#so for the time being they get THE ARROW OF IDENTIFICATION

[axeeglitter]

The Silent Sentinel

Jason was bored out of his mind. This school trip was supposed to be about history, culture, and learning something useful—all things Jason didn’t find interesting. Castles, knights, and ancient ruins were about as exciting to him as a brick wall. No, what he really wanted was to find a way out of this place. Maybe hit the pub he’d seen just outside the castle walls, grab a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some local girls, and hopefully end the night getting laid—that was Jason’s plan.

Jason had always been more of a sports guy rather than a book guy. For him, the most important thing was to have a good time and to make every minute worth living. As soon as he could walk, he started running after balls, climbing trees, and laughing all day long with his friends. Jason had always been a joy to be around, and people were always asking him to join in for a good time. His easy-going attitude and laid-back mentality made him the star of his class from kindergarten until now in college and as soon as he was old enough, he decided to get a tattoo to remind himself that life was short, a line going from his elbow to his wrist and ending as an arrow. At around 6ft 4, Jason was a mountain on the football field. The only thing bigger than his height was his natural aura of dominance, emphasized by his perfectly crafted body. But the thing that really made him the star of every conversation was his million-dollar smile, his curly, wavy blonde hair, and his deep blue eyes. Yes, Jason was truly a perfect specimen of a human being.

______________________________________________________________

“The armors you’ll see all around this place are the eternal protectors of this place. Each one of them are unique because they all belonged to different people and they wear the proofs of their identifications. According to the legend, the armors used to be living soldiers, but the king ruling in this castle couldn't accept his knights to run away, so he cursed the castle and its walls, transforming every soldier trying to run away before the end of their mission and duty into eternal protectors of this walls, and doing so, trapping them as the armors you'll see all around, protecting the place they tried to run away. But don’t worry, this is only some lore and the local explication to why there are so many armors in this place. In reality, this probably used to be some kind of refuge for knights as they were walking from town to town offering their help. Anyway, follow me, on your left you’ll find the grand hall…” said the guide as he kept walking, followed by Jason’s teachers and the other students.

As the tour group made its way deeper into the castle, Jason lagged behind, half listening to this nonsense the guide was talking about. He was getting further and further from the group while shooting quick glances at his friends that seemed really intrigued by this visit. He wasn’t about to stay stuck here listening to this old-looking man who probably hadn’t seen the light of day in years. This was a pure waste of time. Bricks, rocks, paintings, tapestries, a lot of old empty armor—what a shame to spend such a beautiful day stuck between these dusty walls. For Jason, it was enough. This had to end. But he knew he couldn’t just leave like that. Jason really had to pass this class, or he’d lose his scholarship.

As the guide entered the grand hall, full of the same tapestries and armors holding spears in their hands, it was the last straw for Jason.

“I’m done,” he muttered under his breath.

Out of nowhere, he took out his phone and pretended to answer a call in a hurry. He acted concerned and almost stressed, talking just loud enough for his friends to hear him.

“Yeah, okay… well, I can’t right now, I’m on a vi… okay, yeah, okay. I’m on my way!”

Jason hung up his phone and put it back in his pocket as his friends, still walking toward the room, looked at him.

“Is everything okay?” asked Jason’s best friend, Matt.

"Hey, yeah, I gotta go. An emergency came up, I need to get home ASAP. Catch you later.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, dude? You good?"

"Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just something I need to handle. I'll text you later."

Without waiting for a response, Jason slipped down a narrow hallway leading toward what he thought was the exit. His heart raced with excitement, not because of any thrill for exploration, but at the thought of escaping the dull history lesson for something more fun. The pub wasn’t far, just a short walk across the courtyard, and he’d be able to grab a drink, chat up a girl, and then go back to his room, where he’d have the rest of the day to relax, play some games, and invent an excuse if anyone asked. The day was finally about to begin!

As Jason moved through the castle, the twisting corridors began to confuse him. Every turn looked the same, and he realized with growing frustration that he had managed to get himself lost.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, pushing open another old, heavy door at the end of the hallway. The room was dimly lit and almost empty except for another rusty, old-looking suit of armor standing in the corner and an ancient-looking table in the center. Jason stepped inside, scanning the empty space, hoping to find an emergency door or an employee exit leading to the main courtyard.

“Another one… Ain't no way I'm staying there any longer. Done with this boring bullshit. Let me out!” he muttered, dropping his shoulders in frustration and exhaustion as he turned to leave the room.

But as Jason tried to leave, his feet wouldn’t move. His body stiffened, a strange sensation creeping up his legs. Jason glanced down, trying to see why his feet were stuck to the floor. That’s when he saw it. All around him, engraved in the stones and covered by centuries of dust and grime, a dim light began to shine through the dust. Lines of shimmering purple light started to appear, soon forming intricate glyph designs.

“What the…” Panic set in as Jason struggled to move, feeling his legs frozen in place. The glyphs on the floor glowed brighter, their light pulsing in rhythm with his quickening heartbeat. He tried to yank his feet free, but the more he struggled, the tighter the symbols’ grip became.

"No one leave before the end of their mission..." heard Jason in a faint murmuring voice echoing between the walls.

Before he could scream for help, Jason felt a weird sensation spreading through his lungs and body. He turned his head to see dust starting to float around him. First, it was only a grain of dust, then a second one, and soon, a swirling bubble of dust engulfed him in a thick tornado of fear. Jason thought it was the end, that he would die here, his body lost forever in this empty room. Closing his eyes for a brief moment to collect himself, he suddenly felt wind on his forearms. Jason opened his eyes in surprise—how could he feel the wind on his bare forearms when he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a coat? Wait, now it was his calves. What was happening?! Tilting his head, he saw through the thick cloud of magical dust that his clothes were turning into dust. Threads of fabric were ripping from him, swirling into the air before disintegrating.

Jason screamed for help, but no sound came out. Everything went silent, muted by the wind and glyphs. And suddenly, as Jason panicked, feeling his body exposed to the elements, the movement stopped. Everything stood still for a moment before exploding away from him. His clothes, now dust, scattered across the room, forever lost. Jason stood naked in the center of the room, the glyphs still glowing all around him. He tried to move, thinking it was over, but his feet were still frozen.

Then, a strange warmth spread from his groin, catching his breath. His hands shot down instinctively, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. His entire groin glowed with a faint purple hue, just like the floor beneath him. The warmth quickly turned into a searing heat surging through his lower body, the pain so intense it left him gasping.

Jason’s hands flew to his cock. He tried to hold it as an alien sensation began rising within him. It felt like it wanted to grow harder and harder, longer and longer. The feeling was both deeply arousing and weirdly terrifying. It was a pulsating force building inside him, and Jason was trying to resist it. But with one pulse from the glyphs, Jason felt his cock head push his fingers away. He saw it then—his cock elongating, hardening, then transforming, taking on another form and color. The familiar sensation of his manhood was replaced by something cold, metallic, and dangerous. He looked down in horror as he saw it shining between his fingers. His cock had stretched and turned into a massive sword, its shaft glinting in the dim light.

Jason’s mouth hung open, paralyzed with fear. His own flesh had turned into a sword. Just as he was about to scream in pure terror, he felt a new sensation beginning to spread in his nuts. His balls started to merge together. The pain was excruciating as the nerves intertwined and fused. Jason could have fainted from the intensity, but he remained conscious, trapped in the agony and his own powerlessness. Suddenly, his larger nut began to retract into the sack, which itself started to rise higher. Jason heard a pop, then a crack, and before he could catch his breath, he felt his hands gripping his balls as they began to harden and merge with the base of his cock sword. In an instant, his nuts had become the handle of his cock.

Jason was about to cry when the glyphs spasmed with power. His hands loosened slightly, just enough to let the sword fall and hit the ground with a loud metallic clang. His body convulsed, his knees nearly buckling from the impact as Jason realized he could still feel everything—the impact, the cold, grimy floor against his cock, and the vibration of the metal reverberating through his balls. It was as if his cock and balls, though transformed, were still part of him, still flesh in some twisted way.

He gasped in horror, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached down to grab the sword, desperate to reverse whatever had happened. But the moment his calloused hands touched the hilt, it was like squeezing his own nuts with a crushing grip. Pain surged through him, and he screamed out. Jason tried to release the hilt, but his fingers wouldn’t obey—they were frozen in place, gripping his balls tightly. It felt as though his body was no longer fully under his control.

Jason wanted to drop the sword, to escape the agony, but his body didn’t respond. Unbeknownst to him, this was only the beginning.

Jason tried to scream, but no sound escaped his throat. Behind him, he heard metallic noises, one after another. Then, all at once, a loud bang echoed, followed by the sound of sand flowing on an empty beach—the kind of sound that could be calming, but not in this moment.

