#an inquiry into the afterlife

[bedcorpse]

knowing that harrison ford willingly made raw-dogging jokes at his character's expense (he didn't know what it meant and kept using it as a running gag on shrinking) pspspspsps harrison you wanna play my chaotic old man ghost soooooo bad

#emma shut up #an inquiry into the afterlife #come play leighton my oc who i rotate in my brain like a rotisserie chicken

[hypewinter]

Danny was helping in processing new ghosts for the afterlife when he came across a young man. Considering the costume it was obvious that he was a hero who had died saving the world. After inquiry, the young man explained that he had died because he couldn't keep up with the speed of his relatives but he would do it all again. Even if it meant leaving his friends and girlfriend behind. The sadness of the situation weighed on Danny too much so he decided to bend the rules a little just this once. After all, what was the point of being High King of the Infinite Realms if he couldn't overstep the regulations on occasion. Besides, if it were really so bad, Clockwork would probably pop in to warn him.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #hyper prompts #danny's a sucker for a good sob story #and boy does wally deliver #'died before you could marry the love of your life? AFTER you were unwillingly pulled out of retirement!?' #'no sir we can't have that'

[daydreaming-away-reality]

One Step Back

Jack Frost x Reader | ☁️ + ☔ + 🌠 | 7.7k | Grim Reaper!Reader

Warning: mentions of death, lots of angst

You quietly sat there, staring at the chess pieces deep in thought. The occasional breeze caused the slight creaking noises from the metal décor in the dimly lit space.

Something about the silence brought you a sense of a comfort. Compared to the cries of despair that had recently filled your ears, sitting in front of a very slow strategy game was something you preferred.

“Going to just stare at the pieces all day?”

The deep voice caused you to look up at the yellow coloured eyes that pierced into your own (E/C) eyes, you merely shrugged.

“Perhaps.”

“Not all of us have time to spare,” he responded.

“Time is irrelevant when you’re immortal,” you commented. You rested your chin on your palm as you looked straight into his eyes. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have the time.”

Pitch let out a hum of acknowledgement but made no further comment. As your chess partner, you knew he had grown use to your slow pacing. What you lacked in speed made up for in strategy though - it was enough to keep you and Pitch to play chess ever since the two of you had met. 

Sliding a piece across the board, you let out your breath as you leaned back in your chair. 

“Good game,” you softly said.

Pitch frowned as he leaned forward to check your move. As the results dawned on him, he gave a small nod.

“Good game,” he echoed.

The King of Nightmares turned his attention to you, looking at you as if he were trying to figure something out. 

“Something on your mind?”

Your constant poker face was a difficult expression to read, but somehow Pitch had a way of telling when there was something on your mind. As a grim reaper, your life was pretty monotonous. You learn about the next soul put under your care and you bring them to the afterlife when the time comes. When that was done, the cycle would repeat itself.

From serial killers to the rare newborn infant, you had seen souls at every stage of their life leave this world. 

You lived your life among humans, even though you had not been human for the past couple hundred years. Many people who lived around you didn’t see you unless you chose to be seen, letting you live your peaceful life of solitude easier. 

After having this role for so many years, you thought that things would get easier. To live with humans, watch them experience grief and pain.

From the few social gatherings with other grim reapers you had attended, you had soon realized you were softer than the others. Your job records were beautiful, but something always stuck with you.

It wasn’t easy experiencing death all the time.

It never got easier.

While this was a common experience for many new grim reapers that would eventually be accustomed, you still found yourself struggling sometimes.

“You’re too kind, (Y/N). All we need to do is make sure their soul moves on. We’re not doing anything bad.”

Even though all of that was true, the fear in the eyes of some people you were assigned to made you wonder how terrifying you were. What you resembled clearly brought a myriad of emotions, but fear was the most common one. 

“Nothing new,” you finally replied. 

Pitch gave you a look of inquiry but didn’t push any further.

He stood up, walking over to the globe in his lair. Little lights glittered across the world, showing the children of the world who believed in the Guardians.

“If the balance of the world were to change, would you be on my side?” Pitch asked.

Tilting your head, you let his words simmer in your head. 

You had never met any of the Guardians, but you recognized their role in the world. From knowing Pitch, you also knew he had a role to play in the world as well. While some saw fear as a bad thing, you recognized that some people grew stronger from their fears. Not everyone, but some rare cases.

Having heard about the last time Pitch had challenged the Guardians and failed, you knew there was bad blood between the Guardians and the Boogeyman.

If you had a to pick a side though...

You knew your role was one that would be forever bound to your duties. Wars could be fought and whatever decision you made would be insignificant.

“Death takes no sides, Pitch,” you answered with resolve. “So, I would not choose a side either.”

“Is that so?”

Even though he didn’t turn around to look at you, you gave him an uncertain small nod. Some things were inevitable, whether you desired so or not.

Sitting down on your couch and peering out the window with a warm cup of tea in your hand, you watched the rain pour down from the sky. Snuggled into your blankets, you listened to the pattering of raindrops against the glass.

Today was one of those dreary days - one that brought out sad emotions among people. The kind of day that had people mourning their lost ones.

Luckily for you, you had the day off. Or at least, you thought you could afford the day off. 

A letter appeared on the coffee table before you brought a sigh to your lips.

Setting your cup down, you lifted the letter up carefully and checked the name. 

Amber Miller.

Carefully inscribed under the name were the date of when they were born and the death.

Noting the death date, you paused. Doing some quick calculations, you realized that Amber was still young - a child. A frown appeared on your face as you stared at the simple card. 

Most of the time, you received names of those who experienced life longer than this. Chewing on your lip, you wondered if it was a good idea to go check in on this young girl now. Usually you appeared a few days before their death to see if you should make contact with the person, but with younger ones... You tried to spend more time with them so they wouldn’t be scared when time came for them.

When your eyes flickered back to the world outside your window, you noticed the rain had become little snowflakes dancing their way around the sky. 

Weather permitting or not, perhaps it would be good to step out of your house to do a check in. Amber had a week to live.

Pulling on your closet open, you stared at the various dark coloured pieces of clothing staring back at you. Like other grim reapers, your clothing mostly consisted of black, to be respectful to the dead, to not draw attention to yourself and follow the policies in place for grim reapers.

Slipping into a simple black knit sweater and skirt, you made yourself presentable. Finishing off the look with some boots, you grabbed a jacket just in case. Having gone through the process of getting ready to meet your next assignment so many times before, you weren’t too concerned.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom door and walked out of the bus shelter. The power to transport yourself through doors was one that all grim reapers had. No one around you noticed you, making everything go smoothly.

Following your instincts, you walked towards the nearby hospital. Walking past the receptionists and other patients, you immediately recognized the young brunette who was pressed up against the glass staring at the snow in awe.

Something about her soul seemed familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why. 

She was dressed in the typical patient attire with a paper wristband on, confirming your suspicions around why you were here. Amber was sick.

Walking over until you were standing next to her, you turned to watch the snow with her.

“I wish I could go outside and feel the snow,” she commented.

With no one else around, you decided to check your suspicions. 

“Would you like to step outside with me for a bit?” you asked quietly.

Amber’s brown eyes looked up at you with excitement. “Really?”

You nodded, offering your hand out to her. “Really, we’ll only be out for a moment, so nobody will even notice we’re gone.”

The enthusiastic nod and hand now in yours confirmed things. She could see you. While most grim reapers didn’t like showing themselves before it was time, the fear of growing emotional attachments was common, you made the effort.

“I’m Amber. What’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

Walking down a quieter hallway, you lead the two of you towards the small outdoor space on the side of this hospital wing. No one would step out in this weather, so it’d make it easier for the two of you. Taking Amber outside, you shrugged off your jacket and slipped it around her shoulders the moment you two were outside.

“Will you be cold?” she asked, eyes wide as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

You shook your head. “I’ll be okay.”

The oversized jacket on her made you smile as she excitedly tried to catch snowflakes on her tongue. The sight of someone who was still so hopeful towards life, you could feel a deep sense of sadness within you. As you looked up at the sky, the sound of another voice surprised you.

“You don’t look dressed for the winter weather.”

Attention immediately moving towards the source, you found yourself staring at a boy with beautiful blue eyes and silvery white hair. An amused quirk of a smile graced his lips as he held onto a wooden staff in his hands.

“Jack!” Amber excitedly called out as she threw herself his way. “You made it snow!”

“Ahaha, I did. I’m glad you have the chance to step outside to see it today.” Jack responded, ruffling her hair.

Your brain raced to figure out an explanation for what was happening. Amber called this newcomer Jack and associated him with the snow. Somehow this sounded familiar. As your brain tried to make a connection between the information you just received with what you knew, Jack turned his attention to you once more.

He looked you over, taking in your black attire. 

“Who this with you, Amber?”

You straightened up. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you can see me,” Jack said with a surprised tone. He held out his hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You hesitated but shook his hand.

Sensing something happening inside the hospital, you pushed the door back open. “I think we should head back inside, Amber. Make sure no one noticed us sneaking away.”

“Oh, okay!” The brunette jumped up and hurried to your side. She turned around to wave at Jack. “Bye Jack!”

You looked at Jack once more, information finally clicking in place.

Jack Frost - the Guardian of Fun. 

Ducking your head, you let the door shut behind you before escorting Amber back to her room. The energetic girl was about to pull off your jacket, but you stopped her.

“Keep it,” you encouraged. “It looks better on you than it does on me.”

“Thank you!” she responded gleefully. As she sat down on her bed, she looked up at you.

“Is there anything you want to do this week, Amber?” you asked, sitting down next to her.

The young girl thought about your words and responded with a small shrug.

“I’m not sure.” Her honest words brought a small smile to your face. “Will I see you again, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “I’ll come by and visit again tomorrow, how does that sound?”

Amber nodded. “Okay.”

Getting up, you gently pet her head. “Be a good girl for the nurses, okay?”

“I always am!”

You smiled. Slipping out of the room, you glanced back once before moving to leave the hospital.

As you stepped out of the hospital, you weren’t paying attention to the person rushing towards the doors and didn’t have any time to react. Shutting your eyes, you felt a breeze as they ran through you.

It was moments like these when you were reminded of your place in the world.

Not alive but living as if you were.

Just as you walked away from the hospital, a cool breeze ruffled your hair and someone fell into step beside you.

“So you’re a spirit as well,” Jack commented.

You looked at him. “Is... there something I can help you with?”

Surprised by your question, Jack shook his head.

“No, it’s just, we haven’t met before and I was curious about you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to face him. Eyes shifting to meet his, you could see the confusion on his face.

“I’m a grim reaper.”

This new information startled him. 

Walking away, you spotted the same bus shelter and headed towards it. Having met Amber now, you had a lot on your thoughts and wanted to go home. It took a moment, but you heard Jack hurrying to catch up to you.

“Really?”

“Most people don’t want to interact with me when they know that,” you said, stopping by the bus shelter door.

“Well, you’re the first grim reaper I’ve met,” Jack responded. He paused and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Amber... there’s a reason you’re visiting her, isn’t there?”

You nodded. 

Hoping to end the conversation there, you pulled open the bus shelter door and stepped through. 

“Wait - !”

As you appeared back in your own house, Jack appeared from behind, coming through the same door you had.

The surprise the two of you shared came from very different reasons. 

