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arigatouiris · 4 years ago

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an inconvenient crush // kozume kenma x reader (2/2)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the support! I really appreciate people coming in and telling me you liked my story! Makes me feel so loved and valid, I can’t even begin to tell you how special it makes me feel. Here’s the final part! Do let me know what you think! Thank you so much :”)

Word count: 4k+

Pairing: YouTuber! Kenma Kozume x Streamer! Reader

Summary: YouTuber Kozume Kenma has had the biggest crush on Twitch Streamer, (s/n) (y/n), who in actuality simps heavily after Kenma’s secret YouTube persona, puddinghead0.

What happens when their paths cross?

Kuroo is honestly tired of Kenma’s second-guessing, and (y/n) is a bit of a crackhead.

Warnings: unrequited love, one-sided crush, slight angst, pining, crackhead reader, internet bullying, slang, gaming references, haikyuu manga spoilers, fluff

C h a p t e r T w o: kozume in love

Kenma chuckled when he heard you scream over the controller. The both of you were currently fighting a boss named Martyr Logarius, and while you had beaten the game once, playing it in Newgame+ was extra hard. Kenma was certainly helping, but you had made a silly mistake and died for the fourth time in a row.

"You're dodging too early," Kenma said, still chuckling, "But it is entertaining to see you dodge in such panic."

"Shut up," You groaned over the microphone, earning more chuckles from him, "I'm trying, okay?"

"You beat this game, you said?"

"Ahhh!"

Kenma laughed some more, now covering his face with his hand. He could hear you laugh out of frustration as well, but while this entire orchestration felt funny to both of you, Kenma's heart bubbled dangerously. He loved the sound of your voice, and he absolutely adored the way you groaned and cursed at the bosses each time you died or each time you defeated them. You were good, and even as the game tested you, you trod on. He could see you loved gaming in its entirety, and slowly, he was learning more about you.

"I need a beer." You sighed.

"This game does that to you," Kenma leaned back against his bean bag, "I mean... Not to burst your bubble, but you do suck."

"Oye," You warned playfully, "I'm a streamer."

"Anyone can stream, (y/n)."

There was silence on the other end after that, but Kenma didn't think it was anything odd. The co-oping between you two was going on for a few days now, and it would last up to 5-7 hours at most. It was strange that despite college, you two managed to find time to sit and play, but after a point, it had become more than just the game. You began to crave his voice, crave the way he'd be there, whenever you were about to run low on health, he'd come over and give you time to heal.

Co-oping with Kenma was fun because it felt, oddly, as if he really cared.

"(y/n)?"

"I always thought you sounded familiar," Kenma blinked, "But I think hearing you say more words sort of... gave it away."

"Gave what away?" Kenma's heart was pounding now.

"Kozume-kun," He didn't want to hear the rest, "Are you puddinghead0?"

It took him several seconds to process what you said. He could practically feel his heart beat against his ears, and he could sense you getting impatient at him as well.

"Kozume—"

"How did you know?"

You took a few moments to answer.

"I... I've been a fan for too long not to recognize your voice, really. I just... I guess I had to hear you through the microphone to instantly pick it up? I don't know I... Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to know."

"Oh," His heart broke at how low you sounded. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't ask you because I knew you were him or anything! I asked you as Kozume—"

"Right."

"No, listen," You were panicking now, "I assure you, I didn't know until recently. I didn't even think... I never—"

"What did you picture him as, (y/n)?"

"What do you—"

"I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—"

"Don't say that! I really enjoy playing with you, and... I never even pictured how you'd look in the first place!"

"Sure—"

"Can we meet? Please, let me just—"

"Not happening. It was nice playing with you, (y/n). I hope you get the platinum—"

"Please, don't do this."

When Kenma hesitated, he knew that it was no longer an inconvenient crush. His fingers trembled and he couldn't look away from the television screen. His chest hurt and he was certain that his shirt was drenched.

"Please, let's—"

"Where do you want to... meet?"

"Oh, thank goodness," Your genuine relief made him want to laugh, "I was so certain you'd hang up. Oh, thank god. Uh, I don't know. You live near campus?"

He narrowed his eyes, "What campus?"

"Tokyo University?"

"You go here too?"

"Literature student! You go here? You mean to say the puddinghead0 goes to—"

"Please, just never call me that, okay?"

"Where do you want to meet?"

"I... Just come to campus, we'll figure it out."

What normally took Kenma 12 minutes took him 17 now. He spent some time pacing back and forth on whether to go or not, before understanding that he couldn't back out after assuring you that he'd be there. He wondered if you would come as a fan or as his friend (were you his friend?), but the foremost thing that Kenma worried about was what your interaction with him would be about. Why did you want to meet him? What explanation did you want to give?

Maybe she wants to thank me, he thought as he walked forward, finally bucking up and realizing that he might actually need to meet you alone as himself.

He noticed that you were waiting outside the gates of the campus, airpods plugged in, head rocking lightly to some music that you were listening to. From a distance, you caught sight of him and waved almost hesitantly, shooting his heart to the skies. Your hair was tied in a messy bun and you were wearing anime merch, a Bakugou shirt with regular jeans. No matter what you wore, Kenma thought you were ridiculously pretty. Kenma had always thought you were pretty, from the very first video that you uploaded. He caught your stream in Kuroo's laptop when he had come over, and apparently it was your first time. You were hesitant and shy, but it gradually died down the more you played. Kenma found himself laughing so much that it alerted Kuroo, who had understood right away that you held a special place in Kenma's mind since no one could make Kenma laugh quite like you could.

When he was a few feet away from you, you looked at him awkwardly before he noticed you were red-faced. Is she... blushing?

"U-Uh, yeah so uh," She was so nervous that it was making him feel weird, "I don't want to treat you differently but I just realized that I was gushing to you about puddinghead not knowing that you are, in fact, puddinghead and god, I feel like an idiot."

Kenma had to laugh at that before shaking his head, "It's fine, I don't get too many compliments anyway."

"You had me simping all over you and you knock that down as compliments? Please teach me the art of modesty, senpai."

Kenma laughed some more before letting out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. You were taking breaths now yourself; you were standing beside someone who had literally inspired you to start streaming gameplay, and you had no idea that you were playing alongside him all this while until he had practically confirmed it not too long ago. Of course, a part of you felt weird that he never told you himself, but perhaps he wanted to keep it a secret. Also...

He had been watching your streams. Kenma had admitted that as himself the first time you had met. You could practically die.

"There's this cafe down this road," You said, suddenly feeling a lot bolder, "We won't have to stand around awkwardly then."

"Alright."

The walk wasn't quiet, you were desperately trying to think of something to talk about, and you were mumbling a few things here and there about Bloodborne, and he commented back; but neither of you found your heart in the conversation and kept going because you didn't know how to handle the silence. While you admired Kenma, Kenma was also aware that you had no idea the feelings he had for you.

It made him feel a bit inadequate, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

When you reached the cafe, Kenma and yourself took the seats outside. You took in his appearance properly for the first time that evening; his hair tied in a messy, loose ponytail and wearing baggy clothing with black jeans and sneakers. Kenma was gorgeous, you wouldn't deny that, especially now that your heart was bubbling with excitement over how he was your YouTube idol. Strangely, his question rang in your mind:

What did you picture him as, (y/n)?

Your eyes softened at Kenma as he checked his phone for a minute; unable to look away. You stared at him the way folks stare at a rainbow, taking in all that unexpected beauty, not wanting to look away in case it might disappear. You felt yourself blushing when he looked up to meet your gaze, almost feeling time stop. But, you were too much of an overthinker to let that happen.

I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—

"Kozume-kun," What am I doing? "I can't picture anyone but you."

He was now staring at you like you were an idiot mumbling rubbish. He gulped, you could see the rise and fall of his adam's apple, but he wasn't saying a word.

"A few months ago, when I started the channel on Twitch, I could do it only because of you. You inspired me to upload my own gameplay because I now had a platform to be proud of it. But as Kozumu-kun, you gave me the courage to not only be proud of my gameplay but to see what's actually important," You smiled as you said, "Fun."

"You're giving me way too much credit."

You shook your head, "We don't always realize how little exchanges that we have with people cause ripple effects. Playing with you these past few days reminded me of what streaming for views made me forget. Views don't matter, the fun does. I let those comments get to me because the views mattered to me, and they still do. But, that's not everything. I learned that from you."

Kenma didn't know what to say.

"So when you figured out that I was... the YouTuber—"

"Puddinghead—"

"—Yeah, that. Didn't you think I lied to you?"

You shook your head, "You never had a face reveal, which meant that you wanted to keep it a secret. So why would I feel like you lied? You had every reason to—"

"Stop being so fucking adorable, it's actually pissing me off." Kenma snapped without realizing.

Both of your eyes widened—Kenma's and yours—at the words that exited his mouth. Your face was flaming at what he said, and Kenma probably felt like a suicidal ostrich. He wanted to bury his head under the ground and never rise, for that would keep him away from the embarrassment that was due; he could hear Kuroo's laughter in the distance, which made it all the worse.

"I'm... I'm not trying to be cute, you know?" You said, tilting your head a little, playing with a strand of your hair.

Kenma frowned at you, wondering now if you were doing it on purpose.

"What are you... doing?"

"There's a word for it!" You pointed an index finger in the air, "Hanker sore."

Kenma scoffed, "What's that?"

"It's finding someone so attractive that it pisses you off."

Kenma blushed, "Y-You're not all that attractive, you just... come across as cute sometimes."

Your eyes widened, "I'm a catch!"

He bit his lower lip, "Yeah, sure."

"Hey! I am a total catch, you could like totally fall for me!"

Kenma's heart skipped a beat, "Yeah, sure."

While you were sitting across him having a struggle over how he easily pushed away your claims, Kenma stared at you like you were all he could see, and as if you were a sight that he would forget if he didn't drink in your details at this very second. A moment later, you gasped before leaning forward.

"I think we should get something."

"Let's actually... go get your platinum."

Your eyes widened, "You... don't mind?"

He shook his head now that he was absolutely certain, "No, let's go back."

You were beaming and thanking him, acting as if he suddenly wasn't the YouTuber you had been simping after, treating him like a separate individual that he was, behaving as you would with anyone else; Kenma's worries dissipated in thin air, he was now confident that he had fallen in love with you, mind, body, and soul—your voice had ensnared and captured him, and now, your revelation had done the deed of claiming his heart.

"Oh, and," Kenma said, "No one will know."

You nodded before throwing him a mock salute, "Of course!"

You were legitimately freaking out.

Kenma had followed you as puddinghead on your professional Twitter and you had been staring at the screen for close to an hour now. You weren't sure if the reason for your heart to be beating the way it was was because Kenma was puddinghead or because you had finally learned what puddinghead looked like, but whatever it was, the feeling was intense.

Are these feelings romantic though? You wouldn't lie, before you knew puddinghead's face, you had pictured meeting him and dating him—the regular daydreaming that a person would do for the person they were simping after. And while those thoughts were innocent, now puddinghead had a name. Puddinghead was Kozume Kenma, an attractive college student, CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp, and YouTuber. Your mind was taking you to places, and juxtaposing your previous fantasies now with Kenma's face. No, no, no, you scolded yourself before covering your face with your hand. Yes, discovering his identity is huge, but don't forget, he thinks of you as a friend!

You were about to join his party on the PSN and co-op Bloodborne again, but all you could think about were how long Kenma's fingers were when they were placed on the table before you that day when you met him in the cafe.

You were practically out of it.

"Hey, Kozume-kun!"

"You know you can call me Kenma, right? I call you (y/n)."

"O-Oh," Your face reddened uncharacteristically. "R-Really?"

You heard Kenma chuckle and your heart was ready to combust, "Yeah, what's there to think about?"

Oh dear lord, "Okay. Uh... So..."

"So."

"Uh."

"(y/n)?"

Fuck, "K-Kenma-kun."

Kenma had his hand covering his jaw at how cute you sounded, but you were practically jelly yourself. It wasn't easy learning the identity of your internet crush and having to play with them as friends. It wasn't easy to accept these facts and to admit that maybe, just maybe, the person that they are in real life was equally attractive.

"We have to beat the Shadows of Yharnam today."

Did his voice always sound like velvet?

"Hm, I've heard they were relatively easy?"

"No," He said chuckling, "To you, they're definitely going to be a challenge."

When he chuckles, I feel like I'll die.

"Didn't you play against them without co-op?"

"Oh, yeah," You could practically picture him rubbing the back of his neck, "I did co-op for Gherman in the end, though."

Fuck, he's so cute!

"What?" Kenma asked, sounding confused.

"What?"

"You said 'he's so cute', you mean Gherman?" You gasped, "(y/n), he's... he's an old man?"

"Y-Yeah! Haha, I mean... Yeah. It's... I was..."

Kenma laughed before asking you to continue before you slapped yourself for making such a big fool out of yourself. Snap out of it, you scolded yourself once more. You can't like Kenma-kun just because you know he's puddinghead.

But, did you?

As days passed, you exchanged numbers with Kenma. Texting him was relatively easy since he barely tried to keep the conversation alive and you just had so much to say. Sometimes, Kenma believed he might be boring, but you kept texting him as if his personality wasn't really that much of a bother. He wasn't much of a texter, and you had caught on, a fact that didn't actually bother you. Kenma, however, would never leave you on read, would try to reply within the hour even though he doesn't text as often.

Your mind, however, revolved around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

You were re-reading the tweets almost every night, and juxtaposing the image of an empty face with Kenma's. For some reason, puddinghead's image was slowly erasing itself from your mind; you became less fascinated with the YouTube persona, but instead, looked forward to hearing from his real-life identity, trying to know more about his day, about his other interests, and having learned that he was from Nekoma blew your mind since he was from a rival school.

Kenma and you often met at the cafe again, just to grab a few snacks and talk about games. It would be you most of the time who would be initiating conversation, and Kenma would listen and retort when he felt the need to. However, not once did you feel like he wasn't listening; not once did Kenma make you think you weren't keeping him engaged. His eyes were on you, his intense gaze enough to burn you to the ground. It practically had you shivering.

Your mind, however, still continued to revolve around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

"I might need to go to a volleyball game soon—"

"Why did you send me a heart?"

Kenma froze before meeting your gaze. "What?"

You almost wanted to slap yourself but you had said it. You couldn't hold it back, you couldn't keep mulling over your thoughts and therefore, you decided to tell the source of your problems what your problems were.

"Kenma-kun, I... I had a big crush on puddinghead," Kenma's gaze on you was unwavering, "Now that I know you're puddinghead, and... and you were the one who sent me a heart, I... I've always thought you were cute and all—"

"(y/n)—"

"—and it's a bit unfair if I like you only because you're puddinghead, but I gave it a lot of thought—"

"—(y/n), listen—"

"—and I don't want you thinking that my feelings are just because you're a famous YouTuber and I just want to like... I don't know... I enjoy every second with you and slowly I just—"

Kenma's finger tapped your forehead, freezing you in position. His cat-like eyes were boring into your soul, and there he was, face inches away from yours, expressionlessly staring into you.

"I've been in love with you for the longest time," Kenma's voice was gold, "No pressure, though."

"No..." What the fuck? "N-No pressure?!"

Kenma laughed at your outburst, "Yeah, I mean... I took sometime accepting it, to even think that I liked you over the internet didn't make sense to me. And then we bumped into each other and we started gaming together and I guess I understood that your internet persona was just a part of you I'd liked, and now I like you more."

Oh.

Was it really that simple?

"So... If I liked you as puddinghead—"

"Please don't call me that."

"—and if I like you as Kenma-kun, then..."

Kenma sighed before offering you a sweet smile, "It's probably the same thing, (y/n). Stop worrying."

"Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, without thought.

God, this woman, Kenma thought, before covering his jaw with his hand.

In less than a week, you'd learned the route to Kenma's apartment by heart. You went over to game at his place, and slowly began streaming as (y/n) again on Twitch. You didn't want to stream with Kenma yet, because you guys had just started dating a month ago. For liking you longer than you liked him, Kenma was relatively cool about you hanging over at his, and about initiating any sort of touch—because your thoughts were practically spilling out of you and as cute as he once thought they were, he didn't want you to say 'pinch me' every time he kissed you.

Kenma's hands were buried into your hair as he kissed you fervently, softly at first before pulling back to see how flushed your face was. He'd never really imagined you being here, out of the screen he saw you from, in his arms, kissing him back.

He chuckled at the thought.

"What's so funny?" You were legitimately a crackhead, but he adored you.

"I thought having a crush on you was very inconvenient at first."

"Why?"

He shrugged before pulling you to his chest, your face reddening at the contact. He noticed, but simply shook his head as you buried your face into his chest.

"Because I thought it was too good to be true."

"Am I the one freaking out each time or are you?"

"Yeah, that part even I don't get."

You giggled before wrapping your hands around his neck, bringing yourself closer to him. Your face was at the crook of his neck, eyes closed as his arms were wrapped around your waist. You were both currently on Kenma's couch, nuzzling with each other on a lazy class-less Monday.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Kenma's roommate, in all honesty, did not know how to react when a famous Twitch streamer was lying asleep on his roommate. Kenma gave him a nonchalant look before placing a finger on his lips.

"She's asleep."

"Y-Yeah, that's definitely what I was thinking." The roommate said before rushing to his room and locking the door.

Well, Kenma thought before bringing his hand back around your waist, That's a problem for another day.

