#no muse isn't gone its actually worse

[mrsnancywheeler]

Can you delve deeper into what happened after Billy asked muse to join him and the groupie?

ofc ofc pookie

I imagine afterward muse would go straight to Daisy and she's pissed and crying, and Daisy's like, "Woah, woah, chickadee, what happened?"

"I fucking hate him, Daisy, I hate him!" And you're sitting on Daisy's couch, head on her shoulder, crying.

"What'd he do now?" And there's not an ounce of judgment in her voice for you going through these feelings again.

But you're just sobbing, there's an urge to throw things, but you don't even know what to throw, and you say nothing for a while. "Why do I love him, Daisy? Why can't I just leave?"

"You can, I'm not saying it's easy, but if you got up and walked out the door, for real. You could be someone besides just Billy Dunne's."

"But that's the problem, Daisy, that's not what I want! But, I can't go on like this anymore, I don't know how much more of it I can take before I don't even know what comes after. He's so fucking lost, and he need someone or something, Daisy, and I can't do whatever that is for him. It just gets worse."

"When we have our break, go somewhere with me. We'll travel, see the world, you don't have to walk away, just take a step out of the box."

"Where?"

"I don't know! France? India? Italy? Greece? Let's go to Greece, together, and just spend a few weeks not being consumed by Billy fucking Dunne, okay?"

"Okay!"

And you don't know how long you've been at Daisy's, just drinking, playing record after record, talking, laughing, doing lines when there's a knock at the door and you go to get it because Daisy is laying on the ground, staring at the ceiling. And of course it's that same Billy fucking Dunne at the door.

"What do you want?"

"Can we just talk? Please?" And you stare at him for a second, then back inside, trying to fight the debate within yourself before giving in with a sigh and closing the door behind you.

"60 seconds, go."

Billy just stares for a second like you've got him off guard but you just tap at the imaginary watch on your wrist, tounge clicking. "Look, I'm- I'm sorry, okay. I know I keep fucking up, that I'm fucked up, and don't deserve any of this, you. But I just, I can do better, that's what we've always done, isn't it? Gotten better? I don't even know what's going on in my head anymore, but you are the constant. You see me, and I see you, and please." You want to weaken because not only has he said the magic word of 'sorry ' but it looks like he might actually cry. He's pushed you too far for your resolve to be that weak though.

"Billy, I'm not gonna do this push and pull of you seeing how far you can take it before it breaks because you like to try and play god or some shit. You want a breaking point? This is it, you can't push it any further without it all fucking falling apart. And do you think I fucking want that? God, Billy, I'm the one who let you get away with pushing it every single time just so I wouldn't have to actually deal with the problem and I could just have you."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." You're taking a deep breath, wishing you'd brought a cigarette out with you, "When the band gets its break, I'm goin with Daisy for a few weeks. And when I'm gone, I don't want to hear from you during that time."

"With Daisy? That's not safe-"

"Your time to speak is up! It's not any fucking safer with you, Billy. All I fucking do is worry, and cry, and drink, and wait for your mood to change. I can't even fucking look at you right now Billy, that's how bad it is, you should be fucking grateful for this, for Daisy. Because not only is she saving the whole goddamn band, but just a few weeks and I might be able to fucking stand you agian." And you're turning back inside the house and look back right before you open the door, "All I've ever done is love you, Billy, what the hell did I do to deserve this?" And you're back inside the house, door slamming behind you, telling Daisy it was nothing.

And when you finally do see Billy again, it's a quiet reunion, the type where your foreheads are pressed together, and tears are involved, and just being held. Just a silent promise of no matter how bad it gets, it's never gonna get that bad again.

Although we all know regardless muse does hit her eventual breaking point of the ultimatum still

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞   𝐛𝐚𝐠    。 。 。

             𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭   𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞   𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝: 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂  𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 ！！

@mindsreprieve:  💌  to  write  a  valentine's  day  letter  to  my  muse  (Ist  leaving  Puck  an  embarrassingly  sappy  letter  because  they  would  actually  combust  if  they  said  it  in  person?  More  likely  than  you  think)

              𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓   𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘   𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒   𝐇𝐈𝐌   𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄    when  he  first  lays  eyes  on  the  envelope  on  his  bedroll.  Puck  can't  help  the  deep  sense  of  dread  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach  ;  an  old  instinct  from  a  mind  lost  to  time.  Were  he  a  vampire,  he  would  not  burn  in  the  sunlight.  Instead,  it  would  be  love  poetry  that  lit  him  aflame.

Puck  is  not  so  clueless  that  he's  ignorant  to  what  day  it  is,  or  what  that  day  means.  (  .  .  .  Well,  he's  not  anymore.  He  was,  perhaps,  a  little  more  clueless  a  few  days  prior.  The  others  had  to  explain  it  to  him.  )  He  knows  what  likely  lurks  within  that  envelope,  and  he  is  ashamed  to  feel  discomfort  because  of  it. 

              That  isn't  nice,  he  thinks,  frowning  as  unusually  shaky  hands  pluck  the  love  letter  from  the  envelope.  Someone's  taken  the  time  to  express  themselves  to  you,  and  you  almost  gag  at  it  ？

What  kind  of  monster  had  he  been  in  his  past  life  that  he  feels  this  way  ？

Oh.

              Oh. 

The  letter  is  from  Ist'aufein.  Why  does  that  make  it  worse,  somehow  ？  Feelings  Puck  has  never  experienced  before  suddenly  rush  through  his  body  at  the  realization.  His  face  flushes,  heart  quickening. 

He  has  to  put  the  letter  down  before  reading  a  single  word  of  it.  Mechanically,  he  stands  from  where  he'd  got  comfortable  on  his  bedroll  &  begins  to  pace  around  his  tent.  Wheels  turn  in  his  head,  but  they  can't  keep  up  with  how  his  heart  races.  All  he  knows  is  that  he  has  stupidly  neglected  to  think  about  any  of  this  until  just  this  very  moment. 

There's  always  been  something  different  about  his  dynamic  with  Ist'aufein,  hasn't  there  ？Something  of  which  Puck  can't  quite  make  the  shape  on  his  own.  Something  he  could  have  gone  a  lifetime  without  solving,  if  not  for  the  letter  left  unread  in  his  blankets.   

There  is  one  thing  Puck  fears  more  than  anything,  so  much  so  he  can't  even  force  its  name  out  of  his  mouth.  Being  known,  being  understood,  being  ⸻

He  casts  an  uneasy  glance  towards  the  letter.

              You  have  to  read  it. 

But  that  will  doom  them,  won't  it  ？If  he  reads  it,  he'll  know.  He  can't  know.  He  can't  let  them  in.  Puck  is  a  giver  who  does  not  receive  ;  he  is  not  meant  to  receive.  He  gives  all  of  himself  to  everyone  &  expects  ⸻  demands  ⸻  nothing  in  return.  Otherwise,  he'll  take  too  much.   

Despite  himself,  he  finds  the  letter  in  his  hands  again.  Like  a  magnet,  he  gravitated  towards  it.  He  has  to  know. 

Golden  eyes  soak  up  every  word,  ( Gods, they're sweet ; of course they're sweet. Too sweet. Dangerously sweet. ) , gliding  past  them  over  &  over  until  the  page  gets  blurry.  Red  lips  tremble,  a  strangled  sound  squeezing  past  them,  and  those  pale,  shaky  hands  let  the  letter  slip  out  of  their  grasp. 

              What  a  curse  it  is  to  be  loved  in  return. 

[originemesis]

hc musings - character dive ; //

Judging from season 1, I think it's safe to assume Adam does not like be without his helmet/mask. Sure, he's dressed up for his meetings/in court/for the final battle, which is just about everywhere he pops up in the season. However, he's also briefly shown just hanging out with Lute in heaven and he's still in uniform while she isn't. This is likely their down time, and yet he's still lugging around his massive robes, fully decked out for battle like it could happen anytime when clearly they're in heaven and it can't. So why is this?

Well, when the mask actually comes off (it's forced off and smashed apart just to get to that point), Adam is just 'some dude' under the menacing, manic act he's been putting on the whole time. An act as in when he crawls out of the hole without his safeguard face, he literally just has a melt down in front of everyone where his previous 'cunty charm' and 'idgaf' attitude are gone in place of some caught on the spot, seething human looking dirt bag who's only 'gotcha' is to call the group that's put an end to his reign of terror 'losers'. Just losers (baby ~). If he's not insecure with what he is under that mask (and how could he not be when not one, but two people who were literally created to be his perfect match dumped his ass? Oof.), then he absolutely has an inferiority complex of sorts and its in his 'break-down' moment on screen where it's on full display without the glowing grin and the horns.

