#sup doc

[docholligay]

One of my absolute favorite things about this show is the tonal shift it often has in the beginning, with this super dark open and then this incredibly upbeat theme ahaha. It reminds of the early days of Glee, where you would have something like, “And it was then I knew I was alone” and the commercial break would start with “Glee!”

[leaderintitleonly]

Naughty or Nice?

“Congratulations, Doc! You've made the Nice List! JUST KIDDING. You've been a very bad, bad person.”

Well. He tried. But losing custody of Dopey, fighting with his daughter, and having so much depression and apathy that you decide not to go save your people is probably putting him on the most naughty part of that list. If you’ll excuse him, he’s going to slink off somewhere. He should have seen this coming.

[cod-dump]

Soldier: Calling my superiors by their legal names! _

Soldier: Sup, John Price, staring at him: Don't do that Soldier: ... I'm sorry _ Soldier: How's it going, Kyle? Gaz: Oh I don't like that. Mm, no, sure do not Soldier, laughing: Something wrong, Kyle? Gaz: No no- no likey Soldier: *laughs* _ Soldier: Hey, John, can you sign this doc for me? Soap: Sure- No. No absolutely not Soldier: Please, Johnny- Soap: NO _ Soldier: Hey, Simon, can- Ghost: THE FUCK YOU CALL ME?? Soldier: I'M SORRY Ghost: I KNOW WHERE YOU'RE SLEEPING AT ALL TIMES Soldier: I'M SORRY I'M SORRY- _ (bonus) Soldier: Hey, Kate Laswell: *stops walking and swivels her head around to stare* Soldier: ... This is scarier than LT yelling at me

[kelpeigh]

In the spirit of every goddamn IP under the sun getting a reboot (and the fact that I’m watching DW for the first time in 2024), I am taking it upon myself to reboot the SuperWhoLock fandom.

Like most reboots the politics will be updated and there will be some fun homages to the original. But rest assured we’ll have typical reboot problems like ignoring a big chunk of the original material (NO Sherlock fans will actually be allowed. Of course) and making arbitrary changes for the sake of “refreshing” the image

For instance, we’re redoing the portmanteau

[lz-didyounotice]

“ It was quite a sunny day today”

This gif doesn't belong to me.

Heyyyy! 'sup, let me give you a small temporal paradox with a reader meeting 9th while traveling with Bow tie man. Hope you enjoy it.

Plot hevealy inspired by this work by : @am-i-obsessed---maybe : "Wrong Tardis".

Warning : english is not my first language, so please be indulgent. Might contain a little bit of ansgt, but a lot of comfort for our doctor.

Froggit-

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

The TARDIS had made a strange calculation once again. The Doctor found himself on Earth, in London, yet unsure of the reason behind his visit, still attempting to pick up the signal.

While examining the screens and discussing the matter with his temporary companion, Jack, the doors unexpectedly opened on their own, despite being locked. A female voice called out, leaving him uncertain how to react. The man beside him mirrored his expression before attempting to prevent the stranger from entering.

"Doctor! I thought you were only picking me up at seven; you’re early."

Turning toward the door, the Doctor watched warily as a woman with (h/c) hair approached the console, attempting to send a message to what seemed to be a friend.

"You're awfully quiet, are you okay, darling?" Finally looking up from her phone, the girl realized the situation she had stumbled into. Lifting her chin, she found Jack’s chest mere centimeters from her nose. "Jack? How are you here?" It had been a while since she had seen Jack. His appearances had dwindled after the Ponds began traveling with the Doctor.

“And who might you be, beautiful lady?”

At that moment, she realized her mistake. Looking past the captain, she saw someone she didn’t recognize at first. His hair was too short, his ears larger, and his style vastly different. This wasn’t her Doctor and his gaze indicated that he had never met her before. She had entered the wrong TARDIS. At least with Jack's presence, she assumed he was still with Rose, but she didn’t seem to be with them.

Deciding to take responsibility, she assumed a different identity, at least temporarily. Using a past name seemed the safest option. Neither of them would recognize her if something went wrong.

“Sorry for the intrusion. Name's Sunny. I’m a 'future' friend.”

“Sunny? What a wonderful name. Well, I suppose you already know who I am, but I'll introduce myself anyway. Jack Harkness. Pleasure to meet you.”

Extending his hand, she accepted it with a slight smile. She had forgotten how charming his younger self could be.

“Pleasure to meet you too. So, tell me, what brought you both here? I can only imagine some kind of Sontaran planting a bomb again.”

“Again?” asked the Doctor, now fully turned toward her.

“Spoilers,” she said with a small smile as she examined the younger Doctor. Even with a different face, he was still mesmerizing. She wondered what his smile would look like if he wasn’t frowning so much. She wanted to kiss his forehead, smooth it from any wrinkles.

“We have picked up a strange signal in the middle of London.”

“Never would have thought to be called a strange signal.”

“How could you be the signal?” Asked Jack, now leaning against the rail.

“Your little emitter is dying in my pocket. Distress signal, I guess. When you left me, you were going to look for a new one.” As she put her hands in her pockets, she pulled out a small phone wired with other components.

Approaching the console, she gently brushed it, lingering with a small smile at the old console. “Hello, old girl,” she thought, before handing the device over to the Doctor for analysis.

“How come you have this? I haven't finished this prototype yet.”

“Told you, future friend.”

And there it was, the smile she had been looking for. She almost wished she had met the Doctor sooner to see more of it. Sensing the tension, Jack excused himself, wanting to “explore” for a bit before returning to his time.

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

The sound of the sonic made her feel dizzy. The silence felt weird, at least to her. The Doctor hadn’t met her yet, after all, but here she was with a younger version of himself, filling her chest with butterflies .

“So, tell me, why would I give you this sort of device? Do you get lost so often that I need to provide it?”

“Kinda…”

“When are we meant to meet?”

“Hey… Spoilers, darling.”

“And why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“What are we? Obviously, we are not just friends with those eyes.”

If only he knew. Fiddling with the three rings on her hand, she smiled, thinking back to her “wedding.” It was under weird circumstances, yes, but she couldn’t have wished for a better way. The Doctor, River, and her, before the universe.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out...” Fully turning to face him, she took his hand, their ringed fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to be. “You know what? I suppose I could give you a small glimpse into the future. I’ll give you three questions. Of course, I won't provide anything that could disrupt your timeline. I'd be an awful partner if I did.”

“Partner?”

Looking at his hand in hers, he wanted to ask about the rings. Why were there three, and not one? Was she married to multiple people?

”Why three rings?”

“A promise for each heart. Two were given to me by the man I love, and the last one by a particularly dashing anthropologist.”

“What promise did you make?”

“I promised to always come back to them, no matter what life brings. To love them until the end of the universe without doubt. To love them until I truly die.” As she spoke, he could see the affection she held for those individuals. It wasn’t just promises; she had already fulfilled them before and would do so again if needed.

Thinking back to what was just revealed, he felt his ears burn. Two rings for two hearts . That man was him, at least his future self! Looking at her with wide eyes, he slowly pointed at her and then himself, still unsure of the implications. Her smile melted his hearts as he realized he had guessed correctly. He couldn’t wait to meet her again, but the fact that she had made such a promise meant something significant had happened.

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

“Not in the way you might think.” Lifting her free hand, she cradled his face, brushing his cheek affectionately. “I made this promise on the day of our first encounter. It wasn’t easy for either of us, but there was only one way out of that situation. And I'll have you know it wasn’t your fault. Years from now, you still think of that day as a dark one, where you lost someone once more. To me, it was one of the brightest days in the universe. That day, I finally had a purpose, something to keep going. And I think you tend to forget how powerful your name can be, how much hope you give by simply giving others a way to shine.”

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

She went to release his hand, but he held onto it, wanting to savor the moment a few seconds longer. It felt weird, he never had met her before, but here he was trying to make her stay.

“How long until I meet you?”

“I thought I only gave you three questions.”

And there it was, that pleading look he gave her when he wanted something. Those two blue eyes piercing her heart with curiosity, wanting to know more about their first encounter.

“It's going to be a while before you find me, and a brief trip to France to meet me for the first time. And when I say we’re going to meet again, I might have to relearn how to be myself before catching up with  you.”

As she finished her explanation, she heard a faint and familiar whirring noise from the other side of the TARDIS doors. Giving a final smile to the Doctor, she kissed his forehead before finally letting go of his hand.

“Well, this is my leave. See you soon, Doctor…”

And as the TARDIS doors closed, the man beside the console was left in daze. Confused yet excited by this new encounter. This woman was someone he would travel with, fall for, and marry. But what struck him the most was what she had implied: they would meet again and again, yet she would forget it at some point. It pained him a bit to know, but he couldn’t wait to meet her again.

As Jack made his way back, “Sunny” was nowhere to be seen. In her place, a grinning doctor, holding the now repaired device in his hand. Thoughts of a brighter future flooding his mind. 

—---------------

Bonus : 

“(Y/N) I found what we were searching for !” Did Your doctor exclaim, meeting your gaze with a bright and excited smile. The one you always loved to see. “Also found a yellow note with a sun on it, not sure why, don’t remember putting it here.” 

Giving you both, you smiled at the small note. A sun circling a small sentence. “ It was quite a sunny day today”.  Smirking silently, you finally brought the device to your now empty pockets, and folded the small note to put in your phone case.

“Come here bow tie maniac” Reaching for his bow tie, you planted your lips on his forehead before kissing him on the lips. 

“How come I didn't know you had worn leather jackets before ?” Did you ask him with a teasing tone.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 4

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.4

"If we’re going to get to the pit of this peach we gotta get some variables outta the way first. I need a scan of his brain and yours. While conscious.”

“Mine as well?”

“You said he’s your identical twin - he should be genetically the same as you. We can use a scan of your brain as a comparison to see if there’s physical damage on the organ itself, because brain damage is the most common cause of amnesia.”

“I do have the technology available for an in-depth scan, but… ”

 “But what?”

“It’s in the shape of a ray gun, but like a traditional MRI whoever is getting scanned has to stay completely still.”

“I don’t s’pose in the time it took me to go into town and get supplies, you managed to reconcile with him?”

