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ornii · 2 months

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Could you please tag me in all the parts of my kind of crazy? Cuz i found part 1 and 2 but cant find the rest. And if there is no more could you please continue it?

Yeah I still need to learn how Tagging works, so if anyone can, let me know. But to answer your question no I haven’t made a part three

Until now!

My Kind of Crazy, Part 3

Inside the run down office building, Red Hood motions for Deadshot to follow him. Katana watches them closely as Red Hood opens the door and they both step in, the room was a large office space with multiple computers running programs and systems. And FBI workers tearing and wiping the files. And the one ordering them around was Amanda Waller arguing with Flag.

“You wouldn't have made it without them.” She spoke, packing.

“We got lucky. I don't do luck. I do planning and precision.” Rick replies, and Waller shrugs it off.

“Admit it, Rick. I was right.” She spoke, and Flag wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, I told you to get on the damn truck. Why'd you stay?” He eyed Waller, who stopped packing and gave flag a harsh reality check.

“I was studying your girlfriend. She takes an average person, a yoga mom, an elderly retiree, and she turns them into a soldier who can take a headshot and still fight. It's an instant army. How'd she do it, Flag? How'd she game the system with you watching her every move?” Waller asked, it it was obvious she knew the answer already. Flag buried his pain and ignored the question.

“I'll accept the consequences.” He said

“I am your consequence.” Waller replied with stern emphasis. Just as he prepares to weasel out again, Deadshot and Red Hood approached.”You might need to be careful. They think we're rescuing Nelson Mandela.” Deadshot eyes Waller, who walks past him

“I can take care of myself. Shut it down, wipe the drives.” She gives the order to the Agents who continue to wipe their digital prints from this Operation. Deadshot leans into flags ear as he watches Waller.

“Uh, hey, man, I know you can't hear me 'cause you're trapped in your temple of soldierly self-righteousness, but a two-faced dude like you wouldn't survive a second on the street.” Deadshot points out the obvious Hypocrisy, Flag being called out for lying about this High Value Target.

“Oh, says the guy who shoots people for money.” Flag retorts, Red turns quickly to Waller at the sound of gunfire. Waller has systematically executed the workers. Red could only watch, knowing Waller or Flag could turn his brain into mush. Waller leaves, and Red Hood eyes flag, who doesn’t look very happy about what he’s just witnessed.

“That is just a mean lady.” Deadshot follows.

“Yeah. You get used to it.” Flag grumbled, Red walks past him, “I don’t think a good soldier would let innocent people die, but what do I know right?” Red and Deadshot exit the room, and the Squad see who they’ve been made to protect. Waller and Flag step out into the frying pan of sorts.

“Let's go home.” Flag ordered, it it wasn’t on a natural bass, more of a coercive tone, but it obviously wasn’t working.

“Yeah, let's go home. That sounds good. You guys wanna go home? Or you wanna go back to prison?” Boomerang said, obviously sarcastic, they all had their reasons for not going back home.

“What I'm saying is we kill the pair of 'em now before they kill us.” Boomerang said, which many of agree with, slowly surrounding them, “I got this.” Waller took this one herself, letting Katana and Flag watch, she stepped before the squad, “You all made it this far. Don't get high-spirited on me and ruin a good thing.” Waller shows the explosive device in her hand, much like the one Flag has, all set to explode just like Red Hood predicted. The Squad all share a glance, and they reluctantly escort Waller to the roof. The dark sky has hints of neon lights and flames dance in the sky. Regrouping with Flags men they watch a Helicopter fly towards the Building.

“Savior One-Zero, this is Ground Element. Savior One-Zero, how copy? Savior One-Zero, the LZ's clear.” One of Flags men tries to hail down the Chopper, but no response.

“Boss, they're not talking to me.” He spoke, and Flag quickly assessed the situation, “Our bird's been jacked. Light it up!” Flag and his men open fire on the Helicopter, its panel opens up to Joker, dressed in a suit and with an AK opening fire with manic laughter, a minigun mounted on the heli also opens fire on them, ducking behind AC generators to keep from getting torn to shreds. Red Peers over the unit and his eyes catch a glimpse of that face, the manic laughter, the pale skin. A flood of rage built into Red and he leaped over the Unit, firing his dual pistols at the helicopter. Titanium composite hollow tipped bullets, with a C4 Kicker, explosive ammunition he made himself, the shots land hard on the wall that actually begin to make a dent. They turn the Minigun to him and looks to shred him, before Red can get turned into mince meat, Diablo comes in and tackles him before another AC Unit. He saved Red, who looked at the man, he shrugged it off and kept down to avoid bullet fire, but this wasn’t a random attack it was coordinated, Harley begins to walk to the Helicopter, and Waller orders Flag to execute her, but every tap of the device leads to an error. Harley leaps to the rope and escapes, leaving Waller one less of a member, and Red, a missed opportunity. Dead soldiers litter the roof and everyone steps out of cover, Waller making a B line for Deadshot.

“Deadshot, shoot that woman right now!” She yells, and Deadshot shrugs

“She ain’t do shit to me.” He said lazily

“You're a hitman, right? I got a contract. Kill Harley Quinn. Do it for your freedom and your kid.” Waller said, which was more than enough for him.

“Now she dead.” He walked to a Unit and mounted to fire, heat her Harley dance and swing around, and takes the shot, Harley’s body goes limp, but she suddenly laughs and swings more around, Deadshot missing on purpose, he walked back to the ground.

“I missed.” He said, and Red wasn’t listening, all he felt was red, his chance to kill the Joker, gone. He walked over to the corpse of one of the soldiers, snatching a rifle from its cold dead hands and he mounts up as well, everyone watches as the helicopter takes a slight left. He took everything into consideration and fired, the bullet flew and it hit the cockpit and straight through the pilots skull. They watched the helicopter spiral and go down. Red turned to the group and dropped his gun.

“Got what I wanted… We done here?” He said, everyone was silent, showing the ruthless cold side of the Red Hood. No one knew how to take it, but it’s safe to say for the Red Hood, that felt good. Another Heli picked up Waller and they left. Flag waits as the chopper soars off into the night deploying Flares. Minutes pass and Flag calls in, and listens.

“Ops just confirmed. She's down. 1k west. Let's go get her. The mission's not over.” Flag and his men turned to the exit with the “Heroes”

“Nah. It is for me. We had a deal.” Deadshot spoke up for most of them, everyone.

“Without Waller, you got nothing.” Flag walked off, and the group reluctantly follows. Making ground back on the floor they run into a less than happy Harley Quinn, who survived somehow. She spots them and attempts to put on a happy face.

“So.. shot any good birds lately?” she asked, mixed with sarcasm and scorn.

“One… if it means anything I wasn’t aiming for you.” Red Replies.

“I could kill you..” Harley grumbled

“You’d die trying..” Red replies as they approached Wallers downed chopper. Tears the door open croc side stepped to let them see. But no Waller. Dead corpses but none hers. Red Activated his detective mode in his visor. He scans around and they’re dead.

“I don’t see any of Wallers blood, gun residue everywhere though.. she tried to fight off whoever came for her.. rains going to be a pain in the pass to pick up any blood or sweat to track.”

“What’s your point?” Deadshot asked, Red turned to him. “My Point.. is that they captured her, they didn’t want her dead.. that have some use for her. But for what, I don’t know.” He said, and spots Wallers bag and began to ruffle though it. And sees a black binder and begins to sift though it and red was silent, he turned to Deadshot and handed him the binder. “The Hell’s this?” He asked.

“Why we’re here..” he responds, Deadshot reads it and looked back up to Red, he angrily takes the binder and storms off to Flag, he hurls the binder at the wall and everyone turns to flag. Deadshot and Flag are eye to eye.

“You tell everybody everything. Or me and you gonna go right now.” He said, and flag’s face told a story, and he reluctantly explained. “Three days ago, a non-human entity appeared in the subway station, So Waller sent me and a woman with incredible abilities. Enchantress. A witch. See, nobody could get near this thing, but the witch could. Needless to say, the whole thing was a bad idea, the woman was… possessed by the Enchantress, she’s held captive by her. We were going to blast a hole in the subway under the entity and.. she tricked us with the bomb, And that's how she escaped from Waller. So now you know.” Flag explained his turmoil, to everyone who listened and everyone respectfully was sick of it. Red scoffed, “we’re sent on this death mission to fix your fuck up..” he folds his arms, and Deadshot shook his head and looked around, and saw a Bar.

“You can just kill me right now, but I'm going to have a drink.” Deadshot walked off and Harley follows.

“Hey, Deadshot, I need your help.” Flag pleads, but flint shook his head

“No, sir. You need a miracle.” Deadshot and the others head in, Red Hood was the last to leave and looks Flag up and down. “Might as well call the big man in the sky for that.” He gave one last stinger and walked into the bar, he saw the others enjoying their drinks and slumped in a seat next to Deadshot. Harley was tending and eyed the man.

“Oh, Dead Hood.” Harley still has a pretty sharp bone to pick with him.

“Not my name…” he responded and Deadshot looks around.

“Well, we almost pulled it off despite what everybody thought.”

“We weren’t picked to succeed..” Diablo chimes in, and Deadshot agrees, “Worst part of it is, they're going to blame us for the whole thing. And they can't have people knowing the truth. We're the patsies. The cover-up. Don't forget, we're the bad guys. And, uh, for about two sweet seconds, I had hope.” Deadshot flushed down his drink.

“You had hope, huh? Hope don't stop the wheel from turning, my brother.” Diablo looks at the empty shot glass before him

“You preaching?”

“It's coming back around for you. How many people you killed, man?” Diablo asks Deadshot, who admittedly probably doesn’t even know, the bodies left in his wake. “It’s Karma for us, especially for me..” he continued

“See, I was born with the Devil's gift. I kept it hidden for most of my life, but... The older I got, the stronger it got. So I started using it. For business, you know. The more power on the street I got, the more fire power I got. Like, that shit went hand in hand. You know? One was feeding the other. Ain't nobody tell me no. Except my old lady. You know, she used to pray for me. Even when I didn't want it. God didn't give me this. Why should he take it away? See, when I get mad, I lose control. You know, I just... I don't know what I do..till it's done.” Diablo made a woman of fire in his hand.. and snuffed out her flame, Red listened, memories of his own father flooding on.

“And the kids?” Boomerang asked, fearful himself.

“He killed them.” Red spoke up, and he took off his helmet to reveal his face and sighed. “I remember…” Red stopped talking and shut up, almost revealing his other identity, but Harley wasn’t up for silence.

“Own that shit. Own it! What'd you think was gonna happen? Huh?” She said to Diablo.

“Hey, Harley. Come on.”

“What, you were just... Thinking you can have a happy family and coach little leagues, and make car payments? Normal's a setting on the dryer. People like us, we don't get normal!” She yelled, and Boomerang sharply put his glass down.

“Why is it always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth? You know, outside you're amazing. But inside, you're ugly. We all are.” He said, and Red piped up. “.. So, you just.. willow in that hole?” He started and stood up, he walked over to Diablo as everyone watched. “You kill your wife and kids and you think you deserve a cell for the rest of your life? Feeling sorry for yourself? I got a temper too so I understand, but you’re still in control of your actions.” Red turned to Harley.

“You know why I shot your chopper down?” He asked, everyone really leans in now. Red shows the J scar on his cheek, “see who I got this from?” He said, and Harley began to remember. “You’re—“

“I was.. Robin. I probably helped put a few of you in prison. I went after Joker by myself one time. Didn’t think Batman understood.. and my temper got me. He.. beat me, for days, starved, tortured me, and once in a while, I saw you in the corner, laughing. And when he finished, he blew me to pieces.. I was fourteen. Lazus pit.. Now look at me. This, was my choice... Now I gotta live with it. Same way you gotta live with it.” (Y/n) walked back to his seat, and slumped down.

Everyone was silent, he felt a glass tap his finger and he looked up to Harley give what he can only assume is an apology whiskey. “Mista J is.. not the best when it comes to dealing with kids. I guess I’m not either, maybe you were right when you said that.. maybe I’m just another victim, I mean what lady watches a man beat a.. teenager.” She said to herself, Red took it and downed it effortlessly. “I’m twenty two now, not a teenager anymore.”

For a moment it seemed the two can actually form a decent but obviously volatile relationship, but then, Flag enters the Bar and slumps down next to Red.

“We don't want you here.” Harley frowns, and Flag looks at Red, “You get to the part in that binder saying I was sleeping with her?” He said, Red raises an eyebrow. “Nope, I never been with a witch before. What's it like? I mean I’ve flirted with death before but I don’t go that far.” Red shrugged and Deadshot leaned to see Flag.

“Apparently, that's why the creatures chase him all the time. 'Cause the witch is scared of him.” He chuckled, but Flag shook his head, pain in his voice.

“The only woman I ever cared about is trapped inside that monster. If I don't stop the witch, it's over. Everything is over. Everything. You're free to go.” Flag smashes the device and breaks it, and Boomerage makes a break for it. Red sighs and turns to Flag. “Your girlfriend is going to destroy the world, isn’t she?” He asked, Flag was silent and Red put the mask Back on and gripped his pistols. “Well.. fuck it.” Red stood up. “Let’s go Flag.. least you can say you died tying.” Red walked away, and everyone watched him, and Deadshot sighed and stood up and followed out, Red peeked back in.

“Yo Harley, you coming?” He asked, she shrugged and grabbed her baseball bat. “Don’t have anything else better to do.” She said and followed, everyone now filled with a bit of nepotistic energy follow, if they head into the abyss, at least they go in screaming. flag has the back of the squad, even if they’re “Criminals.” And Captian Boomerang comes back, like a, Boomerang.

Outside the large square, the squad now prep for the final assault, Red tossing a camera to a wall and using his visor to look around, “looks like there’s a woman.. and a massive guy next to her, that’s our targets?”

“Yeah. It isn’t going to be easy getting to her, I did leave a big demo charge down there in that subway. There's a flooded tunnel, leads right underneath that building. SEALs, they can recover the charge, swim in underneath that thing's feet. We get in its face and distract the hell out of that son of a bitch so the swimmers can blow the bomb. That's how we take it out.” Flag gives a solid plan. Croc pipes up

“I'm going with ya.” He spoke to the SEALS, as if they had some choice.

“We got this.” One said, and croc tore off his upper shirt and jacket. “I'm not asking, bro. I live underground. Y'all are just tourists.” Croc and the seals swim in the flooded subway and the main squad prepare for a literal suicide mission. They walked along the subway and corpses strung the pillars. Blood and black ooze follow. They reach the central station platform. Inside felt like a theatre of darkness, whatever dark magic she was conjuring.

“Hey, everyone can see all this trippy magic stuff, right?” Harley asks

“Yeah. Why?” Red replies.

“I'm off my meds.” She weakly smiled. Deadshot and Flag look to the center, of Enchantress continuing to open the

“So that's your old lady?” Deadshot nods in approval.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you need to handle this shit, all right? Get up there, smack on her ass, tell her, "Knock this shit off." Deadshot said, which flag couldn’t tell if he was being serious it not.

“I do not think that'd be wise. I'm gonna draw out the big one. My boys will detonate the bomb underneath him.” Flag gives the order but before they step out, Enchantress calls out to them.

