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weaveandwood · 6 months ago

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Weave and Woods Chapter 10: A Wondrous Thing

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Auroria is exhausted from all the perils of the Shadow Cursed Lands and Gale tries his best to get her to actually sleep. The Harpers throw a party after a successful mission rescuing prisoners from Moonrise Towers.

He jumped up from the barstool and made a beeline for the door, pushing past a group of gnomes and two tieflings. Relief washed over him. They’re back, and they were successful. He went out into the courtyard, and saw her smiling and laughing, celebrating with some Harpers who had greeted her and Lae’zel first. She was safe, unharmed. She made eye contact with him and gave a small wave, which he returned. He felt his heart swell inside his chest, unable to be contained anymore. I love her. He was a man possessed. He strode up to her, cutting through the Harpers, bypassing Lae’zel. He saw no one else but her. Only her. Always her.

AN: I love them so much. Thank you for reading this fluffy sweet chapter <3

“You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.” Auroria yawned, her head resting on the bar at the back of the Last Light Inn. “I am exhausted.”

Gale pulled up a stool and sat next to her. It had been a long few days since they got to the Last Light Inn, and she had been going non-stop, sleeping only a couple hours here and there between a flurry of activity. There was finding Dammon and getting Karlach’s engine fixed, getting her ribs crushed by Karlach’s first hug (and thirty seven hugs after that in the past few days), discovering the mysterious man sleeping in the room on the first floor, delivering the news to Arabella that her parents were dead, saving Isobel from a corrupted Flaming Fist, defeating a caravan on their way to Moonrise towers which granted them a pixie’s blessing to be immune to the shadow curse, and now she was developing a plan to both infiltrate Moonrise Towers and rescue the tieflings and the gnomes from the prison. She and Lae’zel poured over maps from previous scouting missions with the Harpers for hours before nodding to each other, satisfied with what they came up with. That was when she went to the bar by herself and finally sat down for the first time all day.

“Why don’t you go take the night off and get some sleep?”

“If I take a night off, then these innocent people are still needlessly trapped in a prison and could die. We told them to come this way - I feel responsible for them. Lae’zel and I are going to go to Moonrise tonight. We can sneak into the prisons easily under the guise of being True Souls, and we have a real chance to break them out without violence. Or much violence anyway,” she laughed softly, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to form in her eyes from her deep felt guilt about her part in the plight of the tieflings.

“I’m worried about you.” He said as he reached out, covering her hand with his. “You don’t have to take on everything - we are all capable. I’ve asked you before to let us carry more weight - a burden shared is a burden halved.”

Her eyes softened as she turned to him and she gave him a half smile. “After being on my own for so long, it’s hard to relinquish control. Please understand me, I’m trying, but I’m used to doing everything myself. If you were talking to the Ora of six months ago, I’d already be at the towers alone, probably getting myself killed or something close to it. At least now, I have company who can talk me out of anything extremely rash when I let my feelings guide me instead of my brain.” She sat up straight, raising both arms over her head to stretch. She saw his eyes flick up and down quickly, trying to be subtle - the stretch was a calculated move on her part. “I promise I’ll sleep tonight. Full eight hours and everything, ranger’s honor.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he smiled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thank you for worrying about me. It feels…nice. No one has worried about me in so long, I forgot what it felt like for someone to care if I live or die.” Auroria reached out this time, grabbing his hand, intertwining her fingers between his. “You’ve shown me that care since the beginning of this strange journey. And…it’s appreciated. I just want you to know that.”

He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, a soft laugh escaping as he nodded. “Perhaps taking care of each other is what we do. You’ve done that for me since I confided in you about my condition, almost no questions asked. How could I not do the same for you? Our party would suffer greatly without you. I would suffer greatly without you.”

“Well, I would imagine, since I’m the one who got all those magical artefacts for you,” she teased, trying to clarify for herself if he was speaking pragmatically or something else. She hoped it was something else.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Ora,” he said softly.

Her face flushed slightly, the tips of her ears turning pink as she considered the implications of what he was saying. She leaned forward a little, closing some of the distance between them.

“Hmm. And what did you mean then, Gale?” She smiled at him, her eyes taking in his handsome face as he looked at her like she hung the moon. Please let him love me , she pleaded to no one in particular.

A throat cleared behind Gale. Auroria looked over his shoulder and saw Lae’zel, standing with her arms crossed. “It’s time.”

Auroria nodded, trying to mask her internal disappointment. “Alright, let me go get something I can smash things with.”

“Smash things?” Gale asked, brows furrowed in confusion, the lines between them becoming prominent. She loved those lines that showed up when he was deep in thought.

Auroria smiled brightly at him. “We’re going to break down the back walls of the cells. The scouts said the tower hasn’t been maintained well so it should be relatively easy as long as we can get out before they realize what we have done.” She watched a smile grow on his face. “Good plan, don’t you think?”

“An excellent plan, though I’d expect nothing less from you. Take my quarterstaff, it’s been quite the asset for me, very useful in smashing, and I would love for it to be in your capable hands,” he said, motioning to the staff that had been leaning against the bar.

“Thank you, I’ll return it in one piece when we get back, hopefully with freed prisoners and a good story to tell.” Feeling emboldened by their conversation, she kissed his cheek as she got up and picked up the staff, meeting up with Lae’zel who was already waiting on the other side of the room.

“Well, things with you and Gale seem to be going…well,” she said.

Auroria smiled. “I think so, too. Now, let’s go rescue some prisoners.”

******

Gale waited at the bar, watching the door for Ora’s return. After getting hugged no less than four times by Karlach, he sent her to hug Astarion, much to Astarion’s dismay. He heard the barstool next to him scraping as it slid back and found Wyll now sitting beside him.