“Reconcile? He’s still convinced I’m a mad scientist out to harvest his organs, 'or worse turn him over to the IRS'- don’t ask about that second part. If I point anything gun-shaped at him, he’ll freak out.”

“Can’t say I blame him…”

“Hush, Fiddleford. There’s an easy way we can get him to hold still.”

“Stanford- Stanford put the tranquilizing doohickey away. We both know that concoction of yours wasn’t formulated with humans in mind. Surely you have less caustic means of sedation.”

---

“Stanford, anyone can tell that bottle’s been tampered with.”

“I have a theory that this persona of his is so self-destructive he’ll still drink it.”

“Y’know, this bottled water tastes suspiciously like two crushed Ambien tablets.” 

*Stan keeps drinking it anyways*  

“I am impressed, but I also hate that your theory was correct.”

*Ford undeafens the cell*

“Stanley, if you think there’s zolpidem in that, why are you still drinking it?”

“You think two Ambien is enough to take me down? Guess again, I’ve used this stuff to cut coke. You’re gonna have to try harder than that, PhD.” 

“Hmm, so we should have used Coca-Cola instead of water…”

“That ain’t what he meant by- how did you survive by yourself out here?”

---

“Hello there …Stan?”

“Sup babe.”

“Don’t call me that. I was wondering - you’re so handsome already, but it’d surely tickle my fancy a bit more if you put on this here necktie.”

“Hell no.”

“Do you not know how to tie one? I’d be happy to-.”

“I know how to tie a tie, specs. But I’ll never wear a necktie ever again. Not after Colombia… I still can’t shave that part of my jaw without nightmares.”

“I beg your pardon?”

---

“I couldn’t convince him to put the mind control tie on.”

“Fiddleford, why are you staring a thousand yards away?”

“He was explaining to me his time in Colombian prison, then he went on a tangent about necklaces and now I don’t think I can change a tire without thinking about it ever again.”

“... Interesting. We’re not resorting to the tranq gun yet?”

“This is your own brother you’re talking about.” 

“There’s only one thing we can do. The only thing that will 99.99% work on my brother. I didn’t think it would have to come to this so soon. But it’s our only unharmful option left.”

---

“Stanley.”

“Doc.”

“I will give you twenty dollars if you stay still for thirty whole seconds.”

“On one hand this is a set up… On the other hand, I’ve done worse for twenty dollars.”

“You what ?”

“Ten bucks up front.”

To be continued...

[xhxhxhx]

Let's actually write something today.

I.

I've spent the past few days writing a script.

There's nothing novel about it. It's not interesting. But it should save me some time, time that I can spend reading or writing. And that's good enough for me.

But before I describe the script, I have to explain what it's for.

II.

I wrote the script to complete part of what I call the index.

The index is a series of Google Docs. They're bundled together in a folder, but I have them linked from my home screen and assigned them hotkey links on my browser.

The index has three parts. The first addresses the Constitution, with entries arranged under the constitutional text. The second addresses everything else, with entries in alphabetical order.

Each part consists of a number of topic headings, with the text of the authority as needed, followed by lists of authorities and readings, and then by cross-references.

Each entry should be correct and full in its authorities and readings, but should contain nothing more than a simple, bare citation. Anything more than that would slow me down.

III.

Each part is divided into different documents, each with its own headings, texts, authorities and readings.

There are tables that arrange the documents, providing a simple count of their number. The first part spans 58 documents. That's the Constitution. The second, on everything else, spans 139.

Each of those documents is separately linked from my home screen, each an entry on one of twenty 4x4 panels, each arranged in ordinal or alphabetical order.

These numbers are an imprecise index of scale. The documents themselves have no fixed length. The longest is currently "Judiciar," at 250 pages; "Im" is 127 pages.

By habit, I split them when load times became troublesome, or when I'm working from an entry partway down the page. But I haven't split all the troublesome ones. They could always be longer.

IV.

The indexes are meant to supply and track my reading.

The readings are the most important part here. They are my reading lists. They are where I put the materials I want to read, may want to read, or have read.

To supply my readings, I added headings, readings, and authorities as I came across them. I wasn't systematic about it; I added them more by habit than by rule.

It didn't have to be systematic. Docs made it easy to add and revise. If I discovered a newer, better structure for a topic, I could move the entries around.

To track my reading, I highlighted. If I had read something, I would highlight it in the lightest shade of green.

I'd ultimately like to simplify that work, with a script to propagate the highlighting across all instances of the reading. But I'm not clever enough to know where to start.

Except on the third part of the index.

V.

The third part is the opinion index.

The opinion index contains headings for each justice, with their reported opinions arranged in chronological order by year, then by reporter, then by volume and page number.

The opinion index is smallest part of the index. It spans sixteen documents, split chronologically, by Chief Justice. But within each document, the justices are arranged alphabetically.

Until yesterday, I needed to add each opinion by hand. Each time I added an opinion under a topic heading, I would need to add another entry to the opinion index.

And each time I added an opinion from the United States Reports, which was where most of the opinions came from, I would add, by hand, another link to the Library of Congress.

And there were 29,138 cases with written opinions in the reports.

VI.

The United States Reports is the official reporter of the opinions of the Supreme Court of the United States.

The Supreme Court uses the language of "official and unofficial reports" to refer to the opinions of inferior courts, Sup. Ct. R. 14.1(d), but not its own. R. 41. But what "official" means here is that the Court prepares its opinions, through its own officers, and prints them at its own direction. 28 U.S.C. § 673; Sup. Ct. R. 41.

The Court does that through the Court's reporter of decisions.

The Supreme Court's reporter of decisions is appointed by, and removable by, "the Court"; they prepare the Court's decisions "under the direction of the Court or the Chief Justice"; and they handle the Court's printing and binding "subject to the approval of the Court or the Chief Justice." 28 U.S.C. § 673.

The language makes for some unhelpful ambiguity as to whether the reporter takes direction from "the Court or the Chief Justice," id., but it's "official" either way.

The Court has some unique printing powers. The Court is not bound to the Government Printing Office, to which all other federal organs are bound to submit their printing and binding orders, 44 U.S.C. § 501, but the Office is bound to take the Court's requisitions. 28 U.S.C. §§ 411(c), 412. And so they do.

Everywhere else, the Office makes the printing decisions, at the direction of certain members of Congress. 44 U.S.C. § 101. They fix the standards. § 509. But the Court is exempt. There, "[t]he reporter shall determine the quality and size of the paper, type, format, proofs and binding." 28 U.S.C. § 673.

But enough about that.

VII.

The Library of Congress provides PDFs of each opinion in the United States reports down to volume 570. Each opinion are available at a standard address, keyed to the volume and page number:

https://tile.loc.gov/storage-services/service/ll/usrep/usrep{volume_str}/usrep{volume_str}{page_str}/usrep{volume_str}{page_str}.pdf

Note that {volume_str} and {page_str} are each three digits long, so they need leading zeroes:

volume_str = f"{int(volume):03d}" page_str = f"{int(page):03d}"

This doesn't catch all the opinions, but it probably catches 99 percent of the decided cases.

In 1888 and again in 1893, the Supreme Court printed bundles of unpublished decisions dating back to 1839 in appendices to the reporter. The formula doesn't catch those, but it does catch just about everything else.

VIII.

There are about 29,138 cases with reported opinions in the U.S. reports. It'd take a long time to copy down each one, by hand, and add the right link.

But what if, instead of writing down each entry, by hand, I simply copied over every opinion, with the right link, at once?

And that's what the script was for.

[pastel-clown-friends]

Literally how the treebark vs rendoc thing should end.

Martyn: this is my boyfriend Ren and this is Ren's husband Doc.

Ren: Sup dude!

Doc: Hello.

Martyn: I hate Doc.

Ren: that's not what you said yestur-

Martyn: CEASE-

[meraki-sunset]

ur doc is literally nothing but shitty davejade overrated ass fanservice galore where all of the usesless boring ass side characters that nobody cares abt are brought back to life for no legit reason other than fanservice istg, and there’s also no legit way for sprites to even “””god tier””” anyway since they’re literally just made to be sprites for the players and not just some living person or whatever plus davepeta x Jade is better anyway since jade canonically kissed nepeta so yeah/neg

Sup dude, how’re you doing? I think you may have gotten the wrong idea.

I actually really love canon, I love the original story and if I had the chance to change it I wouldn’t. And I’m really looking forward to reading the rest of Homestuck2

I made this AU for fun. You know what fun is, right? Yeah, this is a corny AU where I make the ships I like happen, background characters are back to life and people talk their problems out instead of fighting that much, because I like writing dialog more than choreographing battles Because that’s the magic of AUs, you make shit that didn’t happen in canon happen in a different timeline. Because it’s justified kinda by happening in a different universe.

You can absolutely despise my comic, everybody have pieces of media they hate. But you should also touch some grass my guy, these characters aren’t real. I love them and I share my feelings through them, but at the end of the day, they’re pixels on a screen and words in a file.

Internet content isn’t everything. Take care.

[ariathelamia]

Hellhound HRT - Day -???

Little note at the start: Hellhound HRT is being written by Arynia, who is a alter... the only alter in this system ^^ Since she is unable to front so far, we decided to have her write the story~ well she tells me what to write and i do that~ Don't worry, Lamia HRT is going to continue! It's just a bit of a drawing rut on my end^^..

Thank you @dawning-mars for the cameo and help writing this~ it was a lot of fun working with you!! Anyway~ on to the story!!

“That FUCKING asshole!” 

I shout while kicking the empty can of soda down the alleyway, hitting a trash can and accidentally spooking the Racoon that was currently inside of it away..

I just happened to leave the clinic of this gigantic egotistical asshole doctor Erian, my tail all the way along my back and fur all over the place. Shit, getting ahead of myself here.

