#WE WORKIN with.... what we workin wit....

[sk3tch404]

I've been reading a lot of Chrollo fics yall... Do not send help.

Character too dynamic, must initiate brainrot immediately 🤖

[141trash]

Breaking Point pt 2

Read part one here

AN: Thank you so much for all the love on the first part! I had such a hard time writing this, mostly because I don't really know how to write scenes like this... So after multiple failed attempts I sort of copped out on the violence? I'm workin hard on part 3 pls let me know how you liked part 2

The first punch went straight into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. You let out a fearful squeak, squeezing your eyes shut and turning your head away.

"No, no." the man scolded mockingly, "Don't look away princess. Don't want you missing the show."

A hand grasped your hair roughly, pulling your head back sharply to an upright position and earning a startled yelp. He smirked, settling on the chair one of the other guards had brought in for him and forced you to sit at his feet, directly in front of Simon.

"Oi. Leave 'er alone. Your problem is with me yeah?" Simon lurched forward, but was yanked back by the guards and forced to his knees.

The grip on your hair tightened, causing you to whimper.

"Correct. My problem is with you." He leaned his face down next to yours, using his free hand to caress your cheek, "But this is a learning experience and we have to explore every angle."

You glowered at him, wrenching your jaw from his grip and in a brief moment of foolish bravery, spat in his face. Rage fluttered over his face, splotchy patches of red coloring his cheeks and neck.

"You would do well to watch yourself." he told you stiffly, "I might break my own rules, just to watch you suffer."

"You're a fucking freak!" you shouted back, "I don't know who you are! I don't know what you want. Just let me go."

Simon watched you thrash, trying desperately to get free. A flutter of protectiveness washed over him seeing the heavy set man looming over you. Even if you were working with them, which he was beginning to think you weren't, this sort of treatment wasn't something anyone deserved.

By the time they finally left, you'd screamed and cried yourself hoarse. Begging and pleading for them to s top as they forced you to watch the interrogation. Well it was less of an interrogation and more turning a man into a human punching bag.

All the while, the firm grip on your hair had forced you to continue watching, pulling you back every time you turned your head away. The slimy voice of the man who was clearly the boss, speaking directly in your ear, reminding you mockingly to keep your eyes open.

They left you shivering and cowering on the floor, not daring to move towards the lieutenant until the door had swung shut and the footsteps had faded away.

"I'm sorry." You whispered when the two of you were alone. Snot and tears dried on your face from having to endure watching a man get the life beaten out of him in front of you. He was slumped clutching his middle with one arm.

"S' not your fault." He grimaced, pushing himself up to lean against the wall for support.

He was hard to look at if you were being honest. One of his eyes would likely be swollen shut in a few hours, and there was a trickle of blood where one of the guards had split the skin just below his eyebrow. It wasn't like you'd never seen violence before. But action movies, and witnessing the occasional drunken street fight were nothing like this. The horrifying unrelenting sound of fists hitting skin, coupled with the muffled grunts of pain had left you nauseous.

"I know you from somewhere?" Simon broke you out of your thoughts. He was eyeing you again, studying you for any connection you two might have.

Unfortunately as unfamiliar as you were to him, he was to you as well.

Shaking your head you replied, "I don't think so. I don't recognize you."

He snorted a laugh, " 've usually got m' face covered up."

"What? Like. Like a mask?" Your face scrunched as you tried to picture it, "What are you some sort of superhero?"

Simon scoffed at the assumption and then let out a low groan, slumping further into himself. Fuck what were you supposed to do? The last time you'd taken first aid courses it'd been as a teenager so you could apply to be a camp counselor. You doubted those skills would be useful here anyways.

"I don't," you crawled over to sit next to him gulping nervously, "I don't know what to do. Please tell me how to help you."

"Save your strength. There's nothing either of us can do right now. My team will have noticed I'm gone by now. Likely they're on their way to find me."

You didn't know why, but the words were so reassuring. Especially considering he was a literal stranger. But looking him over, even though he was beaten bloody you felt hopeful. From his large muscular frame, to the faint scars that littered his visible skin, he felt like someone with experience.

"That man. He called you Lieutenant." You began hesitantly, "You're military?"

"I am. Can call me Ghost."

"Ghost." You repeated, raising your eyebrows. He took in your unimpressed expression and glared almost playfully at you.

"Yeah, Ghost."

"Whatever you say Lieutenant."

Taglist: @teehee-47, @bleuu-moon (cant remember if you wanted to be tagged so sorry if you didnt ^^;)

[hatchetfieldtheories]

Workin' Boys: A New Theory

So, I’ve changed my mind.

A while back I wrote this theory, and while I do still think there is some truth to the theory that Hidgens began to have his apotheosis once he touched the blue goo, I think there is more to the story.

Note, the below contains one mild spoiler for NPMD.  Mild only in that I will briefly reference one character without any context added.  Feel free to skip this theory if you wish, or come back to it post 13th October to see how much I got wrong!!

Great Scott! It’s a Workin Boys theory!

The world will be blessed with Workin Boys next week, and I know not everyone will get to watch it, but it’s safe to say there will be things we learn from the show that will either answer some of our never ending questions, or give us more to puzzle over.  The latter being the one I’m expecting if I’m honest, afterall, this is Hatchetfield.  

And to be honest, we’ve not been given much to work on.  The trailer and synopsis are both pretty short, we’ve had a sprinkling of facts and figures over the last couple of years, and a few Hidgens cameos, so this isn’t really a theory of what I think will be the storyline, but rather an attempt to predict some of the themes and potential lore implications that might arise.

Also for reference, a good portion of the info used in this theory has come from these two wonderful compendiums of Hatchetfield knowledge:

@gone-to-oregone's wonderful Everything is Connected doc

@abiimaryy's amazing Hatchetfield Lore Doc

The Stage is Set

Professor Henry Hidgens and Doctor Emmett Brown have a lot in common.  They’re eccentric, they’re clever, and they both had a vision of something world changing due to an accident they had 30 years ago.

For Henry, this doesn’t result in any fun 50s hijinks, but rather he gets struck by lightning in 1988 and predicts the world ending by musical apotheosis. Super specific, honestly.  But what is important is that date.

Hidgens didn’t predict the events of TGWDLM after 2005, but rather before. If this had happened to him after 2005 we could easily put the lightning strike down to an event unique to the TGWDLM timeline only.  However, his accident happened way before 2005, way before the timelines split.  So just as Ted must be the Homeless Guy in every single Hatchetfield timeline, Hidgens must also be expecting a musical apocalypse in every timeline.

This must also include Working Boys, whatever timeline that ends up being in.  In Workin Boys, Hidgens would be under the impression that at some point soon, a musical apocalypse is about to happen.  So what does that have to do with said musical-within-a-musical?

Here come the LiB

It’s pretty safe to say Pokey is heavily influencing whatever happens in Workin Boys.  First of all, its a musical so it was going to be a safe bet.  But judging by the trailer, we’ve got multiple references to our fave goo gremlin. The blue light shining on Henry, multiple voices calling him in a Singular Voice, and Joey’s jumpscare where he looks like Pokey incarnate.

Who Joey is in that small clip is anyone’s guess.  I’ve seen a few theories floating about, including Chad, Mathias Waylon, and Pokey himself.  Honestly, I’m not sure, but what is important is how he looks.  Whoever this fella is, he’s got a blue hue, a cracked face, and ooze dripping down his chin.  If he’s not Pokey, he’s someone who has been Pokey-fied.

And this link was always going to make sense.  Workin Boys has had its biggest show stopping moment in Pokey’s timeline.  

But what if Workin Boys was created, because and for Pokey.

In TGWDLM, we get a whole scene of our cast of characters witnessing the meteor coming through the clouds.  Our cast of characters are busy going about their evening, finishing work, wondering what is coming through the clouds.  Notably, Paul is on his way home, from his work, in the business world.  Paul doesn’t strike me as someone who stays late at work, so it’s safe to say that the meteor hit the Earth’s atmosphere around.. 5 O’clock?

This is Pokey’s Workin Boys now

Let’s go back to that incident with the lightning strike.  Henry was hit by lightning and predicted the apocalypse.  I’ve referenced in a few theories (1 & 2) that I think lightning is more than just the LiB’s motif.  It’s the strike of inspiration, of interference, of the Lords in Black in the real world.  The Black Book contains references to lightning, we see a crack of lightning across each Hatchetfield show title, when the meteor crashes at the Starlight lightning is flashing through the sky.

Something to shock em, to bring them a crawling, a big time box office draw

When Henry was hit by lightning, he didn’t just see the potential musical end times. But he was also given Workin Boys - or at least, he was given his inspiration.  Workin Boys was always written for Pokey. It’s Hidgen’s story, yes, but the musical itself is for our blue boy.  It was a pre-destined self-destruction.

The musical Hidgens writes tells us the 5 O’Clock can’t come soon enough because in one timeline, that is when the meteor will strike.  This is why he is trying so hard to fund the show in every timeline, because in one timeline he needs to put it on stage for whatever Pokey has planned.  Whatever Pokey requires half of Hatchetfield to be in attendance for.

Prof. H and Miss H?

I’ll be honest, and apologies in advance.  I don’t think Miss Holloway is alive in the Workin Boys timeline.

We were told following NMT2’s release (via Jim Povolo’s watch series) that the Black Book we see in Killer Track was created for Workin Boys, which means providing things haven’t changed we should see the book.  If that’s the case, then Miss H doesn’t have it.  It’s possible that Hidgens somehow gets hold of the book, and when the show of his dreams doesn’t look to be going the way he expected - he does what Thrash told everyone he did - he sold his soul to the devil.  Or, well, to the Black and White.

As to when he gets the Black Book - who knows - but all I’ll say is it’s very interesting that Miss H is our 80s queen, and Hidgen’s divine inspiration also occurred in the 80s.

Encore

Well, that’s the main theory.  But we’ve got time for one last little theory that’s very loosely based on nothing.

Workin Boys: A New Musical, is based on Hidgens’ friends from college - old college chums in a beat up old house. Specifically - six of them - not including Henry.  I’ve seen a few theories regarding the six workin boys being a stand in for the LiB and Webby.  Is this a stretch? Maybe.  But it also kind of fits.  From odd instances in livestreams and tweets, it’s clear that Henry was not throwing that old pigskin around (specifically in one of Nick’s tweets that there are 7 workin boys, but 6 on the field).  Henry isn’t a part of that group.  Not fully.  So if we do get to meet any of the irl workin boys, I don’t think their dynamic is going to be quite how Hidgen’s pictures it.

Well, if you made it this far please help yourself to some interval ice cream and a show programme. And remember - there’s no exits from this broadway venue.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Mind the Gap, Chapter 1

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Matt Murdock & Reader (Platonic)

Rating: E

Word count (per chapter): ~500 (Just to set the story up, future chapters will be longer!)

Story Summary: When Michael gets sent across the pond to fix an issue with the Kinsella clan's drug trade expansion into New York City, he never expected to meet and fall for a pretty law clerk from the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. But when she gets abducted by a rival cartel, Michael will have to enlist the help of the very vigilante that's trying to take down his entire operation.

Warnings/Tags: Kin/Daredevil crossover, Canon-typical violence (for both shows), Platonic Matt Murdock/Reader, Smut in later chapters, More tags to come

A/N: After announcing this MONTHS ago, it's finally here -- the Daredevil/Kin crossover no one asked for, but I decided to write anyway. Lol

Note that this is a Michael Kinsella x Reader fic -- there is no love triangle between Mikey, Reader, and Matt.

