#{MEMES}「Hell Frozen Over」

[gelidemperor]

Tag Dump

[darnell-la]

Can you do a follow up with the project x!wolverine x government employee!reader (it can be smut or not I just really like that story)

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: project x!logan howlett x government employee!reader

warnings: tied up, trapped, sniffing, hunting down, roughly fucked against a tree, pinned, choking, “dragged” through the woods, fucked on the patio, ass slapping, hair pulling, etc.

note: we will be making a part three where they contact Charles's school for mutants to warn them about the government, but the government hacked into their call and found out where Logan was hiding out and keeping y/n.

Logan will be more sweet in the next one as y/n grows out of the fear of him.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

when y/n woke up, she was dangling from the ceiling by her wrists. It took her a while to realize, she was in a basement full of big freezers and sinks. For a second, she thought she was going to be cut up and frozen to feed to whoever until she saw a man sitting on the stairs, leading upstairs.

“W-Where am I?” Y/n said, voice coming out lower than she expected it to. “Home,” the man spoke before getting up. He came out of the light, now shaking off the figure.

He was shirtless, yet had jeans on. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know why. Was it because Project X had her tried up in god knows where, or was it the fact she could see all of his chest?

He was sweaty, hairy, ripped, muscles flexed every once in a while, veins popping from his skin and smooth.

“It’s passed midnight, but I bet you’re hungry. Went to the store then cooked us up some food,” he spoke as her eyes traveled all over his body. She felt like she was in a trance.

“Up here, princess,” his voice was closer. She didn’t notice how close he was until his fingers lifted her chin. Even though her feet were a few inches from the ground, he was still towering over her.

“You hungry?” He asked with a head tilt. “Let me go,” she spoke, not knowing what else to say. “No,” he spoke back, voice sounding stern. She could hear the seriousness behind his tone.

“And if you try runnin’ you’ll regret it,” he said, body now touching hers. Y/n quickly went to kick him right between his legs, but he knew what was coming. He surprised her by pulling her leg to the side of his waist. She went to use the other, but he did the exact same thing.

“Relax, princess,” the man smirked down at her as she tried wiggling away, but doing so made her cunt rub up and down his clothes length. She prayed he wouldn’t notice, but he felt the wet spot soaking into his jeans.

“If you act good, I’ll fix that for you,” the man whispered in her ear, pulling her body closer to his. Y/n held bad the whine she almost let out. What was he doing to her?

Logan eventually pulled back and walked to the corner of the room to lower her rope. He then walked back over to the girl as she looked down, not knowing what to say or do to the man.

He wasn’t giving off any type of serial killer vibes. He didn’t seem like he wanted to do any kind of killing. A part of her felt saved than she’d ever had, especially because of her job, but she felt off just letting this man win what he wanted. And that was her.

After y/n’s hands dropped from the ropes, she lifted her knees and connected with his groin. The man fell to the ground in pain as she pushed past him, running up the stairs.

The slightly frightened girl ran towards the front door, thinking she was free until she noticed a device on the lock that needed a code. “Fuckin’ hell,” she shouted before running around the rest of the house to find another way.

“You ain’t gettin’ outta here, bub!” Logan yelled from downstairs, finally getting up from the ground. You would think a mutant like him wouldn’t feel that pain, but he did.

Y/n panicked, thinking she was doomed until she had an idea. A stupid one which she slightly felt bad for doing but she did it anyway.

“Son of a bitch!” Logan finally made it up the stairs to the sound of glass breaking. She was out and running for her life, knowing he’d be furious about his genitals and glass.

Y/n ran as fast as she could through the woods, a bit terrified of the dark and animal noises, but the real animal was back at that house. He is an animal, right? That’s what they said he was.

Y/n had stopped after a few minutes to catch her breath. He’s never been the kind to run.

As she rested, she looked down at her feet, swing scratches and blood, but she’d get over it. She needed to get away.

As the young woman went to take a step to continue, she heard a noise behind her. She quickly looked back but saw nothing. Maybe it was a squirrel or something, she thought.

Y/n turned back around to start walking until he saw the view of an angry Logan in her face. “Where ya goin, bub?” He asked. Y/n instantly screamed at his presence.

Before she could move, the man tangled her to the ground, pushing his hand down the middle of her back to pin her into the dirt.

“No!” Y/n fought in anger, thinking she was actually going to escape. “When I said no, you ain’t listen, now didn’t you?” The man said through his teeth as he forced her to dress up.

“Logan, please! N-Not out here, not out here!” She begged, thinking people would be able to hear this scene going on and go and check, just to see her getting drilled into the ground.

“No one’s out here, princess. Not for another mile or so — You’re all mine out here,” the evil low laugh he let out as he pulled his jeans down was insane. He hadn’t even pulled himself out of his boxers. He wanted to take his time with her out here.

Y/n tried kicking her legs, but what was the point? He could smell her leaking down her folds. He knew she wanted this, and he was going to make her understand.

“I said, no!” Y/n shouted as she swung her elbow back as hard as she could, making him fall back. Y/n crawled away, but only a few inches to look back at him. The fear that grew inside of her was unbelievable.

Logan‘s jaw was dislocated. She popped his jaw.

Y/n’s words got stuck in her throat. She wanted to apologize as the man slowly looked up. He didn’t mean to hurt him. She’s not like that.

Before she could open her mouth, Logan popped his jaw back in place with his hand before moving it around to make sure it was normal.

“You fucked up, bub,” the man said before crawling towards her. It didn’t even look like a crawl. How did he do that? Logan lifted the girl up by her neck and pinned her to the closest tree.

“Ow!” She cried out, feeling the tree bark scratched her ass through her thin and silky nightgown. God, she needed to change soon.

“Logan, ow!” She hoped he’d have sympathy for her, but the way his eyes looked, he was far from it. He wanted to teach her a lesson, and that’s what he was doing.

“N-No, no!” She pushed at the man’s hand, but that did nothing. He ripped her nightgown off like a strand of hair. “Logan!” She shouted, feeling the breeze on her body until his body rubbed against hers.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Logan growled as he pulled himself out of his jeans. “I don’t like that,” he had as he shifted up and between y/n’s legs until they were lifted off of the ground. Her toes barely touched the dirt.

“I-I can't, Logan,” y/n remembered how he fucked her the last time, and he wasn’t even angry at her. Logan let out a chuckle that he soon cut off after he slammed up into her cunt.

Y/n cried loudly as her arms gripped his shoulders. Logan stared directly at her, his face seemed too serious to look at. He was angry. Very angry. But why? It’s not like the pop in his jaw hurt like any other thing her went through?

“P-Please,” she choked as he pushed her neck into the tree harder, just to get a reaction out of her. “Shut the fuck up,” the man said like the tree wasn’t about to break or come out of the ground from how hard he was pounding into her.

“I can’t,” she whined in pain, but too much pleasure to not tighten around him. The way she squeezed him, egged him on further.

“Oh, you can’t? Does it look like a give a fuck? Huh!? Does it!?” He spat as his pelvis roughly slapped against her clit. She couldn’t think straight. This man was fucking her like some wild animal in the woods. She’s literally being fucked by an animal in the woods.

“F-Fuuuck,” y/n dragged with a broken moan. Logan let her neck go and used both of his hands to grip and hold onto her legs, keeping her up and against the tree, not caring how much she scratched at his shoulders and chest.

The man growled in her ear, cock slipping in and out of her entrance as her asshole puckered. He was huge and slagging around like he wasn’t.

Y/n couldn’t say, but her broken cry warned him she was cumming, and when she did, it was hard. “Goddamnit — Fuck,” the man grunted, pinning his feet to the ground to keep up his hard abuse.

“So fuckin’ good — Fuck!” The man couldn’t keep himself together as his nails dug, into her thighs. Y/n was now crying, not because she was scared, but because of the overstimulation followed by a thrust that wouldn’t slow down.

“Yeah? Yeah, is that the spot, baby?” He asked, knowing it was. “Think this is over just because you came? Think ima stop because you’re drunk on my cock? How did that go last time?”

The girl shook her head, half ass answering his questions. “So cute,” the man chuckled before pulling y/n off of the treat and throwing her over his shoulder to give her a small break.

He wanted his fresh meet alive and functioning when he fucked filled her up. Last time he didn’t get that chase, but he swore to god he would this time.

Because she ran so far, he had to walk it, giving y/n some time to come to life. “Lo-“ y/n cut herself off, still having trouble speaking, but held herself well enough for him to understand.

“No more,” she begged, but he wasn’t having it. “Please, no more,” she begged again as she noticed him passing his car parked several feet from his cabin.

“Logan!” She shouted, now kicking and screaming again. The man grew angry but wanted to take her to the bedroom for what he was about to lay on her.

“Logan!” She shouted, gripping onto the side of his house which was a long wooded stand. “Y/n, stop it!” He let her down with a shout as he began pulling her, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to accidentally rip her arms off.

“No!” She screamed before he finally pulled her off, causing her to fall on the front steps in front of his house. The way she fell and landed on her hands and knees made him say, fuck it.

“You wanna be fucked like an animal? Fine,” he said as he came up behind her, pulling his cock back out before plunging into her, earning a scream that made him know he hit the right spot instantly.

Logan grew an evil smile across his face as he tugged on her hair, making her arch her back before slapping at her ass, causing her to bruise lightly.

“Little sluts get treated like slut, y/n. You could’ve be fucked nice and sweet on the bed earlier, but no — You wanna run,”

Y/n’s mouth slacked as her eyes crossed from how hard the man was pounding on her. “You see that, bub? Look right up there, right into that camera,” he forced her to look at his security.

“Gonna tie you down and make you watch how dumb you look on my dick,” the man spat, making y/n feel the burn in her eyes, but not from embarrassment. From too much pleasure.

“Yeah — Yeah,” the man repeatedly groaned as y/n squeezed him with a shake in her body. “So fuckin’ pathetic, I might have to give you back,” Logan said, knowing he’d never do such a thing. “Nah,” he added drill in her head that she ain’t goin’ nowhere.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ...

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Broken Vows and Promises

*Bzzt*

Upon hearing your favourite ringtone your hands quickly snatched the phone on your vanity. Heat rushes to your face, your hands trembling as they open the message you received from your love. Butterflies erupted everywhere while your heart hammered against your ribcage in anticipation. He's arrived home. He's finally home!

Suds🧼: Arrivin at the bar soon hen. Ah can't wait tae see ye. Wear somethin nice. I've something important tae ask ye.

If you thought your heart was hammering before it's practically breaking through your chest now. You put down the phone after replying, finding it very hard to contain your excitement as you squeal with joy. You place your hands over your heart trying to calm down so you can continue getting ready. You were almost done anyways, just needed to apply his favourite lipstick. You were also wearing his favourite dress. A classy backless number, one he often enjoyed groping you through.

