#i don't believe in the afterlife but i *need* to believe there's something for dogs somehow.

[emmavakarian-theirin]

i've had many dogs in my life, today was the first time i got to say goodbye to one.

rest in peace, milo. thank you for being such a good boy, you will be sorely missed. you're with your brother now 😔

[lurochar]

Racy Reverie

In response to this ask

18+ MDNI

-------

“Finally, you don't know how much I need this!”

You smiled at Angel Dust, who collapsed on the opposite side of the couch from you. “I don't mind talking about your job if you need to, Angel.”

“You sure ‘bout that, Toots?” Angel Dust snickered at you, but then sighed almost wearily. “Not sure why you're the only one willing ta listen to me after a hard day, ya know? I mean, everyone in this hotel is a secret freak, right?”

You blinked.

“Little Miss Sunshine and Vagina – you've heard them go at it when they forget to put up their soundproof barrier, huh? Like damn, wonder who's using the strap there?”

That was true, they were quite loud when they failed to remember that important little detail.

“And c’mon, ya think that pussycat wasn't drowning in pussy himself back when he was an Overlord? Or maybe he likes cock better? I can’t tell with that guy. He’s got a good poker face, I can tell you that much.”

Honestly, you had no idea either which gender Husk preferred – he would probably choose a bottle of booze rather than a warm body if you had to guess.

“And Snakes? He has two dicks. Nuff said about that. And he calls me the whorebug?” Angel Dust scoffed. “And Niffty? Uhh, yeah, let’s… let’s just not get into her little mind of horrors.”

Well said.

“And so,” Angel Dust glanced up, a frisky smile suddenly gracing his face, “that just leaves you and Smiles. Spill, Toots. No need to be shy ‘round me. Don’t hold anything back. Everyone here knows you’re both a ‘thing’. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Creepy is into some fucking weird shit, isn’t he?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Alastor… isn’t–” You struggled to put it into exact words. “He doesn’t, well…” You scratched the side of your head in frustration.

“Ah, is he pulling the whole ‘proper gentleman’ bullshit? Doing the courting thing?” Angel Dust shrugged. “I remember you mentioning he died in the ‘30s or something? Does he really believe in the ‘no sex before marriage’ crap? Cuz let me tell ya, I died not that long after that, people weren’t as proper as you’d like to think they were back then.”

You glanced away. “Maybe… that’s a part of it.” You knew Alastor had little interest in the more intimate aspects of a relationship and he had admitted to you he had never done anything with anyone in either his mortal life and afterlife.

Of course you desired to touch him and for him to touch you beyond his own little affections – usually him placing his hand on the small of your back and perhaps a kiss on your forehead.

Alastor was not an affectionate man and you knew that going in and you respected that, but he had never outright told you it would never happen and so you could only hope it may happen one day.

“But this is about you! I said I would listen, you had a tough day, right?” You said quickly, earning a sympathetic look from Angel Dust, but he got the message to change the subject back to himself.

“Bleh, yeah, you got that right! Val’s into this thing called ‘bukkake’ right now, ever heard of that?” He earned a shake of your head. “It’s some Asian shit. It’s where multiple guys cum on you. So I’ve got like twenty Hellhounds cumming on my face – and fuck, dunno if you watch porn or not, but the loads some of those dogs are packing! Felt like I was fuckin’ drowning–”

Your face felt hot and Angel Dust’s voice felt distant as you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t exactly swimming in experience either as you only had a few sexual encounters in life and none had involved… that.

What would it be like, Alastor cumming on your face?

Would you be on your knees in front of him? On a bed beneath him? Would he stroke himself to completion or would you use your mouth? Would he call you endearing pet names or be degrading towards you?

Oh fuck– 

“Hey, Toots! Still there?” Angel Dust broke you out of your fantasizing and you jumped, blinking and feeling your face burn with sheer embarrassment. “Shit, was that too much?”

“No, no!” You tried to wave it off like you weren’t affected. “I-it’s fine! You can continue!” You swallowed thickly.

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. I think I got what I needed off my chest. Thanks for listening to me, Toots.” Angel Dust stood up from the couch. “Wanna get a drink with me?”

You could definitely use a drink right about now. “Yes. Yes, I would.” You got up, heading over to the bar with Angel Dust.

Neither of you noticed the shadow listening in.

[khaire-traveler]

I'm curious because someone recently made the comment that it's only fair for Lord Charon to expect money in return for his services, but this system would actually raise a lot of questions. If you're curious, some questions I thought of are featured below.

(For the record, I still believe Charon deserves recognition for what he does; it's just the coin system doesn't actually make sense when you start examining it closely.)

Please reblog! 🧡 I want to hear everyone's opinions on this.

Not every Underworld god is paid for their labors. Some aren't even given offerings anymore, their names tragically lost to time. So, why is Lord Charon specifically mentioned to require coins for his ferry? Why not Lord Haides, for entry to his domain? Or Lord Thanatos for deliverance of one's soul? Or Lord Hermes for transportation from the mortal realm to that of the dead? Why not Cerberus for letting you through The Gates (he is a sentient being, btw, for those who seem to think he's just a random three-headed dog)?

Does The Underworld have an economy? Why does it need an economy based on coins from the material plane/Earth? How does it even determine currency value?I mean, just imagine how many different people from different countries would have gone to The Underworld and paid with coins over thousands upon thousands of years.

Does payment have to be coins, or is there maybe some other form payment you can provide? Does the value of the item have to be monetary, or can it be something that meant a lot to you in life? More of a metaphorical release of the material plane, in a sense, as you trade off something that ties you to Earth and are officially transported to "The Other Side".

How do you get physical coins onto a spiritual plane?

Why would Charon need coins from the surface world? Does he maybe just have a sick coin collection from over thousands of years of human history?

What about our ancestors who were alive before the invention of monetary coins; were they just expected to stand at the shore for 100 years for not having something that didn't exist yet?

Speaking of the last question, where do animals go? How do they get across the river Styx?

Why would the afterlife require money in order for you to enter it properly? That seems kind of fucked up and more like something a bunch of old men wrote down to declare the wealthy more important than the poor, no?

If this is really just a job for Lord Charon (who is a son of Nyx, mind you), that implies that maybe Lord Haides (or whomever oversees that) could hire others to help him. Is there more than one ferryman on the river Styx? What is their average hourly pay? How can I apply, and does anyone have any interview tips? Seems to me that it'd be based on commission.

Do you think the spirits on the riverbank get bored of waiting? What do you think they do for 100 years to pass all that time? 🤔

[fictionobsession]

devotion

Pairing: Alastor x f!Reader

Summary: She would give anything for him.

Word Count: 1,997

Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, Alastor being psychotic

A/N: okay friends, first time writing for Al. this was not beta'd or really edited at all so if something seems weird just... assume I meant to fix it. also, this was written as a QPR, but there's a little feelings on reader's side if you squint. I'm not 100% on how in character this is for Alastor, but we tried and that's what matters right

---

She plopped onto the shitty couch and pulled her knees to her chest, looking around the shitty house where they'd been hiding out in the middle of this shitty swamp for the last two shitty weeks. The wallpaper was peeling and yellowed, the floors covered in mold and mildew, the running water only worked half the time, and, more importantly, the refrigerator was empty as of six nights prior. Her stomach rumbled just thinking about a nice juicy cut. She sighed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into the daydream of food.