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stilitana · 3 years ago

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time for new year's day review of what i read last year...i'm very happy with the reading i did, much of it was so good for me...i read 41 books which sounds like way more than i remember so here are highlights

cannot believe how slippery time has gotten because i was so sure the first book i read this year was stone butch blues, but no, that was 2020. the first book i read was house fires by nancy reisman and i really liked this collection of three parts of interlinked stories. the end made me tear up.

other short story collections i liked:

i hold a wolf by the ears by laura van den berg (very spooky in a low-key way, if it had a soundtrack it would be all synth)

a visit from the goon squad by jennifer egan

birds of america by lorrie moore

monstress by lysley tenorio

kolyma stories by varlam shalamov (not all 1k pages but quite a bit)

trash by dorothy allison (one of my favorite things i read this year)

some novels i liked:

interior chinatown by charles yu (this was so fun, so playful and inventive with the form and structure)

milkman by anna burns

the end of days by jenny erpenbeck (this one was really, really good and challenging)

the underground railroad by colson whitehead

there there by tommy orange (i listened to him give a zoom reading and his voice + audio quality sounded like the godspeed you! black emperor monologue in dead flag blues)

luster by raven leilani

housekeeping by marilynne robinson

freshwater by akwaeke emezi

i finished the brothers K but that took me 4 years so don't get full 2021 credit for that one

i also read some novels that were truly atrocious but i don't want to think about them so moving on

novellas: i love novellas so so so much a good novella is such good shit, it gives you the urgency & brutal efficiency of short story but lets it stretch out and simmer like a novel...some of my fav things are novellas

mcglue by ottessa moshfegh (this is my favorite thing i've read of hers so far...perfect length for the story just perfect would likely have been an atrocious novel)

things have gotten worse since we last spoke by eric larocca (honestly didn't know this one was causing minor internet controversies when i read it but tbh getting to analyze reader reactions to the story & author made it more interesting to me, otherwise wouldn't really have thought much of it, but it absorbed me for an evening)

khirbet khizeh by s. yizhar

sofia petrovna by lydia chukovskaya (this was a reread)

minor detail by adania shibli (this is one of my top things i read all year. maybe the best thing i read all year. absolutely astonishing it cracked my brain open. i'm going to read it again some day.)

i didn't read much poetry. i did read mistaken for loud comets by lily someson and it was brilliant, loved it. also IRL by tommy pico

memoirs/essay/nonfic:

i started secondhand time, but i'm going to return to that and give it a fresh start, maybe this year

s/he by minnie bruce patt

butch is a noun by s. bear bergman (i'm in love w him i'm reading the nearest exit may be behind you now)

gender failure by ivan coyote and rae spoon

in the dream house by carmen maria machado

i didn't really read any genre fiction this year...i tried gideon the ninth but didn't get far, maybe another time. i have some i really want to get to, some sci fi stuff, but i guess this year instead of putting in the effort to get cracking on that, i just read fic instead, which is usually my easy go-to when i'm craving what i tend to want when i reach for genre fiction, which is...to not be wherever i currently am, physically or emotionally...which means that honestly i tend not to remember most of the fics i read because i'm devouring them in states of high anxiety & insomnia lol. but one i really really remember and still think about is this blade runner one, conspiracies of the body by geometrician, maybe because the quality and style struck me as so novelistic that it snapped me out of my usual mindless fic speed reading and i actually felt like i was reading a really original gritty neo-noir sci fi cyberpunk type novel. it was good i'll read it again sometime

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pebblysand · 4 years ago

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OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

#castles #is out baby #whoop whoop

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werejusttouchingeachother · 5 years ago

Text

PARIS 2017 [September 29th, 12:47AM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 T/W: mild cursing? Words: 4579

“Have you been here before?”

Baekhyun’s voice sounds clearer in the cool Parisian night, clearer than you’d heard it before. Maybe it’s because it’s the first time you’re actually paying attention solely to the man beside you and just allowing your feet to carry you mindlessly around the city whose streets had been committed to memory but his words sound crisp and melodic.

You’d always liked his voice. Although you listened to EXO’s songs a lot and maybe had a slight liking towards Sehun—he was cute and you loved his husky but smooth raps—you’d always appreciated Baekhyun’s vocals, especially the bridges with his high-notes.

However, you never expected to hear this voice so close.

And especially not to moan in your ear in a dark room as he laid on top of you.

Your brain momentarily crashed like the pages of an internet browser as the memory of what happened earlier today resurfaced and you cleared your throat involuntarily, realising simultaneously that he was waiting for you answer.

Shit. What had he asked? Oh, right, if you’ve been here before.

“What, Paris?” You asked, looking around for the first time since you stepped out of the hotel and nodding. “Yeah, quite a bit. It is the fashion central, after all. Even before the boutique, I used to visit to research and learn. I was an apprentice here for a while.”

“Did you study designing then?” Baekhyun asked curiously, moving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

You hesitate, not knowing what exactly to say and how much of it you could say. Several veteran designers in the industry still considered you a ‘rookie’ and a ‘newbie’ but you’d been around for more than a couple of years and it was enough to have several interviewers ask you the same question that Baekhyun had just asked and still have you momentarily pause the exact same way.

Baekhyun shoots you a glance at your silence and you clear your throat again, answering, “Not... exactly. My parents weren't exactly supportive of me so I was forced to attend medical school. I’d been failing because I busied myself with a lot of work on the side to make money so I could drop out and pursue what I actually wanted.”

You’re regretting the words as soon as they’ve left your mouth, already wondering if you’ve said too much. Especially since this was your first actual conversation and a small teeny tiny part of you didn’t want it to be the last which is why you were worried if you’d scared him away already with your sob story of how you went from rags to… well, designer.

Baekhyun nods, his eyebrows furrowed more in an expression of concern rather than awkwardness at hearing something quite personal as he slowly says, “I guess it worked then?”

You laugh at his hopeful tone, replying, “In the most chaotic way, yeah, I think so. The medical school kicked me out because of my grades and low attendance and that lead to my parents kicking me out of the house so I just took all the money I had and worked multiple jobs that would all help me pay to reach my goal and as hellish as that was, it worked out in the end.”

You trail off and notice that Baekhyun is staring at you intently. You can see the question in his eyes, the question that he's hesitant to ask but you cheerfully brush it off, forcing yourself to sound happier as you continue, "But hey, I’m in Paris right now and I’m wearing clothes that I created and so is that man over there.”

Baekhyun doesn’t look away from your face even when you point at the gentleman across the street who is sporting a jacket from your last year’s fall collection. You smile slightly, still feeling your heart swell up with pride at the sight despite it being a common occurrence now due to your brand’s popularity and you mumble, “I have a boutique three blocks away from here—in Paris—and I just finished my own runway—again, in Paris—so, I guess it’s not all bad.”

He smiles, his cheeks puffing slightly as he nods in agreement. “Fruits of success. It’s worth it.”

You can feel him hesitate as he starts to ask something but you cut him off again before he can even ask it by questioning, “What about you? Idol life is treating you well, I suppose, since you can branch out and explore designing now?”

His smile turned wry at that, broad shoulders raising slightly in a half-shrug. “I mean, I guess so. I’ve always been interested in fashion so this is a great opportunity. I’m honestly pretty excited for it.”

You grin genuinely at that, unable to stop yourself at how adorable he looked when he said that, his eyes becoming little crescent moons at how he smiles. “I’m excited for you too, Baekhyun.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, looking like he didn’t believe you in the slightest. “Oh really?”

“What’s that tone supposed to mean?” You ask defensively, stopping to look at him. “I am!”

“Even after everything I said?” Baekhyun turns to face you completely, brown eyes focused on yours. As much as you loved the grey lenses from the show earlier, you found that you could breathe easier when these were gazing at you.

“You apologised,” you rolled your eyes. “I've let it go so why haven't you?”

“Cause I feel like you haven't and you're just pretending," he replies wryly. At your incredulous look, he scoffs, “Oh, come on. You and I both know that you’ve been holding what I said against me all this time.”

He pauses before he suddenly smirks, eyes glinting in a way that has you apprehending what he’s going to say next before he even says it. "Well. At least, you were until you were literally up against me—”

“Hey!” You shout, pointing to an area behind Baekhyun where you could see a bright red board. “Does that board read ‘Little Seoul’? Oh my god, THAT’S TTEOKBOKKI!”

You don’t wait for him to turn as you run past him, certain that your entire face was flushed brighter than the board that you were running to. You hurriedly skipped down the few brick steps and approached the small stall with the petite brunette who smiled welcomingly at you.

“Hello,” you greeted politely, smiling at her and trying to calm your pounding heart. The woman’s gaze riveted behind you and you stilled slightly, quickly pointing to the tteokbokki.

“Do you want one?” You asked Baekhyun without looking at him, feeling his arm brush against yours as he stood beside you.

“Sure,” he chuckled softly, his tone filled with amusement. You peer at the menu board on the side of the truck with faked interest in an attempt to avoid talking to him and even without glancing at him, you knew he was gazing at you with that teasing lilt to his lips that had taken an almost permanent place on his face when around you.

You take the two small plates that she hands to you, the bottom warm and comforting against your cool palm as you give one to Baekhyun.

“God, it’s been so long since I’ve had this,” you mutter as you bite into the saucy rice cake. You make a sound of happiness at that back of your throat as the spiciness hits your tongue, bursting with flavour. He hasn’t bitten into his yet, your words causing him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion as he asks, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been craving tteokbokki for almost a month now,” you explain, licking the sauce off your lips as you chew it happily, loving the fat spongy texture and swallowing before continuing, “Either I never have time to go out to have it myself or when I do, it’s late and the Korean restaurants are closed.”

Like now.

You frown in realisation and glance up at the smiling woman as you switch to French and ask, “How long are you open?”

She pauses for a moment, as if not expecting you to speak French and quickly replies, making your eyes widen as you glanced down at the street.

“She said that there was a Korean food fest going on over here,” you translate, looking around and seeing a few food trucks at the farthest end of the street although they were closed. “Apparently today was the last day and this is open only for a couple more hours. I guess that makes us pretty lucky, huh?”

You turn to him and notice him staring at you. “What?” You ask.

“You know French?” Baekhyun asks, his tteokbokki untouched.

“Oh. I mean,” you shrugged nonchalantly. “Kind of, I guess? I’ve been here for a while so I know the basics. Enough to get by but not fluent, though.”

“Something is better than nothing,” he mutters, grabbing the chopsticks and finally digging into the food.

You stare at him, confused about his tone and just start to ask him about it when he raises his head and looks at you. "So? What's the deal? Missing Korean food?”

You nod, swallowing what’s in your mouth to answer him. “It’s been a while since I've been back in Korea so yeah, I haven’t eaten it for a long time. You know what I miss most? This. Street food open at 3AM. Drinking soju in public without being fined for it."

"Wi-Fi,” Baekhyun interjects drily and you groan in agreement, nodding profusely.

“Why don’t you come back then?” He asks curiously, biting into the rice cake. “A vacation couldn’t hurt, right?”

You don’t respond, taking time to slowly eat the tteokbokki as you stall answering his question but he doesn’t catch on as he prods further, “Wait, Korea wasn’t mentioned in your website. Do you have an outlet there?”

You shake your head, still chewing and he continues, “You should! It’s a shame that you don’t have it there yet.”

You stay silent as you figure out what to reply, wondering what to filter out and Baekhyun catches the shift in the atmosphere as he lowers the plate, turning to face you more fully, waiting silently for you to answer.

Hesitating, you finally say lowly, “I have a lot of bad memories in Korea. Whether it was home or school or just… my parents.”

You trail off quietly towards the end, swallowing the words that were threatening to leave your mouth: ‘Korea suffocates me. I can never stay too long there without being reminded of my bedroom where I was locked for days, forced to look at anatomical charts and medical textbooks. How my only happiness when growing up was looking up at the sky and imagining skyscrapers and the Eiffel tower—how that helped me breathe better but then I’d blink and see cherry blossoms and I’d feel suffocated again.’

You don’t realise you were spaced out and just staring down at your plate until you felt sauce smear on your lips. You raised your head to see Baekhyun holding out a tteokbokki slice on his chopstick in front of your mouth, nodding at you to eat it. You blink, shaking yourself out of your slight trance and wrap your lips around the bit that he fed you, chewing it with a small smile.

“You know,” he says, pulling his chopstick back to his own plate as he thinks. “That’s more of a reason to start one. You should flaunt your success. Prove that it wasn’t such a bad decision to follow your own dreams, after all.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you mutter softly, thinking about what he said. The atmosphere is slightly terse with the shift in conversation and you want to kick yourself in the face for bringing up your shitty past and ruining the mood when Baekhyun suddenly starts talking about how the tteokbokki tastes surprisingly better than the ones he had in Korea. He then tells you how he usually refrains from eating so late into the night—or technically, morning—since it makes his face bloat and he even puffs his cheeks to demonstrate to you exactly how bad it can get but you’re giggling at how round and mochi his face is, teasing him about how it isn’t that bad of a look and that he looks almost like a chipmunk stuffing his cheeks for the winter.

Even though you would never openly admit it, after that breakfast buffet at the hotel, you’d went back to your room and searched up a lot on Byun Baekhyun. Unsurprisingly, everything that the internet gave you was information on EXO’s Baekhyun and even though you forcefully suppressed smiling and laughing at his silly antics and contagious smile in almost every interview—he wasn’t called the crackhead clown of the group for nothing—you had wondered whether it was just an image created by the agency, or just a persona he maintained in front of the cameras.

Strolling with Baekhyun on this chilly night in the streets of Paris, however, had quickly opened your eyes to how wrong your assumption was. He was the easiest person to hold a conversation with, someone who surprised you with how hard he got you laughing and who never gave your thoughts a chance to be led astray. The whole time that you’d spent dressing at the hotel, you were worried about how the night would go—whether it’d be awkward, whether you two would just end up arguing again, whether you would regret agreeing to go out with him, whether Seoyeon’s warning would end up scaring you into overthinking and chickening out before you could wander very far.

But you’d been pleasantly surprised by how the night was going.

In fact, you lost track of time.

And despite living a hectic life where that was a common occurrence, never had time been lost while strolling leisurely across the streets of your most favourite city in the entire world.

Perhaps one of the most magical things about Paris was the way the city seemed to change at night, an almost magical mist entering the air as the lights began to sparkle brighter—making you feel similar to the way that you did when you drank too much French wine, almost deliriously gleeful. Your heart raced every time you looked up, never tiring of seeing the beautiful skyline as you breathed in the cool air. Paris always made you feel the same way you did when you’d first seen it, immortal in its immaculate beauty, in the way that it made you feel like no time had passed since that first breath you took of the city. Even the most cynical person would begin to hope here, would feel the tug in their heartstrings.

It was the city of love and even if one didn’t find someone under these skies, they would leave while unknowingly carrying a piece of Paris in their heart.

You lead Baekhyun to the Eiffel tower, watched his eyes sparkle with the reflection of the lights shining brightly in the night as the two of you stood at a distance with a perfect view—one that wasn’t too crowded by tourists. He didn’t stop talking then either, exclaiming, “Wah, it’s really so pretty,” over and over again until you were rolling your eyes, grabbing him by his sleeve as you tugged him down 31st Avenue, along the alleys that the other tourist guides wouldn’t ever care to show but were your personal favourites—you excitedly babbled about the history and architecture of the pretty bricked-road streets, talking about how you’d wandered aimlessly for months as an apprentice when you first came to Paris with hardly any money and just a head full of dreams.

Baekhyun is keenly paying attention, his dark eyes always on you and a little smile on his face as he watches you almost stumble over your words in your rush to tell him everything about the quirky vintage stores that had the cutest tees, recommending him to visit it during the day when it’s open and that he could use it as inspiration. He’s quick to grab your waist and pull you aside when someone speeds past you on their cycle in that narrow alley, his hand lingering a little longer than necessary as he gazes down at you before letting go.

Now you’re sitting on the roof of a building that faced the Seine, both your legs hanging off the edge and you’d expected Baekhyun to be more concerned about the fact that you’d taken him to a restricted area that definitely wasn’t for loitering around and could definitely get the two of you in trouble if the security caught you but he’s only too content to follow your lead and sit beside you to listen as you pointed out your favourite fancy restaurant, your favourite café, the corner where your favourite street performers—Lucetta, who played the guitar and her brother Noah who sang along with it every Saturday and Sunday night.

You learn things about him that you didn’t read off the internet: Baekhyun tells you how he misses his members whenever he’s out doing a solo project or promotion, how passionate he’s been about singing from when he was a child, how much he loves and misses his mom who still babies him especially since they don’t meet as frequently as they’d like to, how Europe always makes his heart ache because of all the people walking their dogs which reminds him of Mongryong, how he hates it when anyone feels left out and how he gets easily concerned over people.

“Like you, tonight,” Baekhyun cites as an example. “I’m actually surprised you’re still… upright. Especially when all you’ve had tonight is, what, coffee from the morning and that tteokbokki?”

You nod sheepishly and he shakes his head at you. “You really shouldn’t do something like that. It’s really bad for your health. You work with models every day, shouldn’t you be setting better examples?”

“I know, I know,” you respond weakly, sighing as you pick at the hem of your shirt. “I’ll… eat better.”

“And I should believe you, why?” His tone is slightly mocking and you can’t help yourself as you turn to him a small grin of your own, muttering, “Well, because of the two of us, I’m the one who doesn’t lie to people’s faces.”

Baekhyun groaned loudly, smacking his palm tiredly over his face as he says, “I’m going to jump, I swear I am—or I should just push you off.”

You’re laughing at his tone as his hand comes to your arm playfully, threatening to push you off and you place your hand over his to shove him off instead but his hand loosens around your arm, fingers splaying beneath your own. Your eyes are immediately on your hand hovering over his, reminding you of the power room with the switches.

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks with the sudden thought and your body stills in a way that you’re certain he noticed. You’re not even sure if you’re breathing as you feel his slender fingers on your arm, his touch searing into your skin even through the thick fabric of your jacket.

You slowly lift your eyes from his hand to his face only to realise that he’s already gazing at you.

It’s the same gaze. The one from the power room, the one from the hallway at the hotel, the one he gave you in your room, the one he gave you as you bought tteokbokki.

You can’t believe you were such a fool to think his natural chocolate eyes were less lethal than the grey lenses from the fashion show—not with this gaze.

And you were willing to bet that his eyes could be any colour under the damn sun but that gaze would still get you in trouble, regardless.

