#louisiana spell work
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"Everywhere." (dbf!joel x reader)
summary: Before beginning to work in your new job, you decided to visit your dad in Texas for the whole summer break. What you didn't know is, that you would meet your teenager's crush, your dad's best friend, again. Joel fucking Miller.
words: 5.4k
trigger warnings: dbf!Joel, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is in his early 40s), no!outbreak!Joel, some mentions of y/n, a little bit angst, 18+, smut (f!nger!ng, praising, s3x, ect.)
a/n: well, it's been a while since I posted. I hope you're all doing well and I hope you'll enjoy this new ff. <3
(sorry for spelling mistakes, english is still not my first language)
-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡-------------------
It has been two months now since you have this special affair. Every time you sneak over to him, your breath quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you’re getting nearer to him.
Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.
Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.
But it is not just the sex…
Every time you’re with him, you forget all your worries and fears.
Every time you're with him, he makes you feel safe.
He makes you feel loved.
He makes you feel alive.
When you think of all this, it is just perfect.
But it's not.
No one can know.
No one can know that you sneak out mostly every night to go to him.
No one can know how you feel about him.
No one can see.
It has to be a secret.
When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours…
Even if you are neighbours.
It’s not easy. It’s hard.
But even if the fear of having to end everything doesn’t let you go… it doesn’t keep you from doing it.
Maybe someday, you can let everybody see.
See that you love him.
But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s complicated.
You don’t know if he really feels the same way about you do.
But there’s one thing you really know.
You’re in love with Joel Miller.
Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.
The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.
The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.
The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.
And… the Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.
You were 14 when you moved to Texas with your dad. It was shortly after your mom and dad’s divorce. He got the legal custody of you. And you were kind of relieved that you didn’t have to live with your mother. Sometimes in the past, she got pretty impulsive towards you and your parents just kept fighting. But you still have some contact with her.
So, it was good to begin all over again. You went to a new school, made some friends and all kinds of that stuff. Your dad also found a new job and got along with the neighbors, especially Joel Miller.
They got along pretty well, since they were both a single dad with one daughter.
But all besides that, you never really knew him. You waved him when you saw him outside.
When he was over at, your dad's house you simply said hello. You never really wanted to talk to your dads' friends.
But everything changed when you became older. You remember how your dad asked you to look after Joel 8 years old daughter Sarah and you didn’t say no to that. It was a good way of earning some money of your own.
So, you’re started with 18 to babysit Joel's daughter. And that’s when you started getting a slight crush on him. You noticed over time that you feel different with him than with the two or three boys in your age, you dated in the past. Over the two years you’ve started getting an immense crush on him, but it was hopeless. It was just a dream fantasy of him and you getting together since he was that older than you. Just a teenager’s crush.
At the end of 19 you left for college in Louisiana and told yourself to grow up. You studied philosophy and even if it wasn’t always so easy, you finished from college and then even got a job as a professor in another university to teach philosophy.
But before you started working in your new job, there was a long summer break. And after all the learning and writing exams, you deserved it the most.
You decided to visit your dad in Texas and stay there for the whole break because you didn’t see him often for the past years. You also wanted to spend your 26th birthday with him and in your second hometown.
You pulled over your car in the driveway and parked. As you got out of the car, your dad already walked towards you. “Oh, there’s my girl!”, he smiled happily and hugged you tightly. “It’s so good to be back home!”, you said. Your dad and you small talked for a bit while he was getting out your luggage out of the car. Suddenly, you heard a very familiar voice.
“Hey buddy”, you heard, and you turned around. You saw them talking and then saw who he was.
“Hey, you still remember …?”, your dad says but you already finished the sentence in your thoughts.
Joel.
When he stands in front of you, you freeze. He looks even hotter than before…
How can someone look that good in his 40s?
You cleared your throat. “Yea- of course”, you responded. Your heart begins to race. “Umm- How’s Sarah?”, you asked firmly. “She’s doing really well. She’s on a vacation with some of her school friends for the whole summer break. But she would be so happy to see you”, you remembered him replying with his texan accent.
And that’s how everything started. You saw him way more often and talked to him when he was at your dad’s house. He made you laugh and feel safe. Every time he was just near you, you couldn’t think rationally. The first weeks after your arrival, you spend a lot of time with Joel since there was a lot going on your dad’s work.
Every morning after breakfast you went over to his house and you two played UNO, chess or simple board games. He showed you around the neighbourhood and told you everything you’ve missed while your away. You noticed that during the time you spent together, he looked at you in a different way. You thought you’re just being delusional, but he acted differently towards you, but differently good.
You often caught him staring at you, every time he called you “darling” or “princess”, you got goosebumps and when you teased him, which you loved, he got so nervous.
There was just this tension between you two.
And one day, it just happened. You were at his house and put on your shoes to go home because it was already kind of late and you wanted to get home before your dad did.
Joel was sitting on the couch, watching football. “You’re sure you got everything?”, he asked you while looking at the TV. “Yea- I think so”, you replied and put on your jacket. You put your hands in your pockets and noticed that you forgot your keys. They were lying next to Joel on the other side of the couch.
You smirked, walked over to him and bend right over his lap to grab your keys. “ ‘just need to grab my keys…”, you mumbled and felt his whole body getting tense. “I know what you’re doing...”, you remember him mumbling under his breath.
“I’m not doing anything, old man”, you chuckled, grabbed your keys and walked towards the door. He stood up and you thought he would open the door for you, like he always did, like a gentleman. But now he was just standing there.
“Well, I wish you a good night, then”, you smiled and opened the door half way, until he closed it. He pushed you against it and the next second you felt his lips on yours. You froze and the butterflies in your belly got crazy. Your heart was racing but you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back.
And that’s how this whole affair thing started.
Nearly every night you sneaked out to him, like today.
You’re in his bedroom and the only thing you can hear is heavy breathing, moans and skin clapping together. “Joel-“, you breath out while you’re lying on your stomach, and he’s fucking you from behind.
His one hand grabbing your waist and the other hand pulling your hair back, makes your eyes roll back. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight-“, he groans and thrusting into you even deeper.
You squeeze your eyes together, slowly feeling that very familiar feeling in your lower stomach. “Joel, I’m gonna-“, he cuts you off.
“No, not now. I wanna look at you-“, he gasps, and you suddenly feel an emptiness in you, as he pulls out.
“Joel-“, you whine, and he flips you around on your back. “Shh, you can take it”, he breathes. He leans over you and kisses you passionately. His tongue explores your mouth, and you still can taste yourself in his mouth from him eating you out earlier.
His hand slides over your belly, grabbing your breast and squeezing them harshly while his other hand spreads your legs. He breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. You look right into his eyes… his beautiful eyes.
He rubs his tip over your wet pussy, teasing you. “Fuck Joel- I cant-“, you whimper and bite your lower lip. “You can…”, he whispers and pushes his hard dick into you.
You moan satisfied as the emptiness fades away. He begins thrusting into you while his hand is slowly wrapping around your neck.
“You’re such a good girl…”, he groans and pushing your waist into the mattress. It doesn’t take you long for you to feel that familiar feeling again. Joel feels it too.
Between your loud moans and breaths, you want to say it, but he places his lips on yours. “I know, baby… me too”, he breaths. Everything gets tense in your body.
You chuckle slightly, but your chuckle fades quickly, by feeling him directly hitting your g-spot. Your moans get louder and you roll back your eyes.
“Look at me…”, he slightly growls by being just concentrated on you. You feel his dick twitching inside of you. You pull yourself together and look at him. His strong arms, six-pack shining in the moonlight that comes through the window.
“My beautiful girl…”, he moans, and that’s it
“Cum for me.”, and you do. You cum all over his dick which leaves you breathless. You look at him, while he continues thrusting into you two more times, until you see his mouth opening and feeling him filling you right up.
You come fresh out of the shower wearing comfy shorts and a white tank top. You put your towel dried hair up in a bun and walk downstairs to the kitchen. You hear the shower still running upstairs, since Joel is still in there.
You walk to the fridge and open it. You get out a beer for Joel and an ice cream for you. You close the fridge and walk to the living room, placing the cold beer on the table and take a quick look at the clock.
12pm
While eating your ice cream, you look at Joels house plants, which just nearly survived because of you. You chuckle sightly and begin watering them.
“they would already be dead if I didn’t had you“, you hear Joels voice say behind you.
“I know”, you reply quietly and concentrated on the plants. You hear Joel sit down on the couch and open his beer. As you keep watering the plants, you see Joel searching for the TV remote.
“it is literally right next to you”, you sigh and let out a chuckle. You put the watering can away and jump on the couch next to him. His stare is fixed on the TV while he drinks his beer. You rest your head on his shoulder and he puts his hand on your thigh, caressing it.
“Joel”, you mumble and keep watching TV.
“Hm..?”, he hums.
“Í have been thinking about… well, how this all will go on, when the summer break ends..”, you whisper cautious, watching his reaction directly.
All you hear is a sigh from him while he takes a sip from his beer. “go on?”, he replies focused on the TV. You gulp, moving away from him and sitting up.
“well yes- how will this thing go on?”, you ask more seriously, pointing on him and you. “or don’t you want it goes on?”, you mumble, feeling your heart getting heavier.
“‘never really thought about it-“´, he replies with a sound like he doesn’t really give a shit, he’s just concentrated on his TV. You scoff and get up. You grab your bag pack and walk to the entrance, slipping into your shoes.
“wait-“, Joel sighs and you hear him get up. “that’s not what I meant”, he mumbles and rubs his forehead while watching you.
“well, I think its really clear what you mean and think”, you scoff again and grab your jacket. “look- I never really thought about it”, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him.
“I don’t know what you expect from me-“, he mumbles. Your heart gets heavier again, and you shake your hand, while you can't believe what’s really going on.
“what I expect you to-“, you stop and take a deep breath, “I’ll go, my dad will come back from work soon”, you whisper and get your hand out of his grip.
Opening the door. “good night, Joel”, you mumble and walk to your house. The last thing you hear from Joel was a loud sigh, and then the closing of the door.
——
You’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. The bright sunlight was shining through the window. You think about last night and sigh.
‘Did he really never thought about it…?’, you think to yourself.
You stand up and walk over to your desk. You look in the mirror, noticing some hickeys on your neck.
Your mind plays back last night, his lips pressed on your neck, while his fingers are buried inside of you. How he- “y/n, would you come down please?”, you hear your dad calling from downstairs, ripping you out of your thoughts.
“Yes!”, you reply and sigh. You quickly grab your cute summer dress out of your closet and quickly make yourself ready in the bathroom, covering up all these hickeys. While you run downstairs, you put your hair up in a messy bun. “What is it, dad?”, you ask loudly and walk into the kitchen.
“You remember how I talked about these grill party’s, every neighbour does for the neighbourhood? Today its my turn”, you hear him talking out of the living room, while you grab yourself a coke. “yeah, what about it?”, you ask, making your way into the living room.
“well, I need your help in organising, Joel isn’t enough, you know”, he laughs, and you freeze in the doorway, looking at Joel who’s sitting next to your dad on the couch.
“Joel is helping us since we’ll help him next week when he has to do the grill party”, your dad says, looking with a smirk to Joel. You don’t answer.
“hey? Did you hear what I said, lazy head?”, your dad laughs while Joel looks at you. “yea- um sorry. I heard you”, you mumble as you pull yourself together and clear your throat. “I mean, yea, I can help you. What should I do?”, you ask, trying to ignore Joel and just looking at your dad.
“well, while I get everything prepared here, you and Joel can get groceries shopping”, he suggests and takes a look at Joel, looking for a reply.
“Sure”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on his back. “I mean-“, you get cut off. “We’re already on our way”, Joel says and gets up, grabbing his cars keys which are laying on the couch. You scoff, shaking your head. “Come on”, Joel calls and opens the door.
“bye dad”, you mumble quietly and grab your shoes, putting them on and walking through the door, towards his car.
“Thanks for asking me”, you whisper annoyed and open the car door and take a seat.
“You’re welcome, darling”, Joel replies and gets in the front seat and starts the engine. As he begins driving, you let the window down and close your eyes, relaxing under the warm breeze on your face.
“how did you sleep?”, Joel suddenly asks, trying to smalltalk and you chuckle. “you’re really bad at small talk, you know that? But I didn’t sleep well, no”, you reply and watch the kid's playing soccer as you pass by a house.
“look, because of yesterday-“, Joel begins talking but then stops. He rubs his forehead and takes a deep breath.
“I-“, he tries. “we’re there”, you cut him off and directly as he parks you get out of the car.
You have no nerves for this now.
You two arrive back at your home, and take out the whole groceries, placing them on the kitchen counter.
“thanks you two”, your dad says as he walks past you, kind of stressed. “I’ll be back in a minute, I need to go over to Veronica”, he shouts since he’s already out of the door. Veronica is one of your neighbours, she’s a really nice old lady.
You look over to Joel next to you, who just finished taking out all the groceries. You suddenly feel his hands on your waist, turning you around and pressing you against the kitchen counter.
You let out a sigh. “Joel-“, you mumble and try to get out of his grip. “Look at me”, he says clearly and stern.
“Come on, now-“, you whine and he pushes you against the counter even more. “I said, look at me”, he stated. You roll your eyes and look up to him. “what?”, you whisper annoyingly.
The next thing you feel are his lips pressed on yours. You try to resist, but your body replies to him by opening your mouth, allowing his tounge to explore yours. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you.
“I’m sorry…”, he breathes as you pause the kiss. “I’m sorry about yesterday.. of course I want all this to keep going, but- it’s just difficult”, he mumbles and presses his lips on yours again.
“I know…”, you murmur against his lips.
“we’ll figure something out…”, he whispers as he stops the kiss again and caresses your cheek.
You let out a slight smile and nod. You look right into his eyes and that’s when this desire kicks in again. You immediately slam your lips on his again, grabbing onto his shirt. You grab his hand, placing it on your clothed breast. He squeezes it harshly, rubbing with his fingers in circles around your nipple.
You whimper into the kiss, feeling this ache between your legs again. You grab his hand, leading it down your stomach, but he stops. “We can’t- your dad.”, he points out and stops.
“he’s not there yet- I need you…”, you whisper desperately into his ear.
Joel hesitates. “fuck…”, he hisses under his breath. That’s when his hand slips under your dress, pushing away your panties and sliding two fingers into your wet pussy. You let out a satisfied moan and let your head fall back.
“You need to be quick, baby”, he mumbles into your ear while he grabs your waist with his other hand, so he can support you in standing. His fingers slide in and out, searching after your soft spot. As he finds this spot, your moans get louder and your legs weaker.
“fuck, joel…”, you breath out, squeezing your eyes together as you feel your climax building up in your lower stomach. “come on, baby..”, he whispers into your ear while he hits this exact spot with his fingers. You hear the door unlock. As he feels you’re cumming, he covers your mouth with his hand.