If you want to be added to the taglist for this or any of my other ongoing stories, or if I was supposed to tag you/tagged you in error, please let me know!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @shouldbestudying41 @finnishjerseygirl @ednaaa-04 @ebathory997 @beezusvreeland @capylore

Fuckin' hell, let's get this over with, Michael Kinsella thought to himself as he trudged up the driveway to his sister-in-law’s house.

He had just gotten word that the Garda had wrapped up their investigation into his father's and uncle’s deaths and had ruled the case a murder-suicide -- therefore clearing him from further questioning -- when Amanda had texted that she was calling a meeting.

Amanda opened the door before he had even reached it. “Hey,” she said.

Michael walked in. “Hi.”

Amanda closed the door behind him. “Hadn't seen ya in a while.”

Aye, and there's a fuckin' reason for tha’, Michael thought.

As Amanda had started taking over more and more territory and doing whatever she had to in order to stay on top, Michael had realized that it hadn't ever been him that she had wanted, it had been the Kinsella name and the power and prestige that had come with it. 

While he hadn't ever regretted having Jamie, he had regretted sleeping with Amanda when she had come on to him while Jimmy had been in prison all those years ago and again more recently when her marriage had been falling apart and Michael had been dealing with finding out about Molly being engaged.

He shrugged. “Been busy.”

“Wan’ a drink?”

Michael shook his head. What he wanted was to go back home.

Amanda pursed her lips, but before she could say anything else, Birdy arrived.

“So what's ya call a meetin’ for?” Michael asked once they had all sat down at Amanda's kitchen table.

Amanda folded her hands together in front of her and leaned forward. “I called ya over because we're takin’ over some operations in America and I need ya ta go oversee tha transfer. There's been some issues.”

Michael was taken aback. “Me? Why me?”

“Because we're all busy -- I’m tryin’ ta clean up tha mess Bren left while also dealin’ wit' Jimmy's shite, Viking is workin' on getting tha houses reopened, and Birdy's still dealin’ with Frank's estate. Yer’ that only one left who we can trust ta take care a’ things.”

“Plus I think it'll be good for ya to get away for a while ‘till things settle down again,” Birdy added. 

Michael shook his head. “Are ya forgettin’ tha’ I'm a convicted felon? They won' even let me on a plane, much less inta another country.”

“Tha's already taken care of.” Birdy picked up a manilla envelope off of the table and handed it to him. “Everything is in here.”

Michael opened it to find an ID and passport.

He looked at the ID. “Michael O’Brien?”

Amanda shrugged. “Best we could do on short notice. ‘Least ya get ta go by yer first name.”

Birdy cut her eyes over to Amanda briefly before turning back towards Michael. “Flight’s already booked. Ya leave on Thursday.”

Michael sighed, resigned. “Where exactly am I goin?”

A satisfied look spread across Amanda's face as she leaned back. “New York City.”

[raynnawrites]

Slight Changes

Synopsis: When your husband starts to act different and hide his body, naturally, you worry.

You and Erik’s shared Los Angeles home was your temple. The home you dreamt of constantly, a place where you could express your love and appreciate each other with no one to criticize or ruin your love for each other.

The home you paid off as soon as you could, the home that had been witness to your individual growth, as well as your marriage. You and Erik had been together for almost 10 years, having known each other since high school. You knew each other almost perfectly. Key word… Almost.

Your beloved home would bear witness once more to one more phase.

For the past month, your husband had become a stranger. Hiding himself from you. Erik had shown some signs about being self conscious about his body. What could have possibly given it away? His constant urge to hide his stomach behind cushions, wearing oversized clothing, barely letting you see him shirtless or in shorts, not using the pool he insisted on building.

The man had always been proud of his body, loving himself and taking care of it. He had always loved his body. He would always be shirtless or wearing wife beaters, even walking around in only boxers. Erik would sleep shirtless, eat shirtless, almost walk around naked around your home. This was completely new to you. He would barely let you touch him.

Hugs would be short, kisses were now quick pecks and hand holding had almost come to a halt. Naturally, as his wife, you worried. What could he possibly be hiding? Was something wrong? Was he in pain? Did he need something specific? Were you even right about him being self conscious about his body? Maybe this could be a new phase for him?

All of these questions, and whenever you tried to ask, as gently as you could, he would quickly shut everything down.

“Girl, no. It’s just… I don’t feel like bein’ shirtless.”

Erik would always say. And you, wanting to respect his body and wishes, stopped everything and changed the subject entirely. But a new observation had been made by you that had triggered your worry once more.

He would barely eat. His food portions were too small, his water intake was too high, his exercises too long and brutal for him. Every time he finished at the built-in gym and returned to your master bathroom, you saw how red his face was, how sweaty and exhausted he would be.

He would overwork himself.

Erik had always been athletic and had an absurdly high stamina. But he would never get this close to almost passing out. You wanted to figure out what could be wrong with your husband. You walked into the living room and saw him as he sat now.

Man spreading with a cushion over his stomach and on his phone. Wearing an oversized shirt and baggy jeans.

“Erik, baby… we need to talk.” You began softly, walking over to the sofa and sitting at a small distance. Far enough where he felt comfortable, but close enough to still be able to properly look at him. “What?” He asked you, seeing you take a deep breath and exhale. Trying your best to not seem angry or upset, you gathered your thoughts.

“Okay, Erik,” you began, “I’m worried about you.”

Your husband scoffed and offered a small smile, “why?”, he questioned.

“You’ve been distant. We barely hold hands, you don’t hug me anymore and you don’t kiss me. Whenever I wanna love you, you push me away and I would really like to know why.” You replied, seeing his eyes soften up.

“Another thing, more important than this.”

Erik’s eyes locked on yours, paying close attention.

“I’ve noticed that in the past few weeks you’ve been overwhelming yourself. With workouts, you aren’t eatin’ right, you come back from the gym exhausted and dizzy, about to pass out… I wanna know what’s goin’ on. I wanna help you. Let me help you.” You continued as Erik sighed and stood, having you follow him into your bedroom.

“Nothing’s wrong, Y/N. I’m fine. I’m just workin’ out, as usual.” Erik replied as he went to the edge of your bed.

You scoffed. “No, not as usual. Erik, you’re wearing oversized clothes, you don’t walk around shirtless, you barely touch me when we sleep and you’re always covering your stomach.” You pointed out as Erik’s face hardened. Shame and embarrassment became evident over his features.

“Erik, is something wrong? Did someone do something to you? Are you goin’ thru some shit that I just don’t know about?” You asked, sitting next to him and going to grab his hand, only to have him snatch it away from you.

Erik stayed quiet. But you noticed tears welling up. His lip quivered as he took deep, frustrated breaths.

“If I tell you, you gon’ be disgusted with me. You gon’ make fun of me.” He told you, standing and wiping away his tears, rubbing his eyes. Standing and following him, you kept your distance.

Your face contorted into confusion, surprise and even more worry. What could he possibly have to say or show?

“Erik, you know me. We’ve been married for almost 4 years, do you really think I would be that big of a bitch to make fun of you? Yeah I tease, but that’s it. Just like you tease me.” You asked him, seeing him turn to face you, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He quietly and softly took his shirt off. Instead of his “usual” body, he revealed a softer one, less muscular and toned.

His abs were replaced with a small amount of soft plump, his chest wasn’t flat, now rounder and not as chiseled, his v-line was gone and his arms were thicker, as well as his legs. His thighs were meatier. Erik dropped his head in shame and went to cover himself as you quickly grabbed his hand.

“Erik, what am I supposed to see here?” You asked him, seeing his eyes lock with yours.

“What do you mean?!” He barked, throwing his clothes across the room. You jumped at the sudden outburst.

“Look at me, Y/N! I’m fat! I’m fucking disgustin’, I look like a fucking pig!” Erik cried, wiping his cheeks roughly.

“I don’t know how the fuck this shit happened, I’ve been tryna lose the weight and I can’t! This shit just won’t go away! I can’t run without feelin’ some jiggle, I can’t even walk up the stairs without getting outta breath! I hate it! Every time I look in the mirror I see the piece of shit I turned into!” Erik continued to cry.

“I don’t know why this happened. I tried to lose weight normally, but it wouldn’t work! I’ve had to stop eatin’ and started drinkin’ a fuck ton of water because nothing works! Every damn day I go downstairs and sit on the sofa, just to look at any remedy to lose weight! This shit’s never happened to me before. Never!”

Erik kept crying in shame until he dropped to his knees. It broke your heart to see such a strong man crumble before you. Softly and slowly walking to your husband, you knelt down in front of him.

“Erik, look at me… please.” You cooed softly, cupping his face, which you noticed was the slightest bit rounder.

“You are in no way disgusting or ugly. You are not a pig! This can happen to anyone! You are human and we change all the damn time. But starvin’ yourself and almost killing yourself just so you can be skinny again ain’t it!” You told him, gently wiping away his tears.

“Listen to me Erik. If you really want to, we can get professional help. A dietitian to help us with your weight loss or even a personal trainer. There is no shame in that, whatsoever. Or you can stay like this.” You continued, seeing him calming down.

“I will always love you no matter what. You’re my husband I’mma be by your side no matter what. Unless it’s harmin’ yourself! Baby, let’s get some help. A good dietitian, a good workout plan and slowly makin’ progress.”

Erik seemed to calm down completely and held your hands. He removed them from his face to give you sad and frustrated eyes.

“I miss my body, Y/N. I know there ain’t nothin’ wrong with extra pounds but I miss my body… it’s like… I don’t recognize me anymore…” he told you, standing up. You stood along with him and stayed close.

“Then if you’re up for it, I’mma book us an appointment with a dietitian- a good dietitian and get help. But you didn’t need to hide yourself from me like that. As for the world, fuck them.”

Erik sighed and hung his head in shame.

“I just thought you wouldn’t want me. I’ve always had abs and shit. Suddenly having my body change made me think you would change too.” He explained.

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around your husband in a much needed embrace. You felt his arms wrap around you and squeeze. You squeezed just as hard, or tried to, having missed physical affection from your husband.

Erik looked down at you and placed his lips on your own, quickly deepening it. The kiss was passionate, full of love and affection. Arms wrapped around each other and not a care in the world.

Parting the kiss, you looked into his softened eyes and smiled.

“You know, I kinda like you like this too. Before you were all hard and stiff, now you’re all soft and plump… this shit’s amazing!” You laughed, getting to touch all of his body.

Your hands traveled to his chest and stomach, softly rubbing the new extra skin and went back up to his face. You noticed his cheeks rounded up too. Your bright smile never ceased.

“I really do like this new body of yours. I got a new seat for whenever I sit and ride that sexy ass face.”

Erik burst into laughter. Hearing his laugh after his sobs and rough past month was refreshing and much needed. You missed his laugh.

“Shit, girl. But for real… let’s go look for help. But yo’ ass is gon’ be at every damn appointment. Don’t you dare leave me alone.” He told you, kissing your forehead.

Smiling, you nodded and hugged your man again, “obviously. In and out of the office. I don’t want bitches with skinny men wanting to touch you. This body mine.”

Erik smirked. “Shit, Y/N… I can’t walk up a flight of stairs but I can still fuck yo’ lil’ ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

“Really? Let’s see if it’s true,” you smirked, kissing him as deeply as you could. Your hands traveled his whole back and slowly made their way over to his ass. You gasped and stopped the kiss.

“Boy, turn around.”

“What? Why?” He asked you, thinking the worst. Thinking you changed your mind.

“You got more ass than me! What the fuck? Look at all this ass! Erik, holy shit!” You laughed, smacking and touching his cheeks.

Erik could only blush and laugh.

“Damn, I’mma miss this body. I know I said I love you no matter what, but I’mma miss this jiggle!” You smiled as you touched all of him.

Your husband only grabbed your hands and pulled you towards him. He kissed you once more and held you close to him.