She knew when she'd gotten into this hobby with Alastor that there was a non-zero chance she would wind up on the run someday. She just wished they could have put it off a bit longer, had a bit more fun. She laid her head back against the rotting couch until she heard the creak of the floor near the front door.

Her eyes snapped open and her brows furrowed as she took in Alastor's hunting attire.

“Al, where do you think you're going?”

“Well, my dear, unless you feel like us both starving to death in this dismal abode, I thought I'd better go get some food.”

“Alastor. You know we've heard the dogs nearby. You can't possibly go out there without getting caught, at least until we've had a couple days where we haven't heard 'em.”

“Again, starving is not on my agenda, so we don't particularly have another choice.”

Another choice. Her face hardens as she realizes what another option might be. She stood up and crossed the room, grabbing Alastor's arm before he could open the door. “There is a way for us to make it out of this without you leaving. Or rather, a way for one of us to make it out of this.”

He hummed, and she could see the wheels turning as he put together what she was implying. “I'm not sacrificing myself for you to get away, you know.”

“I know. That's why I'm just asking you to get it over with quickly. You'll get more time, and I – well, I'll at least get to go out on my own terms. If I have to go, at least it'll be for you.”

His eyes widened just a bit, more reaction than she'd usually get, before he shrugged. “Okay. Painless it is. Not usually my style, but I think I can figure it out.”

She laughed, a genuine, full laugh. “I know, Al, and that's why we've worked out so well. But I think you could at least do that much for me.”

He pulled his hunting knife from where he had already slid it into his belt. “Are you ready?”

And with one nod, everything went black.

-

It seemed instantaneous, appearing in hell. She looked around, taking in the chaos around her. Literal dumpster fires, public sex, casual street murders, Hell had it all. Of course, arriving in Hell wasn't a surprise for her. You don't kill that many people and expect to get into Heaven. She wasn't even sure she had believed in the whole afterlife thing until she was experiencing it. She shrugged it off, finding the closest place with a mirror she could use for free.

Her body was... different, certainly. But intact, and honestly, she was quite happy with it. Given the various types of demons she'd seen just in her brief time there, it could've been a lot worse. She wandered, putting together a plan of action for getting herself set up in Hell. It seemed she would need income to make most things happen, which made finding a job a top priority. She also needed a place to sleep, as it seemed unsafe at best to stay on the streets.

She got a job fairly quickly at Ozzie's, though she wasn't thrilled with the outfit they made her wear for the whole thing. But it was money, and easy work, so she stuck with it. Asmodeus offered her a fairly decent rate on rent nearby, as well, so she could have done worse.

Shortly after getting settled, she started feeling pressure on her body in random locations and at seemingly random times, almost like someone was grabbing or poking her to get her attention. Occasionally she'd get hot spots, which she at first attributed to it being hot in Hell. Little scrapes and cuts would appear sometimes as well, but they always healed up quickly. It wasn't until the final time it happened that she realized what had been happening over the past few weeks.

A perfect bite imprint appeared on her forearm, accompanied by a sharp pain, and she realized it must have been an effect of Alastor in the living world. She traced her finger over the mark, which had healed into almost a scar, but not quite. It was a bit pink, but wasn't angry and fresh. She smiled a little to herself, happy that her sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

As time went on, she found herself tracing the mark when she was feeling stressed, upset, or particularly lonely. It never healed all the way, making it always a bit sensitive to touch, and served as a reminder of why she was here. The mark always made her feel closer to Al, which brought a little comfort when things got crazy.

She had managed to stay within the same few blocks that she knew were heavily policed by Asmodeus's people. However, six months into her stay in Hell, she finally had to leave her little neighborhood to buy some things for the bar. She packed her gun, a knife, and made sure she was dressed inconspicuously – the rumors about the surrounding areas were very...detailed...about what might happen to someone who ended up on the wrong side of a fight.

Unfortunately, her preparation didn't keep her from getting spotted by some Sharks outside the store as she started back toward her apartment. She tried to hurry, sliding between demons and other sinners, before slipping down an alley to attempt to lose her tail. It was too late by the time she realized it was a dead end, and the Sharks started cutting off her only entrance.

She took one step, two, keeping them in her sight until her back hit the brick wall behind her. Her hand reached for her gun, ready to pull it when the lead Shark got close enough. Their glares were paralyzing, and she could smell the smoke and alcohol on them at that distance. She felt herself start to shake, taking a deep breath to steady herself before -

“You wouldn't want people to think you're picking on those of fairer means would you?” The sound and feeling of static crackled through the air like lightning as a dark shape enveloped the opening to the alleyway. A long, thin shadow ripped through the air, straight through the lead Shark, throwing him against the side of the neighboring building.

Green sparks shone through the seemingly infinite blackness, a pair of what could only be described as antlers growing from the approaching shape. Two more tendrils, picking up the remaining Sharks and tossing them into the air like dolls. She wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't look away from the gore. Sure, she had seen a lot of violence in her time in Hell, but she hadn't seen that level of overkill in quite some time.

As the last of the Sharks fled only to get a tendril through the skull, she pressed herself as far into the corner as possible, sliding down the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. There was only the hope that the demon forgot she existed, and the knowledge that if he hadn't, she would likely be next up for second death.

The shadow approached, darkness fading as he got closer until finally it revealed a man. A tall man, with horns, but just a man, nonetheless. He was straightening out his red coat, and twirling something around in his hands as he approached. “Always good to have an excuse to let off a little steam. Always good.”

He put a hand out to help her up. As she lifted herself off the ground, he was already vaguely shaking her hand, introducing himself. “Name's Alastor, pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure.”

His name hit her ears about the time he caught a glimpse of her bite, and both stopped dead in the middle of introductions. She looked up, eyes widening as she realized that yes, that was a microphone, and yes, in fact, it had been quite a while since she'd seen that level of overkill, one could even say since her living days. He looked different now, sure, but as soon as she looked into his eyes, she knew that was her Al.

“Well maybe don't wait so long to come save my ass next time, eh, Al?” She smirked up at him, waiting for him to process what was happening. His nails traced the pattern of his own bite on her arm. She caught sight of his tongue tracing across his teeth, as if he was just then realizing how different they'd really become. “I bet your imprint looks a bit different now, doesn't it?” She spoke more to herself than to him as she reached to pull her sleeve down over the mark.

“Why, I should hope so, my dear. I should very much hope so. Let's see just how much it's changed then!” Without any more warning than that, he pulled her arm to his mouth and bit, hard. The new mark bled, sure, but it healed up more quickly than it probably should have, covering his old impression with his new one. His ears twitched subconsciously, his ever-present smile nearly faltering as he watched the blood drip, drip, drip down her arm. He shook himself out of whatever thoughts were distracting him rather quickly before acting like no time had passed at all since they'd been together last. “Now, I don't think I should leave you alone again. It seems to me that you still can't stay out of trouble, my dear! Come along, let me show you where I've been staying!”

“But – Hang on! Al! I've got to go to work!”

“Ah, there'll be no more need of that anymore. We'll send a notice to... whoever you're working for when you get settled.” He raised an eyebrow, practically daring her to argue. She knew, though, that she'd never gone against what he'd wanted before, and she didn't particularly want to start now. She took the elbow he'd offered her and allowed him to lead her out of the alley.

Occasionally, as they walked, she would catch sight of a shadow that seemed to be following them.