It's been far too long since you've seen him. He's been so quiet lately, it made you doubt if he still wanted to be with you. But that was just your insecurity worming its way through your brain. His absence was due to the nature of his missions. You couldn't hold that against him. Not when he was working so hard to keep the world safe. He's been more stressed since he joined a taskforce the year prior. But he's proud how far he's come since joining the military at 16. You were so proud of him too. He was your everything. Your first kiss, your first date, your first time… You gaze lovingly at the promise ring on your ring finger, the one he gifted to you before joining the military. It wasn't the most expensive or extravagant ring in the world but it meant everything to you. You never wanted to part with it.

You reminisce as you gather your essentials, still giddy from excitement. All the beautiful memories of your childhood with him coming back to warm your heart. The bike rides down hills, the sneaking into each other's room at night, the Saturday evenings spent at the lake. All beautiful moments you cherished greatly.

You're at the door just about to leave when another notification rings out. You roll your eyes thinking it's Johnny telling you to come soon. Your stomach flustered at the thought of what was about to happen. Your heart felt so full of love you couldn't control your excited jitters. You glance at the promise ring one last time before opening your phone, still giddy with butterflies.

But it isn't Soap unfortunately. It's your friend Freya. She sent a photo attachment. You laugh, she had a tendency to spam you with memes at odd hours of the day. You press on her name expecting to see another stupid work meme…

But that isn't what your eyes are greeted with…

Your throat seizes, air refusing to enter your lungs. Your body immediately loses all its warmth and your left standing there in shock as your heart shatters into a million pieces. It was your Johnny, Your Suds… His hands were on a man's thigh. A very tall bulky man with a mask pulled down slightly. Who was that? Why were they so close? No calm down, there must be a logical explanation. You take in a shaky breath trying to laugh off what you were witnessing. He's probably just had too much to drink.

Two more pings ring out signalling more messages. More images burn into your retina. Images you wish never existed. Images you wished were fabricated. This must be a cruel joke. The more you looked at the images the more you felt the shards of your heart piercing you. What with all the touching? A final notification pings with a flurry of texts that follow a minute later. Your heart sank into the pits of hell…Your Johnny…his lips…his lips were kissing someone else…You don't get much time to look as a plethora of texts push the wretched image away.

You're frozen, unable to think or move…Your body trembles from the ice coursing through you, your blood runs cold from heartache. You're left staring at the phone as messages and messages pour in. But you don't know what to do, where to look or how to feel. You don't even realise when tears start to obstruct your vision. You collapse as a devastated sob shakes you to your core. Why would he do this to you?

You clutch the phone as you bring it to your chest. Your cries ring out through the apartment as your phone continues to ping but you're too weak, too fragile to respond or look at anything right now. Your mind reels with questions you don't have answers to. Why was this happening? How long? How long has he been cheating on you? Did he ever love you? Was everything a lie? Why now? You continue to cry out trying to alleviate this raw pain.

Your phone begins buzzing, jolting you from your sad thoughts. You look down to hope it's Freya, your saving grace in this awful situation. You wanted her to come hold you. You didn't want to fall apart alone. But no it isn't her…Rather it's his name and it burns your eyes like venom.

Incoming call: Suds🧼

This was inspired by @s-coquette two shot fic called Three's a crowd. Go check out their amazing writing! Thanks for letting me use your fic as inspiration.

Masterlist

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[lurochar]

A Snow Day in Hell

Heeey, anyone else remember that ‘special feeling’ meme from years ago? No? Me either

–----------------------------------------------

Hell had frozen over.

Literally.

It was an extraordinarily and incredibly rare occurrence, according to Charlie, who, a literal native demon born of Hell, had only seen it snow once before in her lifetime.

It generally occurred once every few hundred years, perhaps add or minus a century here or there, Lucifer could not be bothered to keep track when Charlie had asked him how often it actually happened since the snow only stuck around for a day at the very most and was just a minor inconvenience.

You were honestly excited to witness such a unique experience and were dismayed to find that Alastor could care less about such a thing.

And so, you had to pester him and even promised him a favour (his proceeding and chilling smile sent immediate shivers down your spine) just to take a stroll with you around town (and would probably regret when he came to collect that favour).

“Of course, Darling! I have no important tasks to complete today. Why, I would be ever so honoured to escort you to town on such a… lovely day.”

You gave Alastor a skeptical look when he glanced outside with an expression that screamed the opposite of what he was saying.

He clearly hated snow.

“But, seeing my partner beg me in such a pitiful manner – well, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Maybe you should have just asked Charlie? She seemed just as excited as you to see the snowfall.

It took quite a bit of self control for Alastor to not let out a dark chuckle at your varying expressions. You may be his companion, but he was still a sadist through and through. 

Maybe it was a bit soft when it came to you though. Just a little bit.

Besides, as irritating and cold as it was, a little snow, that would literally only last for a day, would never hurt anyone, right?

~00~

“It’ll be on any minute now!”

You covered your face with a pillow in pure embarrassment, unable to look at the screen of the TV as Charlie bounced in excitement. 

How did she find out? 

Ah damn, she already gathered the others to watch.

“W-why are you here?” You barely lifted your face enough to eye Alastor, seeing him sitting smugly in his usual chair. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You told Charlie, didn’t you!?”

“Well, of course I did!” Alastor’s grin was utterly demonic and he was obviously taking pleasure in your mortification. “Normally, I am completely against these awful picture box shows and was utterly baffled when you agreed to a… television interview, Darling, with me when you are completely aware of my distaste.”

“Uh, wait,” Angel Dust raised his arm, “you’re on TV, Smiles? How did they capture you on camera? How’d you not, ya know, blow up the whole network with that whole staticky thing you do? Why is Vox even letting this air?”

Everyone glanced over to Alastor, but he answered nothing.

You had no idea either.

“Oh, it’s on!” Charlie pointed with a wide grin and you slumped over, ready to just pack your bags and leave to save yourself the embarrassment.

On the TV, the scene was that of you and a tall figure that was distorted, blurry, and pixelated, yet was clearly Alastor from shape and colour alone. Honestly, you were surprised he was showing up even this much and not blowing out the camera like Angel Dust had pointed out.

It was a simple question, you were only stopped by the news reporter to ask what you thought of the unprecedented snowfall.

You had just been caught up in the moment, the idea of experiencing the whole once-in-a-lifetime thing with your partner.

So you had replied with something straight out of a Christmas romcom movie or something equally as cheesy. You really had no idea where it came from. Maybe the fact that Alastor had summoned an umbrella and was holding it over both of your heads?

It was mainly so he wouldn’t get snow in his ears, you would find out later.

“Isn’t this just amazing? Snow that falls only every few hundred years? It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Your face was beginning to turn red as you continued on without waiting for another question from the reporter. “Being in the snow with my lover like this immerses me in a special feeling. I love it.”

Oh fuck.

How the fuck could you say that with a straight face!?

It was clear that Alastor felt the shame for you, even through his blurry distorted figure, you could see his ears flatten against his head and his head completely turn away from the reporter like he wasn’t there to hear your cringey words.

“Oh my Satan, are you fucking serious?” The news reporter sneered at you. “I just asked you about some fucking frozen water. Not your version of a romantic date you’ll have in your shitty wet dreams.”

You blinked and the distorted Alastor slowly turned his head back towards the reporter.

“This is fucking Hell, not some Barbieland bulls–”

You couldn’t help it and a few of your more demonic features were showing before you could stop them and you grabbed the umbrella Alastor was still holding. “You asked me a question about snow and I answered and then you make fun of me for that!? So what if I want a romantic outing with my lover!?” You shoved the umbrella’s pole into the gut of the reporter and growl into the camera, hearing the cameraman cry out before it cuts out and the interview is over.

.

.

.

There was complete silence.

“W-well, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.” You scratch your cheek, “J-just forget what I sa–”

“Oh, that was so romantic!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and sparkly, “I never knew snow could make you feel that way.” She gasped loudly, looking at Vaggie. “There’s still time! Come on, Vaggie! We need to go out in the snow to ‘immerse ourselves’ in that special feeling!”

Vaggie just throws you a grumpy look before sighing and following after Charlie.

Angel Dust is laughing his ass off, “Special feeling? Seriously, Dollface? Did that cold freeze your brain cells or somethin’? Well, at least ya showed that dick reporter who’s boss. Smiles, over there, did nothin’.”

“I don’t need him to do everything for me.” You muttered, glancing over at Husk and, for once, glad to see he’s too drunk to care and Niffty had lost interest as soon as she saw a cockroach. 

You looked over to Alastor.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked with a sigh, “Watching me embarrass myself and then lose control on the news that’s aired all around Hell?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Very much so, Darling. Not only have you provided me with great entertainment, but now you have also given me an excuse to go after the one who aired your follies. I do believe I should give my ‘old pal’ a visit quite soon.”

Yeah.

You really should have just asked Charlie earlier.

[entwinedmoon]

This month is the 40th anniversary of John Torrington’s exhumation and autopsy. I’ve been doing real-time daily updates over on this post to show just how long and drawn out the process was. It took over a week, starting from when Beattie arrived on Beechey to when they first started digging to when they finally got the coffin open. Right now, those updates are in a bit of a lull because, after they dug down to the coffin, they had to wait for permits to move onto the next part, so there won’t be another Daily Torrington Dig update until August 17.

While we’re waiting for Beattie to get his permits to crack open a cold one (Torrington’s coffin) with the boys (his scientific research team), you can check out my Torrington blog posts to keep the spirit of the season going. The posts Sacred to the Memory of and A Star Is Born would be especially applicable right now as they explore Torrington’s death, exhumation, autopsy, and the media’s response to the photographs of his well-preserved body.

But there’s something else I wanted to share here, another type of media response that I’ve known about (and had a copy of) for a while. I shared it years ago on Twitter, thinking it would get a laugh there, but that was, er, not the reaction I received, so I’d held off on sharing it anywhere else because I thought most people would find it inappropriate. However, I was reminded recently by a friend (don’t know if they want to be tagged here or not, so I’ll go with not) about the existence of this particular piece, and I realized that this might be something that would be more appreciated here on Tumblr, where we like to photoshop Torrington’s corpse into memes, ship him with the guy he’s buried next to, and want to see what he would think of Takis and flavored vapes.

The article I’m referring to is the story about Torrington that appeared in the Weekly World News.

If you’re not familiar with the Weekly World News, it was a notorious tabloid that made up absurd stories and pretended it was real news. Some news stories were actually true—so it wasn’t completely like today’s The Onion—but there were also plenty of clearly fictional articles, featuring bizarre, often supernatural stories, such as Elvis sightings, a double-decker bus mysteriously found at the South Pole (“scientists” claimed aliens did it), or Bat Boy, a boy who was part bat, part boy.

