#im being Bold today and not saving this in the draft
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The problem is they both make sense.
John lacks any agency, and as his abilities start "failing" he loses more of what little he has. The only things he can do is perceive the world through Arthur's eyes and talk to him in his head. That's it. He has no material effect on the world around them. He is solely 100% reliant on Arthur for his continued existence and influence on the world. He can't ignore Arthur whatsoever (unlike Arthur who can ignore John easy peasy) he can't Do anything but talk and observe (and also experience the deaths of people Arthur touches but ultimately that does nothing). Of course he is going to be distrustful of other people and possessive over Arthur.
Arthur feels like suddenly he can't rely on this very reliable thing that has been keeping him alive this whole time. It would shake anyone up. Especially with the shit they have to deal with? If he can't rely on directions he will be sliced to ribbons or shot without a chance of fighting back. They may as well be dead already. And for all of John's lack of agency, it's Arthur who has to actually deal with the consequences. He's the one who's getting wounded and torn to bits and has to fight all that. Plus it's HIS body. If someone's existence relies on your body, you have the right to refuse, bodily autonomy is a human right.
The problem is they've gone through this cycle before (cycle of learning and forgetting and learning that they are One Unit and need to work Together vs The Problems and forgetting) but never has it shaken Arthur so much. Even when they've argued before he would still listen to John's directions. But now? Everything is in question (as is probably the intent behind John's "failing" abilities.) They DO need other people to help and they DO need to be careful and include John. They cannot truly trust someone else while keeping John a secret or without his input. Arthur has the most control over the situation and the onus is on him to make the compromises. Yeah it's his body but 1) countless times he promised to John that they were in this together and 2) at this point separating them would be so traumatic that they may as well be One.
All of this is to say, curious that Arthur is so willing to tell Oscar about literally everything EXCEPT John. What happens if he does? What if there's someone else to assert for John in a way Arthur can't ignore so easily? Would that legitimize the shared ownership of Arthur's body? What does it mean for John to gain agency by the loss of Arthur's autonomy?
#im being Bold today and not saving this in the draft#pls be nicey if you disagree#i have a lot of confusing thoughts and feelings about what bodily autonomy means when youve got a guy living in your head#that is somehow separate from yourself#malevolent#malevolent spoilers#goobabble#also to be clear I think Arthur is being complete major dickhead#i understand why he feels the way he does#or at least how i think hes feeling#and i think john would stab him if he could#slap him upside the head for being a dummy#i wouldnt blame him lol#i cant include all the intricacies of their dynamic so theres def things that may be missing here but you get it#also yeah i watched the fionna and cake finale lol#to be completely honest i dont think these guys even know what Trust is#they are all men of faith#posting before i can overthink myself into a spiral about this
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TALK ABOUT AMERICAN HEALTHCARE I HAVE AN IDEA OF WHY IT'S THERE BUT I WANNA HEAR THE EXPLANATION ALSO THE ONLY HOUSE THAT"S NOT ON FIRE (YET) FOR THE SAME REASON I JUST WANNA SEE THE ANALYSIS:TM: IF U WANT I WANNA SEE IF I GOT IT RIGHT :D
Hi :DDD. Thank u for asking,,,, I have many thoughts. I am sorry in advance. This is one of those things I will put under a readmore because I am into rambling. IT GOT A LOT LONGER THAN ANTICIPATED IM SORRY. Like. a lot. It was 4 pages in google docs because i dont trust tumblr to save my drafts
Okay a lot of my Ranboo thoughts are about the syndicate / boreal trio / peerpressure duo. But youâre probably aware I am a Them enthusiast first and both a dsmp enjoyer and person second. Because. I really like the syndicate. I also donât have too too many thoughts on the more recent lore past the experiments. Once the in character monologues stopped, so did my brain. I communicate through monologue to monologue communication.
American Healthcare is actually gonna be the main reason why this is so long bc it works Very Much for like three different reasons. One sorta niche and abstracter reason is a stream that was basically never elaborated on back in March, either the day after or very close to the peerpressure Egg confrontation stream. The egg called him a coward (for some reason my brain can Only come up with the âstop saying i look like chicken little. heâs dumb, and a coward, and i am NOT a cowardâ vine), and he is not a coward, so he decided to make an action plan to bring the server together by acting as a mediator for all parties and try to make sure that everyone is happy, because heâs the only one that can see all sides, or something. This was where he said the big happy family⢠line but other than Ranboo Become Dream?? analysis nothing else really happened and everything went along as normal.
(I also always held a little bit of suspicion on this stream actually and thought it might be the influence of the egg, because it says it can give one whatever they want, and ranboo wants to make everyone happy and this was a totally foolproof way of doing that. Sort of in a similar way that BBH is convinced that his plan will totally make Skeppy happy. But also Ranboo is just like that, but this felt a little more on the nose than usual and he did fall into the egg and made his decisions after being egged on by it, buT WEâLL NEVER KNOW, WILL WE?
⌠also I really wanted to see more egg conflict at the time. Peerpressure rlly got involved in the egg plot for cameos at the banquet and nothing else. I do not blame anyone and respect the ccs for all of their attempts to weave plots together but also. alsoâŚ. we.. we coulda had so muchâŚ)
That was a little off topic from the point, but⌠he really just thinks he can save the sick⌠he can see that everyone on the server is unwell and is wrong but, yâknow, look inwardly, the unwell is coming from inside the house. And an inherent problem of the way that the server runs. And if this is still lowkey in effect or not (idk man a) ranboo has monologued a lot I simply chose a one off from march to grow emotionally attached to and b) i think that my brain has shut off once ranboo stopped solo lore streams), it would probably go the way that most choosing to change the system from the inside goes. Which is the point of the song and stuff! He will inevitably decide whatâs too far, whether he will either admit itâs a choice or just feel that itâs what he has to do. The, uh, dealing with the devil, to be polite.
in conclusion (but we are not close to done here iâm holding you for a bit longer), i think a lot about that stream and i think that shows what he wants to be, at the very least, and continuing down that path would definitely go into being far more trouble than just a noble goal of wanting to help people, from negotiating with corruption (The lobbyists, the Congressmen and lies bit) and that the server canât really be brought together and saved like that (When things are more and more this way / Sometimes it's like they'd rather die)
THE LESS. vwoop why have you written an unnecessarily long post about one stream in your playlist character analysis reason is both more literal and piece by piece and also Syndicate, My Beloved, you know the drill. We are going line by line because I have a lot of feelings about American Healthcare, apparently.
This also comes back to that everyone on the server is doing Really Badly, all of the time, but mostly his time in LâManburg. For one, he is pretty complacent in everything and doesnât really accomplish much in terms of actual change, so like Well people die every day / I wouldn't have it any other way / I just think they should feel good while they are alive. An example of this is Exiled Tommy â who Iâd also metaphorically put as the dead man just for funsies, since Tommyâs whole exile thing was one of the first things Ranboo experienced on the serverâas he did try to be friends with Tommy and keep him company with his letters, but he still has no power over the actual issue at hand. Just trying to make it a bit more bearable. Similarly is Techno, while Ranboo still participated in the butcher army that was trying to kill him, he helped in the meantime until he âdiedâ.
And then itâs the Realization that participating in the system doesnât really help much, and the subsequent Everything. It could be getting mad at the whole government system and that he didnât mean to contribute to the harm, or how he fought with Fundy using hs ideology but not in the way that Ranboo thought. It could also be standing up to his hallucination Dream, in that he doesnât try this hard to be a good person just to be accused of helping with all of the things that he may or may not have helped with. (That is⌠a discussion for not right now, I donât know.) And I think this sort of area is also where itâs like theyâd rather die is also relevant, cause Doomsday. Nobody could just set aside their governments and just get along, though Ranboo had his own solution to fighting and things.
And then he joins the Syndicate! And the lyrics of the song are directly Government Bad, because government bad. Canon anarchist, has done things that heâs not proud of as a part of the government. The lines it was the government / ⌠It got louder over the years / Until all that I could hear was flies and all.
But honestly I think in the Syndicate heâs still trying to âsave the sickâ! Because the Syndicate donât All fit eye to eye either. Heâs the token pacifist, and a vote against violence whenever it comes down to it. Not all anarchists are violent but Techno and Phil will probably react strongly when provoked, due to All the past events, and I live in a world where their trauma and issues get talked about as much as everyone elseâs. Since everything is decided by vote itâd probably be split between them and Ranboo + Niki, who is in her healing/no longer resorting to murder arc. Heâll help them negotiate and then everything will Be Okay, ideally.
(Also I just like the idea of Ranboo believing that he is helping the people heâs living with because canonically cc!Ranboo has said he just really cares about his family and the syndicate are included in his family shut up but they also just believe theyâre helping him and yes itâs self indulgent. I care them. Particularly Endduo, actually, or whatever they're called, I am not bold enough to think Ranboo looks at Techno and thinks I Can Fix Him, but. Philza Minecraft will one day talk about his feelings. One day.)
Thereâs also radioduo and beeduo as of recentâ really Iâm just saying I think that Ranboo constantly has a Need To Help People, believes he can do it, and it will come back to hurt him in the end (except for the Syndicate because Iâm in denial. The Syndicate canât fall out if they never stream together :) ).
THIS CONCLUDES THE AMERICAN HEALTHCARE PORTION OF OUR SHOW.
The Only House Thatâs Not on Fire Yet !! I like this one. This is also blatantly there cause Syndicate. They are the only faction that is not actively falling apart, and this could absolutely be because they never stream together. But I do not care. However we are also going to go through this one piece by piece because weâre nearing 1500 words here and I might as well embarrass myself more. I am writing an incredibly informal essay about Ranboo My _Beloved (i assume his middle name is My, and heâs just one of those people who write his full full name) and this is the third page. If youâre still reading this, Iâm sorry. Here we go.
