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#have to do This for my aunt have to ask if I can do This for my mother gotta
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No Going Back - Lewis Hamilton
Switching Team pt 2
Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut, coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks, gaslighting, parental intervention, baby trapping
I actually think I love this part waaaaay more than the first part 🥵
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"I'm not saying I've influenced you, but you're style has certainly changed recently." Lewis smirks snapping the waistband of the fishnet tights she's wearing. "I'm not sure I like these...they're another thing getting in my way to you."
"Oh." Y/n chokes as she feels his finger tips catching the thread of the fishnets before he manages to rip them. "Lewis..."
"They look nice, but I don't want any more challenges for access to that amazing pussy, ok?" Lewis smirks then managing to rip her panties off following that. "And since you're going to see your dad and Susie. There is one extra thing I want you to be wearing."
Lewis all but impales y/n down on himself in one swift and surprisingly smooth motion, a loud moan from the sudden pressure and fullness falling past her lips. He pulls her legs up and begins pounding up into her, thrusting with a mission to make sure she's thinking only about him the whole time.
He's not aiming for her to orgasm, only chasing his own and wanting to make sure she's left wanting him. He'll have her back from Toto again in no time.
When she innocently mentioned dinner at home with the family, he knew what it would really turn into. But he's not going to lose her, or specifically he's not going to lose to Toto.
That man has caused enough loss in his career, he won't be allowing y/n to be another thing he takes from him.
Lewis groans holding her down on him. She's still getting used to his size, not that he's certain it's actually something she can get used to but she doesn't look quite so uncomfortable as she did the first time.
He can feeling himself twitching and practically pouring into her as if he's never came so much in his life.
"I'm going to be late." Y/n whispers trying to get up. "I have to clean up."
"No, I want you leaking right there in front of him."
"Lewis-"
"Y/n." Lewis states sternly more than aware that he's being mean, but y/n will be doing as he says. "And if you're good and come back without having tried to clean up. Then I'll finish what I started since you didn't finish."
-
Y/n shifts feeling gravity work fall too effectively with Lewis' reminder of himself while she sees her dad and Susie.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Susie asks actually always having tried to maintain as close a connection with her husband's daughter as possible.
"Yes. Oh yes. I was just...well I was wondering what this is all about? As much as dinner is nice, last time we had it all together was to tell me that an aunt had died." Y/n smiles awkwardly while crossing her leg to try and force some slowing of the cum leaking out of her.
"Do we need a reason to want to see you when you've been so absent?" Toto questions making her wince a little, his tone is so cold and cutting that even Susie gives him a sharp look.
"Toto." Susie warns since there is a reason and she prefers not to treat y/n, as innocent and sheltered as she is, like an idiot.
"Y/n, we think you should stop seeing Lewis. He is only using you to hurt me. He is being disgusting in the way he is using you and I think you deserve better." Toto states making y/n look at him dumbfound.
"W-What do you mean?" Y/n questions making Toto sigh at her.
"Lewis wants revenge for things I have said about him."
"I don't think that Lewis would use me like that." Y/n argues with a frown, tears welling in her eyes making Susie step in since she can see feelings are getting hurt quickly.
"Y/n, your dad cares about you. He wouldn't lie for no reason." Susie states smiling sadly. "Lewis and your dad aren't close like they used to be and your dad has made some regrettable comments that hurt Lewis' feelings. A lot. He seems to be using you as a means to hurt your dad and we just think that's not a nice thing for you. That's all."
"Well you're wrong." Y/n frowns standing up and making the chair screech. "Lewis treats me with love and that's more than I can ever say I got from my own dad. So-So fuck you both for trying to get in the way of me actually being treated right and for being happy."
"Y/n, please. sit down. We need to talk more about this." Toto states but y/n is already grabbing her bags and wiping at tears, her body does whip around at his words.
"No! You have been the worst dad to me! Isolated me, homeschooled me while never being here! Then leaving me at home while you marry someone new and start another family to leave me out of! I want a family who treat me right and Lewis seems to be the first step in getting that." Y/n snaps before storming out from there.
Susie sighs looking at Toto with an expression which just screams "I told you so" because she knew this outcome of this attempted intervention would only fall on deaf ears.
"If you ever want her back, you will have to do much more than that."
"I don't know if Lewis will let that happen. He's got in her head."
Susie sighs again leaning back then nodding as she rubs his back gently.
"I'll arrange for something so I can speak to her alone. Clearly you are not her favourite person." Susie mumbles then patting his back.
Meanwhile y/n is standing outside the front door hiccuping and crying while calling Lewis for help.
Of course Lewis saw this coming a mile off from when he dropped her off to begin with and was waiting only 20 minutes before the call came and he answered promising to be there within 10 minutes.
He pulls up them private drive and parks up in front of the house knowing he's in full view if Toto decides to look out a window. Something he intends to take full advantage of.
"Oh baby." Lewis sighs opening his door to find the young woman's bloodshot eyes and tearstained cheeks. "Come here."
He moves the seat back giving her space to climb in with his guidance, making sure she's straddling him.
"They said you're using me to hurt my dad."
"That's ridiculous." Lewis scoffs then tracing his finger up her open thighs. "I know what with make you feel better."
Lewis hadn't intended initially to make the plan of getting y/n pregnant but then the thought of how toto would react struck him and now he can't think of anything better and with y/n none the wiser it's easy. Too easy since apparently her homeschooling never taught her sex education beyond basic biology. She knows more about the structure of a sperm cell than how to prevent them from getting inside her.
Fucking her in her dad's driveway was a spontaneous thought but the knowledge that she obediently did as she was told when it came to not touching his cum
"L-Lewis." Y/n panics when he pulls out his dick.
"I need you now baby." Lewis states making her swallow looking out the window only for his hand to come up forcing her head to turn back to him, looking at him. "They don't matter, it's just you and me."
-
There was a big statement made at the next race when y/n showed up in a short velvet red dress with red Mary Jane heels as Lewis wore a black suit adorning a matching red shirt, both in the perfect Ferrari red. Matching black sunglasses as they both walked with a stride that let everyone know the power they hold as couple.
Sure Lewis really holds 99% of the power, but y/n being there in all red is significant. Plus they just look stunning together.
Swarms of cameras surrounded them and y/n was actual turning pink from all the attention, her hand tightening her hold on Lewis' hand making her squeeze it since he doesn't actually want her to feel scared. Especially in this moment.
Y/n hasn't spoken to Toto since their meal that was cut very short. Susie has contacted her and even tried speaking some sense into Lewis but that was met with no avail.
It's not so much a surprise when Susie appears walking up to y/n since this is an F1 Academy weekend too.
"Y/n." Susie smiles, actually being greeted with a hug from the young woman. "You look gorgeous."
"Thank you." Y/n smiles before feeling Lewis' hand squeeze her own in warning of not playing too nicely.
"Y/n invited me to come to the F1 Academy race as he plus 1 if that's ok." Lewis states testing Susie to see if she'll prove herself a threat.
"You're always welcome, we appreciate your support." Susie assures him but the strain behind her eyes tells him that she's not really eager for him to be there. "I'm sure Ferrari's drivers appreciate your support."
"We have to go." Lewis states guiding y/n ahead of him into the Ferrari unit where Susie had caught them just before stepping onto the little path going through the courtyard style outdoor area each unit has.
-
"Lewis, we don't usually speak about gossip or relationships. But there has to be some verbal confirmation. Are you dating y/n Wolff?" A reporter asks looking in awe of the fact they're even asking.
The rest of the drivers are a mixture of smirks and curiosity, some avoiding looking at the 7 time champ, some looking at him awaiting the confirmation.
"Yes." Lewis nods keeping it short and sweet but the smirk on his face speaks enough for much more to be apparent.
"And given how things have been with Toto since last season, how does he feel?"
"I don't think Toto's feelings about it mean much to either of us. It's not his relationship. Though he might be mistaken to think he gets a say." Lewis shrugs earning some audible gasps and laughs from both on the sofa with him and around the room.