Torrington’s level of fame within the cultural consciousness of the time meant that he, too, got to experience the tabloid treatment.

(CW: pictures of Torrington’s mummified body beneath the cut)

Published on March 3, 1992, was this front-page story:

Man buried in 1845 brought back to life!

Sailor’s coffin frozen in arctic ice 147 years!

Hush-hush new drug revives corpse, say doctors!

Yes, according to the Weekly World News, John Torrington was brought back to life in 1992. There’s even a full article all about how it happened.

MAN FROZEN SINCE 1845 BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE!

Scientists revive seaman trapped in ice 147 years!

Sailor back from the dead still thinks James K. Polk is President of the U.S.!

By Cal Sanders, Special Correspondent

The perfectly preserved corpse of a British sailor who was buried in an icy grave after he died on an Arctic expedition in 1845 has been revived by scientists—147 years later!

And while Petty Officer John Torrington’s health is fragile at best, the team of doctors who illegally plucked him from his grave and brought him back to life say he is aware of his surroundings, walking with help and might very well be able to lead a normal life “if this man has the psychological strength to adapt to the 20th century.”

“It’s hard to believe but this man thinks James K. Polk is President of the United States and insists that horses and sailing ships are the best and fastest ways to travel,” Dr. Hermann Richter said in his report on the experiment that brought Torrington back to life.

“Electric lights literally scare the hell out of him and to be perfectly frank about it, he hasn’t quite decided if he’s dead or alive. About the best we can do at this point is take his recovery one day at a time.

“If Torrington survives we will have produced a living piece of history. If he dies, at least we’ll be able to say that we tried to do something that might ultimately have benefited all mankind.”

The decision to steal Torrington’s corpse from its grave in northern Canada couldn’t have come easy for the Richter team, which issued its report to selected European newspapers “from an undisclosed clinic in Germany.”

For starters, the young man’s grave has stood as an unofficial monument to the courage and determination of 128 adventurers led by British explorer Sir John Franklin—adventurers who gave up their lives to chart the last 300-mile-leg of the treacherous Northwest Passage between 1845 and 1848. Torrington’s body was exhumed once before, in 1983, but it was carefully reburied after scientists took a small tissue sample to determine the cause of death. As it turned out, Torrington died from lead poisoning after eating provisions out of tins that were sealed with the dangerous and often lethal metal. Needless to say, news that Richter and his associates secretly exhumed the body a second time, smuggled it into Germany and succeeded in bringing it back to life have infuriated many experts, some of whom consider the theft of the body criminal. Richter himself insisted that Torrington is in good hands and will be free to go when he is strong enough.

The doctor went on the say that he understands why the experiment might sound extreme to some people but he believes that the revival of Torrington “furthered the best interests of medicine and science.” Richter’s report did not include any of the techniques that were used to revive Torrington but it did mention “an exciting new drug” that might one day make such revivals routine.

Because he died of lead poisoning, it is also believed that Richter and his team somehow cleansed Torrington’s tissue of the deadly metal before bringing him back to life. For the record, Torrington was a man of 20 when he died. Now he looks like a man of 80, photos supplied by Richter show.

“A century and a half of death is enough to age anyone,” said Richter.

There’s a lot to unpack here—the morally dubious German doctor with a mysterious, Frankenstein-esque resurrection method; the burial and exhumation dates both being off by one year for some reason; the short, skinny guy in the obvious bald cap that they thought would pass as Torrington; and so much more. Interestingly, a lot of the article seems to focus more on how scandalous it is that Dr. Richter stole Torrington’s body, as if the writer thought that the revival of a long-dead corpse wasn’t enough of a scoop. Also, I’m not sure if Torrington would even have been aware that Polk was president in 1845—was he the sort of guy who paid attention to international politics? Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to think Victoria was still queen?

Many people might be offended by such an article, but the Weekly World News never cared about who they offended. Unsurprisingly, one of those who did take umbrage with the story was Dr. Owen Beattie.

In a short article in the Times-Colonist Metro about a week after the Weekly World News story ran, we got to hear Owen Beattie’s reaction.

HEE-(T)HAW . . . It was standard checkout rag fare. “Man Buried in 1845 brought back to life” shouted a recent front page of Weekly World News. “Hush-Hush New Drug Revives Corpse,” it continued.

These startling revelations bore some significance for both the wax museum’s Ken Lane and University of Alberta anthropologist Owen Beattie. The man purportedly thawed like last night’s dinner was John Torrington, one of three sailors from the Franklin expedition buried on Beechy [sic] Island. The Franklin expedition—and John Torrington—feature large in the wax museum’s arresting Frozen in Time expedition. Torrington’s body was exhumed from its Arctic grave in ’84 by Dr. Beattie, who determined death was from lead poisoning.

Neither Ken nor the anthropologist felt their respective professional worlds crumbled with the News article. (It ran with a photo of an emaciated looking chap being assisted by doctors and reports that Torrington is terrified of electric lights, still believes Polk is the U.S. president, and horses are the only way to go.) Ken shrugged it off with a what-can-you-expect-from-a-checkout-rag laugh. The anthropologist wasn’t quite so forgiving.

He refused to comment on it at all, insisting that his research speaks for itself. Apparently John Torrington was quite dead when he was exhumed and equally so when buried after the autopsy. But then that’s not the sort of stuff that sells check-out rags.

While it’s perfectly understandable that Beattie would not appreciate something like the Weekly World News’ fake story, what I find most interesting about this snippet is that there was a wax museum with a Franklin Expedition exhibit that included Torrington??? Does that mean there was a Torrington wax figure???? Where is it now????? Can I buy it?????????

These very important questions aside, it’s fascinating to see that Torrington was well known enough to make it into a “checkout rag.” Maybe it’s not the legacy he would have wanted, but at least it’s worth a good laugh.

[desultory-novice]

"Apologies" AU - Masterpost

"Before Popstar, Adeleine lived on 'Shiver Star,' the embittered residents' nickname for the frozen husk of old Earth they were left on after the migration. But she isn't sad, for she has a best friend in her older brother. And he would give up anything to protect her...."

Characters: Adeleine, Noir (loosely based on unused Dark Matter design) / Dark Matter Swordsman, Gooey, King Dedede, others...

-

Note that this "comic" started as a well-received one shot that proceeded to grow into a series. As a result, it's very experimental. Expect random inconsistencies and continual artstyle shifts.

Bolded text are the newest posts

[Apologies AU] -Shiver Star- “Apologies”  “One Sneeze”   (illust) “Summer”   “A Walk in the Snow”   “The Swordsman”  “Wonderful Gift”  (illust) “Damnation”  “Salvation”  “Unstoppable”  “Brightest Star”

-Dream Land 2- “Sibling Reunion” “Big Brother Instincts” “Unsung Hero”  “The Perfect Vessel” “To Protect” “Matter Over Mind” "Darkened Skies" (illust) “Last Will” “Ego”

-Side Stories- "Freeze" "A Cold Hell" "No Friends"

"Honestly, it was all worth it"

"Never Never Land"

-

[Noir Fontaine - Initial Ref Sheet] [Noir Fontaine - Kirby OC Tourney Profile]

-

[Noir's Field Trip]

Please see the above post for links to all Noir content following Dream Land 2. In short, I submitted him to a silly popularity contest and let people ask him questions, many of which served to reveal his backstory and emotional state during various events. It also provides the lead up to Noir's ultimate fate, ie, The Good Ending.

-

[White-Haired Noir] “Dark Matter Painter”  (gift art - how this whole idea started...) "Have You Ever Killed Before?" (reblog sketch - W.Noir is born...) "Why Did You Stop Me...?" (reblog text + sketch - W.Noir in Kirby 64)

“You’re a good knight!” (illust - W.Noir and Ribbon) “The Body Remembers” (illust - W.Noir's scars) "Knight Costume" (sketch - W.Noir and Meta Knight) "My Trauma" (sketch - W.Noir and Meta Knight)

"Like Brother Like Sister" (comic, white-haired Noir origin) "Each From His or Her Own World" (comic, one of various endings)

"Three Challenges Noir Had to Face and One Meta Knight Did" (fanfic - W.Noir and Meta Knight in Planet Robobot) "Cold Air" (fanfic - W.Noir and Meta Knight's first meeting)

"The Little Prince" (illust - Adult W.Noir) "Brighter Skies" (Sketch - Adult W.Noir and Kirby)

[Snowflakes Timeline - cw: body horror + bad end] "I'll Never Leave You" - Script + Sketch "...Zero Three..." - Sketch + Script + Illust "Melted Snow" - Script + Fictional Boss Fight "Null v0.3" - Sketch + Silliness

[Extras - Art (canonincal)] “Ugly Scarf”   (illust - our first look at Noir) "It'll All Make Sense Soon, Right?" (illust - Noir + Adeleine) "You Won't Win..." (illust - Noir's last moments) “Was I A Good Brother...?” (illust + text - storycrafting for Noir) “That’s…Funny…”  (illust - Adeleine's notebook) "Blue Penguin Scarves" (illust - Dedede and Noir's Scarf)

"Happy Birthday!" (sketch - Adeleine and Noir)

[Extras - Art (non-canon)] “Full Regalia” (illust - Dark Matter Blade “Gijinka”)  "No Hands Club" (sketch - incredibly short MariPav Crossover) "Looking Over You" (sketch - Angel Noir he's not dead yet!!) "Hell Branch x Apologies" / 2 / 3 (sketch - unexpected crossover!?!) "Games You Play When..." (sketch - the siblings + Steven meme) "Family Wedding?!" (sketch - the siblings + Raquelle/Rimura) "Adeleine meets Dark Matter Painter" (sketch comic) "Noir meets White-Haired Noir" (sketch comic) "Hell Branch x Apologies Returns!" (sketch comic) (Leads to same post as "...AGAIN" below)

"Ending D" (illust - Everyone dies...) "Sempai Noir" (illust - Adeleine draws Noir) "sEmPaI bLaDe" (illust - Gooey draws Noir)

[Extras - Scripts] “Vestige” (script - Susie + Adeleine) "Evil Science" (script - Meta Knight + Susie) "W.Noir and Taranza + Adeleine and Magolor" (scripts) "...AGAIN." (script - Noir in Dream Land 3) (Leads to same post as Hell Branch Returns" above) "Why Does Life Suck?" (more Hell Branch crossover)

"Re_Birthday" (script/sketch - Noir reflects as Adeleine mourns)

[Extras - Asks] "Warning Sign?" (text) "W.Noir and Meta Knight" (text) "What was Gooey...?" (text) "Adeleine, Noir, and 'bullies'" (text) "Noir as Dream Land 3's Dark Matter" (text) "Dark Matter Painter's Light" (reblog; White-Haired Noir lore) "Why hell though?" (text)

[Shiver Siblings Takeover] (For one weekend, I let Adeleine and Noir "answer" any asks about them. White-Haired Noir shows up too. Somewhat non-canon, but surprisingly connected?!?)

