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danieleansworth · 11 months ago

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Self Para 1

Date: June 7th, 2018 Age: 19 Location: Village of Freyew, Ly’Lor’Ke Description: How Daniel's first relationship ended. The ex: Wenfrin “Wen” Zov (fc: Luke Hemmings, but specifically Luke Hemmings with this general kind of vibe https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/5sos/images/2/29/Such_wow.jpg/revision/latest/smart/width/250/height/250?cb=20150617084933 . Ignore all other Luke Hemmings stuff, I don’t know the guy) Accompanying song: Midnight Rain - Taylor Swift (Midnights)

The gentle snore coming from the head resting on his shoulder told Daniel that he was now the only person watching the film. That was alright. He knew that Wenfrin had only agreed to watch it because it would make him happy; musicals weren’t really his boyfriend’s thing. He also knew that Wen’d had a busy afternoon tending to crops. Daniel’s afternoon had been just as busy with the same, so he knew firsthand how tiring it could be. So he wasn’t really upset, just the tiniest bit disappointed at another date night where it had been his turn to pick the activity, and Wen dozed off during the film he picked - or used it as background for chatting, or to make out to. Not that he could really be upset about any of those, either. He liked talking to his boyfriend, and everything else they got up to together during movies. It would be nice if they could really watch a movie together every once in a while, too, but he didn’t quite know how to ask for that without making it sound like he was unhappy, when he wasn’t. For now though, he reckoned he ought to pause the film so that he could let Wen rest, and watch the rest on his own later. Except that when he paused the film, the snoring stopped and the weight of Wen’s head on his shoulder lifted. Whoops.

“Sorry, did I doze off?” Wen asked as he shifted slightly away from Daniel to stretch his arms, then settled back in again. He glanced at now-paused paused movie, then back to Daniel again. “We can keep watching, if you like.”

Daniel considered his options, then shook his head. “No, that’s alright. It is getting a little late - probably won’t have time to finish it anyway. We can leave it off,” he suggested, trying to push away that little disappointed feeling that came again at Wen looking relieved. He had every right to not want to watch a movie right now, Daniel reminded himself.

“If you’re sure,” Wen answered, tail end of the sentence trailing off into a yawn as he settled back into his boyfriend’s arms, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Sorry I’ve been so tired lately - fieldwork’s been taking a lot out of me.”

“It’s alright, I know how this time of year is,” Daniel allowed, carding his fingers through the leaves atop Wen’s head.

“Still, it’ll be worth it come harvest. I heard the council’s considering doing something extra for the harvest festival this year if the yield’s high. Which it will be,” Wen enthused, appearing to come out of his sleepiness somewhat at the prospect of something exciting.

Daniel felt a small pang at that, the reminder of a time in the not too terribly distant future when life in this little town would go on without him, when Wen would be here without him. “You’ll have to tell me all about it,” he encouraged anyway, reminding himself that he was going to have to get used to missing harvest festivals and a whole lot more than that before too long.

“What d’you mean?” Wen asked, evidently confused - which in turn had Daniel confused.

“Erm - I mean… I’d like to hear about it?” Daniel answered uncertainly, suddenly worried that the issue had been him saying Wen ‘had’ to tell him about it, which was more a figure of speech than anything else. “Sorry, I didn’t mean - it’d be really nice if you felt up to telling me about it, but I s’pose I could always hear about it from someone else?” He didn’t think the harvest festival was a particularly sensitive subject, though. Did that just mean that Wen wasn’t going to want to tell him anything at all, come that time of year? Oh no, was that what Wen meant?

“That isn’t -” Wen cut off, still looking pretty confused. He began again. “What I’m wondering is, why would you need someone to tell you about it? Wouldn’t you be able to just see it for yourself?”

Oh… oh no. Daniel just stared for a moment as the panic rose, unable to make sense of the situation or find the words to talk through it. He hadn’t forgotten to tell Wen that he was planning on leaving town when he came of age, had he? No, that was stupid, he definitely hadn’t forgotten to mention it. He’d known Wen for ages, and he’d been one of the first people he’d told when he’d made up his mind. He’d brought it up since then too of course, plenty of times - though he hadn’t mentioned it much lately, because he’d seen how sad Wen seemed to get when he brought it up. Which was understandable; he wasn’t exactly looking forward to being far away from his boyfriend either. Would they even be boyfriends at that point? They hadn’t talked about it. Oh, no. Was Wen planning on cutting off contact? Is that why he’d been confused about talking about the harvest festival? Wait, no, Wen had literally just said the part he was wondering about was why he would need someone to tell him about it. Which again, didn’t make sense, because Daniel had definitely mentioned his plans of leaving town once he came of age. “Wen… the festival’s weeks after my birthday,” Daniel reminded his boyfriend gently, having come to the conclusion that that was the piece that Wen must have forgotten. That was a little disappointing, but he told himself not to get worked up about it. It was just a day; anyone could forget.

“Right, I know that,” Wen assured him, still looking confused, until – he pulled back, sitting up straight to look at Daniel head on. “Hang on, do you mean to say… are you still planning on – on leaving?”

Daniel hadn’t been expecting that at all. Not the question, and certainly not the hurt expression on Wen’s face as he asked it. “I, well – yes,” Daniel replied hesitantly, still pretty confused. Why wouldn’t he be leaving? It had been a couple months since he’d brought it up, sure. But only because it seemed like it wasn’t something Wen wanted to hear about. “I… I told you I was planning to, didn’t I? And, erm - I never changed my mind and said I wasn’t going to…?”

“But you didn’t mention it when I asked you out,” Wen protested. Perhaps he saw how that failed to clear up the confusion in Daniel’s expression, because he deflated a little, and added in a quieter voice, “I just… I don’t know. I guess when you said yes, I… I just thought you might have decided to stay. For us?”

“I… what…?” It was taking a moment for Daniel to catch up to that train of thought. It did occur to him that he probably should have said something more than that, but his mind was still reeling too much to work out what. He wanted to be a performer, a dancer. That was always what he’d wanted ever since he’d known what that was. It hadn’t taken him much longer to work out that there wasn’t exactly much need for dancers in Freyew - as much as he loved his family and friends, he would have to leave them to live someplace else if he was going to stand a chance of making that dream come true. He’d liked Wen for ages, and yes, it was bittersweet that they had less than a year to be together in the same place, but it had genuinely never occurred to him to put his plans on hold. If he was understanding this right, it seemed the concept had not just occurred to Wen, but had been deemed the most likely outcome. Which… what? He’d already said that though. “Sorry, I just… I like you, a lot. But I can’t - I can’t just stay put because we’re… I can’t stay here for you.” This felt very obvious to Daniel, and yet he felt just terrible as he was saying it. Obvious to him as it was, and as clear as he thought he had made it to Wen that he was leaving town when he came of age, it had clearly been far from obvious to his boyfriend. It was sort of hard to look at Wen now, actually, guilty as he felt for the expression on his boyfriend’s face. But looking down would be even worse, when it was his fault Wen was looking like that - and not saying anything either, Daniel was quick to notice, though he forced himself to be patient and let Wen collect his thoughts.

“... Oh,” was all Wen said after several moments, looking away from Daniel and down at the floor as he spoke.

That… wasn’t a lot for Daniel to go on. What did ‘oh’ mean? He waited several beats longer for Wen to elaborate, trying to keep his panic at bay all the while. “Oh?” he finally repeated, a question in his tone as well as his gaze - as if that would make Wen look at him again, somehow.

Whether the question was what prompted it or not, his boyfriend did look at him again after another moment. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. I mean, where does this leave us?” Wen finally asked.

“Well, my birthday isn’t for months, still,” Daniel answered, slightly confused. It was four months out still - almost five. Not all the time in the world, but enough that he was a little confused why Wen was asking where it left them right now.

“Right, but you’re leaving right after that,” Wen answered, sounding rather stressed. “I just mean - did you think I was going to come with you? That we would be long distance? Were you just planning on dumping me?”

“Erm –” Right, Daniel felt absolutely horrible now. “Erm – I mean. It would be lovely if you wanted to come along, but I wasn’t expecting it. And, erm – sort of the same for long distance,” he admitted, getting progressively quieter as he spoke. “I – I was going to ask you what you wanted to do, but – you never seemed to want to talk about it, so…”

“So you were just going to leave one day without saying anything?” Wen asked. That… didn’t feel like a fair question to Daniel, but the way Wen looked and sounded so distressed as he said it took priority.

“I wasn’t - I mean - I was going to talk about it, I just. I thought you didn’t want to talk about it yet, and… I’m not leaving just yet, so…” Daniel almost said again that his birthday wasn’t for several months, but it didn’t feel like that would help. He wanted to reach out to try and comfort Wen, too, but - based on the way he seemed to be gradually recoiling further even still, that probably wasn’t the way to go. “I thought you just wanted to save it for later, so I was trying to respect that. I didn’t… I didn’t realize you didn’t know it was a conversation that needed to be had at all,” he finished instead, mumbling a little towards the end. “But, erm… we can talk about it now?”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” Wen answered after several painfully long seconds. “You’re leaving, and I’m staying here. And I don’t see how a long distance relationship would work… unless you’re planning on moving back at some point?”

There was a little hope in Wen’s eyes at that last part, it looked like. Daniel hated to snuff it out, and his thoughts raced for something, anything that might make this better. “I’d be back to visit, but… no, I don’t plan on moving back,” he admitted. He wasn’t quite able to look Wen in the eye as he said it, which only made him feel all the worse. He really was a rubbish boyfriend, wasn’t he? He chewed at the edge of his lip.

“Right, then - I suppose I’m not sure what we’re doing,” Wen finally said when he spoke up again, sounding rather defeated.

That got Daniel to look at him again. It was feeling rather hard to breathe suddenly, and Daniel had to remind himself that he very much needed to do that. Even if it sounded like… was Wen breaking up with him? “What… what do you mean?”

“I mean - I’m staying here, and you’re moving away in a few months. What are we…” Wen paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “Why are we together, if you’re just going to leave?”

Breathing normally wasn’t getting any easier. “W-well, I’m here now? And we - I really like you… and you told me you like me too?” Daniel’s answer sounded rather like a question.

“But that’s not enough,” came Wen’s immediate reply. Daniel couldn’t help but flinch back at that. Perhaps Wen decided that had been too harsh, because he sighed - though he still looked rather upset as he continued. “I just mean - yeah, I like you. But if this can’t go anywhere, I don’t… I don’t think it makes sense to keep seeing each other.”

Oh. “Oh,” was all Daniel managed to say, feeling rather small. Sounding rather small too, most likely. He opened his mouth again, though to say what he wasn’t sure. That he was here now, and would be for several months still? Wen already knew that. He closed his mouth again, then opened it. “I, erm - are you breaking up with me?” His vision was starting to blur, he realized - oh no, he couldn’t start crying. Later, certainly, but not while Wen was breaking up with him. He attempted to blink the tears away, but it didn’t work. Why wasn’t it working?

“I don’t want to break up with you. But if you aren’t going to stay, then… yeah, I think I am.”

“Oh.” Oh no, Daniel had already said that. He probably sounded so stupid right now, repeating himself. But he might as well sound stupid, seeing as he was an idiot for leading Wen on. He hadn’t thought that was what he’d been doing, even in the slightest. Part of him still felt compelled to point out that he wasn’t leaving for several months yet, but he pushed that urge back - clearly, it didn’t matter. “I’m - I’m sorry.” Suddenly he could see more clearly, and he realized that was because the tears that had been filling his eyes had spilled over. No, no no no no, he wasn’t supposed to cry right now. He wiped the tears away quickly, as if that would make up for crying in the first place.

“Yeah… me too,” Wen said quietly. Maybe it was Daniel’s imagination, but it looked like his eyes were wetter than usual, too - oh no, he didn’t want to make Wen cry, but - oh, too late. “I’d better get going…” Wen shifted, moving as if to stand up.

Daniel startled at that - he still hadn’t fully processed that Wen was breaking up with him, and he was already leaving? Don’t go. That was what he wanted to say, but - wouldn’t it be terribly selfish of him to ask that? When staying was the one thing he was refusing to give Wen, himself? He tried to take a deep breath, but it ended up being a series of shallow ones instead. “I – okay,” he said instead, barely audible. There was something new in Wen’s expression at that. Fresh disappointment? Had he been hoping Daniel would change his mind and decide that no, he would stick around in Freyew? Then the shift in expression was gone, and Daniel decided he must have imagined it.

Wen stood up. “I’ll… see you around, I guess.”

It seemed like he was lingering a little, so Daniel stood up too. “I, erm - yeah, I can w-walk you out.” Courtesy was running on autopilot, it seemed, even if he was too overwhelmed and upset to make the offer without stammering. Was it even a good thing to offer? Walking Wen to the door just meant they would both see each other crying for longer, and even if he hadn’t bolted for the door immediately, his now-ex was clearly in a hurry to be leaving. He walked with him anyway, though he didn’t get the door - Wen was in such a rush that he had that covered, it seemed. “I – I’m sorry.” There was a part of him that still felt like this wasn’t his fault, that couldn’t understand why Wen would break up with him just like that over something he’d thought he’d communicated months ago. But for the most part, he just felt like a horrible person.

#self para 1 #selfpara1 #theexes

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natblda · 3 years ago

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tw ;; rp abuse

reivcn

@alaskaslayer

@kennedybtvs

@tylerlockwoof

@sunnydalescoobies

i wasn’t going to do this. but i’m doing this. the next time you tell someone i was in love with you and talk shit about me or my muses in any fandom...check yourself. because i still have EVERY SINGLE MESSAGE, EVERY CHAT, EVERY GODDAMN THING BACKED UP AND DOZENS UPON DOZENS OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE LEARNED STRAIGHT FROM YOU HOW TOXIC AND ABUSIVE YOU ARE...ALL ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT THE HELP FROM ME I ASSURE YOU. YOU ARE INTERACTING WITH PEOPLE YOU TALKED SHIT ABOUT, I have all of that documented too, and you are interacting with them under a different alias. the number of messages i have received unprompted from people coming to me about the LIES YOU SPEW OUT, IS A MORE ABSURD NUMBER THAN YOU ARE A PERSON.

YOU are the reason you have NOTHING but your delusions, and NOTHING is keeping me from putting every single message i have on a google document because you are literally a predator to this community. i wasn’t going to do this, i really wasn’t. because the fact of the matter is...for someone who’s so ‘in love with you right’....you mean nothing to me. you DID THAT. not only did you abuse and gaslight me for YEARS, you abused my muse, you slut shamed her for having other verses, you called her a cheater for seeing other people, you threw in my face and her face nearly every goddamn time that luna interacted with anyone else ...that I QUOTE “RAVEN DOESN’T NEED OTHER VERSES JUST LUNA, WHY DOES LUNA NEED MORE THAN RAVEN, WHY IS RAVEN NOT ENOUGH, LUNA IS ENOUGH FOR RAVEN. WHERE IS RAVEN IN THIS REPLY? TELL THE OTHER MUSE RAVEN IS THERE SO THAT THEY KNOW LUNA IS TAKEN.”

like NO. how many times i said...get raven out there, let her explore, let her meet other people? it’s GOOD FOR HER? IT’S GREAT FOR MUSES? and you flipped at ME with that same gaslighting again. RAVEN ONLY WANTS LUNA. IT’S LUNA WHO CLEARLY NEEDS MORE. like honestly. the emotional abuse that you put me through and my muse through, to the point where i almost quit writing her? to the point where luna couldn’t even look at your raven without seeing YOUR NASTY BEHAVIOR BEHIND HER VOICE. and you would say...i cant interact with others bc no one in this fandom likes my raven, they all blocked me. BECAUSE OF YOU. BECAUSE OF YOUR SHIT, AND DON’T WORRY, I HAVE YOUR MESSAGES SAYING THAT IT WAS YOUR FAULT AS A MEANS TO MAKE ME GO ‘awe poor you, you’re just misunderstood. they just know you like i do’. but the truth is? THEY DON’T KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO AND THE WAY EVERY PERSON WHO BLOCKED YOU DOES. POOR ANYONE WHO COMES INTO CONTACT WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE A PREDATOR AND A LEECH IN THE RPC.

I DO NOT BELIEVE IN CALL OUT POSTS. BUT I DO BELIEVE IN SAYING MY PIECE WHEN I HAVE BEEN ISOLATED AND SUBJECTED TO YOU FOR YEARS UPON YEARS. and you have the audacity to talk shit about me saying that I WAS THE ONE WHO DID ALL THE ABOVE MENTIONED THINGS TO YOU? yeah that sounds familiar, bc everyone in the world abuses you, you are a victim of everything. literally everything. the number of times i heard you say “not to be racist but...” and then proceeded to spit something racist out of your white mouth. the number of times you were transphobic, hell...i don’t have to mention that, most people saw that on the dash because you outed yourself with ‘in 2012 people like me could use any fc we wanted with any gender orientation and it was fine so i can still do that!” like..no. i let slide so much that i should NEVER HAVE ALLOWED. I BIT MY TONGUE BC I THOUGHT...maybe she just...needs to be educated on these things, maybe she doesn’t know what she’s saying, maybe it’s just not registering how to be an honest and genuine person. like i get it, people bicker, they have misunderstandings, but at least have the goddamn audacity to be straight forward with it.

i learned today from a few people...that you accused ME of doing these things instantly upon meeting these people, not even knowing them, and you so readily spilled lies about me. and i figured out why...because you don’t have control of me anymore, you don’t control my muse anymore, because i cut the strings and i cut you out and i kept moving forward, i kept going on, happy...without you. interacting with raven’s who ARE RAVEN, NOT YOU and your narrative behind her face and name.

the hours i devoted to you, the hours, days, weeks, months, stating over and over again how I WAS YOUR FRIEND AND NOTHING MORE THAN THAT, AND YOU TRIED COUNTLESS TIMES TO BAIT ME. let’s see if you remember this.