You had no idea anyone could follow you through the doors. Meanwhile, Jack had no idea where you had transported the two of you to. 

“Where are we...?” Jack asked, speaking up first.

“Home. My home,” you clarified as you pulled your boots off and put them aside. Letting out a sigh, you sat down on your couch before deciding to address Jack. “Amber has one week left - I don’t plan on taking her until her time ends.”

“Why did you visit her today then?” Jack moved to sit on the armchair perpendicular to you. His tone was genuine - encouraging you to speak.

You curled up, wrapping your arms around your legs. Trying to make yourself smaller, you tried your best to pull your words together. “Life’s... not fair and death doesn’t discriminate. She’s so young... I want to make sure her last days go well at least.”

There was a blanket of silence that fell over you two. As Jack took in your words, you blankly stared at the envelope that rested on your coffee table. With how many letters you had received over the years, you had lost track of how many cases you had dealt with. 

“Maybe I can help?”

Jack’s offer caused you to look up. 

“I’m not sure what I can do, but I want to try to help,” Jack elaborated. 

“That’s nice of you, but... are you sure?” You could tell he had good intentions behind his words but you knew the choice he was making was one with difficulties that he wouldn’t realize until the pain weighed down on him. 

You were too familiar with that feeling to wish it upon anyone.

Death took a toll not only on the person who experienced it, but everyone around them as well. 

The confused look on Jack’s face indicated that he didn’t know about these effects.

“Losing someone isn’t easy,” you explained. “Do you really want to put yourself through that kind of pain?”

Your words seemed to reach him in some way as Jack’s shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground. His silence filled the air, and you didn’t know what to do or say. 

“I know, I’ve lost people in my life before,” Jack softly responded, his words coming out slowly as he formulated his thoughts. You could tell what he experienced weighed down on him. 

It made you wonder if he had what it took to be grim reaper.

Honestly, you weren’t sure you were cut out for this line of work either. Yet here you were, a couple hundred years in and still going with no end in sight. 

“If I can do something about it and make a difference, I think it’s worth the pain.” 

His optimistic answer had you turning your gaze back outside to watching the snow fall outside the window.

“If that’s what you wish, I cannot stop you.”

“I look forward to working with you then, (Y/N).”

When you had tried to sleep that night, the sound of crying from your past kept you up.

“Time to go,” you softly urged the crying soul. 

They looked up at you, tears still streaming down their face. In the brief moments of realizing their own death, they still carried the burdens of life they experienced.

“There were still things I wanted to do. It isn’t fair,” they wailed. “Can’t I.... Can’t you do anything about it?”

Regrets. 

Almost every soul had them.

You waited. It was difficult to communicate with anyone when they were this emotional. Once the crying had been reduced to sniffles, you finally responded.

You shook your head, looking over at the unfortunate accident that left them lifeless. “You are no longer part of this world, don’t worry about things like that.”

“A little more time... I wish I had a little more time to do the things I wanted to do...”

The clear skies above held promise of a good day ahead. You stifled back a yawn as you made your way to the hospital. Restless nights were common but it never affected your work.

Once you arrived, you paused by the reception. When the receptionist looked up, their eyes met yours.

“I’m here to visit Amber Miller,” you said. “I’ll be taking her out a bit.”

"Alright,” the receptionist spoke in a trance. There was a cloudy look to their eyes. 

When you turned away, you could hear them resuming to their work as if the encounter between the two of you never happened. 

Walking into Amber’s room, you could see her face light up when she saw you.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Amber,” you greeted. “You ready to go?”

She bobbed her head enthusiastically. After you reminded her to dress for the weather, she quickly bundled up before standing in front of you. 

Taking her hand, the two of you walked through the hallways unnoticed and made your way outside.

A figure showed up with a chilly gust before the two of you.

“Jack!” Amber exclaimed.

“Sorry for running late,” Jack said with a smile. His blue eyes flickered over to yours, trying to get a read of your placid expression but unable to do so. He turned back to Amber. “The snow is perfect for building snowmen, you up for it?”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s go then.” You acknowledged Jack. With him leading the way, your (E/C) eyes wandered back, noticing another grim reaper leading a soul away. 

Hospitals were always a busy place for grim reapers. 

“Here we are!” Jack cheered as you all arrived an untouched patch of snow. “The perfect spot, if I do say so myself.”

“(Y/N),” Amber said with a tug on your hand. “Can you help me build a snow bear?”

“A snow bear?” you asked, a smile on your face. “It’s been a while since I’ve built anything in the snow, but sure!”

“Yay! Let’s build a super big one! You and Jack are in charge of the head then.”

You exchanged a look with Jack as Amber scurried off to start her snowball. 

“You heard her,” you said, tilting your head at Amber. Pulling out gloves from your pocket, you slipped them on. “I’m going to need your expert help if we’re going to make this the best snow bear.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” 

After letting Jack start off the snowball (he had made the bold claim that yours wasn’t good enough and that was thrown at him with a feigned cry of offense), the two of you worked together in creating a head for Amber’s snow bear.

With a lot of playing in the snow between you, Jack and Amber, the day passed by quickly. Letting Jack do the heavy lifting, the snow bear was nearing its completion. 

Watching Amber giddily bounce around the two of you, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“We’re still missing the face,” you commented.

“I got it!” Amber exclaimed, holding out some rocks. 

You crouched down and held your arms out to Amber. Her eyes lit up when she realized what you were offering. Moving into your arms, you lifted her up so she could have a better reach of adding the face to her snow bear. 

As she added the final touches, your (E/C) eyes met a pair of blue ones. Jack had moved to stand next to you without you noticing. While it had not startled, you were suddenly aware of how things were feeling like an intimate family moment.

“Ta-da!” Amber cheered as she put on the final rock.

You and Jack let out some cheers as well. Considering the fact that you had never made a snow bear before, this one was pretty cute. 

“Looks amazing.” Jack commented.

You nodded in agreement. “It does. Great work, Amber.”

Amber turned so she could look at the two of you. “Thanks for helping!”

“Nah, you did most of the work,” Jack modestly said.

Noticing rosy cheeks, you bopped Amber’s nose. “You look like you’re getting cold.” Before the girl could protest, you offered her a smile. “Shall we grab some hot cocoa and head back?”

Your proposition immediately brought a bright smile to her face.

It was moments like these that you weren’t sure whether or not that you should be happy or sad. 

Almost as if he sensed your uncertainty, Jack clapped his hands. 

“Let’s go.”

“(Y/N)! Jack!” 

Amber’s delighted cheer greeted the two of you as you arrived the next day. 

“Hi Amber,” you greeted. 

“Hey,” Jack chimed in.

Amber climbed out of her bed and gave you both a bright smile. “Are we going to do something fun again today?”

You nodded. “Can you go get ready? There’s somewhere cool that I want to show you today.”

She excitedly nodded and hurried around the room to get ready. 

Meanwhile, you turned to look at the winter spirit standing next to you.

“Did you know I was coming now?” you teasingly asked Jack. “I don’t remember telling you when I was coming by again today.”

Jack gave you a charming smile. “I had a feeling. Looks like I was right though.”

He took the time to look around the room, but he found himself watching you in the end. Adorned in all black again, Jack still thought that there was certain aura about you that made you less scary and more caring. He wouldn’t have pinned you as a grim reaper with your personality. 

“What are the plans for today?” Jack asked, lowering his voice so Amber wouldn’t hear.

You pretended to zip your lips. 

“Aw, no hint at all?”

You laughed. “I can give you one hint.” 

Walking over to Amber’s bed, you straightened up a few of her animal plushies and gave a pointed look to Jack.

“That’s all you’re getting.”

Jack made a face at you. “You’re terrible at giving hints. That could mean so many things.”

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m ready!” Amber called out, pulling on an oversized black jacket. 

“Let’s go then,” you said. 

As you went to open the door and lead your trio out on a trip, Jack took a moment to chat with Amber. 

“The jacket looks a little big on you,” he commented.

Amber nodded. “It’s from (Y/N)! She let me have it.”

Jack let out a hum of understanding as he walked beside Amber towards the door. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of appreciation towards you, even if he wasn’t the one who was receiving the kindness from you. 

You were someone special, Jack could feel it.

Once you all went through the door, Amber let out a squeal when she realized where you all had been transported to. There were animals and families everywhere, the air filled with chatter of all the living beings. 

“I know you like animals, so I brought you to a petting zoo,” you explained to Amber. Your (E/C) eyes noticed the bright smile on Jack’s face as well. Looks like the Guardian of Fun approved of this trip. “Ready to meet some animals?”

Amber clapped her hands happily. “Ready!”  

Taking the time to see all the animals, you heard Jack chuckle when you guys approached the bunny enclosure. When he noticed your curious gaze, Jack smiled.

“They remind me of a certain spirit I know,” he explained.

“The Easter Bunny?” you guessed.

“Yeah, although, he seems more kangaroo than bunny sometimes.”

You giggled at his comment. “I would love to see him one day.”

“You’ve never seen him?” Jack asked, surprised.

“You don’t get to meet many other spirits in my line of work.”

“Ah.”

You waved your hand to brush off his comment. Sometimes, as much as you felt alive and hopeful, deep down you knew that being a grim reaper was part of who you were now. Getting to spend time like this with others and Jack... you would cherish this. 

After you dropped Amber back off at the hospital and had her settled back down, you and Jack lingered around for a bit. Amber had been so happy today, it was hard to believe that this little girl only had a numbered amount of days left to live. 

You turned to Jack to say something, but the sound of approaching voices made you stop. You thought about leaving, but something kept you in place. One of the voices belonged to Amber’s nurse. The others... sounds familiar.

“She’s been fine lately.”

“Is there a chance her condition will improve?”

“The chance of that happening is rare - young patients like her in our long term care unit with her conditions...”

You completely tuned out the nurse when the sight of a tired looking couple walked towards you and Jack. Looking at the couple intensely, you then turned back to catch a glimpse of Amber. 

That feeling from before. 

The familiarity of Amber’s soul.

Everything seems to click for you when you saw her parents. You’ve seen them before.

“(Y/N)?” Jack called out to you as you stepped back in almost a retreating manner.

“I...” 

The memory of a blank letter page held in your hands brought you a sense of uncertainty.

“I should go,” you decided. “Thank you for spending the time with me and Amber today, Jack.”

With that, you turned and disappeared through a door before the Guardian of Fun could do anything to decipher your stranger behaviour.

When you got back home, a memory from a few years ago vividly resurfaced. 

Having just finished delivering one soul, you had found another letter waiting for you to deal with. Work had been relentless for you for the last few days. While there was always work to do, this week in particular had been non stop work.

After glancing at the name in the letter, you turned back around to deal with the soul left in your care. 

They were expected to leave today. 

Finding yourself in the hospital, you let out a sigh as you looked around. Your eyes paused as you looked at the couple, presumably the parents of the soul you were here to take. They sat outside the operation room and looked anxious. 

Understandable. 

You moved on, moving closer to the operation room. Sounds of the doctors and nurses working relentlessly, trying their best to help the young girl in the room reached your ears. You could sense her soul hanging onto life.

Human life in situations like this always felt so fragile.

The heartbeat monitor let out a shrill noise and the energy in the room grew frantic. Although you were supposed to get ready to seek out the soul you were here for, something felt off. 

There was an unshakable feeling that something wasn’t right. 

