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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

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airhorn sounds in your ear as you try to sleep ITS FIC TIME, CHILDREN

His father’s first reaction is, predictably, nervous. They’re sitting in the living room as a family, all sort of hanging out, but doing their own thing. Hoarders is passively playing, Lydia is tucked under the couch with a book and flashlight, Emily is in the corner with her laptop, and BJ and Charles are each sitting on opposite ends of the couch, going through their phones. He gets a very sweet text from Adam, showing that the other teen has put the photo Lydia took of them in a frame, and he grins, and holds the device to his chest, feeling giddy and flustered. His dad notices. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Charles smiles, and BJ figures this is as good a time as any. “I got a text from my boyfriend.” Charles stares. From her chair in the corner, Emily’s typing slows, and then stops, as her brain catches up with that sentence. His phone pings again, and he looks back down at a message from Barbara, then back to his parents. “And my girlfriend.” Emily closes her computer. Her smile is enormous. “Shut up.” “No, seriously!” he grins back at his mother, and then notes the color Charles is going. “Adam and Barbara?” Emily asks, knowingly, and he nods. “We made it official yesterday. I took em to th’ Smallpox Hospital.” “Awww! That’s so romantic!” “You’re dating?” Charles finally finds words. “Unclench your everything, dad, jeezus.” “It’s just… do you think that’s a good idea?” “I think it’s a great idea,” BJ says, a little defensive. “What, I’m not allowed to date? M’too weird for it?” “That’s not what I meant, BJ,” Charles frowns. But he can tell it kind of is.

“Charles, honey, he’s sixteen. He’s going to date,” Emily says softly, and Charles looks back at her. “But two people at once? And they’re-” “They’re what, Chuck?” “Humans. They’re human, BJ.” “Holy shit, they are? Here I thought they were just really crappy demons.” “I just don’t know if you’ve thought this through. Wouldn’t you be happier dating another demon?” “I don’t know any other demons, dad,” he growls, temper flaring. “Unless you want me to date Sam, an’ look like a total creep, since he’s stuck at like, ten.” “Stop it, BJ.” “You stop it! Just be happy for me!” “I am.. Happy. For you.” BJ sits back, crosses his arms, and scowls. “Got a funny way of showin’ it.” His father stands, and takes to pacing. Christ. “We should lay out ground rules.” “Me an’ Adam an’ Barb did that already.” “No, I mean, house rules,” Charles says, rubbing at his beard. “Things you’re allowed to do, and not. Oh, god, first things first, I’m going to get you a box of condoms.” Betelgeuse feels himself flush, and then Lydia finally pipes up, sticking her head out from under the couch. “Gross.”

“You’re seriously blowin’ this out of proportion. We’ve barely held hands!” “I was a teenager. I remember how things escalate. The last thing we need is someone pregnant. Especially with whatever a human and a demon would make.” “Th’ anti-Christ, maybe,” he says, unhelpfully, and he sees the way his dad’s expression twists into further worry. “It was a joke! Oh my god!”

His mother, bless her, swoops in, just then. “BJ’s just told us good news,” she says, standing, and putting a hand on Charles’ arm, which stops his pacing. “I need you to reassess how you’re making him feel, right now.” Charles looks from his wife to his son. BJ rubs at his nose, embarrassed and upset, and probably purple, and he sees his father make a choice. “BJ, I’m sorry,” Charles comes over, hesitantly reaches down, and Betelgeuse responds by throwing his arms around his dad. Chuck rubs his back. “Tell me about them,” he says, “and I promise to be cool. As cool as I can be, at least.”

That’s at least something. He can tell his dad is still worried, but he does listen, as Betelgeuse describes his two partners. “We spend a lotta time together,” he tells his father. “An’ they’re both goody two shoes. Seriously, they’re borin’, nice people.” “Tell us how you met them, BJ,” Emily smiles. He regales them with the story of Barbara and the flower, and then Adam in the library, and by the time he’s done, he’s back to feeling green, all smiles and excitement and stimming hands. It feels really, really good to not be alone.

Monday comes a day too soon, and he sort of misses the atmosphere of the library, because at lunch, he’s forced to pick up trash, with Honeywell watching him intently from a bench. The only consolation prize to this is the vice principal’s time is also being wasted. He doesn’t miss how a few kids walk by and intentionally throw things at his feet for him to pick up. They don’t get away with it, though, because either they trip and find their shoelaces are mysteriously tied together, or for those unlucky ones without laces, they’ll find a snake in their lockers. The miserable part is, Adam and Barbara aren’t allowed to hang out with him while he’s working. They’d tried, and were told in no uncertain terms to leave him alone, leave him to his task, or they’d be sent to the other side of the campus to do the same thing. A little bit of punishment, he understands. But he draws the line at threatening Sexy and Babs. He’s absolutely plotting exactly how he’s going to ruin the overbearing adult’s day when he feels a strange sensation in his chest, like a slight tug. He pauses. It’s not a pain, not really, more like a pull away from himself, which doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what it is. He has to assume it’s another demon thing.

He glances at his watcher, who seems engrossed in paperwork.

Man, if only this guy would fuck off, he could be enjoying lunch with his friends- The pull away from himself is stronger, this time. He concentrates on it, and then remembers how physical the summoning of clones is, requiring a motion like he’s tossing something, and he gives that a try, this time, gently lobbing nothing at a student passing by. The kid looks surprised, and then goes rigid, and he thinks maybe he’s killed someone for the first time, but then the teen straightens up, and stands, stiff, facing him, and BJ feels mentally split, between two bodies. He raises his right hand. The student mirrors the action, eyes wide, confused. He lowers it, then kicks his leg out to the side, and again, he’s copied. Not copied.. Followed? The other student is like a marionette, and his mind is the strings, or something close to that. “Possession,” he grins, wickedly, and then he pulls himself back all to one body, and the kid falls on his ass, confused, and scrambles away.

Oh, he is so going to use this new power for evil.

“BJ Deetz! I don’t see this quad getting any cleaner!” Honeywell has looked up from his paperwork to find Betelgeuse standing there, grinning to himself, and the teen responds by spinning around, and throwing nothing at the overbearing authority figure. Honeywell also goes rigid, and BJ lifts his hands, directing the VP to stand, and the hapless adult does so. “Looks clean enough to me,” he mouths, and hears that sentence come out of Honeywell’s lips. “Clean enough to eat offa!” With a swiping motion, he forces the man to knock his own hardly touched lunch to the ground, and then BJ crouches low, and the adult follows, shoving his face into what was clearly leftovers from some night’s dinner, and coming back up with a mouthful of noodles and dirt. The big man’s eyes are wide. He’s scared, confused. It’s thrilling. With a hand motion, BJ forces the breather’s face back into the mess of food and dirt, and doesn’t let him up until the muffled cries become truly panicked. Possession out in public might be a bit too noticeable, though, because there’s a gathering group of kids watching what the teacher is doing, their phones out, taking video, and he doesn’t need them connecting his own strange movements back to Honeywell’s. He makes a final hand motion, releasing the adult, and shoves his hands in his pockets, just in time for Adam and Barbara to appear as faces in the crowd. Honeywell, freed, sits up, coughing and sputtering, and looking horrified. “What the heck happened?” Adam asks, and BJ shrugs. “He started throwin’ a fit, outta no where,” he lies, but he feels the vice principal watching him, staring up from the dirt, where he’s still sat, dazed. He gives the adult a grin. “Totally fuckin’ weird.”

The rest of his lunch period is freed up, suddenly, as Honeywell goes to clean himself off in the men’s room.

This fun new ability requires further testing, but not right now, now when Adam and Barbara are around. Soon, though. Very soon. “I’m really bummed we can’t be in the library anymore. I tried to pop in to grab something this morning and the librarian chased me out.” Adam looks genuinely sad, at that, which startles BJ out of his downright vicious thoughts. “By the way,” Adam adds, “They put up the casting sheet today. Want to guess who got that dentist part?” Barbara is grinning wide. “Me?” he croaks. A few other kids tried for it.. He didn’t think he’d get picked, honestly, thought that maybe someone more likable, or more friendly, would be chosen over him, but Barbara squishes his cheeks in her hands. “You!” she cheers, and he blushes. “You’re going to be amazing! But that means,” she tells him, suddenly serious, “-that you have to actually try.” He nods, as much as he can, her hands still on either side of his face. “Effort,” he grunts. “Got it.” She leans forward and kisses the tip of his nose. He scrambles to throw his hood over his head, and cinches it closed, knowing for a fact he’s gone pink from the tips of his hair down to the roots. “BJ?” Barbara giggles, as he peers out at her from his hood. “Should I not do that?” “NO! No, no, I, uh, just.. Warn a guy, next time.”

He hadn’t thought through the logistics of this, clearly, because he can’t be scrambling away from them every time one of them kisses him, just because his stupid hair won’t behave itself. God, he’s going to have to start wearing a beanie, or something, until he can get this color thing under control. Annoyingly, his dad was right. He really hadn’t given this much thought, beyond, Adam and Barbara pretty, wanna kiss them. Now he’s got to work out the logistics of how he’s going to actually achieve that goal, without basically, for lack of a better word, outing himself. He doesn’t want to think that something like what happened with Kevin could happen again, but he hadn’t really seen that situation coming, and it had ended about as poorly as a budding romance can, with parental murder. So yeah, he’s not exactly confident he can trust them with this secret. Better to keep it to himself, play his cards close to the chest, not let them all the way in. That’s safest for all of them. Good plan, BJ, he thinks to himself, watching Barbara dust wood shavings out of Adam’s hair, a leftover byproduct of his shop class. No one gets hurt. No one has to know anything. He can keep playing human with his cute new partners for as long as they’ll let him.

Stretching before him, suddenly, he foresees a lifetime, several lifetimes actually, given the span of existence for a demon, lifetimes full of deceit and lies and partners who age without him, and it all makes him very tired, and sad. This is going to be how it is, he realizes. He’s going to pretend and mimic and do his best to fit himself into a template that he wasn’t made for, and he’s presumably going to be doing it forever, maybe until the minute the last human takes their last breath, because playing human is as close as he can get. It's easier to play pretend, throw a glamour on and act along, than to be himself and risk the pain and rejection, or the truth that maybe his worth is tied into what he can do, not who he is. It all leaves him dizzy, this sudden moment of unwanted clarity. He pushes it down, far down at it can go, to somewhere deep in his chest, and tries to come back to this moment, right now, because his boyfriend is looking at him. “You going to stay in that hood all day, shy guy?” Adam smiles, and BJ peels the hood back, and runs a hand through the mop of green mess that passes for his hair, and smiles, like he didn’t just have a mini existential crisis in the middle of a Monday afternoon. “What do you guys do for lunch when you’re not being wooed by an errant library assistant?” Betelgeuse forces an extra bit of pep that he doesn’t feel into his voice, and Barbara brightens. “You can come meet my friends!” She says, and he lets her lead him by the hand, across the quad, a corpse playing pretend at being alive, holding hands with the living.

