#spectrum-sanctuary plays
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Spectrum's Doll (VSAU Story)
Based off/Inspiration from the amazing @rhapsoddity and their Vigilante Sheriff AU as well as their Head Empty Sheriff AU! Their art and story is just *chef's kiss* Definitely check them and their stuff out, it's amazing and lovely and I just can't get over it.
Also, implied hermit/empireshipping in this story. Nothing too drastic, just characters mentioning how they were exes or how they like each other, but still, it's there.
Also, also, TRIGGER WARNING: Hypnosis/Mind Control. That's kinda the whole point of this story. Cool? Cool.
When Stratos asked Sheriff for help in finding Sausage, he didn't think he would have to make a trade, intentionally or not.
Sheriff tied the llama hybrid up, the man struggling the whole time.
"Are your informants really reliable? It just seems like no one is here." Stratos asked, "Well, besides Spectrum's minions."
"Yes, I'm sure my information is correct, my informants wouldn't give me false info or lie." Sheriff said. They may be pigeons, but they see everything. He thought. He put the llama hybrid against the wall, who continued to struggle.
"You won't get away with this." The man hissed.
"Hey, that's my line!" Sheriff teased, taking out a deputy's badge sticker and sticking it on his head, "Boop!"
Stratos rolled his eyes before he and Sheriff moved to the next room of the warehouse. It was dark, making the two already on edge. Suddenly, a single light flipped on, revealing Sausage.
"Sausage!" Stratos ran over.
"Wait, Stratos, be careful, I don't like this! It could be a trick!" Sheriff exclaimed, taking out another lasso.
"Oh, don't be uptight, it's Sausage, he wouldn't hurt-" Stratos stopped in his tracks as the brunette lifted his hand, a large vine nearly stabbing him but only brushing past his cheek, "-me..."
"What the-?!" Sheriff watched as Sausage began to fight Stratos, the hero dodging and yelling at the other to stop. He took out his grabbling hook, spinning it in his hand, "That's Sanctuary's power! How could Spectrum use it? Unless Sausage is- oh god, that would make sense, but then why-"
"Too many questions~" Someone whispered in his ear, hugging his arm and wrapping their arm around his shoulder, "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours~ Just sink deeper and listen to me~"
Sheriff blinked as the colors in the room began to blur. He groaned and pulled away from the person quickly. His vision was slightly clouded by a mix of colors, but he fought against it, seeing the colorful villain. He had teal hair with heterochromia eyes, one teal and one orange. He wore a simple black bodysuit with a chest window, black jeans, and a colorful jacket, his black mask covering his face.
"Woah man, take me to dinner first!" Sheriff laughed, trying to ground himself.
"Gladly!" The villain, Spectrum, smiled, "But I don't think this location is very fitting!"
The colors moved and Sheriff saw tables and chairs appear around them. He groaned, holding his head and focusing on Spectrum. If he did that, he could see the warehouse, he could hear Stratos's yelling and Sausage using his power. He needed to focus.
"I-I'm flattered, but one shouldn't mix work with play-!" He groaned.
Spectrum stepped forward, "Awwww, come on handsome, a little break wouldn't-" He gasped, stepping back to dodge one of Sheriff's punches, the dirty blonde dropping his lasso and grappling hook, "Oh, so you like it rough, huh?"
"Gotta keep you on your toes, don't I?" Sheriff chuckled, trying to punch him again.
Spectrum dodged. Sheriff couldn't tell if he was moving slower or if Spectrum was just that fast, but he kept trying to hit him. He focused on fighting Spectrum, the villain seeming to get more bored by the minute.
"You know, I'm surprised and impressed you managed to endure this for so long!" Spectrum cooed, stepping out of the way.
Sheriff panted, smirking, kind of proud of himself, "Yeah, well, I know villains like you prefer a show and I don't mind an audience!"
Spectrum again dodged, managing to get behind Sheriff, "That's cute, but we should really wrap this up." He kicked the dirty blonde in the back, Sheriff stumbling and falling to his knees, "I don't do this for everyone, but you're quite a special case!"
Spectrum moved in front of Sheriff, cupping his cheeks, "Now, do me a favor and scream."
Sheriff gasped as he was blinded by colors, a voice in his head telling him to give in, to let go, to relax, to let Spectrum in. He tried to resist it, he tried to think of things to ground himself. Norman, Flick, he two cats. Grian, his awesome brother when he's not being annoying. Sausage, Sausage still needs help! And Stratos needs him and-
"Stop thinking. You don't need to. Let me do all the work." Spectrum's voice rang in his head.
Tears formed in Sheriff's eyes as they fluttered. He tried to fight back, but the voices telling him to give in overtook him. He closed his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks.
Spectrum groaned, holding his head as he looked down at the dirty blonde, Damn, why did I have to use so much power on him?! He thought. He stared down at the other and smiled, cooing as he wiped the tears away. Sheriff's blue eyes were glowing purple, a blank look on his face.
"Nothing but a cute little doll." He giggled before looking at Sausage and Stratos.
Spectrum smirked, picking Sheriff up bridal style before slipping out of the room. He blinked and laughed, seeing the llama hybrid still struggling in the ropes.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Your arm candy is stronger than he looks!" The brunette hissed.
"Oh, I know, trust me, Owen." Scott walked over, using a knife to cut him loose, "Come on, I got what I want. The hypnosis on Sausage will wear off the farther I get away."
Owen looked at Sheriff in his arms, "Oh my god, you must've used a lot of power. There are no thoughts behind those eyes!"
"That's the point!" Spectrum chuckled, "He was really good at resisting, even tried to put up a fight. But when I finally got him to stop thinking, he finally was mine!"
The two continued chatting, slipping into the night, disappearing with Sheriff.
***
"Home sweet home, my doll!" Spectrum giggled as he placed the dirty blonde on his bed, Owen rolling his eyes.
"I'm stealing your bathroom for an hour." He grabbed his civilian clothes, walking to the door.
"That's fine! I'll be here!" Spectrum giggled as the brunette closed the door. He smiled, removing his mask and jacket, placing them on a chair.
"Yo, Scott, I heard Owen." His bedroom door open as his sibling came in, "How did- oh, you got him."
"Xornoth, this is Sheriff!" Scott exclaimed, making Sheriff turn to face his sibling, "Sheriff, say hi!"
Sheriff lifted his hand and waved a bit.
Xornoth rolled their eyes, "Whatever. Just keep an eye on him."
"I will! He's going to just be either arm candy or a doll!"
"Yeah, I get that, but you also let your toys wander, sometimes. Just keep him away from my stuff."
"I will, geeeeez!"
"You okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I-"
"Scott." Xornoth looked at him, raising an eyebrow, "Are you okay? Injured? Broken?"
Scott chuckled, "I'm fine, Xornoth. Head hurts a bit from using too much of my power, but I'm fine."
"Kay. Just making sure." Xornoth waved, "Alright, I'm going back to terrorizing 10 year olds."
"Have fun!" Scott called as they shut the door and left.
Scott then changed into some pajamas before facing Sheriff, who was still staring at where Xornoth once was. He chuckled, tilting his head to face him. He removed the dirty blonde's hat, vest, and scarf, placing them on a chair before opening his closet.
"What to put you in...?" He hummed, "Hmmm... I mean, I could leave you in boxers, what do you think?" He chuckled, laughing at his own joke.
"Mmmn-"
Scott turned and saw Sheriff's face was twisted.
"H-H-Huuuh-"
"Shhhhhhh~" Scott cooed, quickly closing the distance between them, holding the other's cheeks, "No thinking for you~ Just sit there looking pretty~"
Sheriff slipped easily, his face relaxing as he once again fell under Scott's control. Damn, even now, he's still trying to fight. I have to watch what I say and order of him if me asking what he thinks can bring him back. Scott turned back to the closet, deciding a clean white shirt was all Sheriff needed.
He unbuttoned the dirty blonde's shirt and widened his eyes. Winged... surgery scars...? He looked at Sheriff's back, eyes getting bigger, Small canary wings...?! Scott was in shock before he gently removed Sheriff's mask.
"Holy- Is that-?!" Scott cupped the dirty blonde's cheeks before smiling brightly, "Oh, my god! Jimmy Solidarity Gaming is Sheriff, aye?! That's so cool! No wonder I like you so much!" He then put the new white shirt on the dirty blonde, unbuttoning and removing his jeans, "We sure live in a small world, huh? That's crazy! I can't believe you became a vigilante! And a confident flirter too! I guess that's my doing, you're welcome everyone! I mean, I am sorry I have to take this handsome hunk off the streets, but he's miiiiiiine~!" Scott giggled.
Owen walked out, sighing, "Alright, I'm done.
"Thank you so much for your hard work, Own! You're dismissed, minion!" Scott teased, playfully clapping his hands together, "That will be all!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going!" Owen laughed, waving as he left, "See ya tomorrow!"
"See ya!" Scott chuckled.
He smiled, looking at Solidarity's face, still blank. He gently laid the other down laying beside him.
"Cuddle me."
The dirty blonde did.
Scott smiled, "So handsome, doll. And all mine. Go ahead and sleep."
Solidarity's eyes fluttered closed and Scott smiled. He turned off the lights and fell asleep himself.
***
Stratos paced, biting his bottom lip, occasionally biting his nail anxiously, his whole body stiff.
"Stratos, please calm down..." Sanctuary tried.
"I-I just can't, I'm sorry!" Stratos groaned, "I-I mean, Sheriff helped me find you and now Spectrum has him! He's been missing for three weeks and-"
"Excuse me!" The two turned as two heroes came towards them, the avian placing down the brunette, "Stratos, Sanctuary, pleasure to see ya!"
"Hey, Hotguy, Cuteguy." Stratos smiled.
Sanctuary waved a bit, "Thanks again for the help, Hotguy!"
"Of course. Actually, speaking of help, um... Cuteguy?"
The dirty blonde seemed hesitant, nervous even, anxious? "...Um, well... I was wondering, do you guys happen to know someone in your civilian forms? His name is Jimmy or he sometimes goes by Solidarity?"
"Yeah, we do! Why?"
"He's missing."
"WHAT?!" The two yelled.
"Wait, wait, wait, how do you know this?!"
"Well, Solidarity is m-"
"What he means to say-" Hotguy interrupted, "-is that Cuteguy and Solidarity are really close in civilian form!"
"Uh, yeah, right!" Cuteguy exclaimed, "Anyways, I went to check on him two weeks ago cause he wasn't answering me and we had plans, but he wasn't there. I tried calling, texting, calling his and my friends, no one knew. I looked everywhere and his cats..." He sighed, "His cats kept meowing and whining at me. I fed and gave them water and they acted like they hadn't been fed in days. Which is just not Solidarity! He would never just disappear on me! And he loves those cats more than anything, he would put them over everything else in an instant! There's no way he would just abandon them!"
Sanctuary nodded, standing up, "Listen, we'll help you find Solidarity, but can you guys help us find Sheriff?"
"Sheriff? The vigilante?" Hotguy asked, "Isn't he, like, your archenemy, Stratos?"
Stratos looked away, "I owe him. He awas the one who helped me find Sanctuary, but... Spectrum took him while I got Sanctuary back. He's been missing for three weeks."
Cuteguy flapped his wings, beginning to fly, "Okay, so Solidarity and Sheriff, right? I'll do a sweep of the city again, just to make sure neither of them are hiding in plain sight and we just overlooked them."
"I'll come with." Stratos flew to stand (float?) beside him.
"Hotguy and I will ask if anyone has seen them and for details. We'll meet up in a couple hours."
The four split up and began searching.
As the sun began to set and the moon rose, the sky darkened. Stars shined in the night sky as the four met up once more, sharing what little information they had. No one has seen either of the men, and no one had any idea where they could possible be.
"Uggggh!" Cuteguy groaned, "Dammit!"