Pulling out the letter, you checked it once more.

Only to find the page blank.

Your (E/C) eyes narrowed as you flipped the page over to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

Still blank.

Listening carefully once more, you could hear the regular beeping of the heartbeat monitor again. 

A miracle. 

It was extremely rare, but sometimes the letters were wrong if something miraculous happened and the soul was not ready to leave. 

This meant more paperwork for you to do, but the girl would live for now.

Turning away from the operation room, you left.

The girl that you had originally meant take a few years ago.

Fate had you back again for your unfinished work.

You took a few hours to let yourself process the new found information and rest but then pushed yourself to get back to it.

If Amber only had a limited amount of time, you wanted to have her spend days well. Seeing her again the next day without Jack, you had brought her to the hospital cafeteria and let her enjoy her favourite foods.

Perhaps it was because of your strange visiting hours, but you tried not to bump into Jack. Sure, he was understanding the first time you when you explained your line of work to him. But what if he found out that you were here a second time for this young girl? What would he think then? Would he still want to hang around you? He would probably be like everyone else and believe that you were the indirect cause to her death.

Regardless, from what you heard from Amber, Jack still made the time to visit despite you not being there.

It only took another day or two before you started noticing the signs of fear and worry from Amber.

“(Y/N)?” Amber called out to you as the two of you sat by the window in her room. You turned to look at her, watching her wide eyes stare at you as she clutched her stuffed toy tightly. “I’m scared.”

“What’s scaring you?” you asked quietly. 

“Mommy and daddy seemed worried... a lot more than usual.” The sadness in the young girl’s voice broke your heart. “They keep talking to the nurses and doctors... I think they know something about me that’s making them sad.”

You let her words sink in as you tried to find the right words to say to comfort her.

“Adults are always worried about things. Amber, it’s okay to feel the way you feel, but I hope you remember that you can also make your parents the happiest.”

Later that night, Amber had fallen asleep listening to a story you were telling her. As you stood nearby watching her sleep, you couldn’t believe how fast time was moving by. 

There wasn’t much time left now.

It was like an unspoken truth that everyone including Amber seemed to know.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

The deep voice startled you. 

Coming out from the shadows of the room was Pitch, his eyes gleaming on the little light that came from the night light in the room. 

“Pitch,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed fear,” Pitch responded, moving closer to the bed. He looked at Amber, then his eyes flickered back to you. “I’m sure you sense it too.”

You nodded. Pitch knew your profession, he would know exactly why you were here. 

Although the two of you had not played chess in a while due to his choice in actions, the strange relationship between the two of you still existed. Neither of you would cease to exist as you were both immortal.

“Her nightmares would be powerful,” Pitch commented.

You immediately frowned and defensively moved towards him. “No.”

“Do you intend to stop me?” 

“For her, I’d do anything to stop you right now.”

Pitch stepped back, then took a few steps around the room. “I thought you said you wouldn’t take sides.” He moved closer to you, fingers touching your chin and tilting your head back to stare into your (E/C) eyes. “What is happening now, little miss grim reaper?”

The door to the room opened slightly and someone slipped in. 

Turning to see who it was, you immediately froze.

“Pitch! And... (Y/N)?”

Jack looked at the two of you with a mix of emotions. It was clear enough that he was in disbelief though.

“Ah, the Guardian of Fun,” snarled Pitch. “Did you come here to play?”

Hearing this, Jack immediately raised his staff and pointed it at Pitch. It wavered though, when he realized how close to Pitch you were.

Regardless, it didn’t stop the rough tone of his voice when he directed his words to you.

“(Y/N), you know Pitch?”

“Know me? Of course she does,” Pitch responded. “We’ve known each other for hundreds of years.”

Jack’s eyes questioned you, waiting for your response. 

You didn’t want to lie, but the truth was probably one he didn’t want to hear.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” you acknowledged. 

Betrayal flickered on Jack’s face and Pitch seemed to notice that. 

“Ah, I see you must of have met (Y/N) just recently,” Pitch commented. He moved towards Jack despite the staff being point his way. “Death and fear, what a combination, am I right?”

“Leave. Now.” Jack demanded.

The sound of frost crackling on the windows seemed to remind Pitch that he wasn’t as strong as the Guardian before him. His yellow eyes met yours and he could tell that he had no advantage here. 

Wordlessly, he disappeared back into the shadows, leaving you and Jack behind.

“Jack - “

“You should leave too,” Jack coldly said. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

His words hurt. But you knew that now wasn’t the time to explain yourself. The enemy he had fought a few years ago with a girl he met only days ago who was a grim reaper. Even you knew it was a strange sight. You didn’t owe Jack any explanation, but you wanted to explain things to him later on. 

Ducking your head, you moved around him towards the door. 

“She only has two days left,” you said as you reached the door. “I will be back, whether you like it or not. I have a job to do.”

With that, you opened the door and went through.

Amber’s condition was getting worse. 

When you had the chance, you would pop by and check up on her. At this stage, you could not take her out to go out and play anymore. But you made the effort to bring her surprises and chat with her.

Time was running out.

You still had a job to do.

During those next two days, you didn’t see Jack at all. After the encounter with him and Pitch, you weren’t sure what more you could say to the Guardian of Fun. You had told him almost every from the beginning. 

What did he expect? 

Hopefully, he would have taken some time to realize that death did not take sides. It was simply a part of life. To live and to die. The chance of you taking sides with Pitch was never going to be a reality.

Regardless, you tried not to bump into him if you could. 

It seemed like the two of you needed space.

But that evening of the second day, you had a strong feeling that things were drawing to a close and you stuck around. If Jack showed up, then so be it. 

He wasn’t going to stop you from doing your job.

He couldn’t, even if he tried.

“(Y/N)?”

You turned look at Amber, reaching out to hold her outstretched hand. 

“Are you and Jack fighting?” she asked. “How come you two don’t visit me together?”

You gave her a bitter smile. Children. They always sensed when things were different much sooner than adults. They caught onto emotions so easily. They were always the most innocent when it came to death. 

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, you pat her head.

“We just had a misunderstanding, Amber.”

“Do you need to talk to him?”

“I probably should.”

Amber pointed to the space behind you. “Maybe you should talk to him now then.”

Turning, you spotted the Guardian of Fun. His blue hoodie pulled up as he stood there, leaning against the wall and watching the two of you. You weren’t sure how long he had been there, but you knew Amber had a point. 

It was now or never.

If you let this chance pass you by, you might let this misunderstanding stay between the two of you forever.

The sound of voices outside in the hallways made you tilt your head slightly, trying to better listen to who it was. Recognizing them as the doctors and Amber’s parents, you knew this was your best chance to step aside.

“Yeah, I’ll go do that.” You leaned in closer to Amber. “Make sure you take the time now to say what you want to mom and dad, okay?”

“I’m running out of time, aren’t I?” Amber asked, voice quivering.

You hesitated, but only for a moment. Every part of you knew that these would be her last moments. She deserved to know.

“I’m sorry,” you softly whispered back. “I’ll be here to guide you when it is time though, okay?”

Amber nodded. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She opened her arms out to you for a hug. While you were holding onto her embrace, you felt another set of arms wrap around the two of you. The cool presence you recognized had to belong to the only other spirit in the room. 

Once the group hug was done, Amber shooed you and Jack out to talk just as her parents made their way inside her room.

“Let’s go this way,” you said, leading the way to a quieter hallway. Jack silently followed behind you.

Standing in the empty hallway, you and Jack stood there for a moment before you knew you had say something.

“Do you really think Pitch and I had something between us?” you asked, gauging for a reaction.

“It sounds like the two of you have known each other for a long time,” Jack pointed out. 

“We have,” you agreed. “We play chess together sometimes. But that’s about it.”

“You never told me.”

“You never asked.”

Jack paused, but could only nod his head. “Fair enough.”

You fidgeted with the bracelet on your wrist as you gathered your thoughts. You didn’t need to tell Jack everything, but you felt like you should. You had grown to care and perhaps even like the Guardian of Fun, you didn’t want to lose him over something that felt as trivial as this.

“Not many people would ever befriend a grim reaper,” you explained, voice quiet. “It’s a lonely existence. Even among other grim reapers, its hard to fit in when I carry the weight of every soul I take like someone who was turned recently when I’m one of the most experienced reapers out there. Most of the other grim reapers have grown numb to the task, but that’s something I just can’t do.”

“(Y/N)…” Jack reached out to you.

When his fingers brushed up against your cheek, you looked up at him and Jack could see your glassy (E/C) eyes. You carried a lot more than what you were willing to show. 

“Death takes no sides,” you recited. “What Pitch was implying... Its not something that could ever happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, pulling his hood down and taking a step closer to you. “I...”

Before he could finish forming his thought, there was a commotion from the direction of Amber’s room. 

You knew immediately what was happening having experienced it so many times before. It never got any easier. Wiping at the unfallen tears in your eyes, you straightened up and brushed your clothes down with your hands. Hopefully you looked presentable enough.

“It’s Amber, isn’t it?” Jack asked, worry evident on his face. 

“It’s time,” you murmured just loud enough for him to catch. 

Walking towards the room, you stood a short distance away from the door. Jack had followed you, hovering nearby. He reminded you of the new grim reapers that you mentored a long time ago. Nervous and scared. 

A light figure of a soul stepped out of the room. When her eyes caught sight of the two of you, a smile appeared on her face as she approached.

“(Y/N)! Jack! Did you get the chance to talk?” Amber asked.

You nodded, crouching down to her height. “We did. Did you get the chance to tell mom and dad everything?”

“Not everything...” Amber said, looking back at the room. The muffled sound of crying came from the closed door. “Do you think they know?”

“Of course,” Jack reassured her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “Moms and dads always have a way to know what you can’t say.”

This brought a smile to Amber’s face. 

For someone who never had to experience this, Jack was doing fine. Seeing them interact made the bubble of sadness inside you grow. Now was not the time to show how you felt. You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the letter. It fluttered out of your hand and landed on the door at the end of the hall. 

A light glow emitted from the other side of the closed door.

You held your hand out to Amber. “It’s time for us to go.”

“Bye, Jack,” Amber said as she took your hand. 

Jack gave her a small wave. “Bye, Amber.”

Giving Amber one last moment to linger, you led her towards the door. Like every child that you were responsible for, you hoped that if Amber had another chance at life, may she live a long, healthy and happy life.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath, looked down at the little girl you were with and stepped through it together.

The next few days were quiet for you luckily. After Amber, it was like the someone knew you needed time to recover and gave you a break.

You took the chance to hole up at home, hiding under blankets as you tried your best to manage your sadness. 

Your tears had dried up, your heart still felt heavy, but you were still here. 

Being a grim reaper was tough.

The sound of knocking on your front door was what dragged you off your couch. Cracking the door open, you were surprised to see a magical snow bunny dance in front of you before turning into a small shower of sparkling snowflakes.

“Surprised?” 

You turned to see Jack watching you from the side, casually leaning against his staff.

“Jack,” you said, looking at him. “How’d you find me?”

“I came by one time, remember?” Jack approached you. At the sight of your still swollen eyes from these last few days, his expression softened. “Mind if I come in?”

You nodded, letting him inside. 

Jack left his staff by your entrance, propped up against the wall.

