#Francis is also suffering don’t worry

[senditothemoonn]

Mmmm been rereading the Feel the Fear series so I am having those pining Alasdair feels

(Don’t worry Francis is pining too, these idiots just don’t know the first thing about communication…maybe one day I should draw something from Fran’s POV…for now I’m just making Aly suffer lol also Francis isn’t dead, Alasdair is just mourning the loss of their relationship, I hope that comes across ajsjdjsjs)

[oscurascout]

Y/N As A Doublegänger

From "That's Not My Neighbor" game

Note - I don't know how I have so many parts, but oh well, two more parts, and this story is completed.

Part 9 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10, Part 11)

Everything was fine for the last week or so; I got to know more neighbors thanks to Angus and the doorman.

I had met the two beautiful twins at Margarette's birthday party and had the chance to see some previews of the books that Arnold was writing. I also enjoyed the amazing cookies that Gloria baked. Additionally, I met Mia's intelligent fiancé, who was eager to share details about his work. I also got to know Lois, Roman's wife; she was lovely and told me about the incredible cake her husband had baked.

Yet, even with all these wonderful events, I couldn't truly relax. The D.D.D. Agents were breathing down my neck, making me anxious. They wouldn’t come inside the building, but they were always watching. During that time, no doppelgängers appeared—some made the mistake of showing up, it didn’t end well for them.

I had to be extra sneaky to bring food to my friends, but even then, it was still dangerous. Francis and I were heading back into the building when I spotted an agent right in front of the window. We were stopped by another agent, and even at this distance, I could hear their conversation.

Agent - “Hey! Good ol' pal, how you doing?”

Doorman - “Not very good with your agents here; it makes me feel like we’re in danger.”

Agent - “Nah, nothing like that. We just received a report about something interesting. Do you have anything to say about that?”

Doorman - “About what? I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

Agent - “Oh? So you don’t know, huh?” *He looks at Francis and me.* “Mmm? I thought you said everyone was already inside.”

Doorman - “I said all of them except two.”

Agent - “Mm, well, let me move so they can get in.”

The agent moved aside and gestured for us to pass. I walked to the window and handed my papers to the doorman. “Hey, how are you doing?”

Doorman - *smiles* “Good, though today everyone went out, so I had to check everyone’s papers.”

“Sounds harsh, but it’s a good thing we’re the last ones,” I said, trying to hide how nervous I felt with the agent right behind me, watching my every move.

Agent - “Are you a doppelgänger?”

I froze and turned around. “W-what? No,” I stammered, feeling a surge of nervousness and fear. Suddenly, the agent burst into laughter.

Agent - “Ha ha, calm down, buddy; I was just joking.”

I didn’t relax. I heard the door open.

Doorman - “It was good to see you, Y/N. Please get to your apartment and rest.”

I nodded and left, bidding everyone farewell. I quickly made my way through the door and let out a breath of relief. “What was that about?” I thought to myself as I waited for Francis. Soon, he entered, but his expression had changed; now he looked irritated. He glanced at me and relaxed slightly.

Francis - “Sorry, that agent has always been annoying.”

“Do they come here often?” I asked, curious.

Francis - “They used to, but not anymore. Don’t worry; it was before you even moved into this apartment.”

I nodded, and we waited a few minutes for the doorman to come out. Soon, he appeared, and just like Francis, his expression was one of irritation.

Doorman - *angry* “Who do they think they are?”

Francis - “What happened?”

Doorman - “They demanded that I try their new invention. It's supposed to detect doppelgängers and make them transform into what they truly are.”

“I guess you had to accept,” I said, feeling a bit upset.

Doorman - “Yeah, but don’t worry; I won’t do that to you. Besides, they'll only stay until tomorrow afternoon, and after that, they will leave. They just want to see if I can use that machine and if it even works, so you won't have to suffer.”

“Alright, oh umm, hey, what did he mean by getting a report?” I asked, hoping that nobody had mentioned me.

The doorman hesitated, just like last time, and once again, they didn’t answer my question.

Doorman - “Don’t worry about it. It's probably nothing, and just like before, they are joking around. Come on, let’s head to our apartments.”

“No! I want you to tell me what is happening. I deserve to know!” I said, frustrated, upset, and scared. I didn’t mean to snap at them, but this was my situation too, which meant I deserved to know.

Doorman - “Okay, well, what they meant was that someone reported that a doppelgänger had entered the building. They thought it was a fake report until someone supposedly saw the doppelgänger. The reports also wouldn't stop, someone kept reporting over and over again until they decided to just see if it was true. Not only that, but this machine also showed that there was something, but since it's a prototype and they can’t fully trust it, they decided to conduct a full investigation.”

Francis - “Mmm, I don't think the report was meant for you; it was probably for someone else.”

Doorman - “Or it was someone from the building who saw your true form, and now they are scared.”

Francis - “But if that had happened, then—” *their voices faded out*

I couldn’t hear anything they said. “How? Did someone see me? Why did they report me? Was it a resident? Who? When? Why? I didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe it was a false alarm, and they’re just being paranoid. No, that can’t be. Are they going to catch me? Maybe it was another doppelgänger... or maybe one of my friends. Was it Angus? Steven? Francis? Or the doorm—” I was snapped out of my thoughts by the doorman, who looked concerned.

Doorman - *sighs* “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Francis - “Mmm, I don’t think it was one of the residents. If it had been, you would have been caught a long time ago.”

Doorman - “Then who? No one else knows besides ...”

The doorman quickly closed his mouth, not wanting to say what I hoped wouldn’t be true. “Did someone betray me?” I thought as I hugged myself, unable to see the expressions on the doorman's and Francis's faces.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

june 17, 2021 12:00 p.m. st. francis catholic cemetery

dear grant,

by the time you read this, i don’t know where you’ll be in life, but i can’t imagine this becoming irrelevant. at least for me, while i'm writing this, it’s one day after i overheard you and your best friend henry talking in your room. you said, “i don’t believe in god but i think i'm missing something because you and everyone else i know seem to think he’s real.” and i know you were talking about me before that.

it’s not the first time i've heard you really confused about, well, what’s out there. you asked me a while ago why i was so comfortable not trying to treat my cancer and just letting myself go naturally. i told you that’s something you have to do sometimes in difficult situations, but that’s not really the full story. i'm okay with it because i believe in something better. it’s not about whether i'm right or not, or whether god and a heaven are really out there. it’s just about believing in something and feeling comfortable in it.

but you know, i think being able to say i believe in god and a heaven and that jesus christ died for me is a sign of privilege. lately, being sick is the first thing in my life (my life, we're not talking about everything else bad in the world) that has ever made me question anything about my beliefs. i've always been able to get away with saying there’s a god-made reason for everything and that everything will turn out okay. it’s not so easy to rationalize anymore when you’re facing something really bad.

i don’t think you have the same privilege i do. you've had a much harder life than me. i can’t understand why, but mom is terrible to you. why would you believe in a benevolent god who loves you and wants the best for you when you’ve spent your whole life suffering? it doesn’t make any sense, does it? it doesn’t make sense to me either. i'm sorry if my beliefs ever made you feel worse. as much as i believe, i can poke a lot of holes in my beliefs. it’s been a while since i've been able to really say that god has a plan. i think he’s out there and i think he loves us, but i don’t think he controls us. if he does, then i have a serious problem with what he’s done to you. there’s a theory about that concept of god not being in control, but i can’t remember what i read. i'm sure you could talk to father lonergan about it, though. he’s kind of secretly sacrilegious in his beliefs, more than you’d think.

anyway, don’t feel bad for not being able to believe in what a lot of us believe in. i promise you you’re not the only one, and you won’t hurt anyone for not believing. uncle paddy is an atheist and no one gives a fuck. i know you take after the way he talks, so maybe that’ll make you feel better :) our grandma also knows a suspicious amount about old irish paganism and folk beliefs and she’s always been very open-minded towards other religions, so don’t confuse yourself thinking she’s all that devout and worried about your eternal salvation. i don’t know what she actually believes, but i don’t think it’s what she says out in the open. you should ask her about it when you’re ready.

most of all, i'm not hurt by you having different beliefs. the only thing that hurts me is that you’re confused. i don’t want you to feel that way. no matter what, i can accept anything that happens to me because i think there’s something better after this, but you don’t have something to cling to, to make you feel comfortable. i don’t get the impression you really like the fully scientific belief either. not to put words in your head (feel free to mark up this letter and tell me how wrong i am) but i think you’re scared that there’s nothing out there at all, that all there is in life is without purpose and meaning. if the universe did create itself (which it did, i'm not an idiot), then you still have to grapple with how the event that made such a beautiful universe also created evil.

neither explanation satisfies you, does it?

again, there’s a reason we believe in all these things. it’s seriously not about correctness. all belief systems are equally "right." it’s just about that believing does something for us. you don’t even have to believe in the same thing forever. i just hope you find something that brings you comfort. i don’t want you to suffer. and i don’t want you to feel like i'm not with you anymore.

that’s the other thing about believing in heaven for me. the thing that makes me most scared of dying is leaving everyone behind. and i'm actually scared of that. i won't tell you that now because it doesn't make me feel any better to see you scared. i don’t want to say goodbye to you, to kelly, our grandparents, to our cousins, to my friends...but i have to. i have to, but i hope and believe i'll see you all again someday. i don’t just want to have something nice beyond this. i want the reunion of family and friends. i actually want that most of all. if i could only have any one benefit of the afterlife, i'd take the reunion. i don't know how that would works or if it's real, but i pray it is, and i pray that you will all be there regardless of your beliefs.

i love you very much <3 see you in the future. just don’t make it anytime soon, okay?

- your favorite sister, elizabeth

[city0f-dreams]

Muse Profile: Deadpool/Wade Wilson

Heyyyyyy, people! …You know who this is. I’m not usually one to warn people before things turn ugly, but someone insists I tell you that my backstory involves mentions of cancer. Don’t worry, I don’t die…obviously. Now that that’s taken care of, click that “keep reading” when you’re ready!

“I know I turn everything into a joke, but…I care. And I want to use that feeling for something important. I wanna matter.”

Fandom: X-Men…? Marvel…? MCU…? F**k, buyouts make things complicated. Look, this is movie me, the one acted on screen by the guy who made a video game ripoff of the Truman Show. I’ve got that version’s backstory and lore, nothing from the comics or anywhere else. Got it?

Bio: The anti-hero mercenary known as Deadpool, real name Wade Wilson, has quite the tragic past…something you would never guess if you were to just go by his usual sarcastic demeanor. A former Special Forces operative, he picked up mercenary work and a fiery tongue after being discharged, shortly thereafter meeting his girlfriend, Vanessa. Unfortunately, some time after hooking up, Wade found out that he had cancer, one that had spread to his heart, brain, and lungs, among other places. Not wanting the one good thing in his life to be heartbroken by his death, Wade signed up for what he thought was an experimental program that would cure him; instead, it was weeks and weeks of torture in an attempt to unlock the mutant genes that they injected into him. He eventually gained a healing factor that left him incapable of dying, his body constantly building and destroying cells and leaving him in constant pain, and he was able to escape…but he was left scarred, disfigured, and mentally unstable in the process.

