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#when i realized i could stack all the heals i wanted on someone but with max stacks of black breath it will not do shit
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🖊️ for Est?
est :D
she needs to figure out that she's mostly just dps, and That's Fine, Actually. she can do a little healing (story wise anyway lol. when i go raiding she mostly heals), but she's not really good at it. she doesn't take naturally to it and she never really studied it either, and she tries to make up for that with stubbornness and nothing else, which doesn't always work out. she'll jump into healing when she's panicking sometimes- and sometimes it is admittedly necessary to go about things that way- and she'll go around offering it after a fight or something bc she feels like she's obligated to bc she can (and sometimes also bc it's pretty much the only thing she can do at all), but it's still very much not her Thing; a far cry from her storm affinity
some of her trying to like. fill every role at once was an offshoot of how much time she's spent just on her own, traveling and adventuring and, most recently, Being The PC lol. even when she works with other people for a bit, it hasn't often been long-term nor in groups where she can safely just let someone else handle it entirely
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thelostmagicians · 11 months
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Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington
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Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]
Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve
The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about. 
He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings. 
So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship. 
_
The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings. 
“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart. 
“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.   
You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him. 
_
But that was a year ago. 
Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.
“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”
Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval. 
“What are you even talking about?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”
“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.
“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”
Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”
You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.
“Oh please you can’t be serious.”
You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home. 
The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!
Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold. 
You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.
You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug. 
“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease. 
Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down. 
“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup. 
She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside. 
“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in. 
Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”
“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath. 
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”
“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”
You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”
Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”
“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself. 
She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”
Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”
“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”
Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.   
This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did. 
You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck. 
“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger. 
You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”
Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit. 
The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile. 
Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something. 
Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off. 
“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.
Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.
You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”
Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait. 
“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”
Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.” 
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”
He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him. 
They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere. 
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buckybabesonly · 2 years
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Heart of Glass
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Summary: You hate it when Bucky is mad, but it's a thousand times worse when you're the one he's mad at.
Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff
Warnings: Insecure reader, self-deprecation, self-harm (?)
A/N: I love stories like these so thought I'd take a stab at it. Please do leave feedback, they are always encouraging!
Length: 4.8k
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It had taken Bucky a long time to open up to you. His journey of being able to face what he had done as the Winter Soldier was long and arduous, and still ongoing. He had vivid nightmares, ones which alleviated in frequency over the course of the last few years, but which still sometimes made an unwelcome appearance.
His own healing was a work in progress, so it was no surprise that it was still a struggle for him to divulge certain aspects to you. He found it difficult letting himself be vulnerable, even around people he trusted, and insight into his past had been offered to you in scattered pieces.
You had been patient, although you wished that Bucky would feel comfortable revealing more. You never judged him, and you just wanted to help and do your part in the recovery process, if you could. It was much worse hearing the exacerbated, hateful stories of the Winter Soldier from other people’s mouths - the Internet was a horrid place, and whilst there were still a lot of people who supported Bucky Barnes and the Avengers in general, there were just as many people who would not forgive him for being the Winter Soldier.
You knew that you shouldn’t have done what you did. You and Bucky had been together for just over a year, friends for three times that long. It hadn’t all been flowers and rainbows - it had been a tumultuous relationship and you had had your ups and downs, but at the end of the day, you knew you had found your person. You were both learning and growing together, navigating the tougher obstacles in your relationship with enthusiasm. You had finally found someone you were truly madly in love with, and you felt so lucky.
It wasn’t easy, working for S.H.I.E.L.D as an agent which was a demanding career in itself, and dating someone who was almost in constant danger and carrying out often life-threatening missions. But you made it work. Getting to love Bucky and have him love you back was worth anything, and you loved being able to see him smile and, what’s more, being his reason to smile.
On the same token, you hated seeing him unhappy. It was the most devastating feeling in the world, in times when he was disappointed in himself, or when he had woken up from a particularly bad nightmare, or after one of his mandated therapy sessions. 
The worst thing was seeing him mad. And it’s a thousand times worse when you’re the one he’s mad at.
You knew that you shouldn’t have done it. You felt guilty as you passed your colleagues desk and your eyes naturally flickered to a familiar name in recognition. BARNES, JAMES BUCHANAN.
You frowned slightly, realizing that his file was on a pile alongside a couple of other familiar names. It wasn’t unusual for another agent to have his file out, particularly if he was looking into specific incidents that Bucky may have been involved in the past, but you had never actually seen it in front of you before.
Of course, it would have been easy for you to find the file and look for yourself. Everything had electronic copies these days, or you could have grabbed the physical copies from the archive. But you had never done it, as it just didn’t feel right. Reading up on your boyfriend’s past like his life was a history book.
Still, despite yourself, you paused. You found your hand reaching out and you took a deep breath of momentary hesitation before you flicked open the file. 
An assortment of photos and documents were stacked neatly inside. You couldn’t help it as you found your eyes consuming the information, flicking from page to page. The guilt was building in your gut the longer you spent, standing slightly crouched over the desk, consuming the information with an uncomfortable lump in your throat.
You wanted to cry. You felt your hate for HYDRA increase ten-fold, thinking about all the pain they inflicted on Bucky to manipulate him into their own personal killing machine, thinking about how they had simply made him hurt all those people. Bucky often had the most stoic, cool exterior, but you knew inside he was just your soft, gentle boyfriend. The most beautiful man you knew had been forced to be an assassin against his will.
And now he had to live with the consequences. It’s so unfair, you thought as tears of anger pricked your eyes. You were a very empathetic person, especially when it came to him, and you found yourself feeling quietly furious.
You slammed the file shut, conflicted emotions making you feel both angry and guilty. You always had an idea of what HYDRA had made Bucky do, of course, but actually consuming the detail within his file had made it come to life in your mind. All you wanted during the course of your time with Bucky was to get a better view from his shoes, if only to help you relate a bit more to his suffering. You loved him so much and you wanted nothing more than to help him.
At the same time, you knew it wasn’t right, snooping like this. You always told yourself to just wait, and eventually Bucky would trust you enough to share everything. 
You started to wonder if you had done something wrong as you slowly walked away from the desk, nibbling your bottom lip. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, frowning as the contents of the file plagued your mind. You decided you would have to come clean to Bucky about this.
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“What?” Bucky said quietly, cocking his head to the side as if he really had genuinely misheard you. However, as you studied the look in his eyes, you knew that he had heard every word.
“I know it was wrong. Bucky, I’m - “
“If you knew it was wrong, then why did you do it?” Bucky interrupted, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. Anger was starting to distort his face, and he kept his voice quiet and low.
You were mute for a long minute, your cheeks flushing as he stared at you, waiting for you to speak. You were both stood in your bedroom, you with your back against the window and his against the door. The distance between you felt painful.
“Do you know what a violation of my privacy that is?” he continued when you didn’t speak, his jaw twitching.
“I was just trying to - just trying to understand,” you said, trying to find the right words. “I just thought that if I knew what they did to you, then I could help you.”
“How would you be able to help?” Bucky was furious, but in that quiet, almost calm way that frightened you the most. His brow was slightly furrowed, corners of lips turned down into a frown, but the biggest giveaway was his clenched fists. They were shaking almost impercetibly.
It was scarier when he didn’t raise his voice, and your fingers twitched uncomfortably by your sides, wanting to reach out to him.
“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I thought that if I could understand what happened, then maybe I could help with your nightmares, help talk to you about the past.”
Bucky exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “Are you my therapist? What were you hoping to do, read my entire past and diagnose me?” He regarded you with a look of bewilderment and fury.
“No, I - “
“No, listen,” Bucky said, frustration rising in his throat, breaking his barely composed facade. “Do you have any idea how messed up that is? There’s a reason why I didn’t tell you everything at my own pace, and you went behind my back and fucking investigated me? How do you think that makes me feel? You couldn’t even respect me enough to let me tell you out of my own choice!”
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You knew you had fucked up majorly. He was glaring at you, waiting for you to say something.
“I’m so sorry, Buck. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I just - “
“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky spat out. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t have any bad intentions. You think I’m proud of what I did as the fucking Winter Soldier? It haunts me, and I have to live with him for the rest of my fucking life. I - I trusted you, and you betrayed it.”
I let out a slight whimper at his words, knowing the venomous words he was spitting out was completely true. 
“I have to fight so hard, every day, not to fall apart with the knowledge and memories of what the Winter Soldier did, what I did.” 
“Bucky, please,” you said, taking a step forward, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that, I am so, so sorry.”
Bucky shook his head, moving away from me and lifting his hands as a warning. “Don’t. Just - don’t.”
He turned his back, making to leave. 
“Can we just talk about this?” you asked desperately, not wanting him to go. You were terrified that he wouldn’t come back.
“I need some space,” Bucky said sharply without turning to look back at you. He left and pulled the door shut with such force that you jumped, tears finally escaping.
You had no idea how you were going to fix this.
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Bucky and you had one rule. Never go to bed angry at each other.
It was a rule you had instigated. You hated going to bed whilst you were in the throes of a fight, and the first time you had argued - something petty, really - you had pouted at Bucky and demanded that you make up. 
He was relieved at that time as it was such a silly fight and he was anxious that you would give him the silent treatment. But he laughed as you jumped into his arms, kissing his cheek and letting him know all was forgiven.
“New rule - we can’t go to bed angry at each other,” you had announced at the time.
“Yes, my liege,” Bucky had responded.
Bucky wasn’t answering your calls or texts. You left 15 voicemails and 24 text messages, all apologizing and asking him to talk. You knew you should give him space, as it was only fair for him to digest what had happened and process, but you felt like you couldn’t function.
You wanted him by your side so you could apologize over and over again and tell him, genuinely, how regretful you were.
There was no excuse. Your face was tear-stained and eyes puffy as you paced your apartment, the clock having struck midnight a long time ago, with no sight of Bucky.
When four AM rolled round, you finally passed out on the couch whilst waiting for him. When your alarm rudely woke you up at seven, you startled and immediately ran into the bedroom, although you knew he wouldn’t be there.
The bed was empty, still made from the previous morning and untouched.
You could cry all over again.
You hurried to get ready nonetheless, and made your way to the Avengers Tower. You were involved in some S.H.I.E.L.D projects that were being hosted there, and you knew it was the place Bucky was most likely to be.
You checked your phone obsessively on the way to the Tower. No calls or messages from Bucky.
You groaned internally. He had never ignored you like this before. The gravity of the situation was slowly growing heavier and heavier - he was your Bucky, the one who always took care of you and worried over you and was by your side almost 24/7 whenever he wasn’t out on a mission, but now he was actively avoiding you. 
More and more fear started to creep into the mix alongside the guilt. Would Bucky leave you over this?
When you arrived at the Tower, you expected it to be a lot harder to find him than it was. But he was in the training room, the first place you looked.
“Bucky,” you said quietly as soon as you saw him. He was serving blows mercilessly to a punching bag hung from the ceiling, as if he needed the practice. You knew he was letting off steam. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair hanging over his forehead in sweaty tendrils, his face slightly red. 
Bucky barely even flinched. He didn’t acknowledge you at all, eyes never leaving the bag in front of him.
“Can we talk?” you asked tentatively. 
No response.
“Bucky, if you don’t reply, I’m just going to start talking at you, and I really don’t want to do that,” you said. All you wanted him to do was at least look at you.
Bucky stopped then and you heaved a sigh of relief. But instead of speaking, he simply wrapped a towel around his shoulders and turned his back on you, leaving out of the door on the other side of the room.
You felt rocks fall to the bottom of your stomach, and the urge to cry reared its ugly head yet again.
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Bucky hadn’t spoken to you for two days. He hadn’t returned to your apartment for two days.
You had cried all of those days. You tried to find him and corner him to make him face you, but after that day in the training room, he had really been avoiding you. You had only seen him once in those two days, and he immediately disappeared as soon as he saw you.
It hurt so much. Like someone had stabbed you and, what’s more, was twisting the handle. 
You knew you deserved it. You had really hurt Bucky, but part of you was still terrified of what he would do. How long would he wait until he decided to speak to you again? Was he going to break up with you?
You didn’t know how to fix it. You were ashamed to tell Sam, even though you wanted to ask his advice on what to do. You had done something so bad that you didn’t want to face his disappointment, too, although you were certain Bucky may have already told him.
Still, it hurt so bad. All you wanted Bucky to do was hug you and tell you it was alright, instead you were met with indifference and the back of his head. He wouldn’t even look at you. 
You would rather he shouted at you, screamed at you, anything to actually make him talk and acknowledge your existence. But he continued to ice you out, and your heart was breaking.
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Bucky knew he loved you even before you officially became a couple. He loved how funny you were, how hard working you were, how you always listened to his side of the story, how you took care of him and patiently explained anything to him that he still didn’t quite understand about the modern world.
There were a lot of great women, but to Bucky, you had stood out. From day one, you had cared about him. Little things, like asking about his favorite songs from the 40s, making sure his head was covered with your umbrella when it was raining even though your shoulder was getting wet, ensuring he got three solid meals a day and that his favorite snacks were stored in the pantry.
Bigger things, too, like letting him share the burden of his past with you without ever a word of judgment or disdain, encouraging him to visit his parents’ grave on the anniversary of their death and making the journey with him, sharing memories of Steve whenever Bucky was missing him. You were his rock, and he felt like he had mined the most precious diamond.
He knew he could tell you anything, but his sordid past as the Winter Soldier was still something he was trying to overcome himself. He was ashamed, and part of him was worried that you would suddenly think less of him. See him as the monster that he used to be, the monster that he sometimes saw himself as.
He hated the thought of poisoning your mind with unsavory images of himself and the knowledge of what he had done.
He was so angry to know that you saw his file. But the majority of his feelings came from the fact that he was so laden with guilt. He didn’t want you to know the ugly truth when all you had seen of him so far was the better version of himself that he was trying to be.