“I saw you and Ora talking earlier, before she left. It looks like things are blossoming between you?” he asked, having become a confidante to Gale over these past weeks regarding Ora. Gale couldn’t believe he was ever even remotely jealous of Wyll for being someone who so easily could wear his heart on his sleeve. He very clearly loved her as well, though Wyll took time to clarify after the Bibberbang incident that it was just in a friendly manner. The two had grown close ever since, finding they were similar in many aspects, namely matters of the heart.

Gale nodded, “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting it. How could I? Cast aside from Mystra, cursed orb, locked in my tower for a year of my own volition, tadpole abduction. Who would have thought it would lead me to her?” He took a sip of wine. “Now with Moonrise Towers and Mystra’s command looming over me, I wonder if it is fair to continue on as we are. A small, hopeful part of me believes that time must not be wasted, though.”

“You know me, Gale, I am a romantic. I say go for it - don’t waste time. Love is the most powerful thing on this plane and is capable of working wonders.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll think it over. Thank you, Wyll,” he nodded as Wyll got up to go get his hourly hug from Karlach, who was proving to be quite the menace now that she wasn’t dangerous to touch.

Hours passed. He tapped his fingers on his thighs as he drank wine and read from a book he had found laying around, forgotten by someone. Attempted to read, really - he had glanced over the same four pages at least ten times. He felt the tug of Mystra’s command once again and shook his head as he contemplated the moment of the Absolute’s destruction as well as his own, closing the book and downing the rest of his wine when he heard a commotion outside. They’re back.

I love her.

He was a man possessed. He strode up to her, cutting through the Harpers, bypassing Lae’zel. He saw no one else but her. Only her. Always her.

“Gale? Are you oka-”

He put his hands on each side of her face and kissed her deeply, surrounded by cheering Harpers, and even a smiling Lae’zel, who he thought he heard say “ Tchk. Finally.” The feeling of her lips against his was everything he thought it would be - no, it was more. It was perfect. And when she closed her eyes and kissed him back? No magic in all the planes could even hope to compare.

Reality came trickling back in, slowly, then all at once. He broke the kiss and stepped back, clearing his throat. “Ah, apologies, I got caught up in all the celebrations. Congratulations on a successful mission,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ora laughed then, and handed him his quarterstaff back. “Well I suppose if that’s the reward for a successful mission, I’ll have to make sure to be successful more often.”

A Harper came up, shoving a cup of wine into their hands - everyone was in a celebratory mood, a tangible success after so much hardship and turmoil was much needed. She clinked her cup to his. “To a successful mission, a safe place to camp, and good company.” They both took a drink before she was pulled away by Karlach for a welcome back hug. They were surrounded by people and yet his eye was only drawn to her. Her bright smile and cheerful laughter were a salve in this blighted land.

He raised his cup, “To you, Ora.”

The evening passed, the celebration finally dying down after the revelry lasted well into the night. He found Ora back where their day had started, with her head on the bar, struggling to keep her eyes open. Drink and lack of sleep were most likely taking a toll on her, though at some point in the evening she did have the foresight to remove her armor.

“Ora, I don’t think you will last another minute if we don’t get you to bed,” he said, sitting next to her again. She opened one of her eyes and smiled at him from her uncomfortable resting place. Oh, she is definitely exhausted.

“You want to take me to bed, Gale?” she giggled before sitting up and leaning over to him. “I want you to take me to bed, too,” she whispered in his ear. She is exhausted and definitely drunk.

He smiled and laughed softly. “Yes, I want to take you to your tent and put you in your bedroll so you can get that full eight hours you promised me this afternoon, remember?” He took her hand as she stood up and supported her as she walked so she didn’t lose her footing in her state.

“Hmm, too much wine, not enough sleep,” she slurred, leaning against him. He tried not to think about how good she felt pressed to his side.

“Yes, exactly.”

They continued walking to their campsite, nestled at the edge of Isobel’s ward to protect from the shadow curse. He led her to her tent, settling her down onto her bedroll, sitting beside her for a moment. Just until she falls asleep, he told himself.

“There we go. Now, eight hours, no less. If anyone even thinks about waking you up early in the morning, they will have to face an angry wizard armed with a fireball and a big stick.” That got a laugh out of her as she got comfortable. He would cherish that sound until the end of his days.

“My hero.”

He moved to get up, to allow her her privacy but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Stay with me tonight?” His heart dropped. He wanted to more than anything, but not with her in this state. He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, but he also didn’t want to hurt her feelings, put any cracks in this beautiful night, this wondrous thing happening between them. He smiled and kissed the back of her hand.

“I would love nothing more, Ora, but you need to sleep, and I need to be able to guard your tent in the morning.” He moved to cover her up as she hummed in agreement, eyes already closed. He brushed a stray hair from her face and stayed beside her until her breathing deepened and she fell into a serene, restful sleep.

Back in his tent, he thought he might explode, even with the orb stabilized. He wanted to tell her everything. His feelings, his fears, his desires. He wanted to kiss her without apologies, without excuses about being swept up in the moment. He wanted to hold her in his arms while they made love under the stars. He wanted it all with her, and hoped that she wanted the same, even considering…everything.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would tell her, and he knew exactly how.

I love her.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfiction #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #woodweave #weave and woods fic #weave and woods #bg3 ao3

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lethalchiralium · 2 years ago

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You Leave Me Wounded And Bleeding | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: the long awaited 1940s simon fic!! it’s been done for a while but i just had to tweak a lot so i’m able to write the second part :)

warnings: 1940s-Immediately after the End of WWII. 3RD PERSON - Heartbreak, mourning - let me know if I missed anything!

summary: It’s September 9th, 1945, the trains are running non-stop to bring soldiers home. Wounded, alive, and dead - families wait on the platforms, desperately awaiting the arrival of their family member. Those crowds would include you - Mrs. Simon Riley, awaiting the love of your life who has been deployed as long as the war had been waged.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

Dear Simon,

I am writing to you this in case something happens. Something I cannot think about, something that can very well happen and I don’t wish to dwell upon it. These words are the only way I can express it if I am no longer able to voice them.