“Oh, don't mind them. They're just keeping an eye on your wellbeing. You better get used to it! Having a friend like me, why, other overlords will just be dying to get their hands on you!”

She scoffed, a look of adoration crossing her features before she tactfully replaced it with annoyance. “I'm not going to get any rest now, am I?”

“Oh contraire, ma cherie! You're going to get everything you've ever wanted and deserved. I owe you that after what you did for me up there, wouldn't you say?”

“Oh I just can't wait to show you Cannibaltown! You've got to meet Rosie, yes. You'll get along very well, very well indeed. And she makes the most delectable little treats! Maybe we'll go by tomorrow.”

As he continued rambling, she hummed approval when appropriate, watching him out of the corner of her eye with a mix of caution and longing. As he led her down streets she'd never seen before, she realized maybe this was all her afterlife had needed after all.

[theunvanquishedzims]

Okay, I'm making mummies the new monster du jour

We all know the story: daring adventurer and nerdy historian discover hidden treasure in a tomb, and just need to survive the undead and their curses long enough to douse themselves in holy water or whatever to sally off into the sunset with their bags of gold and live happily ever after.

What about the mummy's side?

You're dead. You've been dead for millennia, had your organs removed and rites read, been embalmed and dressed and laid to rest amid vast and well-appointed rooms chock-full of wealth. You strode into the afterlife like the king that you are, and have been reigning ever since. The river flows with milk and honey, eternal virgins attend your every physical desire, and your generosity knows no bounds as you shower endless wealth upon your adoring people.

And then...it stops. The river dries up, sour milk rotting in rivulets across the sticky bedrock. The maidens have vanished one by one, carried off by callous, disrespectful hands. The gold that once towered in piles around your palace disappeared much more quickly, not a single coin or ingot left. And your people turn on you. Not in anger, but in fear, hands clawing you, gaping mouths screaming soundlessly, bodies flattening and fading like living murals.

Anubis snatches you out of the waking nightmare, to something much worse: judgement. What? You have been judged already! Your heart weighed against a feather, the wisdom and love you so carefully curated in life keeping it light enough to guarantee your safe passage into an eternal paradise.

Except not so eternal, it seems. Robbers, he tells you. You cannot believe it. Even the bravest, most brazen, most despicably faithless dogs would not disturb your rest. Raid your tomb, yes, take your finery, yes, strip your body of its ornaments and peel the gold off the sarcophagus, perhaps, but not you. Your body in its wrappings, your organs in their jars, should be left alone. They could dump your empty bones on the floor of the pyramid and walk away with every material possession your people saw fit to entomb you with, but nothing of consequence would be taken from you in the afterlife.

They have not just taken your possessions, says Anubis. They have taken you.

Taken the sarcophagus? Surely they would remove your body to lighten the load--

They have taken you, he says.

Removed me to some lesser grave, to set up some new king in a glorious pyramid he himself could not afford to build? Tacky, and rude, but it has been done before--

They have taken you, he stresses again.

...have I fallen so far out of favor with my people, with Egypt herself, that they would strip me of my title and my rest?

Your god crouches, and looks you gently in the eyes, and says again, They have taken you.

And then he adds: You have ten days to return.

And you awake on a boat, a horrific thing of metal and smoke, surrounded by treasures packed in wooden crates and straw, admired by an endless parade of foreigners who ooh and ahh over your dead body and do not, cannot understand what they are costing you, making you their macabre trophy of the dullest hunt you can imagine.

You will teach them what a real hunt is.

(The rest of the movie is a timed horror-thriller as the hero, trapped in his own desiccated corpse, shambles around London trying to find his heart and return to Egypt, while attacked on all sides by monster hunters and grave robbers who don't understand that they're the bad guys. It is an epic struggle to stay the course and not fall into a vengeful frenzy, to keep his heart pure enough to pass the feather again, to FIND his heart in the first place.)

[perfectly-intoxicated]

Yancy isn't sure why he reaches out to Hannah.

Or he does know, and it's buried so deep that he can't get a proper look at it. Maybe he could if he wasn't currently pinned down by gunfire and about fifty percent sure he was close to finding out what the afterlife is like.

It isn't love. Hell, he's not sure he's capable of it... or if she is. They spent an incredible night (and morning) together. They've talked here and there. She makes him laugh. He appreciates her sass and how she doesn't take shit from nobody, not even him.

He smiles. Fuck it. Least he could do is let her hear his voice one last time in a message.

"Hey, gorgeous... yer not gonna believe the shit I've got myself into. Or hell, you probably will." He chuckles, and it's cut off by a pained groan as he clears his throat. "Listen... shits gone sideways. I, ah... got some rats that I need to exterminate. I just wanted to tell you that... I had a lotta fun. Yer one of a kind, ya know? Of course you do... that's why I like you." Another groan, pops of gunfire. "If anyone contacts you claimin' to know me, don't give 'em the time of day. If... when I'm good, I'll call you."

There's a pause and a grunt, and it sounds like he's on the move. "Take care, Red."

What the fuck.

Hannah stares down at her phone and feels her food turn into cardboard in her mouth. She swallows, and then blinks as she processes the absolute twisted shit that was the voice message left for her by Yancy.

What the fuck?

“Come on Opie, get off.” She’s gently ushering her dog off her lap, voice monotone and mind blank as she starts to listen in on the news being displayed on the TV. If it wasn’t for the voice message (her gut twists for some ridiculous reason at the reminder of pain in Yancy’s voice), she would’ve ignored it, but that’s one of his stupid cars and that’s his stupid self in the middle of a stupid fucking shootout.

She’s not nervous, she’s not anxious, and she definitely doesn’t get scared. Who knows how many times Yancy’s had to deal with this kind of stuff or something similar?

If she wasn’t currently so pissed off at the people shooting at him and maybe, selfishly, a little bit at Yancy himself for some reason, she would’ve gone back to eating. They weren’t even a thing. They weren’t anything important. She had no reason to go and help him, no excuse she could use without doing some internal searching.

She recognizes that street.

… Fuck.

With a loud groan of exasperation and frustration, she grabs her phone and heads out with her special guitar case and towards the center of the action. She dials his number, leaves a message when he doesn’t answer because he’s in the middle of his stupid fucking life-or-death situation, and quickens her pace.

“What the hell is going on, Yancy? Who the fuck are those people?!” She yells into her phone before lowering her voice to a loud scolding when she gets side-eyed by a random individual. “‘When you’re good, you’ll call me’? Like hell you will. I swear to God, if you get yourself killed, I’m raising you back from the dead and killing you myself!”

She’s already driving to the nearest corner where she won’t be seen when she hangs up.

[icanseethefuture333]

A reading on

Marilyn Monroe

Channeled messages:

"I prefer to be called Norma."

"Being Marilyn was devastating for me."

"I was enriched with the pleasures and joys of the world, but I could only be Marilyn, not Norma."

"I created an identity to escape my sufferings, but only to be faced with more."

"I miss my friends dearly."

"My beloved ___ (she doesn't wish to state who)."

"It's just a dress. She (Kim 💀) did me a favor by ripping that old thing."

"I appreciate others caring for my memory, but they can honor me differently (she's saying don't be weird fr)."

"I have plenty of other dresses that are far more beautiful."

"I actually didn't care for dressing up that much, I preferred to dressed casually and comfortably!"