To scratch further at that thought- imagine how Adam, the first human/man was essentially created in God's image. He was created to be perfect by heaven's definition, and though he didn't stay that way, he got a taste for what that felt like. Literally anything he does after that point when Eve and him have to leave Eden is (unironically) 'mid' or worse.

HC wise (out of my own musings so don't mind the canon divergence here since s2 is likely uhh...twitterjokes2027-) I'm leaning into the idea that the first two human souls are weighty in the sense that they can't both be in the same after life or it'll upset whatever balance there is between heaven and hell. So at the time of their deaths, it was decided that heaven wanted Adam and so hell would have Eve by default (also she was the one they blamed most- typical fandoms @ female characters amiriteeee). This means Adam who knows he's not perfect anymore, hasn't felt so in a long time- goes to a plane of existence that exudes perfection. They have 'the brightest, the polite-est of the lot and everyone is hot'. And then there he is- just some dude who is none of those things (hates math, innately rude, and well...'just some guy' isn't exactly heaven-scale hot guyyys).

This cumulation of always realizing nothing he does is good enough (because he knows this) and yet being treated like it is because he just happened to be first leads Adam to a state that even Lucifer comments on in their battle in the form of 'oh haha, you really let yourself go-'. Which I take to mean in the sense Adam is up in heaven, holding zoom-style holographic meetings while he probably barely even leaves his room (and never without his gear on), neglecting the 'womanly' deemed things like cooking and taking care of himself, gaining struggle weight for it all, and worst of all...he's in heaven and he's essentially in a depressed state (that let's be real he'd say doesn't exist like the dwightyouignorantslut he is) and that is plastered all over his real face in the form of baggy under eyes and that gross chin stubble he got going on too. And since heaven is full of happy, not depressed- never have a hard day, and HOT people, he essentially stays covered 24/7 in public because people would definitely question why he's there and heaven really doesn't need more people questioning decisions that'll create more Lucifers.

While wearing the mask he's like a kid that won't take his Halloween costume off because it makes him feel cool, and he does get a lot more animated and forgetful of his true insides. He's almost like a school mascot in a way, using his 'angelsona' to amplify his attention-grabbing antics. Take it away and he's very likely much more identical to Lucifer in terms of the whole 'take THAT, depression!' bit. Except for Adam that just translates to him being far less animated, grumpy, electric-guitar to acoustic pipeline, passively aggressive and likely tired, being the source of all humanity and all (man needs to be sucking down that G-fuel hourly).

Additionally: Angeldust and Adam would have the same theme of 'putting on an act' (or in Adam's case- putting on a show) and not letting the real person behind the façade show through. (Though in Angel's case it's for his own protection. In Adam's case it's because man can't cope with his insecurity.) And how Husk sees through Angel's bullshit, Lute does the same with Adam.

Adam's helmet glitched out the same way that Vox's did, so it could very well be a hint that Vox and Adam may have something to do with antagonism in the next season. If Adam came back w/o his mask and this all was applicable ofc, he would definitely team up with or make a deal with Vox in order to get him to fix the helmet (assuming he can based on the idea he might know how it works when put back together since his own tv face has been shown to glitch out like Adam's did) since it would be a necessary competent to bring back the actual 'Adam' he's become after living in discomfort with the one he became after experiencing real perfection.

[auricbound]

Behold, a Botanical Charge Triad!

violet :   how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

chamomile :   what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ?   are they one to be haunted by adversity ,   or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ?   how do they express that pride ?

(For any verse, feel free to split the answers too haha)

botanical hc meme ! | accepting. dear god quen not the THREEFER.

— ☉ —

violet.

horrible. in any verse, in any time period. he's really, really bad with dealing with betrayal - for him, it feels like an incredibly personal attack for someone to have gained his trust and then subsequently break it. it's even worse, though, because despite that wishful expectation for people to just stick to their word, he also EXPECTS betrayal in the same breath. again, doesn't matter what time or verse. hali - humility - did a lot of damage to him as a child at pretty much every point via the chaotic corruption he experienced. a lot of his lifetime has been spent unable to discern reality from his fantasies, and this kind of gets a lot worse when taking into account how often he dissociates and leaves someone else in charge of functioning for the day - usually sephtis, because the indifference lets them survive better. he hallucinates other people around him and other people talking to him. it's something that reinforces his lies to himself ; surely people can't actually tolerate him that much, they're just waiting until he finally gives them a reason to leave him behind ! and of course, when he DOES get betrayed, it leads to an intense affirmation of his deepest fears that then, in turn, adds to hali's gradual corruption, continuing the cycle. he's really bad at dealing with it. as an adult he starts to get a little better, but that's ONLY with his support system around - and for five years between the promised day and him finally going to xing to be with ling, he significantly LACKS that support system. yeah he just doesn't do well with it at all.

chamomile.

same thing here - any time, any verse, he'll take away extremely bitter things regarding his most painful experiences. while the smartest parts of him can and DO file away more important lessons from being hurt by people or things, the rest of him that hates the feeling of being hurt instead stores away the information like some kind of plague that continues to destroy his insides. the transmutation, the incident in briggs, his wounds from the promised day - all of them are horrible, HORRIBLE experiences in his head, and they're ones that his brain likes to REPEAT at the most inopportune of times. the briggs scar especially. even long after it's healed he still remembers the feeling of ice filling his body and the sensation of cement in his heart while he tried to stay alive. it actually keeps getting worse for him, sometimes - he'll straight up have moments where he gets stuck with phantom sensations of the whole thing even IF hali isn't the one specifically triggering all of it. sometimes he'll have the worst pains in the metal limbs. sometimes he'll have the worst pains around his heart, which was his most damaged organ to begin with. he really never catches a break. eventually his trauma gets to a point where he physically CANNOT handle any more of it - and that's when one of the others is thrown into the mix so he can let them handle the burden. usually sephtis handles everything - but honey is responsible for keeping him sane despite having been targeted by a serial killer while he was crossdressing that one time. they kind of carry that trauma so he can just forget it ever happened. his mental state is ... weird, like that.

amaryllis.

ah shit its lairus now. because goldie had an issue with understanding and dealing with his pride in HEALTHY ways - aka not letting himself be tortured by humility for having a natural human experience and not letting himself grow too manic in said experience - we're going to lairus now, who is eternally 34 and NOT constantly hounded by his phantom twin for feeling things. he's ... weird about his pride, though. he has his small, brief moments of enjoying himself and being proud of the things he's capable of, but it's very clear he still has SCARS regarding his childhood and struggles to maintain said pride for a normal period of time. he'll have one moment where he boasts and then immediately cringe at himself and "calm down" - aka he'll just quiet himself and give a small, bitter smile before doing whatever else he needs to do. it goes hand in hand with how obnoxiously "humble" he can be - which is more sad than anything. he's getting better, though ! slowly. as slow as someone who's scattered across time and space can be, anyways.

[poswiecenia]

@dehvours - 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐎   ! for signora \ ✰ ⸻    𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐓  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    !

what   does   ‘ power ‘   mean   to   your   muse   ?   and   how   important   is   it   to   them   ?   

power is a tool that allows her to channel energy into a goal. she's confident in her abilities and the tends to suit her well but also become her downfall in the end. however , her power of her liquid flame is important to her --- she gave up everything for her goals , not regretting it even when it begun to consume her completely.

is   death   something   that   frightens   them   ?   

yes and no. the personal choice of dying isn't so much something she fears -- the concept of returning to her beloved , rostam , is something she wants but her time in her mind isn't finished. her rage and fear when her end did come was not because she feared death itself , but because she couldn't control the situation or when / where she died herself. she didn't exactly expect to lose , her failure being her over confidence.

how   do   they   handle   death   ?   

gestures to rostam. lol. not very well if i'm honest. death of others barring the limited few she actually cares for doesn't concern her. they mean nothing to her.

do   they   believe   in   reincarnation   ?   

mmm. not really. the concept is a comfort to her but she doesn't wholly believe it to be true. she was a scholar prior to the cataclysm so i feel that she'd think the reality of it to be . . not possible. but the concept that she could reincarnate with rostam and have another chance with him is a nice dream.

rebirth   doesn’t   necessarily   mean   dying   and   being   reborn   as   another   person   or   thing,   it   can   also   mean   something   as   simple   as   changing   something   drastic   about   themselves,   so   do   they   believe   a   person   can   truly   change   ?   transform   their   flaws   and   be   reborn   as   a   better   person   ?

she personally has gone through a rebirth , transforming her mortal body into one of liquid fire. this however was a change that didn't entirely better her as a person but made her rage , anguish and resentment even hotter. she wished to cleanse the world of its crookedness -- she's prideful but believes that humanity and those see themselves higher can only grow and rebirth into something worse. not positive. if they have one bad day. if you asked her prior to the cateclysm and the death of rostam . . she might have said yes ? she was more hopeful then.