“i told my friends you’re my girlfriend i hope that’s okay.”

and me...going, i mean we’re friends, i am not in the country, but assuming it was an issue with your self-esteem i said...i guess that’s fine but we’re friends, we probably hang out as much as gfs do but we ARE NOT. and then you turned around with...now you’re giving me mixed signals are we girlfriends? LIKE YOU LIED TO YOUR FRIENDS, YOU STRAIGHT UP KNOW WE WEREN’T , hence the ‘i told my friends you’re my girlfriends’ like you KNEW WE WEREN’T, SO YOU ALREADY KNEW THE GODDAMN ANSWER WAS NO, BUT YOUR DELUSIONS LITERALLY DONT GET IT AND SO YOU ATTEMPT TO BAIT. i’m sorry that after 4+ years sitting on skype every day i can not imagine being with someone i watched eat more out of their nose than of actual food. that was just the tip of the iceberg because then we’re going right back into all of the toxic nightmare you put me through, all the shaming you put luna through., and that carried into threads most of the time, luna having to look at raven and feel like a cheater. like you know what, like i said i wasn’t going to do this, but having just met some amazing rpers i am so blessed to be able to write with and hearing the kind of lies you spilled about me and this whole situation.

i’m going to go to the time when luna was single verse, single shipped with your raven, and when she would interact with FRIENDS, she was slapped for it, i was slapped for it. the time when you tried to pimp raven out in the IMs of one of our mutuals and then that mutual came to me and went...look, im not comfortable, my muse isn’t interested, i’m trying to respect the fact that you guys are single shipped but basically rowan is trying to get my muse to have sex with her. and i went...news to me, i thought we were single shipped, but from this day on...it’s best that we are not. because you know what, considering how many times luna had already been shamed for having friends at that point, to find out that you were ACTUALLY DOING what you were shaming luna for doing, when luna wasn’t doing it? pissed me off and completely broke my rp partner trust in you. and you were only pissed because you got caught, bc someone else was a genuine and respectful person enough to tell me about it. after all the shaming you threw at luna and it was YOU breaking the single ship status. NOT ME. and from that day forth i guess you know what they say...faithlessness breeds a guilty conscience.

i DO NOT HAVE TO PROTECT YOU. YOU DO NOT DESERVE PROTECTION FROM ME. A PREDATOR DOES NOT GET TO SIT BY AND SAY...I’M BEING BULLIED. and i know that’s what you’re going to say, i know because you’re a victim of everything and you depend on my silence and me protecting you bc i cared about the muses. BUT I DO NOT HAVE TO PROTECT YOU. YOU DO NOT DESERVE MY SILENCE. I WILL NOT BE SILENT TO PROTECT YOU. I WILL PROTECT MYSELF AND MY FRIENDS AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER BEEN SUBJECTED TO YOU, EVERYONE WHO WILL EVER HAVE THE MISFORTUNE OF BEING SUBJECTED TO YOU, AND WHILE I DO THAT, I WILL BE MAKING THAT GOOGLE DOC.

SO...ROWAN, HIDING UNDER THE ALIAS OF CASS, [ an alias that she used in the past to make it seem like she had backup during an episode of her toxic behavior. yes. she created the alias and a clarke blog and conversed back and forth with herself on the dash so that it looked like she had someone backing her up when she was being passive aggressive on the dash ] she will likely find a dozen other alias to go by. i haven’t had to change mine, i haven’t had to hide, or move blogs, or switch anything just to get people to NOT KNOW WHO I AM, to trick people into interacting with me so that they think i’m someone else. she relied on my silence, she depended on me caring about the ship too much to speak up and defend myself or others, but i am done being silent.

#tw rp abuse #tw toxicity #tw gaslighting #just plain tw in general i am tired of being silent #im not putting this in MAIN tags bc this is FOR YOU #idc if anyone else reads it...it's for YOU #if i hear one more time from someone the kind of lies you've been spewing about me that will change #lose my number and keep my name out of your mouth #im done

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ms-rampage · 4 years ago

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New Dawn: New Horizons Chapter 2 - An Archangel’s Daughter

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Gabriel confronts Lucifer to protect Daenerys from him. Cristina tells her parents about her encounter with Lucifer.

Guest OCs: Thomas Winchester-Smith (FC: Colin Ford), Jeffrey Winchester-Smith (FC: Dylan Everett)

Guest characters: Carmina Rye, Gabriel [Supernatural], Lucifer [Supernatural]. Sam and Dean Winchester [mentioned]

Written by @athenalillystar and myself. Supernatural & Far Cry New Dawn crossover. Hope y'all enjoy! 💗💗

Taglist: @wargames94 @rabbitsoldier @mrsladydiana @vicki-the-sinner

The Winchester kids, and Carmina Rye sitting at Roughneck’s Crag. Laughing, having a great time, and enjoying the Montana night around the bonfire.

Not far from them, Lucifer appears, tracking down Daenerys. Just to see how special this human child is to his brother. He walks through the tall grass, the lights from the hut lightning up the dark mountain, wooded area with dead trees, dirt roads and the loud rock music playing.

Lucifer sees the kids, figuring out which one of them is Daenerys. Clearly it’s not either of the two boys, it's not the tall brunette with the blue streaks because he met, and spoke to her hours earlier.

So it’s either pink, purple hair (Daenerys), glasses (Bianca), or beanie (Carmina).

He listens in on their conversations from 25 feet away, hiding in the darkness. Underneath the water tower. So far he’s able to get their names.

Jeffrey, Thomas, Bianca, Carmina and Daenerys, but still doesn’t know who is who. The small pink, purple haired girl steps away from the others.

“Dae, where you going?!” Cristina asks.

“I’m getting a drink!!” she responds.

“Get me one too!” the elder sibling responds.

“So you’re the one who’s holding my brother back” Lucifer says to himself.

He follows her, while remaining hidden. “Who would’ve known the small pink, purple haired one would be “fathered” by my brother” he tells himself, “It makes sense. She looks like a unicorn threw up on her hair, she looks like she eats a lot of candy, sugar, and yet has a petite figure”.

He watches her go through the cupboards inside the hut. He’s about to approach her, when the sound of wings fluttering stops him.

“What are you doing here?!?” an angry whisper asks. He turns around, and sees a furious Gabriel with his arms crossed.

Lucifer smirks, “I see you’ve been working on your dad face. Keep it up, it looks good” giving him a thumbs up.

His arms still crossed, and still angry, “What are you doing here?!?” he asks again.

“I just wanted to see what was so special about “wittle” Daenerys” he says mockingly.

“Get out of here!” he demands him.

He scoffs, and crosses his arms “No, and if I don’t, what are you gonna do about it?!. With very little powers you have”.

He takes a few steps closer to him. “I’m not gonna need much to take you down Lucifer” Gabriel threatens him. He gives him a mocking look, and chuckles.

“Really? Because I can kill you right now, and little Dany won’t know what happened to her “father”. Does she even know you’re an Archangel?!. Well half Archangel, but more on the human side”.

Not wanting to give his brother the satisfaction on telling him the truth. He continues to stare at him, not saying a word. His lack of response makes Lucifer’s mouth drop open in a dramatic fashion.

His hand covering his mouth, “Oh my dad, she doesn’t know you’re, or were, an Archangel!?!”.

Gabriel looks away for a moment, and back at Lucifer, shaking his head “No. No she doesn’t know, and I don’t want her to know. She doesn’t know I’m not her real father, and Kate wants it that way”.

Lucifer clenches his teeth, squinting his eyes and says mockingly, “It’s never a good thing to lie to your child. Well she’s not your child, so I guess it's okay to lie to her”.

He stares at him once more, telling his older brother in frustration “Lucifer, just leave. I have enough on my plate already”.

He immediately responds back, “And what is that Gabe?!. Not having your powers?. Dad not answering your calls?. Being a human?. It sucks doesn’t it?!?”.

He raises his hand, snapping his fingers, freezing time, and approaches the group of kids. Standing behind Daenerys.

“Lucifer!” Gabriel mutters angrily, marching towards him “Lucifer, get away from them!!”.

He glares at Daenerys in disgust, “What is so special about this small human?!?. I mean this color. It's so bleh” he gags in disgust.

“Lucifer, stay away from them!” he threatens him again.

“But this one!” he points to Cristina, “This one, I like. I spoke to her earlier”.

Gabriel looks at him in confusion, “You spoke to Cristina?!?”.

He nods his head, “Yep. We had a nice little chat. About how dad farted on humanity, tried to wipe them all out. How he spoke to Joseph Seed about the Collapse, and how he played him”.

“She knows you’re!?!” he asks, motioning his hand up, and down “Lucifer?!”.

“Yeah, she freaked out!. I don’t think mommy Paige told her about, our kind” he whispers the last few words.

He follows up, “Which makes sense because your pink headed daughter doesn’t know you’re an Archangel, and pretty much lied to her, her whole life. How old is she? 12? 14? 15?”.

“She’s 16” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“16!” he says “ethusasically”, placing his hands on his cheeks, “Wow, she should be in high school. Talking about boys, getting her nails done, or something like that. I don’t know”.

Still fed up with his brother's antics and already annoyed that he decided to show himself to his human niece, and is threatening his daughter.

“What are you trying to do here?!?” he asks, irritated with his brother's antics.

“Seriously. What is so special about her?” he motions to Daenerys, “What’s so special about Kate Winchester, or the Winchesters in general?!?”, trying to somehow convince his brother.

Gabriel groans in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “Okay, fine. When I cast out of Heaven, and landed here, the only humans I knew were the Winchesters. I didn’t know Kate, and Paige were pregnant. With very little strength, and powers I had, I went to them and their family. I knew they would take me in. Yeah they didn’t really trust me at first, but then I explained to them what was happening in the world. They believed me. Now with Dany, when Kate was pregnant I took care of her, and she gave birth, I took care of the baby. I helped Kate raise her, and that's why she's so important to me. I watched her grow up, and she saw me as her father.”

Lucifer acts touched to what his little brother had said. He says, pretending to be tearful.

“That was just so touching” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. “I can feel my heart growing with happiness”.

Gabriel knows he’s faking it. It’s his thing.

“Yeah sure. You really think I’m gonna believe that crap” he tells him.

Gabriel looks at his temporarily frozen daughter, “Believe me or not, I don’t care. Whether she came from me or not. She’s still my daughter. I helped raise her, and if I have to protect her from you, or any other bag of dicks, I will. My lack of powers won’t stop me from protecting her”.

Lucifer shrugs, lifting his arms up, “Have it your way, but also remember I’m still not done with you”.

He snaps his fingers, disappearing, and unfreezing time. Gabriel quickly teleports back to the compound.

Daenerys looks in the direction where her dad was standing. Thinking she saw him, just merely seconds ago.

“You okay Dae?” Bianca asks her.

She looks around confused, “Yeah, I thought I saw my dad. That was weird” she laughs it off.

They all stay there for another 15 minutes before getting up, heading back to their car, and going home.

***

Back at the compound Gabriel walks through the front door, and a worried Kate approaches him.

“Gabe!! Where have you been?!?” she asks, now relievedly.

He stammers a bit, “I-I uh”. He lets out a sharp exhale, and tells her the truth, “When I went out earlier to contact my dad, Lucifer”.

“Lucifer?!?!” Kate exclaims. It catches Paige, Kenneth, Adrian, Mandy, Mark and Nate's attention, making all of them turn around.

“What about Lucifer?!?” Paige asks from the kitchen.

He continues “Lucifer appeared to me, and he wanted me to go with him”.

“Go with him? Where?” Kate asks.

“He didn’t say. He saw you Kate in one of the windows, and he was like “You live with the Losechesters now?!” and I told him that I am. I told him that I couldn’t go with him because of her”.

“Daenerys?!” she whispers.

Nodding his head, “Yeah, he went to where they were at tonight, and I was able to confront him before she could see him”.

“Oh no, no, no” Kate mutters, shaking her head.

The others, Cody, Martin, Barbara and everyone else hear the commotion and enter the living room.

“He didn’t say anything to her, or he didn’t do anything to them?!?” she asks, about to start panicking.

“No, no he didn’t do anything to them, or to her. But he did mention that he. Talked to Cristina earlier” he hesitates on the last part.

“What?!?!” Paige shouts, getting up from her seat “What did that asshole say to her?!?”.

“He knew she was your kid, and he also wanted to know why Daenerys is so special to me. I told him why, but he didn’t believe me. Which is typical of him".

Exhaling in frustration, “I can’t believe him. I can’t believe he would show himself to her, and all those years. I tried shielding our kids from that life and all that demon crap”.

“Well it doesn’t really help when we have an actual Archangel living with us” Mark informs Paige.

“I know, I know, but none of the kids know he’s an Archangel” she tells them, stress in hervoice.

Gabe sighs “That’s another thing Lucifer mentioned”.

“What?!” Kate asks.

“He asked if Daenerys knew I’m an Archangel, and I told him “that I don’t want her to ever find out about it", and he tried to make me feel guilty for lying to her”.

They all stare at him, he continues “He also asked if she knows that I’m not her real dad”.

Kate looks at the floor in anger, her hands trembling, “I can’t believe him. I expected this from him, but him putting our daughter into it, that's crossing a major fucking line”.

They see headlights, a car pulling into the property, they all turn back and see the kids.

“Okay, let's not say anything to them until we get all of this figured out” Paige tells them.

They all agree, and go do their own thing. The kids enter the house, still talking and laughing.

Gabriel, who is still worried about his brother doing harm to Daenerys, stays quiet about the whole thing until he can figure out a way to get rid of him. Or somehow keep his ass quiet, and prevent him from showing himself to her, and the other kids.

****

Later that night, Cristina is unable to sleep, or prevent her mind from wandering because of Lucifer. She gets up out of bed, goes to her parents room.

Paige and Kenneth look up at her.

“What’s wrong Cri?” Kenneth asks.

A look of worry and confusion on her face, “There’s something I need to tell you both” she says to them.

“What is it?” Paige asks, already knowing what this is about.

She sits at the edge of their bed, “Earlier today when Daenerys, Bianca and I went to scavenge for supplies. When I was alone in one of the houses looking for supplies. A man appeared, and he said his name was Lucifer”.

Paige and Kenneth look at each other, “What did he look like?!” she asks.

“He was tall, had blond hair, blue eyes. Had some facial hair. He was wearing a mustard color, beige jacket, white t-shirt, and dark blue jeans” she explains every detail of him, from what she can remember of the encounter.

Paige sighs, looks down at the floor. “That was indeed Lucifer.”

“He said he knew you, and aunt Kate” Cristina tells them.

Paige nods her head, “Yeah, we have a long history with him. Kate killed Lilith all those years ago, and Kate happens to be Lilith’s true vessel. We thought killing her, for the 2nd time, would prevent Lucifer from rising, and getting out of his cage but it did the exact opposite. It freed Lucifer from his cage. She had me killed, and I died. I spent 20 years in Hell, which is 2 months Earth time. I was raised from perdition by the Archangel Michael. In total I’ve died 7 times”.

Cristina looks at her mother with wide eyes and disbelief. Completely speechless. She looks over at her father Kenneth, and he nods his head. This better be all a dream. This can’t be real!.

“What? How? When? What?!!” she stammers, “Who else knows about this?!?”.

“I do, your grandmother, and your aunt” Kenneth answers, “No one else can know about this. Not your siblings, not Daenerys, not a soul can know about this sort of thing.”

Paige explains to her eldest, “I was 4 years old when my dad died. He died in a house fire that was started by a demon named Azazel. Your grandmother, aunt and I travel a lot, hunting down the demon that killed my father, and ruined our family. It’s a very long story, just to give you the short version. I never wanted you, and your siblings to live the life Kate and I lived growing up”.

“We wanted a normal life for you guys” Kate jumps in, leaning against the doorframe, “I agree, no one else can know about this, and the man you saw today. Lucifer, the real Lucifer”.

“Okay so what about Sam and Dean Winchester?!?” she asks, "Who are they??".

Kate and Paige look at each other and nod their heads.

“They’re family. Were family. They were our 1st cousins, their dad John, and our dad Joel were cousins. Their dads Henry and Alfred were brothers” Paige tells her, holding back tears, "Your brothers are named after them. They were the best hunters we have ever known. They were very brave. They've saved the world so many times, and we've never forgotten about them. We always think about them."

“We come from a long line of hunters. Not your typical hunters, but we hunted monsters. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, demons, all that shit” Kate tells her.

“I need to go lie down” Cristina says, getting up from the bed, going to her room. Feeling lightheaded.

“Don’t tell anyone. Please, we don't want anyone to freak out, or panic. So just don’t tell anyone” Paige pleads her.

“Okay” Cristina mutters, nodding her head. Walking towards her bedroom.

Going to her room, laying down on her bed, and trying to go to sleep. Only to wake up minutes later to the sound of rustling in the corner of her room. She sits up, turning on her light. Nothing. She lays back down, closing her eyes.

The rustling returns but she ignores it, turning on to her side, facing the wall. She hears very faint humming, thinking it's just her imagination. She ignores it. It grows slightly louder, and kind of obnoxious.