Please Send Positive Thoughts to... Which Kirby Adventure... [w/ Sketch] If You Had a Wish-Granting Clock... Food and Warm Clothes Arrive... [w/ Sketch] A Crystal Ball to See the Future - Noir... [Comic] A Crystal Ball to See the Future - W. Noir [Comic] Have You Been to the Forgotten Land... [Comic] (This ^ one is canon to W.Noir btw!) So Zan Roasted Your Sister Online... A Conversation (?) With Marx [Comic] Thanks for the Fun Weekend [w/ Sketch]

[lizaluvsthis]

Destiny has already decided

- What if (in Triple Threat AU) - 

- Eratica got to talk to her inner self? (Eri) -

Summary: Eratica got sent to the abyss where she happens to meet her inner-self

Talked to @dreamteamredstinger about couple of Lore drops Eratica has and the AU itself, since eri's my fav this story is about her and her innerself ^^

Anyways enjoy lovely fans and to people who love Eratica!

Especially to RedStinger since this is one of the first gift fic he's getting

A white light suddenly burst into the plain white space, revealing a lone woman caught off guard by the unexpected appearance. 

Time seemed to slow down as the person’s eyes widened in realization. For a brief moment, fear consumed her, but she refused to let it control her. 

With a clear and steady mind, she quickly assessed her situation and decided to use her sword as a makeshift stair; she stabbed it into the ground just before her body could touch the floor.

Her boot landed on the top handle, and she gracefully landed safely on the ground, her sword still firmly embedded in the floor.

Her feet stabilized as she took in the surroundings around her. 

Her eyes darted around, taking in the endless white spaces that seemed to stretch indefinitely. 

With a determined look, she pulled her sword from the ground, its weight firmly gripped in her strong grasp.

"Where in the hell am I?" She said aloud, her hood falling to her shoulders revealing her face and her mask hanging loosely around her chin. She took a deep breath, taking off her mask momentarily as she looked around the space in confusion.

The woman's face revealed signs of battles past. A scar on her left eyebrow, a scar on her cheek, and hints of corruption on the left corner of her cheek that crept down her neck. 

"What is this place...?" she asked aloud, her voice echoing faintly in the quiet space, the volume seeming out of sync through the emptiness surrounding her.

Her gaze fell beneath her feet, and she looked at the tile reflecting her appearance. 

Suddenly, a faint glow caught her eye, and her focus shifted towards it.

Her senses tingle with anticipation, bracing for a possible encounter yet to come.

The surrounding atmosphere suddenly darkened, the glow intensified to an explosion of brightness. 

In a quick motion, Eratica shielded her eyes with her cape, protecting them from the blinding light that engulfed them all around her as the explosion occurred.

As the brightness faded and the abyss returned to its previous state of blank white emptiness, Eratica slowly lowered her arm, eyes opening once again. 

She steeled for the unknown, preparing to face whatever may come.

Only to find that she was staring back at...herself?

Her eyes widened in surprise to beheld her inner self, transformed into a young, healthy, and unblemished version.

The other version of her wore a purple sleeve and sported long, flowing hair, and eyes appearing innocent.

She couldn't help but take notice of the other version's stature, as she seemed shorter in comparison to her own. 

This difference was both unsettling and yet strangely captivating.

Eratica felt frozen in place, her hands remaining firmly clamped onto her sword's handle as her eyes locked onto her past self. 

Astonishment washed over her, prompting her to utter "You're...me..." 

Her brow furrowed, deepening the frown that now adorned her face.

Eratica's confusion only deepened as her eyes locked with her past self, the glowing yellow aura around her adding to the surrealness of the situation. 

“But how? How is this possible?” Yet no words came from her past. 

The silence between them felt almost deafening.

As the memories flooded back to Eratica, images of the past came rushing to her mind. 

She remembered the rise of the memes, their dominion over the territory, and the chaos that ensued. 

Bloodshed and destruction ravaged the lands, cities were reduced to heaps of rubble, and an army filled in vengeful hearts was ready to strike. 

The most haunting memory of all was the moment where she had taken her own brother's life…

Eratica could feel the weight of the memory as it pressed upon her conscience, its presence overwhelming.

In a desperate attempt to deny the reality of her past actions.

She took a few steps backward, her body instinctively distancing itself from the horrors she had inflicted. 

Her inner-self, Eri, now stood before her, an expression of anger evident on her face as she posed the question, "Why...?"

Eratica's body stiffened slightly as her mind wrestled with memories, her feet momentarily rooted in place. 

With a deep, purposeful breath, she managed to center once more, bringing clarity to her thoughts. 

Her attention returned to Eri, watching as her former self stood there, tears welling up in her eyes and a look of anger and hurt painted across her face.

"Why did you do that...? You..." Eri started, her voice trembling in a mixture of sadness and betrayal.

Eri's voice rang out in anguish, blaming Eratica for the death of her brother.

“You killed my brother!"

 However, Eratica responded to a cold, impassive tone, her face lacking emotion as she firmly stated, 

"He is not our brother. He has become a parasite. And parasites always will be parasites until they've grown to harvest from the mind of each being's existence..."

Eri's eyes dropped to the ground, her fists clenching tightly as she digested the harsh words spoken by Eratica.

Eratica remained cold and unflinching as she listened to Eri's outburst. 

"Why are you sad? I did what we were supposed to do, we finished our job," 

she stated matter-of-factly, in a hint of confusion.

But Eri's anguish only intensified, her frustration and anger reaching a boiling point as she yelled, "THIS ISN'T RIGHT! ALL OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" 

To a surge of emotion, she ran up to Eratica and lashed out to a weak punch, but Eratica dodged the attack effortlessly.

Her glow intensified, illuminating the space around her. 

In a sudden motion, she conjured up a small sword that bore a striking resemblance to Eratica's own. 

To a determined push forward, she issued a battle cry, her voice implied with anger.

 "YOU TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME!"

Her swing came down hard, the force behind it powerful enough to almost knock Eratica off her feet. 

But the present Eratica stood her ground, her blade held firmly as a shield, defending herself from the onslaught.

“And who are you to think of that to yourself?!”

Eratica's anger flared, visible in the purple glow of her eyes shifting from red. 

She dodged Eri's attack, knocking the sword out of her grasp and pinning her to the ground. 

Her sword pointed menacingly at Eri, Eratica issued a harsh decree.

"You are nothing. You are not worth being yourself anymore," she declared, her voice cold and commanding. 

"I am in control here. And no such parasites shall live."

Her vision fixed on Eratica, a look of empathy and contemplation on her face as she uttered the question, 

"What have I become...?"

Looking down at her younger self, Eratica remained cold and neutral, her eyes devoid of kindness or mercy.

The anger and hatred that resided in her heart radiated outward, consuming her without a trace of compassion.

Eri's voice trembled in regret as she confessed, 

"I've become the worst to everyone, haven't I?” 

Eratica spoke “They think I'm the villain, but I tried everything to save their lives for this." 

Her grip tightened on her sword, anger welling up within her, but she fought to keep hers in check, slowly calming down.

Eratica's voice trailed off, choked in anger. 

She took a deep breath before speaking again, 

"And yet, what did I get in return? Nothing but the loss of my brother, all because of those damned pests."

There was a brief moment of quiet as the two versions of Eratica stood facing each other, both reflecting on the shared struggle and the pain that had driven them to such extreme measures. 

Though separated by time and circumstance, they shared a common bond in the loss of their brother, 

a pain that had consumed their hearts and led them down a path of anger and violence.

Eri's words echo a sense of self-blame and regret. 

She held accountable for the choices made.

 On the other hand, Eratica remained steadfast in her belief that the memes were the root cause of their troubles.

 She wholeheartedly believed that the chaotic influence of the memes had led to all the suffering and chaos.

"But- what about Minion...?”

Eri's words brought up an old and painful memory, and Eratica instinctively flinched at the mention of Minion.

"No- don't bring this up now, she doesn't matter to me” Her response was brief and dismissive, trying to suppress the guilt connected to their past.

But Eri persisted, her voice added frustration as she yelled. "Then why did you stop?" Eratica paused, caught off guard by the question.

She followed by turning her head to the left at her prompting, and her eyes widened at what she saw.

She stood silent. “Don't you see the other side? The bright side of life? Can't you see how it is for other people that can have different paths?" 

Looking to her left, Eratica was met to an unexpected sight—a vibrant, colorful world filled in joy and laughter. 

People moved about, their faces etched that had radiant smiles and eyes twinkling in mirth. Life seemed to hum with energy and optimism. 

Everything here is so... vibrant and alive.

Eratica turned to the other side and saw the scene unfolding before her. 

The white plain abyss loomed, and SMG3 was there, defending SMG4 with his arms protectively wrapped around him.

Minion had bravely stepped in front of the meme guardians, a look of determination and fear mixed on her face.

She was frozen, unable to move, the weight of her feelings pinning her in place.

Eratica's eyes, something stirred within her. 

She was quiet for a moment, the weight of truth sinking in.

"We were different from our world. We killed our brother... and what did it cost? All of it, just because others turned into those insane meme parasites? Was it all just for our brother to return? Hoping everything would finally end? Go back to normal?”

Eratica walked up to the front, she stared at Minion's face. 

Regret and guilt seeped into her expression, the weight of her actions and the consequences they had brought upon them all. 

"LOOK AROUND YOU, ERATICA!" Inner Eri's voice cut through the air, feeling frustration and despair. 

"YOU'VE DONE SO MUCH HARM!"

"I did it to protect the people!" Eratica retorted, her voice firm and resolute, standing unwavering in her convictions.

But Inner Eri's response was equally intense. "THIS ISN'T OUR WORLD! IT DOESN'T WORK LIKE THAT!”

As Eratica's resolve cracked, the pieces of her facade falling away, she stood there, dumbfounded by the realization that hit her. 

Inner Eri's blunt words struck a chord, causing her to question everything she thought she understood.

"Take a hint," Eri urged "What do you think the people around this world act like? Four's crew, who weren't even affected by the meme parasite?"

Eratica paused, letting the question sink in as she looked around, seeing the world differently for the first time.

"It's because they're good people, they protect others from the dangers that are a threat to their world. Look outside. 

Don't you see that nature is still living? On its peaceful side, you wonder why. 

Because they're the main guardians. 

They guard to protect whatever is harming their own home! And what do you think you're doing?!"

Eri's eyes glanced at the sword, she urged, 

"Please... think about your decisions... think it all through... I don't want us to... to go insane again... please..." 