They find Barbara’s friends at the lunch tables. He’s never sat over here, never really had reason to be over here at all, actually, because each table is always claimed by a friend group, and he’s never felt welcome enough to try and squeeze in with any of them. But he sort of has a group now, he supposes. If three can be a crowd, it can be a group. He does feel eyes on him as he’s directed on where to sit by Barbara, other kids at other tables watching him, maybe confused on how he’s ingratiated himself enough to actually have a place to sit. Barbara arranges where they sit, seemingly very intentionally, with herself between Betelgeuse and Adam, and Allison and Blair on the other side of the table, and they begin eating. The air is a little tense. He picks at his lunch, leftovers Charles packed for him. It smells amazing, but he doesn’t want to scarf it all down, not when he’s feeling watched, the way he is. And he is being watched, very intently so, by Barbara’s friends, who are apparently also Adam’s friends. Everyone but him seems to know so many other people. It’s almost insane, like, how do they keep them all straight? He’s only vaguely aware of which one of these similar white girls is Blair, because he’s spoken to her, at least once. Allison might as well be a balloon with a face painted on it. “So,” Blair puts down her fork. She’s eating a dry salad with little chunks of chicken in it, low carb, low cal. He’d be worried for her health if he gave a shit. “So,” he copies her instinctively, tilting her head the same way she does, holding his hands in front of himself in a mirror of her own movements. Barbara catches what he’s doing, and gives his arm a gentle pinch. “Is this for real?” Blair isn’t asking him, she’s looking between Adam and Barbara, who are both looking a little surprised at the sudden question. “What do you mean?” Adam asks, unsure, and Blair gestures between the three of them. “This whole.. This! When Barbara said she suddenly had two boyfriends, I had to check my calendar, make sure it wasn’t April Fool’s. And then it turns out to be you and..” Her eyes fall back on Betelgeuse. “Him. You, Adam, I get. You and Barbara together, that makes sense. But, like, BJ?” “Sure, if you’re offerin’,” he says, and Blair makes a face. Go on over to Ao3 to read the rest!! There's more waiting for your hungry eyes over there

#beetlelands fic #goldenbeetle #beetlejuice #adam maitland #barbara maitland #lydia deetz #charles deetz #emily deetz #beetlejuice fanfiction #my writing

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bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

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“Hermione vs. Draco” || YEAR 3 – Ch.30 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 11/3/2020

Word count: 3, 254

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather sat with Harry on the grass and looked over at Ron and Hermione talking – or more like Hermione talking on and on and Ron nodding his head every once in a while – which was a huge relief. It only took Hermione apologizing and Ron was instantly all “Oh, he was only a rat. I’ll get another not so old one now, or maybe an owl – they’re much better.”

The whole class was waiting on further instruction from Hagrid besides just feeding the Salamanders dried twigs, but Hagrid was even less himself after the hearing. Harry tried talking to him during the start of the lesson, but Hagrid refused, not wanting to burst out crying in front of everyone.

The bells rang in the distance and the whole class got up, picked up their Salamanders and dumped them in the fire. Heather stayed by the fire, watching them curl up and nap while Hermione and Harry convinced Hagrid to walk them back to the castle.

“It was awful,” Hagrid croaked, holding back tears. “All those black robes… sittin’ there, lookin’ down at us. S’all my fault, it was. I kep’ droppin’ me notes an’ got all tongue-tied an’ – OH – an’ then Lucius Malfoy takes the stand an’ said his bit, an’ the committee jus’ did exac’ly what he told ‘em to do… So they… they gave Beaky a final date…”

“It’s not fair. Those doddery old fools shouldn’t be on the committee if they can be so easily scared by Malfoy’s dad.” Hermione teared up and shook her head.

Ron ran ahead and jumped on a rock at the top of the hill. “Hagrid! You can still save him with the appeal! This time we’ll all really help and – ”

“Lucius Malfoy won’t let the committee change their minds. I jus’ have tuh make sure the time Beaky has left is a good one. I owe ‘im that… s’cuse me – ” Hagrid broke off and hurried back down the hill towards his cabin.

“Look at him! The blubbering oaf.” Draco came out from behind the castle doors with Crabbe and Goyle laughing just behind him.

Heather ran up the last small hill to the castle steps and faced Draco. “Leave it alone. You may not care about Hagrid or Buckbeak but I do, and them, and so many other students. And it’s YOUR fault.” Heather jabbed his shoulder, forcing him to step back.

“Sorry, Potter. But it’s just so funny! I’ve never seen anything quite so pathetic.” He turned around to Crabbe and Goyle. “Have you?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had climbed the rest of the hill quickly and stopped next to Heather, except for Hermione who continued forward and smacked Draco across the face in one long swoop of her extended arm.

“Hermione!” Heather’s hands covered her mouth, not sure whose side to take now or who to be mad at. If Ron had been the one to hit Draco, Hermione would be giving him an angry talking to already.

Draco staggered back and was caught by Goyle before he could trip. He pushed off him and stood, astounded and scared at Hermione, who looked ready for another go.

“Do NOT call Hagrid Pathetic! Ever! It’s all YOUR fault you – you foul – evil – “ Hermione went for another smack.

“Hermione!” Ron caught her arm.

Heather held her back as she tried pushing them away.

“Get off!” Hermione broke free and pulled out her wand, surprising Draco and leaving him frozen in place with fear. “Don’t ever call Hagrid pathetic!”

“L-let’s go.” Draco turned and hurried into the school with Crabbe and Goyle at his heels.

“Nice Hermione!” Ron held out his hand for a high five and Hermione laughed, giving him one.

“That wasn’t very wise, Hermione.” Heather crossed her arms.

“It’s the wisest thing she’s done all year.” Harry smirked and ran from Hermione’s punch. “Save it for Malfoy!”

Heather was unamused but Ron and Hermione laughed, which was nice to hear after so many weeks of them being angry with each other. They followed Harry inside.

“I’m sorry to say, Heather, but I do hope Harry wins the final Quidditch match against Slytherin. I can’t stand Malfoy winning another thing.”

Heather re-crossed her arms. “Not forgiven. I want to win, not lose just because Malfoy’s on my team.”

Ron made a loud nose. “Oh, don’t you two start now.”

The castle corridors were full of students running to their classrooms. They jogged passed several groups of chattering fifth and seventh years and climbed the stairs all the way up to the charms classrooms. They waved to Ginny quickly as she passed them in the halls on her way to Herbology and reached Professor Flitwick’s class with minutes to spare.

“I like when we’re not late.” Ron pulled on the door and held it open for them.

Heather and Harry walked in and took their normal seats, waiting for Ron and Hermione to take the ones in front of them, but only Ron sat down a minute later.

“Where did Hermione go?” Ron looked around the room. “She wasn’t in the corridor.”

Heather looked towards the door. Several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs entered the class along with a few Slytherins and Gryffindors, but Hermione never stepped through. The bells rang and Professor Flitwick took his little podium.

“Now, let’s start on Cheering Charms. Everyone – wands out – we’re already into pairs – er, Mr. Weasley, pair with Mr. Longbottom – and let’s begin.”

“Maybe you should go check the bathrooms?” Harry whispered to Heather between swishes.

“And miss class like she’s doing? We’ll find her later.” Heather followed Professor Flitwick’s instructions perfectly and within minutes she was able to do a minor cheering charm, earning her praise in front of the class.

Several attempts later and she was able to perform the full cheering charm, second to a Ravenclaw across the room who always fought with Hermione for first place. The Ravenclaw gave her a look of triumph but it was Heather who took extra points for helping Ron, Harry, Neville, and the two other Slytherins in the room to complete the charm.

After class they went to lunch and split up. Heather sat at the Slytherin table and was soon joined by Draco and even more unfortunately, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

“Draco!” Heather smiled and took a bite of her ham sandwich, the mustard was extra good on it that day – although everything seemed better under the effects of a cheering charm. “Have you done anything to Hermione?”

“No.” He sat down and looked Heather up and down.

“Cheering Charm.” Heather said and Draco nodded in understanding.

His brows furrowed. “If she thinks she’ll get away with – ”

“Of course she won’t. We should tell on her. Get her detentions for the rest of the year. I mean, first your attacked by a wild creature and then by a stupid Gryffindor?” Pansy added a large glop of salad dripping in dressing onto her plate.

“Or, we can focus on winning the final Quidditch match. Gryffindor won against Ravenclaw which puts them at second place right now. If they beat us, then we tie and the Quidditch cup doesn’t go to anyone.” Heather finished her lunch and moved on to the pies for dessert, cutting off a small slice.

“What’s that go to do with Granger?” Draco pointed to his puffy cheek. “I want her to pay.”

“And she wants to see you lose. So win and rub it in her face.” She didn’t like encouraging Draco to gloat, especially not to her friends, but it was better than letting him get Hermione in trouble. The cheering charm wore off mid apple pie bite and she winced at how sweet it was. “Don’t try the pie.”

“Flint says he has a plan. A good one.” Draco tried looking confident and hopeful.

“Well. Good then.” Heather stood and left the great hall, heading into the girl’s bathroom. “Hermione?” she called out, looking under several stalls for Hermione’s shoes but there was no one there at all. She walked out and saw Harry and Ron leaving the great hall and ran up to them. “She’s not in the bathroom. We should check your common room – and before you ask. No, Malfoy hasn’t turned her into a shrimp and hidden her away or anything at all. She’s missing all on her own.”

They headed up the entrance stairs and down the main corridor. As they started up the stairs to the higher floors, Ron began listing other possible ways Draco could have gotten to her, one way involving Crabbe turning into a giant bird and swooping down and taking her into his talons. They walked up to Gryffindor tower debating the logistics of that scenario – Ron adamant that Crabbe would turn into a BIG bird because of his size and not just a regular sized bird because of the spell.

“Flibbertigibbet” Harry said loud enough for Heather to hear.

“Not so loud,” the fat lady hissed, sensitive to both Heather and possibly a very dangerous Sirius Black hearing it. “I’m changing it again tonight… Just to be sure.” She opened up.

Ron and Harry walked in through the hole While Heather stood just outside, watching them approach a distant lump of frizzy brown hair fast asleep around a tower of books. They poked Hermione awake and began talking – Hermione seemed frantic and upset.

“Hurry up!” Heather called in. “Divination is in ten minutes!”

Hermione stuffed all her books in her bag and came running out ahead of Ron and Harry. “I’ll meet you guys there! I need to talk to Professor Flitwick!” She turned and ran down the stairs towards the charms classrooms.

“She said she forgot to go.” Ron came out of the hole and crossed his arms. “But she was right behind us.”

Heather chewed on her finger the whole way up to the Divinations classroom in thought. Hermione was definitely keeping something, and she needed to know what. She couldn’t believe Hermione was actually possibly keeping a secret from all of them. It was different from her own secret about helping Draco over the summer, that time was once but Hermione has been going on with her secret all year.