"Woah, calm down Cute-"
"Don't tell me to calm down, Hotguy!" The dirty blonde hissed, "Ti- Jimmy is missing and no one has seen him, he just poofed out of existence and I can't do anything about it."
"Actually, I know where he is."
The four turned and immediately became on edge.
"Hephaestus!" Stratos glared, "What're you doing here?!"
"Not here to fight!" The redhead exclaimed, "Temporary truce?"
"Yeah right-"
"I know where Sheriff and possible Solidarity is being held."
The four widened their eyes and looked at each other, before back at the redhead.
"And why should we trust you?!" Sanctuary exclaimed.
"Spectrum kidnapped you as part of his big plan, knowing Stratos would come for you. And Sheriff being Sheriff helped Stratos saved you, but Spectrum now has him. Right?"
"How do you know all this-"
"Doesn't matter, he took Sheriff and he also has Solidarity, but I don't exactly know where he's keeping him since I've only seen Spectrum lugging Sheriff around."
"If you know this, why ask us to help you?" Hotguy questioned.
Hephaestus looked away, "Well... truth is, me and Sheriff have some... history. We know each other in our civilian forms but our relationship is... complicated." He looked at them again, "But that doesn't matter. Spectrum has him deep under hypnosis and I won't be able to bring him back alone. Even if I could, I doubt he'd listen to me. I need your help to bring him back. And I can help you find Solidarity."
Cuteguy bit his bottom lip. He summoned an axe and pointed it at the other, "If you're lying, I will actually kill you."
"Noted. Now, come on, this way."
Hephaestus led the way, the four heroes following him, albeit from a bit of a distance. They arrived at a warehouse, the five standing on the roof and looking through the roof windows. The lights showed Spectrum, his orange clad sidekick, and a dirty blonde sitting on a box.
"Who-"
Hephaestus broke the window with his giant robot hands and fell through, glaring, "Spectrum, give Sheriff back."
"Hephaestus..." Spectrum glared, "I should have know you would find me eventually, you've always been obsessed with Sheriff."
"I'M OBSESSED?!" The redhead growled, pointing at the other, his giant robot hand doing the same, "You made a whole plan to kidnap a hero, just in case Sheriff would show up as support, and then kidnapped him instead so you can have some fake boyfriend!"
"Oh, he's not fake, he's my real boytoy!" He then looked at Sheriff, smirking, "Right, dollface?"
Sheriff merely nodded, blank face.
"Son of a-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Stratos yelled as the heroes stoof beside Hephaestus, "That's Sheriff?!"
The dirty blonde's hair was brushed back, a little diamond clip holding back his bangs. He wore a simple sleeveless black bodysuit with black arm bands, black jeans, purple boots, and a purple belt.
Hotguy drew his bow, Cuteguy summoning a weapin beside him, "You and your sidekick surrender now, Spectrum. It's five against two, you're outnumbered."
"You're right, we are outnumbered, but you're mistaken. It's five against three." Spectrum smirked, "Handsome, take care of Hephaestus and Stratos for me."
Sheriff stood and unlatched a black lasso from his belt, spinning it.
"Sheriff, listen to me, you don't-"
The dirty blonde interrupted Sanctuary by wrapping the lasso around Stratos and throwing him into Hephaestus.
"Sheriff, stop-!" Cuteguy called before he noticed the colors start to move. He groaned, closing his eyes as he flew up, "Hotguy, be careful!"
Hotguy seemed unaffected by the colors, smirking, letting his vex wings out, "Sorry, colorful man, doesn't affect me."
"That's fine, I got three of you distracted." Spectrum smirked, "Orange, take care of Sanctuary."
"You got it!" The llama hybrid snickered.
Spectrum took out a knife, Hotguy trying to shoot at him, trying to disorientate him. Spectrum easily dodged it and got close, trying to slash at the other. Cuteguy kicked Spectrum back, the colorful villain looking at the avian and trying to manipulate him. Cuteguy groaned and held his head, closing his eyes once more. It was a dance of Hotguy and Spectrum fighting with one another, Cuteguy trying to step in only to close his eyes to not get effected by the hypnosis. Orange and Sanctuary got in a heated fist fight, Orange also using a knife to cut the vines Sanctuary summoned.
Meanwhile, Sheriff was using his own weapons, trying to stop Stratos and Hephaestus, mainly trying to lasso one of them and then throwing them into the other. Hephaestus stayed back, knowing how dangerous his weapons could be and mainly acting as support as Stratos tried to grab Sheriff or dodged the dirty blonde's attacks. Stratos flew forward and pinned him down on the ground, the brunette staring into Sheriff's eyes.
"Sheriff, come on! Don't let Spectrum take over you! You're stronger than this! Come on, get out of your head!" Stratos yelled at him.
Sheriff blinked, the glow in his eyes flicking.
"Sheriff?!" Hephaestus called, kneeling beside Stratos, "Come on, Sheriff! You're an idiot, but you're not weak! Come on!"
Sheriff groaned, eyes twitching as the glowing dimmed more, "N-Nnnngh-!"
Spectrum looked over and growled. He kicked Hotguy in the stomach, the hero groaning. He then threw him towards Cuteguy, both yelping as Spectrum ran over to the other two. He manipulated the colors, Stratos and Hephaestus groaning. Spectrum pulled Sheriff away from the two, the dirty blonde groaning.
"Nnngh, w-wha-"
"Shhhhhh~" Spectrum cooed, "Shhhh, shhhh, no thinking for you, dollface~ Calm down, slip deep again~"
Sheriff panted as he tried to fight a bit, but he easily gave in, face blank once more as he once again turned numb.
"You-!" Hephaestus growled, his eyes narrowing.
"He wants to stay with me, Hephaestus. Right, Sheriff?" Spectrum stood up, holding Sheriff's hand and standing him up.
Sheriff nodded.
"See? He wants me, not you."
"That's it!" Hephaestus held one of his arms up, pressing a couple buttons, "Stratos, cover your ears."
"Huh-"
Hephaestus pressed a button and, suddenly, a loud alarm began to blare. Everyone but Hephaestus and Sheriff covered their ears. Sanctuary, however, lifted some vines up and threw Orange against the wall. Spectrum yelled, glaring at the hero. He glared and looked at Sheriff. He pulled the dirty blonde towards him whispering in his ear. Sheriff's eyes glowed a bright purple as he fell to his knees, Spectrum running towards the brunette.
Hotguy groaned and drew his bow, ready to pin Spectrum to the wall. However, before he could let go, Sheriff used his lasso to take his bow.
Hephaestus stopped the blaring, "Sheriff-"
Spectrum helped his friend up, smirking, "Good boy, Sheriff! I'll be back for you later! Do whatever you need to do, kill them if you need to."
Sheriff stood up, protecting Spectrum and Orange. He panted, eyes glowing a bright purple, twitching as he gripped his lasso tightly.
"Sorry Sheriff, not dealing with this!" Sanctuary wrapped a vine around his leg and threw him against a wall.
The man cried out in pain, eyes closing as he fell unconscious. Stratos flew over and picked the dirty blonde up.
"Great, we got Sheriff-" Cuteguy looked at Hephaestus, "-now where's T- Jimmy?"
Hephaestus went to say something but they heard police sirens. He cursed, "Fuck, I'll go after Spectrum and Orange and get him, but I gotta go!"
"WHAT?!" Cuteguy's wings flared up as the other climbed out the roof windows, "YOU'RE LEAVING?!"
"Listen, we may have a temporary truce, but police and villains don't mix. I'll get Solidarity, you help Sheriff!" He then left.
"YOU LITTLE-" Cuteguy went to fly after him.
"Cuteguy!" Hotguy grabbed him, "He's right! He helped us find Sheriff, but the police won't care. Besides, all four of us will get in trouble if it's found out we were working with a villain."
Cuteguy's wings slowed down as he landed, "....Right. I'll stay back, explain what happened to the police, you all help Sheriff."
"I'll help you." Sanctuary stood beside Cuteguy.
Stratos picked Hotguy up, "Alright, we're heading to headquarters. See ya both later."
Stratos flew to headquarters, the two going inside and heading to the medbay. They laid Sheriff down on the bed, a staff member healing his back. Hotguy knelt beside him, holding his head in his hands. His eyes began to glow a light blue, his vex wings extending as he tried to use his magic to break Sheriff out of it. He groaned, focusing as much as he could. Suddenly, he pulled back, groaning as he held his hands.
"Hotguy?"
"I-I can't break him out of it, it's not that easy. Every time I try, I just feel Spectrum's power trying to overtake mine."
Suddenly, Sheriff's eyes shot open. He screamed and went to punch Hotguy, Stratos catching him and pinning him down. Sheriff struggled, glaring, kicking and screaming.
"C-Calm down, calm down! F-Fuck, what is going on?!"
Hotguy widened his eyes, "Spectrum's last order was to kill us..."
Stratos widened his eyes, cursing, "Sorry Sheriff." He headbutted the other, Sheriff falling unconscious again.
Hotguy picked Sheriff up, "This is going to take a lot more focus, I need to go to another room."
"What?! But, Hotguy, what if-"
"I'll be fine, I just need peace and quiet and no distractions." Hotguy reassured, going into a different room he knew had no cameras.
He locked the door behind him before he laid Sheriff on the couch, kneeling beside him. He took a deep breath, taking off his glasses. He held the other's face, closing his eyes. Light blueish-grey marks appeared around his hands and eyes, his vex wings extending slightly. His eyes glowed a bright blue as he completely focused on the dirty blonde's mind. I should be able to reach in, weave some memories together and bring him back up. Hotguy thought.
He was inside Sheriff's mind, tugging and pulling memories of the vigilante messing with Stratos, the vigilante saving the day and catching the bad guys, the vigilante... talking to some pigeons? Oh, and there he was, helping Stratos find Sausage and then there he was, talking with Spectrum and fighting his control. Finding those seemed to break Spectrum's hold a bit, as he heard the dirty blonde groan. He ignored it, focusing more. He reached deeper into Sheriff's mind, pulling more memories up, these ones more specific.
Sheriff seeing a little girl crying. The girl was lost, she couldn't find her mom or dad. So, Sheriff picked her up, calmed her down, even bought her some ice cream, before helping her retrace her steps. The girl's mom and dad were extremely grateful, thanking the man profusely. He just smiled and reassured them it was no trouble.
Sheriff almost getting caught by Stratos after helping catch a bank robber. The brunette had grabbed Sheriff's wrist, attempting to get the dirty blonde to put them behind his back. Sheriff merely spun them around, telling Stratos he loved to dance and to just ask next time. That flustered the hero and he let go, allowing Sheriff to run and playfully wink.
Sheriff arriving home. In a... familiar home. Sheriff taking off his mask, hat, and scarf, setting them down on a familiar table... Sheriff walking down a familiar hallways, two familiar cats running over and greeting him. He picked the cats up, went into a familiar bedroom, and took out his phone. He sat on the familiar bed, turned on the camera, made it face him and-
JIMMY?! Hotguy gasped as he stared at the memory playing out, O-Oh my god, no wonder Sheriff and Solidarity went missing around the same time, they're the same person! Wait, fuck, Hephaestus says he knows who Sheriff is, meaning he knows that- Oh god, no wonder he ran! He wasn't going to reveal who Sheriff was! Oh god, what am I suppose to tell Cuteguy?! 'Hey, your missing brother? Turns out, he's a vigilante! In fact, he's Sheriff! So we found both, hurray!' Oh god, if Grian ever found out, he would kill Jim for doing something so dangerous! Hotguy groaned, shaking his head, Focus. Focus, it's okay. Just... focus.
***
Sheriff's eyes fluttered open, his head pounding, body aching. He groaned, looking around the room. He saw he was in some sort of office and-
Dollface~
He gasped, sitting up straight, looking around.
"Hey, you're-"
Sheriff stood and out his fists up, glaring.
"H-HEY! I come in peace!"