“Thanks, Y/N… I think I might not lose the weight after all… I mean, yeah I gotta get new clothes and shit but… it ain’t that bad if it gets you to touch me like that.” He told you, watching your smile grow.

“I stand by you. There’s a really good boutique on Instagram where I can order clothes for you! I just gotta figure out your size.” You replied, feeling another kiss be pressed on your cheek.

“Thank you, babygirl. Thank you for lovin’ me.” He almost whispered as you kept rubbing him down. “Of course. I’ll always love you. Especially when I’mma sleep even better. Ya’ chest is my new pillow.”

“I might have to lose weight then.” Erik said as you gasped and looked at him in disbelief and anger.

He laughed, “I’m just playin’. I’mma have to learn how to love myself like this now. But you gon’ be with me every step right?”

Nodding, you picked up the thrown clothes, got under the covers of your bed and had Erik’s arm wrapped around you while you searched for the boutique. Now, while having him give his opinions on his new clothes, you could only admire your husband.

Taglist:

@chaneajoyyy

@amorestevens

@cecereads209

@readinginsilence100

@raysunshine78

@woahitslucyylu

@idont-know-shit

@kkrown

@msreshel

@ladymac82

@luvwitoutlimit1

@jessiebean00

@richonne4life

@xsweetdellzx

@btitannaaa

@koriireads

@bugngiz

@harleycativy

@soufcakmistress

@dynastylnoire

@ladymac82

-

A/N: Feel free to let me know what you think! I might be writing some more “slice of life” kinda one-shots.

[crxssjae]

WIP Wednesday

thank you @harmshake for the tag!

Took me longer than expected, but the second scene of "Something About You" chapter one has been finished editing... now writing for the third scene and had to rewatch the match (Sami and The Usos vs Corey and The Ascension). Damn, this might be the toughest to write. I'm doing my best.

For now, it's just The Usos fussing. I'm trying not to spoil.

Warning(s): language. If y'all see some errors, no you didn't 🤫

__________

Jimmy managed to wipe the white mark off Jey's nose with a thumb. He refocused on painting Jey's face while noting the conversation earlier. "Why can't you just be nice to him, uce?"

"I dunno, why did you call him 'my dawg' when we only know a lil' 'bout him?" Jey mimicked Jimmy's friendly voice, receiving a glare from his brother, but he couldn't care less.

"'Cause he's nice! What do you want me to do, be grumpy and sayin' get off my ass? You wanna be rude 'cause you couldn't get his name right."

"Nuh-uh, don't start dat comparin', I'm— I'm tryna learn how to pronounce his name."

"Sure, sure, correctin' yourself is not workin'," Jimmy mocked.

"Y'did the same wit' Pops, too, so you can't deny."

Jimmy couldn't help smacking his lips. He finished the outline, taking the green paint to color the rest. "Glad I ain't a hothead like you."

"Says someone who yelled timeout for five minutes and sayin' they cheatin' for two."

__________

tagging: @superkickme, @afterdarkprincess, and others who wanted to participate because I would accidentally tag someone who already did their wip wednesday.

[thefirstknife]

Lightfall quest is also really good. Seems to be something that will go on for a bit, I think, since the point was to get Golden Age files and we heard only one file. Osiris said there's more but that he needs time to decrypt them.

Files are Chioma Esi's logs! She is a voiced character now! Massive win for the lesbians. Osiris also directly mentions her having a wife, just in case there are people who wanted to be in denial until now.

But before that, really interesting dialogue between Nimbus and Osiris towards the end of the quest. I'll transcribe it and add a link to the video later when it gets uploaded by Destiny Lore Vault:

Nimbus: You know, ever since we defeated Calus, I've been wondering a lot more about the Veil. I think... I think we take it for granted. It's always been here. We always assumed that the Ishtar Collective brought it with them on the Exodus ship, but... Osiris: But now you question that assumption. Nimbus: Nezarec seemed to know something, didn't he? When we were inside the Vex network, he said something about... Savathun. Osiris: My memories cast shadows of Savathun's. Echoes of the time she and I were bound by her dark magic. The more time we spend here, the clearer the outline of those shadows become. The Ishtar Collective didn't bring the Veil here, Nimbus. Savathun stole it from the Witness and left it here... quite possibly for the Ishtar Collective to find. Nimbus: Why? Why would she do that? Isn't she our enemy? Osiris: She is. And yet, at times, she is our ally... when it is convenient to her, and in that convenience, we find common ground. Or as a friend once said, the line between Light and Dark... is very thin. Nimbus: [grunts] I kinda hate that. Osiris: As do I.

That's really good information and an interesting angle to understand the Veil situation better. First, Neomuni clearly don't even know how the Veil got there. They either assumed (as Nimbus said) that it was brought by the founders or perhaps the founders told everyone they did so, to keep the situation in control. It's easier to build a civilisation on this power if you tell people you brought that power here, rather than telling them that an alien entity placed it there during the time when alien entities were destroying the solar system.

But outside of that, ever since that time, people took it for granted, as Nimbus put it. They didn't really question it or wonder about it. The Veil is there, it's powering Neomuna, it was brought by the founders to make the civilisation, that's it. There's nothing really to wonder about for the average citizen. Not to say that they don't care about it, but they don't view it as something that has to be explained or pondered. As I've said before, the Veil to the Neomuni is a power source. They're not into it because of strange paracausal powers or whatever the hell is going on with it and the Witness. It's nice to see that reading was the intended one; to Neomuni, the Veil is a power source and one that is taken for granted aka isn't being actively researched. Meaning, they can't answer our questions about what the Veil is.

And now transcript of Chioma's first log (very VERY likely that more will be coming throughout the season, maybe on a weekly basis? They wouldn't voice her for one message is my main assurance). The log is accessed in the big room overlooking the Veil:

The log transcript (link):

Chioma Esi, personal log: incidental. Maya arrived yesterday with the Exodus Indigo. I should be relieved, but... in light of the current situation, I... I don't feel much of anything. We're presently en route from Hyperion to the terraformed surface of Neptune. I'm scared. I'm so scared! We don't even know what we've lost. Comms are dead. It's just silence everywhere. We might be all that's left. Maya was right about everything. The cult, the end... how we'll survive. [sighs] I hate this.

Some interesting points right away! Hyperion has been long established as a place where Chioma Esi was working. This is also giving us the Exodus Indigo route: Maya was on the colony ship which made a stop at Hyperion to pick up Chioma (and possibly other people). Shortly after they left Hyperion, the events of Winterbite lore happened where the colony ship was attacked by an unknown entity which left Winterbite in the hull.

Another neat point is that Chioma mentioned that a part of Neptune's surface was already terraformed. This gives us some crucial details; Exodus Indigo was going to Neptune on purpose and didn't just have to land there as an emergency escape. Going there was deliberate which also makes sense given that previously an ECHO ship crashed on Neptune. This makes it's more likely that Maya knew about the ECHO ship crash and about Soteria's possible survival and that Exodus Indigo followed that trail deliberately. The mention of surface being terraformed already also means that the colony was well underway of being established following the ECHO ship crash. Neptune was being hard-prepared to fit a colony.

This also means that Exodus Indigo was most likely a very well known mission and that Neomuna was not originally planned as something secret. They only went dark after making an assumption that they may be the only ones who survived the Collapse, which Chioma mentions in this log! Comms went silent and they had no idea what was going on; if they wanted to ensure the survival of the human species, they had to also assume that they're the only ones left and hide.

Chioma also mentions that "Maya was right about everything." She specifically mentions "the cult" which is Future War Cult, founded by Maya in the Golden Age. FWC was investigating something called the Device, a Vex-tech based machine capable of predicting the future. The cult would eventually regain access to the Device and use it well into the present day for the same purpose. Chioma also mentions "the end" as she muses about Maya being right about everything. Strange and possibly concerning. What exactly did Maya see through the Device?

This is some wild stuff, especially to me now after I've made a really long post about some curious connections between the concept of the history and mind of the universe and how it tends to be adjacent to Vex predictive technology. I mentioned Maya, Future War Cult and the Device in this post as well, trying to see if there's anything worth connecting in an analysis. Chioma alluding to the cult again the first time we've ever heard her voiced is intriguing. I'm not sure if this is something that will continue to be explored and if these connections are important, but it definitely felt like an important point to add into this fairly short voice line that specifies about Maya having been right "about everything," "the cult" and "the end."

I'm really excited to see if we'll get more and I assume we will. Osiris was very direct about us having to protect these logs and that there's a lot of them, but that he will have to decrypt them first. If we genuinely get more logs, it will be an incredible treat to hear actual voices from the Golden Age and the Collapse, of people who founded Neomuna and their first encounters with the Veil and possibly their original research into it.

[dorihey]

Today is the birthday of the late Ed Asner. Many are familiar with him as the voices of Carl Fredricksen from Up, Santa from Elf, and Hudson from Gargoyles, as well as Lou Grant from the Mary Tyler Moore Show and the aptly named, Lou Grant (series).

Back in the mid 2000's, my family and I were staying at a very large expensive house that belonged to friends of my parents as guests. They had a larger cable package than we did back at home, and they had ToonDisney. I remember seeing Gargoyles while staying there, on the "Hangin' with the Heroes" block in the evening. I remember seeing this show very vaguely as a younger kid, but I must not have been older than 6 or 7 or so given the original air dates.

I was totally enamored with these characters almost instantly. I hopped on their upscale internet, and immediately perused various Disney media sites at the time and started going down the rabbit hole with what little material the internet had back in like 2004 about the show. I learned about the cast, Greg Weisman's blog Station 8, and somehow convinced my parents to upgrade our cable so I could watch it. I even made a Neopets Fanpage about the show, and I have no idea if it's still around.

I don't have a lot of specific memories about Hudson being my favorite, or even having a particularly verbose knowledge of the show back them, but I DO remember becoming familiar and fond of Ed Asner, seeing a teaser for Up, learning he was in it, and that detail making it NECESSARY for me to watch it on release day.

I remember the evening before watching Up, and enjoying it, but I rewatched it with my mom a few days later. I am not sure what was different here, but I became OBSESSED. I joined a Pixar fan site, became a highly active member, and began absolutely marathoning this film. I also spent 5 hours one evening with a mechanical pencil, very little drawing skill, and drew this. (apologies, the picture is 14 years old and washed out)

To be clear, this was EXTREMELY out of nowhere. I had never drawn anything remotely this detailed before. So I (quite ignorantly, but still strongly) decided to change college majors and pursue art. Still workin' on that one...

Down the line, I ultimately watched Up in theaters 50 times, held movie nights for the fansite over Skype, made multiple forum signatures for myself and other members, and even got invited to Pixar, and met a lot of Pixar leadership (albeit briefly for most).

At the center of this though, Ed Asner was responsible for me gravitating to these characters. I've been pretty consistently enamored with his brand of wholesome curmudgeonry.

(I just made up that word, and I like it, so it's real now)

In any case, I've always felt a bit odd for having an attachment to an actor that hit his acting stride while being middle-aged in the 70s, 20 years before I was even alive - like I'm the only person my age that even knows this guy existed.

I had never gotten to meet Ed, but I did make an attempt shortly before he passed. It didn't work out, but his son Matt runs a charity organization called The Ed Asner Family Center that focuses on supporting individuals and families with autism and neurodivergence. I was fortunate enough to join an early screening of Dug Days before it released on Disney + thanks to a fundraiser by the center, including a Zoom Q&A with Ed. The thing I noticed during the call is that Ed was so immensely quick-witted, absolutely hilarious, and would not leave his piece unsaid. He had an astoundingly magnetic personality. It wasn't open mic, but I managed to get a question through - "What was it that got you into acting?"