How could he forget his past when you knew every disgusting detail now, too? When you had now also seen the faces of all the people he had killed?
At the same time, he believed you when you said you were just trying to help. That was just your nature. He knew that you genuinely thought if you understood, you could offer assistance and ease his silent torment.
But anger prevailed, and he found himself ignoring you for days, even though he felt so immature doing it. He just couldn’t face you right now, even as you stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He could barely avoid meeting your gaze and instead chose to turn away completely, as if pretending you weren’t there would alleviate the pain. He was afraid that if he looked at you a little too long, his resolve would shatter.
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It was exceptionally poor timing that your birthday rolled around after five days of total radio silence from Bucky. You had forgotten, actually, until you entered the Tower and a fellow agent had wished you a happy birthday. 
You gave her a weak smile as you muttered some made up plans about how you would be celebrating. 
You wanted to burst out crying when you saw Bucky that morning, in the kitchen at the Tower.
He was leaning against the kitchen island, a smile on his face, a smile you hadn’t seen for almost a week. He was talking to an agent, a decent girl you had worked with before. You liked her, actually, as did a lot of people. He was talking to her about something, looking more relaxed than you had seen him since you had the fight.
He hadn’t noticed you as you observed the two of them. You didn’t think anything flirtatious was going on, but still, it hurt to see him smiling softly at someone else when he hadn’t paid you any attention for so long.
Part of you wasn’t sure if Bucky was going to speak to you today. But it was your birthday, after all - he always made a big deal out of it, asking you what you wanted to do and making sure you got a cake and flowers and all the romantic works. He always told you that you were his greatest gift, and so he couldn’t miss celebrating the day that you were brought into the world.
If he didn’t speak to you today, you think you would be sick.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize the agent Bucky was talking to was leaving, and as she walked past you, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you. You met his gaze hesitantly, blinking wordlessly.
He paused, and you could almost see the gears turning in his brain as he decided what to do.
His smile dissipated, and he turned his back on you.
When you returned home that night, you cried your eyes out. You sat on the couch forlornly, staring at the door, half-expecting him to burst through at any moment with an apology and kisses waiting to be pressed onto your lips.
Midnight struck, and you went to bed alone.
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Six days.
Bucky had not spoken to you in six days, and honestly, he felt like shit.
He had never been so angry at you before, but he was surprised at himself that his silent streak had lasted so long. To be honest, the time had passed quickly, as he had kept himself as busy as possible. 
As Bucky came down from his angry high, the feeling of guilt and sadness overwhelmed him at the thought of you being unhappy. He knew that this period of time would be tough on you, although he stood by his point that you should not have read his file behind his back, especially as you knew how sensitive he was about his past.
And yet, ultimately, he recalled that you only had his best interests at heart, even if you were going about it the wrong way. He sighed as he approached the Tower elevator, stepping inside just as Sam came running down the hallway, shouting at him to hold.
Bucky stabbed the close door button repeatedly, cursing as Sam slid past just in the nick of time, punching him playfully.
“You in a mood, princess?” he snickered, taking note of the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes. “You been up all night with your girl?”
Bucky let out a tsk. He sighed as the elevator descended.
“No. Haven’t spoken to her actually,” he admitted.
“Woah, wait. What do you mean?” Sam asked when he realized Bucky was being serious.
“Had a fight,” Bucky said reluctantly.
Sam frowned lightly. “On her birthday?”
Bucky froze as he opened his mouth to clarify that the fight had began a few days ago. His mind racked to confirm today’s date.
Shit. It was your birthday yesterday.
“Oh fuck,” Bucky said, head lolling back to bash against the glass elevator wall. 
“You okay, man?” Sam asked, clearly concerned.
“I messed up,” he sighed in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, now he wanted to cry. How could he do this to you? He was already beginning to feel like he’d gone overboard with his reaction as the days passed and the red haze of anger dissolved from his eyes, clouding his better judgment, but now he truly felt like he had gone about everything so wrongly. 
You had always gone on about the importance of communication in a relationship, and how you both needed to work together to overcome any challenges, and that one of the things you valued the most was being open and honest.
He imagined you sat alone at home, on your birthday, waiting expectantly for him to turn up. 
His chest hurt.
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You lay down in bed as the sun set, darkness filling the room.
You had the covers over your head as the tears wet your pillow, your head hurting so much from all the crying and dehydration.
Your world was truly coming down around you. You were about to lose the best thing that had ever happened to you. Bucky was going to leave you, and it was your fault. The past few days had really unveiled your most deep rooted fear, that the love of your life was going to abandon you.
“You’re so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “So stupid. So fucking stupid.”
You ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone. Your friends had been calling you since your birthday yesterday, concerned that you hadn’t picked up even once. You didn’t care. If Bucky wasn’t here, then you just wanted to be alone.
You always knew you weren’t good enough for him. Always knew that he would leave you eventually. Out of all the people in the world, what on earth would make him choose you?
You threw the covers off of you as a new surge of rage overwhelmed you. 
“You are so fucking stupid!” you screamed out loud, letting the anger seep through your body, expel through your lungs. You stormed over to your mirror and punched the glass once, twice, until it cracked and sliced your knuckles, blood trickling immediately over your hand.
Bucky was going to leave you. 
Your knees buckled and you collapsed onto the floor, head hanging as tears dripped down onto the carpet. 
“So stupid,” you continued in a whisper. “So useless, so stupid, so -”
“What the fuck are you doing?” came a loud voice, and your head snapped up with such speed that your head spun.
Bucky was standing in the open doorway, expression aghast as he took in the sight of you. Red, swollen eyes, bleeding hand, sitting in front of the broken mirror.
“Bucky,” you said weakly, voice trembling. He had come back to break up with you.
You always knew he would do it eventually. Your relationship was too good to be true.
“Oh my god,” Bucky hissed as he darted forward, moving down on his knees to join you and gently lifting your wounded hand. “What have you done?”
You started to cry again, feeling so pathetic. Bucky shook his head, eyes frantic.
“No, no, no, doll, please don’t cry,” he said, his voice softening.
“I’m sorry,” you garbled, voice thick with guilt. “I know I fucked up, I know. I’m so sorry Bucky. Please don’t leave me.”
The desperation in your voice broke Bucky’s heart. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could without hurting you, pressing his lips against the top of your head.
“Listen to me. I’m not going to leave you,” he said firmly. He pulled back and studied your face carefully, trying to keep his voice steady for your sake. “I need to patch you up, okay?”
You sniffled, nodding once before he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared with a first aid kit, kneeling down once more and inspecting your hand.
“Why did you do that, doll?” he murmured, a pained look in his eyes as he began to clean you up. It wasn’t a serious injury, just a scratch compared to some of the other battle wounds you had received in the past, but the idea that you had done that to yourself made Bucky so sad.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I’m just - I don’t know. I’m so angry at myself. Please will you forgive me? For everything?”
Bucky’s eyes welled up as he paused with his tending to your hand, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. You were the most important person in the world to him and he had been pushing you away, had completely forgotten your birthday, and you had hurt yourself because of him when all you wanted was to help him.
“I forgive you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Will you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” you insisted as he resumed cleaning your wound. You could see his eyes were wet, and you were nonplussed at why that would be.
“Yes, there is,” Bucky said, wearing a look of shame that you didn’t understand. “I know that your heart is always in the right place. Instead of talking to you about it, I just shut you out. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn’t have done that. I hurt you.”
He worked quickly, bandaging your hand and slowly holding your wrist after. His solemn blue eyes finally met yours.
“I love you so much. I should have stayed to talk, but I just… left. I shouldn't have done that.” He took a deep breath. “I walked away because I couldn’t stand the thought of you knowing everything. Knowing all the people I’ve killed - some of them innocent people. Read about how cold I was, the - the complete lack of mercy I showed. I am a monster.”
“Bucky,” you whispered, lifting your good hand to tenderly touch his face. You were hesitant, as if you were afraid he would withdraw from your touch. Instead, he leaned against your palm, eyes closed. He turned to press a kiss into your hand.
“I thought - “ you began, taking a deep breath at the insecurity and uncertainty that still plagued you. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”
Bucky’s eyes opened to stare at you forlornly, as if hurt that you would even have this thought.
“Never,” he said firmly. “You have no idea how much I have missed you.”
You launched yourself into his arms then, willing Bucky’s strong arms to encircle you. He did just that, holding you close as you sobbed quietly into his shoulder. 
“Let me make it up to you, okay?” Bucky murmured. “Belated birthday celebration.”
“It’s enough that you’re here,” you whispered.
You still had a lot to talk about, but you felt so much better now that Bucky was standing by your side again. Maybe everything was going to be alright.
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thehighladywrites · 9 months
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— “ an unexpected twist ”
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: professor eris vanserra x reader, part 3
⋆˙⟡ summary: you spend every weekend at eris’s mansion, what happens this time? Who is Eris Vanserra and how come he is so rich on a professors salary? GASP A PLOT TWIST
⋆˙⟡ warnings: mentions of smut, tw talks of beron vanserra🤢, abusive childhood, eris dropping huge stacks of money on you, eris channeling his inner sugar daddy, you call him daddy for the first time ever, mentions of an unalive body.
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m not going to lie the plot twist is either a banger or the messiest thing i’ve ever written (pls be a banger)
part 1, part 2
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In the gentle morning light, you lay there in his bed, your lover's bed, serenely unaware of him, enchanted by the sight of you.
Eris had been awake for hours, yet the idea of leaving the cocoon of your warmth never crossed his mind. He marveled at the sheer luck of having someone as incredible as you in his life.
Last night, he came to the realization that he had started to feel mushy and in love with you. The thought still rattled him, and he couldn't shake the slight wariness that you held the power to influence his feelings.
Feelings, thoughts, and open discussions were never entertained in the Vanserra household. Eris and his brothers had been raised by their abusive father, who subjected them to verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Their father manipulated them into accepting and believing whatever suited his agenda.
Through the passing years, Eris had finely tuned his act as the heartbreakingly cold and scornful eldest son. The mask of cruelty clung to him so persistently that he found himself questioning if it was a facade or a painful reflection of his true self.
When his old man kicked the bucket, Eris felt like a ton of bricks was off his back – turns out, it was just an act. Now, with the nosy observer out of the picture, he went all out decorating his room, something he couldn't do growing up. At firat he felt stupid for being happy about being able to change his room because it was something so normalized but he realized how much it healed his inner child. No more walking on eggshells; he could finally kick back. Where did he celebrate his first taste of freedom? The same bar where he first bumped into you.
Grinning at the notion, Eris not only shed a heavy burden but also welcomed newfound brightness into his life. He was determined not to mess things up in any way.
Fully aware that his actions were objectively wrong, Eris couldn't muster the will to change course. He had succumbed to love, a fertile ground for obsession. While he concealed that side for now, he knew it would eventually surface.
The gentle stir in his arms brought Eris back to the present. A warm feeling enveloped his heart as he looked down at you, tenderly running his fingers through your hair, savoring the sweet moment.
Bending down, Eris pressed a gentle kiss on your head, catching the sweet aroma of the strawberry-scented shampoo you insisted he use. Amused by the fact that his hair had never been smoother, he looked at you with a smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Want to do something fun today?” he suggested.
Excited, you sat up straight, a huge grin on your face, eager for some fun. When you asked him what he had in mind, Eris leaned in, maintaining eye contact, and handed you a black card with a hint of mystery.
“Go crazy,” he smirked, settling in with his glasses, preparing to read the book laying on the nightstand.
You stared at the black card and then at him. The question lingered – how did a professor end up with a black card? Weren't those reserved for big spenders and invite-only privileges?
“There's no need to be shy, love. Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he reassured you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. Your cheeks warmed at how well he seemed to know you.
“How are you so rich? I mean, no offense, but I thought professors and teachers weren’t really that... well-off,” you inquired, genuine curiosity in your voice.
“I'm not only a professor, beautiful. I worked at my father’s company before he passed, and now I’m the owner and the CEO. Teaching is just a side job,” he explained, shedding light on his financial standing.
“Oh, I didn’t expect that. So what do you do?” you asked.
“Investment banking,” he replied quickly, not seemingly open to having a conversation about it.
You didn’t really know what that meant but you also really didn’t care. He had money and you were gonna spend it.
“Huh, okay. Does that mean I can buy whatever I want?” you tilted your head at him, a teasing expression on your face with slightly raised eyebrows.
“You can buy whatever you want. Start off by adding the card to your Apple Pay wallet. I want to pay for whatever it is you need. Don’t worry about anything anymore, my love.”
He kissed your forehead, and the gesture made your vision slightly blurry. Eris took such good care of you, and the desire to make him proud lingered in your heart. Wanting to lightheartedly joke with him you tell him how much he reminds you of a dominating sugar daddy.
“Yeah? A dom sugar daddy, huh? How about you come here and give me something sweet, then?”
His taunting voice almost turned your brain to mush. This dynamic was entirely new and felt amazing. Eris embodied a provider, protector, and lover, all in one. No more worrying about the bare minimum or small things – he treated you like a queen. Unlike people your age, he didn't play games or ask for something in return for his gestures; it was a standard for him, a refreshing change.
You were well aware that Eris's fucking would leave you in need of a nap, so you decided to playfully tease him now, saving the rest for later.
“I promise to give you something real sweet after I’m done shopping, daddy.”
Damn. You knew you should’ve saved it for later. The man grabbed your giggling form and quickly turned it into moans, whimpers and sobs.
Obviously and sadly you couldn’t go outside together and shop so you had to order things online, but it was fine because it was so much more convenient this way. With a few clicks, your numerous packages arrived. Was it rude to order so much on someone else’s card? Hmm… maybe for regular people, but not for you. The man had a black card aka no fucking limit. You could buy literally anything and it would go through. So you did what any sane person with an unlimited budget did.
You shopped your ass off.