There was thunderous applause in the square, surrounding the gray train station. Screaming, crying, cheering - loudness that she’s never heard before in her small town. She was one to steer clear of the loud noises, to sit away from the excitement in a small cafe or bookstore in the town square. Maybe walk around the plaza, take the time to enjoy the sun.

This September day was different - much different. The always fresh air tasted stale, the bright green trees began to grow gray. Her deep blue dress swished against her shins as she struggled through the crowds of cheering women, crying children, and proud and grieving parents. She glanced around the crowd, noticing how most of the people were draped in grays and blacks - mourning colors. She looked away from them, towards a glass encased list of names.

You’ve written me almost every week during this horrible time, about every thought and moment that caused you pain. It hurts me to know that I cannot ease your agony. It pains me that I cannot be by your side, even for a fleeting moment. You have such a kind soul, Simon Riley. I can only imagine how it will all of this affect you after the war.

A kind hand gently grabbed her wrist, the woman in deep blue jumped in her skin before turning to see a familiar face. An elderly woman she had grown to know in the past few years, a woman she often visited as the elderly woman was her neighbor. Her name was Mavis, her husband had died in the first World War and her only two daughters were nurses now. Mavis knew why she had arrived at the plaza today - she was a patient woman, a gentle voice that the woman in blue desperately needed.

“Will I see you when you arrive home tonight?” Mavis inquired, her black shawl draped over her front. She looked frail in the gray dress she wore, her feet buckled in worn gray kitten heels.

The taller woman in deep blue heels shrugged. “It depends, Mavis.” It depends if I will be coming home without him.

“He will come home to you, darling.” The old woman smiled gently, still holding onto her wrist. She gave it a squeeze, the woman in blue gave Mavis a soft smile.

“I’ve been hoping he does.”

Even long after your letters have stopped arriving, no British Army soldiers have appeared upon our doorstep yet - no telegrams have graced my fingers with your name upon them. That must mean something, right? That you are safe, breathing? For the past two and a half years, I’ve waited for your return; not to mention the three years before that. The danger is gone now, Simon, and you’re not here. They’ve been arriving by the train load for the past week, and none of the lists have your name.

Mavis had let go of Mrs. Riley’s hand and let her be, let her gaze at the large white pages with printed names in black ink. She was still too far to read any names, she still pushed though the crowd - getting closer. She watched as women in white walked away sobbing, or women in black excitedly running towards the train platform.

Fear trembled in Mrs. Riley’s blood, the purse that sat in her left hand felt too heavy, the air felt suffocating as the crowd pushed her towards the board. Today was the first day she felt like this, pain in her heart and fear in her lungs. Maybe today was the day she would see his name on the board, written with the same black ink as the rest of the soldiers coming home to Manchester. She was only behind five more people before she would be at the front of the crowd, reading quickly to find his name - maybe the names of his friends too. She’s met Soap and Gaz before, it has been a long time since she’s even seen Price. Maybe the mysterious Alejandro and Rudy will appear, even though their home is across the world - All living and breathing, she hoped.

Another step forwards, closer to the board as an older gentleman and lady both turned away from the board in tears - the young woman beside them with a teenage boy laughed with excitement. They moved away, she grew closer. She could almost read the names on the papers now.

I musn’t worry, I know you will come back to me. You have a habit of keeping promises, my love - as well as secrets.

“Move it along!” The conductor shouted as he came towards the board, shooing away more people as she quickly scanned the names now that she could read them. She started with the Gs, reading quickly.

Gardner, KIA. Garrett, Garrett, Garrett, KIA…

Garrick, Kyle. Sergeant. Gaz.

She felt hope filter into chest, at least one of them made it - she moved to the Ms.

MacDonald, KIA. MacDonald…

MacTavish, John. Sergeant.

Thank God, Soap. She remembered to breathe then, hurriedly going to the Ps as she noticed that the list was much shorter than yesterday. She didn’t dare dwell on it.

Powell, KIA. Powell. Price, Price, KIA…

Price, John. Captain.

Another step forwards, two more people had gone and now she only had the elderly couple ahead of her. They had worn white as a symbol of hope, as have many of the other families awaiting their turn to read the list. She read the Rs, her heart beating out of her chest like a train engine.

I’ve heard stories from wives, whispers among the streets about some soldiers coming home and no longer being themselves. They’re hollow, lifeless - I’ve seen a few myself. It is like the undead have invaded Manchester, they walk about with no emotion in their eye, no care for their family as they walk beside them. I’ve watched them from our bookstore, watching as their small children tug on their father’s hands and he vaguely responds with a lifeless smile, sending them away from himself. Their wives do not give away any note of worry, perfect smiles and small touches to their husbands as if to comfort them in a small way. It’s not hard to recognize the wife’s pain, it’s a pain I hope I will never know.

Radley. KIA. Raines. KIA. Redgrave. Ridley. Ridley. Rigley. KIA. Rivers. KIA. Robbins. KIA.

I’m scared, Simon.

A rougher hand grabbed her arm then, she didn’t look away. She kept rereading the list. Today is the last day for arrivals, she knew that. She has known that for the past week. Where was his name? Where was Lieutenant Simon Riley?

“Mrs. Riley,” A soft voice came from the person pulling her away, she kept staring at the board as it grew smaller. She almost stumbled, tripping over herself before she turned to look at the man who knew her.

Gaz.

“Are you alright?” She asked the man in pea green, he looked bewildered. They were now just outside of the crowd, he rolled his shoulders. “You aren’t harmed?”