Jonas Rivera, the Producer of Up was moderating the call and Ed about verbally trampled the guy by the time he was getting the last few words out, and he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

I don't have the exact words, but it boiled down to "escapism" - which was a bit shocking to me. You've got a former president of SAG, who'd been acting for longer than I have been a living person, and he was immediately compelled to tell everyone that the reason he got into showbusiness is to run from the world and its problems. It was remarkably humble.

Ed passed away exactly a week later. I couldn't eat for 2 days, I was so distraught.

I highly recommend that folks check out a lot of the acting Ed has done. He's absolutely brilliant, and one of the most fun people to watch. He was intimidatingly witty, and yet seemed like the guy who would talk to just about anyone. And then make them laugh their sides off.

I haven't shared my deep admiration for Ed too often other than with folks closest to me, but Ed Asner was a precious gem of a human being, and embodies a lot of things I think the world - particularly folks of the male persuasion - should have a bit more of.

Here's to you, Ed. Have a happy birthday up there for us, big guy. We love ya. <3

(side note, the portrait at the top, I drew to commemorate his first birthday after he passed in 2021. The picture at the bottom was drawn, but not adequately finished imo, about 2 weeks before he left us. I need to give it a proper redo someday)

[amelias-art]

hello im alive!!! mostly been workin and sleepin lately but i had to get something together for the asterian song contest bc he's my absolute favorite voicebank

made a simple pv this time too! i'll try to do these for my originals in the future so keep an eye on my yt channel i guess lol

lyrics under the cut!!

Signal the soldiers, sound the alarm We're bracing for impact at the break of dawn The guards at the gates will give it their all This kingdom of solitude shall never fall

O'er the horizon a challenger waits A thousand ships sink as they look on your face No army nor navy slips from your thrall The guards at the gates all kneel low at your call

Hold on, I must hold on As your eyes, irreverent eyes, meet mine And I

I'm weak! I fail! I'm crumbling, this is my downfall My heart in the rubble and ashes falls under your sway All my designs are forfeit! Witness my downfall What do you have to say for yourself? What do you have to say?

Closer and closer in intricate dance I slowly succumb to your sovereign trance Through custom and intrigue, deception and guile A kingdom laid waste for a glimpse of your smile

Signal the soldiers, sound the alarm The castle surrenders, its vassals disarm The throne room is empty, together we stand My crown lies before you, I'm at your command

No more, it matters no more As your hands, imperial hands intertwine with mine

I'm weak! I fail! I'm crumbling, this is my downfall My heart in the rubble and ashes falls under your sway All my designs are forfeit! Witness my downfall The Tower, the Hanged Man, the Lovers are drawn Let the cards fall where they may

I'm weak! I fail! I'm crumbling, this is my downfall My heart in the rubble and ashes falls under your sway All my designs are forfeit! Witness my downfall What do you have to say for yourself? What do you have to say?

[twstchaos]

Missy Chievous: Birthday Bloom / Bloom Broom Birthday SSR - Happy Birthday

Do not mind me, just casually a day late for the birthday post.

The Magical Pendulum has decided Missy’s birthday fate. 

Sonne Clemens belongs to @twstwhisper. 

“Happy Birthday” vignette and the random urge to write dialogue solely in the Harveston accent under the cut. 

Happy Birthday (Part One)

INT. DIASOMNIA DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE

MISSY: It’s gettin’ late. Ah sure hope the Magical Pendulum didn’t forget about me this year... 

???: Sorry that it took me a while, the dorm leader wanted to make sure my appearance was in order. 

SONNE: Joyeux anniversaire, Missy!

MISSY: SONNE BESTIE, HI!

MISSY: Ah really lucked out wit havin’ ya as mah presenter this year!

SONNE: ...could you be any louder?

MISSY: Hmm? Didya say somethin’?

SONNE: Nope, nothing at all. Let’s just get this interview underway. 

MISSY: ALRIGHT! Fire away, Sonne!

SONNE: Okay, your first question is “if you could use flight magic to go anywhere, where would you like to go?”

MISSY: Hmm, that’s a good question. Lemme think... 

MISSY: There’s this country off the coast of the Queendom of Roses. Ah’ve always wanted ta go there ever since Ah was little.

SONNE: Country off of the coast... 

SONNE: That’s Albion, right?

MISSY: Yeah! That’s actually where mah mum’s from, well, her ancestors that is. 

MISSY: Ah mean, Ah don’t need flight magic ta get there, so Ah guess it’s just somewhere Ah would like ta go. 

SONNE: Though, since your mum’s family is from Albion, why hasn’t she taken you there herself?

MISSY: Uhm, Ah’ve never really tried ta ask her ‘bout goin’. It’s just somethin’ Ah’ve always thought ‘bout. 

MISSY: Honestly, Ah dunno much about Albion ta begin wit.

MISSY: Ah just know that the family has a HUGE estate there. 

—

Happy Birthday (Part Two)

INT. DIASOMNIA DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE

SONNE: Alright, time for the second question. 

SONNE: “What is your best class?”

MISSY: Ha! The all-powerful me has got two answers for that!

MISSY: Ahm pretty good, if Ah say so mahself, with the more “do it” classes like flight in PE and Practical Magic. 

MISSY: Ahm more of a hands-on learner than a “read about it in a book” learner. 

MISSY: When Ah do somethin’, Ah do it flawlessly. 

MISSY: Magic just comes naturally to me!

SONNE: Okay, I get what you mean.

SONNE: How about from those two, which is your favorite?

MISSY: Ah bet yer thinkin’ it’s flight, but ya’ll be surprised to know it’s Practical Magic. 

MISSY: Ah don’t really know why Ah like it more, but Ah just do.

MISSY: Ah just feel such a rush whenever Ah complete a spell perfectly. 

MISSY: Also, competing and beating both Epel and Roche at seeing who can do the spell first is always the highlight of the class for me.

MISSY: So yeah, Ah love Practical Magic. 

—

Happy Birthday (Part Three)

INT. DIASOMNIA DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE

SONNE: Okay, time for the final question. 

SONNE: “What would you like to do in the coming year?”

MISSY: Honestly, Ah’ve never really thought ‘bout this much.

MISSY: Ah guess like any first-going-ta-second year on the Magift team, Ah’d like ta be first string but not much else. 

MISSY: Actually, there is another thing Ah’m hopin’ ta get better at. 

SONNE: Oh? What’s that?

MISSY: Ah’ve been workin’ on mah Unique Magic to transform inta a lot more. 

SONNE: Ah, yes, your Unique Magic.

MISSY: Once we say what Ah could potentially do, Ah put in the effort ta get there. 

MISSY: And with the help of Néné, Malleus, and everyone else in Diasomnia, Ah have finally mastered “kitty form!”

SONNE: ...oh, good grief. I’m sensing more pranks in the future.

MISSY: Ehehe, ya know it!

MISSY: But since it is a very drastic transformation, Ah can only sustain it for a few minutes right now. 

MISSY: BUT AH WILL OBTAIN MAXIMUM KITTY POWER! 

MISSY: NOW THAT IS MAH PLAN FOR THE COMING YEAR!

—

SONNE: As much as I would love to hear more about how you plan on terrorizing unsuspecting members of the student body with your “maximum kitty power,” our time together for your birthday interview has come to an end. Please accept this broom. 

MISSY: Aww, Ah wanted to chat more with mah bestie!

MISSY: But Ah guess we can continue this later! 

MISSY: Now it's time for me ta show off mah flying prowess!

SONNE: You got this, Missy, and happy birthday!

—

MISSY: Shoulders back, chest high, head up, and FLY!

[albertasunrise]

Stuck in the Middle of it - Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Years after breaking up, you bump into Benny Miller again one evening at a bar. He was one man you could confidently say you had loved once but you’d both agreed you were better off as friends. When he introduces you to Frankie Morales, you instantly feel connected to the man but unbeknownst to you… You get thrown into a love triangle. The two men crazy about you. Only thing is… you have no idea.

Relationships: Reader x Ben Miller, Reader x Frankie Morales

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any warnings. This will be an 18+ fic (So I'd had this more or less written out already... It's my birthday on Friday so won't be doing much writing. Hopefully this'll keep you going for now 😘… sorry in advance 😬)

Series Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2

Ben held you as you sobbed into his chest. You'd stopped crying long enough for him to guide you to his couch before you had broken down again. He hated seeing you like this and a twinge of guilt shot through him at the knowledge that he was somewhat to blame for this. The last time he'd witnessed you cry was the day he'd ended things all those years ago, and it hadn't been this bad.

You'd not been all that surprised when Ben had called and said that you needed to talk. 

Things have been strained for a few months. Your sex life had all but fizzled out. You could pinpoint the moment things had started to fall apart almost down to the second. You'd been at dinner and had brought up the future. You'd asked him what he wanted and he told you he didn't know before asking you. You'd told him that you wanted to get married, have kids and buy a house... He'd been off after that. 

Your stomach was still twisting in painful knots though as you waited for that inevitable knock on the door. It came around half an hour later and when you'd opened the door, you knew what you feared was true. 

Sitting down at your table, he took your hands in his and sighed, trying desperately to find the right words. 

"I think we both know this ain't workin' anymore." He started, eyes drifting up to yours that were filling with tears rapidly "I've been thinking about what we talked about the other day and the truth is... I don't want any of that stuff right now." He confessed and you let out a choked sob. 

"I don't want to waste your time baby." He continued, giving your hands a gentle squeeze "I don't want those things now... but I'm also not sure I'm ever going to want them." 

You nodded numbly, knocking a few tears loose.

"Then I think it's best we end this." You managed to say before you choked on a sob. 

You paused a moment so you could compose yourself before letting out a shaky breath and continuing. 

"I love you, Benjamin Miller." You stated firmly "But I don't love you enough to give up my dreams." 

Ben's own tears were falling now and as he brought your knuckles to his lips, he placed a soft kiss there before he spoke. 

"I love you too Moonshine." He stated "But I think you're right... I just- I Hope we can remain friends." 

"Sure Ben." You replied, knowing in your heart of hearts that you'd lose touch eventually "We can stay friends."

"I don't understand it." You managed to say as you pulled yourself back so you could wipe your tears with your sleeve "We were perfect! I even met his daughter. We were talking about the future and then suddenly... He's breaking things off." 

"Fish had to have a good reason," Ben said, hoping to gauge whether you knew any semblance of the truth.

"He just said he couldn't tell me why." You replied sadly and Ben felt his guilt grow. 

Frankie hadn't told you. 

"This hurts so much Ben." You sobbed and he sighed, pulling you into his arms again. 

"I know." He soothed "But it will get easier." 

"No." You replied, shaking your head "I'm in love with him." You confessed and Ben's stomach sank "I don't if I'll ever get over this." 

"You got me Moonshine." He said softly, placing a kiss in your hair "I'll help you get through this." 

You nodded numbly, whispering your thanks as you held onto him tighter. You were relieved, somewhat, that through this heartbreak, you'd not lost Ben. You liked having him back in your life again and knowing that despite his best friend breaking up with you, he was willing to stick around brought you comfort. 

If only you knew the truth. 

~

Will and Ben didn't hear from Frankie for almost two months after the breakup. He'd kept to himself. Going through the motions but he couldn't face anyone but his co-workers. He certainly couldn't see Ben. 

Fate, however, forced his hand. Coming down with what he'd thought was the flu had rendered him useless and Isla was suddenly such a burden. Will had arrived within an hour of Fish calling him and had been quick to set up shop but as the days had passed, it had become clear that Frankie's illness was a little more serious than anyone had first thought. 

You and Ben had been sitting watching your new favourite show when Ben's phone had rung. Glancing at it, he noticed it was his brother and had chosen to ignore it. In the six weeks since the breakup, you and the younger Miller had been spending a lot of time together and you'd treasured it. He had done everything he could to try and help you heal and it was starting to work. Your heart hurt a little less every day. 