Before his eyes, he saw shimmering tentacles of dust beginning to engulf his calves, then his arms, chest, and legs. It felt like something was embracing him. Oddly, it was almost soothing, and for a brief moment, Jason nearly forgot where he was. The sound and sensation were calming his torment. But a faint breeze brushing against the sword snapped him back to reality. When he resurfaced a few seconds later, he realized his body was constricted. He turned his head just in time to see the empty suit of armor in the corner of the room dissolving into dust, swirling around his head as a helmet formed and encased his face. Jason’s entire body was trapped inside the armor, locking him in place.

Jason looked down at himself in disbelief, his breath shallow and panicked as it echoed within the helmet. He could feel the cold metal against his bare skin. He tried to move, but nothing happened. He tried to scream, but no sound came from the helmet. The only part of him still under his control was his head.

Through the eyeholes of the helmet, Jason saw the purple light again. He understood it wasn’t over for him yet.

Suddenly, it felt like his feet were burning. The sensation spread up his legs, into his chest, arms, and finally his face and brain. The pain was unbearable, his vision blurred, and he thought he was being boiled alive. But just as Jason was about to pass out, he felt a pop in his bones, and a purple light began emanating from within the armor, glowing through his skin and bones. Jason screamed silently as light poured from his mouth. His eyes shut one last time as a tear of fear and pain rolled down his vanishing cheek. His body was disintegrating, turning into ash, dissolving bit by bit. His hands, his legs, his chest—all turned to dust, floating and falling within the armor before being absorbed by it.

Jason screamed in silence; his voice trapped within his mind as his body dissolved. He could still feel everything—his hands gripping the sword’s hilt, his feet on the cold stone floor, the weight of the armor pressing down on him—but he was no longer flesh and blood. He was nothing more than the armor now, a hollow, metal shell, yet still fully aware.

Jason tried to move, but he couldn’t. His body had become the armor, and there was no one left inside to control it.

As the glyphs continued to shine, Jason felt something being engraved onto the hilt of his sword. Beneath his armored fingers, a glyph appeared, etched into the metal. An intricate design started to form. A human silhouette started to appear in a standing position being encircled by what looked like a leaking sword centered in a shield with a castle on top of it. Then, as he thought it was over, a new engraving staring to appear on the lengths of his sword, centered between the two sharp sides. A line going from the hilt to the tip and ending as an arrow, a perfect mirror picture of the tattoo he used to have. When the engravings were complete, the glyphs shone brightly one last time before fading, leaving only the mark behind.

Jason felt his body moving of its own accord, walking back to the corner of the room where the armor had stood before he’d entered. Every movement his legs were taking, every breeze of wind on his naked metallic body, every bit of friction was sending shiver of orgasmic sensation in his sword. Jason would have cried and begged for cum and release if he had the chance. But nothing came, just frustration as another step was taken until he was where he belonged.

Jason took a standing position, gripping the sword even tighter, inadvertently squeezing his nuts harder. The tip of the sword scraped against the floor, sending a tingling sensation through his entire being that once again screamed for release.

Jason wanted to scream, to cum, to escape—but nothing happened. He was stuck there, waiting for the curse to be broken.

______________________________________________________________

Time passed—minutes, hours, Jason couldn’t tell. He was frozen in place, his thoughts racing, but his body immobile. The cursed room was silent, save for the occasional drip of water echoing in the distance. Then, suddenly, the door creaked open.

If Jason had still had a heart, it would have leaped. His friends—Mike and a few others—entered the room, laughing and chatting as they followed the tour guide. They seemed oblivious to the oppressive air of the chamber, their voices echoing off the walls.

Mike stepped forward, stopping in front of Jason’s armored form, unaware that he was staring at his best friend. He gazed up at the imposing figure.

“Whoa, check this out!” Mike called, drawing the others' attention. “This one look so epic. I wonder how old this armor is.”

Jason screamed inside his mind, desperate to be seen, to be saved, but his body remained as still as ever. The tour guide, unaware of the curse lingering in the room, droned on about the room’s history, speaking of old sorcery and forgotten rituals. But Jason’s friends didn’t care about what the guide was talking about—they were more interested in the armor and the sword.

“Dude, look at the sword!” Mike said, grinning. “This thing is massive. Bet it was for a fucking Captain knight or something.”

Jason’s entire being quaked in horror as Mike reached down and grabbed the sword—his sword, his penis. As Mike too hold of the hilt, he felt something weird. It was almost like it was warm to the touch, spasming with power, craving for touch and sensation. As Mike started to move back and forth moving the sword left and right, he swears he heard a faint murmur from the back of his mind, “Help me… feels, painf… good… don’t… stop.” Mike blinked a few times as he tried to understand if he was dreaming awake but his other friends called for him and the weird sensations vanished into the void as he laughed back playing a bit more with the sword. For Jason, the sensation was unbearable. It was like someone had taken hold of his most sensitive part, jerking and playing with it. Every time Mike moved the sword, Jason could feel it. The cold steel, the rough handling, the vertigo-inducing sensation of Mike squeezing his nuts while moving his cock left and right—it was all too real.

The group laughed and joked, unaware that every swing of the sword was torture for Jason. One of them even pretended to knight Mike with it, holding the blade up with mock seriousness.

Jason’s mind was a whirlwind of fear and humiliation. His friends—the people he had once trusted—were now unwittingly torturing him. Every time they touched the sword, he felt it deep in his core. His mind screamed for them to stop, but no one could hear his silent pleas as he watched them playing with his most intimate part, begging for someone to free him.

“Man, this sword is fucking epic,” Mike said with a laugh. “It’s so heavy. The knight who owned it must have been super strong. Like, I’m sure he was fighting and winning every fight!”

Jason could only wish it were true, that he could win this fight. But all he could do was endure, helpless in his new state, feeling everything happening but unable to do anything about it.

At one point, Mike joked, “I bet whoever owned this armor had to be a badass. You think they ever knew it’d end up stuck in a dusty old room like this?”

The words cut deep, and Jason’s mind spiraled into despair. Would he be trapped here forever? Would anyone ever know the truth? The laughter of his friends echoed in his mind; each taunt a dagger to his soul.

Eventually, the group grew tired of playing with the sword and returned it to its place, making sure the sword was held tight between the metallic fingers. As Mike finished positioning the fingers back in place, he noticed a strange engraving between the blades of the sword, it looked like a glyph leading to a line ending up as an arrow. As he blew on it, he swore he saw shimmering purple dust flow out of the engraving. He knew this symbol, but as his mind was about to put the pieces together, he heard someone calling for him. Mike got back up and started walking out of the room, forgetting about it after a couple of minutes. Jason stood there, holding his cock between his hands, feeling every faint movement and vibration of the walls and floor resonating in his empty armor body and cock as he kept screaming for help while hearing his friends entering a new room as the guide kept talking about the legends of this medieval castle he was now a part of.

______________________________________________________________

Hey guys!

I hope you enjoyed this new story. Let me know if you want to see more of Jason's journey. I have some ideas of where things could go for him, and no, it won't only be inanimate transformations if you want me to continue it.

As always, let me know what you thought of it, whether you enjoyed it or not, and if you have any ideas about what could happen next or where you want the story to go.

Also, I saw the results of the poll, and the story you voted for will be released really soon, so stay tuned.

Last but not least, I still have some slots left for free shorter stories based on your prompts. So feel free to send me messages or ask (anonymous is fine, don’t worry) if you have ideas you want me to write. It can be pretty much any theme you desire, but it's first come, first served.

In the meantime, have a nice day and see you soon! :)

[the-grey-wizard]

The Gr(e/a)y Council Guide for day to day protective Spells

This is a primer for late apprentices (early ones should be protected from outside interference by their Master) or Hermit like Wizards who rarely interacted with other beings, so never had call to practice defensive magic until now.

This is also for going out and about, I can make a seperate primer for protecting your cave/tower/lair should be people so desire.

Now before we get started I will mention a few general givens, I expect that everyone already has their basic immortality figured out (basic being: Unless acted upon by something external or supernatural you will not die. And at the very least any wound you receive will heal completely and 1.5 times faster than an ordinary member of your species.)

The other is: When it comes to defensive spells redundency is key: Cast the spell, as well as make sure that a separate version of the spell is tied to an amulet, ring, or robe that you wear. If the item is stolen, your active cast will remain, if you lose focus, the item will pick up the slack.

Without further ado, the Gr(e/a)y council Standard list:

Magic Nullification Prevents scrying, and most spells cast directly on your person*. It is such a given, that most wizards don't attempt direct magic anymore, (e.g. summon a cloud of poison around you, rather than at you), but always cover your basics. Once saw a dude have ants summoned in his veins. Unpleasant.

Unbreakable Skin/Bones Daggers, Knives, etc. If magic won't work, go mortal. Also prevents animal Summons from harming you.