There are lines that just seem like an unwell but recovering person, and I like to sort of think that way about Ranboo in the arctic during the down time. âI feel knotted up today / But in a most exquisite wayâ and âI feel strangely regular / But honestly I prefer it to / The usual bizarreâ are just! Heâs just hanging out. Heâs doing good. There is the acknowledgement that heâs usually not doing well, and all of the episodes that heâs had in the past, and itâs probably strange to be doing well in the midst of everything, and thereâs probably something impending, but now? Heâs doing good!
The verses directly after both of those ones are about uncertainty and trust and such, and I feel like thatâs not necessarily about just One relationship but all of them. Will cause problems as long as he has an accomplice. He is not confident but he trusts and loves people.
âThis suit doesnât fit me / I made it conterfeitlyâ I just like to think about Ranboo in his fancy suit, but itâs just a little wrong because he actually has no idea what heâs doing. I also like to think about Ranboo in a cape to fit in with boreal trio and later the syndicate, and emerald duo had matchy blue outfits from the Antarctic Empire⌠and trying to fit in with themâŚ. or maybe They make him something.. You know. Much to think about.
âKilling me with dĂŠjĂ vuâ I think is like. A little less fun, because despite how well things are going, the enderwalk is still not resolved and he had even less answers when I started thinking âthis is a ranboo songâ. Just as it relates to having a strange sense of reality and stuff, which goes into specifics of enderwalk headcanons, which would make this far longer. Even though Iâve framed it as a negative, there is also the more positive note of âOh! I just thought of how to change all the hate / Into love with the old switcheroo / Dancing in my dĂŠjĂ vu / You'll be dancing tooâ which Iâd rather explain broken up but I feel like as itâs a full verse it should be together. The first part is connected to my general thoughts of him explained earlier tbh, heâs trying Very Hard to make everyone happy and fix things. And adding the second part to it is just like! He is trying to make sense of everything, and itâs not so scary as time goes by. Since the experiments where heâs been (questionably) trying to be more comfortable and get more answers.
This was very long. I am sorry. I am ending it here and probably not going to do much formatting to make it readable because it is very late oâclock and also this is four pages and 2000 words I am so sorry. But if you read this far then. Uhhh thank. ^v^.
#asks#vwoop.noises#âgraphiteâ#Reader. graphite in particular. i am so sorry.#this is. kind of just embarassing actually#if you notice a tone switch at the end its cause i got tired and didnt want to finish this in the morning#and look at my past sins#2k words of analyzing r*nboo in the direction of some internet songs. not. the thing you want to think hard abot that when you wake up#ok i fell asleep looking at the post page. 10/10#but uh otherwise thank u for asking (. â á´ â.)
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Shut Up And Kiss Me [14/?] | Tom Hiddleston
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader
WC: 2.3k
Warnings: pining, angst, implications of sex,
Summary: You and Professor Hiddleston have been colleagues for many years now, and through those years the hatred for each other has only grown. Now, as a new school year starts, youâre being told that you have to share a classroom or a class. Neither are happy about the outcome, but knowing youâll never come to an agreement, you let the class choose for you. Team-teaching is rare in 2019, but it is a lot harder to do when you canât stand the person youâre doing it with.
A/N: so this is late, and i havent posted anything in like two weeks, but schoolâs crazy and im kinda tired but this is finally here and iâve reached 1k followers. I donât know if iâll make something out of it but thank you to every one who is following me and i hope you enjoy this part ^_^
Little goes through Tomâs mind when he wakes. Surprise catches him at the feel of someone lying in his arms, and more surprise at the unfamiliar room heâs in. Tom looks down to see whoâs cuddling into him, whose fanning breath spreads across his chest.
His breath gets punched out of him at the sight of Y/N. Her hair tangled, arm draped over his bare torso, and heavy breathing mixing with the hammering of his heart.
Oh, God. He didnâtâŚ?
But Tom knows he did. He didnât drink. The events of the previous night flashes through his mind. How sheâd asked if he could drive her home, how sheâd needed help to get inside, how heâd watched her fiddle with her keys before getting open the door. He remembers the way his chest beat so rapidly, waiting for that inevitable goodbye that was doomed to come.
Everything stopped working inside of him when she pulled him into her doorway, when she tugged at his tie and made the motion to look up. Adrenaline had coursed through his body when his lips met hers. The five years of pining and trying to get over the painful breaking of his heart had been swept to the side. When sheâd deepened the kiss with her arms wrapped around his neck and a jump before her legs were wrapped around his waist and his hand had come to cup her ass and theyâd moved to the bedroom, lips still locked together, had been the most intense moment heâd ever experienced.
The picture he saved in his mind of her naked body in bed pops up and Tom has to shake away the thought.
This isnât happening. Y/N had been drunk. She is with Chris. It was a mistake, clearly. A drunken one.
And heâd made the mistake of indulging.
It takes him only a second to make up his mind. He does his best to peel himself away from her, gaze flickering to her every moment just to make sure she doesnât wake up. Boxers on, trousers on, shirt wrongly buttoned, a quick grasp of socks and jacket, and he double checks his wallet and phone are still there, and knowing he has his belongings, he soundlessly slips out the door.
Only a week left before Christmas break. Only a week where things might be slightly awkward between the two of them. Only a week to figure out what the hell heâs supposed to do now.
This isnât the way it was supposed to happen.
---
Awkwardness is the least of Tomâs worries, apparently.
When he makes it to the classroom before class on Tuesday (and mind you, he hasnât seen Y/N since before they fell asleep Saturday evening), heâs met with the pleasurable yet very frightening bright smile Y/N sends him.
âHey,â she says, eyes lighting up with a passion Tom hasnât ever seen before. âWe havenât talked that much lately, but I thought we had some time now.â She hands him a paper. âI wanted to talk about the upcoming exam, and how to best prepare them to get the best possible grades.â
Tom takes the paper she hands, and sees a list of suggestions. The title reads Tips To Get The Best Exam Results. He nods slightly. âSure, sounds good.â His voice sounds weird to his ears, lighter than normal. He coughs slightly, and tries again. âDid you have anything specific in mind that we should focus on?â
Nope, still no good.
But if Y/N noticed, she doesnât say anything, the smile still brightly lighting up her face. âJust thought we could go off the list, really. Something I threw together on Sunday. Already had a rough draft, but you know, canât stop working.â She tips her head a little, almost a shrug but not really one.
Heâs tempted to ask her; if he did something wrong. Maybe he shouldnât have left her apartment? Maybe they should talk about it?
Tom looks down to check his watch. Still fifteen minutes until any students are supposed to make an appearance. Thatâs more than enough time to talk about the incident, more than enough, only how does he startâ
âTom?â Y/N waves a hand in front of his face, her own searching for a response.
He shakes his head. âSorry, what?â
âJust asked if there was anything you thought Iâd missed. I want your input.â
Thereâs something so completely foreign to that sentence that Tom freezes. Even if they were making progress with how well they got along, heâd never actually thought sheâd willingly ask for his input. Especially not after he left her apartment after a (great) round of sex and hasnât actually talked to her sinceâas far as he knows, most people donât like that.
However, he has to pull himself out of his head. So he shakes his head (no, he has not read the list) and just gives her a weak smile. âIâm sorry, Iâm not really present today.â
âThatâs okay,â she says, smile back on her face, though more sweet and less bright. Almost bordering on saccharine. âCanât always be present, can we? I bet you had a pretty rough Sunday, too. Might not have had that good a Monday either?â
Tom raises a brow. âRough Sunday? Were you very hungover?â Yes, he avoids the questions. He needs to know if thereâs a possibility she doesnât remember. Of course, that would only make matters worse because he would feel compelled to tell her.
Y/N scrunches her nose a little. âNot that much. I didnât drink a lot, with the exceptions of the shots I took, but honestly, without them Iâd never dared to kiss you either, so⌠kinda thankful.â And as she talks, her demeanor changes. Tom starts to wonder if she wasnât being passive aggressive all this time with her sweet voice and big smile.
âYou⌠uhm.â Tomâs words donât work. Or maybe they donât exist.
âYeah, great night, actually. You know, other than you walking out on me, but I canât blame you.â She shrugs. Thereâs nothing close to hurt in her voice, nothing close to anger either, really.
Tom has to swallow, because he feels like thereâs something more she wants to say and heâs not sure the tug at his heart can take it if she does. Whether thatâs a bold reveal that she does, in fact, not like him, in any way, or if it is that she likes him. But what if she likes him only sexually? Will he indulge?
âYou know?â she says and takes a step closer to him. âWe got about ten minutes. Or more, if we lock the door.â A finger comes up to drag down a little of the shirt he wears, exposing some of his chest. She doesnât say the last words, but Tom can hear them.
His heart beats rapidly in his chest. Her fingers dance with flames as they graze across and trace their way to his chin. A firm hand takes hold of it, steadying his gaze into hers and heâs not sure he can say no when she licks her lips in that way.
God, his pants are tight.
When he lets her tug him down to ghost her lips over his, he knows heâs screwed. Heâs breaking his own heart, breaking the pieces he thought were mending slowly but surely, breaking the trust he put into himself to be strong enough to resist the temptation.
But when Y/Nâs lips graze past and connect with his neck, he canât control the impulse that makes his hands fly to her hips to pull her flush against him. His hands graze the lining of her shirt, and he knows they donât have time for teasing or foreplay or anything Tom really enjoys.
He doesnât care. He gives in, succumbing to the desire that resides deep within him. If the only way Tom can be close to Y/N is by being a fuck buddy, he couldnât care less. At least he gets to be with her.
---
By now, Tom would be home. Heâd be with Bobby, cradling the dog into him to gain the cuddles he so desperately needed but didnât get from the person he most wanted.
Yet, Tom isnât home. Heâs still at the office, slumped down in his too small couch with its too lumpy cushions and too hard armrests. It was the first thing heâd done when he got back after the Creative Writing class. Mostly because he needed time to think, but he canât think because all thatâs on it is how good those ten minutes before class started had been.
God knows he loves foreplay, but God knows they hadnât needed it.