Clothes, makeup, skincare, books – you turned his doorstep into a glam runway. Nails, lashes, hair appointments – basically, you scheduled a spa day for yourself via delivery. Waxes, new phone case, upgraded computer – you were basically giving your whole life a makeover. Better shoes, nicer bag – You didn't just shop; you leveled up your entire wardrobe.
When you saw the damage of your shopping spree in his living room your cheeks heated as you looked at him with an apologetic smile.
But Eris wasn’t mad, not in the slightest. There was truly no better feeling than being able to spoil you. He loved your facial expressions when you saw something that caught your eye, loved the way your eyes sparkled when you saw a cute piece of jewelry that you just had to have. Your unapologetic way of spending his money was such a turn on for him. You sure showed him how much you appreciate him…
The weekend with Eris was almost over, and the thought of going back to school didn't sit well with you. Being with him felt comfortable and safe, away from potentially judgmental eyes and consequences. Now, you had to act like he's just another professor, dealing with thirsty whispers from fellow students that made your fists tighten. And don't get started on Professor Jensen – despite your warnings, she still managed to hover around Eris. Guess you’d just prove your words weren’t just words and that being around Eris would give her consequences. The return to the school routine felt like a looming storm, and you weren't looking forward to it.
You voiced your concerns to him and he gave you comfort and promised that you’d be spending more time with each other next weekend and all weekends forward.
After your final night routine, you fall asleep together, finding comfort and warmth in each other's embrace. The room quieted down, and your drift off into a peaceful slumber.
However, the peace was short-lived. Hearing a muffled thud, you attempted to snuggle closer to Eris, only to find his heated presence absent. Sitting up, you assumed he might be in the bathroom. As minutes passed without his return, worry crept in, and the realization hit you – you had grown accustomed to his warmth, and now, sleep seemed impossible without him by your side.
You got a blanket and wrapped it around you, got into the fuzzy slipper he got you and went to look for him.
Shirtless, Eris stood there, speaking harshly into his phone. Another male voice emanated from the speaker, filled with concern and fear.
“I won't repeat myself. The deal happens tomorrow night, or you will face consequences. Inquire with your father. Oh, wait, that’s right, you can't.”
Eris's voice turned taunting and cruel, unlike the playful teasing you were familiar with. This was a cold demeanor you hadn't seen before, a stark departure from the Eris you had grown accustomed to.
“Eris?”
His entire body froze, not expecting to see you awake. He prayed to every god and whatever people prayed to these days that the man on the phone didn't hear your voice. Because there was no telling what he’d do if he found out Eris had a weak spot. He reminded the man of what he said and hung up before turning around and going back into the warm Eris you knew.
“What are you doing up, princess? It's 2 in the morning,” he smiled so warmly and softly at you, it nearly made you forget your words.
“I couldn’t sleep without you. What’s going on? You sounded angry, is everything okay?”
He looked at you with tenderness, grabbing your cheeks before kissing you softly.
“It was just one of my employees at the company who had been slacking off a bit. Don’t worry about me, my love. Let’s get you back to bed.”
You nodded at him, lifting your arms in a sleepy gesture for him to lift you up. With a chuckle and no difficulty, he complied.
Eris cradled your head in the crook of his neck, strategically shielding your view. Unbeknownst to you, his men worked silently in the background, discreetly cleaning up the dead body. He fervently prayed that your drowsiness kept you oblivious to the grim details.
Crossing his fingers, Eris also hoped the presence of his gun on the nearby table escaped your notice in the dimly lit room.
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🏷️ taglist: @teenageeggscissorslawyer @daycourtofficial @nocasdatsgay @vellichor01 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @rowaelinsdaughter @meshellexplosionmurder @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @candyjaypoppins @natashachelsea @whatthefuckshappeningrn @acourtofbatboydreams
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plutosfallenangel · 2 years
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Random Astrology Observations | natal + transit ⚔️🥀🪐
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(*from personal experience+knowledge, please don't copy+paste as these are my own words*)
-As an 8H stellium I'm always around to hear other people's grievances and bad news.. even if I don't know them that well, I just happen to be there at the right place and time. I also noticed this with any pluto dominant. They can really help transmute some of the sudden pain, it's like they are there to filter out some of it. There is a sense of stability people can come to them for that doesn't necessarily exist within themselves, but they can provide it. Like a safety raft in a stormy sea, they'll always have a line to throw someone because they know what it's like. They know what it's like to need a safe space. Hopefully, the same people accepting the line they throw are the same people who would offer one back
-Mars in Aquarius is masterminded chaos
-Natal Vesta conjunct NN makes it easy for one to make strong commitments to what they need to learn/expand on in this lifetime
-If you don't have the greatest relationship with your mother or a mother figure, a transit Chiron conjunct natal moon can allow you to heal wounds with them, but only after you crack open the wound.. fully exposing its weak spot, accepting it for every bruise and batter.. embracing it.. and then allowing the healing to begin
-I've also noticed transit Chiron conjunct natal moon brings forth very extreme wounds that have been deeply rooted in our subconscious body.
-Having natal Ceres in the 2nd house indicates gift-giving as a love language.
-Ive been noticing a trend of 6H transits for finding long-term partners.. esp Juno transit 6H.. not taking away from the 7H transit, but adding to the story, the 6H is where we find our routine.. which I think is kind of cute to make it official with someone during a 6H transit, like, "I want to spend every day with you" or "I want to make sure you're in my day to day routine"... cute 🫶
-Whichever sign your solar return ASC is in should be the area of the body you pay attention to the most that year, as there could be potential health problems. (Ex: cancer=chest/breast, capricorn= teeth/bones, pisces= feet)
-Moon aspecting mars typically makes one very protective of siblings, similar to an Aries moon but depending on the sign these planets fall in they could act on this differently (ex: capricorn= making sure their siblings don't go without anything, helping out when they can financially, and protecting their image)
-At the end of the day, some virgos really do have the messiest spaces. However, I would like to clarify that not all Virgos are like this... I've noticed it's mainly virgo suns/mars but not mercury/venus... I know more virgo placements than any other sign so I can attest that you either get an extremely clean, chore list completed Virgo... or a coupon loving, clothes stacked up on the chair virgo... no in-between (no hate they just have other priorities than the stereotypical virgo, these people are always driven to their priorities)
-I'm close friends with several Pisces Mercury's and they all have such a specific style of music they listen to. I noticed most of them listen to dream/pop sounding music, and that's not even a joke about Pisces and dreams.. the music sounds ethereal and if it's not pop, then there's lots happening in the music. Something like house music, I find that Pisces Mercury's are the most likely to listen to it. If you're a Pisces mercury, let me know what you listen to! (Personally I love their music taste, you can get lost in the songs) Pisces venus is also like this, listening to deep-sounding music, something like a beautiful melody, but personally I don't know many pieces venuses!
-My favorite part of Scorpio/8H placements is seeing how mad people can get at them or about them. It comes when they finally reach their glow-up at the end of a rebirth.. but, what most don't realize is this glow-up has been earned with blood, sweat, tears and who knows what else (old friends + connections can feel resentful if you outgrow them with your many changes, those that matter the most will adapt to such transformation)
-Having a natal NN in the 4H means you will most likely take on the traditions within your family. I've done readings for elderly clients that stated they were the ones to take over hosting, celebrations, family meals, family recipes and so on. Either they were the eldest, the one who stayed close to home, or the one who genuinely adapts to taking on such a role in the family (after their jobs kick them butt a few times that is)
-I've also seen elderly clients absolutely OWN their Saturn placement. The stories they have to go along with it are even crazier. It really gives us a perception of how accumulated time affects us, and after many tough battles what it leaves us standing with in victory. I had one client whose Saturn was in leo.. she had trouble entertaining the spotlight at first, someone who was extremely introverted, and felt shame around expressing herself, but over time she learned that life isn't all it's cracked up to be without a little fun sometimes. metaphorically speaking I feel that she had learned after many years of missing out that sitting in the corner made her stand out more than dancing in the middle of the floor
-Retrograde planets in our natal chart show us key information about past lives as these planetary energies carry over unfinished business and expression. (Ex: mercury rx in the natal chart can indicate having to solve the same problems from your past that you weren't able to skillfully solve... however, this is only one way that merc rx can manifest. Communication issues or past life karma with siblings can also be indicated) look to which plant is rx in your chart if any, and look at it's expression. Which sign it is in, which house and which planets aspect it, this can provide many clues on what needs to be repeated. Most often you will find this planet expresses itself internally. Those with prominent rx in their natal chart do a LOT of self-reflection.
-NN transit 1st house makes one look deeper into their roots. Finding out more details about who they are from those before them. I'm having this transit right now and can attest, at the beginning, I had a strange yet strong urge to scour the internet family trees for hours on end. Now I can date my family origins back to the 1600s! And I'm almost wrapping up the NN conjunct ASC!
-Transit Pluto conjunct natal mars can increase the risk of injury if not careful. Avoid things that put you at risk while this transit takes place
-Transit Pluto conjunct natal venus implies a transformative love, but it comes with a cost. $karma$. This is a transit few get to experience in their lifetime, so when it happens for an individual they will be magnetic, allowing relationships to come in with intensity and shape them. Imo they can attract many potential options of partners but will always end up choosing the most karmic or tougher relationship subconsciously while this transit is happening. Towards the end they will experience either a deep release or strong unbreakable bond with someone / a creative project.
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robinofgothamcity · 1 year
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♡ character: jonathan crane x reader
♡ pronouns used: she / her
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / can we talk about the chokehold cillian murphy has on us bc of oppenheimer? legit busting out this fanfic of scarecrow bc cillian played him. might be ooc but who cares? cillian murphy scarecrow will always be superior
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"i think gotham university is actually the worst but it's cheap and gives me the degree without having too many student loans," you said as you stirred your iced coffee. being a senior in college, all the consumed your life was finishing off your last year strong and trying to pay off your debts as soon as you could, "so does that mean you won't be coming to the party?"
you gave your friend an eyeroll, "my love, what kind of 24 year old rolls up to a frat party? no less on a Tuesday night? some of the boys there will probably try to get laid just so they can say they had a night with a cougar," you and your friend instantly started laughing, "but i am willing to go to that bar this weekend!"
just as you started getting up get to refill your coffee, you noticed a man standing in front of you. you knew he was a professor here but you didn't know for which department. you gave him a small smile as a hello and deciding just to pour your coffee without saying much.
you were pouring your ice into your cup and minding your business when you noticed that Dr.Crane dropped his own coffee on the bar. you quickly took out a stack of napkins, instantly helping him clean up. the coffee was searing hot which made you realize that you were burning your hand in the process.
"fuck, that hurts!" you whispered. Dr.Crane immediately pulled your hand back, "here, let me see," he said as he analyzed your now red hand. it was burning and your hand started to bubble up from the heat, "we're going to have ointment on that as soon as possible. you're going to need to come with me."
you were a bit thrown off by how blunt he was being however you knew Dr.Crane was known for being a bit stand offish. he wasn't the kind of professor that everyone got along with or even went to his office to talk too.
he dragged you off to his office, immediately pulling out his emergency aid kit and started the healing process. you sat back, texting your friend to pack your things off and leaving it in front of his office. you didn't say a word as he was murmuring to himself, "this might sting so brace yourself," he whispered.
you instantly shot up in pain, trying not to yell but the pain of the ointment made you grab his arm and squeeze it. he chuckled as you were trying to show that you weren't in pain however it was very evident that your pain tolerance was not that high.
"you did well for someone that just had rubbing alcohol rubbed into an open wound," you gave him a weary smile before he started placing a bandage wrap on your hand, "so, what's your major?" he asked jumping into a completely different conversation.
"early education! I want to be a preschool teacher!" he hummed in interest, "love children?" you shook your head in agreement, "i love teaching them however to have some of my own is not really my gist," he nodded, "that should do it. keep the bandage on until Saturday and after that, you should place some more healing ointment on it but let the wound breathe. you don't need it to get infected."
"thank you so much Dr.Crane," he brushed you off, "it's not your fault. I was the one who dropped coffee on the bar." he helped you up from the chair and opened the door, "what is your name?"
you gave him your name as you shook his hand with your bandaged one, "you're welcomed into my office at any time." that was all he said before walking away into the next hallway. you didn't know what he meant by that but you didn't think too much into it. you grabbed your things and rubbed your bandages as you started to walk away from his office.
+
Saturday night came around as you were getting dressed for the night. you were meeting your friends at a bar not too far from your apartment. you were wearing a tennis skirt and a tank top to battle the heat that was still lingering in Gotham. you knew that you were bound to regret it since the bar all of you wanted to go to was a bit more on the expensive side and probably had the air conditioning cranked all the way up.
you pulled on your shoes and went to meet your friends in front of the bar. as you were waiting for them to arrive, you noticed a couple of men entering. you could have sworn one of them looked like Dr.Drane but you figured that couldn't be Dr.Crane. he didn't seem like the bar attending type.
"hey, isn't that Dr.Crane from the psychology department?" one of you friends said later into the night. you turned around and true to her word, Dr.Crane and two other men were sitting down at the bar, sipping on what looked like whiskey. you could have sworn that he was staring at you but you shook that feeling away, "I think it is. I could've sworn I saw him earlier but didn't think that was actually him."
you wanted to get another drink but suddenly, you felt a bit nervous approaching the bar. you could sense Dr.Cranes very blue eyes now starting to look at you but the urge to get another beer was calling your name.
one of your friends noticed how you were drinking a bit more but as soon as she saw the professor staring at you, it all connected.
"oh, you're scoring high, aren't you?" she asked laughing. you shook your head no, "that's a professor at the university I attend. I might a bit desperate but not that desperate."