He came into your place with a bit of familiarity, yet still looked around as if this were his first time here. His eyes settled on the pile of blankets on your couch. 

As you trailed after him, you were startled when he turned around and swept you into a hug. Despite being the bringer of winter and cold, Jack’s hug felt warm and comforting. His breath tickled your ears as he held you close.

“I’m not very good at saying the right things to comfort people,” he admitted softly. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, snuggling into his embrace. Your response drew a relieved sigh out of Jack as he pulled you in closer. He gently pet your hair as he let you hang onto the much needed comfort you needed the last few days. There were no more tears left inside of you to cry and having someone here for you was more than enough.

After some time, you shyly stepped back from Jack. He was reluctant to let you go though, hands still placed on your shoulders.

“Thank you. For being here with me.” You mull of your thoughts for a moment before ultimately deciding to voice them to the man in front of you. Meeting his eyes, you try your best to not let any emotions show in your words. “Jack, perhaps you shouldn’t spend any more time with me.”

Confusion settled on his face. “(Y/N)...”

“Being a grim reaper is like being surrounded by sadness and death. No spirits like interacting with us. Humans think we’re a bad omen. It just comes with the profession - we’re not meant to get attached to anyone.”

“That’s not true,” Jack gently protested. His hand caressed your cheek, causing heat to rise to your face as he looked down at you. “I see you, (Y/N). After everything we’ve been through this last while, I have a pretty good understanding of who you are. You can’t let your job define you.” 

He gazed into your eyes, checking for any signs of rebuttal or conflict. It was the glimmer of hope he saw from you that gave him the confidence. 

Jack leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Give yourself a chance,” he murmured as he leaned his forehead against yours. “And if you feel the same way as I do, give me a chance too.”

While his confession surprised you a little, you knew deep down, you had felt the same connection he was feeling.

Raising a hand, you touch Jack’s cheek. It felt as warm as how your own were feeling. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “As long as you help me along the way.”

“For you, anything.”

#rise of the guardians #jack frost x reader #Jack Frost #jack #frost #x reader #reader insert #one step back

[recreationalfanfics]

Loki + Jack The Ripper with a Muerte the Wolf! S/o:

LIKE THE READER HAS THE SAME MANNERISMS AND JUST IS DEATH, NOT A DEATH GOD, THEY JUST ARE DEATH. Also Handsome is used in a gender neutral term here btw!"

Loki:

You always had a certain distaste when it came to Gods. They were, if not just as bad, as humans when it came to appreciating their lives because you knew already that even God's could bleed. When Ragnarok started, you essentially became a janitor as you took the souls of dead mortals to Niflhiem, and were confused when you had to escort two God's souls but it made you slightly proud, knowing that these humans were willing to fight for their entire survival and for their future generations...they may not have been as hopeless as you thought.

"Hello, (tall/small), dark, and handsome!" A voice called out to you.

Unlike some people.

"Loki. Leave me be, I have work to attend too." You brush him off, not bothering to look back at the green-haired God.

However that did not stop him from being as annoying as ever and floating in front of you, his face upside down as he gave you one of his signature creepy little smiles. You scoffed and ducked down under him but he immediately stood upright, his feet landing on the ground.

As of late, the God of Deciet started hanging around you more. You couldn't really fathom as to WHY, maybe because he thought you were interesting or maybe because he knew you wanted to be left alone and just wanted to bother you anyways. Regardless, you've been pestered by him non stop for ages.

"Aw, but you always have work!" He whines, grabbing your cloak and pulling you towards him.

You make no reaction as you fall into his arms and you let out an animalistic growl as he hugs you tightly and nuzzles his cheek with yours.

"If I didn't know any better, (Y/n), it's almost like you don't like me!"

You harshly shove him off of you and try to walk off but he catches up to you rather quickly. He was oddly more determined than usual to get in your way, "So, what did you think of the fight just now? Aren't the humans exciting!?"

You smiled at him, "I'll agree with you on that. I'm gonna be honest, I'm quite proud of them."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes." Then your eyes go from (e/c) to red as you step in front of him with a wolfish grin, "I wonder if they'll finally make you Gods realize that one day, I'll come for you all, too."

Loki blinks but then laughs at your words, causing you to become stone-faced once more seeing how your intimidation didn't work on him, either because he was too arrogant or too out of his mind.

"Believe me, if I could die a thousand deaths just so you would come to me just once, I would," He sighs dreamily, making you roll your eyes and turn away from him, "But, alas, it seems you're too insistent on playing hard to get!"

It feels very noteworthy to mention that you've been playing "hard to get" with him for a good portion of your existence and considering how death was neverending, it has been a very long time. You learned long ago you shouldn't bother to get attached to people because you knew that you couldn't keep them, you'd have to take them and give them up at some point, and this tournament only proved that not even the God of Deceit would be any different if the humans could kill gods. Not that you'd be super upset if he were to die, regardless of how managed to rile up all your emotion, it would still be all the same.

"...Answer me this, God, would you still smile at me the way you do now if I had to escort you to Niflhiem?"

Loki seemed taken aback by your question and tapped his chin, pretending to think about your inquiry before giving you a sly smile.

"Only if you send me off with a kiss~"

You narrow your eyes at him but begin to walk away from him. You should've known better than to ask a serious question to a foolish God.

Jack the Ripper:

Jack wondered if he was able to die a second time in the afterlife, well...he knew he was able too considering he just killed a God, but he wonders what would happen if he just dropped to the ground, laying down and succumbing to the injuries bestowed into him by Hercules and the crowd. Would he go to Niflhiem? Or would he just go to Hell?

He didn't get the chance to find out because once he fell to his knees, he felt another person grab one of his arms and put it around their shoulder. He feels their hand on his back supporting him as they both stood up together and then walked down the hall.

"I truly do believe that you're cursed, Jack." You sigh softly, shaking your head. He looks up at you, you can see him doing so from your peripheral vision and you chuckle to yourself softly, "Honestly, it amazes me how you're capable of such cruelty and yet, you still have such innocent eyes."

You speak to him like you are an old friend to him, in fact, you feel awfully familiar to him. He's certain that he's never met you before in his life, however, he would've remembered someone with such a beautiful color. You...you embodied it, you embodied his favorite color of life fleeting from a person, but there was more to your color than just that. You were a macabre work of art, so if you had met...surely he would've remembered you!

"D...Do I know you?" He asked, trying his best not to cough up blood. You shake your head, "No...but I do know you. After all, we have worked with each other quite a few times in the past. Five times to be exact."

He narrowed his eyes, now he surely felt like he would've remembered you, especially if he met you five times. You chuckle at his furrowed brows as he tries to think about what you were talking about.

"You might not have seen me, but you have felt me." You tease, finding the look on his face quite endearing.

He wonders what on Earth you could've possibly meant by that, thinking long and hard. Yes, you did feel familiar. You felt calm to be around, perhaps slightly bit ominous, but you felt like...like the silence after a tragedy occurs. Solemn, causing slight anxiety to those around you, but then...quiet. Calm yet suspenseful.

Ah, he knows who you are now.

And you can see it in his eyes that he recognizes you.

"(Y/n)." He says, making it your turn to be shocked,

He was supposed to know you, but the fact he calls you...that name instead of your generally well-known one surprises you. He notices your expression change and smiles, "I do apologize if that was improper of me, but something inside me was telling me to call you that."

He was an odd one indeed.

"Don't apologize, I also feel as though we can drop the formalities, Jack." You chuckle.

You bring him the medical wing of the stadium and as you lay him down on the gurney, he grabs your arm before you pull it away.

"Thank you...for being with me all my life, (Y/n)." He grins.

If you had a heart, you were sure it would break from how true his words are. You had followed him along for quite a long time until you caught up to him, and now here you were, this time, he was able to finally see you.

"You truly are a cursed man." You sigh sadly, squeezing his hand reassuringly before standing up and leaving.

#Ror x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #ror loki #ror loki x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv loki x reader #snv loki #snv x reader #ror jack the ripper #ror jack the ripper x reader #jack th ripper x reader #snv jack the ripper x reader #jack the ripper x reader #jack the ripper snv #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv #ror #snv x y/n #snv x you #ror x you

[moonyswritinq]

runs in the family — platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gn reader

❝ RUNS IN THE FAMILY ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Edwin had been dead for decades and you had wandered the earth as a ghost in search for him. Who would have thought that you would find him in a small town in America, just strolling down the street?

PAIRING ➢ platonic! edwin payne x sibling! gender neutral reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ mentions of death, kind of flirty reader, not much more warning needed than that, takes place end of chapter three, so spoilers?? not beta read

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.7 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ seeing as the reader is written as a sibling to Edwin it is implied they are biologically related and therefore caucasian. But since I have not specified anything the reader could just as well be adopted and of another ethnicity, so I leave it up to be your choice.

MASTERLIST, TAG LIST

It had been a hundred years.

A century had gone by since you died. And still you had not managed to finish your business in order to move on to the afterlife. How could you? When your older brother had mysteriously gone missing from his boarding school, simply presumed dead, and labeled as ‘an act of God’ and nothing else had happened. No one made inquiries. No one bothered to try to do him justice.

No one cared.

And it infuriated you. So much to the point of taking up the quest of finding him yourself. But no one knew anything, nor cared to tell you anything, so you were unable to find anything worthy of interest. Edwin simply did not matter to anyone besides you—even your parents were frustratingly unhelpful. It broke your heart. You didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t care about its people. Luckily, you didn’t have to for long.

It happened a year after you graduated from high school, making you three years older than the age Edwin  had been when he disappeared. As soon as you’d completed school you had gotten out of your conservative town, opting to travel to London instead to settle down there. The aftermath of the war had just calmed down and you thought you could get a new start. You hadn’t entirely left the business of Edwin behind you, but knowing there was nothing more you could do for him settled your guilt slightly.

When you had finally started getting used to the idea of Edwin actually being gone and of the possibility of moving on with your life, you died. A simple case of wrong place, wrong time in a robbery. And you reckoned some part of you weren’t completely ready to let go of Edwin because you had woken up again, as a ghost.

It was strange at first, feeling nothing but still being there, invisible to everyone but yourself. And it hadn’t hurt much—you had died immediately.

What should have been a tragedy left you feeling nothing but relief. You were finally free from the world’s boundaries and rules and the idiotic people that wouldn’t help your brother. Then being able to travel anywhere you wanted, speak to other dead people, and uncover all the supernatural entities that had been hiding under your nose your whole living life was more than you could have wished for. Was it possible Edwin could also be somewhere? Wandering around as a ghost, the same as you?

The thought was too good to even hope to be true. As it turns out, it was.

You visited all the places Edwin had been or he had talked about going to or anywhere you could have imagined his ghost to have gone. But there were no signs of him—at least no signs that you could find. No one had any information about your brother. It almost left you feeling like how you had when you were alive. Your world had gone from the bright colours of hope back to the dull monochromaticity that your life had been.

For years you had wandered the planet, going from country to country, adapting to the changing years and humanity’s new technology. It interested you to figure out the new things that were invented and to keep up with the modern world—not to talk about all the different ghosts, people, and other supernatural beings you met. While it was nice to travel around without a clear goal, your mind was constantly stuck on the thought of your brother being alone somewhere.