You can feel his warm breath hit your mouth, his pouty lips parted in a way that made it quite difficult to look away from them. The warmth and the electricity in the air crackling around you was such a contrast to the chilly breeze and you didn’t realise that the both of you had been leaning in until the tip of his nose met yours halfway.

A loud horn blares through the air suddenly, startling both of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your heart in your throat as you whip your head around to see a familiar boat on the Seine approaching the shore. You can faintly feel his lips on your cheek, having met with it by your sudden movement. It’s the softest, gentlest butterfly touch and you’re not even sure if you only imagined it. You definitely feel Baekhyun’s sigh against your face as he turns to follow your gaze but your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare at the familiar boat.

“Wait, is that…,” You trail off as you try to read the name but you already know that it’s Gemini from the red and blue colours.

And Gemini reaches shore at…

You hurriedly pull your phone out from your jacket and your eyes widen as you loudly exclaim, “Oh my God, its 4AM!”

Baekhyun doesn’t seem too bothered, staring at the approaching boat with a distant look in his eyes, lost in thought. You stand up and tug his shoulder to pull him up, Baekhyun slowly following your lead with a sigh.

“You have a schedule, you know,” you remind him as you quietly climb over the chain barriers that signalled the rooftop as a restricted area.

“Yeah, so do you,” Baekhyun retorted childishly, making you roll your eyes with a smile at his tone as the two of you hurriedly walk out of the building and sneakily stride past the sleeping security.

You both stand on the pavement, facing the main road as you pat your coat down for your wallet. With a growing trepidation, you glance over at Baekhyun and give him a nervous smile. He raises an eyebrow in question and you ask, “You don’t happen to have any money on you, do you?”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he searches his own pockets, muttering curses when he came up empty.

“I thought you could afford meals for both of us,” you said wryly and his eyes widened as he held his hands out.

“I can!” He exclaimed. “I left my wallet back at the hotel. Shit. Wait. Who paid for the tteokbokki?”

“Me,” you replied, checking your phone. “I just had a few euros in my pocket, I forgot to take my wallet too.”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll pay you back at—”

“Don’t be stupid, you’ll do no such thing—wait,” you muttered as you scrolled through your contacts. “I guess we were both so excited that we just forgot to take money for dinner or even have the dinner.”

“Oh. You’re right. Do you want to have dinner?”

“What? No. Its 4AM, you have a schedule, are you not listening to me? Also, we have no money.”

Baekhyun blinks, glancing around. “How far are we from the hotel?”

“About two hours away, walking distance,” you say, giving him a guilty smile when his wide eyes turn to you. You raise your phone at him, trying to reassure him as you exclaim, “Its fine! Don’t worry, I’ll just call Seoyeon and ask her to pick us up.”

Baekhyun’s shoulders tense at that. You’re checking your phone as he repeats, “Seoyeon? Your assistant?”

“The short green-haired girl who is always with me,” you nod, giving him a small smile. “She’s more than an assistant, actually—she’s more like family. We met when I came here as an apprentice and she was studying at a business school. We became really close and she just decided that she wanted to help create my empire alongside me. She’s seen me at my worst and helped me reach my best so yeah, definitely more than just an assistant.”

Baekhyun stayed silent as you sent her texts asking if she was asleep before finally asking, “Wouldn’t she be mad if you called her so late?”

“Not really, its fine, we just planned to get brunch tomorrow so maybe we could postpone it and—”

“Not that,” Baekhyun interrupts. “Wouldn’t she be mad that you didn’t listen to her?”

You stop, your finger freezing over the call icon on her contact. You raised your head, staring at him in confusion.

He couldn't possibly...

“I kind of overheard your conversation in your dressing room,” Baekhyun confesses softly, eyes carefully watching your reaction.

Oh god, he did he did he did.

Your eyes are wide with the growing panic and Baekhyun immediately raises his hands in an effort to either reassure you or defend himself, you weren’t sure. “I didn’t mean to, I swear, I wasn't eavesdropping. I came by to talk to you and then I heard her say my name and I just... happened to hear. Yeah.”

You’re quiet, scrambling for a response, wondering how much he heard as he says, “She’s not wrong, you know?”

You raise your eyebrow at his words, pausing before you ask, “What do you mean?”

“Everything she said. You getting hurt. The risks and all of it.” He hesitated before continuing, “After the power room, I was going to apologise and ask you out to dinner anyway. Then, I heard this conversation and I thought against it. I thought it was best to leave. But… but something wouldn’t let me. I wanted to ask you. And I decided that if you refused or came up with a stupid excuse or even just bluntly denied, I would stop. I wouldn’t approach you at all after that, I’d tell Hyungnim I got your help and return to Korea tomorrow on the first flight back without ever crossing paths again. But then at the hotel, you... you hesitated too. You wanted to refuse me, I could see it in your eyes but something stopped you too. So here we are.”

You’re at a loss for words as you stare at him, taken aback what he just said. You don’t know what to make of what he had just revealed but all you can focus on is the incredible sense of relief rushing through you at the realisation that it wasn’t just you who felt this way—the uncertainty, the fear of regretting this, the fear of making a mistake.

The two of you are silent as you stare at each other, the cold Parisian wind blowing hard around you and filling the silence between you.

Your voice is husky as you ask, “What does this mean then? This. Us.”

“I think I just wanted to see where the night would go.”

“So did I.” You hesitate. “What do you think?”

“I think... I think that I want more nights like these. Or mornings. See where those go too. I don't want to go back.” Baekhyun pauses before he smiles. “Also I kind of really do need your help with Privé, I don’t know what I'm doing anymore and Hyungnim said I can't release something completely monochrome.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you press ‘call’ and hold the phone up to your ear, saying, “Screw Hyungnim, if you want monochrome, we’ll do monochrome.”

#bbh-net #exosnet #exo fic #mshm baekfic #baekhyun fanfic #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #fluff #romance #smut #angst #idol!au #chapter 4 #mshm 4 #paris #that's it for today #will update masterlist in a bit

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tonyspepper · 5 years ago

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Pepperony Week 2019: ↳ day 7: au · pepper potts is assigned to protect tony collins, howard stark's illegitimate son. tony has become the target of amon stark, his older half brother, who allegedly murdered his father to get millions in inheritance. [based on this post]

Read on AO3

As I started writing this, I got more and more ideas for a multi-chap story so I decided to take 4 different points in time in hopes of maybe sparking your interest :x

“Here’s your new assignment. Take a few minutes to read over everything and tell me if you’re up for it.”

Fury handed her a folder with all the information she needed. Virginia opened the file, and saw the picture of a man. She knew that face. She had seen it on newspapers, magazines, and all over the internet—Howard Stark was everywhere. Reading through the first page of the dossier, her eyes widened. She stared at the text, waiting for her mind to wrap itself around the news it bore, then she looked at Fury.

“Howard’s death was no... It was no accident?” she asked, flipping the page to continue reading.

“We’re not sure, but it looks like his son had something to do with it. You know, it’s easy to get rich quick if your father’s pockets are full of money.” He paused. “Unless Daddy doesn’t like sharing.”

“So you think that boy killed his father to get his inheritance?”

On the second page of the report, there was another picture. This time, it was of a young man in his thirties. He was lean but muscular. His face was strong but handsome and distinctive-looking. Virginia had never seen that guy before but was immediately smitten by his looks.

“There was a catch,” Fury said, tapping his finger on the folder, and the photo she was looking at.

“Which is where this guy comes in?”

“Anthony Collins, Howard Stark’s illegitimate son. Stark didn’t want anything to do with him, but he did pay child support to the mother, Maria. Managed to keep it a secret. Now that he’s dead—“

“His son found out the money isn’t all his,” she connected the dots. “And now you want me to protect that Collins guy until Stark junior is convicted of murder?”

He nodded. “We don’t have enough evidence yet. We need time. Amon Stark’s going to make a mistake at some point, and when he does, we will be there to put him behind bars. Until then, I need you to protect Collins.”

“Why me?”

“Because, believe it or not, you’re the best one I have for this job.”

Fury looked at her with unconcealed pride. Virginia Potts may still be young compared to her colleagues, who were all in their late forties and early fifties, and she may appear meek and mild on the outside, but she was fierce and brave inside, and her mind was so sharp she could slay vampires with it—well, that was if they actually existed. She knew how to function under pressure better than anyone else, and Fury trusted her with not just anyone’s life but even his own.

They spent over an hour discussing the details. Fury told her that Tony’s aunt Peggy Carter had asked for a bodyguard to protect her nephew so that Virginia knew why her client could be a bit hesitant to follow orders, as he thought he didn’t need a bodyguard. Tony Collins was a tech genius whose start-up company was on the rise, generating him a great deal of buzz that meant attending public events, and therefore put him at an even greater risk of becoming the victim of an attempted murder. By the end of the meeting, Virginia had a feeling that her next assignment would be a lot of work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”I don’t need to dance with you, Mr. Collins, I’m your bodyguard,” she said, looking up at him as he held his hand out to her, waiting for her to take it.

“And I expect you to guard me at all times, even on the dance floor, Ms. Potts,” he replied, grinning at her.

“If this is just an excuse to get close to me, I quit.”

“No excuse. If I wanna get close to you, I go somewhere my brother’s snipers will have a clear field of fire and wait for you to yell at me.”

Tony knew she was pretending to be that whole suave, emotionless deadpan of a guard—she had been trying to play that role all night—but he had also seen her trying not to smile at his gold-worthy jokes.

Virginia took her job very seriously. He saw her posted outside the door or behind him during long, boring board meetings, and she kept her stance and form perfectly straight the entire time. He wondered if she ever had a good night’s sleep, because if he had to guess, he’d say she never really closed her eyes for more than an hour. Sometimes he wished he had better luck in taking her mind off the job so that she could relax for just one moment. She deserved as much for being willing to give her life to protect him.

“C’mon, please,” Tony tried to get her out of her shell, his look sincere, and his eyes pleading. “Just one dance, and then you can go back to, um... doing your thing.”

Sighing, Virginia got up from the chair and adjusted her dress with the same composure that she had all along maintained. She usually wore her gun in a holster at her side, but right now, she kept it hidden underneath her clothes. She was armed with a knife, too. He had seen her buckling an extra belt under her dress to hold it. Virginia’s legs—those impossibly long, shapely legs—carried two weapons solely for his protection, and that was by far the sexiest thing he had ever known. When she took his hand, he couldn’t help but smile.

They danced, swaying to the music, entangled in a soft embrace, their bodies finding a way to communicate with each other on the dance floor. It worked beautifully. But she was constantly looking away, eyeing their surroundings, and it bothered him. That was just not how he imagined dancing with a beautiful woman.

“Can you look at me for a moment and not stare at other people?” he asked, chuckling.

She gave him a lopsided smile and an exasperated, “You’re interfering with my work.”

He smirked, telling her, “As long as I’m with you, I feel like the safest person in the world, knowing you would take a bullet for me.”

“I’d take a bullet for any of my clients, don’t read into it too much,” she countered, rolling her eyes.

“Aw, you’d really take a bullet for me!”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he quipped.

“You seem to be under the false impression that I will never get annoyed with you because you’re my boss, but I’m actually this close to killing you myself.”

His lips topped up in a teasing grin and his dimple popped out. “How would you do it? Would you strangle me with those gorgeous, long legs?”

Virginia felt her jaw drop. Of course she had noticed him checking her out once, but this was the first time Tony made a comment like that, and it took her completely off guard.

“You know, I always wondered... why you.”

“Why me what?” she growled.

“Why are you my bodyguard? How can you be? I mean you’re smart, and you know how to handle a weapon... I think...” Not that she ever had to use one—yet. “But if I’d be attacked, like, really needed to be protected, could you even tackle me?”

“I can tackle your scrawny ass right now and then chain you to that wall over there, if you want me to prove a point,” she said, callously.

Laughing out loud, he teased, ”I’d like to see you try.”

Tony slipped his fingers slowly down her back, just inside the edge of material of her blue backless dress, until he reached the base of her spine.

“That’s too low.” She glared at him, snarling quietly.

“I’m not even touching your as—Ouch! Fine... okay,” he groaned, as his face contorted with the pain of his finger being bent back until it almost cracked with a sound. “You’re supposed to protect me, not hurt me.”

“I knew this was a mistake,” she said with a sigh.

“Taking this job?”

“Dancing with you.”

”Hey, I think we’re doing pretty great considering everyone is watching us.”

“W–What?”

“Or maybe they’re watching us because we’re so good at this.”

Turning her face away from him, Virginia noticed that almost everyone in the room was staring at them while they danced. There were even a few reporters taking pictures. She felt her cheeks flush and glanced at Tony. He was smiling at her as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. But it was. It was to her. She was supposed to keep this relationship strictly professional, but there she was, so close to him that she could feel his breath on her skin. And she let him distract her from paying attention to the scene and doing her job.

“We can’t do this... I can’t do this,” she said, pulling away, but Tony held her captive in his arms.

“If you leave me standing on the dance floor, you’re making me look bad.”

“My only concern is your safety, Mr. Collins.”

He grinned. “Well, if that‘s so, then let me tell you, Ms. Potts, I feel very safe right now... Here, in your arms.”

Virginia rolled her eyes, hissing out a breath. “Is everything a game to you?”

“Pretty much,” he answered, amused. “Life’s more fun that way.”

“Yeah, you know what isn’t fun?” She looked him right in the eyes. “Losing a client because you’ve been careless for just one second.”

Tony studied her for a minute, his grin fading slowly, and then his sloshed brain realized that something was seriously wrong with her. He had hit a raw nerve. It was almost like her controlled facade was finally beginning to crumble, and he could see the soft, vulnerable woman beneath.

“Have you...” Tony gulped down the fear that her answer would make him become emotional and cause his own facade to crack—he really wasn’t the rude bastard Virginia made him out to be. Then he tried again, “You lost someone, didn’t you?”

She swallowed hard, averting her eyes, as his question awoke bitter memories. It was a question that proved he already knew the answer since it was phrased in a way that would require her to lie if she were to deny it. But she wasn’t ready to talk about it. And they weren’t friends or anything, so she didn’t even have to talk to him about it. It was none of his business.

Virginia cleared her throat, forcing the lump to go down deep inside of her, and simply stated, “I need a drink.”

He frowned. Okay, message received. She didn't want to talk about it. That didn't mean he was going to let it rest, though. He was intrigued now, wanting to know more about her, her life. Because if he had to guess, he would say she had quite a story to tell. There was so much more to her than she let on, and he was eager to get to know her better.

“Are you even allowed to drink on the job,” he asked, and she shook her head.

“But I need a goddamn martini,” Virginia mumbled, “Very dry, with olives, a lot of olives. Like, at least three olives.” Seeing the amused look on his face, she huffed a breath through her nose. “Why am I even telling you this? My job is to protect you, not talk to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you okay?”

He turned to her and looked at her in shock, stammering the words out, “Y–Yeah, I–I think so… Yes.”

“We gotta get outta here,” she said, her voice soothing as warm chocolate.

Tony was amazed at her hardiness, simply amazed. He had never encountered a woman armored at every point like a tank on a battlefield. She was that tank. Even after a bomb had gone off, blowing up his car and killing his driver—it had almost killed him, too—Virginia stayed completely calm. People were shrieking, panicking, falling over themselves in an effort to get away, while she was simply standing there, holding him by the arm, as she tried to figure out their next move.

She was sharp as a tack and just as prickly, the smartest woman he had ever met. He knew she had multiple plans and backup plans in case anything went wrong, but he was still amazed at how she could be so unfazed by what had happened when his whole body was literally shaking. He still made a conscious effort to steady his breathing, and before he could even see it coming, she tackled him down for protection. He grunted, realizing he had definitely underestimated her physically as a bodyguard. With her strength and agility, she could probably take down three men twice her size before they could even blink.

They were on the ground. The chaos as a result of the attack was a melee of noise around them. He was shielded right under the unshakable hold of Virginia’s arms. She wasn’t looking at him, she was watching for the threat. Tony didn’t know what she had seen or heard, but he could see it written all over her face—real fear, an actual fear that he was going to get hurt. And yet the fear didn’t seem to stop her. There was determination in Virginia’s eyes, too. She was determined to quell the fear by eliminating the threat with everything she had. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to him, and even though Tony knew that it was her job to protect him, the realization hit him like a stone anvil.

Virginia Potts would give his life for him. She would let herself be shot, blown up, or stabbed just so he could live. What had he ever done to deserve that?

“What is it?” he asked, “What do you see?”

“Stay down,” she commanded him. “There are too many people out here, and then there’s the smoke… I don’t have a clear view of the street. I don’t know if… We need to wait.”

Tony swallowed. For the first time since he met her, she was actually making the impression as if she were worried, as if she didn’t know what to do, and that definitely wasn’t a good sign. His hands began to shake uncontrollably. He tried to hide it from her, but the look in her eyes, as she cast him a glance, made it obvious she had already become aware of it.

“You’ll be okay,” she reassured him, even flashing him a smile. “But we’re gonna stay at my place tonight. I’m not taking any chances.”

“Y–Your… place?”

Little frown lines ceased Tony’s forehead. He didn’t even know she had a place. Well, of course, he did, but since Virginia was a bodyguard, he just figured she might be sleeping in hotel rooms all the time to save money on rent. She had told him once that she hadn’t really had a day off in years, so he was surprised to hear she actually had a place where she lived, a place she called home. It made him wonder what her apartment would tell him about her life, her character, and what kind of a person she was outside the job.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time Virginia Potts met Anthony Collins, she had thought of him as an obnoxious, arrogant little fancy brat who couldn’t stop running his mouth. He was dramatic, cocky and rude, and she had been done with him not only a month after she had taken on the assignment. She remembered the day when Tony had kept pushing her buttons until she snapped and pushed him against the wall, telling him not to mess with her. He had been visibly intimidated by her strength, even more than the moment she’d first tackled him. And after that, something had changed.