Afraid to go near Vanessa, Wade took up the name “Deadpool” and began to go after those close to the one who disfigured him, Ajax/Francis, in order to potentially return himself to his old looks. He wasn’t able to be fixed, but he was reunited with her, and along the way he made acquaintances with several members of the X-Men. Now, after adventures involving a rogue mutant boy, a time traveler, Fox being bought by Disney (call me when you’re ready for those contractually obligated cameos, Feige!), and refusing to let his home dimension die, Deadpool has started to lead a somewhat stabilized life taking up jobs as an unkillable mercenary. And with the entirety of the MCU available to him now, he’s ready to cause chaos with Earth’s most financially successful warriors.

Deadpool is primarily a wisecracker, unable to resist making a remark, whether he’s thought of something crude or not. He also suffers from a confusing, albeit persistent delusion that he is in a movie and is being viewed by an audience. Or do I? And don’t think I don’t see you people out there, too! Under the surface, however, he’s quite the sad clown: Unable to die and feeling like he doesn’t deserve to use his skills for good, he masks his depression and sadness with jokes. However, he does care, though more about his friends and those that keep him sane than about anything else. Why else would he do things like fighting the TVA when they were planning to erase his universe?

Verses:

V1: none of this is real; but it is real!-Wade’s default verse, a wisecracking mercenary taking up odd jobs and just in general showing up in random places to annoy people. Although firmly based on and up to date with the movie/MCU canon, he can show up anywhere and interact with anyone, considering his nature.

V2: the only good part of Origins honestly-This is a Wade who’s been discharged from the Special Forces and isn’t invincible or meta just yet, but is still snarky and very capable in combat. Fitting for a sci-fi/hardcore fantasy verse, or any thread where normal Deadpool just doesn’t fit.

Anything Else?: In case you haven’t figured it out yet, stuff highlighted in red in the narration is me doing what I do best. Well, besides killing people.

Also, if his meta stuff is getting a bit much for your liking, let me know and I’ll try to tone it down in threads together as much as I can while remaining IC.

[riverdamien]

Living Simply!

“Sloughing Towards Galilee!”

“A Simple Way, but Not An Easy Way!”

Peniel

(Where Jacob Wrestled With God. .”

May Newsletter, Temenos Catholic Worker

Fr. River Damien Sims, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

www. Temenos.org

paypal

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John 15:1-9--NRSVEU

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Simple living is admired by many. Many want to  live more simply and serve their those who are the have nots! They never get around to it, seem to simply fade into the woodwork, for simple living, a life of simplicity and care we must unclutter our lives. I am always promising myself to declutter my room, and what do I do? Someone left a full mirror to give a way, and it now sits in the room, there was some cotton as well, and I picked up to stalks, remembering my childhood. Living simply is tough. But I try.

Simplicity will lead us to a tranquility in our lives, a way of living and thinking about others that is non-judgmental, and caring; Simplicity allows us to let go, and focus on God.

At least some of the “good news” that Jesus brought had to do with this kind of liberation. The New Testament is filled with reassurances that that that this world is a safe place for us to be. Time and again, Jesus reminds us that God loves us and will provide what we need. “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life and what you will eat, or about your body and what you will wear,” ….”For life  is more than food and the body more than clothing” (Luke 12:22-23).

This is scarcely a new idea to Christians or other world -wide faiths. Jesus taught that we should avoid distracting encumbrances; the disciples are sent out without as much as a back pack. To embrace simplicity calls for a radical trust that does not come easily; To embrace simplicity allows us to embrace others.

Jesus does not promise that we will find this a comfortable way to live, but he does assure us that even when human life seems to be a terrible struggle, we are not alone. He says: “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock,for your Father is pleased to give you the Reign of God” (Luke 12:32).

When Francis said after kissing the leper, “I have left the world,” he was saying he was giving up the usual payoffs, constraints, and rewards of business as usual and was choosing to live in the largest kingdom of all. To pray and actually mean “thy kingdom come,”, we must also say “my kingdoms go.”

When we agree simply, we put ourselves outside of others’ ability to buys us off, reward us falsely, or control us by money, status, punishment, and loss or gain. It is not easy, we suffer, and we struggle, but this is the most radical level of freedom.

When we agree to live simply, we can understand what Francis meant when he said: “A man had not given up everything for God as long as he held on to the moneybag of his own opinions.” We find this purse is far more dangerous than money in a purse, and we seldom let it go.

When we agree to live simply, we do not consider people who are homeless, “dirty, drug using, lazy people,” but as our brothers and sisters choosing to walk along with them; if we lived simply I doubt that we would see as many tents on the streets, and people without health care. Caring and providing for others begins with us.

When we live simply we don’t consider people outsiders who are immigrants, refugees, or unhoused as a threat or as competition. We have chosen their marginal state for ourselves—freely  and  consciously becoming “visitors and pilgrims” in this world, as Francis puts it quoting I Peter 2:11. A simple lifestyle is simply an act of solidarity with the way most people live today, and have lived since the beginning of humanity.

When we live simply, people cease to be possessions and objects for our consumption or use. Our lust for relationships or for others to serve us, our need for admiration, our desire to use people or thing as commodities for our personal pleasure, and any need of control and manipulation, slowly—yes, very slowly—falls away . Only then are we truly free to love! Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

We are Story Catchers, walking with anyone who simply wants to have a listener!  Simply listening, and providing food, socks, and other support when requested. We catch their stories, we allow them to work their own stories out, and respect where they are!

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[babybluesquid]

Consequences of Karrnath Session 40

An Assent to Ascent

Our Players this week:

Dagne, Redemption Paladin, party leader, an undead soldier created by the Odakyr Rites, but has a soul. They are a Seeker sworn to protect the living. Has a skeleton horse mount from Find Steed named Coffin. Can be abrasive and dishonest, but they are ultimately kind.

Nux, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer, a young teen Marcher who escaped an imposed warlock pact and is now discovering their own innate magic. Their personas are Murlo, a preteen orc girl, Orim, a young adult elf boy, and Vel, an adult tiefling enby. They hold a lot of anger and anxiety and they struggle against authority.

Vaeren, Gloomstalker Ranger, a blind former Deathguard. They were initially sent to investigate Dagne, but instead started dating them. They’re contemplative and disciplined, but with an angry streak and often question Dagne’s decisions.

Evakhal, Zealot Barbarian, a mysterious half-orc Gaash’kala who joined the party due to his visions of the future where they stop a powerful servant of an Overlord. He’s generally optimistic and supportive of the party’s efforts.

The snake person leads the party into an entrance in the base of the pyramid. Inside is a hall with a large throne at one end. Thirteen other people stand around the hall, watching warily as the party’s escort approaches the throne. Seated there is a large snake person, snake headed and tailed, completely covered in scales in a black, yellow, and red banded pattern. The Baron is wearing many pieces of gold jewelry. “Baron! Baron Francis ir’Stanburry! It’s the Bone King!” The panicked underling announces, “the Bone King has come demanding the artifact we’ve been guarding beneath the pyramid!” The Baron regards the party with fear and bewilderment, but keeps his wits about him, “if that one is the Bone King, then who are the others?” His voice is a hiss, even more drawn out than that of the first snake person, but there’s a hint of Five Nations in the accent, maybe Breland.

Dagne answers, “mortals sworn to my service.” “Why does a power so great seek the weapon we hold here?” “I intend to bring death to the dragons of The Chamber.” The Baron sits back, contemplating a bit, “this is a goal that my people can understand and appreciate. However, how can we know you are the Bone King and not just a lich or something like that?” Dagne responds in the infernal language, “if you question my authority, you shall suffer an eternity in Mabar.” The Baron shrinks back, “sorry, your Dark Majesty. Let us make it up to you.” He turns and whispers to his subordinate who descends a staircase. “Just a second,” the Baron promises. As Dagne waits, they tap the shaft of their poleaxe impatiently.

The snake person returns, leading three more armed snake people and five prisoners, three humans, one halfling, and a dragonborn. The party recognizes the Dreambreaker Covenant, Sword Bartholomew Skipwith, SanShara, ZarShara, Mata of Hammertail, and Xarlic, disarmed, gagged to prevent spellcasting, and without armor. “To provide a salve to the offense we gave to you, we offer you, Dark Power, these lives for you to consume,” the Baron offers. Dagne thinks quickly, needing to buy some time, “who are these lowlives?” “Thieves who came to steal the artifact you seek.” “Adventurers?” “You could call them that.” “This offering pleases me. I need adventurers to face the dragons,” Dagne gestures back at their own party.

Meanwhile, when the prisoners are brought out, SanShara initiates a telepathic conversation with Vaeren, “kind of in a tight spell here, mind helping us out? Also is Dagne a skeleton? What’s up with that?” “Don’t worry, we won’t let you die,” Vaeren replies, “and Dagne is… well it’s a long story.”

The Baron seems bothered by Dagne’s response, “why would the Bone King need adventurers to face the dragons? Do you not have your own armies of the dead and your own great powers?” But Dagne is ready, “this is the very reason I seek to eliminate The Chamber. The placed me into a mortal’s body to use me for their prophetic ends. I will have my revenge for this grave insult.” Amused, the Baron turns to Sword Bartholomew Skipwith, “say, good knight, would you serve the Bone King in this endeavor?” The guard pulls his gag off and Bartholomew glances around for a second, settling a quizzical look on Dagne. They provide him no sign, no movement or direction. Cautiously, he replies, “if it would save my friends, then I’d have to, of course.” “How noble of you,” Dagne replies hatefully. The Baron is unconvinced, “you have some kind of scheme to run from the Bone King with your friends. I tire of you,” he faces Dagne, “the offer on this man’s life to you still stands as he will not properly serve you.”

“Do not underestimate me, worm!” Dagne shouts in infernal, their voice magically amplified to fill the room, “my will can easily dominate even the most virtuous of knights!” The Baron lurches backward in surprise and terror, pointing at one of his underlings, “servant, bring the adventurers’ equipment so they may properly serve in the Bone King’s army.” The snake people scatter and return with armor and weapons, standing uncomfortably near Dagne.

SanShara reports to Vaeren, “Mata has picked her handcuffs. We can break out if you’ll help us out of here.” “With the way things are going I don’t think we’ll need to fight. That’s our hope at least. If you can play along things may work out peacefully.” “Perhaps.”

Dagne stares at the Baron, “I tire of your questions and your offerings, worm. Bring me the artifact.” He stands up himself and leaves with a small retinue of his servants. A short while later, he returns, holding a small white glowing orb. As he approaches Dagne with it, his eyes don’t leave the floor as he bows. He holds out the orb to Dagne, his other hand darts to his belt. They lunge forward with their poleaxe, but he is quicker. The Baron draws a dagger, announcing, “you are a fool if you think I would give this up, but its power can send you back to Mabar!” He rams the pommel of the dagger into the orb, and it ignites. The Baron burns up in silver light and fire, reduced to ash and bones. The orb clinks to the ground, unharmed, and rolls to Dagne’s foot.

“My hands are free,” SanShara telepathically notifies Vaeren, “shall I conjure my blade?” “Don’t do anything. Whatever Dagne does, play along.” “How do we know we can trust you?” Vaeren responds with dead seriousness, “look, Dagne couldn’t hurt a fly without feeling guilty. We have your party’s stuff. We can get it back to you if you pretend to be under their control. Not sure what they have planned but they’re uncomfortably confident.”