You needn’t have worried though, you realised, when you had found yourself in the small town of Port Townshend, walking down the street and seeing a very familiar face. Right across the road, a figure clad in a brown coat was walking with an all too rigid posture and pursing his lips at the teenagers surrounding him. You were too stunned to speak, your tongue felt as if it were locked, unable to voice any of the jumble of thoughts currently bouncing through your mind.

“Edwin?” you croaked, voice strained as it fought against the constricting of your throat. You hurriedly ran to cross the road, narrowly missing a car. It wouldn’t have hurt, but habits die hard—even if it had been a hundred years since you were alive. And so you let out a loud curse, swivelling out of its path, “Oh, bloody hell!”

When you turned to continue to the other side of the street you already found a familiar pair of eyes locked onto yours. Edwin had stopped completely in his path and with his mouth agape, arms hanging by his side. You couldn’t fight the grin that made its way to your face and broke out in a run, crashing into his frame with a hug.

“Wha—” he stumbled, before embracing you back and nestling his face into your shoulder.

It felt as if he would never let you go by the grip he had on you—and you couldn’t blame him. It had been way too long since you had hugged him like this and you couldn’t help the relieved chuckle that escaped you. It also felt weird hugging another ghost—it was like he was there and he wasn’t, but you could feel his presence in a way you couldn’t when you touched the living.

“It’s you,” you whispered, pulling away to grab him by the shoulders and really take him in. “It’s really you.”

Edwin looked just like you had remembered him to have looked when he disappeared. The same eyes, with which he always sent glares your way, and the same smile he hid in the corner of his lips by turning away from you, although it shone through at you then as a grin. He couldn’t help it, and neither could you.

“I—I never thought I would see you again,” he said.

You scoffed. “As if you could get rid of me that easily.” Then your eyes softened. “Though you scared me half to death.”

“More than half, it would seem,” he said, looking you up and down. “What are you still doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked, a smile on your lips despite your soft tone. “You were my unfinished business.”

You went in for another hug with a chuckle, holding him even tighter as if he would disappear if you didn’t. All that worrying, all that searching, all that trouble you had gone through to find your brother and it was all finally worth it. The thought made you almost want to cry—almost. You pulled away then for real, letting the both of you go back to your regular composure as a relaxed grin settled against your lips and Edwin’s went back to hiding in the corner of his lips.

That was when you noticed the questioning stares from his three friends. They were all glancing back and forth between you in clear confusion. 

“Sorry, did everyone just see what I saw?” questioned the dark-haired girl with a frown, gesturing between the two of you. “Who are you?”

You smiled at her. “Forgive me for being rude. I forgot myself for a second,” you said with a glance at Edwin. “I’m y/n, Edwin’s sibling.”

The three of them stared in astonishment upon hearing the words uttered, again looking between you two.

“I see the resemblance now that you mention it,” said the tall boy.

You shot him a playful smile. “I’m clearly the better sibling, though.”

“As if,” scoffed Edwin and tugged at his cuff. “At least I am older.”

You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips. “Don’t know if that is actually true, anymore. I was alive longer than you were.”

“What? No.” He looked affronted at your words. “My birth was before yours and I am thus older than you.”

The boy next to him cleared his throat with a pointed glance. Edwin resumed to his usual composure, a curtain falling over his features as his bickering spirit died out. You let out a snicker, glancing between the four of them.

“You gonna introduce me to your handsome friends, Edwin?” you asked with a grin, eyeing the tall boy specifically.

Edwin glared at you. “Don’t,” he spit out, warning lacing through his tone. When you held up your hands in surrender he turned to his friends, gesturing to them all in turn with their names. “Y/n, this is Charles, Niko and Crystal.”

“Nice to meet you,” Niko’s soft voice said, hopping forward to give you a hug.

It caught you slightly off guard, but it was welcomed even though you couldn’t feel it as well as you could feel Edwin’s ghost hug. Crystal gave you a hesitant hand to shake and you took it enthusiastically with a smile. She smiled then, apparently less apprehensive. Charles also thrust out a hand along with a charming smirk.

“Any sibling of Edwin must be brills,” he said. “Also a ghost, by the way.”

You took his hand with an appreciative nod. “Did you hear that, Edwin? I’m brills,” you said and looked over your shoulder.

By doing so, you didn’t miss the soft gaze Edwin was looking at Charles with and nodded to yourself, smiling coyly. While you had learnt to adapt to the modern times, and even back then had always been quite open about yourself, Edwin was a shyer and more private person. You would let him work it out by himself.

“You know, I missed your miserable face,” you remarked, turning to nudge him with your elbow. “I also think we have a lot to catch up on, Edwin.” 

“I would say that is quite correct. We will take care of that, later,” he nodded in his stilted way. Weird as it was, you had missed his gestures.

When the four of them turned to keep walking, Niko suddenly let out a loud gasp. “There’s Monty, our new friend,” she exclaimed.

You turned to look where she was gesturing and saw a very handsome boy looking up when hearing his name. He smiled easily at the five of you and stood up from the bench he had been sitting on with a few books in hand. The boy, Monty, let out what sounded like a nervous chuckle while glancing between the group, definitely noting the closeness between you and Edwin.

“Hey. Wow, quite the crew you got here.”

“So, he’s alive and he can see the boys?” asked Crystal.

“Oh, he can definitely see Edwin,” replied Niko. You saw Monty smile at Edwin and turned to your brother with a questioning glance. He only shrugged.

When you turned back, you found Monty was already staring at you. His eyes were dark and thoughtful, jumping from your face to your clothes and your boots and your frame and your hair and your smirk—which spread even wider. His mouth opened in a silent gasp as he took in the sight of you. You could feel your lifeless cheeks warm with blood—if they could do that—and let your gaze skirt away nervously.

“Oh, hi, I, uh, don’t believe I have seen you before.” Monty smiled sheepishly at you and his voice was warm and sweet. “I feel, uh, like I would have remembered a face like yours.”

His face got redder the longer he talked and the more he tripped over his words. It was weirdly endearing and you smiled at him as his gaze jumped between you and Edwin.

“Edwin’s my brother,” you said. “I’m y/n. Also a ghost.”

“Charmed.” Monty’s grin grew wider. “I suppose good looks run in the family.”

You saw Edwin shift uneasily out of the corner of your eye and smiled at him. Monty’s unashamedly flirting was clearly not something Edwin was entirely ready for yet, but it only made the whole thing more amusing. And you couldn’t ignore the playful smirk Monty was giving you nor the glint in his eye.

“And I’m Charles. Nice to meet you, mate,” interrupted the other ghost, his own charming smile fixed on his lips, and extended a hand for Monty to take. “Any pal of Edwin’s is aces in my book.”

Monty’s lips pursed. “Yeah, sorry, hands are full,” he said, his voice suddenly cold and stand-offish.

He moved past you, closer to Edwin, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you. You smiled to yourself as you turned to the other three, looking back at Monty.

“I was polite, wasn’t I?” asked Charles. His voice sounded much smaller, almost insecure.

“Yeah, you did good,” replied Crystal and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

You crossed your arms over your chest and leant closer to him. “Don’t take it personal just ‘cause you aren’t pretty enough to earn Monty’s kindness.”

Charles turned to you, affronted, and glared at your cheeky smile. “Oi, hurtful. I’m very pretty, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, glancing up at him. “And don’t you worry, Edwin knows it too.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You only shrugged, glancing back at your brother and Monty. You saw Edwin take the book from him, completely oblivious to the way his gaze was fixed on him, and Niko was unashamedly listening in on their conversation. You took the opportunity to study Monty’s feature’s more carefully, gazing at the ways his lips lifted ever so slightly, and how his eyes suddenly jumped to yours. Immediately, you looked away in shame at being caught staring at him and you were sure to be blushing if you were still capable of it. When you dared look back at him his eyes were yet again on Edwin, but his smirk a bit wider.

“Hey.” You looked to Charles again, nudging him in the side. “If Edwin doesn’t know, though, at least I do.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his grin widen as his eyes fixed on you. That was when Edwin glanced past Monty, meeting your eye briefly before flickering over to Charles. You noticed him hesitate in his reply to Monty and furrowed your brows. It wasn’t like your brother to be careful about his words. Crystal seemed to know what he was thinking as she suddenly brought her hands together.

“Ah, well,” she began, sighing with what sounded like very bad conviction, ”Axe-murder, suicide Groundhog Day drained me, so, uh… I’m gonna head up.”

You shot her a questioning glance but decided against asking her about it. Whatever Edwin and his group had been up to you had more than enough time to figure out. Now that you had found him, there was no chance you were letting him go.

Niko nodded at Crystal’s words, still caught up with whatever Edwin and Monty were speaking about. “Okay, I’ll be up soon,” she said.

Crystal sighed and went over to the other girl, taking ahold of her arm and dragging her away from the boys. You shot a questioning glance at Edwin, but he just nodded for you to go without him. Briefly, you met Monty’s gaze as well and were almost pinned to the spot by his smile before he turned back to your brother. You swallowed and made to walk away when you noticed Charles was still stuck to the same spot, his gaze pinned to Edwin.

“Come on, mate, let’s go.”

He scoffed but let himself be guided away to follow the other two. You heard the traces of Edwin and Monty’s conversation follow behind you, their voices floating through the air. Monty’s was melodic and it made you sigh at the sound of it.

“He’s very cute, isn’t he?” you asked Charles, nudging his side with your elbow.

“Yeah,” he nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

You weren’t sure you were talking about the same person.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear

#moonyswritinq #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detective spoilers #dbd #dbd fanfic #dead boy detectives fanfic #fanfiction #reader fanfiction #male reader fanfic #reader insert #x gn reader #x reader #x male reader #edwin paine #edwin payne #charles rowland #edwin x charles #crystal palace #niko sasaki #monty the crow #charles x reader #charles rowland x reader #charles rowland x you #monty x reader #monty x you #x you #x you fluff

[read-marx-and-lenin]

Would you consider making those strong philosophical arguments? As an atheist, I vehemently oppose religion as a worldview and as an institution, and while I do recognize a lot of pitfalls (impossible to tell which religion is correct, fallacious arguments about the afterlife, how it's a tool of class domination), I'm not sure what you mean by strong arguments.

There is a long history of atheist and anti-religious philosophy, both on the left and within other social and political currents. I am not an expert on religious philosophy myself and I would much rather you defer to others more knowledgable than I on the subject. The Marxists Internet Archive has plenty of works by various authors on the subject of religion, and beyond the left there are plenty of works by atheist writers arguing either in favor of disbelief or against arguments put forth by religious writers. I'm not asking for anything new, I'm just disappointed by how common it is for (primarily Western) leftists to shy away from directly critiquing religion as a concept and instead falling back on the same old "religion is fine, it's just Institutionalized Religion™ that's the problem" type of messaging. Atheism gets a bad rap in our circles, probably because so many folks still associate it with "New Atheism" or so-called "Reddit atheism" and folks like Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens, or Thunderf00t. Atheism is not bigotry and it is not the sole purview of cishet white men.

By "strong arguments" I mean arguments that directly address the irrational and immaterial foundations of a faith-based supernatural worldview. A belief in divine powers that supersede natural law is fundamentally incompatible with a naturalistic and scientific worldview. Science is based on one major fundamental axiom that is necessary for the scientific process to produce useful knowledge, and that axiom is that all phenomena in the universe are governed by fundamental and unchanging natural laws. If supernatural forces exist that are untethered from any such laws, then science is rendered unable to produce useful knowledge as any observation cannot be trusted to be the result of natural processes alone.