“cum for me, sweetheart…”, he demands as he hits this spot one last time and you cum with a loud moan, which his hand muffles.
“I’m back”, you two hear your dad call and hear his steps getting nearer the kitchen. He pulls his fingers out of you, releases you out of his grip and licks off his fingers. You pull down your dress again and that’s when your dad comes in.
“everything okay?”, he asks with a smile and you nod, still out of breath.
“yea”, you reply and give him a forced smile back.
‘That was close’, you think to yourself.
“Well then, let’s make everything ready for tonight”, he chuckles and walks out of the kitchen. You take a glance at Joel, who’s still a little shocked since you two almost got caught. You go on tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek. You take the groceries and carry them out to the garden, with Joel looking after you.
You hear so many laughters coming out of the garden while you’re in the kitchen to grab some drinks for outside. The whole garden was full, since almost the whole neighbourhood was there.
You go out, with all the drinks in your hand, placing them on the table. You take a glass of water and give it to Veronica, the old lady, which as your neighbour.
“thank you, sweetheart”, she says with a kind smile. You look around, and see everyone chatting, drinking or eating. Your stare falls on Joel, who was talking and laughing with your dad while they are standing at the grill.
‘He would never really approve of you and Joel, would he?’
You sigh.
But you remember Joel words…
“We’ll figure something out“
And that’s how the next following weeks kept going. You keep sneaking over to him at night. But your dad often noticed or saw you going out when he came home late from work, and then you always had to come up with some random excuse.
You slowly noticed that your dad has got quiet of sceptical and tried to talk about you once because you always go out late. But you’re a adult. And you really couldn’t care, all you could care about was him.
Joel Miller.
It was midnight and you and Joel are laying in his bed. You lay in his arms while he’s running his fingers through your hair. Your breath was still fast, 5 minutes ago he fucked the shit out of you.
You feel so safe and comfortable in his arms, but thinking about that you have to go back to Louisiana… You let out a sigh and hug him tightly.
“you’re okay?”, you hear Joel mumbling. You nod slowly, “yea”
Joel knows exactly what’s on your mind. “tell me, when you could go anywhere you want on this earth, where would it be?”, he asks and looks down at you.
You chuckle slightly. “I don’t know… I always wanted to see the northern lights”, you reply.
“why are you asking?”, you ask confused and sit up, pulling the blanket over your body.
“maybe I can take you there someday”, he mumbles and gives you a slight smirk.
You roll your eyes. “yea sure…”, you mumble.
“somewhere else too?”, he raises his eyebrows and sits up too.
“come on joel, don’t play with me”, you hit him playfully. “no, I mean it”, he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap.
“something else?”, he asks again.
“hmm… maybe- the maldives… I was never on the maldives”, you whisper.
“noted.”, he mumbles and pretends to write it down. You giggle. “somewhere else?”, he asks again with a smile.
God, how you love his smile.
“really? You don’t even have that much money, old man”, you chuckle as he grabs you by your waist again and pushes you in the mattress while leaning over you.
“i don’t care, i’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”, he whispers and looks right into your eyes. Your thoughts about you leaving immediately vanish and you give him a smile. He presses his lips on yours.
“everywhere?”, you mumble into his kiss while your heart was pounding like crazy.
He nods. “everywhere.”,
He replies and places kisses on your neck, while he slowly moves down your stomach. You bite your lip, looking at him how he disappears under the blanket between your legs. You let out a soft moan as you feel his lips pressed against your clit and give yourself totally to him.
You put on your shoes while the sun starts to come out slowly. “i’ll come back tonight, then”, you mumble tired and go on tiptoes to place a kiss on Joel’s lips. He hums against your lips in agreement.
“I thought about showing you how to play guitar…”, he whispers while his lips can’t leave yours. You let out a chuckle, “okay…”.
You grab your jacket and open the door. “see you then”, you smile and walk out the door.
You’re in town alone. You’re walking around the shopping centre to get some ingredients for your birthday cake. You’ll get 26 years old in 4 days.
Old, you think.
While you were grocery shopping, Joel was knocking at the door of your dads house.
Your dad opens the door. “Hey buddy, what do you need?”, he asks and leans against the doorframe.
“I need to borrow this toolkit of yours, ‘need to repair something”, Joel says and clears his throat. “Yea sure, come in”, your dad smiles and walks with him into the living room. “Wait here”, he says and after some minutes he comes back with the toolkit and hands it over to Joel.
“Thanks, buddy”, Joel replies and gives him a pat on your dads back.
Joel makes his way to the exit. “Hey um, I wanted to ask you something”, your dad stops Joel. He turns around and raises his eyebrows. “sure, what is it?”, Joel replies.
“well um- I noticed y/n sneaking around at night and coming home super tired- I mean, I know she’s a grown up, but she’s still my daughter. I’m just a little concerned , since we usually talk about almost everything“, your dad says and Joel gulps.
“do you know anything? You know, since you two spend some time together while I was working, I’m really grateful for that, buddy”, your dad continues, and Joel pulls himself together.
“sure- no thing, but I know nothing, sorry”, Joel mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “okay… yea, I just don’t want her to get in trouble or anything, not that she sneaks around with some creep or something“, your dad laughs.
Joel let’s out a fake laugh too while a wave of guilt runs over his whole body.
“you’ll tell me, when you know something, right? Since we’re buddies?”, your dad asks and places his hand on Joel’s shoulder.
“Sure”, Joel replies and takes a deep breath.
“I’ll have to get going then”, he clears his throat again and your dad nods.
“sure, good luck with the toolkit”, your dad smiles and waves at him while Joel walks over the street to his house.
It was 10pm and you walk over Joel’s house with these butterflies in your stomach going crazy again and knock on the door. He opens it.
“Hey”, you say with a smile and go on tiptoes to give him a kiss, but he turns his head. You look at him confused.
“You’re okay?”, you chuckle and stand in front him, waiting for him to answer. He lets out a sigh and rubs his forehead.
“fuck…”, he mumbles under his breath while you raise one eyebrow.
“look- this can’t go on”, he finally speaks out and your heart literally drops.
“w-wait what?”, you stutter in shock and can’t believe this is real right now.
“this won’t and can’t work out.”, he points at you and him.
“what the fuck, joel. Yesterday, you talked with me that you would take me everywhere on this world- and now, you’re like- ending it?”, you repeat everything to make it yourself clear what’s happening right now.
“Look- this was a huge mistake. It’s just too complicated and-“, you cut him off.
“You said, we’ll figure something out“, you get louder and more upset while everything around you gets hotter and your eyes wetter.
“well- unfortunately we can’t. It can’t go on like this, y/n. you need to find someone else”, he mumbles stern.
“find someone else?!”, you repeat and can’t believe every word what’s coming out of his mouth.
“what the actual fuck… I thought you loved me-“, you nearly shout and a tear runs down your cheek.
“love you? I never loved you-“, he suddenly says out loud without thinking. And that’s when your whole world stands still. You stare at him with tears in your eyes.
“fuck you, joel.”, you hiss and slap him right into the face.
Then you just turn around and walk over to your house again, trying to control the emotions which are running through your whole body right now. You quickly wipe your tears away and go into your room, not looking back.
And just like that, everything ended.
It has been four days now since Joel ended this special affair.
You didn’t sneak over to him anymore, but your breath still quickens, and butterflies fly around in your stomach when you see him, but this time, with a sharp pain right into your stomach.
Every time you lay in bed alone, you feel his hands and his kisses all over you.
Every time you think of him, thinking of every night you two had… you can't bear the ache between your legs.
But it was not just the sex…
Every time you were with him, you forgot all your worries and fears.
Every time you were with him, he made you feel safe.
He made you feel loved.
He made you feel alive.
When you think of all this, it was just perfect.
But it wasn’t.
No one could’ve known.
No one could’ve known that you sneaked out mostly every night to go to him.
No one can know how you still feel about him.
No one can see.
It had to be a secret.
When you’re not alone, you just have to act like your just neighbours, what you now just are.
It’s still not easy. It’s hard.
But now that the fear of having to end everything came true… it keeps you from doing it.
Now it’s just a fantasy that maybe someday, you can let everybody see.
See that you love him.
But that’s all just in your head. You love him, you really do, but… it’s more than complicated.
You know that he doesn’t really feel the same way about you do.
But there’s one thing you really know.
You’re in love with Joel Miller.
Yes, the Joel Miller who’s nearly twenty years older than you.
The Joel Miller who’s you’re neighbour and has known you since you’re a teenager.
The Joel Miller you’ve watched doing work in his garden.
The Joel Miller with these beautiful eyes and strong arms.
The Joel Miller who’s unfortunately your dad’s best friend.
And… The Joel Miller who broke your heart in thousand pieces.
You sit in front your birthday cake. Your dad nearly invited the whole neighborhood and now everyone waits for you to blow out your candles. You know Joel’s here too and you feel his eyes on you. That’s when the sharp pain kicks in again.
You look up from your cake and see him leaned against the doorframe of the living room.
‘You’ll regret it, Joel’, you think to yourself.
Then you look on your candles again and blow them out.
“Happy fucking birthday to me”
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Chitimacha
Chitimacha is a Native American language of Louisiana that was spoken until the death of its last two native speakers, Ben (1934) & Delphine (1940), pictured here.
Thankfully, a linguist named Morris Swadesh (pictured) worked with Ben & Delphine to write down 120 Chitimacha stories and create a basic dictionary before they died.
Today, the Chitimacha tribe is revitalizing their language using those archival materials. They’ve created Rosetta Stone language learning software for Chitimacha, have daily language and culture classes in the tribal school, and have put up bilingual English-Chitimacha signs in many places.
Last week, I visited the Chitimacha reservation to run a workshop for the language teachers. We practiced many different pronunciation and grammar details, but also coined many new words! Here are a few we came up with:
Neymank Waxta ‘Indigenous Peoples Day’ (literally ‘people of the land’s day')
gaspam ‘refrigerator’ (literally ‘thing that causes it to be cold’)
pexpa patsi ‘volleyball’ = pexpa ‘cause to fly’ + patsi ‘ball’
huuta qapx kudihn ‘kayak’ (literally ‘boat closed in on itself’)
Chitimacha has a unique spelling system:
⟨b, d, g, dz, j⟩ are ejective consonants /pʼ, tʼ, kʼ, t͡sʼ, t͡ʃʼ/
⟨q⟩ is a glottal stop /ʔ/
⟨x⟩ is the palato-alveolar fricative /ʃ/
You can read more about the Chitimacha language in my forthcoming book chapter, available here:
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If She Didn't Respect Christianity, What Makes You Think She Would Respect Other Religions
I mean she already took a lot of concepts of Christianity (and to some extent Judaism) and butchered them. We Christians were expected to just allow it because it's a so-called colonist religion when ignoring that Christianity has tons of poc who influenced it and it freaking comes from the Middle East. Seriously, just remember the backlash against Asmodeus and Beelzebub being about restraint when they are supposed to be the embodiment of their sins, yet they invoke artistic license. But now it's something like Voodoo people are up in arms, but again this is what happens when you have someone who is nonchalant and ignorant about other people's religions.
Also despite how people are saying only black people practice it, it's been practiced by white people since the 19th century so no it's not closed off to white people especially those who grew up around Louisiana heritage. And the Voodoo and Vodun spelling is a case of evolution itself and many practitioners in the Louisianian sect often use Voodoo. For the Haitian sect, they prefer using Vodoun to differ from one another. While Voodoo is influenced by Catholicism, the use of pagan gods and other stuff makes it considered heretical for mainstream Christian religion. One thing to add most of the depictions of Voodoo is mostly touristy like voodoo dolls are actually the reverse of their purpose which is to actually bless people. So, while for the tourists, Voodoo shops will give out dolls in actual practice they are meant for blessings.
Also evil people can use voodoo, while they don't have a name in Louisiana Voodoo in Haitian Vodom they are called bokors. While Bokors can be good or evil, they do serve the loa with both hands. So yeah, there can be evil voodoo practitioners who can invoke Loa for their own purposes. Also going back to white people and Vodun/Voodoo there are loa in the pantheon which are white like Mademoiselle Charlotte, Madam Brigette (wife of the famous Baron Samedi) , and Dinclinsin (who is often depicted as white colonial slave owner, feared for his temper and cruelty). Seriously, between you and me I wonder how that last asswipe got into the pantheon and why more fiction depicting Voodoo/Vodun doesn't have him as a villain who is willing to work with white supremacists. Again with that in mind it again doesn't mean that the religion is closed off to white people if it has white members of it's pantheon.
So in my opinion, there is some things about voodoo in depiction that I can let slide, but on the other hand I think people do think to research a bit more to better capture it. And I say that for all religions and not just minority religions. Research is good to better understand concepts and not look ignorant. Seriously, I would say how Vivziepop depicts Christianity is more like pop culture version with the added bonus of adding things that goes against the idea of faith like redeeming demons and again having the freaking ideas that the embodiments of sin have any morals. Also I don't think she figured out how other pantheons fit neatly in here because I do think there would be some loa that could fit in heaven, while other loa would fit in hell better. Baka is one of those few evil Loas and he often requires blood sacrifice and he would have fit Alastor more serving. Also Kalfu is also someone that Alastor serves because he does allow evil loa to come in. So again, an evil voodoo practitioner is possible if it depends on which god they serve.
#helluva boss#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#helluva boss critique#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#vivziepop#anti-vivziepop#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critique
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Hi, I read your monster au posts and they are amazing. Though I was wondering what would Rollo be and how would he handle there being a magicless human given his attitude in canon, as well as how would GloMas go down with Yuu and Mini!Yuu in that au?
So, I’d been holding off on answering this for Rollo until I had a better grasp on his personality and behavior, as deciding the monster/cryptid species that fits best is important. But since the Glorious Masquerade is coming to the ENG servers tomorrow (I’m not ready!!!), it feels like the right time to introduce him into the Monster!AU!
Also, as for whether or not RSA has seen Yuu/mini!Yuu, I think at least Che'nya and Neige and the dwarves have seen them yes! Outside of those, I leave that up to you/whatever direction the game takes us down next! And thank you so much, I'm glad everyone loves the AU's ;;v;;
To answer the question, I decided to base him off the French (and coincidentally Louisiana) cryptid “feu follet”, otherwise known as a Will-o’-the-wisp. Why did I choose this versus creatures like the “Beast of Gévaudan” or the “Gaueco” which will make him a fluffy canine monster? Well, while I think both would be interesting concepts to work with, neither of them really seem to fit the vibe I got from him as he’s portrayed in the beginning (…well, before chaos as usual hits the fan of course). Plus, it was also an interesting excuse to delve into more of the non-animal based ones besides Ortho being a golem!