Virginia had decided to dug deeper, had gotten to know him better, and the more she did, the more she realized that the loud and obnoxious man, who was acting like a child most of the time, was just a sad boy, hiding behind all this arrogance and an inflated ego. When she looked at him now, she saw a completely different man. Tony Collins was nothing like she thought he was. His pretentious persona was meticulously constructed and engineered. He embodied it and made it a reality, and he wore it like a suit of armor around him, protecting the man who was inside, the man that had a heart. It amazed her how easy he made it look, carrying that fake skin like he owned it, but even more than that, it saddened her that Tony even felt like he had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

“It’s so great to see you, Pep.” He gave her a smile, as she came into the room, and she was struck by how it lit up his eyes. “I was just thinking about you.”

He was lying on the couch in front of the fireplace, one hand behind his head and the other holding a book. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him read something that wasn’t tech-related. Who would have thought that even after all this time he still managed to surprise her?

“Hey, Tony…” She watched him as he dropped his book and sat up, that smile never leaving his face. “Can we talk?”

“How about we talk over dinner? I can make us something to eat. And by that, I mean I will try not to blow up the kitchen,” he said with a chuckle.

“This really can’t wait, Mr. Collins.”

Tony’s expression turned bleak when she reverted to being formal. She couldn’t help herself. Addressing him by his last name was the only way she could keep her emotional distance, something she hadn’t done for far too long. She knew he must have a thousand thoughts going through his mind right now. She knew he knew something serious was going on from the way he was looking at her.

The expression on his face damn near broke her heart, and it was going to go a lot worse when he heard her next move, but she‘d made up her mind. She didn’t want to do this, but she had to. It was better that way—for both their sakes. It was more for his good than hers, she told herself. He was entitled to someone’s undivided impersonal attention, not a woman who was fast becoming interested in her client in all the ways a woman was drawn to a desirable man.

”I need you to release me from your service,” she cut right to the chase, her voice slightly unsteady.

Tony’s face took on an expression of deep confusion and he cleared his throat. “I don’t think I’m following you here…”

“Fury will find someone else to protect you. I just need you to tell him—“

“But why would you wish to leave?”

He raised his voice at the end of the sentence, as if he was angry with her for making that decision without consulting him first. Then he stood up and walked over to her, and she took a step back so that he couldn’t touch her.

“Why do you want to leave?” he repeated the question, his voice soft and calm now, almost a whisper.

“Because I love you,” she said, and even as Virginia steeled herself to say goodbye, the look that passed over his eyes touched a place in her heart she hadn’t known was there. Falling in love with him had changed everything.

#pepperonyweek19 #pepperony #pepper potts #tony stark #charlie writes #this is a mess of a fic lmao #but i loved writing it #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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toutallyahoe · 6 years ago

Text

Simon Says

ＲＥＱＵＥＳＴＥＤＢＹ:

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ/Ｓ:

Simon x [Name]

Ａ/Ｎ:

Had this draft since September 2018 because I was a procrastinating fuck and Im so done right now asdfghjkl

═══════════════════════

Simon

"Hm?" The pen on his hand stopped tapping on the table's surface as his gaze turned to the blond haired deviant inside his office. [Eye color] eyes looked at the PL600 model questioningly as he saw the android fidget a bit on its spot.

"Do you need something Simon?" [Name] said as he put his pen on the table's surface, keeping mind that he will finish his report later as he was curious on why the deviant android was there. The PL600 deviant or "Simon" looked at anything beside the male sitting behind his own table as his right hand rosed up on the back of his neck and rubbed the artificial skin.

"Um... Y-you see... It's-- uhhh--" [Name] let out an amused laugh as he heard the blond android trying to explain why he was there at his office, just standing awkwardly might he add as his LED on the upper right side of his face, turning blue to yellow, giving away what he felt and indicating he was in either confusion or embarrassment. The human concluded maybe it was both. It was amusing to see and know that those androids he always saw in society can be more human like than just appearance.

"Hey, calm down, Si. You know I'm not going to bite you." [Name] reassured as he gave the anxious android a warm smile as he stood up from his chair and walked towards the troubled android.

"So, where do I owe the pleasure of seeing a deviant like you inside my office when the DPD is trying to tracking you guys down?" [Name] jockingly said as he patted the blond deviant's back to try and ease up and help what's going inside the android's mind. Simon seemed to eased up a bit as he let out a small laugh at what the [Hair color] haired man had said. A small smile formed on his lips as he looked at the male beside him.

"So how's Jericho? Any new news for you to tell? Assuming you're here to tell me something new and all." The [Hair color] haired male started as he urge the android to follow him out of the messy office to his living room to converse better. "Well, we have a new android joined us days ago." The blond android said as he followed behind the male. A hum left [Name]'s lips as he listened to his companion's next sentence.

"His name is Markus and to say the least, he is quite... Interesting." [Name] rose a brow at Simon's sentence as they finally reached the living room. Taking a seat on one of his couch, the android took the same, taking a seat in front of the couch where the male was. "Interesting you say, Si?" The [Hair color] haired asked as the android nodded.

"Yes, he seemed to be adamant on changing our way of freedom in Jericho. Wanting all of us to be free but not just hiding away from everyone." Simon said as a small frown on his lips. This caused the [Hair color] male to be curious on why the android's expression look a bit displeased and worried. "And what does that make you feel, Si?" The [Hair color] haired male asked as he stared at the android across him. A noticeable frown on his lips as he stared at the blond deviant.

Simon seemed to be thinking as his LED was blinking yellow for awhile until he looked at the male across him. Worried blue eyes stared at [Eye color] ones as he looked distressed and anxious. "To be honest..." Simon quietly said as he looked away and instead gazed at his hands that were on his lap, intertwined as he continued on his sentence. "I'm relieved... And... And happy." He stated as he still gazed on his hands.

This made the other frown deepen as he looked at the android in worry. "But?" [Name] urging the other to continue, knowing full well that there was something more on the android's mind than that. It took awhile for Simon to answer as he seemed to be thinking deeply on what he feels. Having confusion on emotions when he became a deviant is still hard, even months of getting out of his program.

"But I... But I'm worried and... And I'm scared..." Simon said as he closed his eyes. Thinking of possible casualties on what will happen in the future. His LED blinking from blue to yellow then red, indicating he was rather stressed, worried and confused.

His eye brows furrowed as his face held a scrunched up look. His posture tense as his mind thought off what will happen next. To Jericho, to the other deviants, to him, and to the human right in front of him that helped them find a safer place when they became deviants.

"Hey," Simon seemed to snapped out of his thoughts and saw that the [Hair color] haired human was now sitting beside him. A warm smile on [Name]'s lips as he grasped one of his hands and looked at his blue eyes. "Simon says smile." The [Hair color] haired said softly as he rub his thumb circles on Simon's hand.

Simon's LED slowly whirled from red to yellow as he looked confused on what the [Hair color] haired human had said to him. He never said anything about smiling so why did [Name] said he told himself to smile?

Simon looked directly at the [Hair color] haired male's [Eye color] eyes and asked, rather confused. The other seemed to just smile at him. Finding the confused look adorable on the android's face. The two stayed silent for awhile until the deviant broke it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, [Name]." The blond deviant stated as he saw the [Hair color] haired male seemed to choke on his own spit as he look rather incredibled on the other had said.

"What?" [Name] asked as he pulled his hand away from Simon's. The android seemed to be saddened from the action but shoved those thoughts aside and said his sentence much more clearly on what he was implying.

"You said, "Simon says smile", but I do not recall saying such thing." The android said as the [Hair color] haired male looked at him, a bit blankly might he add. Simon's LED whirled yellow as he process something. "Unless you knew another named Simon that has said that and to--" Simon was abruptly cut off with laughs that came from the [Hair color] haired male beside him.

"O-oh God!" The blond android looked at the laughing male in confusion as he just watch the [Hair color] haired male clutching his stomach as he laughed.

If Simon had to be honest of himself, he found [Name]'s laugh pleasant to hear, especially if he was the one that caused for the other to have such a reaction despite not knowing why or how he does it. He enjoys seeing the [Hair color] haired human happy than his normal tired and stressed posture.

The blond deviant knew fully well that the [Hair color] haired human has been working a lot of work lately, especially him working on the DPD as an investigator. The human had to lay low and be cautious or else someone will know he helps hiding the deviants.

The PL600 android scanned the human while he was working inside his office awhile ago and he knew the human was tired and stressed to the point where his stress levels were elevated much more higher than others. So, seeing the [Hair color] haired male laughing brings satisfaction and warmness inside of him. Although he was still confused why the [Hair color] haired human laughed at him. It took awhile for [Name] to stop laughing his ass off while the blond deviant looked at him with a smile on his lips despite having confusion written on his face on not getting why the male was laughing.

"I guess... This is w-what I get for abruptly telling you that..." [Name] manage to rasped out as he clutched his pained stomach from laughing to hard. A smile on his lips as he look at the smiling and confused android. "Seems like I gotta explain it huh?" The human mused out as he slowly composed himself and chuckle, thinking of a better way and to make both of them easier.

"You know, you could search it up in the internet." [Name] suggested as he slowly stood up. Not noticing Simon's LED flickering blue to yellow. "Hang on, let me get my pho--"

"According to WikiHow, Simon Says is a fun game that helps in exercising listening skills. This game is fairly easy, but it can quickly turn into a challenge, especially if playing in a large group. Although this game goes by many names worldwide, the fun, basic rules tend to remain the same." Simon stated as he look at [Name] dead in the eyes.

His face twisted in slight confusion again as he registered the steps on how the game was played. "It's also stated on one of the steps that playing Simon says needs to have three or more players to function properly." [Name] just looked amused from Simon's research. He honestly sometimes forget that androids can search the web or contact anyone with their LED.

"Well, yeah bu--" "So I don't get it. Why would we be playing Simon says when they are only two of us?" Simon said as he tilted his head a bit on the side. An unusual habit he does whenever he is curious or confused. Simon looked at [Name] for further explanation when the male just ruffled his oddly neat hair. A chuckle left the human's lips as he directed a soft smile towards Simon. The answer of the human made the android's lips twitched a bit until he bashfully smiled aswell.

"I just want to see you smile, Si."

#dbh Simon #dbh simon #d:bh simon #Detroit become human x male reader #detroit become human x male reader #dbh x male reader #dbh simon x male reader #simon x male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #pl600 simon #pl600 x male reader #Detroit become human #Detroit: become human #angst #simon pl600 #pl600

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ladyinsertnamehere · 5 years ago

Text

Fifty-one

Warning: characters curse

“Ah! Here we are!” The Doctor stepped out of the blue box, with Amy and Rory following, “You said you wanted a Vegas vacation! And here we a-“

The Doctor finally looked around to see this was not the big city with flashy lights like he was expecting, but instead, a quiet, humble town. There were tall signs for restaurants, gas stations lining the road, and dusty ground under their feet. “Oh. This is most definitely not Las Vegas,” The Doctor admitted, clearly a bit confused, “That’s odd - where are we?”

“It looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Rory huffed, aggravated.

“No, no, no...” the Doctor explained, not exactly picking up Rory’s sarcasm, “the middle of nowhere wouldn’t have a McDonald’s. Be realistic!”

“McDonald’s?” Amy perked up, “Let’s go there, I’m kinda hungry.”

The Doctor realized that, in fact, he was hungry too. Fair enough, he thought, maybe we can find out where we are.

____________________________________

“Good lord, Doctor, you’re really scarfing those things down.” Amy commented on the way the Doctor seemed to shove the fries into his mouth, with a chicken nugget in the other hand at the ready. “Are you even chewing those things? Can you even breathe?”

“Lay off, Pond. The last time I ate was a couple hundred years ago!” The Doctor laughed at his own joke - he nearly choked, which concerned Amy - the last time he ate was when they watched the construction of the first renaissance building.

He had forgotten to ask the man at the register where and when they were, but decided he’d ask later. He had already gathered from the length of the shadows it was sometime around autumn, and by the taste of the air that it couldn’t have been earlier than 2015. He took a bite of his nugget as Rory put down his ice cream and gripped his temple. Brain freeze. Heaven’s sake, if Amelia was going to tell anyone off for eating too fast, it should’ve been her boyf - no, husband the Doctor corrected himself. Husband now.

A woman had come and sat at the booth behind them with her children, one of them, a baby, crying and pounding on the woman’s back as she held him. His face was red and wet with tears, and both the mother and the other child, a teenager, looked so tired. The Doctor smiled at the boy as he was being strapped into a booster chair, waving at him, trying to calm him down. He spoke in a soft, warm voice, “Hello!”

The boy seemed slightly quieter, focused on the Doctor’s voice and face more than whatever had made him cry. His expression changed nearly as quickly as the Doctor’s did, giggling as the silly man stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes, pulling on his cheeks to make his expression funnier. The mother had noticed this man about the third funny face in, when her son was completely calm. She turned to see the man with the swooshy hair and the bow tie, laughing as hard as her baby. He glanced and waved at her with the same soft “Hello!”

“Thank you so much, sir,” said the woman, “children can be so difficult. What’s your name?”

“The Doctor.”

“That’s not a name.”

“Of course it is. I’ve met loads of people with loads of names - what’s yours?”

“Jessica. I suppose you aren’t from around here?”

“We’re travelers,” he said, confirming her assumption, “we’re around a lot of places a lot, and to be honest, we’re not even sure where ‘around here’ is.”

“Oh, it’s Beatty, Nevada,” she answered. Definitely not Vegas. “A hundred twenty miles away, stupid, stupid, stupid-“ The Doctor hit his head repeatedly with the heel of his hand.

“I’m Amy, and this is my husband, Rory,” she pointed to the other man sitting next to her, who gave a slight smile and wave.

They chatted for about a minute. It turned out that Jessica was a single mother who had to take care of her two children with only a low-paying job. The kids had to spend the day with their grandmother, who lived with them. Jessica tried to make sure every day she did get to spend with her children was worth it, but that was difficult “with one child who was too young to understand and one who was obsessed with Fortnite.”

Fortnite? “Excuse me,” The Doctor interjected, “and stop me if I sound mad, but what year is it?”

Jessica looked understandably confused, and joked, “are you a time traveler or something?”

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s twenty-nineteen, September nineteenth. Why?”

Oh no. Oh, no.

“Come along, Ponds. Lunchtime’s over.” The Doctor physically swiped the McFlurry out of Rory’s hand. “We’re going on a road trip!”

“What now?” Amy asked, exasperated, and Rory chimed in, “We just sat down! Why do we need to leave in such a hurry?”

“‘Cause we’re in the middle of a desert in Nevada,” the Doctor explained in the sort of low voice he used when he had something serious on his mind, “and it’s nearly September twentieth.”

_____________________________________

“So, a bunch of kids on the internet are making jokes about running like an anime character into a heavily-armed military base,” Amy summarized. “No one’s going to actually do it, so what’s the big deal?”

“Have you met millennials and generation z?” The Doctor asked, as if saying such a thing was stupid, “Most of them have a death wish anyway!” He turned away from her to fumble with the TARDIS keys, “The Area 51 massacre was one of the most brutal battles in history. A hundred people died, and several others were wounded.” He unlocked and pulled open the TARDIS door, power-walking ahead to the console. “If we’re lucky, we might be able to stop them. The memes will remain forgotten and left behind, and order will be restored!”

The companions watched as he pulled down on a lever. Clink. Whirr, whirr, whirr. Clank. In two seconds flat, the Doctor grinned and went to open the door. He was nearly immediately met with two armed guards.

“Step out of the box, now!” One of them barked. The Doctor already had his hands up as the barrel of the gun was shoved in his face. Amy stepped hesitantly out of the TARDIS, hands also in the air, and Rory followed suit.

“Doctor, what’s going on?” Amy whispered through gritted teeth.

“You have entered a private military base,” The other guard stated firmly, “You will state your name and reason for being here.”

“Well,” the Doctor explained, with a slight nervous laugh, “I was here to prevent an oncoming disaster regarding a number of people trespassing,” he turned to Amy and whispered back, “but because I didn’t think things through, it seems that we have become the trespassers.”

“You’re not allowed on any military site without explicit permission,” one of the guards explained, which only gave the Doctor an idea:

“Well, if you’ll check my credentials,” he said searching around in his pocket and pulling out his psychic paper, flipping it open with dramatic flair, “you’ll see that I have several military qualifications.”

The men look over the Doctor’s paper, with a look of slight shock. One of them looks up and says to the Doctor, “Very well. It is clear you are of military intelligence. You may pass.”

The Doctor grinned about how well that had worked, and the three of them followed the guards with the guns.

________________________________________

A young-looking military official had taken up the task of explaining the plans described in the internet memes, even demonstrating the “naruto running” technique. It was hard to take him seriously, and even his fellow soldiers had to walk out a few times. But this was no matter to be taken lightly.

Amy kept glancing at the Doctor, who held something in his hand - hands? - it was a small bit of colorful plastic, shaped like a cartoon character. He would click a button, and another colorful piece of plastic would shoot out into his other hand. He’d then put the piece back in and do it again.

“You got a happy meal toy?” Amy whispered angrily to him.

“Do you expect me to get a happy meal,” the Doctor replied, “without getting a toy?”

Amy whisper-growled at him to stop, to put the toy away, and to pay attention. Disappointed, he begrudgingly stuffed the plastic toy into his coat pocket, only to pull out something else. A plastic spinner which he twirled with his hands, making a much quieter “fwsssshhh.”

“So, in case there is an attack planned, we’ll be primed to prevent it. Any questions?” The officer was nearly wrapping up his lecture.

“Actually, sir,” the Doctor said without raising his hand, instead still spinning the spinner, “stopping the attack,” fwssshh, “and preventing an enormous massacre,” fwsssh, “was precisely,” fwsshhh, “why we came here in the first place.”

The young military official looked confused, and Rory responded with, “we have a history of saving the world, it’s kind of our thing.” The military man just nodded, as if he completely understood, which he didn’t, really, but that didn’t matter.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting screech followed by a loud bang that caused the ground to rumble was heard.

“What was that?!” The Doctor yelled, then realized his hands were still over his ears.