"Right. Thank you." The report mumbles clearly in shock.
After the press conference, Lewis walks to watch the F1 Academy practice where y/n is still adorned in her all red outfit, smiling as she stands on the pit wall.
"Hello, beautiful." Lewis greets making her turn with a grin while Susie is a lot less happy to see him. "Susie."
"Lewis." Susie hums clearly trying to make sure she doesn't lose y/n too.
"Lewis, these cars are so cute. It's a shame they don't really go as fast as the rest of the feeder series. But I think it kind of adds to the entertainment." Y/n grins earning a hum as he catches her in a prolonged and heavy kiss, just making sure Susie knows y/n might not see her as a problem but he certainly won't be mistaking her as anything other than a means of Toto still having a way to y/n.
He's aware that Toto caught sight of y/n and Lewis having sex in Lewis' car on his drive in front of the house. Toto made sure to message about his outrage, though he did try calling. Lewis declined calls for both his and y/n's phones and with y/n being really in the palm of his hand. He was able to block Toto's number from her phone entirely.
But eventually y/n breaks the kiss. "How was the press conference?"
"Mmm...boring, they did ask about us though."
"They did?" Y/n asks looking genuinely surprised, as if they haven't seen broadcast clips of their entrance on replay on most of the screens around the paddock meaning that the rest of the world has been subject to seeing it too.
"Yeah, and now the world is aware of your relationship status." Lewis smirks catching her in another heavy but shorter kiss. "I didn't think you'd mind."
"N-No, I don't mind."
"Good."
-
Safe to say headlines were out before the F1 Academy race was over and Lewis was relishing in seeing it all. Many of them theorised that Lewis was using y/n as a means to anger Toto and while they're right. He certainly won't be confirming that.
But he will be feeding all the content by dressing y/n exclusively in all red from here forward.
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let's pretend that this is the right timeline because what if Dick becomes Batman at the same time when Wally becomes The Flash?
let's also say that this is just like the Justice League animated series wherein the League members don't know each member's identities (except of course Bruce, he knows everybody).
how funny would it be if Dick and Wally are together and the rest of the League are confused because all of a sudden Batman and Flash are close like super close? i mean they have witnessed how Flash gets intimidated by Batman. now, that's not the case anymore.
during a meeting:
Hal, leaning to John during a League meeting, whispers: I'm not losing my mind, right?
John, whispers back: I think I know what you mean.
Hal: Why is Flash making heart eyes to Bats????
John: I know??? Flash doesn't even look him in the eyes before.
Hal: That's so odd, dude.
Batman glances at the two Green Lanterns which makes them shut up.
meanwhile, across the table, Martian Manhunter has a light smile on his lips and Superman covers his laugh with a cough.
-
at the cafeteria:
Ollie: Hey, Dinah. Have you noticed something unusual between Batman and Flash lately?
Dinah: It is quite unusual, huh? I was talking to Hawkgirl the other day and she said she saw Flash bridal carry Bats.
Ollie: What the actual fu-
Flash, approaches the couple's table with a big bowl of nachos on his hand: Hey, guys! Mind if I sit with you?
Ollie and Dinah give a knowing look at each other. a conversation they definitely will finish later.
-
during in an another planet mission:
Batman, after announcing everyone's partners for the mission:... And lastly, I will pair up with Flash in today's mission.
Flash grins widely, that has Arthur thinking his cheeks might be hurting after that.
Arthur: Yeah, yeah. At this point, we already know, Bats!
the Green Lanterns, along with Captain Marvel and Booster Gold, snicker at his comment.
Batman ignores Arthur's comment and the rest of the members scatter to their assigned locations.
Victor, who was paired with Arthur: Was gonna give that comment too.
Arthur: It's like they are inseparable all of a sudden.
Victor, shakes his head: Well, I have seen weirder things.
-
in the meeting hall:
Wonder Woman, pulls Batman in the corner of the room: Okay, that's enough. You are truly ignoring me. What is going on with you lately?
Batman: Did the rest of the League put you up to this?
Wonder Woman, has her hands on her hips: They didn't need to. So, tell me. And don't you ever lie to me, I can see right through you, Batman.
Batman, sighs: It's hard for me to explain. I can't-I can't tell you right now.
Wonder Woman: Hera! Now, Bru-Batman.
before Batman responses, the door of the meeting hall opens and in comes Robin with his katana. the conversations between the League members come to a stop as they stare at the young hero.
Robin, glances at everyone, before approaching Flash: I need help with an important matter.
Flash, smiles and ruffles Robin's hair, as if that's second nature: Of course, little dude.
Hal, stands up from his seat: THAT'S IT! Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on????
Ollie, stands up with him: Are we in another dimension that I don't know about?????
Dinah pulls Ollie down by his arm to make him sit again.
the rest of the League members start to converse against each other.
Superman, floats a bit from his seat: Why don't we all settle down? There's nothing to be alarmed about.
Robin, shakes his head: Tt. Absolute fools.
by the time Bruce and Barry are back:
-
Bruce, pinches the bridge of his nose: Chum, you could at least be discreet with Wally.
Dick: It's not my fault, B! I swear I was going to explain to Aunt Diana then Dami entered the room.
Damian: Tt. Don't blame me, Grayson. Why don't you lecture West on how to be more responsible? He left me on read when I asked help for my Science project.
Dick, sighs: And what about Timmy? He could have helped.
Damian: I don't want anything to do with Drake.
Bruce massages his temples as he feels a headache coming up.
-
Barry: Wally!!!!
Wally, zooms right in front of Barry: I couldn't help it, okay?? Dick is just irresistible.
Iris giggles as she prepares the table for dinner.
Barry, sighs: That's alright. I'll talk to Bats on how we can explain it to the team.
Wally, grins and sits down by the table: It was hard not to laugh at them. They were so confused.
Barry, chuckles: I'm sure Hal's expression was the funniest.
Wally, laughs: You have no idea, Uncle Barry.
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hp-hcs · 2 days
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phantasm (remember?) — mattheo riddle x gn! hella manipulative! reader
phantasm noun noun: phantasm; plural noun: phantasms
LITERARY a figment of the imagination; an illusion or apparition.
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warnings: minor character death, murder, severe manipulation, gaslighting, blink-and-you-miss-it reference to self harm,❗️stand-alone/no part two❗️
is he schizophrenic, high, or haunted? you decide!
❕it’s supposed to be confusing!!! you should finish reading this and be like “what the fuck did i just read”, alr?❕
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Mattheo Riddle had always been odd. Everyone knew that.
Maybe it had something to do with his parents. One Crucio from his father too many, perhaps. 
Maybe he hit his head when he was younger. That wasn’t too much of a stretch. He’d always been quite reckless. 
But either way, no one could pinpoint what event caused Mattheo to see things that weren’t really there. 
~~~
It first came to light when Mattheo, staying the night at his cousin’s house for a sleepover at the tender age of five, stomped over to his Aunt Narcissa to tattle.
“They pushed me down th’ stairs, Aunt Cissy!” he whined, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “See? I even skinned my knee!”
“Who did? Draco?”
“No, Y/n!”
~~~
Mattheo couldn’t remember much about the Janus Thickey ward. 
He’d spent a month there when he was six, but didn’t have a single memory of his time there. Just vague flashes that haunted his nightmares, but ones that he could never remember once he woke. 
Narcissa remembered though. And so did Draco. 
The Malfoys both remember visiting Mattheo in the hospital, Draco clutching Mattheo’s stuffed dragon under one arm and holding onto the string of a “Get Well Soon!” mylar balloon in his other hand, only for the pair to find Mattheo hiding under his bed and mumbling to himself, furiously scratching at his arms and crying. 
The Malfoys remember. 
~~~
Mattheo couldn’t remember if you had always been there, or if you just showed up one day. 
There were a lot of things Mattheo couldn’t remember. 