She sits up, and turns on her light again. She sees the same man from that afternoon. Lucifer.

“Hello!” he greets with that same calm voice, and a slight smirk on his face.

She’s about to scream, but he covers her mouth immediately. Muffling her screams.

“Why do you humans always act this way to surprising visitors?!?!” he asks annoyed, shaking his head.

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emwritesfootball · 4 years ago

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Treble Win | Benjamin Pavard

can you write one where you worked for Bayern and hanging out a lot with the players on their spare time. one day (on the Treble winning night), you drunk too much and accidentally had sex with Benjamin Pavard😍🥵

Normally, I hate writing people as staff members or anything (especially physios) but I couldn’t figure out what another good player-centric position was (and didn’t want to do any research oops) so I picked physio. Enjoy xx

- - -

As one of the youngest members of the physio staff, it made sense that you got on well with the players. You made sure to never have any conflicting interests, though - when it was time to work, you were engrossed in your job; when you were off the clock, you were ‘one of the lads’. As someone who’d just turned 24 - and had celebrated their birthday with the guys after training one day - you were especially close with Serge, Leon, and Benjamin Pavard. The four of you seemed to always be inseparable both on and off the pitch, so when Bayern won the UEFA Champions League and effectively won a treble for the second time in the club’s history, it felt like you’d won, too.

You watched like a proud mother as each team member lifted the trophy and celebrated with it, smiling especially wide when Serge, Leon and Benjamin got their turns. Your boss let you know that there was going to be a celebration once the groundskeepers were able to convince everyone to leave the pitch and that you were naturally invited.

The post-win after party was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, as surreal as the win itself, if you had to describe it. All the hard work of the season had paid off and now the team was partying like they were making up for all the days they could have partied but hadn’t. The alcohol was flowing, but you’d stuck to your one-drink-an-hour-with-water limit, wanting to take it all in so you could look back on this moment with clarity.

Benjamin had been eyeing you all night, watching as you danced first with Serge and Leon, then the two together. He was working his way through his second beer, trying to find some confidence that only liquid courage could offer. Sure, he was just coming off a Treble win, but he still wasn’t quite sure how to make a move with you. You were the only person he wanted to celebrate with and he’d been trying to figure out if it was even a good idea to mix business and pleasure with you, but he’d come to know you well over the course of the season and he knew you were worth it.

You bounded over to the bar, a smile on your face as you ordered another drink. You looked in his direction and caught his eye, your smile widening as you made your way over to him. “Congrats on the win,” you said, taking a sip of your cold beer that was just what you needed after all the dancing you’d done.

“Thank you,” Benjamin replied with a nod and a small smile that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. “It still feels a bit surreal.”

“I bet. I can’t quite believe I landed this job here and for my first year to be the year we win the Treble? C’est fou.”

Benjamin’s ears perked up at your use of French. It wasn’t the best because you were still in the very early stages of learning the language, but he was still in awe nonetheless. “D’accord.”

Your stomach flipped at the French that easily rolled off his tongue. You knew it was his first language and you’d heard him speak it on occasion, but tonight was different. There was a charged energy in the air between you two and you wanted to find out how deep it ran. You swallowed hard, gathering up your courage. It was your third beer of the night but with all the water you’d been drinking in between, you were almost painfully sober and you wished you’d had a little bit of help from alcohol right about now. Your tongue peeked out to wet your bottom lip and you didn’t miss the way Benjamin’s eyes tracked the movement. You surveyed the crowd of players and staff, your gaze falling on Lucas and his wife Amelia - she was sitting in his lap, her arms around him; the two looking at each other with adoration and barely-concealed lust and something inside you snapped. “Do you ever regret not seriously dating someone after a big win like this?” You asked Benjamin, no longer worried about filtering your words.

Benjamin was stunned at your candor, but he saw his opening and he was determined to make his move. “Sometimes, but then I realize that in times like this, I can celebrate with whomever I feel like celebrating with in the moment without worrying about being beholden to someone else.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, a smirk creeping up on your lips as you turned to look at him. “Who would you be having a celebratory fuck with tonight if you could?” Your body was alight with sensations, your mind still not catching up with your mouth and you were hoping to God you wouldn’t regret this later.

He turned towards you, taking your chin in his hand as he leaned down to whisper, “I’m not sure you want to know the answer to that question.”

“I’m not a fragile doll, Pavard. Tell me.” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from but you liked it and you could tell Benjamin did too.

“You.” His lips brushed across the outer shell of your ear as he spoke the word, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. All you could do was look up at him through your lashes, biting down on your bottom lip - a move Benjamin didn’t miss.

You slid a hand up his forearm, watching him react to your touch. It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him, obviously, but it was the first time you’d touched him with any intent that wasn’t friendly or for work. Things were about to change between the two of you and you were ready. “What do you say you come find me at the end of the night and if we’re both still feeling it - and we’re sober - we give in to whatever this is?”

“Comme tu veux.” The words were whispered in your ear once more, Benjamin brushing a light kiss across your cheek that left you gasping for air as he walked away and chatted with some of his teammates. As you wish.

***

Three hours later, you found yourself falling into bed with him. Both of you had had a few more drinks, but you couldn’t have been more sober or eager for this to happen. Benjamin pinned you against his front door the moment it closed behind you, his mouth on yours in a heated kiss that was long overdue. You met him kiss for kiss as your hands came up and tangled in his hair. The kiss held all the pent-up feelings both of you’d had during the season, some you didn’t even realize you had. Images of his body underneath your capable hands as you palpated his various muscles had you wet - you knew what his body felt like but now you’d get to explore in a new way and the feeling was overwhelming.

“Viens avec moi,” he rasped as he kissed your neck, pulling your body flush against his. Come with me. You moaned as you felt every inch of him pressed against you in all the best places, your panties surely soaked by now. Benjamin’s hands drifted down and cupped your ass greedily. “Jump.”

You did as he said, jumping and hooking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, both of you sharing goofy grins along the way. It was your turn to kiss his neck, nibbling on his earlobe as you enjoyed the sounds you elicited from him. Benjamin laid you on the bed, covering your body with his as he started to explore your body with his hands. “J'en ai rêvé,” he murmured as he bared your breasts, kissing the tops of each one before sucking each distended nipple in his mouth. I’ve had dreams about this.

“Moi aussi,” was all you were able to gasp, your back arching and your eyes shuttering closed at the pleasure. Me too. All the sensations went straight to your clit and you couldn’t help wondering just how good it would feel when Benjamin finally got his mouth on your pussy.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out, Benjamin’s skillful hands quickly ridding you of your jeans and panties, pressing kisses to the insides of your knees and up your inner thighs to tease before he finally got to your cunt. He lapped at your wetness, little hums of pleasure coming from him to mix with your needy mewls. It wasn’t long before your fingers were tangled in his hair, your legs locked around his face like a vise as you rode his face to an intense orgasm.

Before he could do it himself, you were freeing his cock, ready to reciprocate some of what you’d just received. Benjamin groaned at the sight of you going down on him, slobbering all over his quickly-hardening cock. When he’d had enough of your mouth, he grabbed you off him, reveling in the confused whine that left your lips before he had you on your back as he lined up his cock with the entrance to your pussy.

Your nails raked down his back, your body dripping in sweat but so overstimulated you knew a second orgasm was imminent. Your name was on his lips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while he picked up the pace. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, your orgasm building. “Benjamin!”

When you came it was just as mind blowing as the first, the feeling of Benjamin’s cum coating your inner walls what sent you over the edge. Benjamin pulled out of you and laid next to you as you both caught your breath. You got up shortly after to clean yourself up, catching a glimpse of your freshly-sexed-and-satisfied reflection.

By the time you got back, Benjamin was ready for another round, taking you in a different position this time. The two of you spent the rest of the night and the next morning “celebrating”, not sure when you’d actually end up leaving the hotel room.

Forever Tags: @chilly-me-softly @savingprivatecass @inlovewithamess @footballdaydream @brewsterbabyy @bbychilly @jamesdanielmaddison @hmminnbirdd @sweetlikesugar9 @lawsandother @eastxfeden @words-for-marcus @eatsleepbreathefutbol @hoelymolywinksy @marco-asensios @kingkepaff @meteora-fc

#my writing: benjamin pavard #requests: benjamin pavard #october 2020 requests

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mountphoenixrp · 3 years ago

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Lee Minho, who is also known as Min; a 22 year old son of Akbul. He is a security guard at Babylon.

FC NAME/GROUP: Lee Minho (Lee Know), Stray Kids CHARACTER NAME: Lee Minho, goes by simply “Min” AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 22 | October 25, 1998 PLACE OF BIRTH: Gimpo, South Korea OCCUPATION: Security Guard at Babylon HEIGHT: 5’8” WEIGHT: 120 lbs DEFINING FEATURES: Round scar on the front and back of his left upper arm from a through-and-through bullet wound.

PERSONALITY: To strangers, Min seems cold and untouchable; a quiet figure who sticks to the shadows. He almost seems like a shadow himself, the way he sticks close to the few friends he has. He isn’t one for small talk and is rather snarky by nature, so he can come off as a jerk at times.

However, once you get to know him, he is more sassy and funny than you would have expected. He has a strange sense of humour, often employing self-deprecating or threatening jokes that he can deliver with a very straight face.

HISTORY: [ TW: death, gun violence, blood ]

Lee Minho was born to a struggling single mother. The first ten years of his life were happy, but not exactly easy- marked by tattered hand-me-downs from his slightly older cousins, meager school lunches and a shabby apartment that always seemed to have something wrong with it. But it wasn't so bad. He was very close with his mom, and he would later credit his upbringing for teaching him to be scrappy and resourceful and clever.  Then, his mother met Kwon Wonyoung. They had a whirlwind romance, which essentially meant that one day ten-year-old Min was being introduced to this man who seemed very successful and kind and fun; and within five months, he was the ring bearer at their wedding.  From then on, life was a lot different. They moved into a nice suburban house. Min was enrolled in a private school where he thrived. His mom started working with Wonyoung at his company. For the first time in his life, they were living carefree and comfortably. Min was able to focus on his studies, proudly proclaiming that he wanted to go to business school like his step-dad had.  However, Min did begin to become suspicious as he grew older. Wonyoung's vague company seemed to do business at odd hours, and worked with a lot of cash. Sometimes, people who made his skin crawl came to the house to have hushed conversations with his parents. His mother, who had once been like his best friend, had withdrawn from him- still loving, but distant and distracted. It all seemed very fishy, but he was not sure what to think about it. He did not want to jump to drastic conclusions.

then, one chilly autumn day when he was sixteen, Min came home from a study group to find the front door ajar. He did not even have time to take a step closer before something hard collided with the back of his head and everything went black. When he woke up, he and his parents were tied to their kitchen chairs. Something cold and hard was pressed to his temple. He stayed quiet as his parents and the strangers in their home exchanged words.

“Tell us where the money is, or I’ll blow your son’s head off!”

“We don’t have it! It was… stolen!” Even to him, his father did not sound genuine.

“Awfully nice home for someone who lost everything. Isn’t this kitchen new?”

He saw his parents’ faces blanch, tears streaming down his mother’s face, as the man holding the gun to his head switched the safety off. He grit his teeth, hands gripping the arms of the chair so tight that his knuckles were white. His heart was hammering in his chest, the rush of his blood so loud in his ears that everything else seemed muted.

“Did you really think that you could double-cross the Bang Family and live to tell the tale? You’re not that stupid.”

“P-Please… Please don’t hurt my s-son!” His mother screamed, struggling fruitlessly against her restraints.

He saw a small movement from his periphery. The man’s trigger finger flexing. He clenched his eyes shut— but whatever he had been expecting didn’t come. Just a small, hollow click. The gun was empty. He did not know whether he wanted to laugh or scream.

“I know where the money is.” He heard himself say. It was a lie. He hadn’t even known that there was money— drug money or whatever the hell it was. But he had to do something, and he had always been a good bluff.

Maybe too good.

“That’s a good boy.” The gun lowered, and a rough hand came up to pat his head. And then the other two men in the room raised their weapons and shot his parents in the head.

Min let out a small, strangled cry just as all the lights in the house went out, leaving it pitch black. Even the glow of the moon and streetlights didn’t seem to filter in through the windows. He went to pull against his restraints, but they were suddenly undone, falling away from his limbs easily. He ran in the direction of the front door, his movements somehow soundless. When he reached for the handle, it was right where he thought it was. And then he was out in the yard, scrambling toward the road.

That was when a small group of people came out of no where, rushing past him and shooting at the men who had killed his parents as they stumbled out of the dark house. He stopped in his tracks, turning to watch the men fall dead on the porch. His legs buckled beneath him and he fell to his knees, tears streaking his cheeks. Through blurred vision, he watched a few people go into his house while another approached him and crouched at his side. A warm hand touched his shoulder, a reassuring voice saying something he couldn’t quite process. He just nodded numbly, his eyes still on the front door.

He had been by Vincent’s side ever since. Fiercely loyal to the man who had saved his life, he committed himself to helping take down the people who had ordered the deaths of his family, driven equally by a desire for revenge and a need for justice. He was basically living on borrowed time, so why not become a Dark Angel and make sure that no other families were torn apart like his was?

It took years, but eventually he got to face the people who had had his parents killed. Now an adult with some handle on his strange power over the dark, he felt confident and strong and ready. But things went wrong. One of their own was killed, a girl who had been like a big sister to him. Knelt beside her body, trying to stop the blood flowing from her wounds, he hardly even noticed when Vincent dispatched his parents. Suddenly, seeing them dead didn’t matter to him anymore.

The group drifted apart after that. Min was directionless, listless. He returned home to Gimpo and worked to dismantle another petty drug ring, but it did not feel the same as when he had been part of a group. He felt like he did not have a purpose anymore.

And then Vincent mentioned Mount Phoenix while they were chatting on the phone, an island not far from Incheon that Min had never even heard of. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so useless with Vincent around again- and besides, he still owed the man a life debt.

“Where’s this place? You mind if I crash on your couch for a bit? I’m bored out of my fucking skull.”

PANTHEON: Mayan CHILD OF: Akbul POWERS: Min has the ability to manipulate darkness- summoning it and bend it to his will. Additionally, he can move completely undetected within darkness/shadows. STRENGTHS: Street-smart, sassy, observant, stealthy, loyal. WEAKNESSES: Can come off as rude or aloof, tends to punch first and ask questions later, easily bored, lacks purpose.

#kpop rp #krp #stray kids #lee minho #lee know #mp; welcome

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aphrodites-law · 5 years ago

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A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (5/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

If there was someone or something overseeing their lives, pulling the strings of their destiny and purposefully nudging them toward specific paths, then Clarke wanted a fucking word with them.

It was a surprise, if not a shock, when she saw Lexa stroll into the shop with her laptop bag slung over her shoulder. It was barely a week after Clarke had resolved not to think about her anymore, a plan that hadn't always been successful. Lexa walked toward the counter with a proud chin, as if nothing had changed.

"Good morning," she said.

Clarke could have thrown a mini Bundt cake at her if Wells hadn't nearly burnt his apron making them.

"It was," she answered, deciding that professionalism was not in the cards today.

“I’ll have some pie, please."

“Humble?”

Lexa set her jaw. “And what would that taste like?”

Clarke smiled sardonically. “Bitter.”

Lexa held her stare before looking at the display. "I think I'll try the mini Bundt."

"For here or to go?" Clarke asked as she rang it up.

Lexa seemed disappointed to see that her usual seat by the weeping fig was occupied.

"Looks like it's busy."

"Faithful clientele," Clarke retorted, and then, "for the most part."

Lexa exhaled sharply before pulling out her wallet to pay in cash. "No problem, I'll have it to go."

Clarke put the mini Bundt in a paper bag. "No coffee?" she asked, though she didn't care much for the answer.

"Not today."

"I'm sorry we're fresh out of kale juice." It was a snippy comment that Clarke knew she was above making, but Lexa's sudden reappearance had touched a nerve.

Whatever Lexa wanted to say, she visibly stopped herself. She grabbed her mini Bundt and then pulled out a sheet of paper from her bag.

"Would you mind if I put this up? It's the ad for interviews."

"I offered, didn't I?"

"Offers change."

"I don't go back on my word," Clarke answered stubbornly.

Lexa challenged her stare before nodding and walking toward the board. She scanned over each flyer, seemingly trying to figure out which one she could put hers next to. Finally she pinned it near the middle right. It was a sober flyer; no bold colors or giant fonts, but eye-catching in its minimalism compared to the busier ads surrounding it. As always, Lexa stuck to the basics.

Carrying her mini Bundt, she gave Clarke one last look before leaving. Clarke noticed the tip she'd left and hung her head before going back to her doodles. It was going to be a slow, rainy day.

* * *

It was a slow, rainy week. The wind came first; strong gusts that swept up old leaves and knocked down hats. A downpour followed on Wednesday, unrelenting and miserable. Customers came into the shop drenched, sticking their umbrellas in the already full rack by the entrance before rubbing their cold hands together.

Clarke liked watching their faces; the expressions of relief at finally finding some shelter and comfort from the brutal rain. It was gloomy outside but the café was everyone's home for a little while, the colors still warm and the plants still thriving. She couldn't help but enjoy these moments regardless of the cold, remembering this feeling was exactly why she'd gotten into this business in the first place.

Still, Clarke was human. An hour before closing time she was already fantasizing about hot tomato soup and the comfort of her bed. She'd finished chatting with a regular when Wells came in looking like he'd run a mile to get here. He usually left much earlier than she did, but sometimes swung back to check on things before driving to meet Raven at the theater.