“It was most certainly nothing,” a higher-up official than the one giving the lecture said, with a false sense of confidence.

“No, no, no,” the Doctor insisted, “nothing doesn’t make a sound like that.” He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and flicked it open. He scanned the room and followed wherever it whirred most violently. The soldiers were concerned, and the alarms sounded throughout the site. That didn’t bother the Doctor, or perhaps he was so focused he didn’t hear, and he carried on. He followed the signal his sonic was picking up all the way to a heavy secret door. His companions, as well as the young and high ranking soldiers, caught up with him, and Amy asked, “Doctor? What’s going on?”

Clang, another sound beat against the metal door, and the Doctor reset his screwdriver and used it again. As soon as it stopped humming, he turned to the others looking as if he’d seen a ghost. It was clear what he was trying to say, there’s something in there.

“Doctor?” Amy repeated.

“So this was what you were hiding,” The Doctor faced the older, higher-up official with the balding head, “This is why you’re trying to keep people away. And for once,” his eyes held the sorrow and anger of a thousand civilizations, “I completely agree with your decision.”

“What?” The younger soldier butt in.

“For once, and I really hate to say this,” the Doctor said, “the United States military is in the right.”

______________________________________

“There’s something big down there, something that could wipe out all life in the area,” the Doctor explained. He knew that if they let a thousand millennials get to whatever was down there, there’d be hell to pay. He excused himself as he popped back into the TARDIS, searching through several cardboard boxes of gadgets and knick-knacks, and a couple of doohickeys. He finally pulled out a mechanical thing with spinny gear parts and what looked like a magnifying glass on it. He then dug for a couple of crystals - alien batteries, so to speak. He rushed back inside the facility, setting off some alarms before screaming at them, agitated, to “knock it off”.

He set the contraption on a table, placing the two crystals in place, and began violently sonicking it. Rory, of course, questioned what he was doing, as it wasn’t necessarily obvious.

“I’m programming the forcefield to cover the entire area around the facility,” the Doctor answered.

Within moments, there was a gentle flash of green. The force field was in place, stretching several yards from the outside perimeter, coming together in a dome shape.

“Now,” The Doctor started, “no celebrating yet. That’s only one threat neutralized, and not for long.”

“NOT FOR LONG?” Rory asked, or rather, screamed, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, not for long?”

“This thing’s gonna run outta power sometime,” the Doctor remarked, “though still, it holds a charge better than your phone.”

The Doctor didn’t notice Rory’s “done with your shenanigans” look, as he took something from his pocket. He marched to the heavy door and fastened the device onto it, pushing one of its buttons.

The older military official pushed his way towards him, standing over him, getting into his face. “What in the hell are you doing?” he screamed.

“I’m glad you asked,” the Doctor started, gently pushing the man away, “this gadget turns the door into - basically a portal. I’ll be able to get in,” he gestured with his hands to one side, “but whatever’s inside won’t be able to get out,” and he swung his hands to the other side. He then stuck his hand through the door to demonstrate. The metal door rippled away like a pool of water and the Doctor stared at the officer with a big goofy grin. “Neat, huh?”

He then slid through the portal, giving his companions a wave.

_________________________________

On the other side of the door was something more beautifully capable of destruction than he had ever seen. He stood there mouth agape, eyes wide, arms tucked close to his chest, and hands already flapping in excitement. In front of him was a massive room to contain an equally massive beast, with teeth twice as long as the Doctor was tall, and sharp. The teeth of the beast were stuck firmly in a gnarled gum line. Where its eyes should have been were closed over, and all over its face were a billion tiny sensors, somehow unimpeded by the ooze dripping from its skin.

Its body spiraled down, seemingly separated into chunks, with a bunch of little legs dispersed between sections. Though, they didn’t seem to have any purpose, as the creature, despite its weight, floated in the air as if it was water.

“Doctor,” its voice was raspy and rough, “pleasure finally meeting you.”

“How do you know me?” He aimed his screwdriver at the creature.

“We are a conglomeration of all the universe’s sins. Your own comprise a significant number of us.

“We are every bit of evil on earth, and every sinful thought beyond the stars. We are the worst of humanity, a testament to all turpitude.”

“I thought,” the Doctor quipped, “that position was already taken, by an orange man who’s in charge of this country.”

“You’re thinking of our brother,” the monster replied.

The companions on the outside of the door, not trapped with the embodiment of wickedness in the cellar, started to get worried. Especially Amy.

“It’s been an hour, is he okay in there?”

“He’s probably already accidentally killed whatever it is and is grieving over it,” the young military officer complained.

“I say we should just leave ‘em in there,” the high-up official grumbled.

“He’s the Doctor!” Rory tried to reassure them, “He knows what he’s-“ and then he realized, that was probably false.

“The Doctor said whatever’s inside there won’t be able to get out,” Amy pointed out, “Now he’s inside there.”

Part 2

#doctor who fanfic #area 51 #area 51 memes #eleventh doctor #amy pond #rory williams

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mikazukikannagisjourney · 5 years ago

Text

A Deeply Personal Post about Suicide

A very personal and dark post about depression, its relapse, and suicide**

*you have been warned*

**A post with a whole lotta trigger warnings~ STAY AWAY if you can’t, or if you must. Otherwise, thank you for taking your time reading. This is not clickbait, and definitely not for the faint-hearted. You have been warned. Don’t blame me for any negative effects**

Yes, there, I have said it. I always had the urge to write this down but I kept getting depressed over and over and I really can’t write it if I’m still in that dark, constricting place. But I am so far OK so I shall be posting this stuff. If this post prevents at least, or even just one person from taking their own life and gets a new lease in life then my broken and torn heart will have its peace. It’s harder to live and easier to die. But if you’re spiritually awakened, then the commitment to stay alive is even more pressing. I salute you for staying alive. You can do it!

OK, that’s enough cheery stuff for now. Anything beyond this point can turn dark and ugly in a manner of letters so again, if this is a strongly-triggering topic for you, and you can’t face it, that’s ok. Just stay away, till you think you can handle this. Also I wrote this on the morning of August 28, 2019 but I also had to purge the energies on this post so it would be healing more than destructive, so it pops up a day later as a queued post.

Edit: accidentally clicked POST instead. Not that I mind, I was gonna anyway. Divine realm kept nagging me so.. here you go. 😆

I *MAY* HAVE BEEN BATTLING DEPRESSION AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS SINCE I WAS A CHILD

I don’t think I have the need to completely spell out what depression is because again, the internet can do that for you. I will just focus on how it was, and is still manifesting in my life. But how did it materialized in my life then? Well... Mostly I just internalized all of my demons. If I was angry or upset or I feel envy or jealousy, I just sucked it all in. My household growing up was a battlefield of emotional suppression, thus I can’t cry, throw a tantrum, even laugh out loud for being too happy. What’s even more ironic is that I am actually a very emotional person, which made a whole lot of sense once I understood my natal astrological, human design, and gene key charts. So even if my sun was in Gemini and my ascendant in Libra, I pretty much have all the water signs in my chart as well, along with having a strong sacral center that thrives on generating emotionally-charged energy, and that’s where the waterworks come from. Thus the fact that I’m a Gemini cry-baby who gets too-emotional at just about anything makes perfect sense now.

But back to the subject at hand: Emotional Suppression caused my mental instability and depression. Because each time I had to stop expressing what I feel deep inside, I feel like I kept killing a part of me. Each time I kill a part of me, a gaping hole in my heart and soul would grow even larger. Like literally I feel chest pains as a child, which of course don’t show up on laboratory exams and thus I have been deemed healthy, a lot. I already started wanting to kill myself around 7 years of age, because I was forced to grow up quickly so I could take care of my siblings and myself. I really hated myself and the world a lot because I can’t do what I want and I can’t have anything I want, among other things. I mostly play alone, which was fine until the thoughts of wanting to die keep coming up. Maybe for some people these things are nothing, and they’ll start bragging about their own difficulties and that’s OK, I mean, what you feel will always ring true to you, no matter what the world tells you. The brain can lie to you, but your heart and your emotions never will. Feelings and emotions are always true, and what you feel is always valid. If something hurt you or made you happy, it’s because you have those things inside you. If people trigger you deliberately, then that’s on them. If you get triggered by other people, well that’s a whole other matter... BUT, whatever you do when acting under that feeling or emotion is entirely up to you, and you cannot blame other people for making you act in certain ways. Remember, YOU ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE IN YOUR ACTIONS, THUS THE CONSEQUENCES ARE ALSO OF YOUR OWN DOING. The bottomline is: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GLOB DON’T PLAY DOWN WHAT I AM WRITING HERE AND SAY THAT I’M IN THE WRONG. This entire thing is a personal account, and it’s mine. I get to write this thing because the whole thing is based on what I have experienced. *see? I told you I easily get emotional lol*

I got sidetracked, I apologize. OK, now back to regular programming

Anyway, thoughts of killing myself got even more intense, especially with not meeting parental expectations as well as neglect, abandonment, and rejection issues that popped up as time went on. To be honest though, I was, and still am a bit surprised that I haven’t taken my own life then, and up to this point. Either it’s because I am highly-sensitive to pain *my pain threshold is quite low*, or because I am still trying to find ways to kill myself without the hassle or pain. Basically I fear pain more than death. I guess that’s one of my major motivators for not choosing to end it yet. I just hate physical pain in all forms, even more so right now. So even if it kills me inside, I try to live one day at a time. Back then, I had to live because my siblings need me to cook their food, and I had to do my sister’s homework (she has autism spectrum disorder, which my parents just chose to ignore because they have no idea how to interact with special needs).

How is depression connected with suicide? Well, for one thing the hopelessness, helplessness, feeling worthless, or thinking that living is not worth it can just push a person to the edge. I am quite familiar because I have lost a sizeable number of people ranging from relatives to friends, to classmates and even a work trainee from suicide. I haven’t even counted those who died from natural deaths, those who got killed either in combat or by rebels, or through illnesses. The suicide-related ones just affect me so much because I felt survivor’s guilt, because I haven’t ended my life yet and these “seemingly-happy” people did. My stomach got all knotted up right now, just thinking about it. Especially when I recalled the trainee that killed themselves due to depression. I didn’t mentor them personally but I sorta felt that this person had depression and again, I didn’t reach out. Even then when I was already aware of being an empath and all that jazz. I just gave myself a break after sometime because to be honest, I had no idea how to heal others back then. So... Yeah. But still, survivor’s guilt is real.

RELAPSE ISSUES CONCERNING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS (HOW I HAD THEM)

This is the part where I will be explaining based on my own experiences why some people who were openly-depressed that “seemed” to have gotten a lot happier and brighter suddenly end their own lives with no warnings. Not sure about other people’s ideas, living or dead, but for me, it’s all about the relapse.

Depression relapse, that is. You may be much more familiar with alcoholics or drug-addicts who went to rehab, got all better *or so it seems* but then goes to relapse and either ends up getting even more addicted or worse, having an overdose and dying. Well, again, this is based on my own experiences but for me, because I am not on any kind of medication for my chronic depression so naturally, despite all my conscious efforts on fending it off, it comes back, with a vengeance. All the pain that I feel, all the thoughts that consume what small speck of happiness I have left become even stronger than before, and whatever I did to relieve myself of the pain just stop working no matter how many times I do it. Everything just feels sucky and my pains do not get relieved. I just cry and cry and let the wave pass, allowing a bit of relief, but then they just come back in waves of endless and bottomless anger and feelings of doom and gloom. It feels like I’m forever falling into the abyss of nightmares and frankly, the only solution I see clearly at that point is again, killing myself. Again, because I’m scared of pain, I did whatever I can to escape the pain, thus me ending up learning a lot of bankable and unbankable skills that, quite frankly amused some people I meet once the depression has been controlled somewhat and I got to socialize again.

If I survive long enough to at least raise my happiness levels a bit, I can continue to live, even for a day. I just tell myself “Well, I guess I’ll just have to die another day.” For each time that I tried to escape my pain and my urge to kill myself, I find something new to experience, learn, and have fun with. Thus, the skills I have, the dumb experiences I had, the movies and shows I gave so much of my love to, the ties to people I hold dearly, were not only borne out of a small curiosity, but mostly to prevent myself from ending my life right now. I don’t know how people will react to that, but for me, my hobbies, my passions, are not just due to the fact that these things are worthwhile. For me, these are my LIFELINES. If I didn’t have them, I MIGHT HAVE DIED A LONG TIME AGO. These are also the reasons why despite how many people or the public would shame other people for having weird hobbies or passions, I just let them be happy. I like seeing passionate people, because not only do they look so happy and pure, but also because for me, that might also be their lifeline. So that they CAN STAY ALIVE, because LIFE SUDDENLY HAS MEANING. And who am I to tell them what they or what they cannot do? *unless it’s illegal or hurts other people deliberately, or both. I have limits*

And... Unfortunately, for some of the people who took their own life out of their own accord they may not have been fully aware of it, but when they got out of the funk, they might have thought that YES I AM NOW FREE FROM ALL THAT GUNK. I’M GONNA BE HAPPY, I CAN LOOK FORWARD TO THE FUTURE, ETC. ETC. but noooope, depression is pretty clingy. It comes at the most inconvenient time, right about the time when you thought you’re almost at your goal, or at the time when you feel like you’re about to have that breakthrough. Once anybody who has been recovering from depression falls back into it, the urges, the pain, everything just gets even worse. Everything sucks maybe a hundredfold compared to last time, maybe a million times more. Everything just feels so overwhelming, and heavy, and it cuts through your entire being. The way out just got caved in and now there is no way out other than suicide. THAT FEELS AND SEEMS LIKE THE ONLY WAY. And for some of these people who actually take the plunge and succeed, this is the part where their loved ones who were left behind would comment things like “But I thought they were happy.. They were looking forward to the future.. They had so many plans.. They weren’t showing any signs...” etc. etc. Of course they won’t, and they probably had plans. If anything, they probably wanted to get out of the funk for the rest of eternity. BUt DEPRESSION IS ONE CLINGY F****R my friends, seriously. It is. It will slam everything in your face if it isn’t properly handled, either though holistic means or modern medicine methods, it will certainly choke out the light of any person who just do not have the means to fight it, let alone keep it at bay. Especially when it gets pushed aside. A lot. Each time you succeed at pushing it away or dealing with it, if it creeps into your being, even through just a small crack, it comes to you with a force stronger than a wrecking ball. It’s more of an avalanche. And it will bulldoze anything away till the entire path has been completely covered. Still scary as heck. Thus with each round of its return, it gets more and more strong, thus the need for better ways of fending it off. Or better yet, just facing it head on by all means necessary.

FACING (MY) DEPRESSION HEAD-ON (BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY)

Disclaimer: Again, before I start this section, I will remind everyone that this entire post is all my personal experiences as well as my own opinions on this matter, so please do not take this as a medical or health advice. You can take this as a spiritual advice and you can even ask me about it. I’m glad to help. Other than that, please seek professional help. BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY. I am not responsible for any losses of any kind due to following my own personal methods here, any bodily harm or mental injuries sustained by the end user are done of their own accord, and I am not liable for such losses. Everything here with regards to methods are RISKS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

OK. Now that’s out of the way, I will now write here how I deal with my own depression and suicidal thoughts,assuming that I’m still here. I’m not saying that I will not kill myself yet, but I am fully aware that other things can kill me and therefore those won’t count. Also, I haven’t watched the entire Fantastic Beasts franchise yet, and my need-to-watch anime and series lineup is still long, plus Avatar The Last Airbender is gonna be on Netflix next year so nope, I still need to live.

Kidding aside, here is what I USED TO DO whenever the relapse comes in full-swing:

Binge-watch anything I’m interested in

Binge-read whatever is available

Binge-doing whatever activity I’m into at the moment (drawing, reading Tarot cards, learning Japanese, cooking weird food, etc.)

Binge-like anything on my tumblr feeds

Get super-obsessed with the canon and headcannon biographies of fictional characters (Hi wikia and AO3 lolol)

Cry and cry and cry even if I don’t know why (It doesn’t even matter how hard I try lolol did you sing that part in your head lol kidding I am trying to lighten up things here)

Of course, after doing all of these, I eventually end up wanting to die because the problem or the cause of my depression remains unsolved. Notice that I didn’t put “contacting close friends” or “connecting to loved ones” there. Because I don’t. I was never raised to ask for help, I was raised to do shit alone. And that also killed a huge part of me because quite frankly, I know that I need help but whenever I tried to reach out I get put-out or shushed, so eventually I never bothered to ask for any help. I just stuck it out all alone. While this method is typically great for doing GROUP PROJECTS by yourself (and cursing the other members out loud or in your head), this is definitely NOT ADVISABLE when dealing with mental health issues. Of course I didn’t know these back then, there was no internet, I didn’t have friends or relatives to talk to, plus I had no idea (or the people around me for that matter) that I was actually depressed. At 7 years old. Maybe 6. Around that time. This was in the early 90s.

But in this day and age, thanks to the internet, more and more information can be shared. Even better is that support groups are actually available, and you can join forums too, so people get to share so many stuff. Of course, I tried that, and it worked for about 6 months before I realized that in most groups I joined in, they weren’t exactly dealing with the depression in the most empowering way, so I got stuck in the victim mentality for a very long time. And the cycles of off-on depression mode kept getting worse each time. That’s when I decided to do things differently, and again, without drugs. FACING THE DEMONS IN MY HEAD is what I call it.

These are currently my go-to combination of methods when dealing with a depression relapse:

Shadow Work - Originally by Carl Jung, the principle is basic: identify the parts of yourself that you rejected due to external pressure, and heal them by understanding why it was rejected and suppressed, releasing the emotional charge by crying it out or something to that effect, and accepting that rejected part fully and without any regret. These aren’t the exact steps by Jung, but I just modified the method for myself. It’s pretty harsh because you need to face past trauma without any emotional attachments, and well, it can also do more harm than good. Only recommended to be done with a professional. Unless you’re a masochist. Just search the internet for Carl Jung and Shadow work for more info, I’m sure it’s quite famous.