[timetravelingmilkshake]

I actually think the horror of losing someone at a young age is when you're living your life and it suddenly gets you that you have something they never will.

Under the cut, if it works, is really just the musings of my grief. Felt good to write and so I'm posting it, but it's long.

Every day I grow up a little more, and he is still a teenager. Every day I am a little older, and he's 19. He will never be anything more than 19. Once upon a time there were months between our ages. Every passing day is another in the divide between us. We will never be that close in age again, there will eventually be decades between us, because I get to keep going and he's just. Done. That's it. A life over before it even really started.

Logically, I understood that young people dying was tragic because what did they even get to experience, but I never really got it when I was a kid. I think I do now, and I do a little better every day. I've lived such little of life and yet just enough to see how limited it is, how much there is to go. There is a universe out there I can just barely feel with my fingertips when I reach out and. Did he know it was out there? Could he see the world stretching out in front of him, all the things he could hold if he ran for them? Is it worse if he didn't know at all or if he saw it and still had it snatched away?

Sometimes I text a dead man and watch the blank circle in the corner of his profile picture. I sit and stare and sometime in the 20 or so minutes that follow, I will decide I have waited long enough and click away. The circle, of course, remains blank. I, of course, still wait for it to turn green, as if he is going to come online to check my message after getting a notification. Part of me is grateful the circle is blank and not red, so I can continue to watch it, so I can continue to imagine the ping a long dead phone or laptop receives every time I am thinking of him enough to hit send. I can handle waiting for him to come online again, I do not think I could handle the do not disturb silencing anything that went through. I am not ready for the day the account is deleted for inactivity.

Why does only one of us get to grow up? Why am I the one who watches our friends succeed? Why do I get to see the people who were like little siblings to both of us get older? Why did he just die like that? Here and then gone in the blink of an eye, and I have to pick up the pieces.

It's not fair, it just isn't. I have to joke about how the winter was shitty because my friend kicked it or its just. A tragedy. It's just sad. It's just devastating that such a bright and brilliant and young person is dead. It's just a sad ending to a short story. Who even dies like that? Unexpectedly and without warning of the type of medical emergencies that most people go a lifetime without. How unlucky and unfair is that. How cruel is that? How painful is that?

I miss him. I think I always will. That's just part of life now. I will live with it.

[peachmuses]

ryou blinks stupidly at makoto, " i can't believe you'd just throw me to himuro-kun like that. i've already been influenced by ha-chan. " tatsuya giggles, shaking his head, " nah, its no fun when mako gives his approval. " attention focusing solely on kazuya, tatsuya whispers only so makoto can hear him, " i love that man. " " oh good. then that's over then. " momoi giggles, shaking her head / and hands come up to scrape gently at og's scalp, " princess treatment or nothing. " she pauses, and see-saws her head, " but i really don't care about money or anything, just so you know. " she's upper middle class / but money is just money, really. ryou is regretting sitting next to -- this, ( knowing that at some point his brain is going to point it out again ) and feels the need to escape. he debates on moving to the kitchen, but has no actual excuse, and so he shifts, pushing himself up, to crawl over to where tatsuya was before, and climbs up to the seat, before he's laying down and sipping on iced coffee again. this is better / worse , because he could look directly at atsushi -- but better, just because he's not right next to them. " escaping ? " shuuzou, whose been mostly quiet as he watched the scene, asks quietly amused, and ryou nods. " oh it isn't that bad, right tatsu ? two beautiful boys flirting next to you. " ryou's nose scrunches, and he takes a sip of his iced coffee in an attempt to ignore shuuzou. he had thought about moving next to momoi and og - but they're -- whatever, and ryou doesn't feel like touching that. he's safer here, with nijimura-san than over there. shuuzou whose gone from watching kazuya and atsushi now watches ryou, " you know, " he muses, " you have some natural doe eyes. " ryou glances at him, confused for a moment, and shuuzou grins, " so you are listening. "

makoto, when ryou's face is turned by tatsuya to face him, blinks at ryou and tatsuya, looking from one to the other. " i know. " he says blankly, " i have eyes. what are you going to do if he ends up worse than you? actually -- no, fine, go for it then. "

og smiles at the offer, laughing to himself as momoi and his twin go back and forth. " don't worry, i just need my check and then i'm up. i work because i want to, not because i need to right now. " it's simple really, since he'd been forced back into school, working was optional, something he just chose to keep at. " what's the point if i don't spend it on someone like you? "

" i hate rich people... "

" yeah, but you have money, too, makoto. "

makoto shrugs, gaze moving from og to tatsuya, brow raised for a moment before he shakes his head. he's back to watching mura and kazuya. " i hate rich people. "

" why? " mura asks, voice soft and kazuya hums in response.

" because, dear atshi-san, somewhere between 70 and 90% of human interaction is nonverbal. " kazuya's back to smiling, head tilting as other hand moves from mura's shoulder to rest index finger underneath mura's chin, tilting his head up just the slightest bit. " the way you hold yourself is important. your posture, your tone, how long you look at someone, " he pauses to bite his lip slowly, " what you look at when you talk to them, if you touch them or not. it matters. flirting with someone isn't the same as talking to your friends. "

mura inhales, blinking stupidly at kazuya and mouth begins to open to ask another question, but kazuya pressing a finger against his lips, shushing him.

" you're wondering how i gain and maintain eye contact if i keep my eyes covered, but it's really not that hard. people tend to know when they're being looked at, the longer it happens, the more obvious it is. don't worry, you're looking right at me, i see you seeing me and that's all that matters right now. no, don't look away. " kazuya moves finger from lips, hand ghosting over skin to settle on and past jawbone, fingers settling in purple hair and he scratches mura's scalp lightly. he debates for a moment / lifts a leg and leans it into mura, breaking the way he sits and kazuya settles on his lap.

mura squirms at first, startled by the action before kazuya hums and he looks him in his face again. " what's wrong? " mura breathes a shaky breath, voice soft, " i'm nervous. " " i'm making you nervous? " mura nods. " then it's working. you're adorable, truly. "

" when i flirt with people, " kazuya continues, " i like almost seducing them, stealing their attention and forcing them to focus on only me. i do the same to them, too. if you're not used to it, it can make people nervous, the mind crashes when someone does something they're not used to. i like watching them freeze. you don't have to do that, though; don't be like me, be yourself. " he frees both of his hands and mura's hand drops onto kazuya's lap just for him to move it almost instantly after. " generally speaking, as long as you give them you undivided attention, you'll be fine. scared? " mura nods then shakes his head. " good boy. see, when i flirt, i love telling people what i'd do to them -- for them. and if they let me, i do exactly that. i like praising people, calling them good, and beautiful, and smart, and making them believe me; they either light up or melt in my hands like ice into water and i eat it up every time. you asked me why i flirt with my friends earlier; i like making people feel good about themselves, so i do it often. "

[shxxtingstxxs]

Angst Starter Prompts! Send these to me for Angst Roleplays.

Can be reblogged for other people too.

Prompts pulled from Various Medias. Replace [insert] with a characters name.

1. ❝I will never, be good enough for you. Will I?❞

2. ❝I used to not be good enough for [insert]... but now... NOW I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH AT ALL!❞

3. ❝No matter how hard I try... No matter how hard, any of us tries❞

4. ❝Everything I ever did, I did for he/her...❞

5. ❝[insert] won't be strong enough, [insert] won't be perfect enough, [insert] left our family/group/team because you saw the worst in him/her!❞

6. ❝[insert] didn't care about this family/group/team!❞

7. ❝He/She loves this family/group/team! I love this family/group/team, we all love this family/group/team you're the one who doesn't care!❞

8. ❝You're the one whose breaking our home!❞

9. ❝Don't you EVER!❞

10. ❝The miracle is dying because of you!❞

11. ❝This is where Me and [insert] used to play!❞

12. ❝Oh god...❞

13. ❝What's the matter?❞

14. ❝I hate myself.❞

15. ❝Why do you QUIT working on me?!❞

16. ❝She always proves me wrong, I'll make things better dear! Drink me! Put me inside you!❞

17. ❝And she chokes me! Just like every whore out there!❞

18. ❝Bye mommy...❞

19. ❝Hi my name is [insert], see it says it on my shirt [in-sert].❞

20. ❝And then he/she smiled, that's what I'm after... A smile in his/her eyes, the sound of his/her laughter...❞

21. ❝Happy to listen, happy to stay... Happily watching him/her driiiift away...❞

22. ❝It's over isn't it? Isn't it? isn't it over? it's over isn't it? isn't it over? You won and he/she chose you! and he/she loved you and he/she's gone! its over isn't it why can't I move on?❞

23. ❝You have to stop [muse]! The cracks started with you. [Insert] left because of you! [insert] is losing him/her powers, [insert] is out of control, because of you! I don't know why you weren't given a gift but it is not an excuse for you to hurt this family/group/team!❞

24. ❝You sound like him/her...❞

25. ❝You cannot fathom how much I've mourned. What thousands of years of grief has done to me!❞

26. ❝Do you have any of his/her memories? We were here thousands of years ago.❞

27. ❝Oh yeah?! Well I used to have someone who hung out with me! Until he/she started hanging out with you!❞

28. ❝All that stuff's east for you to say!❞

29. ❝When you change... You change for the better! When I change... I change FOR THE WORSE!❞

30. ❝That's funny right? At least you found me entertaining...❞

31. ❝You actually liked me...❞

32. ❝Didn't you?❞

33. ❝What am I doing?❞

34. ❝Why do I wanna hurt you so bad? I'm supposed to be your friend... I just wanna be your friend...❞

[isolaradiale]

The dark hues of the evening blended to lighter, softer blues of dawn. With every minute, the creatures of the museum began to slow until they stopped altogether, all at once. Whatever they were doing, they dropped it, and began to move their way to the places they had been before the museum took a turn for the lethal.