"what are the chances that Crane has the hots for you,-" "very likely as he is coming over here with two glasses of wine in his hand."
your eyes widened, not knowing what to do. you admittedly tried to fix your hair as he approached your table, "I figured it'd be polite to bring you a glass of wine before I whisked you away from your friends," he said handing it over to you, "I just wanted to ask how your hand healed."
your friends instantly moved away from the table, "if I remember telling you correctly, you could have removed the bandage today," he stated. you chuckled awkwardly, "uh, I got scared and figured I'd have a friend help me in case I needed it rebandaged. he's a pre-med student so I knew I could trust him."
"scared? of a little burn? come on, let me help you."
you didn't say a thing and let him take the lead. he grabbed your hand and unwrapped it, sensing that your hand was shaking a bit. he examined the now healed wound. a burn mark that he was sure was going to scar but other than that, nothing to be concerned of.
"ah, as I suspected. not much besides scarring. once you get home, apply more healing ointment," you nodded in agreement, "thank you Dr.Crane," he chuckled lowly, "i'm not at work, please call me Jonathan."
"thank you a lot Jonathan-," "come sit with my friends and I."
you wanted to protest but you didn't see your friends in the same spot anymore. they had all wandered off with men they saw to hang out with for the night. you swore to yourself that you'd end up punching them for leaving you alone with Jonathan for the night.
"oh, of course. I hope I'm not intruding," you whispered. Jonathan shook his head, "not at all." you walked up to his friends who seemed to be whispering to each other until you walked up.
"this is my lovely companion ( your name). ( your name ), these are my partners who work alongside me at Arkham. Jervis Tetch and Edward Nashton."
you gave them a smile and shook their hands, "it's a pleasure," you said. Jervis placed a kiss on the back of your hand, "no, pleasure is all mine," he said.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow as his friend indicating to back off. you sat next to Jonathan as the three talked about various different things. you didn't care to speak up as the wine you were drinking was enough enjoyment.
"so, you attend Gotham University? what is your degree in?" Edward suddenly asked you. you perked up a bit, "oh! early childhood education. intending to be a preschool teacher!"
"interesting, developing the minds of young children, how sweet," he replied. you nodded as you didn't catch the wink that Edward sent Jonathan's way, "yeah! it's fun being around all of them and being able to teach them the fundamentals of life!"
you got up, excusing yourself to get another glass of wine as the three men all watched you leave.
"I understand why she became of interest. pretty little thing, isn't she?" Jervis asked. Jonathan agreed, "with a little help from Jervis, I'm sure she'll be a great help with all of our plans."
Jonathan needed a partner. not so much of romance, although he didn't mind if that's how it worked out with you, but with someone who could help him get Gotham under his ruling. there were certain characteristics that intrigued him about you and after doing extensive research on you, he knew you'd be the perfect one.
you were dancing to the music that was playing in the bar as you awaited your wine. he went up to you as the lights dimmed down and the music got louder.
"no one is here to watch us dance with the lights now being lowered. mind?" now with the buzz of the alcohol in your system, you agreed and followed him to the floor. you were dancing against him as he remained as stiff as a board.
you didn't seem to care as he knew that him acting out a bit ridiculously was only temporary. through his research, he knew you were a party girl in your early 20s. your social medias didn't hide it and the photos you were tagged in seemed like you had a bit of a promiscuous side to you as well.
"you're a gorgeous girl, how come your out here without a partner," you shrugged in response, "romance never seemed to find me." he chuckled as bent down to your ear, "even though it is against policy that professors have any kind relationship with a pupil, I did see that you are in your last year."
you nodded in agreement as he noticed that your eyes had gotten lowered due to the alcohol, "so does that mean you want to see me after this?" he hummed in agreement, "way more than you realize." you giggled cutely as you turned around and faced him.
his glasses were fogged due to how warm the bar was.
"well I can't say that I'm opposed to that idea," you whispered. he smirked as he realized Jervis' power must've been working, "I love that you're on board with the idea." his hands found your thighs as he rubbed them.
you giggled once again as you smashed your lips against his. you didn't care if this landed back in your car or your place but the higher his hands went, the warmer your face got. your tongue was fighting against his as your breath quickened up.
"how about we take this back to my house?" you nodded excitedly as Jervis and Edward noticed that Jonathan's plan went onto succeed, "I guess we're no longer needed?" Jervis asked Edward. he nodded as he chuckled, "ever the ladies man, isn't he?" Edward responded.
the two friends shook their heads in disbelief as they noticed you hanging off of Jonathan's side, placing kisses on his next as his hand remained rubbing against your thigh.
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p5x-theories · 3 days
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Not sure if anyone following this blog is having any trouble with the Shadow Katayama fight, but I just beat her (after several attempts) and figured out what felt like a pretty good strategy, so I wanted to share just in case it helps anyone else?
First and foremost, I realized that damage from status ailments doesn't add to her Rage meter (the pink one above her health bar, which goes up whenever you attack her based on the damage you deal), thanks to Key's burns since he's part of my go-to team. This really became the key (pun intended) to my strategy: deal as much damage as possible to her with ailments, so her attacks don't get too much stronger. Consistently attacking is important too, though, since the turn limit is always a concern.
Morgana's my go-to healer usually, since he's the only way to revive teammates, but while he lasted pretty long when I tried it with him the first time, ultimately the extra attacks Katayama was getting from hitting his electricity weakness were slowing things down. Probably any healer who isn't weak to electricity will work for this fight, I think? I went with Summer Tomoko because I like her ability to heal and hit the enemy at the same time.
That left two teammate slots to try to maximize ailment damage. There aren't actually a lot of teammates that really do that right now? Key was the obvious one, at least to me, because I always take advantage of his burn and Holy Fire ailments hehe, but I realized Messa is probably the other best teammate here, because his Bleeding ailment also damages a target on their turn, and he resists Physical, which is the other attack type that Katayama has.
So, with all that in mind, my team was Wonder with that 5-star blue knife that boosts his healing ability (Personas: Sarasvati, Oberon, and Anubis), Summer Tomoko with the regular Moko's 3-star knives, Key with his 4-star weapon, and Messa with his 3-star weapon. They're all level 80 themselves, but I think only Wonder's weapon was level 80; Summer Tomoko and Key's weapons were level 70, and Messa's was 51 because I'm in the middle of catching him up, heh. I can double check what cards I have on them, if anyone wants to literally copy my setup, but I wanted to give a general idea of the power level my team was at.
My strategy then was just keeping everyone healthy, and making sure Katayama was taking as much damage as possible on each of her turns. With Key, his first fire skill has a high chance of burn, and then his second progresses the burn to Holy Fire (without consuming the original burn), and his third deals extra damage when the enemy has Holy Fire, so it was roughly a cycle of first skill -> second skill -> third skill, trying to keep her burned and Holy Fire-d at all times, above all else.
Messa was a bit funny, because I was technically only using half his capabilities: since his Executioner form consumes the Bleeding status effect, I had much better results from only using his Hunter form, and never switching. Essentially, I'd use his first skill until 9-10 Bleeding were stacked on Katayama (I believe 10 is the max?), then use his second skill to constantly refresh them so the Bleeding never wore off.
Wonder swapped mostly between Sarasvati and Anubis as needed- Sarasvati to heal the team, and Anubis to use his main curse skill, which afflicts the curse status ailment, adding to the damage Katayama was taking every turn. I rarely used Oberon, but he does have Matarukaja, so I used that occasionally if healing wasn't needed but it didn't make sense to attack either.
Summer Tomoko I had mostly using her third skill, which allows other teammates' attacks to inflict Sparks, so she could usually get 1-2 triggers of her followup attack/heal per turn. If someone's health in particular was really bad, I occasionally had her heal them instead, and if I wouldn't be able to have Key, Messa, and Wonder all attack that round, I had her use her first skill instead, since it triggers a slightly more powerful followup attack/heal immediately.
This part's probably obvious, but in the two free rounds where Katayama is withdrawn and won't attack, I always had Summer Tomoko heal someone (whether anyone needed the healing or not, it allows them to inflict more Sparks for a round), Wonder use Oberon to buff everyone's attack, and Key and Messa guard.
As far as Wind's skills go, I'm admittedly not sure how useful her first one actually is on a boss who can't be knocked down like Katayama, so I mostly stuck to her third skill whenever her cooldown finished. I only used the first skill if I couldn't use the third.
All that said, I'm not sure how much this actually helps- I know Messa and Summer Tomoko are both limited 5-stars, so it's unlikely everyone has them- but I hope at least the core strategy makes a difference?
It might be possible to brute-force her fight, too, as long as you have a really good healer; I got all the way to the last pair of eyes (the last part of the final stage of the fight) with Morgana, Key, and Queen, and even with Summer Tomoko, Key, and Queen. If you can do enough damage to speed through the early stages of the fight, and heal enough to make up for Katayama's stronger attacks, you can probably make it work, but you might need to power up your team as much as possible beforehand (levels, weapons, cards, Persona skills) and some luck.
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talesofesther · 2 years
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play our record, just one more time | ch 2
Eddie Munson x Reader
Series Summary: Your dreams know the sound of his voice, even if you haven’t heard it closely in years. His fingertips still tingle when they remember the feeling of your skin, like a poorly healed scar. Or, the story of how you and Eddie fell apart, and found each other again.
A/N: Slowly, the story is starting to take off, hope you like this part, let me know. <3
Masterlist | Read Part 1 here
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Monday mornings had to be on the bottom of most people's list of favorite times of the week, you weren't any different, but today had to take the cake for the worst Monday morning.
First of all, you slept in; either your alarm didn't work or you turned it off and didn't realize it. It left you with just about half an hour to shower, eat breakfast, get ready, and go to work. You managed to take a poor excuse of a shower and put on the first clothes you saw in your wardrobe. All so you could eat your cereal — even if it was not what you wanted — while fixing up your hair.
You absolutely hated to start the week off like this, sometimes it felt like a bad omen. You were holding out hope for stopping by your favorite coffee shop to quickly pick up something to drink, but even that didn't happen, they were closed for renovations.
So with a scowl the size of the world on your face, you pushed open the door to Family Video, a small backpack hanging off one of your shoulders. There was sunshine right in your eyes, it reflected against the glass doors and made you squint. The bell above the door dinged when you walked in, but your eyes only adjusted to the different lighting once you were a few steps further between the rows of movies.
You could hear Steve talking to someone, his voice way too excited for this time in the morning. You looked up, one hand tucking rogue strands of hair behind your ear. Oh yeah — you froze, sneakers scratching the floor when you suddenly halted on your steps — today's the day. Because of your morning rush, you had momentarily forgotten.
Eddie was leaning on the counter, just beside the little display of snacks. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he was wearing the green vest of the store over his leather jacket, and he managed to look good doing it. His lips parted when his gaze landed on you, he went all tense and stiff. Steve didn't see it, too focused on happily introducing you two. But you knew Eddie, and you knew that look in his eyes and that twitch on his hands; he wanted to run.
Honestly, you weren't too far off. Seeing Eddie again after so long was similar to the feeling of waking up from a good dream and not quite remembering the ending, and as the seconds tick by, you forget more of it — it's that feeling of loss and frustration and longing — but what happened sits there in your stomach, you know it's there. That's how it felt to, after all these years, have Eddie finally looking you in the eye again.
Steve, bless him, just kept talking, big smile on his pretty face; "and she'll be the one to teach you the ropes, she's the best of us here so I promise you're in good hands. I'm sure you guys will get along perfectly." He finished, gaze moving between you and Eddie.
Robin was sitting behind them, her curious blue eyes watching you as the computer in front of her was forgotten.
Before the silence could stretch too much and prompt Steve to ask questions, you took in a steadying breath, stepping forward so you were closer. "Hey Eddie, it's… been a while." You grimaced at your own tone, wanting to dig a hole to disappear in.
Eddie's Adam’s apple went up and down as he swallowed. "Hi," he responded, the motion of his lips stretching the reddish marks on his cheek and neck. Not yet fully healed scars. You wondered where they came from, if they were the same ones you saw that day, the thought of Eddie being hurt still made you nauseous.
"Wait," Steve chuckled, pushing aside a few stacked tapes so he can lean on the counter, "you two know each other?"
"Yes."
"No."
You and Eddie said at the same time.
You let out an indignant huff and met his gaze with a raised brow; so that's how it's gonna be, huh?
Eddie had a frown on his lips. His sweet brown eyes, though colder than you remembered, twitched on the sides as if he regretted it.
"We uh- we used to share a few classes," you told Steve, who was looking more puzzled by the minute, "that's all." You finished, then excused yourself to the back room with something between a grimace and a smile so you could let go of your backpack and put on your work vest — but in truth, you just desperately needed to breathe.
You roughly pushed open the door making the old hinges creak. Your bag was thrown somewhere on the left corner before you leaned back on the shelves, knocking over a few newly released tapes that still needed to be put on display. The back of your head bumped the shelf when you looked up, sighing audibly, "fuck."
"I'm definitely sensing some tension here."
Robin's voice made you jump, you didn't even hear her following you or coming in. She sat down on a wooden box, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you.
You groaned; "no tension to be sensed, Robs."
"Oh yeah, totally," she hummed, leaning her elbows on her knees, "what's the story?"
"There is no story, Robin, like I said, we just shared some classes," you shrugged, avoiding her eyes because you knew she would see right through the lie.
"Eddie is as pale as a vampire out there and you're hiding in the back cursing the wind, that doesn't look like 'just a few classes' to me." Robin made air quotes as she spoke and stood up, reaching out to take both of your hands on hers.
You dropped your head on her shoulder once she was close enough, "we used to be friends, it's just… just weird seeing each other again," you chewed on your lip, considering saying more but deciding against it, "that's all." You didn't know anymore if you were trying to convince them or yourself.
Robin didn't press again, even if she had an inkling this was just the tip of the iceberg. "You know I'm here if you need me, yeah?" Was all she said.
"I know."
_
Meanwhile, behind the front counter of Family Video;
"Don't pass out on me, man, what the hell," Steve said, urgency in his tone as he frantically fanned Eddie with a VHS tape.