As she spoke, she slowly raised her right hand, offering it to Eratica, hoping for her to take it and embrace the path of understanding and healing.

As Eri stood there, offering her hand to Eratica, she noticed that her hand was fading away, slowly vanishing before her eyes.

Eri's time is running out.

Eratica stood there, torn apart to her and the weight of her past actions. 

Eratica's voice was soft and strained as she spoke, "Please... make a decision... I don't want ourselves to end up in a big mess like this... let it all go... it was all... in the past…"

Eratica felt confused. 

In her world, the guardians had always been in control. But now that she saw them in this world, they seemed different. 

She tried to find why they seemed so different, but it made her doubt what she had thought was true.

As Eri pleaded with Eratica, the urgency in her voice was palpable. 

"Promise me you'll change," she began, her voice barely holding back tears as she spoke of her brother and their world. 

"For us, your brother, the world we were in... promise me," She begged, her hand still extended, the promise hanging in the air. 

"PROMISE ME!" she cried, the weight of her request clear in her emotional outburst.

Eratica's gaze fell upon the sword before her, the embodiment of her identity and the symbol of her convictions. 

It took a moment of deep contemplation for her to reach a decision. As her sword clattered to the ground, a sense of resignation washed over her.

A form of a heavy sigh, she admitted.

"I can't promise that." 

The words hung in the air, went to a mixture of regret and acceptance.

Despite her problems, Eratica knew that some things couldn't be guaranteed.

As the weight of the decision bore down on her, Eratica had self-doubt. 

Her inner self slowly fading away and leaving her to choose her own, the significance of the moment magnified.

The silence seemed to only amplify the tension of the moment as Eri stood there, knowing that whatever decision she made would have far-reaching consequences.

As Eri's words echoed through the air, a bittersweet chuckle escaped her lips. 

Forming a gentle, saddened smile, she continued.

“Then you are an idiot." 

The weight of her statement hung in the air, a stark contrast to the finality of her fading away into the ether.

Eratica stood there, alone in the silent aftermath, grappling the weight of her choice and the consequences that lay ahead. 

The absence of Eri's presence left a void in her heart, and the echoes of her words still resonated within her mind, a bittersweet reminder of the choices made and the paths that had led them there.

As Eratica gripped her sword tighter, determination burning in her eyes, she declared in a firm voice, "There is nothing WORTH for me to give... I've paid the price, and I must end it." 

As Eratica sat there, a wave of emptiness washed over her like a merciless tide. 

She finds it hard to understand, grappling the question at her thoughts. 

“Why does it hurt?” It was a question that had no easy answer, and as the weight of pain and loss settled upon her, she wept without restraint, shedding tears that seemed to come from the depths of her wounded soul.

As tears streamed down her face, Eratica felt a touch on her shoulder and provided comfort.

The faint figure of a familiar soul stood beside her.

Its voice cutting through the haze of her pain as it spoke words that offered both guidance and purpose.

The red gleam flickered in the dim light as the familiar soul urged her on, 

"Come on, Eratica. It is your DUTY to save everyone. Before it is too late, you must fulfill your destiny"

A determined glint in her eyes, Eratica wiped away her tears and stood upright, gripping her sword tightly.

The voice of the familiar soul's encouragement echoed in her mind, reminding her of the weight of her responsibility.

"You're right," she acknowledged, her voice firm yet in a hint of sadness. 

"I must... for the people and everyone," Eratica took a deep breath, filling her lungs to a mix of resolve and lingering guilt. 

Despite the conflict that gnawed at her heart, she steeled following the path she was setting her upon.

In a final swing of her sword, Eratica sent forth a cutting arc that tore open a portal, its shimmering light rippling in the surrounding environment.

With a heavy heart, (I'm sorry) the words tinged in regret of the path laid out before her. 

"But destiny... has already... decided."

~☆~★~☆~★~☆~★~☆~

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

PAELLA

Hello I had a random idea for a potential snippet of my Alastor x OC/reader set in the future when the two of them are in hell and MC makes him suffer. *feeds you scraps at my front door*

Asexual Alastor x Asexual/ADHD reader

Summary: It's a short one but Alastor tries to be sweet about something and MC decides not today and infodumps on him about tranquilisers. Spoiler: she gets Lucifer involved.

Word count: 389

Alastor is a sex repulsed ace (like me) in my fics and will remain so forever. <3

You can find the main fic HERE

“Well you know what they say!” Alastor trilled, eyes closed as he tapped you on the nose. “Every kiss begins with—“

“Ketamine.”

He froze, static going silent and his smile strained as his eyes flew wide open. His eyebrows gave away his confusion as he glanced at you, finger still hovering in front of your face. You continued.

“A hydrochloride tranquiliser, used in veterinary practice, mostly as an anaesthetic or something for horses.” You explained, breaking eye contact with him to reach your fork over and nick a piece of chorizo from his plate whilst he was still frozen.

It took a few moments, but the usual static eventually returned, Alastor blinking his red eyes a few times to get them to focus again. It wasn’t until you reached your fork over a second time to scoop a whole mouthful of paella that he finally let out a sigh. 

“If that’s what you want.” He huffed, his smile loosening into a tired closed-lip one. “I believe we could find some.”

“Sure,” you said absentmindedly as you typed away at your phone. “Lemme know if it works.” 

He tilted his head, until he suddenly realised what you meant, fluffy ears going pin straight as his eyes widened again. Narrowing them, he leant on his elbow over the table as he brought his face to yours, words coming out in a hiss.

“If you’re suggesting—“ 

“Lucifer?” You confirmed, eyes darting up from your phone. “Yea I’ve already texted him - he said he’s up for it. Apparently he’s too impatient to wait for truth or dare night to make out with you.”

All you got was loud static in response, and you watched him from the corner of your eye as his limbs twisted and eyes blackened in an attempt to stop you. All you did was hold a finger up in response.

“Unless you want me to ask Vox, I suggest you finish the paella I made for you.” 

You heard the static stop, and within a second he was back to normal, munching away at your meal, though now with a prominent twitch in his smile, as he glared death beams across the table. Your phone vibrated, and you read the text Lucifer sent.

“Oh, and he says wear something nice.”

The fork in his hand snapped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor: *sobs in asexual* "Why does MC do this?"

MC (also a sex repulsed ace): NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT

If you know the ketamine meme, make out with me rn.

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

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*grabs you all by the throat* *feeds you content*

Taglist: @theredviolets @mybrainsautocorrect @all-user-error @belos-simp69 @boogiemansbitch @elio-ee @snowlotr @mistresslemonsuger @sugasweettea @jaygrl22 @mysterypotatoink @yunimimii @threefingeredpencil @mydeardelphi @glowinthedarkbones1150 @fluffismystaplefood

[eruden-writes]

Choosing the Bear - Part 3 (Zeke x Bambi)

Shifter Paranormal Romance Supernatural is a Secret 2 of ???

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

Bambi Barker never anticipated having to run for her life from her ex, Duke Walker, through an Appalachian forest. She also never thought she’d run into a white (polar?) bear in the middle of the god-dang forest, either.

Being stuck between a bear and a man, Bambi is about to get answers to questions she didn’t even know she had.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Part 1 - Part 2 - Masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Zeke took a step toward Bambi, closing the space between them. His fists balled at his sides and seriousness pinched between his brows. “You can’t tell no one, y’hear?”

For a breath, Bambi stared up at him, surprised. Did he think she was so vapid as to go blabbing about this to the town?

“What would I tell them? Who would believe me?” Bambi shook her head, giving a bitter snort. She noticed how Zeke still held his shoulders, stiff with tension. Leveling a look at him, she bit out, “Most people didn’t even believe me about Duke.”

Though still wary, Zeke’s shoulders sagged a little bit. He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head toward her. “What’s goin’ on there, anyhow?”

“I split up with him a couple years back, got custody of the kids, but he’s not lettin’ it go.” Averting her gaze, staring off into the darkness of the forest, Bambi sighed, “This time, he took it another step farther.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Her attention snapped back to Zeke, a frown creased at her lips. He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, head cocked and that infuriating masked expression she couldn’t even read back in high school. “What can I do? He’s a Walker.”

Under his beard, Zeke’s lips thinned before he gave a nod. “And the Walkers got the Barfield cops on their payroll, so reporting the harassment and stalkin’ and kidnapping ain’t doing much.”

“Pretty much.” Bambi rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air, frustration making her movements sharp. Silence fell after her short rejoinder. Heaving a sigh, she shook her head and crossed her own arms as she leaned against a tree. “Enough of my sob story. What’s going on with you?”

“Same old, same old.” He mirrored her body language, still facing her but also leaning back against a tree.

“I think I would’ve noticed a hulking white bear trawling through Barfield High, Zeke.” Her nose scrunched as she shot him a cheeky smile. A part of her realized how strange it was to be joking about this supernatural happening, but she couldn’t find the energy to care.

The familiar sour expression pinched at his face, bringing further amusement to Bambi’s lips. Her smile faded away when Zeke growled, “Drop it. Forget that happened.”

“Fine, whatever.” A familiar little ache shot through her, a frown overtaking her lips. Of course, he wouldn’t trust her. He didn’t trust her back in high school either. Hell, he didn’t seem to trust anyone. How in the world he ended up with a kid, she didn’t know. But she supposed one didn’t need to trust someone they fucked.

An owl hooted overhead and something scuttled in the bushes far to her left, reminding Bambi of her current situation. “Can you give me a lift back into town? I’m a little underdressed for a hike.”

“Can’t. I was out here foraging for the sanctuary. Gotta get back and take care of the animals.” Zeke rocked forward, off his tree and half-turned from the human woman. “If you head north, you’ll hit the highway in a little while.”

Bambi, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch. She did stare directly at him, her face frozen in an impassive expression. She was fairly certain he could see her in the dark better than she could him and he seemed to falter, seeing her lack of movement. “You expect me to go through the forest.”

“Yes,” he replied, his shoulders visibly tensing.

“In the dead of night. With my ex stalking the mountainside for me.” Now Bambi finally moved. She stepped closer to him, inclining her head and raising her eyebrows as her tone became steelier. “Not to mention mountain lions ‘n other bears or – Lord save me – other men out hunting for prey.”

She paused, conspicuously eyeing Zeke as she amended, “Well, human men.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Zeke sighed. “Alright, fine. Stop the guilt tripping. Let me drop Mercy off at home and check on the animals, then I’ll take ya’ home.”

“Thanks, Zeke.” Tension that Bambi didn’t realize she’d been holding oozed out of her as her shoulders sagged.

His expression didn’t melt at her gratitude. “I ain’t bein’ kind. You gotta pay for gas by helpin’ with the animals.”

