump off a cliff Edward then goes to antagonize the newborn armies in Mexico.

He’s very quickly killed.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #edward cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion

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momentomori24 · 8 months

Text

Ok, ZERO ESCAPE 999. This game was a weird one for me. Definitely great, do not get me wrong--- I LOVE this game to pieces and after finishing this post I will finally start VLR during the weekend (hopefully), and mull over the characterization because what the hell, everyone is absolutely hilarious (Junpei, Snake, Seven and Santa specifically I'm looking at you)--- but it certainly left me with a bunch of questions to which I have no answers. Which makes sense considering the next game will most probably pick up where 999 left off so I won't touch on that too much, but everything really felt like a crazy, confusing, convoluted fever dream. In a good way. But still, very cryptic.

Speaking about fever dreams, June's situation is the most unique circumstance for a character I think I've ever seen. If I have everything correct (and correct me if I'm wrong), she originally died in the present timeline in the incinerator room long ago and somehow the Akane we meet in the Nonary Game exists simultaneously dead and alive at the same time in the aftermath of that event--- so basically Schrödinger's cat. The Nonary Game was set up to make Junpei save the Akane through telekinesis to create either a separate timeline or more likely influence the present one so that she can exist normally. That's why she's doomed to disappear in every ending; Junpei doesn't get to recreate that exact scenario in the incinerator room, so past Akane never reaches him and dies the way she was supposed to, meaning June ceases to exist as a consequence. And the burning fevers she would randomly get are her body reliving the memories being burned in the incinerator room 9 years ago. Did I get that all right? If so, then wow, that's not a twist I saw coming at all. Props to the creator of the game, but also how dare you doom my girl like this.

My biggest question how tho. I know that's not the best question to ask in a game where we are literally on the replica of the titanic, the exact same place where half of the cast along with other kids where brought to almost a decade ago because they were targeted by a supposed medical company and leader of said company is also part of our gang, forced into solving locked rooms while death hangs over their heads until 9 hours are over but our protagonist can turn back time without even knowing it every time things go bad, but still. If it's revealed later on then please don't tell me. If not, go ahead.

This is my second attempt to type this because my first drafts somehow didn't save and I'm too lazy to re-do everything so I'll bullet point:

•What happened to Santa in the true ending? Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think he was present during our car ride. Ace was there, though, despite being taken hostage by him and led away.

•So June is alive, right? Since we rewrote the timeline and helped Akane survive, what happened to her? She vanished on us during our confrontation with Santa, so where did she end up when everything was over?

•Who the hell killed everyone in the other endings? We know Clover goes crazy in one and Ace kills her in another, but what about the rest? We know it's not one of us because every single person we have gets slaughtered in the Sub endings with Junpei last. I did make post about it and I'll stick to what I said, but I guess I'll wait and see if the next game will answer.

•Who is Zero. That's it. I was thinking it was not Santa, to gradually being persuaded into thinking it could be him due to the evidence pointing into direction only for it to have really not him. He is actually more involved than most, but he's not the guy we're looking for (good). Give me answers, game.

Well, rant over for now. I'll probably slightly touch on VLR because I have an assessment to revise for, but I'm excited! I've heard a little about the gameplay and I'm really curious to see how it will pay out.

#momento rambles #zero escape #no proof read I die like my sleeping schedule

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abstract-talk · 17 days

Note

I have a pretty farfetched/bizarre theory that may seem a little cuckoo but it also seems to coincide timing wise.

Jamie Chung and Bryan Greenberg and their involvement in this saga. I know that CE and Bryan worked together way back when and stayed friends for a long time. Bryan has been married to Jamie for almost a decade, so obviously by association CE knows her too. But I am unsure how much actual interaction these people have had because they don't live in the same area and they do seem to run in separate circles.

But Jamie and Bryan (as a team unit) started popping up in the fandom radar around 2021. The fans already knew he was long time friends with Bryan but didn't realize he also knew Jamie more than just by association. He/Jamie started following each other on SM/Twitter (I wanna say either 2020-2021) and this was because at the time, people were stalking all of his SM interactions and follows, and then after that, when things started getting a little better covid wise, people returned to filming. Jamie and Bryan stayed at CE's house for a bit while he was away filming TGM (I believe) and they kept posting from his house on their IG. This annoyed fans but it has me wondering if it was setting the foundation for something bigger.

Jamie and Bryan were all up in his space posting, and people were like "oh wow they're that good of friends? Or does he just let all his friends crash like this?" Time goes on and Jamie and Bryan are openly interacting with him more on IG - especially during the TGM and Lightyear promo era. Jamie and Bryan showed up to his premiere too and I now think there's a bit more to it. I think this was setting the tone for the part they seem to be planning in this very elaborate show.

There's another actress, Nichelle, whose friends with Jamie, also started interacting more with him. These three all interacted with AB and participated in alot of the IG shenanigans. Again, it appears they all have history and may have been in his circles much longer than the SM interactions would suggest, but to me it's interesting their involvement in this particular situation with AB, the wedding, etc.