He answered when his brother rang a second time. Barely 30 seconds between his first call failing and him trying Ben again. 

"What?" Benny answered, your head turning to look at him and you noted how his expression changed from irritated to worried in a heartbeat as his brother spoke to him on the other end "Okay... Yeah, I'll be there right away." 

"Everything okay?" You asked, watching as he frantically looked around for his shoes and coat "Ben?" You questioned again but he didn't answer, only got more frantic when he couldn't find what he was looking for "What's going on?" 

"Fish's in the hospital." He blurted out and your stomach sank. 

"He okay?" You asked, trying to keep your panic from becoming evident. 

"No." Ben replied as he threw his hands up and grabbed his hair "No, he's not." 

"What's happened?" You asked, noting that Ben had finally found his shoes and coat "Ben?" 

"I'm sorry." He said, shaking his head "I have to go." He finished before rushing out the door and leaving you to panic openly. 

You weren't sure why the news that Frankie was in the hospital upset you so much. He'd broken your heart a little under two months ago. Yet as your eyes drifted to the picture you'd still not had the heart to take down, you found you didn't care about any of that. You cared that he was okay. 

...

Ben sprinted into the waiting room where his brother was sitting with a sleeping Isla in his arms. She seemed none the wiser to what was going on and Ben was grateful for that. 

"Any news?" He asked as he sat down next to his brother. 

"Yeah, they uh... They had to put in a chest drain, he was practically drowning there was so much fluid." Will started, being careful to keep his voice low "They've taken him to ICU and he's on a ventilator. It's down to him now." 

"How the hell did this happen?" Ben asked and Will sighed. 

"I don't think he's been taking very good care of himself since we last saw him." Will replied grimly "He's lost a shit tone of weight. Seems he's fed Isla but not himself." Will paused, scraping a hand over his face as he looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms "They think he had the flu, but because he wasn't taking care of himself, it turned into a chest infection which then became a severe case of Pneumonia ." 

Ben felt his stomach sink. 

He was the reason Frankie was so down. He'd made his best friend break up with a girl he'd confessed he'd been falling in love with and now, he was on death's door. His phone dinging dragged his attention away from his brother and pulling it out, he felt himself relax a little at your name glowing on his screen. 

📱 - I hope Francisco's alright. Let me know if there's anything I can do xx 

His heart swelled as his eyes danced over the words you'd sent. Despite everything, you still wanted to help. Still cared. You were the most selfless person he knew and it made him love you even harder. For a moment he forgot about his troubles, his mind consumed only with thoughts of you but a loud cough pulled him from them and he looked up to see a nurse standing in front of him. 

"You can see him now." He said, giving the brothers a small smile "Follow me." 

They were led down what felt like a never-ending hallway and into a ward that was filled with noise. Machines beeping, clicking and whirring filled the air and Ben shivered as he looked around at the patients that inhabited it. They came to a stop outside a clear room and the younger Miller choked at the sight of his best friend inside. 

"Visiting hours end in half an hour." The nurse stated, "But you are welcome to sit with him till then." He finished, giving both brothers what he hoped was a reassuring smile before leaving. 

The brothers made their way into Frankie's room and sat with him until they were thrown out. Will then returned to Franki's house and Ben, knowing he couldn't handle being alone, went back to yours. 

...

To say you were surprised to see Ben standing on your doorstep again that evening was an understatement but you'd invited him in, in an instant when you saw how wrecked he was. You guided him to your couch, poured him a coffee and waited for him to pull himself together enough to talk to you. 

"What's going on Ben?" You asked, hand resting on his back and rubbing soothing circles that had the younger Miller relaxing a little. 

"Fish uh... Well, he's pretty sick." He started and your brows drew together as you waited for him to elaborate "He's got really bad Pneumonia." 

"Shit." You breathed and he nodded "They think it started as flu and just got worse." 

"Poor Frankie." You all but whispered, "Who's got Isla?" 

"Will." Ben answered as he dragged a large hand over his face to wipe away his tears "He's on strong antibiotics and they've got him on a vent. Done all they can and it's just down to him now but he's uh... Well, he's pretty weak." 

You nodded weakly, pulling Ben to lie down with you when he started to sob again. Your heart was breaking for him. Frankie was more than just his best friend. He was his brother. 

"Can I stay with you tonight?" He asked, his voice so small and vulnerable. 

Your eyes drifted down and locked with his. His expression was one that, if you had been standing, would have brought you to your knees. You nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile, before pulling him close again and you both lay there a while before finally deciding that it was time to get some sleep. 

You held Ben's hand and led him down the hall to your bedroom. The blonde couldn't help but notice that you still had the bed that you'd chosen together and his mind flashed back to that day. You'd liked every one, you had tried but Ben had been a little pickier. 

Then, the two of you had stumbled on this one, tucked away in a quiet corner of the store. 

"Now I like this one." Ben said as his eyes studied the furniture closely. 

"You like it because it's reduced to clear." You snorted. 

"I like it because it's nice." He argued before grabbing your hand and pulling you both down onto the soft mattress "See, super comfortable." 

"It's okay I guess." You shrugged as your eyes took it in. 

"Come on, shufty up." Ben said as he scooted further up the bed "I can totally see us chillin' on this." 

"You could sleep on a bed of nails Benjamin." You chuckled as you rolled on your side. 

Ben mirrored your movement, his hand resting on your hip as he nudged your nose with his "What's wrong with this one?" He asked as his eyes locked with yours.

"Nothing." You replied, smiling when he nudged your face so he could kiss you "It's fine." You breathed on his lips, moaning when his tongue teased your lips. 

You parted them without even thinking about it and your tongues danced as the kiss became more heated. Ben pulled you closer before his hand that rested on your hip moved to your mound. 

"Ben..." You gasped as his fingers dipped beneath your underwear "Someone might see us." 

"They might." He replied, kissing you again as his finger started to rub languid circles on your clit "They might not." 

His hand moved lower then and before you could say another word, he'd plunged two thick fingers into your heat as his palm gave your clit the stimulation it needed. 

"Fuck." You breathed against his lips as your hand shot to his shoulder "Shit, Ben." 

He grinned at your response and pushed his fingers a little deeper before he curled them expertly. 

"Fuck.... Shit, fuck... I'm gonna cum." You moaned as your grip on his shoulder tightened "Benny, baby, you're gonna make me cum." 

"Then cum." He ordered and you did. 

You clamped down on his fingers as your orgasm tore through you. Ben's mouth swallowed your filthy moans as he worked you through your peak and just when you thought this situation couldn't get any filthier... he pulled out his fingers and sucked them clean. A shit-eating grin filling his features. 

You both laid there a while as you caught your breath. Your eyes locked on one another as you shared smiles and smirks. 

"I think I'm starting to like this one a little more." You said after a while and Ben grinned.

"Yeah?" He questioned and you nodded. 

"Yeah." 

"Ben?" 

You calling his name pulled him from the memory and he rose his head to look at you. You were standing there holding a shirt he recognised. 

"You still have that?" He asked as you handed him the Fleetwood Mac shirt he'd gifted you all those years ago. 

"Couldn't throw it away." You said with a shrug "It was a gift." 

"Fair enough." He replied with a smile as he accepted it gratefully. 

"I haven't got any bottoms that'll fit you." You piped up, looking at him sheepishly. 

"It's not like we've not seen each other in less before." He teased and your cheeks flushed. 

"True." 

"I mean... This bed." He said as he motioned to it "Some memories here too." 

Your face went beet red at his statement and he swooned. You'd almost forgotten about that day. It was just a bed to you now. The frame was the same but the mattress had been replaced a year or so ago. 

Yet you couldn't deny that you'd made some lasting memories in this bed. The one that sprung to mind when you thought about it hurt though... For now, it was tainted. But that would fade with time... Just like your pain had started to. 

The two of you readied yourselves for bed then. You still slept on the same side Ben remembered. You still tied up your hair, slept in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties and you even hummed the same tune as you went through your nightly routine. It seemed that things never really changed. Then climbing under the covers, you allowed him to pull you close. Smiling when he fell asleep almost instantly. You took a little longer to drift off though, your mind plagued with a mixture of things. Memories of your time with Frankie before it had all gone wrong and how he used to hold you like this also. You felt guilty that you were enjoying the feeling of someone else. It hadn't been that long since things had ended. 

Yet... he had ended it. 

Why should you feel guilty? It was his choice. 

Then when your mind seemed to run out of things to plague you with, you finally succumbed to sleep. 

... 

When you woke the following morning, you were still in Ben's arms. He held you tightly as he slept, his breath tickling your neck and you squirmed a little before something stopped you dead. There was no mistaking what it was and when your ass had pressed against it accidentally, Ben had let out a filthy moan that had gone straight to your core. He started to stir a little, his hips then pressing back and your squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before letting out a shaky breath. You remained deadly still but Ben seemed to get more and more worked up as he started to surface. His hand which had been resting on your stomach slipped under your shirt and skated over your soft tummy before cupping one of your breasts. You couldn't help the moan that slipped from your lips as he gently pinched your nipple between two fingers and your hips shop back instinctively. 

Ben's lips then found your neck as his hand moved away from your breast and travelled south, slipping past the waistband of your panties. Dipping one of his fingers into your fold he found you slick for him and he practically purred against your skin as he slipped two fingers into your heat. 

"Fuck." You practically yelled out, your hands then blindly searching for his underwear and pulling them down to awkwardly pump his length. 

His hand then left your centre and gripped your thigh. He pulled it up and over his own before pulling your underwear to one side as you guided his length to your entrance. You turned your head to kiss him as he pushed inside of you, the two of you crying out in unison as he bottomed out. He waited a moment before rocking his hips lazily and kissing you just as languidly. When he felt you start to flutter around him, he began to rub your clit and cum hard around his length as you moaned loudly into his mouth. 

He continued his lazy pace a little while longer before he finally sought his own release and then as you both lay there in post-coital bliss. All your troubles seemed to disappear. 

But then Ben's phone rang.

"Ben... you need to get down here." Said Will, his tone filling Ben with dread "Fish has taken a turn for the worse." 

"What does that mean?" Ben asked his brother as he turned his head to look at you, your expression filled with concern. 

"It means you need to get down here..." Will paused a moment, struggling to get the next part out "To say goodbye." 

(Don't hate me 😅)

Next

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[antiquatedsimmer]

"Boy, what in tarnation!" Eddy's stern voice sliced through the air, loud with irritation, as he stood in the doorway of Silas's bedroom.

"The devil's taken over this room, Silas!" Eddy's deep voice boomed, He glanced around the cluttered space, his eyes narrowing as he took in the mess of wires, metal scraps, and scattered tools.

Silas, his face flushed with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, quickly stood up from the floor, trying to defend his scattered creations. "Father, I didn't expect you to come up here, I was just- "

Eddy's eyebrows furrowed, his piercing gaze fixed on Silas. " Tearing up my house again no doubt! I've had enough of this nonsense, boy! "

"Your mother and I can hear this commotion all the way in the kitchen! Hobbies are fine, but I never gave you permission to go makin' hell and messin' with my tools!"

Silas straightened his posture, a mix of defiance and respect in his eyes as he addressed his father. "Father," he spoke firmly but with a touch of deference, "I assure you, nothing has been damaged. The appearance of chaos is only because you stumbled upon my work before it was complete. Forgive me for not seeking your permission, but please understand, it was all for the betterment of our farm. I wanted to impress you."

Eddy's brow furrowed as he listened to Silas's explanation. He let out a gruff sigh, a flicker of curiosity mixing with his frustration. "Impress me, huh? What in tarnation have you been workin' on that's supposed to impress me?"