“Fine by me.” Bambi shrugged, undeterred by whatever chore he might have set his eyes on for her.

“Wait til you see what I’m gonna have you do.” In the dark, she caught sight of him grinning wickedly in the moonlight. It was probably meant to unsettle her or put her off, but it only served to get Bambi to meet his challenge head-on.

“Oh, by helping the animals, did you mean I’d be helping you—“ Her words choked off in a yelp as Zeke suddenly swung around, boxing Bambi against a tree.

As he leaned close, Bambi had to remind herself to breathe. Heat radiated off him and her nose filled with the scent of the woods and dirt and something wild. Zeke’s voice dipped low, a gravel to his words as his hot breath brushed over her cheek, “Don’t go sayin’ fool things, Bambi Barker.”

Covering up the effect he had on her, Bambi gave a slightly breathless laugh. “Aw, and here I thought I was talkin’ your language, Zeke Clements.”

When he pushed away, she caught the corner of the corner of his lip twitching upward under his beard. With a sigh that covered his amusement, he shook his head and turned away from her. “You’re just as impossible as I remember.”

“You’ve been thinkin’ of little ole me? How sweet.” Bambi fell into step behind Zeke, stepping carefully. With the adrenaline draining out, her legs were starting to tremble. Or that’s what she told herself. The aches of running around the forest were certainly catching up.

“You ain’t so little anymore.” Zeke scoffed, ducking to miss a low tree branch that Bambi didn’t even need to stoop for as she passed.

“Excuse me?” A flare of manufactured outrage made her forget of the pain in her feet.

He spun toward her so fast, she ran into his front. Before she could pull back and apologize – all offense forgotten with her own faux pas – warm hands squeezed her sides. She yelped, her hands going to Zeke’s forearms and leaning back as he leaned closer. His warm breath played over her shoulder as he taunted, “Packed on the pounds yourself. You even said so.”

Bambi swallowed down another inelegant sound when he squeezed her sides. A mish-mash of annoyance and fluster tangled in her gut. Before she could snap at him or mumble some sort of reply, Zeke’s nose twitched. His face tilted down and she heard another, deeper sniff.

“Where’s your shoes, Bambi?” He didn’t even look up at her. His voice had taken on the dangerous smoothness of a riptide.

“Duke took ‘em. Thought I wouldn’t run without ‘em.” Memories fluttered through Bambi, remembering the times when Zeke had previously taken on that voice. Usually, it resulted in a bully getting a walloping, whether it was a peer or even a parent.

He was madder than a hornet’s nest being used as a pinata. The thought knifed through Bambi, imagining what he thought. How pathetic she’d gotten since graduation. She’d heard enough about her failings from Duke.

Excuses lodged in her throat when Zeke suddenly scooped her up, one bulky arm under her knees and the other at her back. She gasped and instinctively looped an arm around his neck. “What do you think you’re doin’?!”

He’d already started walking again, sticks snapping under his heavy soles. He glared off into the distant night. Bambi thought they looked darker than they had a moment earlier. “Yer feet’re all cut up. I can smell the blood.”

“You didn’t have a problem with me walkin’ earlier,” Bambi shot back, her accusatory tone harkening back to his original plan to let her trek through the mountainside forest.

“Didn’t realize the blood I was smellin’ was yours.” Again, Zeke didn’t look down at her. He just continued glaring into the dark. Though Bambi thought there was an edge of guilt to his words. It was probably her imagination.

There wasn’t much to say in response. Her tired mind had gone to mush, anyhow. With her weight off her feet and the hypnotic rocking of Zeke’s walking, it was becoming harder for Bambi to keep her eyes open. The warmth radiating from the man and the steady thrum of his heart fought against the aches and pains in her body, as well.

Held by the bear of a man – true in more ways than one, Bambi deliriously thought – she slowly lolled off to sleep on that dark, dark mountainside.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

If you like my content, please consider supporting me on: 

*:･ﾟ✧ Patreon or  Ko-Fi *:･ﾟ✧

[merp0515]

Healing Past Scars Chapter 3 Distorted Memory

Summary: After the dealing with so many traumatic incidents, our beloved meme guardain boys have to come into terms with both past and present scars. Will they be able to conquer them with an iron fist or will those same wounds destroy them both?

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts,PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Healing , Developing Relationship

TW: The following story contains dark themes such as disturbing imagery.

Link to chapter 2’s Tumblr version is here , Ao3 link is here and Wattpad link is here

Morning arrived at the showgrounds. You could hear the birds chirping, the soft breeze touching the pine trees, and some depressed ass clown going through the showground owner's garbage dump again looking for anything to help his lovely rat friends get through their day.

With a groan, the blue meme guardian awakens. He didn't sleep well yesterday due to the nightmare he had. All of those images that appeared in his dream felt all too realistic for the meme guardian and it overwhelmed him. He laid there in bed for a minute staring at the circus-like ceiling trying to process and start his day off like he usually does. He sighs in defeat, honestly not wanting to get out of his bed closing his eyes once more.

Maybe for once I can wake myself up later in the day. He thought to himself as he readjusted himself on his couch bed and felt himself drifting into a deep slumber once more.

Silence filled the empty dark void where he stood. Four cautiously took baby steps forward so he didn't accidentally trip over himself as he walked through this space of nothingness. His ocean eyes filled with anxiety and fear as he walked around the place, unsure of where it's leading him to. All he could hear was his own breath and his footsteps leading him somewhere.

“So I take it that your latest attraction didn't really attract more people to the showgrounds huh?” A distorted voice spoke, causing the lad to jump in surprise.

“W-who are you? What do you want with me?” SMG4 spoke fearfully as he heard footsteps echoing in the background heading towards his way. The background around him changed from pitch black to a mix of yellow and black.

“I mean it should be obvious by my voice is.” It continued to say, the voice completely unrecognizable the more distorted it sounded. Four got into a fighting stance, just in case this thing was going to land a surprise attack. It laughs at him, taunting his tense stance as it saw SMG4 getting more anxious by the minute.

“Come out and show yourself!” The showgrounds owner responded angrily.

The laughing stopped.

Silence took over once more in the black and yellow area. The male eyes his surroundings carefully just in case a figure was trying to make any kind of movement.

Suddenly the sounds of footsteps were making their way towards him. He looks at the direction to where the footsteps were being made. Four squints his eyes closer, trying to figure out who or what this thing was.

The figure was getting closer to him and Four felt his breath hitch the more clearer it was appearing to be. He felt his stomach turn and felt like he was going to throw up from what he was seeing. This figure had the disgusting goop of eyes he remembered seeing from the old castle. The creepy red eyed thing wrapped itself all over his body and covered its left eye. His other eye was a bright yellow color and on the same side that he could see he had a mix of black and pink scars that covered the visible side of his face.

Four was frozen in place, unable to look away from the monstrous being that was facing him with sinister intentions.

His smile made him uneasy as hell. It didn't help either that his appearance looked exactly like someone he knew so well. Or in this case, someone that definitely hits a little too close to home.

Someone like…..

“S-M-G-4!” a certain Italian male screeched cheerfully. The fat Italian kicked his door wide open, waking the meme guardian boy from his second nightmare. Four jumped out of his bed and landed on the floor, his body covered in sweat and trying to catch his breath. Mario looked down to see Four on the floor confused, unaware of what the other male just went through his dream.

“Oh. There you are! Mario was wondering where you went!” The Nintendo icon spoke cheerfully. Four groaned in both pain and annoyance as he slowly got up from the ground and stared at the man already feeling both exhausted and relieved to see him.

“Morning Mario.” The tired male spoke. Four lets out a yawn and rubs his left eye from sleep as he waits to hear what Mario has to say.

“Mario wants to know if we are going to watch some memes together today! It's been way too long since we reacted to any memes and Mario misses seeing all the silly things we find!” The Italian male complained at Four.

The meme guardian sighed in response. He looked at Mario with a small fake smile to ease the energetic male.

“Sure why not? It has been a long time and I know the fans have been wondering when we planned to do another meme reaction of yours.” SMG4 said cheerfully as he stretched his back.

“Let me just eat first and then set everything up so we can record the video.” He spoke calmly. Mario's eyes lit up in excitement from the small gameplan Four made and did his signature jump in glee.

“Wahoo! Okie Dokie! Mario will wait for you to be ready! See you in the game room!” Mario said cheerfully as he did a peace sign and disappeared from his friend's room. Four chuckled at the Italian's silliness and got dressed in his iconic overalls, getting ready for his long and chaotic day with his friends.

The Fourth Guardian couldn't help but wonder back to the nightmare he experienced, trying to figure out the weird distorted thing that spoke to him. He sighs in defeat, his memory already blocking to ease his mind. He looks back at his computer set up and walks towards it. His eyes fell on the photo that was his desk and picked it up gently. He stares at it pensively as his internal thoughts were drowning out his surroundings. Four stared at one particular person in the photo, lost in thought.

Super Meme Guardian Three.

His former ex rival, now friend.

Time really changed these two ever since they discovered they were meme guardians by SMG1 and SMG2. If there was one thing he was grateful for, he was glad that they are on the same side now and going on adventures together.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

SMG4 puts back the photo where he first placed it and started to walk out of his room. A yawn escaped his lips as he sluggishly dragged himself to the front door.

“Mario, I'll be back! I'm gonna get some coffee from Three. Do you want anything?” The sleepy male shouted at Mario as he opened the door.

“Bring Mario spaghetti!” The red lad said from the game room. Four rolls his eyes at the request not surprised in the slightest but makes a mental note to ask anyway. “Alright!” He shouted once more as the blue man turned and headed towards Three's Coffee N’ Bombs to retrieve his favorite drink.

[spooniechef]

Helpful Household Items: Air Fryer

To use the meme format: "I've only had my air fryer for a week and a half, but if anything happened to it, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself". I mean, not literally, but largely because I'm not in that place in my life anymore and live alone, but you get what I mean. I had some gift voucher and it was about enough to get myself a small air fryer - only two litre capacity. It seemed a good compromise; I didn't have to spend any money, I could see how an air fryer could or could not change my life, and I could get a new, bigger one if it worked out.

...Okay, I mostly got an air fryer so I could try this quasi-recipe that Jordan Howlett tripped over, so here's your recipe for the post:

I haven't tried that yet, but I will tell you this much: it has absolutely changed my life, and honestly, I think every spoonie should own one. Here's a few examples of why:

It's great for when the physical spoons are lacking. I'm not just talking about bad pain days, either. My experience with fibromyalgia has involved a fair few days where my grip strength is hit and miss, or when I have spasms so my motor control is equally hit and miss. But as long as you're keeping things in a single layer, you hardly even have to turn anything in an air fryer (though I grant it sometimes helps). No bending to put things into or pull things out the oven, no shoving things around a skillet, nothing like that. Just put a thing in the drawer, set it to the right parameters, and withdraw the drawer when done.