“I've been waiting for you all night. Step out of the shadows. I won't bite. Why are you here? Because the soldier led you? And all for Waller. Why do you serve those who cage you? I am your ally. And I know what you want.” The woman calls out, and begins to show the squad their true dreams, what they truly wish for, Deadshot to rewrite that day, Harley., a family. And (Y/n), who stood across Bruce with a smile, as he’s still Robin.

“Alright Bruce.. what’s on tonight?”

“Patrol, Arkham’s never safe.” He said sternly, (Y/n) gave a smirk and nodded. He felt the suddenly jank of reality, Red saw Diablo in his face.

“It's not real. She trying to play games with you, man. - It's not real!” He yells to all of them, who slowly come down from their dream, and step out to face enchantress. She sees her tricks didn’t work, and frowns.

“The sun is setting, and the magic rises. The metahumans are a sign of change.” Enchantress saw their minds aren’t changing now, and casted a spell, stomping from the back the larger monster approached.

“Who's this?”

“It's gonna be bad!”

“We should run.”

Red Didn’t take advice well and charges in, leaping past its tendrils and firing off his rounds, it began to bend the mental skin and make the monster cry out. He leaped onto its back and slammed an explosive charge on it, he hurls red hood off of him. Deadshot takes aim and hits the explosive dead on, but no effect! Boomerang hurls his boomerangs that do not to stop it, the monster grabs the Australian by the neck and prepares to turn him as well. Kitana leaps off a counter and slices the hand off with a clean cut, only for the Mayan grow it back, bullets and explosives only infuriate it. Before Harley can get crushed by the Mayan for a bat swing, Red fires his grappling hook to her shirt and reels her to safety.

“We can get him in the corner.” Red pops off more shots, and Diablo steps up!

“I lost one family. I ain't gonna lose another one. I got this. Let me show you what I really am.” Diablo rushed forward and blast a bellow of flames at it, only to infuriate the monster who kicks him away. It awaken the true El Diablo! His body underwent a harrowing transformation into El Diablo! The meta human battles with the Mayan. Pushing him to the edge he and the Mayan are right at the corner

“Diablo, get clear! Get outta there!” Flag yells, the Meta turns to them, “Blow it!” He orders, and Red watched The Mayan and Diablo go up in smoke and rubble in the explosion. He laid for it.. he lived. And died with his choice. Red stood up and walked to the hole, but he forgot that this battle was far from over, Enchantress still had her power.

“My spell is complete. Once you and your armies are gone, my darkness will spread across this world. And it will be mine to rule.” Enchantress activated her portal, which begins to tear the world apart. And the true enchantress escapes, her body devoid of color, black, like the ooze leaking from all she touches, and she attacks them, their bullets, blades, nothing can harm her!

“You got a move here, Flag?” Red tackled flag out of the way from getting his head taken off.

“We gotta cut her heart out. While we're fighting, that thing's laying waste to the whole damn world.” Flag said, “You guys have any plans on cutting her heart out?”

“I got one..” Red said. “How long have you been thinking about it?” Harley adds in.

“Maybe five minutes..” Red begins to try something, anything, tapping into the power of the Lazuris pit and felt a heartbeat within it all. A hilt of pure red energy began to emit from his heart. He gripped the handle with both palms and pulled it from him, a red blade of energy was now his. “Huh, this might work.. I cut her chest open and you guys tear the heart!” Red gives the order and charges in, Enchantress swings and fires magic, Red put the blade up and it began to deflect the magic, he leapt forward with a slash and fought Enchantress in the arm. It cut her body made of magic. Her body couldn’t heal from it, the scar emitting a red haze. She looked up worried and Red begins to put more pressure on her, and catches her right on the chest with an upward slash, Enchantress screams in pain, and the squad see the chance, Harley, Deadshot, Kitana and Boomerag grab her arms and legs and flag comes from behind. Just for the moment Enchantress was taken aback, and Red goes in with a blade straight though her heart. Time slows down as the enchantress blinked. The light leaving her eyes in a flash the eruption of light left the station and the bleak sun shined though, and June was right before Red. Confused and why a sword was though her body Which disappeared. Flag realized that his June was back, and hugged her. I suppose it was a happy ending

“Y'all don't mind, I got me a sewer to crawl back into.” Croc turns to leave and Red sighed and turned to the front, “Yeah, and I got some business to handle back in Gotham.” Red dusts himself off

“I'm going to hotwire a car. Need a ride?” Harley offered, but before he can reply, Waller, who’s somehow still alive steps out with her explosive device.

“How are you not dead?” Deadshot said in disbelief. “We just saved the world. A "thank you" would be nice.” Harley spoke, and Waller tilts her head “Thank you.” She said sarcastically, “You're welcome.” Harley replies with a smile.

“So, we did all of this and we don't get shit?”

“Ten years off your prison sentences.”

“Nah, that's not enough. I'm seeing my daughter.” Deadshot kept his eyes locked on Waller who reluctantly agreed.

“That can be arranged. Any other requests?” “An espresso machine.” Harley said

“…BET.” croc nods, and Boomerang scoffs.

“Ten years off a triple life sentence? Darling, I'm walking out of here a free man or we're going to start having some real fun.” He approaches Waller, who coldly stepped up to Boomerang. “Why don't we have some fun?” She replies scaring the piss out of the Captian. Red shrugged, he got his revenge after all.

Back at Belle Reeve, (Y/n) sits in his cell, footsteps echo from the Door and he cracks his knuckles, ready to fight.

“Whoever it is… gonna put.. 14 in the ICU.” He said, and the voice of God, Waller spoke to him. “That won’t be needed, you’re getting released.”

“…What?” He stood up from his bed, staring at the Door expecting death, what opened was something much more than that, he could only muster one word

“…Bruce?”

@henkermen

#male reader #suicide squad #harley quinn x male reader #harley x reader #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn #suicide squad X male reader #ornii

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thelovelylolly · 7 months

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Moments On Pabu

Summary: You watch the sunset with Tech Warnings: reader is described as short and smaller than Tech Word Count: 780 Notes: season 3 has broken me and we're only 3 episodes in IM SCARED i have theories and im convincing myself tech is alive (because he is wdym hes dead?) i have so many thoughts its insane (also this may become a lil series idk)

Sunset was the best time on Pabu. Ever since you befriended Phee and she showed you Pabu, you made sure to watch the sunset every night. You made routines and plans around it. With the galaxy at war with itself almost constantly and your life being turbulent before coming to Pabu, the sunset gave you peace and a sense of stability. Things may change around you, but you will always have the sunset.

Phee introduced you to the Bad Batch when they first arrived on the island, and you instantly clicked with Tech. It was a silent connection, but when he smiled back at you, you knew you were going to like him.

He was more reserved compared to his brothers and sister, but he quickly opened up as time went on. You loved listening to him ramble about anything that piqued his interest. You two tended to gravitate to each other, naturally sitting next to each other at gatherings or finding each other around the island and walking together.

That led to you asking Tech if he'd like to join you to watch the sunset.

"Where would we watch it?" He asked in reply to your question. "The beaches and docks tend to be a bit crowded during that time, and I don't particularly enjoy those kinds of situations."

"Don't worry about it, I know a spot where it'll be just us," you quickly replied. "I don't mind if you don't want to go, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

He thought for a moment, then gave you a small smile. "I suggest we leave now so we don't miss it."

You smiled and took his hand in yours, leading him down the winding paths of the island. You had found the alcove one day when wondering the island, and no one else knew of it. Or at least, they didn't go there.

Tech's eyes widened a bit when you two arrived at the empty beach. The blue waves gently lapped at the shore, filling the alcove with the soft sound of waves crashing. The setting sun made the horizon a beautiful, bright orange while the rest of the sky was still a light blue. You led him closer to the water, showing the setting sun to your left.

"This is a beautiful beach," Tech commented before looking at you, "no one else has found it yet?"

You shook your head with a smile. "Not yet. I usually come here by myself when things get too much or to just watch the sunset. I don't bring anyone here. Well, except for you now."

You noticed how his cheeks turned pink before he looked away.

"I feel honored that I am the first person you brought down here," eh said softly.

Now you felt your cheeks heat up, a contrast to the cool sea breeze. You ignored it, instead taking your shoes off and placing them in the sand. You walked closer to the water, stopping when it just covered your feet. You turned and looked back at Tech, who was watching you.

"C'mon, it's just a little bit cold," you called with a smile.

He returned it and quickly followed your lead. He took his shoes off and joined you in the shallow water. The sun dipped lower and lower as the minutes ticked past. You two watched it from your spots in the water, letting the waves splash against your feet and onto your lower legs.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. The peace of sunset by the ocean always made you happy, and Tech made it so much better.

When you opened your eyes and looked back down, you caught Tech looking at you. You smiled, squinting a bit when the sun got in your eye.

"What is it?" You asked.

"I-it's nothing," he answered, "you just look very...peaceful. And happy."

"I am, but I think I'm really happy because you're here with me," you replied. You reached for his hand and gently took it in yours. "You wanna take a walk down the shore?"

He smiled, ignoring the way his cheeks continued to heat up. He intertwined his fingers with yours. "I would like that very much."

You led him down the shoreline, keeping your feet in the water. You two walked hand-in-hand as the sun continued to set. You glanced over at him and saw him bathed in the golden light from the setting sun. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you looked away, continuing down the shore.

You liked the quiet moments on Pabu, but you liked them more with Tech by your side.

#im very normal about season 3 wdym #tech x reader #tech the bad batch #tech x you #the bad batch tech #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #tbb tech #tech tbb #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

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magics-neptunes-things · 6 months

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One Love (5)

Hi guys!

This is another part from my Luna's serie, One Love. It's from some request of some of them, please don't hesitate to ask me if you want something :)

(1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8)

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“Are you writing to Lucy again?!”

Laia’s voice makes Ona almost jump, not expecting her best friend to be as close as she is right now. In fact, she’s sitting in the armchair next to Ona.

“What the hell Laia” Ona grumbles, not answering her question.

Because of course she was. Can anyone blame her? When she’s at home, she has her girlfriend next to her almost every second of the day. Now they are apart for more than ten days and it feels like hell.

“Of course she is” Salma grins, sitting on the other side of Ona.

Ona rolls her eyes, answering to Lucy’s text anyway, making the two other girls smile at each other. They both love Ona, they are actually very fond of seeing her friend as happy as Ona seems to be.

“And you just see how much she is writing to her. You don’t have her looking at Lucy with her heart eyes all day” Salma add.

She’s still smirking, laughing when Ona raises on her a dirty glare.

“I don’t have heart eyes for her all day.”

“Don’t worry, I think it’s cute. I’m sure Lucy thinks the same thing.”

Ona hit Salma’s shoulder this time. She wanted to go for her head, but the striker change wisely her position to be as far as Ona as possible.

“Don’t be like that, Onita. You know that we are actually very happy for you.”

Ona rolls her eyes one more time, unable to hide her smile. She is happy, she even said it in one interview the other day. She doesn’t like to talk about her private life and she didn’t gave any indication about her love for Lucy, but she still said that she is happy. Ona knows that Lucy had read the interview.

“I am happy” Ona mumbles, laying on Laia shoulder while sticking out her thong to Salma.

The younger woman snorts at Ona.

“You never fight?” Laia asks with curiosity.

Ona shakes her head honestly. She knows that only a few people would believe her, after all Lucy and her have both a strong head. But they decided very soon in her relationship to favor discussions.

“That’s true” says Salma. “I’ve never heard one of them talking bad at the other.”

“We only had one fight to be honest.” Ona says thoughtfully.

“What was it about?”

********

Ona doesn’t know how this fight has started, to be honest. They were at the game this afternoon, they won and even if Lucy received a yellow card, it was a good game. After the fans’ meeting and the shower, they went home. Ona was hopping to eat some sushi, cuddle with her girlfriend and their dogs before falling asleep in front of a movie they will take forever to choose.

But it seems like everything went wrong. Lucy was kind of moody when they left the stadium and even if Ona asked her several times what was happening, she only had the answer “I’m fine.”. But Lucy wasn’t, she kept looking right in front of her while driving, not even looking one time at her girlfriend.

The small talk that Ona tried to make wasn’t working either. She just putted some music on and kept looking by the window. Unlike she usually did, Lucy doesn’t open her the car door and even if Ona was saying at first that she can do it herself, she started liking when Lucy does it.

When Lucy plops on her sofa without looking at her, scrolling on her phone with a tightened jaw, it was too much for Ona. She hates fighting, she always tries to find a way to make things better for everyone without having a beef. But right now, it’s too much.

“Lucy?”

No answer.

“Lucy!”

Still no answer. And Ona takes a big breath before walking in her direction to snatch her phone from her hand.

“Can you at least answer me?!”

“Give me my phone back.”

Lucy’s tone is cold, and Ona hates it. But she stands her ground, hiding the phone behind her back. Of course, she knew that Lucy would get mad. But a least she maybe will tell her what the hell is happening.

“No. Talk to me, what’s happening?”

“Nothing Ona, for God’s sake! Give me my phone back!”

The English woman raise her voice and Ona flinch while the dogs hurry to leave the living room. Lucy doesn’t mean to snap at her girlfriend who only seems to want to make things better. But she’s stubborn, hate to talk about her feelings and she’s tired. And mad, but Ona still doesn’t know why.

“Stop acting like a moody teenager Lucy, talk to me please.”

But Lucy thought that it was too late. The fight has already started, Ona is already pissed and herself is already boiling inside. So, she gets up from the couch, passing next to her girlfriend to go to the kitchen.

“You know what? Go to hell.” she mumbles.

In a typical teenage fashion. Feeling that her composure is starting to break, Ona closes her eyes for some seconds and takes a big, silenced breath.

“I don’t understand what is happening, Luce.”

“Why don’t you go ask your best friend? Or is she already gone back to San Sebastian?”

The answer came but it’s nothing that Ona was thinking about. She needs some more seconds, but this time it was to figure out what it was about.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Her best friend is Laia Aleixandri who is definitively at Manchester right now. So, there is no way that Lucy is talking about her and why the hell would Laia makes in their relationship problems? Her and Lucy went along great.

“Oh please.” Lucy is in the kitchen, looking at her through the opening of the door and she raises her voice again. “Don’t tell me it was nothing, I saw the way you hug each other. Everyone else saw it.”

Ona is so surprised that she wants to laugh. Thanks god, her rational part tells her that it’s maybe not the right thing to do.

“She’s a friend. We played together at la Misa when we were younger.”

Lucy snorts and answer something like “Yeah sure” and that makes Ona gone mad too. She knows that her girlfriend is mad, but her cockiness starts to get on her nerves. Especially when the English woman doesn’t make any move to try to make things better between them.

It was this time Ona’s turn to shout.

“Who do you think I am exactly? It was a damn hug Lucy, not a making out session!”

Lucy bites her tongue hard to not answer at that. She knows that otherwise; she will answer things that she doesn’t think and that she will hurt Ona. And even if she’s mad about that girl, the yellow card and almost everything, she doesn’t want to hurt the younger girl.

But Lucy’s silence wasn’t helping, and Ona assumes what everyone would assume.

“Glad to learn how you think about me.”

She was cold too, now hurt. She feels her tears coming and there is no way that Lucy sees her like this. Ona hates being angry because she always ends crying and losing all her credits. So she goes to the bathroom, slamming the door for good measure.