"You want to read this," he told her with barely contained excitement, clutching his phone against his soaked raincoat.

He rounded the counter and showed her the screen. It was an article from the Costial Gazette with a damning title:

Finn's Coffee & Bagels: Neither Fresh nor Clean

"What is this?" Clarke asked, skimming the article. There were mentions of false advertising, misleading business practices, trouble brewing with the Federal Trade Commission, mentions of artificial preservatives despite claims of the contrary, and, to top off the proverbial shit cake, an anonymous employee detailing horrid management. It was a scalding report - one Clarke had dreamed of writing herself.

Understandably, Wells couldn't stop grinning. "This is good, right? Especially the FTC stuff. Bad for him, good for us."

Clarke was about to answer when a thought struck her. She quickly scrolled back up: By Echo Blake and Lexa Woods.

Clarke shut her eyes closed. So maybe she'd jumped to conclusions when she'd seen Lexa at his shop. Maybe she'd made it personal. Who wouldn't? Lexa was still… Lexa. Impossible to read and impossible to understand.

"Titus will drop him for sure," Wells mused aloud. "How the hell did Finn get the old man to carry his brand anyway?"

"Money. Connections. Empty promises." Clarke had no doubt about that. "That's mostly how Finn gets what he wants."

Wells was still smiling from ear to ear when he texted Raven a link to the article. "Looks like it finally bit him in the ass. We should send the Gazette a Thank You cake."

Clarke leaned her elbows on the counter and let out a noncommittal grunt.

"What's wrong?" Wells asked. "I thought you'd be happy about this."

"Oh I'm happy. Just thinking about the humble pie I'm gonna have to eat myself."

* * *

Naturally, Clarke had to wait another week before Lexa dared show up again. She'd noticed that her ad had attracted some attention - curious customers reading it and then pocketing a tear-off tab - and was anticipating Lexa would come in to either replace it or take it down.

When she did, it was during the usual afternoon lull and Clarke felt nervous. Now that she knew her anger had stemmed from… well, a combination of things but also an overreaction, she was embarrassed by the way she'd previously spoken to Lexa.

When Lexa walked in, Clarke was cleaning one of the coffee machines. It was her distorted reflection that she saw in the nozzle; her discreet gait as she walked toward the board and unpinned her ad. Clarke figured she would leave immediately, but Lexa approached the counter. Her eyes scanned over the display glass.

"Can I get you anything?" Clarke tentatively asked.

Lexa looked up and readjusted the strap of her satchel. "Are there any baby Bundts left?"

Clarke shook her head. "All out. It's pecan tartlet week. But Wells liked making them, burnt apron aside - we could put them back in the rotation this month."

Lexa seemed surprised Clarke even suggested something that would please her. "That's alright; I'll just wait."

"Regular coffee?" Clarke asked.

Lexa nodded while looking away. "Sure."

As Clarke poured Lexa's regular in a paper cup, she couldn't help but feel like this was their first conversation all over again. Odd and stilted but also one that she didn't want to end so soon. Clarke capped the coffee and turned to her.

"I read your article on FC&B. It's really good." She gave her the cup. "Personal bias aside."

A small smile graced Lexa's face and Clarke felt a thrill. "My co-writer did most of the investigative work."

"But you did some too," Clarke remembered, knowing Lexa would also recollect the time Clarke had spotted her in Finn's shop. "Tried their juice and everything."

Lexa's nose scrunched subtly. "If that's what you want to call it. But still, Echo deserves the credit for the piece. It was her story from the beginning; I was mostly a sounding board."

Something about Lexa dismissing her own work bothered Clarke. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"I've read your stuff before; I know there was some of you in that article. Just take the compliment, Lexa."

There was that fierce light in Lexa's eyes again. "It's not fully mine to take."

"I guess they just put your name on there to fill space?"

Lexa pressed her lips together, unimpressed with the sarcasm.

Clarke huffed. "Why are you so-" She couldn't even finish her question, unsure where to start. Why couldn't they communicate normally? Why did every sentence feel like a mountain to climb? And how on earth did Lexa push her buttons without even lifting a finger?

"You're frustrated," Lexa pointed out.

"I am."

"With me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"No. I've been told I can be frustrating before."

She said it with such a jaded expression that Clarke couldn't help but laugh. "God, how could I ever think…"

"Think what?" Lexa asked without skipping a beat.

Clarke shook her head and walked to the end of the counter. "Nothing."

Lexa followed. "You know, I'm not the only one who sidesteps questions."

There was something unnerving about her tone, like she was challenging her, and Clarke wasn't known to be a graceful loser.

"You don't want the answers."

"Try me. You might be surprised."

Clarke scoffed, then decided she wouldn't back away any longer. "What do you really want to ask, Lexa?" It was the same turn of phrase Lexa had used on her at the bar; the frustration of unspoken truths reaching a boiling point.

"What did you see?" Lexa inquired, never once looking away from her.

Clarke hesitated. They couldn't do this here, now… could they?

"Clarke," Lexa said, almost like a plea.

Clarke wasn't sure she'd ever heard her name said that way. She waited a beat. "Fine. I saw you."

Lexa visibly swallowed. "What about me?"

"You're a journalist. Guess."

"Good journalists don't guess. I would need some information to first form a hypothesis and then-"

"You kissed me," Clarke interjected, fed up with logic.

Lexa's mouth clamped shut, so Clarke continued:

"And I mean you kissed me everywhere. Is that enough to form a hypothesis?"

Lexa processed for a moment, her cheeks a shade darker. "It explains… things."

"Why?" Clarke paused, thinking it through. "Did you have…"

"Yes."

"The same?"

"Not exactly."

"Well? Spit it out."

Lexa looked around them, but no one paid them any attention. "I was making coffee. In my underwear.”

Clarke frowned, unsure she'd heard her correctly. "You're kidding, right? I make coffee every day, how is that so embarrassing you couldn't tell me?"

"No, you don't understand," Lexa weakly said. "I don't… like… coffee. Hate it. Any hot beverage actually."

"You hate coffee," Clarke repeated incredulously, eyes going to the very cup Lexa was holding.

"But I was making it," Lexa reiterated. "In an apartment that wasn't mine. With doodles framed everywhere. After recognizing the style, I figured… I was making it for you."

Clarke stepped back, bewildered. She had never once thought that Lexa might've seen the same thing she had, or something close, or even seen her. She wasn't even sure what that meant, if anything at all.

"Oh."

"Yes."

It was like everything had shifted in the span of a few seconds, the before and after she had revealed what she'd seen. It was different now. Lexa knew, and she knew, and everything that had brought them here took on a different meaning. Lexa starting a dialogue; Lexa inviting her to a play; Lexa catching her eyes from across a room. She had been trying to solve a puzzle too; trying to understand what she might've missed before.

But.

Something between them never quite… locked. For the first time, Clarke realized that Lexa was just as wildly out of her depth as she was. Even in her anger she'd put Lexa on a pedestal; seen her as the diligent journalist with the clever words and the impenetrable stare. Now she saw Lexa as someone looking for answers just as she was. They'd both been trying to form a connection based on a vision - maybe that was the problem.

"Well, that kind of takes the surprise out of it," she said, finally exhaling.

Lexa opened and shut her mouth, unsure where to go from there. She settled on a mute nod while Clarke fiddled with her hands, glancing toward the front door and praying for someone to walk in. No such miracle happened quickly enough.

"Thank you for telling me." Lexa had gone quieter; introspective in the way Clarke was used to.

"Yep." Clarke rubbed the back of her neck. "It's probably for the best that- I mean, it's a relief actually."

"It is. I'm sorry if I acted strangely," Lexa said. "I was confused."

"Right. Because we barely knew each other."

"Exactly."

"And I mean… we were both clearly trying to see if there was something… there, and, I don't know that-"

Lexa's eyes flashed to hers. "No, of course not. I'm just a customer."

Clarke frowned. "I didn't say that."

"But it's true. We were drawn to each other because of something out of our control. It's something I've heard a lot in recent interviews. A guy walking up to a woman after he had a vision of her dress. A wife divorcing her husband because she had a vision of herself accepting a drink from a stranger."

Lexa seemed to have gone back into business mode and Clarke didn't know if it was some sort of deflecting mechanism. Regardless, Clarke had never felt this awkward in her life. Like she might trip on her own feet if she even moved.

"So the visions push us to act a certain way," she tried to catch on.

Lexa nodded. "I'm exploring the theory that they're just one thread among hundreds of others. No one is forced to pull that one specifically. Nothing is ever inevitable."

Clarke didn't know what else she could do but nod in acknowledgment. That was it? People got life-altering information from their visions but she got a theory from the woman she shared the supposedly most exciting event of her life with?

"I'm glad we could clear the air."

"Absolutely," Lexa agreed.

Silence stretched for what felt like a minute before Lexa looked at her watch. "Speaking of interviews, I have a phone call soon."

"Great. Hope it's helpful."

"I'm sure it will be."

When Lexa started to leave, Clarke suddenly remembered something. "Wait!"

Lexa looked at her with wide eyes, practically in disbelief Clarke would want to prolong the excruciating moment.

"One more thing," Clarke said.

"Yes?"

Clarke took a deep breath. "Was it a date?"

Lexa frowned. "What?"

"When you offered me a ticket to Lincoln's play. When you mentioned the after party. Were you asking me out?"

"You'd mentioned wanting to see a play," Lexa stammered. "I had the spare ticket."

"Did you want to pull the thread, Lexa?" Clarke asked, feeling a surge of confidence. Now that the secret was out, she needed to know everything. She needed their bizarre back-and-forths to have an explanation.

Lexa froze. "I'm a journalist; I investigate. You were my only lead."

It affected her more than it should have, considering Clarke had promised herself she wouldn't let Lexa Woods get to her again.

Lexa must've noticed. "I didn't mean - you're obviously not just-"

"It's fine. I get it. I wanted to be sure too." Clarke turned to grab a towel for the counter. "It's like you said: nothing is inevitable. I'm glad we got it squared away."

Lexa nodded weakly. "So everything can go back to the way it used to be."

"Sure."

"I look forward to tomorrow's new batch," Lexa told her politely before leaving.

Clarke dropped her towel and sat on the stool they kept behind the counter. Lexa was back in her life, but somehow it felt worse to return to normal. Somehow all Clarke could think about was that Lexa wanted to pull their damn thread but something was keeping her from it.

And maybe it was time to admit she might’ve hoped Lexa and her were inevitable.

[part six]

#clexa #clarke x lexa #clexa fic #f: a bit of clarity #w

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elegant-etienne · 4 years ago

Note

3. [I] trusted [you]

Send me a number to receive a micro story!

Thank you for the ask, @maybeimawhale!

(This song is what always comes to mind when I see the word ‘Trusted.’ And I think a lot about how I used to relate to this song, in the wake of a really bad break-up, but now that I’m older, I have to wonder if the narrator of the song is being at all reasonable. I also find it helpful, when revisiting subjects I’ve written before, to twist around the perspective a bit, and give myself permission, without naming the character in this piece, to treat Etienne’s ex-husband as a NPC, and admit to myself a lot of my own character’s faults from the outside.)

BEHIND THE CUT: Descriptions of a toxic marriage, substance abuse and addiction, suicidal ideation and an attempt, allusions to past abuse and PTSD, and very inaccurate TBH but this is more or less how I remember it going down descriptors of someone having a “split personality,” and some light misgendering of Etienne (they ID’ed as male when they met their ex-husband, and at the time of their wedding).

Also I am sorry for any errors, I can’t go back and fix them after the initial post or it’ll break the formatting on the post.

insp. Ben Folds - Trusted

It's funny I know But I'm disappointed in you I thought you could read my mind

Your husband - your spouse Etienne is doing better after the time away. Actually, the time when they was sleeping in the recovery wing - three sennights - is among the best you two have had. A few hours of visitation, and they're affectionate and loving and missing you. Even a rare smile, and they show you where the stitches came out. A bell or two isn't enough time to get worked into a fervor about things and restart the same fights you've been having for moons.

When they return, Etienne has warmth in their cheeks again. They're gaining weight again. They don't smile, but they've always been quiet about that sort of thing. They've missed you. They've missed you so much. They look more like they did on your wedding day, that reserved, understated glow. They look like the Etienne you married.

(In those moments when you thought you could still be one person successfully. In those moments when they thought they'd killed the other you. In those moments when they stood at you at the altar, teary-eyed but happy, so happy.)

"Welcome home, Etie," you say with your brightest grin.

"I'll be better this time. I promise. I'll never do that again."

You laugh and embrace. You're both so relieved.

But I came home early And saw that a drawer'd been opened Looks like you've been reading my diary instead

After a long shift in Medica, all you want to do is come home and take a bath. Etienne seems to have other ideas, however. They're seated at the desk. They're glaring at you. They hold up your notebook - the one with all the reports.

"So this is what you've been doing at night while I'm gone? Forbidden research and magic? I thought we talked about this! It's too dangerous, after the last time. What if it goes too far?"

"There was no one else who could do it. It had to be me." You've never raised your voice to Etienne. Not once. Sometimes, you've cried while you're fighting. Etienne has shouted before. Twice. It frightened you.

(They wanted to kill the other half of you.)

"What if something had happened to you while I was in care? I wouldn't have known where you were. And what if there had been an emergency at the FC? Folk need you. I need you. And you promised..." Etienne bows their head, sucking in sharp breaths to try and stop the crying.

"You have no business going through my notes. There could have been patient information in there!"

"...You were acting strangely. You were hurt. You weren't telling me things. You broke your promise." The tears have been withdrawn, all that's left is dead, blank sullenness from Etienne.

"I had no other choice."

"Did you even try to stop and think of one?"

"There wasn't time. Percy and--"

"Percy?!" There it is, the raised voice, a burst of life, a flame in their eyes. "I knew it. I knew he and you--"

"It was work--"

"--Have something going on, you told me it was nothing, you told me you weren't seeing him when I wasn't around-- While I was in the bloody hospital from trying to kill myself because I can't stand this, and you wouldn't leave me alone, you wouldn't just give me the space, and now the moment you have you're running around--" Etienne always gets like this. A million words a moment. Each a pointed attack, an accusation. When Etienne gets this way, you can't do anything right.

"--It's only work--!"

"Maybe I shouldn't have come back. Maybe Rosa was right, it's too soon, we're not ready." Etienne straights their posture, scrubbing at their eyes with the heels of their hands. "I drew you a bath. I'm going to bed."

How does it feel to realize You're all alone behind your eyes?

The bath is strewn with rose petals, the candles burned down hours ago. It's dark and cool in the bedroom off the heat of the bath. Your spouse is bunched up in one corner of the bed. "I love you, you know," you speak to the dark. To Etienne's back.

"I love you too," Etienne says, but doesn't turn around. “...Be honest. Did you fuck him?”

“No, it’s not like that. He found this... it was like a cursed circus, full of twisted creatures, he needed cleansing spells, he was able to show me ways to amplify my power...”

(He knows about the other you.)

"It's alright if you did," Etienne says, malms away in the same bed. Did they even hear your explanation? "If you want to, just tell me. We can figure out an arrangement, a lot of married couples do, just don't lie to me. Don't lie."

"It's not like that."

It seems to me if you can't trust You can't be trusted

You wait to hear the soft wheeze of Etienne's snores, but you drift off before they do. Somehow. In the middle of the night, it's a repeat of others. This hasn't changed with the time in care ward, apparently. Etienne sits up and starts screaming, won't be held, won't be comforted. 3AM in the morning and your spouse is in the corner, knees to chest, rocking. They start rooting around, too, when you pretend to sleep. They won't find anything. You poured all the liquor out sennights ago -- even the things in the back of the icebox and at the top of the bookshelf.

Caught in a dream Picking up astral signals Some of them psychic, you better watch what you think

You come home to Etienne sitting in front of their vanity. You see the shimmer of a deactivated glamour prism. There are tears in their eyes, but you don't know why. They slip the plate into a drawer somewhere, and you do not ask more about it.

"I got more of the sedative. To help you with sleeping. So you don't have to drink." It's never difficult to cadge a little bit of medicine on the side for loved ones when it's needed - such are the benefits of being one of the heads of Medica. No one has to ask any questions. Etienne doesn't have to get upset or embarrassed at exposing their problems to anyone they don't trust. Rosa doesn't have to put her foot down and force Etienne to stay in the care ward, away from you. It's win-win.

Something flits across Etienne's face - suspicion, mayhap, and they say-- "I'm going to try and handle it. I'm. I don't know if it's a good idea for you to keep giving me that stuff."

"The sedative's non-habit-forming. It's better than alcohol, at least."

"I still shouldn't turn to something every time I'm distressed. It scares me. Depending on that."

"Then at least talk to me about what's bothering you."

Etienne looks at you through the mirror, not turning around. "It's not anything distinct. It's. Hands. Being pulled down into darkness. Being pinned down. Being unable to escape. Sometimes it's so real I feel it, getting slammed into a wall or onto the icy ground... and no matter how I struggle, I can't get free. So I start screaming."

"Etie..."

"Well, whatever. Everyone's got their shite." You hate this. How they mutter and retreat into themselves. They fold up into themselves and they don't come back.

(Your nightmares are of fire, of the Calamity. Lost in the woods, mother and father are gone, you can't find your brother's hand--)

Etienne shuffles resentfully into the silence. "Are you willing to tell me what you did on that mission?"