The artwork climbed back into their frames, stepped onto their pedestals, and walked back into their display cases. A light rain outside washed all the street paint away, color emptying into the drains in the city. Landscapes let their prisoners out, shutting the windows to their world.

Those unlucky enough to earn a spot on the Wall of Shame reappeared in the lobby, their wounds appearing as colorful splashes of paint, and nothing more.

As the oranges and golds of the sun trickled in through the ornate windows of the museum, a blaring voice interrupted the stillness as the intercom museum sparked to life.

"Goooood moooorning, my lovely little visitors! The door to the museum will be opening shortly. Please make your way back to the lobby in an orderly fashion, and be sure to grab all your belongings!"

As Capella promised, the large wooden doors opened once again, releasing all the prisoners of the museum.

"Thanks for visiting the Tempus Museum! Janus, did you want to say any parting words?" "I'm mortified enough as it is, thank you." Came a muffled voice from behind, sounding much less enthused.

"Aww, somebody's cranky... Well, suit yourself!"

As if to add *Extra Enthusiasm*, as everyone exit the doors, they passed by Capella's invulnerable form as she personally waved everyone goodbye, stickers glittering in the morning sunrise. Janus was still sitting at the reception booth, head in his hands and rubbing his temples.

"Bye bye! Goodbye now! Goodbye! Buh-bye! Bye now!" was the chorus that trailed off as she spoke, bidding farewell to the museum's visitors...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Thank you, everyone, for participating in our recent event: Canvas! As a reminder, you will receive event participation IF:

You've written a starter, thread, mini, or interacted with someone else using the event setting for parts 1, 2, or both.

You've written a 500 word drabble using the setting of the event for parts 1, 2, or both.

You did not have to participate in both parts to receive event credit (so if you only wanted to participate in part 1, it still counts!)

Remember that for participating in the event, you can give yourself 100 stars to use in the marketplace!

A few things have changed as a result of this event, also:

The Tempus Museum has decided to make its home in the Archimedes ward, for now, not far from the Theater of Calliope. Its structure and function is largely the same, but the Optimized Tools won't be there. The artwork won't come to life and attack you, either... during the daytime, that is. You can check out its full description on Archimedes' page!

Janus still takes his place as the museum's curator, and does his best to accommodate guests of the museum. It's not uncommon to see him taking and teaching courses and workshops in the museum, either! He's still polite and eager to help with anything involving the museum and its activities, but if asked questions about the Stars or Spirale, he'll politely explain that he doesn't want to get anyone into trouble. As in the event, on the odd chance that someone is hostile and violent toward him, they'll instantly be killed, and will respawn back in their room.

Thanks again for participating in Canvas! We hope you had a great time!

Frequently Asked Questions:

"Do the things we made turn back to normal?"

Yup! If you didn't destroy it in Part 2 of the event, whatever you made will turn back to normal.

"Will our artwork try to kill us at night?"

Nope! If you took it with you, it's of no danger to you. If you kept it on display at the museum, it's also no danger to you (or anyone else for that matter.) Only the original stock monsters of the museum come to life at night. But unless your muse breaks into the museum, you have nothing to worry about.

The monsters still have their damage invulnerabilities, so unless your muse has a death wish, maybe don't break into the museum without some serious planning. Shady art theft rings will buy your stolen artwork for a hefty price, though, so whether it's worth the risk or not is up to you.

The more often your muse breaks into the museum, the more the monsters will recognize their patterns. Breaking into the museum more than two times is almost impossible, and should be reserved only for the most cunning of thieves.

"What if we made weapons or jewelry? Can we take those back home too?"

Sure! Just know that the weapons will go back to being fragile, and will shatter if used in combat. Any jewelry will look very convincing, but if you try to sell them to anyone, they'll identify it as a fake. Not that they won't buy what you have anyway, but it certainly won't be worth the price of actual precious stones and minerals.

"Can we go back to the museum?"

Yes! It's open to the public from sunrise to sundown, unless there's a nighttime gathering at the museum (which you're free to come up with on your own if you'd like to use it in a setting for a thread.) You could also theoretically break in or sneak in, or hide until the place closes, but you run the risk of running into the guard patrols... or worse.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ (Epilogue)

As the visitors left the building, Capella skipped over to the front desk. Caelum emerged from the darkened corner of the lobby to join her, with the rubber stopper on his cane making soft thumps on the elaborate stone tile.

"Well, that was fun! Thanks for letting us use your museum, Janus." "You're... welcome, I suppose." "Good good! I'll come back here when I make more pieces to show off to the lovely people of our Spirale."

Punctuating this, her hands went up to playfully pat his cheeks.

"Ooookay! Well, until next time! And as for you, Dr. Caelum, I'll see you at this afternoon's meeting or whatever, right?" "Aha, yes I'll be there."

Saluting the both of them, her form vanished into a series of pixels, leaving the other two at the desk. Now that she was gone, the AI turned to give a pointed look at his father.

"...Mmm. Still angry, eh?" Came a chuckle, but the other didn't look so amused.

"You know, at one point, I would have congratulated you for feeling slighted. And I would have celebrated you experiencing such a thing. But you've been around for so long that these things come naturally to you now, don't they? Feelings like being angry... Now I just feel bad when you're upset like any other human."

Another more cheery laugh, and he walked himself over to the doors, motioning the other to follow. With the crowd gone, he could finally step outside and stand on the steps.

"...I am sorry for causing you trouble." "I know." "Good, I'm glad that came across." "I'm still irritated, don't get me wrong." "Yes, yes. I don't doubt it." "And I'm not sure if anyone will come back after such a thing. I wouldn't blame them. I just wanted a place to contribute to this whole thing, and now it's all..."

Sighing, he sat on the first step, watching the rest of the street illuminate in the warm glow of the sunrise. He only realized the old man beside him was trying to sit down when he gave a little huff of effort, and immediately helped his father down beside him.

"Ahh. Much better, thank you." "I could have gotten you a chair..." "Haha, that's alright. If you can sit on the steps, so can I."

For a while, the two sat in silence, watching the streets of Archimedes begin to wake up. Cars stirring, cafes opening, people walking their dogs.

"...Are you doing alright over there?" Janus asked, not turning his head.

"About as well as I can, mmhm." "You still have your migraine medicines down there, right?" "Mmhm. Dr. Lyra has been taking good care of my health, don't worry." "She's the nice one, isn't she? That's a welcome change from the other facility..."

A hand went to the Ai's shoulder, patting it reassuringly.

"Instead of worrying about my health, you should direct that concern inward, Mortimer. You have a place where you can walk around, do all sorts of things humans do. Talk to people, make friends. Play games, read books, paint your lovely canvases. You're not confined to the life we lived three years ago."

Silence followed for a little until the young man leaned against the older one. He must be pushing 70 at this point, right?

"...Are you in a place where you can refer to me by my name? And not that Star code that they made?" "Well, no. Not really. But I don't think anyone's listening. So I don't care~" "Ha! Rebellion got you into this mess, didn't it?" The AI replied with a laugh, earning another from his father.

"Well. Messes that they were, I can still sit with you without you being stuck behind a screen. So even after all the hells we've been through, I'd call that a success. Wouldn't you?"

A smile cracked on his face. They have gone through a lot.

"A success... it's nice to finally call something a success again, father. It's very nice."

[zorkaya-moved]

Recommend romantic candidates: I'm very curious about Shuusei :eyes:

@yeonban

Recommend romantic candidates for my muses and see their reaction! (x) ― CURRENT CANDIDATE: Kagari Shuusei.