They reached the ladder and Hermione joined them almost immediately, looking out of breath.

“Oh Heather, tell me you got the Cheering Charm down. Flitwick hinted at it being on the exams!” Hermione brushed down her hair and sighed with relief as Heather nodded her head.

“Of course I did. And I earned five points for Slytherin while doing so. If you think Slytherin’s going to lose the house cup, that’s one-hundred-and-fifty-five points you need to make up before the last match… And counting.” Heather smiled and climbed the ladder, ignoring Harry as he silently mocked her.

The second Heather stepped in the room she was engulfed in that familiar awful mist that made everything go blurry and hazy. She found her usual seat in the far back of the room at the table above Harry’s and Ron’s. Hermione took the seat opposite her and they all sat waiting for Professor Trelawney to appear from behind a curtain or from inside a cabinet looking all mysterious.

“Look at these crystal balls!” Ron turned to them and held it up to his face, making it look all wonky and distorted through the glass. “Thought we weren’t starting this until fourth year.”

Harry took the ball and set it down on its holder. “Shh. I was getting tired of seeing her flinch every time she saw my hands. I’m scared to sneeze in here in case it sounds like the grim to her.”

Heather laughed. “Your sneezes do sound kind of barky.”

“Shut it.”

“Well as long as crystal balls aren’t on the exams, I don’t care.” Hermione shook her head. “I can’t deal with much more of all this nonsense.”

They all raised their brows at Hermione, but before she could respond, Professor Trelawney appeared from behind the large stack of teacups in the corner.

“Good day! Good, good day to everyone.” Her voice was misty and almost sing song-y as she stepped out and addressed the class. “I was checking the Fates and had seen that the art of the Orb would be on your exams in June, and so we will begin Crystal Gazing early! I am anxious to give you sufficient practice with it.”

Hermione’s hand was up in the air instantly. “But Professor, don’t YOU set the exams?”

Ron and Harry chocked back laughs while Professor Trelawney turned away and hummed loudly.

“Crystal Gazing is a very perfected art. It takes years of practice for many capable wizards – and on the very rare occasion, those particularly gifted with the Sight, can come to see things within a matter of months. I do not expect anyone here to be able to See into the Orb’s infinite depths of wisdom on their first try.”

Professor Trelawney took her seat in her large chair and brought her legs up, crossing them under her layers and layers of skirt fabric. She looked like a monstrous creature, half pile of laundry, half human.

Professor Trelawney breathed out slowly and continued. “We shall first start …with relaxing the conscious mind while keeping our external eyes closed. …This will allow for the Inner Eye to open …and let you into your superconscious – should anyone start Seeing, please speak up!”

Ron’s head was on his table and his shoulders shook uncontrollably with suppressed laughter. Harry was biting down on his wrist and Heather was gripping her chair’s arms so tight she thought her fingers would pop off. Heather looked around and up behind her Neville caught her eye and gave her a face of such extreme confusion that she thought she’d burst out laughing. Hermione was looking like she’d just been murdered with boredom – or hoping to be.

After several not so silent minutes, they began Crystal Gazing by just staring into the crystal orbs and waiting to see anything at all. Heather cleared her mind and looked at the mist swirling and then stilling. Every time she cleared her mind the mist would swirl and then the second Hermione tutted right across from her, the mist would still.

“Would you mind keeping your tutting to yourself?” Heather sat up straight and looked deeper into the orb. The mist swirled into a large spiral, slow and steady as if stirred by a spoon. It went on for several minutes, growing slower. Heather was feeling her eyes going blurry in what she thought could be the start of a hypnotic trance as the misty swirl expanded. It sparkled slightly and the center seemed to still as the mist around it turned clockwise and –

“Tuh. It’s just mist being misty.”

“Has anyone Seen anything yet?” Harry whispered.

“I thought I had seen my Grandma, but it turned out I was just too close to the crystal,” Neville whispered back.

“Oh hold on!” Ron whispered excitedly, looking at the crystal. “I see… I see… That someone’s burnt the table cloth there with a knocked over candle.” He pointed.

Heather couldn’t help but give him a small giggle.

“What a waste of time,” Hermione hissed. “I could be studying for Charms. I could be practicing something actually useful like the Cheering Charm.”

They hushed as Professor Trelawney came shuffling passed asking students if they needed help ‘interpreting the shadowy portents within the Orbs’.

“It’s obvious what it means, isn’t it?” Ron whispered. “There’ll be loads of fog tonight.”

Heather, Harry, Hermione,and Neville behind them burst out laughing. Ron’s ears went red but he grinned wide until Professor Trelawney stopped at the bottom of their row right in front of him.

“Why are you disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations of this room? Let me see here.” She looked down into Ron and Harry’s crystal orb.

Harry looked back at Heather and she rolled her eyes, knowing just as well as he that Professor Trelawney was about to see the Grim in the mist. And sure enough –

Professor Trelawney clutched at her wooden beads. “My dear…” she breathed. “It grows closer… Nearer and nearer… the Gr – !”

“The Grim!” Hermione yelled, exasperated. “Oh of course! Why predict the results of the Gryffindor Slytherin match, or the results of Harry’s exams, or what he’ll have for dinner when you can just predict the ridiculous Grim every day.”

“They are not predictions,” Lavender Brown growled. “They are truth.”

“Not guesses,” Parvati joined in.

Hermione huffed at them.

“My dear. Since you stepped foot in my class it has been clear that you do not have what the noble art of divination requires in order to See into the beyond.” Professor Trelawney tisked. “I have never met a student whose mind is so hopelessly and irreversibly mundane.”

Heather closed her gaping mouth and looked at Hermione, who was not having a good day by any means.

“Fine!” Hermione stood and shut ‘Unfogging the Future’, cramming it in her bag. “Fine!” she repeated, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Then I’m leaving.” She stomped across the classroom and turned. “Let me guess, next topic is flames, and with my SIGHT I predict you’ll predict THE GRIM for Harry.” She turned and kicked the trap door open and climbed down the ladder.

For several minutes the whole class was talking. Heather convinced Neville to be her partner, leaving the Hufflepuff he was partnered with alone, and Ron and Harry wondered if Hermione would come back. Heather doubted it.

Suddenly Lavender stood up and quickly found Professor Trelawney stoking the fire and adding more herbs to make the room mistier. “Professor! You saw this! You saw her leaving! ‘Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever’! You said that first day of class!”

Professor Trelawney gave a small smile. “Oh yes, I knew Miss Granger would leave us. That is the burden of the Inner Eye… however, sometimes one hopes to have mistaken the Signs.”

The bells rang and class was over. They packed their things and headed down the ladder.

Harry leaned in to her. “You don’t think me seeing the Grim has anything to do with her seeing the Grim do you?”

Heather shook her head. “I saw that cloud Grim during your match and I haven’t ever seen the Grim in the classroom so… I would guess no.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Heather sighed and shrugged. “I really don’t know.”

They didn’t see Hermione all day after Divination, not even during dinner. Heather hadn’t heard anything about Hermione until Draco arrived late to dinner holding his other cheek in his hand.

“Easter Holidays we’re practicing EVERY DAY. I told Flint we should and he agreed.” He let go of his cheek to grab his cup and exposed his red and slightly swollen cheek.

“W…what happened there?” Heather could almost see fingers marked on his skin.

“Nothing. I heard Granger was told she was too muggle for Divination so I told her not to blame her parents for making her weaker than the rest of us and she slapped me.” He turned to Pansy who started defending him instantly.

“I would have hit you harder.” Heather decided she could let Hermione’s smack slide one last time, although she guessed there wouldn’t be any more after now. Surely Draco had learned his lesson about messing with Hermione after that second, much heavier slap. “So double practices starting tomorrow?”

“Early morning.”

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction

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justjessame · 3 years

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Glorious, Before the Burden - The Mourning ~ 8

I’d hardly had a moment to settle into my new home when my first gift arrived. Crying myself to sleep hadn’t worked, not that I’d expected it to, so I was in the small garden - staring up at the night sky when I felt it - a shift like a whisper. Turning around, there it was - a small casket, but I could feel her magic around it - Frigga’s magic.

Tempted to ignore it, or better yet to destroy it, I took a deep breath and reconsidered. Perhaps this was a peace offering. Frigga had been like a mother to me for far longer than she’d been an enemy - so I crouched in the soft grass and reached out, smiling despite myself at the warmth coming off the wood. So like her, as if she was in the garden with me, waiting with her arms open.

Inside, when I opened it, were my dearest belongings - books, jewels, nightgowns - along with enough Midgardian currency to be comfortable for, well I’d have to do some research on how long I could make do with it - and tucked underneath it all was another letter.

Sigyn ~

I know that what I’ve done is unforgivable. Taking away a part of you that is ingrained in your very fiber to keep a peace within my OWN marriage isn’t something I took lightly, not when I know that it will keep you separated from YOUR love.

When I told you that Loki was many things, but never malicious, I wasn’t lying - I still don’t think I am. Being led astray can happen so easily, especially after not being given the truth - and I did tell you how admirable your honesty was and still is - how your husband’s family should revere you for it. Instead you’ve been punished harshly and by me.

As I’ve said, I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’m sending along your things, not all of them at once, since the Bifrost is still inoperable. It took immense power to send YOU, much less these items - but I will try to send more, as time and magic allows. I do hope that you find solace, if not peace where you are - no matter how inconstant that may sound.

He’s home, a prisoner for his crimes, but he IS home. And I’m only allowed to visit him through illusions. Home, safe, alive, caged - and grieving the loss of you.

Frigga

I didn’t understand. Most of her words made sense - she was trying to make amends, while admitting that she chose the lesser of evils - my banishment and the removal of any possibility of Loki finding me, should he somehow escape his imprisonment for whatever crimes he committed, but the last part confused me.

Loki grieved the loss of me. The husband I knew and loved would never simply give up on me because he was locked away. He wouldn’t have taken the news that I was banished - even if they refused to tell him where and that they’d removed the ease of his usual course of finding me - and feel defeated by it. To grieve me, to act as if - NO. The feeling of suffocation kept hitting me, and it seemed to always originate from Frigga’s hand.

The ONLY way I could think of for Loki, my husband, to GRIEVE my loss, to feel defeated by it, and to give up - was if they told him I was dead.

I’d been in Midgard days, mere days, the casket having arrived the night of my arrival and I had unpacked it - put away my things, including the hair picks that Loki had given me and even gone out among my new neighbors to find food and drink, and also add to my wardrobe - magic was wonderful, but I wanted to see precisely what I was supposed to be wearing. I contemplated burning Frigga’s letters, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it - these parchments with the dark ink written in her hand, were the ONLY fragments I had left of her. And even after everything I’d gone through - she was my teacher and my mother.