Again, I could be completely off base because I haven't been sitting around following their friendship or any of these friendships/relationships in general but one thing people noticed was in 2020-2021 when Jamie and him started following each other, people were like, "how come they didn't follow each other earlier if she's been married to Bryan for years? Are they actually friends? How close is he actually even to Bryan?" Again, SM doesn't determine closeness at all, but I do think SM is very useful for selling narratives and making it look organic because the point of SM is to engage and interact.

I think people further questioned their involvement because they attended a famous Halloween party CE's friends host every year. Since Jamie/Bryan are in NYC/LA more HW friends, it was kind of weird they were suddenly invited to this local family friend party and the fact that Jamie posted about getting an invite on her IG (LOL) this past year, right after the infamous secret wedding, has me ? the whole thing.

Again, all of this is just random speculation that nobody else probably notices or cares. I just think there has been a lot of very interesting timeline observations the more time unfolds. I find that to be very true - sometimes you can't see what's going on or even notice it until after the fact, when you're reflecting. Hindsight is definitely 20/20.

Really enjoy your blog and very interesting takes!

I don't follow those two but I'll tell you that I wouldn't be posting a friend's invite on my very public IG. There's a friends only filter for a reason.

#anonymous talks

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isqueedmyself · 1 year

Text

The Bracket

Kate Stewart did not admit to watching television, at least not at work. At UNIT Headquarters, she was all business: alien threats and ancient undersea terrors and psychotic extraterrestrials in Number 10. One had to concentrate on the real things, not television.

Particularly not television featuring women who loved other women, beautiful women Kate's age who could do a sultry look that would have every pair of lesbian or bisexual knees in Unit HQ going totally wobbly.

Of course, that was probably just Kate's knees, but that was enough.

She was surfing the web on her phone, not wanting the browser history of her government computer to reflect her extracurricular explorations.

And what explorations! There was a bracket, a tournament-style voting arrangement for people to select their choice for the sexiest sapphic.

There were more than fifty of them, she saw as she scrolled through the options, and they were all gorgeous.

Well, not that one so much. Not the cartoon duck. Feathers on skin… Kate closed her eyes briefly, then snapped them back open.

No. Just no. Kate kept scrolling, kept enjoying one offering after another.

But… but that woman from the American teen show? The one Kate sometimes caught herself looking at in inappropriate ways when she watched certain episodes alone?

That woman was losing.

Losing two to one, to somebody's mother from a newspaper show from DECADES ago!

Honestly!

Kate shared the poll to several of her clandestine social media accounts, closed her phone and went back to work.

OOO

Osgood did not understand why her boss persisted in using her phone to surf the Internet at UNIT headquarters. It certainly bought her no privacy; UNIT monitored every communication in and out of the building, even the sandwich deliveries.

This, though, might prove embarrassing if it got out. Apparently the boss was a fangirl. A lesbian fangirl.

Osgood knew Kate had been married, and had met her ex-wife Valentina. She had seen her boss get into a lustful gaze with Missy from all the way across the room that had had the Doctor twisting in place until Osgood thought he might screw himself into the floor. Osgood had no illusions about Kate's sexuality, but she hadn't thought poultry would be on the menu. At least, not with the feathers still on.

But Kate was a fan of that long-legged redhead with the sultry voice and the tendancy to alternate the genders of the people she dated.

Maybe Kate liked freckles. Her blorbo certainly had a delightful array of them scattered across her breastbone. Osgood licked her lips, just a bit. Very nice.

But she was losing. She was losing the poll. She was going to be eliminated in the first round.

Well, not if Osgood could help it. She opened her secure browser and started her security penetration protocol.

OOO

"Miss Osgood?" Kate called. "Could you step in her for a moment? And close the door."

Uh-oh. Osgood followed Kate into her office. The images from the bracket were openly displayed on Kate's monitor.

"Network security has informed me that someone has been using UNIT bandwidth for unauthorized purposes, to wit, hacking a fan sight."

"Wow," said Osgood. "Who would do a thing like that?"

"No idea," said Kate. "I'd like you to look into it, though, and make very sure it doesn't happen again."

"Perhaps a certain degree of professional education might help," said Osgood. "Certain employees might not be aware that communications by any device over UNIT's network are open to inspection--tablets, phones, FitBits, everything."

"FitBits?" said Kate.

Osgood nodded sagely. "Some of the guys from IT nag me if my step count gets too low. This, though…."

"This is illicit," said Kate, "and it can't happen again."

"I'll take care of it, ma'am," Osgood assured her. On screen, the freckly redhead was now firmly in the lead in the first round. She would continue to pick up a substantial number of votes until the poll closed, unless someone shut down the worm Osgood had planted.

"She's very pretty," Osgood told her boss, who was looking at the screen.

"Yes, she is," said Kate. They both looked at the screen for a moment.

And then, somehow, Kate was looking into Osgood's eyes, and Osgood was sinking into those dark amber pools and feeling herself swept away, and away, and away.