Clean Air (or whatever you breathe) (Usually cast directly on or around your breathing apparatus) Prevents poison gas attacks, or the far more popular "remove air from around this person".

Temperature Stability Stopping heat and cold attacks, as well as generally convenient when going around day to day in hot or cold climates!

Poison Detection Ok this one is obvious.

Relative Velocity above x Threshold Kinetic Energy Absorption This one is advanced and fairly complex, but if something is about to hit you with a velocity above a pre set threshold, the kinetic energy is absorbed. So you can high five, but an arrow will bounce.

Relative Intent Identification (Good/Bad/Neutral) Someone casting a spell and you want to know how they intend that it will impact you? This is the spell! Also fairly advanced and it can be tricked, but often useful.

These are the most basic protective spells that the more advanced Gr(e/a)y Council members use day to day (of course, with specific variations, plus a host of other ones. We aint giving away all our secrets).

*Note: This spell, (and in fact the rest on this list) can be broken by someone with enough power or skill.

When in a Wizard feud, you are never truly safe.

[indoraptorgirlwind]

|an exception| part 2

summary: while Stephen helps reader to recover from her wounds, something goes off as he keeps hiding what he is...

When Stephen managed to return back to normal, he sneaked up to your house. While it would be considered rude or illegal to sneak into someone's house, he had his reasons; he had to heal your wounds.

Despite being apart from the city, this village had some modern objects, allowing Stephen to treat your wounds and clean all the blood. Talking about blood, you lost plenty of it, which was dangerous and Stephen knew it. He didn't know your type of blood so he had to search through your memories: _____ After a long day, you were ready to make your identification, and you just wished your parents were there. You arrived at the city for it, and started to introduce your information. Name: y/n Last name: y/l/n Date of birth: (your birth here) Type of blood: (your type of blood here) _____ "Bingo!" Stephen said when he read the paper in your memories

Stephen wasn't going to have time to get a pack of blood, so he created one with magic, hoping it would work as he introduced the nail on your arm and waited until the next morning...

You woke up, confused to the birds chirping. You remembered being hurt to death by the creature and another demon coming out from nowhere, and that's where you knew your village was in danger.

You stood up of your bed and almost had a heart attack when you saw a man on your left

"Holy Shit!" You yelled

"I'm sorry, i should have warned you i'm here" Stephen lifted up his arms showing his hands to make you know he mdans no harm

You recognized him...he was the man you told to leave when the creature attacked

"Sir, what are you doing here?"

"Call me Stephen, i came to heal your wounds" he explained

"Oh...that's...thanks" you stuttered

"You owe me nothing" he chuckled. He was starting to feel something towards you. Simpathy maybe? To be a huntress you were charming and kind. But if you discovered what he was...

"Whoa, you okay?" You asked, interrupting his thoughts

"Why the question?" He answered

"Well, you look like you haven't sleep on a long time, dude. Now if you excuse me i have to track down the demon before the other hunters do" you stood up, walking to your armory.

Stephen followed you and asked "you're gonna hunt down that demon?"

You stood quiet for a moment with a concerned face, trying to hide your real motive, but Stephen helped you. He deserved to know the truth even if it would make him hate you...

"No..." you answered looking up to his face. "Stephen, i'll find it to protect it"

Stephen frowned. You wanted to protect him? You? Lancea the village's best huntress?

"Why?" He flinched

"When that creature attacked me, and the demon appeared, it saved me. But the other hunters saw him too and i don't think they knew what it was doing and they may try to kill it! Please Stephen, i need you to understand it was not hostile!"

"I understand" Stephen soothed you, holding the urge to tell you he is the demon, and he is in fact, not hostile

"Let's just return to that place" you suggested.

While you two walked down through the village's streets, Stephen could smell the fear in the villagers after the incident. He doesn't blame them though, he knows he's hideous. A pair of hunters aproaching to Lancea caught his attention.

"Ah, Lancea!" The man with an axe tied to his back said

"Isaac, what's up?"

"We've heard there was a demon in the village" The 2nd hunter, a blond woman with an arrow bag and a bow answered

"About that, i forgot to tell you to stay away from this one, i'll hunt it alone, guys" you lied, trying to keep them away from finding and killing the demon "So sorry Danna but this is my prey"

"Always taking the big credit, huh?" Danna grunted, turning to look at Stephen "and who is this man? Is he a hunter? Did you replace us with him?!" Danna started yelling

"Calm down Danna" Isaac grabbed her arm

"He's not a hunter. He's a medic, his name is Stephen" you declaired "and i would never replace you guys, i just wanna, eh, do this alone by once"

Isaac and Danna leaved you and Stephen alone, you gazed up at his face, blue soft eyes returning the gaze at you.

"I hope you can forgive Danna, she's very jealous and Isaac is always trying to calm her down" you apologized

Stephen enjoyed your presence now, but he had to go. He suddenly ran from you, accidentally hurting his left leg with a broken piece of wood. He kept running as he could until he got of your sight, and hid in the same place where he appeared, on the small abandoned farm.

"Stephen!" You called out, worried about why he ran and about the enormous cut he now had on his leg

But Stephen couldn't come out. He was about to shift again and he didn't want you to see him like this Even after being changed physically, Stephen's left leg was still hurt, and he couldn't move because of it. Then he heard your footsteps coming in

"Stephen? Where are you?!" You called out, then gasped at the demon in front of you, it was the one you were looking for

"Hey, big guy" you approached at it calmly, raising a hand to it.

Stephen covered his face with his wings, backing away until he hit the wall

"It's okay, it's okay. I won't hurt you, i just need to know why you did it"

Stephen cocked his head, did you discover who he was?

"Saving me" you explained "can you understand me?" You asked it

Stephen nodded

"Can i come closer, please?" You suggested

"Yes..." it finally spoke to you

You took a closer view on the demon, noticing it had more than just tentacles and wings... it had a pair of enormous and twisted horns, it's hands had sharp claws and it also had multiple eyes on it's face, between many other features. But there was something off. It's main pair of eyes looked familiar, but what caught you the most was it's wounded left paw

"Stephen?" You called out...

[jadedandconfusedao3]

15 Questions

Rules: Answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people.

Thanks for the tag @bluestringpudding but I am so new to tumblr. Do I even know 15 people?

Ok here we go.

Are you named after anyone? I am actually named after a famous dancer and a famous singer. I don’t reveal my real name on the internet though so people will all just have to wonder. I will say though that back in those days the internet did not exist so hilariously my middle name is spelt incorrectly.

When was the last time you cried? I don’t know actually. I suffer from a lot of emotional numbness. Pretty sure it’s because of my undiagnosed ADHD. Getting on track with my mental health is on my list of things to do this year.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? All millennials use sarcasm. It’s part of our survival mechanics.

Do you have kids? Yes

What’s the first thing you notice about people? I have no idea. I’m too busy trying to make sure they don’t notice me.

What’s your eye colour? Brown

Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies. I love horror. It was the first genre of literature that I ever loved. 

Any special talents? I am a Jack of all trades but a master of none. This is literally a list of all the things I’ve obsessed about over the years. I can write. I can sing. I can dance the Lindy Hop. I can sew quite well. I can passably shoot a bow and arrow. I’m pretty good at sketching but am abhorrent with colour.

Where were you born? Perth, Western Australia

What are your hobbies? Right now? The unholy fandom trifecta: Writing, reading and drawing. Ask me again in 6 months and you will probably get a different answer.

What sports do you play/have you played? Archery, lasertag and I did ballet for a while recently but then I broke my hand and stopped doing it.

Do you have any pets? I have a beautiful dachshund who is adorable and sooky. He has the biggest eyes.

Dream job? I think I’d love to be a writer but I realise that most writing jobs are about banal stuff like advertising print etc. I once applied to be a journalist and got into the second round of applications and completely bombed the celebrity identification test. Apparently you need to know and care about famous people to be a reporter. Who knew?

Favourite subject at school? Math. I happen to be phenomenal at it and I enjoy being good at things.

How tall are you? Tolkien royal dwarf height 157cm (5’ 1.5”)

I don’t know that many people on tumblr so here we go.

@dont-stop-her-now @artemisdraws14 @mistresslynndramione @creativebluebee @goodnight-fraublucher @mygogglesdosomething @laeveteinn @tracingpatternswrites @i-oooo @oneofthesirens @chelonie

[etcsvd]

10 Importance of Checking Exit & Emergency Light Testing

Test and tag Devonport services can cater to different products and industries. And if there is one thing they do, it is to conduct exit & emergency light testing. This service is crucial to many buildings and businesses because it is the guide and light if there is an emergency. Seeing this sign can lessen the chaos and panic, leading to an orderly evacuation. Here are other reasons why checking it is important:

Compliance with Safety Regulations

There are local and safety codes and regulations you need to follow when it comes to exit & emergency lights. Ensure that they are within the standards and rules because one detail overlooked can put the entire testing into chaos. These safety regulations can benefit the building and the people because they know that every exit is safe and in good condition.