To add to that - little to no cleaning. You're using little to no oil, so all it takes is lining it with parchment and a quick wipe-down when done. Washing a skillet is hell on bad days, especially if your skillet is a good heavy one.

It's also great when mental spoons are lacking. My personal experience with a combination of ADHD and brain fog is that sometimes I forget when something's in the oven, mostly when I'm doing oven chips or something. Or I get a little unsure as to exactly how long a piece of meat should be in the oven for the level of done-ness I want. Or both. Either way, I could go to the rigamarole of getting an egg timer and setting it and the like ... or I could have a nice little machine that not only automatically beeps like the microwave when it's done, it also turns itself off like the microwave when it's done. So if I, say, got involved in something I couldn't easily pause because I didn't realise my food would be ready in two minutes, I don't have to worry about it burning.

There's an economic benefit as well. I'm single. I live alone. Even if I got (when I get) a larger air fryer, running one of those to cook a chicken leg quarter or a a salmon fillet has to be easier on the electric bill than doing it in a full-sized oven. Because of the size, it also pre-heats faster than a full-sized oven, just because there's less space to heat.

Seriously, I used it to cook salmon for dinner tonight. Done perfectly with little to no effort. Mine is small, but the basket is the perfect size for a serving of fish or a chicken leg quarter or just the right number of tater tots. Mostly I want a bigger one for when I have company or when I want to do chicken nuggets and tater tots. Also to make a decent-sized batch of potato chips, or frozen fries where I don't have to stop midway through to shake up the contents of the container because their shape doesn't lend well to a single layer in a basket that small. I worried about the space it took up until I learned that an air fryer can also serve as a dehydrator. So I could get rid of my dehydrator, put a good-sized air fryer in its place, and ... I dunno, keep the little one around for emergencies?

No, not for emergencies - for small batches of the above recipe so I don't end up becoming 80% sugar by volume.

[diablo-that-first-spark]

Hell has frozen over: I am deviating from the lore

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my dearest cupcakes, you read that correctly. Hell is indeed an icy wasteland now and the Seven Evils need full winter gear to function. I am officially ignoring certain parts of the lore and deviating back to a previous version of them.

For those who don’t really know me, here’s why this is a big deal:

Lore is sacred.

Respect the goddamn source material.

These are the two golden rules I always follow, no matter the fanart or fanfiction I create (I’m talking about serious attempts here, not jokey sketches or memes, of course). I do not trample over established lore and rules in a world, just because I want to tell my story. I always do my best to make my story and characters work within the guidelines already set by the original creators. I don’t retcon backstories, I don’t blackwash, I especially don’t rainbow-wash, all of these are shameful practices in my eyes, and I would not be caught dead doing them.

Anyway.

With Diablo 4 out and its spin-off stories being published, I am finally forced to partially let go of the “Lore is sacred” golden rule… or at the very least, stay true to a former version of said lore. Namely, the Diablo 3 and the Sin War trilogy versions.

Now, it is obvious that Blizzard is doing its best to ignore D3 altogether in D4, outside of bringing back a few older locations like Maghda’s boss arena or the Forgotten Overlook. Returning D3 characters would rather die than mention anything from that game, while D2 characters (who should be dead 3 times over by this point) can’t shut the hell up about their former adventures.

It is also an undisputed fact that D3 is the least popular entry in the franchise among the hardcore non-fanart-creating part of the fandom. A sad fact, but a fact nonetheless.

Now, I am not saying Blizzard is a shit company, they don’t know what they are doing, I know better. No. Stories change. Things get retconned. Characters rewritten. Course-correction is necessary. That happens to almost every long-running story, it is entirely normal.

I just don’t like these changes, I think they take away from the lore overall. Attempts to erase my favorite entry from the franchise won’t make me happy, naturally, even if I wholeheartedly understand the purely logical and business reasons behind it.

So! Not to mince words, here is a list of every retcon I can think of from the top of my head, that I am going to apply to That First Spark:

1) Nephalem are weak no-name peasants who look perfectly human

Going by D3 and Sin War rules, in TFS nephalem are absolute powerhouses who survive insane shit being thrown at them, just because they are nephalem. Their power level is either off the charts or much higher than normal, both in magic and in physical strength. As a personal preference, I will also make the First Generation Nephalem (namely, Rathma) a little bit inhuman. I lllloved it when we still believed Elias would be Rathma, his design was perfect for the role. I will give Rathma a bit of a redesign for Act IV but his slight but disturbing inhuman appearance will remain so. No full-blown furry designs, that is just ridiculous, good lord.

(One day, I might write a rant about the current state of the Nephalem-era of history, because it is an absolute travesty. One day.)

2) Inarius is just a “lieutenant” of Tyrael

Yeah, nah, eff that. Rhythm brothers, till the day I die.

3) Rathma becomes the First Necromancer after he corrects a very plot-convenient mistake.

(Not going into more detail because the Rathma graphic novel is still very new.)

I’m going back to the original lore, which is far more interesting: Linarian had started a rebellion among his generation, after he realized their children were born weaker because of Inarius’ meddling. The rebellion goes horribly wrong, Inarius manages to kill most of the first generation nephalem with the aid of the Worldstone then he disappears and suffers a fate of isolation that eventually breaks his mind. On the other side, Linarian goes insane over the guilt of leading his fellow nephalem to their deaths, until the dragon Trag’Oul finds him and teaches him of the Balance, giving him the name “Rathma” (“Keeper of the Balance”).

None of this is made up by me, btw. This is how the lore was in the Sin War trilogy books.

4) Demons can be born/manufactured from the blood of angels

That is just the dumbest stuff Diablo Immortal has ever pulled, like hell I will work with that.

5) Lyndon didn’t kill Rea, instead he allows her to make his life hell

Hells, I already retconned it with the ending of Act I, without even trying. I saw into the future with this!

On a personal note: this is the most terrible story line they could have given to Lyndon, I hate everything about it, and I wish it to the deepest pits of hell. He deserves better. Grimdark is utter trash.

6) Lilith is an unkillable boss bitch that walks away from lethal crippling injuries like it’s nothing

Oh do not worry, she is going to be an absolute nightmare to take down. Quiet and co. will have to work for it hard. But originally Lilith has never been the “strahng wahmen unkillable boss bitch” modern day trope, and she won’t be that in TFS either. I have to be clever with what kind of injuries she may or may not receive.

7) Kingsport is on the south-western shore of the Western Continent

TFS works with the Diablo 3 version of the world map. If there is a location that is needed for the story, which shows up on the D4 map, but not the D3 map, I will bring that one detail in. There is nothing big behind this decision, I just grew used to the D3 map.

8) Lilith initiates the Purge of the Renegades because of Linarian's vision her son told her about

I am working with the Book of Cain version: Lilith assumes Inarius is already plotting the genocide of the children when he withdraws to meditate on the right choice. So she kills every angel and demon so that should Inarius want to destroy the children, he would remain utterly alone on a dead world. Her gambit would pay off in the end, although not before Inarius banishes her.

---

I am sure there will be a bit more retcons down the line, but for now, these are the critical nodes I see from here.

It probably doesn’t sound too bad for you, and I agree, I am probably making a mountain out of a mole-hill here. However, I have my own code to follow in creative works, and I honestly feel like this deviation from my usual methods warrants a heads-up.

So, anyway, back to the drawing board! I wish I had an ETA to give you cupcakes about the arrival of Act IV, but unfortunately I don’t. Thank you for your continuous patience!

2024.08.26.

[chaifootsteps]

https://www.reddit.com/r/Vivziepopmemes/s/zjfTnKxeYk

This entire thread over a meme pointing out that Stella is one dimensional is making me feel like I’m taking crazy pills. Like the fucking takes in this are shallower than the kiddie pool with the grace of frozen iceberg lettuce.

“She’s a demon and she’s in Hell so she just likes tormenting because demons are bad.”

Except for when we’re shown in universe that demon ≠ being automatically bad. Like Charlie caring about sinners dying, baby Blitz having qualms about stealing, M&M having a healthy and loving relationship, Ozzie and Bee being overall nice people dispite being deadly sins.

“People are 1 Dimensional in real life, some people are just assholes.”

Ok sure but that’s not really that interesting to write or to watch. Other villains at least have an iota of depth to their motivations like Striker’s hatred for royals and Verosika’s past with Blitz, so Stella stands out for being evil because lol fuck it. Especially with how important she is to the Stolas plot she’s so flat and uninteresting.

“Why do people care this much about silly demon show? Just don’t care lol”

What if? I drive my show off of a cliff?

So yea, Helluvaverse Twitter is a garbage fire but Reddit ain’t much better Jesus Christ.

"People are 1 Dimensional in real life"

All of this is clown world tier nonsense but I think this is the one that annoys me the most, because it shows just how limited these peoples' grasp on the real world actually is.

No one does anything for no reason, not in real life and arguably not in fiction either. It's not always a good reason or a reason that makes sense from the outside looking in, but everyone is the hero of their own story. Everyone has some kind of driving factor behind the choices they make.

Readings like this are moronic.

[keeperofquestions]

Verses (Mobile-Friendly Version)

The following are a list of established verses for Duedephelon with various writing partners. I’m only going to be listing named verses with specified planned plotlines or particular dynamics set up for now as otherwise all interactions are each in their own verse. I will add to this over time.

Since Phel’s age can also vary slightly by verse, that will also be listed here as will any of his shards that have been found and what they do past the four he has at the start.

All verses will be tagged “Verse: Name” and will be put in any associated posts, memes, or dash commentary. Adding yourself to one of these verses requires the consent of all blogs involved.

Verse list under the cut.

VERSE LIST

The Constantine Conspiracy

@siempreminta (Dove, Catorina, Emily)

After discovering another person who lost their memory, the Nephilim Dove, the two team up to try and discover what happened to each of them- and may discover a shared history and a common foe.

Phel’s Age: Unknown Found Shards: None

I’ve Lost My Memory but This Librarian Has Let Me Explore Her Dangerous Magical Archive for Answers

@copaceticjillybean (Jillian)

Tagged as “Verse: Archive Dungeon” because… look at that.

Duedephelon has been lead to a magical library with an endless forbidden archive to find answers to what may have happened to him with the help of its librarian. Named like a light novel because it’s basically an anime dungeon crawl adventure.

Phel’s Age: Early 20s Found Shards: None

The Frozen Court

@a-hell-of-a-time (Andrealphus)

Duedephelon has found a steady role in the form of acting as steward to High Marquis Andrealphus and taking care of many of his lesser tasks. In exchange, when Phel is seeking out his shards, he shares the findings with him.

