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cryptid-pet · 1 year ago

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Blood for Treasure

Caruki >>> Azushin Merman Au >>>

The water kept in a tank will never be compared to water in the ocean. Nothing vast and full of life compares to plastic and fake stones, the dyed fake plants that give the tacky look like in a dentist office. It’s already been painful with the separation of family, no exact contact being at aid. Considering the blessing of not being captured by a butcher, which wouldn’t be pleasant, being under the eyes of the Hunter Brother’s was the second worst.

Check it off the list, maybe the hope will sink in, but the list has been empty with no method to escape the surface. Like a broken ark, there’s no overzone. Just hearing the conversations among Shin and Carla was enough to add to Ruki’s awareness that the slim chance of getting to the ocean alive might be impossible. It’s been two weeks since he and Azusa got separated after the capture, leading to unnecessary worries sinking in. Even if there wouldn’t be a physical encounter, a visual for the brothers to see one another would be great nonetheless, a gift.

The couple tries to break the glass and almost got Ruki killed as many death threats were sent to him. He needs to get out of here, him and Azusa. Of course, he’s worried for Kou and Yuma, who barely can keep civil without a fight breaking out over a clam. Stress and unwanted thoughts kept slipping through the cracks.

Nighttime came and Shin was granted permission to take the boat on his own, whereas Carla would keep in his study. The goal of Carla is to cure his illness, past attempts and visits from differ places diagnosed with the disease he had to be untreatable. Same with Yuma and Kou, Shin wouldn’t know what to do if Carla wasn’t around, only knowing what he’d want to see or expect from his younger brother; Carla is what keeps Shin going.

For once, Ruki was able to sleep, relying on the mini updates about Azusa as his medication to knock him out peacefully. For the first time within a couple weeks, he hasn’t seen Carla within the twenty four hour day.

Deep in a slumber, nothing, yet something, could disturb the merman. The time changed to two in the morning the following day, and Carla was still doing his research at the moment.

No way he was ready to rest, he never dared to bat an exhausted eye.This illness of his was killing him, mentally and physically. He’s desperate at this point, going for the past five years to make no progress. The research finding was more brutal compared to the poison flowing through the veins. Nothing was wrong with coming up with new solutions and ideas, and Carla went with that. He absolutely took the bullet, and dodged it too.

Meanwhile, back in the closed, secured room, Ruki slowly woke up to the sound of someone entering the room. He’s grateful enough that the tank he was casually dropped into was able to hold his long, silky body.

Such a metal and solid material door slams with an echo as Carla appears in the room, the braid once in his hair taken out and splayed smoothly down along his dorsal.

“Are you awake?” He asked, taking a glance over at the filled tank.

Ruki squints with the broad lighting from above flickering on, “Are you asking me if I’m ready for you to harass me once more?” He sassed, tapping a sharpened nail at the glass with a sway to the tail, “No, I am not awake.”

“Do not get on my nerves, Mukami.” Carla states, approaching. “I am at my limit where you simply lie around dainty and still to sleep, whereas I must keep going for a profit.”

“A profit you get paid for taking my brother and I from our homes, indeed, you are getting paid good.”

It’s true, Carla was ready to snap like he hasn’t already. His composure doesn’t faltar, nor do his reactions to Ruki’s smartass mouth.

“You ARE aware of what time it is? You WILL cooperate with me without further notice, WITHOUT hesitation.”

“Haven’t we given you and Shin enough?” Ruki questioned, being genuine. “You took blood samples, scale samples, and even chipped off one of our teeths for testing, what else could you possibly require?”

“A cure,” Carla spoke, getting up on the step stool beside the tank to open it from above, “I am taking you out, do not resist me.”

“And where are you planning to keep me? In a museum?”

“Do not make this more difficult than it has to be.” With that, Carla found himself literally dragging Ruki by an arm to lift from the water.

He’s strong, but Ruki is stronger thanks to his canal fin thrashing around. After a few minutes of struggle, Carla carried Ruki out of the room and into the lab-like room the merman disliked very much. Like earning lethal injection for a death sentence, Ruki was sat uncomfortably and strapped in a chair, swaying his tail in a brief attempt to grow adjusted.

Carla already started getting himself situated, the elastic on his wrist being used to put his hair up so it wouldn’t get in his face. He notices how Ruki stares intensely at him, like a predator watching over its prey.

“You stare with no fear, are you used to this treatment?”

“What is the valid point of expressing fear?” Ruki tilted his head, “I already know you and your brother get a kick from it.”

“Please,” Carla went through a drawer to find gloves, “Understandable on Shin’s behalf, but do not group me with him.”

“But he is your brother, correct?”

“Yes, but we’re not alike under some sections.” Carla ended up clarifying, shortly returning to stand in front of Ruki. He eyes him, examining; “Your stitches haven’t healed fully, so doing any further cutting along a strong tail would be absurd.”

“You never specified what you needed EXACTLY from my body,” Ruki mentioned, huffing, “You want something such as a urine sample?”

“Your urine is the last thing that will ever become an interest, even though it would be worth money.”

“Then what is it?”

“I want more blood samples,” Carla came beside Ruki this time and started gingerly keading and poking at his upper arm. Ruki doesn’t flinch or resist. “Unlike the four tubes we took from your brother, I’ll be taking triple the amount from you.”

“Twelve tubes of blood?” Ruki asked, “You want TWELVE tubes of MY blood? For what type of documents is this required for?”

“None of your business, the most I shall tell you is it’s for me, only me.”

Creepy enough for those having a fear of getting their blood drawn, imagine twelve tubes. Once the needle is in, surely nobody can feel it outside of the tiny pinch. These needles, unlike in a doctor's office or hospital, were bigger with longer tips. Easily, the nerves would feel every ounce of said needle sinking through the flesh, it kills.

Before Ruki could say another word to form another question, his head was turned to one side forcefully, his teeth gritting. Unlike trying to find a vein along a limb, Carla was trying to go for the neck, where blood isn’t normally drawn from.

“Loosen yourself up,” Carla demanded, extending an arm to the trey nearby on the counter to reach a syringe, “It’ll be painless if you cooperate with me.”

“I refuse, ESPECIALLY with the lack of information you won’t give to me,” Ruki tried to resist against a compelling force, though Carla has more upper body strength than him.

No fear shows by any means, mentally? Of course, the merman indeed has fear mentally for his santiy. It would be an overload of feelings, and that would begin to tank on someone’s health in every catergory. Without realizing at first, an echo of a grunt, a yell in addition, echoed through the hall from the lab.

#diabolik lovers #nixxio moodboard #diabolik lovers fanfiction #caruki #azushin merman au #nixxio au #nixxio text #nixxio stories #carla tsukinami #tsukinami carla #ruki mukami #mukami carla #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers fandom

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black-rose-writings · 2 years ago

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https://at.tumblr.com/black-rose-writings/what-is-darkling-capable-of-like-what-are-all-his/8eil9ewg4eue

Thank you for answering my question! I was also wondering what type of grisha are there? And what powers and abilites do grisha have?

I have only seen the show and I'd like to know more about grisha and their abilities!

So, firstly, there are three "Orders" of Grisha

Etherialki (aka Summoners) - control "liquid" elements. Powerful etherialki can create the Cut (impossibly thin and powerful "blade" made out of their element which can cut through basically everything with ease).

Materialki (aka Fabricators) - control solid materials, including plants

Corporalki - control living matter

Then, each other separates into different types. It should be noted that the types are not completely exclusive and it is possible for a Grisha to learn the abilities of a different type or order. It is however done relatively rarely in modern times.

Etherialky sub-types:

Tidemakers - control water in all states (liquid, vapor, ice)

Squallers - control the air - they can manipulate air pressure, create wind and control temperature around them (Squallers are known to work as living air conditioners in Kerch). With some skill, they are also able to create lightning, though this ability is rarely taught in the Second army as it is considered too volatile and hard to control once created. Powerful Squallers (or groups of them) might also be able to manipulate weather for the reasons mentioned above. They might also be able to teach themselves how to levitate. Anything beyond wind and temperature manipulation is considered advanced and only very powerful and skilled Grisha will be able to do it safely (meaning with a reasonable elvel of control)

Inferni - control fire. Or, more specifically, flamable gases. They still need something to ignite those gases, so many Inferni in the book carry around a lighter (or whatever it's called) and in teh show, they appear to have special gloves that give can create sparks with certain movement, allowing them to create fire more quickly (the gloves might also provide a level of insulation from fire, as I think we don't know for sure how fire resistance Inferni actually are).

These are fairly common. But there are also two "special" types of Etherialki.

Shadow Summoners - they control shadows. There has only ever been two known Shadow Summoners, Baghra and Aleksander. Baghra is the daughter of Ilya Morozova (cringe) and it is possible her powers are the result of his meddling with Merzost. Shadow Summoners are extremely powerful and do not appear to age significantly once they reach maturity (in the books), as Aleksander is described as looking to be maybe 20-something and while Baghra trips everyone's "ancient" alarm, she physically looks to be maybe in her 30s. (more on Grisha aging at the end)

Sun Summoner(s) - control light. There has only ever been one known born Sun Summoner (Alina). It is up for debate whether the Sun Summoners created at the end of R&R are real Sun Summoners. Sun summoners are able to conjure beams of light and bend it to make themselves or things around them invisible.

Types of Materialki

Firstly, Materialki types are more akin to specialisation than hard(ish) division like for Etherialki. There is a huge overlap between the two types. But in short:

Alchemi are magical chemists. They manipulate matter on molecular level. In practice, they make things like explosives, salves and drugs. They can also do thing like removing poison from water.

Durasts primarily work with solid material - bones, wood, stone, metal, glass etc. They are effectively telekinetics. They can also change shape of those things and mold them together. Skilled and powerful Materialki can also affect elements on a subatomic level, changing one element into another (though without further help, such as parem, the resulting material will be radioactive).

They can also leech color from things (such as plants), force plants to grow/flowers to bloom.

Types of Corporalki

Again, Corporalki types are specialisations. In fact, we are told that there is a great degree of choice in which path a given Grisha takes and there's a great overlap between what they do (A Healer can do basic Heartrending and Heartrender can do basic Healing.)

Healers are exactly what it says on the tin. They can heal people - speed up healing of skin and flesh, fix broken bones etc. Resulting scarring, residual pain and speed of the healing appaears to be based on the Healer's power and experience.

Heartrenders, on the other hand, manipulate the body in "damaging" ways. They can damage internal organs, cause pain etc. They can also sense heartbeats of the people around them and can manipulate the speed of the heart and blood pressure of themselves and others. Some heartrenders can also learn to manipulate people's emotions by making their brain release certain chemicals (this is Nina's specialisation in the books).

Special Grisha

There are also Grisha, who don't really fit into any of these boxes.

The only one of these types we meet in the books (or show) are Tailors (like Genya), who are between Corporalki and Materialki. In later books, any Corporalnik can learn Tailoring, but their results are going to not be as high quality or last as long.

You might also count "Zowa" as their own separate thing. Generally, "Zowa" is a Zemeni (people from Novyi Zem, Grishaverse's black ethnicity) term for Grisha, however, as they learn and teach their powers differently from "mainland" Grisha, they do and up not being as closely confined to their orders/types.

(Spoiler) Jesper's mother, who taught him how to use his powers, is mentioned having abilities, that might reach into healing or water manipulation, despite being classified as a Durast. I have an old post, where I go deeper into the Grisha/Zowa thing.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, just what I can come up with from memory.

#grishaverse #grishaverse meta #grishaverse worldbuilding

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waltnut · 4 years ago

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Hey!! Do you have any more lore ideas of the demon bros in their level 3/4 states? Your last post was really interesting!! :)

I do have some that’s kinda dark? Maybe even kind of NSFW-ish? I’m not sure how you’d categorize it but here it is anyway.

I’ve had this idea of when the “heat season” comes around and what is needed to be done to protect MC. This is in no way what I think happens EVERY TIME heat season comes around just an idea that I had in my head for a concept. I’ve read many wonderful Headcanons for the heat seasons for the brothers and they are all way more thought out than this lol.

The idea is that for MC’s protection, it has been tasked to keep the brothers locked up in their room or a specific location until the heat has passed. The scenario is that this is the first time MC has been there for it and Barbatos is explaining to them and showing them what is needed to be done. There are seals in every room to keep them from breaking out, for example. The seals are made for that specific demon and do not affect MC or other demons. Most of them are in Level 4 during this time but will phase into Level 3 to try to manipulate MC into letting their guard down. Each demon is given something to keep the desire at bay. If they stop receiving these things they will go into a rage.

Assume they are in Level 4 unless stated. This is specifically the brothers...Read more below.

Lucifer - Locked in his room

Mc is not allowed even on the same floor as Lucifer during this time. It is said his power and influence can affect a large radius and should you get too close, you will feel unconsciously drawn to him or where he is.

There is a seal on his door to keep him in.

You will hear nothing behind his door, it is as if no one is home.

He stalks around in his room in Level 4, with all his lights off. Ashamed of himself and his lack of control.

If he knows MC is close, or if he can no longer resist, he is able to project illusions of this form throughout the house to Lure MC or scare MC into heading closer to him. You would see these out of the corner of your eye, or red eyes in the shadows of a silhouette of a giant goat man.