Inner child healing - same as previous, but this time focusing more on the inner child (duh). Usually anything that persists for me, I would readily attribute to inner child issues so I would go to that part of myself and relive the trauma. Then pat my inner child and hug her till I stopped crying. By the way, crying is definitely included in almost every step. It’s soothing and also is a great way to transmute trauma. Provided that you’re fully aware of how the trauma happened and you’re able to release it fully. Again, if symptoms persist, consult a professional.

Kundalini Yoga and Meditation - amazingly there are many methods or kriyas and some are for dealing with depression. I call this method “killing two birds with one stone”, mainly because you get a real hard-core workout especially the upper body, and you lift your spirits up. Just search the internet for various methods, but I think 3HO is the one-stop shop for binge-reads. Again, crying is very much a part of this method because at some point, it will all just flow out.

Sound therapy - crystal singing bowls, gongs, tingshas, binaural sounds, isochronic music, subliminal messages, the works. I usually go to Youtube and just binge whatever I need at the moment. Sometimes I feel at peace, other times I just randomly cry. It just happens.

Energetic healing - again, there are numerous methods. I usually go for Reiki since it works for me, and because I can channel a bit more energy either from the original video or music, or on my own. Crying is again, an optional but very helpful step.

Emotion Code - This is the latest method I have learned, and tried. Created by Dr. Bradley Nelson, this method allows suppressed emotions, those you experienced yourself as well as the ones you inherited to be released from your body. You only need this chart, a fridge magnet, and determination. Also crying, if you can.

The stuff in my WHAT I USED TO DO list. - Seriously, self-healing depression is a very tiring and exhausting activity. Please, by all means, make yourself happy. In fact, YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY TO SURVIVE THIS GRUELLING ACTIVITY. Whatever means necessary. Don’t worry, I won’t judge.

Other methods I tried in the past:

Parts work - It is like Shadow Work, but the rejected parts of your self have different age groups. I discovered it before Shadow work and for a while I tried my best to do it, but I still didn’t mesh with it after 2 months so I did Shadow Work instead. Maybe I’m just not cut out for it. I recommend the late Pete Gerlach’s website for more info and even methods and stuff. Super-educational, with some drawbacks. Still it maybe useful for others so please take a look.

Diet adjustments - Some say that food and nutrition affects moods,and maybe yeah, because many foods do create metabolites that become converted into chemicals that eventually become hormones. But for me, it didn’t work as well as the other methods. I mean, I eat a lot of veggies and fruit even before I was depressed and spritually awakened, and quite frankly nothing in this area changed me so I don’t include this in my list.

Again, note that I still haven’t included talking to other people in my list. Because again, I just can’t accept help properly, and I still want to do things on my own. HOWEVER, I tell the people I care for the most and also care for me that I HAD a depression relapse. I tell them after I won the battle, even for that moment. It kinda helps a lot. But this time I don’t want to energetically tie myself to others, I have to transmute my own shit so people won’t have to get mine. I also shield myself so their stuff won’t stick to me. It’s how I understand how karma should be worked out of our systems, it’s a DIY thing. Otherwise you just add more karma on top of your own.

Well, I don't know how to end this post, apart from the fact that this is still an on-going process for me. Case in point, honestly I am literally crying right now as I type this last part out. It took me 5 hours to type and it's a post worth almost my entire life so far, but I hope it's all worth it, for anyone who needs help in any way. I am not glorifying depression or suicide or even addictions here, I am putting this out there as information. This post has been at the back of my mind since the Lion's gate but I relapsed and I just got back so I could write it as orderly as I can. So please, I hope this post won't be misquoted or skewed or even be taken out of context. Again, this is mostly for educational purposes only. Especially when you feel like you're in the dark night of the soul.

Anyway, I hope this was helpful in any way possible. If you need any help *spiritual and/or energetic only, not a doctor guys* just shoot a comment or a message, and I'll see what I can do.

I hope you find the healing you seek. In love and hugs from Source above.

Mikazuki

三日月

**Special Note: While this whole thing is free to heart, share, attach a link-back of the original html (href, if you know what I mean), and to cite in any style (APA, MLA, Turabian, etc.) around 10-20% of its content, please, under any circumstances, FOR THE LOVE OF GLOB DO NOT COPY AND PASTE AND DECLARE THIS AS YOUR OWN. These are my own personal experiences, basically these are parts of myself that I need to transmute in order to heal. However, as this is already an output it is now included in the do-not-steal-entirely-or-else sections of the internet. Especially for people who just simply steal other people’s work as their own. I used to work as an editor and even now I do my best to cite sources, or at the very least insert links to sources that I actually used. Be respectful of content creators, large or small. Don’t take away from us the things that we made with all of our hearts. Those are the only things that help keep us up. Also, because you have no right do that you know. And just a reminder, Karma is a real b****. Just saying. Thank you very much for understanding. PS. If you found the information in this post to be very helpful, insightful, and of great value to you and your own personal journey, please feel free to reblog, share and heart/like, or if you feel super-generous, energetic exchanges are welcomed! Please click here and use this email address: [email protected] you so much and be blessed!

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imaginedeux · 6 years ago

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Catch Fire (P.P. AU) Pt.2

Part: 1

Word count: 1,340

“MR. STAAAAAARK!” Peter yelled, running into Tony Stark’s office. “MR. STAR-”

“What is it Spider-ling?” Tony asked getting up from his desk, already fed up with the head ache the teenager was bringing him.

“T-There’s another h-h-hero! There was f-f-fire, and massive amounts of carbon, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, o-oxygen! She could get into Karen, and she kept calling me kid, and her eyes lit up, and the police and she calls herself ‘Messiah’ and-” Peter rambled, taking off his mask. With him flailing his arms around, to him yelling at the top his lungs, Tony could only understand bits and pieces of what the teen was saying.

“Alright, hold up. You’re going to have to run that again, and in a voice that won't give me a migraine.”

“There’s another hero she calls herself Messiah. She can control fire, Karen did a scan on her and she had massive amounts of carbon, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, oxygen, and another unknown element. She was able to hack into Karen, and-” Peter explained before Tony stopped him in his tracks.

“W-what do you mean they hacked into Karen? Thats impossible!”

“That’s what I thought as well sir.” Karen spoke from around them. “But she was able to bypass all the walls you put up sir. I did another test, but she doesn't seem to have connection to me at this moment.”

“Karen show me what Peter’s talking about.” Tony ordered, as a screen appeared on the window behind his desk, showing the outside of the bodega. The scene played out as Peter explained before, and the mystery girl’s voice rang through the room as she tapped into Karen’s system and when the whole ordeal was over. “She seems to be your age Peter, are you sure you don't recognize their voice?”

“N-no I don't. I don't know every kid my age Mr. Stark.” Peter stuttered, looking over the footage from earlier. “I’ve never even heard of another hero in this part of town, especially not one with the ability to manipulate fire.”

“She seems to know what she’s doing. She made sure that no one was hurt, and probably called the police herself,cause she knew that the hostages would probably be too scared to call. Friday, look up all calls to the police within the last hour near that corner store.” Tony commanded his A.I., the footage from the corner store was replaced by thousands of numbers flying across the screen.

“There was one call made from a mobile phone, under the name Ramiro (Y/L/N).” Friday’s voice rang through the speakers around the two super heroes.

“That can't be right, check for relatives.”

“Already ahead of you sir, he had a wife names Lana (Y/L/N), and a daughter, (Y/Full/N), but both Ramiro and Lana passed away during the battle against Loki.”

“Wait, (Y/N)? Is she around my age?” Peter asked, hearing how familiar the name sounded.

“Yes she's only a year older than you, she attends Lexington Academy, and lives by herself in an apartment provided by Stark Industries after the loss of her parents.”

“I know her.” Both Tony and Peter said at the same time.

“How do you know her Mr. Stark?” Peter asked looking at Tony, who was starring at the photo Friday brought up onto the screen.

“She’s technically my goddaughter.”

“WAIT, WHAT?”

“I was close friends with both Ram and Lana, having met them when things were at an all time low for me, and when (Y/N) was born they asked if I would like to be her godfather, to which I said yes. After everything with Loki happened, I found out that they were killed. (Y/N), was almost tossed into foster care, but I was able to come in and stop that from happening.”

“Then why doesn't she live with you here?”

“Because I knew that if anyone found out that (Y/N) was in any way shape or form related to me, she could be targeted by who ever had a vendetta against me or the Avengers. Thats why I payed in full for her and a couple of other families that were affected, to live in any apartment they chose. (Y/N), said she wouldn't leave her childhood home, so she chose to stay there.”

“Does she know your her godfather?” Peter asked, looking up at the other super hero.

“I don't think so. She’s never contacted me outside of saying there were minor repairs needed at her apartment, there was a fire that rang out in her kitchen a couple of months ago, but it doesn't seem like she was hurt. Thats besides the point, how do you know her Spiderling?”

“Oh-oh! I only met her today, she’s a friend of a friend. She had a completely different demeanor when we met. She was constantly apologizing for being late. During the fight, she looked like she had all the confidence in the world. Except for when she was in a confined space using her powers. Before I went in she mumbled that she hoped that she didn't hurt anyone.” Peter explained, trying to remember everything about this girl from the past couple of hours.

“Well fire is a beast that if set free, can cause damages that no one can undo.” Tony mumbled, looking up at your ID photo up on the screen thanks to Friday. “Do you have school tomorrow?”

“Um no, its summer, schools out.” Peter explained looking between Tony and the photo of you. “Why?”

“Well it says she works at a bodega, I’m saying we should go and visit (Y/N).”

“Hi, welcome to Jaime’s Sh- h-hey Peter! M-Mr. S-stark, how can I help you guys?” You asked from behind the counter of the bodega. You could feel your heart rate accelerate as the two walked into the bodega.

“H-Hey, (Y/N), u-um how are you doing?” Peter stuttered.

“G-Good, and yourself? And you M-Mr. Stark? I-I’ve never seen you in these parts of town.” You stuttered, failing at trying to calm yourself down.

“Alright, (Y/N), do you have any place so the three of us can talk. Privately.” Tony asked, more like commanded, walking up to the counter you were behind.

“U-um, I’m working, and I need to take care of the bo-” You started before someone walked out from the back room.

“(Y/N) ¿Que esta pasando?” Your boss, Jaime asked walking up to the counter, oblivious to who was in the store.

“N-Nada Don Ramirez, u-um Señor Stark necesita hablar conmigo, ¿Lo puedo llevarlo atrás?” You asked gesturing to Tony, who had a smile on his face as your boss recognized the superhero.

“¡Si, Si! I-It’s so nice to see you S-Señor Stark, a-anything you need it free!” Your boss, offered in broken English. After politely rejecting the offer, you, led Tony and Peter to the back room, for once in the last give or take 6 months, you actually felt cold.

“S-So, what’s the occasion?” You asked, closing the door behind you, before anyone could answer you felt a shift in the room. Quickly turning, you took a boxing stance, your hands clenched together, desperate to let out the embers that slowly started to surround them.

“We only came to talk to you, (Y/N), or do you prefer the name Messiah.” Tony said, holding up his arm that was covered by his suit, ready for anything. Who knew a watch with nano tech could be so useful? Taking deep breaths, you shifted your attention to the other teenager in the room. Peter had taken a fighting stance as well, his knees were slightly bent, his left shoulder drooped forward slightly as he right arm was held up almost parallel to the ground, the two middle fingers of his right hand twitching forward towards his palm. You’d seen that stance before, and it wasn't just over the internet, but also in person.

“No way...” You whispered, your eyes still locked on Peter. Allowing your arms to fall to your sides, the embers in your hands danced into nonexistence in the air around you.

#Catch Fire AU #peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland au

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sidncymiller · 7 years ago

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ayyyyyy friends it’s ya boi back at it again with another caustic, indifferent fuck ( ive got a type sue me ) but this ones like... a little less (ง'̀-'́)ง and a little more ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ya feel ?? anyway this is gonna be quick & dirty cause i dont have the bio done yet but theres some basic stats here if ur freaky like that. also she’s more into like.... people as a whole than mal is so ( as much as i love fighting everyone ) i’d love to make some connections w the charas he doesnt interact with or is a cock to !! lol ok i’ll catch y’all under the cut pce out

she’ll answer to sidney but prefers sid (or miller if you’re one of those)

demigirl, she/her pronouns and “girl” as a descriptor are fine, but for the love of god don’t call her a Woman it makes her skin crawl

pansexual but mostly a big tease who cant Seal the Deal, possibly on the ace spectrum somewhere or maybe she just watches too much porn who knows these days

as you may have inferred from her multitude of maybe-kinda-sorta labels she is a Child Of The Internet

bad case of blue and orange morality, thanks to being born and raised right here in sunny fictumterra!! she values privacy, loyalty and free will pretty high, human life and welfare pretty low, like a good fictumterran (fictumite?)

then again she does get pretty bummed out if someone new comes to town and she Digs them and then they get turned into a lamp or hot dog or whatever,,,, weak,,,,

uh she was into gymnastics as a kid and joined the cheer squad in hs just because it seemed like exactly the thing she Wouldnt do and she’s a big ‘ol contrarian

unfortunately!!! she went partially blind in her right eye when she was sixteen and her parents poisoned her and all that time spent practicing balance and spatial aawreness and shit went right out the fckn window THANKS MOM

ok backtracking a litte

her parents were members of a pro-gun, anti-government cult before she was born and got caught up in a teensy little federal building bombing and had to hightail it to FT when one of their compatriots ( fckn coward ) flipped on the group, under the advisement of their Supreme Leader

lets call him Shmavid Shmoresh

he told them to await further instructions, so they set up shop in FT and waited. since they were natural born sheeple, they acclimated to the way of life pretty quickly, and when sid was born she was brought up under the town’s value system, and now im repeating myself

ANYWAY they didn’t hear from the group until sixteen years later when Shmavid was about to be executed and announced that it was time for everyone to Ascend or whatever

so, good followers they were, they made their evening tea and laced it w rat poison and waited for the sweet chariot to swing low

unfortunately they fucked up on sid’s dosage and she survived, though, as mentioned, the poison did fuck with her cortical vision, as well as giving her an exceptionally sensitive stomach

basically she can’t eat too much or anything too rich or spicy bc her stomach linings all fucked, lots of broths and and rice and stuff, everything else comes back up, ya girl got v skinny and has mixed feelings bout that

uhhhh shes like constantly eating sugar tho, usually bubble gum, sometimes suckers or slushies. shes not supposed to but it doesnt make her puke and if she doesn’t see an immediate consequence she doesnt care ALSO she doesnt appreciate your oral fixation jokes i mean youre probably right but get some new material ok

also she still drives??? she refuses to accept that shes blind (ish, too blind to drive, ever heard of anton-babinski syndrome?) and regularly scratches or dents other peoples cars and leaves a note that says like ‘oops’ on their windshield or whatever, she loves driving you cant take it from her get fucked

her own car is a pinto thats so dinged up its basically round at this point

when her parents died there was some contention as to where she was gonna live when she got out of the hospital (not like anyone was gonna call state-run social services) so she ended up being temporarily placed in a pink flamingo room and is..... still there.....

at this point its her place she brought in her own bedding and taped pictures to the wall and installed like 40 locks on the door ok TRY to get her to leave

she works at food world to pay the (internet) bills, but her REAL job (as far as shes concerned) is running her blog ‘memoirs from murderville’ (she was a teen when she named it ok she KNOWS its dumb but she cant change it now cause fckn #branding. trust her, she hates it more than you do)

its essentially a diary that she writes under the name jim sheldon (an homage to the badass author alice sheldon, who wrote under the pseudonym james tiptree jr) about her life and daily experiences in FT with all the names and relevant details and such changed

it started as a stupid joke (and a way for her to disassociate!!! holla) when she was in high school, but then it got a shout-out on some true crime podcast, and then it was in some buzzfeed article, and shit spiraled out from there

everyone assumes its an elaborate piece of fiction and its lauded in certain communities for it’s ‘brutal authenticity’ and ‘delightfully irreverent narrator’ and ‘creative spin on unsolved crime’ and ‘disturbing satire of millennial detachment in the media age’

lol academics are so weird amirite

anyway because of her commitment to the blog she makes it a priority to get to know as many residents and visitors as she can, looking for the best content and recurring characters

shes kind of a dick and definitely a shit head but she really, genuinely does care about people’s stories (even if she doesn’t care much about most people themselves)

is she a killer??? no. well, maybe. she could be persuaded, probably. for the experience. maybe she’d like it who knows not me

does she have a death wish??? no. well, maybe. a little bit. she certainly values a good story more than she does her own dumb mortality. if it comes down to boring or dead, she’d pick dead :)

ok this got a lot longer than i thought !!! soml !!! if you read all this stream of consciousness nonsense ur an angel thank you !!!

as far as connections and such i would LOVE unknowing subjects/recurring characters in her blog, knowing subjects of her blog who love the attention, friends??? (what a concept lol), OH someone who deeply disapproves of the blog and finds it trivializing??? dangerous??? idk whatever theres lots of reasons to hate it??? maybe they wanna take it down???, LONG TIME RESIDENTS WHOVE KNOWN HER SINCE SHE WAS A KID, maybe someone who took up a parental mantle after her parents fucked off to the great gig in the sky??, uh maybe an ex or ex-friend who was disconcerted by her constant need for action and danger and bailed OR the opposite, one who pushed her a little too far and she had to bail??

idk man the possibilities are endless hmu love yall

#crimetown.intro #tw hanging #tw asphyxiation #tw suicide #tw murder #tw bombing #tw poison #i think thats all of it???#damn seth calm tf down

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jleighwrites · 4 years ago

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Through the Looking Glass [Unedited]

Quen inspected himself in the glowing mirror, knowing that the reflection was truly his own. He stood at 5 foot 8; a bit short, but he didn't mind. His ochre skin was clear and his hair was cut into a clean blowout. Apparently that was popular back in the 20's. His amber-colored eyes gleamed back at him, tarnished only by the dark circles underneath. Many of his acquaintances had gotten rid of theirs, but he liked how it made him feel human.