I was in the cottage, one of my favorite books open and a cup of tea next to me where I’d curled up in the chair that I’d claimed as my most comfortable when a knock came to my door. Thinking of all the very kind and rather personable Midgardians that populated the small village I’d landed in, I marked my place and got up, checking the ornaments I’d added to the twist I’d put my hair in - Loki’s warnings about safety loud and clear now that I WAS living in Midgard.

Looking out the lacy curtain that covered the glass portion of the door, I saw a tall, dark man wearing leather and sporting an eyepatch that brought Odin to mind. My confusion grew, but then he flashed a smile and a golden badge. “Director Nicholas Fury, ma’am,” the door stayed closed as he spoke through it. “I’m with S.H.I.E.L.D.” I waited for him to give me further explanation. “That stands for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.” Blinking at him, his smile didn’t falter. “As an Asgardian who crash landed in the middle of nowhere-shire England, I think you should let me in.”

Asgardian - I sighed. He knew. Unlocking my door, I turned the knob and stepped back to allow him entry. There were others, I could see, ringing my little cottage - “Could you please, ask your -” I groaned when I noticed one of the men stomping through one of the bushes. “Please, don’t destroy the garden!”

Director Fury raised his eyebrow at my tone, but glanced outside and shook his head. “Guys, stand down!” He sounded bored. “I apologize, Miss?”

I glanced up at him, and then back to where his people were starting to retreat - I waited until I could assess the damage and once I was satisfied it wasn’t beyond repair, I returned to the topic at hand. “Miss what?”

He looked bemused. “Your name?” I sighed. “You dropped out of the sky in a flash, three days ago and - let’s just say that’s cause for concern.”

“Why?” I stared up at him. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” Aside from the compulsion to get the cottage, which I have paid for - once the casket came from Frigga and I COULD pay.

He studied me as if he couldn’t decide if I were lying or if I were ignorant. “We had a situation -” Pulling one of the tiny boxes that all my lovely neighbors had held when I first woke from his pocket, he pressed something and then turned it so I could watch -

So I could watch Loki, my Loki run amok - I watched, but I couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t - he would never - Loki wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t hateful or - Seeing him remove a man’s eye, watching him force a crowd to kneel, witnessing the destruction and ruin - I realized he COULD and he DID.

“You didn’t know?” I couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t I - “WHOA,” Director Fury caught me, and then I was sitting in the chair, he was kneeling before me. “You are VERY pale -”

“I -” gasping wasn’t helping. Why was the air too thick? “He -”

“You know him?” I shook my head, no, I didn’t know HIM. Not that Loki. “Are you -”

“Oy, who’re you?” That voice, why was it so familiar? “What’re yer doin’ in ‘ere?”

“Now wait a minute,” Fury was on his feet, but I couldn’t focus, not when the images were flickering through my mind - against the Loki I knew - the soft one who held me and played in the bath with me. “How did you get past my -”

“Dos wankers?” The voice snorted. “Told ‘em what I’ll tell you, she’s my granddaughter, and ye’ll do well ter go.”

“I think you and I both know -” I shook it off, the pain and the confusion - I needed to get him out and away - NOW.

“He’s right,” I nodded, looking up to see that it was my rescuer. The elderly man, kind and smiling. “Director Fury?” He glared down at me, but I had his attention, which is what I needed. “My name is Margaret Elizabeth Johns -”

“After my sainted mother,” the kindly man added, his grin growing. “HER lovely mum, and sadly her married name - she’s a widow.”

“Yes,” I sighed, infusing my voice with all the will and sincerity that I had that first day. “I’m a widow. My husband, Lucas Johns, died in a terrible accident. My grandfather -”

“Michael Griffiths,” my eyes widened, along with his smile. “I asked my girl to come closer to home.”

“He did, and somehow you got incorrect information,” standing up, I touched Director Fury’s hand. “I’m incredibly sorry that you came ALL this way for nothing.”

“For nothing,” he agreed, his eye slightly unfocused.

He left soon after, a few more nuggets and as Director I knew it would grow with my touch to the others. That left just Michael and I - but I was more than willing to have a sit down with him.

“Griffiths,” I bit my lip. “Your eyes do look familiar now that I think back.” Like Elizabeth’s, observant and eagle sharp.

“You’ve been a story passed down for so many years,” I almost called him out about his less than local accent, but I had a feeling that we all had our own secrets. “In my family, I mean.”

I got him a cup of tea and he told me how not everyone in his family had thought it true, the tale of the newlyweds who had been found at the end of a flash of light - who told a tale of woe so dramatic and traumatic that it would have done well as an offering in a penny dreadful - but were also so in love that who could find fault with them?

“I’m guessing that Elizabeth started the tale?” We were sitting in my sitting room and he nodded. “I knew she was too observant.”

“She thought you did,” his grin was still wide. “Margaret was easier to fool, but Elizabeth - well some of the family can’t be fooled.”

“Like you?” Head tilted, I was smiling with the knowledge that he hadn’t been affected by my little trick when I came to. “I can’t be angry, you just rescued me again.”

“Twats,” he bit out, and I snorted - thankful I wasn’t about to take a sip of tea. “Those S.H.I.E.L.D. types,” he shook his head. “Showing up here to try to equate you with HIM.”

It hurt, to hear even Michael consider Loki in that light, but I understood - somewhat. “Yes, imagine that.”

#loki x sigyn #loki #loki series #sigyn #alternate universe #angst #bear with me

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arizaluca · 6 years

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Just read your mcsm stories today and OH MAN they’re so well-written!>w

Ah, thank you! I’m really glad you like ‘em. I’ll do my best!

“ARGH!!” Xara practically let out a scream in frustration, throwing her hands into the air and almost throwing the wrench. “Notch damnit why can’t I f*cking get this right?!”

She usually wouldn’t have freaked out like that– at most, maybe muttered a swear under her breath before trying again– but having Romeo somewhere in the vicinity had torn her patience levels down to Underneath-level.

Porkchop had been very pleased when they dumped a tied-up and gagged Romeo on the ground in front of Xara, trying to talk through the gag but failing miserably.

They seemed to be even more pleased because Romeo didn’t seem to be an Admin anymore.

Normal, overly pale skin (probably because he was terrified that Xara was about to murder him, if his wide eyes were any indication), gold eyes with only the irises colored and the whites actually being white, normal t-shirt and jeans and sneakers that were a little muddy.

Five responses flashed through Xara’s head in the time that it took for her to blink slowly at Romeo, ranging from killing him on the spot to tackling him in a tight hug because holy crap it was Romeo, it wasn’t the Admin anymore, it was just her old friend.

Her old friend who killed her other old friend.

Finally, she simply stepped forward and ripped the gag off with such force that she wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if she’d ripped his tongue off along with it. “What are you doing here?”

Romeo didn’t flinch at her tone, which was so sharp you could’ve used it to cut someone’s head off, although she did see him wince. “I, uh… I came back. To fix things. Down here.”

After a short, awkward (on Romeo’s part) explanation about how, in short, Jesse had taken his powers away, and he’d decided to come back to the Underneath to help everyone out if they needed it, he finished on saying, surprisingly meekly, “Well, but, uh, that’s if you… are okay with it.”

F*ck no, I’m not okay with it. You killed my best friend.

Xara thought about vocalizing that, but in the end just let out a growl in his direction. “Don’t come within twenty feet of me. I don’t want to ever speak to you again.”

This time Romeo did flinch a little, but she didn’t care as she stalked away, his mouth opening silently as he tried to say something to her retreating back.

She didn’t care, she didn’t care, she didn’t care.

Periodically, the scavengers would stop by to give Xara random updates. Mostly letting her know if they’d discovered anything interesting (the guy in the Enderman head brightly told her that the giant Enderman had stopped showing up) or if anyone had fallen down there (no).

Rarely, they’d include a bit about Romeo, although they tended to ask before telling her in case she didn’t want to hear.

Porkchop had stopped wanting to dismember him on sight and had actually started up a small trading system with the guy. Val, Soup, and Llucy were helping Romeo figure out how to gather certain materials to build… something. (Porkchop hadn’t gotten details.) He’d helped them when the guy in the creeper head (Xara was sort of crap with names and couldn’t remember it for the life of her) had hurt his leg.

The first few times, Xara had waved it off. It’s just his way of trying to apologize. He’s hoping I’ll hear. He’s just trying to fix it and once we get comfortable he’ll just revert to being a total ass.

The next few times, she didn’t wave it off. She’d silently listen as these little things (and sometimes big things) would build up. Val no longer sent him the evil eye whenever he got too close to Llucy. He’d periodically come back with some wood or some materials that someone needed. He’d started working on the extra mobs that weren’t supposed to be in the world.

After that, Porkchop and the scavengers stopped asking if she wanted to hear. She stopped cutting them off if they started telling her.

The reports of Romeo being a nice person, not stopping being a nice person but on the contrary getting nicer at times, were starting to confuse her. And when Xara got confused, she just got pissy.

Trying to fix the Oasis was a good distraction. At least she could slam a hammer into something and claim that she was trying to fix it.

Except she’d been stuck on getting this one building right, because the logistics of this one involved too much redstone, and when she placed blocks sometimes the actual machine would screw it up or get stuck, and she had been working solidly on this for three weeks.

It had been a very long time since she’d actually done any redstone or building– about a hundred years, to be precise– and she couldn’t remember the logistics properly and she was just so out of patience at this point that she practically threw the wrench. It flew out of sight, probably lost until she went scrounging around in the ruins of her city for it tomorrow.

Or next week, or next month, forget it, she might not ever get this building back to normal at this point.

She can’t say she cares that much.

The same way you don’t care about Romeo seeming to go back to normal?

She swore loudly, voice echoing through the empty remains of her city.

Xara was so glad she could actually sleep that whenever she did, she’d just conk out. You could probably blow up a grenade outside her window and she’d just go right on sleeping.

So she’s not sure why she can’t do it tonight.

Maybe it’s stress. After all, she’s been working on this one building for what feels like ages. Maybe. But probably not.

Maybe it’s anger. She has every right to be angry, really. Romeo did something horrible, and then had the nerve to come back and apologize. As if that would ever fix anything. Too little too late. Maybe. But probably not.

Maybe it’s Romeo himself, because his behavior of late has been such a huge contrast to what she’s used to that she’s confused and irritated, she knows he’s somewhere down here but she doesn’t know exactly where, she wants to hate his guts because he killed her other best friend and he hasn’t apologized.

Maybe it’s because you haven’t let him try.

Maybe.

For whatever reason, Xara had been trying to sleep for the past three hours, but hadn’t been able to get to it. So she just sat up and looked out her window, at the building with the machine that she hadn’t been able to get right.

She blinked. Squinted. Looked again.

And then she quickly tossed the blanket aside, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and then walking out of her house, staying to the more shadowy areas as she tried to get a closer look.

When she got within thirty feet, her eyes finally accepted what she was seeing as real and not a hallucination.