Eddie swatted him away with both hands, snatching the tape from him, "stop it, stop it, you'll scare away the customers."
"The store is empty and you look like you've just seen a damn ghost, excuse me for being worried," Steve countered, in the same voice he used with Dustin when the boy tried to put himself in danger.
A ghost. Eddie could feel his chest weighing down on him, because in parts it was true; today was the first time in years that he spoke with you, and in all honesty, he didn't know what to feel — or he was feeling too much, and couldn't choose just one emotion to focus on. He wanted it to mean nothing, was trying to convince himself of it. He couldn't, because once you truly, genuinely love someone, it never really goes away; the sentiment might twist and turn, shape itself into something more bitter and sharp, but it's always there, never lessened.
"Care to share with the class?" Steve tried.
Eddie clenched his jaw and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, wishing he could grab the knots in his chest and rip them away. "Not really."
Running a hand through his hair, Steve patted Eddie's shoulder to try and make him look at him. "Listen, if there's one thing I've learned, is that it's worse if you keep all that shit bottled up alright?"
Eddie gave Steve a small smile, one that held more sorrow than it did happiness; "there's nothing left for me to bottle up."
_
When the first customer of the day walked through the front doors, it was like a switch was turned for you and Eddie.
The professional in you kicked in and you showed him a little bit of everything, getting him acquainted with all of the movie sections and the main ones people usually came looking for.
You showed him around the arcade and how to reset most of the games in there, given that he'd probably be giving you a hand with them as well.
Eddie even got to test his skills with a young girl who came in looking for her favorite movie. He could feel Steve's and Robin's stares on his back most of the time, they were anything but subtle.
Eddie didn't see you though, smiling all sweet and proud watching him work and walk around Family Video as if he'd been there just as long as you. For a moment, your reality bubble didn't go as far as the store walls. And it felt nice. But it was a fragile thing, bound to burst sooner or later.
"So, here is where we catalog the movies that each person rents," you explained, opening the customers' page on the computer, "we put on the date that it was rented and the date that it's supposed to come back, so if it doesn't, we can charge the fee."
You were drowning in a sea of golden hues, the store's glass facade allowed the last bright streaks of sunlight to shine through and into the computer screen, making it just a tad harder for you to navigate.
You hardly noticed the time passing by. It sent a shiver down your back, because days with Eddie used to be like this; endless in the utopia of his bedroom or the empty lots of the trailer park until your mom called when you went past your curfew.
Right now, he stood beside you, looking at the screen from over your shoulder. Well, Eddie was supposed to be looking at the screen, but in reality, his gaze was fixed on the lone strand of hair that escaped from behind your ear. It was a little thing, bouncing each time you moved, grazing the apple of your cheek.
His mind wanders to the days you'd sit behind him in class, careful fingers working little braids in his hair. He'd feign some annoyance, but deep down, he'd go to bed those nights thinking about it. Today, the memory made him wonder why exactly you lost each other.
Eddie remembers something you told him a year after his dad left for the second time; you said that memories exist outside of time, and that they don't really have a beginning or end. He doesn't know you're thinking the same thing, trying to find comfort in the saying just as much as he is.
"Once the movie comes back, we check it here and take it off of the person's file and put the new movie in," you turned your head to look at Eddie, sucking in a shallow breath when you noticed him closer than you expected, "if- if they rented a new movie, that is."
You gulped, looking down at your hands. He wasn't touching you, he actually made sure to avoid touching you the entire day, but the warmth of his presence was still there. You missed him, that much was evident from the moment you saw him this morning. "It's easy, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time." You said, if anything to fill the awkward silence.
"Yeah, don't worry," Eddie turned his back to you, finally putting some distance between you, "I won't mess it up for you."
You were taken aback by the sudden venom in his words, blinking as if he'd slapped you, "I didn't say you would."
"Don't have to," Eddie's not sure what prompts him to say it, what scorched and poorly healed part of his wound had reopened. Maybe it's just the old routine of arguing with you, the one that was settled by the end of your friendship and kept him safe. It was the easiest option then, it hurt just a little bit less than accepting how much it had broken him when he lost you.
Everyone leaves, you're the only one he hasn't recovered from yet.
"I know you're thinking it."
"Except I'm not," you crossed your arms, realizing you said it just a tad louder than you should when the eyes of Robin and the old lady beside her in the novels section glanced at you. Cursing under your breath, you stepped up to Eddie, "you're just doing it all over again, putting words in my mouth that I didn't fucking say."
Eddie recoiled as if you'd burned him, sitting up on the counter and lifting the corners of his lips in the way he knew got under your skin; "just saving you the trouble, I can see how much you hate having me here," he tilted his head, a few curls that'd gotten loose from his ponytail going over his eyes, "staining your image and all that… again."
You were hot with anger, because how dare he. You raised a finger to his face and walked into his personal space, "you know what? I do hate having you here, but not-"
"Y/N!" The bell above the main doors dinged as Keith walked in, calling your name at the same time. "We gotta talk." He waved you over.
Eddie quickly hopped down from the counter, nearly bumping into you. He gulped and stumbled backward as much as he could, trapped between you and the wooden edge.
Eddie's looking down at you as if he's seeing you for the first time all over again, literally, the first time. Where he's just a lonely kid and you're offering him a seat beside you. Where it's just you and him. And it hurts, because this you just said she hates him.
Your face does something complicated, like you don't know how to feel about this. You watch Eddie drop his gaze and curse quietly, probably thinking you'll tell Keith he's not employee material.
It gets you angrily biting back a sob as you walk away from him without another word, circling around the counter and disappearing into the back room with Keith.
You tell Keith that Eddie is a quick learner, that he's good with people and already memorized where all the movie sections are; you tell him Eddie will do good here, that you're happy to have him.
The last hour before closing time goes by with you on one end of the store, and Eddie on the other. He's stacking up movies in the horror section, you're putting up a new poster.
"I think we messed up," Steve mumbled, scratching his cheek.
"No, come on," Robin swatted at his arm and leaned closer to his ear, her eyes fixed on Eddie while Steve's are fixed on you, "I mean, Eddie needed the job, and how were we supposed to know they knew each other?"
"Yeah but, I don't know if it'll be much fun to work every day with this dark cloud of bad vibes in here." Steve subtly motioned at you and then Eddie before he crossed his arms.
Robin chuckled beside him, as if she was in on a special secret; "oh I'd give it a week, tops, for them to be making out in the back room."
"Ew Robin, now I don't know what's worse."
"Have you seen the way they look at each other, dingus?"
_
For a Monday — which was supposed to be the slowest day here — you were pretty damn tired as you put on your hoodie and picked up your backpack to go home. You figured most of it had to do with a certain long-haired boy.
Steve had just driven away with Robin, he offered you a ride, like he always does, but it was a nice evening and the walk to your home was considerably short. You were on the sidewalk, with one hand on the doorknob as you waited for Eddie so you could lock up. Your eyes were on the sky, on the fading of the orange as it was replaced by purple and dark blue.
Eddie came out running, almost toppling over you. You didn't meet his eyes as you turned the key on the doors, it was a lazy motion, you even feigned a snag on the lock to give Eddie the opportunity to just leave, but he never took it.
Instead, he waited until you were forced to turn around and face him when there was no more stalling to do.
Honestly, Eddie looked like a kid who was caught stealing from the cookie jar, all big brown eyes shining under the streetlights, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets.
"I don't wanna fight with you," he averted his gaze as he spoke, only looking back up at you after a beat of silence.
You made a sound that landed somewhere between a chuckle and a hum, "could've fooled me," you answered, tone free of any teasing; there was no fight left in you anyway.
Somewhere not so far, a cat knocked over a trash can. The noise was loud, both you and Eddie simultaneously looking toward it. You could almost feel him tensing up beside you, his shoulders squaring as he took half a step closer to you while he surveyed the deserted parking lot. His right hand was on its way to your forearm, an easy grab to pull you behind him. You didn't comment on it, or on how he looked genuinely terrified for half a second. It was gone as fast as it came anyway.
Eddie sighed, shaking his head as if to clear the fog from his mind, his curls — now free from his ponytail — bounced around. "I mean it, okay? We're gonna work together." He pursed his lips in an attempted smile, "and I want it to work."
"For old time's sake," the words tasted funny on Eddie's tongue, like they never should've existed at all. "Just uh-" he extends a hand to you, and it's all kinds of weird and painful, "keep it profesh?"
It feels a lot like a goodbye, you think. A lot like tearing apart a fragile flower you were trying to save. It feels like a loss. You take Eddie's hand anyway, his skin is smooth and warm against yours, you kinda wanna cry and you think he does too.
"Deal." Is all you tell him before he's briskly turning around to get into his van, and you're walking the other way hugging yourself through your hoodie, because the night is suddenly a lot colder.
⋆*☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Curious for the next part? ;)
Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @tssf-imagines @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove
@hallothankmas @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @ollyoxenfrees @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @eddielives1986 @totallynotkaibiased @just-love-reading @murnsondock @tayhar811 @luceneraium @bimbobaggins69 @iunaelumen777 @violetsandroses8 @myrrh-dock @lifeandfanfic
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thatcanadianfangirl · 2 months
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JJ Maybank// Healing Takes Time pt.3
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JJ Maybank X Jade (Booker) Routledge OC
Plot: Jade has a ✨feminine energy✨day with Sarah and Kiara.
Word count: 2.7k+
Content: brother’s best friend, slow burn, underage drinking, foul language.
Disclaimer: the 3rd and final part of healing takes time, it’s not finished but I a year and a half ago and won’t be completing. I really enjoyed writing this but it’s not something I want to continue. I didn’t edited or anything kinda just want this out of my drafts.
{Part One} {Part Two}
———-
Someone laying on the horn in the dirt drive way of the Chateau knocked the relaxation out of my bones. The water lapped at my legs hanging over the dock, my shoulder blades were resting on the rotting wood. I was soaking up the sun cascading over my body and trying to enjoy my workless weekend.
Two car doors slammed shut in the distant and I instantly knew that it wasn't the Twinkie, it had sounds that I associated with home. Soft feminine voices were mumbling and a small smile creeped onto my face.
Sitting up I gathered my worn sneakers, hooking them with one finger each on the same hand. The HMS Pogue danced with the small waves caused by other boats that have passed. Walking up the long L shaped dock water dripped down my calves and imprinted my path onto the wood for thirty minutes.
feet partially dry I managed to shout a mangled greeting as I struggled to slip on my socks. Fumbling with forcing my shoes on, a little too excited to spent the day with them. I hopped off the dock landing wrong. I grained my balance back right before I could knock my teeth out from a brutal wipe out.
"Woah take it easy, Routledge!" Sarah chuckles walking towards me with Kie at her side.
"I don't know what came over me, My body just took over." I say a little sheepish.
It was an overpowering feeling of having female friends, almost like I didn't know what to do with myself. God was it absolutely embarrassing. I always had my brother and he was, most of the time, a good fill in to indulge into girl talk. Although their were some conversations I needed to only share with female friends.
Of course I had acquaintances at Kildare high. They were fun conversations in-between classes to fill in the time, or light gossiping at the boneyard, whenever Kiara pulled me along and she was caught with the boys. they weren't ones I hangout on my own time, it felt like a lot of effort to contain any relationship outside of home and work.
The least I could say was I am starved for female companionship. When Sarah asked us a week ago to go hangout I was ecstatic. The excitement started to stack before I realized and it tipped over causing me to just about snap my ankle in two.
"Honesty. I might be a little euphoric myself." Kiara says, and it stabilized my embarrassment,
"Over here too." Sarah pipes up.
"The aura all three of them bring feels so suffocating at times. I need this day you." She says with mock desperation and lightheartedness dancing in her tone.
"Tell me about it, I have a brother who reeks of that shit," I say with a mouth full of sass, they smile wide holding back fits of laughter.
"I don't mind it." Sarah says with a shrug.
"Absolutely disgusting." I mimic throwing up my bagel and coffee from earlier. "You say that because you haven't lived with the demon for a decade and a half."
"It'll get old fast." Kie says,
"damn right!" I agree enjoying this moment I was sharing with them. Surprised by how easy I fell into conversation with them. Like this was an everyday occurrence, I never wanted this feeling to escape from my fingertips.
"Are you ready?" Sarah questions racking over my attire. I was wearing very worn in short, a blue top and one of John's loose button shirts. It's very beach casual it wasn't too fashion friendly but it wasn't the worst thing I could've worn today.
"Yeah, I'm just going to give John a heads up." I say beginning to approach the house and finding him having a massive cat nap on the porch couch.
Stepping on the porch I slammed the screen door shut, but the bang only managed to halt his loud snored for three seconds. I rolled my eyes knowing this wake up job would take a little work. His entire body stretched along the sofa, his height so tall, the toes of his shoes hung over the arm rest.
One tap against his torn sneaker, "John." My voice holding a vociferous tone in attempt to wake him. But only backfired forcing his snores to become more prominent and stir in his sleep.
what on god's deteriorating earth did this kid do last night to cause him to sleep way into the afternoon? I heard him clamber through the house at three am. very late but at least he made the effort to come home.
"John B!" I hollered right over him.
His body jerked awake and his face held alarm as he sprung to life almost knocking me on my ass in the process. John wiped at his face regaining consciousness. Soon his brown eyes fell into recognition at the sight of me crossing my arms over my chest and eyeing him down with and unamused expression.
"What the Hell is wrong with you, Jade." He said bitterly and aggressively combed his hair back.
"Good Morning to you too sleepy head." I cooed at him as if he were a small child who didn't get what they wanted.
"You're so goddamn annoying." He seethes through his teeth.
"Someone is a little cranky." I mock a pout.
"Why the fuck did you wake me?" He growled grumpily into his palms and I smirk cockily at my suffering brother.