Taking control of the situation, Dagne announces to the rest of the room, “witness what occurs when a mere mortal attempts to wield the artifact. Stand against me and your blood will slake my thirst for death!” Terrified, the snake people back away as Dagne picks up the orb. Then, they notice Mata and SanShara have removed their handcuffs. Dagne turns on the group, hand raised and yelling out in infernal, “fall before my will!” Instantly, all five of them drop to the ground. “Now rise.” They stand and go to equip themselves. Mata approaches Dagne, “my mighty lord, I would of course be of less great effectiveness without my trusted companion. I would ask you to tell the serpents to return my clawfoot to me.” Dagne turns on the nearest snake person, “bring it.” Scared, it runs off, returning with the dinosaur. “Now,” Dagne announces, “we shall leave this place.”

As the party returns to the surface, once out of earshot of the snake people, Bartholomew turns to Dagne, “that was quite the fine trick you pulled back there, my skeletal fellow, but I must ask what the deal was with that. Swords of the Crown and followers of Dol Arrah don’t normally tolerate the undead of course.” “I’m Karrnathi,” Dagne replies bluntly. “Well, of course I know that,” he presses, “I am more curious about why a skeletal undead would be both intelligent and leading a group of adventurers.” “I’m just built different.” “You’re not a wizard so you can’t be a lich, and you’re not mummified either, and you don’t possess the false vitality found in vampires. I can’t say I’ve seen any of your like before.” “If you served in the war, you likely did. I’m an undead soldier, that is all,” Dagne sounds wary, he’s pressing too hard. “Your grasp of language and morality is more than I would expect from seeing those creatures out in the war.” Dagne turns to face him, “if you’re attempting to make polite conversation, you’re failing. If this is a threat, stop.” Immediately, Sword Bart stops his line of questioning.

When the party reaches the surface, Atamu is surprised that the group not only survived, but acquired new people. He stares at ZarShara in particular but makes no comment, only asking if the expedition is over. Dagne confirms it and they pack up camp, heading back to Gatherhold. Money changes hands and the groups part ways. Before the Dreambreaker Covenant leaves, however, Xarlic approaches Dagne, “what are you doing with the artifact?” “I’m gonna kill Mordakesh,” they respond. “I will tell our employers your plan. It is a good idea, if you win. You have a high chance of dying.” Annoyed, Dagne rebuts, “I know that. Now begone.” Before leaving the city, Dagne finds a craftsman to quickly repair their visor. Once that’s done, they hop aboard the lightning rail for Atur.

On the rail, Nux’s body right there in the cabin with the party, Ev speaks up. “Guys, we need to talk about Nux being gone.” “What could you possibly say?” Dagne bites back. “Well, what is going to happen?” “We can’t carry them around forever,” Vaeren agrees, “we need to take them somewhere but- I don’t know.” “I am not giving up on them,” Dagne says. “You’re going to try to bring them back?” Vaeren asks, surprised. “I don’t have the power to do that, but the Crimson Covenant might. Khyber, even House Jorasco. I refuse to let them be dead.” Horrified, Vaeren replies, “would you think about what they would want? Sure they’re dead, but I don’t think they would want to be brought back.” “How dare you.”

Ev butts in quietly, “I don’t think we should do that.” Dagne turns on him, “the Rakshasa stabbed Nux while they were already down! They had no awareness of the situation! We ought to fix this! They have a right to know what happened and go live their life!” “But they died,” Ev says, confused. “Both of you shut up. Yelling is getting us nowhere,” Vaeren says. Dagne turns to them, “if you truly believe saving Nux from Dolurrh is wrong, leave me now.” For a long moment, they’re silent, then say, “try then. They shouldn’t have to disappear.” “Thank you.”

As soon as the party arrives in Atur, Dagne leads them down into the catacombs of the Crimson Monastery. They soon run into a vampire, one they recognize from the last time they were down there. Dagne bows, “I need your help. Please bring my friend back to life.” The vampire regards Nux’s body, “this is possible. How long have they been dead?” “I’ve been preserving their body with my magic, Dagne responds. The vampire nods and leads them through the catacombs to a deep chamber. More martyrs join them on the way. Ev is directed to lay Nux down on an altar and unwrap their body. A skeletal figure enters the room, stands over Nux, then says, “Nux’s soul is not in Dolurrh.”

“What do you mean?” Dagne demands, “where could they be?” “Some weapon which traps or destroys the soul, such as a Keeper’s Fang, is the most likely explanation.” Dagne’s mind races, “can they be brought back if I acquire this weapon?” “If they’re trapped, then yes, that’s possible.” Dagne’s voice fills with determined anger, they turn to their party, “let’s go find Mordakesh.”

Once the party leaves the catacombs, Dagne pulls the artifact out. They stare at the glowing white orb, pulsing faintly. Then, they slam it into the center of their poleaxe. The party jumps back in surprise as silver light fills the room, but there is no burning. The orb melds into the weapon, vanishing into its center. Then, a voice asks, “so, who are you?” It’s in their head, and Dagne replies with a thought, “I’m Dagne.” “What are you trying to kill?” “Mordakesh, the Shadow Sword.” “That’s exactly the kind of thing I wanna do,” the artifact replies, “I’m Garthir, an orc in an orb that makes weapons very strong.” “Well, Garthir, let’s go slay a Rakshasa.” “Awesome! I have not done anything since the Year of Blood and Fire!”

With Dagne not immolated by silver fire, the party looks around for Nenad Rukavina, but another guide informs them he’s on a trip and will be back tomorrow. So the party gets a room at an inn instead to wait. One by one, the party members go to sleep, and Vaeren starts their trance. Dagne waits, hand on their weapon. A figure steps from the shadows. A Rakshasa, not the same one, an orange one with black stripes, but holding the same weapon, the weapon that killed Nux. Dagne stands defensively. The Rakshasa speaks softly, “do not wake your friends if you ever wish to retrieve Nux’s soul.” “What do you want?” Dagne demands. “Meet me in at the last hour before dawn at the other side of the conductor stones of the lighting rail station. Come alone with your poleaxe.” “I’ll be there, since I’m going to send you back to Khyber.” “You won’t,” the Rakshasa promises before vanishing.

Dagne considers the proposal for a couple hours, but there is no real choice to be made. They have to go. Quietly, they leave the room and head to the lightning rail station. There, on the other side of the conductor stones, holding the weapon, is a dwarf with red eyes, wearing heavy chainmail, Valtis Redeyes, the companion of Inesa’s who got away. They also see Vakaris, standing at a distance. Dagne approaches the disguised Rakshasa, “give me that weapon, now.” “Well, I can,” Valtis replies, “but I’d like to make a deal with you. Don’t destroy me, you wouldn’t be able to retrieve Nux’s soul.” Dagne points their poleaxe at him threateningly anyway, “talk.” Valtis smiles, “you give me Garthir and I’ll give you the sword with Nux’s soul in it.” Garthir pipes up in Dagne’s mind, “I’d rather not be given to a Rakshasa.” “Prove Nux is in there,” Dagne says. “Sure,” Valtis says, still smiling, “touch the sword now.”

Reluctantly, Dagne reaches out and places a hand on the blade. They hear Nux, “for a damn minute would all of y’all fuckers shut up?” They also hear a meld of other souls surrounding Nux, screaming, threatening to consume them. Nux suddenly goes silent in their tirade against the other souls and whispers, “Dagne?” Then, they shout, “Dagne!”

Valtis draws the sword back, “that’s them in there. You can recognize their mind.” Dagne doesn’t hesitate, “deal.” Garthir sighs, “that was not a good idea on your part.” Simultaneously, Dagne passes their poleaxe to Valtis and Valtis passes the demonglass sword to Dagne. As soon as they take the weapon, it morphs into a poleaxe made of one solid piece of demonglass. Dagne glances over at Vakaris, and Valtis follows their gaze. “Oh, I have one more thing to do here,” he says nonchalantly. Then, suddenly, he’s behind Vakaris and stabs him through the neck with Dagne’s own poleaxe! Valtis shoots Dagne a wicked grin and vanishes in a puff of acrid smoke.

“Vak!” Dagne shouts, running up to their brother. He’s fallen, clutching at his ruined neck, and Dagne can tell he’s already dead. They fall to their knees and lay hands on his wound, willing him to come back, to not fall to Dolurrh. Miraculously, red light flows into him, mending his spine and torn throat and stitching blood vessels and skin together, and catches his fleeing soul. He breathes in, shakily and shocked, then deeper as he sits up and regards his blood on his palms. “Oh! I sure died there…” he trails off and looks at Dagne, “oh, you.” “Yes, it is me.” “Wait, how’d you bring me back to life?” Dagne hardly knows themselves, it’s the first time they’ve been able to do that, “I’m sworn to protect the living. The power of my oath empowers me. Brother, you are alive.” Vakaris stands up, “so I am. You are not though.”

“No, I’m not,” Dagne replies seriously, “I hope you can forgive me for going off to die.” Vakaris’ voice breaks a little, “how could I blame you for saving me?” “Vakaris…” words fail them. “Course, I was a damn fool and signed up with the wolves,” he says sadly. “We both made the same mistake. I’m just glad you’re alive. Thank you for staying alive.” “Thank you for bringing me back to live, I would say,” he rambles, “I almost have half a mind to fight you, I would say.” “No,” they reply, “you should go and live. Leave the Red Watchers and make a new life for yourself without revenge. Go to Korth and find Andrev the Wolf, he is in much the same situation as you. He can help.” Vakaris listens and considers for a moment, “that does sound like a better idea. Oh, fuck, wait. Can you tell me anything about that dwarf?” He rubs his neck. “Valtis Redeyes, a Red Watcher and also a Rakshasa,” Dagne explains. Vak’s eyes widen, “I am not going to report to those guys again. Anything you can tell me about this Andrev before I leave?” “He’s former Claw, but he’s a good man. I trust him implicitly.” “That’s good. Well…” Vakaris dusts himself off and puts on his helmet, “hope to see you again, Almante, er…” “Dagne.”

The two part ways and Dagne returns to the party’s room. They take a minute to gather themselves, then wake the party. “I have it,” they announce, showing the group the demonglass poleaxe. “What did you do?” Vaeren asks. Dagne doesn’t respond to them, “Ev, unwrap Nux’s body.” He complies silently. “Can you explain like, anything here?” VAeren asks again, annoyed. “I made a deal and got Nux back,” they reply. Dagne then focuses on the weapon. They have a thought, which feels like their own, but they know it’s not. They place the flat of the axe blade on Nux’s forehead and revivify. Red light pours out over Nux’s body. The holes in their chest close, their heart knits itself back together and starts beating, they gasp for breath, alive. They shoot sitting upright.

“Nux!” Dagne shouts, overjoyed. Nux looks over at Dagne, who falls to their knees and hugs them tightly. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” they say, “I couldn’t do anything but get you back. Ev pats the shocked Nux on the back, “we thought you were gone.” Finally, Nux processes the situation. They begin laughing hysterically, “I’m someone who’s survived death seven times!” “I’m so happy you’re alive,” Dagne says. Nux wriggles free of the hug and inspects their cut up shirt, “damn, I kinda liked this outfit,” they then glance around the room, then right at Dagne and the demonglass poleaxe, “what the fuck did you do now, chalk stick?” “Valtis Redeyes is a Rakshasa,” Dagne explains, “he offered me a deal, the artifact, Garthir, for you. There was no decision to make.” Ev is horrified, “we needed that!” Vaeren remarks sarcastically, “so what are you going to do? Trap him in that weapon?” “That’s not exactly an unreasonable idea,” Nux says, looking at it. “Exactly,” Dagne says. Vaeren ignores the comments and goes to give Nux a hug. “Yo,” Nux says, “if we’re done with this shitshow can we go get some food? I’ve been dead almost a month so I’m hungry as Mabar. Also, I need a new shirt.” “Sure,” Dagne says, their voice sounding like a smile, “let’s go.”