Phel’s Age: Unknown Found Shards: None

New Horizons

@a-hell-of-a-time (Caim, Yui)

After a series of dead ends, Duedephelon agrees to enter the service of a lesser Ars Goetia Caim and journey to the mortal realm- to Japan, where her wife's yokai family dwells. Here he must learn a new people and a new culture while he learns to recraft his artifact with their methods.

Phel’s Age: Unknown Found Shards: None

Perfect Match

@thehazbins (Thea, Maachi)

Phel has discovered that before losing his memory, he was in an arranged marriage to Princess Theodora Arcanus-Custos, daughter of King Purson. They reunited by chance and Thea is determined to both figure out what happened and to make sure their future marriage doesn’t begin in shambles.

Phel’s Age: Mid-twenties Found Shards: None

The Pomegranate Accord

@holyfurnace (Lute)

NOTE: This verse follows an alternate timeline from Hazbin Hotel show canon.

Charlie Morningstar’s diplomatic mission to Heaven has born fruit and a truce has been signed. The exterminations have been paused and the hotel given a chance. To keep both sides invested in the peace, an arranged marriage was proposed by the Ars Goetia offering one of their lesser nobles, and shockingly Heaven agreed, offering one of their exorcists. So long as the accord lasts, they would marry and spend half the year in Hell and half in Heaven. If they don’t kill each other first.

Phel’s Age: Unknown Found Shards: None

Servant of the Stars

@grimowled (Stolas) @a-hell-of-a-time (Octavia) @angelsandemons (Alfred “Pringles” Impington)

Duedephelon’s shattered artifact and subsequent memory loss is the due to the direct actions of Stolas, who intentionally destroyed the young steward’s mind with the intent to mold him into an ideal servant and weapon. Meanwhile, he has developed a deepening friendship with the prince’s daughter who is determined to get him to act more his age.

Phel’s Age: 18 Found Shards: None

[syrena-del-mar]

July 27....

July 27 has always been a day I struggled with. It's my birthday. Some years, I hate this day and other years, I forget about it, usually busy for some reason or other.

Today, I just feel sad.

If some of you follow me on Twitter or talk to me on Discord, you probably know my profile picture is of my sweet old dachshund, Samantha Jane.

Samantha Jane turned 17 years, 5 months and 10 days old today. As of 5:20 this morning, that will be the oldest that she will ever be. And of the 6,731 days she had on this earth, I was lucky enough to have spent the last 1,375 days with her. I know it's funny to say that I expected so many more years with her, especially at her age (insert the Derry Girls meme), but I have 3 other geriatric dogs and she was by far my strongest. I wanted more time with her.

But I'll never get that time with her again and I can never return to 20 hours ago when she was physically with me. So, instead, I'll tell her story to whoever wishes to read this because it's one hell of a life that she lived. I also find comfort that thoughts never disappear, even when they are harder to access, so even if just one other person reads this, maybe there she will live forever.

Samantha Jane arrived at the local pound back in 2007 with the rest of her litter, apparently with a tag that read the date of when they were born. The pound took one look at this litter that arrived and decided that, no, they must be Doberman puppies because of how big their paws and ears. Funnily enough, her first owner, an elderly lady who had just lost her husband, adopted Samantha Jane at 8 weeks thinking that she would grow up to be a Doberman. Spoiler alert... she never did.

But even so, she was so very loved. And from what I heard, Samantha Jane loved her first owner just as fiercely. But at four, Sammie lost her first owner. While I don't know, and probably never will, what Sammie's life was like in her first home, I was told that when her first owner passed away, she accompanied her the whole night, refusing food and water or even to go to the restroom, until her owner passed away peacefully.

From there, she immediately got adopted out to Mr. and Mrs. V, another elderly couple, who were friends of her first owner. If Sammie had been spoiled before, she was spoiled rotten by Mr. and Mrs. V, particularly by Mrs. V. They traveled everywhere together. From California to West Virginia and every state between, the three would go on spontaneous road trips across America. This is probably where Sammie got her love for car rides. And when they were unable to take her? She had a favorite college student who would babysit her and stay over at their home so that Sammie could watch her daily cartoons in the evening on her favorite reclining chair. Mrs. V would type up detailed notes detailing how many green beans Sammie would eat (frozen not steamed), what channels had her favorite shows, her favorite spot to sunbathe, and every other minute detail you can imagine.

Sammie loved Mrs. V immensely—she loved Mr. V as well—but Sammie has always been a girl's girl, and she loved Mrs. V. But time is gentle to nobody, and at the age of 10, Sammie lost one of her owners again. Like clockwork, she sensed something was wrong as Mrs. V was dying and stayed with her, but this time laying herself on Mrs. V's chest—as if wanting to feel her last heartbeat.

From then on, it was just Mr. V and Sammie at home and on those road trips for the next two years. They cared for each other and comforted one another until they couldn't. Sammie was never great at walking in a straight line without roaming, and in one of those times that she stopped to sniff the roses, she accidentally tripped and sent Mr. V flying. In the blink of an eye, Mr. V was taken by ambulance, and this time, there was no favorite college student to take care of her. So, she was placed in boarding for three weeks.

Sammie was not built for boarding and with two broken hips, Mr. V knew it wasn't feasible or good for Sammie to be under his care anymore. So, in the morning, he started asking all the nurses who worked in the assisted living community where he lived if anyone wanted a 12-year-old puppy. News spread, and like a game of telephone, I was told that there was a beagle up for adoption.

By this point, so many people knew that I was looking for a puppy to adopt. I had spent the whole year prior applying and getting rejected by shelters because I was always a step too late to submit my applications. What everyone didn't know was that 7 weeks prior, I had finally gotten the first place on the waiting list for a Maltese-Cocker Spaniel mix puppy, and on Oct. 28th, I had been told that I could pick her up on the 31st. But I grew up with a Samoyed and two big husky-german shepherds, so in my brain, the math of one small puppy + one medium elderly dog really just equals one whole dog. That makes sense, right?

So I did all my shopping, preparing for a tiny puppy and what I thought was supposed to be a beagle. Imagine my surprise, on October 31st, when I arrived to pick up Sammie at Mr. V's home and found myself with a miniature dachshund instead of a beagle. I was shocked, to say the least. But even in that surprise, Sammie came running to me, barking so I would place her in my car. And I mean barking. She barely even gave Mr. V time to provide me with everything he and his wife had bought her: numerous blankets with her name embroidered, her favorite cross-body carrier, all her comfiest beds, all the ties that Mrs. V had made her, and her 70-page medical history book. By the time Mr. V and I were done, Sammie had fallen asleep on the passenger seat without a care.

I like to say that I was tricked and treated that Halloween. She was not the beagle I expected to own, but she was the best friend I could ever have. After picking her up, we drove 4 hours to San Diego and picked up Luna Ivy, who would soon become Samantha Jane's little kid. But even then, during the first couple of weeks, Sammie struggled. She would be happy all day, but the night fell, and she mourned and cried that she wasn't with Mr. V. I would hug her, place her bed on my rocking chair, and do everything that I could to calm her down. But for two weeks straight, she cried every night because nothing worked.

But we all adjusted. It was the pandemic, but we were gifted that time together despite all the bad things. Still, in our little odd way, we became a family. Samantha became my little shadow. Back then, I was in my first semester of law school, and since we were having classes on Zoom, my two girls were always right there on my lap. Honestly, they probably understood civil procedure as much as I did (which is to say, wasn't a lot).

Sammie got to know me and my moods. Whenever I was stressed, she whined until I picked her up and watched TV with her. If Luna was being too much, she regulated. I would even argue that she did most of the training when it came to Luna. She taught Luna how to pee on a pad, let her feet get washed, bark at the doorbell, know when to chill, enjoy a good snooze, and her love for car rides. For never being with another dog in her life, she took to being a surrogate mom incredibly well.

Five years have passed since then. We've gone on several trips together to the beach, the snow, the desert, and across state lines in cars and RVs. Within that time, she got two more dachshund siblings she loved to yell at, a human nephew who would gently pet her back from the moment he could walk, and countless cuddles. She took as many sun rays as she could sneak in and loved to steal some of Luna's food when I wasn't paying attention. She would humor me and let me dress her up as much as I wanted though she would draw the line at shoes.

Now I have a closet filled with her clothes, her embroidered blankets, and her favorite beds, but no owner. Her collar and harness are still hanging up next to Luna's, Samuel Jackson's, and Serena June's, waiting for a walk that is never going to come. I have a cabinet full of her medications that I'll never have to give again. My hallway will never hear the clacks of her feet as she padded through again. And I will never be able to hold her close again.

To some, they might not understand the love of a dog, and they might just think of me as a crazy millennial who is too absorbed with their dogs instead of others. And maybe I am. But that's okay. Sammie was my family. She was there when I almost quit law school. She was there when I got sick. She was there for every single one of my birthdays. She understood. Sometimes a little too well.

And after seeing two of her owners die, she decided that today it was going to be her turn. At 5:20 A.M., Luna entered the room and snuggled beside her on their shared bed. Sammie, who had previously been looking out the door, shifted her head and placed it on Luna's back, getting comfortable for the last time. Seconds later, she would take her last breaths as she looked at her family. We were the last thing she saw in this world.

And just like that fateful October 31st five years ago, I know she will find her way back home this Dia de los Muertos, where her ofrenda will await her arrival so can be with us once more.

[svtellite]

"don't make me fight you." (ph! chooji<3)

˗ˏˋ MEME! ´ˎ˗

Chaos stood there frozen, his eyes widening, seeing Sooji right there while he was on the job. He knew this would not end well, especially with other heroes around him. There he was, utterly hesitant for the first time in his career. He stood there, unable to attack the other; electricity emitted from his fingertips. His gaze was locked on Sooji. His brain is debating what he should do. He knew he had to do something; the thought of any other hero laying their hands on Sooji caused his stomach to churn. Her words echoed along with his internal struggle. "I don't want to fight you," he cautioned, his voice holding a hint of tenderness for her. "So please, get the fuck outta here," he implored, brows knitting together while he stepped forward towards her. "I can't protect you out here," he whispered while looking at her, hoping she'd get the hint.  He looked around; most of the heroes were distracted by whoever the hell she had brought along. All except for one. Of course, it had to be one of the bug boys. River bee-lined towards Sooji as he swung in their direction. "Fuck!" he cursed under his breath, about to regret everything he was about to do. "Glitch out of here; there shouldn't be any heroes in the south end, so you can easily escape there," he informed her. Chaos used his quirk to mess with the headpiece he knew River wore, causing it to malfunction, sending a shock into his ear as he watched River fall from his failed swing, his hand moving towards his ear that hid under his mask. "I'll try to stall as much as I can," he disclosed, looking over his shoulder.