"Are you promising not to get angry when I tell you the details?"

Etienne lifts their chin. "I'll decide that when you tell me."

(You tell them. You don't tell them all of it. You don't tell them he's back.)

Happens to be that everybody else's dreams are Freudian clues You better watch what you dream

A few suns later, Etienne makes breakfast for you. That pink ruffly apron, but there's no singing this morning: just the sizzling pan. "Do you remember anything at all about last night?" they ask, plating up the little fish with fresh, fluffy rice. They loved that Doman cooking book you got them.

"Um..."

Etienne pours you scalding hot green tea. "I went looking for you. I gave that friend of yours quite a scare. I think maybe he thought I'd burn him alive." Etienne snorts. "I just made his tea boil a bit. When he told me the truth of what you two have been up to."

"Why would you--"

"Then I found you in the Quicksand. Chatting up someone else. Are you cheating on us both, darling?"

Your head's spinning as you try to braid the threads of last night back together. "That wasn't me--"

"No, it wasn't. I brought him back here. He was as awful to me as ever." Etienne accuses with swordlike jabs. "If he's back," they say, "Why did we do any of it? The ritual? I almost lost you then! Why did you make me do any of that if he was just going to come back?"

(Your head hurts.)

"You shouldn't have gone through my things," you hiss out. "There are things that you are better off not knowing!"

"Oh, like the fact you and that boy have a magical connection? Unlike anything either of you has ever experienced? And how you - the other you - is the most brilliant mind he's ever known? It's just like I said. Remember that? You said nothing was happening, but he's totally in love with you."

"It isn't like that."

"Tell that to him, then."

(Etienne never listens.)

"Even if there's something going on - it - it isn't with me and him, it's--"

"The other one. I know. The other one who threatened to kill me."

"He was just testing you."

"And that makes it better?"

"He's lashing out because you tried to destroy him."

"He started it. You said the ritual would fix you," Etienne rasps out a whisper. "I can't believe this. I can't believe we did all that and... I'm dragging someone wearing the body of my husband out of a seedy tavern. I looked like such a fool. I thought we fixed this."

"Maybe," you feel your voice dropping to a growl, "I never needed to be fixed."

You want to see the other side What's going on behind the eyes

(Last winter, you came out of a fog to Etienne staring at you, withdrawn into a calmly blank expression, their posture stiff.

"Why," they ask you, "Did you just threaten to murder me?"

You said, groggily, "What?"

And you explained it all. The splitting.

"How am I supposed to feel safe around you when there's - there's something inside you that wants to kill me?" Etienne asks, too steadily. "He knows everything about me that I've told you. He knows what I'm afraid of. This is a problem." They say, and they speak your name urgently.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, if - if he did."

"Oh, I wasn't scared," Etienne says, quietly and intensely. "I'm used to being around men who'd just as soon slit my throat as fuck me. Or one and then the other, with no particular preference of the order. I just didn't realize you were one of them.")

Still it seems if you can't trust You can't be trusted

Here is one of the fights you've had more than once: your friend thought of a way to get rid of the other personality. Put him into another body.

"So we'd just take the body of someone who - what? Even if you found a willing subject, that would be killing someone." Etienne pulls their knees up to their chest, the water rippling. You're sitting at the edge of the bath. They seem to want to melt into the steam wafting off the surface. It makes them dewy. You're not sure if they're crying or not.

"No," you tell them, "We could put him into another body where the spirit had already returned to the Lifestream."

"That's necromancy. I won't do necromancy."

"We may have no other option."

"If you mess with corpses, you really won't have control over what ends up in there. You could be inviting something very, very bad in. You know that, don't you? What you're talking about is defiling the dead. It's a sin. It's a defiance of Nald'Thal's balance. It's a perversion of everything I believe. You know that. You shouldn't do it. Don't ask me to do it!"

"What if we have no other choice?"

Etienne stands up in the water, then, thinking to get out. They shout, "I can't do it! Don't ask me!" Their voice echoes and buzzes in the small space of the bath. The water ripples as they sink back down into it. They let the water bury them like a comfort blanket. "I'm - I'm sorry. Please just go away," they say in a tiny voice. "Let me think."

"I'll be outside."

Didn't you know we're as close as we can be?

In the end, what else could you do? Etienne didn't trust you to handle the situation. Etienne wouldn't participate in the most obviously effective ritual. Etienne was angry at you when the first attempt didn't work as planned. Etienne was an unstable, suicidal, dangerously alcoholic. It hadn't taken much time at all after the hospitalization for them to fall back on old ways.

They couldn't be trusted.

On the day you left to do it, you kissed their forehead, tucked the blankets all around them, and put strong wards on the doors after emptying another round of hidden bottles.

The sun's coming up She's pulled all the blankets over Curled in a ball Like she's hiding from me and That's when I know

Their voice comes over the linkpearl. There's a danger to it. "Why are there wards on the door, what are these?"

"It's the only way to keep you from drinking when I can't be there," you explain calmly.

Etienne sucks in a breath, and you brace for yelling. "You can't just lock me in here," they whisper. "I'm a person. I'm an adult. You have to let me out."

"I have somewhere to be for a few suns. You've food in there. You'll be alright. Sober up."

"Can't you call someone to come check on me? Rosa, or someone? Please, I can't - don't leave me here alone."

"I'm sorry, it was my only option. This can't wait."

She's gonna be pissed when she wakes up For terrible things I did to her in her dreams

The apartment is in poor shape when you return. It seems at several points Etienne attempted to magic the doorway and scorched the rug - or the levin sparked and started a fire - and they also attempted sheer brute force. One of the charming little kitchen chairs is splintered. But the Etienne you find is more like the Etienne you married. Ducking their head shyly, saying, "I'm really sorry... I'm sorry I relapsed, I'm weak."

"I'm sorry I had to do that," you say. The two of you hug desperately.

(You're sorry you had to do all of it.)

You want to see the other side What's going on behind the eyes

(You're sorry the first ritual failed. The softness and patience Etienne showed you then, when you were recovering, when you didn't remember them - they were just as sweet as they'd been when you first got married. When you first started dating. Before everything got so bad.)

Still it seems if you can't trust You can't be trusted

The night Etienne tried to kill themselves, you had a fight. It was about all those nights you went out, not telling them where you were going. "I can't keep doing this," Etienne said to you, staring up at the statue of Nald'thal in the Ossuary. "I can't." They speak your name with such quiet urgency. "I need time to think."

"Please," you beg, your eyes stinging. "Don't leave me." You grab their arm. They try to jerk away from the touch.

Their voice echoes loud in the Ossuary. "Don't bloody touch me when I’m upset! Please!"

You hold onto their arm harder. Their arm is so thin. They're slipping away from you. "Please don't leave, please don't be angry. Please...!"

"I'm not -- I'm not -- I just..."

You're sobbing.

"I'm sorry, darling," Etienne says, gently touching your face, your hair, "Let's go home."

You have a long conversation-argument at the apartment. You explain why the work is essential. They beg you to promise not to do things that put you in danger. You tell them you'll do your best. You don't like doing things that upset them, after all.

"I don't know what's wrong with me,” Etienne murmurs. “I feel hounded, I can't sleep. You're always so busy. Since the ritual and... since that... incident with Henri..."

"Are you guilty? Because of what happened?"

"I honestly just want to be alone," Etienne says. They are sitting at the desk about a yalm from you, but they're malms away. "So much has happened the last few moons. I need to figure it out."

"Do you mean traveling? I can't right now, with work -- and I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be on your own. I don't think you're alright on your own right now."

"True," Etienne says, lowering their head. They shuffle around in the desk, and your feel your face heat. Another bottle? Etienne whispers something, "You won't let me go," mayhap, and then. The letter opener.

Thank the Twelve you're a healer. Thank the Twelve you had the sedative. They beg you for it that night, after you stop the bleeding. They can’t sleep and they’re half mad, crying and ranting. And you take them to your co-worker Rosa in the morning. She takes Etienne away from you. Says they need to rest and recover under direct supervision. Etienne doesn't even want to see you at first, or perhaps it's that Rosa won't let you near them. She's the one who stipulated only short visits while Etienne recovers. She only lets you back after Etienne sleeps for two suns straight.

Didn't you know we're as close as we can be?

You remember the day you fell in love with Etienne. You both were sitting at the Quicksand. You had tea, they had orange juice, and another man sat down between you two at the table and made himself welcome. He asked you why you stuttered.

"While on the subject of questions, why are you so bloody rude?" Etienne asked. They said to you, "You don't have to answer that." And you smiled, feeling sunshine radiating out of every pore.

"I'm not the sort of man for relationships," Etienne said, later, as you walked down the streets of Ul'dah, over to the steps of the Ossuary. You offered to escort them to work, as though they needed it. "I've been through a lot. I don't even know if I can love anyone - it all seems like kind of a fool's errand, honestly. Men are... I've just met so many, many awful men."

You took their hand, and they look at you, surprised. "I can be patient," you promised them, "I can wait. I think you're worth it. I think you're worth trying for. I've never met anyone like you."

"Well, thank you, I suppose," Etienne says, their lips twisting as they hold back skeptical laughter. "Let’s promise one another, though - let’s be honest with one another about how this going. If someone else catches your fancy, or I do something you don't like, please just tell me. You wouldn't believe how many times I got hauled out of a nobleman's bed by a surprised wife. As if it's my fault their marriage is falling apart! I don't want anything like that, alright? No silly secrets!”

"Promise."

“Not that I imagine we'll get married. I'm really not the type." Etienne laughs at the sky. “What am I doing?!”

Hello.

#writing #asks #ic #past #maybeimawhale

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thelittlestcheshire · 5 years ago

Text

Task 002: Family

Warning - under the read more is long and image-heavy.

Edward Elswood is Ches’s father, the core owner and CEO of a multi-billion dollar luxury goods conglomerate and very much so a workaholic. He doesn’t actually see his children very often, the only time Ches actually sees him face to face now is during major holidays and events. Even his children still at home get phone calls more often than actual conversations. She’s the youngest of the Elswood children that can still vividly remember what life was like before her mother’s death, before he stopped making time to see his children. Her relationship with the man feels quite tense, he loves her, but he’s extremely disappointed in her life choices. She still holds enough weight to be able to whisper in her father’s ear if she really needs something, a fact she unfortunately still hasn’t quite realized, but she is far from the favorite Elswood child. (Parent Ages/Birthdays? You’re lucky they have a FC: Patrick Dempsey)

Ches’s mother, Julia Elswood, was born and raised in Paris, France, where she met and fell in love with her husband. Before her death, she was very much the light of the Elswood home, the sound of laughter followed her when she ended the room. A warm feeling of safety and peace. It actually boggles Ches’s mind whenever her grandparents tell her that she’s the Elswood child who reminds them most of their late daughter, her mother was so good, and Ches is so flawed in comparison. She has a very hard time letting her mother go, perhaps due to the fact she was the only Elswood child with their mother when she died. She can never forget the gunshot, being unable to help stop the bleeding no matter what she had done. Even after nearly ten years, Julia’s death haunts her daughter’s dreams. (Death Date: July 19th, 2010, FC: Isla Fisher)

Logan is the oldest of the Elswood children and the oldest son. When their mother died, he was being groomed to take over for their father someday, but the loss of Julia left behind a four-year-old and a baby without a mother, a daughter with constant nightmares, and three younger brothers who needed a hand to guide them. In many ways, Logan became his siblings' parent after they lost their mother, first switching to homeschooling and then outright dropping out once he was old enough to. Ches loves and admires Logan a lot, hearing she disappointed him would be way more crushing then her father being disappointed in her ever could dream of being. She also worries about him a lot, given his cocaine addiction and overdose. While she believes him when he says he’s doing well, she checks in constantly. (Age: 24, Birthday: May 28th, FC: Will Tudor)

Jamie Elswood is the second oldest of the Elswood children, and the one Ches dislikes the most. Her father wishes they’d get along, after all - Jamie is his pride and joy, nothing he did should be bad enough to divide the family. Maybe that’d be true if Jamie hadn’t slept with James, the first boyfriend Ches ever truly loved. She doubts she’ll ever get along with him again, and that’s perfectly okay by her. As long as he remains studying at Yale and stays out of her way, she has no complaints. The second he breathes near her, however, she’s lashing out at him constantly and trying her hardest to keep him away from anyone she actually likes. (Age: 21, Birthday: April 5th, FC: Sam Claflin)

Out of all Ches’s siblings, there’s no one she is closer to than Emmett. Sometimes it feels like he’s the only out of them who truly gets her and why she does some of the things she does. He’s flawed, a black sheep just like her, and she never wants to imagine a world where he isn’t just a video call away. Whether they’re talking about everything going on in their lives, or they’re listening to music when words fail - she’s thankful to have a sibling like him. He’s her “emotional support human,” and she’s his, and she can’t see that changing anytime soon. These two tend to go on vacations together whenever it’s possible to, and Ches talks to him multiple times daily. It’s not uncommon to catch them texting up a storm during the day, either in the group chat Ches has with a few of her friends or one on one. It was actually Ches introduced him to his girlfriend, Camellia, after the two girls met at a fashion week party. (Age: 20, Birthday: September 9th, FC: Luke Baines)

Jonah is the older of the two Elswood twins, the one Ches has decided is the better twin out of the two of them. At one point the two were extremely close, they were born only minutes apart, they were very rarely apart when they were younger - it was easy for them to be close at that point in their lives. Then, the events of their 8th birthday occurred, and the two grew apart. In ways, the twins are extremely different. Jonah is almost like a walking, breathing Thomas Sanders vine, while Ches is a mess of complicated chaos. They still talk often and hang out a lot when Ches is home, but Jonah and her could go weeks without talking and still be perfectly fine. (Age: 17, Birthday: July 19th (TWIN), FC: Cameron Monaghan)

Nothing about being at Luxor pains Ches more than being away from her younger sisters (and her niece, Belle). In many ways, Ches took on an almost maternal figure for the girls, and even after four years, the ache she feels if she doesn’t talk to them daily eats her alive. Effie is the older of her two younger sisters, and she never fails to brighten Ches’s day when she calls home. It was Ches who bought Jerome, Effie’s Flemish Giant (and one true love if anyone asks the girl). Whether or not Effie is explaining the laws of science dragons would likely follow if they existed or chatting her ear off about the latest play she went to go see with friends, Ches looks forward to the girl’s calls. That doesn’t mean there aren’t concerns, however - Effie is currently going through therapy for an eating disorder, and the concept of someone she loves so much going through that kills Ches. This isn’t something she can protect the girl from or fix, the only thing she can do is be supportive, and it kills her. (Age 14, Birthday: October 31st, FC: Madisen Beaty)

Ella is the youngest out of the Elswood children, still about a year old when Julia died. Ches knows her baby sister isn’t the biggest fan of her being away and the fact she was stuck at Luxor over the summer has only increased the requests that Ches just come home instead of staying her senior year. It’s part of why, Ches is so scared to tell her family she turned down her acceptance to Columbia to stay at Luxor and attend the new college program, because she knows just how disappointed her sister will be. It’s not uncommon for Ches to leave the room to call Ella at night to ask her about what she’s missing in the girl’s life and wish her goodnight, nor is it uncommon for Ella and Effie to wake up to presents sent to them from their sister. Ches may be apart from them, but she’s trying her best to ensure they know she didn’t abandon them. (Age: 10, Birthday: November 11th, FC: Sadie Sink)

Isabelle, or Belle as Logan has been calling the baby, is the newest addition to the Elswood family. The girl was found on the Elswood’s stoop one morning, with a letter from Logan’s ex-girlfriend explaining the child was his. Logan didn’t question it, only taking a paternity test and confirming because Edward threatened to disown him. When Logan overdosed and Ches came home, it was her who ended up taking care of the girl while Logan was away, as she was doing her studies independently at home while she was away. It bothers Ches, missing out on so much, no matter how often she video calls the baby. (Date of Birth: July 10th, 2019. Dropped off on the Elswood’s doorstep on July 28th. FC: I really don’t like giving babies fcs so Imma not)

Camellia Lima (might as well be Elswood - in Ches’s opinion) is Emmett’s girlfriend and one of Ches’s closest friends. A Victoria’s Secret Angel and the daughter of a world-famous wildlife photographer, Camellia actually met Ches during a fashion week party at the start of her modeling career. The two girls hit it off right away, and they’ve been close ever since. In fact, Ches is the one who introduced her brother to her, expecting them to be good friends and being pleasantly surprised when they started dating. Ches doesn’t often mention to her friends at school just who Camellia is but anyone who follows Ches on any social media could figure it out within seconds, they constantly post stories of each other, comment on each other’s posts, and facetime to talk about everything going on in their lives. There’s even been a few times Camellia, Emmett, and Ches have been spotted together hanging out in Lake George when she has time to come up and visit. In a lot of ways, Cam is the big sister Ches never had growing up - and she can’t wait until the day Camellia actually is an Elswood. (Age: 20, Birthday: August 24th, FC: Sara Sampaio)

#musings #musings: Elswood Fam #luxortasks #Balo's is pretty much done too tbh I need to finish up Grace's #and after that it's BEDTIME holy shit this took me all days guys #if there's typos it's 4 am and I no longer care so if I notice them after I sleep they'll get fixed then #death tw #murder tw #drugs tw #eating disorder tw #hopefully I didn't forget any more tags #shit I am so tired #alcohol tw

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ghostofviperwrites · 5 years ago

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Peace

Requested by: @dahlia-blossom

Pairing: Minoru Suzuki/FC

Category: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 1278

Warnings: language, arguing, mentions of punishment

22. “Did I do something wrong?”