‘Sup, Names Arynia, but people just call me Nia. I’ve been on Wolf HRT for a while… probably what.. 4 to 5 months now? Well let me just paint a picture. Think about an average height punk girl, with a body mostly covered in a mix of orange and gray fur… Got a nice long undercut for hair, and an otherwise still pretty human face, if you discount the slight elongation that would become my snout one day.  Got me a pretty neat tail though! Doctor was quite surprised when he saw it, usually they don’t get that tall so quickly? I guess I lucked out on that one. Legs are still humanoid though… no signs of paws yet… they do ache a little but i guess i traded the Tail growth for the leg restructuring.. Well none of this matters now cause that fucker just cut me off the meds anyway because i accidentally let slip that “being a normal wolf might not be as fulfilling as i thought… that i wanted something a little… extra.”... Guess that was enough for that idiot asshole bastard to say “If you are not happy with the current progress then continuing from here on out won’t be in your best interest.” And something about coming back when i know what i actually want and if this is the right thing and- URGH!! I should have kept my mouth shut but that's just not my style�� 

Anyway back to the here and now. Feeling kinda bad for the Racoon… well can’t say sorry now that it’s gone. But what the fuck do i do now? Well first things first, checking the messages… Lot’s o’ new people sending in their first dosage posts… pretty neat. Some new faces joined the support group-... ah shit gotta make the news that i probably gotta leave now.. since i don’t really have an ongoing prescription anymore… ACTUALLY- maybe someone has an idea what to do… yeah thats a better outlook, after all that asshole Theodore isn’t the only doc around. 

I ended up sending a lengthy text in the vent section about my situation.. At first people sent some pleasantries but then also some neat ideas on where to go. I did mention my wish for something more… extravagant and low and behold, someone heard of a library in Hypercity that I should check out. Something about a Mysterious worker there that spooked some customers away with her… “monstry aura”? Sounds neat. Just gotta find the place.

Good thing the Maps app on the phone works in Hyper City.. otherwise this place would become a maze… It’s been neat just exploring new areas though, seeing all kinds of people on different stages in their HRT. Cats… Bats… a freaking DRAGON… pretty sure saw some cyborg too but not sure if that’s HRT or just them wearing prosthetics.. either way looked pretty neat. Ever since this stuff hit the market, and more people managed to grab the formula and distribute it, new kinda therians pop out by the day. Good thing I got a spot in that support group when they still had any. Although things do be a bit hectic in the chats.. but that’s alright. Anything major and important is learned in the group sessions anyway.

After another half an hour of walking and listening to the instructions on my phone, I finally made it to the library…  Pretty normal looking place from the outside if you think about the worker here that everyone is making mysteries of is apparently supposed to be some kinda… space monster.. though the descriptions do shift from mention to mention. Anyway I decided it’s enough waiting around… time to go in.

The SECOND I stepped into the lobby, my instincts fired alarm signals. I don’t know how to interpret that but god damn, my fur was standing upright and my ears clenched backwards. What the fuck is going on? Despite my body telling me to run, I go forward… this wolf ain’t no quitter i tell you that! My hand slowly reaches for the bell at the reception, after three deep breaths I finally manage to ring it. The body is making one last attempt to try to make me run away, now that I have given away my position to whatever predator it was so afraid of. But I won't. I gotta know what the hell this place is about now.

As the bell rings, the library quickly goes cold. The lights seem to be weaker, trying to fight against a layer of darkness that wasn’t present before the ring. The air is heavy and the sounds of footsteps can be heard from book stacks. Through the Darkness emit 5 bright eyes, their pinkish purple hues fluctuate and pulse. 

“Hello Deary, Welcome to the Thayer Library. My name is Mars, how can I help you?” 

Her voice vibrates with an unnatural distortion. Emerging into view is a 7 foot tall creature. Her skin is an unsaturated purple that resembles that of a shark's skin. She wears a black 50’s style dress with a ribbon tied at her waist. A large black sun hat covers a portion of her feature lacking face.

Quite the contrast in style compared to my black tank top, skinny jeans with ripped sides and black and white sneakers…

Mars passes me, walking back to the front desk. She looks down and gives me a monstrously happy grin. 

I take a moment to take in this surreal sight… I’ve seen my fair share of therians and otherkin before… Hell, one of my friends is a freakin’ Lamia… but THIS?! This is something entirely different. Feel like I just got transported into a whole different world, even though my actual position did not change…

“Uhm- name’s Arynia.. I was told this place could help me out with a predicament I found myself in. You see i uh-... just got cut off from my HRT for wanting something more… “Special” than a normal wolf and uh-... yeah-... here I am. Is there anyone you can introduce me to? Or how does this work?...” 

I stop myself from just babbling on and wait with baited breath for the answer of Mars. Trying to figure out WHAT kind of otherkin she is…

“Hm, what exactly do you mean by ‘special’?” She asked, looking me over and giving an inquisitive glare. She didn’t have pupils to track, but the way her brows shifted and glared. I felt myself being scrutinized, like I was being dissected. I struggled to find the words, the eye on her forehead looked deeper than the rest. It’s unblinking resolve pierces through me to my very being. I felt afraid, angered, lost. She must’ve noticed how I felt as she reached to the lid of her hat and pulled it down to cover the fifth eye.

I looked at her with an unsure expression… What DID i mean by that? God, his words about being not sure what I even wanted came back to my head… I didn’t want to be just a wolf… although being a Wolf isn’t bad I just needed something more… “... demonic…”

I suddenly said quietly.. my own thoughts bubbling out of my mouth involuntarily.

“Not… like a demon-demon but like… I don't know… a Demon Wolf? Fur that is almost like smoke but also… solid? ... heat that burns in my chest…

That kinda special…”

Mars' expression changes and sits down at her computer. As her attention turned to the screen I felt a weight ease off me. I nervously watched as the being before me tapped away on her computer. As she typed up something she looked up.

“I think I understand” 

Mars says, not looking up from the computer screen.

“There are ways to be… ethereal, cosmic, existing both in the mortal realm and the outer realms. Technically speaking, what you’re asking fits the description of the Abrahamic Hellhound. But I feel that’s not what you're looking for. It’s hard to explain the unexplainable… trust me..”

Mars hits the enter button as she looks back up at me. A kinder smile on her face as she looked for my response. The pressure of her presence once more weighed down on me as I stumbled to respond.

I scratch the back of my head and nod. 

“Y-yeah. Kinda hard to find something that describes the kind of thing I am looking for. A Hellhound sounds not bad, maybe some kinda different version! Maybe something with a bit more… fur hehe.. I guess you would know what it’s like. I don’t want to sound mean but I have never seen anything like you either.”

“Well my transition is a bit… different than the rest.. it’s hard to explain and it’s harder to understand. Frankly I’m still trying to figure out what I am and what’s going on…”

I notice her grab something from behind their desk. She looks down as I hear her scribble something out before standing up once more.

“I think I have something of interest to you, within the archives we have a selection of old reproductions from the Library of Alexandria. It was there where I found a way to become what I am. I believe I know something in the vault that might help you”.

She walked past me, her back appendages stretching outward and then falling back to a rest state. Her tail sways as she walks past the stacks and to a glass door saying ‘Employees Only’.

“Stay here and I’ll have the item brought down for you, feel free to look around while I’m gone.”

It was then that I first noticed how freaking exhausted I was from all the tension that was constantly in my body. I slumped against the desk and felt like I could breathe normally for the first time in my life, even when I didn't notice me breathing abnormally before. This entire situation is beginning to make me feel… somewhat… no… not somewhat.. REALLY excited! When I first started my transition into a Wolf, I felt a slight excitement with it.. not nearly as strong as it is now.  I was sure, this is it! I am at the right place, whatever comes next is what I really wanted!! 

I didn’t start looking around, my feet were almost stuck to the ground, my body still somewhat on edge. My fur definitely needed a brush now with how much it keeps shifting from the adrenaline that keeps shooting through my body in waves. I can’t wait to see what Mars is going to bring back from that employee section… figures that the good stuff is being held back from the general public but hey, who am i to complain. It’s not like the things are not being used for others outside of the employees, guess there is a genuine reason.. if it is able to “produce” beings like Mars, maybe that’s for the better to keep it somewhat detained.

There’s a ding from behind the door and the sound of something rolling. As the employee door unlocks Mars steps out, pushing along a small cart. The second she’s within eyesight I feel her presence once more as I find myself frozen with anxiety. 

“Here we are, the Alexandria Chronicles.”

She says with a pleased chirp. She sets the book between two angled pieces of foam. She gently flips through the pages, being extra careful with her sharpened talons. She settles on a page with incantation circles and text written in some ancient language. She moves her head and runs her claw along the text before turning back to me.

“Arynia, what I have here is a book that contains the remnants of the Library to Alexandria. Within these pages contain the history of the old gods, the ones who continue to influence us in secret. If you want to be like me, you will be made aware of these old ones. You will endure immeasurable pain and psychosis. I say this not to scare you, but to warn you.. to prepare you..”

Mars ushers me forward with her hand. I feel myself walk towards her, but not on my own volition. I approach the book, seeing the inscriptions up close and find the page overwhelming with information. 

“Do you have any questions?”

I take a long look at the writing. Nothing I could ever understand… but still i feel the weight of Mars’s words on my entire body. “I was ready for the pain of the HRT. I saw how much it weighed down on people I care about so that point I am sure is not going to hold me back. As for these old ones…” I took a determined look at Mars, as much as I felt afraid when simply in her presence… There was also the resolve to continue.

“I guess my only question would be when we can start. I can worry about the rest later. Right now my heart tells me that this is the right thing for me.”

Mars smiles and gestures back to the book, her clawed finger gently pointing at a scribble written in the margins. The blurb appears to be an old attempt at translating the chant. The combination of consonants and vowels made it difficult to read. 

“If you need assistance, never be shy to reach out. With that said, let’s begin”.

I nod, but then raise an eyebrow. “So-  I just read out the stuff written on the page?”

“We’ll need to set up a ritual circle, but try reciting this till you feel confident. I’ll get the circle set up.”

Mars steps back and walks to the front door. I hear the latching of the front doors and her footsteps walking to the front desk. I turn my attention back to the few lines of translated text. I reread the text a few times working on the exotic letter combinations. Once confident I try saying it out loud in a hush tone. Tripping over a few words but finding it not as difficult as I initially thought. 

Would have never thought I would end up in a library, practicing ancient texts in order to get some medicine that turns me into a hellhound! Not to mention this being connected to eldritch gods? Wonder if i should give this maybe some more thought… but then again.. it’s this or going to that asshole Erian and beg him to put me back on the hrt… yeah no this is definitely the better option. 