~~~
“Who can tell me what a boggart is?” Professor Moody asked, pacing the front of the room with his odd, uneven gait. An old antique armoire stood near the front of the room, a large area around it cleared of the usual clutter that filled every inch of the classroom. 
Surprising absolutely nobody, Granger’s hand shot up. 
Mattheo shot a look over to his cousin, rolling his eyes, while Draco smothered a laugh in response.
“A boggart is a creature that takes on the form of one’s greatest fear, sir,” Granger said in that obnoxious know-it-all tone of hers. “No one knows what their true forms are.”
“One’s greatest fear, sir,” Mattheo mocked under his breath to Draco in a purposefully bad imitation of Granger. 
“Ah, Riddle. How nice of you to volunteer. Step on up, boy.” Moody’s hand came down on Mattheo’s shoulder from behind him, gripping it firmly. “Go on. Grab your wand.”
Mattheo’s face drained of color. Surely Moody wouldn’t…?
No, it’s Mad-Eye Moody. Of course he’d do something like this. 
Mattheo stood on shaking legs, gulping as he approached the ominously placed armoire. 
Everyone watched with rapt attention. 
What was Mattheo Riddle afraid of?
The Dark Lord? Dumbledore?
Or something more benign, like spiders or small spaces?
Whatever it was, Mattheo’s fellow students were not expecting a teenager to step out of the armoire. 
Maybe fourteen at the most, unassuming, wearing…Riddle’s quidditch jersey?
They weren’t a student, that was for sure. Nobody in the room recognized them.
(Except for the one poor bastard whose boggart it was.)
Professor Moody narrowed his eyes at the boggart, his gaze quickly shifting between the harmless-looking teen and the literal son of the Dark Lord, the latter of which was frozen stiff with fear, his wand threatening to slip from his quivering fingers at any moment.
The boggart tilted its head and smiled.
~~~
Is this how Potter feels, when Father’s inside his head?
Mattheo sat uncomfortably across from Professor Moody, the professor’s desk being the only thing separating them.
The professor said nothing, merely observing Mattheo. A bizarre enchanted cuckoo clock on the wall trumpeted like an elephant, signaling the hour, then returned to its steady tick tick tick.
“Mr. Riddle, do you ever hear…voices? Voices that maybe…encourage you to do bad things?”
Mattheo was sweating. How did he know about you? How?
“He’s just trying to get in your head, Mattheo,” you murmured, sitting next to him in the other armchair. “That’s all.”
Was it? Mattheo wondered. 
“Y’know, I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s in my head,” he said softly. “Nobody else thinks you’re real.”
Your face soured. “You think I’m not real? That I don’t exist? Huh? He’s lying to you! He’s a liar and a manipulator!”
“Just get out of my head!” Mattheo pleaded quietly. “Please!”
You fumed, jumping up to sit on the edge of Moody’s desk. You swung your legs back and forth, an angry expression marring your features. “Matty-”
“Stop calling me that!” he snapped. “Just go away! Leave me alone!”
“But you’re my best friend, Matty,” you insisted innocently. 
“We are not friends!”
You sighed dramatically as you laid down on the desk, putting the back of your hand up to your forehead—as if pretending to faint—as you did so. “Then what are we, Matty? Paramours? Estranged lovers?”
“Enemies,” he hissed, his knuckles white with how tightly he was clenching his fists. 
“Well, I have always loved the enemies to lovers trope,” you said breezily, smirking at him. “Besides, you haven’t got anyone else. Admit it. I’m all you have.”
Moody watched Mattheo have his one-sided conversation with wide eyes, unsure of what was happening. “Mr. Riddle? Are you alright? Wh-who are you talking to?”
“See?” You clicked your tongue, shaking your head slowly. “He thinks you’re crazy.”
“There are many talented healers that I could contact–”
Mattheo’s gaze kept darting between you and Moody as his breathing picked up. 
“Bet he wants to send you back to Janus Thickey,” you whispered, purposefully turning your voice soft and fearful, blinking back fake tears. “I don’t want to disappear again, Mattheo, please.”
“I–” Mattheo stammered, dread creeping up his spine at the thought of being alone again. 
“Please?” you begged. “You know what to do. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it.”
“He– what? No!”
“But he wronged you,” you whisper softly, your tone manipulative and gentle. “He deserves to suffer.”
“Stop it!” Mattheo pleaded again, reflexively drawing his wand and pointing it at you. 
“He wronged you,” you repeated, eyes narrowing. 
“Stop!”
“He deserves to suffer.”
“Shut up!”
“He wronged you.”
“Y/n!”
“He deserves–”
“Avada Kedavra!”
You both fell silent, your argument abruptly cut off with the resounding thunk of Moody’s body hitting the floor. 
Dead. 
~~~
“Oh my Merlin– y-you killed someone!” Mattheo panicked, dropping his wand and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. 
“Oh, no no no, Matty. I didn’t kill anyone,” you said sweetly, examining your nails apathetically. “You did.”
“I’ll tell everyone,” Mattheo threatened through his quivering lower lip. “I will. I’ll tell them it was you.”
“Who’s going to believe you?” you cooed, your voice dripping in saccharine sweetness as you leaned forward to tousle his hair. 
Mattheo flinched back. 
You laughed, patting his cheek as you hopped off the desk. “Come find me when you’re ready to help me with my next…project.”
“Y-you planned this?”
“Duh.” You rolled your eyes. “Catch up, love. You’re not stupid.”
With that, you stand up on tiptoe, plant a fat kiss on his cheek, and disappear out the door without another word. 
Mattheo swore he could see bloody footprints marking your trail down the hall. 
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leidensygdom · 2 days
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ENNU EPILOGUE RECAP!!
OKay! So, our campaign ended! Yesterday was the 81 session, and last one of it- Our DM did a wonderful job at running it. We basically got to ask them for the scenes we'd like to see, and the session was built around that. It's been three years, so it was wild to see it come to an end! Here's a recap tho (a lil bit more focused on my blorbos since they're the ones you know)
The epilogue happened two years after the campaign's end, with a couple of flashbacks going some time back
First scene was welcoming Blasma (one of the party members), who had been on a trip all this time to heal her soul at her grandpa's dubious laboratory. She's pretty okay currently- if we ignore soul healing is something theoretically impossible. Probably many questionable things happened there. Osten traveled with her to make sure she was doing okay
Next scene was her welcoming party. A bunch of shenanigans happened. Yxala tried so play cool aunt, got her a motorbike. They ended in somewhat odd terms and my girl was trying so bad to get her trust again
Pulsar and Tephra- each polycule's kids- appeared to be overall terribly adorable. Yxala talked a lot about her Sweet Potato. Tephra is Yxala and Relé's biological kiddo (as evidenced by the branched horns), 6 months old, and just one of these big hefty babies who is starting to munch on everything (here's a token of baby her, and what she's like grown up!)
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we also got to see the closure of Mythannae, Yden and Jorven's polycule! Myth and Yden recovered their enchanted clothing business. They specialize in magical clothing adapted to specific needs- Like fireproof clothing for fire genasi, helmets with bag-of-holding like pockets so you can put them on with horns, that stuff. Jorven has now been working on music again. (For context, Myth was my previous character before I switched for Yxala!)
Blasma's player also had an epilogue for his previous character- she's a tired old lady, who is now joining another tired old lady to get in politics. An improvement, given they were cops before that
Centi got to resurrect the weird celestial wife of an old teacher of hers- Who had been snatched up by Sol Ascensus and transformed into a monster. I can't wait to show Niereva to y'all tho, she's a bit of a weird aminal (a mantis/naga-like aasimar)
She may have done a fucked up pact with a psychopomp tho-
We had Yxala's, Relent's and Uri's wedding, we knew that was coming! It took Urion a long while to recover from after the Deep Lab, and they still struggle a lot with that they did as The Onirist
We had a scene of Urion's recovery. Initially they didn't even want to come to terms with being Urion- They were The Onirist. Relé had a hard time forgiving them too, bc they DID hurt Relent a lot. Yxala was a bit more fine about it, even after having her heart carved out by them.
they're all going to therapy lol
There's actually a cult to The Onirist/Ataraxia now though! Some people loved the idea of a godly machine that could solve everyone's hurts and ailments, and they're asking for them to come back and fix the world. maybe the mind control microchips were fine, y'know
(uri isn't doing great about this)
We had the ceremony- Money and seeds are given to the partners as a sign of prosperity and life. They're gonna have a great garden.