"Wh-What the?! Hotguy?! Where am I?! Where's Sp-" Sheriff stopped himself and shook his head, "Where's the villain?!"
Hotguy smiled kindly, sitting down and patting the seat beside him, "He's not here. It's just you and me. Sit."
"...Am I being arrested?"
"No, not at all. Just sit."
Sheriff hesitated, but did so.
"Listen, so..." Hotguy sighed, "Spectrum's grip on you was really, really, really strong."
"Yeah, I know." Sheriff hugged himself a bit, "I... I would try to fight it, but he would just... I don't know. I don't remember anything. I just remember his voice..."
Hotguy nodded, "Yeah, I know, I could tell. See, because Spectrum's grip on you was so tight, it wasn't as simple as me just challenging the power. I tried that, but his last order was to kill us, so when it didn't work, you woke up and tried to kill us."
"'Us?'"
"Cuteguy, Stratos, Sanctuary, Hephaestus, and I all found you, but Stratos and I took you back here." He explained, "Anyways, when I realized that didn't work, I had to go deeper into your head, root around, and pull you out. And, upon doing that, I... I saw your memories. Memories of you... without the mask."
Sheriff widened his eyes and stood up, stepping back, "Y-You-?!"
"Listen, it was the only other thing I could do and I don't feel good knowing, especially under these circumstances!" Hotguy stood up as well, "I don't want to expose your identity to more people, Solidarity, it's why I took you to a private room."
"Wait, you know me?" Sheriff asked, "Like, by name?"
"Yeah, um, soooooooo-" Hotguy removed his glasses, "I may or may not live with your brother...?"
The dirty blonde widened his eyes, "...HOLY SHIT!" He sat back down with the hero, "Scar? How could I not tell?!"
"Well, to be fair, we have tech in our masks and glasses that the hero industry made. It helps conceal our identities more. So, when I put my glasses on-" He put them back on, "-the tech makes it so your brain can't accurately pinpoint features. It confuses your brain, therein making it hard for people to recognize us!"
"Yeah, that makes sense, you look completely different with those on. Weird." He leaned back into the couch before widening his eyes, "Oh my god, how long was I gone?"
"Three weeks."
"OH MY GOD-" He quickly quieted down, looking at the brunette, "Please tell me Norman and Flick are okay?!"
"Grian and I took them in when looking for you." Scar reassured, "Cuteguy and I went looking for you, er, you as in Jimmy, and Stratos and Sanctuary were looking for Sheriff."
"Oh thank goodness." The dirty blonde sighed in relief before he seemed to realize something else, "Oh god, Grian and Pearl..."
"Yeeeeeeeah, they're freaking out... Don't worry, I didn't tell them!"
"Great! Now I gotta make up how I escaped Spectrum and make it look believable..." He sighed, "So, Cuteguy and Hotguy found Sheriff, but Grian and Scar are still looking for Solidarity, right?"
"Yeah. Listen, I could sneak you out and-"
"Nah, I got this. At least Pearl is safe from all this!"
Scar smiled awkwardly, "Hehe, yeah..."
***
The colorful villain growled, tapping his foot angrily.
"Sorry man, I was care-"
"Don't apologize, Owen, Sanctuary was playing dirty."
"Thanks for saving me, Scott. Even if it meant loosing your doll."
"You're my best friend, Owen. I can capture Sheriff again. I can't replace you."
The brunette smiled up at the other, "Softie."
"Alright, next time I'll leave you." The other teased.
Owen laughed, humming, "...You know his secret identity, right? Are you going to use that to your advantage?"
Spectrum chuckled darkly, "Oh Owen..." He smirked, eyes glowing as he manipulated the colors in front of them, "Scott is going to reconnect with an old friend and see how he's doing. Whatever happens after, I can't say."
Owen just laughed.
#vigilante sheriff au#vigilante au#empires au#empires smp#empires smp au#empireshipping#hermitcraft smp#hermitcraft#hermitcraft au#hermitshipping#solidaritygaming#jimmy solidarity#empires jimmy#empires solidarity#joel smallishbeans#empires joel#smallishbeans#empires smallishbeans#mythicalsausage#mythical sausage#hermitcraft grian#grian#watcher grian#hermitcraft scar#goodtimeswithscar#hermitcraft goodtimeswithscar#scott smajor#smajor#smajor95#smajor1995
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Women and Girls with Autism Spectrum Disorder: Understanding Life Experiences from Early Childhood to Old Age (Sarah Hendrickx, 2015)
“Interestingly, one of the findings from research into sex differences in children with autism was that girls with autism do not have the same stereotypical, rigid interests as boys.
My research certainly found that repetitive and restricted behaviours were completely the norm for the girls studied but that topic type differed.
A small number of activities came up time and time again as being favourites for repetition: watching the same TV/video/DVD programme (e.g., Mary Poppins, Postman Pat, Peppa Pig), reading the same book (e.g., an Enid Blyton book, Jane Eyre), listening to the same song/tape.
The scripts and lyrics of their favourite shows, books and songs were all known verbatim by the children. Collecting and sorting specific objects were also mentioned. (…)
Boys’ interests tend to be object-based – trains, dinosaurs, space – while girls’ interests tend to be people- or animal-based – soap operas, fictional characters, animals and celebrities.
This qualitative difference can explain why girls’ behaviour may not be noted as being unusual, due to the ‘typical girl’ nature of their interests.
Whereas a boy who quotes endless facts about ancient history, rather than playing football with his peers, may be flagged as atypical, a girl who obsesses about a pop star would not necessarily be seen in the same way.
The difference between the interests of a girl with autism and a typical child is the narrowness of the topic and the intensity of the interest.
These girls with ASD have single-track focus; they do not think or speak of anything other than their passion for an extended period.
They may have extensive knowledge of their subject but have more of a factual interest than a desire to live it out.
A child who speaks of nothing but horses may not actually want a horse, but just enjoys the facts about horses.
I believe that the interest provides the same outcomes for both girls and boys on the autism spectrum; once immersed in your subject of interest, there is a predictability and escape from the chaotic real world.
Knowing everything about a subject makes it known and provides a sanctuary from the anxiety and stress of a feeling of not knowing what’s going to happen most of the time.
Animals in general are a popular interest as they are far easier to deal with than people for many females with autism: their intentions are clear (no hidden agendas), their non-verbal language is minimal (cats don’t pull too many facial expressions), their needs are easily identified and their attachment and affection are unconditional and unchanging.
Some girls identify so strongly with animals that they imagine or wish themselves to be one.”
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which empires smp characters i project onto think should have religious trauma
both season one and season two because i think about this wayyyyyyy too much lol
so, without further ado:
Xornoth
this one is probably the most obvious of the bunch i’m going to list? imagine. you grow up learning about a pair of beings, one benevolent and one malicious. you praise the light and shun the dark, as all your family does. then, it’s revealed that you and your brother are part of a prophecy. the two deities you worship? yeah, they force siblings to be their champions, a fate that only ends in both their deaths. if they don’t, everything is destroyed. not only you have to perish, but so does your brother, who you care deeply about, because you’re kids.
that is already a lot to take in. what kind of god who loves you would force you to die? but then, you get told that you’re not even that. you aren’t the chosen of the light. you’re a child of the dark, and they immediately treat you as such. no matter how much you plead and pray, all they do is shake their heads and declare you too far gone. the god you worshipped hates you, and the evil you were taught to fear has claimed you as his own and you will never escape, instead doing everything you swore you would never do.
yeah. xornoth definitely has some trauma. but they’re not the only one, because…
Scott of Rivendell
yeah neither of the princes were getting out of this one unscathed.
the same things i said about xornoth apply, except everything changes. the people hail you as the one who will save them when the time comes, the one who will defeat the horrible evil. the evil who tucks you in when your parents are busy. the evil who plays tag with you in the palace halls and has snowball fights with you. the evil you call your sibling.
you don’t get to be a kid, because your god has chosen you to die. you don’t get a choice, but you’re hailed with the highest honor. you should be grateful, they say. but you don’t want the honor. you want peace. you want to not carry the world on your shoulders.
you want your sibling.
yeah being lifted up by a church can be just as damaging as being shunned by it, and we got both ends of the spectrum here! congrats, rivendell twins, now go get some therapy while we move onto…
Sausage of Sanctuary
sausage’s trauma is… different.
sausage has plenty of reason to be shaky in faith. his village was destroyed, he meets someone who looks exactly like the one he worships. it’s enough to shake anyone’s faith. is your god on that can respond? if so then why hasn’t she? you’ve been so faithful, so why are you hurting?
sausage’s trauma is less a direct result of the church and more of the terrifying ordeal of doubt. how dare you doubt that santa pearla is real and good. how dare you lose faith for even an instant. getting his memories back helps, but there’s still the nagging feeling he gets that he’s horrible for doubting that which brings so much joy. the voice hurts. praying sometimes hurts.
but something sets sausage apart.
sausage still believes. that’s a constant, no matter the hurt he suffers, he believes in Santa Pearla. he says his prayers, revels in her peace as he’s presented every reason not to. even after getting his memories back, his church stands. yeah, pearl was pretty powerful (oli has called her god before) but it’s… different. it’s faith. even though he knows he knows her, instead of being shaken, he’s solidified in it. because the world is good. santa pearla is good. people are good. he puts his hope in the good, even in the bad.
guess which one of these is most projecty lol
so yeah take my random ramblings about how different characters have religious trauma because i wanted to. sausage probably makes the least sense but i swear my brain has more reasons that don’t translate to words.
#sera’s soliloquies#empiresblr#empires smp#empires smp s1#empires smp s2#long post#character analysis#mythicalsausage#mythical sausage#scott of rivendell#scott smajor#empires scott#empires sausage#xornoth#esmp#esmp xornoth#cw religious trauma
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I have been trying to figure out what to say about this movie since I saw it on the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival jury, and I keep running up against the embarrassing conclusion that it has been impossible for me not to take it personally. This happens occasionally, where something hits you so strongly right in your DNA that you can't even tell whether it's as good as you think it is; mercifully the quality of RED ROOMS is not in doubt, but it reminded me of my delusionally personal associations with the original SNOW WHITE. The Disney feature was one of the first movies I ever saw, and it seemed to communicate to me very directly about my options for living as a human female of the brunette variety: On one end of the spectrum there is the sickly virgin with her morbid beauty and her kinship with nature, and on the other end, the cannibalizing bitch goddess with her devious mind full of arcane knowledge (ok so the Wicked Queen is not actually dark-haired, but I assert that that cowl counts (and I want one)). As a little girl I thought, yes, this is a pretty good deal for me, either one of these assignments will do.
Pascal Plante's RED ROOMS offers a similar dichotomy, and it has proven very hard for me to avoid seeing its main characters as an Aspirational Self, and a disappointing Actual Self. Maybe RED ROOMS has a Magic Mirror quality, in fact maybe all films do, though they don't all speak so clearly and bluntly to every viewer.
Juliette Gariépy plays Kelly-Anne, a fashion model who is fixated on the high profile trial of Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Lokos) who is accused of serial murder and traffic in the snuff films of his young female victims. Seated in a row of goth groupies, the expressionless Kelly-Anne is identified with their fascination with the case, and yet we have no idea what really motivates her. Implicitly, few people would have any idea what it is like to be Kelly-Anne; as her internet handle LadyOfShalott suggests, she lives alone in a luxury highrise with the computer as her only connection to the outside world. She emerges for fashion shoots marked by her dark, edgy brand, and to attend the Chevalier trial. Otherwise, her only regular human contact is with online poker competitors who are no match for her savant-like math expertise and apparent lack of feeling. She presents as a bit of a sociopath, which becomes worrisome as she uses her technological skills to stalk the bereaved mother of the only victim whose recorded murder has not yet surface. However, Kelly-Anne is ultimately unknowable, and not much like the other fangirls and -boys who appear day after day at the hearings. We find evidence of this in the arrival of Clementine (Laurie Babin).