“Mrs. Riley, there is no need for you to worry about me.” Gaz placed a hand on the strap of his dufflebag that was across his chest, he had a concerned look on his face. “Have you seen Soap? He had gotten off of the train with me, I’ve been looking for Price-“

Her hand gently pushed Gaz backwards, away from the crowd. The soldier had let her, her hand left his arm as she led him towards a bench. She sat down, smoothing out her dress and crossing her ankles. Her dark shoes were sort of scuffed, she stared at it for a moment before looking back up at her husband’s friend. He looked upon the train station, seeing the crowd began to dissipate slowly.

“Mr. Garrick,” She whispered, hoping he would hear her just like Simon would. But he just kept watching, waiting. “Gaz.”

Gaz turned his head to look at her, his face solemn. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Please, just call me by my name.” She answered, she then patted the bench. “Sit with me.” The wind picked up then, rippling through her straightened and victory rolled hair - the common style that she hated. Her normal hair was beautiful - is what Simon would always say, gently pet it against her head. If she wished hard enough, she could feel his hand touch her cheek. She closed her eyes then, letting the wind breeze her face without the malice of a dull world.

“I haven’t-“

“Is there someone waiting for you, Mr. Garrick?”

Terrified, really. What if you do not step off that train tomorrow? What will I do if I must return home in silence, no longer in your grasp? No longer sleep without the knowledge that you’ll be coming home?

Her eyes fluttered open as the gentleman sat on the bench, a couple of feet away. He didn’t even look at her, his eyes staring at the station. “No, ma’am.”

“I see.” She answered. “You are welcome in my home, just until you’re able to get on your feet.” She looked towards the train station again, her hands sat like stone in her lap, her purse against her shoes. “The invitation is extended to Mr. MacTavish, Mr. Parra and Mr. Price as well, should you see them - even Mr. Vargas if he makes his presence known.”

“Are you leaving?” Gaz asked and the woman didn’t offer an answer, only silence as she watched families in black walk with either their loved one in their arms or a folded flag. She didn’t know what he was asking - was she leaving the plaza or was she leaving Manchester?

“I’m not sure.” She commented to the air, recounting the past week and knowing that Gaz could hear her. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had company in my home.” She patted her dress again when she changed the subject, a nervous habit. “Many of my own friends in Poland and the Netherlands have perished.” She brushed off invisible dust from her lap, smiling sadly. “I’m afraid I no longer have any friends.”

“Mrs. Riley, you’re my friend.” Gaz commented, looking at her as she still stared at the train station. “Ghost has done all of us well, told us many times that you are a person with a kind heart. I’m very glad you decided not to just ignore me earlier.” He sort of chuckled, then continued. “Look, Mrs. Riley, I haven’t seen Ghost since March. I was moved to a different unit, he was upset with me when I left. Not sure if he’d want to see me-“

“Mrs. Riley!” Came a loud Scottish boom, Gaz’s head swiveled towards the train station as she stood, she would have smiled but the information Gaz gave her sent an arrow into her heart. The Scot slid his bag across the pavement to Gaz before wrapping the woman in a tight embrace, rocking her side to side as he chirped, “Oh, lass, how I have missed you so!” He kissed her cheek, his smile as wide as the moon. “You won’t believe what they’ve fed me!”

Well, I suppose I haven’t had that knowledge since February, but it still feels crushing to say. What will I do if you return to me and you are no longer yourself? I know war must change a man but I’m not sure how I will live if I never see your smile again.

“Soap, you’ll squeeze the poor woman to death.” Gaz’s hand grabbed Soap’s shoulder and the Scot let go of her, his hands held onto her shoulders.

“How are you, bonnie? Still workin’ at that measly book store?” Soap looked like he had not slept in weeks, the poor thing.

She shrugged. “Yes.“

“Gaz, lad, how’re you?” Soap then turned away from her, almost strangling Gaz when he hugged him. Soap then began to babble on to him, while she watched the train station again, seeing how it was now becoming less crowded, yet…

There was a man with a boonie hat on, walking towards them with just a small bag. And it felt like someone had grabbed a hold of her ankle and pulled her underwater, she couldn’t scream, cry- Breathe. Just breathe.

She felt something in her heart then, but it wasn’t confirmation. No, she wouldn’t get confirmation until her fingers brushed his dog tag - the only one she would receive from the British Army would be the red one, the hardened rubber imprinted with his identification number, religion, his first initial and Riley.

“Mr. Price.” Her voice was a whisper, the gentleman raised his head to look at her.

What will I do if you do not return? Will I become like the hundreds of widowed wives, crying forever and waiting for their husband’s remains to return home? Will I be able to go to the plaza everyday, knowing that you’ve touched this place before? Will I be able to stay in our home that you’ve put sweat and blood into, just for us? I can’t think anymore of it.

“Mr. Price, please.” She walked towards him, her steps uneasy. She could feel her heart in her throat as it constricted, the air becoming sour as he came closer. The world began to lose her focus, her hands at her side. The man finally stopped, a few feet from her.

He took off his hat and held out his hand.

“Mrs. Riley.”

Her right hand trembled when she held it up, taking his hand and he shook it.

“Please.” Her request made Soap and Gaz go quiet, she placed her left hand upon Price’s. The Captain merely stared at her. “You have to know something about Simon.”

Price merely whispered your name. “You haven’t seen his name on the boards?”

All color drained from Price’s face, and Soap’s hand touched her shoulder. She looked up to Soap, his friendly excitement was now gone. “He isn’t here?”

I don’t think I could ever understand it, that I would ever want to. We’ve talked about it, but it still doesn’t make the ache in my soul any lighter. I cannot think of you anymore, it feels like my heart is playing a melancholy tune on a piano well beyond its years; playing a song I never knew it had memorized. And it’s like my fingers are stuck to the keys, dancing ever so slowly as if the crescendo in the sheet music keeps darting away. The climax of our story hasn’t even crossed the page yet; I keep playing this haunted tune and I don’t want to anymore.

“Y/N, what do you mean he’s not here?”

I want to rip my fingers from the keys and push myself away from the piano. But I only play this tune as I wait for you, only when you’re away from me. What will I do if this will be the only song I can play for the rest of my life?