The polycule drank (alcohol-free) wine imbued with each other's blood too bc ceremonies there go hard- (this one is seen as a bit more archaic)
And a major exchange between marrying partners is expected. They exchanged basses- They had them custom made many decades ago, with Urion's being based on clouds (after Relé), Relé's being based on fire (after Yxala), and Yxala's being based on bismuth crystals (after Uri's). Now Uri has the fiery bass, Relé has the bismuth one, and Yxala has the cloudy bass
Urion was the bassist for Demonwire, a group they were a part of with some other anarchist friends. This bass has a very long history and it's very significative. Yxala was a bit shocked.
After that, the wedding after-party took place. Blasma set a date with Osten- They didn't actually get romantically involved up until now (and it's probably gonna be very slow still gfhudhdgf)
I forgot to mention this but Urion and Relent are now involved with an organization to help the people who were affected by the Deep Lab and The Onirist's actions. Uri had a very awkward interview about it.
We had few other closure scenes here and there. Finding out two other npcs are marrying, the fact the weird undead guy somehow has a new kid, that stuff- and then we went onto the final one
Which was a concert by Demonwire. Urion played with them for the first time in 12 years, and gave an awkward speech, and it was super sweet and just a great point to end the campaign in!
With that, we're now set to go play the next campaign- Which will happen 8 years after this epilogue (ten years after the end of the major campaign events). I'm going to be playing Siegmund, one of Yxala's kids, and I'm very excited for that.
Yxala won't be doing any major stuff- She's gonna still go fight corpos in the streets and she's going back to the Mecha Derby (did y'all know she was a mecha pilot in a sports competition lmao. I'm working on her pilot fit, it's cool!). Urion is going to be back on Demonwire, mostly to raise funds for those hurt by The Onirist and Ataraxia, and will have a bigger role coming up- Specially given Siegmund's (and Vyxander, his twin) have a lot to do with that. Relent will also be doing some major stuff, but it will remain spoilery for a time. He's got some big things to handle!
I may have cried a bit at the end because it's been so long. I'm glad the characters won't be fully gone. Next campaign will have a lot more lore stuff to gush about- We're going to adventure outside the city, and meet people from all over the world. There's a country that uses souls in place of nuclear fission. It's gonna be wild! (And thank you for reading-)
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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4
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ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!
Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.
What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.
But two could play that game.
Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)
Word Count: 4590
Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)
Taglist - comment or message to be added!
Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)
< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >
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PART 1: Chapter 4
Unconditional Violence.
Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)
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New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.
You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.
You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.
It always does.
When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.
And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.
Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.
The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.
“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.
All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”
He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”
Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.
“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”
Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”
The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”
You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”
He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.
--
New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.
There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.
But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.
Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.
So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.
You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.
“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”
All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.
Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.
You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.
Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.
On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.
Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.
“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.
Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.
Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.
Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.
Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.
Extroverted people.
Yeesh.
At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.
Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.
Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.
“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”
Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.
Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.
Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.
The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.
This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.
Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.
You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.
Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.
“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”
You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”
Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”
Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.
--
Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.
Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.
The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.
“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”
During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.
Looked like someone else was listening in too.
Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.
Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.
When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.
“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”
Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.
“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”
All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.
“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.
Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”
Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”
Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.
--
You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.
With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.
What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.
“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”
A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.
Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.
Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.
A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.
You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.
“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”
Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”
You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.
Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?
Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.
“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.
Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.
Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.
“Boudreaux.”
Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.
You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”
Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!”  he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.
Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.
“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.
Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”
You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”
The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”
Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.
“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.
You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.
“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”
Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.
The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.
“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”
Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)
I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!
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ryan-sometimes · 8 hours
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hi! you're the only biochemist i know so i have to ask this
my aunt recently got really into this holistic-sounding thing called healing immunity by transfer factors, tied to a very fishy company, 4life. in my understanding, they're preying on the lack of scientific proof that something /doesnt/ work to convince people that it /does/, based on reports of 'clients' that miraculously healed from various conditions from minor allergies to literally cancer, as well as preventing/curing >autism< 💀 problem is, she totally believes this bulshit and is giving them tons of money and trying to get the whole family to try it too
as a biochemist, I was wondering if you ever stumbled across transfer factors, know about any recent research on this field, or know the scientific explanation for why this is a load of baloney
thank you!
I’m familiar with transfer factors. A transfer factor is a chemical compound (often a protein) that is taken from an organism after it develops immunity against a disease. It’s part of immune cell signaling- it’s how your immune cells talk to each other.
But that’s the issue with pseudoscience. Oftentimes, they take something that has a small fraction of truth to it and then completely invent the rest.
Here’s the rest: transfer factors are often incredibly specific. So specific, in fact, that just two strains of the exact same bacteria could lead to two completely different factors being generated in response to them. Also, two different people infected by the exact same illness could generate different antibodies/transfer factors in response. Your immune system is as unique as your fingerprints.
Even if you took the antibodies/transfer factors from one person immune to a disease and injected them into someone currently afflicted by the disease, there’s no guarantee that it’ll make them immune as well. Cell signaling compounds are essentially words in the language your body uses to communicate with itself- and who knows if other people’s cells speak the same language?
For all you know, that transfer factor is telling your body something it might misunderstand completely. What if it “mishears” what that factor is trying to say? You could trigger an unwanted immune response! And that could potentially be even worse than just developing immunity naturally through exposure.
The field of transfer factors is still rudimentary- all of the real (actually scientific) research on injecting people with transfer factors to boost immunity is still very much in its experimental phase. Any company alleging to sell transfer factors to boost immunity is scamming you. Not even real medical companies are doing that yet, and if they could, they would. You know how money hungry pharmaceutical companies are.
Here’s one thing that’s certain: transfer factors cannot cure non immunity/infection related issues. Autism isn’t caused by a pathogen, how can your body develop an immune response to it when there’s nothing to fight? And regarding cancer, there’s already an existing field to treat cancer using your immune system: it’s called immunotherapy. And that will be given to you by a doctor, not some random company trying to sell glorified supplements. And for allergies? Get some antihistamines and an EpiPen.
The best way to boost your immune system is already available: vaccines. Vaccines prompt your body to make ITS OWN transfer factors and antibodies, which guarantees your cells will understand what those factors mean. And the transfer factors your body makes for itself will always be safer and more effective.
Real science beats pseudoscience.
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I'm trying to improve my writing and feel confused and worry over my punctation. Especially when it comes to dialogue tags and the use of semi-colons. They've always confused me. Is it alright to use a simile after a diagloue tag? So for example: "Of course I like ice-cream," he replies, like the answer was obvious.
Worried About Punctuation
Don't stress too much about punctuation. The whole reason we edit, polish, and have proof readers and editors is because being a writer doesn't necessarily mean you have a flawless grasp on punctuation.
Things you can do to improve your punctuation as you write:
-- use built-in punctuation checker in your writing program -- stop and Google the rule you're not sure about -- highlight/note the rule you're not sure about and check later -- ask someone who might know
Things you can do to improve your punctuation after writing:
-- Google things you're not sure about as you self-edit -- Use Strunk & White's or other punctuation book for help -- Use program like Grammarly or Pro-Writing Aid to edit -- Ask an eagle-eyed/educated friend to proofread for you -- Hire a proofreader or editor
Things you can do to learn better punctuation:
-- Google rules you're not sure about and fix yourself -- Read a punctuation guide like the one at Grammarly -- Purchase a punctuation book or workbook -- Watch punctuation explanation videos on YouTube
One last thing... just so you know, "like the answer was obvious" is not a simile. A simile is not any sentence containing "like" but rather a sentence comparing two seemingly unalike things using the words "like" or "as."