In opposition to Kelly-Anne, Clementine is needy, ingratiating, and naively intrusive. The tiny girl is fueled by her fanatical belief that Chevalier is innocent, a conviction she assumes Kelly-Anne must share. In a moment of rare empathy, the model invites the urchin into her sanctuary and, after flirting with the notion of human friendship, she eventually reveals enough to totally shatter the young woman's illusions. Clementine is the perfect foil, providing us with a tool for interrogating Kelly-Anne's identity and motivation--and for me, she also provided a painful reminder of the difference between myself and what I claim to value. Kelly-Anne is like every William Gibson heroine I have ever attached myself to: beautiful and alien, yet more intelligent than beautiful, dangerously brilliant and purpose-driven, emotionally incompatible with normal people, voluntarily exiled to the fringes of society despite her social currency and financial power. It's hard to imagine what she does and does not feel, but perhaps her life is not so easy. Clementine doesn't see it, of course, finding Kelly-Anne's robotic perfection very amusing. Clementine is her opposite: pretty only in a childlike way, hopelessly unself-conscious, counterbalancing her ignorance with self-righteous fanaticism. I saw myself there, and while Clementine is appealing and sympathetic despite (or even because of) her foibles, it wasn't a great feeling. She is obsessed rather than focused, embroiled in adult matters she can't quite grasp, and incapable of understanding or engineering other people's perceptions of her. She and Kelly-Anne make a lovely odd couple, but true connection is not quite possible, and Clementine only ends up feeling embarrassed, and like she has something to apologize for.
Whatever filmmaker Pascal Plante's grander statements might be, about the cybernetic nature of modern life and the merchandising of other people's lives and deaths, laced through as they are with a peculiar Arthurian motif, I've had a hard time fully engaging with them only because of my own passionate investment in his characters and their perverse interpersonal dynamics. Maybe by October I will have matured enough to articulate a more robust argument about this in-any-case extremely great movie. In the meantime, I am haunted by the enviable unknowability of Kelly-Anne, and the tragic transparency of Clementine. For now I will just say that I love it when a male filmmaker seems to live out a fantasy through a female character. One of the reasons that I don't totally dis Rob Zombie is that I enjoy the way that he encourages personal identification with tough female protagonists represented by his wife Sheri Moon, genre heroines like Meg Foster and Karen Black, and in my personal favorite instance, young Taylor Scout Compton:
When I saw this grim, black-eyed portrait of Pascal Plante, with its stark resemblance to Kelly-Anne, I thought yes, this guy gets it, he wants to live through her just like the rest of us, even if her version of humanity is not ours.
PS Please enjoy Lord Alfred Tennyson's description of average Tumblr user the Lady of Shalott, depicted visually by John William Waterhouse:
#the red rooms#les chambres rouges#pascal plante#Juliette Gariépy#laurie babin#horror#thriller#drama#psychological thriller#techno thriller#lord alfred tennyson#john william waterhouse#the lady of shalott#internet scare movie
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Dirty Little Secret \\@nothinglikegod\\
Legato Bluesummers is a lot of things to a lot of people.
A tool for pleasure, a weapon for war, a tormentor and a nightmare. For others, he can be a savior, a pariah sent by God, a Vicar to the lost and for some, a beacon of hope in a loveless world.
To himself, he was a mistake, a wretched stain of sin on the world that had too many reasons to live yet twice as many to die. Ever the pendulum to swing from one end of the spectrum to the other like a horrid beast that tried to play at man.
His mirror in his abode had long since been shattered and replaced more times than he could count, opting to simply polish a metal plate to mirror perfection lets he punch it again. His own room modest, if only to prevent his deranged events from destroying what little he had, his personal alter the only other thing beyond his own bed.
Today he'd failed to do as he'd been ordered. Finding life worth cherishing in a place meant for desolation. Theft of the lives meant for the God, sequestered away in his precious embrace, he'd found guilt and shame when his eyes had met his Lords. When he'd lied to him and claimed the whole city was dead, though the Plants had been retrieved as promised, so had the few shards of purity.
He'd never tell the Plant, however. His Shards of Fate were his atonement, his small legacy of hope for both the Dependents' future, and his own blackened soul.
But still the lie plagued him, long into the chilled evening. He'd forwent dinner with the Gun-Ho's and instead slipped away to his precious Church. Tucked away within the edges of the facility, where his own abode lay in the back, he'd found sanctuary many a time in this space.
Today, however, was not for sanctum.
He'd found himself kneeling on burning coals, jacket splayed on the ground behind him as if the wings of an angel stripped from their frame. His sweater had been folded before him, baring his scar riddled body to the world.
Tan skin played the perfect canvas to silvery threads of age old torment. From lashings to cat-o-nines to cigarette burns, he'd had them. Most recent were the hot metal scars of Plant lines arching in perfect mirror to Divinity that it was clear he'd noted where every line and every dot rest upon Knives' form. A devoted testament to his willingness to burn in the name of their Lord.
Now was simultaneously evidence and a contradiction to that.
He'd found home on the heated alter before the hand forged statue of the Deities themselves, with Plants unfurled and reaching for their master, Lord Knives himself perched atop a throne, head back and arms out as if basking in the warmth of their desperate prayers.
And prayers a plenty the apostle held for him. Fingers holding the metal of his punishment over a righteous flame before the image of the God.
"Forgive me, Divine, for I have sinned." he arched his fingers, letting the flames lick at fingertips a moment, letting them retreat to focus once more on the metal.
"I looked God in the eye and spoke dishonestly. I laid upon my tongue serpentine lies with no intent to change come my end." He watched the metal turn orange, pulling it away to stare at it, the leather strop attached wrapped thrice over his palm.
Eyes fell shut before he moved. Metal flashed in the crescendo of its arc before to struck down onto exposed flesh. The metal digs in deep where the heat burns the wound shut. He rips the item from his body, slipping fingers over the leather to snap it back into his grasp as he trembled in the aftershocks of pain.
"I pray this is penance enough for my wretched sins. Amen."
The words choke out from shaken lips, ragged breaths hardening as three more arcs descend upon his frame until he's forced to grip the cooling metal in his hand. Tears bloom upon his chin from beneath blued locks, soon bursting upon his thighs as he fights down the sounds of wretched agony.
I deserve this. This is my penance for my sins. I deserve to suffer. I deserve-
The sound of the great hall doors snap him from his wretched thoughts, his bloodied back on full display, cast in swathes of candle and moonlight like the damned sinner he was.
"I am busy." he dares not to look to see whom it was, dares not to face them so they could witness the agony upon his face or the undeserving tears lining his cheeks.
Internally, the male curses, for he can hear his vocals strain, arched with pain and damnation. For any whom knew humanity, they could hear the agony his body was within, the heated metal digging into his exposed palm until the acrid smell of burned flesh arced into the holy space.
#v//In The Middle Of The Night Just Call My Name I'm Yours To Tame (Wolven Devotion Legato Bluesummers)#nothinglikegod#Dirty Little Secret#tw: self harm#self harm#tw self harm#“Look not upon my pain and feel anything but pride”#“Lest I cast myself further into oblivion”#“for I am not worthy of anything but agony”
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Title: Cultivating Wellness: The Medical Garden Kit
In an era where holistic well-being is gaining traction, the concept of a medical garden is blossoming into the spotlight. Imagine having your own corner of nature, not just for aesthetic pleasure, but for the very purpose of nurturing health and healing. Enter the realm of the medical garden kit – a comprehensive solution merging the art of gardening with the science of medicinal plants. Let’s delve into this green sanctuary and explore its myriad benefits.
The Therapeutic Tapestry of Nature:
A medical garden kit isn’t just about growing plants; it’s about cultivating a therapeutic tapestry of nature within arm’s reach. From soothing lavender to immune-boosting echinacea, the plants selected for such a garden are carefully curated to address a spectrum of health concerns. Whether it’s managing stress, alleviating digestive discomfort, or enhancing immunity, each plant plays a vital role in nurturing holistic well-being.
Empowering Self-Care:
One of the most empowering aspects of a medical garden kit is its ability to foster self-care. In a world dominated by quick-fix solutions, cultivating your own medicinal plants instills a sense of empowerment and connection with nature. Tending to these plants becomes a ritual of self-nurturing, reminding us to slow down, observe, and appreciate the healing power of the natural world.
From Garden to Apothecary:
As the plants in your medical garden flourish, they become more than just greenery – they transform into a personal apothecary. Harvesting and processing these plants into teas, tinctures, and salves imbues them with an added layer of intimacy and efficacy. Knowing exactly where your remedies come from and how they’re prepared enhances trust and confidence in their healing properties.
Green Medicine for All:
The beauty of a medical garden kit lies in its accessibility. Whether you have a sprawling backyard or a modest balcony, there’s always room to cultivate healing plants. Even urban dwellers can partake in this green revolution through vertical gardens, window boxes, or community plots. By democratizing access to green medicine, medical garden kits pave the way for a more inclusive approach to wellness.
Nurturing Biodiversity:
Beyond its human-centric benefits, a medical garden kit also contributes to biodiversity conservation. By cultivating native medicinal plants, we support local ecosystems and preserve traditional knowledge passed down through generations. Moreover, these gardens serve as sanctuaries for pollinators and beneficial insects, fostering ecological resilience in an increasingly fragile world.
A Prescription for the Future:
In a time marked by ecological crises and public health challenges, the resurgence of the medical garden offers a glimmer of hope. It represents a harmonious convergence of ancient wisdom and modern science, reminding us of our intrinsic connection to the natural world. As we tend to our gardens, we cultivate not only health but also a deeper appreciation for the delicate balance of life on Earth.
Conclusion:
The medical garden kit is more than just a collection of plants – it’s a testament to the transformative power of nature. By integrating green medicine into our lives, we embark on a journey of self-discovery, resilience, and healing. So, roll up your sleeves, dig your hands into the soil, and let the magic of the medical garden unfold, one leaf at a time. After all, wellness truly does begin in the garden
Disclaimer
This is an affiliate link
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Sentient House
Rain lashed against the bookstore window, the rhythmic drumming a familiar comfort amidst the harsh hum of the fluorescent lights. Sarah browsed the fantasy novels, the worn spines whispering promises of escape for a few precious moments. Alex, perched precariously on a rickety ladder, scanned the science fiction section, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Mom," Alex piped up, his voice barely a whisper. "Do you think there are houses with thoughts and emotions in other universes?"
Sarah, her heart heavy with the day's worries, forced a smile. His question held a vulnerability she knew all too well. Alex, a brilliant mind trapped in a world of inflexible routines and overwhelming social interactions, found solace in fantastical tales. It was a world Sarah understood intimately, both as his mom and an autistic woman struggling to navigate a society built for the neurotypical.
Finding resources for herself, let alone Alex, was a constant battle. The local autism support group folded months ago, and government assistance remained a bureaucratic labyrinth that seemed designed to wear you down. The weight of caring for Alex and her aging parents, both on the spectrum and struggling with their own challenges, pressed down on Sarah.
She knelt beside Alex, her touch the only comfort she could offer. "Maybe not sentient houses," Sarah said, her voice raspy from exhaustion, "but maybe other universes have things we can't even imagine." It wasn't much, but it was all she had to offer right now.
The bookstore offered a temporary refuge, but reality awaited outside. Their small apartment, now shared with her aging parents, reflected the constant struggle to stay afloat. Sarah knew the challenges wouldn't disappear. There would be sleepless nights and mounting bills. But for a little while, in that cozy bookstore filled with fantastical tales, Sarah held onto the hope that they could face it together, one whispered secret from a fictional talking house to Alex, and one shared glance with her son that spoke volumes, at a time.
As they left the bookstore, the rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle, matching the somber mood that hung over Sarah like a heavy shroud. With each step towards home, the weight of their reality pressed down upon her, threatening to crush her spirit beneath its burdens.