If one believes their religion to be scientific, then any claims made by the religion must be falsifiable and understood as governed by natural law. There cannot be any God of the gaps, there cannot be any claims of omnipotence or omniscience, there can only be natural phenomena and theories explaining the nature of said phenomena. If your gods are entirely natural in origin and you believe you can prove their existence, then great. You're not relying on faith or any other sort of irrational or immaterial argument. If worship were involved, I would still question the point of that, but I wouldn't classify your belief as religious in the traditional sense.

However, if you do truly have faith in a divine, supernatural force that supersedes natural law, then that belief is logically incompatible with a scientific worldview. The concept of non-overlapping magisteria is just a bit of nonsense to avoid having to deal with the fact that claims are either falsifiable and thus subject to scientific inquiry, or unfalsifiable and thus indistinguishable from their own antithesis. If God hides from prying eyes, then how is that any different from there being no God? If God doesn't hide, then where is he? If God interferes with the natural world, then how can we distinguish between natural and supernatural phenomenon? If God doesn't interfere, then why should we care about God?

Prophecy and divine revelation are also irrational. If there are facts about ourselves and the universe that cannot be found through observation of the natural world but can only be revealed to certain special individuals, then how can we distinguish these facts from fiction? If the claims of the prophets are falsifiable and can be tested, then what makes them supernatural? Plenty of scientists have claimed ideas came to them in dreams, but they didn't then write a paper that said "I dreamed this, therefore it is true." They did the work to demonstrate to others that these ideas are rigorous, logical, and backed by observation. Did God give them these ideas, or was it simply their own minds that came up with them? If there is a way to distinguish between the two, then let us distinguish them. If there is not, then there is no point bringing God into the matter.

If the existence and non-existence of a phenomenon or substance are indistinguishable from each other, then non-existence should be assumed until such a time at which we can distinguish between the two and determine whether or not the thing exists. If someone wants to claim that humans have souls, that there is an afterlife, that prayer or magic or sacrifices do anything meaningful, then they would need to define their terms carefully and propose a means of testing their claims, because unfalsifiable claims are indistinguishable from their own antithesis.

#ask #communism #socialism #leftism

[vxredemption]

The First Tear (1/3) by vxredmption(Warmund)

A COTL AU fanfic writing for @gorjee-art COTL AU (All properties, AUs, concepts, imagery, etc. go their respective owners.)

Silence. A steady but heavy footstep follows... then silence. The slow sunset over the great lands casted down onto one living hooded figure, standing near their lamb god as they swayed their adorned thurible, casting trails of ancient burning incense to attract those who have lost their way to the afterlife as it moved around around a ancient clearing. The figure had, for a time, considered his god to be living as well... but he knew that contradicts their achieved divinity all those years ago. He had accepted it... but now he feels his heart grow heavy with a longing that he took for granted. The hooded figure, Narinder, would soon try to make talk with his god for a hundredth time... hoping that this time they could at least see a sign that they have listened to them. "Today's harvest was well with your followers, Lamb... berries, cauliflower, pumpkins... the feast for this month will be plentiful and colorful." A pause... then a another heavy step is heard, with bells softly tolling about around the god's neck and ears. The Lamb God was still on their duties to see if there was any lost flock of the afterlife still present in the ancient grounds... finding nothing in one part of the clearing. They soon moved to another side, giving their chained censer a sway as to see if there were any souls yet to be guided by them. "The followers were as happy as they can be at end of the harvest day. Plans of great meals that even my sister, Heket, would be happy to make with great fervor... though Leshy could at least try some patience before interfering her work by going a handful of fish tearing them at their heads with glee as a... 'sample dish'." Narinder mustered a small smile, happy remembering the scene in detail with familial fondness... but that slowly faded as he only sees the Lamb God was still silent... once again being unnoticed for the hundredth and one time of this day. The grip on his shepherd staff tightened a little, once belonging to Lamb when they smaller and seeing it fitting to be "gifted" to them after their ascension, the wood creaking just a bit from what his mortal strength could offer. "I am sure that even such troubles, even after all these years, the familiarity of family is what helps the even the most lonesome beings to be feel loved." Silence... a heavy footstep... a jingle... silence again. Nothing more from the Lamb... that is until Narinder, who has spoken a normal calm toned voice to the Lamb as if they were his height, spoke a bit louder and rougher around the edges... signs of frustration and melancholy seeping through syllables and at the end of each inquiry. "Lamb... the one who I call God to... how much more can I take this? How many more times will my words go unheard to you? How much longer will I even get to see as much as to turn towards me to make even the slightest affirmation or disdain towards my attempts to speak to you? I was the One Who Waits... and the silence I have received from you makes me feel the same imprisonment all those years ago... only this time... I feel my heart beat up to my throat, my limbs no longer weighed by heavy chains.... only to be replaced with a weight a 100 times more painful: no longer seeing you smile."

End of Pt.1 (Hope this is good... otherwise, I follow this notion: Fuck it. We ball!)

#cult of the lamb #ascension of mercy - cotl au #artist mention #my writing #my fanfic #series

[swamp-adder]

People often treat it as a bizarre contradiction that the author who created Sherlock Holmes, the ultimate rationalist, also believed in ghosts and spirits. But I think he might have been drawn to Spiritualism precisely because it was a religious movement that claimed to prove the existence of souls and afterlife etc rationally and through direct experience, rather than relying on faith. Granted ACD himself was pretty irrational about the whole thing; but at least the "psychic research" side of things wanted to be seen as a legitimate field for scientific inquiry and not a mere myth or superstition -- a way of making religion more modern and scientific, perhaps.

#arthur conan doyle

[stygian-posting]

You all had quite a few questions for me last time I offered to do one of these... Is there anything else I can possibly answer for you all, regarding the afterlife, or any inquiries about the world around you? I'll do my best to get to each one!

[gentil-minou]

Xiantober Day 4 - Ghost!Xian + TGCF Crossover

Good news! Wei Wuxian has been resurrected!

The denizens of Ghost City let out a chorus of exuberant cheers and muffled. groans. Those who'd placed bets hounded the losers to collect their winnings.

13 years ago, the Yiling Loazu landed in Ghost City with with all the subtlety of a calamity being born. In fact, many had thought that was who he was; a new ghost king to challenge their current leader.

While some were concerned, most kept burnt popcorn on hand for what would inevitable become the battle of the century.

Instead, Wei Wuxian took one look around and, without any hint of menace or even perhaps fear, let out a loud "Huh! So this is what hell is like"

Longtime residents of Ghost City were deeply offended by this; their home was lovely! This new whippersnapper dared to come in and insult them! So rude!

A nearby yao, half lion and half sea horse with the beak of an eagle, stepped forward to challenge the new arrival. She was known for being the most vicious fighter, and an excellent baker of human pies.

But instead of recoiling in fear, the Yiling Loazu appraised her up and down, marveling at her fearsome features and bracelets.

The yao had never been complimented that way before, and that was the day she discovered she blushed the color blue. That also seemed to fascinate Wei Wuxian.

In fact, Wei Wuxian took to Ghost City like a baby demon to fire and brimstone. He instantly befriended the tavern owner, even though he spent as much time lamenting their liquor selection as he spent drinking it. It wasn't their fault Emperor's Smile was so hard to import here!

The Yiling Loazu was often seen spending his nights terrorizing innocent ghosts enjoying their afterlife with bets he somehow always won. Other nights, his flute was heard through the market, mournful and putting a damper on everyone's mood

Occasionally, on certain nights every year, Wei Wuxian would drink himself into a stupor, murmuring apologizes to his shijie and shidi, along with doleful gratitude to someone he called Lan Zhan.

He spent a lot of time calling for Lan Zhan, actually, wondering why he never responded or tried to call for him instead.

None of the other ghosts had the heart to tell him inquiry and other communication methods couldn't permeate the barrier around Ghost City.

Eventually, they became used to Wei Wuxian's particular brand of terror. Some days it would be a prank or something,

Like adding extra extra spice to pig baker's sweet cakes. Other days. He'd find ways to automate the city and make it more efficient, even helping some of the elderly ghosts with tasks they weren't able to do.

But it was always clear to them, even if no one said it:

Wei Wuxian did not belong here. While everyone else had welcomed their undead life with open arms, Wei Wuxian held a love of life that glowed in his red eyes, a longing for something half lived and lost.

Secretly, the citizens of Ghost City were hoping for the day he'd go back.

That day, when Wei Wuxian disappeared in a burst of bright white light that blinded everyone in the vicinity, was a joyous one indeed. They ate and drank and kept merry, wishing blessings for his new life.

They hoped they wouldn't see Wei Wuxian for a long, long while.

(threadfic here)

#no fun quips or commentary today only endless anxiety #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed #wei wuxian #tgcf #tgcf ghost city #mxtx #xiantober #mdzs musings #bushy writing

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC in 15 or less Tag

Thank you for the Tag, @cowboybrunch (here)! <3

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I'm doing half of this for my OC Cory Blythe, from Mutant Inquiries, and the other half for Augustus Grimmure, from Enchanted Illusions for this tag!

Cory Blythe

"Listen, douchebag, I'm far too sober to deal with whatever this bullshit is right now and I'm already running late for my fucking job - by the way, I'm far more scared of my boss than I am of you. So how about you go mug someone else and I don't stab you with these heels?"

"And you seriously thought involving 'Miss Trust Fund' over here in our mess was a good idea? No! You just signed our early death certificate." [...] "Why? Oh my god, I don't know, Becky... maybe because her infamously overprotective dad is the CEO of a fucking multimillionaire enterprise and you just dragged his only daughter to the middle of a conspiracy?! I don't care if she wants to help! That's Violet Villarosa, for fuck's sake. We're dead now, we're so dead - I'll have a closed casket for sure."

"The more I live, the more I realize I might be the sanest person in this group of idiots. And that scares me."

"Are any of you going to explain why there's a random dude bleeding out in my brand-new car? No? Okay then."

"Becky," [they take a deep breath] "My best friend, my surrogate sister, the caffeinated cutie-pie of my life, I say this in the most polite way possible - I'd rather be waterboarded with lava than hear that plan ever again."

"Teague, let's make one thing very fucking clear - I'm following my side of the contract, so you can do whatever you want to me in the meantime. But my friends - my family - they're off limits, and if I ever find out you sent any one of your thugs after Rebecca or any of them again, it'll be the last goddamn thing you do. I don't care if you're the head of the mob, or if I'll be food for the fishes afterward - you're not the only one here with a pocketknife, fucker."

"I call dibs on the fluffy socks and the cereal!"

"Look, just because I'm not a mutant like you guys doesn't mean I can't seriously fuck somebody up with a shotgun. Now, one of you might want to take the wheel of this car 'cause I'm about to do just that."

Augustus Grimmure

Augustus felt rejuvenated - like he’d just woken up from a nice nap, adjusting his bloodstained dapper suit and glaring at the now soulless corpse. “Oh -" He looked down, noticing the crimson splatters on his coat "That’s just nonsense! Look at this, it's all ruined and covered in blood! It was my new suit! How dare he stab me.”