Enhanced Safety in Emergencies

Emergencies can happen anytime, so being ready is necessary. The fact that there is no specific time or place where it will occur is enough to make people panic. Ensuring that the exit & emergency lights are updated and properly working can guide people to get out of the building safely with minimal to no injuries.

Reliability

Regularly testing the exit lights can guarantee that they are reliable and continuously functioning. You do not need to think about them all the time because you know that you can rely on those lights if an emergency occurs. It will function as you intend it to be, making it a safety guide.

Immediate Issue Identification

Some people do not give notice to exit lights because they are not used every day. However, they need attention and care to ensure that they will function properly when an emergency happens. With the help of exit & emergency lights testing, you will immediately notice the issues they face and what to do with them. There are also indications that they have an issue even without the testing. Some of them are dim or flickering light, inconsistent illumination, incorrect directional arrows, and cracks or physical damage.

Peace of Mind

Even if the exit & emergency lights do not show any problem, having them checked and tested will give you peace of mind. You know that you are staying in a building that cares about the safety of the people. Building owners and managers will also experience this good thing.

Maintenance of Lighting Performance

The performance of the lights must always be good, knowing that an emergency can happen at any time. If building owners do not pay attention to its condition and performance, people will panic during the situation and have difficulties knowing where they need to go.

Prolonged Equipment Life

Testing the exit lights can help prolong its life. You can attend to its problem immediately, lessening the chances of more persistent and serious damage. If there are parts that need to be repaired or replaced, you can do them properly and correctly. If the emergency lights last for more than five years, you know that it is a worthy investment.

Cost Savings

Since there is no need to frequently repair or replace your exit lights, notice how you can save money over time. These two can be costly, depending on the problem, so preventing them early can lead you to this benefit. Ensure that the ones you trust with your lights are legitimate and trusted to avoid having regrets in the future.

Ensuring Visibility in Power Outages

Exit & emergency lights play an important role in providing visibility during a power outage. They will tell the path to the exit door, keeping everyone safe. Keeping its clear illumination is a huge part of the process, so keep them checked and tested regularly.

Building Reputation

The reputation of the building is not only about its beauty, but it is also about the safety it poses to its tenants and visitors. Testing the exit lights can tell you so many things about how the management in the building works, especially their commitment to making the place safe and comply with regulations.

Exit & emergency lights have been helpful to many people. Without them, people will panic because they do not see a way out of the chaos. But aside from the building owners and the tenants, emergency responders can also greatly benefit. Whoever it is that will be in the building, this life-saving system can lead them to safety.

[riverdamien]

Our Lady and ACE

Our Lady and ACE!

To you, my brothers and sisters in Rome, called to be saints (Romans 1:7).

The years I was kicked out of the church on my ass; being continually told I was "inherently evil," and what the "true interpretation" of the Scriptures said of my being gay I hated the Church, I hated the male God.

But one night after a long night of whoring, I entered the Cathedral in L.A. and sat down before the statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and within me her voice rang out, "You were called from before you were born to preach, go and preach the Gospel," and that was the beginning of my returning to ministry, of returning to a life of joy!

For the Divine Feminine brings a sense of well being in our alienation and uncertainty. She responds from a heart loving all without prejudice.

Our wildness in chaos is at home in her mystery! She too is filled with ambiguity and paradox, so therefore in our own struggles, we can find a sense of welcome. She brings us back to a welcoming inner place in her Son.

It is  in ambiguity and paradox in which our brothers and sisters who are not straight live, we are not black and white, in particular our transgender and asexual brothers and sisters.

Transgenders are born into their wrong gender, a mistake of nature, a psychologically damning mistake. They come alive in transforming their genders.  Nature makes mistakes. I have many friends who simply want talk about the subject of being queer, let along our transgender or asexual brothers and sisters . After all God simply creates us man or woman, or so we are told. (HA!) Science has proved otherwise.

Yet we see our transgender brothers and sisters beat up, murdered, and discriminated against in our schools and States. They have trouble getting health care and finding jobs.

And talking about  one who is  asexual  is for many even more confusing and scary. Asexuality or (ace) is a sexual orientation in which a person experiences little or no sexual attraction.  That is abnormal in a culture in which both secular and religious culture assert that everyone wants sex.

Since 2013 the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders  have stated if "the life of an individual has been since an early age explained by one's self-identification as "asexual", that life is healthy."

Whether or not we understand our transgender and asexual brothers and sisters, we need to work at understanding, and accepting each one as a child of God, of humanity. We need to look within ourselves and see what causes us to label others.

Labeling is one of the most destructive tools used in politics, culture and sexuality.

I know what alienation and uncertainty has meant to me through the years, and now.

 Not being straight, working with homeless, and disenfranchised youth of every race, creed, and sexual orientation, reaps much hatred, and alienation. My body bears the marks of the hatred.

Becoming brothers and sisters, without judgment to any color, sexual orientation, or other faiths helps us  truly recenter truly traditional Jesus values and expands the kinds of relationships that can be fostered in our faith communities.

Our faith communities have failed for the most part in this out of fear, and old ways of looking at the Scripture and theology. It is time to use new wine skins for new wines!

The Trovor Project every day walks with all people of the queer community, and especially with our Transgender and Asexual brothers and sisters manifesting complete love, acceptance.

The Trevor Project's hotline is one of only a few where LGBTQ? youth can call, and find support.

We are "called to be saints". Saints are one's who continue to shoot the arrow, always missing the mark, but continue down the road towards perfection. Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

----------------------------------------

The Trevor Project

PO Box 69232

West Hollywood, CA 90069 US

212-695-8650

--------------------------------

I have walked as of today, 24 miles, and a number of people have donated to The Trevor Project, walking along with me at least in spirit,  to the total thus far of $1500.00, so join me in our walk, and thank you from the bottom of my heart!

===========================

Fr. River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

www.temenos.org

415-305-2124

=================================

Let Love Ache

Father, give me the courage to keep on loving.

when others keep on hurting.

help me to live an achy love, a gritty,

persistent and emptying love;

a love that’s not afraid to flow toward the other

who has little left to offer in return.

And may I tread faithfully with heaven

through the unfinished work that surrounds me.

Commoners_Communion

Strahan Coleman

[aecho-rambles]

Railjet

General information:

Aliases and other designations:

Jetter (combined form of Railjet, Acidsplicer/Arrow Jet and Snowblast/Snow Jet, Brave, original series)

Super Jetter (combined form of Railjet, Nightjet, Acidsplicer/Arrow Jet and Snowblast/Snow Jet, Brave, original series)

Rail Jet (can be written as such, Brave, original series)

(his designation is a direct reference to our local trains)

Identification:

Mech (genderless) | he/she/they

Origins:

Kaon | Cybertron (Transformers, original continuity)

Planet Kaiser (Brave, original series)

Occupation:

Hauler - logistics (pre-war, Transformers, original continuity)

Captain of a neutral ship (post-war, Transformers, original continuity)

Officer of the Space Police (Brave, original series)

Appearance and alt mode:

Red-gray-orange painjob, blue optics

High-speed locomotive

Inspired by: Siemens EuroSprinter 64 U2 "Taurus"

Medium-thick armor despite a tough appearance

Pneumatic train wheel ejection system on both arms

Propulsion systems on the back can be used in bot mode to hover for a limited amount of time

Nightjet's split spark twin

Personality:

Friendly towards everyone and open minded

Gives off big older brother vibes and treats the rest of the team like his siblings

Acts as a mediator when fights break out

Always willing to share some advice

Doesn't want to/cannot handle the responsibility of his role as captain

Fastest of the trains, yet never punctual

Procastination and Decision Fatigue all the way, baby

Gets angry if he is pushed far enough, but he'll cool off eventually and or forget that anything happened at all

Averagely smart, more so than his brother, also clever

Family person who doesn't view just his twin but also his closest friends as family, and he would absolutely go insane should anything ever happen to them

Miscellaneous thoughts:

He and his brother rarely meet during their shifts, since they have an alternative shift system

When one of them comes back from their shift early, they cuddle up together in their shared hab suite and enjoy the comfortable silence

It rarely ever happens that they have more time than that to spare, but one can stay up later/wake up earlier for them to chat

He likes to watch sports and other physical activities, but cannot participate due to being in charge of a space ship and therefore irreplaceable (he does not trust Helios nor his brother to run things smoothly)

[dionisiagreco]