By the time Sarah unlocked the door, exhaustion completely flooded her. The elders' usual routines had become erratic, anxieties amplified. Cracked utensils they refused to let go of were stacked and stashed everywhere. Lopsided drawers were rattled repeatedly after each instance of usage. Stepping into their cramped, cluttered space felt like a physical manifestation of Sarah's deepest fear – losing control.
A flicker of defiance sparked in her eyes this time, however. Why should sentient houses not be a reality? Rolling up her sleeves, Sarah set about creating a calming environment without breaking the bank. Together with Alex, she repurposed an old lamp with a dimmer switch for a softer glow, fashioned weighted blankets from old clothes, concocted calming scents made from essential oil samples and programmed a nature documentary to play softly on the TV as a soothing visual lullaby.
It wasn't perfect, but it was a start. As Sarah sat down with her parents and son for a simple dinner of leftovers, a sense of quiet strength washed over her. They were a family bound by neurodiversity, yes, but also by a fierce determination to create their own sanctuary within the constraints of their reality, come rain or shine. The challenges wouldn't disappear, but with the unmasked love from her son and her own ingenuity, Sarah knew they would face them together, one repurposed lamp and shared memory at a time.
Mostly AI-generated.
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"Athena's name may appear in the Linear B tablets and many believe that she began as a Bronze Age goddess, derived from the Minoan goddess with snakes (conventionally termed a household goddess'), and later became a goddess associated with the Mycenaean palaces. Her function as protectress of the polis may be seen as an extension of her Bronze Age function as protectress of the household. Bronze Age depictions of the household goddess with birds and snakes are paralleled in the historic period, when Athena is portrayed with owls and snakes. There is no evidence that she was armed in Minoan art but a case could be made for the existence of an armed goddess in the Mycenaean period. Some argue that she is an ancient, indigenous goddess, connected with weaving, whom the Indo-European Greek-speaking peoples encountered when they came into the Greek peninsula. It is unclear whether the city of Athens was named after the goddess, or if Athena took her name from the city, though the latter is more likely. In either case, her name must have come into prominence during the Mycenaean period in Athens. In Athena's Panhellenic image, her role as armed protectress of the city is paramount — clearly more important than other significant attributes, such as a goddess of crafts, technology, wisdom, and fertility of the olive. In myth, Athena is depicted as a virgin goddess, born from her father's head; she is generally perceived to be very masculine in her traits. In cult, however, the evidence from some sites, such as at Tegea and Gortyn on Crete, indicates she also was a fertility goddess and aMistress of Animals', and that she was especially important to her female worshippers. It is interesting to note that in Athens, Athena's masculine traits became increasingly emphasized over time; it is argued that such a male image of the goddess was deliberately expressed in the sculptural programme of the Parthenon, in order to justify having a female as Athens' paramount deity.
It is notable that some of the earliest temples known in the Greek world were dedicated to Hera on the island of Samos and at Perachora. In the Argolid, the most powerful region of Mycenaean Bronze Age culture, the cult of Hera is pre-eminent. Her functions here seem to involve agriculture, pastoral fecundity, marriage, adolescent transitions and war, as well as the annual renewal of her virginity; in the Homeric poems, as the jealous wife of Zeus and goddess of marriage, she is given a far more restricted role.
Like Hera, Artemis' name appears on the Linear B tablets and some believe that she was a descendant of the Minoan goddess often termed the `Mistress of Animals'. Most of her main sanctuaries do not, however, reveal particularly early evidence. At the sanctuary of Artemis Orthia at Sparta the votives from the eighth century BC onwards reflect the deity's Panhellenic images as 'Mistress of Animals' and goddess of childbirth, but also indicate a role in fertility and marriage. The quantities of jewellery offered to her at all sites may underline her importance to women in the transitional rituals of marriage and childbirth. In myth she is portrayed as a virgin, but the archaeological evidence suggests she possessed a broader spectrum of traits, especially in the earliest phases at local cult sites.
Demeter does not appear to play a large role at Early Iron Age sanctuaries. Her most important sanctuary was at Eleusis, where excavation has revealed evidence of a Mycenaean building, followed by remains from the Geometric through to the Classical period, including the Telesterion, where the famous mysteries were performed. In mythology, she was portrayed as a fertility goddess of the earth, especially of corn. She may originally derive from a Bronze Age deity, though it is debated whether the Mycenaean building at Eleusis was religious or if cult began in the eighth century BC and incorporated the Bronze Age remains. Her cult in Arcadia, as discussed above, takes on different forms and may pre-date the Eleusinian cult."
- From Athena to Zeus: An A-Z Guide to the Origins of Greek Goddesses by Mary E. Voyatzis (in Ancient Goddesses: the Myths and the Evidence)
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The Daily D/S For 1/03/24:
How would you define BDSM in your own words?
BDSM, to me, is not merely an acronym or a collection of practices; it is a sanctuary where authenticity thrives, unbridled by society's norms and expectations. It is a realm where, with a consensual partner, we co-create a relationship structured with exceptions, accountability, and the delightful nuances of lifestyle play, such as one of my personal favorites, spanking. Above all, BDSM embodies a commitment to authenticity and serves as a haven where societal norms and, perhaps, taboos can be both challenged and explored. It is more than a pastime; it is a place I proudly call home.
In the expansive realm of BDSM, I find the freedom to live authentically. It is a departure from the constraints and expectations that society often imposes on individuals. Within this space, I can embrace and express my true self without fear of judgment or conformity. BDSM becomes a canvas where the paintbrush of authenticity strokes the portrait of genuine connections, allowing relationships to flourish outside the conventional boundaries dictated by societal norms.
One distinctive facet of BDSM is the opportunity to craft relationships collaboratively. It goes beyond the conventional script, offering a canvas where partners can paint the structure of their connection together. This involves setting exceptions, establishing clear boundaries, and negotiating the terms of engagement. Accountability becomes a cornerstone, fostering a sense of responsibility that enhances trust and deepens the connection between partners.
The term BDSM encompasses a spectrum of activities that extend beyond the conventional boundaries of intimacy. It includes what enthusiasts affectionately refer to as "lifestyle play." For me, this involves the sweet joys of exploring various facets of intimacy, such as the art of spanking. These shared experiences, rooted in consent and mutual enjoyment, contribute to the richness of the relationship, creating a unique tapestry woven with trust, passion, and pleasure.
BDSM, at its core, serves as a platform to challenge societal norms and venture into territories considered taboo. It is a space where individuals can question established conventions, redefine boundaries, and explore the uncharted realms of desire and connection. This challenging and exploratory aspect of BDSM fosters personal growth, allowing individuals to embrace facets of themselves that might remain hidden in more conventional spaces.
Above all, BDSM is a place I proudly call home. It is a sanctuary where I can be true to myself, explore the depths of my desires, and forge connections that transcend the ordinary. In this space, authenticity reigns supreme, and the journey is not only about pleasure but also about self-discovery, acceptance, and the celebration of individuality. For me, defining BDSM is an ongoing, personal narrative, one that continuously evolves as I navigate the vast and liberating landscape of this unconventional home.
How do you define it for yourself?
If you enjoyed this, I invite you to give my podcast a listen 'Chatting With The Lightkeeper,' a top 25% most-followed podcasts on Spotify but available on all the major podcasting apps and follow my socials for more exclusive content: Instagram, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter) for a deeper dive into the wonderful world of D/S.
As with all of my thoughts, please see this disclaimer.
©TLK2024
#d/s relationship#bd/sm community#dom/sub#d/s community#my writing#bd/sm blog#bd/sm daddy#bd/sm kink#bd/sm lifestyle#bd/sm relationship#d/s#daily d/s
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Dismantling Toxicity: Unveiling the Challenges Faced by Marginalized Groups in Gaming Communities
In the vast realm of online gaming, where pixels clash and virtual worlds come alive, a disconcerting reality has been unfolding. Gaming communities, once heralded as sanctuaries for shared passion and camaraderie, are increasingly marred by toxicity. While this issue affects players across the spectrum, it has a disproportionately severe impact on women, members of the LGBT communities, and ethnic minorities. In this blog post, we'll navigate through the disconcerting trends, shed light on the experiences of marginalized groups, and discuss potential strategies to foster a more inclusive gaming environment (Sevelius et. al 2020).
(Mary 2020).
The Growth of Toxicity: A Harsh Reality
Gaming, a global phenomenon that transcends boundaries, has undeniably thrived on the connections forged in virtual spaces. However, as the community has grown, so too has the dark underbelly of toxicity. For some, playing a game has transformed from a leisurely pursuit into a gauntlet of harassment and discrimination (McCarty, Borgert & Burgoon 2020).
(GIPHY n.d.).
Microaggressions and Macro Consequences
Microaggressions, those seemingly harmless comments or actions that carry subtle discriminatory undertones, are a pervasive issue in gaming communities. For women, these microaggressions might manifest as doubts about their gaming skills, a constant need to prove their legitimacy in a predominantly male domain. LGBT individuals might endure derogatory slurs and a barrage of offensive comments. Ethnic minorities face racial stereotypes and insensitivity, perpetuating a cycle of exclusion and alienation (Association for Psychological Science 2021).
(Unleashed 2021).
The Gender Gap: Stereotypes and Scepticism
“Breaking Controllers and Stereotypes: The Gender Gap in Gaming”
The gender gap in gaming remains a persistent issue. Despite the increasing number of women gamers, stereotypes and skepticism still plague female players. The assumption that gaming is a male-dominated activity persists, contributing to an environment where women often find themselves defending their right to be part of the gaming community. Initiatives aimed at breaking down these stereotypes and celebrating the diversity of gaming experiences are crucial for fostering inclusivity (Krienke 2023).
(Miller 2017).
LGBT Representation: Beyond Tokens and Caricatures
"Beyond the Rainbow: The Quest for Genuine LGBT Representation in Gaming"
While there have been positive strides in including LGBT characters in games, token representation and stereotyping are still prevalent. Authentic, well-rounded representation goes beyond adding a rainbow flag; it involves integrating diverse narratives that reflect the reality of LGBT individuals. This representation not only enriches storytelling but also sends a powerful message of acceptance and visibility (Russell & Fish 2016).
(https://giphy.com/search/rainbow-days)
Ethnic Diversity: More Than Just Pixels on a Screen
"Beyond Pixels: The Imperative of Ethnic Diversity in Gaming"
Ethnic diversity in gaming is another facet that demands attention. Token characters often fall short of true representation, leading to a lack of authentic inclusion. The gaming industry must move beyond surface-level diversity and embrace narratives that authentically represent the experiences of individuals from diverse ethnic backgrounds (Flanagin, Kendall-Taylor & Bibbins-Domingo 2023).
(Adeline & Jotangia n.d.)
Moderation Matters: Empowering the Community
"Keyboard Warriors No More: The Power of Community Moderation"
Community-driven moderation can be a linchpin in tackling toxicity. Empowering players to report and address instances of harassment, coupled with the strict enforcement of anti-toxicity policies by game developers, can contribute to creating safer and more inclusive spaces. The responsibility doesn't solely rest on developers; it's a collective effort to cultivate a positive gaming environment (Shafiei 2023).
Education and Advocacy: A Catalyst for Change
“Respawn, Rethink, Respect: The Role of Education in Gaming Communities”
Education is a potent tool for change. Initiatives that raise awareness about the diverse gaming community, foster empathy, and provide resources for both players and developers can pave the way for a more inclusive future. Advocacy for inclusivity within the gaming industry can encourage positive change from the inside out.
Conclusion: Levelling Up Together
As we navigate the ever-evolving landscape of gaming, it's imperative to confront the toxicity that threatens to undermine the essence of these virtual communities. Recognizing the unique challenges faced by women, LGBT individuals, and ethnic minorities is the first step toward creating a gaming environment that is truly for everyone. By dismantling stereotypes, advocating for authentic representation, promoting community-driven moderation, and fostering education, we can collectively level up the gaming experience for all. It's time to build a gaming community that not only embraces diversity but thrives on it, where every player feels welcome, respected, and free to enjoy the virtual worlds they inhabit.