There, on the building, is Romeo, frowning bemusedly at it as he raises a finger in the air, waving it around and looking like he’s doing a mental math calculation.

Xara watched as Romeo took down a few blocks from the walls she’d set up, before shifting those around, adjusting everything as he went, continually stopping and doing his mental calculations or whatever they were.

He was fixing her building for her.

His hair was messed up and looked like he hadn’t combed it in three weeks, his t-shirt was torn badly at the collar and peppered with little burn marks, his jeans looked as if he’d tossed it to a rabid wolf, and his sneakers were scorched, and even in the dim firelight surrounding everything she could see the shadows under his eyes and the unnatural pallor of his skin indicating that he hadn’t slept properly for, well, a while at least.

But he was still fixing her building for her.

Slowly, she slipped through the shadows, closer, until she was standing near the bottom of it. Romeo probably would’ve noticed if he wasn’t so intent on repairing her building for her, but he was focused on it that even when he looked up and was staring right at her at one point, he didn’t notice her.

The clock that Xara had managed to cobble together one day ticked resolutely onwards. It passed midnight, passed 3 in the morning, and was almost six AM when he finally finished, stepping down and giving a little sigh, barely ten feet from him.

“Romeo.”

He flinched in surprise, bonked his head against the wall, and then spun around to face her.

Close up, she realized he looked even worse than when she was watching him try to build this one building that she hadn’t gotten for months. There was one long scar from the corner of his eye to his chin that hadn’t been there the last time she’d spoken to him, he had a makeshift bandage that looked suspiciously like a part of his shirt wrapped around his head, soaked with almost greenish blood, his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, his lips were chapped and cracked, and he had bruising all down one arm. Not to mention he was a lot thinner than she remembered.

“Oh– uh– hi Xara– I didn’t mean– sorry, I’ll– I’ll leave–” Romeo spluttered, stumbling over his words almost sluggishly, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how speaking worked.

Xara interrupted. “Where’s this from?” She touched the corner of her eye and then traced down her cheek to her chin to indicate the scar.

Romeo stammered a bit, as if he was about to answer, but then Xara interrupted. “Never mind. When’s the last time you slept?”

“Uh…” Romeo’s gold eyes blinked slowly, before he glanced down and started counting on his fingers. He got to the the second hand before he looked confused and then started over.

Xara watched him do this three times, looking more and more confused each time, before she sighed. “And this?” she pointed at her head, the area where Romeo had wrapped his bandage.

“Zombie.” It seemed to be easier for Romeo to speak in two-syllable words at the moment, because this came out easily, as did the next two-syllable sentence. “Clawed me.”

Xara felt her eye twitch in irritation against her will. “Don’t tell me you didn’t disinfect it.”

Romeo’s lips barely twitched up at the ends. Blood immediately started leaking from a crack at the corner of his mouth, but he quickly reached up and smeared it away with one hand, the one without bruising along it. “Okay. Then I won’t tell you.”

Xara had to repress a small smile at that, which surprised her. She hadn’t expected to remember how to smile. “And let me guess, you haven’t eaten or had anything to drink for at least a day.”

“I had some water…” Romeo trailed off, eyes glazing over. He apparently couldn’t remember.

Maybe Xara couldn’t forgive him yet. And she couldn’t forget either.

But she could at least keep her former friend from running himself into the ground.

“Get some sleep. There’s a mostly-intact sofa in that house over there.” Xara jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll check on you later. I’m going to get back to it.”

Romeo opened his mouth to protest, apparently thought better of it, and let out a sigh. It devolved into a cough halfway through, each hack making his shoulders shake violently as he clapped a hand over his mouth. Some more blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth, but this time it seemed to be coming from his mouth.

What the hell had this idiot been doing?! Eating ashes?!

“And you are going to let me check and make sure you’re not killing yourself later. I don’t care how much you dislike the taste of healing potions,” Xara snapped as an afterthought.

When Romeo’s coughs finally subsided, he lowered his hand and gave Xara a weak smile, more blood leaking out of his cracked lips. “Still as much of a tough love mom as always, huh.” He let out another sigh, this time trying to keep his exhale more shallow, and nodded. “Fine. I’ll try to come out and help–”

“No. No helping. You sleep. I don’t care if you sleep for three days straight, because right now you look like a pile of crap and your body is probably about to self-destruct.”

Xara grabbed him by the shoulders, ignoring the way Romeo’s shoulders tensed slightly in surprise, before she spun him around and literally steered him into the house, grabbing a random blanket that she’d put there (sometimes she slept there too. Why do you think she knew about it?) and almost literally throwing it into his face. “I’ll be back tonight. And I want you to look like you at least slept for eight hours, got it?”

He let out a dry laugh that ended up sounding more like a smoker’s cough. “No promises.”

She made a half-joking swipe at his head, which he barely dodged under, before turning and preparing to leave.

She stopped at the threshold of the door, just for a moment. She’d forgotten to say something.

“Thank you.”

Before Romeo could say anything (actually, if he had, she would’ve turned right back around, made him lie down, and force-fed him a narcotic potion if she had to), she was out the door.

She didn’t forgive him. Not by a long shot.

But she did at least take a tiny step in that direction, and any progress is good progress.

Notch, if she’d ever said that aloud to Fred he would’ve started teasing her.

#mcsm xara #mcsm romeo #I hope this turned out like you wanted it lol I got sidetracked #mcsm fanfiction #mcsm fanfic #mcsm #minecraft story mode fanfiction #minecraft story mode fanfic #mcsm season 2 #minecraft story mode season 2 #post season 2 fic #fic #mcsm admins #mcsm underneath #request #ask #minecraftstorymode #minecraftstorymodefanfic

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imagine-mr-markus · 4 years

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.......ok I cave. I was gonna save both of these until it was all done bc one artwork specifically goes with the Nines fic I'm s t i l l editing bc it's painful and hard to concentrate on, and the other bc I still have to draw all of the flowers. And both of them bc I can't actually scan them into anything it's just me fucking around with photos to clean em up. But you know what? This blog is all about a hyperfixation so let's GOOOOO lmao!

This is obviously the Nines piece meant to go with the fic im working on titles The Dead Walk Behind, and as such the flowers represent that.

Not in any particular order there are:

Chrysanthemums (white): truth

Black Eyed Susans: Justice

Forget-me-knots: p obvious but Remembrance

Aloe (both plant and flowers): grief, affection, healing.

Willow (weeping): sadness

Monkshood: warning, danger

Oleander: caution, watchfulness

Bittersweet: truth

Columbine (red and purple): Anxiousness, trembling, resolution

Gladiolus (flower and budding stem): remembrance, strength

Marigold: despair, grief, jealousy

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I think that's all of them for poor Nines. Flowers are harder to draw than I thought they would be 😔, and Monsieur Dechart's face is real hard to put on paper I'll tell you that. All told I spent 9.5 hours nearly consecutively on RK900 there, and he was supposed to be up here with that fic for 9/9, but we saw how that went but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Tbh I might go back and darken the backdrop square bc it did help with the shading a lot on the second venture to the artistic realms. I also wanted to do more of them just bc I like to draw and flowers are a fun challenge and I'm apparently a fuckin masochist so next up was my precious babe Mr Markus the Robot Jesus himself. Like I said, I haven't put the flowers in his yet, but I might as well list em while I've got the list up, no?

This is him all hopefully alright looking. I'm not 100% happy with him, and I'll probs tweak him a bit before I set this later with fixative and start the flowers, but considering all of you on this blog saw my first ever attempt at painting, which was also my first foray into trying to set Mr. Williams there onto the page, I'm happier than I was. I did go for a more growing out sort of look on his hair bc idk I like the Fluff and it's actually easier for me to logistically wrap my head around than fucking stubble, but I digress. So yes we have a fluffy man's but no flowers, but these are the flowers I'll hopefully be able to cram into the page. If not.......the cluster flowers go first 😒.

Acanthus: fine art, artifice

Angelica: Inspiration

Bay Tree: Glory

Begonia: beware, dark thoughts

Black Eyed Susan: Justice

Butterfly Weed: Let me Go

Calla Lily: beauty

Chamomile: patience in adversity

Columbine: Resolution

Dill: Powerful against evil

Edelweiss: Courage

Holly: Foresight

Hyssop: Sacrifice

Iris: a message

Yellow Jasmine: grace, elegance

Oak: Strength

Savoury: spice, interest

Tansy: Declaring War

Valerian: Readiness

Zinnia: remembrance of absent friends

And yeah, that's about it for my check in, sorry 😅. This was mainly meant to be a requests blog to help keep me motivated to write but I'm still flying solo so I got distracted by Pencils lmao. Anyways, I'll be back with either more art or some writing reasonably soon. Peace outski, guys, gals, and fellow non binary pals ✌🏼

#not 100% on the greyscaling on Markus' skin and will probs tinker with it #but this is all a learning curve and y'all are either gonna help me learn watch me learn or learn with me #ngl tho I'm p proud of my first forays into pencil portraits since the absokute FIRST one back in like.....idk March?#and yeah just as a fun fact I DID search quite a lot in order to accurately place Nines moles n freckles #as well as Monseignor Metalliqué's generally beard placement #so......yeah I didn't know how I felt about this information so now you get to decide how you feel about it lmao #also just a personal aside but MR WILLIAMS PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY JUST O N E PHOTOSHOPT FROM A DIFFERENT ANGLE!!!!#YOU DONT /HAVE/ A BAD SIDE SO P L E A S E MAKE LIFE JUST A LEEDOL BIT EASIER WHEN IM TRYIN TO FIGURE OUT HOW YOUR STUPIDLY PRETTY FACE WORKS #anyways #dbh markus #DBH nines #flower language #detroit: become human #my art #pencil art #bryan dechart #jesse williams #tbh I feel weird adding ppl as tags but c'est la vie I suppose ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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mobsterkara · 7 years

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okay so since @starcrossed-comets doesn’t tag me when she talks about me, I’m a lil late to the party, but im still gonna respond to this post she made (imma just copy and paste but I have receipts if any of you want em) because this is just.. ridiculous honestly.

‘I know everyone here have had heard about the drama involving me and some anti. Here’s my side of the story. If anyone is trying to offend me the first thing I’ll do is to defend myself. Trying to hurt me by talking about my fave and comparing it to yours, will not get sympathy from me. I’m not going to apologize for what I did when I’m the one who got provoked on the situation. Poke the tiger and the tiger will bite back. And to the antis who don’t like to be called out names. Maybe you should do the same too and stop calling out me names just cause you don’t like my ship. Respect goes both ways. I’m not going to bow down to some haters just cause I hurt their feeling. cause when you think of it none of them apologize when they attack and bullied me and hurt my feelings.