WARNING: SOME SPOILERS AHEAD AND MENTION OF DEATH BASED ON THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE FEU FOLLET/WILL-O’-THE-WISP!
Anyway, I picture him being more of a feu follet/Will-o’-the-wisp as a call to his UM “Dark Fire” and his last name Flamme, which translates to “flame” in French. Hence, as a “ghost light”, it seemed more fitting! Feu follets are said to come in various shades of blue, yellow, red, and even green—now imagine him changing color based on his emotions and having to control that side in public! His poker face means nothing behind that handkerchief if he turns colors! 😂 (Especially if you keep in mind color theory!)
While they’re also generally harmless, however, if you’re familiar with the legend of Will-‘o-the-wisps (which has multiple different variations and stories across the world!), following one at night thinking it’s a fellow traveler can lead to one’s death in a marsh, bog, swamp, etc. Typically, they’re seen in a graveyard or one of the above-mentioned areas. Since no one knew how dangerous Rollo was until it was too late, it seemed fitting for him to be one!
By the way, he can be corporeal to handle things or be hugged by someone. He can also phase through things he wants to avoid…now imagine his hat getting caught between the fence bars! 🤣🤣🤣
With that out of the way, let’s discuss his reaction to Yuu and mini!Yuu!
Given that he’s more comfortable with non-magic users, he’d be fascinated and charmed at the thought of humans—creatures of historic legend and cryptic bedtime stories—being non-magic. A world where magic doesn’t exist and no one will be consumed by blot or harmed by spells gone awry? He’d likely want to know more, but he wouldn’t want to get too close—after all, he’s not exactly keen on making friends or showing a vulnerable side. Yuu is gonna have their work cut out for them if they want to give him pets and scritches! Their best bet is in private where he’s less likely to react so strongly (though if he learns that getting the majority of Yuu’s attention is enough to annoy Malleus and the others, I can see him being smug about it and letting them praise him 😌).
As for mini!Yuu though…
Mini!Yuu: *toddling around the room, giggling as they support the large puffy cap on their head*
Azul: “Where did you get that, little one?”
Mini!Yuu: “Mr. Rollo dropped it and let me wear it!” *adjusts the cap with one hand to try and look up at them before bumping into Deuce’s leg* “Oof!”
Deuce: “Oop! Careful, Yuu!”
Riddle: “I’m surprised he allowed you to wear it given his position as Student Council President.”
/Meanwhile/
Vice President: “Uh…President Rollo? Where is your cap?”
Rollo: *holding handkerchief to his mouth* “Yuu wanted to know how heavy it was.”
Vice President: “Y-you’ve never let yourself be out of uniform!” *gets emotional* “But you’re allowing the human child to wear it…that is so precious!”
Rollo: *scowls, his wisp body turning reddish-pink in embarrassment*
///////////
Pfft…I just couldn’t resist a bit of cuteness~! UvU/)
As for how the whole event would go down…well, I can imagine that Rollo would believe he’s doing the right thing, so him possibly trying to separate Yuu from the others using the flowers would be even more terrifying! For mini!Yuu, the whole situation would be absolutely terrifying for the toddler since I doubt the others would have let them come with them to stop Rollo. So, the boys would likely leave them with Grandpa Trein for safety until the whole situation is done and over with.
Once all is said and done, it’s really up to Yuu to decide how they see Rollo after the fact. As for mini!Yuu? Whether they find out it was started because of him or the boys kept it under wraps just like everyone else in NBC being ignorant of what happened, they might just be happy to see he’s okay. Now imagine him dancing with mini!Yuu at the end of the event like Charlotte with Prince Naveen’s younger brother from Princess and the Frog!
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland monster au#twst monster au#rollo flamm#rollo flamme#twst mini!yuu#twisted wonderland mini!yuu#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu#azul ashengrotto#deuce spade#riddle rosehearts#malleus draconia#glorious masquerade event
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BRAVERY
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Demon Alastor x human reader.
๑ | Navigation : where a human summoned a certain demon and both created a deal, where one who seek for protection of her and her family and while the other who see for her body and soul. The demon demands to have her soul to hell from time to time and in order to do that, they share a ring whenever one wants to leave earth or wants to leave earth. Two pairs became close but the other one developed more.
๑ | Tw : angst, unrequited love, swearing
If the word "idiocy" is an understatement at your state right now then, a fool would be the best. Your little curious human mind stumbled upon an old abandoned cabin upon strolling around the woods of Louisiana on New Orleans.
You and your family moved on New Orleans just a month ago and getting bored of being inside of the house, you decided to stroll around then saw an old cabin then went in there.
Upon arriving inside, a sickening chills electrocuted your nerves as your doe eyes wondered around the cabin, dolls, voodos and a book on a pentagram greted your sight.
Normal people would have choosen to flight the place and forget about it, but you, you let the curiosity get the best of you and decided to take the book and eximine it.
Stumbling to a certain spell, you decided to try it.
Did it work? Well, unfortunately, it did. And nownhere you are, shaking under the heated gaze of a deer demon in front of you with its sickening grin.
It radio static voice echoed through the cabin as it asked for what your wish is. It took you a solid minute when answering his question, refusing to believe the sight in front of you.
The stag was getting clearly irritated due to its knitted brows and strained grin. But instead of wishing quickly, you broke into a sprint leaving the cabin with an irritated demon.
Two night have passed, nightmares have been visiting your dreams. The sight of the deer demon haunted your dreams for two long nights. Dark presence and shadows would look around the room in the depths of the night. It made you restless and very exhausted.
Your family started to get worried at the bags under your eyes and your lack of energy, but you refuse to tell them the exact reason for them being religious and would have you an earful of scolding.
You sighed as you hugged your blanket around your form as you tried to calm you racing heart to your chest as you stared at the forming dark shadow on the corner of the room.
You can see face, nor eyes but you feel it's staring at you.
You took a shaky depend breath as you clutched your blanket, too scared to move that it might pounce on you if you made any slight movements. You tried to fight of the fear creeping out of your heart since your grandparents always tells you that, fear feuls a demons hunger more. But clearly your failing miserably at it.
" are you just gonna stare at me all night or will you state what you desire most and seal the deal? " you almost screamed your heart out at the radio static kind of voice if it weren't for a shadow covering your mouth before you let out the scream.
" careful now my dear, we wouldn't want to cause troubles to you parents now we? " the voice mocked before it stepped out of the corner revealing the oh-so-mighty-deer-demon you summoned two nights ago.
You breath heavily as you squirmed to its shadow, you felt your heart stopped as he got closer to your height with a menacing grin.
" look darling, tasting and witnessing your fear and frustrations and all but I have a business to attend to back to my place, it would have been done perfectly finished if it weren't from you rudely interrupting me by summoning. " be breath out as he grabbed your jaw, claws digging to your cheeks as you let out a whimper.
" and you know what I loathed the most? " he growled " that is mindless fawns who interrupts me in the middle of my work for something useless. " he growled again and emphasizing the "mindless fawns".
He let's go of your jaw as he leans back and placing his arms behind his back elegantly.
" now, let's make this quick. " he smiled with a half-liffed eyes.
" you give me your wish and I can fulfill it, anything you want. And by anything, I mean I can give everything. " he hummed as he walked over your bed.
" fame, your love, money, protection , to kill for you—" he stopped in front of your bed " You name it! "
" and in exchange, I'll have your soul. " he grinned menacingly down at you.
" so do we have a deal? " he leaned down once again with his hand stretched out for you to take. You stared at his claws where a soft green glow emitting his hand.
" i-.. I.. " he quirkee a brow at your stutters as he patiently waited for your response.
You thought for a moment about this, it seems like you have no escaped to the action you made. So you swallowed your fear as you took a deep breath.
" m.. May I add something.. F-for my deal? "
" of course darling! Darling you'd like! "
You took your time collecting enough courage to speak as you met his eyes again.
" i- I would like to add to our deal.. That.. You.. To never touch any of my family nor love ones and friends. T-their souls are their to keep and protect them to at all costs! But never make any contact with then unless it's protection. And I still get to do whatever I want after you own my soul! " you rambled as you out up a brave face at the demoness in front of you.
The demon let out a dark chuckled as he retracted his hand.
" now that wouldn't be really fair, now is it darling? "
Your heart stopped for a moment after you thought for another way to still keep your freedom.
" how about this.. I will gave my all to you and you give your all to me.. W-well apart from that is way pass your comfort ,t-that is.. " you squeaked out feeling very embarrassed at your choices of words.
The stag grinned devilishly as he filter his head to the side.
" anything? "
" a-anything.. "
He smirked as he grabbed your hand.
" I would also would love to add in terms for me— " he cooed as he squeezed your hand " I would like to bring your body and soul to hell, with me in how many times I would like. " he grinned.
" wait-thats possible? -"
" in my power, it is. " he smiled.
" but- I'm quite a busy gal, and I'm still a student and a dancer. I can't be always available. " you explained.
" oh? Then night time. "
" my training and contests are in night time.. " you squeaked out.
The stag quirk a brow at you as you thought quickly for a solution.
" h-how about you uh.. Give me something like a ring or any accessories that would let me know if you're coming here or will take me to hell..something that I can still give you a response whether I'm in training or not.."
He gave you a look for a moment before pulling your hand making you crash into his chest.
" fair enough. " he grinned as grin glow emitts the room as a glowing green collar snapped to your neck as the chain leash appeared on the stage hand.
" pleasure doing business to you , dear darling~" he cooed as he yanked the chain making you pulled closer inches from his nose.
" now get the name of the lovely gal I'll be doing business with? I didn't got the chance to get it from two nights ago when you decided to rudely cut the conversation by running. " he chuckled darkly.
You gulped as you let out a strained voice due to the collar on your neck.
" y-y/n.."
"Y/n." He purred, you felt your stomach tingles at the sound of your name rolling smoothly to his tongue.
" quite a lovely name for a lovely gal indeed! " he smiled as he let go of the leash and then it vanished as you dropped to your bed, coughing.
" the names alastor darling, pleasure to meet you, quit a pleasure! " he exclaimed as he watched your coughing form.
" now that the deals is set, I would love to go back to my place and continue.. My unfinished business.. I'll see you when I can.. Little doe " he cooed as he melts in to the darkness.
For the last couple of days, alastor fulfilled his part of the deal, your family got raising pays to their jobs on Louisiana, you were popular to your school, no one dared to disrespect you, you were the catch and the talk of the school. Though one thing you didn't like is.. The attention, unfortunately, you were quite introverted one.
It's been a couple of days too since you've seen alastor, but you didn't mind. You're still not quite used of his presence, just after knowing that you summoned an overlord.
When he yet again made an appearance to your kitchen, you almost screamed half to death upon seeing a very tall red grinning demon in front of you.
You clutched your chest as you were hunched over with your other hand on the table supporting yourself from you knees getting weak from the scare, you wheezed as you glare at the demon who was grinning in amusement at your startled form.
" fucking HELL never to that again! " you painted as you clutched your racing heart.
" you almost made me face the golden hates of heaven with your stunt! Jeez! "
The stag chuckled as you sat on the chair finally calming your heart.
" fuck.. I think I hear the seven trumpets of heaven. "
" language dear, language. " the stag chuckled as he made his way beside you as you calmed your breathing.
" (insert your language). " you answered sarcastically as you quirked a brow at you.
" so what brings you here? "
" what? Can't I just visit and see how my darling doe doing? " he cooed as he leaned over your seat.
" well I was doing fine that is until you decided to appear out of nowhere and scared the living daylight out of me! " you huffed as you received a laugh from the said demon.
" now now my dear, for the real matter of why I am here it's because.. I would like to take you to hell with me from this moment? "
" why? "
" well just because, no come along. "
" wai-! " before you could protest, you could feel yourself slowly getting succumbed through the darkness as you closed your eyes and feel yourself falling, when you felt the hard ground you stumbled over your stance and landed on your butt as you rubbed your head from a nausea kicking it due to the transportation and the switching realms.
" you could have atleast.. Warned me. " you mumbled and earned an amused laugh from the demon. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted with more demons shocked faces, one was a Blondie, a moth, cat, Cyclops, and a serpent.. And holy fuck- spider. You felt chills crawled in your spine as you saw the spider demon.
Overall upon meeting them, they were nice, especially the blonde, you also got to hang out with the spider who's name was angel. He was nice, the cat gave you an pity look which you understand clearly, the moth gave you a worried look. But overall, their very nice. You like them. And when you first met Rosie and the cannibal town, they almost launched themselves to you when the certain overlord threatened them. You liked Rosie, Rosie liked you, though sometimes she's scary.
Then before you know it, it's been 4 years since you met alastor and the hazbin hotel. You're on your last year as a collage student now. Your relationship with the stag became quite close too, especially you. You've grown very attached to the radio demon and so was he. But yours was differently.
Alastor have also witnessed your very worse and your greatest, he had seen everything. Apart from the feelings you held for the said man.
Alastor have given you advices here and there, quotes, riddles and more. You were also there when the extermination happened 3 years ago, you faced your fears that time like the stag adviced you, sadly you lost one friend in that faithful day.
Right now, it was yet another normal day with you on the radio tower copying your notes while alastor busied hismelf with broadcasting. When you finished, our let out a sigh as you stretched out your limbs as alastor ended his broadcast. You stared at the ceiling of the radio tower as your feelings for him gets strongly as the more seconds you spend with him.
" hey al? " you called for him which he answered with a hum, examining his papers.
" you remember the advice you gave me with my fears right? "
" certainly darling, I do, how can I forget when I always reminds you with it. " he chuckled which you laughed softly at his response.
"I wanna do something brave today."
" oh? Mind enlightening me about it? "
"...well.. I have this one fear I have been holding for 3 years now. "
" go on dear" he hummed as he scribbled to his papers.
You went quiet for a moment as you felt your heart race.
" dear? " he called out to you, realizing you're not answering, he set down his papers as he walked to the couch in front of his broadcasting station and sat in front of you.
" darling? " you finally snapped out of you trance as you meet his eyes. You but your lower lip as you sighed.
" I... You-.. From-.. Ugh for fuck sake- " you groaned from you last sentence with your hand flying over your face in frustration. You took out a heavy sigh as you stared at him directly in the eye as you feel heat crept out to your cheeks.
Alastor quirk a brow at your actions.
" are you alright sweetheart? If your not comfortable enough with sharing this information then you don't have too. Give it a time. " fuck- how can you not fall for this demon when his-his like this?!
It's so wrong but you can't help it.. No man have ever treated you as the same as he treated you.
You felt your lip quiver as you sigh, muttering a small "fuck it".