List of References
Adeline, J & Jotangia, J n.d., Ethnic & cultural diversity: The C.A.R.E framework & Alpha's journey, Alpha, viewed 15 November 2023, <https://alphafmc.com/blog/2021/03/02/ethnic-cultural-diversity-the-c-a-r-e-framework-alphas-journey/>.
Association for Psychological Science 2021, Current understandings of microaggressions: impacts on individual and society, Association for Psychological Science, viewed 13 November 2023, <https://www.psychologicalscience.org/news/releases/2021-sept-microaggressions.html>.
Flanagin, RN Kendall-Taylor, J & Bibbins-Domingo, K 2023, 'Guidance for authors, peer reviewers, and editors on use of AI, language models, and chatbots', Artificial Intelligence Resource Centre 27 July, viewed 15 November 2023, <https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2807956>.
GIPHY (n.d.), Batman Facepalm GIF by WE tv - Find & Share on GIPHY, Giphy, viewed 13 November 2023 <https://giphy.com/embed/3xz2BLBOt13X9AgjEA>.
Krienke, H 2023, 'Amidst, by, near, with: locating recovery and forgetting in the shadow of COVID', Literature and Medicine, vol. 41, no. 1, viewed 13 November 2023, <https://muse.jhu.edu/article/911439/summary>.
Mary 2020, Top-rated nonprofits serving marginalized groups, Great Nonprofits, viewed 13 November 2023, <https://blog.greatnonprofits.org/marginalized-groups-top-rated-nonprofits-offering-support/>.
McCarty, LS, Borgert, CJ & Burgoon, LD 2020, 'Evaluation of the inherent toxicity concept in environmental toxicology and risk assessment', Environmental Toxicology and Chemistry, vol. 39, no. 12, viewed 13 November 2023, <https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7756858/>.
Miller, CC 2017, 'Mother's Pay', The gender pay gap is largely because of motherhood, 13 May, viewed 14 November 2023, <https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/13/upshot/the-gender-pay-gap-is-largely-because-of-motherhood.html?rref=collection%2Fsectioncollection%2Fupshot&action=click&contentCollection=upshot®ion=rank&module=package&version=highlights&contentPlacement=1&pgtype=sectionfront&_r=0&smid=tw-upshotnyt&smtyp=cur>.
Russell, ST & Fish, JN 2016, 'Mental health in lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) youth', Annu Rev Clin Psychol, 28 March, viewed 15 November 2023. <https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4887282/>.
Sevelius, JM, Gutierrez-Mock, L, Zamudio-Haas, S, McCree, B, Ngo, A, Jackson, A, Clynes, C, Venegas, L, Salinas, A, Herrera, C, Stein, E, Operario, D & Gamarel, K 2020, 'Research with marginalized communities: Challenges to continuity during the COVID-19 pandemic', AIDS Behav, vol. 24, no. 7, viewed 13 November 2023, <https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7228861/>.
Shafiei, M 2023, Unveiling the power of keyboard warriors: Navigating the digital discourse, LinkedIn, viewed 15 November 2023, <https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/unveiling-power-keyboard-warriors-navigating-digital-mahdi-shafiei/>.
Unleashed 2021, Microaggression - the hidden cause of stress + pain within your community, Unleashed, viewed 13 November 2023, <https://www.unleashed.company/post/microaggressions-the-hidden-cause-of-stress-pain-within-your-company>.
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Finding Jade - Chapter 2. The Sky With No Clouds
Summary: The woman found in the badlands regains consciousness. Jade has been looking for the Heroes as she’s learned how to defeat the Others. She also reveals that she has abilities.
Length: 2.4K
Characters: Bucky, Steve, Bruce, Jade, Ma.
Warnings: none really except Jade seems odd to the Avengers. Her telepathic abilities aren’t threatening.
Author notes: The look for Jade was deliberate, petite, with pale blonde (almost white) hair. The character was inspired by the look of an Australian model, Ollie Henderson, who went blonde for while. It gave her an otherworldly look that contrasted sharply with Bucky’s size as well as the physical and emotional darkness that surrounded him. Jade’s oddness also comes from her background but as she lives with the Avengers she will adapt quickly. At a point later in the story she will make a decision that affects her character deeply.
<<Chapter 1
🐕
Ma sat meditating in the hidden garden of the Sanctuary, trying to make contact with her adopted daughter Jade without success. They had argued about whether they should stay in the safety of the Sanctuary or try to make it to the Bunker, where the Heroes were. Ma called them Heroes remembering how they had stopped that Thanos guy from killing everyone after he had killed half of all people the first time. Ma had been able to sense and stop the Snap from happening to her, Jade and Ben but Jade's husband Seth had been on a foraging expedition in the Badlands and had never returned. At the time they had thought he disappeared in the Snap but when the Heroes reversed it five years after the Snap and Seth didn't return Ma knew it was something else. A year after Thanos was defeated for good the Others came. Life became a struggle for everyone, even the Heroes. That's why Jade wanted to go on to the Bunker. She had found out what would kill the Others and she wanted the Heroes to know about it. The old woman decided to try one more time to reach Jade. Focusing on the talisman made of jade in her hand she pictured her daughter and sent her a thought.
"Jade, wake up," she thought.
There was nothing at first then she heard it, weak but alive. "Ma, I made it," thought Jade back to her. "I'm alive and in the Bunker."
"Rest Jade," said Ma. "Get your strength. Ben and I are safe. We will wait for you. Take your time."
Jade acknowledged the advice and her thoughts turned soft as she allowed herself to sleep. Ma could hear Jade's subconscious as she slipped into the sleep cycle. When the dream cycle started and it was a dream of the three of them playing she was satisfied and withdrew from Jade's mind. Her daughter was alive and with the Heroes.
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
Anthem by Leonard Cohen
Bruce watched his patient as he sterilized his instruments. She had stirred briefly about an hour previously and he thought she would waken but he realized she had gone from unconsciousness to sleeping. It was confirmed when he noticed the rapid eye movement behind her eye lids. Thank goodness Bucky had cleaned her up. He wouldn't have noticed the REM with all the crusted dirt on her eyes. Her colour was better, proof that the broad spectrum antibiotic had done its work and was battling the poison that most Other wounds often had. She must have been terrified to come through the Badlands alone. The fact the Others may have followed her into the Badlands was an indication to him that she was important. The Others weren't stupid. They didn't go where there wasn't water. It's why the Bunker was built where it was, in the middle of the desert next to the Badlands of New Mexico. Once a connection had been made that the Others liked water most survivors had found ways to isolate their water supplies to keep them hidden from the aliens. Until this strange woman woke up Bruce wouldn't know why she came through the Badlands nor why the Others were after her.
He wished Wanda was here. She could gently probe the woman's mind while she slept. But she was on leave, having slipped into a depression on the anniversary of Vision's death. He felt compassion for her as he also struggled on the anniversaries of Natasha's death. Wanda and Vision at least had declared their love and had been able to have a physical relationship. He hadn't ever really told Natasha how he felt and had run when she tried to push the relationship further. To the end of his days he would always regret that. He heard a small groan and he jumped out of his chair, coming to the bedside. He checked her IV and when he looked at her again her eyes were open and she was looking at him.
"Hey," he said softly. "I'm Bruce. What's your name?"
"Jade," she said in almost a whisper. "Am I in the Bunker? I need to see the Heroes."
"You're in the Bunker," he replied, noting her name fit her eye colour. "By Heroes I hope you mean the Avengers. They're here waiting to talk to you. Do you feel up to it?"
Jade nodded and Bruce helped her sit up a bit. He gave her a glass of water which she drained. She looked down and saw the scrubs top and bottoms.
"Where's my tank top?" she asked. "And my jacket and pants."
"Your jacket and pants are on the chair," he motioned to the chair near her bed. "They're pretty dirty so we'll wash them and get them back to you. We had to cut your tank top off. I'm sorry but when we cleaned you up we saw you without clothing but the man who washed you is a good guy. He won't say anything to anyone else about what he saw."
She got a faraway look in her eyes for a moment. "The long haired man with blue eyes," she said. "He's sad."
Bruce nodded. "His wife and baby son died last year," he replied. "He is sad."
"You saw my tattoo then," she said. "I'm not with them. They ran me out of the commune when I was a child. Said I was cursed. Ma found me in the Badlands and adopted me. I was married but Seth disappeared in the Snap and never returned. My son, Ben, is with Ma in the Sanctuary. We have to get them out of there. It won't be safe much longer. The Others have big plans."
Bruce looked at her. "How did you know I was going to ask those questions?" he asked.
"It's my curse," she said. "It's why the Children of Adam cast me out when I was six years old."
"How old are you now?" asked Bruce.
"Thirty one," she said. "Can you call the one who found me and the long haired one. The dog can come as well. You stay, too. You're nice."
Bruce went to the intercom on the wall and called Steve and Bucky. Said the woman was awake and wanted to talk but only to them and to him. He added "bring the dog" to the conversation. A few minutes later they walked in and she smiled at them. Bruce made the introductions.
"Thank you for finding me and bringing me here," she said to Steve.
"Thank you for alerting your master," she said to Buddy, who jumped up and put his paw in her hand.
"Thank you for cleaning me so well," she said to Bucky. "You did a good job on my hair. I've already explained to Bruce that you don't have to worry about the tattoo. They cast me out when I was six years old. In their eyes I was cursed. But Ma, that's my adopted mother, found me in the Badlands and took me in. She calls it a gift because she has one as well. She's listening right now as we talk. My son Ben is with her. He doesn't have a gift except he's my son and I love him."
She stopped speaking, looking at the three men expectantly. They were all a bit taken aback by her style of speaking but Steve cleared his throat. "Why were you in the Badlands?" he asked.
"Trying to get away from the Others," she said. "They followed me in a ways and were able to wound me. They knew I had important information for you and were trying to stop me."
"Where are Ma and Ben?" asked Bucky.
"They're in the Sanctuary," she said. "It's on the other side of the Badlands and Ma has been able to hide it from the Others. They know it's there somewhere but they can't see it. Would you like to see it?"
She put her hand out to Bucky and he touched it. He immediately had a vision of an oasis in the desert. An older woman with blue eyes and white hair sat and smiled at him. When Jade let his hand go the vision disappeared.
"Don't be sad for Lily," said Jade. "She knows you miss her and the boy. They watch you and hope you move on someday."
Bucky started breathing heavily and turned around leaving through the medical room door. Jade didn't seem bothered by it and turned to Steve. He excused himself briefly and stepped outside. Bucky was leaning against the hallway wall and when he turned his eyes to Steve he looked haunted.
"She knew about Lily," he whispered. "How did she do that? How could she show me a vision of an oasis in the desert?"
"Did you get a sense she's dangerous?" asked Steve.
"No, quite the opposite," said Bucky. "She's an open book. I sensed no fear, or hate. The calm that emanates from her is ... indescribable. I'm a little shaken by it but I feel drawn to her."
"Come back in then," he said. "She asked for you so you must have made an impression on her."
Both men returned and she looked at them in her friendly way. She realized she had affected the long haired one and made a mental note not to share so much the next time they touched. She smiled to herself seeing them touching more in the future but she kept it to herself.
"You said the Others had big plans," said Bruce. "What plans?"
"They have built themselves ... exo-suits, that's a word, isn't it?" she asked. "Suits that provide them water in the desert and the Badlands. They're going to search those areas soon. They will find your Bunker. They want to kill you because you're the biggest danger to them right now. They know you defeated Thanos."
"Do you know when?" asked Steve.
"Hard to say," she said. "They are very difficult to read as they are a ... hive mind, a group consciousness. It's like listening to thousands of bees buzz in your head. There are many nests but they are connected to a queen. Their queen is well protected but she is the one who develops the strategy. I've heard the one near the Badlands occasionally. That's how I know they want to kill you. They want to kill me and Ma as well. Because we can hear them."