"At first I was hurt by the movies they made about me, now I just laugh, they are obsessed with me, it's ridiculous."

"Oh, yes... *grins* (I asked is she at peace now that she's passed)."

"I am finally a happy old lady with wrinkles! I'm glad!"

Marilyn's past life lessons

Norma was a master manifestor. She had a powerful subconscious mind and was able to visualize her desires into her reality. Norma wanted change and she got it. Creating a new reality for herself as "Marilyn Monroe", when she previously used to be "Norma Jean". "If I could go back I would have healed first before focusing on pursuing my dream." By manifesting her dream as an actor, this also expanded her consciousness to a higher level. Norma was highly intelligent and spiritual. When she made it to the top, she had regrets regarding her past, her choices, and her loved ones. "I abandoned someone dear to me and I miss them so much, my heart aches for my babies." I think out of everything Norma regrets was her miscarriages or inability to be pregnant full term, she very much so wanted to be a mother but it just never happened. Despite this not being her fault, she feels to a point it was. "I had to mourn the loss of my children and the person I loved the most, I was not well." Her health decreased greatly in her acting career (mentally and physically). "I was being treated worse than a dog. Everyone only liked me to laugh at me, to fantasize about me. At least a dog had a place to go home to, what did I have left? Nothing." Towards the end of her life, she took it upon herself to take many risks and challenges. "I was going to get my freedom whether other people liked it or not. I am in control of my life, no one else." There is some sort of building that's significant or needs to be addressed, but I am unsure of what that place is or what it means 🧐. The events leading up to her death 😳...

I'm just gonna leave this here for interpretation 🙋🏽‍♀️

Marilyn's passing - what is her goal for the afterlife?

Norma does have plans to reincarnate. "I want to be reunited with my children." For her next life, her life lessons will be to learn how to trust others, discover what makes her happy, and to be more disciplined. "I can say I have done things I have shouldn't and I am terribly sorry for. I want to make it up to the people I care about if they will let me." Norma will live a more simpler life and as a way to give her a break from her past life's suffering, the universe could provide her with a happy and healthy family, or she will have to take the steps to get that wish fulfillment, but I do believe it will be possible. She will have to take responsibility for her actions, do something that is a good cause for others, and be empathetic to those surrounding her. I believe in Norma's next life she could work with children, perhaps a teacher? Or participate in a cause that helps with children. If she is unable to have a full term pregnancy, she could resort to adopting kids or being a foster mother. Norma will be more accepting of the challenges that come with this next lifetime and is already aware or prepared for it. "The past is the past and I am ready for my future."

[piracytheorist]

Do you think any of the Forgers believe in ghosts or have a fear of the supernatural?

Anya is part of a supernatural force, courtesy of her mind-reading powers. And she's a child, so she definitely has some kind of belief or fear of something related. I wonder what kind of nightmares she might have and whether she has the instinct to run to someone for comfort after she's had one, cause she most likely didn't have someone to comfort her after one when she was in the lab or in any of the orphanages. Maybe the scientists drilled into her the thought that nightmares aren't real and there's no monster hiding under her bed or her closet.

She probably believes there are aliens and the kinds of monsters she comes up with.

She's like, five, and her imagination runs wild. And again, she herself is a result of human experimentation and has a dog that can see the future, so her imagination limits are probably even broader than the average five-year-old's. But I don't think she has a particular fear of ghosts or anything. Again, maybe the scientists took that fear away from her and maybe not in the kindest and most supportive of ways.

Twilight is a very logical person, and I doubt he believes in anything he cannot see or prove for himself. Even his own feelings are a difficult concept for him to grasp. Shameless self promo of my time loop fic, in which upon his realization that something supernatural is happening to him, he doesn't think "OMG magic is real! What else, am I gonna see ghosts or whatever?", instead he goes like "Okay, how do I work around this".

He's also a spy, putting himself in danger and dirtying his hands to create the world he wants. He doesn't seem to believe in a higher power or benign force that could help him in his mission; if he wants a better world, he has to work for it himself. He also probably doesn't fear of any divine judgment, I doubt he'd be able to do as much morally questionable stuff if he feared he'd be judged for them in the afterlife. He may not even believe in afterlife, period. How would he deal with the idea that, if judged for his actions, he wouldn't get to see his mother again in the afterlife?

As for Yor, she might be somewhere in the middle. Like Twilight, she took it upon herself to rid the world of dangers; she isn't expecting from a higher power to help her. No-one protected her and her brother when they were innocent, so she might as well dirty her hands to protect her brother, because what kind of a higher being that didn't help them when they needed it would have the footing to judge her for that?

That said, I wonder how accurate the translation of that line of hers is here. Cause here it sounds like she will be punished (by whom? Some higher power? The Shopkeeper if he finds out?) for thinking about harming an innocent person.

In the manga translation, it sounds like just by thinking of hurting an innocent person, she could jinx it and actually cause it to happen... or that if she thinks about it too much, she'll somehow end up convincing herself she should go ahead and harm Fiona?

In any case, she might lean more towards thinking supernatural things could happen, but it's not something that concerns her on a day-to-day basis. I don't think she fears of anything supernatural... if nothing else, because she might be confident enough she'll be able to fight off anything with harmful intentions. Gurl was absolutely ready to fight sharks if needed, I wouldn't doubt she'd be able to kick some ghost and demon ass no problem. I doubt she fears of divine judgment either, but unlike Twilight it wouldn't be because she doubts it exists, but because she concerns herself with the present and protecting what she cares about now. Future her can worry about that. And then kick the ass of the deity or demon punishing her for committing murder on the regular because excuse me sir where were you when me and my brother were two starving war orphans? Yeah, thought so.

(anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[tarn-ati0n]

Please tell me about your extensive knowledge of german folklore, Forest Guy

Yipeeeeee :))))

Das Bahkauv

Objectively a funny little guy. This Cow/Mermaid/Bear/whatever hybrid lives in the Kanalisation under the city of Aachen. According to legends it has glowing eyes, a giant tail covered in scales and chains around his neck and legs, that rattled whenever it moved.

You could hear the sound of the rattling chains coming from fountains during the day, but it would only ever climb out of the sewers at night, looking for people who wander the streets in the middle of the night, usually drunks who just came out of the pub. If it spotted them, it jumped on top of their backs or on their shoes and let them carry it to their homes, it was impossible to get it off once it was on you. Because the Bahkauv was a creature from the devil, it got heavier when you prayed, but lighter if you cursed. (In case you ever happen to come across it, that’s probably good to know)

However, it never killed anyone! Once it’s prey arrived home, it would just jump off and look for the next person to latch onto. Also, it never bothered women or children. In conclusion: the Bahkauv did nothing wrong and was actually helping when you think about it. I rest my case your honor.

(Here’s a statue of it on top of a fountain)

Das Klageweib

After that delightfully silly little guy, let’s move on to a staple of German folklore: creepy woman that pull people to their doom!

The Klageweib is Said to be a gigantic woman with a pale face, black eye sockets and a fluttering white dress. On especially stormy nights she can be seen wandering through fields by moonshine. If she raises her arms over a house, one of it’s inhabitants is destined to die within a month.

But don’t worry! Like the Bahkauv, she also has a neat little trick: if you bury a dead dog within the walls of your house, she will stay away from it. Neat. I can’t defend her In front of a court though, even though being a prophet of doom is very #girlboss of her, forcing me to kill a dog is not.