Should MC enter his room, the seal does not react to humans and opening the door does not break the seal, MC will be stuck in here until it’s over. Have fun dealing with a scary goat demon in the dark.

Music is needed to keep him calm. If no music is played he will use his illusions more to terrorize others on the outside and become violent if approaching his physical form.

Mammon - Locked away in his room, in a secret cellar type room that is accessible only through his room. It’ll

To get to him, there is a door in the back of his room, that only appears for this season, magic or something. It leads down a spiral staircase where the walls are stone and you come to a large stone room that is lit by conches and it’s filled with gold and treasure and the like. It’s a dragon’s den. And it’s separated by a wall of decorative bars keeping MC on one side and the dragon on the other.

The seal is on the bars and touching the bars would repel him. But MC can touch them and stick a hand through.

He lays on his treasure and gold objects which will stick to his leathery parts on his wings and the underside of his tail and belly.

Nests of treasures, tapestry and fancy rugs are also used as paddings for his nests. There are items from ancient times, which you could only assume he’s had for centuries and his hoard has only grown since then.

If MC enters this chamber he will transform to level 3 and offer his treasures to them. He will also pout and guilt to keep MC there with him.

Treasure is given to him every hour to keep him happy. He transforms back into level 4 in a fit and will destroy his piles of treasures out of anger and upset if they choose to leave him.

If MC chooses to stay, he will dress them in his treasures and make nests for them.

Leviathan - Sealed in his large aquarium tank. Did you think it was built for the fishes?

The only light source comes from the fish tank and TVs. You can see a giant dark mass inside the tank wrapping around everything inside. It has pulsating glowing orange orbs on its form.

There are Tv’s set up in front of the glass. A lot of them. All of them are anime. There are also a lot of plushies floating in the water. To keep him company, Barbatos would say. These objects keep him calm.

If MC approaches he will turn into Level 3 and press himself against the glass with the most sad eyes. He will use words to manipulate MC into feeling guilty for him being alone and to stay there with him and watch all the shows.

If you stay too long in this room you will hear an eerie whale type song in the back of your mind. It seems to make you dizzy and makes you want to stay with him. Maybe you just might jump in the water. Who needs to breathe anyway? He probably has a solution for that.

If MC chooses to leave he will turn back into Level 4 sea monster and wail the saddest deep sea song and slam his huge body against the glass. Hopefully it stays in tact.

Satan - Locked in his room.

A green glowing wall seal separates the door area from the rest of his room. It has a shimmering flame affect but you can see through it.

His room is trashed. Books ripped to shreds, book cases fallen over, small flecks of green flame and ash are scattered on the piles.

He remains in Level 4 even if MC is in the room. And he is not nice. He is mean. He will scream and yell and swear profanities at them, and especially Barbatos since Barbatos will not let Mc go alone. He will say down right terrible things out of anger and frustration.

If MC expresses any type of upset, it’s possible Satan might notice. If he does, he will lower his voice and approach. He will apologize and begin to try to convince Mc to stay with him and read all the books.

If he is refused he will slam on the sealed wall furiously and monstrous screaming continues. His flames in his body are strong and bright.

Books are given to him every half hour as well as audiobooks of plays from every language to keep him calm.

Asmodeus - Sealed in his room, but an altered version of reality.

His room is separated by a clear glass wall with an invisible seal. On the other side there are mirrors everywhere. It’s like a fun house with how they are not in any uniform pattern. Some are cracked and broken.

There is pillows and blankets and a giant bed where there isn’t mirrors.

The mirrors are used to keep his morale low, showing his reflection in his level 4 state causes a depression to keep him from wanting to pursue others, as he is the avatar of Lust and is the most insatiable during this season.

If MC is in the room, he will actually scream and refuse for them to see him. If MC can convince for Asmodeus to show himself, he will come close to the glass barrier and black tear lines would be streaming down his face.

He will show himself in Level 3 to them to convince MC to stay and keep him company. Something about wanting to see them from every angle with all these mirrors?

If refused he will start to break the mirrors around him. The magically repair themselves eventually.

Other demons like succubi/incubi are sent to him to keep his appetite lower. But he will always prefer MC over them.

Beelzebub - Locked in a giant meat freezer storage near the kitchen.

It’s very cold in here, and there are animal carcasses hanging from meat hooks everywhere. Even things you never seen before. It’s a large cold room with tile.

Bars separate you from the monster in the middle of the room. He sits on a pile of meat and flesh, sounds of tearing can be heard. But also the raffling of chains. The bars are not enough to hold him. There are seals on the bars and metal cuffs attached to his wrists and ankles.

Steam can be seen coming off the monster form Beelzebub.

Once MC enters, he will come launch himself towards them but the chains catch him and hold him away. Barbatos will allow MC to throw him some meat but to use a rod to stick it through, like some zoo keeper feeding a lion.

It was said they didn’t start using the chains until one time he broke out and went on a feeding spree. I won’t get into details about that.

He speaks in very few words. “Closer.” Or “Stay.” are usually what he’ll snort at MC. He stares at them, licking his lips. You don’t know if it’s lust or hunger or both.

He doesn’t put up much a fuss if MC leaves, as the food is enough to occupy him.

Food fed to him by the hundreds is needed to keep him from raging.

Belphegor - Locked back up in the attic.

There is a wall of black smoke/fog that hides the rest of the room. It has light flecks off white in them, like stars.

Red eyes stare at you from inside the fog. They disappear and reappear somewhere else.

Barbatos tells you to not touch the smoke. Do not. Ever. Touch the smoke.

Level 3 arms of Belphie can reach out from the smoke to grab you.

His voice is soft and sweet but his words are not. He tells you he is always with you when you sleep. He can see your dreams. He is in them. It’s the way he says these things that are unsettling.

He can disperse the fog enough to show himself to you. He can change the fog to look like space and galaxies to entice MC to want to stay and experience it.

He will guilt trip MC, saying they’re the reason he’s here and they owe him. They need to make it up to him. He can forgive them if they stay.

If he is refused, a wave of tiredness will wash over MC. Barbatos must always accompany them and he is able to take them away before anything happens.

Incense smoke is needed to keep him calm and sedated.

Now you may be thinking...What about Barbatos?? Isn’t he affected by the season?? To that he replies...

“Oh yes, but my constitution is much stronger than the rest.”

Then perhaps you may be wondering about Lord Diavolo. To which he replies...

“It’s best you don’t set foot in the castle. Better yet, just stay in here in the house, where it’s much safer.”

#text post #monster boyfriend #obey me headcanons #long post #obey me

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dvesinthewind · 3 years ago

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Ignorance is Bliss | Russell Adler

Bell finally receives the information on her file, including the small factor of her life that Adler has coincidentally forgot to mention.

warnings: angst, younger!bell, language

word count: 1.8K

a/n: this is not a happy ending on adler's part lol! with that being said, feedback is appreciated :)

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Thinking back now, Bell wished she could spare herself the embarrassment. A shade of unforgiving deep red constantly flushed over her cheeks in chagrin as she felt no other than like a juvenile. A stupid young girl that forgot how to replace her rose colored glasses with lenses made with a prescription fit for reality.

How could she not see it? Reluctantly, she reminisced on those frequent nights, where Adler’s hands meticulously roamed unprofessionally where they shouldn’t have. Knowing what she knew now, would things have been different? Would she have stopped herself from feeding those cravings that maybe were not cravings at all? Perhaps those desires were all figments of Adler’s implanted memories. Regardless, the thought alone made her physically sick. The contexts of her stomach felt as though they had flipped themselves upside down. Bell had felt like a puppet with Adler in control of the strings.

Surely, fucking your protégé was not a part of the plan.

Prior to this acknowledgement, Bell surrendered herself to a devoted state of infatuation. Lustful thinking, and big blue eyes, seemed to have nothing on Adler, at first. He made himself scarce, only speaking to her when completely necessary, which evidently was all of the time. Genuinely this was the first time he truly believed he had lost his mind. How could he allow himself to be in a place of such vulnerability? He often reflected on everything he had done. How a Vietnam veteran could possibly allow a few batted eyelashes and youthful skin to throw him off the rails was unknown to him.

Retirement was definitely considered, as well as stepping down from the mission. Perhaps Bell began to mean something to him other than just being the enemy.

Solovetsky was an example.

Bell stood quietly as Adler held the pistol up to her head. The cold metal tickled her temple and sent chills down the column of her spine. Though she could not see him, she imagined him behind closed eyes, stone cold expression as he contemplated life or death. If he was willing to watch her blood seep into the earth's soil, she wasn't so sure. She then wished she could take one last glance into his emotionless eyes before all they saw was the abyss.

He pulled the gun away from her temple with a huge sigh that was heavy with defeat.

"Should I do it myself?" She asked impatiently, as she shifted her weight onto one side. Mentally she knew she resembled a child arguing with their father, nevertheless she disregarded it.

"You're not going to die, Bell." His hands are now held up flat in front of his body, she presumed it was his way of backing down.

"Was that not what you were just doing?"

"Hudson gave me a choice, surprising I know."

Bell eyed him skeptically, staring at him like she could see right through his tinted shades. Lines creased between her brows as they furrowed.

Adler decided to elaborate. "You made the right choice, kid."

She wanted to scoff, roll her eyes so far that they reached the back of her head, but he was right. "Now what? You're not killing me so where do I go?"

"That's to be determined."

His calm and collected demeanor was only sending her further off the edge. Bell wasn't sure how someone could remain so calm with everything they had done hanging loosely off their shoulders.

Bell scoffs humorlessly and she brushes herself past him. "Probably would be a lot easier if you killed me, no?"

"Consider yourself lucky," he grumbled, but she was already too far to hear it.

The safehouse did not feel the same after Solovetsky. A place like this could never feel like home. The orangey lights that were in desperate need of changing still shyly beamed down on them as they trudged around to pack all their things. Concrete and dust was an unwelcoming smell Bell hoped to forget, and never experience again. Selfishly, she wished Lazar was still here. Surely he would be more understanding. She did not regret saving Park, but who knew what would've happened if she knew she could only save one.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, it was all she could think about. She was living a constant lie. No one in this building gave a shit about her, and it wasn't easy to accept.

Hours later, she sat at her desk with a book neatly resting in her lap. Her legs were crossed politely, and her auburn hair was brushed mostly out of her face. Stray pieces tickled the back of her neck, and her arm rose every so often to tuck her bangs behind her ear. Adler watched as she attempted to straighten the crease left over from her dog-earing the page. If times were different, he would chuckle to himself, allowing the corner of his lip to quirk. A silly little habit of hers would typically be intriguing, but now was not the time. Instead, he fumbled with the file in his calloused hands as if it didn't belong, contemplating giving it to her or not. It was without question that she would be asking for it soon enough.

He approached her casually, mentally praying he didn't resemble a dog with their tail between it's legs. She waited before she was done reading the page before giving him the time of day. Understandable. She glanced up at him with eyes full of annoyance. "What is it?" She asked, not careful of her tone. Usually she would correct herself, given the circumstances it was not likely. A tiny voice in the back of her head told her she was convincing herself to be angry. That he was entirely too handsome, and manipulative, and if he wanted her now, he could have her.

Thankfully he shook her from these thoughts. "Can we talk privately? I have something you might be interested in seeing," he said.

"I'm not entirely sure I want to be alone with you."

Part of him wanted to question what she meant by this. He chose not to press. "Get your head out of the gutter," he replies, and if she's positive, his words are laced with a hint of humor. If he's teasing her, there is no facial evidence to prove it. However she knows him well enough to know that to be true already. He gestures towards the empty room with his head, and begins walking without checking to see if she follows. She does. Adler closes the door behind them to find her sitting down in the chair. She means business, he supposes. He sits opposite of her and places down the file carefully. Bell senses caution, studying him as she does so.

"What are you waiting for?" He urges her, and he's not sure why. Perhaps the anxiety building up in his abdomen is becoming too much. He's anticipated the worse, now he is just waiting for it to come.

"Is this my file?"

Please open it, dammit, he's thinking. He nods, and Bell's fingertips graze over the big red lettering.

CLASSIFIED

She smirks to herself, and he thinks its the last time he'll ever see it. Adler attempts to swallow the knot forming in his throat. She's quick to open it up, somewhat akin to a kid on Christmas morning. After she spends some time reading about her relationship with Perseus, she finds the page. The page that has him completely worked up.

Clipped on the left corner is a small image of a young man. Much younger than Adler. In fact, he is not much older than she. Handsome wouldn't be serving him justice. His eyes are lightly crinkled in the corners due to the smirk that is found on his lips. Bell wishes the photo was in color, she would only then get the full experience. "He looks very similar to-"

She stops herself. As her fingertips skim over his face, they freeze suddenly. She must have found it. Yet, the silence grows further. Her eyes are glued to the page, glued to the small note that he made just months before knowing her.

Perseus's son, Andrei.

In relation to "Bell", spouse.

Adler's heartbeat moves from his chest to inside of his skull, thumping in his ears so loudly that he cannot think of anything else. The woman stares at him, blank expression that he can't read. He's not sure if he wishes he could though.

Hot tears begin to brim her waterline. "I was married?" She doesn't allow her voice to break just yet.

"At one point, yes."

She whispers his response to herself in complete and utter disbelief, as if repeating it to herself is the only way she can comprehend it. For the first time in his life, Adler feels small.