"Do you know how to stop them?" asked Bucky.
She turned to face him and he saw the jade colour of her eyes fully for the first time. "Kill the queen," she said simply. "They can't function without her. You need me and Ma to locate her then you go in and be Heroes and kill the queen. If you can get the other Hero to come back ... the witch, we have a better chance to find the queen and kill her."
The three men looked at each other and stepped out into the hallway together. No one said anything at first.
"That's the plan," said Bucky. "Find the queen, kill the queen."
"Sounds reasonable when you say it that way," said Steve.
"No it doesn't," exclaimed Bruce. "What kind of plan is that? You've fought the Others before. It takes a lot to kill just one. You'll have to go through thousands to get to the queen and she's going to be a hell of a lot stronger than an ordinary Other. It's suicide."
"Then we need a better way to kill an Other," said Bucky. "We need to capture one and bring it here. Study it, determine it's weaknesses and then exploit that to get to the queen."
"Hive mind," said Bruce. "They will know where it's being held and attack."
"Unless we can suppress the connection," said Steve, looking through the window on the medical room door at Jade as she sat there with her small smile.
Steve walked in while Bruce and Bucky followed. Before he could say anything she looked right at him.
"That's a good idea," she said. "We should be able to suppress their link to the queen. But again, it would work better if you could bring the witch hero."
"Wanda," said Bucky. "Her name is Wanda."
"Gotcha," said Jade. "Thank you, Bucky."
Bucky smiled at her despite any misgivings he had about her. Her reading of his mind for his name again was almost imperceptible but he was sure that wasn't the only thing she had looked at. Strangely, he didn't feel violated or exploited. She had even shared something with him; an image, ever so fleeting, of them kissing. It didn't bother him as much as he thought it would.
"Jade," said Bucky. "You want us to get Ma and Ben first. Where is the Sanctuary?"
"I can show you on a map," she said. "But it's better if I take you as the way is confusing. Ma will keep it hidden until we get there. Once she stops hiding it we're all in danger from the Others. Wanda really needs to be in on the rescue. Having her can make all the difference. Do you want me to contact her?"
"No thank you," said Bruce. "We'll do that. She might not come."
"She misses him," said Jade. "I missed Seth for a long time so I understand. Tell her that." She yawned. "I'm tired and I'm going to nap. Can Buddy stay with me?"
She looked at Steve, knowing that Buddy was his dog. When he said yes she looked at Buddy and he jumped up onto the bed with her, laying beside her. She laid on her side with her arm around the dog, closed her eyes and seemed to fall asleep within minutes. Steve and Bucky left Bruce there to watch over her. As they walked down the long hallway both men were thinking of the odd but compelling woman they had just talked to. She had risked her life in one of the most dangerous areas in the country to reach them. Her manner was simple and open, but she had a gift that had terrified a community enough to cast her out when she was a child. When they reached the common room they looked at each other. They were going to call Wanda.
Chapter 3>>
Series Masterlist
Please like, comment and/or reblog if you liked this chapter.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#buckybarnes original female character#steve rogers#bruce banner#alien invasion#hive mind#marvels avengers
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Yu-Gi-Oh! OC Week Day 3 - Deck
I slept like three hours last night so apologies if this ficlet is shoddy compared to the others. I'm really out of practice when it comes to writing self contained things. This prompt was a bit of a challenge because I'm working with characters that ah, don't use decks. Had to kick this one around for a while and even then only used the actual prompt very loosely. There are brief mentions of another OC in this one, but Teana is a canon character... of sorts, the Ancient Egyptian version of Tea/Anzu as named in the videogame Forbidden Memories.
(@ygoc-week)
Day Three - Deck
Word Count: 1,295
Characters: Sanura, Mahaad
Rating: PG (for a little bit of suggestive implications at the very end)
When it came to their professions Mahaad and Sanura kept most of the particulars to themselves. Their services to the throne stood at opposite ends of the spectrum. Mahaad's duty to was to the Pharaoh and those that came before him. He protected the royal tombs to ensure that the eternal rest of the departed souls was undisturbed while guarding Atem in daily life. Sanura's duty was to the royal wives and their children. She contributed to the future of the lineage by ensuring that the next generation was healthy and well mannered while supporting their mothers in whatever manner they needed. Both husband and wife played the role of confidant to the family, a business that they took quite seriously. The only time either of them shared the worries entrusted to them was if there was danger in keeping quiet. Even then it was a difficult thing to do. For Sanura, at least, it felt too much like betrayal.
Burdened by the weight of having to make an uncomfortable decision she shut the nursery door. With the last of the children collected and Minkah spending the night with his best friend she had the rest of the evening to do as she pleased. Part of her wished she didn't. Idle hands made for busy minds. Snippets of the whispered talk with Teana and T'Kai were already starting to circle. She had been unable to soothe their anxieties. That in and of itself gnawed at her but there was little to be done about it. Times as unsettled as these were rife with reasons to be worried. The transition of power to Atem following his father's death had not gone as smoothly as hoped for and there were pockets of discontent among the people. It was little more than distant rumors at present but it was enough to put palace security on edge.
Patrols had been increased. New guardsmen eyed her as she passed them on the familiar route to the other side of the complex. The veterans they partnered with ordered them to relax. Being subjected to their scrutiny further soured her mood, however. After the fourth run-in with new faces she ducked down a side corridor used by the laundry workers to ferry loads out of sight. It was not a direct path to her destination but there were fewer people to deal with. Still, by the time she re-entered the main hallway her shoulders were knotted and aching with tension.
Thankfully, the magicians' wing was one of the areas off limits to most people. The guards that watched over its entrance had been stationed there for years. One of them nodded a greeting to her and let her enter without a word.
The magicians wing was small, containing a library, several storage rooms and a central hearth. Its walls were lined with the flowing symbols that made up the magic language instead of the usual painted reliefs. Mana had been all too happy to explain that they were warding spells meant to limit magical mishaps when she had asked their meaning. Sanura had tried many times over the years to decipher the runes with little luck. At best she had learned to recognize the most common ones and could guess what sort of spell they invoked but her knowledge ended there. She lacked the natural aptitude and abilities needed to harness magic. It was only her relationship with Mahaad that gave her access to the private sanctuary.
Experience told her where to find her husband. Winding around shelves and tables she navigated the controlled chaos that was the library, careful not to send a haphazard pile of scrolls tumbling to the floor. Mahaad preferred the desk located in the heart of the collection where he was never far from the literature he might need for any given topic. Sure enough he was there, head bent to the task of copying the text of a decaying tome to a new one. It was his version of unwinding and for a brief second she envied him for having such focus intensive busy work. The envy passed when she noted the size of the tome he was copying. It would take weeks to finish if he was the only one working on it in short spurts.
“Sanura!”
She had been standing there for several minutes before he noticed her. It was difficult to say which of them was more startled. Sanura jumped, eyes wide, at the sound of her own name. Mahaad's reaction was a more subtle jerk that was strong enough to jangle the tines of the Ring together.
“S-Sorry! I wasn't trying to surprise you, I promise!” she stammered. Her husband huffed and dropped the quill he had been writing with, his concentration thoroughly ruined.
“You're early,” he grumbled as he nudged the new tome to the side where it could dry and busied himself with securing the inkwell.
“The children are back with their parents,” she replied quietly. Her chest and stomach clenched. Mahaad was always grumpy after being caught off guard, intentional or not. The mood rarely lasted long and was usually easy to wait out but not that day. The unrest clouding the general atmosphere of their home was wearing her down. His scowl softened into a concerned frown when he looked up and saw that she had lowered her head. Rising from his seat he placed the Ring on the table in order to draw her into an apologetic embrace. He never held her while the Item was around his neck.
“You're tense.” The statement held an edge of sorrow. Sanura pressed into him and hid her face in his shoulder, accepting the offer of comfort while simultaneously trying to assure him that he was not to blame. He tucked her beneath his chin in response.
“Long day,” was the only explanation she felt up to giving.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His fingers sifted into her hair.
“No. Maybe. I haven't decided yet.” An honest answer. She had not come to a conclusion on whether she should share the details of her conversation with Atem's wives. Mahaad sighed but did not pry. Slow bit by slow bit she relaxed against him until the worst of the aches in her neck eased up. Pulling back just enough to turn her head she eyed the books on the table, desperate for a change in topic. “What were you copying?”
“My predecessor's attempts to categorize soul beasts. He was not the most organized of note takers.” The dry annoyance in her husband's voice made her snort. Wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place she tried to get a closer look at the original text. It was every bit as indecipherable as the magicians' language, for an entirely different reason.
“I think Minkah can write neater than he did.” It was Mahaad's turn to be amused at the statement. Resting her cheek against his chest she hummed in thought. “How many different types of soul beast did he identify?”
Sanura might not have known much about magic, but she knew how to send the scholarly type on a spiel. Mahaad was no different than the tutors of her childhood in that regard. He soon lost her in his explanation of the different types of monsters used by himself and the other Court members but it didn't matter. The sound of his voice was calming. He was still listing the strengths and abilities of his most used creatures when they left the library for the sanctuary of their quarters.
How lucky it was that she also knew how to derail his educational talks. It would be a shame to waste a night of having the apartment to themselves…
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and to the anon claiming their grandma had a "perfectly normal" wolfdog mix - please stop lying on the internet for attention, or at least perpetuating a lie you've been told since childhood. there is a reason wolfdogs are restricted to own almost everywhere.
Not the anon you're referring to but why are you so bent over the idea that there's NICE wolfdogs out there? My mom's friend had a coydog (yes different hybird yadayadayada stfu) that was very well trained and taken care of. She was very fuckin sweet, well raised, and well trained byt OF COURSE still had some wild tendencies. I've personally also met some very sweet wolfdogs, like legitimate wolfdogs. I think you're forgetting that our dogs CAME FROM WOLVES and other wild canids. Wolves in captivity, mostly looking at sanctuaries and such, are very close with their caretakers and can be the biggest sweethearts. The other anon never said that their grandma's was "perfectly normal", they just said it did well on leash and was essentially well-mannered. Is that so far fetched? If trained and handled right, a wolfdog can DEFINITELY be that well behaved.
Don't completely discredit someone else's experience because yours was different. I think you also forget that there's different percentages of wolfdogs as well as any fuckin breed of dog big enough can produce one. Genetics are funny like that. You breed a high energy dog with a high energy dog, 9 times out of 10 you're gonna get the same. Breed a high energy dog with a low energy dog and you are playing with roulette there. One pup could be all over the place and another could be hella mellow with some inherited tendencies of the higher energy parent. Same goes with wolfdogs or any domestic x wild hybrid. They will of course inherit a lot of their wild parent's instincts, bit they will also inherit features and behaviors of their domestic parent. It's a coin toss on what kind you end up with. If skye wolfe, or anyone has multiple and seems to be keeping their shit together then I'd like to think they know what they're dealing with. The minimum % a wolfdog needs to be recognized as such is 20%, that's fuckin 80% domestic dog. The highest they can have while being legally obtainable is 98%, so there is a HUGE spectrum to work with.
Sorry for the novel, I'm very passionate about subjects like this and can't stand to see ignorance in a time where information is at your fingertips
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Fandom: Good Omens
Title: Sanctuary
Rating: General
Chapter: 002
P.O.V.: Anthony J. Crowley
Word Count: 1,187
Brief Description: After 6,000 years of working for Hell, Crowley's schedule is suddenly and miraculously open...
Other Notes: Rebooted this old story as of 08/01/2023. Hopefully, there won't be any more unexpected catastrophes coming along to interrupt my progress.
Other Links: AO3
Part One
Quick Message: Please like this post if you would like for me to tag you in my future updates! Thanks!
Once upon a time, there was a serpent, and the serpent met an angel...