A few moments later, Osgood came out of Kate's office and pulled the door closed. She held her head high and strode across the outer office, not meeting the eyes of anyone who might have anything to say about the furious blush burning across her cheekbones.

#fanfiction #Doctor Who #Kate Stewart #Jemma Redgrave #Petronella Osgood #Ingrid Oliver

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cuntwrap--supreme · 20 days

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Something a little fucked about going to dinner with people who have told your mom that you're "not ok" and shit since you were 8 and them entirely ignoring you, instead leaning over to whisper to your brother that they needed to talk later (about me) when I'm quite literally directly across from him. He texted me saying his aunt wanted to discuss me later.

So they're all talking further down the table and at some point I interject and say, "Yeah, ha ha, I heard you had some questions about me. Where better to get that information than the horse's mouth?" And this woman - who pretends to be Cherokee to, like, get sympathy and Liz Warren'd her way into school saying she was Cherokee when she knew she wasn't, got whole scholarships meant for minorities because of it - looks to my mother and goes, "Girl, I think you need to control your thing down there." So I stood up and said I'd rather walk 14 miles home in the rain than be in the presence of such vacant, soulless ghouls for a moment longer, told this woman she can pay for my meal with her husband's money, and walked. My dad, one of my sisters, and her boyfriend came after me and said that was fucked and they weren't gonna sit there after that. My dad said he was going to walk with me if no one handed over their keys because it was either that or he was going to jail for murdering this woman. Said he looked at my mom and asked what her response to that was, and all she said was that I'm clearly mentally unwell. As if 1) that's not directly her fault and 2) that's grounds to let someone call me a thing and talk shit about me for decades.

Pretty sure your parents are supposed to have your back? So he said after that was her response he told her good luck with her bills, he's done supporting her 20 years after they got divorced. I've been telling him this is how she treats me since I was a child, but he's never seen it in action until tonight. Like, I'd be 10 or so and doing 10 year old shit and she'd make sure I knew it was a sign of being depraved to pretend you're a wizard for fun or some shit and that I was probably going to end up a whore for work because I have no value; meanwhile, she's smoking crack with her boyfriend all the fucking time, exposing me to that and domestic violence, forcing me to be an adult and protect my siblings from her and her boyfriend's drug use from 8 years old onward, and allowing her boyfriend to psychologically torture me because well I'm weird so i deserve it, etc! Wow! It's almost as if isolating people in their formative years and instead forcing them to deal with constant stresses such as "will my mom die the next time she's thrown bodily across the room?" and "what happens if DCS doesn't believe my mom's lies next time? Will I be placed in a home full of other troubled kids, but some of them will rape me?" and "I've been told no adults will believe me when I mentioned my home life and surprise! they don't!" isn't good for someone.

I'm irreparable. Yeah. Sure. You got me there. But I'll be fucking damned if I'm going to sit idly by as these people talk shit about me when I'm 5ft away. Last time they saw me they talked to my mother about how I need to be institutionalized for - get this - not being feminine. Apparently that's a mental disorder now! Sorry, afab people! You have to be traditionally feminine or you're mentally fucked! I don't make the rules! Some people who got rich by marrying scam artists do! Or they told my youngest sister to stop talking to me because I'll only drag her down with me. Whatever that means. As if I didn't fucking raise that child more than either of her parents ever did. As if I didn't protect her from her father when he'd get high and want something to strangle while tweaking out and chose infant her. I should have punched this vapid excuse for a human square in the nose.

I'm so sick of how these people have treated me forever and how no one has ever had the balls to stand up to them because they all have money and they want to mooch off of that. They've hated me from Day One because I don't suck up to them. As far back as I can remember, they've told me I should dye my hair blonde, do makeup, wear high heels and slutty clothes so I can find a "good man" who will take care of me, then call me a weird dyke when I say none of that sounds like a way to find a man I'd get along with.

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 10 months

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i wanna add more will wood's songs for julian because ig this is his kin artist now (i am SO NORMAL abt these songs and how it ties to julian's character)

cw for alcoholism, death, suicide

there will be mentions of his reversed ending too

Um, it's Kind of a Lot

"Oh, I love you so much it scares me half to death. the other half, I guess I'm giving to you"

"And I'm afraid you'll notice all my flaws. I'm afraid you already have, obviously"

"And I'm afraid I'll come on too strong, hold you too tight, and scare you too"

the last one is so julian i cant even

"But I never been afraid to wear my heart on my sleeve"

"At least to prove I'm weak, and if you cut me, I'll bleed"

i mean come on, look at that, its so perfectly julian i dont even have to explain

"I'll twist my words, a clever turn of phrase"

"Sorry, darling, please excuse my constant need to self-aggrandize. Coddling my narcissism"

we do not talk enough abt how julian also has that kind of like bravado but just not as bad as lucio's lmaoo

"So here's one last lyric to sum up these thoughts I struggled to come up with"

"To make me sound deep and smart, and then I promise I'll shut up"

"Wait, let me think, hold on, I got this"

"Anything but 'I'm in love with you'"

the third lyric is just the cherry on top, the unsure of it all and just kinda fumbling over your own words, its so julian

2012

"I was an existential criminal, so innocently cynical"

hes a fugitive!!