“Shit” sights Lucy, pinching her nose.

********

During the next hour, there is almost no sound in the flat. Ona stayed in the bathroom and then in the bedroom. She regrets her choice, because everything smells like Lucy and remember her their fight. This is their first real fight, they had misunderstood or disagreements, but never that way.

She cried a little (a lot) and after that she used some cold water to make her face a little less red and puffy. After that she was hopping to be able to have some cuddles with her dog, but Coco is nowhere to be found. She frowns when she calls him one time and a second without him coming running like crazy.

She hesitates to go find him, but after twenty minutes, she stands slowly from the bed. When she’s lying on it, he will run to her to cuddle with her. They make the dogs sleep in the living room so every second stolen with one of them on the bed is precious to him.

“Coco?” she calls again at the door of the room.

She waits and listen to any sound indicating the dog’s arrival, but still nothing. At first Ona thinks that he might be angry at her too and she almost cry again. But she thinks better and goes discreetly to the living room. She perks in the room carefully, not wanting for Lucy to see her. Narla is curling against her Mama’s tight, but there is no sight of Coco.

So she goes to the bathroom, to the entry, to the guest room and the kitchen. But still no Coco. And Ona starts to get really worried. Her last chance is the balcony, but she has to cross the living room to go to it. Sighing, she decided to ignore Lucy’s presence, still very mad at her. And hurt, too maybe. Anyway, she really doesn’t want to talk to her right now.

She feels Lucy gaze following her when she crosses the room but doesn’t look at her. Coco isn’t on the balcony and Ona isn’t far for a break down. She sniffs while closing the balcony’s door and that’s what alert Lucy.

“What are you looking for?”

Lucy’s voice returned to her normal tone and Ona takes a shacky breath before answering.

“I can’t find Coco” she mumbles without looking at her.

“What do you mean you can’t find Coco?” Lucy frowns.

“I can’t find Coco Lucy, what don’t you understand?” she shouts, losing it and turning to Lucy. “What do you want me to say? I enjoy touching other women in public and I’m not even able to take care the dog you offered me.”

Lucy has never seen Ona like this. Her red and puffy eyes are full of tears, some of them running freely on her cheeks. She’s shouting again, and Lucy feels her heart crack. She stands from the couch, Narla looking at them from it.

Coco is a gift from Lucy to Ona, that’s right. She gave him to Ona for their ten month’s anniversary but it was honestly only a pretext. Ona had always told her how much she missed the dog she had when she was younger and that she never took another one because she wasn’t at home enough. And at Manchester it wouldn’t have made any sense because she was looking to come back to Barcelona soon.

“He can’t be far away.” she says, making Ona shrugs.

Lucy’s voice is soft now, she fully regrets the fight they had sooner, her behavior and the way she talked to Ona. She doesn’t know how the Spaniard would react to a physical touch from her, but she decides to try anyway. Fingers crossed, she softly takes Ona by the hand before taking her against her to hug her. She breaths again when Ona immediately cuddles against her, hiding her face in her neck.

“Come on. I’ll help you to look at him ok?”

The younger girl nod and follows Lucy in the same rooms that she was before. They finish by the bedroom, but Lucy has to admit that the dog isn’t here too.

“I’ll go take the biscuits” Ona mumbles.

Coco’s weakness. If the dog is in the flat, he will come running. Lucy sighs and sits on the bed, looking at the tissues Ona used to dry her tears with culpability. That’s when she hears a little sound, coming from under the bed. Frowning, she gets up from it to lay down on the floor and looking under the bed. She’s now facing Coco eyes, looking at her.

“Ona? He’s here”

Two seconds later, Ona is in the bedroom with the biscuits’ packet in her hand. With precaution she makes Coco get out from under the bed, before hugging him tight in her arms, her nose in his hairs.

“Why where you hiding here?” she whispers while to dog is licking at her hands.

He licks her face too, making her grimacing. Ona hates when he does it, but he loves it. Lucy can only smile in front of Ona’s face and the way Coco looks at the biscuits with interest. Ona gives him one and Coco takes it before leaving for the living room, leaving the two women alone.

Ona’s small smile fades and she gets up to follow her dog, but Lucy catches her hand before.

“Ona, wait please” the English woman says. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I was jealous, and stupid and I wasn’t thinking straight. Can you please forgive me?”

Ona rubs her eyes before sighing softy. She’s exhausted to be honest, there was a little too many emotions to deal with for only one night.

“Why in the world would I go for someone else in front of you?”

“I was jealous Ona, that’s all. It was stupid of myself. I’m really sorry.”

“But I don’t understand. We are together almost every second of the day and you know that it’s a torture when we are apart. Why are you jealous? I’m yours, no one else.”

Lucy sighs and sits on the bed, not really fond of the idea of having this discussion now, but she can’t escape it. Not when she had that kind of behavior, not answering wouldn’t be fair to Ona.

“I don’t know. She has your age, doesn’t have constant surgery to fix her knee and she will be playing as long as you. The life we have now won’t last forever, but it would be longer if I was younger.”

Frowning, Ona sits on the bed next to Lucy.

“I know it won’t last forever, but we will have other things to live together after that. I don’t care about your age Lucy, I never had. And I never will. I fell in love with Lucia, not Lucy Bronze the amazing football player.”

Lucy rolls her eyes with a smirk, but Ona’s answer is good to hear. Ona could literally have any other girl if she wanted to, it sometimes doesn’t make sense for the English woman that she chooses to stay with her.

“You didn’t answer me before…”

“About what?” Ona asks, tilting her head.

“Can you forgive me?”

She’s biting her bottom lip, looking at Ona with her eyes full of sincerity and somehow a little of fear? Ona isn’t sure but she only needs to look at her girlfriend for some seconds before answering.

“I forgive you. But you have to talk to me when something isn’t right, Love. I don’t want to fight like this again.”

“I promise” Lucy answers, reaching for her girlfriend.

Ona lean in and Lucy envelops her immediately with her arm. Closing her eyes, she breaths Ona’s sent before hiding her face in the younger one’s hair.

“I’m sorry I made you cry” Lucy mumble against Ona’s hair.

Ona hums softly, before looking up at her.

“Kiss me better?”

Lucy laughs, not regretting slightly having learned this expression to Ona in the beginning of their relationship. Ona knows when using it very well. The dark-haired woman kiss Ona’s lips softly several times, keeping her tight against her. She kisses her face soon after, very part of it, punctuating her kisses with “I love you”.

Some minutes after, she has a giggling Ona in her arms, and she feels her heart melt. Ona is her miracle, coming in her life when she felt like everything was falling apart. Ona flipped her world upside down, but everything makes sense since Her. She can’t lose her.

********

“Even your fights are cute. I’ve never felt so single in my life” Salma sighs, making the two others girl laughs.

A notification from her phone makes Ona’s hand vibrate and the Catalan girl looks at it. It’s a notification from Instagram, Lucy apparently just posted a picture.

“Holy fuck” Ona mumbles while looking at it.

Lucy, looking straight to the camera, her hair down and arm in full display. She knows very well what she’s doing, Ona mentioning yesterday night during their phone call how she’s still destabilized sometimes when Lucy looks at her so intensely. Without thinking, she likes the pictures and received a teasing text from Lucy almost right after.

“Such a tease” Ona mumbles to herself, before looking at her friends again. “Can I have your opinion about something?”

********

Lucy is taking her breakfast, like almost always with her headphones and her music on. Some girls say she is asocial, but she needs that to be in a good shape for the rest of the day. She was sipping at her coffee when she received a notification from Ona.

And she spits her coffee.

“What the hell mate?”

She raises her face on Lauren James in front of her, without answering anything and looks back at her phone. She doesn’t hear LJ groans something about being aggressive soon in the morning, only focused on Ona’s message. Or picture, she just sent her.

A mirror selfie isn’t something rare for Ona, but a mirror selfie with almost nothing on her, it’s like a first.

From Lucy What the hell You’re killing me

From Ona Just thought it would be fair to thanks you for you picture yesterday. Too bad it wasn’t only for me though.

Lucy answered something after that, but she doesn’t take her chance to answer her for now. It’s hard to say which one of the two really started this war, but it has been a ping pong of photos and video, by messages or Instagram sometimes. The fans don’t seem to understand what was really happening, but Lucy and Ona did. And they can say that they have fun.

Several days later, Lucy is waiting for Ona in their house. They came back from the camp, Lucy being earlier even if she was literally in another country. They have to take back their dogs from Ona’s parents, but they will go tomorrow. Right now, honestly, Lucy doesn’t want anything but cuddle with her girlfriend.

Ona arrives at the end of the afternoon, looking a little tired but the smile she puts on her face when she spots Lucy waiting for her in the entrance is beautiful. She lets her bags fall on the floor, raise her hand to put them around Lucy’s neck when she comes for her and let her hugs her. And make her levitate a little, making her giggle.

“I missed your laugh” Lucy smile against her neck, hugging her even harder. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too” Ona mumble back.

Then Lucy puts her back on the ground and kisses her right on the lips, several time, before Ona tightens her hold around her neck to keep her against her. Lucy smiles against her lips but let her, letting herself enjoying their reunion.

“It’s great to have you in front of me for real and not in a teasing picture” Lucy smirks, some minutes later, when they are cuddling on their sofa.

“It was your fault. You started it” Ona rolls her eyes.

“Me?! I haven’t done anything! You started with your almost naked picture.”

Ona snorts and raise her eyebrow, making Lucy laughs slightly. But she doesn’t want to abdicate so soon, so she shrugs.

“What?”

“I know what. You posted that amazing picture of yourself the day before that.”

“It was just a casual picture. Not my fault if you fancy me as much.”

The sassy comment makes Ona try to hit her, but Lucy is faster and grabs her hands. With it, she takes Ona closer to her, smirking again.

“I love that you fancy me, though.”

She tries to kiss her, but Ona turns her face to make her lips kiss her cheeks instead.

“Ona” Lucy frowns.

But it was Ona’s turn to be sassy, turning her head at the last moment when Lucy try to kiss her again and again.

“Come on, just kiss me” she whines at her fourth attempt.

“Who’s the one fancying the other now?” Ona smirks.

Lucy sighs excessively, knowing that she won’t have the last word this time. Rolling her eyes, she pouts while talking.

“Ok I fancy you too. And maybe I posted this picture to tease you. May I have my kiss now?”

“Yes, you can.”

Ona laughs, making Lucy smiles, before she leans in to kiss her. Lucy is right, after all the teasing and the being away thing, being together again is the best feeling ever.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle #luna

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zetomato · 10 months

Text

The three states of QSMP play

I’m back for another neutral take (I know no one can be truly neutral, but I am ignoring my bias here alright? Good? Good.) linked to the QSMP! This time, with various kinds of plays on this server.

So. People talk a lot about “This one is always in RP-mode” and “This one doesn’t RP at all” etc. these days. But let’s break this down a bit, shall we?

Upon my many years of watching Minecraft server RP (aka, like 3 years, not that many but eh, they count), I’ve noticed something interesting in the way players interacted with the story line and their characters. In this analysis, I’ll focus on QSMP since it’s one server where players have said explicitly that they have “Characters” that they play. So let’s jump into this.

The first mode: Out-Of-RP (I’ll call it OORP)

This, despite what’s expected, is the least used by almost everybody on the QSMP (yes, yes, surprising for a few watchers, but let me explain). The OORP mode is one I define as: “When the Content Creator is fully out of game” This includes when anyone leaves their computer to go to the bathroom, when they mute themselves to reassure their chat that they’re doing intense RP and do not actually hate the others, when they talk about when they met in person (In Brazil, Paris, Vegas, etc). This is the mode where the things talked about are not linked at all to what would be happening right at this moment RP-wise.

The second mode: RP

This is what happens 90% of the time for most of the server. They do not have to actively be talking about their Lore, they can be building and talking to their chat about what’s happening, how the eggs are doing, what another character has said to them, etc. I define it as “When the Content Creator is playing their character”. The level of intensity varies between creators, but mostly, it is a very chill play. They sometimes are in that mode while huge Lore is happening and they aren’t super into it at the moment. They could be helping out, but they won’t react much to big events and might even distance themselves from the loudest people in the room. We saw that when BBH showed up with his amnesia RP when they got back to the server post Purgatory and Etoiles went OORP for a moment to say he was too tired to RP but still hang out with Bagi and BBH until he got too exhausted for the high-intensity of the scene and backed off. He was in RP mode when he cracked jokes and asked questions and answered Bagi’s worries, but he was way too exhausted to match the intensity of BBH. We saw that in multiple different exchanges and, yep! That’s RP still! It’s just easier to see the extravagant one when the other is more mellow, even if both are playing their characters.

The third and last mode: LORE

Alright, this one is very easy and yet I wanna describe it to be sure everyone’s on the same page. This one is “When the content creator is fully immersed and playing into his character about the events of the story.”. Now this one is tricky to distinguish from RP for some people/characters. For Philza, for exemple, when he goes into his “LORE Mode”, he changes the camera, the screen, the sounds, etc. Not all of the time, but it’s when it’s most visible. Almost everyone goes into LORE mode when something huge happens (Finding the eggs in Purgatory, meeting an important NPC, having their character Lore revealed, etc.) We saw this often during the Lore drops. When Baghera shared her Background in the federation, when Philza went to the Birdhouse, when Forever and Pac had their Happy Pills arc, when BBH played his grief when the eggs disappeared and when he came out of Purgatory… All of these were and are Lore moments which are easy to spot.

The problem with these is…

No one can watch absolutely everyone on the server. If not for the language barrier (Especially when some players’ translation breaks or when they do not put it on (that’s more of a problem considering the goal of multilingual conversation on the server)), for the sheer time needed to follow that. But this means that people will miss out on character LORE and RP for sure. People who don’t understand French will be lost when the French Content Creators mute themselves to point out something to their chat while speaking French. People who don’t understand Portuguese will be lost when watching Bagi and she starts speaking too fast to get a good translation. People who don’t understand Spanish will be lost when Mariana shows up and forget to properly set his translation after he speaks English for a while. People who don’t understand English will be lost when someone doesn’t set their translation when they start chatting around in English. And it is things that will and have happened. I know more Lore about Etoiles than some friends of mine because I don’t miss anything when he switches to French while in RP. Sometimes it's not a question of trying, it's a question of language barrier!

The real problem is actually when people start defining what constitutes the three modes by the way one or two Content Creators do them. No two have the same RP mode, the same LORE mode. Some are very intense on their RP so they go into LORE very smoothly, some are just as smooth but because both of these are more subtle. This server has a lot of people talking to each other for hours being in RP mode but since they don’t start doing LORE mode (which is more obvious), it passes over some people’s head that they are doing RP.

It’s a bit sad to follow someone for a while, following their POV, knowing how much they put into their character and how much they RP with the content they make. And then get someone who’s way more used to a brighter more obvious RP say that the creator you follow doesn’t do shit. It’s ok and expected to have many kinds! Heck! It’s great that we do! Or else the number of viewers would be lower. This way, people who like more intensive and noticeable RP and chaos can go towards the ones who give them that, and the viewers that prefer a more subtle approach where the big things are actually less noticeable, they can watch exactly that!