"I was married," she repeats, but this time it isn't a question, and her words are dripping of venom. He has completely corrupted her, and Adler can feel the remaining pieces of his heart jump. Tears are now pouring from her porcelain face, black mascara streaming with it. He hesitates but attempts to swipe his thumb underneath her eye to collect some of it. She slaps his hand away. "Don't."

She isn't sure why it bothers her so much but it does. She must've been happy. She was married, it circles her mind like an omen. Before she knows it, she's shaking. Tears are uncontrollably falling from her eyes. It's well overdue. Bell stands, tries to pry open the door but her hands are just too weak. Adler is standing now, his face so full of concern she wishes she could laugh. She imagines the rest of the group outside the door, judging her as they hear her sob. Maybe they knew too.

"Where is he now?" She demands, trying her best to make it audible.

"He's in Russia. We have no reason to believe he has any relation to his father currently." He's as calm as he can be. He isn't sure whether or not it's soothing her, or if she's finally calming down. Perhaps the image of her and her husband living happily away from this shit storm popped into her head.

"Can I see him?"

His chest takes another leap, feeling as though it's detaching from the strings holding it up. "Yes, we think so."

Bell hesitates before taking a seat again. She's thankful he never held her, she's thankful he kept the space. She's a married woman, as ridiculous as it sounds, even if he didn't respect that before.

Adler observes her again while she's not looking. She is so graceful, even with makeup dried on her face like a child decided to try water painting for the first time. He watched as her chest rises and falls, the pattern seemingly slowing as the minutes go by. He wonders what's comforting her. He used to think it was him, now the thought of reuniting with her husband is more than likely entertaining her. For the first time she seems at peace, and Adler finally understands why she was so alluring to begin with.

#russell adler x bell #russell adler #black ops cold war #russell adler fanfic #russell adler x bell oc #cod bocw #call of duty writing #whewww #this is short #but this idea has been lurking in my brain for decades

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magic-is-something-we-create · 3 years ago

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Hello, hello, happy wbw to you, Pax. You've caught my attention with your wbw preference list. Specifically, I'm curious to hear what the ambient effects of magic in your world are.

happy wbw, ren!! i hope you have a lovely day, and apologies in advance, because i've been thinking about this nonstop since i drafted up a shitpost about this idea last night and it got pretty long <3

So! Ambient magical effects - I'll focus on Elementalism, as I've been writing about it the most recently, and I have yet to figure out the ins and outs of a lot of the rest to the same detail!

The initial inspiration for this topic: Dark mages, and how the environment around them changes.

Basically, most of the time, shadows in the Ehlverse are just... average shadows, like real life. They're transparent and immaterial and don't really do anything special, unless you're putting on a shadow puppet show with a flashlight and your hand(s).

But when a Dark mage shows up, those shadows start to get Weird.

Depending on their skill, shadows can do anything from as mild a change as kinda-sorta-maybe bending towards the mage in question, to becoming a non-newtonian fluid with an undistrubed viscosity similar to molasses. TL;DR: shadows become 3D and drip like syrup, can stick to clothes/skin, and actually weigh/hold a person down in the presence of a skilled Dark mage, without any active input from the mage themself.

Other cool ambient effects of Elementalism include:

- Flames reaching toward Fire mages, flaring with their emotions, and ceasing to consume fuel - Condensation forming faster around Water mages, water changing states of matter when startled, and clouds/waves forming with no other reason - A subtle, constant breeze around Air mages, sounds changing volume/reverberation, and air being easier to breathe in general - Rock dust and dirt appearing and kicking up more often around Stone mages, stonework repairing itself, and even mini-earthquakes and random glass shattering - Lost sewing needles, nails, and staples showing up or finding Metal mages like actual magnets, metal sticking together regardless of actual magnetism, and warping of machinery/tools - Less physical pain around Flesh mages, slightly faster healing of minor injuries, and easier physical exertion for longer periods of time - Plants perking up around Plant mages, accelerated growth and more abundant produce, and an ever-present smell of greenery - A subtle, eerie brightness to the eyes of Light mages, regardless of actual color, a general lifting of mood due to them giving off vitamin D like the sun even when they don't glow or use their magic, and more static electricity buildup/hair frizzing - Aside from the shadow effects, Dark mages can also ambiently affect the emotions of those around them (though its a very open two-way street; most Dark mages are more affected themselves than their own affect on others, and thus struggle with mental health)

Thank you for the question!! This one was very fun :D

#a&a #wbw #ehlverse #elementalism #talking with: ren c leyn

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dailytudors · 3 years ago

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Celebrating the New King of England & his Queen Consort:

On the 24th of June 1509, Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon were jointly crowned at Westminster Abbey amidst huge pomp, greeted with public acclaim go from their subjects, high and low.

As some historians point out from contemporary sources, the coronation was a success and up to that point, one of the biggest demonstrations of dynastic power of the century. These contemporaries paint not just a portrait of an impressive king but two young monarchs who were both alike in royal dignity. "... the following morning Catherine and Henry processed from the palace into the abbey, where two empty thrones sat waiting on a platform before the altar. A contemporary woodcut shows them seated level with each other, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling as the crowns are lowered on to their heads. It is a potent image of the occasion, intimate in spite of the crowds behind them, suggesting a relationship of two people equal in sovereignty, respect and love. In reality, the positioning of Henry’s throne above hers, and her shortened ceremonial, without an oath, indicates the actual discrepancy between them. He had inherited the throne as a result of his birth; she was his queen because he had chosen to marry her. Above his head the woodcut depicted a huge Tudor rose, a reminder of his great lineage and England’s recent conflicts; Henry’s role was to guide and rule his subjects. Over Catherine sits her chosen device of the pomegranate, symbolic of the expectations of all Tudor wives and queens: fertility and childbirth. In Christian iconography, it also stood for resurrection. In a way, Catherine was experiencing her own rebirth, through this new marriage and the chance it offered her as queen, after the long years of privation and doubt. Westminster Abbey was a riot of colour. Quite in contrast with the sombre, bare-stone interiors of medieval churches today, these pre-Reformation years made worship a tactile and sensual experience, with wealth and ornament acting as tributes and measures of devotion. Inside the abbey, statues and images were gilded and decorated with jewels, walls and capitals were picked out in bright colours and walls were hung with rich arras. All was conducted according to the advice of the 200-year-old Liber Regalis, the Royal Book, which dictated coronation ritual. The couple were wafted with sweet incense while thousands of candles flickered, mingling with the light streaming down through the stained-glass windows. Archbishop Warham was again at the helm, administering the coronation oaths and anointing the pair with oil. Beside her new husband, Catherine was crowned and given a ring to wear on the fourth finger of her right hand, a sort of inversion of the marital ring, symbolising her marriage to her country. She would take this vow very seriously. The coronation proved popular. Henry wrote to the Pope explaining that he had ‘espoused and made’ Catherine ‘his wife and thereupon had her crowned amid the applause of the people and the incredible demonstrations of joy and enthusiasm’. To Ferdinand, he added that ‘the multitude of people who assisted was immense, and their joy and applause most enthusiastic’. There seems little reason to see this just as diplomatic hyperbole. According to Hall, ‘it was demaunded of the people, wether they would receive, obey and take the same moste noble Prince, for their Kyng, who with great reuerance, love and desire, saied and cryed, ye-ye’. Lord Mountjoy employed more poetic rhetoric in his letter to Erasmus, which stated that ‘Heaven and Earth rejoices, everything is full of milk and honey and nectar. Our king is not after gold, or gems, or precious metals, but virtue, glory, immortality.’ In his coronation verses Thomas More agreed with the general mood, explaining that wherever Henry went ‘the dense crowd in their desire to look upon him leaves hardly a narrow lane for his passage’. They ‘delight to see him’ and shout their good will, changing their vantage points to see him again and again. Such a king would free them from slavery, ‘wipe the tears from every eye and put joy in place of our long distress’. " ~The Six Wives and Many Mistresses Henry VIII by Amy Licence In his book on the Wars of the Roses (Wars of the Roses: The Fall of the Plantagenets and the Rise of the Tudors), Dan Jones also highlights Henry's good looks and the similarities between him and his maternal grandfather, Edward IV, and the reason for his popular appeal: "Young Henry came to the throne confident and ready to rule. He was well educated, charming and charismatic: truly a prince fit for the renaissance in courtly style, tastes and patronage that was dawning in northern Europe. He had been blessed with the fair coloring and radiant good looks of his grandfather Edward IV: tall, handsome, well built and dashing, here was a king who saw his subjects as peers and allies around whom he had grown up, rather than semialien enemies to be suspected and persecuted." Henry VIII understood the power of propaganda. Like his father, he used powerful imagery to push Tudor propaganda but taking a page from his maternal grandfather, Edward IV, Henry also relied on popular acclaim. He knew how to win the people over and dance his way around every argument; his illustrious court and physical prowess won over foreign ambassadors who like Lord Mountjoy and Sir Thomas More also noted his wife's virtues.

#Henry VIII #Catherine of Aragon #coronation #westminster abbey #Tudor History #British Monarchy

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already-14 · 3 years ago

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L o u i s e - B o u r g e o i s Cell (Eyes and Mirrors) 1989–93 Steel, limestone and glass. © The Easton Foundation. Tate Collection . Presented by the American Fund for the Tate Gallery 1994. Cell (Eyes and Mirrors) is one of a series of installations which Bourgeois began making in 1989. The Cells are typically constructed from a mixture of such salvaged architectural materials as old doors, windows and wire mesh combined with found objects and sculptural fragments. This Cell has the structure of a cube. The ceiling and two of the walls are made of woven iron mesh joined by iron bars which are hinged in places. The other two walls consist of iron rods welded in a grid holding large square panes of glass so that they resemble oversize windows. Several spaces in the grid are empty of glass. A large round mirror is attached to a hinged circular panel cut out of the centre of the ceiling. The panel rotates to reflect different aspects of the interior. A large pair of eyes, comprising two polished, black marble eyeballs, stares blankly out of a lump of rough, greyish stone mounted on two sections of steel girder in the centre of the Cell. This sculpture is a later version of a work Bourgeois made in 1984 titled Nature Study (Velvet Eyes) (Collection Galerie Lelong, Zurich). The artist has subsequently developed several versions of eyes carved in marble. As a result of their elemental materials, simple form and large scale, the eyes convey a sense of monumental force, both inviting and repelling the viewer’s gaze. They are surrounded by mirrors of various sizes. Several small mirrors hang off the mesh wall behind them. A large oval-shaped mirror and a small round mirror mounted on tall, old fashioned wood and metal stands are positioned on either side of the eyes. A square mirror is propped on the floor. Breast-like bulges, carved out of the back of the unpolished marble in which the eyes are embedded, are visible through reflection in one of the mirrors. These suggest that the eyes represent a female subject. The many mirrors create a profusion of reflections and altered perspectives which disrupt any sense of direct perception the eyes would seem to propose. Enclosed within the cage-like structure, the eyes are themselves trapped in a space which offers them for viewing by other eyes – those of the viewer. Bourgeois has stated: The subject of pain is the business I am in. To give meaning and shape to frustration and suffering ... The Cells represent different types of pain: the physical, the emotional and psychological, and the mental and intellectual. When does the emotional become physical? When does the physical become emotional: It’s a circle going around and around. Pain can begin at any point and turn in any direction. (Quoted in The Secret of the Cells, p.81.) Bourgeois’s Cells are enclosures from which the viewer is usually excluded physically, but which he or she is invited to penetrate visually. The need and desire to look and the ambiguities inherent in both positions of the one looking and the one being looked at are familiar themes for Bourgeois. Similarly, spaces or forms which provide shelter but also possible entrapment have been present in her work since the 1960s. Toilette and Woman in Bathtub (Tate P77682 and P77691) are two prints in Bourgeois’s Autobiographical Series (1994) depicting voyeurism by another and also of the self. For Bourgeois, mirrors provide a concrete representation of the challenging dynamics involved in looking. She has commented: ‘reality changes with each new angle. Mirrors can be seen as a vanity, but that is not all their meaning. The act of looking into a mirror is really about having the courage it takes to look at yourself and really face yourself.’ (Quoted in The Locus of Memory, p.50.) Further reading: Rainer Crone, Petrus Graf Schaesberg, Louise Bourgeois: the Secret of the Cells, Prestel, Munich 1998, p.160, reproduced (colour) p.118 Louise Bourgeois: Recent Works, Musée d’art contemporain de Bordeaux, Bordeaux 1998 Charlotta Kotick, Terrie Sultan, Christian Leigh,

Louise Bourgeois: The Locus of Memory, Works 1982-1993, The Brooklyn Museum, New York 1994, pp.26, 49, reproduced p.124 Elizabeth Manchester /July 2001/September 2003

https://www.facebook.com/EMeMuskanCahiers/

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aelaer · 4 years ago

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First: welcome home & I hope you get the sleep you need to get back into your routines! Second: it's Feb. 2, a significant day to our beloved Stephen Strange. I know you're exhausted right now, and the timing is poor--but perhaps when you're up to, you could write a little one-shot about his feelings all these years later (is it 2022 or 2023?) on the anniversary of the accident that changed his life forever. Can't think of anyone better suited to write it! xx

This was sent a year ago but last month I planned to have it out for Feb 2nd, hah.