No one apologize to me when they called me homophobic -I’m a trans woman No one apologize to me when they called me white racist cis - I’m Filipino born from a Chinese mother and a Spaniard dad No one apologize to me when they called me a nazi sympathizer - my grandma was a WWII survivor who almost became a comfort woman to Japanese soldiers when they invaded Philippines No one apologize to me when they called me abuse apologist - I just escape a 10 years toxic abusive relationship and I’m still recovering from it No one apologize to me when they called a rape apologist - I was rape by my filthy landlord when I was 18 and no one was there to help me Ok not saying this to get sympathy. I’m saying this so I can explain why I reacted the way I reacted to the anti. I had enough. I had enough of their drama and their bullying. So to my followers if you were offended by what I did. You are welcome to unfollow and block me if you wish. I’m not going to stop and change your mind or say the right thing just to earn a follower. This is me and this is who I am. If you don’t like me for who and what I am. Unfollow button is just right there. I am a bitch to a person who is a bitch to me. I’m not fake I’m not going to sugarcoat anything just to appear perfect in your eyes. I am human I could make mistake and say the wrong things, but one thing for sure I’ll admit to my mistake if there is and I would not play the victim. I’m done being the victim.

And to the anti, almost a good job trying to turn my fandom against me. You guys can’t push me away so you guys resorted to acting like the victim and making me look like the evil incarnate. And like you guys have done nothing wrong at all. And asking the karamel fandom to block me. Nice try. But your not getting rid of me that easily. Whether you like it or not’- @starcrossed-comets

‘the drama involving me and some anti.’- this drama being that I wrote a poem in critype about the fact the kremlins were talking about my URL change and her then proceeding to call me ‘disgusting’ and a ‘nasty pig’ to anons she says I sent there to ‘stalk’ her… bby, just unblock me and go look at what I’m posting cause all of it was dank memes and none of it mentioned you so… also ‘some anti’ henny just say my fuckin name so people can go look at what actually happened..

‘If anyone is trying to offend me the first thing I’ll do is to defend myself.’- okay?? But when exactly was I ever trying to offend you?? You weren’t even the only one in that screenshot that I talked about.. I laughed because you called me an anti, I laughed cause there were people who felt as though I was out to get them when I really, truly, am not… babes idk what I ever did to hurt you.

‘Trying to hurt me by talking about my fave and comparing it to yours, will not get sympathy from me. I’m not going to apologize for what I did when I’m the one who got provoked on the situation.’- bby, the whole ‘when will ur fave ever’ thing… thas a meme boo, and i… I never said shit to you.. idk if you noticed, I mean you’ve mentioned it a few times, but you blocked me for reasons I can’t recall?? So I cant.. send u anons.. nor would I tbh.. I don’t think the anon was trying to hurt you I mean they legit just said ‘karadanversbitch throws a piping hot load down my mouth every night when will ur fave ever’… firstly that obviously wasn’t me because a. im blocked and b. idk the logistics of me doin that to myself??? But go off

‘I’m not going to bow down to some haters just cause I hurt their feeling. cause when you think of it none of them apologize when they attack and bullied me and hurt my feelings.’ – im sorry people have treated you like that.. sincerely I am, but I have never?? I have never attacked or bullied you or set out to hurt your feelings.. you cant just say shit like this and not have examples of times I did this, which you don’t have cause.. ive never done it

‘No one apologize to me when they called me homophobic -I’m a trans woman No one apologize to me when they called me white racist cis - I’m Filipino born from a Chinese mother and a Spaniard dad No one apologize to me when they called me a nazi sympathizer - my grandma was a WWII survivor who almost became a comfort woman to Japanese soldiers when they invaded Philippines No one apologize to me when they called me abuse apologist - I just escape a 10 years toxic abusive relationship and I’m still recovering from it No one apologize to me when they called a rape apologist - I was rape by my filthy landlord when I was 18 and no one was there to help me’- once again, I am terribly sorry those things happened to you, but it wasn’t me, the teenager you called a ‘nasty pig’ I have honest to God never done any of these things… to anyone?? And just because you’ve been through some awful shit does not give you a free pass to say and accuse people of whatever you feel like.. you’ve been abused? Join the fuckin club, but you don’t see me out here calling people names unprovoked.. I have literally never in my entire life done anything to you, ever.

‘Ok not saying this to get sympathy.’ Hunty, there was no other reason to say it

‘I’m saying this so I can explain why I reacted the way I reacted to the anti. I had enough. I had enough of their drama and their bullying.’- once again.. I literally did nothing.. but once again, go off??

say the right thing just to earn a follower.- so you agree that this is the wrong this to say?

I am a bitch to a person who is a bitch to me.- good for you, but my darling I legit did.. nuthin???

I’m done being the victim.- she says.. still having another paragraph of being the victim to go :/

And to the anti, almost a good job trying to turn my fandom against me.- I just asked.. to.. talk to you? Because you called me a nasty pig?? And im still curious as to why??

so you guys resorted to acting like the victim and making me look like the evil incarnate- I just posted some screenshots babe.. if those are making you look like the ‘evil incarnate then maybe you should rethink what you’re posting???

And like you guys have done nothing wrong at all.- I mean.. legit.. I don’t think?? I did?? But pls, tell me what I did. I have no fucking idea what I did to you?? So if ya could hmu and tell me?? That would be really great??

here’s her callin a minor a nasty pig and i guess when i provoked her?? idk

here’s my beautiful poem

here’s her saying i send my ‘minions’ after her even though.. i have never

here’s her saying i’m unstable

#stay pressed #sorry it's long but like I wanted to say this #I'm getting legit death threats cause of her lies so :/#if ya can't see the link you're probs blocked :(

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yeahwesaidthat · 7 years

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TWWS: The Best of D&D

Ladiiiiiiiies and gentlemeeeeeeeeeeen! Welcome to the ultimate showdown: THE BEST OF D&D!

This post contains the best of the best of the D&D/RPG posts over the years of TWWS, all the way from the beginning. At the end of the post, there will be a link to a survey where you can vote for your favourites in each category (other/3.5e, 4e, and 5e) and nominate MVPs for each category. If the person you want to vote MVP has only been referenced as “Player,” just note down what quote they’re responsible for. A week from today (or until enough of you fill out the survey), Round 2 of the competition begins.

Everybody roll for initiative!

Overheard During Other RPGs

During Hackmaster, about a bottle label: SB: “It says ‘Thou shalt not question the DM over inane shit!’”

Overheard During D&D 3.5e

Unarmed damage?: MM: “It’s the difference between a slap and a bitch-slap.”

So wrong it's right: MM (IC): “I like your spunk.” KH (OOC): “So does [gay player].”

Rogue equipment: KB (IC): “I need [boots] that are…soft-sounding.” MM (IC): “We have socks.”

Describing a character: SO: “She is built like a brick shithouse.” DM: “She shits brick houses.” Bubbles: “She makes brick houses shit bricks.”

When the party has two rogues: KH (IC): “I can find it!” KB (IC): “I can find it better.”

RD (IC): “[Wizard], if you do not stop right now, I will arrest you for terminal stupidity, and I can assure you, I will find a law against it!”

A discount on services rendered: SO: “What’s 75% off of ‘I run and do whatever you ask without question’?”

Calling for divine help in very specific situations: MM: “Please state your current medical emergency.” KB: “Head-splosion.” SO: “If you have been stabbed, press one. If you are currently being stabbed, press two.” MM: “If your head’s detonated and you’ve launched into a wall, press three.” RD: “Why did you press three? We never expected anyone to press three!” SO: “We don’t know what to do in this medical emergency! Please dial again!”

IO: “[Wizard] is going to say - ” KB: “Can I tell you why this is a bad idea?” IO: “No.”

Proper procedure when everything goes to hell: RD: “[Cleric] goes outside and makes a magic circle, sits in it, and cries.”

KH (IC): “That stupid fucking son of a flea-ridden bitch cunt wizard - ” MM (IC): “Oh, him.”

How to pray to the god Ao: KB, KH, and MM: “I throw my hands up in the air sometimes sayin’ heeeeey-oh! I worship Aaaaaaa-o!” Bubbles: “[The wizard’s] gaaaaaaaay-o!"

Overheard During D&D 4e

SIDE NOTE: A Quiplash commentary on D&D 4e: A more environment-friendly alternative to toilet paper - 4th ed character sheets

What we think we saw - again?: Player: “If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and weighs the same as a duck, it must be a witch.” KH: “It’s a witch.” RJ: “Build a bridge out of 'er!”

Healing needed: Player: “I have a mess kit, will that help?” WS: “Only if you want to make a mess.”

Captain: “Neverwinter ho!” Dwarf: “Hos? Where?”

SB: “Eventually you end up at the most popular stall in the market.” Player: “Porn?”

About attacking a character that may or may not be good: SB: “Wait, what’s your alignment?” Player: “Lawful Paranoid.”

Taunting the kraken: Player: “Your tentacles are so short even an anime girl wouldn’t take 'em!”

Questioning the legitimacy of an NPC: SB (IC as Priest): “I have a degree in polytheism from the University of Phoenix Online!”

Making sure it’s really dead: SB: "You kick the head and it goes sailing through the open door of the tomb. You hear a voice in the darkness go ’Gooooooooal!’”

Killing the undead: SB: “Congratulations, you choked something to death that doesn’t breathe.”

Mass undead murder: Player: “We made a ghoul-ash. An evil gumbo, really.”

Architecture: Player: “I like big buttresses and I cannot lie.”

Interesting kills: SB: “You decapitated him with a bludgeoning weapon.”

About flying books: Player 1: “The window opens in! How do they fly out?” Player 2: “They’re paperbacks."

Player: “Thank God I decided to engage the dragon in melee.” MW: “You’ll never hear that in any other D&D campaign ever again.”

Player: “Is the food still on the table?” Three Of Us: “DON’T EAT IT!!!”

Overheard During D&D 5e

Annoying Teen: (about his character) “Would he still hate me?” AD: (not about his character) “I think everyone hates you.”

Don’t mess with a dire bear: JI: “There’s one inside who attacks the bear…" (rolls) "...and misses horribly ‘cause he shits his pants.”

JI: “He doesn’t have 100 hit points. He has 95.”

Demonic insight: KH: “I say in Infernal, ‘Peace! We mean you no harm!’” JI: “There’s no word in Infernal for ‘peace.’” Retroactive Edit: Demons actually speak Abyssal. Devils speak Infernal.

Animal form disadvantages: AD: “I’m going to bite [the zombie].” Everyone Else: (mass noise of disgust)

JI: “You feel a pinch in your mind as if she’s flipping through your yellow pages.” AD: “That’s got to be a euphemism for something.” ST: “Oh, yeah, baby, turn my yellow pages.” JB: “Turn to ‘F’ for fun.”

What happens in every religious venue in every D&D campaign ever: JB: “Here is the church, here is the steeple,” KH: “Open the door, and here are the zombies.”

KH: “Did you sneak off to her house in the middle of the night?” ST: “Does that sound like something I would do?” KH, AD, and CD: “Yes.”