The party heads to a restaurant called The Karrnathi Breakfast, which naturally serves typical Karrnathi breakfast food: toast, steak, milk products, cheese, and eggs. Nux, absolutely famished, orders two stacks of cheese, apple, and blueberry stuffed pancakes and a nightwood ale. Ev orders a breakfast sandwich consisting of steak, egg, and cheese on toast. Vaeren gets plain pancakes topped with seasonal fruit. Dagne, remembering the taste of food, sadly orders just an emberwheat ale, wishing they could eat something.

When their meal is over, the party walks over to Nenad’s neighborhood. Surprisingly, once they reach his neighborhood, they see him running down the street. Within moments, the thing he’s running from turns out of an alley. He’s pursued by six werewolves!

——————

Highlights:

Losing my mind over the Yuan-ti Baron being some Brelish noble named Francis ir’Stanburry. That whole scene was hilarious, with Dagne carefully maneuvering to not kill anyone while keeping up their act.

Vaeren was absolutely the MVP in that discussion, keeping the Dreambreaker Covenant from doing anything rash while Dagne sorted things out with the Baron.

Bartholomew Skipwith, a Sword of the Brelish Crown, saying Swords of Crown don’t tolerate undead to Dagne? Threat. Huge threat. Hate that.

I’m still angry that Vaeren and Ev tried to argue in favor of letting Nux stay dead.

Why did Valtis kill Vakaris? Just to be an asshole I’m assuming. Lords of Dust didn’t count on Dagne knowing how to cast revivify though.

“There was no decision to make” is such an utterly raw line. Dagne really fights for Nux.

Nux being alive again makes me so happy! They brought the joy back to the party with their humorous take on being dead and brought back.

Session 41.

[traumacatholic]

For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy

-  St. Therese of Lisieux

What is Prayer?

In the Catholic Church, prayer is "the raising of one's mind and heart to God or the requesting of good things from God." It is an act of the moral virtue of religion, which Catholic theologians identify as a part of the cardinal virtue of justice.

The basic forms of prayer are adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, and supplication, abbreviated as A.C.T.S.

Prayer is a dialogue that allows us to communicate directly with God, and it invites God to speak directly to us. Here we can rejoice in the glory of God, as well as ask Him for guidance, support, and for particular things such as to get a new job or to do well in a test.

When can we pray?

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

We are called to pray constantly, and with that in mind, there is no right or wrong time to pray. We can set aside particular time each day for prayer, but we can also pray while commuting to work, whilst carrying out chores, or before going on stage to deliver a speech.

What does prayer look like?

With the above in mind, prayer can look very different depending on the circumstances. Prayer can look like the beauty of the Catholic Mass, it can look like us on our knees with our eyes closed, or it can look like us just going about our regular day. 

You can light some candles or incense, you can put some hymns on, you can go onto your knees or to sit with your hands resting on your knees, or you can pray whilst walking about. There is no correct ‘look’ for prayer, so don’t be afraid to experiment and see what works best for you!

How do we pray?

Prayer can be mental, vocal, or a combination of both. Mental prayer can be meditative or contemplative. 

Meditation is a form of mental prayer and is, “a silent elevation and application of our mind and heart to God in order to offer Him our homages and to promote His glory by our own advancement in virtue.”

St. Thomas Aquinas called contemplative prayer the, “simple gaze on truth” and St. Teresa of Avila said, “Contemplative prayer in my opinion is nothing else than a close sharing between friends; it means frequently taking time to be alone with Him who we know loves us.” [source]

Vocal prayer is exactly what it sounds like - verbalising out loud. This can be through speaking or singing. 

Some prayers, such as the Rosary, are a combination of mental and vocal prayer. Such as how you vocalise the Hail Mary and the other prayers, while meditating on the mysteries. You can read out loud pre-written prayers, or you can come up with your own.

Don’t worry so much about saying the perfect thing, ultimately it’s about what’s in our heart. 

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. And he who searches the hearts of men knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

- Romans 8:26-27

Some short prayers

Here are ten short prayers that would be good for you to learn:

Hail Mary

Our Father

Glory be

Prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel

Help with Depression

Morning prayer

Evening prayer

Prayer to our Guardian Angel

Prayer for perseverance in Faith

The Golden Arrow prayer

Longer prayers

Here are ten longer prayers that you might find beneficial to pray

Little Litany of the Holy Souls

Litany of Humility

Prayer for stronger Faith

Prayer for those that want to believe

Prayer for the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit

Peace prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

Prayer to Saint Jude for healing from Depression

Prayer to Saint Padre Pio for anxiety, fear, and worry

Prayer for strength

Prayer in time of suffering

Prayer Challenge

If you’ve never prayed before, or don’t pray regularly, why not give this challenge a try? Pick one or two (or more!) of these prayers and say it each day (or night) for two weeks. You could also try saying a different prayer/s each day depending on what you best feel in that moment.

If you forget a day, don’t worry! You can either say the prayer twice the next day, or you can just add on an extra day. 

I would love to hear your experiences with praying each day for 2 weeks. If you want, you could make this challenge a bit longer and base it around praying every day for a month. 

You don’t have to be Christian to do this, and you don’t have to be 100% certain that praying will do anything for you. But I’d love to hear about your experiences with praying! It can definitely be hard to get started with prayer, but having something clear to work towards and with someone who is more than happy to support you, hopefully this can seem like a less daunting experience. You can do daily / weekly updates and tag me in them so I can read your experiences. 

God bless you on your journey!

[koolkat9]

How about 28 and 45 for GerEng? :>

WOOOO Let’s go with my boys!

Ship Asks

28 - What are their vacations like?

For the most part vacations are pretty calm for them. Sure Ludwig does a bunch of planning because this is Ludwig, but when they go on vacation they go to relax so they don’t have an action packed itinerary.

They may visit each others nations, showing each other special places only locals or even fewer people know about, chilling at each other’s houses, etc. 

Sometimes they visit Italy or Portugal if they’re looking for something a little warmer. Most of their time is spent at where they’re stay (which is usually beachfront) where they’ll swim, relax in the sun and just overall enjoy each other’s company. Also they’ll tour local restaurants based on their friends’ suggestions

Then there is their favorite place to go: Alfred and Matthew’s cottage. They usually don’t have to plan much. One day they may spend shopping in the nearby town since there are a lot of cute little shops there, but most of the time they’ll spend it at the cottage, swimming in the lake, lounging around on the deck and once more, just enjoying each other’s company. And it’s so quiet with the nearest town being miles away and acres between the cottage and their neighbors. 

45 - Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets?

Hmm...That’s tough. I think mainly they want to stay together for the long run. A long lasting relationship between nations is hard, but in modern times, the little influence they had in the past has diminished at this point despite some of them pretending they still have it (*coughcough* Ludwig) so they’ve become distant from politics. This has allowed these two to actually believe that maybe they could make this work. Specifically Arthur is very hopeful (for once). He’s had heartbreaks in the past: Francis, Afonso, both that had to end due to the relations of their nations and political falling outs. But now...Now that they are able to have more personal lives, perhaps Ludwig and him could make it.

TW for reference to alcohol/drug abuse, poor coping mechanisms and mental health struggles.

There are many regrets. 

Arthur regrets all the scares he gave Ludwig in the 80s and 90s with his alcohol and drug abuse, for trying to push him away at multiple times during their early relationship, letting Ludwig suffer during the interwar period. 

Ludwig regrets all the damage he indirectly did to Arthur during the wars. The distance he accidentally put between them in the early 90s as he tried to help Gilbert get back on his feet, and on a more minor level, the times he’s overworked himself and has worried Arthur. 

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: After taking Legolas, your partner, to visit your “Stardust” addict brother, things get a little chaotic.

A/N: I’ve been thinking about Legolas a lot lately, and one thought that’s recently crossed my mind is “what if Legolas got high on crack?” and my brain ran with the rest. Sometimes you just gotta write about an elf on cocaine.

Warnings: drug abuse, addiction, peer pressure, mentions of sex, a very crazy and over-the-top elf high on Stardust.

Dismounting your respective horses, both you and Legolas dropped to the pine needles below. You had finally arrived at your brother’s secluded cottage in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities.

“I can’t believe he actually managed to afford a place to live,” you scoffed, thinking of your brother.

He had suffered many years with addiction to “Stardust”—a white powder when once inhaled, made your body react faster and more impulsively than usual.

“Try to be optimistic,” Legolas soothed. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “Keep in mind how much you want your older brother at our wedding, and that’ll put things into perspective.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, supposing he was right. “This wouldn’t be the first time Franny lied about ‘being better’, though.”

“No,” Legolas agreed, walking you both forward towards the cottage, arm around your back. “But this is the first time he’s said so upon us getting married in a month.”

The grin he gave you was one brimming in lovesickness, as he studied your eyes.

You arched a brow up at him over his words, knowing exactly how elvish marriages were undertaken, and how you technically already were husband and wife.

Catching your expression, he cleared his throat sheepishly, and responded with, “Well…married formally, at least.”

You rolled your eyes away from him, but couldn’t fight the smile on your face. However, it soon ran away, as you both arrived at the closed front door.

You inhaled tightly, and spoke aloud. “Here we are, I suppose.”

Hearing the premature disappointment in your voice, Legolas looked down his side at you. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, he gazed into your eyes and reassured you.

“Hey,” he lulled, earning your full attention. “It’s all going to be fine, all right? You needn’t worry about your family embarrassing you in front of me, like you mentioned on the road. We’ve talked about this whole ‘prince and commoner’ thing at length. I wouldn’t have…married you if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Your heart melted and your knees turned to mush, as you smiled up at him—bursting with love.

He returned the look and brought one hand up to cup your cheek. Running a thumb along your cheekbone, he began tilting your head upwards.

Still feeling your stomach flutter after all these years, you eyed him in excitement, before steadily closing your lids.

Right before his lips could brush against yours, however, the door to your brother’s cottage slammed opened.

Jolting away from one another, you both looked at Francis in shock. He looked every bit like you, but taller.

A broad grin was on Francis’ face, as he eyed his sister up.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to tackle you into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it! Oh! I haven’t seen you in years! And to think that you’re now getting married! Speaking of which—”

He pulled back from squeezing you blue, to size up Legolas instead. He strutted forwards with a low, manly laugh, and gripped a suddenly rigid and wide-eyed Legolas tight on the shoulders.

“My future brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling the protesting elf into a bear hug. “An elf, AND a prince! I can’t believe how well my sister scored!”

Laughing nervously, Legolas awkwardly wrapped his arms around Francis, patting him on the back. The only person he’d ever truly been skin-to-skin intimate with was you. Everyone else got a closed fist to the chest, or a shoulder clasp.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Francis,” Legolas said, politely.

“Francis?” he exclaimed, pulling back and holding Legolas straight by the shoulders. “Who are you, my mother? Don’t be so formal, your highness! You can just call me ‘Franny’, like Y/n here does!”

He turned to you with a broad grin, and you returned it, though, in a lipped manner. Legolas offered a tight and confused grin back, unsure at the best of times on how to interact with humans. Francis was certainly the most bizarre one he’d met yet.