I ended up practicing for, what felt like an hour, managing to no longer stumble over the words. I pick up the book, still mumbling the text while walking to where Mars is probably either still setting up, or is waiting for me. 

I reached a clearing and found a large summoning circle matching the one from the book. Another circle filled the center as well as a ring of the ancient language. She smiled at me as she stood and handed me a candle. 

“Set this where you like and light it. Once that’s done we’ll be ready”.

I nodded and turned away as I was handed a candle and a match. My mind raced with thoughts and feelings. I couldn’t stop contemplating if this was the right choice. If this would truly make me a hellhound. I felt drawn to a certain part of the circle and placed the candle. As I lit it I felt the air shift, my breath could be seen and as I turned back Mars sat just outside the circle with the book. She ushered me forward and like earlier I felt myself moving at her command. I kneeled next to her and looked at the book, sweat racing down my cheek as Mars placed a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s ok hun, I’ll be here to help you”.

I felt comforted by that and gave a gentle smile. I turned down to the book, nervously grabbing the edges and looking back at the translation. I grew worried that I would mess this up, that I flub the pronunciation. I felt like I was drowning and gasped for the biggest breath I’ve ever taken. And then, I began reading.

“Ph’nglui Mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh.. Wgah’nagl fhta-“

I felt a pit in my stomach, the last syllable seemed impossible to say, the ease and confidence was gone. Now I fought against some external force to finish the words.

“FHTAGN!!!!”

Then there was a flash, my eyes began to tear up as I felt a rush of surging energy. The circle illuminated, the ground shook, I felt my face being pulled in all directions. I wanted to shut my eyes but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but witness waves of images and voices. My vision began to split, I could see more than just the library. I could see pillars, a cracking moon, a hall draped with yellow banners. These images flooded my mind and soul and then nothing. I was floating in a vast void, I felt a moment of ease before the realm began splitting, an eye larger than anything I’ve ever witnessed glared at me… through me? I tried avoiding its gaze, but I wasn't able to… I tried to speak up but my instincts clenched my mouth shut. 

I felt another rush as I was pulled away and then, finally, I blinked. My eyes celebrated the release of the tension as they began to refocus. I felt control regain in my mind and arms as I reached up and wiped the tears. I took a moment to recover, my mind still reeling from what I witnessed.

“Harsh, isn’t it?”

I turned to see Mars who looked relieved. She smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. 

“You seemed to handle that very well. It’s something to have every sense we have to be overwhelmed. It’s crippling, and when we have that control it feels so foreign..”

Mars reached for the now closed book and took it in her arms. She cradled it like a child and stood up and offered me a hand. I wasn’t sure I could stand yet, my legs felt like they were still trembling. I could tell Mars read my expression as she pulled her hand away. 

“Sorry, why don’t you relax a bit while I get this all cleaned up.”

I nod to the best of my ability. Still trying to come to terms with what just happened. My eyes went from Mars towards the ground as my mind tried to make sure that I was back on earth… and not in whatever place I was before… It is at this very moment I start to realize what I just signed myself up for. And the fact settles in that this is not going to be the last time my very foundation of reality is going to be shaken. I look up at Mars one more time.

“Di-” I cough.. damn spit must have gotten in my throat at some point…

“Did it work?”

Mars turns her attention to the center of the circle and sees a small orange bottle. And smiles and turns back to me and nods.

“It did, welcome to family”

I looked back to the center of the circle when Mars did, turning back shortly after with a smile. 

“Thanks~ I guess I’ll be visiting this place more often now~” 

I slowly stand up, my legs still shaking from the ordeal and pick up that small orange pill bottle. It has my name on it… hades-lupusitine… bit on the nose name but hey, ain’t gonna complain as long as it does the job. The name of the prescribing doc was left blank though… then again that makes sense… don’t think you can fit whatever that eyeball's name was on the small tag of a pill bottle… IF that was the one that heard my call from the ritual… 1-0-1… so guess two of them a day… mornings and evenings huh?

I turn back to Mars with a smile as big as I can manage, and a wagging tail swishing behind me.. 

“Thank you so goddamn much for all of this Mars!” She smiled back at me. No more words needed to be spoken… not that I was really able to speak much after that mental strain anyway.. She kindly walked me out of the Library after putting the book back where it was safe. We waved each other goodbye, promising to stay in touch. I took my walk home, caressing the small pill bottle in my Jeans pocket and just itching to take the first pill in the evening. I just hope the next cosmic horrors at least knock first…  

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

Definitely check out Mars's Eldritch HRT series!!

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, Skizzleman, 7/03/24

((Got my internet back this morning, phew! I did post a poll last night for anyone who has input on which Hermits I ought to be concentrating on recapping. Go and vote in it if you have Thoughts, or send me an ask if your thoughts are more lengthy. In the meantime, enjoy Skizzleman starting up his Attorney's Office build, hanging out with Tango, being a guinea pig for Pearl, and discussing with Chat why the fans keep making him an angel.))

4:45 Skizz opens the stream with a black screen. He greets the Chat and gives everyone an unnerving stare for several seconds. One day, he promises, he will really commit to the bit and see how long he can hold that stare just to bother chat. He thanks subs and donos and opens the game. He is standing on the highest current level of his pyramid. Skizz has taken it very easy the past two days and is feeling lazy about it. There is lots to talk about today!

9:30 Skizz flies to his base while talking about dog problems. Kevin Bubbles has been very naughty lately. Skizz is not concerned about the possibility of Doc taking revenge against him for the court case. Skizz feels lazy because all his current projects are actually doing okay right now and the holiday long weekend is coming up, so he could’ve been on the server but wasn’t. He is not going to let himself feel guilty about that, though. Instead, there is a build plan for today! Skizz flies to the shopping district and lands on Poe Poe HQ, facing the empty corner between it and the Courthouse. He is going to build an attorney’s office! He put a lot of time and effort into building the “Skizz Attorney” character he made for the Cleo v. Doc court case, put a lot of TLC into the video, got a lot of good feedback, and now he does not want it to be a one-and-done anymore. (Highlights include Skizz telling his wife that he had to spend an evening prepping his case because he was going to court the next day.)

13:00 Skizz has talked to Bdubs and Scar about adding an attorney’s office to the area where they have been building and they were enthusiastic about the idea. Skizz is nervous because he’ll be building right next to large builds by two exceptional builders. He’s going to give it a try anyway, knowing all along that there is the possibility that at some point he will tear the whole thing down, put the grass back, and just give up. It’s a possibility, but it’s better to try than not to try!

15:40 A chatter asks Skizz what his feelings are on the “Angel” portrayal of Skizz in fanart. Skizz wants to make it clear that he is very honored by all fanart, but he’s not sure where the angel thing came from. He is super-distracted by a 100-sub bomb. Chat is very excited too. He thanks subs and donos. A chatter asks about how to get their stream restarted. He tells them to ask themselves why they want to stream, and if any part of that is “I love it,” then that’s enough. Ignore everything else and do it because you love it. He especially thanks the chatter who gave many subs.

20:00 Chat reminds Skizz that he was talking about fanart. He reiterates that he loves fanart, and the angel thing is sweet, but he does not deserve to be portrayed as an angel. They don’t upset him but he likes the art better without them. He thanks more subs and donos. A chatter asks why Impulse “cheated” with Jimmy to play Among Us. Skizz pretends to be upset but he is not, he and Impulse will play Among Us again. Skizz needs shulker boxes. He goes to his portal tunnel to empty a shulker of cobblestone, but it turns out that “throwing item” is enough to trigger the skulk sensor that activates the “Sup, buddeh,” noise, which plays about 15 times. Skizz is confused at first, then starts doing it for fun. The same chatter from before gifts another 100 subs.

26:00 A chatter tells Skizz that fanartists draw Impulse as a demon as a reference to how he first joined Hermitcraft. ((In Impulse’s first episode of Season 3, he is “summoned” onto Hermitcraft by Tango, Mumbo and Xisuma for redstone shenanigans, summoning circle, chanting and all.)) Because Impulse and Skizz have a very “yin-yang” dynamic, fanartists draw Skizz as the angel of the pair. Skizz remembers seeing that somewhere before, and admits that he feels a lot better about that explanation than thinking that the fandom has ascribed something particularly angelic or ultra-good to him. He continues assembling tools and materials and is about to tell Chat his plan when he gets distracted by Chat again. A chatter called “Evilbutnice” gets assigned the nickname “EvilButt” because Skizz likes to say that. He may start using that as a nickname for his wife. Chat thinks Skizz just likes to say “butt.” He agrees and tells the story of the time his band teacher said “butt” and it was really funny.

28:00 Skizz visits the Bop & Go to repair his elytra. He needs to go dig a whole bunch of sand so he can buy acacia wood from Doc. Chat and Impulse (who is lurking in the stream) notice that Skizz did not touch the noteblock to reset Bop & Go. Impulse notes that this is obviously why the machine has not been getting reset lately. Skizz fixes that mistake. He notices a comment from one of his mods saying that Skizz never remembers and rarely reads and insists that he _just did_ remember (with some help.) Every other time he has remembered and Impulse just didn’t happen to be watching. He asks if Chat wants him to pull back the curtain on something, then decides he won’t after all.

30:20 Skizz takes off for the sand-gathering desert, thanking subs and donos on the way. A chatter tells him that the fanartists also like the creative irony of making the guy who toes the line of PG more than anybody else into the angel. Skizz likes that a lot. He arrives at the desert and finds it empty of sand, but does find some coal. He finds a little bit of sand and begins the laborious process of digging it out with an unenchanted iron shovel. He thinks he should probably just sue Doc instead. He decides to get out the diamond shovel even though it doesn’t have mending, just to spare himself and everyone else the agony. Chat informs him that Tango is looking for him.

33:00 Skizz quibbles with Chat over who is the assistant sleepmaster and who is assistant TO THE sleepmaster. He sends Tango his coords and makes plans to play Wordle later now that Pearl has made the redstone even better ((Dyeduction can now handle double-letter words!)) He will not play on stream again, cause that was BRUTAL last time. He digs some more sand and gets distracted by the existence of terracotta. Chat reminds him that Scar sells sand, and that Tango is on his way. Skizz tells the music to be cooler. A chatter suggests that Skizz set his spawn, just in case. He does so.