I shrug, "Just wanted to let you know I'm leaving to hang with Kiara and Sarah." I said pointing my thumb over my shoulder. He leans over looking past me and at the two girls resting against the hood of Sarah's SUV. "Hey John B," They snicker in unison.
"Hey." He replied with a rough sleepy voice.
"You're actually hangout with them?" There was a hint of eager happiness wrapped in his tone. I brushed it off and began began battling with the smile that tried to crawl to the surface.
"Me and Kie are alright friends. Sarah just fits in perfectly. And if I'm being honest I need female friends. So I hope you don't mind me stealing yours." I say smugly knowing I'd still hangout with them even if he was fully against it.
"I don't mind one bit." Me says with an ear splitting grin.
"Also I did want to talk to you later." I say not feeling like it was the right time to be bringing it up. Was there ever a right time for it?
"Sure. Anything."
"It's nothing too tremendous." I muster up.
I hope it wasn't because I knew this treasure hunting obsession has gone a little over the edge. I need John to lift the weight off my shoulders a bit. Allow me to breathe and maybe set some money a side for a rainy day. Who Knew how he'd take it, I just have to show him just how desperate I was to have my brother back.
"Okay." he jokes as if I wasn't going to give him an ultimatum.
---
The Surf Shack is an adorable little boutique located in the middle of the island. it wasn't marked as Figure 8 and nor was it part of The Cut. It was centered ground and probably the reason why it's Kie's favourite shop in all of Kildare.
Brand new surf boards lined the back wall, bathing suits towards the left wall and summer clothing to the right. Various string and bulky beaded jewelry Koisks scattered the floor. The theme of the store held a beachy ambiance, it was very soothing and felt familiar.
"What's the colour pallet?" Sarah ask slinging her arm over my shoulder and leaning against me, I become flustered at the close proximity not expecting her to clung on to me like she did.
"Uh.." I stated not really understand the premise of the question.
"Jade it more of a teal or a purple type of person," Kie says after lightly analyzing me and I begin to feel self conscious around them.
Sarah looks at me as if waiting for me to disagree. In all honest I've never had to luxury to pick the colour of my clothing. I purchased whatever fit me and looked at least half decent. So I'm not particularly familiar with my colour pallet.
"I think Kie is right." I pretend like I knew exactly what she meant, but from the look swirling in Sarah's eyes, I knew I failed miserably. I felt absolutely pathetic and began to interrogate my decision to come here with them.
"Lets just take a look around and have a feel for it." Kie says covering up the feeling of awkwardness that started to wedge its self between us.
"Sounds like a good idea." I say relieved, taking myself out of Sarah's grasp and going towards peach-coloured pieces. It didn't take long to find out the price of a single bikini top was far out of my budget. The white tag in my hand from a lime green basic triangle top read $68.
Who in there right mind would pay that much for nipple covers? was this what is was like to not live from pay cheque to pay cheque? because please sign me the fuck up, pronto. God I wonder what it would be like to no look at the price and know I could afford a lousy bikini set.
Looking around I saw Kie and Sarah in different isles sorting through the various styles and colours. I must've been looking like a lost freaking puppy for too long because one of the employees, Henley, walks up to me with a polite smile. She's tall and has perfect blonde hair flowing down her back. Henley definitely was a freaking goddess in her past life, I could tell you that much.
"Is there anything I could help you with?" She says with a mega watt smile, and I gulp nervously hoping she didn't think I was going to tuck this top into my back pocket. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty tempting now that I think about it.
"No, I'm just looking. Thank you for the offer." I say bringing my customer service to life like I knew exactly what I was doing. Caging up the nerves in the process. I could feel the eyes of the Pogues dart to me and I wanted to melted into the floor at the questioning looks.
"Are you sure? Because it looks like you're struggling." She presses and god was it fucking embarrassing. Was it really that hard for her to leave me to my thoughts?
"Hey, Henley, could you help me find a size?" Kie calls,
"Yes of course." She replies instantly. "Will you excuse me?"
"Not a problem." I give her a tight smile. I felt every one of my muscles relax at her retreating back. I could literally kiss the girl for calling the demon off of my spine. Sometimes Kie was an expert at reading my body language and rescued me with a fucking life raft, a good percentage of the time.
I shoved the green top onto the rack again and navigated my way to the clearance section. It crumbled the little ego I had left but it was my own doing for not seeking it out in the first place. I just wanted to feel normal for once and experience something other than The Cut.
The section was more budget friendly but it was less size inclusive. being in this place was like bringing a skate board to the beach. Not the smartest idea but I could make the best of it.
I could feel Sarah come behind me and lay her chin onto my shoulder browsing my selection with me. I oddly enjoyed how touch affection she is, almost like a nice surprise after a tough day.
"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I could get you one you'll actually like. You've been scouring the rack for five minutes, I can see nothing is catching your eye. It's not a big deal. Think of it as a an early birthday gift."
I can't muster up the words I want to say, because how exactly do I respond to that? Sarah is one of the kindest people I know and I cant possible take advantage of her for a new swimsuit I don't need.
"I appreciate it. Sarah I really do, But I cant ask that." I say in a hushed tone knowing Henley is always keeping an eye on me at all times as she works around the store.
"You're not asking. I'm offering. There's a difference between the two. I've seen how hard you've worked to keep the Chateau alive. You deserve to enjoy something new once in awhile. You're not being selfish, Okay?"
Her tone is soft as she speaks into my ear and I couldn't help the hot tears from sliding down my cheeks. Sarah saw me and still wanted to be here, I felt every emotion I could and they hit me like a semi truck.
Kie had a sixth sense and soon was glued to my hip. Sarah filled her in, as I bite down on my bottom lip forcing the blubbering cries that wanted to escape, at bay.
'Oh Honey." Kie coos fondly and wipes a few tears away but they're soon replaced by fresh ones. "Here." Sarah hands me the keys to her SUV. "Why don't you sit in the car and we'll pick something out of you?" Her voice is sugar and I didn't want to leave her side. But if I didn't leave soon I know it wouldn't take much to have everything in me spilled out.
With a weak nod I mange to take the keys into my grasp almost dropping them at the unexpected weight. I'm a mess and everyone in this place was seeing it first hand. There was no way I would live this down. Hell would freeze over before I ever thought of returning to this shop. That pushy employee, Henley, would recognize me as the one girl from The Cut who broke down in the middle of this god forsaken place.
It felt like the walk of shame as I approached the exit and onto the side walk. With one click on the car fob Sarah's vehicle beeped and flashed as it unlocked. If I didn't have the keys in my hand someone would accuse me of stealing it.
Once I clambered into the backseat I slumped against the leather bench and sobbed into it. everything I was feeling over the last few days had finally rushed out of me in an earthshattering wailing.
---
I wake up disoriented. I'm still wearing day clothes but the moon light from my window is glowing onto my skin. I'm confused and well rested, that was the best fucking sleep I've had in ages. Everything from earlier smashes into my brain like a stone wall, the reason of the best cat nap of my life.
Pent up emotion from John B trying to keep dad alive, The feeling of having friends, and the situation I've found myself in with JJ. It was a lot and I never found the time to really come to terms with it all. I'm glad that everything had left my body. I'm so light that I feel like i'm walking on white fluffy clouds.
A small bag from the Surf Shack had caught my eye, I reach over and snatch it from my nightstand. Pawing at the contents I pull out a gorgeous pastel bikini set, It's either Purple or blue. Hard to in point the colour in the dark room.
Getting off the bed I could hear something else sliding on the paper bag. I stare at it with furrowed eyebrows for a few seconds before I fetch out a necklace. it's a smooth chuck of sea glass with a calico scallop shell thread through thick string.
my heart glows at the gifts they have given me. I swore to myself I'd eventually pay them back. I'm not entirely sure how, but I would.
Flicking the light on I pull the bikini onto my body and it fits perfectly. In the small broken and smudge mirror in the corner of my room, I noted how pretty the colour looked on my skin. I wondered how they knew my correct size.
After wrapping the necklace around my neck I pulled my day clothes back on. With one last glance in the mirror I sauntered out of room in hopes to find the girls responsible for my glow.
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bleongambetta · 1 year
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Heroic Sacrifice and The Warlord (BL-G Hack)
I saw a post yesterday from @drakeanddice about Blaze of Glory mechanics in tabletop games and was going to just show him what I'm doing for that in (the still obnoxiously named) The BL-G Hack, but then realized it could maybe be a post of my own.
Let's talk mechanics for heroic sacrifice.
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Okay, maybe I lied, we're going to talk briefly about WHY mechanics for heroic sacrifice make sense for a game. This is still going to be mostly me dumping over a box of toys, a quick glance at planned mechanics, but I want to ground it a little bit first.
Why would a player want to have a heroic sacrifice moment?
Thematic Payoff: Fantasy fiction is full of moments of a character (especially one who has broken oaths and bonds) sacrificing themselves for the good of the many. We want to see a someone who we didn't think could live up to being a hero doing it.
Strategic Goal Reaching: Setting up a heroic sacrifice will often allow a momentary contract between the GM and the player; I really want X to happen, so much so that I'm willing to give up my character. In exchange, will you give us the cool thing? Yeah, nice.
Character Shuffling: Players don't always want to stick with one character or may have an RL reason that they need to change. This lets them not just fade away.
Kicking Up Drama: In a lot of games (lookin' at you dnd) combat can be lengthy and cumbersome for players that want dramatic play. This shortcuts combat (usually) in order to hit that drama.
With these goals in mind, an ability that does heroic sacrifice needs to be redemptive (it makes the character feel heroic even if they have not been previously), effective (it succeeds at a task), lethal (it definitely kills them), and big (the moment feels important).
The BL-G Hack's Approach
As discussed elsewhere the BL-G hack is a class based DnD-like that uses PbtA inspired abilities and has a focus on World Map play in a West Marches style.
If that sentence didn't make sense, don't worry, it's a game where you do fantasy stuff.
Characters in the BL-G hack will be able to gain Abilities through leveling up, circumstances, equipment, etc, and some of those will be Heroic Sacrifice moves. One of the classes that gets one of these abilities is The Tactician.
The Tactician is based on using martial prowess and tactical knowledge to improve your party's fighting and provides an inroad to the Map Phase. It's based on the 4th edition Warlord pretty explicitly, though it's exchanged martial healing for troop movement in a way that I think will be fun. Here is the Tactician's Heroic Sacrifice Move.
Sheath the Sword: When all is bleak and you take position at a choke point, you may give up your life to hold the position for as long as your allies need to escape to safety. You have a moment to speak with them, confessing your weaknesses and sharing your love for them. You battle long, until the ground is slick with blood and the bodies have stacked before you, weakening the enemy and ensuring that pursuit is delayed long enough to give your allies a true advantage. The spot you died becomes a Landmark where future heroes can use this ability at will.
Notice how this move is aimed to handle those four pieces:
Redemptive: You confess your weaknesses, a fitting redemption for a class that is about not showing weakness.
Effective: It definitively allows your allies to escape to safety from a bad situation. It specifically weakens and delays the pursuit.
Lethal: There's no roll, you die.
Big: Your sacrifice is so noble and awesome that the Map is permanently changed.
When a player picks this ability, they are letting the GM know that they want to have one of these moments and they are setting themselves up for it. It lets the GM know that they can kick up the danger, somebody has an out and they'll want to use it when the moment is right.
Not all classes will get Heroic Sacrifices (multiclassing is SUPER supported and I don't want the classes to feel same-y), but others will include magically pulling down a building onto yourself to destroy a major villain, healing those around you and creating a healing garden around your grave, and writing your soul into a song that can later be played to strengthen your friends.
Roadmap
Work on The BL-G Hack continues to slowly roll on according to my whims and lunch breaks. The actual PDF of it is probably a little bit off, but I'm hoping to have an accessible, playable version available soon. Being honest, Deadly Kobold Racing is going to come out before this in all likelihood, but BL-G Hack should be close behind.
If you'd like to get it as soon as possible, consider backing my Patreon where I'll be doing an announcement post with a link soon! There'll be an itch page too, but it'll need to be more final before that.
When it does come out, maybe I'll have a Heroic Sacrifice contest and add a Dramatic Location to honor whoever manages to pull one of these off first.
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Thiago makes such a such a good point! I've got two concepts that I think could handle this well to make it a little bit more tempting to take one of these possibly hard-to-pull off abilities.
I might take a look at adding an additional smaller rolling benefit onto these moves. Probably in a way that builds up their reasons for making the move! If I do that, I'll need to make sure that it's not too hugely impactful on it's own; I want it to be a little cherry on top, not a reason on it's own to get the move.
Also, free Abilities are DEFINITELY going to be a thing! My intention is that Abilities are given out like candy, look to Compendium Classes from Dungeon World for some idea of what I'm talking about. You hit a trigger, you get an ability, you have future level up options!
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greenlightbulbonawire · 2 months
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Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)
XXXIV.
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Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.
Author's note: From time to time I realize that real actual people read this and like the fic, which to me is genuinely crazy.
Thirty third chapter
Masterlist
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You were almost at the door when it flung open and a familiar face exited. Where have you seen this guy?
"You! You're still alive?"
"Who- ohhhhh, yeah!"
You offered a boy with orange curly hair, now cut into a mullet, a hand to shake, and he took it with a smile.
"I'm suprised you seem happy to see me, you looked really weirded out the last time we spoke, which, I don't blame you for."
The boy scoffed and pushed you back into the bar, waving at his friends and pointed towards you. They returned his gesture with an applaud and cheers.
"I mean, you threw us off a little, but it turned into a cool story later and we actually started betting on if you actually managed to get a holding of the Firelights like you wanted."
"I did! I almost died in the process, but I did."
He pulled a chair from a nearby table, offering you a seat before he sat on the opposite side, facing you.
"Really? So you belong to Firelights now? Cool."
"Mhm, I can't thank you enough for telling me about them."