Itâs not like that isnât what he wanted to think about, itâs just that he canât stop thinking about how it felt, instead of thinking about what this means for him. For them. For Y/N: His mind should be travelling through all the consequences of such a relationship. Or his mind shouldnât only be focusing on the positive consequences.
He should focus on how this might rupture the steady going of an actual friendship (with the hopeful something more), but instead he canât stop thinking about the feelings that rushed through him when Y/Nâs lips had press to that spot on his neck. He canât stop thinking about the throbbing in his abdomen, the swirl of hurt and guilt and arousal deep within his gut, the adrenaline that rushed through his body knowing she wanted him.
However, the one thought (thatâs a mixture of positive and negative) he canât let go, is that she avoided kissing him. She avoided pressing her lips to his, despite the obvious passion that had come from it on Saturday. She almost avoided his face entirely (the slight hint of a red mark on his neckâthat one of their students had pointed out over the course of the classâisnât necessarily unwanted).
But that feeling, that deep, deep longing that had accompanied the kiss on Saturday (no matter if it was prompted by alcohol), he missed that. He wanted it. He still wants it. He wants all of it. More than just friends with benefits, more than a casual relationship, more than⌠He isnât even sure exactly what it is they do have.
Maybe they have something that can lead somewhere? Maybe they have something that wonât continue? Maybe they have somethingâ Â
Tomâs train of thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. He scrambles to sit upright on the couch (though he nearly falls off). And, with some sense of dignity still left, he says, âcome in.â
The door opens agonizingly slowly. Tom has a silent wish of it being Y/N wanting something more, but he also has a huge wish itâs Benedict and that he can talk to his best friend about the problem that is eating away at him.
And thank God, his prayers are answered. Benedict fully steps into the room and gives Tom a quick once up. He raises a brow and smirks slightly. âAnd what did I walk in on?â he asks.
âNothing.â Tom shakes his head. âNo, there is something. You have time to talk or did you just come here for a favor?â
Benedict closes the door and sits down in the chair at his side of the desk. He turns it to face Tom and leans back, arms crossed over his chest. âI was coming in here for something else, but you look like you need to talk more. Whatâs going on?â
âItâs Y/N.â
âOf course it is. Did something happen Saturday?â Benedict raises a brow.
Tom nods, slowly. âWe⌠uhh, I donât know how to put this, but⌠we, uhmmâŚâ He takes a deep breath, unsure of how to say the words, unsure of Benedictâs reaction. âWe slept together.â
The manâs eyes go wide, and a frown comes through on his face. âLike in the same bed, or the⌠you know?â
âWe had sex, and then fell asleep afterward. Why would we just sleep in the same bed?â Tom shakes his head at his best friends.
âI donât know. Maybe there was something else.â He shrugs. âBut that canât be everything.â
Tom presses his lips together. He drapes a hand across his face, a sigh accompanying the gesture. âWe did it again. I guess you could call it a âquickyâ. In the classroom. Before our students came in.â
âIs that the reason for the red mark on your neck?â
âYes.â
When Tom looks up to meet Benedictâs gaze, it feels almost like the older man is mocking him. The teasing, and halfway disappointed, look on Benedict's face is tantalizing.
âShe or you initiate?â
âHer. Both times.â
âBut the first she was drunk?â
Tom nods. âShe had a mistletoe in her doorway. I guess it helped when I followed her up to her flat, seeing as she couldnât really walk.â
Benedict chuckles. âAre you going to keep it up?â
A sigh falls from Tomâs lips. âI donât know. Should I?â
âIs it worth it?â
Is it worth it? Is it worth the ache in his heart when she looks at him as if he holds everything she desires but not the part he wants her to desire? Is it worth the stab in his gut when her lips donât connect with his? Is it worth the scorching heat that comes off of her fingers grazing his skin, of her hands studying his chest? Is it worth his heart leaping into his throat because she feels so close yet so far away? Is it worth it, if his heart will only break past redemption in an effort to be close to her even if itâs not in the way he wants?
âI donât know.â Tom shakes his head. âWhat if itâs the only way? What if thatâs my only option to be close to her? What if I lose everything if I stop it?â
Benedict smiles, but whatever is really on his mind, he doesnât say. âTom, be real. Is it worth it?â
He takes a deep breath, unsure of his answer. Unsure until his lips part and the words carry around the room.
âYes.â
permanent tags: Â @devilbat @adefectivedetective @gamillian @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @heartislubbingdubbing @wiczer @chillcan @geeksareunique @fandom-imagines1
Tom tags: Â @inlovewith3 @bookgirlunicorn @mindlesschicca @justawriterinprogress @wolfsmom1 @loser-alert @satanskatze @timetravelingsociopathicwalker
suakm tags:  @plooffairy @just-the-hiddles @jennytwoshoes @lokissidehoe @fruitfly123 @princetale @scorpionchild81 @noplacelikehome77 @winterisakiller @lostsoldieronahill @nonsensicalobsessions @cherrygeek86 @louhpstuff @olyamoriarty @sunshinein17 @kthemarsian @kumikowi @secretcupcakekitty @buckygrantbarnes @josis-teacup @runawaygiirl @januarycalendargirl @funny-fangirl @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpiomindfuck  @dr-kayleigh-dh @inmyworstlies @twhgirl @maah-chan @florencia93c @i-am-a-mes @o-deya @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @cantaloupewatch @carpediem-spero @createdbyanintensenerd @beananacake @lysawayne @nightrose64 @bradfordbantams @feyre-thehighlady @thundermaximoff @lys-syl @beenthroughalot @xrainydazeteaxâ @mautandâ @coldbookwormâ @cursed-moonstone @justanobodyinthisbigworldâ @holyodepiusâ
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POSITIVE 20 QUESTIONS TAG GAME
ily @hopeisthewholepoint i was doing this a while ago and then the draft didnât save so this is about 30 years late by now whopps. ily thanks for tagging me tho. â¤
1. Name 4 fictional characters who showcase your personality the best, with explanations if you want.
My girl Edrisa Tanaka from Prodigal Son bc weâre both socially awkward but at least sheâs unapologetic about it. I want to say I have Sam Wilsonâs humor and I too do what everyone else does just slower. Raymond Holt because I love fluffy bois and Iâm down to fight anyone who says anything bad about my pets. Ben Wyatt because weâre both human disasters and I like making dumb stuff when Iâm bored. Â
2. Aesthetic
Playing pool terribly with friends, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, colorful rain jackets. Balloons, music playing from car radios, collecting movie ticket stubs. Painted nails, open windows, and fish stamps on postcards. The smell of fresh basil.
3. Favorite musical/play? (If youâve never seen a musical or play, one youâd be interested in seeing?)
Come from Away. Hands down. Though I will say I saw recordings of the National Theaterâs Frankensteins recently and both are very good but the Miller-as-the-creature version is especially good.
4. What is the best compliment youâve ever received?
Okay this is a bit of an unfair question bc I die at any and all compliments. But one that I thought of today /a couple days ago/ a long time ago when i started writing this that made me happy again was when someone I'm in a club with let me borrow his camera to take pictures during a performance. I hadn't taken pictures in a while and I had so much fun and I don't really contribute to the club so I finally felt like I had purpose. It was hard to see how they came out on the camera but the next time I saw him he said they came out really well and someone else said that he's normally picky when it comes to photos but he liked mine so that made me feel even better and it was overall a very nice time. It wasn't even really the compliment (I mean, it still was but) it was also just the gesture to offer a camera when he heard I liked taking pictures. I didn't have my camera with me until after this and it really made me remember how much I liked it. Anyways he graduated and hasn't been in the club since last semester so I never see him but it made me v happy.
5. How many times have you been in love?
Miss me with that romantic love but I fall in love with friends and people and every little thing everyday.
6. Embarrassing story or fact about yourself that makes you laugh now?
Bold of you to assume I've recovered from anything embarrassing ever.
This is a bit of a cheat bc it was always funny but my middle school PE uniforms had words and definitions on the back of the shirts (no i donât know why) and mine said âfinal: adj. last in placeâ or something like that and you know what? it was RIGHT.
7. Favorite Disney/Pixar movie?
Probably Up. Idk I donât really have one.
8. Favorite flower or plant?
Probably triostar plants because theyâre cute and pink.
9. Whatâs your favorite holiday?
Halloween đ! I love the idea that kids are going bonkers and getting candy and having a good time. And I love that it gives not-children people a chance to dress up and have fun and take themselves less seriously for a day.
EDIT: NO ONE TOLD ME I MISSED QUESTIONS 10-14. NO ONE LOOK AT THIS .LOOK AWAY. IM FIXING IT. HOW DID I MISS FIVE WHOLE ENTIRE QUESTIONS. SMH.
10. Name three things that made you laugh or smile this past week.
This meme dee just sent me a minute ago. I had a socially-distant dinner with a couple of my friends whomst I love a lot on Saturday and it was very nice to see their beautiful faces in person again and I love them a lot. Time isnât real I donât know what happened this week. I set up the Xbox again and Iâve played a little little bit of Assassins Creed (which Im very bad at) and Skyrim (which im only a little bad at) and thatâs been fun. Bonus answer of dee, nina, and I have been watching 911: Lone Star together and itâs v v fun.
11. What song would you play to introduce yourself to someone?
That is way too hard of a question to definitively answer. My music taste varies so wildly and my favorite song is usually the one I've obsessively listened to the last. Using that logic: Bang! by AJR or Wake Me by Bleachers. Or Chris Martinâs cover of Shelter from the Storm by Bob Dylan. Yeah. The last one.
12. Name something that truly makes you feel peaceful even at your most stressed moments.
Being a passenger in a car with music playing though that doesnât really happen when Iâm stressed. I wouldnât say peaceful because when Iâm not good at that when Iâm stressed and most of the time when Iâm stressed I have too much stress inside of me so I would rather get it out than be peaceful. So I just put earbuds in and listen to music too loudly so I donât have to hear anything around me and I can just sort of release all pent up energy with the music and calm down.