37:40 A wild Tango appears on the horizon! Skizz shoots at him, of course. Tango dodges and weaves, eventually coming into mic range and making it clear that he has not yet seen Skizz and is trying to get directions from his chat. Skizz pings him with the bow. Tango flies up to meet Skizz and asks what Skizz needs and if he just called Tango out here to grab a shovel and get to work. Skizz protests that his chat told him that Tango was looking for him! Tango admits that he needed to kill some time after doing lots of boring redstone on stream that day. Skizz sighs and makes his own greatest technical achievement: a skompass. Tango is happy that he finished his project, and when he goes back to his factory he will be able to see if the new chunkloaders actually work or if the whole thing has pooped itself again.

40:30 Tango asks Skizz what he’s up to out here. Skizz reveals his extremely self-destructive idea to freehand a new building live on stream between a building built by Bdubs and a building built by Scar. “Yeah, sure, what could go wrong?” Tango jokes. He points out that there’s no way Skizz is going to be happy with it. Skizz tells him he’s the worst cheerleader ever. Tango says he’d rather do redstone on stream than build on stream because with redstone it’s either right or it’s wrong, but with building it’s easy to spiral into doubt. Skizz describes himself ask the kid who throws himself into the deep end to see if he can swim. He’d rather know on the other side that he made a bad choice than not trying to make a choice at all. Tango asks if it’s time to go get beer and burgers yet. Skizz tells him not yet, he’s going to pick up Impulse later and they will meet up with Tango. They are both excited (and hungry!)

42:30 Skizz double-checks with Tango about Scar selling both sand and gravel. Tango agrees, but says he doesn’t know if Scar has any stock. Skizz takes off unceremoniously and only belatedly groups up with Tango to talk. Skizz tries to shoot Tango a few more times as they fly back to the factory. He hits once but doesn’t kill him. Tango calls him Failguy and tells him his Velocitay needs work. It’s probably just as well though, since Tango is already bummed about his new redstone not working. Tango explains the trouble he’s been having trying to turn off the factory when he leaves the chunk, and how his chunk loaders are not turning things off like they should. Skizz asks how the system can possibly know when Tango leaves. Tango takes Skizz into the basement and introduces him to Unpaid Intern, an endermite on a floor made of observers whose movement serves as a player detector. When the intern stops moving (because there is no player nearby) the system reacts. Skizz compares it to an accelerometer sensor, Tango agrees except it’s not working. Tango’s chat has ideas for him. Skizz follows Tango down into his truly inexplicable redstone workings and takes care of some coal ore he finds there while Tango is troubleshooting.

47:50 There is actually quite a bit of coal ore around, but Skizz is just the guy for the job! As he mines, he asks Tango if he wants to play Wordle live on stream. “No!” Tango says immediately. Skizz assures him that it is the worst. Skizz has to go because he’s busy and Tango needs to debug anyway. He sneaaaaaks around the corner with his bow, but Tango flies away before he can shoot and mocks him over the groupchat. Skizz insists he wasn’t actually going to do it, but that does not stop the mocking. Chat is ready to hunt Tango for sport, but in a nice and friendly way. Skizz gets slightly lost before finding his way out of Tango’s basement and heading for the sand shop. He thanks subs and donos as he goes. He admires Scar’s build, but there are no more shulkers of sand and only a few stacks of sand. Skizz attempts to turn diamonds into acacia with math, but it is too difficult and he won’t read chat. He’s just going to dig sand… except he’s running out of rockets. He’s going to coast home, then he’s going to go dig sand.

52:30 Skizz fetches his rockets and organizes his inventory, putting things away like a grownup and fetching his better shovel. He goes to put away the sand he has already collected and realizes he already has a shulker box with nineteen stacks of sand. He sighs and calls himself a brilliant, brilliant man. Chat is amused. Skizz is just going to pretend he didn’t even see anything and leave. He’s going to buy some acacia and get working. He’s played around just a little bit in Creative with some ideas and he also collects up some blackstone before heading back to the SD. As he flies, he plays the Bop Song for Chat. He flies to the wood shop and realize that Doc has raised prices on wood and it is now four stacks per stack. He also can’t figure out where to pay, a consistent problem this season for Doc. Chat helps him out. He buys four stacks of acacia wood.

58:30 The Bop Song ends and Skizz tells Chat that Iskall told him the other day that he’d listened to the Skizzlefarts song. He’d initially given up five seconds in, then went back later and realized it was a bop. Skizz will play the song for Chat later. He checks profits in his own shop, some sales, and goes to buy some mud. Stress’s shop is still a pop-up and living on borrowed time, but it does have mud in it. He buys three stacks, then realizes he has to run home for grass before he can build. Chat thinks they understand why Skizz runs out of rockets so often. He gets the grass and plays the Skizzlefarts song as he flies back.

1:02:00 While the song is playing, Skizz sets up a home base outside the courthouse and begins filling in grass to create an even build surface. Chat likes this song a lot. Mr Joker comes into Chat but Skizz is in the zone and doesn’t see. Chat is sympathetic and tells him that the best way to keep a secret from Skizz is to put it in his chat. Skizz does eventually notice him and says hello. In game chat, Pearl asks Skizz if he would like to be her guinea pig. Skizz doesn’t see the message. Chat starts yelling at him about it. Impulse is also in chat and helps. Skizz is busy singing the Skizzlefarts song acapella.

1:07:00 Impulse, being the good friend and hero to Chats everywhere that he is, logs into the game and accepts Pearl’s invitation graciously on Skizz’s behalf. Pearl is happy. Impulse logs out. Skizz is still not paying attention. Pearl thanks Impulse for trying, at least. Chat is howling with laughter and rage. Gem says that Skizz can’t read, he’s a hermit. It’s part of the invite process. Skizz finally notices something and opens game chat, asking how much he is supposed to be expected to read! Chat thinks Gem is very funny. Skizz figures out what is happening, agrees on his own behalf this time, and pauses the recording, telling Chat that this is why he can’t get anything done. Chat doesn’t care, they are happy to go see Pearl. Knowing what guinea pig duty usually entails on Hermitcraft, Skizz empties his inventory except for rockets and food and goes to find Pearl at the flower shop.

1:09:20 Skizz arrives at the flower shop and is greeted by Pearl. She thanks him for being a guinea pig today. Pearl proudly explains that she has improved the Wordle redstone to do double letters successfully. Skizz wails, both because that was his favorite part of Dyeduction and because he’s realizing that he’s about to play Wordle on stream again. She explains the new intricacies of the system (a correct guess in the right place will not lock the letter anymore, just light up the lamp so full words can still be played.) Pearl promises him that it’s an easy word today and asks if he wants to try Hard Mode (which is timed). Skizz agrees reluctantly. Chat has been wondering if Pearl just woke up or simply has not slept yet; she has changed things down here since the end of her stream so the consensus is “has not slept.” Skizz empties his inventory and collects all his letters, impressed by the colorful new textures for the letter tiles. Pearl gives him the clue that it’s a double letter word.

1:12:50 Skizz starts the game and plays “HORSE.” Pearl sings the Bop song with him as he puts the word into place. He gets no letters in the correct spot, but R and O are in the word. He decides to get really bold and play “TROTT,” disregarding the trouble sign that Pearl doesn’t know if that’s how you spell Trot. Chat has qualms about this choice. He plays it anyway and gets the R and O in the correct spot, but there are no Ts. He thinks about Crown, but there are no Ws. He thinks about Brown, but there are still no Ws. He decides to play CROAK just to get clues. He gets no letters in position, but there is an A in the word. He is now past half-time on the clock.

1:20:00 Hard Mode Dyeduction currently has no sound, so Pearl provides some happily trollsome noises as Skizz tries very hard to think of what double-letter word fits his current clues. He makes a lot of noises of his own, then guesses AROMA and slams the letters into place as fast as possible. He is correct! Everyone cheers! Pearl thinks that was a great word for a flower shop. Skizz gets his reward bundle and because he did hard mode, he gets the flower crown reward! Pearl has to show him how to use the bundle because he was not around for TCG last season. He puts on the crown and stands next to Pearl, looking very hippyish. He loves Pearl’s redstone. Pearl offers to show it to him, but first the game must be reset. He puts the letters away and resets, but has forgotten the castoff barrel letters. He suggests to Pearl that she should put up a sign to remind people, she reminds him that Hermits don’t read things. He has to agree.

1:24:00 Pearl gives Skizz the grand tour of her “noodles,” the intricate and Pearl-optimized system of redstone that powers the game. It is much bigger than last time Skizz visited the game. He has no idea what is happening or how. She shows him a test system that she built with Xisuma while working on the double letter system. Skizz may or may not understand the redstone system, but he can definitely take care of the coal lurking in Pearl’s walls. She tells him to be careful of the water behind the walls and he yelps and jumps back, but she’s not too worried since this was only a test system. Skizz still does not want to take chance. If he broke this redstone, he would probably disconnect and not come back for a month.

1:28:00 Skizz compliments Pearl again on her awesome redstone. Pearl is justifiably proud of herself, saying she didn’t really think this would be her redstone season, but it turns out it really is. Skizz decides he’s going to do something for Pearl. Pearl hopes he is going to give her some redstone. Nope, he is going to hit her up (off-stream, of course) for a new project. She asks if it’s a redstone project and he tells her of course it is. “Oh no!” Pearl replies, but she is interested. Skizz tells her it has to be perfect but then gets distracted because he has somehow gotten himself incredibly stuck inside a composter. There is a block over his head and he cannot get out, and he can’t break the block because there is redstone on it. Chat pauses in their laughing just long enough to suggest an ender pearl might be the only way out of this one. Pearl finds an “Ender-me” and gives it to him, letting him escape his ridiculous predicament. Pearl reminisces about back in the day when the first version of Wordle was basically impossible to break. This version is very breakable, in a number of ways. Tango raids into the stream, though he doesn’t appear to realize he’s done so successfully based on his chat messages.

1:31:00 Pearl thanks Skizz for his guinea pig services as Skizz recovers his inventory and eats. He assures her that he is always ready to be a guinea pig for her redstone improvements and heads out. He flies back to the law office and welcomes the raiders, then thanks subs and donos. Tango’s chat says Tango needs to do his hair to get ready for the man-date.