"Please, it's nothing, but, what's your name anyway?"
"Oh, I've never told you? It's [reader], you?"
"I'm Felix."
You were leaning against the chair and he motioned for you to sit down.
"No I'm sorry, I can't stay for long, I just came here to grab a bottle whiskey."
"Well, suit yourself in that case. What for? Celebrating successful attacks on shimmer deliveries?"
You shook your head and chuckled.
"No, no, it's for uh, personal use."
You said goodbye to the boy and eyed the bar, the barman seemed unpresent, and you creeped up to the long counter. When you deemed the coast to be clear, you leaned over and grabbed the first bottle of liquor that resembled a whiskey. Someone shouted something and you turned on your heel and ran out. Once out of the pub, you pulled your hoverboard out, activating it midair and flying towards the not so far away destroyed factory, planning to hide there if anyone followed you out.
Noone seemed to bother though, but you still went there, just to be sure, zooming over the half blown up doors and disappearing into the darkness, still on the board. You ended up in the same ceilingless room where you healed your fracture, your lips cured into a scowl at the memory. This place was ridden with them, and not ones you wanted to remember, so why did you keep coming back here?
Was it the comforting familiarity or the satisfaction you felt at the unfunctionality of the place? Or maybe the solace of the solitude this place offered? You didn't know, and you didn't want to know, you wanted to forget this factory, not be back here. The room was gray and dirty, cluttered with piles of bricks and pieces of wood, you stood in it's middle, focusing your mind on the weak pinkish glow, the last thing you wanted to see, announcing the presences of shimmer.
You put the whiskey bottle into a pocket of your cloak, it's top half sticking out and flew slowly over to the glare. Everything inside you screamed to turn and go, to leave it be, to forget the liquid and just return to the base, but you were still approaching it. How come you haven't noticed it last time you were here? You stoppes before a little box with neatly stacked vials of shimmer, complex unscathed by the past explosion. You took one long look at it, before sighing and shoving it into yours other pocket.
You turned the device around and sped out of the factory before you could make more stupid decisions. The liquid meant nothing but trouble, so why take it? The negatives outweighed the positive by a lot, and on top of everything, Ekko would be seething if he knew you did this. So let's make sure he never does.
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thecharmedquill · 2 years
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In a Better LIght | Chapter Four D.M
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Mentions of the war, angst, substance use
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The sound of excited students filled your ears as you walked through the halls. Students were getting ready for the weekend as they walked to their final classes of the day. The first trip to hogsmeade was this weekend and younger students could not wait to leave campus. You and Hermoine has been walking to the library as you were on your free period, wanting to get some grading done.
“I can’t wait for this weekend. I plan on meeting Ron in Hogsmeade. I’ve missed him so much since the term started. You nodded, thinking about your plans for the weekend. “Are you planning on coming? I think Luna had mentioned wanting to go and pick up a few things from the shop.”
“Ah, no I can’t. I am a little stressed about how the students are handling the information in this week's lesson. I will stay back and grade some papers, maybe reevaluate our lessons.” Hermoine gave you a sympathetic look, you offered a smile. “I’m happy you’re seeing Ron, you’ve been non-stop talking about him since you got here.”
A pink tint flooded her cheeks. “Sorry about that, I guess I hadn’t realized I was droning on.”
“No worries, I’m only teas-“
“Shhhh,” Hermoine pulled you behind a pillar. The corridor you were walking through was mostly used by staff, there were few students walking through. You followed her gaze to see she was watching an intense fight between Parkinson and Malfoy. Pansy looks embarrassed, almost on the brink of tears but Draco looked unbothered.
“Don’t come crawling back to me when you want to ‘clear your head’” With that, Pansy stormed off down the corridor leaving nothing but the sound of her footsteps.
“Yikes, do you think that had anything to do with what happened last week?” Hermoine asked, thinking back to when you had caught them… in a questionable situation in the Astronomy Tower. “Typical”
The Saturday morning sun peeked through your window, leaving rays of sunlight on various objects around the room. You knew you had missed breakfast, deciding to catch up on a little bit of sleep before spending your day nose deep in papers. As you got ready for the day, deciding on plain black slacks, a blue jumper, and some tennies, you noticed a small envelope laying atop your stack of papers. It had your name displayed in delicate cursive, the back pressed with a blue emblem.
Y/N,
Try not to work yourself too hard. I plan on stopping by this evening with a few sweet treats. The group will miss you dearly.
All the best,
Loon
You smiled fondly at the letter. Luna had always been a close friend of yours. Many nights you spent together were filled with laughter and fun crafts she insisted on trying. Upon hearing she grew close to Neville over the summer, you were extremely happy for her, knowing someone cared as much about her as you did. Although you had been friends with the rest of the group, nothing compared to the comforting feeling Luna left in you.
You grabbed a small bag that was filled with a few snacks and a mixture Neville had given to you, you decided to wander the halls. While you would never say it allowed, you were thankful to rely on the herbs neville had given you and your friends. Some days it was hard to deal with the anxiety and flashbacks of the year prior and it gave you a chance to escape. You saw the scenes so vividly every time you closed your eyes.
Students and staff lay on makeshift cots as you and a handful of other students help Madame Pomfrey heal those who can be helped. You saw so much bloodshed shed around you, it became overwhelming as more people were brought in. You had spent countless hours handing out potions and ointments, using whatever spells you knew that could reverse the damage.
“Save only those you know you can heal. Leave the rest.” Someone had said, sadness laced in every every word.
You shivered, taking a long drag from the mixtures. Hogwarts has since began healing, the staff had been doing a great job with repairing the building and restoring things within the castle. Soon enough, your brain began to clear up, leaving you to enjoy the view of the lake before you. It was quite beautiful how the sun hit the dark lake, somehow causing a glimmer in the tides. You’d remember how Luna convinced you to go swimming one night in fifth year, there was a cool breeze and the leaves had begun to fall off the leaves. You both ended up getting sick later that week.
The sound of footsteps pulled you out of your trance. A head of platinum blonde hair made its way up the steps, muttering to themself. Once you locked eyes, Malfoy jumped back a little. “Sorry, I didn't know anyone was up here.”
“Noooo, no.” You could hear your words come out slightly slurred, causing you to sober up a little. “You can stay, I don’t mind.”
“Okay.” He shrugged, taking a seat next to you. You stared at him for a few moments, taking in his appearance. He was wearing his old quidditch jumper and, to your surprise, a pair of comfy jeans. His hair wasn’t styled back as it usually was but messy along his forehead. If it was anyone else, you’d admit that he looked good. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head of any thoughts on how he looked. “I am a bit wonky, to be honest. Neville gave me some weed, so I’ve been smoking.”
“Weed?” Malfoy looked perplexed, the wizarding world had so many potions and spells they hadn’t any need for muggle substances.
“Yeah, it’s a muggle thing. Try some.” You passed the delicate stick to Draco, briefly touching his cold skin. The sensations left you tingly, or perhaps that was the drug. “You smoke it like a cigarette.”
He nodded, taking a small drag.”It’s kind of flowery.”
“That’s Luna, she mixes lavender in with it for calming affects.” You smiled fondly. You watched as he took another drag, this time his body visibly unclenched.
“It feels nice.” He tried handing it back, instead you placed your lips on the filter taking another drag before rustling through your bag. Draco looked slightly shocked, but quickly laughed it off.
“I have some snacks in my bag if you get hungry.” You opened a few candy boxes and a bag of chips. You two sat in silence for a moment, looking off at the scenery around you. After awhile, you feel comfortable in his presence and decide to strike up a conversation. “So, how are your classes going? Are the student adjusting well?
“Oh, uh, yeah classes are going pretty good.” He popped a Birdie Bott’s into his mouth grimacing at the flavor. “Sometimes it’s hard to teach knowing you had just learned the material yourself.”
“I get that. ‘Moline and I have been having some difficulties getting students to connect to your content.” You grabbed a handful of chips, shoving them in your mouth, “It’s hard to explain the importance of Muggle studies, even after everything that’s happened.”
“Right.” Draco went quiet at the mention of the war. You hadn’t meant to upset him and instantly felt bad for how it came out. Truthfully, you felt bad for Draco as he and his family had gone through a lot over the summer. It wasn’t spoken a lot by your peers, but after the war the punishments came down hard and you couldn’t help but wonder if the Ministry understood that kids like Draco hardly knew any better.
“Can I ask you something? No judgment.” You crossed your heart, hoping he would understand the gesture. He nodded. “How are you? I mean really, how are you?”
He paused for a second, as if he was thinking of what to say next. “It has been really hard. I am grateful that Headmistress Mcgonagall has given me this opportunity to try and make amends with the school.”
“How is your mother?” There was a pause, a lonely tear sliding down Draco’s cheek. You quickly moved to wipe it away, not meaning to upset him as much. “You don’t have to-“
“It was really lonely in the Manor when father…left.” He took a drag, turning to look at you. For the first time, you felt like you were seeing Draco Malfoy. Not just the facade he presented himself to be. “She has been doing better, though. The Ministry has allowed her to run a charity for the families who have been affected by the war, so that takes up most of her time.”
“I’m happy for her. I often worried for you and your mother, as I know not everything is what it seems.” You reached out for the remainder of the joint, taking one long drag before using a spell to burn it out so you could place it in a tin. When you were done cleaning up a bit, you looked up catching Draco’s stare.
“That’s really refreshing to hear.” He adjusted his legs so they were now in front of him, his feet landing on either side of yours. “I hear what the students say in the halls. It’s very tiring. I can’t say anything because, in a way, they are right.”
Often, you have heard students say crude things about Malfoy. Calling him names such as snake and monster. You could see his eyes cloud with sorrow, “I don’t think they are right. They weren’t there, they don’t know the whole story.”
“Yeah.” Although he agreed with you, you could still see the harsh words his inner self was saying. You decided to give him some space and began clearing up the snacks. Just as you went to grab a box of jellybeans, a hand stopped you. “Would it be okay if I took these?”
“Of course.” You smiled, your eyes met and he offered you a genuine smile.
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crystalelemental · 1 year
Text
Sync Pair Retrospective - Sygna Suit Kris
SS Kris remains one of my favorite sync pairs in the game.  Like, even just from a design perspective, it's wonderful.  The combo with Suicune was ideal, the role she plays is divine, there's just no flaw to Kris.   She's the best unit ever.  Post over.  *pink intensifies*  No, stay back!
When I consider what makes a truly elite support pair, I think it comes down to a few factors.  Obviously there's the severity and efficiency angle, but what makes someone truly worth scouting for is having a specific niche in which they excel, and a broad role which lets them grow beyond one gimmick.
Kris' specific is Rain Dance.  Following Ingo and SS Morty, this trait alone speaks volumes.  Role compression in the form of buffing and field effect is divine, and Rain had value for the same reason as Sun: there are a ton of options that had Rain-based multipliers, but weren't Water-type and wanted Zone.  Now they had both.  And because Kris emphasized buffing offensive stats, specifically special offense?  She enabled options that couldn't buff, like Clair and NY!Lance, who were otherwise in an atrocious position.
Her broad function is a bit unusual, and I think it's because of this that she never really solidified any specific team composition like Morty did with SS Lyra/SS Erika.  See, as a special attack/crit buffer, there are other options.  SC Jasmine has special defense debuffing and Safety Net, SC Lillie had a ton of healing and a high flinch rate and much faster buffs, and later you'd even get SS Brendan who had tremendous debuffing potential that rivaled a field effect for broad application.  These things offered competition to Kris, who some felt wasn't up to the task.  Because they didn't realize her true benefit was in Moves Up Next.
Team Limited Special Boost on her grid is the best skill she has.  Her trainer move naturally gives +1 special moves up next under Rain, but this skill could make it +2.  And every other MP move, like setting rain or healing?  That can also give +1.   Kris was, and is, the fastest-acting special moves up next buffer in the game.  The reason she never had a specific team comp she excelled at was because she covered a whole damn field.  SS Kris + Anni Raihan covered three types of field effects, and stacked special moves up next to the moon.  There are numerous showcasings of how insane this gets, but my favorite remains Zinfogel showing off Ethan's Eruption.  It's so funny.  So while the others had their own unique niches to bring to the table, Kris stomps them all with how hard she pushes offense.
That's not to say Kris didn't have flaws.  Like most of these, the main one was speed and gauge control.  Kris is fairly slow, and only got Team Swift Reaction 4 on grid, probably as a limitation to her greatness.  So unfortunately, heavy, gauge-hungry monsters like Archie could have some serious issues with Kris.
Just kidding!   Eevee Day Variety scouts introduced Lyra and Vaporeon, a sync pair that provided Rain on every sync, blocked crits for the team under rain, and gave +2 speed to the team for each use of trainer move.  You thought Kris had a flaw?  Uh-uh, Kris has no flaws.  In fact, she has no flaws so hard that her best partner also matches a ton of her theme skills, and she could drop Vigilance lucky skill for Head Start 1 with literally no drawbacks.  It was cute how you all tried, though.
The thing is, Kris is so good that, unlike Ethan who is largely top dog because no one tried, Kris has faced competition twice.  The first was C!Calem, another Master Fair Support who packed not only Rain, but Dark Zone.   Moreover, Calem didn't have Kris' central weakness: being kinda slow.   Calem had gauge acceleration and really good speed and recharging strike, which fixed the issue she had.  However, Calem wound up being frail, while Kris had bulk for days. Calem had a Buddy condition to meet that was particularly rough on Gauntlet, with a max limit of 2MP, while Kris did whatever she wanted and a minimum of 3. And despite having a better buffing kit for physical, leading you to think he's a good supplement to Kris in Rain, his decision to give special moves with Rain instead of physical meant he was actively trying to pick a fight that he could not win.  Calem remains in the Rain meta solely because Kris cannot help physical Water types and keeps him around for their sake, because she is a benevolent empress.  But he sure as hell didn’t scare her.