13. What do you, did you, or would you study at college?
Iâm studying film! Iâm technically undeclared but Iâm hoping to declare soon. :-). Yes Iâm going to be unemployed and leech off of dee for the rest of our lives thanks for asking.
14. This is kind of a weird one, but which outfit of yours makes you feel most like yourself?
Um. Definitely sneakers (by default my white ones because I only have one pair) because I like being able to Move. Same reason for my black pants bc theyâre not restricting at all and comfy. And then probably my gray sweatshirt which dee will murder me for saying bc it means I have zero (0) colors in my outfit but it comfy. I like having colors but I feel more comfortable in more neutral colors.
15. What is a quote you live by?
Oof oof I donât know. I think there are a lot of quotes I want to live by and then I forget about them so if I am living by a specific quote, itâs not consciously. I reblog a lot I like to my words tag or text tag, and this one:
 ââDo you fall in love often?â Yes often. With a view, with a book, with a dog, a cat, with numbers, with friends, with complete strangers, with nothing at all.â (Jeanette Winterson)
explains me very well. I donât know that itâs something I live by because itâs just a state of my existence but it me.
16. Name the funniest playlist name you have.
I wish I had funnier playlist names. One of them is living room couch alone for a very specific mood when it's after 10 o'clock and everyone else is asleep and I'm in the living room alone on the couch and I'm not tired and time doesn't feel real. It's a good mood. I also have one called new york times which isn't funny I just like it.
17. Make a reference to an inside joke you have with someone you love with zero context.
âyou know why we do this?" *snap with one hand*Â "because we canât always get our arms free to do thisâ *dramatic arching snap with both hands*Â
But that oneâs not with dee ( @mrrmiracle ) so give me one sec to think of something else too. Ok here we go:Â
"that Andrew Garfield movie"
18. What is a message you would give your younger self if given the chance?
Stop overthinking and start doing. You canât sit at home sad your friends arenât hanging out with you if you never ask them to hang out. Initiate things. Its not as scary as it seems. Also for the love of all things holy please form good habits now. Form all the good habits I have none and Iâm tired.
19. Who is your favorite family member? (If you have no good blood family members, feel free to mention someone in your found family)
um my cats :// im just kidding itâs @mrrmiracle obviously.
20. Whatâs a secret dream of yours?
Um lol to not be alone. To be employed doing something I enjoy and make enough money to support myself. If I put lol will this sound less sad.
Iâm tagging @mrrmiracle, @grayson-dick @valleydean and @daredeviil and if anyone else wants to do it just say i tagged you and iâll edit it to include you đ. i just get anxious tagging people bc i donât want to annoy people and i never know who wants to be tagged or not.
#thanks for tagging me!!#ilu nina#tag game#you dont have to do it if i tag you obviously i just didn't know who to tag#uhh lemme know if you do or dont like being tagged and i'll continue or stop tagging you#not fandom
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Chapter One: The Interview
At long last, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a very rough draft of the first chapter of (Im)Mortal! I hope you enjoy~
p.s I promise it looks better in docsđđ¤Śđ˝ââď¸
@orchidalienscribbler @alexprompts @rhikasa @morganwriteblr @stephrawlingwrites @wiseauthorowl @givethispromptatry
    Mallory and I were over my cousin Cassidyâs house one weekend, working on a project that neither of us like and only Cassidy had experience with. We were in Casâ room when Mallory shot up from Casâ bed and looked at me with a huge grin on her face. âHey bruh, letâs do something while we wait on Chef.â
The smile on her face told me that whatever she was planning had to be worth getting into trouble. âWhat is it my bold and bored friend?â
âLet me interview you.â
âSeriously? Right now?â
âYeahp. Just tell me your life storyâŚokay maybe not, like, yo whole life but the um...most eventful? Yeah weâll go with that.â
I shook my head and laughed. âWooow, okay then. Should I include Skyla or nah?â
âWas the meeting eventful?â
âI found her in the woods. She liked me. I liked her. Then she became my precious baby lamb.â
âSave it for our next interview. Itâll be our pet edition.â
âAlright, cool. Ssoooo...how am I starting this off?â
Mallory rolled her eyes and tossed one of Casâ pillows at me. âWitcha name ya dumb duck!â
âRruuuuuude. ...But what about her?â
She sat quietly on the bed, thinking about the question. âUmmm...I donât know? Just roll with it I guess?â She took her phone out and started recording me as I fidgeted around on the floor messing with our dying project.
âOkay then, here goes nothing.â I took a deep breath to relax myself. âNow, this is a story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down and Iâd like to take a minute, just sit right there, Iâll tell you how I became the demon of a town called Easthaven.â
âOkay, Will, letâs get it then!â She said laughing.
My name is Helouise. I was born with clay-red skin, eyes the color of golden topazes, and raven black hair. Iâve been told a few times that âHelouiseâ wasnât supposed to be my name, but âELouiseâ instead to kinda match my momâs name âEllenâ. So whoever wrote my name on my birth certificate misheard her completely. Lucky for them I had a great grandmother with that name. So my whole name is âHelouise Nevaeh Piercemenâ, which I think is kinda amusing. My middle name, âNevaehâ, is âHeavenâ spelled backwards.
        Growing up I was known as the âProblem Childâ, as most other parents called me. I honestly was a hot-headed little girl. Whenever I would throw a tantrum, my parents would often give me âsoothing potionsâ calm me down. To some parentsâ disbelief, I wasnât as spoiled as they thought I mightâve been. My parents raised me just as like any other parents would raise their own children (just a little bit overprotective), but I didnât feel as if they actually loved me all the time. So I would call them âMotherâ and âFatherâ to irritate them often. It didnât bother them much as I had hoped though, they just laughed it off.
âPfft, but why would you do that?â Mallory asked through her giggles.
âBruh I donât know! I was an evil lil shit I guess.â I said laughing with her.
        When I first started school in fourth grade, all the other kids there just stared or stayed away from me. I could tell that they were afraid of me. I was afraid of them too honestly. I was homeschooled at first, and had never been to a school before until then. Someone had talked my parents into thinking that I should go out and make friends, prove to people that Iâm not as weird or awkward as they thought I was. So, I was just as scared of my classmates as they were of me. I wasnât wearing my shades back then, so I believe that it was mostly the color of my eyes that either scared people away or was the reason I got bullied a lot. No one stood up for me except my new teacher Ms. Wrangler. The old one mysteriously disappeared one day and she was there the next day. She was always there to comfort and protect me from the other kids, she was the nicest person to me in to whole school. She had always made me feel special at the end of the day, telling me that I had nothing to worry about as long as I stayed with her. On days when I didnât eat in the cafeteria, she would go out and buy me food to eat and weâd eat in the classroom together. She would even buy me things âjust becauseâ, and told me not to tell anyone. I really liked her, I felt more love from her than I did either of my parents, so I did what I was told. Then one day she told me that she wanted to take me somewhere special and that I would need permission from my parents to go. So, she handed me a slip saying that the class was going to the local science museum.
On the day of the âfield tripâ, we didnât go to the science museum. She took me to a park outside of town and said that we were going on a nature walk. Whenever she looked at me, I thought it was funny that her eyes had changed from their normal bright blue color to red, but I was young and didnât know better. Later that evening she said that today was going to be my last day with her. I didnât understand what she meant and couldnât ask, somehow I had blacked out after that. All I remember after that is waking up in my dadâs car, being held tightly by my mom with her crying âI wonâtâŚnot againâ, then I went back to sleep. We moved from our first home later that week with the help of my uncle. I tried asking them what happened to my teacher, but all they would say was âWeâll explain it when youâre olderâ.
After being homeschooled again for a few years, and after being told some strict rules and to never take off my shades for anyone, I was allowed back into school. I was in high school by then, and I was lucky enough to make a few friends, even though others continued to stare and judge me whenever they thought I wasnât around or couldnât hear them, but I didnât care as much as I did when I was little. So I thought things were finally looking up for me. Then again, what would high school be without a few surprises?
        One day while I was in biology class, I was called into the office and was told that my dad was coming to pick me up. Since it was close to Christmas break, I thought we were taking an early vacation, but as soon as my dad got there and we made it to the hospital, all thoughts of any vacations were gone. For fourteen years, Iâve been alone and gotten used to being an only child, then my parents decided to go and add a new kid in the mix. I was never fond of the thought of having a sibling, let alone a sister, and this one caught me by surprise. I never noticed mamaâs stomach getting big (even though she was a âstay at home momâ) and they never told me. They said that they wanted to surprise everyone. When I first saw the baby, she had deep blue eyes and rosy cheeks, and small tufts of hair that looked so shiny at the time they thought it was golden. She was such a beautiful babyâŚI didnât like her. I hated how normal and happy she looked. Then they told me her name. They named her Rose.
A beautiful name for a baby girl. Was I so ugly when I was born that my parents let me have an ugly name? I thought to myself. Is she even that pretty to deserve a name like that?
I was so angry that I started to hate Rose. She looked normal and they gave her a normal name, and the way that they were looking at her, with so much love and affection, made me hate her even more. Mama tried giving Rose to me, but I didnât take her. I was too angry. Then my dad rushed over to me, held me close while brushing my hair back, and told me to calm down before I set off the alarms. I pushed him away and ran out the room, I ran into the nearest bathroom I could find and curled up in the corner of it and cried. I cried from the anger and from the feeling that my parents werenât happy with me, let alone loved me. A moment later, my dad opened the door and peeped in. When he saw me, he came and hugged me, saying things like âWe still love youâ and âWe thought youâd be happy to have a little sister or brotherâ and other things that I barely heard. Once I stopped crying, I noticed a burned hole on his jacket and asked how that happened. He laughed and said his stupid cigarette lighter button had been pressed earlier when he wasnât paying attention. Daddy was a frequent smoker, so I believed him. He brought me back into mamaâs freezing room. I still didnât want to hold Rose, but I was curious about her cheeks. So I asked mama if I could touch them, and she said yes. I placed a finger on one of her cheeks and jumped back a little as she laughed at me. Roseâs cheeks were ice cold. She said that it was just the room, but it didnât matter. I still didnât like her, and I had already made up my mind that I wouldnât have anything to do with her (as less as possible anyway).