He almost regretted encouraging you to visit him, but the thought of your nearing wedding day ahead drove him forward, as well as one simple, repetitive thought.

Do it for Y/n.

Do it for Y/n.

Do it for Y/n.

“Well, don’t be strangers now!” Francis pressed on, ushering you both inside. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”

“Tea is fine, Franny,” you said in an almost scolding tone, knowing he shouldn’t drink at all.

As you stepped inside of the home, you inspected every nook and cranny with your eyes—expecting bags of Stardust to be lying around.

However, to your surprise, there were none.

“Tea coming right up!” Franny declared, whisking away to the kitchen. “Please! Make yourselves at home down at the table!”

Legolas thanked him with a smile, and sat you down in a gentlemanly manner, before taking his seat next to you.

Looking around the room, and pleasantly surprised with your brother, you voiced so aloud.

“Wow, Franny, this place actually looks amazing! I’m quite proud of you—it seems as though you’ve really cleaned up your act this time, as opposed to the last occasion.”

“I’m completely clean, sister!” his voice came from the kitchen. You could also hear the whistling of a kettle and the rattling of drawers.

You smiled up at Legolas with excitement in your eyes, as you truly believed your brother. He returned your smile, and offered a brighter one as you spoke.

“I think he’s really done it…should we invite him now?”

“Absolutely,” he encouraged. “Do you want to go get the invitation out of the saddle-bags?”

Nodding resolutely, you stood to your feet. You placed a peck against his lips, before leaving out the door again.

“Make friends with him,” you said, before leaving with a happy skip in your step.

He waved you goodbye, before Francis’ voice caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey, do you think—oh, where’d she go?”

Legolas looked over his shoulder to find Francis’ head sticking out of the entranceway into the kitchen, as he looked left and right for his sister.

“She’s just stepped outside for a moment,” Legolas answered, politely.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Francis dropped his act, and his expression.

The change in demeanour chased the smile away from Legolas’ face, as he parted his lips in shock up at the man.

“I beg your pardon?” Legolas asked, already on the “what did you just say about my wife?” boat.

“She can be a real nagger sometimes,” Francis explained. He dropped to his knees and pulled a wooden plank out from the floorboards. Underneath, a brown bag of white powder lay.

He fetched it quickly, and came to sit on the couch next to Legolas, but a few feet away. Francis then began pouring a handful out, where he next went onto inhaling some.

“What are you doing?!” Legolas nearly squealed, jumping to his feet, as if a snake was just placed next to him.

“Elevating myself. What’s it look like, elf?” Francis sassed, quirking a brow up at Legolas.

“Are you insane?” the angry side of Legolas emerged. “Y/n just left to retrieve your wedding invitation, and you’re betraying her trust?”

“Relax, would you?” Francis complained, inhaling more of the dust from his hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his body.

Looking his brother-in-law up and down, Francis replied, using a very monotonous voice. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. You’re a real stud of a stallion, so what?”

“No, that’s not what I—” Legolas went to defend himself. However, he bit his tongue and pressed both hands together in a praying motion. He brought said hands up to his face, and rested his forehead against them.

Closing his eyes, Legolas took a deep breath of his own.

“Wow, you look really stressed there, my friend,” Franny pointed out, holding the bag up next. “Would you like to try some?”

Jolted back into his senses, Legolas gaped down at the man for a minute in shock, before anger gave way again. “NO, FRANCIS! I WOULD NOT LIKE SOME OF YOUR DRUGS! Y/n will be devastated when she finds out you’re using again! And I encouraged her to give you another chance—I see why she was so against it now.”

The frown and glare of Legolas only deepened, as Franny rose to his feet, squaring up with the slightly taller elf.

“Hey, pal, you have no idea what I’m all about,” he growled, nodding his head in gesture of the elf. “And besides, who are you to judge? You’ve never even tried Stardust before!”

“Oh,” Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “excuse me for having never done drugs before, what a horribly ignorant elf I am.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Francis urged, holding up a handful to Legolas’ nose. “C’mon, just a little sniff! You’ll feel a lot calmer soon, I promise!”

“No!” Legolas rejected, swatting his hands. “Get that stuff away from me, Francis!”

“C’mon!” Francis drew out, trying to put it underneath Legolas’ dodging nose. “Just a little bit of Stardust won’t hurt you!”

“No, but it’ll hurt Y/n!” he protested, trying to move away from the adamant man.

“Just a little!” he urged again, chasing Legolas, as the elf was backed into a corner.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“I SAID NO!”

“Okay, you know what?” Francis rolled his eyes, now fully having the elf cornered. “Here!”

With one big puff of air, the entire handful of Stardust blew into Legolas’ face, entering his system almost immediately.

Legolas rapidly blinked his eyes open and shut, as he tried to get rid of the dust. The white powder danced between the man and elf in an equal amount, getting both high very quickly.

As the dust fluttered down to the floor, looking as though a bag of flour had just exploded, Legolas stared at his brother-in-law in shock.

“You…” he attempted to say, before he felt the pumping of his heart increase.

“Oh, yes, my friend,” Francis grinned, nodding his head. “You’re in for a good time…”

~

Outside, you had finally found the wedding invitation in your saddle-bag, now heading back on over towards the cottage.

You barely had time to announce your presence again, for the first thing you saw upon re-entering was your brother and husband kneeled on the floor, speaking fast and brooming up…flour?

“I feel like everything’s gonna work out, you know? Because I’m like clockwork!” your brother said, all in one go, to Legolas, as they quickly broomed everything up. “Look how fast I’m cleaning this mess up! Clockwork! I’m moving super-fast! Look at me go!”

Legolas nodded vehemently, and raised one finger to speak over the top of your brother, as they both continued vigorously cleaning the floor.

“Y-You know what’s funny? Can I speak? You know what’s funny?” he began, quick as a whip. “I feel like I should be panicking right now, and I am a little bit, but in a very, very good way—like a good kind of panic, because I feel like I want to die right now, but I also feel very, very good—”

“Hey!” you called, staring at them in confusion. “What on earth are you guys doing?”

“Y/n!” Legolas gasped, shooting to his feet.

Jumping over the couch in a way that made your eyes go wide, Legolas was instantly stood before you.

“I feel amazing!” he revealed, grabbing a chunk of blonde hair either side of his head, and pulling outwards. “LOOK HOW LONG MY HAIR IS! It’s growing out of my head right now—can you believe that? Isn’t that sort of disgusting? Ew, I’ve just made myself feel uncomfortable in my own body—”

Legolas gasped brightly, and met your eyes again. This was where you saw how dilated they were.

“CAN I BORROW YOUR BODY INSTEAD?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your waist. “THAT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA! And I know how to go inside, too, so it’ll all feel much better soon—”

“Are you high on…Stardust?!” you exclaimed, removing his hands from your waist.

Legolas blinked down at you rapidly for a few seconds, before slowly answering.

“No…?”

“I can’t believe it,” you seethed. Pushing past Legolas, you glared down at your laughing brother. “You’re absolutely deplorable, Francis! Don’t even THINK about showing up to the wedding!”

You tore up his invitation, and threw it down onto the ground below. You next began shoving a reluctant Legolas out of the house.

Fortunately, once he felt the pine needles on his feet (he was barefoot, for some reason), he gasped loudly and took off running.

“LOOK HOW GREEN IT IS!” he exclaimed. “HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW GREEN IT IS? THE COLOURS ARE BURSTING RIGHT NOW ALL AROUND ME. I feel as though it’s sort of designed in my honour, you know? As in, nature really understands—SQUIRREL—what my name means.”

You rubbed your temples with a grinding of your teeth, as you watched your husband sprint off to climb a tree, where he beckoned you to join.

Growling, you spoke lowly under your breath.

“This is going to be a long ride home…”

Hearing a strangled yelp, you noticed that Legolas had already fallen out of the tree. You sighed, and began walking over—already knowing your words to be true.

[omegawizardposting]

I’m gonna be candid with y’all: I’ve recently started interacting with the proshipping community. This is a community that I have a lot of criticism for, and that hasn’t changed--but it’s also one I feel I’ve never given a fair shake.

I’ve always been of the mind that the art other people create and consume is none of my business, provided it is not exploitative material of real human beings or animals. (I wouldn’t even call that “art”.) That’s the Internet I grew up on, and as someone who used problematic fiction to cope when I was younger and still does occasionally, I know its therapeutic power.

I have also been morbidly fascinated with dark art since I was a child, starting with horror movies at age, oh, I ‘dunno, six or seven. Suzzan Blac, Francis Bacon, Francisco Goya’s Black Paintings, Yuko Tatsushima, Everywhere At The End Of Time; there is something genuinely magnetic about the darkness of the human soul and the suffering we endure. I love all art, but I am drawn most often to that which tells a tragically human story.

So I want to write with people of a similar mindset. I want to create in an environment that encourages freedom of expression. I want to see what this community is like. I want to become more intimately knowledgable of its positives and its negatives. I want to form a more cohesive view of it.

No, I don’t like loli/shota or incest. That hasn’t changed either. There are still problematic tropes and dynamics that make my skin crawl. I am extremely tame compared to most proshippers I’ve encountered, and I have boundaries that I have set for myself. Thus far, those boundaries have been respected, and everyone I’ve interacted with has been very kind.

I have another blog for interacting with the proshipping community, and maybe someday I’ll reveal it. This blog isn’t for that. You don’t have to worry about seeing anything you don’t want to see here at kingcasanuva.tumblr.com. This adventure is one I’m taking on my lonesome.

I have no idea how all of this will turn out. Maybe I’ll end up hating the proshipping community. Maybe I’ll end up pleasantly surprised by it. Maybe I’ll confront some of my biases, and maybe I’ll have some of them reinforced.

Only time will tell!

[mandelene]

≣: hand holding — a 17 year old Alfred is a pedestrian in a bad hit-and-run accident and is brought into Arthur’s ER. Arthur doesn’t find out until they’re wheeling him into the OR.

Love and Rage

Word Count: 1243

“Seventeen-year-old male en route to trauma – should be arriving any minute now. Hit and run on the corner of Lexington and East 39th Street. Patient was walking to the subway after getting food with friends at Shake Shack. EMS says vitals are stable but the patient was briefly unconscious and there’s suspected head trauma – bleeding along his hairline from when he hit the concrete. Patient was also complaining of shortness of breath and feeling dizzy. Bruising and swelling around his left side where he was struck, including his hip, thigh, and knee. Ribs tender to touch on the left side as well.”

Arthur sucks in a breath through his teeth as he overhears the trauma team receive report. Seventeen—that’s the same age as his boys. How devastating for the teen and his family. How could someone hit a child and then drive off? The thought makes him shudder.

He continues his charting, turning his attention back to his own patients. They have a level one trauma center—the boy is in good hands at least and has an entire team of doctors waiting for his arrival.

He doesn’t pay it any more mind…

Until he sees the bruised boy being brought in on a stretcher.

Arthur’s body goes cold and stiff. His knees weaken. He thinks he might vomit or faint, or both. He stands up from his chair on wobbly legs and grips the edge of the counter of the nurses’ station, trying to confirm if his eyes aren’t deceiving him.

The boy on the stretcher is Alfred.

He is reminded of the conversation he had with Alfred two nights ago—he had asked if he could go to the city with friends after school...

For three entire seconds—the longest seconds of his life—Arthur is paralyzed. He watches helplessly as Alfred is rushed into the trauma bay.