"Originally meant to live a God-damned miracle"

"Might've been metaphysical, but I think it was medical"

i think this could refer how he was literally dying from the plague and met the hanged man, so he was very close to dying or i think he did die and he came back with his mark (? idk tbh). well hes not dead now so it was a miracle but yk, julian is a skeptic so the line "but i think it was medical" fits him sooo much. hes a doctor! i'll take any medical related words and refs and align it with julian, ty.

"Testing my hypothesis"

"Never finding a theory"

i take back my last sentence. i'll take any science related words and refs and align it with julian, ty

"Did you lose yourself? It's always in the last place that you'd check"

julian talking to mc

"I might find myself by retracing my steps..."

"But I don't remember how I forgot myself"

"I don't remember, I don't remember 2012"

"Wow, the whole year's a blur!"

yea just change that to three years

"I think I bought into the comedy and brought a lot of oddity"

"An odyssey I thought to be consider a commodity"

"And not until anomaly abolished my monotony"

"Did I applaud autonomy and modify a lot of me"

i cant even break this one down tbh but the julian vibe is definitely there

"I heard the world would turn to hell"

"Compared to that, I'm doing well"

birblian cameo??!?! no but srsly i could see birblian going insane and gaslighting himself

The First Step

this is just an alcoholic song tbh...

"You could say I'm plastered, 'cause I hit the wall"

this is just a funny line tbh, not that deep, just julian hitting the wall like a cartoon

"I’d try to see the glass as half full"

"But I’d probably just a-drink that too!"

thats the alcoholic line. yk julian's a pessimistic, trying to see the glass half full instead of half empty but he'd probably drink that too

"Well I bet that a bottle of brandy so bitter’d be better than bitin’ the bullet and betterin’ myself"

"Sorry if I slur!"

if you listen to the song, will wood was actually slurring that first line. i have a hc that julian has two opposite talking mannerism. first one that he stutters (that part is canon) a lot and repeats his word. you get that or he slurs and talks so fast, theres no in between

"I’d try to see the glass as half full"

"Even when I'm empty, half-full"

"I’d try to see the glass as half full"

"But I’d probably just- AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

this is just a bonus. i just want to include it

Half-Decade Hangover

this song RUINED me actually so heres some angst (i avoid this song even tho i love it sm its such a banger but i cry everytime i listen to it. i really recommend listening to the song just so u can hear just the raw emotions. i also recommend going to the genius lyric page bc will wood himself actually annotate some of the lyrics im im im sorry im fanboying rn)

"Wonder how I didn’t die"

"This is not my life, I’m no survivor, I only happened to survive"

ooooof... again, with the dying theme, my god

"I was drunk when I made my bed"

"Now with a half-decade hangover I lay down in it"

"What have I done? Don't know what I've said"

ooooww yikes, that last line is kinda like a double whammy. julian not remembering his last 3 years bc of that amnesia OR in the reversed ending, "what have i done" but in a regretful way its so sad too bc after he made that deal with the devil all he did was drink himself to - well not death but yk.

"Give back my life, and if not"

"Take it, 'cause lately I been thinking maybe I could take it or leave it"

"If I can’t at least break even, then I’m leaving when"

"I been feelin' this awful since I hit bottom and"

"Said, 'Hand me my shovel, I’m going in!'"

that two first line is julian confronting to the devil. "take it (my life)" that line hits me like a train bc it has been hinted that julian have quite the suicidal tendencies and that was BEFORE shit went down. imagine how worse it got after the whole deal with the devil and him being cursed. he fought the devil so many times... it makes me wonder if he also did it, hoping he would die in the process. also the last line is a reference to one of will wood's song "Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!" which a few ppl also recommend it for julian.

"Like it’s a good thing you said, 'You’ve got your whole life ahead'"

"Oh great, another half a century to live to regret"

"I’d rather be anybody else instead"

pretty forward with this one, this is depressing im sorry

"Please believe me when I say that I’ve poured my whole past down the drain"

thats pretty literally. he exchanged his memories of those three years for the healing mark

"Say that a second chance is a chance I can take"

"But I can’t make amends for things I can't remember"

"I can only say I'm sorry and occasionally pray"

he got a second chance to live, he no longer has the plague. also that second line, i mean julian traded the memories he didnt want so mustve thought he did something bad but now he cant really make amends bc he doesn't remember (not yet at least)

okay thats all, im sorry this was such a rollercoaster

@dandydanthelion :O the way you just broke down all those lyrics and fit them into his character, that was incredible and made so much sense!

It's not even a question at this point if they belong on the playlist (just added them) XD

Thank you for sending these friend! I always love to see your name pop up in my inbox ^.^

#ask arcana brainrot #arcana brainrot playlist #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #julian devorak #julian the arcana #the arcana game

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theoriginalladya · 11 months

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Hello! Your Caleb Shepard has inspired me to make the last push to get in touch with my Irish heritage, but I don’t know where to start. I definitely want to learn Gaelic.