Xingyu

In a hurry, Su Lan can no longer care about the usual cover, from the heart of a scream. She shot forward frantically, trying to block the blow on behalf of Michael, but fell to the ground involuntarily when she touched the area of domain energy. Seeing that McCall was about to be hit, her face turned blue, her head crashed, and her vision was blurred! Being carried into the air, Michael's energy was so confused that he could no longer resist. He smiled weakly: "The greatest hope in my life has disappeared with the loss of Feng'er. What can I miss one by one?"? His eyes looked dimly at Su Lan: "Perhaps, the only thing I'm sorry for is this female apprentice?"? In a trance, Maike returned to the rainy autumn weather, when she had just created a sharp edge, when she was high-spirited, frivolous and uninhibited, and she was just a girl who "just showed her sharp corners". Big bad, you give me back the jade belt! "Why, didn't you say that anyone who could beat you in the manufacture of alchemy items could take this away?" A jade belt? "But that's for the future husband, and you're so old!"! How can With, …… Little girl, if you worship me as a teacher, I will return the jade belt to you, how about it? "It's a deal?" "Of course,digital signage screen, I, Mike, always keep my word." "Well, I'll take you as my teacher and return the jade belt to me." Forget it, big bad guy, put the jade belt on you first There, when I can win you in alchemy, I will return it to you. Don't call me a bad guy anymore. Call me Master. Big bad guy! Memories flashed through her mind like lightning,temperature check kiosk, and her alchemy and cultivation had already given her an unknown amount, but the jade belt had never been returned. "Why don't you know the affection in the meantime?"? But if you accept the affection of the disciple, don't you go against the ethics? It's even better. Mike gave a wry smile. "It's all over, isn't it?"? In Mike's sight, the body of the bull's head was getting closer and closer, so close that he could smell the strong smell of death. He closed his eyes gently! Suddenly, an earth-shaking roar rang out: "Who dares to hurt my master?" The sound resounded vigorously through the eight poles, and a strong blue light in the distance was very close. Eldest brother! "Instructor!"! "Younger Martial Brother?"? An amazing rainbow flies to the sky, holding the natural power of heaven and earth, where it passes, the world roars, the earth trembles, even if it is a trace of residual power, it also makes the solid houses collapse and the ground burst! Body and sword in one ! Ling Feng blasted the spirit body of the bull's head heavily. "His whole body was like a sharp arrow piercing its belly. Under the heart of Michael, his whole body strength exploded wildly beyond the limit, Interactive digital signage ,temperature screening kiosk, and his sharp sword awn sprayed wildly on both sides." Moo! Moo !” The bull's head and spirit body roared constantly, but this time its roar was full of panic and uneasiness. Sword Mang shot, his pleura hole out of the invincible hole, the energy immediately poured out. By Mai Ke and Blood Shawei two successive bombing, it a body of energy ten to five or six, how can it block Ling Feng full blow? The blue light flashed like boiling water splashing snow, and thh Lilse panting, just a gentle sigh, which contains too much sadness and too many surprises. Ling Feng's eyes were sour. He held Mike's palm tightly and answered repeatedly, "Master, I'm all right, I'm all right!" McCall smiled, smiling with indescribable ease and comfort, and all the people around him felt sour and warm when they saw the scene. For a long time, Mike said, "Well, you go down first. I have something to say to Feng." Lu Sen and others slightly hesitated,face recognition identification kiosk, or respectfully retreated, before leaving Lu Sen heavily patted Ling Feng on the shoulder. Ling Feng nodded clearly, he wanted to tell himself not to let the master too tired. hsdtouch.com

[thecreativeforge-a]

Roy received word about a human trafficking operation taking place in the harbor several days ago from a reliable source. It was supposed to be small, covert; they were being smart and not spreading the word to more people than necessary. Unfortunately for them, Roy already has too much experience under his belt getting information he wanted out of people when he needed it, so finding out about what was about to happen Friday night was only giving him more time to prepare.

By the time Friday night arrived, he was already ready for action. Having dropped off Lian at a friend's place, he got all the equipment he needed from his workshop hideout before getting on the road towards the pier. He took all factors into account, having a rough estimate of how many people were involved and knowing exactly which ship the people were going to be arriving on - even down to the container identification number itself. He would alert the PD when the time was right and he would be about done. This shouldn't be too much of a trouble for a one man operation to deal with... or, at least, so he thought.

By the time he changed to uniform and was geared up, sneaking about the harbor to reach the right pier, he noticed something wasn't right. There were signs that a fight took place here, trails of blood and marks of struggle all around. He didn't see any bodies, yet, but if the intruder was smart enough then they probably hid the bodies to not raise suspicion. He wasn't aware there was another active mask on this mission, nobody that he knew at least - and nobody that was willing to kill on purpose. None of the arrows were on this operation other than him, and all his friends and acquaintances weren't around... So who was here? Was this mission something bigger than he anticipated?

Moving around to get on a higher ground so he could have a better look about, he found a stack of shipment containers to climb and perched atop of it, getting his composite bow at the ready as he looked around. He noticed there were still a few guys around; someone was being smart and left a few key players. Again, smart.

Waiting patiently, perhaps he could ambush this mysterious participant once the ship arrives. Hopefully, they were on his side.

long time, no see

She'd arrived in New York 2 days ago, wearing a wig & using an alias. The only person she'd kept in contact with over the last couple of years was Alfred & even he didn't know she was coming home that month. (Well, not "home", but back to America). So she was free to do as she pleased for the time being, & she did. Unable to just sightsee or sit in her room all day, Jayn took to the streets & found out about a shipment of human beings coming in Friday night. All she'd brought with her was her Frostbite gear, her money & some basic essentials; she had more than enough to do what needed to be done.

The people working the operation didn't stand a chance--not that she pitied them. She sprinted & flipped through the dark with ease, stalking each person in the shadows. Her powers allowed her to sense heartbeats & with some effort, she could prevent a handful of people from using their trigger fingers when she decided to step in & take them out. Those who resisted were usually just knocked out, but if they kept resisting & made too much noise, they died. She'd left a few alive so they could welcome their friends to the docks. All there was was getting those poor people out of whatever storage container. Then, their captors would die.

But while she was sitting on her perch, she sensed a heartbeat that she hadn't accounted for. It was higher up than the rest & remarkably steady compared to those that still remained.

@thecreativeforge

[amabela-14]

Based vaguely on that one post about not being able to write neurotypical characters and a dream I distantly remember from last night.

[queenshelby]

Saving the Devil (Part Three)

SPOILER WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON SIX!

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Words: 1,518

Warning: Mention of War, Major Character Death, Illness, Seziures

Summary: This plays after Episode 4 of Season 6 and before the start of WWII. Tommy got away with the assassination attempt on Mosley and now spies on him and his connections with the Germans on behalf of the Crown.

Please engage and comment so that I can keep going! your comments are super important for me.

‘He’s a lonely man with only one goal in sight. I am so sorry Y/N. I thought that he would have seen reason’ Frances told you and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for Thomas. He was ill and he had lost his family to illness as well, so why should he care for yours? There was no reason for him to care especially since he had such little time left to live. He had given up hope and you knew that, without your daughter being alive, you would have done the same when you were inside the camp.

‘That’s alright Frances. There is no need to be sorry. You’ve been very kind to me and I thank you for that and everything you have done’ you said, knowing that you had to leave but, before you did, Frances gave you something. It was a note with an address. The address of the orphanage you’ve been looking for.

‘This is where you might find your daughter unless she’s been adopted’ Frances told you and tears shot into your eyes as you fell into her arms, thanking her from the bottom of your heart.

‘Thank you, Frances! Thank you so much’ you told her and, just before you were about to get changed into your old and dirty clothes, she handed you some new ones along with a pair of boots.

‘These belonged to Mrs Shelby and I know she won’t miss them in heaven. She would have wanted you to have them considering the circumstances. She too was a kind woman’ Frances told you and you thanked her again before getting changed into the clothes and making your way out the door of Arrow House.

Three days later…

For the past three days, you visited the orphanage, walking around it and trying to find your daughter. You looked through every window and every gate, but couldn’t see her at all.

Like a stalker, you tried your best to get into the rather secure facility knowing that, if you were caught you would likely be arrested.

Without any form of identification, you couldn’t simply walk inside the institution and therefore you needed not to be noticed which was a struggle in itself.

Eventually, your efforts turned out to be futile and, on day three of your attempted break in, one of the guards captured you and knocked you onto the ground.

‘Let go off me’ you yelled at him before trying to yell out for your daughter in a sense of desperation but the guard dragged you away from the facility nonetheless and called the police.

You were taken to the local police station and were interviewed by a man called Moss. He questioned you but you refused to tell him anything, not even your name.

After an hour of useless attempts to interrogate you, the inspector gave up and locked you into a small and rather dark room until you were willing to talk.

But talking wasn’t something you wanted to do and when, suddenly, the cell door opened, you yelled at the man standing in hallway without even taking a look at him.