I won’t lie, I am enjoying the mellow side more than the energized one. I like to be able to work while I watch a stream, I’m able to when it’s two hours of building, or just people going across the map to find a dungeon. Purgatory, even while watching only one team most of the time, was way too exhausting for me, even if I had fun watching it and gosh every big event was nerve wracking, it was too much for me. I was glad to take a few days break for a while and, I will say it, BBH’s impressive intensive amnesia RP, viewed from Etoiles’ POV I was watching, drained me way faster than anything else. And you know what? That’s great! Because it means that people who love that kind of intensity are getting FED and that’s so cool.

Bottom line

I am begging for people to respect the fact that no two people have the same kind of play and RP. I have absolutely nothing against any personal preference since I know that what I enjoy makes other people fully bored, but words matter. No one out there should be going around saying “This CC’s RP suck! They don’t even do any!” when it just isn’t true. “This CC’s RP is way too subtle for me, I don’t even feel like they do any” THAT is a good take. If I agree or not with it, it doesn’t matter, but people are getting way too comfortable sharing their personal feelings as facts and that is why we slide into toxicity and anger towards each other. I personally don’t vibe with BBH’s more intense RP. And? It’s far from being bad RP, it’s just not my cup of tea!

TL:DR;

There are 3 Modes: Out-Of-RP which is fully meta, RP which is being in-character, and LORE which is being very intensively in character linked to events. No two streamers on the QSMP have the same level of intensity in RP and LORE and that is perfectly fine. Just don’t spread your preferences as if they were facts, it’s what feeds toxic exchanges and it can be fixed really easily by changing how you bring things to the table.

Thanks for taking time to read!

#QSMP #Another Ze rant #It's so easy to see where people start getting angry at each other #I am begging you #I tell kids way too often to use the 'I like' and 'I don't like' when they talk about anything with strong feelings #I do believe Tumblr can be better than Twitter and rant without attacking everyone who like what they don't

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elysiumblue · 1 year

Text

Pick a card - How you view yourself VS How others view you 😳

It's me with another pick a card general reading 😬 Decided to do a topic more that is more general to see what message will come through. The context of the reading is just as the topic. The spread I used is here.

This time, some message is really specific, so don't force it to fit your situation if it doesn't resonate at all. I may need to consider doing more piles next time to get more general messages 😭

👇🏻 Anyway, pick a color that you felt drawn to. 👇🏻

And find the corresponding reading for you below!

Pile 1

It seems that you have self esteem issues. You believe that you are less than others, but you are not working on bettering yourself. Instead, you are putting almost all your energy to comparing yourself to others, finding out how others are better than you. This puts yourself deeper in the problem. The lack of self esteem also makes it very difficult for you to make decisions, as you are always doubting yourself. You tend to wait for others to plan out your life.

Such problem may seems to be impossible to solve in your eyes, but others can see that such problem is not as worse as you think. They believe that it is more like an illusion, and you have the power to get out of it. You are not as doomed as you believe.

The negative mindset may be created as a coping mechanism for something happened in the past. It may be in your brain for years. However, it doesn't mean that you should let it define you. You need to search for the voices within you, instead of rejecting them. It is meaningless to make yourself suffer, and it is not helpful for your spiritual growth at all.

Taking yourself out of the equation is as bad as taking anyone else from the equation. You deserve to better, and the world is waiting for you to stand in your power. Try to make changes in your mindset. Put your happiness as a priority. It will guide you to remember who you truly are, and lead you to reach your highest potential. It may sounds difficult to do so now, but once you start working on it, you will find it very easy for you.

Pile 2

You probably just get out of some nasty stuff, maybe something like being deceived or betrayed. The energy of being hurt and questioning what was going on is still lingering. However, it seems that you have done a great job of withdrawing yourself from the situation! If you are looking at this reading to find confirmation on whether you have handled the situation properly, the answer is yes.

Instead of delving deeper into finding out why they did that to you, you took a leap of faith to get rid of the situation, or cut ties with those people who were sus. You recognize that thinking too much about the situation will only prolong the suffering from it, and that suffering is not that meaningful either. So, you accept the fact that sometimes bad things just happens.

Your decisiveness also grants you new perspectives on relationship in general, as you did not spend too much energy on what happened in the past. You try to earn something from this situation, by learning to recognize the red flags, heal from this kind of stuff, and even try to help others that are affected by similar situations with your experience.

It may be hard to believe, but others think that you're a badass in handing the situation! They believe that you are powerful, and they think that you know your worth. Even for those who may be hurt by your decision, they can't help but admire your boldness for a little bit. 😭 (Actually, I am impressed by your energy too when I am reading the cards 😬😭)

Pile 3

This pile probably has some unsupportive people surrounding you, especially unsupportive family members. If this is not what is happened to you, it may not be your pile, because I feel about this very strongly.

Due to the constant stress and negative feedback from your surroundings, you feel that you lack the ability to make good decisions, doubt everything you do, and some may even believe that you are set for failure. However, this is not true at all!

You are beautiful, admirable, and capable. You are unable to recognize it, but it is not your fault, as the negative mindset is what people feed into your brain. However, people failing you does not mean that you are a failure.

You have the quality to turn this around, and become the beautiful being you are supposed to be. All you lack is the mindset. You can start working on it by believing that you are worthy, and you deserve to receive blessings from the universe, or just good things in general.

Your haters are very nasty. They see your suffering, or know that what they are doing to you is hurtful, but they hope that you never get out of the pain. Some even believe that you don't deserve anything! I feel that they don't even want me to tell you that you're perfectly fine as I feel resistance in getting the message.

However, it is just their opinions, and we know that it is not what you truly are. Also, now you know where your negative mindset comes from. It's not from you! You can make a change, as you are not the problem. It sucks that your family is unsupportive, but their opinions are not the only opinion in the world. I can see that you will find a group that will celebrate you in the future, and receive the love and support that you deserve.

#pick a card #tarot reading #general tarot reading #Spotify

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drkmgs · 2 years

Text

It had my heartbroken.

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Warning: mild Angst

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

"They weren't mine but when I lost them it had my heart broken."

Wednesday wrote that as her ending sentence in her old chapter. She carefully took out the paper and added to her neatly packed pages. She sighed. The room felt bigger than before, she could definitely feel your absence. She never thought she would be fond of your shenanigans or you in flesh.

She hate to admit but she misses you. awfully. She misses how you would annoy her while she's writing, your cringe phrases that could lead her to murder, your infuriating laugh and your dreadful back hugs whenever you see her in the halls. She misses you so much that she started to hallucinate, she would see you in every classroom, hallways, at the Weathervane, and even in her room, but she knew it was just an image of you in her mind, she didn't make an effort to talk to you. Though sometimes you would talk to her like you usually do.

Now is the perfect example. You were on her bed, on the phone, scrolling through social media, humming in satisfaction. Then you remembered you weren't alone.

Y/N: Oh, sorry I was humming. I didn't realize it.

Wednesday: T-there's nothing to apologize for. You can continue humming if you want too.

Her voice cracked, it broke her heart. She needed that comfort from you but she knew you were merely an image in her head. She tried to shake the image away in her mind but it only makes it worse.

You were now standing in front of her. Looking down at her, whilst she is sitting on her stool. You gently crease her cheeks, she leans into your touch. Feeling the warmth of your hand against her very own cold skin.

When will she realize you're not just a hallucination, that you're real, that you were on the edge of death but cheated in some way? When will she realize, how much love and affection she showed, whilst thinking you were dead.

You had to play along with this idea. Preventing her to do something else. You were glad to see her doing just fine, but when loneliness strikes her, you couldn't just watch from afar. You soothe her by appearing every time she needed you. You would play your memories with her, to remind her about the happiness that she has given you.

She wrapped her arms around your waist to feel more warmth of you. Inhaling your scent, wood sage, and sea salt. Your scent is therapeutic to her, it did calm her down. You had your hands on her head slightly pressing it against your body and gently stroking her hair.

It was time for you to go before anyone else's sees you. You gently guided her to her bed and made her lay on it. She's holding your hand, not wanting you to leave. You whispered little things to her, it was soothing her to sleep. Soon enough she slipped into slumberland and you kissed her on the forehead to say goodbye.

You slowly pulled your hand away and made your way to the door. When you opened it, you were greeted by a tall woman with silver blond hair.

Principal Weems: I have been looking for you. How is she?

You took one last glance behind you and closed the door. You cleared your throat to compose yourself.

Y/N: She's doing fine while I'm beside her, but she's completely lost when she's all alone, she'll slip into something worse. Moth- I mean Principal Weems, let me tell her the truth. I can't keep roaming around the school like a ghost.

Principal Weems: We have talked about this, Y/N. How would you even tell her you aren't dead? How would you tell her you cheated death? She saw you get stabbed with Nightshade poison. You died in front of her, we held a funeral for you. Even I, your mother. I am in shock to see you come back from the dead. Don't get me wrong, I am truly happy you're back but we still don't have answers to what questions they may have. Staying low and hidden will be the safest thing to do right now.

Y/N: But I can't keep watching, how she suffers alone, not even knowing her partner is alive and kicking. Mom, I love her. I want to be with her so badly.

You couldn't hold on to your tears anymore. You are already sobbing when your mother pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back to calm you down.

Principal Weems: I know, darling. I'm sorry.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #principal weems #larissa weems #drkmgsstories

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ingravinoveritas · 9 months

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Hello, I hope you are doing well!! I am going to add into the growing pile of asks in your inbox, but I need to get this out of my system!! Seeing these new images (and the season 3 announcement) has watered my crops, cleared my skin and all that jazz ✨🌟 both of them look soo happy and soppy and smitten and I really can't stop smiling at those pics... They radiate warmth (and are a far cry from the last pics of MS we got) and the best thing is, the people around them are looking like '😏😏 yes homo 🏳️‍🌈? If it is then good for them, good for them' (I even edited the pics XD)

Would love to hear more of your thoughts on this and I hope you have a nice holiday season (if you celebrate). Cheers 🥂

(Grouping these all together for ease of answering.)

Good lord, my inbox has completely blown up since last night. I can see we've all been greatly affected by the photo(s) of Michael and David at the Donmar, and there is surely much to discuss.

I think I am losing my shit just slightly too, so I am with you, @enchantingdefendorarbiter. What a joyous turn of events--opening night of Macbeth and Michael in (almost) the front row watching David with rapt attention, and someone somehow capturing the exact moment when they lock eyes from across the room in a "movie moment" made into genuine reality.

When I first saw the picture last night, I was so struck by the intimacy of it. Part of me wonders if this is due to the actual space--the Donmar is such a small theatre that lends itself to intimacy just by its nature, with the audience being so close to the stage and the performers. But there is no denying the intimacy that exists between Michael and David themselves--deep friendship, certainly, yes, but after looking at this photo, unquestionably the possibility of more.

As I've said before, I will not ever tell anyone that they have to ship Michael and David. It is absolutely correct for people to look at this picture and see best friends, because they are best friends. But being best friends and falling in love aren't mutually exclusive, nor does the possibility become closed off just because both of them are in other relationships.

So, intimacy. Another thing that intimacy can mean is feeling comfortable enough to show your feelings openly. That was what also struck me about last night, was that this was so public, and yet we got this (non-staged, non-planned) picture of Michael and David looking at each other ostensibly the same way they do when they're alone together. In this instance, maybe they thought no one was paying attention, but more significantly, they don't seem to care either way.

I think we think of "being in love" as this big, grand thing that exists the way it does in the movies. But in real life, being in love isn't just one specific thing, or specifically saying "I am in love with you." Being in love can also be I am looking at you like this right now because I don't know any other way to look at you. And that can be in private, or it can be in the middle of a crowded theatre, proudly letting the world see what you feel without apology.

(I also agree with you, @yami-no-kokoro, that the new pictures of Michael (which to answer your question @angelsandfelines are indeed from last night) are worlds away better than the ones we saw of him at a previous event. I am never not moved by the difference between Michael smiling his 'showbiz' smile versus smiling his real, genuine smile, and I love that that's what we got last night and that he was beaming so brightly because of David.)

To your comment, @phantomstars24, I could very much see that as well. Because last night felt and still feels like it was David and Michael's night. It felt like something took center stage in a new and painfully lovely way. It felt like Michael could go to David's dressing room with flowers and wine, and that they could sit on the couch and snog slowly and sweetly while Michael holds David in his arms and no one would blink a damn eye. And that is truly a beautiful thing.

So yes, those are my additional thoughts on the Macbeth press night. I have to do some traveling today, but I will try my best to answer the other Asks still waiting in my inbox. Thank you all for writing in and sharing your thoughts! x

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simlicious · 10 days

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Personal update!

Hey everyone! I started to write this at 9:40 am, then I got distracted and did not post it right away but I guess activity on tumblr at that time is low anyway.

I am happy to report that I am still going strong with my changed day/night cycle. It's not always easy, I don't get into bed early enough on some days and feel pretty groggy the next. But this is always where I get defeated - I think okay, sleeping in for half an hour won't be a problem... but then I go to bed even later and the cycle goes backwards really quickly. This time I am determined to stay strong even if that means I walk around like a zombie and drink 1.5 liters of black tea on some days to keep me awake 😆

I guess it takes time to adjust the evening routines too. On these "useless" days, I often play Anno 1800 which is engaging and relaxing at the same time. I often quit the game to mod this and that in the game, so my brain is pretty engaged still and this is how I like it most days.

Since new habits need at least 6 weeks to be counted as a new stable habit, I will focus only on my sleep rhythm for the time being and allow myself to take a mental break from other projects to eliminate the inner expectation of working on those when I know it is unreasonable at this time. It also does me good to let go of any pressure to create TS3 content. I know it has been a while but it does nobody any good if I guilt myself because of it. I often get negative feelings around my simblr lately and it sucks, like I am really unsure about the few AI patterns I made and the poll made me really question what I should do since it is pretty divided. I do not know whether those are more random people who answered the poll or people who often engage in my blog anyway. So I don't really know if I should release those patterns at all or if people come and harass me over them if I do. But not releasing them would mean that energy to create them would be truly wasted, I think? If the images exist already, shouldn't they be used to make it count? Because thinking of that makes me uneasy, I put my creative energy into Anno 1800 for the time being which is not emotionally loaded. I am way too disorganized to really do beauty building, and most of the time I am just happy when my population get the goods they want 😆but modding another item that helps with that or editing other people's mods to fit my needs is fun and satisfying. It's a bit like editing tuning mods for Sims 3 (just with some more complicated layers added depending on the mod).

Knowing myself, I will get another pattern idea soon enough though, and sweater season is fast approaching which means I get into the mood of creating more cozy patterns, hopefully! I want to give a shoutout to people who have shown my patterns in screenshots lately. I admit I am not very active on tumblr at the moment and do not see everything I should. Memorable ones were @martassimsbook and @gittessimsadventuresog, but anyone else please feel addressed too! It means a lot to me to see my patterns in use, it makes me feel validated and useful and lifts my spirits. It also helps to dispel some of my negative thoughts (maybe patterns do not go obsolete after all if people are still using them). I'm really happy they are so useful to you! A lot of you probably do not post many gameplay screenshots but use my patterns anyway, I cannot forget about you 💜thanks for all the support!