Even now, we get SS Mina, who is coming in with Rain and Fairy Zone.  And just like Calem, Mina is immediately slapped out of Rain.  Because how can you possibly compete?  Mina doesn't even cap crit rate, it's just +6 special attack. Who's gonna use that, Barry?  Mina doesn't offer anything to Rain that Kris doesn't do better, and thus she is relegated to Fairy, or a secondary Rain setter if you're going for Gauntlet streaks or some cute off-type thing in CS.  Two challengers rose, but no one can take the Rain Throne from Kris.  Though man, can we talk about how we have THREE Supports that set Rain, and none of them are perfectly physical aligned?  I think DeNA hates SS Grimsley. Now. There is one who has challenged Kris, and can be said to have won.   Champion Bede is the only time I feel like Kris flinched first.
Bede is the most absurd general support in the game, and I don't feel like it's close.  +2 to both offenses and crit and +1 to both physical and special moves up next on trainer move, Buddy move gives Free Moves Next and defensive stats, every sync from anyone replenishes 1MP.  Bede is wildly aggressive, consistent, and persistent.  Kris' flaw is that Team Limited Special Boost is only a 30% chance.  While she has a high ceiling, she has a low floor, and she's sadly closer to the floor.  Bede may not directly compete, but because he never runs out of MP, he's a much more consistent option in Gauntlet, while his Free Moves Next makes CS a breeze.  He even has the audacity to get SEUN on sync for the entire team, just blowing past Kris' damage.  And because he offers physical boosting too, he's not even as specific as Kris.  Bede is unquestionably the best support, and for the first time, I am forced to admit that maybe, just maybe, Kris has a flaw.
But man, if you're going through an entire year slapping aside competition, including another Master Fair support, you're doing well.  Honestly, even in the contest against Bede, Kris does still retain a niche, by having that higher threshold for Special Moves Up Next.  She can pump higher damage than Bede for a single shot, with some decent support.   And of course, the Rain.  Bede can claim conquest wherever he wants, but he won't be breaking into the domain of Rain any time soon.
So to bring this back around.  Kris has faced direct competition from two separate competitors to her Rain Support role, and unlike Morty, she beat both and sent them packing, but lets Calem visit on weekends for Grimsley's sake. Even faced against the best support in the game, Kris retains a niche in the same offensive playstyle of move next boosting, and has complete dominion over Rain.  If your only competition is the best support in the game, and you didn't even lose?  You are top tier.   You are top tier all day.
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randomevie · 1 year
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Who Am I?
i am love. the butterflies that float around in one’s stomach while they look at their object of admiration. the longing looks from across the room. the joy of spending time with friends. the feeling of a heart beating at lightening speed when two sets of eyes gaze into each other.
i am hate. the venomous words spit from one’s mouth in an argument. the white-hot blood coursing through veins fast enough to change the entire perspective of the world. the sting of a slap to the face.
i am intelligence. a library of knowledge that one could never read in a single lifetime. every secret of the universe is locked inside of any physical form i may take, even if i cannot yet unlock them myself.
i am hurt. the stabbing pain in one’s heart as they lose the one’s they love. sobbing alone late at night in hopes it’ll all be okay eventually. wishing it could be anything other than this.
i am numbness. fuzzy feelings in limbs as the mind watches the body without controlling it. distorted voices of the world around as thoughts bounce around like millions of bouncy balls.
i am curiosity. eyes peeking at someone else’s phone for a little bit of random information. asking someone what’s going on just to have the information. books stacked high that can be opened to find underlining, ridiculous annotations, doodles.
i am adventure. running full speed into something you don’t truly understand. traveling across continents, across worlds, just for the fun of it. seeking a thrill that doesn’t come with a regular life.
i am addiction. the craving of feeling something that isn’t there. the yearning and longing to have that thing back with you.
i am depression. a darkness washed over the mind, slowly corrupting and destroying. struggling to get up to do basic human needs. wishing to sleep forever.
i am injury. scars littering a body from the smallest and most insignificant moments to the most important. blood drying into a scab. pain that slowly eases away.
i am admiration. twinkling eyes directed at an idol. wanting to be more like whoever it may be. finding disappointment when the realization hits they were not all they were cracked up to be.
i am healing. revisiting traumatic memories to make the future better. trying to talk through issues with friends and family. slowly learning it wasn’t deserved.
i am nature. the trees growing from the ground humanity destroys. a daisy blooming from a crack in the sidewalk. an animal who loses its habitat for something superficial.
i am regret. the sinking feeling when it sets in that it wasn’t them who fucked up. the wishing it could’ve been different. the begging for it to go back to the way it used to be.
i am life itself. every small piece of pain and pleasure. every twinge of sadness, every explosion of joy. i’m all that i want to be, and all that i don’t. i am the eventual death every single one of us will see. i am everything and nothing at all.
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xxacidicgoddessxx · 2 years
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Redesigning creepypasta characters
Jeff the Killer
Backstory version based on Banningk1979
BASIC INFORMATION
Name: Jeffery Woods
Nickname(s): Jeff
Age: 19
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Height: 5’7 (170 cm)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Painfully straight
Species: Human
Status: Alive
Race: Caucasian
APPEARANCE
Skin color: Pale, white
Eye color: Blind left eye, green right eye
Hair color: Black
Hair style: Short, greasy
Facial hair: -
Facial markings: Burn marks on the left side of his face (of which will gradually heal)
Piercings: -
Outfit(s): Black jacket, blue jeans, white shoes
Accessories: -
BACKGROUND
Jeffery Woods grew up in a family that only cared about appearances. He and his brother Liu were brands that gave name to their family
Their parents only cared about getting on other people's good sides, but when it came down to it - they were snakes. If a coworker's son was taking boxing lessons, Jeff had to take boxing lessons to prove their family was superior
In the grand scheme of things, that's all Jeff and Liu were — show-dogs. They were strangers in their own home when they weren't "contributing" to something
Liu was down right attention starved and quickly became a people pleaser, but at the core of it all he was just as frustrated as Jeff
Both of them knew when to be civil when necessary out of convenience, neither of them liked fighting
At least at the time, that is
Jeff's frustration coiled around him, tainting him, twisting at his insides. At times, fighting seemed like the only way he could communicate in a world where everyone lies to get what they want
Eventually, fighting became a source of pleasure. He found it cathartic and loved the rush it gave him to be in control. When it's only you left to protect yourself, fighting is all you can do
Some people say that when someone goes insane they snap - but that's not the case
From day one society ingrains the value of fighting into people, and when people listen, they love to look the other way
Jeff's not a monster, he's a fighter
That's what society made him to be, and if they can't take the heat, well, who's to say anyone's surprised
It was when Jeff realized nothing was going to give that he took it into his own hands. He got rid of the threat his parents posed, got rid of that damn corrupted cop and that smarmy group of kids
He can't believe he actually felt sorry for them at first. There's no use in sympathizing with the weak if you want to survive
He abandoned his old life, abandoned Liu, and left
PERSONALITY
Jeff has a big mouth on him
Don't get me wrong, as I said: he was raised to be civil when it counted, and he knows how to recognize when the odds are stacked against him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a short fuse
Back when he had Liu, he had a reason to hold back. Now that he's got no one to reprimand him for his actions, there's really no reason why he can't say or do whatever the fuck he wants
He doesn't like change and hates relying on other people. People can be unpredictable, and when it comes down to it, the only person you can trust is yourself
He quickly learned to be observant, learned to read other people's body language. In a house full of egg shells, one has to learn
He might say he's not a sadistic person, but he 100% is
He was quick to generalize pleasure with frustration, which is in part why he came to love fighting
Frustration was a promise tied to the anticipation of a fight, and fighting meant that he could convey what he felt
He finds a twisted sense of pleasure when people beg. His favorite part of killing is when people beg, it shows that they know where their place is – which just so happens to be beneath him
He hates this part of himself mainly because it reminds him of his parents, but it's the one thing he'd agree with them on
All in all, proving that people are beneath him is another one of his defense mechanisms in proving he is still in control
He just doesn't see the point in trying to persuade someone into seeing him as who he really is
People love to look down on anyone as if they're greater
With that said: it's best to avoid showing fear towards him – it will give him incentive to hurt you
Oh, and never let him see you act weak
Jeff is a manipulator through and through
What he does isn't because he wants to, it's always going to be someone else's fault for making him do the things he does
… Which means he’s also highly hypocritical
BEHAVIOR
Normal mood: Calm, “civil”, has an undeniable edge, perceptive
Temper: Quick to become frustrated, the poster child of “Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss”
Discipline: Will try to be diplomatic, but having grown up where fighting was the only means of communicating, he becomes tense and ready for a fight whenever his views are put into question
Strengths: Hand-to-hand combat, enhanced durability
Weaknesses: Blind in one eye
Drives: Seeks to “save the weak” from a cruel society
Fears: Commitment
Likes: Killing, looking at the stars
Dislikes: Not being in control of a situation, cops
Triggers: Anyone who looks like Liu
Inspirations: His own convictions
Habits: Scratching the scarred side of his face
OTHER
Family: Shelia and Matt Woods (parents - deceased), Liu (brother - alive)
Friends: -
Enemies: -
Love interests: -
Hobbies: -
Talents: Whittling
Occupation: Killing
Weapon: Knives
Powers: -
Kill style: Stabbing, strangulation
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sunrisetune · 2 years
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Hi Goose. Another Dragon Age prompt -- I was trying for angstier, but I'm too sleepy, so here it is as it is: Anders attempts to fulfill a patient's last request, with or without help from Hawke (or anyone else you wish).
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(ID: An edited ‘The Office’ meme, of a man looking off into the distance with a determined expression. The caption says, “I’m going to make this way angstier than it needs to be.”)
So I actually have more of this bc I can’t write short-fic to save my fuckening life, But I wanted to give you something before the new year! Therefore: Please accept this slightly reworked excerpt of a thing; hopefully it should stand mostly on its own?? \o/
- 740-ish words - Dashes of Hawke/Anders; Anders was right but he still absolutely did things wrong - And you know when sometimes people write a friendship route Hawke and (or / ) Anders where both of them are completely okay with Kirkwall being destroyed, or where Justice and Anders are chill with the amount of death the war causes because it's a ~needed price to pay~? Fuck those two interpretations specifically.
CW: The end of Act Three - violence, brief gore, mass / crowd death, children in dangerous situations, fire, suicidal ideation.
~
‘Pyre’
The chunk of what was once Chantry wall careened out of the sky and cracked the street in front of him. He flinched, his arcane shield flaring for a moment before the dust cleared. When it did he wished it hadn't, but forced himself to look. Stone, and flesh. A trail of blood seeping from underneath a wrinkled hand stuck out from the wreckage. Anders felt sick. Then he heard the wail, and went to them.
The poor elf woman caught under the wreckage refused to accept his healing, or his frantic instructions not to move. Instead she inched closer to her husband and pressed her cheek to his bleeding skull, murmuring comforts. There was nothing Anders could do for them, he realized-- half his face was gone, and with her chest in that shape, she had only minutes. She looked up at Anders through the mess of her hair. "Please," she said. "The baby." He turned. There, a few feet away-- she must have thrown them-- a bundle of rags the size of a young elf child. The bundle was breathing.  Anders looked back at the poor mother and nodded. Her eyes filled with tears of relief and pain. “Thank you.” He had no elfroot or lotus to ease their passing but she put her face to her husband’s and closed her eyes, and he cut her throat as fast and smoothly as he could.
Anders’ hands were shaking and still covered in gore, but he picked the child up, carefully. He checked their breathing, turning their face to his chest to give them some small measure of protection. At least there wasn’t any darkspawn blood on him. They’d make it to the alienage, Andraste willing.
He wove through the broken streets with his arcane shield shimmering dimly around him, his aura stretching as far as his concentration could spare, healing those around him for the few seconds they were close enough. It wasn't much but he could hope it might give someone another few minutes. Mechanically, he stepped around the corpses. All but ignored the screams coming from the burning stacks of hovels euphemistically called 'apartments' throughout Lowtown. The buildings were too cramped, too close together, and the fire spread like a ravenous beast. The most he could do was pray that they'd die quickly of the smoke.
It felt almost like he did on his worst weeks: everything so loud, the air itself ringing cruelly, nothing getting through to him. But something was keeping him just above that, like treading water in a freezing lake. Justice, trying to protect him. They were one now but nonetheless Anders hadn't felt the spirit so present in a long time; not furious, burying him in his own mind, but simply there. Sustaining. They probably wouldn't have been able to continue at all if it wasn't for Justice. Back in front of the ruined Chantry, after Hawke had thrown her dagger to the stones, Anders certainly wouldn't have been able to stand. (She shouldn’t have let them go. They should be dead. They should have paid--) They were hollow but for a viciously twisting rage; a great, helpless guilt. Rage at the templars, at himself. Them both. How dare his heart ache. How dare their eyes burn with more than the ashes?  How could they grieve when they were responsible for the suffering of these people? He'd lit the fire. Their home was burning. What could he possibly do for them now?
Something. They must do something.
It’s a monstrous thing, feeling such sorrow and certainty they'd do it again.
Amid all the chaos, his siblings face down their oppressors. More and more of them twist grotesquely into abominations as the fight continues-- Anders wants to scream at them in betrayal. Still others fall on their knees and beg before the steel struck through their throats. What kind of a way was that for mages to die? They were meant to fight! His fingers tighten on their staff until they're nearly claws of his own. It-- didn't matter. The world would know, no matter how many were dead. And he'd help them, he'd join the battle with or without Hawke, and do what he came here to. ('Without Hawke'. Anders couldn’t linger on that thought.) Maybe they could still save some of them, or maybe he could slaughter enough templars that some of this rage would ease.
Just not yet. The child in his arm breathed, fragile, still unconscious. If he could be a healer still-- even once more-- he had a promise to keep.
~
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