" alastor.. "
" yes sweetheart? "
".. I-... " you paused as you gripped at the hem of your oversized T-shirt. " I love you. "
The sound of radio scratching erupted across the room making you since as you shamefully avoided his gaze. He was quiet, he went quite. No response or what's over, just an Increasing sound of white radio static.
" I.... I have loved you.. F-for the third years of our meetings.. I know it's very wrong to feel this way for a demon.. Especially I'm a human. " you rambled as you looked down on your lap, your hands gripping at your pants.
" I loved you for.. For you, I don't exactly know- but it just happened. Everything you just did for me, apart from the deal just made me fall for you? I don't know.. This was never ment to happen.. But.. Here I am. " you laughed dryly.
" I know you will never reciprocate this feeling since.. You never have been familiar with this types of emotions..but.. I just want this feelings out and known. " you took a deep breath as you finally met his eyes who was staring at you with wide eyes and strained smile, his ears were laying flat to his head.
" I.. I love you all.. I really do. " you smiled bitterly.
" you don't have to response.. You don't have to answer since I clearly know the answer.. " you tried to keep your voice straight but miserably failing since there are possibilities of him avoiding you for the rest of your life because of you stupid little feelings towards him.
" but... The-.. There's one thing... I wish.. Is.. For us.. To.. " at this point tears were already spilling to your eyes.
" for us.. To.. Not.. " you sobbed.
You sniffles as you hugged yourself as you tried to contain your tears. You wished he would swallow up his pride and embrace you and comfort you, but sadly, you know darling too well he won't.
And before you knew it, you found yourself back in your room.
" i-.. I'm sorry.. " you sniffles.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#alastor x reader angst#hazbin hotel angst#angst#unreciprocated love#ˠ . ° . 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢! 𖤐
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Who's Sorry Now (Bo Sinclair x Reader)
Summary: After nearly a year of being under Bo’s thumb in Ambrose, he’s decided it’s time you get involved in the family business. You never expected to make it this far, and when you finally come face to face with (victims) tourists in town as part of the act, you think it more of a curse than a blessing. Look at the warnings before deciding if you want to read this.
Note: This is mostly a (extremely gross) standalone fic, with some references to events in Howl and Adam Raised a Cain, but it can be read on its own. I took some creative liberties with Trudy's casket again. Inspired by the Connie Francis song. Reader is a woman, but no other descriptors are used. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 5.7k
Warnings: Graphic depictions of murder and violence. Descriptions of violence involving weapons. Disturbing and sadistic behavior. Misogyny. Physical abuse, emotional and psychological manipulation, major Stockholm syndrome. Sexually explicit content which involves coercion/dubious consent, slapping, degradation, cigarette burns, licking water and cum off of a dirty floor (sorry). Do not interact if you are under 18.
Summer raged angry in Ambrose, its unforgiving heat leaving you drenched by the late nightfall, when you’d sit in the passenger seat of Bo’s truck, head hanging out the window as you took in the rush of cool night air. Sometimes he’d take a long way back up to the house, just to indulge this one quirk of yours, despite the fully air-conditioned home that sat atop a hill. Even Vincent struggled in the heat, emerging from his studio dripping in sweat when he actually went down there. Instead, he opted on moving from air-conditioned house to air-conditioned house, checking on each of the wax sculptures that resided in Ambrose.
It was cooler out when you and your friends had arrived in town, hopeful and unsuspecting, making it not quite a year since Bo tangled you into this tapestry of wax, murder, and violence that had been woven since before you were born. Your few freedoms were hard fought, your body and mind littered with scars of what you’d been through at his hands.
Still, you hadn’t quite proven yourself to Bo yet. He’d leave you to work on a grueling yet mundane task he’d given you, but you wouldn’t run even if you had the chance. You felt far too guilty and complacent to claim your victimhood. If you were ever found, no one would believe you. You’d quickly be an accomplice, just as crazy as the rest of them. At least, that’s how you’d view yourself from the outside looking in, unaware of the desperate measures you took to survive, even when you didn’t necessarily want to.
There hadn’t been any visitors to Ambrose for a long while, and with the oppressive humidity that veiled the Louisiana swamplands, the brothers seemed glad for the extended break. You were too, since Bo had told you that if you were going to be “working” in town, you’d have to pull your own weight. Sooner or later, you’d kill someone, either out of necessity or him forcing your hand. You silently hoped that the world would continue to forget about Ambrose, that no one would be able to pass through again, and you and the Sinclair brothers would be the final addition to the dead town’s rot. There was no point in hoping.
The town’s dry spell of unsuspecting motorists broke in the middle of June, a sweltering day you spent mostly inside the gas station, standing in front of the air conditioning vent with a sweating bottle of soda. An unfamiliar car chugged along the street, before pulling into the gas station. You didn’t know much about cars, but the loud bang the machine made when it finally stopped didn’t sound good.
You set your soda down, taking a deep breath before walking outside to join the couple who had gotten out of the car and were arguing. They were around your age, and you wondered if they’d recognize your face at all, recalling it from missing persons ads. When the couple looked at you, however, recognition didn’t spark in either of their faces.
“How can I help y’all?” you asked.
“My car’s fucked, and some weird guy on the highway said this was the only body shop around,” the guy said.
“I’m going inside. It’s way too hot out here,” the girl said, heading inside the shop.
“Sure, let me get Bo. He’s on lunch, but he’d be glad to help,” you said, almost shocked at how easily the lie came out of your mouth.
The guy nodded. “Yeah, whatever.”
Bo spent most of the late morning in the movie theater, claiming something needed to be fixed there. It wasn’t a far walk, but between the heat and their attitudes, you figured the couple weren’t the type who liked being kept waiting. Still, you didn’t run, it was too hot out for that kind of effort on your part.
As soon as you stepped into the derelict movie theater, you were met with a stifling humidity and the scent of rot. You hated that you knew what that smelled like now.
The air conditioning, that’s what Bo had been busy fixing. In all honesty, it amazed you that the wax museum was even standing with how hot it got in Ambrose. Every few days, Vincent would have to make the rounds and check on the wax sculptures, touching up any heat-related imperfections, though you knew most of the buildings had air conditioning blasting to preserve his work. The movie theater had without a doubt the most sculptures besides the museum, so keeping it cool was imperative.
You called out for Bo, wandering around the movie theater until you heard him respond from a utility closet. Finding him in this spot, you couldn’t help but admire the way his white t-shirt clung to his sweat-covered body. Thankfully, he didn’t notice your ogling.
“What? You couldn’t even bring me a fuckin’ drink? Jesus,” Bo said.
“There’s two—um—we have customers.”
He grinned, grabbing the mechanic’s shirt that was bunched up on the floor. “‘Bout damn time.”
After using the shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, he pulled it on, buttoning it up as the two of you left the movie theater and walked back to the gas station. Although no one could possibly eavesdrop, you spoke in a hushed tone as you relayed the basic information that you had on the couple. Lester directed them to Ambrose, their car was busted, and they were incredibly cranky.
You were worried that it wasn’t enough information for him, but he seemed more than pleased with what you already knew. It made sense, he was used to handling this side of things on his own. Again, you cemented your accomplice status.
The couple rushed outside as soon as they saw you and Bo a few yards away, making your way up the street. They were in one hell of a hurry for nothing.
“Sorry ‘bout the wait,” Bo said. “This your car?”
The guy nearly rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”
Bo chuckled, though you knew him well enough that it betrayed his disdain for the guy already. “Right. How ‘bout you gimme the keys, and I’ll bring it into the garage and take a look at it.”
“Good luck,” the guy said, handing Bo his keys. “I barely got it into town in the first place.”
“Might as well give it a try. Y/N, you mind helpin’ me for a minute?” Bo asked.
“Not at all. You two make yourselves comfortable inside,” you said.
They hardly waited for you to finish talking before making a beeline to return to the air conditioned store. Bo shot a glare at their backs, shaking his head as he got into the guy’s car. As he revved the engine, it made a noise that had Bo smirking a bit.
“Damn, this car’s shot to hell, and I didn’t even do it this time.”
It took him a minute or two to get it a few feet into the garage, and you didn’t have to be an expert to know that getting that car safe enough to drive would probably take a few days. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be driving it again anyway.
Bo got out of the car, throwing the keys on a nearby tool cart. “You’re gettin’ one of those assholes. I don’t care which one, but today’s the day, darlin’.”
“I—the girl, I guess.”
He grabbed your shoulders, looking at you with an intensity that made you nearly wither to dust in his hold. “No guessin’. You killin’ her or not?”
You nodded. “I will. I’ll kill her.”
“Good. There’s a gun under the counter, should be easy enough to take ‘er out.”
“Okay, okay,” you said.
“Get on back there, then,” he said, giving you a quick kiss.
When you walked back into the shop, the girl had already helped herself to one of the sodas, another unopened one sitting on the counter. They were mumbling between themselves, glancing at the garage until they noticed you were back.
“Can you hurry up? I’m gonna need one of those cans of oil. The one behind the register,” the guy asked as you went behind the counter.
“What do you expect, babe?” the girl muttered. “They probably can’t even read.”
He snickered in response. She hadn’t meant to say it loud enough for you to hear, but you did, loud and clear. Derogatory, meant to bolster their fractured superiority at their helplessness, having to turn to the likes of swampland hicks for help. You supposed that included yourself now, living in unprecedented isolation with the Sinclairs.
That was a decision you’d made yourself a few weeks—or was it months—earlier in the kitchen of the Sinclair house. You caused a scene, but you got your point across. You chose this life instead of death. You chose Bo. It was one thing when your own life was in your own hands, but the lives of others was a much heavier burden. You loved Bo. You knew you did. Sometimes love meant compromising, though it surely was never supposed to go so far. Then again, no one had ever been in a relationship quite like yours before, you were sure of that much.
You gasped as your hand brushed the gun Bo kept beneath the counter. The guy looked at you, rolling his eyes before turning around, leaning against the counter and staring at the sleepy main street out the shop windows. It’d be so easy, just pick up the gun and put a bullet right through the back of his head, then get his girlfriend while she was still in shock.
Shaking your head, you grabbed the plastic container next to you, setting it on the counter. They were rude and awful, but that didn’t mean they deserved to die. You were sure there were plenty of times you’d been rude before, short with someone on the receiving end of your bad day. It didn’t mean you deserved what had happened to you.
Their deaths were inevitable, though. That was certain in Ambrose, but you’d stand your ground. If they were going to die, you wouldn’t be the one to do it. Maybe that made you just as bad, but your hands would be clean. You rung up the oil and two sodas on the beat-up cash register, and the guy turned around to grab the container and leave a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, mumbling for you to keep the change.
The couple headed outside to see how progress was going on their car. Bo really was one hell of a mechanic, and as much as he knew how to fix a car, he also knew just how to fuck around with one to make it undrivable. In this case, he wouldn’t have to do too much extra work.
You sat down on a crate behind the counter, displeased to find that your soda was room temperature and flat. Sighing, you closed your eyes for a few moments, ignoring the heat-induced headache that you could feel creeping up on you.
The shop door slamming open, bell clinging rapidly, pulled you from your rest. Was it only a few minutes, or had you fallen asleep? The girl stood in the doorway, panicked and wild-eyed.
“Hey! Holy shit!”
You stood up, furrowing your eyebrows at the way she rushed toward the counter.
“You have to call the police! That guy out there–your coworker went insane!” the girl shouted. “Fucking do something!”
She pushed you out of the way, grabbing for the phone on the wall behind you, only to hear a dead dial tone on the other end of the line. “What the fuck? What the–”
The bell for the front door of the shop chimed again, and the two of you saw Bo taking up most of the space in the doorframe, sweat dripping down his face, blood splattered across his hands. The screwdriver he was holding was covered in blood too. His eyes were set on the girl as he took a step into the shop.
“We have to go!” the girl screamed, grabbing you by the sleeve and pulling you after her.
She ran into the garage, an anguished scream tearing from her throat at the sight of her dead boyfriend. When it became clear you weren’t in as much of a rush as her, she started running, leaving you behind. You couldn’t blame her, that’s what you would’ve done too.
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Bo growled, seeing the girl run off while you stood around, shocked and useless.
He shot a glare your way as he raced after her. Maybe she’d get the upper hand somehow and do what you and everyone else who came before weren’t able to. The thought made you tense up. Would she know you were part of this? Would she come after you next? You weren’t sure what you wanted to happen, but as you caught a glimpse of the fresh body of the girl’s dearly deceased boytoy, you decided to head back into the shop for the time being.
You spent the next half hour cleaning the blood off the gas station shop floor, the bleach you poured burning your throat as you mopped up what had come from Bo when he stormed through. Your efforts were premature, because almost as soon as the old floor looked as spotless as you could make it, the shop bell rang again.
Bo had caught up with the girl, though from the scratches on his face, it wasn’t without a fight. More than you could say. She, however, was worse for wear, her nose bleeding, probably broken, and she had a pronounced limp as she stumbled into the shop, black tears streaking down her face. Grit and dirt were inseparably mixed with the blood that ran from her knee down to her ankle, skin red and raw.
Bo pushed her onto the ground, and she screamed as her open wound made contact with the freshly bleached floor. Bile rose in your throat as you looked at her, trying to ignore Bo reaching for the screwdriver he’d kept in his pocket. You couldn’t do it. She could’ve been you or any of your friends. Nevertheless, he shoved the tool in your hand.
He held the girl by the hair, close enough so her throat was pressed against the end of the screwdriver. “Do it.”
“Please don’t. No, no, no, no, I don’t wanna die,” she sobbed. “Fuck, shit, I don’t wanna die.”
You didn’t even know her name and you were supposed to kill her. Would that have made it easier? Or harder? Your hesitation didn’t go over well with Bo, as he let out a frustrated growl and grabbed your hand, driving the screwdriver through the girl’s neck. His hand wrapped around yours in a death grip, making you unable to let go of the screwdriver or pull it from her flesh until he thought it was enough.
To add insult to injury, he twisted the screwdriver, and you gagged at the girl’s gurgled agony as blood poured from her mouth. Her hands weakly reached for the screwdriver in vain, because Bo twisted it again, grinning at the pained expression on her face. Panic finally caught up with you as you considered if this was how your friends died–messy, cruel, and torturous at his hands.
When he pulled the screwdriver from her throat, releasing your hand with it, you almost felt relieved that it was over. By the furious expression on his face, however, you were still in for it. He grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, backing you into the wall and holding the bloody screwdriver against your throat.
“I oughta kill you too,” he hissed. “When I tell you to do somethin’, you fuckin’ do it.”
“Bo, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I couldn’t–”
Before you could try to explain yourself, he roughly grabbed your arm, his short, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he walked toward the basement door. He dropped the screwdriver on the floor as he used both hands to get a better hold of you. Your shoes squeaked against the linoleum shop floor as you tried to dig your heels in and prevent him from moving you any closer.