For canon, he comes back in 2023 in what I think was likely after Feb 2nd, so realistically he can address the anniversary again in 2024. It'd feel like only 3 years for him while, in actuality, it'd been 8. But when it comes to his experienced time versus actual passing time, Stephen's pretty messed up without the Decimation already (I'm not sure how I feel about the name of the "Blip" yet.)

The prompter also requested first person after I asked for more details, and I haven't ever written Stephen in first person so I thought I'd give it a go. I know first person isn't everyone's cup of tea, but if you're willing to give it a shot, call me very obliged.

Warning for canon compliance :P

——————

Staring Back In Time Rating: G (well, other than language)

An entry from the memoirs of Doctor Stephen Strange, Earth's Sorcerer Supreme, during his time as the Master of the New York Sanctum, several months after the Battle of Earth against Thanos:

February 2, 2024

Calendars don't mean as much as they used to. Once upon a time my life was ruled by the calendar. Consultation here, surgery there, society dinner over the weekend. Dates were important and generally set without change once marked down.

It doesn't work that way as a sorcerer. I keep a schedule, of course, one that marks down classes with apprentices and adepts and meetings with other Masters, never mind all the business outside of Kamar-Taj. But I learned early on that these set times shifted occasionally to accommodate the emergencies that the order often had to quash down, and it became obvious that as a Master, my schedule was more of a hopeful guideline than anything set in stone. Flexibility was a necessity.

Ever since my return to the living, keeping anything resembling a set schedule has been more of a laughable dream. Earth being the center of two universe-changing, Infinity Stone-powered events in a matter of hours did serious damage to the fabric woven about reality across the planet, and the Masters of the Mystic Arts are going to be dealing with the multidimensional repercussions for years to come. Nothing is predictable in my day-to-day anymore.

My relationship with time was fucked the moment I confronted Dormammu, so I can't say it's a large surprise that calendars have become mostly irrelevant.

If someone had told me that I, Doctor Stephen Strange, a man of order and precision, would learn to live with such unpredictability, I would have laughed in their face. But I'm not the man I once was (and thank God for that; that man was a dick). However, it's also because of this change that I didn't realize the day until it was nearly done.

I was reviewing my schedule for tomorrow, which I had set up on Google Calendar (Google had, naturally, survived the Decimation just fine, but like most other non-vital services, had many of their upcoming products delayed for years. But their email and calendar services continue to work great). Tomorrow's a Saturday, which means nothing in my world. My work continues on. The threats on our reality care little for weekends or holidays.

Still, it was only during this review, shortly before I planned to retire for the night, that I realized that today is February 2nd.

I won't ever forget the day, of course. It was both three years ago and eight years ago—or perhaps many lifetimes ago would be a more accurate description, though I lost track of time in both of my major journeys with the Time Stone. One day I'll write about them. Not now, but one day. Both memories are still too fresh.

The memory of the day of the accident, though? It feels both like yesterday and centuries ago. Some parts of the day are engraved in my memory like a film. I remember the last surgery down to the individual conversations. Christine's "thank you". Nick's watch. The cling of the bullet as I dropped it onto the tray.

I can remember my last conversation with Billy, too, in the car. Every damned word. But the drive itself is fuzzy, even in my head with my memory. I remember it began to rain during the drive, not beforehand, and I know the road was narrow and two-laned. I know I avoided a direct route to avoid traffic, driving first into Jersey before heading north and crossing the river again. But the rest is forgotten to time, or perhaps to trauma.

I was told that Billy was the first to call 9-1-1 as he heard the tearing of metal and shattering of glass before the connection was lost. The driver I hit—I learned much later that she escaped with only minor injuries—called a couple minutes later. But it was out in the mountains, dark, and raining. It took them hours to find me and extract me from the car.

Funny. Never thought I'd ever write about one of the worst days of my life like this. But I was told early on that personal journals were encouraged for all who stay in Kamar-Taj. Something about its therapeutic benefits was mentioned at some point. I only picked up the practice once I learned that each gifted journal was inaccessible to others until the time of their death, and after I mastered the art of enchanting a pen to write the words I spoke. Unfortunately this journal appeared to others after the Decimation, but Wong has reassured me that no one read it and it has since disappeared again from public view.

Still, the point is that, one day, someone just might read this—account of a man who was part of an effort to save the universe. And it is difficult for a reader to judge my actions if they don't know how I was the one who ruined my life. My driving was reckless and stupid. I was running a little late, but it wouldn't have mattered in the long run had I been fifteen, twenty minutes, thirty minutes late. Not really.

Then again, I suppose it would have. I certainly wouldn't be here right now.

One could say that the accident and everything that has followed is some sort of penance for my hubris as a surgeon. I enjoy my newer abilities—quite a bit—but the responsibility that has come with them has not come without its own hardships and sacrifices. Perhaps the worst of the sacrifices were the ones I was unable to prevent others from performing, all for the sake of the universe.

Those sacrifices were made willingly, but I cannot help but feel responsible for them, regardless.

During my first winter again returned to the living, when the days grew colder and my hands ached in the bad weather, and the only thoughts to accompany the pain were bitter, another thought was born. I was tempted, for the first time in a long time, to give it all up, restore my fine motor skills with channeled magic, and go back to the world I once knew, for a life much, much easier than this one is now. Even with all the troubles that had cropped up as people tried to reorganize a world that doubled in size overnight, it was miles away from the difficulties we were facing in Kamar-Taj.

Their sacrifices—the fates I pushed so many people towards—quelled the idea quickly. It did little to ease the physical pain or sting of guilt, but it lifted the temptation. And ever since that day, I have considered the situation and I don't think I will ever be tempted by the idea of giving up my duties for an easier, pain-free life again.

And I suppose that counts for something.

——————

(Hey look, my interest in geography's leaked again.)

I've always wondered where Stephen actually crashed mostly because New York City is *flat* and those mountains were *very much not flat*. I figured out the bridge that he crossed to get out of the city (there are like, 21 bridges that lead out of Manhattan) was the George Washington Bridge, and it leads to New Jersey—but that's not necessarily useful because it can quickly turn back into New York state if you turn north. We also know he crashed down into a body of water, which *might* be the Hudson, but also might not, but that the body of water is to his left, which narrows it down a bit. But again, not much. And the site of his crash is so dark in the videos and screenshots that I can barely tell what's on it. It looks like a bridge and some industrial building, so the Hudson's a good guess, but otherwise? Well, basically I turned on the topography part of Google maps and started searching.

The 202 on the east side of the river just north of Peekskill (again in New York) matches the movie road's windiness, height, and closeness to the river, and even has a bridge that could be just to the north of the crash site. Unfortunately the railing's off and there's no industrial building thingy by the bridge. It also makes the route out of the city via George Washington Bridge make no sense. Like the Stark Industries area in LA in the films, it's probably a completely fictional landscape.

But as I wasn't able to find a better locale that was still close enough to NYC to direct an emergency helicopter to, my headcanon for this scene is that he left via George Washington bridge to avoid some major traffic or something, crossed the river via the 287 a bit further up north to get back to the east side of the river, then went up the 9 to the 202. Unless someone who lives in the area can find the actual road he was driving (if it's real), this is what I'm gonna go with. (And if someone DOES please let me knowwwww). Funny enough, I don't see him getting led to *his* hospital totally unrealistic, because he'd need a very talented orthopedic surgeon with a specialty in hands to come in, and generally speaking a patient can be helicoptered to another hospital where such a surgeon is available. If Stephen is working at the Metro-General, it's likely they can afford a large cast of talented surgeons. So I don't think Nick was necessarily the lead surgeon in his case, just one of many necessary surgeons.

#sobeautifullyobsessed #stephen strange #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange #mcu fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #gen fic #ask #answered #prompt fill

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argentvive · 4 years ago

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Lyra and Will’s Chemical Wedding - Part 3

Part 2 is here: https://argentvive.tumblr.com/post/639352508929687552/lyra-and-wills-chemical-wedding-part-2

Fermentation and Exaltation

The final, elevated, permanent Chemical Wedding occurs at the Fermentation stage. A reminder of what that can look like:

Rosarium philosophorum, “Fermentario,” 16th century.

Lyra and Will embrace and kiss, then have a brief conversation:

"Like Mary said," he whispered, "you know straight away when you like someone --when you were asleep, on the mountain, before she took you away, I told Pan-- "

"I heard," she whispered, "I was awake and I wanted to tell you the same and now I know what I must have felt all the time: I love you, Will, I love you-- "

The word love set his nerves ablaze. All his body thrilled with it, and he answered her in the same words, kissing her hot face over and over again, drinking in with adoration the scent of her body and her warm, honey-fragrant hair and her sweet, moist mouth that tasted of the little red fruit.

Curiously I haven’t been able to find an alchemy image of the Chemical Wedding where the couple are simply kissing. Either they are just standing there, or they are physically joined. But here’s one where they are holding hands, from Philosophia reformata (1622).

Notice the trees. The bird symbolizes the lovers’ volatile state. Pullman uses birds frequently in the books--but not lions. So we can ignore them, though the tails are quite interesting, even serpent-like.

Will and Lyra have gone through the solve by dipping their feet in the stream. Now Will explicitly--and Lyra implicitly?--go through the coagula, with his nerves “ablaze.”

There are no near drownings, torture, burning, or dismemberment for this solve et coagula. Just cleansing and love. Will and Lyra share the taste of the little red fruit--they have achieved the Philosopher’s Stone. They have reached the Exaltation stage.

Multiplication and Projection

Exaltation is only the 10th of Ripley’s 12 Gates (stages). Will Pullman gives us Multiplication and Projection too? Will Lyra and Will’s union change their worlds?

Yes! Pullman ends the Chemical Wedding scene with a sentence hinting at its world-saving significance: “Around them there was nothing but silence, as if all the world were holding its breath. “

The chapter shifts to Balthamos’ confrontation with Father Gomez, who has been pursuing Will and Lyra. After he drowns Gomez, Balthamos speaks to his departed beloved, Baruch: “Will and the girl are safe, and everything will be well.” Another hint that the repairing of the world is coming.

According to Lyndy Abraham’s definition, during multiplication “the weight, volume, and potency of the Stone are greatly augmented.” Then, during projection, the Philosopher’s Stone “is thrown over the base metal to transmute it into silver or gold.” (Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery, pp. 132, 157).

The scene switches to Mary Malone. and she is the first to see the change Lyra and Will have wrought, the Projection of their love into the world.

The terrible flood of Dust in the sky had stopped flowing. It wasn't still, by any means; Mary scanned the whole sky with the amber lens, seeing a current here, an eddy there, a vortex further off; it was perpetual movement, but it wasn't flowing away any more. In fact, if anything, it was falling like snowflakes.

She thought of the wheel trees: the flowers that opened upward would be drinking in this golden rain. Mary could almost feel them welcoming it in their poor parched throats, which were so perfectly shaped for it, and which had been starved for so long.

The young ones, said Atal.

She nearly put the spyglass to her eye, but held back, and returned it to her pocket. There was no need for the glass; she knew what she would see; they would seem to be made of living gold. They would seem the true image of what human beings always could be, once they had come into their inheritance.

The Dust pouring down from the stars had found a living home again, and these children-no-longer-children, saturated with love, were the cause of it all. (AS p. 496)

Lyra and Will are transformed into gold. Golden rain heals the land. Dust--love, consciousness, free will, however you define it--is saved. Saved by Lyra and Will’s love for each other.

This is Pullman’s version of the Eucatastrophe, the Joyous Turn that should conclude every “fairy-story,” to use J R R Tolkien’s terms. And for a moment, for a day or two, all is well.

Part 4 next.

#alchemy #chemical wedding #lyra belacqua #will parry #will x lyra #silverparry #the amber spyglass #his dark materials #mary malone #rosarium philosophorum #philosophia reformata #fermentation #exaltation #multiplication #projection #eucatastrophe

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worldbuildingworkshop · 3 years ago

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Worldbuilding Tutorial #11: Example World A

Intro From this point on, I’m putting the example tutorials under a readmore so that they’re not taking up as much space. This will be an example out how to outline history, using World A; specifically, I’ll be using this world to demonstrate the sequential method I outlined in the tutorial portion.

Deciding Priorities: World A is an odd one to start with because it’s not one that lends itself well to history. It’s a world that roots itself quite firmly in the present, and the beings that live in it are by and large not ones to keep records of history. So I’ll likely be doing a bit more outlining than I would have done on my own, for the sake of providing an example. I’ll use this one to demonstrate the sequential development method, since that’ll work best here.

Check Your Notes: One of the other reasons this world lends itself well to sequential building is because it’s a late hunter-gatherer to early agricultural world so far as technological development goes. That’s quite early on in a world’s history. Societies are mostly structured as villages of extended familial bands rather than broader governments (with a couple of exceptions). That said, historical development in any world you’re making doesn’t need to reflect that of the real world - and because of the underlying metaphysical traits of this world, that applies here. Like I said above, it’s a world that roots itself firmly in the present and in terms of internal logic has less need for history than we do; it also has less need to progress the way we think of progress in terms of technological and civic development. These are all things to keep in mind.

That said:

Where To Start As mentioned above, most of the societies in this world are in a late hunter-gatherer to early-agricultural phase of development. What ties these regions together are similar cultural and environmental features rather than any sort of overarching government. There are the Seelie and Unseelie fey in the Misty Moors, who dislike each other; the humans in Region #3, who get along well with the Seelie; the humans in Region #4, who are at the moment largely isolated; and the elves in Region #6, who are hostile to everyone.