On the surface nothing seemed out of place. You had a smile on your face and you were chatting away with your friends as if you didn’t have a care in the world. If Minoru didn’t know you so well he would think nothing was wrong as you dug into your spring salad and sipped on your tea. Fact was he did know you well. He saw the little jump in your pinky you always got when you were angry. The clenching of your teeth. Minoru noticed the white in your knuckles as you held your fork a bit too tightly for everything to be fine.

No, he knew everything was not fine. What was throwing him off was that he didn’t know what had upset you. Things had been fine until about ten minutes ago. All morning you had been excited for this luncheon. He hadn’t heard or seen anything out of the ordinary to have angered you and he had been watching you closely as he always did. Fascinated by your beauty he could watch you for hours, so he had been sitting back enjoying you in your element with a smile on his face as he sipped on his beer.

Your anger remained the rest of the lunch and through the goodbyes and Minoru watched you closely enough to determine that it wasn’t any of your friends who had angered you. Without a word to him you grabbed your purse and walked off the patio leaving him to settle the bill and hurry after you.

When he caught up to you down the block his own anger was igniting, grabbing your arm and forcing you to stop and look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked trying to keep his temper in check as the two of you stood on the public walkway.

“Fuck you MiSu!” You snapped. “Like you even have to ask.” Snatching your arm away you strode angrily towards the penthouse building up the street where you resided with Minoru, leaving him staring after you on the sidewalk.

He watched you disappear into the building not moving an inch as he worked to calm himself. There was no way he was letting you getting away with that blatant show of respect. Punishment would be severe; you knew the rules, but first he had to figure out what had you so fired up and whether your anger was justified. The fact that you seemed to think it was obvious had him off balance. He hadn’t done anything but answer questions politely and drink his beer.

Minoru found you in the bedroom, standing before the vanity mirror and angrily throwing your earrings onto the counter.

“Is there a reason you’re treating the things I’ve bought for you so carelessly?” The query was calmly issued, almost nonchalant in nature but it caught your attention making you watch him in the mirror as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his button down shirt and rolled them up to his elbows.

You knew what that meant. You were in trouble. Which wasn’t fair. He was the one who messed up. Not you.

“Maybe because you treated me so carelessly.” You sniffed stubbornly, deliberately pulling off your necklace and flinging it to the table.

“That’s enough!” Minoru snapped sharply as he strode across the room. Before you knew it he had your face pressed to the mirror of the vanity his hand heavy on the back of your neck. “I do not tolerate disrespect!”

“Then don’t disrespect me!” You argued not letting him bully you into compliance. “I refuse to give respect to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“If I had any idea at all as to what you’re carrying on about I may be inclined to cut you some slack.” Minoru hissed squeezing your neck a little tighter. “Given I am clueless do you care to enlighten me?”

Your cheek ached from being pressed to the glass and Minoru’s grip wasn’t helping your discomfort as you strained to look at him in a pitiful attempt to glare.

“You were throwing yourself at Jana.” You said sullenly. The utter confusion on Minoru’s face had you rethinking your assessment of the situation. You had been so sure he was flirting with her, blatantly and right in front of you that your anger had run away with you.

“I don’t know, nor do I care who Jana is.” Minoru said frostily. “You are my woman. You are the only woman I want. Haven’t I made it clear that I do not condone cheating on either end?”

You nodded in his grip remembering to the early days of your relationship with Minoru where he succinctly laid out his expectations. Honesty and loyalty were the two key words thrown about. He didn’t tolerate lying and he expected complete fidelity on both of your parts. You could still remember how coldly he told you when he wanted another woman you would be out the door before he made any overtures.

“I attempt to carry one polite conversation with your companions and you accuse me of lusting after them.” Minoru said. “Then you blatantly disrespect me in public no less.”

“I’m sorry,” You whispered apologetically. “I didn’t mean to lash out.”

Minoru’s hand loosened on my neck and he pulled my face from the mirror making me bend over the vanity with my forearms resting on the surface. Dress pushed up and panties pulled down my ass was bared and I braced myself for the punishment I rightfully deserved.

I stared at my tearstained face in the mirror as Minoru pulled his belt free the ominous whoosh making my heart beat faster as I prepared for the blow.

A blow which never came.

Looking at Minoru in the mirror I met his eyes which were filled with some indecipherable emotion as he dropped the belt to the ground.

“I’m not going to punish you.” Minoru said with finality.

I slowly pushed from position turning to look at him with confusion. Never before had he halted a punishment. There was no doubt I had earned this one.

“Why not?” I asked shakily.

“I’ve failed you. I haven’t made you sure of me.” Minoru said quietly. “The fact that me simply talking to another woman got you so worked up and out of sorts shows I’m lacking in proving myself to you.”

“No MiSu,” I protested vehemently. “You show me every day. I know you love me. I don’t know why I freaked out. Please. Punish me. I deserve it.”

That brought a small smile to his face and he chuckled softly as he looked down at me.

“You’re begging for a punishment?” He asked laughing louder when I nodded. “Well then, I’m definitely not punishing you. Not if you want it.” He teased making me smile.

He held his arms open and I quickly stepped into them inhaling his scent as he held me close.

“I’m sorry.” He said into my hair. “I won’t ever leave you feeling so insecure again that you have cause to doubt me.”

“I‘m sorry too.” I said into his chest. “You’ve given me no reason to think you would ever stray and I should have talked to you rather than throwing a tantrum.”

Instead of the violent punishment I had felt was coming, we spent the night making love in our bed reaffirming our feelings and our relationship.

As we fell asleep, sated in each other’s arms, it was in peace that had seemed impossible just a few short hours ago.

#minoru suzuki fanfic #minoru Suzuki imagine #njpw fanfic #Wrestling Fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

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hollowedrpg · 6 years ago

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CONGRATULATIONS, EMILY! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Dorcas Meadowes. My favorite part of your application was your description of how Dorcas interacts with customers, because how she interacts with customers at the Three Broomsticks has a direct tie to how she interacts with everyone else. It really provided a nice snapshot of how you saw her personality and how you’d write her in-game, and I have complete faith you’ll do her justice.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: Emily

age: (seventeen and up only) 28 years old

preferred pronouns: she/her

timezone: pacific activity: on a scale of 1-10? I’d say probably hovering around a seven. I work full time and am a mother of two, but my job is really flexible, so I float around a lot and I lurk on my dash a TON.

are you applying for more than one character?: just Dorcas—for now. I’m tempted for others, but I’m putting my eggs in a basket, which is nerve wracking.

how do you feel about your character dying?: Well, that’s exciting and terrifying and definitely something that I would do myself if I was moderating, so fair question!

anything else?: (questions, concerns, etc.) Honestly, I absolutely love the look of this roleplay (not that you’re surprised by that at all I’m sure, I mean, you gave me little teasers to try and kill me anyways [don’t you dare think that I didn’t read the plotline when you sent me that darn HTML girl]) and I’m so excited to watch this blossom and bloom.

ic details.

full name: Dorcas Evelyn Meadowes

date of birth: canonly, unknown; April 23

former hogwarts house: Hufflepuff

sexuality: bi-sexual

gender/pronouns: (would you like to play this character as non-binary or trans? list it here.) she/her

face claim change: (if you’re requesting to change this character’s fc, list three alternatives in order of preference. all alternatives must be approved by the admin.) I love the face you picked, so I’m game for that.

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Personality - Quality over quantity had been ingrained in her since she was young -- certainly because of the fact that sometimes in Quidditch it was better to just let the damn snitch go rather than catching it and letting your team lose. As a result, sometimes she might not be the most efficient barmaid, but she definitely was a favored one because she took the time to chat with the old guy that came in after his granddaughters Quidditch match or the young ones that were probably at the Three Broomsticks for the first time when it came to a drink. She gets along with people and is more than willing to grin and flirt if she needs to but mostly she’s more than willing to have a listening ear to those that want to talk, or that need a little bit of a nudge in the right direction to talk.

Playing - The ideal will be more soft spoken -- she’ll let people talk to her and she’ll open her ear so she’s able to listen to whatever it is that they’re going to talk about on that particular day. Flirting might be a necessity when it comes to being a barmaid, Dorcas certainly isn’t unfamiliar with that and is willing to take the few extra seconds on a patron for the good company and a decent tip, sometimes in more ways than just monetary. In public she certainly doesn’t go through and show a bias one direction or another in this war -- doing such would spell trouble for her in the long run and wouldn’t make people on Voldemort’s side feel as though they could share with her. Still, she doesn’t tend towards loud and boisterous unless the situation calls for it, and that is certainly once every blue moon.

+Driven

+Charismatic

-Spontaneous

-Perfectionistic

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

While it might not have her as hard in the face until recently just how bad this war could go, it wasn’t as though Dorcas could pretend to be oblivious. Between the patrons within the pub and fact that people were willing to spill more information to an open ear than they might to the next individual to approach them? Well, Dorcas had heard her fair share of stories from both sides of this war and neither of them were a pleasant experience for everyone’s man in the apartment next to them. Her life wasn’t necessarily privileged, but it certainly had it’s advantages above some of her former classmates and the worst thing that she had to experience was the fact that her parents had a certain standard that she had to achieve in Quidditch in order to be the right kind of Meadowes.

While the stress of the war didn’t seem real to her until the recent attack, with friends missing and nothing known as to their whereabouts? Well, she couldn’t completely pretend that she wasn’t more than a little afraid of what this would end up bringing in the end, whether it would mean a shift in how the wizarding world ended up moving forward or if it was just a flux. Still, it’d lead to every bit of quiet in the pub and the weeks after the attack the owl post had been eerily quiet while everyone tried to cope. Mostly though? Well -- now she was just frustrated that she wasn’t doing more, that she was back in London while everyone else coped with the losses while she was buried in piles of mail and firewhiskey. Still, if she was caught, she didn’t particularly dwell on what it would mean for her in the future.

Where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? Why?

While Dorcas understands the break needed to recoup and evaluate what it was that needed to be done moving forward, to say that she’d be okay with using Godric’s Hollow as a hiding place would be a mistake. While she might not be in the direct action, she also wasn’t going to pretend that she was oblivious to the fact that there seemed to be more activity the longer that things continued. Something needed to be done and for what little she might know, she knew that hiding probably shouldn’t be on the list of discussion topics on how to help fight against Voldemort. Remaining still certainly had never done her any good over the years, that was something that she was certain of.

What’s some of the most interesting things Dorcas has learned while working at an owl post office?

Her personal favorite certainly was something accidentally stumbled upon that isn’t even of use to the Order with two high ranking ministry officials apparently having an ongoing affair together. While she’ll certainly never use this one to her advantage? Well, it definitely is amusing now when people mention their names together.

Another one of them was the reality of pieces to a puzzle being put together after the attack on the Order. By far the least productive measure that she had taken, but the most telling in the span of who had known that at least there was something that was going to be happening, Dorcas found that the reality was that there were likely far more people that had been involved with Voldemort than people realized, even if most of them were surface level.

How does she feel about continuing the task of working there and opening mail while most of the order hides in Godric’s Hollow?

Depending on the day, she can be frustrated and also be proud all in the same breath. While it meant that there were pieces of trust in her ability to work without anyone else around her, it certainly also made her feel more than a bit alienated from the rest of the group and occasionally a little bit clueless as to what was going on back in Godric’s Hollow. It certainly hadn’t made the situation easier, but it definitely did make her realize that she couldn’t go through and just pretend that the world was fine when the people that she was around most were trying to figure out the future of their organization.

#hp rp #rp #marauders rp #lsrpg #roleplay #accepted

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julia-highstorms · 6 years ago

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The Third Park (Damien x OC (Ellie)) - Part 4

Summary: Damien takes Ellie on a night out drinking at his fave pub, Archer and Hopps... And of course it calls for the Nazario Chug!

Note: (most) characters belong to Pixelberry Studios. Damien is 100% human in here and Male!MC (Allen). Damien’s fc (Santiago Cabrera) gifs by @flynnomalleys and Ellie’s fc (Ni Ni) by @thanhpls. Link to previous parts

Pairing: Damien x OC (Ellie)

Rating: PG-13 (language/alcohol)

Tagging: @flynnomalleys @boneandfur @damienazariostan @client327 @never-ending-choices @dangerous-capri15 @goirishsunshine @walkerismychoice @laniquelove @parkerattano @bluediamondsapphire @wa-reva @her-imperial-hangman-s @endlesswoods @confessionsofabrokegirl @odetomars @suckmydestielobsessedassbutt @clarissafics @kennaxval @thequeenchoices If you would like to be tagged, tell me!

Word count: 3400

As he said, Damien worked the rest of the Monday and Tuesday too, until it was almost time to go meet with Eleanor. Although he tried to act normal, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't excited about it. It felt like years since he had been out on a proper date…

Wait. Was it a date?

No, they were just going to get a few drinks and chit chat.

...Hell, it sounded like a date.

Fuck.

Oh, whatever.

God, why was he feeling so nervous?

Since he lived close to Allen's apartment, he walked all the way there. He was approaching his friend's building when he saw a lone figure standing in front of it. When Eleanor saw him, she walked towards him, meeting him halfway.

"Good night." - she greeted him with a smile that made his heart leap a little.

"Good night. Uh… You look nice. Red really is your color." - she was wearing a simple red sweater and jeans, but she looked elegant anyway.

"Thank you. You don't look bad yourself. It's nice to see you sober for a change." - she chuckled as Damien rolled his eyes.

"Shall we?" - he offered her his elbow, which she accepted, an eyebrow raised.

"Charming. So, where are we going?"

"There's this nearby pub, Archer and Hopps. They serve great food there, besides drinks."

"Good, because I'm starving. Alright, lead the way!"

Chandeliers hanged from the ceiling, and there were classy leather booths lined across the room. As they entered the pub, the bartender called for Damien from behind the bar.

"Back already, Nazario? What are you moping about this time?" - but then, his eyes laid on the woman laughing next to Damien. - "Oh, this is new. It's been a while since you've come here accompanied." - Damien growled, wanting to disappear. The only other person who he brought there was Allen, more than two years ago. - "Nice to meet you, I'm Flynn."

"Eleanor, but you can call me Ellie." - she greeted him back. - "You didn't tell me you were a regular here, Damien." - she turned to him, squeezing his arm playfully, making the bartender laugh.

Damien's faced turned a shade pinker as he cleared his throat and asked for a drink:

"I would like a beer and a burger." - Flynn and Eleanor chuckled with his embarrassment. - "You?" - he asked her.

"Me too."

"Alright." - Flynn gave Damien their beers. - "Two burgers coming up. You two make yourselves comfortable."

Although it was a Tuesday night, the place was lively and packed, so they decided to sit in the stools by the bar counter, side by side.

"So you came here after Allen's and Nadia's weddings? To mope around?" - Damien sighed loudly. He knew she wouldn't let him get away from it.

"Yeah..." - he took a sip of his beer, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

When he put the bottle down, her hand squeezed his softly.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm being nosey again."

He let out a low sigh.

"No, it's okay. I should have gotten over it by now. Besides, I was pretty aware that things wouldn't work between me and him." - she nodded, letting him take it all out of his chest. - "And I did say that I would understand if he wanted to be just friends. But it's easier said than done. Hell, I've always said that emotions shouldn't get the better of us, and yet, look where I am… Still moping around, two years later."

Ellie kept holding his hand, her thumb massaging his knuckles. Nadia had told her that Damien had feelings towards Allen, but she didn't know that they were that strong. And that was why he looked so miserable during the wedding. She felt sorry for him.

She decided to change the subject. It was her own little mission to make Damien not think about Allen that night.

“So, you're a private investigator." - she said, drinking her own beer. He nodded. - "So this means that you’re paid to peep in other people’s lives? I don’t know if this is a dream job or an actual nightmare."

“You seem too much interested on my job.” - he arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

"Well, you're the first detective that I met and I'm a big fan of Agatha Christie." - she shrugged. - "But you don’t seem like a guy who cares much about what other people do or don’t, to be honest.” “And this is why I am so good at it.” - he answered and she saw a small grin tugging on the corner of his lips. That was a good sign. “Cocky. Alright, can you tell me which was your most interesting case?"

"Well… I was asked to take a look after a foreign royal who was having a forbidden affair with a 'commoner'—"

"Oh my God. Are you talking about King Liam of Cordonia?!" - Ellie beamed on her seat.

"I can't confirm you this. You know, private investigator conduct and everything." - she let out a frustrated sigh, making him chuckle. - "Why? Big fan of the royalty?"

"Are you kidding me?! I followed everything! Since they announced that there was an American suitor running for King Liam's hand during that social season! Then the leaked photos of Lady Riley and the other nobleman! Ugh, I can't wait for the royal wedding!" - Damien laughed with her excitement. She was cute. "Anyway, enough about my work. What about you? Did your boss send you new work to do? Or did she finally leave you alone?"

"I wish! My boss is always sending me more work to do. But I told her that I'll check everything on Monday, when I go back from my vacation. I've been too focused on my work for the last couple of years. I deserve a break."

"Bold move. But you're right."

"I know." - they clinked their beers as Flynn approached them with their food.

They'd been at Archer and Hopps for almost two hours. The burgers were long gone and there were a few empty drinks in front of them, both feeling a little lighter and happier. Their laughter filled the place.