No picture for this one, sorry.

Hans Jagenteufel

„It is commonly believed that if any person is guilty of a crime for which he deserves to lose his head, he will, if he escape punishment during his lifetime, be condemned after his death to wander about with his head under his arm.“

My boy Jagenteufel is like. The first example (and probably origin) of the „headless rider“ figure that’s been adapted Time and Time again. And honestly? He seems pretty chill. He rides around as a ghost without a head on his shoulders and will just leave you alone. He’s gonna warn you to not do the same mistakes he did though, but tbh he’s just looking out for you not to end up like him. He doesn't really need a life hack to keep him away, just... don't be a dick I guess. Jury of the court, he has done nothing wrong! … in… in the afterlife I mean. He did fuck up spectacularly when he was alive.

Btw, it is never said what exactly he did to deserve his execution, but if I remember it right it had something to do with him disrespecting poor people. Kind of a dick move, but he changed.

[sixminutestoriesblog]

cemetery superstitions

One of the things that sets us apart from the other creatures on this planet is the elaborate care we put into taking care of the bodies of our dead. Some of the earliest instances of human culture anthropologists have found are graves, where the bodies were intentionally arranged and left with gifts or items of beauty or usefulness. Graves, and grave-sites, tell us things about past cultures in ways that no uncovered village or city can. They speak of what kind of value the society of the time placed on individuals - and what value the loved ones of the individual placed on them despite society sometimes. Graves were often a place of treasure, treasure in terms of items left behind and treasure in terms of information about the time period and the people. Humanity, almost universally, holds a residual affection for a body long after the life that filled and animated that body has gone.

Humanity also has a tendency to not always believe that a dead body was quite as dead as it physically seemed. Not every item found in graves over the centuries has been to mark the mourners' sorrow. Sometimes its items to help the dead person into the afterlife. Sometimes its to keep them from coming back from there. Humanity, on the whole, doesn't do the whole 'and then it was over' thing very well.

So it is absolutely no surprise that graveyards, filled with mass groupings of burials, tend to have quickly developed a whole slew of superstitions when it comes to the way the living should act when surrounded by so many of the dead.

I'll save the story about church grims for another time since I want to do a post on Black Dogs but it wouldn't be right for me not to mention that, in English and Nordic tradition, the belief was that the first person buried in a churchyard either went to the Devil or had to stay until Judgement Day to guard against the Devil. In Scotland, this was called the faire chlaidh or the 'graveyard watch' and it was only a temporary position passing from the last person buried to the next for as long as the cemetery was active.

People also wanted to be buried on the south side of a cemetery. Whether coming from the belief that the 'south wind brings corruption' or because the south side is usually the sunnier side of a graveyard, in early times the north side was reserved for criminals, suicides, still-borns and other deaths that were considered, at that point in society, either 'less holy' or more likely to cause trouble once they were buried in the form of hauntings. In fact, even 'unconsecrated' ground still held a vestige of human society and being a part of something. Woe to the person deemed so dangerous or cast-out that they were denied a place in the social gathering and were instead buried at cross-roads or other desolate and lonely places far from the shared comfort of others. To this day, humanity still has a driving need to return bodies for proper burial, whether murder victims or fallen soldiers. Even in death, the societal need is for the safety of being with the group.

Keeping the dead close isn't the same as feeling comfortable around them however. There are a lot of rules for the living when it comes to graveyards.

Always hold your breath when you go past a cemetery or you could be the next to die. In some traditions, hearkening back to God breathing life into Adam's lungs, instead of dying you might instead inhale a soul and no body can survive with two souls inside of it. In Japan, instead of holding your breath, you are supposed to hide your thumbs. The word for 'thumb', sounds a great deal like 'death' and since the thumb is considered the 'parent finger' hiding your thumbs keeps your parents safe. In Hawaii, pointing your finger at a grave is inviting one of the dead to latch on to it and follow you home. In fact, if you're walking in a graveyard and you ever hear footsteps behind you, quickly exit the cemetery and whatever you do, don't look back. If you look back, the spirit following you will see what your face looks like and will be able to find you no matter where you go after that. And, of course, a pregnant mother should never visit a cemetery for the safety of her baby.

The state of the grave can be very important as well. Folklore has it that the grave of a good person will naturally grow wildflowers while the grave of an evil one will only grow weeds. If the ground seems to be trampled down over one particular gravespot, the person buried under it was probably a guardian of some kind in life, like a mother or a community leader. Lost souls wandering the cemetery at night will naturally be drawn to places like this, for comfort and guidance. On that same note, wandering spirits in a graveyard will congregate around music, so singing or playing an instrument in a cemetery should be done with awareness. Whistling however should be foregone completely as 'whistling up a ghost' is always a bad idea and leads to danger for the whistler. The sound of ringing church bells force wandering spirits back into their graves.

Rain during a funeral is considered lucky and a sign that heavens is mourning such a loved soul. A clap of thunder signifies that the demons are throwing a fit at losing the soul to heaven! A sparrow at a funeral is a sign that a departed soul is visiting and the same goes for a butterfly, though butterflies aren't limited to just graveyards for that purpose. Empty, open graves are great for curing various aliments if you walk past them but don't linger. An empty grave is a grave waiting to be filled and you don't want Fate to get any ideas about you that way. Open graves should never be allowed to remain empty past evening either. Firstly, because its a safety hazard and, secondly, because its an open space between the living and the dead that doesn't need to get the chance to solidify that threshold. Funerals should also never take place in the twenty-four hours around Halloween. It's believed that evil is roaming the world at that time and the newly dead souls, still innocent, are easy prey.

And the last rule - for this post at least - when it comes to graveyards is to always be respectful. Don't spit, don't lean on the graves, don't walk over them, don't speak ill of the dead, don't get too involved with your PDA, don't steal flowers from them and don't attempt to visit after hours once the sun has set. Remember - you're just a visitor in their house. Being rude will not go unnoticed - or unpunished.

[quantumhealingava]

pick a card Scorpio Lunar Eclipse messages ♡︎

pick a number: (1) (2) (3)

(Pile 1 ): 4 of pentacles - speaks of greed, slight selfishness. needing to give and let go. earth signs come up; taurus, virgo, capricorn and archangel Uriel. we have 'I wonder what will happen next?' showing confusion, wonder. ready for adventure, pause before action. change on the horizon. also a reminder to be mindful of exhaustion; 9 of wands reversed. make sure that financial and energy exchanges are fair: 6 of pentacles. Earth comes through again very strongly; as well as perseverance in reverse. Try to persevere. Big picture thinking: remind yourself of the bigger picture. Pleiades link or reminder of those higher vibrational energies: the Tree of Life comes up as well: clear energies. The colour turquoise comes through. Light blue. The tree of life represents the afterlife, and connection between the earth and heaven. The bond and affection to trees is so deep that Celts believed the actual trees were their ancestors, gatekeepers to the Celtic Otherworld. As such, the tree of life in Celtic Culture is sacred. The Tree also reminds me of the Earth element.