" He's good with children, he's sharp-tongued and he will not let someone like me to order him around. I mean it in times outside of our work, he knows that my orders and my plans are oriented for everyone's survival, but what I mean is that... I am a selfish one, I truly am ne who is open to those who he trusts and he doesn't let a lot of words slip out without meaning them. He's far more observant than many Enforcers and Investigators are, able to predict certain events without others' interference. He's true to himself and it leaves a wonderful impression on me. As we're living within the Sibyl Society, individuality seems to be losing its shape but Shuu himself proves that it's not fully gone even with the system's disgusting erasure of self-improvement and self-governance. He is a diamond in the rough for me, not following the rules given and if there was freedom for him, I know he'd shine even brighter. I am speaking from a biased perspective as well since we're very close, but it also means that he's gotten my respect and he knows me better than many. From his humor to his intelligence to his behavioral patterns, he is quite different to me and how he utilizes his strength, the people around him, the environment. He also seems to be more in-tune with emotions of others than I am, which can be a learning curve. Relationships are about support and love, learning and becoming better for each other, to stay together through hardships and wonderful times. I know he will be loyal, I know he will be devoted, but I also think he will remain independent. Mhmm, that's actually a very good quality knowing how I dislike to be tied down myself. Independent in life yet depending on each other for support if such will be needed. "

Sokolova hums as she looks into her reflection in the pond upon thinking more.

" He's good with children, he's sharp-tongued and he will not let someone like me to order him around. I mean it in times outside of our work, he knows that my orders and my plans are oriented for everyone's survival, but what I mean is that... I am a selfish one, I truly am: greedy and selfish. Shuusei won't let me go unhinged despite being rather violent when he wants to be as well, but what I mean is going down a worse path. He will be able to hold me back from doing something very scary by not caring about the world, because he knows the world won't be nice to him or will protect him. We would argue about morals, we would butt heads because we both are stubborn, he will not appreciate my lack of morality and my apathetic nature towards everyone else who I don't include on my own team personally. However, I think... he would be the warmth I need to, well, maybe become a stronger person. Not a 'better' person, but someone who would be able to become a bit more flexible. He is important to me already, but I don't know if he'll love me or even accept me if I were to let go of the game of acting. He knows me, yes, I did say it, but I don't want to put my hopes up and forward. He will always have a choice to remain or to go down his own way. He's a free spirit and I think that's also something that I appreciate because I will not be happy with someone who fully relies on me. He's quick-witted, isn't he? He'll be able to figure out how to live on if I were to get him and Victor out of Tokyo. I am certainly biased when I say this, but if I were to date Shuusei... With trial and error, I think he would be a wonderful romantic partner. Certainly, we'll have a lot of arguments here and there, I can already imagine them. But something tells me, he would be quite loving. It would be all worth it. But, well, it's just a what if, isn't it? I'm fine with things as they are right now. As long as his and Victor's smiles and lives are protected, I don't mind anything at all. Sibyl won't take them away from me. "

[erabundus]

❝  never?  ❞  the  balladeer  echoes  —  dragging  the  word  out  purposefully,  grating  on  what  frayed  and  tattered  nerves  MIGHT  REMAIN.  kunikuzushi  shakes  his  head,  feigning  incredulity.  perhaps  it  would  be  genuinely  convincing  were  his  propensity  for  theatrics  not  so  clearly  established.  ❝  you  truly  are  such  an  ARROGANT  excuse  for  a  human.  ❞  he  muses,  paying  no  heed  to  the  inherent  hypocrisy  of  that  accusation  —  whether  intentionally  or  otherwise.  the  sixth  does  occasionally  nudge  the  line  of  delusion  closely  enough  to  be  genuinely  unaware.  ❝  isn't  it  obvious?  you  don't actually  get  a  say  in  the  matter.  i  could  force  you  swear your undying  loyalty  to  the  fatui  until  your  voice  gives  out ... and you wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.  ❞  not  that  he  ever  would;  he  doesn't  hold  any  particular  allegiance  to  that  group  beyond  what  COOPERATING  with  them  will  net  him  in  return.  strength.  purpose.  divinity.  it's  simply  amusing  to  use  the  prospect  as  a  weapon  to  make  cyno  squirm.  

still,  for  all  he  may  THREATEN,  kunikuzushi  thinks  he  would  much  rather  reserve  this  new  source  of  entertainment  for  the  moments  wherein  it  feels  the  most  poignant  —  to  maintain  its  sharp  edge,  just  the  same  as  any  blade.  no  matter  how  resilient  they  might  be,  every  human  has  their  breaking  point.  even  the  diligent  and  righteous  general  mahamatra  can  be  worn  down  with  enough  time.  (  erosion,  his  mind  supplies  with  mockery.  )  he's  already  become  quite  the  HOLLOW  shell  of  what  he  once  was  —  but  he  still  hasn't  lost  his  ENTERTAINMENT  value.  it  would  be  a  shame  if  he  did ... and repurposing him as a puppet, though deliciously ironic, runs the risk of HASTENING the process.

more  importantly,  something  else  has  managed  to  sink  its  talons  into  his  FICKLE  attention.  kill  him?  hah.

❝  how  quick  you  are  to  forget ...  ❞  kunikuzushi  murmurs,  shaking  his  head.  in  an  instant,  the  calm  outer  shell  peels  away;  he  cants  his  head,  eyes  gone  unsettlingly  wide  —  like  a  ravenous  hawk,  having  spotted  a  field  mouse. preparing to dive in for the kill.  ❝  i  already  offered  to  put  you  out  of  your  misery.  don't  you  remember?  ❞  surely  the  doctor  couldn't  have  ravaged  the  contents  of  his  skull  that  terribly.  ❝  i  only  asked  one  simple  thing  of  you  in  return.  if  you  swore  loyalty  to  me  as  your  god ...  if  you  renounced  that  weak,  childlike  deity  while  you  had  the  chance,  you  wouldn't  be  in  this  POSITION.  ❞  head  shakes;  he  exhales  a  sigh  —  deliberately  loud  enough  for  the  other  to  hear.  (  but  of  course;  it's  nothing  if  not  performative.  )  ❝  but  you  would  rather  cling  to  that  pesky  sense  of  pride ...  and  for  that,  your  PUNISHMENT  is  to  suffer.  ❞   for  even  if  the  human  does  not  recognize  him  as  his  god,  that  won't  stop  kunikuzushi  from  administering  divine  retribution  all  the  same.

❝  there  are  some  fates  worse  than  death.  ❞  he  continues.  there's  irony  in  how  deeply  familiar  they  both  are  with  that  particular  fact.  ❝  i  hope  you  remember  that  when  you're  made  to  carry  out  crimes  you  would  probably  consider  UNFORGIVABLE  with  your  own  hands.  ❞  a  sneer.   ❝  i  hope  it  was  worth  it.  ❞

Only with the order did RELIEF come at last. The limb returned to his side, aching and sore with fatigue but abruptly returned to his control, as if a host of invisible wiring had snapped and detached to leave him free to simmer in his mounting trepidation. He made no mistake in thinking otherwise : this solace applied not to the alleviation of his knowing; of his newfound understanding of his place and all that awaited him. So long as the Doctor's device remained intact and receptive, there was nothing he could do to escape the unshakeable and UTMOST control that anyone might choose to enforce upon him.

Let it not be said that he'd endured the worst of the HORROR which fate had evidently seen fit to retain in his honour; every day that passed served as a poignant reminder of how unpredictable his circumstances were, and of how his life had been somehow set so utterly beyond all conceivable boundaries of his control.

Dully, he registered the way his provocations fell flat, bereaved of even this minor prerogative. In a way, his ability to rile the Balladeer to senseless violence had been a manifestation of control in his own right, but it seemed that he'd learned his lesson after all. How disappointing.

It was FASCINATING, the way suffering and torment could wear down even the most righteous hearts; how spite and vitriol became lesser evils in the face of greater torment; how those under duress were taken by a natural impulsion to spread it, an innate desire to receive harm and further propagate it like a farmer with a valued crop.

Cyno didn't think he'd ever been quite so spiteful; LOATHING had never occupied his heart in the manner in which it did so now, nesting within his chest and creeping through his vasculature, entwining itself with the very fabric of his being. Now it had, through means beyond his immediate understanding, almost become second nature. It was a revelation that brought him SHAME; to realize that he'd been so downtrodden as to have to resort to spitting and fighting and struggling in the manner of an animal caught in a trap, consumed by desperation and so POWERLESS.

And yet, even this ignominy PALED in the face of the Balladeer's ensuing proposition.

"Never." Cyno snarled, fury BLAZING anew like a bed of embers freshly fanned. It was the mere insinuation of blatant disloyalty that had struck a nerve, the inference of him turning his back on his nation and all that he held dear - it was nothing short of UNTHINKABLE.

"Kill me now and be DONE with it. Better to save yourself the time and TROUBLE."

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 30

The last chapter for the second arc.