“I still can’t believe they’re both married to robots!“ - Eleanor laughed hysterically as if that was the joke of the century. - “Oh my God." - she looked at Damien with wide eyes. - "Is the sex that good?”

“Don’t look at me. I have no idea how it is and I’m not planning on finding that out.” - but she kept murmuring to herself:

“...Must be it. I mean, Nadia is more traditional when it comes about love and sex and she had been let down countless of times by douchebags before. So I kind of understand why she fell so fast and hard for Steve, her 'Perfect Match', since he was entirely and exclusively designed for her. Allen, on the other hand, I've always kind of knew that he's more adventurous... I know what he meant when he said that he did some experiments during college involving handcuffs... but I’ve never thought he was that open, you know? To the point to marry a robot. And that he was so kinky.” - suddenly, her eyes laid on the man next to her again. - “What if the robots.... vibrate down there? They must have some kind of, I don’t know, an erotical device there!” - Damien couldn't hold back a laugh with her wonder.

“Are you curious now? Do you want to try it?”

“Hell no.” - she grabbed her beer and turned it down.

“Why not? Maybe you should be more open-minded. Like your cousins.”

“Please. I’ve watched enough movies to know that robots and humans are not a good thing to be together. Besides, I’m just into humans.”

“Oh yeah?” - Damien didn’t notice that he scooped closer to her. She nodded, her brown eyes darker, a side smile on her lips. - “What kind of human?”

“I don't know..." - she shrugged. - "I like to let my options open.”

“And are you seeing any human at the moment?”

Wow. Real subtle, Damien.

“No. I’ve been super single for almost two years now. Just random hookups with strangers at bars...” - she shrugged again. - “The last ‘relationship’ that I had was with this girl named Eva. We’ve been dating for a few months when I found out that she was taking my money without my consent. Of course I broke up with her. And before her I dated this dude who cheated on me with my neighbor. One day I was going to work and he walked out of the door from the other side of the hall. Jerk. And he tried to tell me that she was her cousin! But my neighbor heard it and then we both broke up with him at the same time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s okay, it was a long time ago, anyway.” - Ellie shrugged. - “What about you? Seeing someone?”

He let out a low chuckle.

“I wish. But I had my fair share of bad relationships, too."

"Oh yeah, Nadia told me about an ex-girlfriend of yours, this Interpol agent that helped you all take down Eros... Alana, right?”

"Dammit, Nadia. What else did she tell you?"

"Everything, I believe. Allen invited Alana to the wedding but she didn’t came...”

“Thank God.”

“I know she’s your ex... but why? You didn’t want to see her again? Allen respected her, even after that ‘betrayal’.”

“Allen is more forgiving than me. I guess you’re aware of that.”

She nodded, letting out a sigh.

“What a shame. I was looking forward to meet her. She sounded interesting. And gorgeous. Nadia showed me a picture of her. You were a very good looking couple. Can I meet her someday?”

“If you think I’ll introduce you to her, then you must be dreaming. Alana is dangerous.”

“I’m a grown up woman, 'D'." - she called him the nickname Nadia gave him. - "I know how to take care of myself.”

“Okay, if you happen to meet her, don’t come crying to me after she breaks your little heart, 'Ellie'.”

She giggled, leaning closer to him, her eyes longing on his.

“Hey...” - her breath was hot against his skin. - “help me.” - before Damien could know what was happening, he felt Eleanor's hand on one of his forearms to steady herself as she stood up from her seat. - “Wait for me. I need to freshen up.” - and she wobbled towards the toilet.

Eleanor was back after a few minutes, and Damien wondered if she brushing her body against his was by accident or not, when she went back to the stool next to him. “Okay, I’m back! Where were we?”

"Hey you two. Having fun?" - Flynn approached them, pouring two shots of dark rum for each of them.

"Oh my God..." - Damien muttered, knowing what was about to happen.

"What is this?" - Eleanor asked, curious about the deck of cards the bartender put on the counter, next to their drinks.

"I introduce you the Nazario Chug. Damien will tell you how it works." - the man grinned and slipped away.

"Nazario Chug? You have a game named after you?" - she asked, trying to not laugh at his face.

"Why? Feeling intimidated that I'll win?" - Eleanor concluded that Damien was already fully under the influence of the alcohol, based on his stupidly charming cocky grin.

"Hell no! Bring it on!" - she shouted, rubbing her hands against each other, excitedly. Damien chuckled and explained her how the game worked:

"You take the top card. Black means dare, red means truth. If you fail or want to dodge your task, you drink according to the number on the card. Ready?" - Eleanor flipped the first card. Seven of Hearts. - "Truth. When you went all the way to my house to ask me for Allen's password... Was it just an excuse to see me?" - she chuckled.

“Well, I actually needed that password. But… I won't lie that I liked to see you again. I wanted to get to know you better.” - she said, her eyes glancing on his lips.

"Me too." - they leaned closer, drawn to each other. They kept staring at each other for a minute, before Ellie pulled out and drank a shot (even though she had already played her turn):

"Hey, it's your turn, D." - she bumped her shoulder against his, playfully.

He flipped the next top card.

"Truth again." "Alright. So, is this a date? Or what?"

"I don't know. What do you think it is?" - he answered, with a smirk.

"Hey, it's not me who has to answer this question, it's you, Mr. Nazario. Or you answer it or you take four shots now."

"Well, I'll say that this is a date, then. What do you think about it?"

"If you say so..." - she chuckled, flipping another card.

"Nine of Clubs, and black means Dare. Finally." - he said with a satisfying and devilish grin.

"Oh no!" - Ellie shouted, laughing loudly. - "Alright, shoot."

"I dare you to go to the restroom and come out again and pretend you're so drunk that you end up bumping on the first person that you meet."

"What? This is stupid. What if this person get mad at me and I end up in trouble? Why would you want this?"

"Don't worry about it, if someone wish to start a fight, I'll be there to intervene. Now go. Unless you're a coward..."

Those were the right words, because Ellie simply stood up (after taking a shot for encouragement) and marched to the restroom. Damien watched her walking out of it a few seconds later, wobbling around.

She bumped hard on a man leaning against a wall nearby. She pretended to almost fall, but he grabbed her quickly, steadying her again.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" - she shouted a little too loud, so Damien could hear it. He held a laugh back. She clearly was forcing it. - "Are you okay?!"

"I'm good. What about you?" - the dark haired man on a leather jacket answered her. - “My name’s Jax, by the way.” - he answered with a grin. A grin full of second intentions to Damien’s opinion.

“I'm good too, Jax.” - clearly Ellie appreciated the man right in front of her, since she started playing with her own hair and leaned closer to him. - “Thank you for saving me...” - Damien walked towards them in a few hurried paces. He tried to be both gentle and firm when he put his hand on her shoulder.

“Ellie.” - he said, his eyes locked on the man in front of him.

“D!” - she shouted happily, throwing her arms around his shoulder. - “Come meet my new friend and savior, Jax! Jax, this is my other not so new friend, Damien!”

“Nice to meet you.” - Jax said, smiling at him.

“Likewise. We have to go now.” - he turned to her.

“Already? I thought we could have some fun with Jax here… What do you think, Jax?”

“It would be nice.” - he answered, his smile widening. Damien didn’t like the way his eyes shined.

“I’m sorry, we have to go know. We have a place to go, do you remember it, Ellie?” - Eleanor wanted to protest, but then Damien put his arm around her waist protectively, pulling her closer.

And she wanted him to do it the whole night, and he was calling her her nickname (yep, she knew it was a way to show Jax that he was closer to her than he was), and his body was so hot against hers… That she thought to herself 'okay, girl, some nights you just can't have everything. Or everyone'.

“Oh, okay. You’re right. I’m sorry, we gotta go." - she said, leaning closer to Damien's embrace. - "But maybe another night, Jax.” - she smiled mischievously at him.

“I’d like that.” - Damien definitely didn’t like the way that man looked at her. It was almost predatory. Damien pulled Eleanor away before she could say goodbye to her “new friend”.

"Alright, enough about this game tonight." - he whispered as they headed towards the pub's door.

"Why? I was starting to like it! Maybe Jax could join us..." - Ellie kept talking, teasingly.

"This is out of question."

He paid for their dinner, said goodbye to Flynn and pulled Eleanor outside the pub, his hand still on the small of her back.

“You know, jealousy is not a very attractive feature, 'Big D'. You ruined my night with that gorgeous ma—”

“Who told you?” - he asked abruptly, pulling away from her.

“What?” - Ellie immediately missed his touch. God, was she that touch deprived?

“The nickname.”

He saw a devilish grin spreading on her face.

“Nadia, of course.”

“I’ll kill her when she’s back...” - he muttered to himself. He went on a night out with Nadia and Allen and might have drunk a little too much and said that he liked to call himself “Big D” when he was younger... because of that stupid and weird fixation that boys had with their own dicks. Yes. And Nadia never let him hear the end of it. - “Anyway, it’s late. I’ll walk you home.”

They chatted all the way to Allen’s apartment, arm in arm.

“Well, that was it. Just another glimpse of a New Yorker experience: the Nazario edition.” - he said, as they stopped in front of the red bricks building.

“That was fun. Thank you for spending your time with me, D. I know you have real work to do and it’s not babysitting me. So I mean it when I say thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all. And I’d like to thank you too. For being patient with me and listening to me whining.”

“It’s okay, I was told before that I’m a great listener.” - he chuckled.

“Have people told you that you’re conceited too?”

“A couple of times, I guess.” - they shared a laugh. - “But this never stopped them from liking me.”

She dangerously approached him, with that mischievous shine on her eyes and that sly grin that he knew too well by now. Damien knew that he should turn around and go away.

Don’t get involved with another Park.

But, hell, he should have done it the day before, and here they were. Walking back from a date.

It seemed that he was unable to reasoning when Eleanor Zhou was around.

Before he knew it, he felt her lips on his cheek, bringing him back to his senses. He looked at her, and for the first time she had this coyly smile on her beautiful face. Seeing that he didn’t pulled out, Ellie closed the distance between them, cupping her hands around Damien’s face and leaned in, kissing his mouth this time.

He hesitated for a single second, before his lips kissed her back hungrily, almost desperately, as his arms pulled her close by her waist, pressing her body tightly against his. Her hands were already on his hair, pulling it possessively and excitedly, while she deepened the kiss. She let out a low groan against his lips, that made his blood boil.

“...I’ve been thinking of doing this since you cornered me on the wedding.” - he said when they needed air, his voice sounding hoarse.

“To be honest, me too. Took you long enough, D.” - she whispered back as her hands rested on his firm chest, feeling his heart beating fast and hard, like hers. - "...I better go now. Good night." - the sensation of his warmth enveloping her as he held her was nice, but she pulled out of his embrace, after a last peck.

"Aren't you going to let me in…?"

"If we were in my house… Yeah. But this is Allen's apartment. Wouldn't it be... weird?"

Fuck. She was right.

"We could go to my flat..." - she let out a loud laugh.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Well, you're a fucking tease. You think I didn’t notice that you’ve been teasing me the whole night? Touching me ‘innocently’ and flirting with a stranger right in front of me.”

“Well, if I didn’t do it, you would have never kissed me.”

...She was right again. Fuck, was he that obvious? Or was is because she could read him so well?

“You’re an evil woman, Ellie. Do you know that? Making me all worked up like this to leave me alone in the end." - she giggled again.

"Take a cold shower, Nazario." - she patted his shoulder before walking indoors and leaving him alone in the street.

#the third park #damien nazario #damien x oc #perfect match #playchoices #perfect match au #perfect match fanfic #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #long post

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merrylittlehogwartsrp · 6 years ago

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Happy Holidays, Elva! We are thrilled to “invite” Neville Longbottom (fc Justice Smith) back to Hogsmeade for a little forced Winter Cheer. We loved the short evocative notes in your app that clearly put to mind 7th year as well as where Neville is today.

Please pack your bags and send in your tumblr. Additional information can be found here!

OOC DETAILS:

NICKNAME: Elva

AGE (must be 18+): twenties

PRONOUNS: she/her, they/them

ACTIVITY ESTIMATE: I check the dash daily, and try to post at least once daily, though sometimes replies take me a little longer to write.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

FULL NAME & NICKNAMES: Neville Longbottom

BIRTHDATE: July 30th, 1980

BLOOD-STATUS: Pureblood

* GENDER IDENTITY: Cisgender male

* GENDER PRESENTATION/PRONOUNS: Male, he/him

* SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pan-Demi Sexual

CHARACTER SITUATION:

OCCUPATION:

Auror. After the battle of Hogwarts, there was little life could throw at Neville that he wasn’t ready for. After early graduation from Hogwarts, Neville went straight into work as an Auror. He’d already fought the battle that ended the war; he passed his training with flying colours, better than any exam he sat at Hogwarts. Neville is proud to have brought many a Death Eater to justice, but the job is wearing on him. If he’s honest, it was wearing from the start, only he was more used to it then. It was war and so what if he was tired if he was still alive and kicking? But the war ended three years ago. Why is it they’re still fighting? Neville needs a change of pace. He needs what his parents never got the chance to have, a life beyond being an Auror. He needs quiet, time to be in his garden, and he doubts the Department of Mysteries can offer that, but even if there’s just a small chance it’s better he has to try, right?

HOUSING:

Neville rents a small two-bedroom cottage in the middle of nowhere, outside Norwich. It’s easy enough to get to if you possess magic, meaning despite having no neighbours it’s not remote by a long shot, but the space is a necessity for Neville, who dreams of having a large garden. The garden is there, but Neville wouldn’t deign to call it one yet on account of the weeds that have wreaked havoc on it. He simply hasn’t had enough time to work on it, between his job and catching up with the DA. Each time Neville steps outside his door he’s confronted with his shame; for neglecting his plants, for taking so long to figure out this life he’s built isn’t for him anymore, shame for avoiding his own unhappiness, all so he doesn’t have to admit to Gran and the rest of the world that he can’t go on being the grandson or the wizard they all want him to be.

SOCIAL STANDING:

Being a pureblood on the right side of the war, not to mention a celebrity, Neville’s social standing is pretty good. Of course, Neville is oblivious. He doesn’t put much store in such matters. It’s all nonsense; doesn’t actually say the first thing about you. But if he looked at the facts, son of an Auror who became an Auror himself, he would guess he was relatively successful, and he knows people treat him differently now (Gran does, that’s for sure). But enough of the boy who was “practically a squib” remains that he doesn’t recognise his worth in the eyes of others. And he doesn’t let himself think about it either, lest he slip back into old habits. He values himself, finally, and for the most part that’s enough.

CHARACTER CONFIGURATION:

TALENTS/WEAKNESSES

+ Herbology, Duelling, Negotiation and Leadership.

- Potions, Flying, Lying

STRENGTHS/FLAWS

+ Courageous, Resolute, Kind

- Still clumsy (yes, he did just spill this tray of four mugs of tea over the entire sofa), Insecure (Neville isn’t only trying to live up to his parents’ accomplishments, but who he has been these past four years. All his old insecurities are still there, he’s just stopped listening to them so much.)

CHARACTER HISTORY:

FAMILY BACKGROUND:

Neville’s magic made itself known only when Neville was tumbling out of a window, dropped by his great uncle Algie who forgot about him at the mere sight of a meringue. It’s a defining moment for Neville. Not only does it say alot about his magic and how it works (stubbornly–his magic voiced the defiance that Neville was too shy, too insecure to put into words), but it also says a lot about his family. They didn’t hang about waiting for his magic to show. They forced it and him. Neville wonders if it’s always been this way–if this is the method that worked on his dad–or if it’s because his dad is no longer around for a casual chat that his family treats Neville this way, if grief has settled into their bones, reshaping their personalities into something slightly more gruff and heavy-handed. All Neville’s life his parents have lived in St Mungo’s, but he feels their absence keenly every time he’s around Gran or his great aunt and uncle. Even more so now that he’s an Auror. It’s like they’re all trying to pick up where his dad left off. But how long can you be an Auror before you start to lose pieces of yourself? And how many pieces can you lose before you’re not yourself anymore?

LIFE DURING THE WAR:

If you need someone who isn’t there, sometimes you have to step up and fill that role yourself. This is how Neville came to be one of the leading figures of the DA in Harry’s absence, along with Luna and Ginny. They all needed someone to follow, someone to tell them this fight needed to happen; that even in defeat, they could still make an impact and keep the fight alive. Neville will tell you that if it hadn’t been him, it would have been someone else. And he’s not wrong. But he’s glad for all the hits he took on behalf of others, especially the younger students; that he became the human punching bag for the Carrows, absorbing whatever blow and hex they threw at him. It hurt, alot, but there was a silver lining to that cloud–the DA finally got to practise their healing spells.

Neville has never been one to stay on the ground when he’s down, though it used to take him longer to find his feet. During the war, Neville bounced right back up. He survived, despite mouthing off Carrow and Voldemort at every turn, speaking up when they spouted their bigotry, and defending other students against their cruelty. And he has a whole host of scars to show for it. Some wounds healed magically, and some took time, either because the spells were too difficult for the DA, the cut too deep, or Neville refused the help because there was another student in greater need. (There was always another student in greater need.) They’re on his face and torso mostly, dozens of little nicks on his skin and a few thicker scars from deep gashes, including one on his right cheek, one of the final cuts he received. Some days he wears them with pride. Others, he hates them, seeing nothing but the marks the Carrows left on him, on his skin and his mind. Neville response to pain is undeniably shaped by his experience during his seventh year. It makes him feverish, almost excitable. Neville has found what he’s good at. He doesn’t fear getting knocked down anymore, but maybe he should.