#personal

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cupidspup · 3 months

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I had an anonymous person ask me some questions about pacifiers, how to get then discreetly and stuff so here's my answer!! :D

Hi! Firstly I wanna say I really admire you asking around for advice and good job for that it's very brave! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ I'd like to say that we as the agere community are very focused on educating others but are also known to take care of others in the community and it makes me so happy that you trust me to help educate you! And to everyone who sees this yes, I am more than willing to answer any questions you may have :> this is my personal blog and safe space but I love chatting and I love helping others too! (Just know if it's advice or questions I'll answer when I do have energy :3) As a person whos nuerodivergent and has social/general anxiety i know it can be really hard and scary to do things! anywho! I'm real happy you asked and I'm happy to answer!

Yes, I do use a pacifier! I actually have a little collection if anyone ever wants to see hehehe૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა anywho! Yes it is genuinely comforting and soothing to me! I usually regress between the ages of 0-6 but usually I'm very very small. I also tend to want a reason to be quiet and just use my random noises when im small too! It also makes me feel better about myself and my self esteem! I think I look cute with it and since I live with my partner/cg/little he thinks it's cute too ૮(˶˃ᆺ˂˶) The feeling of it generally feels full if that makes any sense? Everyone uses pacifiers for their own reasons but these are mine! If you're more of a chewer I definitely recommend getting a teething ring especially the ones with water in it (please be careful!!) It's a lil difficult to puncture a pacifier but not impossible either!

Still relating to pacifiers from above ^ please don't ever let anyone shame you out of having a pacifier or a teething ring or anything really, it hurts to know you have been ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა if it soothes you and isn't a problem to anyone else then there's absolutely nothing wrong with it and at the end of the day, it's your regression not anyone else's. You don't owe anyone anything ever (of course basic mutual respect but still you know what I mean-) pacifiers and teething rings and such are all your choice! Never let that become someone else's choices for you!!

As for obtaining one!! A lot of places on instagram offer discreet packaging! I can recommend my favorite places to buy if you guys ever want recommendations!! But anywho!! When I was a minor living in an unsafe home I did one of two things: given the money to a trusted person and had them send it to their house or another person's house that I trusted OR bought it and sent it to a safe person's house! Of course I told the person what I was doing and I did it with their permission!! They would give it to me when we saw each other :3 please do not use pacifiers meant for real biological babies though!! They will hurt and possibly damage your teeth! If you do ever resort to that (which is highly not recommended) please use it very minimally, do not fall asleep with it and only use it for absolute emergencies. Same goes for other little gear such as sippy cups!

If you don't have a safe person you can tell and have some sort of situation worked out with them I am very very sorry and there isn't much I can do to help :< but!! What I can do is tell you what I did before I had any little gear! I would typically suck on the knuckle of my index finger! Just yknow, curl my finger and suck on that! Of course please don't do that too hard or bite it was only something to soothe and keep myself satisfied for the meantime! :]

That is all I can say for now! I hope everything I said cleared up stuff for you and I hope you can get into a better household soon!! I know it can be hard but know that your regression is a sacred thing, protect it and share it with people you trust 🩷 that I'd the best advice I can give you as an adult regressor (who has many regrets 💀)

With that said!

You are loved and you are cared for, you're always welcome on my blog :]

𓂋

- ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ Kewpie

#agere #age regression #age regressor #agere blog #agere community #sfw regression #age dreaming #sfw agere #agere caregiver #pet regression #agere textpost

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months

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This week��s writer spotlight feature is: Skepsis_Ree! @skepsiss has 16 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 15 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @skepsiss:

The Last Strange Thing

It's Snowing In Hawkins

Long Road Ahead

House to ourselves

Modern Problems, Modern Solutions

"Bailey's fics are phenomenal and they don't get enough love!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @skepsiss answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

a) Why does anyone latch onto any pairing? Something about Steve and Eddie grabbed my attention like no other ship has in years. I’ve always liked Stranger Things, but I never shipped anything from it until season 4 and until I saw the on-screen dynamic of Steve and Eddie. It felt so fun, and I just constantly saw Steddie art popping up on my dash, so I was looking more and more at it until I just said OKAY, I’M GOING ALL IN and started writing private fan fictions for just one of my friends who encouraged me to post them. b)Why do I still write Steddie? Probably because of my pals Eddy and Jess who talk to me about the lads day in and day out <3

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m really bad at reading fan fics, to be honest, and I don’t actually enjoy reading tropes. The closest thing to a trope I like to read is probably just “they’re in love” or “they will fall in love.” I like good stories, regardless of the setting or the trope.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Does angst count? I pretty much just write angst! I love drama, angst, and exploring miscommunication! Supernatural elements are also super fun, and of course, I love horror, but those things feel more like genre rather than tropes. But I am also a sucker for a happy ending, so you can sort of expect that from me.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

My fav fic is “No Regrets” by @/strangersteddierthings I loved it so much that I made a graphic for it, and Jess uses it as a banner for the fic now!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I try to avoid tropes in my writing, (unless you count drama and angst, lol), so I’m not really sure how to answer this. I’ve never written a classic “there is only one bed” or “coffee shop au” or ANYTHING like that, so maybe I should try and do an actual, classic trope. I don’t think I’ve ever, EVER written a REAL trope before, tbh. I’m actually really curious what people would suggest for me to write, if anyone has a suggestion, I’m all ears!

What is your writing process like?

If I’m looking for a story idea, I usually play the “3-word game” to generate an idea. It works like this: I ask someone to give me 1 word that is a Person (priest, character from a show, sister, etc), a Place (NYC, a house, tombstone, etc), and an Object (pen, houseplant, knife, etc) and then I try and connect those 3 things. That usually helps me generate an idea and develop an interesting story. My other method is… I have wild dreams and wake up with a fully-formed scene in my brain, and I deconstruct that scene in order to find out how I can create a story to get to that point. I also write super fast, so I try and get the idea down on paper asap, or I’ll lose interest and never write it. If I’m writing for a Big Bang or something, I have usually finished writing that fic like… months before I need to post it.

Do you have any writing quirks?

A say “though” a lot, start sentences with “so,” and say “a bit” or “a little bit” in my writing a lot. An example would be “He wasn’t alive though, he didn’t ‘have a life’ to speak of, so this was what exactly?”

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

As soon as I finish!!!! I have a hard time holding back….

Which fic are you most proud of?

That I have posted? Probably “The Last Strange Thing.” It is my longest one. But I have one that I will be posting soon that I am very proud of that I have been working on for a while called “Senior Year” which I’ve been writing on and off since November 2022. I finally buckled down and finished writing it for the Steddie Big Bang and I’ll be posting it this year!

How did you get the idea for The Last Strange Thing?

“The Last Strange Thing” was written for a Reverse Big Bang in collaboration with @/llamalpaca. They created an amazing art piece of Steve and Robin in apocalypse gear, and it got the wheels turning in my brain about an apocalypse AU which reminded me of a conversation I had with a pal about “The Last of Us.” It inspired a whole tale in my brain about Steve and all of the “Stranger Things” party existing in a “The Last of Us” world, so I mashed them together and started writing a story.

When writing The Last Strange Thing, what was something you didn’t expect?

I plan out my stories pretty thoroughly, but something I feel is a very “weak point” in my writing is “action scenes,” so I really surprised myself by even ATTEMPTING to tackle something like “The Last Strange Thing,” which has so much action in it. At first, I sort of assumed I would avoid action as much as possible and make the story about the journey, but as I plotted things out, I just kept making plot points that involved more and more action so when I sat down to write it… I was really surprised that everything flowed together so well and the action felt really natural. Lots of people even complimented my action writing, which felt amazing, cause I’ve always felt it was a weakness!

What inspired It's Snowing In Hawkins?

“It’s Snowing In Hawkins” was a request for a mini-Steddie Winter Exchange where a secret exchanger submitted three requests/tropes/inspirations, and you got to choose from them. One of them involved a snowman-building contest, and Eddie “schooling the younger members of the party.” Another part of the request was that they DID NOT WANT ANY ANGST, so that was a big challenge for me! So it was all fluff, and I thought giving Eddie a slightly ADHD-sideways assignment from “snowman” felt fitting for him. Thus, snow-dome and Steve and Eddie getting some private time in the snow together. That, and at that point, I had never written “virgin Eddie” before, so I thought it would be super cute to explore.

What was your favorite part to write from House to ourselves?

Oh geez, this one is almost PWP, but I think probably just the adult-domestic side of it. Just two dads… getting to be dads. Their young kids are away for the weekend, and they get to take a nap together? There is something so… luxurious about that as an adult (I don’t have kids, but working full-time doesn’t give you enough time for naps either) that feels so nice and REAL about that, haha.

How do/did you feel writing Modern Problems, Modern Solutions?

I really wanted to channel shitty-teen energy. This was the most TEENAGE ANGST AND TEEN DRAMA story I’ve written. Everyone in the story is properly a teen in this, and I dug deep to remember what it felt like to be a teenager again. So I guess what I was feeling was… teen spirit.

What was the most difficult part of writing Long Road Ahead?

This is a really emotional fic, actually. Probably the hardest chapters to write were chapters 2 and 3 where we see the intense yearning between Eddie and Steve and how both of them truly believe that nothing would work between them—Eddie because he thinks Steve doesn’t like him, and with Steve, it is because he is terrified about being queer. I think the toughest thing about writing this was challenging Steve’s intense internal homophobia. That’s something that isn’t explored a lot in fic, and it does not feel good, so I get it, but I think it’s realistic for the 80s. Steve being really scared about his own feelings would be something a lot of boys would struggle with in that era, especially as a handsome, sporty guy who really thinks he is straight up until that point where he falls HARD for his guy friends uncontrollably. It’s difficult to write characters who have polar opposite opinions compared to yourself, but I find it really interesting, and it makes it really fun to write them GROWING OUT of that mindset.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I don’t think I can pick a line because it has been too long since I have written any of those fics, but scene-wise, I think one of my favourite scenes is from one of my stories called “Tooth and Nail” where EDDIE is the one struggle with the idea of being queer and Steve is the one who has “come out” first. Anyway, Eddie is sitting on one side of a door, and he has no idea if Steve is listening to him or not, but he is confessing all of his feeling of “I messed up, and I don’t know how I feel, but I know I messed up and I’m sorry.” Also later, he cries about it to Steve and gets so embarrassed he pulls his shirt over his head to hide the fact that he is crying, and I still think that is adorable. I really like both of those scenes.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

a) If you haven’t read “Tooth and Nail” you should, it’s older but up on my Tumblr. b) New project wise though!!!! I HAVE THREE NEW ONES! c) “Batter Up” just dropped on June 16th and is a 14,000 word fluff fic for the Steddie Summer Exchange. It’s about Baseball!Player Steve and Rockstar!Eddie meeting and falling in love. d) “Momento Mori” is my Wayne & Steve (with Steddie of course) fic for the Stranger Things Big Bang that will be posting in July, so keep an eye on my Tumblr and/or my Ao3. My artist @/the-aphelion-archives has some really cool art being cooked up, so stay tuned for that! e) And last but not least, my Steddie piece “Senior Year” will be posted for the Steddie Big Bang at the end of this summer/early fall during the bang with art made by @/metalfreaks86! This is my 50k fic that spans from just after Season 2 to after Season 4, and involves a lot of heartbreak, and first loves. Keep an eye on my Tumblr and Ao3 for that one too because we do not yet have a release date.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Thank you to whoever nominated me! I often feel like my fics aren’t for everyone because I tend to write for a more serious audience and tackle tougher topics and that just isn’t an overly popular medium in fan fiction––which is fine! Because fan fiction is escapism and I know people use it to feel good, and sometimes you don’t want to read sad stuff. So, I really appreciate people who take the time to read my sad stuff (that ends happily every time, cause I also like happy things haha), and enjoy my hard work. Genuinely, every time I feel like throwing in the towel because I think I’m writing into the void, some little kudo-kween pops up and reminds me that my writing is appreciated. Thanks gang <3 Also!!!! I am ALWAYS accepting requests. Anyone and EVERYONE (anon or not) is welcome to pop into my inbox on Tumblr at ANY TIME to make a Steddie fic request, be that a trope, a tiny Steddie idea or whatever. And if you’ve made a request and I’ve forgotten… please ask again!

Thank you to our author, @skepsiss, and our anonymous nominator! See more of Skepsis_Ree's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

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black-flag-if · 2 months

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So just some things I am seeing in my inbox. I'm glad that everyone is enjoying it. I'm glad for that because I was worried. I'm still not satisfied with it so I will change some things for my peace and hopefully less stress and frustration when I try some new things with codes.

With that said, some answers from some questions/comments in my inbox:

Black Flag is not aro/ace friendly. You can try to play but it's very romance based so if you aren't into that, you might have a very short experience. I do offer friendship routes, but the story becomes very short without the romance. If you find it okay even without the romance, awesome! Just know what you're getting into.

Jacques/Phoenix/Riley I don't see this as a issue on the coding side but someone said they got Phoenix at the party even if they don't romance them. You can get Phoenix to come on the romance path only. You can invite them as a friend but they won't or shouldn't come. Is anyone else having an issue? Jacques should also not comment on you flirting with others if you don't flirt with anyone. I played a messy route and played a loyal route. Both end up fine and work as intended so I'm not sure, but if others are having an issue too maybe I can get a better idea of what's going on.

Ryder kiss is only available on the bold path . So if you got it once but not another time, that's why. Should you replay it for bold? I wouldn't since there'll be a kiss only meant for the shy route, too. Ryder as flirtatious as they are actually doesn't like making the move first, hence why they hold back on the shy path. F!Ryder is bolder and she would make the move first but only when certain conditions are met.

Riley has a small crush on MC and the only one, too, but I don't know if it's romantic as it is that they just think MC is just really cool and someone new on the team. If you don't romance them, they'll just be a good friend. If you do flirt, and you see them being more friendly, it's because of that. So if you see some things on one playthrough and not on another, that's why.

Someone mentioned having clues which paths are flirty/romantic. I think the choices are pretty straightforward but if it's something you'd like, I can implement icons next to the choices. Are you finding the choices difficult to distinguish?

No, you don't have to improve friendships with others or your team. Yes, it will have consequences, and a different ending/path. But negative relationship with the team will not stop you from having a happy ending. You'll just have a different ending. And no, I don't know how many endings there'll be yet. So far, I have three but that is bound to change and because I plan to take into account how MC actually does in the competition.

No, you don't have to know about racing. I did add vocab for those that might not be familiar. There will be choices when we get to the driving in Chapter 3 that will have an affect overall on MCs capabilities but I will also try to give those answers either a chapter before or earlier in the same chapter so you just need to pay attention.

I think that's all for now.

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fiammee · 5 months

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Hello, how have ya been? How did your trip ended, did you have fun?

I guess reaching to you through asks is easier than DMs, so here I am, being generally curious about where we left off the last last time, but since I am here I'll also leave a big ask:

How did it happen that Jon Lord is so important to you? When did you hear him and saw him for the first time? What's the thing in his playing and in his character that makes him be that special guy to you?