“No!” you screeched, feeling the strain in your throat as you struggled against him. “Don’t bring me back there! I don’t wanna go back there!”
“‘S where you belong. Vinny was right, gettin’ you into this was a mistake.”
“I swear to god I’ll do it next time! Please don’t–”
You wailed as he landed a harsh slap across your face, his ring breaking the tender skin of your cheek. In this moment of weakness, he was able to overtake you, pulling you back into the hell you’d worked so hard to escape from less than a year before.
The animalistic holler you let out in protest was met only by echoes from the concrete. Your fallen comrades plastered on the walls shared your distress as your eyes darted across each of them. You knew as soon as you ended up in such a place that you’d end up one of them. You had your chance, and you blew it. Soon, you too would be memorialized as yet another brutalized girl whose Polaroid graced the walls of the goddamn dungeon.
Bo sneered as he strapped your limbs to the surgical bed that you still had nightmares about. You probably would have thought it was a dream if your face wasn’t stinging from the impact just moments earlier. Nothing that was coming from your mouth was coherent. Nothing you could say would make him have pity or mercy on you. He wasn’t capable of that.
Deja vu swirled through your mind as he cut off your clothes, and you braced yourself for the feeling of his knife on your skin, until it didn’t come.
He clicked his tongue as he looked at you, sobbing and bleeding. “There ain’t gonna be a next time.”
He smacked you again for good measure, and then left to take care of the bodies in the shop. You didn’t see him again for three days. Nothing had changed since you were last down there, he hadn’t even bothered to clean the place out, as if he were keeping it for insurance if things didn’t work out with you.
There was no point in screaming for help, no one who heard you would help anyway. This was between you and Bo. You wondered if he was leaving you there to die, knowing dehydration would catch up with you, and he’d find your disgusting, rotting corpse by the Fourth of July.
Your mouth was dry, and your whole head was pounding from the lack of water and the heat that somehow made its way all the way down to the basement. You couldn’t even cry, you were so dehydrated–there were no tears, just your pathetic wailing and whimpering until you couldn’t even manage that.
When he finally came down to check on you, cigarette hanging from his lips and a cold bottle of water in his hand, you could’ve sworn you were hallucinating. He grinned upon seeing you, and for a moment, your heart fluttered, or maybe you were just dying. Regardless, you were glad to see him, even if he had done this to you.
“Fuck, seein’ you back here is somethin’ else,” he growled lowly, setting the water bottle tauntingly close to you and adjusting his crotch. “How’s your vacation been?”
You balked at his statement. Vacation?
“What? You ain’t been doin’ shit the past few days, just lyin’ around here. Seems like you don’t appreciate it, though,” he said.
You shook your head frantically, unable to speak. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, tapping the ashes onto your bound leg. Your muscles flinched, and you hissed in pain.
Though you knew what was coming next, you still couldn’t mentally prepare yourself for the way he took a long drag from the cigarette before putting it out on your leg, holding it for at least ten painful seconds as a harsh cry came from your parched windpipe. Between the pain from your leg and your throat, you felt like you were being torn in half. He snickered as he pulled it away, his other hand brushing the freshly burnt skin as you screamed again.
“Why don’t I make it better for ya, darlin’?” he asked, conniving condescension in his voice as he picked up the unopened water bottle, twisting the cap open, and pouring half of it onto your leg.
Fuck, you should’ve killed the girl you had the chance. The first water you’d seen in days and half of it was running down your fucking leg.
“Stop,” you croaked.
He grinned, holding up the water bottle. “Where’s your manners, darlin’?”
“Please.”
Once again, he set the water bottle down, but this time he unstrapped your arms and legs from the surgical bed. You knew better than to assume you’d get out of it with mild dehydration and a cigarette burn. Your legs gave out beneath you, and you fell to the floor. He looked more than pleased with this. It’s where he wanted you anyway.
He grabbed the water bottle, and you opened your mouth, expecting the extent of your humiliation before him to be his pouring the water into your mouth so you’d choke on it or something. Instead, he poured the water on the floor directly in front of you, and you looked at him in horrified disbelief.
“Well? I thought you were thirsty,” he said, stepping in the puddle of water before you.
You let out a whimper before lowering your head, hesitating for a moment. With a shaky breath, you stuck out your tongue, and as soon as it touched the water, you lost control. What little dignity you had left in your brain screamed at you to stop, that you were better than this and you’d probably get tetanus or jaundice, or some kind of -ice or -itis that would fuck up your intestines royally.
The rest of your body, that was parched and desperate overtook your reasoning, and you lapped up the dirty water at his feet like–well, your life did depend on it. The water was disgusting, and you gagged a few times while licking it up, the taste of dirt and copper and god knows what else mingling in your mouth. Then, when the floor was as dry as it could get, and all of the water was gone, you looked up to see his cock in his hand, a sadistic grin on his face as he jerked himself off over you.
“Fuck, you’re the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he grunted in perverse adoration.
You moved to take over, assuming that was what he wanted you to do next until he pushed you onto your ass with his free hand. It felt like you were watching him for eternity before he came with a loud groan, throwing his head back as his cum pumped from his cock and onto the floor. When he was finished, he looked over at you with hooded lids and a lazy, shit-eating grin.
“Get a move on, darlin’. I wanna see you lick it up like a little bitch again.”
Though you had a bit more resolve this time around, your lip trembling as you stuck your tongue out, almost recoiling when you tasted his cum on the floor. Apparently, you weren’t licking it up enthusiastically enough for his liking, because you felt his boot on the back of your head, pushing your face into the floor.
With tears in your eyes, you lapped up his cum like you did the water just moments before, and a pleased groan came from above you. You actually heard his pants zipper this time, trying to focus on anything but the overwhelming nausea and rancid mix of semen and whatever else was on the floor. Somehow, you managed to lick it all up, not without losing a solid amount of respect for yourself first.
Suddenly, you started gagging, feeling the sour mix of floor water and cum making its way back up your esophagus.
He covered your mouth with his hand. “Keep it down, darlin’, or I’ll make you lick that up too.”
Your muffled whine was all the affirmation he needed, and you somehow willed yourself not to throw up.
“Next time you think for a second you can get away with not doin’ what I say, I want you to remember this,” he hissed in your ear.
You nodded, bleary eyed as he helped you up from the floor, practically having to drag you up the stairs. He drove you back up to the house, and the next week or so consisted of you slowly regaining your strength and attempting to get back in his good graces, if you could even call it that. Despite everything, you wanted his attention, his approval. After all, he let you live despite your massive fuck up. He was all you had. Against every rational bone in your body, you still loved him.
The town was quiet again, until the weekend before the Fourth of July, when it wasn’t. You were in the gas station, this time with Bo nearby in the garage when another couple walked into the shop. They were smiling and holding hands. You almost wondered if they were in the right place. As they walked up to the counter, you greeted them as pleasantly as you could.
“Your face–oh honey, you alright?” the woman asked, genuine concern laced in her voice that made you want to cry. The cut on your cheek where Bo had hit you wasn’t fully healed, and despite your care, it would undoubtedly scar over.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said. “I took a walk during my lunch break the other day and tripped on the gravel road up the way.”
“Well, we’d appreciate some help. Got some car trouble up the road. We were gonna walk, but this nice fella gave us a ride,” the guy said.
“Sure, my husband Bo’s the mechanic. I’ll go get him,” you said, leaving for the nearby garage to let Bo know about the customers.
Why did these ones have to be nice?
“Husband and wife, Lester dropped them off because their car broke down on the side of the road but they’re not sure what’s wrong with it,” you explained quietly.
“You fuck this up,” he threatened through gritted teeth, “and I swear to god, I’ll make sure Vincent keeps ya alive when you join your little friends.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. She better be dead by the time I get back with his body.”
“She will be.”
You and Bo walked back into the shop, his arm around your waist as the two of you sauntered back into the storefront.
“Sorry ‘bout the wait. My wife tells me y’all’s car broke down?”
“Yeah, the man who dropped us off said you could tow it back here? We’re real sorry for the trouble, but if you could–”
Bo smiled. “No trouble at all. You wouldn’t mind comin’ with me to pick it up? Don’t wanna drag the wrong guy’s car all the way back here.”
“‘Course, is there a motel nearby we can stay in if the repairs take a few days?” the guy asked.
“Yeah, I can show you on the way back, and then Y/N can give y’all a lift there once I get the car in the garage.”
“Thank you so much,” the woman said. “You two are really sweet.”
“We’re just glad to help,” you said.
Bo grabbed the tow truck keys from one of the hooks on the wall, before pulling you in for a kiss. You wished he didn’t kiss you so sweetly only because there were other people around. Hell, you almost considered escalating it, the couple wouldn’t live to tell anyone anyway.
“We’ll be back quick, darlin’,” Bo murmured against your lips. “You girls stay out of trouble.”
The woman laughed, shaking her head as her own husband gave her a kiss before walking out of the shop with Bo.
“So, how long have you and your wife been together?” you could hear the guy ask Bo.
You wanted to keep interactions with the woman as minimal as possible, but she was frustratingly sweet, insisting on helping you with the bullshit task you’d made up to try to keep your distance from her. She reminded you of your own friends, in a way, or maybe someone being genuinely nice to you for the first time in nearly a year made you overly sentimental.
“That’s wonderful you get to work with your husband. I’m sure y’all are either really close or ya can’t stand each other,” she said.
“Something like that.”
“I hope Billy and me get to do somethin’ like this one day, maybe with a few kids runnin’ around,” she said wistfully. “I’m probably gettin’ ahead ‘a myself.”
You gave her a terse smile. Poor Billy won’t be doing shit. Glancing at the clock, about twenty minutes had passed. If Bo and Billy–of course Deanna had given you their fucking names–weren’t at the car by now, they were going to be close. Your window of opportunity was shrinking with each passing second.
“You’ve really been so helpful, Deanna. Are you sure you don’t wanna wait?” you asked.
“Lord no. Ain’t many people like you and your husband around nowadays,” she smiled. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Alright, well, I gotta get something from up front really quick.”
She nodded absentmindedly as she looked through the box of fan belts you were restocking.
The shop felt unsettlingly cold for the season as you rounded the counter, grabbing for the gun that was kept underneath it. Your breath hitched when you came up empty. He moved it, probably on purpose so your first kill would have to be more bloody, more personal. You’d lost the privilege of a clean, easy kill.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you considered your options. The screwdriver was definitely out, and you couldn’t head back into the garage and dig through Bo’s tools without her seeing you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked frantically around the shop until you noticed a letter opener laying next to the cash register.
You walked to the back of the store, Deanna still facing away from you. The letter opener would hurt like hell. It wasn’t even that sharp to begin with, and you’d have to really work to make sure she was dead. Taking a deep breath, you plunged it into her shoulder blade and then back out.
“Lady, what the fuck is your problem?” she shouted, reaching for her shoulder and gasping in pain.
You froze. You fucked up, and Bo was gonna be back soon. Both you and Deanna had the same idea, because as soon as she ran, you sped after her. Though you were still weak from your days in the basement, she wasn’t very athletic herself. She tried several shop doors, distressed to find them locked, until she made a break for the church. You followed close behind. There was no person, no deity in that church who could save her.
By the time you got inside the church, she’d already realized that the congregation, the priest, everyone was fake. The confusion on her face shifted to panic as soon as she saw you.
“Get the fuck away from me you psycho bitch!” she yelled, throwing hymnals at you as you approached with your sad little letter opener.
In your desperation, you tackled her, but the letter opener slipped out of your hands. The two of you punched and clawed at each other, until she rolled over, and you shoved your finger in the wound in her shoulder blade. Her screams fell on deaf ears as once again you looked frantically for something nearby that you could use as a weapon. Your gaze landed on the rosary beads clutched between Trudy’s wax-preserved hands, and you dug your finger deeper into Deanna’s shoulder blade as you maneuvered the rosary beads out from the casket.
Rosary beads in hand, you pulled your finger from the now gaping wound in Deanna’s shoulder blade and pulled the rosary around her neck, the individual glass beads digging into her skin as you pulled tighter and tighter, your own hands getting cut up with the force you were using to strangle her. It seemed like it was a never-ending struggle until finally, she went limp beneath you, and you pulled the rosary away, small cuts in her neck beading and dripping down her throat.
You put your fingers to her pulse and waited. Nothing. You did it. Throwing the rosary beads back into the casket, you didn’t look forward to telling Vincent which statute needed repairs now. That was nothing, though. You could deal with his moping for a few days. Besides, you got one, a brand new addition to the growing town.
Grabbing Deanna’s limp body, you began the ordeal of dragging it back to the gas station so Bo could see your handiwork for himself. You only got about halfway back before the tow truck pulled up, Billy and Deanna’s car hitched to the back. As soon as Bo stopped the truck, Billy hunched over. He was definitely dead.
Bo got out of the truck, rushing over to you. He looked at Deanna’s body, and then to you.
“What’d you use?” he asked, taking your cut up hands in his, inspecting the wounds, your own stigmata.
“Strangled her with your mom’s rosary beads,” you answered quietly. “Sorry.”
He grinned. “You did good, darlin’.”
All of the tension in your body released at those words, and you smiled, throwing your arms around him and kissing him deeply, giggles emitting from your chest every few seconds. Maybe it was the adrenaline still rushing through you, or maybe Bo had been right all along. You felt…great.
#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x female reader#bo sinclair#house of wax#slasher x reader#slasher fandom#slasher community#house of wax 2005#bo sinclair x you
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A manbo (also written as mambo) is a priestess (as opposed to a oungan, a male priest) in the Haitian Vodou religion. Haitian Vodou's conceptions of priesthood stem from the religious traditions of enslaved people from Dahomey, in what is today Benin. For instance, the term manbo derives from the Fon word nanbo ("mother of magic"). Like their West African counterparts, Haitian manbos are female leaders in Vodou temples who perform healing work and guide others during complex rituals.
This form of female leadership is prevalent in urban centers such as Port-au-Prince (the capital of Haiti). Typically, there is no hierarchy among manbos and oungans. These priestesses and priests serve as the heads of autonomous religious groups and exert their authority over the devotees or spiritual servants in their hounfo (temples).
Manbos and oungans are called into power via spirit possession or the revelations in a dream. They become qualified after completing several initiation rituals and technical training exercises where they learn the Vodou spirits by their names, attributes, and symbols.
The first step in initiation is lave tèt (head washing), which is aimed at the spirits housed in an individual's head. The second step is known as kouche (to lie down), which is when the initiate enters a period of seclusion. Typically, the final step is the possession of the ason (sacred rattle), which enables the manbos or oungans to begin their work. One of the main goals of Vodou initiation ceremonies is to strengthen the manbo's konesans (knowledge), which determines priestly power.