LAST THREE YEARS:

Neville threw himself into his work, and when he wasn’t on the clock, he was as good as working, checking in with his friends, scraping together the remnants of the DA and shaping them into something resembling people. Sometimes this meant having a drink down the Leaky Cauldron, and others it meant making sure they had food in the fridge or that their laundry hadn’t piled up. Either way, Neville kept on filling the role of DA leader that he’d gotten so comfortable in during his seventh year. That way he didn’t have to inspect his own damage. But if anyone wants a glimpse into Neville’s state of mind, all they have to do is look at his garden. The wildflowers hide it well, but anyone with a passing knowledge of plants would know instantly that Neville is not okay.

HOLIDAY DETAILS:

Neville’s one family tradition which he absolutely upholds is visiting his mum and dad at the hospital every day of the week before Christmas. He decorates their hospital room with paper chains and tinsel, and brings Christmas cookies and sweets. On the bad days, he only stays for a quick hello and goodbye, but on the good days, he spends hours with them, telling them about the good things, like the plants he’s planning on putting in the garden, or various anecdotes about Seamus or the lovely thing Luna said during their last meet-up. Neville doesn’t ascribe to any religious beliefs. He observes Christmas because it’s time he spends with his family. It gives him a reason to be at the hospital more often, doing something for his mum and dad. Neville loathes that he’s involved in the celebration. He would have nothing to do with it if it wasn’t compulsory (a fact which is setting off alarm bells in Neville’s head), except Gran is ecstatic. She wants to parade her grandson in front of everyone, talk about what a hero he is. Neville can’t wait…

OOC SUPPLEMENT:

SHIPS: Neville/Chemistry.

CHANGES: Nope! All the bios are wonderful. I love them.

FACECLAIM: Justice Smith, Henrik Holm.

#merrylittleapp #neville longbottom

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eduardolimpsych101-blog · 6 years ago

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The Jump is Beautiful

Peace has its ways to demand attention.

According to the calendar, it has been half a year. 7 months next week to be exact. To be honest, I stopped counting at 4. It doesn't feel necessary anymore. Gone are the days where I tell myself "I can't believe it. It still doesn't feel real" and need a constant reminder that time has passed and will not go back. Now are the days where they feel the most real and where time not passing fast enough becomes my worst reminder.

My close friend committed suicide last May. And I knew it.

The night before May 15 was weird. You could call it a premonition or somewhat paranoia but I felt something was wrong. I couldn't pinpoint right away what I was feeling but my chest felt heavy and tears fell for no reason. I was scared, remembering now how I felt that evening. I had an instinct of asking one person how they were feeling. I gave words of encouragement. I admitted to them that I felt something was wrong and just wanted to make sure they were fine. Guess what? Wrong friend. Or I guess just not the right one at that moment.

My close friend committed suicide last May. And now we're lost.

I was in school cramming a group paper for a major when our barkada chat popped up. Our friend that was his course mate was the one who messaged. I started to feel my heart getting heavy. The feeling I had last night came back and my worst fears came true when he finally told us the news. I was in disbelief. We called each other up and ask who was free so we could just be together. I asked my group mates if I could just help tomorrow then left to meet with friends. It was the worst reunion ever.

What followed was a series of sleepless nights and endless bouts of crying throughout the week of his wake. Every part of his death was a reminder of the last time I missed a death. It was even in the same place. And every part of me was blaming myself again like last time. If I reached out more, maybe just maybe Peace wouldn't have to.

The third day of his wake where I finally stopped crying excessively, I went back to our chat box and found a conversation of ours on how we were struggling to find time to meet up as a barkada. He wasn't complaining though he even said a hello across the hallway was enough. I was lucky because he had a Stat subject last year so I got to see him for like 5 minutes every other day. We would chat for a bit about anything even if we both had classes. The friendship was always that simple to him. He just love simply being together, doing nothing particularly exciting. And now that's what all we want also: to be together.

“Most of the time sapat na yun sa akin e.”

This was the second time I knew something was wrong but still chose not to do anything. This was the second time I chose not to hold on. But this will be the last time that I didn't start doing something.

My close friend committed suicide last May. And it will not be in vain.

What we can do

My friend did not tell us at any point his diagnosis. The one time he told us anything about his mental health was when we had a reunion because one of us in the barkada was going to do a semester abroad in Japan. He opened up about going to a therapist and working on his issues with himself. He told us that he has this thing that when he is happy, he thinks that it won't last so he just sabotages it himself so at least he knows when the happiness will end. He opened up about having times where he feels depressed or feels pressured about his academics. Even during that lunch, he said he can only stay until 1 since he had to go back to school to study. This was the time I should have done more like ask how he was everyday or send words of encouragement every now and then.

In 2017, WHO released statistics on mental health citing suicide associated with depression as the second leading cause of death among people ages 15-29. DOH also presents that the suicide rate for men and women for every 100,000 people is 2.5 and 1.7 respectively. This has become such a problem that in DOH's 2017 budget plan, 100 million was allotted for mental health drugs and 1 billion for mental health facilities. But the government can only do so much. The stigma around mental health problems as just excuses or only weaknesses of the person prevents people from seeking out help even if it is available. We must start by first educating ourselves with what depression and disorders in the same category in order to begin the process of eliminating the stigma on mental health.

Saundra Ciccarelli (2017) explains Major Depressive Disorder as "when a deeply depressed mood comes on fairly suddenly and either seems to be too severe for the circumstances or exists without any external cause for sadness". It some sense it is not logical. It is not something you can eliminate in their sight so they can feel better. Neither is it something you can reason them out of.

According to Ciccarelli causes of depression may be:

1. Repressed anger towards authority figures

2. Learned helplessness (tendency to stop trying after past failures)

3. Self-defeating thoughts

4. Variation in neurotransmitter systems

With the first reason, consultations with family guidance counselors may be done or just having a more open conversation as a family can help. For the second and third reason, extra caution in the words we use must be made. Every mistake they make, they will amplify and intensify guilty feelings. It is important to not only think about what we say but also how we say it. I implore you to read more upon this so you can understand what a person having depression or depressive moods is going through. Asides from what is mentioned, it is important we are also aware of the free facilities and services near our places that can accommodate new clients.

Me taking Psych 101 and writing this blog post is just step number 1. He has changed my life and many others'.

Farewell

To Edel,How weird is it that the only time I talk to you at length is for a subject. Last time it was for Eng 10 case study, now for Psych 101. I guess you understand me anyway.

You were the first person not to question my insecurities when making friends with what I called "popu" kids. You just kept on trying and eventually you broke down the wall I put up. You are one of my best friends and I'm sorry I never told you that. You were always there to help everyone in our group even if that meant you driving out of the way just to go to us. I remember you fetching me one time at my house so I wouldn't be hassled with transportation to your despedida. I remember you baking cookies for a girl that eventually gave it away (tough man but hey at least you learned how to bake haha). I remember you taking on 3+ roles for your section's school play. I remember you. In all ways you never looked at yourself. You are the kindest, most generous, and loving person.

But you weren't without your flaws.

You had your own wall, one where I only noticed far too late in our friendship. It wasn't like you weren't open about your emotions just not specific ones. I just wished I caught onto it so I could've convinced you that you were a far greater person that what you think. If I saw every doubt when it came to your decisions, I would've told you that I was proud no matter what choice. If I saw every hesitation when you wanted to speak, I would've made you feel comfortable until you were ready to tell us.

But really, would I have? Because it is because of you that right now I am not afraid to ask people how they are doing. I don't care if I come off as FC. It is because of you that I talk about my feelings to my friends and to God. It is because of you that I learned to love my friends explicitly. I just wished that "because of you" wasn't in exchange for you.

I miss you. I miss you everyday. We miss you everyday. And right now are days are still pretty heavy but they will get better because you gave us a reason to be better for each other and for you. Thank you for everything. I'll see you when I see you and don't worry I'll give you more than a high five.

To everyone suffering in even the most simplest way, you are enough and more than enough all at the same time.

A sight is never too beautiful to resist.

#mental health #thankyou

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angry-healers · 7 years ago

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Sometimes I wish AST wasn't as pretty as it is

Sorry, this is long and I don’t think it breaks rule 1 (correct me if I’m wrong)

So, I have a friend who is really bad at mmos who started playing XIV a few months ago. All fine and dandy, but he is not the best at mmos. He is one of those “I will do what I want for attacks and if people call me out, they are the problem” type people when it comes to these games, which is 100% frustrating because he’s not like this when it comes to most other things.

For the most part, I didn’t play with him and I assumed that he must have been learning decently considering he said that people on Primal had invited him to play with them and they had been showing him the ropes and it was really helping him. At the time, I played on Aether.

Cue some drama with my FC happening that’s totally irrelevant to this story (but could probably be submitted as a story anyways) and I move to Primal because I was done with that. Get settled with different friend, end up in nice FC, everything’s good.

So, new-to-xiv friend is like “aww I wish you would have moved to my server, we could have played together.” Feel kinda bad at the time, but I decide to see, “Hey, maybe he’s gotten a bit better since the other games we played together. People change. I’ll give him a chance.”’

He starts talking to me about how AST is his main and how he’s in love with it. At the time I have not much to say due to personal salt, and I just listen, thinking it’s good that he is enjoying himself.

Something comes up about how he plays AST as a DPS class more than a healer though, and at first, it doesn’t click. DPSing on an AST? Absolutely fine and all, and I encourage healers to at least try dpsing before they decide theyre 100% against doing it and let the end decision be theirs alone. I tell him that’s a good mentality to have and I’m glad he’s not afraid to try DPSing, especially because it’s much easier now to dps and heal.

Then, he says it. “Oh, I don’t heal. I just DPS. I play this as a DPS class.”

I can’t help but feel a bit confused a bit by this and I ask him “You don’t heal? How are you getting through dungeons without healing?” and he simply states that he just doesn’t go to dungeons. Weird, because he’s somewhere around 55, I think 58? I ask him how he leveled and he simply says that he grinds fates.

Well, his own thing, I shrug and tell myself. He’s not in the DF and he’s not inflicting it on people, and that’s all I can really ask of him without getting into a fight thats not worth it, because going into dungeons and refusing to heal wouldn’t fly in any group. And I wouldn’t blame anyone who refused to put up with that.

Flash forward to a bit later.

At some point, he brings up AST again and I’m almost afraid to ask, but I figure “I’m a sucker for this stuff, let me see what he says.”

At this point, he is healing. I’m relieved to hear that he picked up actually trying to heal, but it all slips away into nothingness fairly soon. It isn’t long before he’s slamming the other 2 healers because they’re not AST. I let out an audible groan, but whatever. He’s just being proud of what he is and maybe he just enjoys AST as his preferred healing class. I steer the topic somewhere else because I don’t need another speech about how I’m a WHM and I’m inferior.

Eventually we get to the topic of training, and I say I’m thinking of just spamming palace. He says he’s interested, I make a cross world party, and try to queue us in to 51-60. No bueno. He doesn’t have a 1-50 clear.

I tell him we need that out of the way, and he asks me if I can add a friend to go. I open up recruitment again, tell him to tell them the pass, and spend 50 minutes waiting while he makes small talk about whatever. I’m fine with wanting to chat about other things, but I’m just like “Dude, it’s been a while, is she joining?”

He explains how she doesn’t want to do palace and the two were just catching up. At this point I’m holding back my anger, but I try to be the good friend. I end recruitment and go to queue us with randoms.

Immediately he declines without telling me. When I figure out it’s him, I ask why. Apparently, he doesn’t like randos. I figure I’m 99/99 and I can easily do this, so I make an attempt. The two of us go in.

First 2 sets of floors are fine until the near end where I notice the following: He isn’t putting on diurnal. I tell him “Hey you should put that on,” and he just ignores me saying this.

We get through the 2nd set and go into the 3rd.

He still isn’t putting on Diurnal.

I bring it up again, and he just ignores me. Ok, maybe he just dislikes diurnal. Maybe he prefers nocturnal just that much.

4th set of floors. Alright. I can do this, I tell myself.

We hit 50. I tell him, “Oh, nocturnals unlocked. You should put that up.”

At this point, he’s apparently had enough and tells me to stop telling him how to heal. I’m so shocked I’m not even mad. I’m just completely in awe. I have to ask it at that point, “You know what your sects are for, right?”

At this point he’s practically yelling at me over mic how sects are worthless, how he doesn’t need them, how they’re wastes of MP, and why shields and regens aren’t beneficial to his healing style. He also takes the time to explain to me how he doesn’t “heal low content anyways” so he only keeps benefic 2 on his bar and if I “don’t like it,” then I can find some other idiot to babysit me.

At some point in the floor he hits a luring trap.

Sweet, sweet karma.

I watch him die. I don’t even try to hide it.

He whines that I wasn’t doing my job of protecting him, the healer, and I say "Huh, a sect and aspected benefic would have probably helped keep you alive while you dps them down" and I voluntarily take aggro before they can disperse. I purposely die and say “I have FC stuff to do now.” and I just drop call right there.

All I can say is why?

Needless to say, friend or not, I blocked his ass on XIV and I avoid talking to him about any MMO as much as possible now.

My fave thing about not blocking him on discord tho? He “forgave” me for this incident as he sees it as “no big deal, since it was clear I didn’t know what I was doing either.”

I knew exactly what I was doing.

(submitted by anonymous)

================

As long as you didn’t state actual names, it’s a-okay!

Also you don’t need a friend like that. I have friends who are similar. They’re really shitty in MMOs but fine in real life so I just don’t play MMOs with them. Games tend to change people. And your ‘friend’ seems to think FFXIV is like WOW or DnD where you can actively choose a path and play method for your class. A lot of F2P mmos are like that, especially those where potions are more high value than an actual healing class such as Elsword, Revelation Online and Blade&Soul. Those games also have leveling options that are mostly in the field rather in dungeons (well, except for Elsword but yeah).

If the first thing that came out of my friend’s mouth is “I don’t heal” or “I main X sect” or “sects are useless” I would literally go to their house, kick down their door, smack their face and throw their PC out the window.

-- Mod Mhi

#healer discourse #final fantasy xiv #healing horror stories #submission #notes from mod mhi #long post

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agentkk · 7 years ago

Text

Oh my god, I feel like such a weirdo.

Back when Animal Crossing: New Leaf came out in 2013, I met a person on Tortimer Island; that person was Juan from the town called New Leaf. We had fun together, played a couple of games, and decided to trade friend codes!.. Except I didn’t know mine… And I didn’t have any real social media accounts or a phone that I could text with. It was quite the conundrum at the time. Just as we were trying to figure out how to contact each other in some other way, my internet crashed, and I never found him again; all I had to remember him by was his Mii in my Mii Plaza and the thought of what could have been a great friendship. So two years pass, and I find his Mii in my Plaza again, reminding me of what happened, and I decided to go looking for him… And I found him. Sort of. Well, I found his Miiverse page, but since he didn’t update often, I didn’t know how to talk to him properly, and I couldn’t just ask for his FC because that would get me banned in a New York minute. I was at a loss. How could I just tell someone I’d been looking for them even though we met two years prior? That would be super creepy, and I didn’t want to weird him out, so I gave up. Two more years passed, and we were brought here, a little more than a week from today. I looked at his page again out of sheer curiosity, finding I had missed his most recent post by a few weeks since I was last on, so… About two years ago, I guess. I felt a little bummed out, but it’s not like it really mattered much at this point since I knew I’d never be able to find him again, anyway. So I drew for a bit on the ACNL community, found a new artist to follow— who’s super awesome, by the way, and anyone who wants to go check out their art can find them on their Tumblr account, ridingontherails— and settled into life in a dying community. It felt so amazing! I’d never been happier to talk with other Animal Crossing fans in my life, and I even gained my first follower! I mean, it’s a dying service, but it meant a lot to me nonetheless. Then suddenly, at the peak of my happiness with the community to date, I felt a need… No, an urge to find Juan again! I didn’t really know why or how I was going to do it, but I just knew I would, even if it took another two years. So I went to google and typed in whatever seemed most reasonable— his Nintendo Network ID, his name and town— and I finally found something… A YouTube account. The character in their video didn’t really look a lot like his did when I first met him, so I doubted they were the same person. I thought about leaving a comment, but the account hadn’t been used for awhile, and I was scared I’d never get a response. I almost quit again out of disappointment before I found a link to a newer account, which led me to a link to another new account! When I got to the latest one, I tried to leave a comment, but I stopped myself; if I left a comment asking about some stranger he probably didn’t even know, he’d probably feel like I didn’t enjoy his videos at all, and that would be most unfortunate. After all, I had never intended to hurt someone I didn’t know out of the blue like that. Instead, I looked for information on his channel that would answer my question, but I had no luck. So instead, I chose what I felt was the least offensive option based on what I did find; I asked his entire Discord group if they knew an ACNL player named Juan from the town called New Leaf, and then I waited. Today, just one day after asking, I got my answer. I stepped off the bus, and pulled out my phone nervously to unlock the screen. And when I opened the chat, my eyes widened with both surprise and shock. All it said was, “That’s me.”

#I finally finished what I started four years ago #I can't believe it #I still wish I asked for his FC though #I got too nervous when I found out it was actually him #It felt like such a relief to find him #bc it bugged me for a long time when I couldn't #Not gonna lie I still haven't left the chat room #because I still want to ask for that FC #I bet he'll say no #lolzers #now for actual tags #Story Time with Tori #ACNL #Animal Crossing: New Leaf

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