Silas's eyes widened with excitement at the unexpected opportunity his father had presented him. He wasted no time, quickly springing into action. With a sense of urgency, he carefully cleared away the scattered books and papers from his workspace, ensuring that everything was in order and the wires were properly connected.

Eddy stood with his arms crossed, his face etched with a mix of skepticism. He watched Silas intently, trying to make sense of the peculiar contraption before him. It seemed like a mishmash of odd materials—a glass ball perched on a copper pipe—hardly something that seemed relevant to farming.

Eddy's eyes widened in surprise as he witnessed the unexpected transformation before him. He had assumed it was just some peculiar decoration, but the sight that unfolded left him utterly astounded. Silas's hands moved with purpose as he vigorously cranked a handle in a circular motion, and to Eddy's astonishment, the dormant metal contraption suddenly sprang to life.

As the gears turned and the machinery whirred, a mesmerizing glow emitted from the little glass ball, casting a warm and radiant light that filled the room. Eddy could feel a subtle heat emanating from the device

Silas's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he eagerly presented his creation to his father. He carefully adjusted the wiring and when the bulb's glow began to fade he cranked the handle once again, causing the incandescent lightbulb to glow brighter.

"Pa, I've studied the works of Edison, and I've been experimenting and refining my designs for months. We're too far out in the Bramble to be a part of Finchwicks lighting system but I can make something to just power things on our property. "

Eddy stood there, his arms crossed and brows furrowed, He was silent for a moment, contemplating the implications of his son's creation. The room filled with tangible tension as Silas anxiously awaited his father's response.

Finally, breaking the silence, Eddy spoke, his voice filled with caution, "Silas, this here contraption of yours... It's mighty impressive, But, son, I can't help but feel a bit uneasy about all this new-fangled technology. It's unfamiliar territory, and I've always believed in stickin' to what we know works."

"I understand, Father," Silas nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "But what if I take the knowledge and skills you've taught me and apply them to make things better? I want to forge my own path, to contribute something meaningful to our family and our community. I want to make you and Ma proud. And one day, when you both grow older, I want to be able to take care of you, to provide for you just like you've always provided for us."

Eddy's stern expression softened as he listened to Silas's earnest words. He could see the genuine passion and determination in his son's eyes, and a flicker of pride ignited within him. Silas's desire to improve their lives and honor his parents touched Eddy's heart.

Silas continued, his voice filled with hope, "I thought that maybe I could start by bringing light to your workshop, making it easier for you to work and create. And then, with your guidance, we could expand that to light up our home. "

Eddy felt a wave of conflicting emotions surging within him, his gruff exterior giving way to a glimmer of understanding. The glow from the bulb in the room began to fade returning the room to its natural light. He found himself wrestling with his stubbornness, realizing that perhaps his son's ideas weren't as far-fetched as he initially believed.

"Well.... I reckon maybe a bit of light fixin' wouldn't hurt."

Silas couldn't contain his joy at his father's unexpected acceptance. "Thank you, Father! I promise you won't be disappointed!" he exclaimed with a wide grin.

Eddy nodded approvingly, He turned to leave the room, his voice carrying a hint of warning as he glanced over his shoulder. "Just make sure you keep all this work confined to the shed, boy. If you burn down this house, you'll find yourself longing for the days when a switch was the worst of your worries!"

Left standing in his room, Silas felt a surge of determination, confidence, and excitement. The conversation with his father had gone even better than he had hoped. It was a small victory, but it filled him with renewed energy and purpose.

[x-heesy]

𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚑𝚞𝚌𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚣 🤌🏾👈🏽

(Prodigy)

Yeah, yeah.

Payback.

(Hook: Prodigy) - repeat 2X

Infamous up in this, you know how we get down

Is that yo' hoe? She feelin' our style

We come through the spot real heavy on the waist

So when they wanna move, we put 'em in they place

(Prodigy)

Yo, I was schooled by the hood, raised by the wolves

Trained by the pain, adopted by guerillas

Gotta tank for a car, ice for a arm

Got tattoos wit' skin and scars from brawls

Gotta buildin' for a crib, Manhattan for a backyard

Skyscraper ladies, they fuck me when they man gone

Kings of New York, I'm one of the few of those

Difficulties to come, it's gon' be funerals

You get a quiet spot in the shade, for a grave

I get paid, 'cause I got murder 'fore sixteen

And I'm so much rich, I got a condo for a piggy bank

So much stash, I just laugh at yo' face

Blow a stack on David, 'cause I'ma pyro

Maniac from carriage, wit' the Rolls Gold

I was told by the O.G.'s like my Pops

If you can't whip they ass, then niggaz get shot (shot, shot)

(Hook) - repeat 2X

(Havoc)

Waist. yo, I was raised by the block and new to the sound of the gun shots

Hustled by the bus stop, aged to the front stop

Block party departed, somebody got bodied

Right before I snatch this little number from my hottie

Yeah, young dude wit' jewels and barrel lens

Heavy bones on the deuce, flickin' it up in the mix

Fast forward to '06, gettin' head in the '06

Have a chick, feelin' like she workin' out on that Bow-Flex

I'm focused, looked through my lens, see my vision

Surprise myself and came through without one spool missin'

From that hallway kissin', there was room in the Carlton

I can smell it in the air, P in that next room sparkin'

Me, I let that heady flow, meet me at the tele' hoe

You don't do the tele', oh, fuck it bitch you gotta go

Workin' wit' a lot of dough, and a little bit of time

Bitch I wanna fuck, I don't wanna know what's on ya mind

(Hook) - repeat 2X

(Prodigy)

Yeah, I know you can't believe it. WHOO!

We still soakin' it all in ourselves

Hollywood Hav' (yeah nigga), V.I.P. (yeah)

It's our means. Curtis. "Billion Dollar Budget" Jackson

Go 'head be mad at that man, he the one made us rich

You ain't the only millionaires on the block no more

Ya money is old nigga. smell that? That's new money nigga

We filthy rotten rich. (yeah) and we taken advantage (let's do it)

G-Unit, Infamous Mobb Deep {*Prodigy making gun noises*} @ro3000 @2020blaq

𝙿𝚞𝚝 ‚𝙴𝚖 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝙼𝚘𝚋𝚋 𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚙

[thelightningthatjumpsbetween]

Chapter Eight

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

Despite the blond’s comment-or rather, because of it-Karl watched him from the cab of the machine, an unreadable look as he stared after Winters.   In truth the engineer was proud of the blond.  Ethan was stubborn to the point of foolishness, and it made Heisenberg’s heart fill.  Ethan had been similarly undeterred by the nightmarish castle on his first entry…Karl had witnessed that firsthand. 

And now after insulting Heisenberg, Ethan had walked right back to the imposing structure.  Idiot.  Heisenberg didn’t know what, if any, of Alcina’s horrors still lurked there, and he wondered if the castle was as insulated from the mold as his factory had been.  It had been the only spot where he could get peace; Miranda’s eyes were not threaded into the piping.  Though they probably would have been if she could have made it grow there.  

Karl felt a pang of something as he watched Ethan disappear across the drawbridge.  Guilt?  He reminded himself that the whole point of bringing Ethan back–of doing all of this, was to stop Miranda for good.  But Karl also knew that was a convenient excuse.  He lamented for what was to come, and reaffirmed to himself that he’d do anything for Ethan and his daughter.  It would come to that, the closer they got to Miranda’s power.  Karl didn’t know anything about the village’s origin and how it connected to Miranda, but that didn’t matter.  

It would still end in sorrow. 

—---

Karl wiped his hands on the grease rag as he turned to give Eva an estimate of time.  Rose wanted to sit on Karl’s lap again, and play with the controls, but now he had a leak to fix. Rosemary was not happy about this pause of playtime.  Right now, the toddler was yelling, slapping her hands into the mud near the carved soon-to-be river.  Ethan was going to kill them when he saw how dirty the girl was, but it would be worth it. 

Eva was knelt beside Rose, likely picking out flowers or bugs to look at.  When Karl sauntered toward them, she looked up at her “brother” expectantly, but a strange look crossed her face. 

“Something is…”

“Mold? Miranda?” 

“No…Ethan is…”

Karl’s posture instantly stiffened.  “What’s wrong?”

“I feel he is calling me,” she said contemplatively.  

“Go,” Karl said quickly, and Eva raised a white-blond eyebrow.  

“Are you certain? I didn’t know that he could do that….it feels as though he has moved far away.  Somehow.”

Karl’s head bobbed under the hat.  “Go.  Leave Rose, I got her.” 

“All right,” Eva said, straightening.  She tilted her head.  “He doesn’t seem to be in pain or afraid,” she added in a hopeful voice.  “Just confused, lost.” 

“Yeah, that’s Ethan every day,” Karl supplied in an annoyed tone.  When he gestured at her impatiently, she waved a hand as if to tell him to quit worrying, and then blinked out of existence. 

Karl was taken aback by this though he’d seen it many times.  “Fuckin’ mold people,” he muttered, and tossed the rag up onto his shoulder.  Now he moved to sit on the dirt bank next to the toddler, but she was staring at the spot where Eva had disappeared.  

“Eba.” 

“Yeah, she’ll be back,” Karl answered dismissively, as if straight up disappearing was a normal thing for adults to do.  “You want me to keep workin’ on our machine, or you wanna go play in the mud?  We can throw rocks–”

Rose was pointing to the spot where Eva had gone, and then in a moment, she too flickered out of Heisenberg’s sight.  

—-------

“I…I’m sorry, I don't.”  

Eva had taught him how language “worked” in the Mold.  Many languages spoken throughout the centuries existed, cataloged, accompanied by the emotions and memories spoken in that language.  It was not easy or effective to try talking to someone if they were unaware they were in the “dream state”, but it could be done–or so she had said.  What was important was consciousness on both speakers' parts.  And, emotions mattered as well.  Intent.  Will to understand and communicate.  Curiosity. With these traits, beings within the strata had hope of speaking through the voices, the collective. 

Or so she had said.  

But Ethan realized as he stuttered, still staring up at the other, that he had no idea how to orchestrate that collective to do anything he’d asked it to.  He had felt similarly stupid when trying to materialize a body for Eva.  But that had worked, hadn’t it?  So he would keep trying.  

The blond licked his lips and tried a timid smile.  The absolute beast of a man in front of Ethan raised an eyebrow and yanked again on the plate, bowl, whatever the hell it was.  Ethan suddenly felt the floor fall away.  The sensation of turning upside down made him yelp, but he floundered in sudden darkness.  WAS he upside down? 

His hands moved in front of his eyesight; he could see them, but dimly.  As he watched, they blinked in and out of sight, changing.  Whole.  Then maimed.  Bandaged.  Whole again.  Blackened.  He was falling, he realized, and tilted his head back.  There were strange windows around him.  Ethan had no memory of this place, or anything like it.  But then he realized this wasn’t a place.  It was many places.  It was everywhere, nowhere.  The void.  The “deeper” layers that Eva spoke of were spinning, out of reach, around him.  

“Eva,” he called aloud, and then felt overwhelming dizziness.  Ethan succumbed to it quickly.  

When he awoke it was with a grunt, and Ethan was surprised to see that he was standing.  Standing…where?  

An intricate rug was under his feet.  But it looked different than anything in the castle.  And everything several feet past him was blurry, rainbow prisms blending around what looked like impossibly tall columns.  When he tilted his head back he saw darkness.  The inky black of the void.  Eva had warned him of this.  

Eva, he tried again, in his mind, feeling as if his voice were muffled. I have no fucking idea where I am. 

Hazel eyes wandered the sparse surroundings and landed on the man who was now walking away from Ethan, holding the golden bowl as if it were a treasured prize, turning it in the soft light that fell around them.  He was dressed in what the blond supposed was a medieval, Ottoman style tunic.  It was just as ornate as the rug.  