So where does this go? One of the forces that tends to drive people to change is the existence of an outside threat. This can be anything from an outside invading force to severe changes in environmental conditions. Another force that has the potential to drive large changes is significant technological developments: writing, metallurgy, large sailing ships, etc. Often these sorts of development hinge on the discovery of a new resource, or on discovering a new way to use an existing resource - or, at times, a combination of both.

That gives us options. You can pick one you like most or that feels like the most likely option; or, you can forecast them and pick the one that seems most interesting to you. For sake of example, I’ll demonstrate forecasting.

Natural Changes: As potential for large threats go, sweeping environmental change is quite possible for this world. There are two primary candidates: one is weather, one is geologic. In the case of weather, because this part of the world is at such a low latitude, a Great Freeze of some kind is very likely; this would drive most of the societies at lower latitudes up to warmer pastures - which, in this case, means that humans and elves move up into the Misty Moors. This has a great deal of potential for conflict between the Fey and Mortals, and is a possibility that stands to force some cooperation between the Unseelie and the Seelie.

The other possibility is geologic: a massive earthquake, or perhaps the emergence of a new volcano. Given that, in this world, the core of the planet is made of mana - and thus rocks are incredibly magically powerful - the fallout from such a thing is most likely to be a long-term positive despite short-term destruction. Based on the tectonic plates, either an earthquake or a volcano are most likely to occur along the northernmost side of this region - which is to say, in Unseelie territory. This likely results in an empowering of the Unseelie, who then turn that on the Seelie; who may in turn seek shelter with humans. This has the potential both for conflict and common cause - in that the greater contact with Fey will likely result in humans both fearing and hating them more, and learning from them and intermingling more.

Invasion: Without the factor of a natural change - as above - the most likely source for any sort of invasion or large-scale conflict rests with the elves. One possible branch of this is looking to wipe nearby fey out as a way of proving themselves; another possible branch of this is expanding into less inhospitable territory, and thus looking to conquer humans. Both would not be out of the question either.

Technological Changes: Because most of the magic in this world rests in the bedrock, a technological change to do with stone, metal, or gems is the most likely to result in a big change. The most obvious candidate here is metallurgy, because that’s the path we took in the real world: and in this world, that likely develops into the potential for magical weapons. Another less obvious - but perhaps more interesting - candidate is glassmaking. Glass would be inherently magical as well, and paves the way for technology to do with lenses and far seeing. Any of these technologies are likely to develop with mortals rather than fey. The “where” of it becomes more interesting from there: in that humans have the most access to the physical resources in either case, but the elves are more likely to discover how to craft both by dint of being magic-users and because of their emphasis on skill.

None of these are mutually exclusive, of course - it is possible for more than one of these to happen, either simultaneously or in sequence. One of the things that is important to remember about this particular world is the importance of Fate; and the way that fate drives cycles in the world. As such, “most realistic” has little to do with it - it’s more about what makes sense for the world, and in this case the world is one possibility in a self-aware cosmos trying to understand the nature of life, and in this case the cosmos looking to understand the nature of life from the perspective of emotion.

What Happens Next Given the above, the most likely event to happen first is the invasion of the elves. Their emotions are strong - stronger than humans’ - and they have a great deal of reason to feel anger towards both humans and fey. Most likely, the world gives the elves a prophecy that it is their time to cause hurt in return for the rejection they were dealt; and the elves invade.

In the state that humans are in - so many scattered villages - this does not end well for them. The elves have a more organized society, access to direct magic, and an emphasis on honing skill; the advantages that humans have are numbers and greater physical ability, but those will only do so much without an ability to organize them. Many humans are killed; those who are not are likely colonized by the elves, which may take many forms. Other humans likely flee to the fey woods and the moors, which is likely to instigate another crisis amongst the fey on its own. Some humans are likely killed by the fey in turn; in other places, alliances are formed and lines are drawn against elves. From these alliances are likely to come more elves - born outside of the budding empire - who are in turn possibly either killed, leave to join the empire, or else become their own way of being. The conflict lasts for some years; then, eventually, settles out.

With the new lands that the elves have conquered, they gain access to new resources. Farming, plants, and agriculture is one facet of this; metallurgy and glassworking, as noted above, is another. This technology is likely kept and developed away from humans, who are involved in the labor to acquire these materials but not to craft them; and then used by the elves to enforce any boundaries between themselves and humans in society as whole. Humans are not stupid, and most likely work to steal this technology or else develop it themselves; but not before -

Because each generation has its own prophecy in this world, it’s time for a new one. This one comes in the form of a volcano that erupts on the borders of Unseelie territory. The Unseelie, empowered, wreak havoc on the Seelie fey on the southern end of the Misty Moors and keep pushing into what are now elven conquered lands. This is a threat that the elves will not suffer, but most likely cannot stand up to; and, with the humans having stolen metallurgy and glasswork with intent to use them, the elven empire likely dissolves both from the inside and the outside at once.

This ends one of two ways. Either the empire crumbles into chaos as elves fight unseelie and humans and seelie, and the Unseelie end up on top; or, the conflict forces Mortals and the Seelie to work together. Touching back on this world as a way to understand life and emotion, the second option seems the way to go.

Humans and Seelie is an easy alliance to make; and, with elves having lost their hold on humans, humans are able to use that as a great enough threat to the elves to force an alliance with them as well. Most of all, it seems likely that the key here is the elves: not the empire, but the elves born outside of it. By nature of being like but also unlike both sides, they have the potential to become intermediaries in ways that make the whole process work. The Unseelie are pushed back, their access to the source of the problem - the volcano - must be cut away somehow eventually, and life settles back into something that resembles where we started: only, a few steps ahead. This time, we have new resources and technologies; and this time, there is a greater organization and interconnection to it all; and this time, there is a greater understanding between Fey and Elves and Humans - for now.

After That... You’ve seen the process above; from this point, it is essentially rinse and repeat. What are the big factors that are most likely to induce a big change? Which ones are the right ones, and how do they play out - and how does that change the situation? You follow the trail for as long as it leads, until you find a place you want to stop for now and spend a little more time in; and that’s where your story comes from.

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

So that’s the sequential method. I’ll demonstrate working backwards to construct a history in the next example with World B.

#worldbuilding #worldbuilding tutorial #worldbuilding tutorial 12 #example world a #history #outlining history #forecasting history #timeline #timelines #world development #history development

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Text

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape

track #3: Rescue my Heart by Liz Longley

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

synopsis: In which Vision arrives to help break the Cap’s team out of Raft prison post-Civil War. Wanda recalls fond memories of the compound and comes to terms with the idea of living on the run.

CW: depiction of imprisonment

The hum of electricity was the only warning that Wanda Maximoff had before fluorescent white lights impaired her vision. For 15 seconds she was effectively blind as her eyes frantically tried to adjust to the harsh lighting. That was the 9th time she had been abruptly awoken in such a way and the panic never lessened.

Her day at Raft prison started the same as every morning that had preceded it, the door to her cage was opened and she was led to the bathroom to freshen up before being returned for a meagre breakfast. Sometimes she would walk past the rest of the team, they all looked just as battered and exhausted as she felt.

Wanda wasn’t let out of her straitjacket for breakfast and was spoon fed whatever mush they deemed nutritious enough for the day from a metal tray. It was a humiliating experience. It was made worse by the drugs they mixed into her meal each morning that were so strong she would fall asleep an hour later and often not be conscious again until the following morning. She supposed it was their way of trying to keep her under control, little did they know that it was only serving to make her angrier, more dangerous. Walking past her bruised teammates each morning filled her with rage, sitting and being spoon fed by a guard filled her with rage, but underlying it all was a sense of hopelessness, an acknowledgement that maybe she deserved to be in here. Clint had been wrong, getting up off her ass hadn’t fixed anything.

Each morning after eating her vibranium glass door was locked once more and Wanda lied back on the stiff bed that took up most of the space in her cell as she waited for the sedatives to kick in.

In the few hours she’d been conscious in the last week she’d mostly spent her time thinking. Wanda was sure that Steve had to have some sort of plan – she knew that he hadn’t been at the compound when they’d all been taken in – so she didn’t trouble herself with obsessing over a plan to get out. That would just make her panic and she didn’t want to let her powers get out of control, not in such an enclosed space as this. In the meantime, she had decided to bide her time and wait for a sign from Steve.

Instead, her thoughts were consumed with what had happened before her imprisonment. Some of the memories were painful but overall, her time at the compound had been pleasant. She was living in a better space than she had most of her life and while the empty place of her twin brother would never be filled… she was starting to heal. Working more on controlling her powers had been by far the best part of her year. The training made her feel strong, it made her want to protect people. Vision had helped a lot with training, he was one of the only ones who would last long in a fight against her, and their sparring practice had always been a great workout. Not for the first time in the last ten days did she cast her mind back to the last time they had fought.

"Don't go easy on me, Vis," Wanda said raising her hands before her and stepping into a defensive stance.

"If I had been 'going easy on you' Captain Rogers wouldn't have made us fight outside this time," Vision replied his cape fluttering in a non-existent breeze. He was right, the last time they had fought in one of the training rooms the roof had almost caved in. So, they had been forced to relocate outside where the only breakables were themselves.

"Physical combat first?" Wanda suggested. "No magic tricks."

"I am not sure that 'magic tricks' is the most suitable-" Vision began waving a hand lightly between them.

"Too slow,” she cut in, lunging forward and grabbing Vision’s arm, kicking his leg out from beneath him. Her leg swung right through him as he phased without hesitation.

Hand to hand combat without the fire power of their respective powers had always been their weak point in training, they had both come to rely so heavily on the magic of the stone that was so intrinsic to both their identities that it was difficult to not depend on it. Nonetheless, they needed to be ready for a situation where close quarter combat meant explosive power wasn’t an option.

Wanda took Vision’s next oppening to try and unbalance his other leg, but he was prepared for the kick this time and managed to dodge. They sparred for what felt like half an hour but in reality was only a few minutes, neither gaining any traction aside form a few hits to the ribs each.

In a desperate attempt to land a blow Wanda side-stepped Vision’s throw, ran for the wall at her back, kicked off it with one well-placed foot (aided in force by a little bit of her power) and launched herself at Vision. She would have landed a significant hit in the chest if he hadn’t turned and caught her just at that moment.

Wanda slammed into him and Vision was left supporting her effortlessly with one hand around her waist, she in turn pressed a steadying hand against his shoulder, immediately aware of how close they were. She was breathing heavily; her hair likely a mess about her face from where it had come loose from the ponytail she had tried to gather it up in. Vision’s eyes were focused wholly on her own, wide and darting across her face and for a moment she was tempted to reach into his mind and feel what was running through it. His mind was sometimes… difficult to navigate, even when he did let her in to communicate.

Vision slowly lowered her to the ground.

“I—” he began but didn’t have the chance to continue because Wanda had pressed her hands against his chest and sent an almighty wave of psionic energy through her palms. Before Vision could continue, he was launched into the air, flipping once before using his own powers to stop himself in mid-air. “I thought you said physical combat?” His brow was furrowed at her trick, but there was something shadowing his eyes beyond that and it made Wanda want to tease him more.

“Oops,” she said and launched herself at him again as he reached the ground. Vision hadn’t expected the fight to continue so Wanda managed to dive cleanly for his waist, hitting his chest with all the force thrown behind her shoulder in an attempt to take him down. It wasn’t a pretty or graceful move, but she’d thought she’d chosen the right moment to catch him sufficiently off guard. He twisted them in mid-air, and they fell to the ground together, his powers softening their landing.

“This is supposed to be a fight, Vis,” Wanda said content to fold her arms in mock disapproval, gazing up at him.

“I know,” he said, and they were close enough she could feel his breath flutter against her face from where he was, holding himself above her. “I’m just using the same cheat techniques of seduction that you’ve been using on me.”

A laugh bubbled up despite the embarrassment that was making her cheeks flush. Perhaps Wanda had teased him too much?

“Is it really cheating if it works?” Wanda asked deciding to push him that little bit further. She lifted one hand to his chin and trailer a single finger down his throat, she could’ve sworn his eyes started to glow a little. He lowered himself a little more until their noses were brushing and right when he closed his eyes she acted.

Taking advantage of his surprised state she lifted her leg and kneed him squarely in his chest, sending forth a second pulse of power. Yet again he flew away, this time so distracted that he fully hit the wall behind them, causing cracks to cobweb out through the concrete.

“That,” Vision said as he floated to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck and rolling his shoulders, “was not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair in love and war.” Wanda shrugged pleasantly, but instinctively reached out to see if hitting the wall had caused any real pain.

“Don’t worry, it’ll take more than a concrete wall to hurt me.”

“Just checking.”

“I told you two to train, not flirt and break the walls,” a clearly grumpy Steve said as he made his way out into the courtyard. A few minutes too late the pair realised that they’d had a small audience looking on from within the compound.

“I have no idea what you’re talk about,” Wanda said crossing her arms and walking over to make her way back inside.

“Yes Captain, what exactly do you mean?” Vision asked, joining in on her denial as the pair went inside.

“Break another wall and you won’t be able to fight each other anymore,” he warned but was smiling in a way that told Wanda he was glad for their progress in training.