(Pile 2): The Fire element comes up; Aries, Leo, Sagittarius (as well as Archangel Michael). Earth too. (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn), huge themes around career, job, or what you do for a living (what you do for the community), what you offer, what you're good at. This pile needs to learn to stop taking on the duties and responsibilities of others. Carrying way too many burdens, being allowed to put a few things down. Here we see creative inspiration, imagination and conception - ideas around career occurring. Whales come up (cetaceans), the purple frequency and vibration, deep, dark blues. Your vibration is rising also comes up. The Knight of Wands reversed is an indication of feeling lost. This card hints at your struggle to find what you want as your career. You have been feeling directionless for some time now and don't know the right way to find purpose in life. Expansion and growth is also in reverse (your North Node), your (Rahu) in astrology, perhaps check your chart to see which planet, signs and house your purpose is in. There is no rush to grow.

(Pile 3): The 9 of wands in Reverse: needing to relax, take time out, heal, recover. Not repeat the mistakes that hurt you, the actions that did - the choices. Ace of Cups brings in Archangel Gabriel - Cancer Scorpio Pisces, Water and the Water element in general. Whales, dolphins, mermaids, oceans. Star Children comes up as well; the Aquatic or Watery races. (Trying to please everyone) comes up; something typical of water signs. Try not to do this. You may be feeling highly intuitive, emotional, sensitive. You are a natural healer. Healing (Chiron) is in Reverse: try to see a Reiki healer or therapist. Find where Chiron is in your birthchart to figure out where your biggest wounds are, so you can better heal them. Buy books on emotional healing. Set a day aside for only self-love. Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn comes up as well (and birds: specifically a large beaked one. Also pills? Somebody might be on medication for their mental health. I also get elephants and a dog (a big brown one). Pets can heal!

[wario-speedwagon]

Jack’s Squad Has Uno Night

A quick, goofy one-shot fanfic I wrote as copium for the DSAF 3 True Ending

Context (DSAF 3 TRUE ENDING SPOILERS BTW): Everyone has passed onto the afterlife (which is basically Heaven I guess) except at some point, Dave and Blackjack came back for Jack in the void, and Jack and Blackjack re-merged into one being so that Jack could also pass on.

Without further ado,

Jack’s Squad Has Uno Night

“Hey! Hey, you, Phone-face!”

(Oh boy…) “Dave, my face isn’t even a phone anym-”

“Shut up and come play some fuckin’ Uno with us!”

Dave, Dee, Jack, and Peter were all sitting around a table, just about to play their first game of Uno since their Happiest Day.

“Huh. I didn’t even know they had Uno in the afterlife.”

“Come on, Steven, we haven’t started yet, come join us!”

“Eh, sure, why not? What could go wrong…” 

“Hell yeah! We got a spot right here for ya!”

“Dave, I better not regret sitting next to you.”

“Sorry boss, but in Uno, there are no promises! ;)”

“Please don't ever wink at me like that again.”

“Alright, let’s do this! I’ve never gotten to play Uno before!”

“Oh shit, really? They had a deck back in the Flipside y’know, you shoulda said something!”

“...They– what. And you didn’t even think to pass some time down there with a game!? You just kept going on about kebabs the whole time instead!”

“God, don’t remind me…”

“Okay, okay! Whatever! Let’s just start the game already. Jack, you’re up.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

The card to play off of was a green 2. After surveying his hand for a bit, he started to sweat. After a fair bit of consideration, he played a card.

“Bro, those don’t match.”

“Oh, sorry, wrong card.”

He tried again with a red Draw Two.

“Jack–”

“Nope, you’re right, I just, umm–”

“Jack, you haven’t… somehow forgotten how to play–”

“Of course not, Peter, you think I’d forget after all those games we played with Caroline? …Okay…” 

He laid down his Wild. 

“...

...Okay? Are y–”

“Hush, sir, I’m thinking.”

“It’s the first turn of the game, what is there to think about–”

“I don’t do well under pressure, Steven!” 

*sigh* 

“Sorry, take your time.”

Jack stared very closely at his hand. “...greeeen. Yeah, green.”

“...But it’s already gr–”

“Oh come on! It was 50/50 each– 

Okay, fine, I give up! I tried, but I’m just gonna sit this one out tonight.”

“Jack, what’s up with you, is everything alright?”

“Is it possible–look, I know you’re not a Shadow Doggo right now but– uh–”

“Oooh, I get it! He’s colorblind! Like a doggo!”

“Dave, I swear to God, you better not start being insufferable about this–”

“Oh, c’mon, Sportsy! Would I do that to you?”

“Yes, yes you would Dave.”

“You literally just called me Phone-face minutes ago.”

“Believe me, Steven, you’re not the only one.”

“Jeez, some friends you all are!”

“When I was just Blackjack, you wouldn’t stop treating me like a literal dog!”

“Oh, come on, we're bringin' this up again?! Old sport, you’re exaggerating! And you WERE a doggo in my defense!”

“I told you many times I wouldn’t ‘go fetch,' yet that never stopped you from throwing random stuff and getting all upset every damn time when you had to go get it yourself!”

Dee stifled some laughter.

“Well, ya shouldn’ta chosen to be a fuckin’ doggo then! That's just part of the contract!"

“Dear Lord, we haven’t even played the first card and we’re already fighting. That has to be some kind of record.”

“Alright, Peter, why don’t you just go instead? I– I’ll just watch…”

“A-Are you sure? We can, like, label all the card colors and redeal or something.”

“No. I’m too emotionally defeated right now… Go on without me…”

“O-Okay, if you insist–”

“Gee, Old Sport, no need to be so melan-collie!”

“Someone stop me, I’m gonna strangle him–”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It was getting intense. Dee and Peter had a fair number of cards, but Steven and Dave both had just one card left. It was Peter’s turn, and after, it would be Steven’s and then Dave’s. Steven was desperate to win just once tonight, but Dave was grinning like a smug bastard next to him.

(Please, just keep it yellow, Peter, I’m begging you.)

“Sorry, but not sorry, boss.” He had a Draw Four for just the occasion. 

“Blue.”

“FUUUCK YEEEAAAAH!” Dave stood up and slammed his last card a little too hard on the poor table.

“HHHHHHH– Y-YOU– YOU MOTHERFFF- H-H-HE-HEC–”

But Dave suddenly turned and grabbed Steven’s shoulders.

“No, Steven, SAY IT! I KNOW YOU’VE GOT IT IN YOU SOMEWHERE!”

“Dave, wh–”

“CALL ME A MOTHERFUCKER, STEVEN.”

“Dave, you’re being scary again–”

“Please, if not for yourself, then do it for me!”

Peter, Dee and Jack were silently transfixed on what was unfolding. Dee reached in for some of Jack's popcorn that he’d microwaved earlier.

“Well, I’m certainly not doing anything for YOU after that bullcrap!”

“It’s ‘BULLSHIT,’ Steven! 

...Dammit! And here I thought we had a breakthrough…”

“But look on the bright side, Dave!” She was still chewing popcorn. 

“He’s started using the Lord’s name in vain more lately, that’s still something!”

“Yeah, but he was so fuckin’ close! He got to ‘motherf–’! He got to the F, Dee!”

“Why are you creeps all so invested in my speech habits!?”

“Yeah, chill out guys, if you make him feel weird about it, he’ll never want to get better.”

“You’re not helping, Jack.” 

“C’mon, Phoney, just look at how far Peter’s come! He swears for just mild inconveniences now!”

“Leave me out of this, Dave…”

“You all can go HECK yourselves.”

[genderfluidgothwitch]

Bwuehehe. Writer questions 1, 15, 28, 32, and 46

1: What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting"

I use either Calibri or Ariel, depending. Basically any sans-serif font thats ADHD/Dyslexia friendly. Love reading/writing, hate when words don't stay put lol

15: Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

Good lord lmao.