Her knees went weak then, she almost collapsed if it wasn’t for Soap grabbing her, quickly placing her on the bench before kneeling in front of her. Price did the same, both men held one of her hands.

“No list has had Ghost on it? At all?” Price questioned, tears didn’t even dare reach her eyes. All she could do was stare at the train station, seeing how the train had gone - only a handful of people remained. She could count on both her hands how many people stayed behind, looking like lost souls, wandering.

Soap’s voice wavered when he spoke your name, “Lass, please answer him,” he squeezed her hand, her eyes looked to his before flickering back to Price.

She took a breath in, trying to calm herself but it was a futile attempt. “No, no.” She took another breath, shuddering. She closed her eyes and her head moved down to face her lap. “I…He has to be here, you have to know something.”

“The last time I saw the LT, shite, would’ve been the start of August. We were headin’ back from Hong Kong.” Soap muttered, his hand still firmly squeezing hers. “He was fine. He was with Alejandro, they were heading back, weren’t they?”

Price hummed in agreement. “Maybe he gave his seat up, maybe he escorted Alejandro to London. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” The Captain looked to Soap. “Go check the boards again, maybe they’ve put up the MIA list.”

Soap gave her hand another squeeze before he leapt to his feet, speed walking towards the station while Gaz took his place; Gaz’s hand had a softer grip, much more comforting.

“Mrs. Riley, it will be okay.” Gaz’s voice was soft now, Price was looking over his shoulder. “He’ll be here.”

My mother sent for me. This morning, actually. I was sitting in the study, going through the mail. My father is dying back home in America, and I must go. But I feel that I cannot leave here without knowing. I cannot leave our home without knowing if I get to kiss you or kiss the stone that will lay above your head.

“We should take her home,” Gaz commented to Price, she couldn’t even feel her hands then, her husband’s friends holding her hands tightly. “She needs to go home, Price.”

“Wait.” Price murmured, still watching Soap. She didn’t dare look now, her gaze moved away and to the right. The trees danced with the gentle breeze, leaves twisting and turning on their branches. The lights of the cafe had now burned out, the post office dim too - it seemed everyone had decided to abandon their work today. It made sense.

All she wanted to do now was sit in the bookstore, reading one of those romance books that Simon finds silly in the little reading nook she loved. He’d tell her that reading about romance is not the way to find someone, that all of the romance she’d need would come from him. What a way to woo a woman, she had said. He had smiled.

I’ve wondered what it would be like for you if I leave for America this very moment. You place your key into the lock, twisting it and opening up the front door. The house would be dark, no warmth from the fireplace, nothing to signal that I would be home. Maybe you would think I abandoned you, maybe you would think I had perished. But, I know you. There will be no need to worry, Simon.

“Soap,” Price called, her eyes didn’t move from the bookstore, its lights still on and bright. It was almost like she could see Simon sitting on the window seat across from her, reading A Farewell To Arms by Ernest Hemingway while she read Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell - stealing glances from each other often. They were young then, he was 21 while she was 18, almost 19.

It was their first date. Sitting in the bookstore, stealing glances and being near each other. He had asked her what she was doing here in Manchester, noticing her American accent. She said, “I’m visiting my friends, I’m staying with an aunt.”

Simon sat up, closing his book before looking at her. “And you’re sat here, in a bookstore?”

“You have a much different and bigger selection than home,” She answered, a smile danced on her lips. “But I still love reading my favorite book.” She closed her own book, swinging her legs over the side of the bench, letting her shoes touch the ground. “Say, do you know any good romance books?”

That was the first time she had heard him truly laugh.

I’ve waited so long for you. So long for our life to grow, to spend more than a fleeting moment behind a bookshelf like we did when we were young. I’ve sat in every room of our home, praying and wishing for your safe return. I’ve hoped and wished so hard that I feel that the universe no longer hears me. Oh Simon, I’ve waited centuries in the collective almost six years you have been gone from my side. I’m not sure if I can wait any longer.

She didn’t even hear Soap’s answer. She didn’t even care that Price had pulled her to her feet, asking Soap where she lived. She mindlessly walked beside the soldiers, her ears began to ring.

The sky was gray, whistles of rain fell from it and kissed their heads. She would have normally been walking faster to avoid the rain, her hair taking almost an hour to put up but it felt like her soul had fell free from her chest. It was thrown away on the side of the street, discarded until she decides to find it again.

She was sure she wouldn’t.

The breeze felt bitter now, it was no longer her friend that ebbed by through her hair. It was a dangerous being, whispering in her ear taunts of loneliness, even though her friends walked beside her. Her arms were around both Gaz and Price’s, her hands gently rested on their forearms as they continued through the Manchester streets.

The ring felt heavy now. It felt like someone was pulling on her hand, trying to tear her ring off of her skin; like something was trying to burn it off. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t take it off. It was the only part she had connected to him.

When they finally arrived at her home, she blinked. She refocused her eyes, staring at the black door that seemed to mock her now. Soap fished the key from her purse, opening it - the soldiers pulled her into the house, her dark shoes scraped against the floor, scuffing them. They walked into the living room, gently settling her onto her couch. Their arms left her then, all of the soldiers kneeled before her.

And all she could do was blink, feeling tears burn her cheeks. And none of the men there dared to touch her now, Price’s eyes stayed on hers as Gaz and Soap looked at each other.

“Did you hear him?” Price’s voice was much softer than it was before, kinder - patient. “Did you hear John?”

She shook her head, letting the razor sharp tears slice down her face.

Price held out his hands, to which both of hers settled in. He clutched them gently, as if she was made of porcelain.

“Simon Riley is missing in action.”

I will love you forever. Even if you have left this precious Earth, even if your feet still tread upon it. But I can’t wait for a ghost when I have been waiting for my husband almost our entire marriage. My father is stable enough, they believe. He has two months to live. And because I love you, Simon, I will wait exactly one month after the last train arrives in Manchester with a list of soldiers.