“Yeah, but what happens when they can’t take their tension out on each other through training?” Sam whispered to Natasha in a way that made it clear he intended everyone else to hear.

Wanda let herself come back to the unfortunate reality she was now confined to live in. She had been replaying similar memories for the last ten days, Vision was a common feature of the happy memories, but the rest of the team also filled her thoughts. It was something to keep the worse thoughts at bay and her pent-up power in check.

The loud clank of the prison gates surrounding her cage as the guards changed watch startled Wanda slightly. There was always noise here and it had been getting on her nerves for approximately eight and a half days now. Back at the compound her room was soundproof so she could enjoy silence when she needed. It had made it easier to focus on honing her powers and reaching out with her mind to try and feel the other people at the compound. That's not to say that her concentration wasn't often broken by Vision floating through her bedroom wall, usually stopping by for a profound chat about humanity or to ask her to explain human quirks he couldn't find sufficient answers to online.

Wanda missed him. As she lay on the bed waiting to be taken to the bathroom before breakfast, she closed her eyes and let her mind reach out. The noise and light made it difficult to retain focus as she reached further through the walls. She recognised the rest of her teammates minds and brushed over the guard’s minds, not wishing to delve too deep into their thoughts. The effort it took almost made her loose her breath and she let the power go. Telepathy was still a lot easier at closer proximity.

She was about to stand up and try and get a guard’s attention to let her out to the bathroom when she felt her hands begin to tingle within the straitjacket. Something was about to happen. Wanda did her best to get her hair out of her face with her hands bound. Her instincts were all she had to rely on as she turned slowly in a circle within the cage, waiting.

Abruptly, soldiers began yelling and hands flew to their weapons. Half a dozen of the black clad guards ran to her cage, circling around her and assuming a defensive position with their guns raised at the various doors leading out of her enclosure.

"Something wrong?" Wanda asked innocently.

To no surprise, her guards didn’t respond.

Wanda felt her powers rising faintly beneath her skin, calling out to an unknown force.

“Who’s there?” One guard to her left barked gruffly. Her call was answered a moment later as one of the heavy, steel doors was blown to bits. A pipe burst from above and dust fell from the trembling ceiling. A powerful steel beam flew out and struck two of the guards in front of her and they flew across the room. Wanda smiled for the first time in 9 days when she saw the figure that emerged from the dust and rubble.

Two guards made out for Vision, their guns firing but he phased easily avoiding the bullets and grabbed one guard in each hand and threw them to the side. Wanda noted how, despite everything, Vision didn’t cause any unnecessary harm to the people themselves and used only enough force to incapacitate them.

Wanda let her own power grow, feeling the straitjacket begin to strain as the powerful red mist from her hands spread and tore at her restraints. Feeling her power well up like a damn about to break she let out a yell as she tore her arms free of their constraints. The power that exploded forth shattered the cage surrounding her, forcing the remaining guards to dive in order to avoid the flying shards. Two of them made a move to get her but she raised her hands and subdued them, sending them to the ground unconscious as her eyes burned a deep red.

Alarms were blaring now, and the lights appeared to be flickering overhead but no more guards came from the behind the destroyed doors.

Wanda turned in a full circle, expecting another fight but the only one still standing was Vision. He reached for her just as her legs, weakened from the sudden burst of power after 10 days dormant, made to give out from under her.

“Vis,” she said stretching her arm towards him as he stopped her from falling.

“Wanda,” he murmured, the relief emanating from him was clear. He gathered her up into his arms and hefted her against his chest gently, an arm tucked behind her back and one under her knees. "We must go."

“But the others–”she began as Vision rose up from the ground.

“Captain Rogers will see to getting them out safely,” Vision said and shot for the ceiling of the prison, the stone in his head sending a powerful beam through the roof and carving them out an escape route.

Wanda reached out with her hands and used her power to stop any of the rubble hitting them on the way out. The moment they hit the crisp air outside Wanda let loose a cry of relief. She was hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. It was likely due to the lack of food and sunlight but perhaps it was also because she finally felt safe for the first time in 9 days. She reached up and wound her arms around Vision's neck, pulling herself into his chest to avoid the harsh wind that was whipping the ocean below into a turmoil.

Wanda pressed one of her palms against Vision and tried to communicate her gratitude. As he flew her away from the prison, she took solace in the stability of his power, the power they both shared.

By the time Vision arrived at the coordinates Captain Rogers had directed him to, Wanda was fast asleep. The safe house was a quaint little thing, far less grand than what any of them had grown accustomed to at the compound. But it was well off the beaten track, down a winding driveway and hidden in a copse of dense trees. Still, Vision remained on guard.

The house was two stories high and distinctly cubic in appearance. Its exterior was simple and seemed more built for durability than aesthetic.

As Vision's feet reached the dewy ground Wanda stirred in his arms.

“Where are we?” She asked sleepily, slowly coming to her senses.

“Somewhere safe,” Vision said as he approached what appeared to be the door of the house. It was a small grey rectangle that blended in with fairly well with the rest of the unattractive building.

“It's ugly,” Wanda noted turning her head to look at the looming grey building.

“We can’t really afford to be picky,” Vision said in amusement before stopping abruptly as the front door opened.

“About damn time,” Natasha Romanov said smiling grimly at the pair who seemed so out of place against the backdrop of the thick forest. "You'd better get inside."

“Natasha,” Vision said nodding his greeting, and the unspoken truce now struck between them, as he passed her in the doorway.

“Vision,” Romanov returned the greeting. “How are you feeling Wanda?”

“I'm tired even though I've been sedated for the last nine days, I'm not hungry even though I haven't eaten a real meal in two weeks, and I feel like being locked in a straitjacket has done terrible things to my joints,” Wanda said looking down at her arms.

“We’ll see to it that you get fixed up,” Natasha said and began leading them through the rest of the house. “It’s not much but it’s better than nothing and we should be able to lay low for a while.”

Each room was simple with the bare minimum incorporated into the cubic design. On the ground floor they walked through a kitchen where a small table was cramped by five chairs, and beyond it was a living room occupied by what looked like a musty couch and a collection of mismatched pillows.

“There's a couple of bedrooms upstairs, I'll go get a first aid kit and see if we can get you hooked up to an IV,” Natasha said gesturing to the staircase they had arrived at and darting off down another corridor.

"You can put me down now," Wanda said looking up at Vision.

"We're almost there now, I might as well carry you the rest of the way," Vision said taking the stairs two at a time. When they reached the top, he ducked through the first doorway they found and into a small bedroom. There was a single bed in the corner, a chair opposite it and a window facing out over the forest they had come in from. Vision looked curiously at the window, marvelling at the way it had been created so that from the outside it appeared there were no windows but those inside still had the ability to monitor their surroundings. The house was effectively a bunker and seemed to be built to withstand a small attack, this helped put him a little more at ease.

Vision set Wanda down on the bed and she sagged against the pillows.

"You shouldn’t have come for me," Wanda said swallowing thickly as she turned on her side so she could see Vision properly as he stood in front of the window.

"I'm only sorry that I didn't come sooner," he said turning to face her. "I’m sorry I let you go. I should have stopped them from taking you."

"No you shouldn't have, you did the right thing," Wanda insisted, doing her best to remain seated despite every bone in her body asking for rest. "Vis you signed the Sokovia Accords, at the moment we're fugitives and if they find us with you…” she trailed off and shivered at the thought of him being caught.

"That is a risk I am willing to take," Vision said firmly, his eyes locked on Wanda's, their gaze only breaking when Natasha entered the room with two IV bags.

"I've never actually hooked someone up to one of these before," Natasha said turning the bag over in her hand as though expecting to find instructions.

"I can do it," Vision said taking them from her.

"Have you done this before?" Wanda asked hesitantly.

"No," Vision replied hooking the IV bag up to a tube and preparing a needle from the first aid kit, "but I understand how it has done and I’ve read about it online."

"Better you than me I suppose,” Natasha asked taking the seat opposite the bed.

"Just don't miss my vein," Wanda grumbled and stretched her bare arm out for Vision.

"What happened while we were locked up?" She asked, wincing slightly as Vision slid the needle into her arm.

Natasha began to describe the events of the last few days. How Tony had broken into the Raft and got information from Sam about Steve and Bucky's location and subsequently got himself beaten to a pulp. Just as Natasha finished updating her there was the sound of boots on the stairs.

"It's ok, it's just the others," Natasha assured them when Wanda and Vision both startled at the sound.

"Well, isn't this a nifty little safe house that you've got going here?" Sam said as he poked his head around the doorframe and stepped into the small room. "Wanda, Vision, thanks for leaving the rest of us behind."

"Enough Sam, without Vision things wouldn't have gone over as smoothly," Steve said clapping the Falcon on the shoulder. Steve was the only other one to enter the room and looked as though he’d spent a few days in Raft with them. His left eyebrow was split along the side and he was sporting bruises and cuts that were clearly healing more quickly than the average human but still looked painful.

"Where's Clint and Scott?" Vision asked, finishing with Wanda's drip and hanging the bag from the metal frame that Natasha had also brought up to allow the fluids to drip down.

"They decided to stay," Steve said, eliciting a sound of surprise from Natasha, "seems that they have been negotiating with the Secretary of State who is willing to allow them to live with their families under house arrest."

"That makes sense," Natasha said nodding thoughtfully. "What about you?"

"I'm not going to serve time for something that wasn't wrong in the first place," Sam said shrugging and leaning against the wall behind him.

"In the meantime, we need a plan," Steve said folding his arms and looking at the small group gathered in the room that was far too cramped for comfort.

"Hmm not sure I feel so good about Vision, still," Sam said shrugging. "Up until last week we were on very different sides."

"I am not here as an Avenger on 'Mr. Stark's side'," Vision said stepping up to Sam and looking him directly in the eyes. "Remember I helped get you out of that prison."

"Come on now guys, that’s enough." Steve said putting a hand on each of their shoulders and pushing them apart. "We have bigger problems."

"What could be bigger than being fugitives?" Wanda asked, meaning it to sound more light-hearted than it ended up coming out.

"For now, we’re safe and that’s what matters, this house seems good enough to lie low until we figure out our next steps,” Natasha said shrugging, looking around at the grey, boxy room.

"Year that won’t be happening, the house is Stark's," Steve said rocking back on his heels, he’d clearly been waiting for the right time to break the news to them.

"What?" Natasha and Wanda exclaimed at the same time.

"Tony knows about this? Why didn't you tell me?"

"He's been acquiring safe houses like this for a couple of years now," Steve replied.

"Talk about paranoia," Wanda muttered.

"You think Tony knows we are here?" Natasha asked standing up to join Vision who had returned to his post, looking out the window.

"I do not believe that Mr Stark's attention is turned in your direction for the time being," Vision spoke up. "But it is possible that this is not the best place for you at the moment."

"Don't worry, we'll be ok staying here for the night but tomorrow you need to move out," Steve said gesturing to Wanda, Sam and Natasha. "You're on the run now, that means avoiding as many people as you can. At the moment we don't have wanted posters plastered across the media, but you can be sure as soon as the press gets word of our escape Ross is going to have them broadcasting everywhere to try and recover us."

"What about me?" Vision asked turning to face Steve.

"You're going back to base, tonight," Steve said firmly.

"I will not leave," Vision replied just as surely.

"Yes, you will, Vis," Wanda said adjusting how she was sitting on the bed. It seemed that already the drip was helping with her energy levels and Vision could see some of the colour returning to her face.

"At the moment, no one has any idea that you have left the compound and it's better if it stays that way," Steve said and gestured to the group before him, "the rest of us are outlaws, but you still have a duty to Tony and the Sokovia Accords."

"I will not leave," Vision repeated.

"He's right Vis," Wanda began reaching for his arm and gripping it tightly.

"I know logically that I have to leave but I don't want to." Vision reluctantly corrected himself gazing intensely at Wanda.

"You have to." She whispered.

The room was quiet for a moment as Vision's mind processed things at a million miles a second. Perhaps he would be of more help from the compound where he was in the know regarding all information surrounding the fugitives before him. Perhaps, as painful as the idea was to him, the best way to keep Wanda from harm would be from a distance.

"Very well,” he sighed, and Wanda's lips turned up in a small, soft smile.

"Good," Steve said folding his arms. "We leave in the morning, we'll go the same way until we reach the border and then I'll split from the group to go for Bucky while you guys continue on. From now on we're going to be doing a lot of running."

"Thank goodness, being locked up in a cage for the last 9 days was deadly boring,” Wanda said cynically.

"Damn Cap," Sam said his sigh tainted with disbelief. "I don’t wanna be the one to say it, but what’s our end goal here?"

"At the moment, stay alive and free. This might be a road that doesn't end for a while, if ever." Steve turned to leave the room. "There's some food in the kitchen downstairs but for the time being you should all get some rest. Vision thank you for your help, it was appreciated." He clapped Vision on the shoulder as he left the room, his footsteps thudding down the stairs again.

"Alright Wilson, let’s get you some food and ice for that nasty bruise," Natasha said guiding Sam from the room and closing the door behind her. Vision was quiet for a moment as he turned back to the window trying to quiet the million and one thoughts running through his head. He was so distracted it took Wanda calling his name twice for him to register.

"Yes sorry."

"I asked if you’re alright?"

"I should be the one asking that," Vision said shaking his head and turning to sit on the edge of Wanda's bed.