The next surprise, which Iâd like to call âThe Train Wreckâ, happened almost immediately after I turned sixteen a few months ago. The first thing was that Roseâs hair wasnât blonde after all, but instead it was white like our dadâs hair. I figured that it was some genetic mutation like the color of me and Mamaâs eyes. Another thing was that I actually kind of liked the idea of having a sister and I kinda liked her, even though she was a brat at times. The last thing happened one day after school. My parents, Rose, and I were meditating in the basement (well Rose was half-asleep holding her new, blueberry scented teddy bear). I was really thinking about the ugly sofa that Mama had bought last week. For the first time ever, I had a few friends coming over to study and hang out in a few days, and the first thing they would see when they came in would be that disgusting, over brightly dyed hippie couch. My parents needed a new couch, but couldnât really afford one after they had redecorated Roseâs room. I knew and understood that, but the couch was so damn hideous that the neighborhood cat my parents like to let in every so often wouldnât even piss on it.
There has to be a way to talk them into getting new couch! Iâll be embarrassed for life if my friends saw that hideous thing. They need to get rid of it! Uugh, I hate that stupid looking couch!
If you hate the couch as much as you say you do, then do something about it. I jolted my head up and scanned the room, but no one else was there other than my folks, so I thought that I was just imagining things. Youâre not imagining it, Iâm theâŚâotherâ you, Iâve just woken up from a peaceful sleep. If you hate the couch then get rid of it.
What do you mean âthe other meâ? And just how am I gonna to get rid of it?
Havenât you figured it out yet? The reason why you look the way you do. Donât you think you were destined to do something great in your life? Iâm theâŚâspecialâ side of you. An active subconscious, if you like. Weâre a special girl Helouise. Did you know that we can manipulate fire?
âI can do what?!â I blurted out. Mom and Dad looked at me with startled faces and Rose fell over backwards. I quickly apologized and went back to trying to meditate.
The subconscious giggled. Of course we can, all you have to do is concentrate on the couch, speed up the molecules, and imagine it bursting into flames⌠or something along the lines like that at least.
I donât think thatâs a good idea. I mean, what if instead of burning the couch I, and I hope it doesnât happen, burn down the house?
What do you have to lose? Our parents got the extended warranty or whatever on it anyway and if something does happen to it, they have the money to get a new one! You could even convince them to get something better than that. And what if the house burns down? Itâll be even better since youâll be able to get a better house than this dump weâre in now. Besides, no one will get hurt in the process, weâre not that strong yet, promise~
I thought it over on what she said and decided to give it a shot. If sheâs right then no one will get hurt and weâll be getting a new couch. I wished that I was going crazy, but I hated the couch so much that I started imagining myself setting fire to it. Itâd be a win-win for me if everything went ok. Minutes later, the smoke alarm went off. We rushed upstairs into the living room and saw that the sofa was on fire. Daddy rushed to get the fire extinguisher in the kitchen while Mama set Rose down and ran to the hallway to try and activate the sprinklers and yelled for me to watch Rose who was already stumbling towards the blazing couch. I, on the other hand, stood there watching in amazement.
See?! You did it! Donât try to stop it now, just let the couch burn!
I canât just let it burn! Iâm gonna try to stop it now, itâs burned enough anyway. And besides, Rose will get hurt if she gets to close. I thought after I yanked Rose away from the couch and set her beside me.
Then let her burn too. You never liked her anyway; sheâs nothing but a pest. Remember, sheâs the one that replaced you and took what little love your parents had for you. Itâll be all over quickly if you push her into the fire. Just push her towards it and hold her there. Sheâll be the only one being burned if thatâs what youâre worried about. Havenât you realized yet that temperature doesnât affect you? So if you touch it, you wonât get burned genius.
Are you insane?! It doesnât matter if I like the little brat or not, sheâs my sister! I canât kill her, Mama and Daddy would kill me if I did!
ONLY because you killed what was precious to them! Think about it: they donât love you anymore, they donât care about you, and you know it. Thatâs why they replaced you. âŚLook at you, if you really couldnât kill her like you said, then why are you slowly pushing her towards the fire?
I looked down to see that Rose was only inches away from the fire again, but it was me pushing her towards it. âRose you little idiot!â I yanked her back again and took several steps back from the couch.
Why donât you just go ahead and do it? You were almost there; she couldâve been dead by now! You canât deny the fact that you want to kill her.
âShut up and leave me alone!â I said loudly. Okay Helouise, just take some deep breaths, and concentrate on the fireâŚand donât touch Rose. I concentrated on the fire on the sofa, and imagined the flames getting smaller. Then Mama and Daddy finally came back just in time to see that I was already making the fire go away. They stood there with a worried look for a moment, and then asked me calmly if I was the one who put the fire out.
âYes, but I caused it too. The thing is I donât know exactly how I did it, I justâ -Maybe I shouldnât tell them about the voiceâŚmaybe Iâm just going insane- âI just thought about burning the sofa like the voice said at first and then making the fire small. But why did this have to happen in my junior year, just when everyone was thinking I was normal, just when they finally accepted me? Why am I hearing this cynical voice inside me head?!â I cried while looking at them. They told me that they knew I was going to have my powers fully awakened, just didnât know when. Then they told me that I had fire-powers since I was young and that I just couldnât remember them. Then I showed signs of it when I was about three and threw terrible tantrums. Then I remember the day that Rose was born, when Daddy was telling me about the alarms and came into the bathroom with the hole on his jacket, and then I became angry.
âSo that day when Rose was born, tell me Father, what did you mean about the alarms? And what really happened to your jacket?â I asked looking directly at him. His face went from a calm expression to a shocked one as he mumble something about my eyes. âI didnât ask about my eyes, tell me what really happened the day that Rose was born!â I yelled. He told me that when I was upset, my hair was slowly turning into flames and I was standing by some posters that were right under the smoke detector. Then he told me that when I pushed him away, I burned a hole through his jacket and almost his shirt. Then Mama started speaking, but I couldnât hear her, my mind was too busy processing what I just heard. They lied to me, thatâs why they kept giving me those potions when I was younger; they knew something was wrong about me from the very beginning! Iâm just a weird accident to them; they never loved me enough to tell me the truth.
To be honest, they probably never really loved you at all. Why else do you think they had her Helouise? Donât you remember how they were looking at her and how pretty she was?
I remembered how they were looking at Rose in that hospital room and became infuriated. Thatâs why they had another child, they never loved me, they probably never even wanted me in the first place, they wanted a normal, beautiful girl! Another little girl that they could truly love! I felt Rose trying to give me her teddy bear, but I was too angry and knocked it away from her and she began to cry.
âHelouise, look what youâve done!â Mama called out rushing past me.
âSo what if the stupid bear is burning?!â I cried wiping the tears from my face. âYou two lied to me almost all my life and then tried to replace me with that stupid brat! And now all you care about is some stupid bear and-â I looked behind myself to point at Rose, but I stopped as mama rushed past me again with Rose in her arms, holding and kissing on her hand. I noticed a small burn mark on Roseâs wrist as she did. I just burned my sister. âOh my god, Iâm sorry! It was an accident, I swear!â I canât believe I burned my little sister.
It felt good, didnât it Helouise?
What did?
Setting things on fire, and of course, burning your sister. Feel a little proud of yourself, donâtcha?
âŚJust leave me alone.
I knew youâd enjoy that. You canât hide it from me.
Will just go away already?!
Just think of how great youâd feel if you would just kill the lil brat already! Itâd be fun, youâd-âŚwait a minuteâŚdo you smell that Helouise? It smells like weâre not the only one with magic in here. Helouise, we gotta have that power.
Suddenly my dad came up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder. âDonât touch me!â I yelled, bumping into the hanging fern and causing it to burn too. Then I moved away from him and the fern.
Thatâs it! Thatâs where the power is coming from! You can take his power for yourself if you touch him. Drain his power. Thatâs all it takes.
I do want that power. Why havenât I noticed it before?
You never noticed because he knows how to conceal his power, and you couldnât sense it, you didnât know how to sense other people's magic. But now that Iâm awake, we can sense other peeps magic a little!. All you have to do to get their power is drain it from them.
âŚI really do want that power; it smells sooo good. Whatever it is, I need that power.
Then drain him. I reached for my dadâs hand pretending to want to hold it for comfort. Kill Daddy for his magic. I drew my hand back quickly before grabbing his hand. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
ARE YOU CRAZY?! âDad get away from me!â
 JUST KILL HIM!!Â
âI canât kill my Dad!â As bad as I wanted his power, I couldnât do it. I wouldnât kill my own dad. He told me to calm down but I couldnât. âDaddy, I just made our couch and our fern get on fire, and I burned my little sister and her bear! I canât calm down! And look,â I pointed frantically towards the couch and the fern. âThe couch is burning again and the fern is still on fire! I canât control them!â I said panicking. He stepped towards me again with his hands out saying that everything was going to be ok.
Heâs practically giving you his hands, just take them and kill him!!
âNO!!â
His power could be ours and we could be stronger!
âDaddy get back! I know you have powers I can smell it and the voice is trying to make me kill you for it and Iâm trying not to so please just stay back!â We looked at the smoke alarm that finally went off and the built-in sprinklers turned on, but when I looked at the flames on the couch, nothing happened to the flames.
Quick! Do it now while heâs distracted!