Her tears fell against her dress, louder than anything else in the room. Her hands shook in front of her, she clenched them before she looked up at her husband’s friends.

And if you arrive when I have gone, I am sorry. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back to our home empty handed, even if you are there - because you always leave. You always leave and I have always needed you, Simon. Always. You have hurt me in unimaginable ways, my love, even if you always find your way back home to me. So, just this once - I will be the one leaving. I can’t come back. I won’t come back. I won’t come back to a house that is no longer ours. I will not come back to a house that is just mine.

“Please don’t let me be alone.”

I love you, Simon Riley. Don’t ever forget it.

Forever yours,

Y/N.

—

𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡! 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢!

———

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x afab!reader #lieutenant simon riley #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick

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campfireofdreams · 10 months ago

Text

griffguts playlist

A list of some of my favorite songs that remind me of guts & griffith:

Even Thought Our Love Is Doomed - Garbage

And even though our love is cruel And even though our stars are crossed You're the only thing worth fighting for You're the only thing worth dying for

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

The stars, the moon They have all been blown out You've left me in the dark No dawn, no day I'm always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

I Have Questions - Camila Cabello

I gave you all of me My blood, my sweat, my heart, and my tears Why don't you care, why don't you care? I was there, I was there, when no one was Now you're gone and I'm here

[here's a beautiful edit with this song]

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violent A revelation in the light of day You can't choose what stays and what fades away And I'd do anything to make you stay

[another edit]

I Just Wanna Know - NF

I just wanna know When did you get so cold What happened to your soul Don't you see me I thought that we were close But now that door is closed When did we lose control Guess you don't need me

[amazing edit with this song]

Only You - Little Mix, Cheat Codes

Once upon a time, we had it all Somewhere down the line, we went and lost it One brick at a time, we watched it fall I'm broken here tonight and, darling, no one else can fix me Only you

[I really love this edit]

The Enemy - Andrew Belle

Don't try to follow me I would hold you down if I could Make you the enemy I would let you down

Haunted - Taylor Swift

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong You're all I wanted Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

Wait - NF

Wait, wait, wait Don't leave me

I'm holding on to pieces of us That I just can't let go I know this is a desperate kind of love But it feels like it's home

I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace

I hate everything about you Why do I love you?

Moondust - Jaymes Young

And there's nothing that I can do Except bury my love for you

In My Veins - Andrew Belle

Oh you're in my veins And I cannot get you out Oh you're all I taste At night inside of my mouth Oh you run away 'Cause I am not what you found Oh you're in my veins And I cannot get you out

Hurts Like Hell - Fleurie, Tommee Profitt

I loved and I loved and I lost you And it hurts like hell

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you

my tears ricochet - Taylor Swift

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

Bonus:

This silly edit I made with Gotta Go My Own Way from HSM lol

Also recently added Hoax by Taylor Swift to the playlist thanks to @paint-it-dead who recommended this song to me. Here's the post I was talking about! I hope you and everyone else enjoys this playlist 🤗

#griffguts #griffguts playlist

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thephantomessoftheopera · 10 months ago

Note

I tried to find an answer on this but I couldn’t find it. Do you know why Christine said that she gave Erik her soul and now she is dead? Why did she say it and what does it mean?

Hello and sorry for taking so long to answer! This is a very interesting ask. Let‘s have a look at the scene first where she says so. The dialogue takes place in chapter 2, where Raoul overhears it while eavesdropping outside Christine‘s dressing room:

The man‘s voice spoke again: „You must be tired.“ „Oh yes! Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead.“ „Your soul is very beautiful, my child,“ said the man‘s deep voice, „and I thank you. No emperor ever received such a gift! The angels wept tonight.“

After her gala performance, Christine was so weak that she had to be carried of the stage. She gave everything in that performance, and the „I‘m dead“ means that she is, literally, completely and utterly exhausted — both mentally and physically.

The „I gave you my soul“ expresses how much of her heart she put into the performance — and she did so for Erik, who is still the „Angel“ to her at this point. As the critic wrote, „he had to assume that she had just fallen in love for the first time“.

When Erik taught Christine to sing, it was not just about perfecting her technique. It was more about unlocking her soul, her passion that lay buried beneath all the grief over her father‘s death. During the gala night, Christine was able to channel all those emotions into her singing, and she did so for Erik. In the French text, she says „ce soir, je vous ai donné mon âme“, and what I find interesting is that this phrase is implicitely mirrored by Erik later. In „At the Masked Ball“, Erik sings „Nuit d‘Hyménée“, the wedding night song from „Roméo et Juliette“ when coming for Christine, and one of the lines is „Je t‘ai donné mon âme“…

(If you haven‘t listened to it yet, DO IT! It‘s a lovely song, and this one comes with subtitles: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_X8LsHwJXfA)

#phantom of the opera #asks #gaston leroux #leroux phantom #le fantôme de l'opéra #erik x christine

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berryless · 27 days ago

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Sunday Mass BGM

Sunday (Honkai Star Rail) Fan SoundTrack

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Jann — Emperor's New Clothes

Bow and smile And nod your head Approve, applaud Agree, don't ever Question the decisions of The high almighty God society

You'll be as a martyr to me Dying for the crowd that you lead Pedestal for you to believe You're the only king

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Regina Spektor — Two Birds

Two birds of a feather Say that they're always gonna stay together But one's never going to let go of that wire (oh-oh-oh) He says that he will But he's just a liar

Two birds on a wire One tries to fly away and the other Watches him close from that wire He says he wants to as well, but he is a liar

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Mitski — Abbey

I am something I have been something I was born something What could I be?