Write the longest answer you want - or a short one if it's more in your style - I'm just a curious lil mutual <3

Heyaaaaa haiiiiiii dear!!!! Thank you for these questions *rubbing hands* Finally lets hope that I can respond this time XD

Times could get better, but summer is coming and Im pretty excited in beginning uni academy next year, lets hope🙏

About my trip end, it was a bit unexpected but funny: we leaved our rented house at 10 AM but we quickly found out that all highways were clogged up, and we managed to reach home a whole day after, at 1 AM, literally praying that my mom wouldnt fall asleep while driving 🤣

Abt Jon, lets begin *cracks knuckles*

I dont remember if I have ever said this to anyone, but usually my dad, when I was little, made me watch purple lives instead of cartoons;

So, throughout my childhood and my first teenage years I had this blurred memory about the members and how they looked like; (my thoughts were like: why the drums guy is so little? Why the guitarman is so scary? Why that mans moustache are so big and silly? Why the singer looks like Jesus and has my same hair? Just pure childlike wonder lol)

And finally, around 2020, I gave them a chance by listening my dads machine head vynil and OH BOY OH BOY I was quickly captivated by their roaring and powerful sound.

My first crush was big ian but I later revalued Jon when, out of pure curiousity, I went searching for pics on pinterest and I stumbled upon this:

My brain and hormones went apeshit🤭🤭 and this sort of awakened me, I was asking myself questions like "wtf is happening to me whattt?" in pure confusion.

The rest is now history, and here I am today :]]

Apart from the obvious phisical attraction (please mind that I was still new to this world at the time🤣) What I always found fascinating about him was the crazy talent and gentle personality among the "rock people" that Ive known previously.

I consider him to be a pretty unique rock soul: no extreme drama, nor arrogance, stupidity, rudeness or immesurable ego; he was just happy to be in the scene, and had the intelligence to make himself respected and valued... I think that he did that pretty well😌.

He used MUSIC in his everyday life as the main method of expressing himself rather than using words (as an introvert I consider him as a role model for what he gifted to others and himself) and lets be frank, isnt it cool that a BIG strong 185 cm man is easily brought to tears of emotion by listening to a classical piece or spectating a good sunset or landscape? He's an 800' romantic author trapped in a motocyclist body, an unusual combination🤣🤣

And what about his music? He combined classical, popular, blues, jazz and sick improvisation in a fresh versatile style that changed rock music and organ playing forever, and would inspire generations of musicians since this very day! And lets not forget his pure classical works, full of a wide range of emotions that have helped me in various rough times.

I hope to have answered your questions my dear :)) and it wouldnt be bad if I addressed the same questions to you about keith, with you making a post about it reblogging this one, obv if you feel like doing it 🫰🏻

#talking corner #this was long fr fr #2nd time writing it 😵‍💫😵‍💫

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linnetagain · 3 months

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Hi! I’m not sure if you’re comfortable answering questions about your fics here so please feel free to ignore this if you’re not.

I’m a russian queer who left a comment under chapter 3 of The Season and I’m super qurious why you decided to make Астарион :), Cazador and Halsin russian. In Good Men and Monsters you mention that Astarion has been called upyr, does he have Eastern European background in that universe as well?

I’m completely enamoured with and fascinated by your works and wait for new updates religiously. Thank you so much for sharing them with us, you’re a солнышко! 🖤

Hello friend!! I am slow to answer but happy to! I can't promise I'll be very eloquent or be able to provide a satisfying answer but I'll do my best.

First of all, I haven't specified Astarion's background in Good Men and I likely won't, so if you want to read him as Eastern European please do! I can absolutely see how it fits. In the context of that discussion it's the concept of Vampirism and the folklore surrounding it that is focused on Eastern Europe rather than he himself. I am absolutely not going to touch some of Stoker's vampiric lore because he was a xenophobic Victorian man (the boxes of dirt... goddamn, Stoker, what the fuck - the grave dirt of course is relevant in Good Men but it's 'the soil the vampire was buried in' not 'fifty boxes of soil from his homeland'). I could write a whole essay on the symbolism of the outsider as a threat and the crossover of the ostracized sections of Victorian society in Dracula (non-english, lower class, homosexual, the list goes on and fucking on) but this is already a long reply so I'll spare you and look at Season.

There are a couple of reasons that it fits, for me, and a lot of it is to do with the Russian history of competitive ice skating. Writing a modern AU Astarion who wasn't a vampire meant I knew I needed to find another way to have that aspect of his character where his life hasn't been his own, where it's been shaped by other people for their own purposes, and even as an adult and being 'free' to make his own choices, he's living with the legacy of who they made him, and working to be more than that. Competitive sport definitely has that aspect already, unfortunately, and ice skating even more so.

I also never wanted him to be the only Russian, because then of course you're risking tokenizing him. Cazador made sense for obvious reasons, but Halsin too. I considered him because he's the other high elf companion, but also because in game he's the one with a history of war. Transferring him to a modern day context was harder than a lot of the other characters, but I wanted him to have that similar ground with Astarion that he has in game, even if they never address it. Unintentionally, it means that in Season he and Astarion have very different experiences of their culture and identity, especially in context of the diaspora, which is something I really enjoy exploring.

Of course that then raises the question of the current geopolitical state of Russia and the wider Slavic regions. Having real world issues as a basis for plot is always somewhat fraught, but it's also something very close to my heart and that I want to write about. I also didn't want to make them all British to avoid any of that difficulty, that would be both unrealistic and uninteresting.

I think the ultimate reason is that fiction, even fanfiction, is our way of processing and reflecting on and exploring our world. It's less obvious in fantasy settings, but it's still very much there. The ultimate reason I choose to do anything is because it's interesting - and usually, in a real world context, that means it's fraught and complicated. I want to write about things that matter, to me and to anyone who might read it, and I want to do it in a way that means anyone reading from a different context might feel seen.

The reason I started writing in the first place, however many years ago, is that I didn't see any asexual rep in fiction and I knew that if I needed it, someone else needed it too. I do the same now. I have queer Russian friends who feel like the world has moved on from what's going on in Russia at the moment, or that all Russian people are being treated like they MUST agree with what the Russian government are doing. The nuance of the situation and their identity is erased by oversimplification. I suppose part of writing this is just me wanting to do anything I can to combat that. It's not much, but I hope it's something, to know that you're seen and still being thought about, and people still care.

Writing characters who have dealt with miscarriage, drug abuse, xenophobia, chronic pain, emotional neglect and all those kinds of things is because I have feelings about these subjects, I want to discuss them, I want to explore what it means to live through something like that and how it affects you as a person. Fiction is a space to do that, and to invite people into those conversations that we wouldn't have otherwise. Art has always been a starting point, and it's always been at the forefront of social and political change. I don't write fanfic thinking it's going to change the world, obviously, but I do write it with the intention of treating real life situations with the respect and consideration they deserve, rather than just using them for drama or brushing over them because it's a difficult thing to talk about.

I know that Season is a love story. That's the ultimate goal, and I presume that's why people are still reading. But it's also, to me, a story about what it means to be queer in our world today. What that looks like, how far we've come and how far we still have left to go. I want to give people a story that is real, in that sense. That takes in all the fucking awful shit that can come with being queer and out and open, and still have hope and a happy ending. It's not easy, and I don't ever want to pretend that it is. But fiction also gives us a place where we can imagine what a happy ending might look like, in a world that doesn't provide them as often as we'd like.

So. Sorry for the essay as a response, but. I suppose I made Astarion Russian because it made sense for his character, but also because I want to write with hope, and not manufacturing false hope by turning away from the world as it is. I want to write all the awful, difficult, horrible things, and believe that happiness and hope are possible anyway, despite, and including them. We don't live in an ideal world. Sometimes I want to cave to despair and think that things will never be better. I write because I don't want to believe that's true.

#bloodweave #the season #good men and monsters

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glowinggreenfrog · 1 month

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I FINISHED BOYS OVER FLOWERS!!

I have thoughts so this will be long w/ spoilers.

Last night, I finished my 24 hours of boys over flowers manga read-a-thon and I had to sit and ponder at the ending- in the best way.

I am going to miss this series so much.

The Little Mermaid Question

From my last post, yes , of course I was happy that Umi was humbled-or at least hopefully she clues into it someday. I was gagged and gooped.

The reference to the little mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen by Makino solidified this series as a top 3 manga for me. She had my heart when she said

“Why should I be sea foam?”.

It put the good in Goodbye

The call backs from the beginning of the manga were so perfectly woven in as it got closer.

Seeing it all referenced felt like a warm smile. I have to admit, it felt bittersweet knowing why they were here again. I loved that hitting someone with a baseball was how he got his memories back, and bringing up her dropped friend character.

The pacing was refreshing and not heavy. It felt like I could breathe still. The sushi restaurant was a cute reunion. Especially, the detail that she jump ropes in her apartment still.

Yuki

At first, I was annoyed with how much time we spent with Yuki—Only because I was so stressed knowing how little time was left!!

Thankfully, I told myself to relax because I really loved that plot. I felt so stressed for her, and it was so well written. Yuki is such a cool character and storyline.

The billboard reveal with Sarah gagged me. Also that she took him back up on the offer, and I was moved to see she was a different person now. She grew so much.

I loved them all eating cake until dawn.

Also loved Makino craving ramen after. I love that her and Tsukasa were alone eating soup in the restaurant. (Well more just Makino). It was cute.

This chapter fed the girls who don’t end up with their first love, and it was done so thoughtfully. It also made me accept if our main couple don’t end up together, or grow together.

They can change as people, and grow apart. That’s normal. They don’t need to prove to anyone that their love was genuine and they tried. Looking back, I am so happy this was included in the end.

Main couple

And speaking of our main couple. The four year drop…..

I literally had to put my phone down. And scream breathe.

Quit playing.

Violence, maybe is the answer.

Esp. After the memory loss plot?!

I took a metaphorical drag of a metaphorical cigarette here, and I chewed on that metaphorical smoke before blowing it out.

But…that’s so them! They don’t give us fanservice for them much at peace and although that made me so upset, but we have the whole series to look back on.

It took me throughout the day (even after jewel box) to forgive him for that.

I was thinking about how the hospital arc ended and he’s such a different person without Makino, I can see how she changed him, and now he can be on equal footing with her. She helped him challenge himself and his mom, and live for something.

I am grateful Rui told her to live for herself, and I appreciate her family coming through for her senior year. It was all very true to their chaotic and broke characters and the timing of them trying to move all the time.

Also, the almost hookup!! Her well badly timed fever. I am happy it didn’t happen, because I felt like their story has to continue now.

Also it wasn’t really them. It’s too planned.

We know it has to be after a fight lmaoo.

I think if they did go through with it, it would have been harder to live so far apart too.

I cannot believe that she woke up alone. Not even 24 hours with her guy? At the same time, I like that it must’ve help cement that she didn’t want to leave Japan.

I only wish he planned the date to be closer to home for the vibes to be more immaculate, but I know that it is not his vibe, and there was too much going on (new job, graduating, prom, etc.).

It felt like a cop-out on their first planned trip abroad as a couple. The proposal idea was funny, I genuinely laughed with how much she couldn’t stand the roses smell. I would think the same.

I am sending a theme that he is terrible with grand romantic gestures.

Conclusion

Amazing Shoujos are so life changing, and truly the strongest genre. I love a manga that makes you cry. It makes me love love and remember how fuzzy you feel in it, and I needed that lately. This is so close to my heart.

I regretted reading it so fast but then I remembered how I can read it again and that made me more excited.

I loved the characters. I want to watch the anime (I am begging for a remake in the style of lost heroine).

I saw a lot of other female pro tags in our Makino. Like Kagome from Inuyasha in our main girl, and it’s interesting that their timelines match up production wise! I like that I can see Mao Mao from Apothecary Diaries a bit in her too. They’re going to be themselves whether people like it or not!

Then like the greedy child I am, I had to reach for the jewel-box volume because FOUR YEARS?YOUR TELLING ME NOTHING HAPPENS? I know I don’t need to know all the answers and our characters are strong, but I was excited for a peek.

So…I already finished it. I might make a separate post for that, but honestly this ending helped me feel at peace. It felt more like a cherry on top (and who am I kidding I love more Rui).

I don’t know if I can start the season 2 yet, but I am tempted. I miss hearing Tsukasa’s mis-entendre of phrases and things! Like light and day. I also just want to think about the story more.

I remember I downloaded Jump to read this series. I forgot after the signup process (lol), read one piece instead and thankfully remembered it. It is 100% up in my favorite mangas (a growing list but I love this manga so much).

This was so fun to read.

Honestly? 10/10.

It’s camp, timeless, insane and it knows it. It loves it. It is also mature, heartfelt and honest. The author truly loved crafting this.

I also love her updates throughout! Reading this in time must’ve been a treat and hell.

#I am still quietly rooting for Rui #boys over flowers #review #manga review #boys over flowers manga #hana yori dango

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jo-harrington · 1 year

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As Above, So Below - Prologue: Annunciation

Prequels: Heaven - Hell - Purgatory

Summary: Burdened by a centuries-long curse, you must follow the path fate has set for you and defeat evil that roams the Earth. You've left everything your heart desires behind to follow this path, and unfortunately, it still isn't enough. Fate has other plans for you, and for your love, Eddie Munson.

Word Count: 6.9k (nice)

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (Told in 2nd Person POV - you/your)

Warnings/Themes: Violence, Death/Suicide, Torture, Body Horror, Blood, Established Relationship, Romance, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References

Note: Welcome to As Above, So Below, my take on Kas!Eddie fic and a story inspired by Van Helsing (2004). This story has 3 prequels linked above that I highly recommend you read as this story will reference them.

This story is going to be EXTREMELY HEAVY to write, so I will not be putting out a posting schedule. Chapters will get posted as they are completed, however long that takes.

Please keep in mind, although this is an OC fic, our Knight will not be named or have physical descriptions noted. She is of European/Italian-American descent on her father's side. She was raised Roman Catholic, but her beliefs are very loose and you will see why if you read. You are free to imagine her as you wish. But her cultural identity will be referenced in this story, at least at the beginning and the end.

This series will not be for the faint of heart, nor is it something that was written with a general audience in mind. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“Do not be afraid […] for you have found favor with God […] With God, nothing will be impossible.” — Luke 1:28-37

March 25th, 1986

In your short time on this earth, you had certainly seen a lot. Mysteries of the universe were made known to you, you'd encountered heroes and villains alike—monsters, even—and been to many places, far and wide.

But you could honestly say that you had never set foot in a lair before today.

And, truly, lair was the only word you could use to describe this place.

Vaulted ceilings, marble floors, velvet curtains. There was an elaborate organ set up on a platform and an ominous set of stairs that descended deeper into the ground at the far end of the room.

Eddie would say this looked like something out of a C-list horror movie or a James Bond film.

You were already deep enough as it was; you'd navigated through an abandoned old mansion and the Los Angeles County sewer system just to get here. To anyone else, it would have seemed as though it took some divine intervention to find this place at all, but the divine is what you knew best.

Archbishop Jinette had given you minimal information to stop the evil that was at play. A ritual to bring forth a River of Life that would flood the San Gabriel Valley and kill millions. More importantly, to Jinette at least, it would create a rift in the fabric of reality that would cause a surge of Heavenly Power to flow freely throughout the Earth.

The Church never cared about the details, didn't care if a sacrifice or two came about, as long as their power remained safe. So the Who's and How's and Why's were left up to you. Thankfully your adversary had been careless with the clues he left behind.

You couldn't tell if it was a coincidence or not. Easter was a few days away so a River of Life made sense but surely a ritual that mirrored the ten plagues of Egypt would be more fitting a little closer to Passover.