And then, he drops everything and runs.

“Alfred,” he gasps as he reaches the trauma team and pushes past them. “Alfred!”

His son’s blue eyes are glassy as they shift over to him. Splotches of red and purple hematomas are scattered across his face and chest, the left side of his forehead is dirty with sticky, dried blood, and he appears dazed and confused.

He takes Alfred’s hand and squeezes it. It suddenly feels so small and fragile—so easily breakable. “Oh, Alfred…It’s going to be all right, love. I-It’s going to be just fine,” he manages to say despite the sudden incredible ache in his heart.

One of the emergency medicine doctors on the team touches his shoulder and says, “We’re going to need you to wait outside. I’ll find you as soon as I can, okay?”

Arthur swallows against the lump of grief in his throat. Of course…He’s just going to be a distraction—too overwrought to be of any use to Alfred right now anyway. Treatment first, emotions later.

He gives Alfred’s hand one more warm squeeze and kisses his forehead before excusing himself from the trauma bay. When he exits, everyone at the nurses’ station is staring at him but trying their hardest to seem discreet about it.

He retreats to the doctors’ lounge and calls Francis.

That’s all he can do right now.

And he hates himself for it.

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

They wait an agonizing four hours before they’re given the full list of damage. Three fractured ribs, a concussion—but no bleeding in the brain, which is a huge relief—fractures to both his patella and tibia with displacement (requiring surgery), a dislocated hip (also surgically treated), and a collapsed lung.

But he should be fine with rest, monitoring, and supplemental oxygen.

It takes all of Arthur’s strength not to break down when he gets the news. He hugs Francis tightly outside of the pediatric ICU, shaking.

“We can go in and see him,” Arthur rasps in a hoarse voice, glancing over at Matthew, who is sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting area and looks so pale he’s matching the shade of the wall behind him.

Francis murmurs, “I’ll stay here with Mathieu for another few minutes. It’s…It’s going to be difficult to see him, and I think we both need a moment to prepare ourselves.”

“Okay, I’ll go then. Only two visitors at a time are allowed anyway,” Arthur says, steeling himself. He knows he’s seen worse in the past, but seeing his own child suffering is a different beast entirely.

He alerts Alfred’s nurse of his presence and then enters the boy’s room, inwardly pleading with himself to hold back the intense sorrow washing over him when he sees the oxygen mask on Alfred’s face and the chest tube creeping out from under his hospital gown.

He knows the boy has been through a great deal of pain, and he hopes the painkillers he’s getting are strong enough to at least grant him some reprieve.

Alfred’s eyes are closed at first, but he opens them halfway when he hears his footsteps. He’s still a bit woozy from anesthesia and the cocktail of pain medication—that much is clear.

“…Dad…?” Alfred asks very quietly. A few tears roll down his bruised face.

“I’m here, love,” Arthur replies, hastily taking up the chair by the bedside and grabbing hold of Alfred’s right hand. “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through…But you’re going to be all right, and that’s all that matters right now…Don’t cry, poppet. Shhh…”

Arthur carefully pets the boy’s head and wipes away his tears. “I know, darling. I know…”

Alfred rolls his head to the side wearily, and Arthur holds him against his chest very gently, doing his best to console him without causing him any additional pain.

“You’re going to be all better with time,” Arthur promises. “I won’t let anything happen to you, and I wish I could have protected you today…I’m so sorry.”

Alfred sniffles and bites back a sob so as to not irritate his ribs and his lungs. “I’m so tired…And scared.”

“Close your eyes and try to rest. Don’t be scared—I’ll be here should anything else happen.”

“It hurts…”

Arthur can feel his heart being torn in half, straight down the middle. “I know, love,” he sighs, placing a hand against Alfred’s forehead and holding it there—a steady warmth to calm him. “Your Papa and Matthew are going to come in soon. They’re very worried about you. We all are. But we’re also going to do whatever we can to help you get well soon.”

“Are you gonna leave later?” Alfred asks, voice quavering.

“No, no. Of course not. One parent is always allowed to stay. I’ll be here all night. I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“…Promise?”

“I promise,” Arthur replies without hesitation, combing a hand through the boy’s hair. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving. Do you think I’d be able to sit at home without you? Worrying sick about you? Never,” he assures.

That’s the thing about children—they never understand how much you love them. How you would give up your entire world for them. How everything falls apart when something happens to them…How you can’t imagine yourself living on without them…

If he could find the driver who did this, he would kill them. Would wrap his bare hands around their neck and make them feel the same pain.

The rage inside of him—it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

When Francis and Matthew take his place by Alfred's bedside, he goes to the men’s restroom and cries.

[tommyspeakycap]

“It’s a couple minutes after midnight and there were already a couple resolutions broken.”

with tommy maybe?

thank you for all your writing. those past two prompts made my first day of 2021 so much more enjoyable, as all your writing helped 2020 (a really shitty year for me personally as well as overall!) you’re an Angel x

that’s so kind of you to say!! i hope this year treats you a lot better x sending love ! x

Tommy nods his head in the direction of his sister after she placed a crystal glass of his favourite expensive whiskey into his hand while he continues his conversation with Arthur. “You can add manners to your fucking list of resolutions, ungrateful bastard.” Ada huffs in response to this, scoffing at her elder brother as she sits down and takes a drink of wine.

“Swear jar!”

Heads turn to the two little boys standing mischievously in the doorway in their pyjamas with huge grins. Ada rolls her eyes playfully at her son and nephew as you appear behind them. “I told them they could stay up a bit longer, behaviour permitting eh boys?” You ruffle both of their hair and feel your son wrap his arms around your leg, “Of course mummy! love you!” His words make you beam, your love for him so obvious in the way that your eyes shine. It makes Tommy smile from across the room.

You walk in carrying a small plate of some homemade shortbread to place on one of the small tables in the large family room that the entire Shelby family was occupying in yours and Tommy’s huge country estate. “Exactly Karl,” Tommy says, pointing at his nephew as he moves the conversation back to the issue of his sisters profanity. “Swear jar, Ada.”

Ada shakes her head, but honours the newly instated Shelby swear jar rule and puts a few coins into the glass begrudgingly. “We were talking about resolutions,” Arthur informs you, “Tom said he’ll cut back on the smokes, right Tom?” You turn to your husband, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as he sits on the couch, one elbow resting over the arm of the couch with that glass of whiskey in his hand and the other arm around your daughter half asleep leaning against his chest . “Really daddy?” Your daughter remarks quietly. You watch him shrug his shoulders. “Course.” He says. “I know how much your mother hates it,” he paused to lean closer to her to whisper, “and i love your mother very very much, so i’ll do it for her,” with a gentle wink. You didn’t hear those words, but watching him with the daughter he loved so much made your heart swell.

“And stop swearing!” Ada chimes, prompting a giggle from you. “Around the kids, at least.” Polly adds as she sips from her champagne glass. Tommy rolls his eyes again, feeling rather under fire from his tipsy family. With your heart fluttering every so slightly in your chest because to the rest of them, the resolutions that the head of their family was attempting were just that, silly resolutions that everyone makes every year. But to you, or rather between you and Tommy, those were changes you had voiced your wish for many times, especially since your daughter had been running around the house shouting “By order of the Peaky Fucking Blinders!” at the top of her lungs with the plastic gun John had gotten her since Christmas.

It was, of course more the smoking that bothered you. You worried constantly about his health, you knew it couldn’t be good at all that he was at the point practically a chain smoker. You wanted him to see his children grow up. You wanted to spent as long with his as you could get with the life you all lived.

“A man after my own heart,” you coo, leaning down to peck his lips, the cheeky nature of your husband kicking in as he slips his tongue between your lips and somehow manages to hook his arm around you and pull you down onto his lap without spilling his drink. You pull back, shaking your head at him playfully with a smile as you lean back against him. You hear John snigger from across the room, “He was going to quit drinking.” He taunts, nodding his head to the amber liquid in Tommy’s glass.

“Not the new year yet, John.” Tommy glares, but you know drinking isn’t going to be likely something that Tommy is going to stop, especially not within the next five minute before the year changes. The only thing that really matters to you is that he’s going to try. Esme hits John’s arm as a means of telling him to shut up and stop teasing his brother. They knew he was trying to make these changes for you.

“Mrs Shelby?” You turn your head to the maid standing cautiously at the door. “The baby is awake.” You nod your head, patting Tommy’s knee to prompt him to release him arm from around your waist. “I’ll get him, thank you Francis.” The maid nods her head and you kiss your husbands cheek. Tommy, as he always does, follows you with his eyes as you leave the room. A twinkle gleaming as he thinks about you and the newest addition to your family. The way you hold the baby boy, glowing with happiness even in the middle of the night reminds him of everything that is good in his world. His family is all that keeps him going and he knows for a fact that he would not be able to survive without you.

“Hello baby,” you coo as you enter the nursery, “Suppose you want to wish everyone a happy new year mister? oh aren’t you just the more gorgeous baby.” As you lift him into your arms to cradle him gently, you find yourself getting lost in time thinking about how much you love your family. You felt blessed to have three happy and healthy children despise everything that you had done and everything that had been done to you in your life. You had suffered a lot and caused suffering in some cases, so you felt as though there was nothing you could have done that would have amounted to you deserving three beautiful little humans who love you unconditionally. You didn’t know you could even love that much until you held your babies in your arms. And the way you got to see Tommy love them and care for them and become the man you had known all those years ago before he was traumatised by the war was the most beautiful thing to you.

Having children made him a better husband and a better man. You counted yourself lucky to get to be the woman who’s hand he holds as you walk together throw the fields behind the house, watching your son and daughter race and tackle each other in the snow or run through the long grass in the winter. For those moments where there was peace from the world, from the dangers and demands of the great Thomas Shelby, everything was made worth the battles.

You’re dragged from your admirational daze when you hear Tommy’s heavy footsteps falling behind you as he walks into the room. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a long kiss against your cheek. “Happy New Year, Mrs Shelby.” You hum contently at his words, “Mm, Happy New Year to you, Mr Shelby.” Tommy gently rubs his finger over the small head of hair on his new son, “And you, sweet baby.” His voice rumbles lowly in your ear as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “What’re you doing up here?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. Tommy averts his eyes, taking a few steps back to sit on the rocking chair by the window. “Might’ve broke a few resolutions.” He murmurs, the awkward embarrassment feeling that he only ever gets with you rises up to flush his cheeks just like it used to when you first got together all those years ago.

You giggle slightly, placing the baby back down in his crib. The carpet is soft beneath your bare feet as you cross to Tommy, reaching out a hand to lift his chin so he’s forced to look up at you. “It’s ten past midnight Tom, what did you do?” You don’t speak with malice or anger, instead a hint of humour leaking through your words. Tommy shakes his head, “Just had a drink. Not important.” He uses his arms again to hook you down onto his lap. This time, you tuck your head under his chin to rest on his chest, closing your eyes softly for a moment. “What is important,” he continues, “Is how much i love you. And our family, so much.” He feels you smiling, “I love you too.”

Tommy rests his chin gently on top of your head. “Love you more.” He feels you laugh slightly this time as it dawns on your he may be fully serious about how much he loves you, but he’s also buttering you up.