âWILL YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!â I shouted out flailing my hand out, pushing nothing away, and letting a fireball fly out of my once empty hands onto the faded blue curtains. Still the water from the sprinklers couldnât make the fire die out. âSee?! Even the water canât put it out! What if the fire spread? Whatâs going to happen if the firefighters come and they canât put it out? What if-â Then he swiftly approached me again and grabbed my shoulders, and an immense chill overcame me that caused my knees to buckle. Then he told me to calm down again, only more sternly. He told me that they know it was an accident. It was their fault for not telling me about my magic sooner. He let me go and told me to look back at the couch. I looked at the smoldering couch and then turned quickly to see the burnt fern and the burnt curtain. He told me that I could do anything as long as I was calm. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his lighter and tossed it towards the couch. He said that if the firefighters did come, theyâd find that, so I could stop worrying about them trying to find out who did it or what would happen if they stayed to long.
I looked back towards the kitchen where my mom and Rose were coming from and saw she had put some of the homemade healing salve on Roseâs wrist. I looked back to my dad and he told me that everything would be all right, then Mama said that we would start practicing to control my emotions and magic tomorrow.
The next day, to make sure that Rose didnât get hurt or learn about our magic âtoo earlyâ, my parents called and told my grandmother, my dadâs mother, what happened and asked if she could keep Rose for a while. She agreed, and she when she came over she smelled the same way as daddy did; just slightly different, but definitely stronger. The same urge came over me to drain her too as she and my dad walked in the house, but mama held on to me, and told me to focus on her scent and to tell her what it smelled like. Then Granny looked over at us with disgust as Daddy showed her to Roseâs room, and to tell her what was going on. I could feel the anger building up as she glared at us, but Mama covered my eyes and nose and told me repeatedly to calm down as she rocked me. A moment after she did that, we could hear Rose crying upstairs. She wasnât willing to leave at first, but soon they convinced her that it was only for a little while, and that she was going to have a lot of fun with our granny. So she left with her, and it was just me and my parents once.
Afterwards, my parents told me the truth. The whole truth. First, they told me about the color of my eyes. Mom said that everyone on her side, including me, had the exact same eyes and that weâre demons, and the voice I heard was actually my inner demon, like an active conscious of sorts, that was implanted, given, or something by our many great grandfather, Guidry. She also said that some demons were born with the natural instinct to kill, to be truly âevilâ, and they were mostly always the âupper levelâ ones, but for us it was different and she couldnât exactly explain why. Daddy said he wasnât a demon, but he wasnât a witch (or warlockâŚwizard, whichever they classify themselves as) either, but he could subdue people with a single touch. They didnât know about Rose yet, and only time would tell if sheâs was going to grow up to be normal or like one of them. Then Mama told me what happened Ms. Wrangler, and why I had to start wearing shades in public. Ms. Wrangler was a demon too. Everyone on mamaâs side of the family were being hunted by other demons. They feared that we would become over powerful or somehow immortal, so they would catch and take us to the Upper Council where weâd either die from enslavement or something else entirely. So for whatever reason Ms. Wrangler had tried to kidnap me for, the end result wasnât going to be good.
When Mama noticed that my scent had gone outside the city, they came after me. They saved me and had to kill Ms. Wrangler and the other demons that was there, and thatâs why we had to move. Then Mama started blaming herself for not going to meet the woman herself when she first came into town.
After that, she helped me to gain control of my new ability and to quiet the voice inside. They had me to train with my power everyday. Soon, I was able to create fires and make them go away at will. The voice was still there, but she didnât talk as much after that.
But still my grandmother didnât bring Rose back. Mama called and asked her why, then I heard her gasp from the kitchen and I went to see what happened. I watched her as she was listening to whatever Granny was saying, and then she finally said that she understood and hung up the phone. Mama never told me what happened, but only said that we could visit her whenever we wanted. I thought that Rose had either gotten really sick or this had somehow became a custody battle. Even though I never really liked the brat at times, it still hurt to hear that Rose wasnât coming home, and it made me feel that with my power being âfully awakenedâ, my granny didnât trust for me to be around her. I regretted being a demon at all that day despite what the voice said otherwise. I saw no point in having this power if it only caused my parents pain and having my sister taken away. I could tell that her not being able to come back home yet had broken their heart. Then I promised myself that when she comes back, I would be the best big sister ever.
        âWow...just wow. Why didnât you tell me all this before?â
I shrugged my shoulders. âI guess I donât like talking about it much.â
âFair enough. Now just a few questions. Just two, I think, if you donât mind maâam?â
âShoot.â
âYou said that your Dadâs power had a scent? Is it just him or what?â
âWell, itâs more of a scent for him and not his magic? Like, I can smell it even when heâs not using it. And no, everyone has their own scent. I think Iâm just now...paying attention to it? I mean, I probably noticed his and Mamaâs scents before but never just...thought about it, if that makes sense?â
âCool. So whatâs my scent?â
âA sweet little cupcake.â I laughed as she groaned. âItâs not chocolate though, friend~â
âThank you Jesus.â She mumbled. âNow, what about Rose? When was the last time you saw her?â
âWe see each other everyday, sometimes Granny would bring her over, or weâd go over there to visit. Sometimes I donât go though, cause I still donât think she likes me.â
âThat sucks. Do you still feel like you want to...you know, take their magic? Or anyone elseâs?â
I shifted around the floor. âNo comment.â
âDamn bruh...savage.â I snorted at her attempt to make things better. âSo, final question! Do you think this is the end of your epic adventure? Has everything finally calmed the fuck down for you?â
âOh my God yes and I hope it stays just like this forever.â
Silly girl, if you believe that then you should really know better. This is just the beginning of our adventure.
#writingforjoy#writeblr#(Im)Mortal#Helouise Pierceman#Mallory O'Neil#alexprompts#alexpromptswipweekly#tumblr needs more formatting options#istfG
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RULES AND GUIDELINES
I know that these rules are long and that there is a lot to remember, but this is for my own comfort and mental health.
If you break a rule, I will message the first and second time with the third being a SOFT BLOCK
Some rules may be amended, but I will post a message on my blog to note the changes.
Thank you for taking the time to read them and I look forward to writing with you.Â
They are under a read more due to length.
GENERAL RULES:
NO GODMODDING/INFOMODDING
MUN=/=MUSE
BLOG PARTICIPATES IN REBLOG KARMA
RACISM, SEXISM, HOMOPHOBIA, TRANSPHOBIA, ANTISEMITISM, ABLEISM, AND THE LIKE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED ON THIS BLOG AND WILL GET YOU BLOCKED.
IF YOU ARE OR SUPPORT MAP (MINOR ATTRACTED PERSON), NAZISM, ALT-RIGHT, WHITE SUPREMATISTS, ANTI-VAX, TRANSMED/TRUSCUM GATEKEEPING; I WILL BLOCK YOU. IT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED ON MY BLOG.
KEEP POLITICS AWAY FROM MY ASKBOX.
I will not tolerate being guilt tripped into getting involved in drama and will report someone for harassment if it continues.
I WILL NOT MAKE NOR WILL I LIKE INBOX CALLS. If I am following you, I do so because I wish to interact and as such there should be no worry of feeling like you are bothering me by sending asks or writing starters.
Volt and Harmonyâs Zone is a mix of most of the available Sonic Lore (Archie/IDW crossing over with the Games) so they will likely recognize a canon character as one from their world, but unless we have had a discussion before hand, the character will not be part of their world.
PERSONAL BLOGS:
I will ask that you refrain from reblogging threads, asks or headcanons.
Reblogging my art is encouraged.
âWILL BE MARKED AS FREE TO REBLOG
I do not RP with Personal Blogs (If you have an RP side blog, please let me know)
I will not follow an RP blog that looks more like a personal blog than an RP blog (This means that you reblog more OOC or Content that has nothing to do with RP than responses to threads).
NOTE ON REBLOG KARMA:
I will block those that use me as a meme source. Once or twice I can ignore, but when itâs a constant reblogging from me when I pulled from the source without any interaction and I will hard block you.
I also would appreciate if others could reblog promos/aesthetic posts from the source as they clutter up my activity feed that I use for tracking replies I owe.
FOLLOWING:
I AM NOT MUTUAL EXCLUSIVE, BUT AM SEMI-SELECTIVE
I will not follow everyone that follows me.
I require that you have A RULES AND ABOUT PAGE to RP with me. NO EXCEPTIONS
I will not follow if you do not trim your posts
I will unfollow:
-If a blog is inactive for more than 3 months, -If OOC posts outnumber IC post, -Excessive Negative/Vent posts, -Untagged NSFW, -Untagged and Untrimmed posts, -Constant shitposts, -Excessive crack.
If you only seemed interested in Shipping without any development, or focus heavily on smut based threads I will not follow you.
TAGGING:
If someone who follows me needs anything specifically tagged, the best way is to send me a private message asking me to do so.
If I am following you, I have read your rules and will try to remember the things that I need to tag for your comfort. I may forget at time, but as above, just send me a private message and I will rectify the situation as soon as I possibly can.
Anything I tag will be done so â______ tw" and place under a read more
âThis includes blood, injury, gore (up to and including heavy gore/ultra violence), death. Which can fall under the NSFW category of topics
PLEASE TAG NEON COLORS AND THE GLOWING RED EYE MEME AS âEYESTRAINâ FOR ME. THEY CAUSE ME TO GET MIGRAINES AND A VISUAL SNOW EFFECT WITH MY EYES.
ASKS AND IMS:
Anon is on for the time being, but will be removed should it be abused.
ANY AND ALL ANON HATE WILL BE REPORTED.
IMs are always open for plotting or talking something over Out Of Character. Discord is available as well. You can find that on my Mun page linked below.
I DONâT RP OVER IMS
If you want to continue an ask as a thread, please make a new post and tag me. I will not respond to reblogged asks to continue.
RP blogs may reblog asks that involve our muses if they wish to save the drabble.
THREADS:
I RESERVE THE RIGHT TO DECLINE AN RP AT ANY POINT.
IF YOU ARE NOT PART OF A THREAD, DO NOT REBLOG IT!
I draft all my owed threads as they come in and reply to them in that order, using my queue. If you have a problem with me using my queue for our threads, it might be best if we donât write with one another.