There is a light that I can see But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me There is a dream that I sometimes see That only appears in the dark of sleep

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IAMX — The Stupid, The Proud

God is dead, We get to sleep tonight, Walk with me into the truth, Out of your lies

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Jaymes Young — I'll Be Good

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the times that I never could

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Mother Mother — Oh Ana

I'll be God I'll be God, I'll be God, I'll be God today Hold my head under the bath and breathe away Slit my wrists and watch that blood evaporate

I'll fake God I'll fake God, I'll fake God, I'll fake God today Hop up on a cloud and watch the world decay

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Eddie Vedder — Long Nights

Long nights allow me to feel... I'm falling...I am falling The lights go out Let me feel I'm falling I am falling safely to the ground Ah...

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Porter Robinson — Goodbye To A World

Thank you, I'll say goodbye soon Though its the end of the world Don't blame yourself now And if its true I will surround you and give life to a world That's our own

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The Choir, James Whitbourn — The Lamb

Little lamb who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life and bid thee feed By the stream and o'er the mead? Gave thee clothing of delight Softest clothing wooly bright? Gave thee such a tender voice Making all the vales rejoice! Little Lamb who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?

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Claire Boyer — Kitchen Fan Lullaby (Raw)

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Eurielle — City of the Dead

I'm scared of what's inside my head, what's inside my soul I feel like I'm running but getting nowhere Fear is suffocating me, I can't breathe I feel like I'm drowning, I'm sinking deeper

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half·alive — creature

I am creation both haunted and holy, made in glory Even the depths of the night cannot blind me, when You guide me Creature only

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Isak Danielson — Silence

It's hard to look It takes a lot of courage to see But open your eyes You'll be standing next to me Forget the words, they don't know what they're saying To save us all, it takes a lot of praying We have to Speak into the silence We never wanted violence We have to stay, unite No one left outside For us to overcome the things that we have done I want to see the change before I die and lose my voice

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

Phildel — Icarus

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·��·♫¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

Two Feet — Play The Part

An intermission of your fate Close your eyes, god gives, or takes it away You try and forget all your hate Anger thrives, trapped in a steel crate

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Thomas Newman — Any Other Name

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Anson Seabra — Trying My Best

I know you think I got it all figured out 'Cause I walk around like my head's in the clouds But I'm just a boy with his heart pourin' out of his head I wish that you could see the pain that I've seen All of the times I spent being not me I hope you know that it's not always happy in my head

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Kalandra — Brave New World

Close your eyes and sleep Ignore all the burdens that you keep Come whatever may They could never harm you anyway Waking from the dream Witnessing the smoke that's rolling in The end is what you fear The scent of embers lingers in the air It's like a web there is no escape from It's got you trapped, and you long for freedom Every wish, every dream was granted Never knowing what they demanded

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

Liana Flores — rises the moon

Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end Sun digs its heels to taunt you But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same Rises the moon Oh-oh, close your weary eyes I promise you that soon the autumn comes To darken fading summer skies Breathe, breathe, breathe

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Кристина Дзейтова — Грёза*

*the title translates as daydream, reverie, etc

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Dругой Ветер — Сны про бесконечность

Сны про бесконечность. Это сны про бесконечность. Там, где дни вписаны в вечность Пролегла полоса. Пульс на мониторах Бьётся секундам вторя. Я - твой космос. Ты - моё море. Так поднимай паруса. Ты меня не спасёшь. Я тебя не уберегу. Словно выброшенными на берег китами, Нас найдут поутру, прибитыми к берегу. Нас найдут поутру с зашитыми ртами.

Rough translation

Dreams about infinity. These are dreams about infinity. Where days are written in eternity There's a line. The pulse on the monitors Rhymes its beats with seconds. I am your space. You're my sea. So hoist the sails. You can't save me. I won't save you. Like whales stranded on a beach, They'll find us in the morning, nailed to the shore. They'll find us in the morning with our mouths sewn shut.

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Radiohead — No surprises

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government They don't, they don't speak for us

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Searows — House Song

Sound it out to an empty house Was it just like you had before? Savior pulled from an open mouth Did you want to be something more? Something is rotten inside of me I have to find it and cut it out, cut it out

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bo en — My Time

おやすみおやすみ Close your eyes and you'll leave this dream おやすみおやすみ I know that it's hard to do

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Kendrick Lamar — United In Grief (Intro)

I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime Tell them, tell 'em, tell them the truth I hope you find some paradise (tell them, tell 'em the truth) Tell 'em, tell 'em, tell 'em, tell them your- I've been goin' through somethin' One thousand, eight hundred and 55 days I've been goin' through somethin' Be afraid

#honkai star rail #hsr #sunday #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #fan soundtrack #fst #posting this before new content crushes my established headcanons about him lol #2.7 can't come too soon #was going for tortured and haunted and doomed and holy and hopeful vibes with this one #happy listening!#(shamelessly plugging-in that i also write sunday x oc fanfiction on this blog)#(or my ao3 whichever works for you)#(okay byyyyye)#fanmix

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diacripticcomplex · 11 months ago

Note

You could make a Laito x Yui smutfic

But laito yandere please

Laito’s POV:

The tub was filled up with her blood practically, everytime the fresh cuts would touch the water and infuse together her flesh would turn white, I licked the razor blade after each and every cut I gave her. My precious little bitch was so beautiful, and tonight she radiated. Her pain, the sorrow and despair in her eyes, ah I was getting more aroused. "I love you so much" I tell her and kiss her tender cheeks, taking a little nibble out of them. "You love me too right~?" I knew she wouldn't give me an answer, her modest tendencies always get the best of her, it did not matter of the situation we were currently in. Her cut up thighs and breasts were all exposed out, she was fully naked as well, all wet and nice the way I love it. Her silence was becoming strange to me, not even a whimper coming out of my little bitch, perhaps I have indulged too much? Did she pass out? I smack her cheeks. "Hey Little Bitch, come on, wake up for me, we're not even close to finished yet~" I purred into her neck, kissing it gingerly. She wasn't waking up. The water was freezing and so was she. Did her heart freeze as well? Is that why she is so cold to me? I strike her face, no reaction, not even a whimper.