“Thomas?” you query, voice raising in pitch every so slightly. “Mhm?” he responds, neither of you moving from your the comfort of your position. “Didnt you say you broke, resolutions? Not just a resolution?” You now sit back so you can look at him as he grimaces at you, “Well, that’s not really-“

Your head snaps between your little girl and your now apolgetically and almost painfully grimacing husband after you hear her adorable little voice practically answering your question for you before words could even leave Tommy’s lips with her sweet voice shouting;

“Daddy! Remember you need to put money in the shitty bastarding swear jar!”

[mbticomrades]

n e o n g e n e s i s

e v a n g e l i o n ! !: (1/4) shinji ikari, big 3 astrology head cannon.

scorpio in sun: ♏️

scorpio being a fixed sign, focuses its ambitious and drive on rebirth. shinji is constantly looking for change and self transformation. he is almost obsessed with the idea of self improvement and becoming better but whats stopping him? his inability to let go of his traumatic past.

since scorpio is a water sign, he is introverted and very passive. his feelings r very easily hurt and intense, which leads him to b very resentful towards everyone in his life. scorpios find it hard to reach out emotionally due to their trust issues. which is the main problem of with all of shinji’s relationships. he wants to connect with people but his fear of rejection is constantly getting in the way. leading him to shut out the outside world. through all this, shinji is also aware of his own faults; as most scorpios r very self aware.

moon in cancer: ♋️

cancer moons look at the world on an emotional plane and they find it very hard to open up. they can let their emotions get the best of them and become very irritable and moody. cancers moons internalize their impression/experiences with world on an extremely personal level, which leads to them being very avoidant and developing some escapist coping mechanisms.

your moon sign also can represent your relationship with your mother. i feel it also helps understand shinji and the relationship with all the women in his life. (ex. misato, asuka, and rei)

cancer moons very often form co dependent relationships. shinji want attention and love from their mother and the women in his life, but they can be too busy with their pain and deep emotions. they may suffer from difficulties in life and shinji feel it with them. shinji is very easy to hurt by their words and accept them as truth. but after everything, shinji will always b there for them.

ascendent in pisces: ♓️

pisces risings r very idealistic and can often b living in their own world. though shinji can b very self aware, he also loves to live in his own mind and completely ignores his reality. pisces rising pick and choose what they want to knowledge and ignore what they don’t. pisces risings r also very easily impressionable and influenced by the outside world. which causes them to b indecisive, self deceptive, and careless.

they can b agreeable to the point they might allow themselves to be stepped on, which sadly attracts people who will use their kindness without giving them anything in return. shinji feels that he want to escape, and that life is in many ways constrictive both physically and emotionally.

….so i lied a bit about the jojo series… i apologize 😭 i was gonna do it but then i lost so much interest in it so i didn’t BUT i will do not worry our jojo followers…u will get ur content soon i promise.

this is probably very sloppy because i gained the energy to start and finish this at 3 am and lost all that energy half way through 💀 this is a new format for me so please please INTERACT so i can know if u guys want more of this or if u think i should explain a little less. maybe even if u prefer the old format let me know!

i plan on redoing like all of my hcs because they were all dodo. asuka’s will come out soon or when i feel like it. now bye bye i need my beauty rest. -francis, the entp mod :p

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH38

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 38: Star Death Reality Show (XXI) {cw: gore}

"The explosion just now was because Mark shot a rocket launcher underground, but as you can see, I’m unscathed. The origin of the rocket launcher is somewhat complicated. In fact, there's a huge research institute hidden in the underground beneath this village. Before, I met He Yi there..." Qi Leren explained the previous events, and the framing of his “miracle” made his words' credibility soar, full of brainwashing persuasiveness. Once he had recounted his story, three minutes had elapsed, and the illusory wings behind him gradually dissipated in the air, his feet set foot on the ground again, and the silvery spots of light around him disappeared.

But even though he had returned to his normal state, Lara couldn’tn't look at him the same way as before.

"You seem to have a lot of questions." Qi Leren stopped his story, stared at Lara, and spoke in a tone that was definitely not his usual voice.

"Yes... I... You... Who are you?" Lara asked.

Qi Leren smiled: "I have already answered this question."

Lara certainly remembered that he said he was an apostle of God. After this impact on her worldview, she obviously couldn't take this answer as a joke.

"You’re really..." Lara murmured. She was afraid of this answer from the bottom of her heart.

Qi Leren looked at her gently and nodded his head.

Lara took a step back and took a deep breath of cold air. The chill through her heart and lungs calmed her down, but there was a flame burning in her heart, burning her questioning heart.

Seeing was believing, however, and she had nothing to say.

"Now... What are we going to do?" Lara asked. She seemed to have lost her cognitive functions after the shock of this scene, and listened to the apostle's commands like a docile little sheep.

"A lot of things. There is only one mature octopus left, but we can't find him for the time being. There may be a few larvae that have just completed parasitism, and they won’t be too aggressive... Let's gather those who are still alive. We can enter the underground research institute, where there’s a machine that can detect whether someone has become a host," Qi Leren said.

They acted quickly. Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue were woken up in the middle of the night and were taken away in a daze. As they walked, Qi Leren kindly asked what they had done today, and found no abnormalities. He wasn’t sure whether these people were infected now, but they had no ability to spread in this the first day after being parasitized, so he wasn’t too worried. As long as he could take them to the instruments in the underground research institute.

Xue Jiahui, Mark, and Annie were dead, and there were only ten contestants who may be alive at present. Among them, one had a mature octopus in their body, and eight or nine times out of ten, this person was Francis. But looking at the present situation: Dr. Lu and Du Yue were missing, He Yi was also missing, and Francis was also missing.

Qi Leren and his party found Janet and Alex, who weren’t as obedient as the Jing sisters, but even those who didn’t want to cooperate were convinced after Qi Leren took out his handgun. Although Janet wanted to keep her mouth shut, when Qi Leren shot the vase beside her, she spoke honestly.

Qi Leren smiled kindly, looked at this group of people who had gone silent, and sincerely understood the joy of getting things through violence.

The five people were led back to Annie's house and were amazed when they entered the attic, as they hadn't thought that such a secret room was hidden in the house. When they entered the basement, the messy sight before their eyes and the lingering smoke that hadn’t yet dissipated silenced everyone.

Janet looked at Qi Leren with indecision. Although she had completely regarded the story Qi Leren told as a joke before, she was not those two young girls, Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue, who had gone pale with terror. She didn't believe anything about Leviathan or the amphioctopuses, but her woman's intuition made her keep her mouth shut and look at the situation coldly.

They entered the underground research institute through the blasted tunnel. Right now the power supply wasn’t connected, but Qi Leren knew where to turn on the backup power. He knew where to instruct the five people to go, and he stayed at the back in case of a sudden attack.

Lara, who walked at the front, was very careful all the way, and took a fire axe to defend herself when she passed a fire control station.

In this shadowy underground research institute, the dark and long tunnel was like being in the body of an ancient beast. Within the range illuminated by flashlights, there were dusty relics everywhere. When walking here, their empty footsteps echoed constantly, inspiring the most horrible images in everyone's brain.

Qi Leren suddenly felt that he heard footsteps. He stopped, listened to the sound for a moment, and there was the rush of running in the distance.

"Someone’s coming! Turn off the flashlights and stand against the wall," Qi Leren whispered.

The five people were taken aback, became nervous, and obeyed without thought.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer. Qi Leren stuck to the wall and took the safety off the gun in his hand.

"Huff, huff, huff..." The short breaths were getting closer and closer, and Qi Leren suddenly felt that the sound was a bit familiar. It seemed to be...

"Du Yue?" Just as the man ran around the corner of the corridor, Qi Leren called out his name.

Du Yue slammed on the brakes and almost lost his balance. He looked at Qi Leren with surprise: "Qianbei! Qianbei, are you all right?! You absolutely won’t believe what happened at that time, I—fuck, he's crazy!"

"Steady, speak slowly, where is Dr. Lu?" Qi Leren handed him a bottle of water, and Du Yue unscrewed the bottle cap and drank a few mouthfuls.

"What's going on?" Janet also asked in disbelief. She noticed that Du Yue had blood on his body.

"I ran away with Dr. Lu... He should be fine, that guy chased me." And after a pause, Du Yue told everyone what had happened.

Du Yue and Dr. Lu had found a second ID card  in the basement of an uninhabited house that could open the door to the corridor. They had also met Lara and asked her about Qi Leren. They had honestly said they didn't know, but they were looking for him. When they went to the basement in Jing Siyu’s house, they opened the door again and met Qi Leren inside. Qi Leren had turned back to cut off the institute’s power supply. As a result, shortly after the power supply was cut off, Francis actually entered the basement, holding a dagger in his hand.

"I... um... used some special means and ran away." Du Yue scratched his head, and Qi Leren knew as soon as he heard it that he had used the [Protagonist Halo] skill card.

But this was the first time he had heard of a “protagonist” using his full power to escape. Shouldn’t he have used it to kill him? This boy hadn’t followed the routine!

Qi Leren was a little worried about Dr. Lu, but on second thought, he felt that with his luck, he shouldn’t have any troubles—look, the monster had come after Du Yue at the critical moment. At most, he had probably fallen on the ground and screamed, and by now he might have found a safe place to hide. Qi Leren had great confidence in Dr. Lu’s ability to win by lying down.

"Don't panic, since Francis is using a dagger, we’ll have no problem at all, even if... Quiet, I hear something!" Qi Leren heard footsteps again, and he held his breath, listening to the footsteps getting closer and closer. Then they suddenly disappeared, as if the owner of the footsteps had already known of their existence.

The distance between them was very close, just around the corner.

The darkness before his eyes, the coldness of the air, and the heartbeats of him and those around him made him feel as if he was deep underwater.

Qi Leren could bear it, but the two little girls couldn't. Jing Sixue held her sister's hand tightly and pulled her back. The cloth rubbed in the dark, making a shuffling noise. This slight movement was just like a flame in the silence of night, which made the stagnant air burst out in an instant!

Dadadada! Suddenly there was the sound of a machine gun firing on the opposite side, and Qi Leren shouted: "Get down!"

The bullets ricocheted off the fall, brushing Qi Leren's cheek.

Fuck me, how has the enemy’s weapon already upgraded from a dagger to a machine gun!

No, you can't fight here, or the six people next to you will be in danger!

Qi Leren paid attention to the last time he had used his S/L skill. The cooling time of one hour had passed, so he could use it. This time, he again forgot the Prophet's warning. After saving, he got up and rushed around the corner. In the dark, the only light was that of the machine gun’s shots, and it lit up the world frame by frame. His body slid along the ground like a fish and he swept his leg out to knock Francis down.

Francis roared. The machine gun was too long to hit the Qi Leren who had gotten close to him. He discarded the machine gun and gripped Qi Leren's arms. His strength made him think that his bones would be broken.

After being parasitized by the octopus, Francis's body had mutated to be more like a strong man. Qi Leren, who had not fought closely with the octopuses before, suffered a dark loss at this point, and he easily fell to the ground. The revolver in his hand also flew out and hit the wall, clattering away to somewhere he couldn’t see.

Qi Leren couldn’t come up for air and almost fainted. Amidst his confusion, there was a loud thundering in his ears and something slammed against Francis's head. With the women’s screams, the strength holding Qi Leren became lessened, and Qi Leren broke free, rolled over, and coughed heavily on the ground.

Qi Leren endured the dizziness and nausea and looked up. An axe was stuck on the back of Francis's head. Du Yue pried Lara’s hands off the fire axe. Lara covered her mouth and collapsed against the wall, sniffling and repeating Francis's name.