"Doctor," you called out, your voice echoed through the cavernous room. You gripped your weapon—a nightstick taken off the body of the police officer that had been swarmed by locusts—and ventured forwards. "I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to help."

"You are not here to help," a stiff, croaking, disembodied voice reached your ears, filtered through some sort of unseen sound system. "You're here to stop me."

"Stop you from killing anymore innocent people," you explained.

"One remains," the voice replied. "Nine shall die. Nine eternities in doom."

"It will be a lot more than that if you don't stop whatever it is you have planned." You tried to reason with him, but you were met with silence. "Doctor! Doctor Phibes!"

Music suddenly blasted through the sound system and the room went dark, the only source of light came from whatever lay at the bottom of the stairs.

You knew the doctor wasn't done talking, he was just luring you deeper into his web to tip the playing field in his favor. You both knew there was no time to waste, so you walked into the trap willingly, with swift feet and a brave, but possibly foolish, heart.

Below the cavernous lair was an even bigger cavern still; a half-finished room with the same marble floors that suddenly gave way to rock formations and stalagmites and an underground river that offered a steady roar of rushing water. You didn't know where to rest your eyes, there were too many carefully crafted horrors laid out before you.

An altar with a body carefully placed atop it, a series of nine half-melted wax busts, a four-piece jazz band comprised of mechanical figures, a sterile area with a surgical table, and a ragged man who was elbow deep in another person's chest cavity.

A heavy hand clamped on your shoulder and you jumped to find the elusive Doctor Anton Phibes behind you. He was an imposing man who towered above you, his face sallow, waxy, and sagging. His red-rimmed eyes were bright with lively mischief, although his aura was heavy with the infernal stench of death.

You expected him to speak, but he simply tilted his head forward and urged you towards the altar. Not a question or suggestion, but an order.

You quickly weighed the possibility that if you killed him, struck him down, the ritual would simply end. Of course, then came the equally possible outcome that it would only hasten it.

Phibes pushed you the last bit of distance until you fell against the altar table itself and came face to face with the body resting there. You knew a dead body when you saw one, and generally you disagreed when people said they looked as if they were sleeping....this one however...she was peaceful in her eternal rest.

Face was full and serene, plump lips painted a succulent violet, with long, kohl-laden lashes that kissed her blush-dusted cheeks. Her skin was glowing and her long black hair had been fluffed and haloed around her. Her hands were folded below her chest and a lovely bejeweled ring glinted in the light of the candles that flickered from beside her on the altar.

The woman was preserved perfectly. Unnaturally.

"She's beautiful," you muttered.

"My wife," Phibes' voice croaked from beside you. You glanced over your shoulder to find that he had held a cord that ran from a porthole in the side of his neck to a phonograph-like speaker beside him. "My Rose. Taken from me far too soon, stolen from me."

"My God, please help my son," came an echoed mutter from the sterile area across the room. The surgeon had his bloodied hands folded in prayer as they rested on his patient's chest.

"Murdered!" Phibes voice grew louder and wrathful. "Don't cry upon God, Dr. Vesalius. He is on my side."

"And how do you know He's on your side," you questioned and Phibes' eyes cut back to you.

"He led me here," he explained. "Showed me the way in the quest for vengeance. Showed me the key to resurrection for my beloved and eternal life for us both. I plan to move Heaven and Earth to achieve it."

"Who are you to resurrect her?" you asked. "To bring about devastation for your wife? Is that His plan? The death of millions for the life of one?"

"He told me of you too, little Knight," he ignored your question. "It's how I knew to expect your arrival. He told me that you would appear to stop me."

"You're not only here to enact God's plan but to prophesize as well?"

"He said you would be the last step in bringing me back to my beloved Rose."

"So I must die too?"" You shrugged. "I'm the ninth?"

"No," he croaked. "Vesalius. Or rather, his wretched son. You must complete the ritual."

"I could kill you instead."

"Oh, but virtuous little Knight, I'm already dead." He released the cord and lifted his hands to his face. He peeled the waxy flesh and the tufts of hair on his head to reveal a twisted and burnt husk beneath. He was skeletal, barely a visage left; his nasal cavity shook with each labored breath and his exposed jaw clenched every so often.

Phibes inserted the cord into the porthole once again.

"I lost everything," he explained. "I lost my life, my purpose. And just when I thought it was enough, I lost my love too. I asked myself over and over: what was God's plan in taking it all away from me, in the blink of an eye? All at once? When I decided I would do anything—sacrifice anything—just to bring her back, He showed me the path and I took it. Wouldn't you? If you'd lost your love, what wouldn't you do, give, to get them back?"

A bitterness settled deep in your gut.

What did he know? What didn't he know? What was God's plan?

You'd asked yourself this many times over the course of your life, had become desensitized to the constant lack of an answer. Fate was an answer you couldn't stomach anymore.

So you had tried to run from it, only to collide with it instead. Fate cruelly led you to Eddie, and then away from him again...to protect him from the pain that was your damned life.

Yes, you would have done anything for him, even let him go. Love, for you, had to wait so that Fate wouldn't have been tempted to take him away.

Like it had for Phibes and Rose.

As you turned and stared down at Rose again...you felt for them...you truly did.

"Do you know resurrection takes more than just...some fancy ritual?" you asked Phibes. You could hear his feet shuffling closer to you. "It's unpredictable. The soul...the soul needs to be put back together, and by the time they ascend...or descend..."

"Rose was an angel," Phibes interjected and insisted. "My angel. My muse."

"...sometimes it's too late. How long has it been?"

"4 years."

"The ancient Egyptians had it right," you explained. "The Ka, the Ba...the Ahk...to put her back together after this long...would be impossible. Moving Heaven and Earth? More like breaking the walls between them. We could complete this ritual and resurrect her, but even still I don't think she would be whole ever again. She'd never really be your wife."

"And when would I have had to..."

"24 hours...48, maybe?" you offered.

Phibes' eyes slowly shut and he let out a painful hissing noise you could only attribute to a wail, or whatever equivalent his body could produce.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, hoping to provide some sort of balm on his wounded spirit. "But she's in Heaven...waiting for you."

You moved out of the way as Phibes collapsed on the altar and spoke in garbled tones to Rose's body, the cord pulled out of the porthole. Whatever confession in his mind was just for them.

You immediately ran across the cavern to Dr. Vesalius and his son. The surgeon sobbed his thanks to you as you began to work on the younger man. You didn't get the opportunity to heal others often—you were used more as an instrument of destruction than one of renewal—though the capability was always there. You dug deep into the celestial light within you and slowly his wounds knit back together.

Once Lem regained consciousness, Vesalius tugged at the restraints. Another spark of your power severed the chains and set the boy free and before long, father and son scampered up the steps and out of this pit of despair.

Vesalius had grabbed your hand before they had, though.

"Thank you," he said. "You're a hero."

No...you were nothing of the sort.

You walked back to the altar to check on Phibes, only to find his form still as it lay next to his wife.

"Doctor?" you shook him. "Doctor?"

You pushed him onto his side and a knife clattered to the marble floor; you balked at the needle in his arm and a slash in his wrist that lazily dripped...dripped...dripped...

Tubes ran out from the needle and embalming fluid rapidly replaced blood. It hadn't been that long for you to heal Lem had it? Had this always been Phibes' plan if the ritual failed? He was sure that you would be the one...the last step in reuniting him and Rose.

You touched his chest and closed your eyes.

Eight were dead but the first born son lived. The ritual was unsuccessful. The secrets of what really happened would stay buried deep below the city.

You could feel it...the ambient energy stirring around Phibes...slowly leaking from every pore of this mortal prison as his body died and he began his ascent. Anton and his beloved Rose would spend eternity together.

He was a good man, a loving man, led astray...and God was willing to forgive him and let him into Heaven.

You looked around the room again and felt sick.

For all the money that the Catholic Church had, the best they could afford when they sent their attack dog—you—to save the world for the umpteenth time was a crappy roadside motel off the 101.

You were used to uncomfortable plane and train rides, questionable motels and cots shoved into the corners of storage rooms in monasteries and missions when space could be spared.

This was your life though.

You had run from the safety of your Nonna's home when you turned 18 and then again from your little apartment in Hawkins a little over a year ago after Fate finally caught up to you. The next closest thing to...a base of operations, if you could call it that, was a tiny, unkempt bungalow house in a small suburb in Chicago that you barely set foot in because evil reared its ugly head a little too much.

Home was not a luxury you could afford, and even if it was...for you, it wouldn't have been a place, it would have been a person.

So you took comfort after a trying assignment in crappy gas station food and lumpy beds because it reminded you of the home you wish you didn't have to leave behind.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you exclaimed as you kicked the door to your room open and found an unexpected visitor sitting crosslegged on the bed you hadn't claimed for yourself. He held a stack of palm branches in his hand, a small pile of folded crosses placed neatly beside him.

"Watch the way you talk," he began. "Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth."

"Is it not a little...weird for you to quote the Bible?" you asked.

"I didn't write it," he replied simply.

"Well your boss did." You fell onto the unoccupied bed and sighed. You didn't know if it was just the adrenaline finally wearing off after a successful end to your task—if you could call it successful—or something else. Something within you felt like you were...trapped under water.

"He did not either," he dismissed and went back to folding crosses. "You're planning to visit the cemetery." It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

"Yes."

"When?"

"Before Easter, if Jinette doesn't have another errand for me to run." You fished a bottle of YooHoo from your bag of snacks and offered one to him. His lips quirked and in a blink, all of the palms were folded into neat crosses and he was on his feet.

"Good." He stared at you blankly, expectantly, and it made you feel claustrophobic.

His presence was greater than what was apparent to the naked eye, and in times like these where he was about to spring something on you, your soul could sense the swell of his being. It never got easier.

"I know this isn't a social call or a job well done for preventing the destruction of the Earth for the hundredth time," you begin and cover your face with your hands. "I'm tired, so if you could please just—"

"You say that a lot," he noted.

"What?"

"That you're tired."

"It happens when you're a human," you retort.

"Then you will do well to listen to me now," he says gravely. You peek through your fingers to look at him. "Something is coming. Something bigger than you've ever encountered before."

"Shit, really?" you asked. "When will I have to go?"

"You won't," he stated with an air of finality. "Or else, you will die."

Your hands fell from your face as your ears started to ring and your pulse pounded in your head.

You'd heard many warnings in the past, throughout your life, from him. Pain, suffering, duty. This was the first time he had ever warned you of your death.

Why now? After all of the other missions you'd been given, after facing Hell on Earth dozens of times...

You always knew it was a possibility...but a guarantee?

"W-when...why...when?"

"Soon."

That was helpful. You couldn't even prepare. It would be sprung on you. The next time you were called into action maybe? Or the time after that?

"So I just...I tell...tell Jinette o-or whatever Bishop that I can—” you stammered and he cut you off.

"This is not something that they will ask you to do," he explained. "This is something you will feel compelled to do. Strongly compelled. But you must heed my warning, young one. For you will perish and damnation will surely await you."

"I don't understand," you squeezed your eyes shut. "Isn't...isn't it already awaiting me? What makes this any different?"

"Because it will hurt. It will destroy you." What would...the task? Or the damnation? There was a rustle of wings and a roar of fire in your ears. "Do not be afraid."

They were words you had never heard from his mouth, but you knew he had said them before.

When you opened your eyes, he was gone, and you were left in the motel room alone.

"Gabriel?" You called for him, like you used to when you were a child and nightmares of monsters and demons plagued you. When you used to look for comfort when your father was off on a quest so similar to your own and your mother had no way to sooth you on her own. "Gabriel!"

March 27th, 1986

You knew from the moment you woke up that morning, something was off. As though you were operating on a different frequency than usual. You felt simultaneously sluggish and as though lightning surged just beneath your skin.

It didn't happen often, if ever really, which is what caused some alarm.

Perhaps when you were much younger and your abilities began to manifest. The holy light within you couldn't be contained by such a young body. It had led to massacres and miracles alike.

You remembered seeing Empire Strikes Back for the first time and feeling a kinship with Luke. "Luminous beings are we, not this cruel matter," a phrase you muttered to yourself often, taking comfort in the Light, when your future could only possibly be shrouded in Darkness.

It had taken years to control it, and you were well past grown now, but somehow you couldn't just shake the feeling that plagued you today. It was as though your fight or flight response was primed and ready, despite no danger in sight.

If Archbishop Jinette was any sort of reliable figure in your life, you would have confided in him. Looked to him for guidance. For help. Instead, you'd sat in his office with him for the past hour as he debriefed and lectured you—reamed you—for your handling of Phibes and the ritual.

"It was, quite frankly, irresponsible," he said for the tenth time. His cassock swished around him as he paced before you. "The number of innocent lives that could have been lost."

You rolled your eyes, fully of the belief that he wouldn't have given a shit about any other lives lost at all. You used to give Jinette—give all of your handlers—the benefit of the doubt, used to believe that they cared about innocents. Maybe they had once, but now it was twisted by the power their positions afforded them.

Once they donned a pectoral cross, guilt no longer affected them. It was only a tool used to bend others to their will.

"How can we rely on you to your duty fully if you take the time to negotiate?" He asked. "If you try to reason with agents of evil?"

"Phibes was not evil. He mentioned that God led him to this path," you interjected, and Jinette stopped in his tracks. "That He led Phibes to the ritual in order to reunite him with his wife."

"They would be reunited in Heaven," Jinette dismissed with a hiss. He turned his judgmental, wet eyes to you and glared pointedly. You knew exactly the warning he was trying to convey and you straightened your shoulders.

"It must have been the devil in disguise. Trickery. You, more than anyone, should know how easy it is to fall for temptation." The burn of his stare became righteous, but it was not what caused you to turn your eyes downward.

Was temptation really so bad if it brought you peace? If it made you feel more whole than you'd ever felt in your life? A year with Eddie and you felt sure in your skin, safe, loved. Was that bad? Did that make you evil?

You had let your pain get the best of you in the moment, but after a few days of clarity...Phibes had been right...

What you wouldn't give right now to be back there? To be anywhere but here?

It was regret.

There was a sharp knock at the office door and Jinette sighed and looked at the clock.

"It is time for Mass," he announced. "Think on your sins and the Lord may offer his forgiveness."

After he vacated the office, you forced yourself to your feet, trudged through the rectory, and into the cathedral where you slid into one of the last pews. You would hardly consider yourself a devout attendee—certainly not as you disassociated through the psalms and readings—but you knew if you missed Mass after your supposed sins, there would be Hell to pay.

"...Jesus knew that his hour had come to pass from this world. He loved his own in this world and he loved them til the end..."

You'd heard this Mass before, the Mass of the Lord's Supper. Not your typical Sunday service, so you couldn’t recite it verbatim, but familiar enough. Your Nonna dragged you to as many masses as she could, in every language offered at the local parish, hoping to spare you of this fate in a way she couldn't spare her son or her husband.

Over the years, her hand shrunk in yours. What was once a healthy, strong hand that guided you became small and weak, shriveled and brittle. Until one day, there was no hand left to hold at all.

"...I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do."

You spotted a group of women further up the aisle. Novitiates, probably. You could sense a tenuous peace about them. One could tell she was being watched and she turned to look at you. She was young, maybe around your age, and her eyes were wide and curious.