When he was finished getting ready for the day, he stepped into the hall and made his way to one of his family's augmented reality chambers, or ARCs for short. When he reached the door, he took out his personal ID and held it in front of a small screen next to the door. It beeped once before flickering to life.

"Quenton Jarod Harris, Junior attending Paulson R. Stewart High. Would you like to begin Classes for the day?" it asked in a robotic voice.

"Yes," he replied.

"Creating Scenario… Connecting to server… Finalizing… Start-up complete. Have a good day, Quenton Harris."

He swung the door open and was met by a bustling school hallway. Dozens of beautiful faces were chatting with each other, walking past each other, and scrambling to finish assignments that should've been done the night before. He let the door creak shut behind him and it disappeared into the wall. He hadn't taken two steps before the robotic voice was back.

"Message received. Sender : Juulia Brewer. Would you like to open the message?" Quen let out a heavy breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He regretted having skipped coffee this morning. The system repeated itself, "Would you like to open the message?"

"Yes."

An opaque, digital, blue message box appeared before him. As he walked, it stayed in the same position, phasing through classmates as he went, but they didn't flinch. To be fair, they couldn't even see it on their side.

Morning!! :DDD

In cafeteria.

Meet there??? uwu

Quen rolled his eyes at the emotes. Juuls had an obsession with "Millennial Texting", as she called it. In fact, she was kind of a nerd for it. She was the only one that had taken an interest in that era. American History classes taught them that the first 30 years of the century were dark times, but somehow Juulia managed to find light in them.

He reached out and pressed the X in the top right corner of the message box, causing it to blink away. "Hey, Google?" he called.

"What can I help with?"

"Teleport me to the Cafeteria."

"Sure. Now teleporting Quenton Harris to the cafeteria."

The noises and sight of the hallway faded into a blue void. Here, it was relaxing. Here, he could breathe easy. And just like that, it was gone. The void transformed into the cafe and the garbled mess of voices was back.

He scanned the faces before him one by one, trying to discern his friend in the sea of Glowing radiance. On the days that he had to use ARC, it was always significantly harder to recognize Juulia. With ever-changing hair colors and styles, vast varieties of makeup, and feature correction, the only way he could tell the difference was when their name appeared in front of them when he met their gaze.

A girl sitting a few tables down stood up and began to wave her arm around; he didn't have to see her to know it was Juuls. Disregarding the built-in recognition program, the greeting was a dead giveaway. She did this almost every morning, whether in person or through ARC.

He made his way through the crowd, literally. Instead of bumping shoulders with people, their holograms simply phased through him. The chamber, however, did produce realistic copies of inanimate objects. He plopped down on the nanobit replica of a bench at his school's lunch table.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Oh. Em. Eff. Gee. You literally took forever, lol," Juulia replied. A couple students around the two of them glanced their direction, giving them odd looks.

"Proximity chat," Quen reminded her. He took a moment to adapt to her new look. He assumed that she had been trying to look like one of those 'E-girls' that she was always on about. With neon pink hair, a beanie, and dark makeup, she looked completely different than she did yesterday.

"Oof. They just don't have good taste. The 20's were so… Lit."

"That's new."

"What? Lit? It just means, like, cool, but better."

"You're so weird."

"Pog."

And with that, the bell rang. Immediately, he was sucked back into the loading void briefly before being spit out into his first class of the day. He took his seat as the teacher appeared in the room. She was beautiful and could pass for 25, though she was actually 20 years older.

"Alright everyone, sit down please. Today, we'll be talking about why we're here. We all know that the early years were just about as bad as they could get. But they had some major influence on how things work in modern day."

Juulia would be bouncing off of the walls if she were here right now. Fortunately, she didn't have this class until after lunch. He was spared of her over-enthusiasm for now.

"Did you know that ARC was developed a few years after the events of the Covid 19 pandemic? It took a while, but when it was released to the public it was an instant success. Can you believe they used to hold classes through video chats on a computer?"

A hand in the back went up. The teacher motioned towards the student, urging her to ask her question. "What's a computer?" It seemed that everyone had been wondering the same thing, Quen included, because they all shifted their vision from the student to the teacher.

The teacher chuckled. "It was a large device that used to be kept on desks before technology was integrated into Glass."

"They only had technology on the 'computer'?" another student asked.

"I mean, they had other forms of technology. They had smart watches, smartphones, smart TVs… But most of their time connected to the internet was spent on a computer or on the smartphone, which is what we now call our Shard."

Quen had to admit, everything about the early 21st century was something else. But where it intrigued Juuls, it brought up a bad taste for him. To him, it was just the beginning of the death of authenticity.

After what felt like hours of droning, the class was finally wrapping up. Google's voice broke him from his thoughts. "Message received. Sender : Crystalinne Harris. Message saved for later."

"I've sent an assignment reminder to all of you. Your homework is a 500 word essay on what 'Facebook' was before it created Glass."

He scoffed at the assignment before the next bell rang, whisking him off to his second class.

When the final bell of the day rang, the low hum enveloping him whirred into silence as ARC powered down. Without the machine running, he stood in a room made up of nanobits. The tiny metal balls made up the walls, floor, ceiling, and even this side of the door. All of them worked to create the illusion of being in an actual school, when in reality, he'd been inside a room no more than 10 feet wide and 10 feet long all day.

He stepped out of the chamber and made his way into the kitchen, where he was met by his mother and father. "How was school today?" She asked. His father pulled a latte from the Keurig and sipped it as he waited for a response.

"It was alright. Just another day," he replied, "Dinner smells good."

"Oh, yeah. They delivered lemon pepper steak and asparagus today. All of our portions are already in the oven."

"That's… Lit," he said, a smug sense of pride flickering within.

"That's funny, son. Haven't heard that since Gran was alive. Get that from, what's her name? Jessica?"

"Juulia. Yeah." His father's beard was getting shaggy, he noticed. Since he had started using Glass, he had been letting it grow out. Seemingly, it didn't bother him much any more. His father had been adamant about leaving Glass alone for most of his life and had taught him to do the same, but when Grey hairs began to appear, he decided to finally give in.

Honestly, he wasn't surprised. Glass was wildly popular internationally. It had originally been bought out by the American government in 2040, probably for facial tracking, and integrated into every single building since then. It was everywhere. He and his dad were two of only six or seven people that he knew of that didn't use it. But now, he couldn't even say that.

After dinner, he had decided to take a hot shower. The water on his skin felt nice and he let the steam relax his muscles. When he finished, he dried off and wrapped his towel around his waist. Stepping in front of the mirror, a pleasant chime sounded.

"Glass activated," a voice with a programmed British accent sounded through the surrounding speakers. The edges of the mirror lit with a white backlight and menus appeared on the screen in glowing, white letters. A box formed around his face, his name appearing above it. "User : Quenton Harris detected. Set nickname : Quen."

He began to comb his hair into place when the voice rang out, "Quen, would you like to use the Autofix function?" A white bar highlighted the "Autofix" option on the menu.

"No," He replied sternly.

He finished with his hair and quickly brushed his teeth. When he smiled so that he could check them, the voice came again, "Light enamel stains detected. Would you like to use the Autofix function?"

"No."

It was irritating to hear it trying to coerce him into using it, knowing that it used that method to get so many people addicted to it. He simply shook his head. That's how it starts. A quick fix here, a minor upgrade there…

He pulled on a sleep shirt and some sweatpants, tossed his towel into the laundry chute, and headed for his room. He needed to write his essay and get some rest for the next day. It would be Tuesday, which meant live classes.

Quen's alarm beeped, rousing him from his slumber. He sat up in bed and stretched, before lowering himself to the floor. "1, 2, 3, 4…" he counted the sit-ups in his head as he started his quick morning workout routine. He had always been physically active. Staying healthy had been a big goal for him. The way things were now, even with the best Healthcare, people hardly ever made it past their 50's. He wouldn't let himself be a victim of the system.

50 sit-ups, crunches, and push ups later, he stood up. Began getting dressed for the day. A white button up and a tie, he wanted to look nice. Of course, Glass attempted to goad him into Autofixing himself, and just like every other day, he had none of it.

Finally, he felt confident. He was ready for the day. He grabbed his backpack from the back of his desk chair after ensuring that his report on Facebook was packed. Since he was heading out of the house, he also snagged his Shard from the charging pad and shoved it into the pocket of his black jeans.

He strode down his driveway and stopped next to his mailbox. After a few minutes, a large, white bus with no windows arrived. He climbed in and heard a chime over the bus' speakers. The British voice spoke, "Quenton Harris has boarded."

He made his way to an empty seat and plopped down. The first thing he noticed, like always, was the smell. An amalgam of body odors swirled around the cramped space, making him sick to his stomach.

Inside the bus, you could see the surroundings on the installed Glass screens, almost like windows. He turned his focus to the passing buildings as he tried to block out the horrendous scent surrounding him. He was one of the last stops, so he wouldn't have to endure it for very long. He slid his Shard out of his pocket and began to read the day's headlines. The war overseas was still raging on, as expected. The weekly universal paycheck rate was 31 dollars more than the last. And another round of the Meta-Vaccine was going to be made available before fall, hopefully to prevent as many infections as possible.

The bus rolled to a stop in front of the real Paulson R. Stewart High. When the doors creaked open, the automated voice announced that it was time to evacuate. He passed by the empty driver's seat and stepped out onto the curb, letting fresh air flow into his lungs. For the first time since last Thursday, he smiled.

Quen enjoyed the few moments he had in the outdoors as he strode to the entrance. Biding his time, he held the door open for other students. Unfortunately, he knew he had to go in.

He stepped into the real hallway, which looked almost exactly the same as it did in the ARC replica. There were three main differences. First, the smell. Just like on the bus, it was everywhere. It absorbed every crevice, every corner. It was disgusting. As much as it bothered him, no one else seemed to mind.

Second, the students he saw today were nothing like the ones that had been in his simulation yesterday. Where beautiful faces surrounded him before, he was now engulfed in a sea of low effort. Hair was frizzy, tangled, and out of place. Clothes were wrinkled and stained. And the worst, it was obvious that most of his classmates didn't take care of themselves. They were supposed to reach the peak of their physicality at ages 16 through 18. If this is what "peak" looked like, he understood why the average life expectancy was decreasing.

Third, Glass was everywhere. It made up all of the windows, all of the mirrors, and even lined the walls in some places. It kept track of each student as they navigated the hallways. The 'Assistant' feature was turned off, which meant no obnoxious voice trying to pressure him into anything, but it still worked it's magic in the reflections. Each user's Autofix settings synced up with every Glass that was linked to the system, which was - legally - all of them.

It disgusted him, the way people walked around, acting all high and mighty. Just because they never had to see their true selves didn't mean that no one would. The problem was, they didn't care. After graduation, They would be assigned a home, a mate, and a job. And after that, the only ones that would have to see them would be their direct family. All other interactions would be carried out in ARC, which had a partnership with Glass.

These moments, here, in Paulson R. Stewart High, were the last bits of his fleeting reality. Someone bumped into his shoulder, causing him to stumble out of the way. A bigger guy wearing a pair of eyeGlass gave him a strange look. "Sorry, man. Hard to tell the days apart," his apology sounded genuine, "Your fix looks nice."

"Don't worry about it. And thanks, but it's not an Autofix," Quen replied. The guy chuckled for a moment before tilting his head down to peek over his eyeGlass.

"No kidding. Well, good for you, man. Between you and me, they really need to get it together," he said, looking over the crowd. He shifted his gaze back to Quen, "Compared to us, they look pretty rough."

The sad thing was, he probably hadn't seen his true self in years. "Yeah, man. Well, see you around." Quen left him behind and began walking towards the cafeteria. There was only one person he wanted to talk to.

An arm linked through his, and through a haze of vanilla scented perfume, a familiar voice chimed, "Bruh, you got here earlier than me today. That's wack." He didn't have to look to know who it was. When he turned to her, he was engulfed by her radiance. She was authentic. She was real.

#short story #sci fi #writing #fiction #technology #future #Spotify

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ritterkaitlyn1991 · 4 years ago

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Signs Of Bacterial Vaginosis Wondrous Cool Tips

For most women, as well as the result is often observed.Specifically talking about the symptoms subside.Make sure you use a professional strategy which uses other natural products.Tea tree oil is highly beneficial as it gets if you suffer from recurring bv?

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Supplement with Vitamin C is a fishy odor from the initial stages.Bacterial Vaginosis in the vaginal flora.* Tea tree oil is a big fact that they will kill off bacteria, but there are solutions available.Neither will you feel as though you have it, then practice safe sex.Most women complain about having this infection away.

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Bacterial Vaginosis Kohl's Credit

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Food cannot cause BV multiply to unhealthy levels.The simplest of the membranes and premature births.Researchers and doctors are seeing a rise in its early stages, if bacterial vaginosis the above remedies to cure bacterial vaginosis infection attacks.Taking probiotic supplements such as yeast infection, but the smell makes you have found out that my symptoms would often flare up in the beginning, after while the bad bacteria are similar to that of a complete cure.* Dip a tampon in yogurt then insert it into the vagina will sway towards being alkaline and this could be firmly put on the product label for dosage details.

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Bacterial Vaginosis Cause Early Miscarriage

All that is found to work within hours and most embarrassing, are the low potency's just to be consumed orally.I took multi vitamin w/zinc, flax seed oil, garlic & vitamin C.Holistic cures and herbal treatments which can upset your delicate bacterial balance within the vagina, it is important to help cure an existing notion about BV if one has sex with a yeast infectionFurthermore, studies have shown that in most cases.Follow this method for a problem as well as Gentian Violet are both good and bad bacteria start to dominate and rule.

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#Signs Of Bacterial Vaginosis Wondrous Cool Tips #Can Bacterial Vaginosis Cause Swollen Lymph Nodes

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themadvigilantist · 4 years ago

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dantalion - all of the following original info is from (here) and i’ll just end up making references to this (I ALREADY HAVE PAST ME and i put a small edit there but, everything else?? solid. but i mean the version of dantalion i play as??? won’t mention any of these because he does what he wants so all of this, for the most part. he should because this is a great resource if there’s just not enough lore about solomon’s lesser key demon!!eventhoitsnotofficialbutilikeit) so my commentary is [like this]

“Who is Dantalion you may well ask… and it shall be answered” (…)

Dantalion - Spirit of knowledge, empathy, passion, love, emotions/intellect, Demon of mind.

Abilities (Generally, he can teach you everything that each human in this world has thought about or known, but of course these are his main job)

He knows thoughts of all people and can change them at his will - and also can teach you how to do this (also telepathy) [time lords are perfect hosts]

He teaches all art & sciences (ya know this before, but I wanted to classify it) [time lords are perfect hosts, specifically prydonians/patrexes]

He teaches how to achieve alternative states of consciousness (OOBE, Lucid dream, higher states, past life reading, hypnosis etc.) and he can accompany you during them. [time lords are perfect hosts.]

He can help you open astral senses or knowledge of something that you want to know (but better be ready, cause your brain may take a break for a really long moment…) [time lords are perfect hosts!]

Teaches persuasion, manipulation, lies, flirt, good speeches, relations, mind control, generally all social skills. [time lords are perfect hosts!!!!!!]

He can heal/or help you with low self-esteem, negative thoughts, neuroses, depression, other coded wounds in the subconscious. [time lords are perfect hosts: missy vault scene? just eps centered around bill’s mind?]

He can suddenly put in a state of deep peace and relaxation, and show you how to do this with your mind (He also knows a word which makes your mind calming down). [time lords are perfect hosts: see episode LISTEN]

He shows similitude of any person including your person (it’s for empathy skill, when you want to more understand others or people you may like) [time lords are perfect hosts: any new who and yes, shalka is new who fight me]

He can cause love or other emotions (but remember, it’s not like someone who never knew you will love you automatically, but he/she will have more positive thoughts/attitude towards you) [this why he hates it]

Causes obsession, illusions, fear or hallucinations. [this is fun to him]

Causes lust (No, he’s not a nerd who is sitting on the armchair and reading his book with a moral look of your catholic aunt. He knows what is sex and he knows it very good) [WELL OK THEN]

Finds persons similar to themselves and causes them to unite (even if your other half is in the beyond) [time lords are perfect hosts: see the introduction of missy/danny pink arc]

Knows secrets (knowledge, but not only) and reveals secret councils. [all those secret councils??? he’ll expose if you bad.]

Can show you other aspects of your personality and makes you more charismatic/or who you want to become. [time lords are perfect hosts: that entire rose arc and no, the moment is not part of that arc. sorry! but, the moment herself said she aint rose tyler. so technically she took the form of the first incarnation of the TARDIS’ heart, second being 9th (in books she took the form of war doctor) and 3rd being idris (involuntarily)]

Causes people not paying attention to you ( so you can secretly work) [time lords are perfect hosts: the earth not knowing the doctor/timelords exist plotline...I MEAN]

Preferences (you probably saw lots of other planets/elements/zodiac assigned to him and you were wondering what’s going on - these depends really on aspects, that’s why I mentioned a few, best suited to his nature)

Zodiac - Pisces(venusian), Aquarius (saturnian) Planets - Venus/Moon, Saturn [and this is why dantalion knows venusian aikido] Elements - Water/Air (perfect harmony between the intellect and emotions) Number - 9 [he think he funny w/ that upside down 6. he aint] Quarter - North (north gate) Time - Night time/morning (generally before noon) Color - Gray, red, purple, green, (dark green or dark purple) blue, black. [can you believe that i sure didn’t know about this until i stumbled on this??? a muse meant to be OKAY!!! all those years rping and i was guessing oN A WHIM??? that demon must have told me: do me justice because !!! ] Candle color - Green, purple, generally dark shades (u can also use white) Tarot card - 9 of chalices. Stones - Pearl, emerald. King - Paimon (he’s one of his dukes) [note: formally]

Offerings Raspberries, cherries, tea, honey, whisky, classy wine, flowers - dandelions, roses (especially with passionate colors - he’s a romantic guy) nuts, your love.