"That doesn't mean I can't ask you too," she said curling her legs up beneath her and gazing at him intently.

"I don't want to leave… but I have already caused Mr. Stark more than enough trouble and I fear that if I remain with you, I will only put you at risk."

"What happened back in Germany wasn't your fault Vis, I'm sure Rhodey doesn't blame you," Wanda said reaching out to squeeze his arm and the touch alone helped clear his mind.

"I'll see you again won't I?" Vision asked turning his head towards Wanda. "I have been rather….lonely the last nine days, three hours and 47 minutes."

Wanda smiled and rolled her eyes. "Of course you'll see me again, silly."

"I do not believe I was asking a silly question."

"I promise you'll see me again," Wanda said, serious this time, putting one hand over his and Vision sensed the power beneath her touch and the emotion coursing through her palm. "I'll find a way to communicate with you but for now you have to pretend that you never saw us."

Vision nodded silently and rose, the feeling of Wanda's touch still lingering on the back of his hand.

"Go,” she whispered settling back against the wall again.

Vision didn't see any point in saying goodbye, not when he was so sure that they would be seeing each other again soon. Instead, he settled for something simpler, "Until our next meeting." Before he could lose his nerve, he leant down and brushed his lips against her forehead. Wanda’s breath caught as he did but when he drew back her face was lit with a soft, gentle smile. She watched on in dismay as Vision straightened up, stepped forward, and with a final look at her phased through the wall and out into the world beyond. Wanda turned her eyes to the ceiling waiting for her exhaustion to consume her as Vision sped away, not trusting himself to leave quietly if he hesitated any longer.

They’d see each other again, he was certain of it.

#wandavision #wandavision fanfiction #wanda x vision #wanda maximoff #scarletvision #scarlet witch #visionsofusfics

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lovelikedestiny · 3 years ago

Text

4. Booker: How shall I win back

Warmth in every curl of lip,

keeping first watch every night.

Finding out that he may have sentenced one of the people who never failed him to final death with his original plan was not on Booker's checklist. Standing up? Yes. Fighting the urge to drown his inner pain in alcohol before noon? Also. Finding his place back in the family he betrayed? Hell yes!

But not that. Never that.

It is true that in his worst moments he looked - poisoned by jealousy - at the happiness Joe and Nicky had with their mutual immortality. That he was angry because he would never be allowed to have something like that ever again. That he hated it when Nicky and Joe were so careful and loving to take him into their family and not to exclude him because he didn't deserve their kindness.

But even then, Booker never wished to destroy their happiness in any way. Because even if the love of the two for each other is obvious, being part of their family meant being loved by them. To bask in the warm glow of their relationship while Nicky prepared humming food in the kitchen and made interjections in the remarks of the day, which Joe told Booker with such funny expressions, fake voices and hand movements that Booker laid laughing under the table. Nicky's and Joe's love belongs only to the two of them, but it gives so much more to those around.

It reminds Booker that he is not completely alone and has support. A home. Every day it shows Booker the good they are fighting for. It reminds Booker how to live when all he wants to do is die.

Congratulations. You did a great job.

He probably even deserves that he not only betrayed his family now, but also started to destroy them from the inside. The agony of knowing he did this to Nicky will burn and burn in his chest, between his ribs for eternity, and for one cruel second Booker thinks that this is only fair if they can't find a cure for Nicky. Because compared to Joe's pain if they should lose Nicky, his guilt is not even a fraction.

Oh god, Joe. His best friend. Bad jokes, stupid but fun actions, joint soccer games, a bright grin. All of this is wiped away like dust and reveals the almost broken mirror underneath, the glass of which is showing more and more cracks.

The silence that follows Copley's revelation cracks in Booker's ears, pushing him down and crushing him with its weight. It would be so easy if Joe showed any sign of anger at him. If he directed angry words at him, hit him and made him bleed because the physical pain would distract Booker from the gash that is opening in his heart.

Booker could handle an angry Joe, shit, that would be exactly what he'd deserve. They let him into their family again, put their trust - at least the trace that existed - in him and now it turns out that Booker is the wolf in sheep's clothing in their midst. God, Universe, you assholes, now would be a good time to strike me with a lightning bolt.

But Joe does nothing, and Booker bites his tongue so hard that he can taste the metallic flavor that has been their companion for centuries. Just like Death, who reaches for them with bony fingers but couldn't hold them. Until now. The idea that death at that moment could reach out its fingers to grab Nicky is unbearable for Booker.

Still completely motionless, Joe sits next to Nicky and looks blankly at Copley, who closes his laptop so quietly as if he were afraid that any noise would tear them out of their silent state. And then Joe turns his head painfully in slow motion. Not to look at Booker with anger and hatred and disgust, but to look at Nicky, which is much worse for Booker than an angry Joe. Because the silent scream that leaps from Joe's face at Booker hits him like a fist in the stomach. It takes a lot of effort not to double over.

Nicky has still fixed his eyes on Copley, his face unfathomable, untouched as a surface of water, but Booker knows that Nicky always tries hard not to let anything out when the rage inside him is all the more violent.

This knowledge is not helpful to Booker's emotional state. Even though Nicky doesn't look at Joe, there is the kind of creepy and impressive communication between the two that Booker has not seen for the first time, and Nicky reaches for Joe's hand, which is already moving towards his. Joe's fingers easily find Nicky's and when Nicky brings Joe's hand to his lips and kisses it, Booker mentally throws himself out the window because Joe was right. He's a selfish asshole and Nicky and Joe pay the price for it...

When Andy finally moves, Booker barely swallows his sigh in relief and Nile's attitude changes too, turning to the leader they all see in Andy and whom they always rely on.

Her ice blue eyes pierce Booker and she jerks her head, carefully controlling her noble face. “Booker, come with me. Nice work, Copley, now at least we know what kind of shit we're up against.”

She whirls around and marches out. Uncomfortably, Booker gets up and follows, more slowly but obediently. Every step drives the splinter of his failure deeper into his body.

They go to the patio door, which Andy pushes open carelessly and she only comes to a stop when they stand in the middle of Copley's garden. Whatever Andy has to say, Booker is more than ready to hear. He knows he got them into deep shit.

With her back to him, Andy stares at some nearby trees, and Booker takes waiting as a form of punishment in itself. "Boss, I-" he starts, has no idea what he's getting at. Only that he can no longer stand the silence that whispers to him traitor, failure, murderer, exile.

Lightning-fast Andy pulls the gun out of her waistband, turns half around and shoots him in the right leg.

The crashing shot startles a couple of birds, and Booker is too surprised when his leg gives way and knocks him half to one knee to make a painful sound. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

He grunts suppressed, but literally embraces the pain. Leaning on his other leg, he starts to straighten up, but Andy shoots him in the other leg and Booker grinds his teeth as he lands face first in the cool grass.

The gunshot wounds burn and Booker soaks in the earthy smell of the ground as he feels the injured tissue contract again and pushes the bullets out of the wounds. It's questionable whether Andy will shoot him again, but Booker is ready to take it.

"Fuck!" She finally growls and after Booker has rolled onto his side, he discovers that she has put her gun away again. With hands trembling and cramping with pent-up emotions, she paces back and forth in front of him, buries one hand in her hair and pulls on the dark strands in frustration. “It should have been one of us, Book. Might have been, fuck!” She kicks a stone that is probably some kind of design in Copley's garden. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

Booker lets her scold and curse and kick the stone and sits up because there is nothing he can say to allay her anger stemming from underlying fear and concern.

"Get up, you fucking asshole!" Andy finally hisses at him and Booker obeys the order with his head bowed. He doesn't blame Andy for the gunshot wounds or her insults, she always tends to speak out when something has shaken her to the bone.

You killed her baby brother.

Shut the fuck up, Booker instructs his inner voice, gritting his teeth, as he has done since he and the others took different paths on the banks of the Thames.

“Why couldn't it have hit me? I'm already mortal, damn it!” Andy gives the impression that she would like to shoot something or demolish one of Copley's raised beds. “Both of us, Book, have been so sick of this endless life and have only seen the burden of many lonely years with no light at the end of the tunnel. And Nicky and Joe, of all people, who saw time as a gift, have now got what we both have always hoped for. Life ain't fucking fair. But why Nicky?"

Why the heart?

Continue reading on AO3 ;)

#the old guard #fanfiction #tears on marble face #chapter four #Booker #Joe #Nicky #Copley #Andy

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my-fanfic-library · 5 years ago

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [18]

Masterlist

A/N: I just wanted to say thank you to everyone giving the series so much love and support, I genuinely cannot express how grateful I am for it all. I also just wanted to say a special thank you to @newheart97 for helping me with the plot line ❤️❤️❤️

Oh also Claes’ smile is killing me UWU

~^*^~

Standing in a dimly lit passageway, you turned on your feet to look behind you. Torches flickered at either ends and the fire danced, seemingly pointing you in the direction that you needed to go. Beginning to walk, the echo of your shoes filled the confined space and your hands grazed the cobble walls either side of you. It was cold and you swore you could hear footsteps behind you.

Where were you?

Following the flames, you navigated through the winding halls until you came to an opening in the bricks and a large set of double doors faced you. They stretched up and seemed to be shut tight. That didn’t stop you from nearing them and grasping the round metal handle. It was cool to the touch. You pushed first and then pulled. The wood gave way and the door opened. A low light flooded over you and you looked ahead to find yourself at the top of a sweeping staircase. Slowly, you moved through the door and began to descend the steps. A large and beautiful chandelier hung in the centre of the ceiling, and it seemed that the stairs were circling around it. You continued to look forward, noticing a lowering in the ceiling over a long table and at the back, a fireplace. Sitting in the chair at the farthest end of the table, facing the fire, was... well, somebody.

When you reached the bottom of the steps, you stopped moving. The entire place seemed to be lit by fire and built by stone. It was odd.

How had you gotten here?

There was a noise as the person rose from the chair and it soon became apparent who it was. Dressed in clothes that screamed a much older period, a beautiful glass filled with deep crimson in his fingers, Dracula turned to look at you.

“Come,” he beckoned you over.

As if you had no control over your body, you began to walk forwards again. Your eyes were trained on him.

“Where am I?” You asked softly as you neared him.

“Where do you think?”

When you were close enough, your hand slipped into his and he pulled you close. He pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek and looked down at you.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t have asked.” You rolled your eyes. Dracula chuckled.

“My sweetness, look around you. Surely, you must recognise it from somewhere.” He promoted your eyes to look around once more. You scanned the room. You definitely hadn’t been here. But had you heard of it?

As you turned your head to look at Dracula, a man was sitting where Dracula just had been. It was for a split second but you saw him so clearly. A bald head with the blue trees just below the skin that were filling with vampiric venom. His eyes were sunken in, fingernails gone and deep, blood-filled welts in their places. In his hand, a pen and below his face which was twisted in pain, three written letters. Blood oozed form his mouth and dripped on to the parchment. You screamed which morphed into a gag.

Jonathan Harker.

It clicked as the account you had once read with Zoe came into your head. Three letters, just like the ones under his head, sent to his fiancée so that she wouldn’t worry. The baby that had been given to one of his brides - the heroic man had tried to call the vampire out on it. This grand place belonged to the Count.

“Drac... how did I get to Transylvania...?” You inquired warily.

“I would like to think that you are able to recall a conversation that we once had, about the friend of yours?”

“Jack...?” You narrowed your eyes in confusion as you stepped backwards away from the vampire.

“Exactly. Do you remember it?”

“You... you told me that you’d continue to keep in contact if I... kept myself to myself...”

Dread filled your gut. Dracula took a sip from his glass and began staring you down.

“Well done,” he whispered, “except, you didn’t keep your end of the deal, did you?”

“I... I thought you were dead!” Your voice trembled. Dracula placed the glass down on the table and you stared at it in horror, “is that mine..?” The blood.

Using his hand, Dracula directed your gaze back to him.

“I warned you, [First],” he mumbled, nearing his face to yours. His lips hovered on the corner of yours, mostly on your cheek, but a little overlapping your own, “I told you. You pushed me to this.”

He flipped you up and your back smashed into the back of the table, winding you. You gasped for air, but had almost no time to recollect yourself as Dracula now hovered above you. His knee was pushed between your legs, his hands pinned your arms above your head. Your chest painfully rose and fell. You were looking up at him in terror. He lowered himself, planting a kiss on the curve of your jawline just below your ear.

“You’re going to kill me.” You whispered.

“No, sweetheart, I’m going to make you wish that you had never crossed me.”

~^*^~

Eyes snapping open, you looked around the room. Dusk had now fallen and Dracula had left. Your bedroom door was now open and there was a glass of water and the medicine Jack had promised sitting on your bedside table. You could hear the TV downstairs.

For just a second, you thought you saw a figure standing in your doorway and you gasped. It was gone.

A throbbing became apparent in your neck and there was a gentle dribble. The way that it tickled your skin annoyed you immediately and your hand flew up to collect whatever was seeping down. When you looked at your fingers, a chocked gasp left your lips. Red.

You pulled yourself up, rushing into the bathroom and locking the door. Your eyes immediately went to the mirror. A mouth shaped gash was quickly scarring over, a little blood trickling down your neck, towards your collarbone. Fuck. He’d bitten you while you slept. You had read accounts of being taken somewhere with him while he drank blood. He’d chosen to take you to Transylvania. But why there?