Hello! Oh, what a lovely compliment and wow, how exciting!!!! Thank you!! I will admit, Caleb has become very dear to my heart and I have used him to learn a lot of things Irish that I never would have otherwise!

I'll be honest up front: I do not know Gaelic myself. That's one of those things on my 'to do' list that I probably should bump up to the top. Most of what I use in my stories come from a lot of searching around the internet. I have some experience learning a foreign language (French) as well as researching documents in others (the joys of being a history major lol) so I understand enough about phrasing and structure once I've found a few examples and can get a feel for it, but I also tend to do an over abundance of research to make sure I get a word or phrase as accurate as possible. I also follow some Irish blogs that help, too.

As for actually learning of the language, I have a couple of friends who have suggested I look into starting with Babbel. (I honestly know nothing about Babbel, but I have seen advertisements for it as well) I'm sure there must be other options out there, but I haven't started checking into them yet.

As for the other aspects of his Irish background - history, folktales, places, etc. - that is something that comes far more naturally to me! I was a history major in college ages ago and eventually ended up getting my MA in Medieval History. One benefit to that was learning how to research and how to discern reliable sources. It's a skill that has come in handy over the years (and as a result, when the research bug hits, I tend to go deeeeeeep into a subject just to satisfy my curiosity! lol).

Now, as for deciding where to make Caleb come from, I won't say I threw a dart at the map to choose (I'm not nearly so good at darts as he is!), but my parents visited Ireland about a decade ago and shared a bunch of photos and stories of their adventure. That fed into my love of geography, all things Celtic and history, and so I sat down at the computer, did a quick, general Google search on Irish history to get me started, and ended up chasing after bits and pieces that caught my interest. My Master's thesis was on the history of an abbey in England (of which I hope to one day publish an original fic with that as a large part of it's story) and in doing my research for that, I occasionally came across references to events in history that tied back to Ireland that piqued my interest as well. It's a research adventure that is still ongoing today - some thirty years after my MA Thesis and three and a half years after creating Caleb, but there's still more to learn about!

But like I said, I honestly cannot say what made me decide to plant Caleb in Shannon. He has the character background of an Earthborn Shepard, so I knew he'd be from a city. The foundation of his character, though, stems from a different game where I play Brigit, his mother, who is most definitely from rural Ireland. He was a natural fit for Mass Effect, and once I plonked him into Shannon, I started to explore the surrounding areas on maps, in folklore, in history, etc. It all kind of snowballed from there. I've scrounged up some 2nd hand travel guides for Ireland at used bookstores, read numerous books of Irish folktales I've collected over the years, and continue to search the Web for new and interesting tidbits to feed my fancy. My latest fixation has been on discovering more of the fae/fairy stories and folklore so I can adapt it to a Mass Effect/Fairy AU idea I have. Now to be fair, some of my fae knowledge is influenced by an RPG game I play as well as the information I've gathered, so please don't take it as 100% accurate, especially once I've added in the Mass Effect side of things!

So, all of my rambling aside - sorry about that, get me going on my characters and you might have to tell me to stop! lol - I would suggest a Google search to get you started or, alternatively, to help you narrow things down a bit to a starting point. Do you have a place you are really interested in? A story or bit of folklore? An ancestor from over there you'd like to learn more about? (trust me, tracing genealogy is just as dangerous for me - still happens to me whenever I pull mine out to update!) Could be something as simple as wondering about the history of Guinness beer or what Irish wool/yarn is native to the country or a W.B. Yeats poem you want to track down the meaning behind.

Come to think of it, a friend did pass along some W.B. Yeats back when I created Caleb. And my mom did give me some 'real Irish wool' yarn when she came back from that trip that I really need to dig out and make something with. Hmm....

(and feel free to drop other asks if you have specific questions! I'm sorry I've rambled on so long, but what a delight to find your comments in my inbox! thank you so much!!!)

#ladya replies #ladya's OCs #Caleb Shepard #Irish Shepard #ladya is a perpetual student and always learning new things about whatever catches her interest #Caleb has been an excellent vehicle for that on the Irish side of things!

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sashannarcy · 2 years

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um ummm sasha and anne and marcy visiting each other at college [post The Breakup] and theyre like kinda awkward but trying to push through it while ALSO not wanting marcy to realize that they are awkward bc marcy was looking forward to them finally meeting up again soo much and hteyre just like. [accidentally brushes hands] [freeze] [blushes] [so many blushes] [awkward staring] [starts talking then trails off halfway through] [oh they probably think im being so weird] [im being so weird] [this is horrible] [oh god i still love [anne/sasha] dont i] [oh god]

wow that's so cool. watch this

"did I tell you guys I'm planning a webcomic?"

"what?" Anne gasps. "you're serious? isn't that a lot of work?"

"that's pretty cool, Mars," Sasha says, grinning and leaning back in his chair. "how far along are you with it?"