The specific skills and knowledge gained by manbos enable them to mediate between the physical and spiritual realms. They use this information to call upon the spirits through song, dance, prayer, offerings, and/or the drawing of vèvès (spiritual symbols). During these rituals, manbos may either be possessed by a loa (also spelled lwa, Vodou spirits) themselves, or may oversee the possession of other devotees. Spirit possession plays an important role in Vodou because it establishes a connection between human beings and the Vodou deities or spirits. Although loas can "mount" whomever they choose, those outside the Vodou priesthood do not have the skills to communicate directly with the spirits or gods. This is because the human body is merely flesh, which the spirits can borrow to reveal themselves via possession. manbos, however, can speak to and hear from the Vodou spirits. As a result, they can interpret the advice or warnings sent by a spirit to specific individuals or communities.
Cécile Fatiman is a Haitian manbo famously known for sacrificing a black pig in the August 1791 Vodou ceremony at Bois Caïman—an act that is said to have ignited the Haitian Revolution. There are also notable manbos within the United States. Marie Laveau (1801-1888), for example, gained fame in New Orleans, Louisiana, for her personal charm and Louisiana Voodoo practices.
Renowned as Louisiana's "voodoo queen", Laveau's legacy is kept alive in American popular culture (e.g., the television series America Horror Story: Coven).ne Mama Lola is another prominent manbo and Vodou spiritual leader in the United States. She rose to fame after the publication of Karen McCarthy Brown's ethnographic account Mama Lola: A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn. Mama Lola's success provided her with a platform to challenge Western misconceptions of Haitian Vodou and make television appearances
#kemetic dreams#vodun#cecile fatiman#manbo#bois caiman#manbos#haitian#marie laveau#new orleans#new orleans voodoo#mama lola#vodou#lwa#oungan#nando#fan#west african#west african vodun#mother of magic#joey bada$$#brooklyn
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Willis Winn, who told photographer Russell Lee that he was 116 years old when the photograph was taken in 1939, is pictured holding a horn with which plantation owners called slaves to work. Winn said his master told him that his birthday was March 10, 1822
When interviewed by Lee, Willis was living alone in a one-room log house in the rear of the Howard Vestal home on the Powder Mill Road, north of Marshall, and was supported by an $11.00 per month old-age pension. He recalled; “Massa Bob’s house faced the quarters where he could hear us holler when he blowed the big horn for us to git up. All the houses were made of logs and we slept on shuck and grass mattresses what was allus full of chinches. I still sleep on a grass mattress, ’cause I can’t rest on cotton and feather beds.”
Willis’ interview in 1939 showed how little things had changed for many people in the United States decades on from the abolition of slavery.
“They is plenty niggers in Louisiana that is still slaves. A spell back I made a trip to where I was raised, to see my old missy ‘fore she died, and there was niggers in twelve or fourteen miles of that place that they didn’t know they is free. They is plenty niggers round here what is same as slaves, and has worked for white folks twenty and twenty-five years and ain’t drawed a five cent piece, jus’ old clothes and somethin’ to eat. That’s the way we was in slavery.”
The fact that white men did not free slaves after the Emancipation Proclamation is unconscionable.
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What Boeing did to all the guys who remember how to build a plane
by Maureen Tkacik
March 28, 2024
https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-03-28-suicide-mission-boeing/
John Barnett had one of those bosses who seemed to spend most of his waking hours scheming to inflict humiliation upon him. He mocked him in weekly meetings whenever he dared contribute a thought, assigned a fellow manager to spy on him and spread rumors that he did not play nicely with others, and disciplined him for things like “using email to communicate” and pushing for flaws he found on planes to be fixed.
“John is very knowledgeable almost to a fault, as it gets in the way at times when issues arise,” the boss wrote in one of his withering performance reviews, downgrading Barnett’s rating from a 40 all the way to a 15 in an assessment that cast the 26-year quality manager, who was known as “Swampy” for his easy Louisiana drawl, as an anal-retentive prick whose pedantry was antagonizing his colleagues. The truth, by contrast, was self-evident to anyone who spent five minutes in his presence: John Barnett, who raced cars in his spare time and seemed “high on life” according to one former colleague, was a “great, fun boss that loved Boeing and was willing to share his knowledge with everyone,” as one of his former quality technicians would later recall.
More from Maureen Tkacik
But Swampy was mired in an institution that was in a perpetual state of unlearning all the lessons it had absorbed over a 90-year ascent to the pinnacle of global manufacturing. Like most neoliberal institutions, Boeing had come under the spell of a seductive new theory of “knowledge” that essentially reduced the whole concept to a combination of intellectual property, trade secrets, and data, discarding “thought” and “understanding” and “complex reasoning” possessed by a skilled and experienced workforce as essentially not worth the increased health care costs. CEO Jim McNerney, who joined Boeing in 2005, had last helmed 3M, where management as he saw it had “overvalued experience and undervalued leadership” before he purged the veterans into early retirement.
“Prince Jim”—as some long-timers used to call him—repeatedly invoked a slur for longtime engineers and skilled machinists in the obligatory vanity “leadership” book he co-wrote. Those who cared too much about the integrity of the planes and not enough about the stock price were “phenomenally talented assholes,” and he encouraged his deputies to ostracize them into leaving the company. He initially refused to let nearly any of these talented assholes work on the 787 Dreamliner, instead outsourcing the vast majority of the development and engineering design of the brand-new, revolutionary wide-body jet to suppliers, many of which lacked engineering departments. The plan would save money while busting unions, a win-win, he promised investors. Instead, McNerney’s plan burned some $50 billion in excess of its budget and went three and a half years behind schedule.
Swampy belonged to one of the cleanup crews that Boeing detailed to McNerney’s disaster area. The supplier to which Boeing had outsourced part of the 787 fuselage had in turn outsourced the design to an Israeli firm that had botched the job, leaving the supplier strapped for cash in the midst of a global credit crunch. Boeing would have to bail out—and buy out—the private equity firm that controlled the supplier. In 2009, Boeing began recruiting managers from Washington state to move east to the supplier’s non-union plant in Charleston, South Carolina, to train the workforce to properly put together a plane.
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Okay Clove. I've seen a lot of little snippets from Blind Trust and I rock with your writing style a ton. But what's the book actually about?? Something with magic in a contemporary setting ? Hot dogs are somehow involved ??
Geets, it's me, the person who never learned how to properly pitch their own writing! I'll give it a shot anyway. I have a pinned post on my blog that has the fancy synopsis I'll probably put on the back of the book, but I'm fresh from a nap and on my phone and Feeling Frisky so I'll try and take it a different way.
What is Blind Trust about?
Blind Trust is book one of the Songbird Elegies, and it takes place in a contemporary world where magic exists but isn't great. It's not bad in a cool, The Witcher sort of way. Most people only know about magic through The Academy, where anyone can enlist and learn how to tap into the source of magic itself. Which sounds cool until you consider the physical strain of even a minor spell, the fact that major spells can take massive amounts for studying and practice and still aren't that powerful, and how carrying a wand on your person at all times is not easy to do without looking and feeling like a dipshit. Essentially, the average Academic Witch is like an arrogant MFA student or so someone really into craft beer.
But then there is a certain, little-studied medical anomaly that creates birthrights, which are individuals born already tapped into the source of magic by design. They each have a single ability that they can do without a wand (or wand-shaped proxy), but it's nothing innately combative and is mainly used to help interact with society at large. This is because the Birthright Gene is seen exclusively in individuals who are either born with a severe hereditary, genetic, or developmental disability, or will develop one over the course of their life but I'm not supposed to talk about that yet.
Birthrights are often found in a few scattered witch towns, where they use their abilities to focus on social work and community outreach. People also call them genetic witches, but you'd be hard-pressed to get a birthright to call themselves a witch at all. They don't value magic at all in the same way Academics do, and primarily see their "gift" as a chronic illness to manage and accommodate for.
Birthrights and Academics have varying relationships depending on where you are and who you ask but I can't really get into that because in Blind Trust no one knows anything so you don't get to either.
Well, that's not true. There's a mutual understanding of the concept of soul bonds, which are lifelong connections formed between individuals born in the source of magic - though how much people actually retained about this varies. A soul bond is not unlike a karass in Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle, in that the people involved are cosmically entangled with each other in a very profound way.
They might be born to be companions, family, enemies, or lovers. The last possibility, called a Lover's Knot, is the rarest and is reserved as a way to contain birthrights who would otherwise be capable of reality-shattering degrees of power. Which nobody wants. Especially not a birthright.
Meet Edgar Gallows and Scott Skylark Kaufner. Scott is a birthright from a witch town and Edgar was born into an Academy in Louisiana, despite also being birthright.
At the start of Blind Trust Edgar has escaped his Academy for the time being and has established a ramshackle and pretty lonely life for himself in New Orleans. He never wants to touch a wand for the rest of his life, and his only hope is to be boring and safe and left alone forever.
Meanwhile, Scott has been having a real rough time. He's been wandering the country nonstop for years with an unfathomable cosmic horror feeding on his sanity and gradually eroding reality around him. Birthrights don't use their abilities often, but for some reason Scott can't turn his off, and they've been warped to the degree where he's been forced to manipulate everyone around him. He can't stop, though. The only thing that can make this stop is if he finds the other half of his Lover's Knot, who he now only remembers as a ghostly vision named Eddie.
Scott and Edgar meet in a dirty walk-in of a mid-tier, overpriced bar and restaurant. Stuff changes and continues to change. Magic is involved but it's not really about the magic.
It's asexual and romantic and soft and confused and frightening and frightened and tender and in book two Edgar eats a hot dog for four pages. It's a great book about love and devotion that's sensual but not at all sexual, because the Clove Gardener Pledge is that there is no sex depicted at any point in the series. It's a great series if you're coping with parental neglect and trauma and want to read a depiction of self-love through an unconventional romantic pairing.
Blind Trust. Buy it in June in paperback or ebook, or just ask me for it and I'll probably give it to you.
#writeblr#writing community#writers on tumblr#on writing#authors of tumblr#writing#queer writers#actually writing#blind trust#songbird elegies#aspec#asexual#asexuality#asexual positivity#asexual relationship#self published#indie author#magic system#urban fantasy
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Wincest Unhinged #4 Bobby hadnt told Dean how bad Sam really was after the hounds. He doesn't tell Dean Sam stayed awake for 4 days straight meticulously stitching Deans torn flesh back together, doesn't mention that he talked Sam out of going to the neighbors and asking for donations.
Thank God he asked Sam what kind of donations he was looking for, because Sam looked at him, eyes dark, cold, and so very empty that Bobby wondered if he was possessed, and said with an eerie calmness; "His organs are shredded, he needs new ones."
Bobby drugged Sam's food that night, convincing him that Dean would be upset if Sam didn't take care of himself.
Sam ate a peanut butter sandwich with one hand, and looked through one of the books he had dug up with the other, and eventually, passed out.
Bobby knew Sam was going to be pissed, and Sam could hate him for the rest of his life, but he was doing what was best. While Sam slept, Bobby prepared the funeral pyre, the salt, everything. He had to be very careful to move Dean's body, Sam had been sleeping with it, curled protectively around his brother's decomposing shell. Bobby had to hold his breath to keep from gagging.
He hoped he had given Sam enough medication to keep him asleep. He hadn't.
The moment Bobby tried to move Sam's hand away from Deans shoulder, he found himself fighting back the instinct to yell when he saw Deans skin slip off his body like a piece of dried leather and fall to the bed. He felt something press against his head, and heard the click of a gun.
"Fuck are you doing?" Sam asked as if he was inquiring about the forecast.
Bobby raised his hands in surrender; "Son, you gotta let him go, come on, you know Dean w-"
Sam pulled the trigger. Bobby felt his heart drop, unsure if the gun was empty, or if by dumb luck, had jammed.
"Dont tell me what Dean would want, he would want to be here, and no one is taking him from me."
Bobby gave a small nod; "Okay, Sam. I'm…I'm just gonna go hit the books again, okay?"
"That's fine. Let me know if you find anything."
Sam came downstairs an hour later when Bobby called for him, telling him about a Shaman in Louisiana. Sam listened intently, taking notes.
"I'm going to take your truck." Sam told him. "I cant have Dean sitting in the backseat, too many people might see him."
No way in hell this Shaman thing was going to work, he was sending Sam on a wild goose chase and he knew it, but there was no way Bobby was going to let Sam put Dean's body in a cooler and haul it across the country.
"How about we bury his body?" Bobby suggested, and was pretty sure Sam was going to make sure the gun worked properly this time based on the look he gave.
"I can make a casket with a spell that will keep his body safe." He lied. "We just gotta get dirt from the location where he died, we can put him somewhere private where I can put up warding, then you can come back for the Impala.
Sam thought for a moment, fingers fidgeting with Deans amulet, glancing upstairs where Dean was, and then to Bobbys relief, nodded. "I'll go pack. we'll head out in the morning."
At sunrise Sam carried Dean out to the truck and gently placed Deans body in the casket Bobby had prepared, the wood littered with carved runes and different languages. Bobby pretended not to see Sam lean down and kiss his brother's lips ignoring the orange fluid leaking from his mouth, before promising; "I'm gonna come back for you."
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Texas: I don’t mind homosexuality, as long as it’s my own homosexuality
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California: I feel like Steve Jobs is judging me from his grave
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Florida: how do you spell difference?
New York: What 👏 a 👏 genius 👏
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Ohio: I'm a skater
Indiana: you smoke weed!?
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Florida: how would they know me 🙄💅
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Florida: let me gaslight an infant; it’s a harmless crime
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South Carolina: I’m an animal in bed
South Carolina: feed me and give me pats
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California: these fries are so fucking good
Utah: HeY! In-N-Out Is A chRIStian company-!!
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Washington and Oregon: *kiss*
Montana: what are you doing
Idaho: we’re playing gay chicken
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*texting*
Florida: *selfie of his forehead*
Florida: Getting ready to go to cort
Gov: you have a beautiful forehead, Florida, but what’s cort?
Louisiana: court*
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Florida: I want to eat the scented candle
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California: *points to sign that says idfb*
California: I DON'T FUCKING BITCH, FLORIDA. I DON'T FUCKING BITCH 🙄
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*texting*
Delaware: PLS
Delaware: SHAKING UR SHOULDERS
Delaware: AGGRESSIVELY
Delaware: TELL ME U GOT THIS
Delaware: PLS
Delaware: BEGGING U
Delaware: ON MY KNEES
Delaware: Fuckkkk
New York: Why does Apple/Samsung not like Delaware😒
Delaware: PLS
Delaware: IM CRYING
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Gov: who’s excited Florida’s not here
Everyone: *raises their hands*
Florida: *walks in* what’s up suckers
California: are you okay, gov? You look sad
Gov: I’ve just hit a new level of depression
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Washington: why isn’t Oregon Kirby? He loves sucking things
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California: tell me who you like, whisper it
Nevada: *whispers*
California: HIM!? WHY HIM!?