‘Common Love! Time to go’ a familiar voice said and you realised that it was Thomas Shelby who had just bailed you out of jail.

‘Go where?’ you asked somewhat surprised and, without words, Thomas led you to his car and opened the passenger door.

For a lack of options, you climbed inside the Bentley and strapped yourself in, allowing him to drive off.

***

‘Why did you bail me out?’ you asked somewhat surprised as Tommy was driving you down a familiar road, back to Arrow House.

‘Well, Hannah Schmidt, as it has happened, I am in need for someone who speaks German’ he said as he handed you a passport of some sort. It was a German passport of a diseased woman of similar age. Her name was Hannah Schmidt and her photograph was replaced with yours.

‘Hannah Schmidt?’ you asked somewhat confused. You didn’t understand why you needed a fake identity. Being in England now, it didn’t matter who you were and it certainly didn’t matter if you were Jewish or not. In fact, being German was probably worse.

‘I am also in need for someone who is not Jewish if you understand what I mean’ he then said nonetheless and you had no idea what he was referring to.

‘Aren’t you a socialist Mr Shelby?’ you asked after having read the local paper for the past few days, unsure as to why he cared about the fact that you were of Jewish heritage.

‘I am but I also have a strong association with Oswald Mosley and the British Union of Fascists. I will be running as an independent for the next election and am forming an alliance with Mr Mosley in order to get what I need from him’ he admitted to you and your chin dropped.

‘Fascism? Do you really believe in that?’ you asked, wanting to leave the driving vehicle right then and there.

‘No, but that’s not the point’ Thomas pointed out to you.

‘Whatever the point is Mr Shelby, with your condition you won’t see the next election, so why bother?’ you said angrily and with a deep sigh.

‘And that’s why I need you. You can help me accelerate what I am trying to achieve before I leave this planet and, in turn, I will help you to get your daughter back’ Tommy explained.

‘She’s not at the orphanage?’ you observed concerned.

‘She’s in London. She’s smart and was enrolled into a program for gifted children’ he told you.

‘She’s not with a family?’ you asked relieved.

‘No, and I will ensure that it stays that way so that you can be reunited once I’ve completed my mission’ Tommy told you.

‘So you are forcing me to help you so that you will help me?’ you asked with some irritation in your voice.

‘Yes but, let me ask you this Y/N, do you want a safe country for your daughter to grow up in?’ he asked.

‘Of course’ you confirmed.

‘Then you will help me do good and redeem myself’ he said and, despite some hesitation, you agreed. You had no idea what you were actually agreeing to but you needed to have your daughter back and lacked options and opportunities to achieve this without the help of Thomas Shelby.

‘Okay, I will help you Mr Shelby, but I do have one last question. How did you know that I was taken into custody?’ you asked just before Tommy pulled up in front of Arrow House.

‘I’ve received word about a woman with a German accent trying to break into my orphanage. I knew it had to be you after Frances told me about your daughter’ Tommy explained before opening the door for you and, with that, you made your way back inside the mansion.

***

When you stepped foot inside the large hallway, Frances greeted you with a smile and immediately referred to you as Mrs Schmidt.

‘I will show you to your room’ she said and, when you followed her back upstairs, you soon realised that she wasn’t leading you to the same small bedroom that she had given you before.

Your room was rather large and well decorated, like that of a madam or mistress of some sort and, when you looked into the cabinet for some work clothes, you only found expensive dresses which had been tailored to your size.

‘There must be a mistake, Frances. I am going to work as a maid for Mr Shelby’ you told her while Tommy looked at you and cocked an eyebrow.

‘I didn’t say that Love, did I?’ Tommy chuckled and you had no idea what was going on.

‘You are Hannah Schmidt now, the young widow of Dr Hugo Schmidt who, unfortunately or…should I say fortunately…was killed by two Jews in Berlin nine months ago’ Tommy explained bluntly.

‘Come again?’ you asked, chin dropping.

‘Like I said, I am need for someone who speaks German. Dr Hugo Schmidt was experimenting on the Jews at the camps and, no doubt that, being doctor, you know enough about it’ Tommy explained.

‘I think I have seen some of the experiments’ you told him.

‘Good, then you will help bring down the fascists here in England?’ Tommy asked you and you were rather surprised by his question.  

‘You know I could just go to the authorities with this information and they would probably return my daughter to me for simply providing them with your whereabouts in light of these outrageous plans of yours’ you told him, arms crossed.

‘But you won’t. I’ve done my research on you. You were with the resistance in Germany’ he told you before telling you that he would see you at dinner.

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[ragingbookdragon]

The Hero We Want To Be

Barry Allen x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I love it when superheroes don't like each other--it makes for wonderful speeches. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She idly toyed with the straps of her vambrace while Batman’s voice filtered through her ears, designations of missions, locations of anomalies, the usual agenda. The only solace she found was when Hal would occasionally slip over a constructed chess board, and she’d move a piece; she wanted to be back in Deepwater Hideaway—that or be in Central City with Barry.

Drawing her gaze to the clock, she internally sighed at the hour; there were so many things she could be doing right now if Bruce hadn’t called this meeting. Making deals with otherworldly beings, casting magic spells, crafting potions, creating sigils, doing—

“Where’s Flash?”

She looked over to Batman who was staring at Barry’s seat between hers and Hal’s. “There’s a forensic science symposium in London.” She answered coolly. “He was giving a speech over pathology and body identification.”

Before Bruce could even acknowledge her answer, a scoff sounded from the end of the table. “Of course, the Speedster gets to skip League meetings.”

Her eyes turned to Green Arrow, and she scowled. “Well sorry, Oliver. Most of us aren’t billionaires who have complete control over their schedules and can just skip out on things we’ve promised to attend.” Her expression darkened. “Maybe get off Barry’s case and worry about your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, (Y/N)?” he shot back, and Superman cleared his throat.

“Alright, let’s all settle down.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “No. He wants to do this now, we’ll do this now.” She glowered at Oliver. “You just hate the fact that everyone likes Barry, don’t you? It just drives you up the wall that other than Superman, the Flash is the one superhero that everyone deems the greatest alive.”

Oliver growled at her. “He’s a fucking hypocrite.”

“So are you, or have you forgotten that most people don’t like billionaires.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “It’s because Barry doesn’t need to prove anything to be a hero.”

“What?”

She stood up, pointing a finger at Barry’s empty chair. “That’s the thing about Barry Allen. He’s the same man under the cowl as the one sitting in his lab. He doesn’t need the speed force to be a hero—he merely is.”

Oliver scoffed. “Without the speed, he’s—”

“The greatest man alive,” (Y/N) interrupted. “All of us? We need our skills and magics and equipment to be heroes. But Barry?” she shook her head. “Take away the speed and what would you leave Barry with?”

Her head tipped up and she declared, “You leave a man who scours crime scenes for hours on end to find one shred of evidence to bring justice to victims. You leave a man who befriends everyone he meets because he believes in the power of friendship. You leave behind a man who strives for justice in everything.”

(Y/N)’s voice never lost it’s strength as she finished, “You leave behind a man who never gives up on redeeming people because he sees the good in them.” She pointed at Oliver once more. “And that’s what you’ve never understood about Barry Allen—and it’s something you never will.”

For the first time since she’d met the headstrong archer, he’d been stunned silent, and the weight of her words finally hit her—she’d practically just admitted her love for the Speedster.

Swallowing thickly, she looked over at Bruce and said, “I’ll take the anomaly in Saint Augustine.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked to the Zeta-Tubes.

***

Waving her hand around the orb, she watched carefully as it swirled with mystical patterns. Probably of fae origins, if her guess was correct, and sure enough the emblem of the fae wings appeared in her vision. Her face pinched. Fae magic was always a pain to dispel and typically used up a good chunk of her mana reserve.

Resigning herself, she placed her hands on either side of the orb and shut her eyes, starting to dispel the enchantments. Her limbs shook and her breathing labored, but she kept her grasp until the orb cracked beneath her fingers.

With a shuddering exhale, she stepped back and let her knees give way, ready to collapse onto the floor when arms caught her, gently lowering her down; (Y/N) blearily looked over, confusedly asking, “Barry, what are you doing here?”

He smiled at her. “Well, I figured my knight in shining armor deserved a warm welcome from her fair prince.”

“You’re a goof,” she huffed with humor, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “Just give me a moment to catch my breath and I’ll get up.”

Barry shook his head, curling an arm under her legs. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll take you back to Deepwater.”

Nodding her head, she shut her eyes and let him run them across the world, and when she opened her eyes again, she was greeted by her dimly lit, but warmed hideaway. Barry set her down on one of her padded chairs and hurried into her kitchen, returning with a warm mug.