THE ROAD SO FAR

The Man with the Rubber Duck Tie

John Price

Victory Cruise Ship, Port of Dover, UK

"Hey. You!" A patrol guard called making Price, Ghost and Alexandra stop on their tracks. They were already on the narrow and unimaginably squeaky clean hallways of the bottom of the cruise ship.

Price immediately pointed his stun gun, toward the two, nodding as they slowly raised their hands in surrender. His eyes were telling them to follow along and it was great that the two were actually getting his message.

"I caught em Sir, they were trying to sneak into the party." Price reported, his knees bent and stun gun ready to shoot.

"They don't look like party goers. Perhaps spies?" The officer asked Price, slowly approaching the trio, Price looked up at Ghost's fingers twitching. Two. Price knew what it meant. There are two tangos, which meant one was behind him and in one swift move, they could help them escape the situation they're in.

Price quickly tossed his stun gun and did a swift duck as he lifted the officer beside him and slammed it on the ground, Ghost caught the gun and fired it straight at the enemy behind him, sending him into an electric shock. The two fell down unconscious in just five seconds and the three ran up to the main hall.

"Roach? Soap? Alex? Does anyone copy?" Price asked, sounding a bit angry. The ship was already moving and he hoped Gary already had Gold Bar for extraction.

"It's only me now, Price. They got Roach, they're on their way to the east hall, I assume it's to the captain's quarters." Soap panting, his shoes squeaking on the shiny floor.

Alex tried to reply but as the ship moved farther from the dock, the signal was breaking and all they could hear was crackling static.

"Gold bar is still at the VIP Lounge but we don't know who he is. Shadow Company's plan is to prevent anyone from going out of the hall while they find Gold Bar." Soap added shedding light on the actual plan. Price now set their course to the main hall.

Price wasn't great at the Ship's layout, this wasn't in the blueprints. They only wanted to check on the cargo, but they ran, looking cautiously on every corner, hoping to see a staircase that led upward.

Ryder and Ghost were behind him, covering his Six and checking corners as he focused on looking for a way up, on the last turn he finally found what he was looking for.

He climbed straight up to the main hall confidently. He still has his Shadow Company gear and while he's not compromised he could take advantage of it.

"I'm assigned to this staircase, Mate. Go find your own spot." he muttered angrily, almost wanting to push the guard away. It actually worked as the former guard stepped back cautiously and walked away without a fight. Guess he saw it as an opportunity to rest. As soon as the British captain took over the spot, he immediately signaled Ghost and Ryder to move up and blend with the crowd.

"I actually got it." Soap whispered.

"I met a redhead with Roach's rubber ducky tie. He said they swapped ties. Since Roach was caught, that means…" he added.

"Rubber Ducky man is our Gold Bar." Price stated, never in his life would he have realized that that sentence would make sense, but it did.

"Exactly." Soap affirmed. Price now knew who to look for. The man with the Rubber Ducky Tie.

Price signaled Ghost and Ryder to look for Gold Bar. The strobe lights were flashing and it was making him dizzy, he actually had to sit this one out. The younger ones might be able to spot him.

The ship was increasing its speed as soon as it reached the fifteen minute mark. This meant trouble for the team as the faster they went, the farther they were from the dock. It'd be hard to protect a hostage for three hours without an exit.

Price stared at the flashing dance floor, it looked like he was blinking too fast and people inside were teleporting or flashing in and out of the place.

Party goers were being surrounded by the guards, they were being restricted from getting away from the main hall, as some were trying to enjoy the view of the deck.

Five minutes in and Alexandra Ryder emerged from the crowd, dragging along a very drunk man. As soon as he was close enough to vision and away from the strobing lights, Price confirmed the tie. This was their primary target.

"Let's get this one to safety and rescue Roach." Price muttered as Ghost immediately followed behind Alexandra, stepping down to the lower part of the ship where the rooms are.

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Victory Cruise Ship - Captain's Quarters

Roach found himself sitting on a chair, bound and unable to move. A potato sack covered his head, restricting his vision. He doesn't know where he is. But he does recall the last moments before he got there.

He was bouncing to the beat, trying to blend in with the party. He was by the door, cautiously spying on the three musketeers or huge guards as they looked for Gold Bar. Soap's instructions were clear. They're going to get someone they were tracking before the ship leaves.

Roach found it suspicious that they weren't moving an inch, so his guard went up and eyes locked on the richest people near the door.

Two girls, and one guy. Judging from intel, he knew that it was the guy. He was Gold Bar. Bouncing casually, he squeezed his way to his target and tried to talk to him, but as soon as he tried to save him, electric current coursed through his body, sending him to a shock as he dropped unconscious to the ground. His last thoughts were why and was he compromised?

"Gold Eagle. We have Gold Bar." Gary squirmed and tried to break free. He could hear a taser crackle as he attempted to escape.

"Great. I'll start contacting his father. I'm sure he's willing to donate a wealthy sum of money for his son's safety." Gary squirmed once more, this time it was strong enough to tilt the chair, but he was immediately pulled back.

"Let me identify the hostage. Take a picture of him." Shepherd said. If he was here, the team could easily end this man, right here and right now.

Gary's eyes squinted as soon as they pulled the potato sack, the harsh light blinded his eyes and it took moments for him to actually recover.

"This isn't our Gold Bar! He's blonde! It's supposed to be redhead!" He angrily yelled at the speakers. He wasn't here. And Gary had a hunch that Derek was their gold bar.

"But sir, we followed the tracker." One grunt complained.

"What tracker?!"

"I placed one on the target's tie. The event had strobe lights and he was difficult to spot."

Gary realized the chain of events that led to him here. Derek just wanted the rubber ducky tie to get attention and the moment they swapped, all eyes were on him. That's why they didn't move before the countdown.

"Wait a minute. Isn't this… a former 141?" Shepherd mused.

"Sanderson. What are you doing here?" the former general asked. Gary didn't want to answer.

"Partying." he spat. But Shepherd knew it's a lie.

"First you stole Samantha, my bargaining chip and now you're messing up with my gold bar?!"

"Shadow Company. Activate Intruder Protocol!"

he ordered.

Intruder Protocol. Gary had no idea what it meant but as soon as he said it, their shoulder patches started glowing blue.

"Detain everyone without a patch. Take them all as hostages." he ordered.

"As for you, you will walk the plank." Shepherd's angry stare was the last thing Gary saw before the television turned off. Guards started tying him tight and pushed him to the deck. Gary always loved watching Peter Pan as a kid, and it was a shame that his life is in danger the same way as in the movie.

Gary could take these three men pushing him to the deck, provided he wasn't tied up and he had weapons. Any act of violence towards them is an act of foolishness. And he only considers himself a fool for love.

He obediently followed the three musketeers on the way to the dock. Intruder Protocol was in effect as the party stopped and everyone without the glowing beacon was inspected and placed inside the heavily guarded rooms.

He hoped that the rest of his team were successful in securing and extracting Derek out of this mess. But then again, these rich party goers are already sufficient enough to fund the whole nuke project. A win-win for the Shadow Company. If only there was a way to stop them from mugging these people. A grand diversion.

Gary was already near the edge of the ship, the raging dark sea was calling out to him. Despite the life and death situation, all he could worry about is Shepherd's failed plan that still turned out successful. It was frustrating.

One step. The stun baton was turned off but it was being used to push him more. He wanted to buy more time. But it looked like it was the end of the line for him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Victory Cruise Ship - Hull Area, UK

"Shepherd's a wise man. If he can't get what he wants, he'll find another way even if it is risky." Price's words stuck on his head as he ran to the hull. Shepherd's a madman and if a good guy gone bad is capable of doing this, then Nero's far worse.

Clutching the c4 charges, he stealthily maneuvered the hull. Without a beacon glowing on his shoulders, he was a threat to everyone, at least that's what he noticed.

Titanic. They're going to blow up the hull, slowly sinking the ship. He doesn't have to worry about help as Price told him it's already on the way. Whatever that meant, Ghost had no choice but to follow.

The charges were set and he was on his way out, climbing the metal stairs without making a sound.

"Price, charges are set." he muttered to Alexandra, and she relayed it to the Captain.

"He said detonate it now." Ghost carefully paced as far as he could and clicked the remote detonator. A huge explosion followed making the ship tremble a little as alarms started to ring.

Ghost attempted to regroup with Price, but the way to their room was already crowded with the Shadow Company, so he instead ran up to the deck and circled around.

As soon as he got up, he noticed three tall men circling someone and pushing him off the ship. He couldn't mistake it, it was Roach.

He dashed toward the three as he saw Soap dash from the other side. They both pulled the of the tall guards and punched them unconscious but there was still one remaining. And that one grunt happened to push Roach off the ledge.