ââQUEUE RUNS FROM 10AM-6PM EASTERN STANDARD TIME.ââ
If I need to drop a thread, I will send a message
âNote that if a thread has gone unanswered for over a full monthâs time, I will consider it dropped. âIf you would like to continue the thread after that amount of time, message me so we can discuss it.
I would also appreciate if posts would be trimmed.
âIf you are on mobile, let me know and I will trim for you
Please message me if you would like to start a thread.
WRITING STYLE:
I write in MULTIPLE PARAGRAPHS/NOVELLA.
I tend to write 3 or more paragraphs and while I donât expect you to match length with me as I can sometimes write up to 6 or 7 paragraphs, I do expect more than just a one line response.
I do use some formatting (Indentation, italics, bold, html for language translations) and icons.
I have been known to do the occasional crack thread. I DONâT DO THEM OFTEN.
SHIPPING:
I WILL NOT SHIP WITH SOMEONE WHO WILL NOT DISCLOSE THEIR LEGAL AGE. I am in my 30s and am not comfortable shipping at all with minors.
Blog is Multiship; Meaning that all relationships take place in their own verse parallel to the Main Story.
âThe Main Story Line of the blog has Volt as SINGLE. Asks that are sent in that do not specify a ship partner will be answered as such.
I am open to shipping with muses that there is chemistry with, but we must have a fully finished thread before I am willing to discuss anything (or asks turned into finished threads).
âI will not answer asks that are ship based in nature if the muse sending it has not had a full interaction as stated above.
I am also open to the ideas of Poly-Ships as long as BOTH of the other muns agree and there is chemistry between the muses.
When Shipping with me, please remember that Volt and Harmony are a package deal. You canât ship and plan to only ever interact with Volt.
âAnother note is that if Harmony does not get along with your muse, donât expect Volt to not listen to his daughter.
NSFW:
The furthest into suggestive I will go on THIS blog will be heavy make outs and roaming hands.
Anything further must be taken to my SIDE BLOG.
Learn about the Mun: Here!
If you have read my Rules, please send âAnd what have you learned today?â into the askbox for a reply that can be used to turn into a greeting thread.
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Okay, Iâm spilling my guts. Part one: Earlier thoughts from today.
Part 1 bc Tumblr is being an ass, and keeps deleting some paragraphs. Read this part first, then part two. Hereâs a link to that: https://soph-hortn.tumblr.com/post/182982723370/okay-im-spilling-my-guts-part-two-newer
Update before my post: I wrote this in school, and saved it as a draft at 13:30. I just saw the notification right now (16:31), saying a friend of mine, Gomez just posted his thoughts on the witch hunt. Here are mine, even if I've written this hours ago. I have new thoughts, and I think Iâll add them, even if Gomez said most of my thoughts on his post. I donât care if this thing is long (and kinda all over the place) anyway anymore. So, my earlier thoughts can be found below (some newer toughts are showed in bold italics, but Iâll put most of them on another post, since as I said in the title, Tumblr keeps deleting some paragraphs):
So there's this whole drama about creating 18+ content of twdg characters, and I know about it, as well as the rest of us. I'm going to share my thoughts, because I can't get over some recent stuff. If you don't agree with me, there's a block button. Use that instead of hiding behind the "ask anonymously" button. Disclaimer: This is going to be a long ass post.
So there is this whole drama going on about twdg smut, and a lot of people don't like it. I don't, either. But I, for one don't harrass content creators about what they are doing. I don't read the stories that are marked as smut. I mean, if you see something you don't like, you continue scrolling. Well, that's how it should work, but it doesn't. And that makes me real fucking mad.
It makes me mad that some people are so hot-headed they make hateful posts about other people, or they sneak in their asks and harass them, call them out, etc. and donât listen to people who have different opinions.
It's not how we should treat each other. We're a fandom for a reason: Having the same interest in the game. If someone writes/draws smut, ignore them, block them, unfollow them, whatever, just don't treat them like shit bc they don't exactly like what you like.What makes me mad is that a friend of mine, Psych-kitten was asked countless times to make nsfw stories, and when she didn't, the asks didn't like her for it, but now that she thought about it all and wrote a story of that kind, some people want to treat her like people treated witches 600 years ago.
What makes me especially mad however is not this whole drama. It's what happened because of it. Someone - I don't know who, and honestly, I don't want to know - shared a glimpse of Psych and Gomez talking about this whole thing in our Discord server. Those 2 sentences, out of context, can be really misunderstandable. Some people falsly accused Gomez of writing smut too, and when friends started defending the two, they got hated on as well.This is how people should work? Hate on each other because someone has a different preference? There are 7 billion people on Earth, if everyone started fighting because they had differing thoughts, a never ending war would unleash. Do you want that? I don't think I want that.
Yes I know, Psych publishing a lemon book on Wattpad not so long after leaving this site mislead a lot of people into thinking she left Tumblr so she can't be called out, but it wasn't the damn reason. From what I remember, the reason was that she was already pretty inactive on this site, and she had other things to worry about than Tumblr. The game's ending soon anyway, and the fandom will die out. It's inevitable. Her reason for leaving wasn't the book. Haters should know that.
But breaching privacy of a group chat to try and prove a point? It's pretty goddamn stupid, and it has to be against some law too, if I'm right. If youâre reading this, I hope you're ashamed of what you did, unknown peep from the group. I really damn hope you do.
I also know that this whole drama started with 18+ fanarts, but since I only know the more recent things about that, it's the only part I can talk about. I know Hjoe and Moni created nsfw art, but they respect people, and didn't share the art publicly, they shared them to people who asked to see it. Why bother calling them out, if they didnât bash their work in your face? I just donât understand. Hunting people down with invisible pitchforks and torches called words is.. I dunno, evil?
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The Folly of Alchemists part 1
A/N:The Folly of Alchemists is an idea Iâve been sitting on for a while now, the setting is a steampunk victorian era, machines and science are just started to become a normal part of every day life, but theres still some traditional victorian factors. think if bioshock and bloodborne had a baby. the story jumps from character to character, the main three being Moira, Angela and Gabriel. more will be explained in part 2, i just wanted to throw an intro out there.
Moira OâDeorain
Iâve always been a woman of the sciences. Iâve prided myself in my accomplishments, particularly in the medical field, but I could hardly wrap my head around the machines that have so quickly become a part of day to day life. But Angela, sweet Angela, with her honey blonde hair, she knew such things better than I. She's created magnificent tools to heal people, written medical texts used by almost every scientist in modern day. She was going to save the world, I just knew it. And Iâve vowed to myself that I will help her. Though my sciences mostly involved poking around corpses, researching disease, and studying the way the human body functions and evolves, I would give all I could to help Angela.
âMoira!â The sweetness of her voice caught me completely off guard, especially while she was so high in my thoughts. I tried to hold back the rising blush in my ears, I felt embarrassed, like she could read my mind. Like she could tell how I was thinking of her.
âAh, Angela! What brings you here? My office isn't exactly the coziest of places for conversation.â I say, gesturing to the body on the table. A murder victim, he was thirty five years of age. Something had drove his wife mad and she turned a knife on him. I was struggling to figure out just how many times she had stabbed him, his stomach was nothing more than mangled gore. The woman was now under Angelas care, the woman was showing symptoms unlike anything we've ever seen, she had also said something about wanting to try to fix her mental state. Yet another field she was good at, getting into the heads of others.
My thoughts had wondered again until Angela snapped me back to focus with a gentle hand on my shoulder. âAre you alright, dear?â she asked pressing the back of her hand to my head. She had to stand on her toes to get a better look at my face. How cute. âIâm fine,â I hushed her, taking her hand in mine âMy head is just in the clouds today.â I smile. I felt her hands on my chest and she leaned up closer to my face, pinning me between her and the table. âAnd where in those clouds might that brilliant mind be drifting to?â the softness of her voice matched her perfume, and I felt the tips of my ears begin to heat. âDarling, we are being watched.â I broke the mood, again gesturing to the body on the table that I hadn't had the second to cover since Angela stepped in. She was one for teasing me, but she was never so bold. She stared at the corpse for what felt like moments too long, before stepping away from me with a shaky laugh. Her face twisted in discomfort as I pulled the sheet over the body. I knew she was thinking of the man's wife. I knew she wasn't getting any better. And I knew how much that ate her up.
âHow is-?â I began before she shook her head. âSheâs dead.â she said with a heavy breath. I could feel my anxieties stir, this was going to eat at her for a long time. I put my arms on her shoulders and she leaned into my chest, I could feel her fighting back a sob. This also explained the rather bold move of pinning me between her and the table. She wanted to take her mind off of it. âCan we go home now? It's nearly midnight.â she choked, voice muffled against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. âGoodness, so late? You must be spent.â She gripped onto my shirt till I pulled away to fetch my coat.
âNo cane today?â She asked, softly taking my hand after sliding my gloves on. âNot today, I feel well enough to walk on my own.â I said.
While locking up my office, Angela walked over to my horse Shadow, speaking softly to him, scratching his nose. She was always so gentle with living things, animals seemed to flock to her.
I knew she wasn't particularly fond of my form of transportation, minus Shadow. Having a carriage used to carry the dead to and from my office made for an uncomfortable, grim ride, but the fatigue weighed heavy enough in her eyes that she seemed unbothered.
The ride was very quiet, and I knew better then to push her to speak about whatever events were eating at her. At her own pace she would eventually talk about it, and that was fine with me. As we came to the turn towards her home, she clung to me. âCan I stay with you tonight?â she mumbled. I sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. âYouâve no clothes with you for tomorrow, and youâre helpers will surely worry for you.â I wanted to give her more reasons but I could think of none, and her grumbling against my arm made it clear she was glued to the seat if it meant going anywhere without me. Not that I minded her staying with me, not that she hasn't before, but it always manages to catch me off guard when she does thing like this. Shadow grew restless, and so I jerked the reigns towards my home. I could feel her jerk awake every now and then for the rest of the ride.