JI: “You guys came in here - ” AD: “ - like a wrecking ball - ”

Post-adventure considerations: KH: “[Rogue] wouldn’t know what to do with her life.” AD: “She can bail herself out of jail.”

Switching to melee for a change: CD: “Let’s see if this ‘offense’ thing you do all the time really works.” (rolls a critical hit)

The logistics of being swallowed by a sea monster: ST: “Am I going to take damage if I move further along his digestive tract?”

EC: “If you had leprosy and your ears fell off would you be a deaf leper?”

Identifying mysterious cults: KH: “What’s the Cult of Howling Hatred?” EC: “The Westboro Baptist Church, obviously.”

DR: “Apparently your god has personally intervened due to your badassery.”

A Mass Effect cameo on a dexterity check for dancing: EC: “If you roll a one, you dance like Shepard.”

EC (IC): “So what you’re saying is that it’s very dangerous and we shouldn’t go in. I’ll take point.”

Things to worry about in combat: KH: “You don’t have enough hit points to take it like a man, honey.”

The ends justify the means?: Bubbles: “Did you have fun role-playing an interrogation?” DR: “You guys are fucked up.”

KH: “How do you stun-lock a Terrasque?!?” JB: “Fourth Edition.”

ST: “Do we have to kill them before we eat? I hate murdering on an empty stomach.”

About a revenant and a possible lover: EC: “Well the beast is committing necrophilia and the necro is committing bestiality…” DR: “What happens in Faerun, et cetera.”

Rolling high on a seduction check: DR: “Frankly, I didn’t think you’d go down this road.” KH: “Oh, I went down all right.”

More on the seduction roll: Bubbles: “Try to convince her to come with us. The way she came with you last night.”

About a nonviolent kua-toa: Player: “He’s a paci-fish.”

About dealing with face-hugging enemies: CD: “You swung at yourself and missed?” AD: “I swung at myself and missed.”

ST (IC): “I’ll be staying in the boat unless you have need of my specific skills.” CD (OOC): “Dying first is not a skill.”

About cultists: DM (IC): “They are water people. Maybe they’re just going with the flow.”

About a minotaur who keeps missing: DM: “At least when you put a bull in a china shop he’ll break shit.”

About bottles of brandy: EC: “I have two questions: how many of them are there and how many of them can I carry?”

Ideas so bad they’re good: KH: “We’re gonna blow up the temple with the distillery.” F: “The temple, the lich, half the plot…”

About going forward: KH: “Against our better judgment.” DM: “What better judgment?” KH: “Good point.”

About shooting arrows: KH: “'Nock’ yourself out.”

About using a lot of magic: JS: “We’re blowing a big load here right now.”

JS: “You wanna go up the shaft?” ST and T: “That’s what he said.”

About flirting with an efreet: JI: “Below her waist is a trailing cloud of black smoke, so you’re not getting anything.”

Questioning the guardian imp: Player (IC): “What happens if someone disturbs the sarcophagus before your time is up?” WS (IC): “There’ll be six more weeks of winter.”

MR (IC): “Trying to undercut me on my quest to restore my former glory?” KH (IC): “You have no glory to restore.” Other Players: “Oooooooh!” SW: “Quick, someone cast heal!”

When talking with a spirit: MR (IC): “You can’t just ask someone if they’re dead! That’s incredibly rude! The correct term is ‘mortally challenged’!”

After a petrifying encounter with some basilisks: BC: “I always thought she was stone-hearted.” KT: “I dunno, I thought she rocked.” JS: “I am going to kill all of you.”

What to do with windmills: KH: “If we had a lance, we could go tilting.” MR: “Cavalier idea.”

Quest priorities: Player 1: “No one’s going to pay us to do it right now. It’s not worth the attention.”

JF: “Roll to see if you hit me by accident.” KH: “Oh, I’d hit you on purpose.”

K’s paladin chastising A’s paladin about her sex habits: A (IC): “I thought you were the paladin of joy!” K (IC): “Not that kind of joy!”

About a previous edition of D&D: KH: “[What] the hell couldn’t you do in 3.5?” SW: “Win.”

KH: “Technically you’re underage.” ST: “That’s never stopped me before.” AD: “You or your character?” ST: “Do I have to answer that?”

D: “We’re gonna make the Underdark great again!” ST: “We’re gonna build a wall - a really big wall in the Underdark, and we’re gonna make the gnomes pay for it.” A: “We pay for everything already! Screw you!”

About a character who caught fire: T: “He’s not rolling initiative; he’s rolling on the ground.”

T (IC): “Let’s go before the men’s egos get us killed.”

JB (IC): “My god believes in good opportunities. Not dying is a good opportunity.”

Passing on some bad news: JI (IC): “[Chief] not sick!” AD (IC): “He was when we were done with him.”

To a healer: KH (IC): “I don’t suppose you have a cure for the common cold?” JI (IC): “I’m not a miracle worker.”

Reassuring a woman scorned: AA (IC): “Go tell her - all men dogs.” JI (OOC): “Says the cat.”

To the tune of “Like a G6”: ST and KH: “Roll a d6, roll a d6!”

KH: “Of course it’s always about dirty sex - I’m a bard!” AD: “The hell are you two talking about down there?!”

To a mindflayer, about a stupid character: KH (IC): “I’d offer you his brain to eat, but I don’t think he has one.” JS (IC as mindflayer): “I don’t eat junk food.”

MGW: “It’s Tza…Zsa…his name is Jasper.”

Saying goodbye to the barkeep: MR (IC): “I’ll be back visiting the northern parts soon.” KH (OOC): “And then you can visit her southern parts.”

About a questionable NPC: ST (IC): “I would never dream of hurting you!” KH (IC): “I would.”

About prison visitations: JB (IC): “How often is it that a [gypsy] walks in here voluntarily?”

Failing a romance/persuasion check: AA: “Ooh, she cast Zone of Friend!”

Preparing for a swamp adventure: CD: “I want to buy some insect repellant.” AD: “What, your personality doesn’t drive them away?”

About a magic boat: JB (IC): “I saw it grow!” ST (IC): “Are you sure you didn’t rub it? That sometimes happens with wood.” JB (IC): “You would know.” ST (IC): “You wouldn’t.” JB (IC): “Tell that to my two children.”

About an injured drow: MGW (IC): “Look at that poor girl! She has a black eye! You can’t see it, ‘cause her skin is black, but still!”

Last-minute aliases: RD (IC): “Unfortunately, no, my name is Dick Ballsenshaft.”

To a half-orc and Sir Bearington, regarding weirdness: MGW (IC): “…but for me to assume you’re in a loving relationship with a talking bear is where we draw the line?!”

Wisdom for stealing magic items: KC: “Anything that glows goes.”

About fleeing: RD: “I’m going to run like an Amazon employee during the holidays.”

MGW: “You were doing so well until everybody died.” JF: “D&D in a summary.”

Once more about fleeing: RD: “A smart man knows when to run like a little bitch.” J: “Why do you think that’s the first thing I did?”

Recapping the previous session: A: “There was a shitshow, but we got away with it.” S: “So the usual, then.”

About creature size: MR: “Is an ettin large or huge?” MGW: “I think he’s just large.” A: “He’s probably large but pretends he’s huge.” AS: “Typical guy.”

When a pervy character is disgusted by a perv: RD: “Dear Kettle, I have an issue with your current hue. Signed, the Pot.”

A: “He told us to send a message.” KH: “A sword in the stomach is a message.” SW: “The Lannisters send their regards.”

The pervy paladin: A: “I used Lay On Hands. I healed him.” KH: “Yeah, but where did you lay your hands?” MGW: “Wherever she wanted.”

About our tactics: SW: “We put the 'fun’ in 'dysfunctional.’”

About possible activities: MGW (IC): “I know you’re a tiefling, but we’re all the same color in the dark, right?”

Interesting weapon material: MGW: “You all take a moment of reflective silence.” JB: “Nah, I’m just cleaning my bone.” KH: “Technically that’s a moment of reflective silence.” KC: “Not if you’ve seen the barbarian do it.”

Scrying like bad cell reception: KH: “Switch to AD&D.” JB: “Can you scry me now?”

About the taste of human: SW: “You would know.” A: “Nah, I don’t swallow.” MR: “This conversation is making me uncomfortable.”

Wrestling prep: MR (IC): “I want a good, clean fight.” A (IC): “No we don’t.” JB (IC): “What’s a clean fight?” A (IC): “It means you have to take a bath first.” JB (IC): “What’s a bath?”

MGW: “There’s a bridge that looks like it may have collapsed at some point.” JB: “Is it a-bridged?”

Beautiful references (read in Rorschach’s voice): AA: “I’m not grappled with YOU,” ST, AA, and KH: “YOU’RE grappled with ME!”

About remaining spells: KH: “I have three 1st-level slots and one 2nd-level slot.” CD: “Those are 'keeping people alive’ slots.”

Dealing with extra-limbed gorillas: ST: “Uh-oh! They must have been forewarned!” AD: “What makes you say that?” ST: “Forewarned is four-armed.” AD: -_-

Negotiation skills: AD: “It’s just me trying to bullshit him.” JI: “Why don’t you make a bullshit check?”

Trying to figure out if the staff is necromantic: CD: “We could kill a mouse in front of the staff. We could kill a mouse with the staff. How much is it to buy a mouse?”

JB: “Anyone die while I was gone?” SW: “Not on the outside.”

Wizarding limits: JS: “You may not polymorph your zombies into t-rexes.”

Zombies aren’t too smart: BC (IC): “Bobs, attack the closest gnoll!” Bobs: (run at gnoll party member) KH (OOC): “Et tu, Bob?” JS (OOC): “If this doesn’t belong in your blog, I dunno what does.”

Far too relatable: JS: “Twenty psychic damage.” BC: “I’ve taken more psychic damage from my mother.”

Worst-laid plans: KH (IC): “I have a very bad feeling about this.” MR (IC): “You should.”

Our go-to combat tactic: MR: “Are we going to stupid the guy to death?”

Zing!: MGW (IC): “If you join me, I can make you the greatest dwarf who ever lived.” TP (IC): “I am the greatest dwarf who ever lived.” Whole Table (OOC): “Ooooohhhhh!!!”

Another verbal duel with a sea god/character class limitations: KH: “I would say 'what is a god to a nonbeliever,’ but I’m a cleric.”

Activating the mysterious device: BC (IC): “We did it! I wonder what we did?”

Business as usual: KH: “This seems like a bad idea, but go ahead.”

Old adages: MR: “No plan survives contact with the enemy.” (IC) “But then, no enemy has survived contact with us!” (OOC) “Was that quote-worthy?” KH: “Yes.”

KC: “She can ride me. I don’t care.” KH: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) KC: “…I’M A BEAR IN ARMOR.”

Advantageous druidic inanity: KC: “Are you still riding the flying bear?” MR: “It’s flying now?” KC: “Yeah, he flew up to unlock the door.” AS: “…So he’s a flying bear with armor…”

Spell modifications for humourous purposes: MR: “Using a Dex[terity] save for Zone of Truth means they’re literally dodging the question.”