Marcy giggles. "sure is a lot of work! it's kinda killing me, actually," they admit, fiddling with the ends of their hair. "and I'm... probably about halfway through outlining it? maybe? the plot is dense."

Sasha hums and sips at his drink. "props to you, though. wanna tell us what it's about?"

instantly, Marcy's face lights up. "would I? oh my god, I don't even know where to start... okay, so it's like, a mix of the Creatures and Caverns campaign- which is going great, by the way, our next session is gonna be huge- and what happened to us in Amphibia, which I figured was too crazy not to write about..."

this is nice, Sasha thinks to themself as Marcy continues. the three of them are sitting at the Starbucks on Anne's college campus amidst the hustling of busy students. Anne had invited them both to catch up as soon as she'd learned Marcy would be in Los Angeles for the week. finals season was soon, but it wasn't often that Marcy managed to visit, so neither Anne nor Sasha minded taking the time out of their schedules.

Sasha had been more nervous about seeing Anne than any sort of final exam, anyway. they'd all graduated high school two years ago, but sophomore year felt like it had happened just yesterday. and with it...

"so, hold on," Anne interrupts. "you're having two of the main characters get together, just to break them up again? what's the point?"

Marcy's brows furrow together, and they lean forward over the table, tenting their hands. "it's about the angst, Anne. the devotion! they're gonna get back together later on- but not without years of pining. trust me, people eat this shit up. myself included."

Sasha's throat bobs. Anne squints. "alright," she concedes. "I mean- well, never mind."

Marcy tilts their head. "what is it? bad trope?"

Anne shakes her head, smiling. "no, not at all. um-"

Sasha doesn't realize his eyes are on Anne's face until it's too late. Anne's gaze flits over to him- they make eye contact for all of a microsecond. it feels more like a decade. warm brown meets mismatched mahogany and cyan, and everything buried beneath days and weeks and months and lifetimes of misunderstandings and rushed emotions surfaces in a heartbeat. he's sixteen all over again; he's hoping all over again, because he’ll never be able to let Anne go, not fully. Sasha's insides are molten- what's a glance like this supposed to mean while their friend is talking about true love and yearning?

externally, the situation is a little more embarrassing: her cheeks flush a faint pink, and a squeak escapes her that's thankfully muffled by the sounds of the people around them. and then Anne looks back at Marcy, making Sasha's chest feel like it's been suddenly decompressed.

"well, how are you gonna fit years of time into it?" Anne saves herself. she reaches a hand up to scratch the back of her neck. nervous tell, Sasha's mind provides. looks like you're not so sly after all. "won't it be really long?"

Marcy blinks. "no, I'll just do a time-skip. with scattered in flashbacks, of course."

"right. okay, carry on," Anne replies, waving a hand.

Sasha exhales slowly. it'd been awkward between her and Anne all day, full of fleeting glances and accidental brushing of hands in between their regular back-and-forth. they'd been trying to keep it together for Marcy's sake- luckily, Marcy seemed oblivious to the tension between them.

Marcy pauses. "I could carry on," they muse. "but- Anne, that's not what you were gonna say originally, was it?"

spoke too soon.

Anne's face pales minutely. "er- I dunno what you mean."

"hm. well, that's okay," Marcy says. there's a wicked glint in their eye. "by the way, you do know some parts of this are based off of true events? I did mention that, yeah?"

"yes, you did," Sasha finally chips in, voice all but strangled.

Marcy grins. "I just think it'd be funny- I mean, let me rephrase-"

"Marcy," Anne warns, and now her face is red.

"oh, come on, guys," Marcy protests, finally breaking. "don't act like I haven't noticed... whatever is going on between you two!" they sigh dramatically. "I mean, for the love of- are you guys seeing anyone? each other, maybe?"

Sasha chokes on his drink. Anne drops her head into her hands with an audible thud.

"no," Anne mumbles, muffled. Sasha is hacking up a lung; Anne removes one of her hands from her face to thump Sasha's back a few times.

"thanks," Sasha splutters. "wow. uh-" they cough again. "no, we're not- no."

Marcy rolls their eyes. "you should." they stand up abruptly, and Sasha's heart kicks into overtime. "alright, here, I'm going to the bathroom. figure it out before I'm back."

"wh- Marcy!"

"for the trope, you two!" they shout back at the table, already halfway across the room. "for the trope!"

"good lord," Sasha groans, sliding down in his chair.

"so much for a normal catching up," Anne grumbles.

"cheers." Sasha takes a long sip of her drink, staring hard at the table's surface.

Anne exhales. "no, I shouldn't say that. it's been fun. it's just- the-" Sasha looks up to see Anne gesturing between the two of them. "whatever."

"hey," Sasha quips in mock offense. "we can be normal."

Anne snorts. "yeah, sure."

there's silence for a few long moments.

"you think they're spying on us?" Sasha finally whispers.

"probably," Anne snickers. her voice is a little shaky, but it's bright; it's happy. she stirs her drink idly. "you know, we did promise them we'd listen to them more often."

"we did."

"...so."

Sasha meets Anne's gaze, gentle. "so."