I just recently started being okay with annotating anf highlighting books. I used to consider it sacrilegious to do so, and then I realized who the fuck cares? They're my books, and fuck it, if I'm gonna let someone else read it, they can have fun reading my thoughts while doing so lol. I do not dog ear, only because I have a tendency to either use scrap paper bookmarks, the fancy bookmarks I keep forgetting I own. I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading in the bath. Unfortunately my family hated when I would read in the bath for two hours. Something about there only being one bathroom for six people lol. I do not judge. Again, who the fuck cares lol. I will be friends with anyone, regardelss of how they treat books. Carry them around everywhere, hoard them on bookshelves, tear out pages, blend them into a smoothie, fuck if I care lol.

28: Who is the most delightful character you've ever written? Why?

Oh goodness, I don't know. I'll always have a special fondness for Cam and Maddie, but I think the most fun character to write has actually been Q Tomlin. They're a nonbinary genderfluid teen navigating high school, coming to terms with a lot of structural homophobia/transphobia, and also starring in a Shakespeare play!

32: What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic/etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

What, like in someone else's work?

I guess one of my favorite lines would be from a Dylan Thomas poem.

"Do not go gentle into that good night/ rage, rage against the dying of the light."

It's very much a line about not being complacent. I found it funnily enough in a trilogy I read as a teenager when I found the first book in my summer camp's lost and found. It was the last week of the year and we were encouraged to take things that weren't claimed, so of course I claimed the book lol. I've always been a bit of a rebellious thinker, so can you take a wild stab as to why I fell for that line?

40: Please share a poem with me, I need it.

See above poem, but also, here's one I wrote a while ago that I still can appreciate:

After Life

We walk across trails of light, endlessly winding through the night. A journey to the worlds beyond to find something that lets us bond and become something new, something true, something that we never knew we could be until we tried. Too many tears we have cried, and too many hearts were broken. All these words we left unspoken, a mark upon these hearts, torn apart, if only we had been so smart as to remember who we were together. Now we face the land of forever. Alone now, nowhere near close to that we fear, a different place to call home, our own. Draw me near, this place I roam. I want something as real as this, this glowing land of perpetual bliss. Let this be real, oh gracious god, for I can’t believe that I can trod upon these golden paths to salvation, in desperation, to something great, the blest creation of life in heaven. And now I know and can question how I came to deserve this afterlife, After all the pain and strife I have cause to others, to brothers, and those whose mothers names I cursed in frustration. Can I still receive re-creation of myself when I can’t be bothered to try to just be me?

We travel across these paths of light endlessly winding through the night. I guess I’ll never get it right. So let me fall, in ceaseless flight.

[cosmolog]

Imagine No Way Home ended with this scene.

Side Note: Y/n is a superhero who can teleport and slow down or even freeze time.

This imagine was literally me writing this while listening to this song and thinking, "every time I turn around you disappear" hmm, teleportation powers, she shall have!

Peter sat on a bench in a local park, the same park in which he helped Tony fight an alien from space. He remembers that moment with sadness. That was the start of his space journey, one which led to him blipping along with half the universe.

He remembers entering that afterlife place, seeing all those people freaking out at what had just occured. Until Strange had called up all the heroes and told them of the plan. The plan that led to the end of the war, and the end of Tony's life.

After that, Peter had gone back to being Spider-Man, though it ended in him making a fake friend and the betrayal of said friend.

Then all that led to Peter's identity being revealed to the entire world. Most people hated Peter for 'killing Mysterio', but only the people who truly believed in Spider-Man had the common sense to think, 'He wouldn't do such a thing. He's Spider-Man!'

And after visiting Strange about it, all went to shit. Spider-Men and their villains from different universes started leaking into Peter's universe.

So in order to set things right, Peter told Strange to make everyone forget he existed. Which worked a treat after some lovey dovey stuff.

So now, nobody knew who Peter was. He had tried and failed to tell his friends what happened, he didn't want to ruin their lives all over again.

Anyways. Present day.

As Peter sat, his eyes drifting between all the people around him. Some kids were playing with their dog, their mother keeping a watchful eye on them, a man was reading the New York Times, a woman doing a photoshoot with a guy behind the camera, the clicks of each shot rang through Peter's ears.

Suddenly, he felt another person sit down beside him, on the other end of the bench. "So this is what you're going to do all day" The girl, around Peter's age, spoke, also looking around the place.

Peter glanced at her. "Sorry, uh. Are you talking to me?" He asked, not seeing a phone to her ear.

She smiled, meeting his gaze. "I sure am" She replied.

"What do you mean by saying this is what I've been doing all day?" He asked. "I don't even know who you are"

"Apologies, Mr. Parker. I'm bad at communicating with fellow people. I'm Y/n L/n" She answered.

"How- How do you know me. Strange casted a spell, you're not meant to know me" Peter rushed, beginning to freak out.

"Did I forget to mention I'm not exactly human?" She asked, mentally kicking herself. "I'm sort of a superhero...? I don't know what else to call it. I can teleport and freeze time meaning my body can rip itself apart only to be put back together every time I teleport" She teleported all the way to the edge of the park, where Peter could spot her waving, before teleporting back to where she originally sat.

"Does it hurt?" Peter asked.

"No...Not really" She replied. "I got these....abilities when I touched a blue box. Which was I don't know how many years ago" She replied, crossing one leg over the other. "I was pretty stupid back then"

"We could've used you in the fight against Thanos, your skills would've come in handy" Peter said. "Why didn't you help?"

"Because I didn't even know there was a fight. You were on another planet. Plus, I don't want to be a superhero like you or have responsibilities like Steve Rogers" She said. "I just want my powers to be something I can use if I ever need to get away from danger or get others out of danger"

Peter paused for a moment. "How come Mr.Stark or Nick Fury didn't find you?" He asked.

"Have a good think about that one, Peter. Teleportation is very handy if nobody else can move as fast as you" She chuckled. "Nick Fury did find me once, he tried to make me join the Avengers and I wanted no part in that, even if they offered me all that money. I don't like feeling like people own me. I don't like being used as a human shield" She said.

"Okay, I see where you're coming from but I don't do it for the paycheck, heck, I don't get payed at all now. Being Spider-Man is great, I get to do my part ensuring the safety of everyone in New York and the World. And when I'm me, I get to hang out with my friends and go through normal life things like having a girlfriend. Well, at least I had a girlfriend and a life. But it's just Spider-Man, he's all I can be now. Everyday I wake up, and it's Spider-Man who goes about his day. I feel like Peter Parker stopped existing the moment I put on that suit for the first time" Peter ranted.

Y/n nodded in understanding. "Well...I remember you. So Peter Parker does exist, I'm living evidence of that. And I believe in you, always have always will"

"How do you know me?" Peter asked, titling his head slightly.

She shrugged. "This is gonna sound weird but I've seen you before, first in my dreams, then at school. And the thing is, my memory is so incredibly enhanced thanks to the tesseract, that not even a spell from the former Sorcerer Supreme could tamper with my head. It's very interesting, most of the stuff I know now, I just know because of that blue stone. I know everything there is to know about the universe. I can go anywhere I want. So you could say the stone protected me. Well, some of it, the rest is destroyed"

Peter huffed. "Huh" He muttered.