In the sentence "like the answer was obvious," nothing is being compared to something else. Rather, the sentence is saying "as though the answer was obvious."
Examples of a simile:
-- Her cheeks were like red tomatoes. -- His gaze was cold as ice. -- He was like a king peering out at his waiting subjects. -- The tension was thick as Aunt Betty's day-old brownies.
Having said that, yes, you can absolutely follow a dialogue tag with a simile:
-- "Of course I like ice-cream," he replies, his gaze cold as the scoop of mint chocolate chip on his cone.
And, you can also follow a dialogue tag with anything relevant to the dialogue:
-- "Of course I like ice-cream," he replies, like the answer was obvious.
I hope that helps!
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apopcornkernel · 16 hours
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been thinking too hard about my batman mob au. so i would like to share it. this is so long im sorry let me put it under a cut
i want to begin by saying that i think the only way bruce could feasibly become a mob boss is if he was able to be swayed to see that "clean" methods would genuinely do no good and in fact succeed in achieving more harm due to how much corruption and crime permeates the system. i think it would take a LOT to convince bruce of this, so he's kind of the hardest character to put in a mob au. however for the sake of fun we will suspend our disbelief a little bit!
okay, moving on, alfred: he's long been proven to be bruce's biggest enabler. i think he would get over it and end up helping him as he does as batman
as for dick: ooh boy. okay. so first of all i DO think bruce would let him kill zucco. however!! i think as dick grows up within the mob his strong code of morals will also begin to conflict with the lifestyle. but he's stuck there because bruce. insert all those posts about how dick grayson loves freedom and he also loves bruce and those things are at constant war with each other and because he loves bruce he sometimes clips his own wings. etc etc. i think he is the talia al ghul of this whole sitch if you get what i mean
speaking of talia!!! i believe her father would still be at odds with bruce bc yes, bruce is in crime, but bruce refuses to join with the league. so they semi-preserve their canon dynamic, except i think there's more opportunity for cooperation between talia and bruce considering talia's lexcorp era. in fact i do believe that lexcorp and waynecorp would become business allies during talia's time as ceo
but jason isn't dead. what his kidnappers hoped to do was turn him against his benefactor, taunt him about how it's been months and bruce still hasn't been able to save him, had refused to save him. but one night the door's left ajar and the sound of the TV drifts in, talking about how bruce is waging a bloody gang war, the first he's ever instigated, and jason... well. :)
as for jason—i think he would be the most loyal of the bunch. the first thing i actually dreamed up wrt this AU was a reimagining of ditf/utrh! in here, he's kidnapped by a rival gang. they demand bruce an impossible ransom, and bruce has no choice but to refuse. so bruce is sent a video of jason being killed.
"but poppy," you ask. "where's babs? tim? steph? cass? helena? jpv?" ok let's be real people aren't usually asking about the last 2 rip my babygirls BUT ANYWAYS—
the most important figure is HELENA. in the absence of batman, guess who's becoming the foremost protector of gotham??? EXACTLY. HELENA BERTINELLI. her whole backstory is that she wants to bring organized crime down SO WHO BETTER TO BE THE MAIN ENEMY IN A BATMAN MOB AU.
also because i love her.
im not biased i swear.
ALSO HER FIRST "ROBIN" (not necessarily named robin i just mean like. sidekick) IS JAMES COOPER FROM CAVALIERI'S HUNTRESS. CHUCK DIXON I HAVE NOT FORGIVEN YOU FROM ERASING HIM FROM MAIN CONTINUITY. he doesn't go out into the field that much bc he's still baby but he's the oracle before oracle. although when he does go into the field he's like. remember in cavalieri huntress where he was scurrying arohnd in the sewers and planting fucking grenades and shit. yeah.
later on he and babs will be best buddies <3 babs is his favorite aunt
ALSO!!! the rest of james' family will still be alive. idgaf. it's MY au and i can randomly reveal that his family has been alive all along IF I WANT TO. comic writers stop killing black people off for shock value challenge 2k24
also, james is ABSOLUTELY the one who wheedled helena into making a lair
babs does join the fray still! her story arc is mostly the same except that she partners with the huntress instead of batman. their ages are closer together so it's a slightly different dynamic
tim will remain a civilian. he will, however, be a very helpful civilian, in that he's the one who's stalking dick grayson & trying to prove that dick's involved in organized crime. him and dick will have the saddest tragickest "we could've been brothers. but not in this life. not ever." type of relationship. like jaderoy but platonic.
also tim & helena will have the same littlebrothernephew relationship that they have in canon 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
i guess jpv will get roped in in a similar way to canon, but the idea of bane doing what he did to helena makes me so so sad :( however since she is taking batman's narrative space in this story then i think it should still proceed. i will then also insert a little bit of the vichelena agenda here—
in the wake of bane, JPV WILL STILL STEP IN AS HUNTRESS. "but they'll know he's not a woman" COWARDS. just give him a dye job and he'll look like helena. all white people look the same. he can pad the fucking suit or he can get the fuck out.
as for steph, she will absolutely be a vigilante alongside the huntress. her father is still cluemaster, after all, so she'll follow a similar arc to canon except it's helena and not bruce that she'll develop a complex mentor relationship with!!
i think helena can see a little of herself in steph. i think part of helena envies steph's moral compass also. iirc at steph's age, helena still thought her mafia family was okay & that it was just the people who killed them that were bad. yet steph, who's half her age, has no such illusions about her father, and is already fighting to try and bring him down
cass!!!! cass will still come to gotham!!!!! i can't see a way for cass to be on bruce's side in this au simply bc of how strong her morals are. she killed a man and never ever wanted to kill again, even with shiva where it was kill or be killed, she had already made up her mind to let herself be killed in the end. so she is going to be on the vigilante side :]
also, it would be amazing for me personally if cass came to gotham during azbats (...azhuntress?) era. ohhh lord. a situation RIPE for incredible interactions
i still haven't read damian & duke comics properly yet so that's going to have to be added in the future. but that's what's been rattling around in my brain so far!
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daenaera-t · 2 days
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The Bastard Queen
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Chapter 2 Warning: None At The Moment
Summary: the children’s parentage is loudly out to question
The sun was bright, the chirping birds flying high up within the bright blue sky and near the clouds as they ignored anything that was happening down below them. In the fighting grounds within Red Keep, the royal children could be seen fighting makeshift dummies with wooden makeshift swords tight in their grips. Just a few feet away from the four boys , Daenaera sat on the stone cold steps while twirling a flower that her aunt, Princess Helena, had given to her earlier in the day.
Glancing up occasionally, the princess' dark eyes met Aegon's violet eyes as the prince looked up at her like she had been doing to him before he went back to practicing , making sure to look cool in front of her. Just a bit in front of the princess, the Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole, had his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the boys.
While they switched dummies once again as per usual, Jacaerys and Aemond bumped shoulders with one another, not apologizing for saying a word as they walked by each other. Just across from them, Aegon patted Lucerys shoulder before they were fighting again like the other two. Meanwhile, Ser Criston stood beside Aemond, instructing him to do stuff he wasn't doing, like softening his knees, making his feet light as he ignored the frustrated look on the prince's face.
While he swung the woöden sword, Aemond glanced in Daenaera's direction, seeing she was still twirling the flower between her fingers, taking a deep breath in as he continued to do what the guard told him. Jacaerys stabbed his wooden weapon into the dummy in front of him, making the tip of it stick into it just when Aemond used his own to knock it down, causing the brown haired prince to bend down and pick his sword up.
After swinging his sword around, Aegon stopped in his tracks as his violet eyes stopped on two handmaidens walking by, their nervous eyes glancing at him to see the bright smirk etching on his lips as he stared at them just when Criston called out his name, making him look away.
"I've won my first bout, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy." Aegon comments.
Criston shrugs, nodding. "You'll have a new opponent then, My Lord of the Straw. Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother."