"we should probably do that, right?" the question is shy.

Sasha huffs out a laugh under his breath. "depends." his hands are visibly trembling. "you have something you wanna get off your chest, Boonchuy?"

Anne smiles, eyes twinkling.

#blacked out sorry🥺#GOD supernova be more careful about what you SAY to me next time look what you did #yeah I'll throw this in the tags why not #marcy wu #sasha waybright #anne boonchuy #sashanne #amphibia #raedas #ask #da mutuals

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broomsick · 2 years

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How about... *looks around for a number* ... 10?

10. Which deity do you turn to most in times of trouble?

Content warning for panic & danger (mentioned, no detail)!

Wow, that's quite the difficult question. First of all, thank you so much for asking! I'll try not to make this too long. The thing is, I chose not to have a designated "patron", or "matron" up to now because I just could not bear to choose. Different deities bring me different kinds of help, which means I may call to a different God based on the situation I want help with. Still, the question asks me to go with the one I turn to most... For the time being, I'd have to say Thórr, even though it changes constantly. It used to be Loki, and it was Skaði for a while too, really depends on the period. Since I love all the Gods equally at all times, the focus of my worship tends to jump from one deity to the other. The reason I chose Thórr is that I've began to view him more and more as a protector, in the last few years. Of course, I always knew he was considered the protector of humankind in general, but I only recently began acknowledging him as my protector as well. After all, did I not wear the Mjöllnir around my neck for almost a decade, hoping that it would bring me protection? Also, (content warning here), I survived a life threatning situation unscathed, this summer. I obviously don’t know if Thórr played a part in my protection but I would like to believe he has. Right when I was beginning to panic, light rain started pouring and I swear I heard thunder rumble, even though the entire day had been sunny. I suddenly remembered my Mjöllnir necklace was around my neck and I clutched it, and it helped me to calm down. A tiny storm happened, thunder and all, and it only lasted 20 minutes or so. The rain just made me feel so much better at the time, I was grateful to whoever had sent it. (A funny enough fact is that on my way back home, my eyes were drawn to a shop sign that said something like "Thor's Lair" or wathever. I was pleasantly puzzled, as you can imagine!). I'd always honored Thórr in my practice but since then, I've paid even more attention to him. I think if I got into trouble right now, I would probably turn to to him for the strength he grants me, as well as the smile he always seems to want to put on my face. I hope that answered your question! Thanks again for asking, have great day!

#thor #asks #ask #personal #spirituality #norse gods #norse pantheon #norse paganism #deities #deity work #norse polytheism #paganism #polytheism #witchcraft

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umgeorge · 1 year

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If all f1 contracts were to end tomorrow and you could build a new grid where money wasn’t an object and there are no constraints on which drivers could go to each team (alpha tauri isn’t junior Red Bull, teams with Ferrari engines don’t need a Ferrari driver etc), what would your grid look like?

oh! hmm, that's a loaded one to think about, i suppose, but thank you for asking! needless to say, lewis and george would stay at merc. i would get rid of rbr and both of their drivers entirely, to be replaced by audi (as opposed to them taking over alfa), with mick and... hm, i guess i'll say bottas. i'm not vb's biggest fan, but i think he'd be a great teammate to mick who could teach him a lot. i would bring seb out of retirement to reap the rewards of his hard work at aston (very loud sobbing) and pair him with piastri. i think oscar deserves that mentorship and, while it's tempting to have smick as teammates, i wouldn't want competition to ruin their friendship y'know? plus i can just picture a slightly bemused seb taking a shine to the walking Mood that is oscar "the piastri" piastri as his teammate. i would promote ayumu iwasa and pair him with yuki at andretti motorsports, in place of alpha tauri. ayumu has extraordinary natural ability but not much experience in the feeder series yet, so while he'd need a teacher, maybe not someone with like a decade of experience in a top car who just can't relate to the stage he's at in his career right now anymore. but yuki could still teach him so much! charles can stay at ferrari, but paired with alonso. it pains me to leave fernando on the grid, but charles needs further mentoring, including on keeping his chin up when the rug is repeatedly ripped out from under him. and, frankly, alonso wouldn't take any shit from that team and might actually piss them off enough to actually try again. guanyu can stay at alfa romeo, i think he could really build something there with a little time, but let's pair him with magnussen. those seem like two complementary personalities and, while not in top shelf cars, magnussen does have years of experience. i'm pulling in callum ilott and liam lawson for alpine. big gamble to pair two rookies, but alpine need to try something new. and they're both a bit of firecrackers who could probably spur each other on through alternating rage and friendship. alex albon is off to mclaren, who now have a proper team principal named cyril and a distinct lack of zak brown. and ricciardo's back. reunite the dream team, add in alex's input and raw natural ability. can't get worse, right? let's try out fred vesti and esteban ocon at williams. love my freddy boy <3 and este and he could be goofy goobers together! and, of course, este would have so much to teach, with his experience. last and frankly least, but not the drivers! i say give jack doohan his shot at haas but, since the car is absolute garbage, he needs a very strong mentor. you can take your pick of a recently un-retired, "wow, nascar was a letdown" kimi raikkonen or jenson button. this was actually super fun!! obviously i'm biased toward my f2 faves, but i also genuinely believe they all deserve their shot, if not now, then someday :)