Somehow, the man’s flowing hair gave the impression that he was underdressed, or being rebellious.  Ethan watched, fascinated, as red liquid began to pour from….the air? Into the plate that the man held out in front of him.  Was it wine?  As he stared, mesmerized, Ethan realized he knew exactly where he stood.

The benches were different, and the cathedral was intact, even if it blurred from his vision and only appeared in bands of soft, overlapping colors.  This was the church.  The same church where the Four Lords had argued over his fate.  Well, really only two had argued.  The benches were arranged similarly, two sets facing each other, but the pulpit had a golden throne.  This was where the tall brunette strode, happily sitting with his full bowl of wine.  He did so rather gracefully, and now beckoned Ethan toward him. 

The blond’s mouth felt dry and he strangely obeyed without intending to.  As he walked, the other’s eyes were on him, burning a hole in him.  It reminded him of how Karl stared at him sometimes, as though Ethan were a strange creature, but a delicacy.  The gaze was intense-commanding, as well as curious.  

The man-Godric, Ethan assumed, wasted no time in enjoying the wine, sipping from it as he continued to stare into Ethan’s soul. Suddenly the blond’s vision was interrupted by different scenes.  He saw, unwillingly, Mia at their wedding.  Eveline’s face.  Jack’s.  Then Chris, helping Ethan sight a rifle on the range.  Rosemary after her birth, when he’d cut her umbilical cord.  Miranda in the fallow plot, laughing as she walked away from him.  Then Karl, on one knee in this very room, speaking to him in a growl.  

“Are you…reading my mind?” Ethan questioned, his voice shrill.  He wasn’t even upset about it, and found himself fascinated.  His ears reddened as the memory of Karl stomping into his room, kissing him, entered his mind.  He’d held up the compass to pacify Karl, attempting to dissuade the angry advance.  

“Ah!” Godric seemed to stop here, and the memory fell away as he pointed a finger accusingly at Ethan.  Next, he pointed the finger at his own lips, and his expression became almost humored.  Was he making fun of Ethan for being kissed by Heisenberg?  But then he gestured at his neck, and the blond tilted his head, trying to refrain from scowling.  He was a bit too intimidated by this tank of a being, and beyond that, seemed to sense that the humor was not ill intent. 

“You want…me to show you the necklace?”

When the man’s eyes lit up, Ethan took another uncertain step toward the throne and threaded his fingers through the gold chain.  He paused to look at his left hand as his right lifted the metal.  His fingers looked normal.  Thank God.

The man had already gulped half of the wine, and now sat the bowl on one large leg as he leaned forward, his intense eyes narrowing at the compass.  Ethan had to move even closer, and as he leaned forward, so too did the sitting King, until their faces were a foot away.  Godric’s expression turned almost wistful, sentimental.  Large hands stroked the gold, his thumb tracing over the glass.  

“It was mine,” he finally said, each word a struggle on unfamiliar lips.  It barely sounded like English, but Ethan stared, incredulous, just the same.  The dumbfounded look changed as a smile threatened to creep across his face.  

“Yours.” 

He wanted to see if the other could understand him now.  The man looked sharply at Ethan before nodding slowly.  Just as Ethan scoffed, feeling the need to pull away from the very close face, he sensed a change around them.  Something moving.  He turned back toward the benches, where the shimmering colors around them opened, parting like curtains.  And beyond the curtains was a looming darkness.

“Miranda?” he asked, breathless.  Could she manifest here?  Could she sense him? 

The King hissed at this and stood, knocking over the wine and bowl entirely before stomping in front of Ethan, protectively.  The gesture caused Ethan’s ears to redden even more–was this really a relative of Heisenbergs?  It was almost comically romance-novel-esque.  But his pondering was instantly interrupted, his fears melting when Eva stepped from the void.  

“Eva!”

“Ethan!” She stared, incredulous, first at the man, and then around the room.  Her expression was awe, then confusion.  “How did you…?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, but then Eva was speaking to the King in an unfamiliar language.  The man relaxed, nodded, and spoke back.  When Ethan raised his eyebrows, she translated, “He says that he brought you here.  This is fascinating.” 

“I thought you were Miranda,” he exhaled, causing the King to stiffen again.  “Apparently even he knows who she is.”

The King spoke, and Eva nodded.  Godric seemed to consider Ethan, and turned toward him with a rather saddened, yet comforting, half-smirk.  “Safe, here.” 

Eva’s eyes widened at the broken English, but before she could comment on it, the same sliver of void opened behind her and someone else stepped through. 

“Rosemary!” Ethan could have passed out.  Eva spun, and Godric actually chuckled, a sound which should have been heartwarming but was terrifying.  

“How did she…?”

“She must have followed me,” Eva said, looking both impressed and shocked.  “I have not gone this far into the layers with a physical body.  But perhaps it is easy to find us, for her.”

“That’s not good,” Ethan said flatly.  “We need to get her out of here.”

“Why?” Eva sounded almost indignant.  “She is with us.  She is even better at moving than we.” 

“Because Miranda might be here?  I don’t want her to…”

“No,” the King commanded, and he moved toward the child, bending down on one knee.  When Rose walked toward the imposing figure he put one gigantic hand on her head, patting it as if she were a dog.  Eva giggled at this, but Ethan stared, unimpressed.  

“She is strong!”  His English was getting better, somehow.  Ethan wanted to marvel at the situation, but he sighed instead.  He knew that Rosemary was strong, but sometimes he wished she could just live a normal life, unburdened by being the miracle that no one could just leave alone.  

Rosemary however, seemed to love the man, and giggled, moving right into his arms.  This shocked Ethan, but he again was too intimidated to really speak.  Godric carried Rose past Ethan, and sat her on the throne, before sitting on the step next to her.  He now pointed at Eva. 

“You, I know.  You left.” 

“I did.”  She sounded conversational, as though this entire situation was normal and acceptable.  When the man gestured to the benches, Eva and Ethan both took seats across from each other.  Ethan looked up at the void, which had slowly begun to drip from the ceiling, creating oozing lines of black around the edges of his vision.  

“Are we…safe?”

“We have some time,” she answered with a nod.  The Mold’s settings seemed to change and shimmer like dreams, and the less established in its ‘mind’ a place was, the more it would change and morph.  This carried a risk of getting lost, especially if the memory or place wasn’t someone’s own.  

The King, who had given up his throne for a one year old, and now sat comfortably on the steps, grabbed the dropped bowl and held it out again, manifesting wine from air.  

“Why.”  It wasn’t a question.  

Eva considered, rubbing her pale hands up her own arms.  “I wanted to experience life as a human, in the human world…since I died so young,” she answered cautiously, and then said the same sentence in whatever language he spoke.  Ethan paused, wondering how he knew what she’d said.  

Godric drank.  His eyes landed on Ethan again.  Now he looked at them both, interestedly.  “You do not know what you have done,” he said in a careful tone, but he seemed relieved that he could at last explain it.  “Lost balance.” 

“We did? How?”  Ethan spoke before thinking.  He bit his lip.  

Godric leaned back, letting Rose play with his hair, which she had been doing eagerly.  He stroked his long beard, chuffing as if exasperated, and then closed his eyes.  He was willing the words to appear.  Though the man could speak his own language fluently with Eva, he seemed to want to communicate with Ethan more.  

Ethan noticed that the edges of the man’s body seemed to flicker as his own hands did earlier.  He looked almost like a hologram sometimes, light passing through him rather than onto his skin.  Ethan glanced at Eva and said in a low voice, “Is he okay? What’s happening to him?”

“He has been here a very long time,” she responded, reverence in her voice.  “I think it is very hard for him to manifest.  Remember the dementia I spoke of earlier? I do not know how he has resisted it so long.  To be himself.  Not a part of the collective.  It might be very hard for him to appear as he does now.”

Godric’s eyes had opened and he stared at Eva impassively as she spoke.  Whether or not she was right, he seemed to have no intention of saying, because after she spoke the man’s eyes moved back to Ethan and he smirked at him.  

“The Black God must take a mother.  She is the Queen.”  He wagged his finger at Eva.  “You left, no Heir.” 

“I was the Queen?” Eva seemed genuinely shocked at this, and then amused.  But her smile faded as she asked, “But what does that mean?  What is being a Queen?”

“Like a…” the man searched his mind for the word, and then spoke a sharp syllable.  Ethan somehow understood this as well. 

“Like a bee?”

He nodded and shrugged.  Still stroking his beard, he continued.  “To watch, protect, keep the health.  A soul is given power to move as warden of the worlds.” 

Eva’s eyes were huge.  “I…was given this power?  But why?”

Godric waved a hand, and at once the memory that Eva had shown him returned to Ethan’s mind.  Miranda as she had looked while alive, wandering through a blackened cave and hearing Eva’s voice.  Begging her to return.  She had touched the mycelium, Ethan remembered, and he frowned.  

“I think the Mold…tried to use you, but maybe when Miranda touched it, it…tried to use her instead?” Ethan interrupted, and Godric nodded emphatically.  

“But why?  Why would it change its….mind?”

The King answered this one, as Rosemary babbled behind him.  “It should always be mother.  Not a child.  One who grows life, taken care of new life.  This is what it wants.  A womb.”  

Ethan’s eyes widened at the memory of the disgusting center of the mold.  The fetus-like shape on all the cult-like decor.  Maybe the Mold was right about Miranda being a mother, but that was where her qualifications to become ward over an entire network of human consciousness ended.  

Guess the mold wasn’t any better at picking out toxic people than its many inhabitants.  

“Oh my.”  Eva looked crestfallen.  Godric was staring a hole through Ethan again.  

“You are not healing so fast.  Yes?”

“I..uh..” He thought of Karl’s bite marks.  Ethan should have been embarrassed, but the situation was too weird for that fleeting feeling.  “Yes.” 

“It will die,” Godric nodded slowly, as if deciding something.  “Without a Queen.” 

“What!?”  Ethan’s voice was sharp, echoing across the room.  Godric shimmered again, and the lines of void seemed to strengthen.  

Eva had a different question.  “Wait, does this mean that my mother is the current…Queen?”

“No,” he said darkly.  “She is…denied.” 

My powers are leaving me.  

Her cries of chagrin, black tears down her face, just before their battle.  It echoed in Ethan’s head.  He finally understood.  The blond stared at his feet, and then back up at the dripping void.  

The silence was palpable.  Finally he spoke.  “We should leave soon.” 

Eva seemed unable to speak.  She nodded mutely at his suggestion, and then Godric stood, extending the bowl toward Ethan.  When the blond uncertainly took it, Godric pulled him closer, threading a dark-skinned hand through Ethan’s blond hair.  Ethan froze at this.  

He remembered all of the writings of the researcher who had known this man in life.  He had written about the great charisma of the leader.  The man had stayed in the village many years, eventually becoming close to the ruler.  Probably closer than his journals detailed.  His descriptions and sketches had been quite close to reality, but it was another thing to see up close.  

Godric withdrew his hand from Ethan’s hair, and then brushed the same thumb over the glass of the compass at Ethan’s heart.  His gaze was contemplative when he leaned forward and gave the blond a kiss on the cheek.  Ethan was still frozen during this maneuver, his heart thudding in his chest even after the larger man pulled away.  Now Godric slowly released the plate into Ethan’s hands.  

“Find me again,” he said simply, and now he drew back, taking another step to move out of Rose’s way as she toddled from the throne across the steps to Eva.  Eva still sat rather dejectedly on the bench that Alcina had once taken in life.  When Rose approached, Eva smiled and seemed to wash her expression of sorrow, before she stood.  

“Shall we, Ethan?”