You tried to smile at her, encourage her—it was all you could do not to scream, actually—but she rolled her eyes a little and turned back around.

The sound of rustling bodies washed through the Cathedral like a wave as everyone got to their feet—

"Pray my Sisters and Brothers that my sacrifice and yours should be acceptable to God, The Father, Almighty."

—and as you rose, your stomach dropped.

Your body burned.

It felt like a thousand cuts were made along your skin. You gasped for breath but could find no air. Your bones cracked and crunched beneath an invisible weight, and the pressure felt as though your sides would split and your insides spill out through phantom wounds.

You fell to your knees and grasped the back of the pew in front of you. You tried to make a noise, to call for help, but nothing could overcome the rumble of the congregants.

"Lord have Mercy. Christ have Mercy."

The polished wood splintered under your grip before the world went dark.

When your eyes opened, you were met with a muted haze. A dark sky, with clouds that shifted in tandem with the howling wind, sizzled with infernal lightning over and over.

You laid on cold, damp ground. You could feel it seep through your clothes and leech into your skin, deeper and deeper, until it settled uneasily in your bones. An acrimonious rigor that would have overtaken you had you allowed it.

Something deep within your subconscious wanted you to.

You needed to gain control quickly.

Your fingers dug into the thick, unforgiving clay of the earth beneath you, and you pushed yourself upright, only to be met with a chilling sight that made your heart stop in your chest.

His was body was aligned with yours, the soles of his feet just inches away from brushing against you. His skin was pale and smeared with gore, and his ripped clothes belied the true extent of his injuries. He choked on his blood with fit of coughs, too wet for a death rattle. He was practically drowning in his own life's essence.

Eddie Munson lay dying in front of you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Your mind raced. Was this a vision? A prophecy? The gift of sight had never been one you could tap into before. Why now?

Was this a warning? If you didn't stay on the path He had in store for you, didn't listen to those He tasked to guide you, would this be your future?

You could hear a voice—an ominous, venomous voice—at the very corners of your mind, speaking to Eddie.

They left you behind. Left you to this fate. Left you to me.

What did that mean? You didn't leave Eddie. Not really. A part of you would always be with him.

You struggled and scrambled to get to his side. Your hands were unsure of where to touch him, how you could let him know you would be there without bringing him more pain.

He looked up at you with unseeing eyes.

"Eddie, please, please," you begged. "I'm here, I'm here with you."

His eyes wrenched shut and he cried out, mouth opening in a feral, heartbreaking howl.

To do with you what I please.

You knew it wasn't the Devil's voice. He wouldn't taunt and tease this way. It had to be some other malevolent creature who tried to get an innocent soul in its' clutches.

You closed your eyes and concentrated, tried to pour as much of your light into Eddie as you could, but despite his body being torn open the way that it was, he simply would not receive the help you could give.

You knew you couldn't leave him.

But Eddie was already gone.

And do to you, I shall...

When you came to, mass was over.

The closing hymn, heavy with organ song, rang throughout the cathedral as the procession made its way back up the aisle. You watched as Jinette glared at your prone form, laying on the pew, as he passed, but a light voice offered a distraction.

"Slowly, there you go, wake up," it said. A small, strong hand shook your shoulder then carefully tapped your face. "Sister Margaret went to call an ambulance."

"No," you groaned. "No ambulance. I'm fine." You immediately tried to push yourself upright, but the hands held you down to the pew.

"Don't get up, I don't know if you hit your head."

"I don't think so," you muttered. The pain that had wracked your body was nothing but a memory, a tell tale static that surrounded you, much the same way it would if your foot fell asleep.

You finally got your wits about you and found that your savior was the young woman you spotted earlier. Hell, if she didn't already think you were some creep off the street who'd wandered into the cathedral before...

"You're a part of the Order, right?" she asked disarmingly and pointed down to the small medallion that must have escaped from the confines of your shirt when you collapsed. Your hand immediately went to it and tucked it back into its hiding place; it was a reminder...a shackle. "A Knight of the Holy Order. Mother Superior said to steer clear of you if we ever crossed paths with you. She didn't say much else.

"I never thought I'd see one...just...pass out during mass."

"We're normal people," you sighed. "Not...Gods."

"Saints?"

"Sinners," you clarified and she laughed lightly.

"Yeah, me too" she agreed then frowned again. "Do you feel well enough to sit up?”

"I'm fine, just...tired," you explained and pushed her away from you. "I need to get back..."

"Back home?" she asked eagerly.

"Back to my motel." You got to your feet as the organ music stopped and the last few stragglers left. "Thank you for staying with me..."

"Oh...uh...Mary...Victoria..." she provided her name and you must have made a face. "I'm still working on it. I know I have time. But Victoria was my grandmother's name...so..."

"Well, I think it's a lovely name then," you offered a tight smile and your own name, then shuffled past her to make your escape. "See you around Mary Victoria."

March 30th, 1986

In the days following Holy Thursday, something was still off.

You had woken up the following morning with a sore jaw and a hoarse voice. Sometime later that day, you'd started crying blood. Only for an hour, but there was no controlling it. You were overwhelmed with emotion.

Hopelessness was the most prominent of them all.

You hadn't blacked out again, but something lingered beneath the surface. Given Gabriel's warning, you figured it would be best to lay low.

You knew it was a futile attempt to try and summon Gabriel again; he appeared when he felt like it or when it would best serve God.

The only time you’d ever desperately called for him, as fire almost consumed you and damp earth threatened to bury you alive, it had fallen on indifferent ears. It was then that you realized stories about Guardian Angels were just that: stories.

So instead, you went about your day as you typically would. Unless you were summoned somewhere by the clergy, they generally left you to your own devices. Especially on Holy Days like today.

Your plans for Easter Sunday specifically consisted of visiting the local cemeteries—

You would miss mass at the Cathedral today. Running your hands along the marble headstones and brass nameplates of those long-since-passed-and-forgotten and offering them a thought or two brought you more peace than any prayer or blessing would.

—and getting absolutely hammered.

You weren't a big drinker, really, since you typically were expected to have your wits about you. But it was a Holiday and you were far from home and alone. You made a blind choice at the liquor store on your way back from the cemetery, and it would numb you either to the point of blacking out, or make you give into your temptations to call Eddie.

You'd been thinking about him more lately.

Well...that was a lie, you always thought about him. Thought about calling, about visiting. You knew you couldn't trust yourself, so you did what you could to keep him safe. You skipped the letter M in the phonebook on the off chance he had finally made it out of Hawkins to follow his dream. Made it a point not to drive through Indiana if you could help it.

Maybe you didn't want to help it anymore. Maybe you should...maybe not visit...just call him.

Someone had left behind an honest-to-God glass in your motel room, and after a thorough cleaning, you poured yourself a helping of the nondescript amber liquid. It burned on the way down. Maybe it was a warning about the bad decisions that lay ahead of you.

You'd been tempted to call for his birthday last year, for Christmas...you sent a card. No return address, no name. Just a heart. You hoped he knew it was you because he always said your hearts looked like butts.

Another glass and you stood in front of the nightstand. You stared, transfixed, at the dingy rotary phone as you sipped your drink, savoring the burn this time. As if it had a mind of its own, your hand moved to grab the handset, but it just hovered for a moment.

How would Eddie answer? What would you say? What if it wasn't Eddie at all, what if it was Wayne? What if Wayne told you...that Eddie was spending Easter at a girlfriend's house? What would you do? What could you do? You practically forced him to say that he would wait for you...could you really blame him if he didn't?

Next to the phone was the remote for the television.

You hadn't really left him much hope after all.

You grabbed the remote and mindlessly aimed it behind you to turn the small set on. As it came to life and started bleating a commercial for some local restaurant, you momentarily prayed that it wasn't one of those Biblical epics, like The Greatest Story Ever Told.

Instead, the commercial ended and, as you poured yourself one more glass, the sterile voice of a newscaster reached your ears.

"...currently 68 degrees at the Los Angeles Civic Center. Lovely weather for Easter Sunday. For our top story, we bring you live to our own Robert Gilroy in Roane County, Indiana. Rob?"

You turned in shock and stared, dumbfounded, as the screen flashed to show a severe man in a brown suit. He frowned at the camera while a convoy of cars inched by behind him. You couldn't help but notice plumes of black smoke in the distance and you hoped that it was just a defect with the cheap motel tv.

"Thank you Laura. It's been less than 48 hours since a 7.4 Magnitude Earthquake rocked the quaint town of Hawkins, 80 miles outside of Indianapolis in an event that seismologists are calling a natural disaster of near unprecedented scale."

A wash of colorful stripes rolled across the screen before it showed b-roll of people running and crying, of a team of firefighters desperately trying to extinguish the burning Hawkins Public Library building, that was half rubble anyway, a man in camo bandaging a little girl's leg.

"The death toll now stands at 22, but with hundreds more filling Roane County hospitals and many more still missing, officials expect those numbers to rise."

You immediately dropped your glass and turned back to the phone, fumbling with the rotary dial to input a number you knew by heart.

"Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up." You listened as the ringing went on and on and on. You hung up and dialed again, and you desperately hoped you just got the number wrong. You screamed as it didn't even ring, but blared a taunting busy signal. "No! No! Who are you talking to? Pick up!"

"This is only the latest tragedy to befall this once safe town. Most recently, a string of high school students were killed in a series of ritualistic murders which have been linked to a local Satanic cult known as Hellfire."

Your blood ran cold at the word Hellfire and you refused to look at the television.

There was more b-roll, some chitter chatter saying how the Hellfire boys were always up to no good. How some upstanding students were killed, taken too soon.

Your breathing got heavy, enough that you started becoming lightheaded. The alcohol didn't help at all.

You tried to savor the last few minutes of ignorance as you wrenched your eyes shut, because if you didn't see it. It wasn't real.

"Eddie Munson, the leader of this cult and prime suspect in the murders..."

But you knew. You knew that this was the moment. You knew that this was what Gabriel meant. If you went to Hawkins, if you had to fight for Eddie, you would do it in a heartbeat and you wouldn't stop until you died.

"...has been missing since the earthquake..."

Those seconds that the reporter needed to take his dramatic breath were an eternity, one you would savor. Because it was easier to pretend that the only thing you had to do was just stop yourself from going to Hawkins, stop yourself from being selfish and wrathful, to punish those who would accuse the sweet, dumb, foolish, clumsy, trustworthy innocent love of your life.

It was just easier if you still lived in a world where you didn't have to hear what you knew was coming next.

"...and is presumed dead."

People often mistook the power of heaven to be one of peace, of hope, of new beginnings. And it could be. It usually was. But they forgot that the beginning of one thing was also the end of something else.

Divine retribution, a burning smiting wrath, the like of which had leveled Sodom and Gomorrah, flowed freely with your grief. It was illogical and irrational and inexplicable to any mortal, including you.

You remembered screaming.

Remembered the pain of the bones in your fingers splintering as you dug them into your skull. Your nails cut deep into the flesh of your scalp as you peeled the hair and flesh, as you opened the top of yourself to release the pressure that had suddenly and violently built up in your core.

Glass disintegrated into sand, furniture turned to ash, even the frame of the building began to buckle.

But there was a voice that called your name. A soft, sobbing voice that pulled you back from the edge of whatever precipice you subconsciously teetered on.

"It’ll be ok. I’m here."

You could practically feel arms slither around you, the phantom weight of them pressed into your skin. Dextrous fingers wove together with yours, soothed them, healed them. They caressed your wounds and the broken flesh stitched itself back together.

A cool breath grazed your ear and the screams that ripped from you began to subside. It shushed you and said unascertainable words of comfort as your fury subsided into woe.

"Close your eyes. It'll all go away if you don't look."

"But you're gone," you wept. The tears rolled down your cheeks and over your lips. You sniffled and licked at them; blood, again. "Why?"

There was no answer. You were about to open your eyes, eager to see and not just to feel, but the fingers glided over your face again. Over your cheeks to wipe the blood from them, over your lips to play with the softness of them, then over your eyelids.

Places he liked to kiss...places you wished you could feel lips instead...wished you could know that he was there.

"I'll never really leave. Even if you can't see me. I’m here.”

Every fiber of your being wanted to go, would have walked to Hawkins, run til your feet bled, to find his body. To clear his name. To say goodbye.

To die a most miserable death. Like Phibes and his Rose.

You would leave this world, happily, if it meant you could be by his side. But there was no guarantee. You could toil for a lifetime and hope to join him, and still be denied access to Heaven.

“I’ll be waiting for you. As long as it takes. I’ll be here.”

You heard the lovely whisper of your name, over and over as you sunk to your knees and you curled in on yourself. Every second it faded into the depths of your mind, and you couldn't help but crack your eyes open.

Lightning struck, the firefighters would explain to you later, on a clear day. The building went ablaze and was destroyed, but all the rooms were empty except for yours. The paramedics said it was a miracle you weren't injured. They touched you lightly, almost reverently.

"Hallelujah."

You were alone again.

It was a disquieting procession.

The creatures moved in a way that seemed unnatural, unfamiliar to them. Their feet shuffled across the barren waste and they dragged a hulking beast behind them. It was a large and ominous and twitching thing, and although the formality of this event it felt like a funeral, you knew that you were witnessing a birth instead.

The wings conjured images of Beelzebub...but Asmodeus felt like a more fitting comparison given how familiar you were with the inner workings of its mind.

Thinking of him as Beast or It was wrong. It felt sinewy and astringent. A bite you were reluctant to take.

You bore witness for three days.

It took two to break him, but images would haunt your mind and your heart for eternity. You tried to protect him, tried to undo what was done. You offered him comfort and a place to hide when he desperately needed a break he would never get.

How he had survived it, you would never know? But he was always stronger than you; if not in body, then in spirit. You never lasted long before you were forced to pull him back in. If you had remained, given him a longer rest, you knew you would have broken before he did.

He finally begged for mercy. He finally relinquished his soul.

You would stay beside him. No matter what they did to him. No matter what he did to himself.

They dragged him to their pit to put him back together again, and you forced yourself to watch, to listen, and to pray that every addition and alteration would stick. That he wouldn't have gone through the torture only to perish so close to the end of it.

You wondered where prayers went when they were made in Hell. Did they reach God's ears? Were they intercepted by Lucifer and his court? Or did they just...float in the void of oblivion?

He muttered words, you'd even heard your name escape his lips several times before they filled his mouth with too many teeth to speak.

By the end of the third day, he rose again.

And you sobbed in relief because somehow the sight of him complete, the sight of him rising and blinking and roaring brought you more comfort and warmth and joy than you had ever felt in your cursed existence.

It didn't matter how grim of vision he was. There was a beauty in that too. The beauty existed...simply because he still did.

Whatever they did to him, he was alive, and he would always be your Eddie. And that meant you had a chance to save him.

“When you loved someone, you put their needs before your own. No matter how inconceivable those needs were; no matter how fucked up; no matter how much it made you feel like you were ripping yourself into pieces.” — Jodi Picoult, The Pact

Special thanks to @big-ope-vibes and @pastel-pillows who can read even though she says she does not. And @fracturedarkness who I am determined to destroy/delight with this story.

Next Chapter: Illumination

#vampire eddie munson #vampire!eddie #kas!eddie #Eddie Munson fic #tw: death #tw: violence #tw: religious themes #stranger things fic #tw: suicide

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