(Y/N) took it with a smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, sitting down beside her, watching as she sipped the tea, a look of relief settling across her face; it made his heart flutter and he remembered why he came to find her. “Hal showed me the footage of this evening’s meeting.”

Her eyes met his over the cup and she admitted, “I got ahead of myself.” A sigh escaped her. “I know Oliver’s full of hot air, but I just got irritated. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Barry replied. “I appreciate you standing up for me in my absence.” He reached up and stuck his thumbs under his cowl, pulling it off and he gazed at her with those beautiful blue eyes. “And I appreciate what you said about me, (Y/N). About being a hero even if I didn’t have the speed force.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and her heart thumped against her rib cage as she confessed, “It’s the truth, Barry. You’re the greatest of us all. The one we all strive to be inside and outside of the suit.” (Y/N) gazed at him. “You’re who I try to be when I’m not being Auroras. Who I try to be when I’m just (Y/N).”

Barry’s smile was so soft and kind that it made her want to cry and he stood from his seat to kneel in front of her; he gently took her hands in his, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles as he murmured, “While I’m honored that you try to emulate me (Y/N)…there’s no one I’d rather you be, than you.” He leant forward and kissed her hands. “Because that’s what I love about you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, and she let out a bubbly laugh. “Damn I owe Hal twenty dollars now.”

“What?” Barry chuckled and she shook her head, cupping his cheeks.

“Nothing,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips.

[astrofamous]

Kim Namjoon aka RM from BTS and the Astrology of Chiron.

There was a quote from RM (Namjoon) recently where he said that he ‘wasn’t happy anymore and there is no more fun’. This created a stir with Army (BTS fans) where they became worried for his safety and state of mind. I thought it would be a good idea to take a look at RM’s astrology chart to see what may be going on at this time in his life.

I was unable to find a time a birth, but the date is good enough for what we need to explain here.

The first thing and most important thing that jumps off this chart is his Sun Chiron conjunction. The Sun in anyone’s chart is a description of their ego or their opinion of themselves. Their ego is not them but rather how their inner self sees them. We see that the Sun is conjunct Chiron so there is a lot of identification with the mythological centaur. The Sun brings to life those characteristics of what it touches in the chart. So who was or is Chiron you ask? Let’s have a look.

When reading about Chiron remember that RM was born with some of his attributes and lives them out either consciously or unconsciously.

Chiron was a centaur half man half horse. Most centaurs were brutal rough animalistic beings…but not Chiron. Chiron was knowledgeable in the arts, was regularly a gentle and civilized soul, and was a skilled and trained warrior. He was known as the Great Teacher, wise, intelligent yet wholly dangerous-if-pushed. Hmmm RM… Wise, intelligent and the Great Teacher… sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

His taught his students poetry, history, speech, and critical thinking skills. He also knew medicine and the crafts of healing. Chiron like RM was a true leader….. but he became wounded…

Without getting too deep into the mythology, Chiron was struck by an arrow. This arrow caused him pain. So anyone with a tight Chiron aspect in their chart will experience pain either physically or emotionally. So when RM says ‘he wasn’t happy anymore’ I knew that his Chiron aspect was getting challenged.

Turns out that transiting Chiron.. the wounded healer is making a difficult aspect to RM’s Sun/Chiron in his natal chart. So he is feeling the pain of the arrow during this time.

In the end the mythology of Chiron tells the tale of Chiron making a deal to sacrifice his own life to free Promethius. It shows the selflessness of this god. He was always concerned as is RM about helping and teaching other people even while experiencing his own pain. That is why he is called the Wounded Healer.

Chiron like RM is a true spiritual leader who at times has to contend with his own personal issues but still keep a strong face for the public.

We don’t have his birth time but we do know that transiting Chiron is going through his eight Solar House. Transiting Chiron in the 8th house can focus on his deepest wounds, the ones he doesn't want to deal with but has to. 8th house issues are things in your life that are hidden, sexuality, other people’s money, taxes and death. Chiron wants RM to heal them, and it can be a very emotional experience, sometimes traumatizing, but provides an opportunity to truly and totally heal. He may undergo a transformation during this time.

This transit for RM will last on and off again until March of 2024. He will be making adjustments in his life from now until then to minimize and transform from the pain he is going through. I’m sure his Army will be there to support him along the way to give back what he has given his fans over the years. 

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Medevac- Clint Barton (1)

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Characters: Clint Barton

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- Hi can I request a Clint Barton x reader romantic relationship The reader getting hurt during a mission and then find out she’s pregnant?

Word Count: 493

Author: Charlotte

You grabbed another arrow from your quiver prepared for your next encounter with anyone. Clint kicked down the next door, leaving you to cover him if any of the HYDRA agents were in the office that you were about to enter. As soon as you saw the HYDRA patch on the uniform, you released your arrow before preparing a second to shoot at the second agent in the room. Both men fell to the floor. You each rushed to one of the agents, taking any weapons, keys or identification from them, knowing that they would likely come in handy.

“See if this works,” you said to your husband, throwing over the key card that you had found in the agent’s shirt pocket.

Clint rushed to the computer whilst you went the opposite way to the door. You closed it, pushing a chair under the handle. It wouldn’t necessarily stop anyone getting in for long, but it would give you enough notice to be able to fight back instead of being caught unawares.

You had originally met Clint when you were training as SHIELD agents, becoming close friends and blossoming a romance. It didn’t take long before you were seasoned agents and married and then became avengers together. He was your partner in life, marriage and work, neither of you doing much without having the other there.

You made your way over to the computer where Clint was working his way to get into it to gain the files that you had been sent for.

“Do we have everything to get in?” You questioned.

“I think so,” he said, half listening but mainly focusing on what he was doing.

For the second you had focused on your husband, you hadn’t paid any attention to the two men that were on the floor. By the time you heard one of them move, you already had a gun pointed at you. You reached for one of the pistols you had taken from them but as you managed to point it back at him and pull the trigger, the bullet had already ripped through your shoulder.

You let out a scream, Clint grabbing hold of you before you could stumble back onto the desk behind you. With you in one arm, he moved to press his communication device.

“Y/N is down,” he shouted. “Medevac now! We’ll be at the west exit in five.”

“No,” you groaned. “I’m fine, we can finish.”

He shook his head. “We’re getting you help, fuck this mission, I’m not losing you.”

You knew that there was no point in arguing with him. You loved Clint dearly, but you knew that he could be stubborn, especially when it came to your wellbeing.

“He had an ankle holster, I didn’t see it,” you grunted. “I’m sorry.”

Clint grabbed anything that he could find before grabbing hold of you to help support you as he would help you get out of the building.

“Don’t apologise.”

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

For me a theme of Harry's work is often Man Angst and I find it doesn't resonate with me. Louis' work also speaks of pain, but somehow it feels more human and less dude-centric? I'm struggling to articulate why one feels more accessible and the other more colored with shades of the patriarchy. Anyways, hope your day is swell.

This is a really interesting question (and my most common response to the best anons is not to respond to them for six months).

I have a similar reaction to you and I'm interested in why? How much of my reaciton is textual and how much of it is extra textual?

I think textually there are a number of both explicit and implicit ways that Harry's songs are gendered - they are as you say about men's pain and not pain in general.

The most explicit is the use of 'boy' in TBSL. It's not just the use of a gendered term, but using it with a declaration of irresponsibility. The basic idea of TBSL is that the narrator is sad and his feelings are important and he's not responsible for any of it - he's expecting others to be responsible for his feelings. And in our society men are culturally the ones who are allowed to claim that importance for their feelings and make them other people's problems. (I think many women may want that feeling - and may identify with TBSL on those terms - but I don't think it's written in a way that invites interpretation, and instead emphasises that this is an experience that is supposed to be for men).

Then we have phrases like 'wandering hands' and 'playing with myself', which aren't quite as explicitly gendered, but are tied to masculinity on several levels. Wandering hands is a phrase that is used almost exclusively about men (even if we assume the implication of non consent was unintentional). Certainly there's a lot more leeway in our culture for men who cheat in some way - and the act of saying (assuming that is what the narrator is saying) 'I cheated, but I also need a lot of attention on my feelings and how important they are' is reserved for men. Meanwhile women might talk about playing with themselves - but because it's so much rarer to talk about female sexual pleasure - the association of talking about masturbating and being pathetic is very associated with men. Kind of by definition women who talk about wanking aren't being pathetic because it takes a kind of defiance to talk about sexual pleasure openly.

I do think textually the songs are quite gendered - and gendered in ways that are very much about the way men's feelings are treated seriously in art and women's are not.

To me the context also matters - in HS1 you had these songs where Harry talked about women in ways that showed no interest in their interiority at all (Kiwi, Only Angel, Carolina and Woman). I've said this before, but that really amplified the man angst tone of From the Dining Table. The effect on me of that combination, was one of alienation. I'd be really interested to hear from people who experience them differently. But the impression I get very much is that Harry's saddest songs are songs don't reach out and invite identification - and instead invite you to feel for the narrator.