Today's a bit like waking up from a bad dream. The worst dream that anyone alive or dead could ever think to have, perhaps, let alone think about trying to live through. The one where darkness and cold is normal; leading humanity astray is encouraged; and everyone from the most toxic workplace in myth or legend hates each other with the fire of a thousand suns.
The one where
(hope is nowhere to be found)
only evil grows, and in the absence of light, air, and water, no less. The one where, perhaps, Humanity itself has grown so used to its own evil side that it no longer needs any external devils, because it'sss so willing to embrace its own destruction. But only, obviously, with a small nudge in the wrong direction first.
This has been his life, his very nature, up until a few days ago.
Hell itself would have demanded nothing less from one of its own, after all, whether or not he actually showed up at the old office from time to time. In fact, up until a week ago, he just might have been their unofficial top employee.
After that same week had come and gone, though...?
Well, perhaps he should start here--he's suddenly rooted to this little spit of land out in the eastern edge of the Atlantic Ocean. Attached, maybe, or something pretty close to it if he's got his comparisons right.
Also, there are no more eternal bonfires to lick at his scales, no freezing beams of false sunlight to watch his every move, no thousand thousand Dukes of Hell to give him a negative performance review...and oh yeah, absolutely no schedules for the next six thousand years, if not more.
Or so they might have him believe.
Outside, the weather promises a dry, warm day, especially since Adam still seems to be in charge of that department somehow. Perhaps it's better if he is, given how other humans at least three times his age would have played fast and loose with their own climates otherwise. Under his watch, though, it's nothing short of ideal: minimal allergy levels all across the spectrum; high air quality from the Islands to the Channel; no measured risks for those with pre-existing conditions; and the humidity isn't rising above ten percent.
And if that didn't miraculously add up to what appears to be the perfect day, there's just one more thing to consider.
Aziraphale's joining him back at the flat.
That's right. Aziraphale. Back at the flat. Alone...with him.
"Isn't this perfect?"
Correction--alone, and fidgety, and having the sense of
(still existing in Their crosshairs)
getting rolled off of the white cliffs of Dover in a barrel so large, it can carry both himself and half a dozen wasps’ nests, thus making the chance of being stung at least once rise by at least 600%.
And wouldn’t he know it, all of those imaginary wasps are just dying to start a row with him.
"Nh...what now?"
Not that ‘Zira’s noticed yet, though
(”zira”? of all of the nicknames available on Earth, you go with zira?)
, because he’s too busy marveling at the blessed absence of greenhouse gasses. Yeah. No pollution equals no Pollution, and that means the entire Human race can breathe.
"The outdoors, Crowley! The weather! Oh, it's almost as if someone's keeping the storms away, just for us..."
But can all of this be considered too bloody perfect, though...? Is it really all that much of a good thing that he’s opening the car door for Aziraphale right now, here, with seemingly no other Angels or Demons around to sabotage things? Are they really on their way to enjoy just one more drink, and maybe also a good deal of planning for the future besides? Is this really the first trouble-free day in his existence, never mind zero days since he went up to the surface, and never planned to return?
Or is one of them poised to drop the spiritual equivalent of mop water onto his path tomorrow, and not bother putting up a single wet floor sign...?!
"Right. Us. Yeah, really good..."
The Car seems to disagree with this sentiment, because It doesn’t hesitate to offer up ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’ as ambiance. Apparently, It is more than prepared to leave, and just might be willing to go a mite slower than 120 miles per hour so as not to ruin the moment.
Traitor.
Apparently, It's also not thinking twice about nudging him along as well, because as soon as Aziraphale's comfortably seated, It wiggles the corresponding door in order to rope him into closing it.
"...I just...can't handle it, this thing, called love..."
He does, of course, but not without those waspish-thoughtish-things taking a lap or two around his track of consciousness.
They're about to indulge in just one more drink, and maybe also a good deal of planning for the future besides.
Their future.
Together.
It's these many factors that should be adding up to the first trouble-free day in his life. Zero days since he went up to the surface, and never planned to return.
"...It swings, it jives, it shakes all over like a jellyfish..."
Unfortunately, he's not yet done looking over his own shoulder. He can still see those flies buzzing around the lawns, even as he's turning the old key into the ignition. Their flies. They're probably not done with him after all, even though he's expecting to be sacked any time now. Maybe They're somewhere out there right now, just waiting for him to turn around before They decide to go for the bloody jugular. And yet--
"Oh, my--do you see the size of that cloud?"
--And yet, apparently, They don’t seem to be alone in Their continued attempts to screw up his existence. Oh, no, They were just getting started. Only this time, They've decided to drag in a bit of extra muscle, because of course, They would be the ones to unofficially arrange an official rematch.
Well, well, well.
Little did any of Them know that he wasn't going to be taken by surprise a second time.
"A cloud. Seriously. Is that all You've got?"
"Well, I'm not in charge of the weather, so I imagine that--wait, what?!"
Ha. He knew exactly how to deal with "clouds", never mind pillars of fire, pillars of salt, disembodied voices, talking donkeys, the sudden onset of blindness, speechlessness, accidental deaths, beheadings, and on rare occasions, the unexpected insane king or emperor.
In other words, it would take so much more than one meteorological anomaly to take him down, thank Nobody very much.
"Hold on tight, angel. It's about to become really bumpy..."
In fact, if his inferences were correct, and Somebody on either side was thinking of waving another Great Flood or Bubonic Plague in his direction to try and steer him off course...then it just might be time for that Somebody to learn a very, very tough lesson.
Nobody. Interrupts. The alcohol.
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#aziraphale#anthony j crowley#go aziraphale#go anthony j. crowley#autistic aziraphale#autistic anthony j crowley#actuallyautistic#good omens: sanctuary#aziracrow#minors DNI.
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Pokemon oc fic ideas
I’m putting this here so I can dump it from my head. it’s literally just an excuse to write about a trainer with a Cubone as a partner because I love Cubone. Gonna tag @arrthurpendragon because of her interest on my initial post. This fic has no title as of yet but I’m leaning towards just calling it Sunrise Sanctuary after the name of my OC’s home. Anyway!
Her name’s Skylar Daniels (last name not concrete) and she lives in Capri City, a city smack dab in the center of the “Four Corners”, Viridian City, Pewter City, Cerulean City, and Celadon City. (Capri City does not exist, I made it up. I considered Spectrum City as a play off Pallet Town but that sounds a bit too cheesy?)
She lives in the suburbs where she and her father, Zenith, run Sunrise Sanctuary, a foster and rescue home for abandoned, hurt, neglected, and disabled Pokemon. Their goal is to help the pokemon find their forever homes. It also doubles as a foster home for children as Zenith is a foster parent. Visitors and travelers can find a bed and a hot meal if the Pokemon Center is full.
The foster children and pokemon are given tasks to help keep Sunrise Sanctuary running because it is a non-profit organization. The Danielses get money to keep their doors open from donations and grants.
They bring some of the smaller Pokemon to schools and hospitals to bring awareness to their organization and, also, to give kids and those who are sick a chance to brighten their spirits in times of stress.
I’m not sure about her mother yet, whether she’s alive or just gone. She’s either going to be named Aura or Tempest. (Sense a theme here?) Maybe she was or is a Nurse Joy. Idk yet.
Zenith had dreams to become a Pokemon Master but switched his goals after a chance encounter with a Growlithe that was left after a hit-and-run. Growlithe recovered but ended up with paralyzed back legs. Zenith created a wheelchair for his Growlithe and gave him back his lease on life. They’ve been partners ever since.
Skylar is Zenith’s sixteen-year-old biological daughter and his right-hand man. She keeps stock and inventory on all the supplies and essentials needed for the kids and pokemon alike and runs their adoption and meet-n-greet events. She dreams of winning a Pokemon Contest with one of her foster pokemon not only to bring awareness but to show that the forgotten pokemon have a lot to offer when given support.
Cubone comes to them having been abandoned on their front porch. Initially angry and standoffish, Skylar ends up earning Cubone’s respect when she stays up at night with him one day when he was having a nightmare about his deceased mother.
Skylar also is close fwith her Vaporeon, who tends to flop and “melt” down into a blob when she doesn’t want to do things such as getting her medication (yes, this is directly inspired by this tumblr post.)
Like Todd, Skylar is a hobbyist pokemon photographer but she’s the sort to put them in poses and photograph them for modeling, adoption, and family photo purposes.
Skylar is paired with Ritchie (because I can’t write an OC and not have a ship behind it), whom she spends a lot of time trying to get him to stop being so analytical and by-the-numbers when it comes to his life and his plans. As she tends to point out, anything can happen at any moment that could throw him off his plans and sometimes he needs to be a bit more spontaneous. The careful thought and care he puts into his pokemon is what attracts her to him, the two meeting over time from the age of ten because he makes it a point to stop at Sunrise Sanctuary during his travels. It helps that his hometown, Frodomar City, is about a one-day walk away.
And that’s all I got so far but I’m excited about it!
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FFXIV Write2023, Prompt 25: Call it a day.
Sleeping with Senri wouldn't be for everyone.
And it was a matter of just sleeping and not any kind of innuendo. In fact, sharing a bed - or rather a nest in their case - with famed Warrior of Light was most reminiscent of falling into an embrace of an overheated and especially clingy octopus.
Perhaps not most favorable comparison, however very fitting.
Truly, they were insanely lucky that Raha happened to love everything about it, otherwise the situation might have been a tad awkward.
Perhaps it spawned from a fact that since he was little kit, Raha was the only one who EVER shared Senri’s space when sleeping. For obvious - miserable - reasons, his Snark was especially touchy about his sleeping arrangements and wouldn't suffer anyone within his touching distance when vulnerable. His nest, piled of blankets made for him by his beloved mother, for Senri was his sanctuary - and not even any of his friends was welcomed within it - no matter circumstances.
...but going back to 'clingy octopus'...
Raha, quite opposite to his lover, tended to be rather a morning person. While during his vigil on First he scarcely slept at all, he developed a habit of making rounds about Crystarium at dawn. After decades, it became so ingrained in his nature, even after returning to the Source he found that he tended to wake up along the rising sun.
Senri, completely on the other side of the spectrum and true to their half-feline nature, if allowed would happily doze away until noon - and again - play the octopus while doing so.
He very much enjoyed wrapping his much bigger - and heavier - form around Raha in a way that made sneaking out of their nest extremely difficult - and being a spoiled beast - tended to get grumpy if 'unneccesirly' awoken without a good reason.
...which Raha found adorable, but on an occasion also aggravating.
If he happened to have something planned for a morning that didn't involve his husband, eventually he invented a number of ways how to 'free' himself.
The easiest, of course, was asking Ares for assistance, if Senri’s Ancient had to be usually bribed to cooperate. And though Ares considered the whole thing hilarious, if he did cooperate, Senri was bound to grumble at him instead of Raha. Funnily enough, the usual bribe consisted of promise of sweets - and Raha could easily figure where from his Snark had such a weakness for those.
He rarely turned to that, though, because it was bound to make Damon snicker for a good while, which was quite distracting. You can only do so much while someone is rolling over from laughter or gushing in the back of your shared head, right?
More satisfying, obviously, was waking up Senri in a way that was sure to placate his beautiful beast. After a 'proper' roll in the nest, so to say, Senri was welcoming a day in best mood (so was he) but considering his Warrior was literally insatiable (again, so was he) but it was also quite time consuming.
Usually, that route meant that anyway Raha would be out of their nest about noon. Still, that was the most often how their mornings went.
And sometimes, surrounded by his lover’s heat and sweet scent, he called it a day, and let Senri doze - enjoying his snore-purrs too much to even think to mind a snag in his plans. Often in those early bells, closing his eyes and letting his sensitive hearing pick up the sounds of their 'housemates' begin their day, he would sent a silent prayer in thanks to every god willing to listen to the rhythm of Senri’s even heartbeat against his back.
For his overheated, clingy octopus, he thanked the most.
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