As the guard grabs one of the many wooden swords, Aegon looks to his brother with raised brows as Jacaerys and Lucerys step off to the side. Interested, Y/n stood up and walked over until she was beside her brothers. Soon enough, the Targaryen brothers were letting out grunts as they tried to hit at Ser Criston, but the guard seemed to be quicker than them, using one hand only as the other rested behind his back.
Aegon ran forward to try and hit him but Criston pushed him towards Aemond, causing them to bump into one another as the older prince tried to regain his footing. Unfortunately, neither of the brothers had been able to hit the guard as they moved to stand with the other two brothers and their sister. Meanwhile, just a bit behind them, Ser Harwin had been watching the whole thing as his gaze moved to his children, looking to the boys, calling out to them as they looked over.
"Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter." Harwin instructs, making Criston look at him.
"It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston."
"You question my method of instruction, ser?" Criston asks.
"I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils." Harwin replies just when Aegon pushed Lucerys to the side a bit.
"Very well. Jacaerys, come here." Criston demands, harshly grabbing a hold of the front of the boy's armor and pulling him forward.
"You spar with Aegon. Eldest son against eldest son."
"It's hardly a fair match." Harwin points out when Jacaerys looks over at him with a panicked look as Aegon pats his nephew's shoulder.
"I know you've never seen a true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn't something anyone should expect." Criston argues.
Harwin doesn't say anything else, only staring at the guard with narrowed eyes. From the side, Daenaera felt her little brother grab her hand as she looked at the back of her other brother's head nervously, knowing Aegon was a lot stronger and bigger than him. Noticing this, Aemond reached over and gently grabbed her hand in hope of giving her comfort. When Criston gave them the go, Aegon was the first to do something as he rushed towards his nephew, swinging his sword while Jacaerys stepped back in shock.
Aemond grabbed a hold of Daenaera's hand , pulling her off to the side while Daenaera pulled Lucerys with her when the two boys were rushing right in their direction before Aegon shoved Jacaerys to the ground with one hand, making the younger prince grunt in slight pain. He was quick to get up to his feet, however, lunging towards his uncle while letting out a cry, making Aegon step back in shock. It wasn't long until they were on either side of one of the dummies when the white haired prince pushed the dummy towards his nephew, making him take a few steps back before it fell on him. Harwin points a finger at Aegon.
"Foul play." he yelled 
"I'll deal with him." Criston assures.
Either of the men went to the boys, Criston roughly grabbing the collar of Aegon's armor while Harwin did the same with Jacaerys, just more softly than the other man. The sound of their voices could be heard.
When Criston looked back over at the father and son, Harwin had a soft grip on Jacaerys chin as the prince nodded and smiled at the older man, listening to his words.
Aegon clenched his jaw, his cries being heard as they were back to fighting, the occasional sounds of Criston's instructions that turned into a shout as Aegon sent a foot against his nephew's chest, sending him down to the ground. Aegon continued swinging his sword around, listening to the guard. Seeing that Criston wasn't gonna stop it, Harwin was quick to grab ahold of Aegon's sword, stopping the fight while shoving the older prince away, sending him to the ground.
Just above on the balcony, King Viserys I Targaryen had been watching as his grandsons and sons were fighting. Daenaera rushes to her twin brother, helping him up with Lucerys by their side.
"You dare put hands on me?" Aegon screams.
"Aegon!" Viserys calls out in a scolding tone.
"You forget yourself, Strong. That is the prince." Criston reminds.
"This is what you teach, Cole?" Harwin questions, ignoring his words while he grabbed the swords that each of the boys dropped to the ground. "Cruelty to the weaker opponent?"
"Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual, Commander.
Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin... or a brother... or a son." Criston comments in thought.
This finally seemed to be the last straw for Harwin as he dropped the swords, spinning around and roughly punching the guard in the face. This seemed to surprise everyone in the training ground, including the children as they stumbled back. Keeping her brothers close, Daenaera clutched the sleeve of Aegon's shirt while they watched with wide eyes. Criston collapsed to the ground, but Harwin didn't seem to be done yet as he climbed on top of him to continue his assault. 
After a couple seconds, two guards rushed over and grabbed a hold of the Strong man, a few more having to rush over to keep the man back from the kingsguard, all while Harwin continued to scream at him to say those words again. Still laying on the ground, Criston smiled as if he had succeeded something before spitting the blood that laid in his mouth out, having a very strong hunch about the relationship between Ser Harwin Strong and the Velaryon children.
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I went digging into my eleventy-billion ideas scattered throughout my drive to bring you a list of either last words or close to what I wrote last on the docs. I tried to make sure there wasn’t smut in the lines, but I did curse.
Hopefully this kick starts the muse. She’s been hibernating while real life goes crazy.
@captainswanwipwednesdays
Untitled 1776 fic
With a quick check of herself in the mirror, she threw a shawl around her shoulders and shut the door quietly. When she was certain Arthur wouldn’t see the fear on her face, she opened the door and stepped towards him before Arthur or his men could enter her house again.
Blackberry Summers
“I would give my entire fortune to know those thoughts.” He murmured as he leaned close enough to trail a finger down her cheek. “What was it that made you blush, Swan?”
@teamhook’s fic
“You should learn how to tie one of these things”
“Why? It gives you a sense of accomplishment”
Ice Castles
Her brow furrowed again and she pouted slightly. “What are we doing?”
“I think it’s time a certain Swan took flight.” He kissed the tip of her nose before he picked her up in his arms and stepped onto the ice.
Rear Window
How had she missed that? Emma immediately sent a text to Will before groaning into her pillow. She was completely fucked.
Fairest chapter 5
“I’ve already made an appointment at Ella’s for dress shopping!” Her aunt looked like she might pop from excitement.
Killian wrapped his arms around her waist. This wedding was going to be an explosion of tulle, but at least she wouldn’t be wearing the feather dress.
Untitled A/B/O Smut
“Probably.” He chuckled and brushed a kiss to her shoulder. “But I should probably get some clothes on?”
“In the washer.” She hummed. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Untitled A/B/O
The pull to hold her was too strong to ignore this time. Emma buried her face in his chest as the tears wracked her body. When she finally calmed, she pulled back to meet his eyes. He had no idea what she was looking for, but she found it and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him closer.
Her scent gland was right beside his nose and whatever she was producing made his head swim. He was vaguely aware of her standing on his feet as she tucked herself against him. It didn't matter. She could step on him all she wanted if it meant she'd stay here.
Untitled Supernatural fic
Squeak. Squeak. Squeaksqueaksqueaksqueaksqueak SQUEAK. Squeak. SQUEAK. SqueaksqueakSQUEAKsqueaksqueak SQUEAK. Squeak. Squeak. Squeaksqueaksqueaksqueaksqueak SQUEAK.
A Charming Curse
“You do know who you’re talking to, Miss Charming?” The smooth voice was pure malice.
“You came to me for help, not the other way around.” I shouted at him. “Go find someone who wants magic.”
Captain Who - Eleventh Hour
The crack snapped shut and Olivia stared at her blank bedroom wall, “Who was that?” She asked him. “Was that Prisoner Zero?”
Captain Who - The Snowmen (for @everything-person )
“Snow that can remember? That’s silly.” Was she teasing him? Bloody hell.
“What’s wrong with silly?” He felt a smile tug his lips despite his sour mood. Bloody hell this mood had lasted longer than some of his previous regenerations.
“Nothing. I’m still talking to you.” There it was again. That smirk in her voice, the light in her eyes. A century or two ago, he would have thought she was flirting, but that wasn’t possible anymore. Was it?
“What’s your name?” His manners were a little rusty, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Emma.” Her smile grew brighter.
“That’s a nice name. Emma.” He turned to return home. “You should definitely keep it.”
How I Met Your Mother
“Didn’t my sister tell you? I was able to catch an earlier flight.” She asked and she draped her coat on the chair. “What’s going on?”
The door burst open as a red haired woman tumbled in. She was followed by a tall muscular blond man with a sandwich nearly falling from his mouth as he navigated the steps. “Liam! Elsa gets in early! Oh…hey Elsa!”