1:34:30 Skizz restarts recording and gets back to work! He is using path blocks to sketch out the design of the building. He starts putting down acacia blocks, then yells “Assistant Sleepmaster!” and dives into bed even as Chat responds with a score of “TO THE.” With the sun back up, he takes the acacia back down and changes the shape slightly. Chat is concerned about blocking the bridge, but Skizz wants to leave enough room for Joe to have an office too, if he wants one. He moves his design over slightly. In stream chat, Gem confirms that the bridge has plenty of room.

1:43:00 Skizz does a little terraforming to get his design the way he wants it. Chat reminds him to eat. Tango announces in game chat that he fixed his iron issue, Gem and Skizz are proud of him. Skizz starts placing acacia again. He explains his patterning idea to Chat, a checkerboard of acacia logs that will get largely moved or covered as the build progresses. He is going to need more acacia. Skizz is a scaffolding guy, so he sets some of that up as well as he works. Chat says that Joe may not need half the space since he talked on stream about possibly building a law office into his Tuff shop. Skizz acknowledges that is a possibility, but told Joe he would leave the space open until he decided where he wanted his office. Skizz does not need such a large space to build on anyway. Law offices should not be the size of courthouses!

1:53:00 Skizz shows off the first wall, which seems promising. He reminds Chat that this could all wind up being torn down, but he still is happy that he’s trying. Chat gives him suggestions on how to optimize acacia use, since he is using lots and lots of expensive logs with this design. He sings a borderline inappropriate song but stops before the bad parts, then goes and sleeps again. Chat helps him correct an alignment in one of the pillars, and wall-building continues. Chat is restive about a design defect in the second wall, Skizz eventually notices that as well, but he doesn’t have the right acacia wood to correct it.

2:03:00 Doc loves to make Skizz miserable, so it’s back to Big Wood to trade more sand for acacia. He spends the rest of his shulker of sand for three more stacks of acacia, but he’s not going to be gracious about it! Chat shakes their head over out-of-control inflation. Skizz returns, realizes that he can’t actually correct the pattern in such a way that both walls are correct. He makes the front wall correct at the expense of the tiny side wall in the hope that nobody but Chat will notice. Chat reminds him to start recording. He builds some more, sleeps again, and admits he does the assistant sleepmaster bit because he hates the darkness in Minecraft. He puts more top pillars on and wishes he had Swift Sneak, but he does not because he was MURDERED. He puts some mud brick on the ground around the building to show Chat his idea for how the ground will look. Chat likes it, and also likes the noise mud bricks makes.

2:13:00 Skizz runs into one more pattern issue on the back wall but takes Chat’s suggestion on how to get around it sneakily with a pillar. He tells a cute story about the time his daughter met her great-grandmother for the first time and immediately said “I like your face!” Chat suggests the possibility that just going and chopping acacia wood might be easier than digging dozens of stacks of sand. He misplaces a log and yells about it, then cheerfully informs new chatters that he is Skizz and he likes to freak out about NOTHING. He looks at the building and realizes that the office is too small inside. He has to knock out the back wall and build it out bigger. He sleeps again, then takes the opportunity to rip out the side as well to correct some subtle pattern troubles.

2:21:00 A chatter asks who built Skizz’s (as yet unboxed) new PC. Skizz admits it was awhile ago now and he doesn’t remember for sure, but he thinks the company was called Apex. He has more pattern trouble and blames Chat for letting him do that. It turns out that ripping out the wall did not solve the pattern problem but it also does not make it any worse. Skizz needs more wood. He heads for the desert.

2:27:00 Skizz arrives back at the desert and realizes he forgot his bed. He gets digging. It is much faster with his better shovel this time. He insists that Chat had better remind him to start recording when he gets back. He talks with Chat about the movie The Fifth Element. He finds a pillager raid and spends some sand to bury them. He forgot to bring his bow, but the sand works well enough. He talks with Chat about filming the 100th episode of the podcast. It’s going to be all about reflecting on what they’ve learned so far, and Skizz may or may not have indulged in some adult beverage during the filming. There will also be official Imp and Skizz merch coming out! Chat is excited.

2:36:00 Skizz admits that it might be faster to just chop wood at this point, but he’s already dug up all this sand! He and Impulse are both very proud of putting out 100 podcast episodes without ever missing a week. He muses that Doc is winning by making Skizz dig all this sand, and it is a situation that may require Poe Poe intervention. He finds a ruined portal and is pleased to learn that they come with a gold block, though this one’s chest has been looted. He digs quite a bit, just to make sure the chest is not hiding in secret. Chatters send him some nice messages. He talks about the nature of friendship, and how knowing that even the best friendships are subject to disagreements and distance can help you not to take people for granted. He is willing to consider the possibility that, after being friends over these 100 episodes, he and Impulse may end up being friends forever. Also, if someone wants to sue Doc again, Skizz is totally ready for it. He is also willing to be Doc’s lawyer!

2:44:00 Skizz talks about Mumbo’s pinky-training short and how funny it is. He is nearly done with his sand-digging now, but his shovel is also getting quite low. He talks with Chat about My Cousin Vinny and how great it is, and also that he has seen Rusty_Courage’s latest animatic and it is great. He packs up his shulkers and heads back for the shopping district. A chatter asks what his favorite Mel Brooks film is, it is Spaceballs.

2:48:30 Skizz repairs his shovel at the Bop N Go, but does not stay for the song. He forgets to hit the noteblock. Chat reminds him and he tells them that was a test for Chat. He gets more rockets (it has been a very rocket-heavy day) and heads back to Big Wood. A chatter asks if it’s really 111 degrees in Arizona, Skizz does not know because he hasn’t been outside in hours. A chatter’s young child asks if there will be more animated shorts, Skizz has none in the works but he wants to do more. He does Sand Math and buys twelve stacks of acacia, then heads back to the office.

2:54:10 Skizz turns the recording back on and keeps building his walls. Chat reminds him not to be late for his man-date with Tango and Impulse. While he works, he practices his elytra-bouncing technique and plays with the voice-changer. He particularly hates a song on the background track and frantically removes it. Chat declares Skizz is in a mood, he proudly declars himself “a mood.” He talks about the movie Speed and how it briefly made Young Skizz want to be a cop so he could do things like jump into buses from moving cars.

3:01:00 Skizz works on the top pattern row and goes to make his pillars. Chatters are commenting, rightly or wrongly, about pattern problems, but Skizz is in a hurry and has given up on caring about the pattern so much. He likes the sound of stripping acacia. He finishes and gets a long look with freecam, declaring that he actually does not hate it! He adds some more mud bricks to the floor for a better look at that and tells Chat he will terradorm later. Chat approves the building and says the hermits will make a builder of him yet.

3:07:50 Skizz finishes and stops recording, then corrects a few more stripping issues. He likes the whole thing in general and will be interested to see how the roof looks when it goes on. There’s a lot more to do, but he’s got to go out with some guys Chat may know, Eyem-puls-ave and Tingoo. He says he may stream tomorrow, then raids into Jojosolos and ends his stream.

[uninformedartist]

did't your friend chai Use shays death to bash viv Even though shays doc said not too And didn't your friend chai Even make a OOF joke about shays death. If you're gonna talk about disgusting behavior start with your friends first darling

Firstly Chai is not my friend, same circle & thats the critical community but not friends, I don't mean this harshly its just a fact sure Chai or anyone else would agree. Interaction or just being in the same circles doesn't automatically equate friendship to me at least. Anyway also all I've seen of Chai is this what I post below anon which to me is very sincere & heartfelt actually on Shay's death & other messages of condolences. Where is this oof joke anon, if you're going to talk please bring evidence I would like to know.

Again not friends & don't call me darling you're creepy doing so.

Also if you're Official_TVC, sup its been a displeasure answering this.

[marlsboro-mckn]

sup bitches, the name’s marlene mckinnon 😎

i’m 17, a gryffindor, a beater, a raging lesbian and a proud annoyance to all.

she/her pronouns please. unless you’re sirius, in which case use whatever the fuck you want.

things I like: electric guitars, quidditch, my girlfriend (love you forever dorcas <333), transfiguration, the colour red, blondie, the runaways, the muggle punk movement, james potter’s wand (i’m jealous of the spiderwebs), dumb party games, doc martens, your mum

if you don’t like me you can fuck right off. if I don’t like you, you’ll know

———

———

some people I know here

maryyy the bestie ever <3: @mary-queen-of-hearts

lily the bestie ever part 2: @a-field-of-lilies

dorcassss!!: @dor-meadowes

dora (i would do anything for you i’m being so fr): @panda-reads-your-death

someone’s lost dog or something: @who-let-the-dog-out

me if i was a man and also less cool: @seeking-sun-stags

rat boy (the only good marauder): @super-silly-petey

baby black: @a-drowned-poet

an actual demon i think: @all-bart-and-bite

pandora’s brother: @guns-n-rosier

one of pandora’s friends?? idk but they seem nice: @xenophilocalistt

snape 😐: @the-halfblood-prince-of-hogwarts

———

marlene mckinnon rp blog run by @ghostly-schematics (my main)/@odillisea (my marauders sideblog) as a part of @marauders-and-co!!

everything on here will be from marlene’s pov completely seperately to me. just here to have some fun, don’t take anything on here too seriously!

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS24 Fic: "For All Life and For All Time" (A CS Dracula AU in 3 Parts)

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is posted late, on a day that was luckily unclaimed. I struggled with doing justice to the work that probably began my love of all things Victorian Gothic, and re-reading it again for plotting and inspiration certainly didn't make the prospect any less daunting. While I love the original Bram Stoker novel's epistolary format, it was not something I wanted to carry on for an entire fic. Nor is this fully true to the original's narrative. I do hope that those who have read the novel and enjoyed it may find nods to the original to make them smile. I didn't want to make Killian the Dracula character - he is neither at all attractive nor redeemable in the original work - so he became my Van Helsing. Emma is the kick-butt awesome Mina Harker, quite a standout female character for that time, but I did away with the Jonathan Harker character altogether.

This starts in the middle of the action, then has a fair bit of reflection to bring readers up to speed. The next installment should have more action and pick up where this one leaves off.