"Qianbei, are you ok? I'll help you up." Du Yue kicked the flashlight he had just left behind and helped Qi Leren.

"He’s not dead, cough... the octopus in his body will come out soon..." Qi Leren knew the octopuses’ habits and warned hoarsely. He picked up his handgun from the ground and pointed it at Francis's brain. Every shot was accompanied by the sound of Lara’s exhausted crying.

Qi Leren was panting heavily. His throat had almost been crushed and there was still some damage, so that he couldn't speak loudly, but he still amplified his voice as much as possible: "Stand back! Run! The monster inside him is coming out!"

As if it had been called, as soon as Qi Leren finished speaking, Francis’s brain had been blown off, and Francis, whose body had fallen to the ground and was bleeding, suddenly moved.

Janet also collapsed. When she saw the first tentacle sticking out of Francis's broken head, the woman screamed in a soprano voice: "He's alive, he's still alive! Monster, monster!"

-----

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[hetalia-reacts]

Hi, i hope your day/evening is going well! I was wondering if i could request France,England,America,Germany, and Prussia with a sick s/o, please and thank you?

Sure thing :))

France

Francis is so concerned for you

Most likely to take off work so he can take care of you

Yes, even if it’s just a small cold

He just doesn’t feel comfortable leaving you all alone while you don’t feel good

Francis is going to pamper you while you’re sick, no if’s, and’s, or but’s

He’s cooking for you, cleaning, giving you your medication

Will help you do anything and everything

If you get worse, or your sickness was bad to start with he’s going to suggest taking you to the hospital

Even if you don’t like it he’ll strongly suggest it

If you don’t want to go that’s fine, but if your temperature gets any worse he’s taking you whether you like it or not

Apologizes the whole time you’re sick, whether it’s because he’s making you do something you don’t want to or just because he feels bad for you he’s going to constantly say he’s sorry and coddle you

He’ll admit these are some of his favorite times though, especially if you aren’t one to rely on others

Francis just likes that you can and do depend on him in these moments, but he still wants you back to your old self ASAP

England

Arthur feels bad for you

He gets sick pretty regularly as well so he knows how much getting ill sucks

Will definitely take care of you

He’s going to take off work or at least go in late if you insist that he goes

Feels bad leaving you home alone, especially if you were too sick to get up by yourself

Arthur wants to pamper you while you’re sick, but he’s kind of crap at it

Like he’ll cook for you but it doesn’t turn out good and he can’t even bring himself to bring it in for you to see

Will get you some nice take out food from a good restaurant though

Stays by your side essentially the entire time

Reads to you if want a distraction or something to fall asleep to

He loves you dearly, but if you’re being stubborn about taking medicine he’s not going to stay overly nice for long

He knows you’re sick and not acting like yourself, but it’s happening, you’re taking the medicine

If your sickness is bad or steadily getting worse he’s immediately taking you to the hospital even if you beg him not to

He just can’t bear to watch you suffer through this

Not a fan of your sick moments, as much as he likes being depended on Arthur just can’t stand to watch you suffer for those little wishes

America

Alfred has no idea what to do for you

He’s going to try obviously, but it doesn’t go very far before someone is calling it quits

Probably you after having a fifth burger placed on your body after you told him to stop

He just doesn’t understand getting sick, it rarely if ever happens to him and he’s not around sick people enough to know how to help them

So you might have to play backseat driver and tell him what to do

Alfred will do anything you say without question

Even if he’s 100% sure spinning in circles while doing something silly won’t cure your sickness

He’s just happy to do anything for you if it means you won’t be in pain

Will cook for you

He makes a mean chicken noodle soup so you’re in good hands for that

Likely spends the whole day cooped up with you so you don’t get bored

Will cuddle you too if that’s what you want

If your fever is getting worse or gets to a point you can’t clearly say something or hold a thought for long he’s taking you to the ER

He’s not going to sit around and google how to take care of a sick person, he’s just gonna bite the bullet and let the professionals handle it from here on out

Alfred on one hand is happy that you trust him enough to let him take care of you, but on the other, he wishes you just admitted that he couldn’t so you could’ve gotten proper help earlier

Germany

Ludwig isn’t that concerned at first

I mean obviously, he wants you to feel better and doesn’t want you to suffer

But if it’s just a common cold or something small like allergies he’s going to give you some medication, ask if you need anything, and then head out to work

Don’t let his curt behavior fool you

He’s at work stopping himself from calling every 30 minutes to make sure you’re okay

Already has plans to cook something nutritious when he gets home

Ludwig is also going to tell his boss he’s heading home early after only a few hours of working

Once he’s back home he’s making sure you’re sleeping and taking your medicine properly

Cooking food and snacks that will be easy on you

Probably won’t cuddle or kiss you while you’re sick but thinks your attempts to get one are absolutely adorable

If your fever is getting worse or isn’t breaking he’s going to suggest the hospital

If you say no, he’ll agree but warns you if it doesn't get better he’s going to take you

If you say yes, he’s packing a small bag and carrying you to the car in no time

Ludwig finds absolutely 0 joy in you being sick, not only was he stressed and worried the whole day you were also suffering the whole time and he’s really against having you feeling like that for any reason

Prussia

Gilbert is uncharacteristically worried for you

I’m talking like the whole ‘awesome’ persona slips away to a really soft and worried one

He’s taking off work immediately to take care of you

Even if you say it’s just a cold he can’t shake the feeling that maybe it might not be

He spends the whole day with you talking nice and soft the whole time

His awesome personality comes back sometime later after he’s not so stressed about you being sick

Cooks for you, anything you want, just as long as you eat and drink something he doesn’t care

Follows the directions on the medicine box to the T

He’s in every 3-4 hours like clockwork with the little shot of medicine or some pills

Cuddles you all day and is not afraid of your germy kisses

Gilbert will get really scared if your sickness gets worse or doesn’t change after a day or two

He likely won’t even ask or argue with you about going to the hospital, he’ll just take you when he thinks the time is right

Gilbert dislikes you being sick the most

it honestly scares him when you’re ill and he can’t help but think the worst will happen to you

[glare-a13]

so i finished the jeanlisa playlist! not many songs on there, but here it is :) it’s around half an hour in total, so not too bad. i figured i’d do a post explaining why i chose the songs and the (sort of) story i imagine behind it. explanations will be under the cut!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/20XrumZtYBRtvWDBRfFaBf?si=2ny92pKySM6bD3KB_G4oig&dl_branch=1

talk about death/grief below the cut

the dandelion stands alone. the roses that once stood beside it have wilted, their lavender hue faded and their petals dried.

the overall story i had in mind for this playlist was jean dealing with the death of lisa due to her curse. it’ll be of course, from jean’s perspective but i think i have one or two that i imagined as lisa speaking. if you guys have other interpretations or think another order could be better, comment below or send it in my ask box! i’m super excited to hear what y’all think :))

die alone -ingrid michaelson

we open up with jean and her perspective on love

i’ve always thought that die alone could work for so many characters, like maki harukawa from danganronpa especially,

but i figured it could be a good one to open up this playlist with

just to show how lisa sorta

crashed her way into her life and made her realize that she isn’t just fated for some

noble.. knight… life.. yes ..?????

besties idk how to explain it but i hope w listening to the lyrics you get the gist <3

pink in the night -mitski

and here’s our first one from lisa’s perspective!

hah

what if i told you i think of it as lisa feeling alone/isolated in her final days

because

because she hadn’t told jean about the curse from the book

and she doesn’t want her darling to worry about her

she believes jean already has enough on her plate… that poor woman… she loved her so much she couldn’t bear to break the news to her

so she allows jean to continue working, without having to worry about her

hah

hm.

where’d all the time go -dr. dog

THE CHORUS

“she gets dressed up like a pillow, so she’s always iN BED / FLOWERS FOR THE SICK AND DEAD / SHE’S ON THE GO / WAY TOO FAST AND WAY TOO SLOW”

i just think. this tragic song fits lisa’s situation with the book.

i imagine this as lisa actually dying from the curse

whereas the last song is more of lisa thinking about her regrets and wanting jean to not worry about her

yet longing to spend time with her in her final days

i actually put this at the end of the playlist at first, but moved it when i thought of the point above

but “she’s on the go, way too fast and way too slow” just HURTS because i imagine jean saying it like

she doesn’t want lisa to die, but she also can’t handle watching her suffer

telephones -vacations

“i wish i could live without you / but you’re a part of me”

:))

yeah i don’t think this one needs much of an explanation

jean thinks about all the time she could’ve spent with lisa, remembering back to her fondest memories with her

regretting that she couldn’t have made more memories

hehe

rises the moon -liana flores

this one i imagine as lisa watching over jean in the afterlife

speaking reassurances and wanting to comfort her even with no way of contact

trying, urging her to move on so she can do her best to protect mondstadt, the city she loves, like she’s always wanted

she knows it’s hard to lose a loved one

the days go on… she cannot let this pull her too far from her routine

I ALSO THINK THIS CAN BE IMAGINED AS LISA VISITING JEAN THROUGH A DREAM

like the first point on this song but she speaks to jean through a dream

to reassure her that she’ll always be by her side

man i love this song sm it’s so comforting…

francis forever -mitski

now for the sake of this playlist, i’m taking some of the lyrics of this song very literally

like even the first verse…

i mean the first two lines already hit hard

lisa provided jean w something wonderful, making sure she took care of herself and keeping her company even when she overworked herself hunched over papers in the grandmaster’s office

oH! if you wanna think abt it more, i suggest going to genius lyrics and looking at the annotations made by people there, it’s a wonderful way to look at lyrics from others’ perspectives

and DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE SECOND VERSE

“on sunny days i go out walking / i end up on a tree lined street / i look up at the gaps of sunlight / i miss you more than anything”

A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A

AND

I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE THIS, BUT RISES THE MOON HAS A LINE THAT SAYS

“oh close your weary eyes / i promise you that soon the autumn comes / to darken fading summer skies”

AND FRANCIS FOREVER

THE SECOND CHORUS

“and autumn comes when you’re not yet done / with the summer passing by”

AA A A A A A A A A A AA AA A

feel better -penelope scott

i mostly did this one for the first verse

like,, “no one’s ever gonna love me like that again”

ouch

“i don’t wanna get over you / i wanna sit with you in bed”

i also think of this as the… the bitterness jean feels

what once was -her’s

another one that i feel,, doesn’t really need explanation

the first verse already smacks you in the face

“i guess i knew this would happen to you / inside i did but i refused to know the truth”

she just didn’t expect lisa would go so soon, you know?

they had barely gotten to spend time together

but time is cruel, crueler to some more than others

it’s unfortunate lisa was a part of that.

i didn’t know -skinshape

i actually made an entire post abt this!

check the posts under the jeanlisa tag on my profile, it should have the song linked and i have a whole explanation about it and why i think it fits them

do better -cuco

i just thought this was a nice way to end things

perhaps set in the future, when jean has started to accept lisa’s death and is coming to terms with her being gone

knowing that even though she’s gone from the mortal realm, the love they shared will always follow her.

and that’s all! hope this all made some sort of sense; i won’t really be proofreading it or anything since it’s just bullet points mostly. but yeah, this playlist was super fun to make, even through the tears- if you think i should make more, i think i should be having either a regular, non angsty jeanlisa one or a ganyu one on the way, so woOHOO !!