“Goodbye, Ethan,” Godric said solemnly as he took his seat on the throne, kicking one leg up over the other knee in a gesture similar to Karl.  

 —----

When Ethan, Eva, and Rosemary landed in the field, sunlight poured into his eyes and caused him to squint against the sun.  Ethan noticed Karl standing nearby, a rather awestruck look on his face. 

“What the hell was that?”

“It’s a long story,” Ethan breathed, and then he did a double-take at Karl’s expression.  “What?”

“Eva just disappeared, then Rose,” Karl explained, tossing his hand up, “Next thing I know, you’re all here.”

“It was instant?”  Ethan frowned, but Eva reminded him, “Time moves differently in those realms.” 

It explained why the time between his ‘dying’ after leaving Chris, and reanimating afterward felt like years.  Or why his dreams seemed to be far longer than his sleeping time.  Ethan saw the confusion and fear still laced on the engineer’s face, and he moved toward him in a rare show of comfort, his long fingers tracing the scarred, tanned skin on Heisenberg’s jaw.  

“I’m sorry.” 

Heisenberg scoffed, but didn’t move away from Ethan’s hand.  

“An’ you think I’m teachin’ her bad habits.”  He gestured to Rosemary.  

Ethan’s attempt at a reassuring smile faded as he nodded in agreement, noting the mud all over his daughter.  “You’re right.” 

However, after another moment, he looked suspiciously back at Karl.  “You didn’t put her in the excavator, did you?”

“Only til she broke it,” he announced triumphantly, and Ethan’s scowl made the engineer laugh aloud.  “You jealous, Buttercup?  Want the next turn on my lap?”

Ethan sighed in exasperation, and turned to Eva.  She still looked shaken, and Ethan put his arm around her, having a far easier time comforting her than he did Heisenberg.  “We’ll figure this out,” he promised.  She nodded, but said nothing.  

[resurrection-of-soul]

Flashback | PSYCHOBREAK 7

Writer: Akira (日日日)

Characters: Rei, Koga, Adonis, Kaoru

[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]

Time: Later that day, in the dead of night.

After taking the sleeping pills again, Rei and Kaoru find themselves back in the dream world.

Rei: (Hm.) (It seems we hath safely entered the dream once more.)

From offscreen, past Rei is heard cheerfully humming.

Rei: (And lo, there goes my past self, sauntering down the street as though he holds sovereignty of it, exuding the confidence that defined my yesteryears. How spirited thou art.) (Yet, 'tis merely an attempt to cast off thy sorrow by donning a boisterous mask, is it not? What a pitiful creature.) (Let's see, this place is… It appears thou art wandering about overseas, just as I once did in the real course of history.) (Wearied by the tribulations and woes of thy homeland, thou departed in pursuit of joy.) (But no matter how diligent thy search, the bluebird of happiness shall not appear before thee, o' young one.) (In any event, according to the AIIE experiment manual, if one strongly concentrates on preset keywords, one may exert a certain degree of influence over the dream—) (Or more precisely, over oneself within the dream.) (It does now bestow upon thee the level of control which one might exert over a character in a videogame, yet 'tis still a hundredfold better than being forced to stand idle witness as history repeats itself.) (I am no longer a mere reader, passively watching as the story unfolds.) (I am alive.)

Scene change

Koga: ♪~♪~♪ ~......♪

Rei: Heeey! I'm hooome~! Sakuma Rei-chan has returned~

Koga: Sakuma-senpai- W, Wo- Wh-Whuh- Woa-

Rei: Wh-what's wrong? Yer whole body's shakin', ya sick or somethin'…? Haha. What a weird kid y' are, Puppy.

Koga: Sh, shut up… Don't talk to me right now. I'm desperately fightin' down the urge to hug ya and start yellin' "WOOHOO! SAKUMA-SENPAI! WOOOO!" okay?!

Rei: It's totally fine if ya don't fight that down, though. There theeee~re…♪

Koga: ……n!?

Rei: Okay, there there, good boy… You must've been lonely while I was gone. Sorry, Puppy. Haha. When we were younger, I used to give my lil' bro hugs like this all the time whenever he was feelin' lonely.

Koga: ……! ……! ……!

Koga: P-please cut it out… Sakuma-senpai, you're the object a' everyone's admiration, shinin' from afar. Ya shouldn't go outta yer way t' be nice ta someone like me. I'll tarnish ya.

Rei: What're ya saying, stu~upid? Am I¹ not even allowed ta give someone a hug? That'd be pretty damn sad, wouldn't it?

Koga: ……?

Rei: More importantly, some kinda sixth sense started actin' up — or rather, there was this strange sensation urgin' me on from within, so I hurried on home, but… How's the situation right now? Were ya able t' exterminate those "vampires" that were runnin' wild? Well, it doesn't really matter to me either way, though.

Koga: Nah, the situation hasn't really changed much… They quieted down for a bit, but after ya went abroad, they started actin' up again. Now they're buzzin' around all over the damned place. It's so freakin' annoyin'. But don't worry. Hasumi-senpai's supposedly revitalizin' the student council right now, workin' on improvin' the environment and creatin' rules to prevent students from goin' astray n' becomin' delinquents. Or, well, that's what he said, but t' be honest, I don't really understand that kinda complex stuff, n' if you ask me it doesn't reaaaally seem to be havin' any effect.

Rei: That sounds about right. Just declarin' yourself the student council doesn't mean anythin' if ya don't have any authority. It's like a little birdie chirpin' away in the background. People 're just gonna ignore it.

Koga: Basically, it doesn't matter how powerful yer magic cards are if the field prevents ya from activatin' its effects, huh.

Rei: Uh, what're ya goin' on about?

Koga: Um, uh… I… I like card games. That's what I was going on about.²

Rei: Ohh… Are card games fun? Teach me how to play next time you're free ♪ I'm always bored outta my damn mind, 'specially lately.

Koga: This ain't the time fer idle chitchat… Please do somethin', Sakuma-senpai. That four-eyes seriously ain't cut out for this.³

Rei: "Overqualified for the role³," huh? Haha, it'd be great if that were the case. Please grow big, bouzu. To the point where people consider ya overqualified, so ya can be my playmate again.

Koga: ……?

[ ☆ ]

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ore-sama-chan

Koga drops the -sama from his personal pronoun as well as the delinquent speech in this line. The kid is embarrassed beyond belief.

The word used here is 役不足. This word tends to be enormously misused by the general public. Much like the English phrase "could care less" is often used to mean the opposite of what the phrase implies, 役不足 means to be massively overqualified for your job, but is colloquially used to mean you're not up to the task. There really wasn't a clean way to translate this, as Koga uses it to mean the latter, while Rei means the former.

[20ans]

Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me

So, the new chapter is out! It took me A LOT of time to research everything I needed for this, but I'm finally done. Also, the drama starts escalating. Stay tuned.

Here's a piece of fluff for now tho:

Renton wakes up with a mild hangover to the delectable smell of potatoes fried with herbs. The first thing he sees is Simon, standing in his boxers by the stove with a spatula in his hand, humming something that sounds suspiciously like "You spin me round" while giving the pan a good stir.

"Hoo are ye up and aboot this early?" asks Renton, rubbing his eyes.

"Define early. It's hauf past eleven," says Simon as he turns around, "Since ye're up, ye can pit the music on."

"Alright," says Renton, slowly climbing out of bed as though not to spill the booze still sloshing in his skull. "Dae ye remember what time we got back last night?"

"Ah've nae idea. It was definitely before sunrise."

Renton checks the stereo, which is loaded with an R.E.M. record, decides that it's good enough, and presses play.

"Ye're in a guid mood," he says as he wraps his arms around Simon, pulling him close so he can feel the warmth of the skin against his chest.

"I'm no' workin' till seven taenight, an' that's just fur a couple o' hours." Simon leans back into the embrace without losing focus on the cooking. Then, he lifts a bowl of beaten eggs and pours them over the golden-brown potatoes sizzling in the pan.

"Whit's that?" asks Renton, "An omelette?"

"How dare ye? That," Simon points with the spatula, "is a frittata. A family recipe frae the mitherland, if ye must know."

"Mitherland? Ye've never even bin tae Italy."

"Comportati bene, cazzo!" retorts Simon, trying to sound all serious. Renton is vaguely aware that "cazzo" means "a dickhead" or something. The contrast between Simon's thick Scottish accent and his undoubtedly Italian intonation is just too funny. "The recipes o' my ancestors course through my veins; the proof's in the frittata," continues Simon.

"Aye, Marco Polo," says Renton and presses a kiss to the nape of Simon's neck.

After months spent cramming for his Highers, figuring out what he wants to study, filling in applications to universities, and making stuff in essays about how motivated he is to join the ranks of university students, summer finally gives Renton a respite. Now, close to the finish line, the only thing he needs to do is to apply for a student grant from the Edinburgh City Council and wait to get his Highters results back, but that won't happen until August.

Claire said she'd help him, and she knows about this stuff, so Renton isn't particularly worried. If anyone can figure it out, it's Claire. Renton already feels like he's punching above his weight anyway. The exams went fairly well, so he should get a few Bs. That should be enough to get him somewhere, if not in Glasgow, then in Aberdeen, which is his third choice. He also applied to the University of Edinburgh, but not because he wants to stay and study here, but just because why not? It's good to have options.

"Ye taggin' alang taenight?" asks Simon later in the afternoon. He's dressing for work now, after they've spent all day lying in bed, fooling around, and doing fuck all.

"Nah, actually, I'm heidin' tae Claire's later," says Renton. "She said she'd help me fill oot the applications."

"Didnae ye say ye already did that?" asks Simon, fixing his collar in the mirror.

"Aye, those were applications fur universities. I still need tae get aw the papers ready tae apply fur funding so I huv somethin' tae live aff of."

"Fuck, how much paperwork daes it tak tae get intae wan fuckin' university?"

Renton can't hold back a laugh. "Ye're better aff no' knowing," he says, ruffling Simon's hair to mess up his ready-for-work look.

"Oy!" protests Simon.

"I'll come ower on Monday, aye?"

"On Monday? Whit are ye gonnae dae the morra?"

"Claire's folks are away again, so I'll hang oot at hers and hopefully finish this hail thing before I reach my wit's end."

"Workin' extra hard in exchange fur that university counselin', Rents?"

"It's no' like that," objects Renton, "We're mates, and mates help each ither, ye know."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," says Simon. "Jist dinnae forget tae leave the keys tae Finlay, okay? And turn aff the boiler this time, fur fuck's sake."

"Aye," says Renton, and gives Simon's arse a squeeze when he's about to get out of the door. Simon swiftly turns around, grabs Renton's neck, and forces his tongue down his throat.

Sometimes, Simon gets weird about Renton spending time with Claire. It kind of looks like he might be jealous, but that's not it. Simon doesn't seem bothered about them hooking up; it's like he doesn't like them hanging out and being friends. So that's not exactly jealousy, but who knows what it is since there's no way to make Simon talk about how he feels unless you put a knife to his throat, and still, there's no guarantee. Somehow, they found themselves in a funny relationship where it's fine to jerk each other off, but talking about it is off the table.

Simon hangs out with a lot of people and hooks up with even more — maybe not so much lately, but still — and Renton always gives him his space. Although they have been spending a lot of time together, so at times, it feels like Renton has actually moved in with Simon as he spends more time at his place than at his parents'. But Simon lives in the Old Town so that just makes sense.

The kiss is about to turn into a full make-out session, but then someone's coming up the stairs, and Simon releases Renton.

"If ye change yer mind, we'll be doon Cowgate for a guid bit," he says, a bit winded, "The regular spots: Green Room, The Basement, an' mibbe Riverside Bar. Got five grams tae sell." Then he hurries down the stairs without looking back.

Read the new chapter