A MILLION thank yous to @myfearless-love for all the editing work she did - my writing is quite a mess when I first translate it from my handwritten pages to a doc! She made it so much better, and I am incredibly grateful!!

A Victorian, Dracula-inspired AU in Three Parts

Please Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Summary: Having lost her dearest friend and with her own life on the line, Emma Swan joins a noble band to face an ancient evil. Three of them stand by her in honor of the one they loved and lost. The other might be the first man she could love. He might love her as well - even more than life itself. Time will tell... if they both survive the fight against their immortal enemy.

**Also available on AO3, if you prefer

Part One

by: @snowbellewells

Emma craned her neck to peer out the small window of the carriage into the impenetrable darkness encroaching on all sides as the conveyance careened around sharp curves and stark cliff faces, making her stomach pitch and her heart leap into her throat. More than once, her mouth opened to call the driver, beg him to slow down, but each time a sudden jolt or swerve had her clenching her teeth and swallowing the words as she gripped the seat tightly. Pitching wildly from one side of the bench to the other, Emma was nearly toppled to the floor repeatedly as they sped on.

The torches beside the carriage doors flickered wildly behind the glass sconces but barely made pinpricks of light in the surrounding night; deep blackness which had swallowed them since leaving the small gypsy outpost where they had supped just an hour past. Emma realized belatedly that she was only becoming more overwrought by attempting to stare blindly into the void while they hurtled forward, and instead forced herself to lean her head against the seat back and close her eyes, resolutely taking deep, calming breaths.

Scant moments passed in such a manner before Emma felt her racing heartbeat slow. It was a different sort of thrill which then ran along her spine - distinct from the chill which had settled on her skin with the horrifying loss of Aurora’s sweet friendship and from the eerie foreboding which had accompanied her since setting out in this last effort to ensnare the perpetrator of her younger friend’s downfall. This determined trek higher and higher into the isolated Carpathian heights seemed to weigh on her more with every mile they gained.

Yet, despite the tightening pit in her stomach and the anxious flutter of her pulse, Emma would not fail to accomplish her part in Killian’s plan. The Professor had turned Emma Swan’s already teetering world upon its axis. He was beyond description - no words could capture what his mere presence, his voice, a glance in her direction could do to her - a power no man had ever held before, because she would not allow it. And yet every hair on her body stood on end when he was near; her awareness utterly captured by the mysterious scholar. He had introduced himself merely as Killian Jones when they met at Aurora’s sick bed, but as they had nursed her together, even when their every desperate attempt proved futile, it had become clear his vast intellect, his determination and resolve, placed him well beyond the scope of any man she had met before - or likely would again.

By the time he had spoken the truth of the fiend who had siphoned Aurora’s life before their eyes, she could not doubt him, even in the face of the utterly impossible - a vampire.

This ancient evil, Count Dracula, had ruled his isolated corner of the world for ages, but in coming to England and extending his reach, he was a threat to all mankind. Aurora had been only a prelude to what he intended. A monster of myth and legend had destroyed her innocent friend, and without pausing for rest, he had stalked and marked Emma as his next victim, only she had the advantage of awareness and warning enough to resist.

Though the threat was deadly, and knowing what she faced - stakes and dark graveyards and the betrayal of her very humanity from what she gathered of Aurora’s end that no one would speak of in full - Emma did not wish to be shielded and to wait hidden in safety while others risked their lives for her sake. She would have her hand in it, even if that meant to some extent playing the helpless damsel as bait in the trap.

To Killian, it was personal as well. He had still been a medical student long ago, traveling to study folk remedies in Romania when he met a darkly beautiful Countess, lonely and sad, all too eager to join him on his travels. She had set his world aflame - first in joy, and then in ruin, for she had not been as free as he had believed. He had fallen for her, and then seen her drained of life by her husband - the creature of night who had proven nightmares lived and walked the earth. Killian had only survived that first encounter because the Count wished him to suffer. For years, Killian had studied and prepared. He had made himself into an expert much different than he had once aimed, and he had intended for his suffering to end only when his life, or the Count’s, did as well.

There was a fine line to walk, however, between justice and bitter revenge. When he had seen the desire for reprisal in Emma after Aurora’s death, when she learned of the indignity to which the young beauty had been subjected and the lengths to which the men who cared for her had gone to assure her peaceful rest, she had sworn she would see this Count Dracula pay for his cruelty somehow. That was when Killian had told her all. “Do not fall into that trap, Swan,” he had spoken softly, though the import of his words was unmistakable. “That way lies ruin - only wasted years and endless torment.”

His blue eyes bored into her very soul as he strove to make her see. “When I lost my love, my Milah, I sore revenge upon her foul husband, the vampire who murdered her without remorse. I was nearly consumed, and when I finally came back to myself, I realized that seeking only retribution would make a monster of me as well. That was when I took on the name Van Helsing, obtained my licenses and degrees with it in fact, in the hope of evading his detection while I waited and watched and the years crept by. I must pursue the course for the sake of all, but not for my own ends, my own anger and hate.”

He would not release her eyes, his focus searing as he continued, “You too must find a way to separate yourself, to retain your purity of heart despite the terrible mission you undertake. Do what you must to save all, but do so without letting it twist your soul with similar darkness.”

And so, in their desperate alliance, they all had their roles to play - Aurora’s bowed but unbroken suitors, and she, Aurora’s dearest friend. The three gentlemen had rallied around Emma, swearing to protect her in her friend’s name. And Killian, their worthy advisor and leader, had not yet steered them wrong. She wanted justice and what retribution could be found for the torment Aurora had suffered. None of them would falter. They had taken solemn vows. Now all that remained was to see the mission through.

Emma could only wonder how had her life been altered so drastically in a few short weeks. Such thoughts replayed through her mind in what was at first a rose-tinged procession as she recalled how bright and full of promise she had been when first arriving on the coast of Whitby for a holiday with her childhood playmate. It had been some time since she and Aurora had seen each other, and those first days on the shore were spent in a haze of sunshine and laughter. They caught up with one another’s lives as they shared tea and biscuits on the wide veranda of the Spindleton’s gorgeous summer cottage. They giggled under the covers long into the nights, whispering of Aurora’s debut season, the many eager suitors who had vied to court her, and her blushing fondness for her chosen fiancé Sir Philip Thornswood, Lord Briarling. They also chuckled over Emma’s adventures - how she disguised herself in men’s pants to move freely while researching her stories, and the various pseudonyms she used when submitting her pieces for publication, subverting the male-dominated publishing world. 

It had been an idyllic change from the crowded, dingy part of London where Emma could afford to live and work. Aurora’s family belonged to the upper echelon of society, well-known and old-moneyed, and Emma had been mostly alone in the world for as long as she could remember. She was discovered on the front stoop of the Widow Lucas’ boarding house as an infant, wrapped in a snow white baby blanket with her name stitched in purple as the only clue to her identity. Fortunately, the Widow Lucas was a formidable woman, well-versed in making her way in the world against harrowing odds. She had already raised a granddaughter who was now off traveling the continent, so she took in the little blonde foundling and raised Emma as her own, teaching her all she knew. Though the tough older woman - “Granny” to all who knew her, especially Emma - had been gone for some years now, Emma remained eternally grateful that it was her doorstep her unknown parents had chosen that cold dawn so long ago.

Granny had even managed to scrounge and save enough, and was willing to spare Emma’s assistance twice a week, for riding lessons - where Emma had met Aurora Spindleton. Though poor Aurora had been an absolute lost cause at equestrian pursuits, Emma had excelled with enthusiasm, and everyone involved was relieved when she took the slightly younger future debutante under her wing during their lessons.

Emma loved the freedom riding gave her, and Granny was glad to know her charge would have the ability to get help quickly and effectively if ever needed - and defend herself too, if her skill in archery and marksmanship was any indication. In truth, Granny had been secretly delighted. She had lived long enough to know just how dangerous the world could be, and she wanted to see her girl as prepared as possible without completely tarnishing her outlook.

Though Aurora’s family was of a higher social standing, they had always been welcoming and kind to Emma whenever she visited their townhouse in Mayfair. She sensed that they were glad their only child had found a practical friend who could provide a steadying influence on Aurora’s naive, head-in-the-clouds sweetness. Since gossip photographers insisted on capturing and reporting the doings of the peerage, her parents were certainly relieved that Emma’s tips and encouragement had kept Aurora from being caught falling off her mount or in some other embarrassing faux pas. Aurora, for her part, was so endearing and open that Emma couldn’t resist being charmed. She might have been cosseted and sheltered, but she was hardly the sort of snob Emma had expected to encounter when mingling with the upper crust during her lessons. Instead, Emma was pleasantly surprised to make her first close friend - a friendship that lasted for years, with Emma always missing the Spindletons when they left for the shore in summer, counting down the days until her confidante would return.

This year, however, she had received a request, along with a train ticket, to join them at Whitby. It had been wonderful - strolling, swimming, and lovely summer hours blending together joyously - until all had gone horribly wrong. If only the happy, haze of sunshine-warm days had not gone dark and tinged with blood.

Aurora had already been betrothed to Philip by the time Emma had arrived. Still, it had been lovely to meet each of the worthy men who had sought her hand. With not an ounce of malice in her slender body, they had each sworn their friendship and fealty, even after the troth had been gently rejected. Even without Aurora there to blush and smile sweetly while introducing them, Emma could easily see why her friend might have been drawn to each in his own way, despite the obvious differences between them. All the men who had sought Aurora’s hand in marriage were honorable and true, respectable and worthy beyond reproach. Their faithfulness to Aurora tested beyond natural bounds and withstood the onslaught, and Emma felt the protection of their bravery as they had rallied around her when she faced a similar fate. If only any one of them had understood what had preyed on Aurora before it had been too late!

Philip Thornswood, Aurora’s betrothed, was the most like her young friend in Emma’s eyes. Upon first meeting the landed peer, she felt the warmth in his large, chocolate eyes, his gentle strength and charm, and she knew they would have melted Aurora’s heart irrevocably. There was a sad sweetness to his expression, as if Emma herself returned a bit of his lost love to him with her presence. He had bent over her hand to gallantly kiss its back, and she had blinked away tears for the happiness that Aurora would never enjoy, knowing the two would have been well-matched beyond her friend’s wildest dreams. All she could do was press his hand in return, and give him a wordless smile she only hoped might express her bittersweet feelings.