Cordially Invited
“It’s why I came looking for you, Captain. You requested my last two dances, did you not?” She smiled mischievously and handed him her dance card. K Jones was written in the last two entries.
Kaos
Granny, Ruby, and Leroy were having a heated argument when a disembodied female voice interrupted: I’m having trouble understanding you. Playing Shake it Off by Taylor Swift.”
A song filled the dining room and Leroy tugged something from deep in his pockets. “No!” He growled at the talking phone.
Only Murders in the Building
"I swear if you apologize for that, I'll make you wait 10 more years." She rasped.
He rested his forehead against her and chuckled quietly. "I would despair if you did."
Sparkling Cyanide
Six people were thinking about Regina Mills-Gold who had died nearly a year ago.
Citadel
The metal scraping of a chair on the floor made Killian’s eyes throb in pain. Bloody hell. His head was already pounding.
Archie sat across from him and leaned his trusty umbrella against his chair. “Alright, Agent Jones, care to tell me what happened?”
Killian closed his eyes and focused his glare on the inside of his eyelids. “I told you already.” He took a breath and met eyes like chips of ice. “I returned home with my wife.”
Archie drew out his tablet and a pen as he began tapping on a screen. “Right. And who would that be?”
“Olivia Rogers.” He replied.
Parabellum
In the ashes of his happiness something else took shape. If he couldn’t be a better man for her, he could become their worst nightmare.
They should have left him in peace.
Untitled Mashup
"My father loved Egypt so much, he married my mother, who was an Egyptian" Killian Jones to Emma Swan after drinking rum for the first time.
@teamhook ’s Christmas
Someone like Emma deserved better. She deserved a better man that he had been or could hope to be. Maybe, he could give her back her sibling.
I’m Wishing
He chuckled at the odd turn of phrase, but before he could inquire about the relevance of the temperature, the door opened to a stooped, wrinkled old woman with stringy gray hair looking painted. What had Ruby called it? A cartoon?
Death on the Nile
She tilted her head to look at her husband. He truly was beautiful in the sunlight. His big blue eyes sparkled at her when he smiled. She traced the tip of one elven ear with her fingertip and laughed when he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. For a few moments, she allowed herself to be swept away by the depth of love she saw reflected back in his eyes.
Code: Omega
Killian sighed when his cubicle mate, Ariel, brought him coffee and a danish from her coffee run. "Lass, if Eric doesn't propose soon, we should talk."
"Ha!" She grinned. "You'd never be able to afford me."
"A man can dream." He chuckled. "You are an angel. Thank you."
Aunt Soolie
“Natural?” West looked furious. “Well it might be natural for a sardine, but this girl’s father put me in charge of making sure she grows up to be a proper lady. Which is why tomorrow at 8 o’clock, I’ll be taking this girl to St Meissa Academy and you will only get your depraved hands on her Christmas and summer and I wish I could find a way to stop you from that!”
Blind Date
Emma pressed against him as he drove to the restaurant. She caught the tip of his ear between her teeth and he nearly drove into the other lane. “God your scruff is so sexy. I wanna know how it feels between my legs.”
Traveling Storm
Late that afternoon, they arrived at a clearing and he felt panic set in. A woman grabbed a young girl with blonde curls, but the child slipped past to run away from the house. “Papa!” she shrieked over and over before Teach picked her up and walked back inside. The woman shouted and ran for him, but he grabbed her by the throat and took them both inside.
Tag!
——————-
@jrob64 @resident-of-storybrooke @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @beckettj @zaharadessert @winterbaby89 @earanemith @everything-person @elizabeethan @elfiola @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @teamhook @caught-in-the-filter @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @kmomof4 @laianely @stahlop @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @exhaustedpirate @ultraluckycatnd @xarandomdreamx @belovedcreation @shady-swan-jones @ohmakemeahercules @bdevereaux-blanche
Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tags 💜
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Okay so more for my Hazbin Hotel co-parenting au
I was just thinking about other people's reaction to this weird thing they've got going on so here is all of Hells reactions
The first one seen with the baby is Alastor (he's on his way to show Rosie that he's acquired a baby) Everyone freaks out about it because "Did the radio demon have a child?" "Did he steal that baby?" "He's on his way to cannibal town HOLY SHIT HE'S GOING TO EAT A BABY"
So as we all know hell loves to gossip so that's what they do. A ton of theories go around but when they don't see him with the baby again they decide it probably met a terrible fate. So they drop it UNTIL...
Angel is seen with the baby next. They're just out buying baby clothes but people are like "huh? When did famous porn star Angel Dust have a baby?" People start taking pictures and posting them on the Internet and the people that saw Alastor and the baby in person are like OH SHIT so now the rumors are worse. Most people think Angel and Alastor are together and raising this baby.
They're still talking about all this when Charlie is seen with the baby. They're just chilling going for a walk. Hell is in an uproar. Polls are going around asking people whose baby they think it is. There's definitely memes. All in all everyone is way too into this.
So the Vees being social media demons have been keeping track of this. Vox has been pissed from the very beginning because it started with Alastor and we all know how he is. Val is writing a list of ways to use this against Angel in a sparkly pink notebook. Velvette wants this to end she's sick of everyone talking about this it bores her and she's not getting as much attention as before SO she decides to interview Angel.
She asks a simple question "is this baby yours? The radio demons? Or the princesses?"
"....yes?"
Things are worse than ever. Nobody understands what's going on. Their first thought is poly but as more demons are seen with the baby they decide that's less and less likely (and the Radio Demon in a poly relationship? Yeah okay). They realize everyone that lives in the princesses hotel is helping raise that baby so now they think if they move in they become a parent (which is not how that works)
It's not even a mystery but nobody can seem to wrap their head around it so at this point they're just waiting for all the attention to dial down or some different drama to take everyone's mind off of it
Also Alastor has no idea any of this is happening because he doesn't have social media and nobody thought to tell him
BONUS: Rosie and Cherri's reactions
Rosie: First of all she definitely goes by Auntie Rosie but anyway she's super supportive of Alastor and is so happy for him. She spoils this kid so much it's ridiculous. She's just an amazing aunt like when the kid is older Rosie is usually the one she goes to for advice. And yes she definitely tries to give the kid demon flesh but most of her parents say no.
Cherri Bomb: She's just confused like last week her and Angel were clubbing and now he's a dad? Obviously she's happy for Angel and is super supportive. Angel even starts referring to her as Auntie Cherri which melts her heart. She's a little annoyed though because now Angel hangs out with her less than ever. She definitely misses going out and doing irresponsible shit because he rarely does that anymore. She's also a terrible influence and is not allowed to watch the baby alone. She's the fun aunt but a bit too irresponsible for comfort. Also she tries to make the baby's first word a cuss word. She will be sitting with this baby for hours just going "fuck... Fuck...fuck" which is another reason she's not allowed to be left alone with the baby.
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catierambles · 3 days
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Blood Moon Ch.17
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News of their engagement spread like wildfire through the rest of his family, Sy getting calls from his sisters-in-law the next day congratulating him along with his nieces and nephews (who were old enough to talk) being very excited that Annalisa was going to be their Aunt. She was a big hit with them, apparently. Annalisa got calls as well, having exchanged numbers with them the previous day during lunch. None of them mentioned or even hinted at their “conditions”, so either his brothers didn’t tell inform their wives (or ex-wife in the case of Jake), or they didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. It would have to be brought up eventually, as Annalisa had been correct, they would notice that she and Sy didn’t age as the children got older.
The idea that what made him turn furry also made him immortal was...something he'd unpack later, but the fact that it meant he would literally be spending forever with his Mate, and she wouldn’t watch her Tovaras age and die while she stayed the same, was a comfort.
“Hey, babe?” Sy said as he lounged in the couch in her office and she hummed in response, not looking up from her monitor. “Annalisa.”
“Yes?” She asked, catching his tone.