"My, my, it's a great deal of a fall from up here. I'm not so sure about this anymore, Hattie-" He looked over the speeding train's railing, turning to Harriet with a shaky, nervous chuckle. As he did, he noticed the outline of the two goons clambering into the wagon behind them, guns ready. "Oh, well, as some say - ladies first!" Before she could say anything, Augustus pushed her over the railing - summoning a portal beneath her. Two bullets flew past the spot where she'd just been standing, instead lodging themselves in the young necromancer, who jumped into the portal just before it closed.

"Well, you could attack us, boys, and I'll merely consume all your souls - string by string, painstakingly severing the cord between your life and afterlife until you're all empty husks. You know who I am, and what I can do to mercenaries who threaten people I hold dear." His eyes glowed in the dark, the mark on his wrist causing the mercenaries to stumble back in shock, as shadows swirled around him. "Now, are you sure this is a wise decision to make in the name of your boss, a man who was too lazy to even come get his own hands dirty?"

"I can't tell you more about it, love." He shook his head with a dejected smile, clutching his own arms in a vice grip. "About my deal, about the Deathbringer and what I did. I can't. It's, no - they're just too dangerous, and I made a mistake. I fear it... it won't end well."

"For some reason, I don't think your cousin likes me very much, Harriet." Augustus spoke under his breath after Vincent stormed out, a playful but somewhat serious lilt to his words, concerned. [She replies "It's not about you, per se. Vincent doesn't really like anyone"] The necromancer chuckled. "No, this seems so very personal."

"My grandma used to bring me to this place, when I was a kid." He mused, fiddling with the blue flower between his fingers, before placing it inside the book. "For a lonely commoner kid with a strange magic that everyone was afraid of, these dusty books were paradise. A world where maybe I really could be anyone."

"May I have this dance, darling? We may as well enjoy this uppity evening on our own terms, before anyone makes it otherwise."

Tagging - @oh-no-another-idea, @dreaminggoblin, @mitchell-nihil, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams,@yet-another-heathen @talesofsorrowandofruin, @thetruearchmagos, @writernopal, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @clairelsonao3, @little-peril-stories, @memento-morri-writes and @saltysupercomputer

#wip: mutant inquiries #wip: enchanted illusions #oc in 15 tag #writers on tumblr #writerblr #fantasy writing #sci fi writing #character writing #my characters #my writing #writers #my wips #writeblr #writing

[theyagamianempire]

It is my duty to spread Light's word to all who will listen! It is also my duty to guide our flock to Light's light and help them understand the path to salvation. That being said, the Yagamian Empire is now opening it's asks! Have a question about our Lord and Savior, Light? Wanna know what's waiting for you in the afterlife? Have you done something against the commandments and are looking to repent? Send the council your asks and have all your inquiries answered by our Holy Father- translated and filtered diligently by myself for political correctness!! Light Loves You! Join the Empire!

#death note #death note light #death note memes #light yagami #misa amane #misa misa #l lawliet #l x light #light x l #ryuk death note

[murillo-enthusiast]

—·—·—·—

𝐿𝑎 𝐺𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑢 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑒́𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑙 𝑆𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑡

… Bonjour. This is Marshal-General Jean-de-Dieu Soult, though I do seem to be incarnated as I was when I served the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. Do not ask about my allegiances.

My colleague Marshal Lannes has hosted some correspondence for me at @armagnac-army. I suspect I will primarily respond to queries through that channel, but this is another channel through which I may be contacted.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have paperwork to attend to. Any queries can be addressed to the “ask box”, and my aides-de-camp will redirect them to me - if they are not drunk again.

We're not drunk all the time! --ADC Saint-Chamans Indeed, just most of the time! Greetings, dear reader, we are Marshal Soult's aides-de-camp. I am Alfred de Lameth, and in this medium I am accompanied by the indefatigable Alfred de Saint-Chamans, the sensible Louis Brun de Villeret, the observant Auguste Petiet and the botanical Jean-Baptiste Bory de Saint-Vincent. Our text will be marked in these colours, though the colours will vary if we are confined to, ah, "mobile". Do not be too intimidated by our marshal, and do send us inquiries! --ADC Lameth

—·—·—·—

Out Of Character

(( Hi! This is a joke RP ask blog run by @cadmusfly portraying the surly strategist Marshal Jean-de-Dieu Soult (wikipedia link), one of Napoleon's elite military commanders, and his quirky bunch of aides-de-camp!

Jean-de-Dieu Soult is mostly known for being a plunderer of priceless artworks and wanting to rule Portugal under the name "King Nicolas".

However, it's much more likely that he pressured monks into selling him those artworks for cheap while he was invading their country, and that he was trying to divide and conquer Portugal politically rather than actually wanting to be king - which isn't better, in all honesty. But it is fascinating!

This is in no way meant to be a faithful, accurate or analytical depiction of the actual historical figure Jean-de-Dieu Soult or his staff officers, nor is it meant to condone their actions or offer any historical commentary. This is also primarily focusing on his life during the Napoleonic Wars, but if you want to, I dunno, ask about his life as Prime Minister cozying up to the Orleanists or the French Foreign Legion, I will go look at Wikipedia and come back to you!

This version of Soult and his men does have a bit of Worldbuilding Lore about their existence in the afterlife, but it's not necessary to know to interact with him.

So feel free to ask this grumpy asshole or his entourage of weird ADCs anything!

I also play a very loud Marshal Jean Lannes at @armagnac-army! ))

—·—·—·—

Logistics

Directory of my Colleagues and Other Notable Personages - They will be filed under the "blog usernames".

Tags

proclamations from the duke of dalmatia - Announcements, proclamations and "self-posts".

the duke of dalmatia's correspondence - Letters and conversations with both anonyme askers and acquaintances.

the duke of dalmatia's aides de camp - The ADCs as a collective whole and their interactions.

adc saint-chamans

adc lameth

adc petiet

adc brun de villeret

adc bory de saint-vincent

madame la maréchale’s correspondence - Louise Berg-Soult has occasionally been asked for her opinion.

pertinent - Pertinent "reblogs".

murillo - The magnificent works of the painter Bartolomé Esteban Murillo.

—·—·—·—

#proclamations from the duke of dalmatia #napoleonic rpf #historical rpf #napoleonic roleplay scene

[le-brave-des-braves]

Bienvenue

you have reached my communication channel. I shall read through the letters as soon as one of my ADCs brings them to me, which might depend on the situation in the field.

You are welcome to submit any questions, please be brief and go straight to the point. The love letters will be rejected.

If anyone has seen my family, please let me know.

Ney.

Prince de la Moskowa, Duc d’Elchingen, Maréchal d’Empire

The marshal is a busy man, and some inquiries might be answered by us, his staff:

General Baron Antoine-Henri Jomini, chief of staff of Marshal Ney and the strategy expert. and a traitor who should not even be here Author of multiple best-selling books on the matter.

Captain Octave Levavasseur, the most heroic aide-de-camp of Marshal Ney and author of the bestselling book of simping about Ney Memoir!

Colonel Pierre-Agathe Heymes, the adult one

There are more of us: check the updated directory.

Marshal Ney is experiencing some character development through his frequent interactions with other people in his afterlife.

The assorted asks not related to any of those storylines will be tagged as “archived correspondence” - treating them as the questions that Ney received before these events.

((Disclaimer: This is rp/ask blog created for fun by @neylo. Bear in mind that I am no Napoleonic historian and my only qualification might be that I also happen to be a redhead disaster with no concept of patience. I will be more than happy if you find any useful Ney resources and share them with me! I'm currently finishing my studies and therefore my time is limited. Therefore, my answers won't be the fastest thing in the world. If they are, I’m probably very bored and procrastinating. As a respectable gentleman, I will not answer explicit NSFW asks. In case you are new to RP, I recommend this extensive guideline. In my own words, don't be assholes. I will ignore abusive messages. Thank you for understanding.))

#les proclamations du maréchal #((updated pinned post))

[haveyoureadthispoll]

A surgeon flees a scandal in the city and accepts a job at a village clinic. He buys antibiotics out of pocket, squashes roaches, and chafes at the interventions of the corrupt officer who oversees his work. But his outlook on life changes one night when a teacher, his pregnant wife, and their young son appear. Killed in a violent robbery, they tell the surgeon that they have been offered a second chance at living if the surgeon can mend their wounds before sunrise. So begins a night of quiet work, "as if the crickets had been bribed," during which the surgeon realizes his future is tied more closely to that of the dead family than he could have imagined. By dawn, he and his assistant have gained knowledge no mortal should have. In this inventive novel charged with philosophical gravity and sly humor, Vikram Paralkar takes on the practice of medicine in a time when the right to health care is frequently challenged. Engaging earthly injustice and imaginaries of the afterlife, he asks how we might navigate corrupt institutions to find a moral center. Encompassing social criticism and magically unreal drama, Night Theater is a first novel as satisfying for its existential inquiry as for its enthralling story of a skeptical physician who arrives at a greater understanding of life's miracles.

#book: night theater #author: vikram paralkar #genre: fantasy #genre: magical realism #genre: horror #genre: indian literature

[heimdallsram]

━━━━ masterlist. soundtrack. archive of our own. taglist.

title: perennial

pairing: heimdall x female! goddess! reader

"You were a goddess of oaths and vows. It was only fitting that Odin would bind you to his service in only the most ironic way that he knew how: marriage."

this fanfiction contains the following: domestic violence, blood, gore, choking, violent sexual content, bad BDSM etiquette, non-consensual somnophilia, blood drinking, unhealthy relationships, and much more content that may be sensitive to some readers. reader discretion is advised.

*for inquiries about the taglist, please dm me and i will add you to it.

 “This… Lady Var. Are you certain she is not an agent of Odin?” Kratos inquired from his seat across the table. Laid open in front of him was Atreus’ journal, complete with the thoughts and ramblings of his son, depicting the very topic of conversation. Brok and Sindri glanced to one another. “She has been in Asgard for her entire life, has she not?”

 Mimir, peering over at the contents himself, clucked his tongue. “I wouldn’t think so, brother. The Var Goddesses have been endlessly persecuted by Odin over the centuries. I would know; he bragged about it quite fondly during our time together. He was very single minded about killing them all before they reached their full power.”

 “Huh?” Brok crossed his arms. “Whaddaya mean?”

 “The first Var goddess, some thousands of years ago, meddled in Odin’s affairs in Alfheim,” the head explained. His face contorted into one of deep thought, as if recalling the memories required him to delve into parts of his life that he was not to keen on reminiscing upon. “I only know this because I was there when it happened. Her name was Siv, and she was a Valkyrie—powerful, elusive, and angry. She… was not happy with some of the things he was doing, so she stepped in before things could go too far. In theory, anyway.”

 “The first?” Kratos rumbled. 

 “Aye, brother, the first. The Var goddesses go through a cycle of rebirth not unlike that of the phoenix, but it’s been so long that I’ve nearly forgotten how it came to be that way.” Mimir turned his gaze towards the book again. “But as I was saying, Siv intervened during one of Odin’s broken vows. The Var goddesses are not evil beings, you must know, and are more like—“

 “The peace keeper or executioner,” the god of war interrupted. “Atreus explained this to me.”

 “Yes well, that’s not exactly… correct.” Mimir hesitated. “It’s more along the lines of ‘if you break my vows, I will destroy your soul’. See, Odin was threatened by this—Siv could take a soul and dessicate it more thoroughly than any ounce of seidr I have ever seen. There would be no afterlife, no peace for them when she killed them. She was the bastardization of a Valkyrie and her sisters despised her for it.”