About a wild, crazy, out-of-left-field hypothesis: RD (IC): “I figured if you pulled something that big our of your ass there’d be bleeding involved.” MR (IC): “…That’s between me and my proctologist.” SW (OOC): “Did you take fire damage for that? That’s like Taco Bell levels of burn.”

As is per usual: MR: “We may have once again survived this by the skin of bullshit.”

Take the survey and vote for your favourites!

#twws #that's what we said #d&d

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throwingideasatthewall · 3 years

Text

Clone Wars Brothers

I know of one of the weakest episodes the weakest relation,

I’m enthused (No I’m not)

Whoa,

It’s red

WHY IS IT RED??

You had one episode about Ven -tress

Is it now her show?

Seriously, what happened in that episode?

Hold up

[Let me ch- -eck]

Nope still is season four

Now with an apparent drop in quality

Great

[ *Cracks open*]

Ai- ght

O-h

B-ea ten

Ah no, he was shocked which yeah should’ve resulted in him being unconscious

But ,“beaten”?

Not the word I would’ve use there,

To be hon-est,

Cr-ea -tor

Oh he exist- ed before her *Spell * So, He’s not exactly Franken stein here (Frankenstein‘s monster if you’re being damn specific] Un-less..

Any-how-

Sense Him,

Bull shit,

But Okay,

(Seriously Dooku is just having all the vengeance today,

Sav-age Op -press

I mean everyone’s pretty equal on energy so I guess an experience And confidence (He can- )

*Seriously what is up with the coughing thing I know that was a something from the Og, But it has to mean something,

And have forseeable consequences

(Aka add to the story)

“A threat..”

Dude you consider-ed Ven -tress a threat last episode,

(Like Maul was apprenticed to Si-d-ious who by all means should be higher on the chain of command than V-en- -tress- -)

(The power chain is all screwy,)

Though I do kind of give them points for addressing the criticism I had last episode, of grievous being assigned assignment way below his belt,

Also excluding a few circumstances this is just constantly kicking with Grievous while he’s down,

And I’m honestly expecting a Face- turn any day now

(Like he got a glow up one episode before it promptly got thrown away, ,) ) “ All of us,”

All of us en-ablers,

“Con-trol,”

You can’t control an adult human being groomer (Se- ntient) . A din-n -er

Also why is the waitress bot fle-e-ing

Like wouldn’t it’s protocol dictate, Either conferring with a customer or Order-ing them to leave?

Like why by any name would you program your waitress bot to panic . And frigh ten- patrons? . Why - A-ight- - W-h

Well, that went on to long to be funny (Having it just cut to him ordering a cheeseburger now that would’ve been funny,)

Also - the hell?

Look nothing about anything that just happened indicated that this guy was on a mission or had any sort of plan other than malician

You can’t show him openly participating in the malici-an one second and then turning around and acting intelligent and on a mission . Not without a transition a whole lot more Of emotion And expla-

Ex;

“Where is it? You sa-”

“Put her down now or I’ll call the author-ities,”

[Catch -es eye- Backs Away - Slow-ly Runs into the alley/ cargo way] [Touches box- has some kind of indicator

[because of now- there’s nothing there, I have no idea what to do with it- Because there was no indicator of what he’s referring to,

Dude just touch the box and was like ‘This must be a clue!’

?? [like you need to throw some sand- or something on there-]

I generally have not feck what they were going for though

[Objectivity needs to reflect with what your chara -cater is saying otherwise I’m just going to assume they’re crazy]

(Aka you don’t need to put all the details out there out-front But you do need some indication. (Again some kind of residue or substance on his fingers)

Again I would have no idea what that would mean but I would have some indication that it meant something in the greater plan and I wasn’t just watching this character go un-accountable

[Sorry but details are im-portant] - ? [So she straight up track ed him right?]

Because if I don’t see a track-ing chip on him. . . I’m going to be a bit mad. . . ? - Yeah those dots are practically on top of each other so they must be in the same feck in din -ner - O-p. - Oh back to this boring plot point, . Maybe it’s gotten better from the documentary, it was . . . ? . They are un-accountable that started a war and people that could and very possibly would’ve murder- ed you at any point,

(I’m not sure jumpiness but generally aggression would be pretty well reason, ( Actually jumpiness at the unaccountable’s would be reasonable)

Also yeah I know her tone is still as dry as sand paper - Zero e-motion - Hey still no e-motion [A lower head and

Quick movement

Aren’t emotions]

Any puppet can lower it’s head and move quickly,

There’s no regrets in her line there’s no conflict. . . No inquisitive-ness there what-soever- - No rais. -ing of the eyebrows or lightning of the eyes,

Nor lightning of the tone or any energy,

Do you know to tell her pupils didn’t widen or move in anyway nor did her body language changed at all

... or her tone?

[that’s how you tell it’s fe’cki’n boring)]

There’s no emotional consequence to this at all

[Entertainment as a field that relies completely on empathy, on emotion, emotional stimuli

If you don’t have that

It’s not entertainment

It’s an animation and logistical voice acting how-to-course

[not that that’s not of value, just that it’s not as advertis-ed, Not as promoted, a problem]

Again what does any of this mean?

[This is BOR-ING- ] -

[Pretty sure they’ve never met this guy,]

Why. ? [I know because my amulet is pur -ring,] ] [ All said with no emotion, - ] - [Hot cold hot cold how the thing works nobody fecking knows- - ] [why does he look like a damn Muppet.]

[standing out in the field.]

[Why,]

[it just turned off five minutes ago what makes this time so important? ?

Wow that had no emotion or commitment whatsoever,]

It’s a snake

A sen-tient snake,

[ignoring any boom-er symbolism]

The heck kind of logistics does that make?

Like to make sentient?

It has to have the estimated amount of accountable energy,

Of everyone else

[Otherwise you’re just a cruel God]

Like with Zila

She had to be very delicate

*Em

So,how... ?

[”I have no time for you,” * proceeds to attempt to fight them* Constant characterization and consistency, what?

[This is very Stupid]

[Si-lence]

Oh, Ha Ha ha, it’s supposed to be funny because he’s a cheapskate despite that not being establishing no emotion being behind it , ha ha ha ha, so funny

[Damn this movie]

[Revenge against selfish and entitled boomers can be funny]

[Not in this case with no emotion]

[Or establishment]

[Making this unclear if it’s kicking down at your own level]

Feck you

No Emotion!

[No motivation whatsoever!]

Oh yeah sure they say that his thing is fine his brother whatever, whatever

[That’s a whole lot of telling and a fecking an inconsistent amount of showing

* as well as [lower] quality

If you want to put words and explanations over things happening go to documentary school

[i’m sorry I’m just a little pissed about this being called anything but observation]

If you want to do a thing at least make sure to do it properly!

[I’m a fan of en- tertainment]

[As well as observation]

[Seeing either mis-labeled is a damn shame- ]

[Could’ve been pretty useful,]

[Thanks to mislabeling it’s damn wasted time]

[And effort -]

[which again damn shame , ]

*apologies for the excessive use of [the word] “damn”

Unf-ortunately I don’t have anything else to say because there’s nothing much engaging, happening on screen,

[You know this could’ve been an honestly heartwarming message about someone who’s been treated to tox behavior by their peers and cre-ators, [. em-bittered to the world ] struggling to find value in themselves, On a mission by said pro-genitors, And a sandstorm- Cutting com- munication, To said tox influences,

Except for one (Semi)

Unfortunately due to the lack of commitment that didn’t happen,

The scenes with his communication gets cut is dry and tasteless, as well as (emotionless) , The set up is non-existence to poor taste. - And-

[Well I have no interest in his goals so this action scene is pretty pointless] -

[Nor does this have any tension because these guys are Junk -ers, We’ve seen Savage throw round heavier foes, and we have no idea anything ~ about - this guy ~ to give this any tension - no psy-chological weak -ness or dis -like~ - [You’ve turned a concept that could be a less emotionally implausible Franken -stein, Into dry-wall]

With no emotional in-vestment

[You know what would’ve been fun- [Done in writer’s tense;

If the snake and him had started to form a bond; and if the snake had given him some kind of order like, don’t attack those people;

Something that goes against everything that he’s been taught;

As well as the concept of people responding in re-tribution;

If he does; maybe the snakes showing some com- passion,

Since he knows what it’s like to be re-latively helpless-

Or just any sort of em-otion-

Because there is just nothing there~ ~No humanity there-

No humanity-

In this scene~

Not even inhumanity

[The evils in inhumanity

- Toxic humanity-

Or any - Self awareness-

What-so-ever

Any way

The story-

Continues to grate-

On my nerves-

Til the end-

[Oh look it’s fan-favorite; Maul

He’s [Un-accountable-]

If only you had hadn’t establish- ed everyone else is un- emotional puppets

And any outliers as anomalies-

There might’ve been someone to bounce off of

And give us a scale for how “off this is,

As it stands ‘gruff’ is now a per- sonality- - And people randomly attacking and yelling things at each other is a pretty much norm,

Great job taking all the emot-ion out of your supposed to be emot-ionally impactful moment

. *Re-veal

[Good time to contrast any sort of feelings towards -family-

- it’s - wasted- - You know in the most emotionally charged reveal you wouldn’t think they’d want to hide the eyes- the most emotional part of the body-

[then again you wouldn’t be these writers-]

NOTHING!

[Was gained]

Well.

What an awfully cho-reographed (Put to-gether) (Coordinate) Emotionless dull And un-entertaining Mis- labeled Observational Mess, (With no harsh regards) (I pity the animation team that had their efforts so poorly directed. (Stitch-ed together). (Used)

(Po-orly. Exposé (Ex-ecute)

Turning

What could’ve been an emotionally tense and F-ascinating story;

About a person who’s been subjected to talk with behavior since childhood and even in a supposed partnership (in one’s supposed Gen) being sent on a quest, by one of said person (s)

To find their older brother Gen(eration);

Who has since given into enabling

Getting cut off by a sand storm

F(inding a less tox influence

-That seems to show some interest for his well-being,

The communications refusing to work after the sandstorm leading to the implication that the toxic individual abandon him

The emotional res- ponse-

Getting re-abandoned by the less tox individual-

Encountering the older tox enabling gen -eration;

Who not only physically assa -ults him upon meeting

But refuses to ac-cept That (Seeing as how Savage is 22 (And an adult) It means he’s fail-ed and become the very thing he’s grown to dis-like,

And insist on staying focused on his ven- geance

(Against one group of enablers). )

(Expressing similar disposition to his abusers)

(And attempting to return to them;

Having gone through a world of nothing but cruelty)

Into;

Cardboard cut outs enacting an emotion -ally dead story,-

(With no proper set up)

[Not a yank - at the animation team.- -Just the dead soul -less nature of everything,

Involved.]

With no self-awareness,

About what a dry-

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