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Oregon, stuck in his sweater: help, how do I get out of this!?
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West Virginia: you cannot tell me $2 can’t pay for college
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New York: and then we basically went to y’know what’s it called?
California: bed?
New York: yeah, bed
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Utah: I don’t believe in 69
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Florida: y’know what’s really underrated? Eating dirt
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California: don’t worry, I’ll take her boyfriend so you can have her
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Florida: I'm making robbery aesthetic
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Alaska (on a call with Hawai’i): FLORIDA KEEPS MAKING BIRD SOUNDS DURING MEETINGS
Hawai’i: are they good bird sounds?
Alaska: THE FUCK?
Alaska: THERE ARE NO GOOD BIRD SOUNDS
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Texas: GODLESS HEATHEN!
California: YOU CAN’T CALL ME GODLESS JUST BECAUSE I’M CATHOLIC
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New York: western states don’t exist to me, they’re walking fetuses
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New York: take my hoodie and I take your ability to walk
Florida: oh~
New York: *grabs bat*
Florida: wait-
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Texas: you have no friends!
California: you’ve known Baja for years!
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Kansas: wait… you have farms in California
California: no, the agriculture we produce comes from black magic
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Gov: florida, your mommy said you were cute… she lied
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Nevada: i like your shoes, they're shiny. Taylor swift could steal them and itd be the coolest thing shes ever done
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Gov: california, new york, florida, you’ll be sharing your work in a 3 way
Florida: ooh~
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California: you lose your speaking privileges
Virginia: YOU lose your rights *holds up constitution*
California: *grabs it and starts reading it aloud*
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Oregon: I got stabbed in my past life! No wonder I don’t want to stab people!
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California: Wisdom is a privilege, and we are not privileged people
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Florida, on call: SHOW ME WHAT YOU'RE HUNTING
Alaska: do you have any friends?
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Alaska: am I sexually active—? No, look at me
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California: I have a Tesla for the environment
Texas: you also have a Ferrari
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Florida: *turns on seat heating*
Florida: is my seat hot for some reason
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Florida: no one can catch my cold. It’s special
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Texas: i’m not homophobic! My boyfriends gay
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Arkansas: *singing in the bathroom in the middle of the night*
Tennessee: *opens door* you come and sing with me, boy
Red: happened irl
Blue: stole from the internet
Black: made it up
#most of govs quotes are from my teacher#wttt#wttsh#wttt texas#wttsh texas#wttt California#wttsh California#wttt florida#wttsh florida#wttt new york#wttsh new york#wttt indiana#wttsh indiana#wttt ohio#wttsh ohio#wttt south carolina#wttsh South Carolina#wttt utah#wttsh utah#wttt washington#wttsh washington#wttt oregon#wttsh Oregon#wttt montana#wttsh montana#wttt idaho#wttsh Idaho#wttt gov#wttsh gov#wttt louisiana
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Nissa's Pilgrimage Part I: Worldwaker
Preface:
Hi there! My name is Steven; I recently wrapped up a master’s degree in library science and am doing my best to segue careers. Since my terminally long job hunt has left me with more down time than I ever wanted to have, I decided to put my English degree to good(?🤷) use by writing a bunch of personal essays on Magic the Gathering, as it is a topic I have been obsessed with for around a decade now. I didn’t intend to share these ramblings at first, and I began this whole project for my own edification, to keep my brain active, and to prevent myself going insane from boredom. However, I thought it couldn’t hurt to throw these online and see what comes of it.
This particular piece is part 1 of ???. I have a lot of notes in my drafts and even more thoughts in my head, so it may just go on indefinitely until someone (finally) gives me a dang job.
TLDR: I’m a deranged MTG Vorthos and former English major with a lot of thoughts and even more time on my hands, so I began a handful of English major-y essays on my pet topics. I’m posting them here for now.
Introduction:
Almost every Magic player who began learning the game after the planeswalker card type was introduced in the Lorwyn expansion in October, 2007 can tell you a story about the first planeswalker card they fell in love with. It might have been because the mechanics on the card melded perfectly with their preferred strategy of play, it might have been because they kept up with the story and were invested in the represented character’s journey, or it might have simply been because they thought the art looked cool.
For whatever reason under Mirrodin’s five suns a Magic player first became attached to a planeswalker and their cards, the character often become symbolic for our love of the game itself. These symbols grow beyond simple loyalty abilities on a piece of cardboard and become inexorably intertwined with our own personal Magic experience.
For me, this planeswalker was Nissa Revane.
You see, in March of 2014, I started working at The Game Closet in Waco, Texas. I had just finished getting a master’s degree in English, so of course, my first job out in the real world was to become a clerk at my local game store (really putting my humanities education to work). Having grown up in a small Louisiana town, I never had a chance to play Magic. I entered the tabletop gaming world through my obsession with Dungeons & Dragons, Shadowrun, and sundry other RPG’s.
Nevertheless, as Magic players made up the majority of the store’s customer base, I took it upon myself to learn the game. The Theros block was wrapping up at the time with its third set, Journey into Nyx, and a bunch of friendly players were more than happy to unload all of their bulk commons and uncommons to me (Journey into Nyx was famously underpowered, after all), so I tried to make a standard deck out of all this draft chaff and run it at Friday Night Magic.
It didn’t go too well.
However, I was happy with the overall direction of the deck, and I immediately discovered that I loved green decks, specifically green ramp strategies.
I was enthralled with the idea of accelerating mana so that you can play flashy, intimidating creatures and cool, game warping spells far earlier than you have any right to, so I continued to tweak the deck until I made a functioning version of the Theros Standard Mono Green Devotion deck. Even though I wasn’t good enough at the game in my early days to consistently win (even at the local level), I had a lot of fun with it! It was fast and explosive, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was missing something.
However, not a few months later, the Magic 2015 Core Set gets released, and the chase mythic rare in the set’s early days was exactly the kind of card I was looking for: Nissa, Worldwaker. I had no idea who this Nissa character was supposed to be — though I did think the art looked pretty cool — but I was in awe of the card’s abilities! It was precisely the kind of fuel I felt my standard deck needed at the time, and it turns out I was right! My Magic the Gathering “competitive” “career” begins and ends with a handful of first place rankings at my local game store’s standard FNM events, but as small a victory as those are, nearly all of these top rankings were due to Nissa, Worldwaker.
Needless to say, I became devoted to the character overnight.
Exploration:
But who is Nissa, really? Let’s start with the basics. Nissa is an elf planeswalker from the plane of Zendikar, a largely untamed wilderness where the land itself has a will of its own, causing unforeseeable (un)natural disasters called “the roil” by Zendikari locals. According to the recently-released Magic The Gathering: The Visual Guide by Jay Annelli, Nissa is in her 60s and she is 5 feet, 2 inches tall, making her the smallest of the original four members of the Gatewatch (five if you count Liliana). Nissa has a mystical connection to the land and can sense a plane’s leylines, giving her a measure of control over the ground she walks on; this allows her to animate the very land itself to fight her enemies, a narrative element that has been expressed mechanically time and time again on Nissa’s cards throughout the years.
Ostracized from the elven clan she was born in, the Joraga, for the crime of having this connection to the land (a rare brand of sorcery called “animism” in the lore of Magic), Nissa spent large stretches of years alone with only the spirits of the natural world as companions. This has made her socially awkward to a fault, and the issues she has in communicating with her friends (and later, lovers) has been a fairly consistent plot point throughout all of the (canon) story arcs she has played a part in.
In a fictional universe that contains ageless elder dragons, a man-eating toad, a sentient robot who literally created a planet from scratch, and a wizard who once phased an entire continent out of the time stream, Nissa Revane’s eternal struggle to express simple feelings to people she shares a bond with always seemed to me the most human element in the Magic canon. Additionally (big surprise), that’s something I have in common with her. While other Vorthoses have made the argument that Nissa is on the autism spectrum, that is something I have neither the personal experience with nor the education of to speak about. That is certainly a valid lens to view this character through, however, so if that interests you, I’d encourage you to search up these pieces on your own.
What I can speak on with a certain level of expertise, however, is the personal struggle of being a shy, withdrawn introvert in an extroverted world. As a lifelong wallflower with a vivid imagination and a rich inner world, I can deeply relate to a character who doesn’t know how to put her intense feelings to words. For example, in the final story of the Kaladesh arc, Renewal, Nissa tries to express to her companion Chandra just how deeply she wants to be “friends” with her:
Nissa swallowed past the desert in her throat. "I don't speak often. I lived alone for...decades. Zendikar was my companion. We understood each other at a level deeper than words. I...I don't know how to talk to you. I'm trying to learn."
Chandra looked up, eyes wide and startled. "You don't know how to talk to me?"
"I will make mistakes," Nissa said. "Pick the wrong words. Misunderstand yours. I'll act strange and won't know that I am. But if you can be patient with me, I would like to be..." Waves of sky-song memory welled upward, symphonies of color and warmth, resonant movement and shared breath. She stilled them, reduced them, and forced out angular words shaped in a pallid shadow of acceptable truth. "...your friend."
Chandra's hands leapt out to enfold hers, warm as a bird's nest. "I dunno," she sniffled, one corner of her mouth quivering upward. "I think you're pretty good at picking words."
"It took all afternoon to decide how to say this."
While this section of Renewal is a cornerstone of Nissa’s and Chandra’s future romantic relationship, that is a topic big enough to warrant its own essay in order to do it justice. For now, though, let’s focus on this bit: “‘I would like to be…’ Waves of sky-song memory welled upward, symphonies of color and warmth, resonant movement and shared breath. She stilled them, reduced them, and forced out angular words shaped in a pallid shadow of acceptable truth. ‘...your friend.’” Nissa’s never ending struggle to use words grand enough to communicate the intensity of the feelings in her heart has stuck with me since Renewal was posted on Magic’s website in 2017. I doubt I’m the only one, either.
Heroic Intervention
Nissa was already the character I was most invested in back in 2017, but observing her deep well of emotions she didn’t know to express and her entire lifetime's worth of interests and experiences she didn’t know how to talk about helped me, I think, come to terms the previous two-and-a-half decades of my own life that I spent cowering in corners at parties, being as unobtrusive as possible in the lives of my friends and family, and holding myself back because I didn’t think anyone would ever want me around - as a friend, as a lover, or even as a coworker. This section, from later on in Renewal, really gutted me at the time:
What would she do, if she had the time again? If she didn't flinch at light, noise, and touch, or speak in gestures and movements strange and off-putting to others?
How could she tell this new life to laugh and weep without reservation or regret; to sing to the stars and waters, or to nothing at all; to love unreserved and unguarded; to treasure every moment with those beloved; to forgive any regretted trespass; to dance when moved to; to savor long silences in warm company; to greet each dawn, each face with the thought, this will be an adventure; to be brave, and kind, and trusting, and...
...like Chandra.
The aetherborn waited, flickering. But why would anyone find her thoughts on the matter of value, anyway?
Don't be afraid to follow your heart, Nissa told them.
...Why would that be scary?
Halfway across Ghirapur, her body exhaled a laugh into the deepening twilight. May it ever puzzle you.
It wasn’t too long after this story was published that I began my own journey from hiding in the shadows to living my life in a way I was proud of. I moved away with the woman I was dating at the time, and even though that relationship ended up not working out, I spent five long, fun, life-altering years learning to
laugh and weep without reservation or regret; to sing to the stars and waters, or to nothing at all; to love unreserved and unguarded; to treasure every moment with those beloved; to forgive any regretted trespass; to dance when moved to; to savor long silences in warm company; to greet each dawn, each face with the thought, this will be an adventure.
I wonder to this day if the courage Nissa displayed during her own pilgrimage helped nurture in me the courage I needed in my own…
Conclusion
If you made this far, thanks! I’m not sure who, if any, will be interested in these endless ramblings, but if you're here, I hope you found something in it to enjoy!
Further entries in this little series will cover who Nissa is as a character, how she has been treated by various writers in Magic's various seasons, and why that matters (to me at least). The next longform piece I post will go over Nissa’s dual origins, why she was retconned from an incompetent xenophobe into the cinnamon roll with baggage we know today, and what both the Magic Story Team and its fans have made of this shift over the years.
References
Annelli, J. Magic The Gathering The Visual Guide. DK Publishing
Li, M., Digges, K., Luhrs, A., Beyer D., & L'Etoile, C. (2017). Renewal
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could u explain ur ocs and ur uviverse? theyre pretty cool but idek what their names are💗
DW I GOT YOU! I know my posts aren’t very organized so I’ll try to make this sort of an overall guide.
GUIDE TO MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS:
1. You Ate My Heart 🎀
This was an idea for a graphic novel I started in high school. The premise was a bit ridiculous (involved love spells, multiple dimensions and very abstract existential ideas) but I still am very fond of the characters and the themes of friendship, romance and depression, so I might eventually make something with them :)
Characters:
Kitty Chau/Zhou 🐈
She is the protagonist. She’s a Malaysian-Chinese student who immigrates to the USA in order to live up to her own academic expectations. She is honestly kind of a depressed and irrational person, but she also feels a lot of empathy from others. The premise begins because in a lapse of judgement she eats two hearts and ends up casting love spells on two others.
Winghead 🪽
He is one of the most popular guys at Kitty’s school. He is absolutely normal aside from the fact that he has wings on his head and no one knows his real name except for his family. He is well liked for being nice and chill to everyone. He used to date a girl named Inez (shown below) but they broke up at the end of Junior Year, and he still seems torn up about it. He is one of the people Kitty casts a spell on, and because he knows everyone in town, pretty much everyone knows when he starts acting awry.
Veel Abigail Drake 👹
She is a demon princess lol?? Kitty is jealous of her ability to express herself unflinchingly. She has some magical abilities like breathing ice and fire. She comes from another dimension (that is well known in the world, it’s just treated as like another country) and has a belligerent and extreme temper. She has a strong moral code that doesn’t really apply well in delicate situations. She is another person who Kitty spells, and bc she’s a princess, it messes up generations of politics LOL
The story seems SO serious but to be honest 90% of the time I draw these guys, it’s for the shits and giggles
2. Driver OCS 🏎️
I got really into motorsports this year (NASCAR, Le Mans, F1) so I started working on a story just to enjoy researching and writing a realistic + fun character within the world of racing!
Characters:
Santana Marsh 💥
He is half-Spanish one-quarter-Catalan and one-quarter-Irish. He was born in Louisiana but moved to North Carolina as a kid. He is 27 years old and I have written an entire backstory starting from when he began go-karting at age 8. He’s pretty much been driving his whole life. He’s competed in the Allison Legacy Series, Xfinity Series, Nascar Cup Series, and the WEC/Le Mans, and in 2024 he was signed onto the Scuderia Ferrari Formula One Team.