It was a pleasant surprise to see Gabriel when I walked in carrying Angela. From the open cabinet and redness in his cheeks, I could tell he had been drinking. It didn't surprise me any, but I had not seen him in months after he vanished without a word. As soon as he noticed Angela, half asleep in my arms he took a step back and gave me space while I brought her to the guest room. Or so I thought till I felt the tug on my sleeve and a heard a muffled grumble. âDo you want to join us for a drink first?â I asked as she peeked one eye open at me. She shook her head and pointed at my room. âYour bed is more comfortable.â she mumbled. I don't know what I expected, Â trying to bring her to the guest room. â... And I don't want to sleep alone tonight.â that caught me off guard. Something worse than she was letting on has happened. I won't push her, I shouldn't. It would only make her upset.
I helped her get comfortable on my bed and tucked her in with that fur blanket she loved. My little black cat, Brimm, wedged himself under her arms purring. Before I left the room the broach on her shirt caught my eye, the silver trim and mysterious blue stone reflecting the candle light. I thought of the day her mother died. Angela was so young, so undeserving of death. I will make sure that day never happens again.
I managed to pull away from Angela to join Gabe for a quick drink. Or what is to hopefully be only one drink. It's been almost a month since I have seen my best friend, especially in such high spirits. The stress had carved permanent wrinkles on his face last I saw him. I know Morrison was hard on him about their military ways, ways I wanted no part of and had no interest in. I knew Gabe was looking to get away from it all, find a girl or guy and travel. We were close like that at one point, but there were things we never quite saw eye to eye on, things too big to ignore. He seems happier being a free spirit, traveling as much as he can, seeing the world from a view other then down the barrel of a gun or dripping with blood. Im perfectly fine being stationary, focused on my work.
His pat on my back just about knocked the wind out of me. He smiled ear to ear, his scars and wrinkles cracking his handsome face. âSo, should I assume any creaking I hear tonight is a ghost causing a ruckus in your room?â he slurred. I choked on my wine and he laughed continuing to poke at me for the way I fancied Angela. I tried to convince myself the heat in my cheeks was just the wine, but after I finished the glass I could kid myself no longer. âEnough Reyes! Now tell me, where have you been off to? What happened to that bright eyed lass who was always at your hip?â I took my turn to tease him, and at least try to find out where he's been. He left without any warning, if it weren't that it was normal for him to do so Iâd be much more relieved to see him. He grunted and slurred something to himself, for a second I thought I heard him mention Morrison. âThe draft caught her. She was an excellent navigator and sailor, so they asked her to join one of the navy ships.â he grunted bringing his glass to his lips. His face held something like regret across it. âIf it weren't that she needed some kind of moneyâŚâ I shifted. This was a very sensitive topic, Gabriel was not a rich man, he came here with nothing. He tried to flee from the war only to get pulled back into it, just on a different side. A side he very much did not have positive feelings towards. I was the one who kept them from throwing him in a cell after they found him a stowaway on a supply ship. I let him stay at my small place, only asking that he kept it clean and watched my cat while I was gone. As we became closer friends I cared less and less about how he spent his own time.
But I know he still had little money. The military pays like shit, but you can only do odd jobs here and there with the time you get away. Part of why he's stuck here is because Morrison is intent on that. My mind drifted once again, darker thoughts then the ones Angela brings. I want the war to end as badly as I want to help Angela, because ending the war means I can help Gabe. What if both sides never stop fighting? Whose blood will it take for the fighting to stop?
Gabe whistled, catching on to my head being elsewhere. He looked concerned before smiling. âIt's late and you look exhausted. Your soul practically leaves your body at times when you're this tired. Go sleep, keep Angela warm.â he said with a wink as he got up and walked towards his own room. I stretched out, took one last big sip of wine before putting out the candles and the fireplace, then trudged off to my room.
I was taken aback walking into my room to see Angela standing there, seemingly wide awake. She stroked the strange blue gem on her broach, before her attention shifted to me. She looked startled to see me and I rubbed my eyes. âOh, Angela, I thought you would still be-â she collapsed without a word, fast asleep again. Now Iâm the one standing here, trying to figure out what just happened. Angela has stayed with me before, and she was no sleep walker.
I was much too intoxicated to try to figure this out right now. I lifted her back into bed, after cursing myself for being a lightweight, and struggling to get ready for bed I crawled in with her. A few minutes later I felt her wrap her arms around me, scooting closer to me. Her skin felt awfully warm, maybe she had a fever? I was too tired to check, and despite my efforts, exhaustion over took me and I fell asleep.
Angela Ziegler
She thinks I can't read her mind. And she's partially right. I can't read her mind, but i can tell when she's thinking of me. Itâs like a strange pull in her direction, followed by a sudden emotion. Anywhere from a flutter in my chest, to something that, admittedly, leaves me squeezing my legs together. Iâm doing my best to ignore it, such a thing reeks too much of witchcraft and brings back bad memories. Frankly Iâve had enough of both for a while.
But as I stirred awake before Moira, I couldn't escape the feeling that she was dreaming of me. I didnt know about what specifically, I could just tell she was. I crawled out of bed, grumbling at the bruises on my legs. I was getting them even here. Every morning I wake up I have more purple spots along my legs. And although I got better sleep here then I have anywhere else in a long while, I still feel as though Iâve been up all night. My legs ached.
I trudged into the kitchen and found Gabriel slumped against the counter preparing coffee, grumbling about having a headache. âWould you like me to help you with that, Gabe?â I nudged him. His face lit up and his warm laugh was comforting to hear after so many weeks. âNo thank you Angela, just had too many glasses of wine with Moira last night. But it's good to know I have my own little doctor looking out for me.â he said. We talked over tea before I heard a knock at the door. Gabe motioned for me to go answer it, gripping his head and groaning at the fast paced knocks ringing through the house. When I opened the door a familiar fast paced scout was smiling brightly before me.
âOh, Lena, what brings you here today?â I asked her before hearing a window slide open. âHey you little prick, what did I tell you about you bringing your dashy arse up to my doorstep!â Moira shouted from a window, her accent suddenly thick. I groaned, the two were about to go at each other again.
âOh, come now Moira, why do you always have to be like this?â Lena beamed, her smile stretching ear to ear. âIs there any reason in particular you even dislike me?â she rocked on her heels. A groan for Moira.
âOh you fucking Brits thinking you can just go wherever you please without asking-â Moira started before Lena cut her off. âMorrison sent me.â Moira grew quiet, and even Lenas smile faded a little. âHe wants to speak with you all,â she stuck her head in the doorway past me and I heard Moira run down the hall ready to chop her head off for daring. âThat means you too, Reyes!â Lena shouted in the kitchen. Gabe leaned around the corner giving Lena a playful, grumpy look. âHow did he even know I was here?â he groaned. Lena stuck her tongue out at him. âThe Amariâs are in town, Ana saw you skulking around the shadows.â she said, pulling her head back just in time to miss a cane swinging at her head. âMoira, please, I am not at work if you crack open her skull I cannot do anything.â I said trying to keep her from escalating things, while also trying to keep my own head on my shoulders. I barely had three sips of my coffee before this all started, it was much too early for me to deal with a cracked skull. I looked at Lena who was making faces at Moira. After a disapproving grumble she stopped. âI'm assuming Morrison is wanting us to see him as soon as possible?â I asked, pushing Moira away from the door. Lena nodded, giving us a few brief details before taking off.
I watched Moira walk back to her room grunting, a limp in her step more visible today. âMoira, I know you donât like Morrison to see it, but please use your cane today.â after a loud groan and some poking from Gabe, she agreed. I grabbed my coffee from the kitchen and joined Moira in her room. I think Iâve calmed down enough to share with her what happened yesterday. I was so tired from it all I wasnât able to stay awake long enough to talk to her about it.
I probably should have knocked. No, I definitely should have knocked. Moira wasnât terribly muscular, but she was lean enough from moving bodies around all day the her abs showed when she flexed. I could hardly move from the doorway at the sight of her top half bare and out while she had her boot up on the bed attempting to tie it. âUh- Iâm sorry!â I backed up only to bump into Gabe. âAm I interrupting something?â he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. âIf I recall, Morrison wants to see us immediately.â Despite the pain in her legs, Moira had her finger in his face in a near instant. âGabe, you better watch yourself or youâll be the next person Iâm carving up in my office.â she said, before she wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me into the room. Gabe gave her a shrug before she slammed the door.
âBusy morning, is it not?â I stuttered out, trying to keep my eyes from drifting in her direction. She grumbled, still trying to tie her boots. Her head was in the clouds again, she seemed distant and focused on something other then her surroundings. I could see the pain it was causing her trying to bend down to tie her laces. âHere, let me help you.â I bent down and tied her laces but when I looked up, her face looked like it was about to crack from worry. She and I are scientists, weâve both contributed a lot to the world in our own ways. For Morrison, a man of war, to ask to speak to us directly? The intentions canât possibly be the best. There's also Gabe and what they might do with him now that heâs back. Her pains in her legs canât be helping her deal with this either.
I could tell I was in her thoughts again, too. I looked up, her mismatched eyes meeting my own. I felt an incredible flutter in my chest, one that made me gasp lightly. âAre you ok?â Moira asked holding my chin up. She looked like she was about to cry, maybe this wasnât the best time to talk about what happened yesterday. Iâll tell her later. The events of the past few hours have clearly pushed her past her limits, she had a lot on her mind, things she had no control over. I know she hated it.
It was easy to misread my intentions, me knelt down on the floor between her legs while she sat on the bed. I only wanted to comfort her, I traced circles and lines on her stomach, feeling her relax beneath me. She took a deep breath. âOkay. Iâm okay.â she got up and we finished getting dressed.
#overwatch#angela ziegler#moira odeorain#moicy#the folly of alchemists#you can tell i reached a point where i was just dead tired#angela is hard to write#moira is so natural for me idk why#gabe and moira are next
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