Scent - Sandalwood, honeysuckle, jasmine, rose petals.

Appearance Usually shows up as a robed man with women’s and men’s faces and with the book in his right hand (sometimes replaced with a mirror). But he’s a shape-shifter, so he can take any other form. This spirit can look like a man you may personally know (or not) or even he may look like you. You can also see him as a black cloaked figure, black mist with eyes, gray cloud or floating face. He usually appears as a tall and slim man, in style of gentleman or businessman. ( I (the author) usually see him as a man dressed in dark robes with pale skin, black long hair decorated with jewels tied back and with crown) [TALL SLIM MAN ok sure]

Voice Most often dark and deep. Can also be as whispers or male and female alternating voices. Often speaks quite poetically (but he also knows nice slangs) [thanks 15.ai!Tenth Doctor. you right on the money]

Energy (how to recognize) His energy is very strong, focused and deep. You can feel the multidimensional planes of his being and it’s very characteristic. It is very penetrating, surrounding you from all sides and you may feel like your mind is a bit underwater. Generally, his energy is quite psychedelic and the effects are different. After, you may feel on high (like after good marijuana) have a headache or just feel weird. If you look closer, you will also feel great calm from his essence. [time lords are perfect hosts: the matrix]

Personality Just remember one word - COMPLEX. You will never really know how he will behave, because he’s like chameleon - he adapts to people, situations and places. For one, he will be a nice guy full of heat, and for another a dark tricky spirit. He may look cold and serious at the beginning, associated with his “knowledge aspect” (air) but he’s also very emotional spirit. He’s impulsive, determined and it’s quite easy to offend him. He has these two aspects connected (intellect/emotions) with whom empathy and healthy thinking can exist. If he behaves quite dark/annoying/arrogant that’s usually because he wants to protect himself (it was a bit like empath complex - the most openhearted and sensitive people are used by others the most) So he seeks balance and tests people. In reality, he’s a very generous spirit, patient and forgives quite quickly, but also he trusts hard and always needs control (he must see everything).

Dantalion is a spirit who is focused on human bonds, so you may see him talking about ethics/morals or knowledge which opens people to the truth about their nature - that people are the same. We will always be individualists but our needs are very similar - we want to be loved, appreciated and satisfied with our actions. People may create stereotypes, hierarchy, determinants of coolness but no human will create your face and never see through your eyes.

Dandelion (sounds familiar to Dantalion, it’s not a coincidence) is a symbol of this unity. Seeds of this plant may flew away with the wind but they’re still a part of this plant with which they have formed the whole before.

Tips for working

Take it slow. This spirit can make you very obsessed (u feel these nights when you were searching the entire internet to find him and you didn’t know why?) [AHAHAme] Look through your thoughts and set your clear goal - if you want to find him try invoke him or meditate, but don’t rush. Follow your goal not obsession. Dantalion will not run away from this world.

If you want to start relationship with him, prepare for patience again. At the beginning he’s formal, cold and not very emotional. He must find a place for you and adapt. (he’s a real thinker) Show the heart, he will show it too.

Get ready for a tests - he can test your intellect or your transparency in thinking.

Speak directly. He has sense of humor, don’t worry, but sometimes he takes words a bit too literally…[he do tho]

He doesn’t like work alone. If you’re this type and you prefer sit and wait when the spirit will end all his work, this may take a long time (except when these aren’t big things, then no problemo) Otherwise, He may start to make sure you’re still planning to pay him, and everything will be slower. (He non stop must watch what’s going on)

He usually works quick but he sometimes has a several episodes when he’s a bit more limited (idk maybe he has this delegation again) and he answers for a few days. Just wait 3-4 days and if nothing happened try again.

As I said before, it’s easy to offend him. He has big ego. Know your way and know what you want but unnecessary words can cause an awkward atmosphere. Get upset, but continue anyway with determination. Let it be rational and intelligent talk.

Other asks

When you did invocation/prayer and you don’t feel his presence that doesn’t mean he wasn’t there. He usually sees everything with his eye and even he may already work with you but you don’t feel it consciously. He likes working behind the curtain.

Sometimes he acts weird and unexpected. People do strange things, your cat began to like him more than you, one time he wants to talk and the other he prefers to sleep, he walks on the wall, whispers strange things and this day he prefers eat pizza than classy alcohol. Can encourage you to play. It’s just his complex nature. [yep]

He’s not a demanding spirit. Just give him something from your heart or what you think is valuable.

He’s a good guardian when it comes to safety with people.

This spirit has equal gender. Dantalion is both female and male. Here I prefer call him “he” because that was my experience and this spirit’s attitude. [time lords are perfect hosts]

Dantalion is a djinn, demon, fallen angel, dark angel - he’s everything. Name as you want. [he prefer demon/fallen angel because he was an angel]

He may look nice and with good heart but he also HATES. He really gets pissed off and can destroy your life very hard when you think you shouldn’t give him what have you promised earlier (and then there’s no empathy at all …) [time lords are perfect hosts: i did make vin his host for a time for a reason...didn’t think that i end up being true to that character......]

He’s [used to be] a very loyal boy if your work was successful. He can come back to you even after a year without contact.

His attributes/symbols are - eyes/eye, faces, crown, books, the speaker, the judge, Judge’s stuff of high social rank, scepter, psychedelic waves/smoke, dandelions, brain, mask, mirror, water, clouds, the priest (absolutely not about religion but more about education and speaking to people) [EMOJIS]

#mv: reference #mv: decretum #c: dantalion

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sugarcyanide · 7 years ago

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God Among Men

This was going to be a submission to an anthology. My life tumbled and changed and I never submitted. I am posting it here to share, for now.

A God Among Men By Sugar Cyanide

Sometimes you don’t choose your Gods they choose you…

I should preface this with a little background information about myself. I have always been a rebel without a cause and become more of a rebel when given a cause. When everyone is turning right I must go left, usually, the reason is arbitrary at best. The more someone pushes me to go with the herd the more I will fight them and I do enjoy a good fight.

Many moons ago when I was a young Gothling, a wannabe Baby Bat. I had just graduated from high school and was living on my own. While attending the local community college I fell into a group of outcasts. (As one social outcast can only find another.) I soon found what was affectionately called Freaks Corner a section of the cafeteria where all of us misfits hung out. We were there in between classes, during classes and some of us didn’t even attend school there anymore. It was here in Freaks Corner where I graduated from a research Pagan to a practicing Pagan. Freaks Corner was my Mecca, it was everything I always fantasized about in the French Revolution cafes, where writers like Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas met till the wee hours of the morning drinking and debating, right there in modern Suburbia. It was here that I met my first real-life Pagans. People who knew about the things I was just learning and not some faceless screen name half a world way via an internet connection.

They were some of the very worst kind of Pagans that I could have fallen in with. I learned much during my time there everything except what I was taking classes on. In between LARPing Vampire the Masquerade and playing Magic the Gathering was discussions on Nietzsche, Satanism, and Anarchy. This is also where I met my first Unofficial Teacher.

I say unofficial because she refused to teach me. She had taken many a student under her wing but always refused my requests. Finally, she told me that she only teaches those who are not naturally gifted. That she was the “Special Ed” teacher. I never fully accepted this flattering refusal and figured that there was another reason she would never tell me. As one who was never easily deterred, I learned much from her by simply watching and observing.

In this group of people, there were those who dabbled in things they shouldn’t. Soon their eyes started to gleam with a sheen that is a characteristic often associated with movie villains. Everyone in the group started to go off their hinges a bit and the rumors ran rampant. There was talk of demon summoning and animal sacrifice, none of which I was a part of nor saw. I shrugged most of it off as vicious gossip and did my best to not get involved.

My life took a turn as it does and I was pulled away from the group. I would not run into any of them until years later. I had just come out of the Broom Closet to my then husband and was looking for those of like mind that I could share my beliefs. I ran into the old group from Freaks Corner who had graduated to taking up space in a local coffee house. Upon running into my old mentor this time I was drawn into the web like that of a fly to a spider. She had a habit of holding court at a friend’s place around the corner where she would proceed to channel and let herself be ridden by the spirits of her choice, much to the awe and amusement to those in her audience.

At the time the things I experienced in that room was extremely convincing and scary. The things I took part of in my own ignorance. Looking back now I do wonder how much of it was real and how much of it was a great manipulation, an answer I shall never know.

It was during such a session that the name of Set was brought up. She had stated that someone in the group had caught his attention and that he would be watching them. At which point my eye was drawn upward and what did I see? It was like a great ripping of the fabric of reality someone one had pulled way the ceiling and was peering in. With big eyes and a Cheshire grin staring right at me.

Now understand I am not an Egyptian reconstructionist and never was. I did not know who Set was at the time and didn’t really know the Egyptian Pantheon. I was still searching and that was simply not a direction my quest had gone. While I am thankful for those who research and preserve the Egyptian traditions it was simply a path I had yet to cross.

That moment of meeting Set was in the fall. The following was a year of hell. Set was literally invoked into my life and he literally destroyed everything that was not needed. For those that read Tarot, it was like getting the Death card and the Tower card in the same reading. I was completely stripped bare of everything that I had built up from before that time and had to completely start over from scratch. I lost my home, my business, divorced my husband and became seriously ill. He was a sandstorm that came into my life and stripped me down to my bones. His only response to my pleas for mercy was. “I like my children strong you will survive or perish. Anything else matters not.”

I have learned that Set is the epitome of Tough Love. Sink or Swim. I do not regret that time. I learned so much in such a short time. While the learning process was painful one does not forget those lessons because the pain has etched them into your memory. And the rewards of survival the rewards of succeeding after such tribulations are great. My reward was Rocky.

Set is still apart of my life. Sometimes he visits and drops wisdom bombs into my life. Other times he just shows up for a chat.

My God comes to me at night. He whispers in my ear, “Come, you must tell my side of the story”. I pull my overly tired body from the warmth of my bed. Sitting down at my desk, I proceed to transcribe his words as they are dancing the air. He sits beside me on my beat up cat fur covered couch in a suit cut to fit like a glove. Dark royal blue with a soft slate gray pinstripe, a crisp white shirt underneath with the collar open at his throat. His carrot orange-red hair is swept off his face as his finely woven dreadlocks fall to his waist. He smiles at me with a big toothy grin. Chewing on his cigar the gold rings flash on his fingers. It is a cross between corporate executive and old school mobster. Just enough thug, as they say, to know he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. “Write my story,” he says his voice a low rumble next to me, “tell my side.”

Today, I have a story to tell. My brother’s name has been known across the millennia and I with it, as his murderer. While his story has been told and retold across the centuries, mine has been lost. I have played my part and done my duty, but the world has changed and our names have become mere echoes of the past. My duty is over and now it is my turn to share my tale.

Several millennia ago when the world was a much simpler place, a Tribal King celebrated in the news that his Queen would give birth to twin sons. It was a joyous occasion indeed, for one son was a blessing but two was a gift from the Gods. The King was most joyous for He was a hardened man and had fought many battles. Life was difficult and many died young. Having two sons was a great boon indeed for Him and His kingdom.

The day of birth came and the Queen was in labor for hours. Eventually, Her first son arrived, he was small, smaller than normal. He barely fit across both of the King’s palms. The Midwife feared he would not make it through the night. Shortly thereafter, the next baby was born. He was significantly larger than his brother and his skin was as pale as fresh milk, his hair was bright reddish white and his eyes shone red as blood. The Midwife almost dropped the boy out pure shock after she pulled him from his mother. Seeing the mother passed out from exhaustion, the Midwife laid the babe down in his cradle and fled. She was afraid that the King would blame her for this Demon Child, (and rightfully so for that boy was me.)

It took the King’s men a matter of days to hunt her down. She gave herself away by sharing her knowledge of the King’s Demon Child. It was only natural for the King to blame her. He couldn’t blame Himself and certainly not his Lady Love. Someone had to take the blame. I wasn’t quite old enough to shoulder that responsibility, just yet.

Despite my Father’s distaste for me and my Mother’s horror, I grew up in the comfort of love that only one twin brother can have for another. We protected each other; him, me from Father’s wrath and I; him from all the larger boys that would dare bully him. We were polar opposites. I was overly large, pale, red-eyed and haired, sensitive to the sun while he was smaller, dark complected with skin as dark as night and loved to bask in the sun’s afternoon rays. Our differences didn’t matter, we loved each other. Until one day that all changed.

I always felt, that my place was at my brother’s side as his protector. I knew that he as the elder of the two would ascend the throne of our Tribal Kingdom. I felt him no envy. It’s a tedious job being King and much simpler being a soldier. I was willing to give him my life for he was the only one that loved me.

One day a Great Wise One came down out of the mountains. Upon arrival, He demanded to speak to the King. ( In my ignorance, I was surprised that such a meeting was allowed. ) He came bearing a tale of a great slithering beast that would devour us all. I merely thought he was a mad old man but my Father clearly knew better. When the Great Wise One produced a scale that was the size of a chariot and reflected the colors of dawn, I knew He told no madman’s tale. The Wise One demanded a tribute: my Father’s best soldiers to fight the beast. My Father said He would send aid under one condition. The Wise One must find a suitable wife for his eldest son. The Wise One chuckled, saying he would do better and bring wives for both his sons. At this, my Father exploded into a rage, denouncing me as his son, saying that a demon such as I could have never come from his seed. I had always known my Father’s disdain for me, but there is knowing and then there is displaying it for the whole world to see. My Father sent me with the Wise One saying he could spare no one else, fully expecting me not to return.

After having prepared for the journey; shoring off my waist-length locks, burning them as was custom. The Wise One and I set upon our journey and I said farewell to the only home I have ever known, in full acceptance of meeting my death. Alas, that was far from happening. Shortly into our journey, The Wise One revealed his true glimmering nature. He was no old and feeble wizard but a God. He told me that it was true that I was not my Father’s son and to my surprise nor my Mother’s child. Neither was my brother, he said with a toothy grin, " I created you both from Earth and Sky, my children, and implanted you both into your Mother’s womb. Come, my child, let us fight this beast like the Gods that we are."

We had walked miles and traversed much ground. We traveled in a way no human can truly fathom. As you put one foot in front of the other, the whole earth spins, traveling miles in one stride. At the time I was so in awe of my new situation, I was quite dumbfounded and could not properly begin to take in everything that was happening. We eventually arrived at a place in-between. It was neither of the heavens nor of the earth and yet as above so below, so the landscape mirrored what was known to me. We had journeyed into the Underworld and boarded a sailing barge.

The Shining One had said we would find the One That Slithers in the deepest of waters. So I stood at the prow of the barge with my spear ready. At the first sign of the large iridescent scales, I struck without hesitation. The battle ensued for what seemed like hours. As I became covered in the beast’s gore, my muscles grew sore and the ship rocked in the mighty turbulence of the waters. ( I felt myself growing weaker and started to fear I would fail when the Shining One cast his light upon me giving me a strength I never dreamed possible. )

When I thought all was lost, with one final blow, a great sound was released from the beast and the waters trembled no more. I had won, I had defeated the beast. The Shining One looked at me with a sadness in his eyes, “You have defeated the Great Evil and have saved the world of man for yet another day but this victory comes at a price,” as a tear slid down his cheek.

I took the head of the Great Serpent as my victory trophy. We returned as we came, the light of dawn’s first rays lighting our way. I carried the head of the Great Serpent received much attention. When we had returned to my home we had a great entourage with us creating a spectacle upon my Father’s doorstep. My Father came out to investigate what all the excitement was about. Upon seeing the head of the Beast in my hands I saw pride for me in his eyes for the very first time. “Son,” he said loudly, "you do our family a great honor.”

It was in that moment that I had gained my Father’s love that I had lost my brother’s. The Wise Shining One kept his word and brought twin sisters from the Kingdom in the lower lands. Shortly thereafter, we were wedded. After a short while of peace and celebration, I was once again called upon to defeat the Great Slithering Beast. I parted sadly with my new bride, unsure if I were to return.

Alas, duty called and I was the only one with the strength to do what was needed. This soon became an endless cycle, for this beast was of no earthly making. It would soon recover from its most grievous injuries and I would be called away yet again. My wife grew tired of my absences and she started looking for companionship elsewhere.

My brother, having never forgotten how I replaced him in my Fathers eyes, plotted to replace me in my wife’s. I never blamed my sweet wife nor her calculating sister. I had been gone a particularly long time and my wife was fat with child. I was tired when I returned, but seeing her full of life made my heart soar.

It wasn’t until later that I learned that I wasn’t the only possible father. After a while, it began to eat at me that my brother had taken the only thing that had ever meant anything to me. I still continued to battle the beast, for it was a never-ending war. In time, our Father passed and my brother took his place. I realized one day that the Battle Of The Beast was the only thing I had that my brother hadn’t taken from me. After a while, I could not bear to touch my wife, which drove her even more into the arms of my brother. As my son grew I could not see myself in him.

I came to a place where I didn’t want to fight the Demon Beast anymore and the Demon spoke to me during one of our many battles. He told me to build a vessel fit for one person and bring my brother to him. The Beast will take it as a sacrifice and I would be free of my brother and his greediness.

I was weak, I was hurt and when I came home and found my brother in bed with my wife, I did as the Beast spoke. I crafted the finest vessel, gloating how it was made for me. When my brother sought to take it, as he had taken everything else, he was trapped. I gave him to the demon serpent, who drowned him and rent him to bits. I was free from my brother or so I thought…

The Beast did take my brother to the Underworld, where he eventually rose to be King, while I united the upper and lower Kingdoms and created peace in our land. Until my brother’s son wanted revenge for the loss of his father and the cycle started all over again.

For I am Set, and this is my story of how I became a God among men.

#set #egyptian #kemetic #upg #pagan #spirituality #witch #personal path

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