Fumbling in your pockets, you pulled out your phone and clicked on his speed dial. When he answered, before he could speak, you spoke.

“Meet me at the top of the path down the cliff in five fucking minutes.” You growled.

You practically stormed down the stairs, ignoring Jack’s questioning looks as you flung open the front door and left. By the time you got to the cliffs, looking down over the sea Dracula was already there. Twilight’s glow made him look somewhat angelic but you were in a blind rage to take it in.

When he heard your footsteps, he turned and grinned at you.

“You absolute moron!” You shrieked, nearing him with some rage, “you absolute fucking spoon! How could you?!”

“Now, [First], calm down-“ he licked his lips and his eyes shifted to gain a slightly nervous tinge.

“You- you marked,” you pushed him backwards with all of your strength and he did actually stumble backwards a little. You had caught him off guard, “me! You drank my blood!”

“Yes, but only a little-“

“ONLY A LITTLE?!”

He couldn’t help but feel a little endeared at the display of rage. You’d lost all of your senses. Humans were funny little things. You knew that you could never overpower him, yet here you were overrun with such anger that you were being a little physical with him. He smirked just a little.

“You don’t think I’d actually drink enough to kill you, do you?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?! Am I-... am I going to become like you? Like Renfield?” Like Lucy? Like Jonny Harker? Am I going to die like Agatha?”

“[First]-“

“Am I?!”

“You think I’d turn the most precious and sweetest thing this pathetic world has ever been blessed with into a monster?!” He growled back at you and you took a step back in a momentary panic, “I would never hurt you, [First]! But you betrayed me! You broke your end of the deal! I warned you what would happen!”

“Betrayed you?! I thought you were dead! I moved on!”

Dracula, out of habit, took in a deep breath to calm himself. Neither of you would get anywhere by screaming at one another. Instead, he took a moment to drink in the sight of you. It really had been so long without you. The last specs of sunlight hit your skin, miraculously highlighting all of the high points of your face. The anger that had coloured your face red was still there and there was a smudge of dried blood on your neck. Your hair was slightly disheveled. God, how some other man hadn’t swept you up yet was a mystery.

“Why with him?” He asked softly, trying to finally get your conversation to a civil noise level.

“Because... he was the only person who knew how it felt... to lose someone who meant everything to you.”

It went quiet for a moment. The waves cut through the silence even from so far down away. Dracula took two steps towards you again and reached forwards to brush a lose strand of hair behind your ear. His other hand was lazily shoved into his pocket.

“I meant it.” He stated gently.

“Meant what?”

“The last thing I texted you.”

Oh.

“But Agatha-“

“-was a close second.” He finished your sentence, “for a long time I truly believed she had revived my mundane emotions, however, the day at the Foundation when Dr. Van Helsing introduced me to the biggest and most obvious liar I’ve ever met in my 500 years,” he sucked in a shallow breath and dared himself to close a little more space between you, “that changed everything. She changed everything. She gave me the courage to die. But she was more important to me than finding the courage to conquer death. And now she’s here,” even less space, “looking at me like she’s going to kill me... and with my branding on her neck.”

You melted. The pure sincerity swimming in his orbs, the softest smile on his lips. His most gentle grip on your waist as he tugged you even closer than ever. Never in your life did you think you could stay angry at him. His free hand came up and his thumb trailed along his mark. It stung. You hissed and he hushed you by pressing a kiss to the same spot. A jolt of electricity, like nothing you had experienced before overcame you and a small moan ripped from your throat.

“What a sweet noise.” Dracula mused against your neck. The rumble of his voice carried into your chest, “come with me.” He suddenly spoke, pulling away to look you in the eye.

“What?” You whispered in soft confusion.

“Come back to London with me. Come and live with me instead. Make yourself mine.”

He said it in such a way that it felt like an order, but at the same time, it was an offer.

How could you leave Jack here? How could you give up the life you had worked so hard to build for yourself after everything? Would it be worth it? What would change now that Dracula could survive in the sunlight? How could you go with him after believing he’d never come back?

Turns out, pretty easily.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026 @greeniemoon @blueinkblot @tefymorgan @misfitgirlwrites @lokiphan @newheart97 @middlespellman @bratty-sweetheart @dipsylou @lilmou5ie @the-fangirl-life10 @enchantersnight @imthedoctorlove @haleyea @hoefordarkness @divinemoonsters @dragosdaughter

#this is NOT the end!!!!!#theres still more #lots more angst #and love #and most likely smut #something different #dracula #bbc dracula #netflix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang #dolly wells

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years ago

Text

How are you doing today? It’s only 1:56AM, but so far I’ve just ate a bowl of ramen and watched a couple YouTube videos. What was the best thing that happened to you today? My ramen was quite delicious, ha. Which cell phone network are you on? Verizon. Do you like the smell of cinnamon? Yesss. What was the last book you've read? I just finished, “The Secret She Kept” by Elle Gray and I’ve started, “Autumn’s Strike” by Mary Stone.

Are you hungry right now? No, I just finished eating. What was the last thing you've had to drink? Water. How often do you visit this website? I’m on Tumblr all the time. Do you like frogs? No. Are you afraid of dying? Yes. Do you like bananas? I love bananas. Do you like the show American Dad? Meh. It has its moments, but overall I’ll pass. I don’t ever watch it by my own choosing, I just catch it here and there because my family watches it. What TV show do you miss the most that's no longer on TV? Gilmore Girls, Degrassi, and True Blood come to mind first. Are you currently fighting with someone right now? No. Is your life full of drama? No. I have other stressful things I’m dealing with, but not of the drama variety. How long can you hold your breath underwater *shrug* Where's the last place you've been to out of state? When I went to Arizona to visit my grandparents about 6 years ago. Have you ever been kissed in the rain? No. What letter does your last name start with. -- What are you listening to right now? I’m watching Gilmore Girls. Have you ever had a pet that died? Yes. Would you rather use a trackpad or a mouse? Trackpad. Do you consider yourself politically intelligent? No, not at all. Have you ever done any volunteer work? Yeah, I’ve done a lot with Girl Scouts, school clubs, and class assignments. Do you like the Beatles? I like some songs. Is it night time where you're at right now? Yeah, it’s 2:08AM. Do you like steak? Nope. Do you eat healthy? No, I definitely don’t. How often do you work out? I don’t. What was the best gift you've ever received? I couldn’t possibly choose. Have you ever participated in a spelling bee? Nope. If you could have one wish right now, what would it be? Good health. Do you owe anyone an apology right now? I kind of do. Are you the jealous type of person? I can be, but it’s not something I feel much. Or at least haven’t felt in a long time. I feel envy more. Have you ever tried doing yoga? Nah. Do you like getting massages? I’ve never gotten one. Would you rather be too hot or too cold? Cold. Are you good at telling jokes? No, I’m pretty much the worst. I don’t tell many jokes. When was the last time you've attended a sleepover? Several years ago. Tell me one of your pet peeves. Eating sounds. Do you wear glasses? I do. Do you like to keep your nails painted? I haven’t painted my nails for the past few years. Have you ever had a pedicure? Nope. What is your favorite smell? I have several favorites. Do you like the TV show Full House? I do. Would you rather listen to country music or rap music? I like both. Are you a Duck Dynasty fan? Nope. Have you graduated high school yet? Uh, yeah, back in 2008. What kind of person were you in middle school? Quiet, shy, awkward. Nothing has changed. Do you have any major regrets in your life? I have a few. :/ Do you like pixie sticks? Eh. I did as a kid, but I don’t have much interest in them the older I get. Do you like French toast? Mmm, yes. Are you a fast typer? I am. Are you good at doing math in your head? Nope. Or at all. Have you ever played with Silly Putty? Yeah. Do you take in a lot of caffeine daily? I do. I love my caffeine. Do you like watching Football? Nope. Or an sport. What language do you wish you could speak? Spanish. Do you know a lot about history? No, I wouldn’t say that. If we could travel back in time, where would you travel to? Can I travel back to childhood? Would you ever consider joining the military? No. I couldn’t anyway, I’m physically disabled. Are you a cigarette smoker? No. Have you ever done something you didn't want to just to look cool? That’s kind of how it was when I used to drink and smoke. I wasn’t a big drinker or smoker, only did so socially, but still. I also did so on my own accord, I’m not blaming anyone, and I’m not going to say I hated all of it because I did have good times, but there was a big part of me that did so because I felt I had to. My friends liked to do it and I wanted to partake with them and not sit out on the sidelines by myself. It’s just that truth be told I think I would have rarely drank at all if it weren’t for that and likely would have never smoked. It had its fun moments, but I didn’t feel the need to partake all the time like they did. Do you like zombie movies? Nah. Have you seen The Hunger Games? Yep, all of ‘em. Do you have a favorite piece of clothing? All my graphic tees, t-shirt dresses, leggings, and lounge shorts. All my comfy clothes, basically. Do you own any Uggs? Nope. Are you wearing any rings on your fingers? No. Name a TV show that you absolutely can't stand. Most sitcoms today. Do you have any unusual talents? No. Or any kind of talent. Do you look like your age? *shrug* I’ve been told I look younger. Do you feel confident in a bathing suit? Nooo. Do you do a lot of online shopping? I do. Do you like the Harry Potter films? Yeah. Do you judge people based on their sexual orientation? No. I care about who a person is, their personality, and whether we vibe. Have you ever been told you had an accent? No. Have you ever ridden an elephant? Nope. Are you allergic to pollen? I do have seasonal allergies. Have you ever eaten sushi? Ew, yes. Not a fan. If so, do you like it? Nope. Are you a fan of anime? No. Would you rather play Xbox or Playstation? Playstation. Are you a big fan of seafood? I don’t like seafood at all. What kind of food are you craving right now? I’m good right now. Are you currently in a relationship? No. If not, are you happy being single? Yeah, it’s for the best. Do you like to go fishing? No. Are you a fast runner? I used to be. I don’t have the energy or strength anymore for that.

Have you ever worked at a fast food place? Nope. What's on your mind right now? Now I’m thinking about food cause of some of the previous questions. Are you texting anyone as you're taking this survey? No. Have you ever had a nasty rumor spread about you? No. Have you ever sent someone sexual pictures of yourself? No. Do you like who you are on the inside or the outside more? Neither. :/ Are you good at drawing? No, I have no artistic abilities. Do you know how to dance? Nope. What's your favorite reality TV show? Catfish, Teen Mom OG, Teen Mom 2, The Voice... Do you think Kim Kardashian deserves to be famous? I don’t care. Are you excited for Christmas this year? I’m always excited for Christmas. Do you celebrate Halloween? I mean, I put up some decor, watch scary movies, and partake in treats. I stopped dressing up and carving pumpkins a few years ago. Have you ever had a concussion? No. Do you pretend to be someone you're not? No. I certainly wouldn’t pretend to be... *gestures vaguely* this. Do you listen to heavy metal music? No. Were you sad when Michael Jackson died? I was just surprised. Do you have more upper or lower body strength? I barely have any strength anymore it feels like, but I used to have really great upper body strength. Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No, and never want to be. Do you like hot tubs? No. Do you know anyone who is battling cancer? No. Have you ever donated money to a charity? Yes. Do you get bored easily? More so nowadays. I didn’t used to. Have you ever peed your pants in public? Maybe as a little kid. Are you afraid of roller coasters? Yes, except for the Cars and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad roller coasters at Disneyland. Are you good at doing tongue twisters? Not really. What was the last movie you've seen in theatres? Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings. Have you ever been to a drive-in movie? Yeah, a few times but it’s been a long time. I’ve been wanting to go to one, though. Are you good at doing fractions? Meh. I’m alright. Me and math don’t get along, but I could do some things somewhat. What is your favorite holiday? Christmas and Halloween. Do you prefer Apple or Android? Apple. Would you rather have a tablet or a computer? Computer. Do you like things that are touch screen? Yeah. What age did you have your first kiss at? 16. Do you regret losing your virginity to whoever you lost it to? I’m still a virgin. Do you have a good relationship with your mother? Yes. Do you like the color lime green? Sure. What are your plans for tomorrow? I don’t have any. Would you rather wear jeans or yoga pants? Yoga pants. Do you like your clothes to be baggy and comfortable or tight and revealing Baggy and comfy. Do you wish you could change something about your hair? Yeah, it’s really not a good look right now. I pretty much chopped it off a couple months ago for reasons and it’s in that awkward phase as it grows out. I want it to be longer and dyed red again because currently it’s all natural and I don’t like it. Have you ever gotten a makeover? Yeah. Do you get mad easily? No. but I get frustrated and irritable easily. Have you ever punched someone in the face? No. Do you think the minions from Despicable Me are cute? Ehh. Did you have a Gameboy as a child? I did. Would you rather have chocolate or gummy worms? Chocolate. I’m not a gummy fan. What are your favorite pizza toppings? Extra cheese, garlic, green onions, spinach, cilantro, crushed meatballs, and pesto. Have you ever auditioned for a talent competition? No. I don’t have any talent. Do you make good sandwiches? I think theyr’e better from a deli or when my mom makes them haha but sure. Would you rather get high or get drunk? High. Have you ever failed a drug test? Nope. Do you like the Silent Hill movies? I actually haven’t seen them. What is one thing you need to work on to make yourself a better person? I have a few things I need to work on.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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