Ghost tried extending his hand but with Roach's hands tied up tight, all he could do was scream as he fell down to the ocean. Soap knocked the third person out and they were now clear. Ghost wanted to jump and save Roach, but without a rescue boat, it was useless. He remembered that help was on the way and hoped they would rescue him. Roach has to survive. Roach will survive.

"Needing assistance here. They're after us!" Price muttered over comms. Ghost slowly stood up and turned back. He was never going to forgive Shepherd for what he did.

END OF PART 2

Notification Squad my Beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @smokeywhalee @beemybee @ricinbach @whimsywispsblog

[9h4mn]

because it's love | oneus

➞ oneus as side characters that likes the fl

➞ angst, one sided love

➞ side characters, at times they bring more light to the show then the mcs themselves. how are the 6 guys of oneus as side characters that likes the fl?

note:

mc - main character

fl - female lead

ml - male lead

warnings: constant switching between stage name and real name, overly possessive mls, terrible fls, sad oneus

ravn:

the pretty boy type

i mean look at him and tell me he doesn't fit this trope

this type of side character is too pretty to be one. many would even argue that he looks better than the ml. he is also portrayed as somewhat vain and plain out confident in his looks

as this is youngjo, he doesn't come out as cocky. he really should be confident because he has the looks to match

so girls (and some boys) confessing to him weren't that much of a surprise. whats surprising however is the fact that not once had he accepted their confessions

people would try to solve the mystery between ravn and his muse but alas it was a mystery better left unsolved

his muse comes in the form of the fl. same neighborhood, same schools all their lives but there was never a chance for them to get close

and his only notable appearance in the fl and ml's story was the time a pissed off ml had punch youngjo to warn the others who stares far too long at the fl

that day ravn didn't knew what hurt more; his face, his ego, or his heart

deep inside that wasn't his concerns. he simply hoped that he wouldn't see fl's scared expression ever again

but how was he to know when the ml used his parents' influence to drive ravn away?

seoho:

the comic relief type

(|||❛︵❛.)

this type of side character has a life where its basically treated as a comedy. whether or not he's doing things intentionally, it will always be treated as a joke and yes it includes him feeling actual pain

seoho had liked his life where he could make everyone smile

he hated seeing sadness or frustration clouding a person and even if he isn't close to them, he tries his best to cheer them up

and while there are times it brings so much humiliation for seoho, their smiles are more than enough

that was what he had thought before he met fl

the fl was the apple of his eyes and that one thing that makes everything better

yet...

why was she laughing at him?

why was she not laughing with him?

how come she never takes him seriously?

he had tried so hard to change his approach or demeanor for even just a second of her stopping with that sneering look but it never happened

he was treated as a joke, he is just a joke for her

but at least she's smiling — he had tried to reason out with himself

true enough if he was in some romcom, a laugh track would insert itself as he was hurting

seoho was there for everyone but who was there for him?

leedo:

the caring type

he looks scary but we all know that isn't the case

this type of side character is just so nice and caring. they might not outwardly say they care but by their actions you could tell that they do

gunhak seriously looks unapproachable but the way he smiles and moves, it erases all the prejudice you had at first glance

that and maybe because he works with children

(yes its kindergarten teacher! leedo time)

parents had thought that their kids would have feared him but now he is their favorite teacher

listen he's just soft for the kiddos and the parents could see that

the fl is also a teacher there and her cubicle is even just across gunhak's

the way how he hovers the fl like some mother chick was not seen as suspicious. almost everyone got that same treatment

it seriously had hurt when the fl has just brushed off his efforts as him being nice. it wasn't that noticeable but he gave the fl more effort than he does to everyone else

though it didn't compare when fl got a boyfriend. it hurt really bad for leedo especially when he sees how well the ml treats her

that should have been him if only he had the courage

keonhee:

the loud type

not to be confused with seoho's

this type of side character is just loud. happy? he screams. sad? he screams. scared? he screams. surprised? he screams. basically screaming is almost his natural response

he tries to control his volume but seriously it is out of control

its a miracle that he still has friends that has no problem being out with him

keonhee is that loud

nearby his university was a cafe that he almost always frequent at

the food and drinks there were really his style... that and it was affordable for a college kid

what connection does that cafe have with the fl? she works there

originally keonhee had thought nothing much of the fl but when she pulled "oh, keonhee right? same order as last time?" he was gone

such simple thing and yet it had managed to steal his heart

that was the beginning of many more mixed signals from fl and keonhee naively thinking of it as a good sign

and then he had witnessed fl running up to ml's — a well known playboy if i may add — arms and kissing the living daylight out of him

fl was just being nice, he shouldn't have assumed

he cried himself to sleep that night

hwanwoong:

the "gay" best friend type

note: emphasis on the air quote ""

this type of side character is the fl's best friend. he is rumored to be gay — the fl herself thinks he's gay — but the truth is he is just one effeminate guy

and what was the problem of being more feminine? hwanwoong saw nothing wrong with it

unfortunately he has to deal with how people treats him with the assumption that he's gay

such a backward society. he could only imagine how much worse it is for those who are truly part of the lgbtq+

no wonder he became known as some social justice warrior... and truthfully it was quite a good distraction to reality

yes it deepens his gay rumors but it was a reasonable excuse for him to not see the fl and ml being lovey dovey with each other

his duo with fl turned into a trio but unlike her promises — and hwanwoong himself did knew better than to believe her — he was an outsider

maybe it was just wistful thinking when back then he believed she'd end up liking him back

even the ml isn't threatened by his presence and every day hwanwoong had hoped it wasn't that cause

maybe by then she'd realize that he too is a man in love

xion:

the ml's brother type

i apologize in advance for the dong twins enthusiast

this type of side character is the brother of the ml. him and the ml are typically seen bickering childishly but they in fact cares for each other

basically just dongju and dongmyeong being true siblings

growing up with his twin had meant a lot of shenanigans — good or bad who cares it was the two of them against the world

around middle school, they both had began having their own crowd and it even reached to high school

they were still brothers but it doesn't necessarily mean that they are close

enter fl. dongju had always told himself that he didn't trust fate but the day he met her he had hoped that they were fated for each other

unfortunately he didn't have that much chance to approach the fl. not only was it hard but it was also because he kept on hesitating

crushing on someone that badly was just new to him

but of course there is no happy ending here

dongmyeong had introduced fl as his girlfriend and the inferiority complex had really slapped xion on the face

he found himself constantly asking why that even he no longer remembers what he's been asking for

whether or not fate is real, it works quite mysteriously

©9h4mn | all contents belong to me. do not modify or repost.

[laraslandlockedblues]

Knock knock. Heeeey where did you go? Are you healthy? Have you been getting vitamin D?

Perfect gif if you had a ring doorbell camera.

Hiiiiii lovely!

I am healthy and have been getting enough vitamin D - I actually ended up tan this year which I haven't done in ages but apparently that IS a thing I can do! I turned so brown everyone around me has commented on it, even my MIL who swore she's never seen me this brown lol. As for the *other* vitamin D...hehehe 😉

To be more serious - this year has been a doozy. Even after - or maybe because of - the year that was 2020. First off I can't believe we're close to the end of July? I - ?

But I've gone through a lot of strange things that have just made being here harder for me. My muses dried up as I struggled with life, and I allowed them because I hate forcing writing. I feel like it makes it worse on the reader too if they can tell the writer's heart isn't in it. I also just allowed the muses to dry up because I was finally in a position to take care of myself - I've entered therapy and been focusing on figuring out my mental health, which hasn't meant quite as much obsessive escapism into fic writing or tumblr. As much as I've missed writing, I've been so happy to actually have the time (including not moving around for a bit) to really figure myself out. I figure through the process and on the other side I'll find the inspiration to write but right now it's just been about my MH journey.

I don't talk about therapy here in this answer for sympathy points - more like I think more people should be like "yeah I go to therapy, so what?" Therapy is for everyone. It really, really is. I'm insanely lucky that I'm at a place/point/etc. that I've been able to make this happen for me. Therapy works and is amazing and isn't anything to be ashamed of.

Ok PSA over.

I can tell my muses are still there - I want to work on Lost on You, and After Rain, and Lovers & Dreamers, and my Vampyr fic, and Skyrim, and Mass Effect, and even my SDV fic. But I'm allowing myself time.

Also because right now the muse when it's there has been pulling toward my novel - it's 3/4 of the way done. I am S T O K E D.

Anyway I'm sorry this was a long-winded way of saying yes I'm alright! Possibly better than I've been lol. That has been a journey all on its own, realizing I can be better. It's a lot I'll be honest. Writing will happen but also time for myself has been...refreshing. And wonderful.

Thank you for checking in darling, I hope you've been well! I do tend to check DMs occasionally in case anyone needs me. 😘

Love,

Lara

[reyskyber]

Love isn't all that it seems (I did you wrong).