She suddenly sat up, leaning towards him, a smile on her face. "So, do you wanna catch some bad guys?" She asked.

[tarmac-rat]

2 9 12 14 for the oc ask for ms Riley :D

Lt. Mower: What is the worst betrayal your OC has faced?

Uhhhhhhhh the Dex one is probably ranked up there as the highest, mostly because Riley deep down always knew it was a possibility-- she saw the writing on the wall regarding Dex's 'vacation' and comeback, she knew there was something rotten hidden under all that glitz and promises-- but after Jackie died, she completely let her guard down because of the shellshock. The reason it was such a bad betrayal is not because she trusted Dex but because in her eyes it was so goddamn obvious in hindsight, and if she was on her game he likely would've had a harder time getting the jump on her. Grief-process part of it aside, there is a reason she spends a lot of time going after him after the Relic zaps her back to life; you do NOT get to fuck her over and get away with it

Letter of the Law: How does your OC feel about corps? Hatred, necessary evil, etc.

Growing up in the Badlands where the corps treated nomad clans warily and mostly gave them a wide berth, she viewed them kinda like prey, in a sense-- never really gave them much further thought beyond what the convoys that ran through their routes were carrying, which was likely partly due to a youthful naïveté that didn't comprehend the full scope of the world by that point. In Night City where corpos are top dog, Riley very much has a "you don't fuck with me and I don't fuck with you" attitude towards them. She doesn't like them, but while she certainly's not going to go out of her way to sock a corpo-rat on the jaw, she's certainly not afraid to; it's more a matter of her deciding when she wants to pick her battles.

Phantom of Night City: What does your OC believe about death and what comes after?

Riley doesn't believe in life after death. When you die you die, that's it, and it's up to the living to keep your memory alive. No God and no afterlife is waiting, and she certainly doesn't really believe in higher powers. She toys with the idea that she'll go to hell when she eventually does die, but it's more a joke or a form of self-deprecation than something she actually believes will happen to her.

Second Chances: Does your OC follow any belief system? Do they have any spiritual beliefs about the world?

Riley 100% believes in the cycle of karma and that no deed goes unpunished. She doesn't believe in the concept of 'the universe' as strongly as someone like, say, Misty, but she does subscribe to the idea that the world will find a way to balance out the good that happens in your life with the bad and vice versa. It's about the closest thing to a belief system she follows outside of her own moral code, and she eventually comes to the conclusion that sometimes the karma cycle needs...uh.......a little push from time to time.

[tryst-art-archive]

Before I put the dA descript, allow me to add the context that "Shout It Out" was an art meme that went around dA in late '07. The idea was to make vent art where you got the things you don't usually say out of your system, using a particular format.

To summarize: When I tried to do the Shout It Out meme, I short-circuited. I sat on this thing for months (which is evidenced in the archive, too) because I couldn't decide about putting the things I wanted to shout into the piece.

I remember I filled several pages of a large sketchbook with things to write into the piece. I haven't looked at it in a few years, but I remember the last time I did, it was pretty triggering stuff. It was very raw, and I was in a lot of (emotional) pain when I wrote it.

The choice to post this as a loud silence was very deliberate, although obviously I waffled about it. Whatever I may say in the description, the loud silence was supposed to be emblematic of how much I felt I couldn't say, for fear of upsetting the people around me or because I inevitably wouldn't be understood. In some cases, it was a physical inability. There have been many times when I've tried to express something vulnerable only to have my throat physically close up and prevent me from doing so.

I'm not going to look for the sketchbook write-up of what was supposed to be here, but I do have some of the notes digitized. A selection of those are below the cut.

But this is the most important one: "I almost wish I had been born a gay man; I don't know why."

"I HATE SCHOOL but I'm an HONORS STUDENT so I'll go to college anyway."

"I HATE MYSELF and have for a long time."

"I MAKE UP EXCUSES and BLAME OTHERS for my FAILURES and SHORTCOMINGS because I can't bear to shoulder the responsibility myself."

"I am FUCKING HORNY all the FUCKING TIME."

"I fear abandonment."

"I GAVE UP on art for the same reason I QUIT gymnastics and swimming when I was LITTLE; IT STOPPED COMING EASILY TO ME."

"I FEEL GUILTY about being UNHAPPY."

"I NEVER LOVED another person UNTIL I MET MARE; that's why she's my best friend."

"The PLAY Pippin SCARES ME BECAUSE IT DESCRIBES ME."

"I am convinced that I'm the only person who feels as I do despite all evidence to the contrary."

"I LIKE MEN, but I feel like no one knows it."

"I AM AFRAID TO POST THIS; I AM AFRAID TO WRITE IT DOWN. For every one thing I say, I have left 3 things unsaid."

"No one can "read" me. I put on so many acts and masks that I am not sure who I am or when I'm really being sincere."

"I am self-conscious about everything; I fear being disliked."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY 'NO,' and I KNOW that it will get me in trouble one day."

"I can't draw or write anything pornographic because it embarrasses me."

"I AM INSECURE, but nobody seems to know it."

"I WANT TO LOVE SOMEONE ENOUGH TO LIVE FOR THEM; Dying would be too easy."

"I AM EASILY OVERRIDDEN; I AM A DOG ON A LEASH"

"KNOW THAT WHEN I PROTEST, I AM FIGHTING MYSELF TO DO SO."

"PLEASE KNOW WHAT I WANT AND NEED because I cannot make myself say even if it's something as simple as a glass of water."

"I think that I will be a terrible mother. I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE A DAUGHTER."

"LET ME SLEEP UNTIL WE GET TO THE GOOD PARTS!"

"I MAKE THINGS HARD FOR MYSELF and I don't know why."

"I REFUSE TO LET PEOPLE SEE ME cry."

"I want you to think 'There is a girl who truly hurts, but, oh, see how she triumphs despite!' in admiration."

"I don't know what I'm going to do next year"

"I feel OUT OF PLACE with other people; that's why I'm antisocial."

"I DO NOT BELIEVE IN AN AFTERLIFE AND I NEVER HAVE not even when I was small."

"LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SPEAK, GODDAMIT!"

"I wish I were OMNISCIENT."

"I REGRET almost everything."

"I DON'T EXPECT TO EVER BE HAPPY, I ONLY HOPE I WILL BE."

"I LOVE VIDEOGAMES AND WISH TO BE RECOGNIZED FOR IT."

"I fear blindness, deafness, old age, balding, and becoming ugly. I fear forgetting."

"I almost wish I had been born a gay man; I don't know why."

"I like girly, pretty shoes. I never buy any because I know I'll wear them all of once if I ever wear them at all."

"I like songs that RELEASE ME."

"I have trouble expressing myself."

"I miss my childhood, but I also realize that I've romanticized it in my head."

"I believe people are basically rotten at heart."

"I HAVE DOUBLE STANDARDS."

"Without people to say 'It's time for dinner,' I probably wouldn't eat just out of laziness."

"I'm afraid that I'm annoying."

"I’M SHY. I don’t do half the shit I want to.I’M A GOOD GIRL. I don’t do half the shit I want to.I’M A GOOD LIAR. So I get away with doing the half that I do do."

"iBottle."

"NO MATTER WHERE I GO, I FEEL LIKE I DON'T BELONG."

"I'm afraid to say 'I wish...' because I'm worried that my wish will come true."