 Sindri’s brow furrowed. He sat down at the table, rolling a wire brush between his hands. “I didn’t know this part. Lady Var, she… explained she was bound by the oath and no other.”

 “And she was telling the truth, lad, as much as she could of it. I imagine Odin isn’t working on the full idea of things,” Mimir soothed. Kratos huffed. “Bound by oaths, yes, but only the ones she makes with herself or the ones she chooses to observe. If you could trap a Var goddess you would have a veritable power source in your hands; each of them has a special gift more different than the last. More special as the years go on and they are reborn into something new.” 

 Kratos lifted the book and stared at the charcoal drawing. Nothing discerning stood out to him except for the artistic rendition of the dress she wore. “And she is with Odin now.”

 “Bein’ married, yeah.” Brok lifted his cup of ale and saluted the air mockingly. “The All-Fucker knows he needs to keep ‘er there, so he binds ‘er up with marriage vows to Heimdall so she can’t leave.”

 “Oh dear.” Mimir’s eyes widened. “He’s marrying her to Heimdall?”

 “Yes, when she came here she had been crying, and had bruises around her throat,” Sindri explained softly. His gaze was far away, fixated on the stool across from him where you had sat previously, eating the food and drink they had given you with gusto. “She said he was not happy with the decision and blamed her for it.”

 “Bunch’a hogwash, the whole thing!” The blue dwarf slammed his drink down, sending droplets of alcohol flying into the air. “She ain’t done nothin’ to deserve this!”

 “In Odin’s mind, she very well may have. He despises those he can’t keep under his all-knowing thumb.” Mimir paused. “Though, lads, I don’t truly know how we can help her from here.”

 A silence seeped over the table, impenetrable. 

 “This… goddess,” Kratos began slowly,”she is powerful, yes?”

 “Dunno. Ain’t seen her in centuries until a week ago.” Brok shrugged. “But she was doin’ some mighty strong magic ‘fore Odin snatched ‘er up.”

 “As long as she doesn’t step on any toes, she’ll be alright, my friends. She’s survived in Asgard this long, right?”

 *** 

 Heimdall trudged alongside you in the light of dawn with a scowl on his face. That punch had silenced him for all of five seconds before you were walking off, fury in your step and a fine tremor in your fingers. Odin’s decision to have him supervise you was a foolish one, especially if he was going to open his mouth as he was and mock every little thing you did along the way to the beach—even stop to see the sunrise.

 “Move along, stupid girl, we have places to be. You can see the sunrise literally every day from oh, I don’t know, anywhere else.”

 You ignored him and watched as the sun peaked over the clouds. The cast of pale orange among the darkness was one of your favorite things to witness, present company not included. The little dragons snoozing on the roosts within the walls were beginning to wake, alerting the little folk to the rising of the sun and the dawn of a new day. The sunrise and sunsets in Vanaheim had been gorgeous, when Skoll and Hati would take to the sky and chase the sun and moon to their conclusions. The two wolves, the last you had heard, had been unable to complete the ritual since Odin had interfered with the altars some time ago.

 After a moment of reveling in Heimdall’s silent irritation, you entered the lift and allowed him to pull the lever to send the both of you down. You remained quiet, the knuckles of your fist still aching painfully in protest from hitting your now husband in the stomach. While he did not have the rotund belly of Thor or the sinewy musculature of Baldur, it still hurt quite a bit to hit him like that. Something in the spells on the collar was diluting some of the pain, to a degree, but when you flexed your fingers the sting came back full force.

 “Was it really necessary to hit me?”

 “Was it necessary to strangle me? Or walk out on me on our wedding night as you so expertly did. I was being pitied for days after that.”

 Heimdall deliberately avoided looking at you. “You did bite me. It was only fair, was it not?”

 “No.” The blandness in your tone forced him to look at you, then. He was mildly surprised to see you staring at him, but not completely—it was as if you were looking through him at to the sunset behind him. “I should have killed you and been done with it.”

 Something in those words made him uneasy. “Killing me would kill you, you’re aware? And you can no longer be reborn, little dog.”

 Yet your blank face remained. “Are you certain about that, gullintanni?  Would you like to put it to the test?”

 “I didn’t take you to be suicidal.”

 “That’s because I am not her.”

***

 “Brok, Sindri!” You called desperately. Yggdrasil twisted and turned endlessly, the flickering of your bodily form only momentarily hindered by the falling leaves. Each door that you passed seemed the same as the last, and you were running out of time—quickly. Leaving your body in Siv’s care had been a risk you hadn’t known you could take, but now that you had, you would do your best to warn your friends that you had been trapped more firmly than you could have anticipated. Your eyes flew to a familiar form sneaking among the branches. “Atreus!”

 He whirled around, but there was no one there. “Huh?”

 “Atreus!” 

 “Who’s there?”

 “It is I, the lady Var. I do not blame you for not remembering me, but I am running out of time. Please, listen!”

 His eyes flew to and fro, seeking your figure, but you were nowhere to be found. “How are you doing this?”

 “I have no time to explain. Tell them that Odin has bound me with the Collar of Repentance. Tell them that he has stopped my rebirth cycle. Tell them…” Your voice cracked. “Tell them that I can’t help them like I wanted to.”

 “Wait, what’s the Collar of Repentance? And what do you mean you can’t help us?!”

 “I’m sorry, Atreus.”

***

 “You’re not her,” Heimdall repeated slowly. Your eyes flickered gold, green, back to gold. “Then who are you?”

 A feral smile that was not typical of you crawled onto your face. “In time, son of Angeyja, Atla, Eistla, Eyrgjafa, Gjalp, Greip, Imðr, Jarnsaxa, and Ulfrún. In time. For now, I would enjoy the rest of the life you have left. My descendant may be bound, but I am not, nor will I ever be.”

 Heimdall stiffened at the mention of his mothers. “How do you know those names?”

 “The same way I know that you, above all, desire your father’s honest approval.” A shrug. Casually, the not-you reached behind you and pulled a shrieking green, crystalline bird from out of thin air. In one motion, your hand crushed the bird to dust, green powder lining the furs of your dress. “I’m inside you, now.”

 Before he could demand what she had meant by that—the not you—you blinked and, slowly, a confused expression stole across your face like a thief in the night. You reached up and rubbed your face with one hand, glancing around the lift. “What…?” It was soft.

 So you had been unaware of what happened, then. Heimdall narrowed his eyes as you shook your head, his gaze flying to the space that the green bird had been sitting harmlessly on the railing behind you. So the All-Father had seen it, too; but what could it have been?  What had possessed you in such a way? Whatever it had been, it made something new raise its head in the back of his mind—fear.

 You were violent, yes, but you were weak. Your only defense was having the advantage of his foresight not working on you. You had no magic, no future rebirth, only the ability to see vows and punish those who broke them. But the thing that had been behind your eyes… he had watched, felt, the power crawl out of your pores.

 It had felt like death, like darkness; a dying star.

 It had felt like annihilation.

 But now you were confused, docile, that hostile aura draining out of you to be replaced by something less… cruel. He watched the moment you realized something had happened, and your frown was more pronounced. But you did not say a word. Instead, you shook your head, rubbed your temple, and looked out among the wetlands with resignation in your eyes.

 It was something to keep an eye on. But now he had to keep his guard up, more than before; he could not mindlessly threaten you without risking whatever that had been happening again. You pulled your furs around yourself tightly, and he dismissed the thought. Father trusted him enough to keep watch over you and make sure you didn’t get in his way.

 “This way,” you said and stepped out of the lift, following a destination only you had in mind. He followed, his mind strangely quiet for once, and observed as your posture slumped and your walking grew less rigid. Outside the walls, you seemed to change—you were sullen, sulky. “Keep up.”

 And he did. Over the grasslands and streams, you led him to the shores of Asgard, where two children sat playing in the pale sand. They were young Midgardians, no older than ten or twelve years of age, and they fought each other with driftwood sticks and dirt.

 “Fight me, giant!” One boomed in an imitation of Thor. He waved the stick around as the God of Thunder would his hammer, making a face. “I will use Mjolnir and kill you where you stand!”

 The other child, a little girl, roared in defiance. “No! I, Ymir, will kill you, Aesir god!”

 Their sticks clacked together with childish skill. They moved up and down the beach, laughing and kicking up sand, and you watched with a small smile on your face as they played. The content of the things they were saying may have been dark, but they were happy—could you truly allow Ragnarok to snatch such happiness away from them? They would be Odin’s fodder, his shield against those who knew mercy and pity as a strength.

 You caught a wisp of Heimdall’s thoughts from where he stood some feet from you, leaning against a rock formation.

 … That is not how the story goes, stupid Midgardian children.

 But the story he knew was also inaccurate. You, however, too caught up in watching the children fight and play, did not stop to think too hard about the stories he had no doubt heard from Odin’s side. Instead, you watched the girl plop down into the sand, exhausted. The boy followed her willingly, tossing his stick into the water.

 “We have to do this every day, okay?” She said, sticking her arm out in offer. Her little face was screwed up in determination. “Until we get strong enough to get inside the walls. Together.”

 The boy nodded. “Right!”

 And so a promise was made. You watched the little white string blossom to life between them and observed until they eventually decided they had enough rest and moved further down the beach. Once they were well out of view, you stepped off the grass and into the sand, approaching the ocean cautiously.

 “What are you doing?” Heimdall demanded with a scowl. “You’ve observed whatever it was you came here for. Now we go back.”

 “Shut the Hel up.” You closed your eyes to the faint breeze wafting over the water. It brought you scents of salt, of rain and humidity and cold. “I have no intention of going back into those walls just for the rest of the Aesir to judge me for your wrongdoings.”

 His scowl deepened. “You are no extension of me.”

 “I agree.” You opened your eyes. The words came out unbidden. “You are a pathetic pantomime of your father. A fascimile of a god. You sit and stay, like a good boy, but I know it is only because he has no use for you other than to sit you up on that hideous wall and let you play protector. I wonder if you die, if he will ever mourn you as he did his little closer—Baldur. I think he would not.”

 “Shut your whore mouth.” Heimdall was quick to snatch you by the back of your neck, shifting his hand forward to grip your jaw. It popped threateningly under the pressure. You met his gaze without fear, feeling too bold in your words to ever allow him a victory. “You know nothing of my relationship with my father.”

 “I know enough.” You shrugged loosely. “Everyone knows how Odin sent his child up to the wall the moment he finished learning how to use his powers. The youngest child; the weakest, weaker than even the blind. Born from a fling of a union between Odin and your mothers because he could never honor them, never get over Freya. He’s a monster, and you… you are becoming just like him.”

 You stared at him, considering.

 “Odin doesn’t need another son… just another tool.”

 When you pulled away from him, he didn’t try to stop you. His hand dropped to his side as you walked away, the tiniest knot in your marriage vow unlinking. Doubt. It was small, but it was there, and even the smallest chips in the strongest wall would bring it crumbling down eventually. You would destroy his as he had destroyed yours.

 ‘Good,’ Siv spoke in your mind as you approached the lift some time later. Heimdall had not followed you, so you leaned against the railing to wait. ‘And now we begin.’

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