I think what makes something man angst, rather than just angst, is an expectation that the feelings that someone is sharing are very important and should be taken seriously, alongside a lack of interest in the feelings of other people. And obviously women can feel and want both those things. But culturally there is very little space for women to demand that their feelings are important and women have heaps of expectations to take care of the feelings of others. Because of this, I think if a song about the importance of the narrator's feelings is going to invite women to identify with it (rather than just be part of hte audience for the narrator's important feelings) then that's something that has to be deliberately crafted into the song. That casual gendering of the narrator has a bigger impact making the song about men rather than about people, when the song is talking about an experience that women are not supposed to have.

********

I do think Louis' saddest songs take a very different approach to that angst. Rather than expecting the audience to feel for the narrator, they're set up much more for the audience to identify with the narrator. And I can think of a few features of the songs that make me think that Louis' songs are more about identification, but I'm not sure if I'm quite capturing all that's going on.

I'm thinking primarily about his songs about romantic love - Habit, Too Young, Walls, DLIBYH, Defenceless. Although I think the context of TOU does make a difference, because it sets an expectation that the listener will identify with the narrator in the songs.

The two biggest features of those songs are connection and vulnerability. Even the most self-pitying of those songs, still is interested in and seeks connection with whoever it's talking about. (I think it's really interesting is that the impact of that desire to connect is to make the song more accessible for identification, because you'd think the fact that the narrator wants to connect with the object of the song would make the idea of being someone who listened to the song more appealing, but I don't think that's how it works. But that's somewhat of a side point). Then there's vulnerability, without the protective shield of claiming that the narrators feelings are important.

So is the explanation just that Louis' songs invite identification, and don't explore approaches to emotions that our society only legitimises for men? Or is there something more going on? Is there a connection between that vulnerability and connection and gender. Or is it just that Louis' songs are aiming for identification? What's the relationship between those two things.

**********

I have a lot of other thoughts about this (Harry uses the imperative voice a lot in his feeling sad songs - I suspect that's relevant). But I just want to briefly emphasise that this is not about the quality of their songs, but different ways of operating.

I don't think that identification is the goal in a lot of the songs Harry' writes. I think that feeling of seperation - where

And I also wonder how connected these various things are - and if they're less connected than I think, when just talking about these two examples. Because the most arrow to the heart song about unrequited love I know is also unmistakeably from the point of view of a misogynist teenage boy (The Saturday Boy by Billy Bragg). There have been times of my life when: 'I never understood my failings then/And I hide my humble hopes now' spoke to me like no other words in the English language. And the lyrics that came before and after that didn't stop me from knowing that I had experienced that feeling too.

And my point isn't to compare Louis and Harry as lyricists to Billy Bragg, but just thinking how many different ways a song can speak to you or not.

I'm really interested in hearing other people's thoughts about this, and the way people relate to the songs. Are there women who listen to Falling and feel like they're Harry? (I feel like reviews have implied that some men do). What makes a man's angst Man Angst? What about a song invites identificaiton, and what makes it suggest that the narrator wants people to feel for him, not feel the things he says? Is there any connection.

[girlactionfigure]

Worn and weary, balding, with sad eyes, Raoul Wallenberg looked much older than his 31 years of age when in 1944 he was assigned the responsibility of saving Jews in Hungary. The assignment came by way of the War Refugee Board, an American organization formed that same year with the goal of saving Jews from persecution by the Nazis.

Raoul, who had some Jewish lineage but was not considered Jewish, was born in Sweden to a prominent family of bankers, diplomats, and politicians. He was expected to follow in the footsteps of his family, but he decided to become an architect.

He went to study architecture in America, at the University of Michigan. During his time in college, Raoul worked odd jobs despite his family’s wealth, and hitchhiked across the US, Canada, and Mexico during holidays. He continued hitchhiking even after getting robbed and thrown into a ditch by four men who offered him a lift. In a letter to his grandfather, Raoul wrote of his love of hitchhiking, “When you travel like a hobo, everything’s different. You have to be on the alert the whole time. You’re in close contact with new people every day. Hitchhiking gives you training in diplomacy and tact.” 

Raoul finished the University of Michigan with honors, even winning a medal for his scholastic achievements. Unable to find architecture work in Sweden after graduation, Raoul briefly lived in South Africa, soon moving to Palestine for a banking apprenticeship. It was in Palestine that Raoul first encountered Jewish refugees from Germany. The refugees made a strong impact on Raoul.

Upon returning to Sweden, Raoul went into the import/export business with a man of Hungarian Jewish decent. Once it became harder for his partner to travel to Hungary due to his being Jewish, Raoul started making the trips himself. He traveled frequently to Budapest, learned Hungarian in addition to his already knowing French, English, German, and Russian, and ultimately went on to head the international arm of the business, soon becoming a joint owner of the company.

In 1944 Germany occupied Hungary. At the time of the occupation, Hungary had close to 700,000 Jewish citizens. By the time Raoul arrived in Hungary on his mission of rescue, over 400,000 of them had been sent to Auschwitz.

Raoul wasted no time. He did everything he could think of to save Jewish people. He bribed, extorted, bluffed, and threatened to achieve his aims of saving as many people as possible.

With a fellow Swedish diplomat he created official looking protective passes to give out to Jews granting them Swedish citizenship and making them exempt from wearing the yellow badge that Nazis required them to wear. Sandor Ardai, one of Raoul’s drivers, recalled a time when Raoul came upon a train full of Jews about to depart to Auschwitz,

“He climbed up on the roof of the train and began handing in protective passes through the doors which were not yet sealed. He ignored orders from the Germans for him to get down, then the Arrow Cross [the Hungarian Nazi party] men began shooting and shouting at him to go away. He ignored them and calmly continued handing out passports to the hands that were reaching out for them. I believe the Arrow Cross men deliberately aimed over his head, as not one shot hit him, which would have been impossible otherwise. I think this is what they did because they were so impressed by his courage. After Wallenberg had handed over the last of the passports he ordered all those who had one to leave the train and walk to the caravan of cars parked nearby, all marked in Swedish colours. I don’t remember exactly how many, but he saved dozens off that train, and the Germans and Arrow Cross were so dumbfounded they let him get away with it!”

In total Raoul gave out tens of thousands of such protective passes, but the German government eventually caught on to the ruse and ruled the passes invalid. When Raoul heard of this, he called on Baroness Elisabeth Kemeny, the wife of the Hungarian Minister for Foreign Affairs in Budapest, for help,

‘’Raoul implored me to help. He was desperate. I talked to my husband and said he must do something. He told me ‘I can’t fight the whole cabinet.’ But after midnight word came that 9,000 passes would be honored. I can still remember Raoul’s elation, his happiness.’’ The baroness had finally persuaded her husband to help by threatening to leave him if he didn’t.

When the Germans abandoned the use of trains to transport Jewish prisoners, instead forming 125 mile death marches toward Auschwitz, Raoul began visiting stopping areas to save people.

“‘You there!’ The Swede pointed to an astonished man, waiting for his turn to be handed over to the executioner. ‘Give me your Swedish passport and get in that line,’ he barked. ‘And you, get behind him. I know I issued you a passport.’ Wallenberg continued, moving fast, talking loud, hoping the authority in his voice would somewhat rub off on these defeated people…The Jews finally caught on. They started groping in pockets for bits of identification. A driver’s license or birth certificate seemed to do the trick. The Swede was grabbing them so fast; the Nazis, who couldn’t read Hungarian anyway, didn’t seem to be checking. Faster, Wallenberg’s eyes urged them, faster, before the game is up. In minutes he had several hundred people in his convoy. International Red Cross trucks, there at Wallenberg’s behest, arrived and the Jews clambered on…”

In one of his final acts of rescue, Raoul intimidated the supreme commander of German forces in Hungary, Major-General Gerhard Schmidthuber, into not blowing up a Jewish ghetto housing 70,000 people. As the war was coming to an end and there was not enough time to send the remaining Jews to Auschwitz, Adolf Eichmann, a major organizer of the Holocaust, ordered the slaughter of all Hungarian Jews in one mass execution. When Raoul found out about this, he sent word to Schmidthuber that if he were to go through with the slaughter, Raoul would personally see that he was hanged for crimes against humanity after the war. Knowing that Hitler was close to defeat, Schmidthuber acquiesced and called off the massacre.

Raoul took such risks because his perspective on the work he was doing was simple, “I will never be able to go back to Sweden without knowing inside myself that I’d done all a man could do to save as many Jews as possible.”

In total Raoul saved close to 100,000 Jews. He himself was captured by the Soviets on suspicion of being a spy and is presumed to have died a Soviet prisoner.

Historical Snapshots