Graham Morris, from the wild, rolling hills of Ireland - a cowboy of sorts, as they would call it in the Americas - was a man of few words and swift action, easily winning and debonair, but  also a bit rumpled and informal. He was clearly happier out of doors, more comfortable in the woods and riding horses than in a crowd of people, and yet his easy good humor and almost bashful regard could easily have swayed her young friend. He was an excellent shot, ever on the alert, and a godsend to have in their desperate endeavor.

The third suitor, Dr. Jefferson Seward, was a celebrated and innovative physician who had fought to restore Aurora’s health with every fiber of his energy. If the foe he had battled had been a mortal man rather than an immortal being, Emma had no doubt they would have prevailed. Though he was slightly older, he was thoughtful and doting; Aurora would have naturally been fond of him. The affection between them had been undaunted by her choice of another - so much so that when Jefferson had found himself losing the fight for her life, he had urgently sent for his friend, the renown Professor Van Helsing, expert on the supernatural forces, to do what he could not.

And that was how she had come to be in this rattling horse-drawn carriage, racing up a treacherous mountain path. The devious monster who had taken everything from Aurora - and who now threatened to drain Emma’s own life as well - awaited her in the deserted outpost at the end of this long night’s journey. Her hands clenched and unclenched in her lap. Every few minutes, her fingers reflexively gripped her reticule, its strap looped around her wrist, drawing comfort from the small Derringer hidden within its folds. She also took strength from the knife secured in a special holster at the top of her stockings, pressing against her thigh. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of Professor Van Helsing - Killian - explaining its purpose as he presented her with the clever sheath. He had been deathly serious about her safety, but there also had been a heated flicker of clear attraction when she shyly gestured to ascertain where it should be worn, a moment that had ignited a warmth deep inside her.

The gentle feathering of gray in his hair near his temples and sideburns reminded her of the vast experience and knowledge he had gathered in his life - the very things they were all counting on to help them survive. The deeper lines around his startlingly bright blue eyes and at the corners of his firm lips reminded her that he had once smiled much more than he allowed himself to now. It made Emma wish to see him do so again. Everything about the man radiated power and purpose, commanding her respect from the moment they met, just as Aurora’s terrifying affliction had reached its peak. 

They had not won the victory any of them had prayed for, least of all Lord Briarling. Emma had hardly been able to bear looking at the strong young man bowed by grief as she had boarded the carriage for her mission. Philip Thornswood had given her a hand up onto the step, and was the last to speak to her before Killian Van Helsing’s own farewell. The gloom in his demeanor made her very glad she was not leaving the young gentleman alone, but in the company of true comrades. Even so, she trusted that Philip would not allow himself to falter in their cause. That steady hand, such a gentle support for her own as she ascended into the carriage, might have trembled in the doing, but had not hesitated to drive a stake into the breast of one he loved most in all the world for the sake of her eternal soul.

Breaking from her reflection on the journey’s beginning, Emma remembered herself suddenly as an eerie calm seeming to settle over her surroundings. She was instantly on alert when the carriage began to slow. A shiver of trepidation ran up her spine, returning her harshly to the present and the task before her. Outside there was a foreboding, unnatural quiet, only the crunch of the carriage wheels and the sound of the horses’ hooves on the rough ground broke the eerie silence. They rolled to a stop, and Emma leaned from the window, intent on calling up question the driver.

To her utter confusion and horror, when she glimpsed the seat where the driver had perched, she found no one there. He was gone, and she was stranded alone in the dark. Uncertain of what to do, but knowing she could not stay on the desolate mountain pass in the cold, Emma exited the carriage and alighted on the ground. As her feet touched the rough stone and dirt beneath, some unnerving signal was sounded. The silence was broken by the howling of wolves - loud, spine-tingling, and coming from every side, all around them.

There was no way to outrun them, and as the echo and answer of their baying circled nearer, Emma knew there was no way through their number at any rate, even without being able to see. The horses stamped and tossed their heads nervously, panic driving them as instinct warned them predators lingered just beyond the faint circles of light from the carriage lamps. She would not leave them to be devoured; nor would she lie down and wait to be torn apart herself. She was nearly there!

Desperate and trembling, but steeling her resolve, Emma moved to the front of the carriage, intending to climb up onto the driver’s box, take the reins, and break through the pack, to drive them to the castle herself. It might have been her imagination, her terror breathing life into her senses, but it felt as though the creatures drew closer still. She could almost hear the heavy pants and growls between their mournful howls and feel their hot, slavering breath on the back of her neck. A nervous glance over her shoulder showed only moving flashes of grey fur and horrifying red eyes shining out of the shadows. She had gripped the metal railing to pull herself up when all seemed to fall away, the night going perfectly still.

A dark figure glided with unnatural grace through the mass of half-seen forms. The pack almost seemed to bow their shaggy, sharp-toothed heads before it, if Emma could at all reconcile that impression in her mind. One would almost believe they had been summoned.

The slim, dark, and sinister figure appeared before her, having reached her almost before Emma could mark his movement. Wearing a fine black cloak trimmed in thick fur and reaching almost to the ground, Emma saw little else but the flash of deep garnet in its lining and the glimmer of an evil, yet irresistible, smile. A pale hand reached out of the folds of the garment, outstretched to take hers in strangely formal greeting.

“I believe you are seeking me,” a sibilant voice nearly crooned.

Emma fought back a shudder at the sight of dagger-sharp nails at the end of long fingers somehow reminiscent of spider legs, pulling her into the web. She wanted to deny his claim, but all resistance failed her. What else could she do but allow the cold, dry hand to encase her own, and pull her forward through the wolves and dark and gathering mist? This was the nightmare she had come to find…

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @laschatzi

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight

@stahlop @myfearless-love @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @kday426 @lfh1226-linda

@tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @drowned-dreamer

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @resident-of-storybrooke @everything-person

@undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm

@donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @revanmeetra87

@goforlaunchcee @laianely @belovedcreation @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot

@grimmswan @ultraluckycatnd

[freddie-77-ao3]

sup yall we're vibing here

anyway. hey, my name's freddie, and i'm finally trying to write an actual intro/master post which... we'll see how this goes.

important stuff is highlighted in orange.

so, basic stuff:

as I said, my name's freddie. he/him pronouns. i'm a college student (majoring in accounting, might add a psych minor). not gonna say which college but i'm currently in california.

i've been on tumblr since 2019 i think? not under this account, this started as a fandom account and then spiralled out of control... really fast. um, my regular tumblr which i've not actually opened in ages is @chronicchthonic14 so. yeah.

not particularly relevant to this blog, but i might mention it at some point so, i have autism and adhd. and some other things but. like. that list is very long and those are the two most relevant because i promise if i come off wrong/mean, i didn't mean to, i just forget to make my words normal. but. those are the two most referenced. if for whatever reason someone wants to know more or has questions you can send an ask ig?

i'm scottish, born there. moved to US when I was four. finishing uni and moving back.

some quick warnings

this blog definitely contains cursing/vulgar language, whatever you want to call it, so if you're not comfortable with that, probably not the blog for you, as i don't tag cursing or anything for you to filter out.

if, for whatever reason, if i ever reblog something that contains a slur (against racial minorities, queer people, anything) i will ABSOLUTELY tag that though.

also if anyone has any trigger warnings they think any content needs, please let me know-- asks, dms, comments, reblogs

the cursing thing also applies for sort of dirty jokes? think that only applies to like. two posts and very not explicit. those aren't currently tagged but if they get any more explicit they certainly will be.

queer identity because the explicit reminded me, i'm asexual, and probably straight. maybe bi? dunno, don't particularly care. and i'm trans. ftm. this isn't the blog i talk about that on usually though, unless it relates to a specific ask or a fandom thing.

which, getting into what this blog is for because i can't think of anything else i need to add here (guys let me know if i forgot important stuff, please, i'm an idiot!!! i will forget the important stuff and write random shit instead!! i've already deleted three tangents from this!!)

sooooo

fandoms!! ones i write and/or post about or will potentially post about

percy jackson extending to hoo, toa, tkc (definitely post way less about this), mcga (again, way less). haven't read TSATS or COTG yet, but spoilers are fine. i post way more about minor characters. write fanfiction for and have some posted (both on here and ao3) and a bunch of snippets.

dcu-- films, comics, animated shows, all of it. personally, my favorites are young justice (the comics, not show version), new teen titans, and batman inc (batgirls, nightwing, and red robin esp). late 90s yj run is my favorite, and i loved the DCeased event. favorite batman comic is definitely court of owls run. no fanfics posted, but some on docs.

mcu-- way less so, but have a stucky oneshot. slowly making my way through in timeline order.

throne of glass. i'm an aedion and chaol apologizer because they do a bunch of dumb shit but then WHO DOESN'T in this series. fanfics in doc, not posted.

this would go on for ages if i listed everything so instead, here's an ask i answered on my fandoms/genres and everything. feel free to send me asks about anyone. if you send me something about radium girls i may cry though (tears of joy) so there's your advanced warning.

main things you'll see on my blog are incorrect quotes, snippets, and the occasional fic

this^^

my... idk, contact policy? seriously what do i word this

asks are always open, anon is on.

if you send hate... whatever. i'll probably delete it.

unless i find it funny. then I'll post it. there's really little you could say to me that would hurt.

when i say asks are always open, you can drop anything you want.

literally anything

you need to vent? want advice? want to request headcanons? request a fic? give me a prompt? ask random things about me? something else I've forgotten? go right ahead

if you want to ask me to update my fics? go right ahead. sometimes i forget i didn't post something.

send as many asks as you want, i don't care if it might be spam

i can't promise i'll respond to asks in a timely manner, sometimes i open my inbox and forget they exist for months, i'm sorry. if it's something you really want answered you can send another one

dm's are alright? if you want to be friends or something, go right ahead.

anyone can reblog any of my posts/comment/heart, i don't care. you want to heart 50 things in a row? i adore you. if i had kids, you would get my firstborn

if we're mutuals you can ask for my insta/give me yours.

now, other accounts:

anyway, i think that's it?