#thanks again for asking!#lovely people being lovely <3 #ask #answered #personal

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thunderbladecath · 2 years

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👘- A memory associated with an article of clothing they have

The Sword Cup Tournament was in full swing; Catherine had fully expected that she would be representing the Blue Lion House that year, but she had instead been left to cheer on her younger housemate, trying with all her might not to feel the judgement and envy that rose whenever he landed a blow or blocked a swing. The roar of the crowd buzzed like static in the air, and it pulsed through her body like waves reverberating through her very core. Of course, she was happy for her classmate, of course. He was, after all, standing for the pride and joy of the Blue Lions. She'd just thought... well.. She'd just thought that it would be her, showing the Golden Deer and the Black Eagles what's what. For the honor of Faerghus, or whatever.

When the tourney was over, and the student representing the Golden Deer was covered in praise and laurels, Catherine slipped away from the training grounds the moment pleasantries permit her. Damn, her arm. She winced and raised her hand to the bandage around her shoulder. She would have fought, against the physician's orders mind you, except she could barely raise her elbow halfway to the height of her shoulder and her house leader noticed and doubly forbade it. Not to mention her professor. Uhg. Triply banned.

Walking through the quad, and then down towards to merchants' area, Catherine made her way through shop keepers' calling and decadent smells before she arrived at the blacksmith. The older woman was in the midst of pulling a long, thick piece of metal out of the kiln before moving it over to an anvil and hammering away. 'A broadsword', Catherine recognized, and looked upon it with something akin to desire.

"Having thoughts, kid?"

Catherine startled, taken off guard that the smithy had even realized she was there. Gathering her composure, Catherine invited herself inside the small shop, keeping a safe distance from the blacksmith and her current project. "I haven't really seen anyone use one of those," the younger girl said.

"And you probably won't," responded the blacksmith. "This is a special request, from one of my clients in Dagda. I've been working on weapons for him for, oh, twenty-five years now." She placed her hammer and tongs on the anvil beside the sword and walked to the back of her shop. "I finished these up about an hour ago," she said, reaching behind the expanse of a shelf.

Catherine watched as she produced her shoulders, shimmering in the firelight and looking even better than they did when they were new. "Wow, those looks amazing."

The blacksmith plopped the heavy armor onto a wooden table, its buckles making a clunking sound as she did. "Hammered out the dents," she explained. "Replaced some of the padding inside with new leather. I don't know why you didn't complain about this digging into you."

Catherine shrugged. Truth be told, in combat she never really much noticed her discomfort. Reaching forward, she moved the smaller metal pieces that would rest over her upper arms, testing its ability to open and close against the new rivets. "Woah, I don't think I've ever felt it give me this little resistance. Man, I'm going to be so much faster in combat now."

"Don't rush it," the blacksmith said, eyeing over the injury on Catherine's arm.

Catherine defensively raised her hand to her shoulder. "Look, I've already got it from the physician, my professor, and countless others. I get it. I'll fight when I fight," she said, wondering exactly when that would be and if she could somehow speed along the healing process. "Honestly, the riveting feels great. Next time I'll be so much faster at blocking blows."

"The riveting wasn't the problem," corrected the blacksmith, opening the armor before Catherine could grab it from the table. "Look at this," she said, placing her hand on the leather. "When I first started on your shoulders, the leather was completely worn away. Not just here, but also here." She reached between the smaller pieces of metal and gently tugged on a piece of leather string. "This? It was far worse than your padding. Honestly, it's a wonder your shoulders didn't snap apart sooner. What was keeping them together, your faith?"

"Alright, alright I get it." She reached into her pocket and grabbed her coin purse. "How much do I owe you?"

The blacksmith studied her for a moment. "Hang on," she said and walked into the back of her shop again. Catherine watched in slight confusion before she returned moments later. The older woman produced a string of brown leather. "Take this," she said. "Goddess protect you, you are reckless."

"That's what they tell me," said Catherine, not quite understanding the other woman's angle.

"Look, your shoulders are going to snap again. And when they do, and when you doubtlessly keep charging into battle, I just ask that you take a minute to retie them to your gambeson," she said. "Otherwise, whoever you are fighting against will doubtlessly exploit that weakness of yours and who knows, they might even hack your arm off next time."

Catherine accepted the blacksmith's offering and this particular bit of advice. She named her price and Catherine slipped her the coin.

Grabbing her shoulders, Catherine began to walk away. "Oh, and Cassandra?" Catherine looked back at the blacksmith. "Do the world a favor and wear a damn gorget."

With only a second's thought, Catherine took the leather strip she had been gifted just moments before and wrapped it once, twice around her throat. "There you go," she said, grinning ear to ear. "My gorget."

#Catherine Charon #ask meme

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