“What happens...what happens if a vampires’ Tovaras dies?” He asked, “You said that you knew Markus wasn’t because his death didn’t destroy you. What would’ve happened if he had been?”
“You sure you want to know?” She asked and he paused.
“Yeah.” He said finally.
“I’d die.” She said simply, “Not right away, but I...” She sighed, “I saw it happen once, a friend of mine, a member of my coven. His Tovaras, Daniel, died in a car accident before he had a chance to Turn him.”
“Okay.”
“David just...stopped. Everything. He stopped going out, he stopped talking to people, he stopped feeding. It wasn’t just grief, it wasn’t just him being depressed from losing his lover, he was...he was dead inside. We tried to help him, tried to get him to feed, getting him animal blood, human blood from donation drives run by vampires for those who don’t want to take from the source, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He starved to death.”
“Fuck.” Sy said with a sigh, running a hand over his face.
“We had him cremated and his ashes interred next to Daniels’.” She said, “If something happened to you, or if you were still human and refused to let me Turn you, I would suffer the same fate, but I wouldn’t care. You were gone, so I wouldn’t have any reason to live. I’d have died when you did, but my physical death would come later.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what would happen to me if you died.” Sy said and she sighed. “You know, don’t you.”
“Yeah, Kyle, I do. Wolves that lose their Mates go insane, go rabid, and need to be...put down, for their own sake and the safety of everyone around them.”
“Fuck.” He said again and she got up from her desk, going over to the couch and laying on him gently, her head on his chest and her hands holding his sides. He wrapped his arms around her immediately, holding her tight. “I’m not losin’ you. Never. And you’re never losin’ me."
"The rest of your family needs to be told about us." She said, "Preferably before the wedding."
"I know. I want my brothers there when it happens, so they can keep'em calm if one of them flips their shit about it."
"Pete called us monsters."
"Yeah. Yeah, he did. I'm not holdin' it against'im though, he was just worried about his babies."
"I've been called a lot of things over the years, "monster" isn't even in the top ten of the worst of it." She said and his hands rubbed over her back. "The coven will need to be notified of the engagement, as well."
"How's Eugene gonna take it? He gonna be a problem for us?"
"Most likely, but he'll just have to get over it."
“How do you feel about gettin’ married in a church?” He asked and she hummed.
“As long as holy water isn’t directly involved, I’ll be fine.”
“You good with crucifixes?”
“Jesus Christ was not the first, nor was he the last person to be crucified by the Roman Empire. It was basically their execution method of choice as it was brutal, highly public, and sent a message. Crucifixion was nothing special. If I had a reaction to that, I might as well have a reaction to guillotines or nooses. Besides, there are Muslim vampires, Hindu vampires, Jewish vampires, Agnostic and Atheist vampires, and it would make absolutely no sense for them to have a negative biological reaction to a symbol of a faith that they don’t adhere to.” She explained and he thought it over for a moment before making a small sound.
“Makes sense when you put it like that.” He agreed, “Why does holy water burn you, though?”
“I have a feeling that it’s less because it’s “holy” and more due to the belief of the priest that blessed it. They believe that it’s purifying, so it is. Their belief doesn’t work on crucifixes, though, because as I said, crucifixion wasn’t special or unique. There aren’t naturally occurring bodies of holy water.”
“And the whole silver thing? Ma has a silver candlestick that gave me one hell of a burn that I had to hide.”
“Allergy or sensitivity to silver is something that exists in humans. Whatever makes us us gives us that allergy cranked up to eleven. It’s why before the advent of modern mirrors, we had to avoid them. Not because we didn’t have a reflection, but because it was physically painful to be around them, like we were standing too close to an open fire. Modern mirrors don’t contain silver, so we’re good with those.”
“But the sun doesn’t hurt you.”
“Why would it?” She asked, looking up at him and he paused before giving a shrug.
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This election day, I'm thinking of my Nana.
I'm thinking of how as a young woman, she fled political violence in her native Colombia to build a new home in a more stable country. I'm thinking about how she lived a long life, but not long enough to see her home country elect its first ever progressive president (just a few months ago!).
Coincidentally, I was living in Colombia at that time (in the very city she grew up in), and I was able to witness what felt like a miracle. A very conservative country, suffering from the violent inheritance of colonization and catholic invasion and the war on drugs, against a backdrop of the dangerous global rise of the far right--this unlikely country managed to elect one of the most progressive heads of state in the world, in 2022. That's a pretty big deal.
And I'm thinking about this, this election day, because that election was won by a very thin margin. I'm thinking about how it almost didn't happen. I'm thinking about how it was only possible thanks to the highest voter turnout in 20 year. And I am thinking about the countless number of voters who chose to vote for the first time. I am thinking of the poorest and most disenfranchised citizens who showed up at the polls. I am thinking of the indigenous women who rode 12 hours on public buses to vote at the 'nearest' polling stations. I am thinking of all the money and corruption that went into preventing minority citizens from voting, and I'm thinking about how they showed up in the millions and voted anyway.
I am thinking that I would like to see a miracle like that in my own home country.
So if you're on the fence about waiting in line today to cast your vote, I hope that you will think--about the country you want to live in, the future you hope will unfold, and about all of the people it takes to make a miracle.
Because history may deem us nameless and faceless, but when we show up en masse, we are the ones who make history happen.
And yes, maybe also spare a thought for my Nana. Who was in fact a very angry and judgemental woman who supported the republican party for 50+ years, and who would be turning in her grave right now (if the family hadn't had her cremated). Think about the mean angry ghost of my Colombian grandmother, who very much wants you to not show up at the polls to support abortion and other sinful progressive values. Think about her. Do it for her. Do it for Nana.
#Do it! for her#not a shitpost#serious post#politics#ask to tag#I love you Nana but i disagree SO vehemently with almost all of your personal political and religious values#also you should have treated my mom SO MUCH BETTER when she was a kid. all of your kids really#i see you very much as a victim of religious trauma & childhood poverty#followed by the cultural isolation of being a first generation immigrant with no local hispanic community to provide support#plus the failure of late 20th century mental health care almost certainly compounded by medical sexism#recognize sympathize and am indignant on your behalf for all of those reasons and more#but that truth can also coexist alongside the truth that#hot DAMN Nana you and Papa very much failed to provide your children with an emotionally safe and stable environment in which to grow#and me and my sibs are still dealing with the generational trauma#and who knows how many of my cousins. I HAVE TWENTY-ONE COUSINS AND I DON'T TALK TO ANY OF THEM#that is too many cousins to not be in contact with any of them#(and fyi that's on *one* side of the family. on the other side are a dozen half-aunts-and-cousins I've never met#because Other Grandpa was a Certified Piece of Shit)#Anyway. ANYWAY...#apparently i really needed to overshare today. know what? no judgement. judgement free zone#i have no judgement thoughts or opinions i am finally FREE#........gosh that sounds so relaxing#ANYway#yeah. break the cycle of abuse or your descendants will grow up and critique your parenting choices on third-tier social media platforms#when people say 'they will always be remembered' at a funeral--that is a THREAT#what they actually mean is 'OH HONEYBUN YOU DONE FUCKED UP'#.........i want that in my eulogy actually
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everysongineverykey · 9 months
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i love how unfatherly crowley and aziraphale both are when it comes down to it. sure aziraphale is more than willing to give the young people in his life help and advice and be their friend but he and crowley spent six years (eleven in the book) practically raising a kid (you just know his parents weren't around that often) and by the end they didn't even like him. crowley even suggested they just fucking kill him. he turned three kids into lizards for annoying him right after he destroyed their house. like it was that or kill them obviously but he did NOT hesitate with the newts. that's so funny to me. they're just inherently disinclined to parenthood. we need more characters like them actually
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ineed-to-sleep · 2 months
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One of the cruelest things in this world has to be having to choose between your pet's life and paying your bills
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psychedelic-ink · 3 months
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man living with toxic relatives really is the worst, you come home and you just deal with more bullshit when you should be relaxing
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