He’s very calm, jokey, and drives like no one else. However he also doesn't like to examine his own emotions due to his difficult relationship with his father after the death of his mother, which is something he needs to work on.
So if I were make a comic or something about him, it would be about his 2024 season, where he meets my other F1 driver characters, etc.
Logan Abujhaad 🌊
He is a rookie - two years into his F1 Career on the Mercedes Petronas team. He is 23 years old and Franco-Marocain. He has had a much less lucrative career than Santana and has a wealthy background - he grew up in Marseille. He competed in Formula Renault, Three, and Two with the support of his family.
He is polite and charming and has a lot of female fans. He’s ruthless on the circuit, and is quite promising as a rookie from his determination alone. His story follows his rivalry with his teammate and his friendship with Santana, as well as his personal struggles with his nervousness and regrets.
I also have other Formula One characters but these are the main two. You can see my other characters in this post.
I think my dream outcome for this project is to make an animated film. Who knows!!
If u have other questions or just want to add a comment feel free to send an ask!
#my art#ask#fuckthychickenstrips#my ocs#long post#you ate my heart#kitty zhou#kitty chau#winghead#veel drake#santana marsh#logan abujhaad
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Gorgeous (part 1) 18+
Hawthorne Michael Langdon x Fem witch reader
( enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut)
Part 1 Part 2
Summary:
After the announcement that a warlock will be completing the 7 wonders, both the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, and Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies try to put up an appearance of peace between the rival schools. This new chapter of peace between witches and warlocks has a potential to pave the way for the future of magic, but when Hawthorne’s “Wonder boy” is found out to be a cheat by (y/n) she fights to make him reveal himself.
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“Alright, Ladies. Load up on the buses” Ms. Myrtle was instructing all of the students of Robichaux’s to our respective buses. The boys school had agreed to host us out of a good faith arrangement while one of their own would be performing the 7 wonders. A male completing the 7 wonders would be a sight to behold. There has never been a warlock in history who could complete 4 of the 7 wonders let alone all of them.
It was an excruciating bus ride from Louisiana to California but, after our arrival, we were greeted by every boy attending Hawthorne’s. I looked around to each of their faces. Any one of these boys could be him. It was actually pretty exciting to experience history in the making. Robichaux students were grouped into 3s and escorted to our rooms for the next two weeks. I was grouped with Amber and Elena. I was pretty new to the academy, so anyone else was grouped with would be a stranger. They seemed nice though. Each room had a large bathroom with a tub and shower. Eager to wash the bus off, my roommates and I piled into the bathroom and began washing up. “Do you think he’s cute?” Amber was washing her ginger hair in the sink as she asked Elena who was fully submerged in the tub.
Elena shrugged. “A lot of them are cute.” I was in the shower letting the hot water cure the ache in my tired bones. Personally more interested in how powerful this “wonder boy” was than if he were cute. We were asked to wear the feminine version of Hawthorne’s school uniform which was a complex uniform consisting of a button up shirt, satin vest, tie, blazer, knee length skirt, stockings and Mary Janes in all black except for the long sleeve button up shirt which was white. We were expected to wear this uniform every day during our attendance here. Were we expected to participate in lessons? I suddenly felt nervous about this venture. What if I embarrassed myself in front of these strangers?
My nerves kept sleep at bay. Looking at the clock it was 5 am, and I heaved a defeated sigh before putting on the uniform and pulling my hair into a neat style. Maybe the library would be a good place to practice my spells before breakfast. The entire school was silent, as everyone slept peacefully. The underground school was a true work of art, looking much more suited for a museum instead of a school. As I approached the library I could hear faint cursing from the other side of the door. I reached for the door knob just as a tall blonde boy ran out and slammed against me.
The force was so intense that I fell back hard onto my bottom. He stood with his feet firmly planted on the ground and sneered in my direction. “Watch where you are going.” He spoke calmly with a cold indifference as he rolled his eyes and took elegant strides away from me. “You ran into me, jerk!” I called after him in vain as he disappeared down the hallway. Such a punk! It doesn’t matter how neatly groomed he may be. He is still a thug. A dark haired boy equally well groomed exited the library next and extended a hand to help me up. “William Banks. It’s a pleasure to meet such a lovely witch so early in the morning.” I accepted his hand with a grateful smile. “(Y/n) (L/n). It’s a pleasure to be met by a gentleman after a run in with a thug. What was his problem anyway?”
William shrugged. “Something about his dad not answering him. He must be dead or something because he keeps casting summoning circles. Langdon is a weird guy, but way powerful.” My heart ached at the thought of the boy desperately trying to contact his dead father, and suddenly his rudeness was easily forgivable. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll see you around?” William nodded eagerly. “Absolutely you will.”
Michael POV:
I just can’t understand why he isn’t answering me? Am I supposed to complete the 7 wonders on my own? Am I supposed to be proving myself to him? “Mr. Langdon! Perhaps you misunderstood the rule that ALL students were to be in attendance of their respective classes at 7 sharp. Maybe you thought you didn’t need to learn more from us now that you are our resident GOLDENCHILD, but I assure you that you do.” Mr. Chablis stood over the couch that I was resting my eyes on. I stood as respectfully as I could as I looked down at his smaller frame. “Forgive me, sir. I was up all night practicing for my performance of the 7 wonders. I rested my eyes for only a moment, but time got away from me.” I gave a small apologetic smile hoping to successfully charm him into staying out of my business. “Right! Well drink this, it’ll put some PEP back into your step.” He handed me a black mug filled with a camel colored liquid. I scrunched my nose as I tried to decipher what he was giving me. “What is it?”
“Coffee!” Mr. Chablis then preceded to laugh at his own joke. A joke I was obviously not privy to because I was unaware of what was supposed to be funny about giving a boy a cup of coffee? Was I the joke. Was my reaction what was funny to him? I shook the thoughts from my head and brought the warm porcelain to my lips. The liquid burned my tongue and esophagus. But I only focused on the flavor. My mouth would heal in about a 3 seconds, but I liked the creamy flavor of this drink. It was a curious blend of bitter and sweet. Mr. Chablis was right. It did put some “pep” in my step.
My first class was transfiguration which was Mr. Chablis‘ class. Obviously he is the only instructor who cares if I am late. I arrived in the middle of the girl’s academy instructor teaching how to change the color of roses. “Thank you, for joining us. Just take a flower and sit anywhere. We haven’t started yet, so you are just in time.” Mr. Chablis extended a bucket filled with white roses towards me. I took one with a nod of appreciation to my instructor.
The girl who got in my way last night was sitting in a corner all alone. Why was she outside the library so early anyway? The witches came all this way just to see me perform the 7 wonders. Maybe she came to see me. I may as well have a little fun with them while they are here for me, right? I strutted towards her and sat on the floor of the library. My knee gently grazed her thigh as I sat. I expected some sort of reaction of excitement, but she only gave me a small nod acknowledging my presence before turning her attention towards her instructor. Playing hard to get huh? That’s okay, I like cat and mouse. I redirected my attention to the instructor who was twirling her own white rose in her hand.
“Today we are going to be changing the color of these roses. It can be any color you like but it must be one solid color. Do not focus too hard on the change or it may change many times, and do not focus to little or the rose will not change at all. Roses are stubborn like that.” She examined her rose and continued. “Try to imagine the rose shifting in your mind and encourage the rose to change.” She extended the rose for everyone to see and smiled as it shifted from white to a deep red. “Now you try.”
The girl beside you focused deeply on her rose. Quicker than anyone else’s it shifted to a warm yellow. I looked at the white rose in my hand. It was the color of innocence and purity. I imagined it becoming tainted with my energy. The petals turned to a deep red before shifting quickly to black before the petals fell and turned to ash as they hit the ground. There were several cheers from my schoolmates who were struggling to change the color of their own roses. “Ms. Benson, He didn’t follow instructions.” It was a girl’s voice from beside me. I leaned in to whisper into her ear playfully. “Tattle tale.” Her ears and cheeks began turning red from my small action. Cute. The instructor came towards us and smiled softly.
“No, you did the task right. You only put too much into it. Remember that the flower is stubborn but also precious. Think about something precious to you, something that you wouldn’t want to hurt with your magic and try again.”
She handed me a new rose and just like before it turned deep red, then black, then the petals fell and turned to ash when they hit the floor. I cracked my neck in frustration and tried again with the same result. Why couldn’t I do this? My vision began to blur and I felt the familiar drip of blood from my nose. I was wasting too much energy on this. Suddenly, the rose in my hand burst into flames resulting in shocked gasps from the others in the room. Not beside me though, I felt a friendly hand soothing the tension on my shoulder. “It’s okay, you don’t have anything to prove.” That’s where she is wrong. I was fading into my subconscious, but her one stupid fucking comment grounded me into reality. I grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her up so that she was eye level with me. “You don’t fucking know me.” In one swift motion I released her and stood. I then wiped my nose on my jacket sleeve and left the library.
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I adjusted my uniform as he left. “Damn…Wonder boy is touchy.” One of the girls from Robichaux’s spoke. Her name is Coco. I didn’t know her personally but when we took lessons together she seemed nice. “Are you okay, (y/n)? That was a real dick move.” I nodded as Coco tried to comfort me. I felt overwhelmed and dizzy. Suddenly my vision began to blur and I fell to the floor. The last thing I saw was Ms. Benson’s face as she cleared space for me to breathe.
I woke up in a small infirmary with Ms. Benson placing a cold wet rag onto my forehead. She gasped and called the attention to someone else in the room. “Cordelia! She’s awake.” The face of my supreme came into view and she elegantly took a seat at the foot of my recovery bed. “Are you alright, (y/n)?” I nodded slowly as I sat up in the bed. my muscles ached as I moved. I must have been laying in one spot for a long time. “I need you to be very honest with me. Did Michael do this to you?” Her voice was grave. I enthusiastically shook my head. “No! I just fainted. He yelled at me, but he didn’t do anything. I didn’t sleep last night and I’ve been practicing so much. I think I am just exhausted and fainted..” Cordelia nodded in understanding and began petting my head in a motherly display of affection. “Why do you ask? Is he in trouble?” Cordelia and Ms Benson looked to each other silently before Ms benson answered. “He has been banned from performing the 7 wonders because of what we thought he did to you.” I sprung up so quickly that my head flooded and fell back onto the pillow. “You have to tell him he can perform them again! How long have I been asleep?” Ms. Benson patted my forehead with the cold rag and nodded. “You have only been asleep a couple of days. It was a temporary ban until you woke to tell us what happened.”
I rose slowly this time. “I have to tell him I’m sorry…” Cordelia and Ms. Benson helped me up. “Would you rather one of us did it?” Cordelia offered gently. I shook my head now able to stand on my own two feet. I need to know where he is.-“ “- I can show you to his room.” William Banks was standing in the doorway. With a small bouquet of yellow roses in his hand.
#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon#hawthorne Michael#Michael Langdon imagine#michael langdon x you#michael Langdon x witch#BadBoy#slowburn#enemies to lovers#michael Langdon au
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Gentle reminder to those writing a French-speaking Alastor—His French will NOT sound or look like standard French (SF)! He might know well known phrases like adieu, bonjour, or au revoir, but the French he knows is Louisiana Creole (LC). While it mainly pulls from SF (As well as a bit of African and Spanish) the spelling is clearly different from SF. Take a simple conversation, for example, in LC, SF, and English.
(LC)
A: Bonjou! Ça va?
B: Ç’apé kouri, mærsi. É twa? Komen to yê?
A: Mo byin, mærsi. Ki-çé tô nom?
B: Yé pèl mò Joseph. É twa?
A: Mô nom çé Max.
B: Mo konten fé lakònésans avèk twa.
A: Paréy. Orévwar!
B: Orévwar, twa!
(SF)
A: Bonjour! Ça va?
B: Ça va bien, merci. Et toi? Comment ça va?
A: Je vais bien, merci. Comment tu t’appelle?
B: On m’appelle Joseph. Et toi?
A: Je m’appelle Max.
B: Je suis heureux de vous rencontrer. (Which is pretty close to nice to meet you, that of which is shortened to « Enchanté »)
A: Moi aussi. Au revoir!
B: Au revoir (« twa », afaik, just directs it at person A)!
(ENG)
A: Hello! How’s it going?
B: It’s going (literal translation: is it going well), thank you. And you? How are you?
A: I’m good, thank you. What’s your name?
B: They call me Joseph. And you?
A: My name is Max.
B: I’m happy to meet you.
A: Same. Goodbye!
B: Goodbye!
Some words/phrases translate pretty well, like « Bonjou » and « Bonjour » or « É twa » and « Et toi », but the further you stray from simple words and sentences, the greater the difference you see. (Turns out being separated from SF for about 300 years has its consequences!)
Also to note, Louisiana Creole ≠ Haitian Creole (HC)! They are different! Take the same convo in HC (with the aid of Google Translate)
A: Bonjou! Koman bagay yo ye?
B: Mwen byen pase, mèsi. E ou menm? Koman ou ye?
A: Mwen byen, mèsi. Kijan ou rele?
B: Yo rele m Jozèf. E ou menm?
A: Non mwen se Max.
B: Mwen kontan rankontre ou.
A: Menm jan an tou. orevwa!
B: Orevwa!
If you do end up writing Alastor speaking LC, do a bit of Googling rather than going straight to translate (Google doesn’t have LC, sadly). I went with the site below—the link isn’t working with me, but it’s a long pdf with 18 quick lessons followed by a glossary. It’s also where I got the convo example (it’s the very first convo they have written, under lesson 2).
(If you want to find it and are struggling, my search was “dictionary of louisiana creole pdf”)
His French is said to be broken, so don’t worry about being absolutely perfect ;} It’s unlikely that he would speak many full sentences with it anyway, since it’s so uncommon. Even if he knew it fluently, very few would understand him!
And yes, in the above glossary, there is the word for shit. It’s « Lamærd » if you were curious (which happens to sound similar to SF’s shit, « merde »).
Extra resources you might find useful!
This page in particular is good for grammar, from the writers of the above pdf
A technical and more in depth approach to history, phonetics, sentence structure, etc from the Atlas of Pidgin and Creole Language Structures Online (note: you can travel to different pages in the site, but be warned, because APiCS covers all sorts of languages and dialects outside of LC)
TL;DR: Alastor speaks broken Louisiana Creole, which is different from standard French. There are resources out there to translate if you want to spice up your fic or if you just want to learn it yourself. While using standard French is fine and more accessible for people, Creole is more accurate.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#creole alastor#louisiana creole#alastor#the radio demon#hazbin hotel fic#fic writing#long post#hazbin hotel ao3#??? maybe ??? what other tags work for this
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