I’m not entirely sure where this came from?  I had my writing playlist on shuffle and a song called “Burning House” by Cam came on.  I thought nothing of it, then last night while I was trying to sleep this idea got stuck in my head.  So, here we are.  I’m taking this as one of my last chances to write my post S4 angst stuff that’s been going around my mind. (Title and lyrics taken from Burning House by Cam)

I had a dream about a burning house,

You were stuck inside I couldn’t get you out.

 The world had ended.  Again. Now that they’d had time to stop and actually catch their breath (for what felt like the first time in months), Bellamy actually had time to think everything over.  

The ring was the perfect place to do so.  It was quiet save for the low machine hum; familiar and nostalgic, but also unwelcome and different all at once.  He’d grown used to the loud clanging of broken parts on factory station, and then to the quiet chirping of birds and other animals on the ground.  Until they’d all stopped.

The chatter dies away as he extracts himself from the group. Obviously overjoyed about surviving, their excitement was too much for Bellamy at that moment.

He wanders around the ring for a while, not really focussing on where it is he’s going, just walking.  It was something he’d always done, even in the tiny room he shared with his mother and Octavia.  Pacing and walking to clear his mind.  Except now, he can’t clear his mind at all.

Thoughts race through his mind, all of them bringing up mixed emotions. Relief that they made it; it’s short lived and is soon followed by a ripping pain and grief that feels like his heart is being ripped apart and forcing itself up his chest.  Tears burn his eyes and he blinks them away, stopping his pacing.

He opens his eyes and feels a bitter laugh rise through his chest.  Of all the places to stop, here he is at the window that faces the burning Earth.  The same burning Earth that holds Clarke.  He tries to bat the thoughts away but they creep into the back of his mind; images of Clarke running from the death wave, the radiation soaking its way through the suit, her face when-

He clenches his fists and bites his lip, hard.  He tastes the familiar metallic tang of blood, and feels his injured wrists cry out in agony, but it’s still not enough to dull the pain in his chest, not enough at all.

He looks down and sees a bottle.  He frowns and picks it up.  As he looks back up he takes the time to actually look at the ground now.  He tries to make out the patch of Earth that they landed on, somewhere in North America, he knows.  But the entire world is aflame, everything is fire and ash and he can’t tell where the oceans start and stop, never mind the separate countries.

“She saved us again,” comes a quiet voice to his left.  He snaps his attention over to see Raven staring out at the burning world too.  

He wants to say something, anything.  But his throat feels like it’s closing in and each breath feels like shards of glass making their way down to his chest.  Instead, he clenches his jaw and nods.  He can see the orange fires reflected in Raven’s eyes, tears welling in hers too.  He turns his attention back to the burning ground, back to Clarke.  His heart burns painfully at the thought.

“You think we can do this without her?”  Raven voices quietly, her voice thick form the unshed tears.  Bellamy stops for a moment.  It’s a thought that’s been on his mind since they, no he, decided to leave her behind.  Hell, it was racing through his mind before that, when she told him he’d have to use his head if anything happened to her.  She was right, he thinks to himself.  His heart stutters painfully and he steels himself, willing his voice to work.

“If we don’t,” he begins.  His voice sounds faraway, like he isn’t really aware of what he’s saying.  “She died in vain.”  Tears well in his eyes again and pain ripples through his chest at the admission that yes, Clarke is gone.  No, not gone, dead.  

“And I’m not gonna let that happen.”  He stares out at the burning Earth but isn’t really seeing it.  His mind is running in a million different directions and he can’t stop the tightening feelings in his chest.  Raven has stayed quiet, letting him finish.

“You with me?”  He asks, turning his head towards her.  He can see tears building up in her eyes, the same as his own.  She steels herself before turning to him.

“Always.”  

 ***

 I’ll stay here with you until this dream is gone.

It’s the only place that I can hold you tight.

 He’s not sure when it became a habit, sitting by the window.  Back on the Ark, there was always work to be done, or something to do for Octavia, or a “random” inspection to prepare for.  But now, on the ring, there was nothing to do. They’d rationed the food and Monty had started the algae farm up.  Bellamy had always seen himself as somewhat of a leader on the ground, but he’d always had Clarke.

Up here, he was alone.

Raven took over most of the delegation of tasks, keeping everyone (except him) busy.  They seemed to have an unspoken agreement that he needed more than just something to keep his mind off everything.  Most days he’d walk around the ring, keeping out of the others’ way.  He’d join them for dinner, but found it difficult to engage in conversation with the group.

Eventually, he’d given up entirely.  Resorting to half conversations about simple things like what was for dinner (likely algae), some days even that was too much.  He avoids looking out of the windows as much as possible, not wanting to see the only place that had felt like home to him gone in a wave of fire and death.  

He muses over that sometimes, how a camp of a hundred kids and wooden fence poles had felt more like home than four solid metal walls ever did.  It was the freedom, he supposes.  But deep down he knows that it was them that made it, the hundred, they made him feel wanted, not just needed for once.  

Some days are worse than others, he knows this.  If being on the ground had taught him anything, it was that loss and grief were a turbulent whirlwind of a combination; constantly moving, changing, and never still.  He knew this even before landing on the ground.  

 That’s probably how he ends up staring out of the window that faces the ground.  On his bad days he stares out at it, thinking everything over.  The ash has settled, the fire has stopped.  Nothing remains of the home he treasured so dearly. Everything is coated in grey and red from what he can see all the way up in space.  Sometimes, he thinks he can see a patch of green off in the distance through the ash cloud, but the cloud shifts again and then it’s gone.  It’s wishful thinking, he knows, to think that there is one strip of land for them to go back to.  

Other days, he thinks of the conversations he’d have with the people he’s lost.  There’s not much to do up in space, after all; no wars to fight, no elections to hold, no prisoners to break out.  Just the long expanse of time and nothing but his own thoughts to fill it with.

Somehow, no matter what he starts thinking about, his thoughts always drift back to Clarke.

It starts with his mother, the first person he lost.  He’d like to tell Aurora about the hundred kids with the same Ark-issued boots with rips in the clothes and fire in their eyes.  Bellamy likes to think he’d tell her about the good stuff �� the teamwork of building the walls, of the hunting parties that were just like the ones from the old stories she used to tell him.  And, of course, he’d tell her about the bad stuff too – about throwing out Raven’s radio, about Charlotte and his erroneous advice.  

He’d tell her about Clarke, of course.  Of how this stuck-up, self-righteous Princess got under his skin from day one. His mother would raise an eyebrow at him and give him a knowing smile and he’d scowl back at her with a barely concealed smile of his own.  He doesn’t even know where he’d begin to explain Clarke to his mother.  She’d love Clarke, he knows, it was difficult not to, really.  But how could he explain how she worked her way under his skin?  Entirely by accident, and without him noticing at all, until he could turn to her once day and know in his heart that that’s my person.  

He takes a breath and leans forward, resting his forehead on the cool glass. Hot tears well up in his eyes and he blinks them out.  Salty tears track down his face but he can’t even gather the energy to lift his hand to wipe them away.  

He’s so exhausted, from everything.  From trying to survive on the Ark, to surviving on the ground, to fighting for his life, to leaving the ground again and leaving Clarke behind.  

Now, with nothing to fill his days, it’s like every wrong decision he made over the past year has caught up on him, weighing heavy in his chest and on his shoulders.  Nothing seems to make the load lighter, the pain bubbles up and over some days and he finds himself curled up, unable to feel anything and feeling everything all at once.  He lets the tides wash over him, let the pain drown him.  It feels right, he thinks, he deserves this after everything he has done.

I left her behind.  The thought races through his mind over and over, and he can’t stop it.  He feels darkness settle on the edge of his vision.  When was the last time he slept?  He doesn’t know anymore, everything blurs into one and he lets the pull of sleep take over.  In his last few shards of consciousness he sees wisps of blonde hair and burning, bright, red-hot fire.

He doesn’t sleep easily anymore.

 ***

 I'll stay here with you

Until this dream is gone

 He tries to pull himself together, knowing Clarke would want him to lead their friends in her place.  His chest still hurts, but it’s more of a dull ache now than a constant stabbing.

After six months on the ring, things are starting to improve.  Monty has the algae farm working – it tastes worse than the rations on the ark and the jobi nuts on the ground, but it’s food. Now there’s more to do; different kinds of algae to try and grow, improvements to the ring to be done, inventory to be carried out.  Bellamy tries to help more now, feeling he can face the day a little easier.

If anyone has anything to say about Bellamy’s absence from the group over the past six months, they don’t say it to his face; for that, he is grateful.

Some days are still worse than others.  Some days, he still finds himself staring out at the window, wishing he could hear Clarke’s voice.  Hoping he’ll hear that she’s proud of him, that he’s doing okay.  

It’s what she would have wanted.

[xsoteria]

.