"Looks like you've died, my precious little bitch, it's alright I'll keep your body as a decoration like the messiah you worship" I grinned at my own statement, yes it was a malicious idea and insult to her messiah and God, this will damn her soul for sure. I quickly found thick long steel nails, I'm never surprised that we have such things in the manor. I sprung her up and hammered in the nails, I added more insult to this by hanging her upside down, signifying the work of the demon I truly am. It was wonderful, this is how she should be remembered not in some casket buried in the ground or ashes, she was truly a sinful bitch, I wish Ayato and Kanato would have helped me do this to our mother, too bad Kanato took matters into his own hands. Oh well if I could do it over, it would be like this.

Ah the smell of her decaying corpse was utterly satisfying. My little bitch always smells delightful but right now it was a rather intoxicating smell, I inhaled and exhaled this scent to the point I felt light headed. Aha she really is so evil, dying on me like that how dare she? I'm getting turned on thinking of ways I would have killed her, I looked at her corpse hanging upside down. I placed my hand on my crotch, stroking the print forming, the screams she would’ve made as I killed her slowly would have been wonderful to experience I can imagine them, it’s as clear as a movie in my mind, I begin to further touch myself, stroking my hardened member, thinking about her while doing this and looking at her corpse, was doing it for me, my stupid little bitch is dead, I wasn’t able to take her soul but this body…this body will be mine forever. I release myself all over her face, the cum drips down from her chin to her forehead and some got into her hair. Ah she truly is a vision of beauty, my poor little bitch.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik boys #dialovers #yui komori #diabolik brothers #diahell #yui x laito #light smut #gore #trigger warning #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers community #diabolik lovers laito #laito x yui #death #dead dove fic #caution

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expecto-kedavra · 1 year ago

Note

Hi i love your MC's man bun lolol

but i was wondering if i could request a male mc ravenclaw piece where he is trying to work through trauma caused from ranrok? also could you use me/i perspective cause i've never seen that written for HL on here

the longer the better!

First off, thank you! Second, this was a great first ask as I myself am a male Ravenclaw/Slytherin who has dealt with trauma ✌️I HOPE ITS NOT TOO LONG 😂

RAVENCLAW M!MC DEALING WITH THE AFTER EFFECTS OF RANROK

!Warning! - insomnia, nightmares, grieving over death, loved ones dying, PTSD.

4,257. That's how many stars were on my Ravenclaw dormitory ceiling. I had long memorized the constellations before all of this, and I quite wished I hadn't. It would be another wonderful way to pass the time. I sat up on my bunk, and let out a large, dramatic exhale. I looked down at Amit, and chuckled as I saw him drooling into his pillow. It was a wonder that he was able to sleep with the dragon that was Everett snoring in the bunk on the other side of the room. I always managed before, but not now. Not anymore. I usually don't dream, and if I did it was something ridiculous like Sebastian turning into a Runespoor. It started the night of Ranrok. The night he attacked Hogwarts. The night Professor Fig...left.

It had been six months since the events underneath the school. Six months since the nightmares began. The first time it happened, I thought I was awake. I was in Hogsmeade, but it was...different. There was a low fog covering everything. From out of it walked Victor Rookwood. "Impossible. You're dead!" I screamed at him. He let out a low, cruel chuckle. "Arrogant child. Thinking death is the end." He grabbed my shoulder and we disappeared into a writhing black mess of flames. I dropped onto the floor of the Final Repository, right in front of the demonic dragon that was Ranrok. I barely could stand before I was incinerated by a massive black wave of heat, death and pain. Then I woke up. They all started like this, for the first week or so. Then they got worse. I could handle those ones. I couldn't handle the ones that came after. The ones with my friends. At first it was Professor Fig, and I had hope. I thought he would save me, just as he had so many times before. I was foolish to think that. Ranrok eviscerated him. I was left to grieve again, crying over his body as the ghostly forms of Rookwood and Ranrok cackled over me, telling me how I will always fail. Of course it got worse after that. It was no longer Fig, but my friends. Sebastian, Ominis, Amit, Poppy, Samantha...all dying horrible and painful deaths, while the ghosts of my enemies laughed at my failure to protect them. It was easier to just stay awake. Brewed several wakefullness potions in the room every day, so it wasn't hard to keep myself up. It was dreadfully boring though.

Eventually the morning caught up with my thoughts and it was luckily time to head to class. Classes were easy. Like Fig always said, I had an affinity for magic, which meant I seemed to absorb everything and didn't have much struggle with anything. Unfortunately, I seemed to always drift off into my own thoughts, which would always lead me back to Fig. How he gave his all, literally to his death, to help me seal the repository. I hadn't been down there since. As soon I decided to pay a visit tonight, Professor Hecat called on me. "And MC, could you tell us the difference between a Lethifold and a Dementor?" She looked at me with that knowing look she always had, like she was fully aware of everything I was thinking. "A Lethifold is classified as a Beast, and eats its victims, whereas a Dementor is a non-being and sucks out the soul of its prey." I effortlessly answered. "Correct, and how do we repel them both should they cross our path?" She knew that I knew this. Why did she ask? "A patronus charm." I'd never cast a patronus before. Quite frankly I'm unsure if I'd be able to. "Correct again. Points to Ravenclaw." she beamed. "We must remember that happiness is subjective, and often finds itself accompanied by other emotions, even sadness." Again she looked deeply at me, almost studying my very thoughts. "That is all for today, class dismissed!" I couldn't help but feel her piercing eyes follow me out of class.

"MC!" I heard from behind me. It was Samantha Dale, one of my closest friends. "Hey, Sammy. How are you?' I asked. "Doing well, thank you. I was wondering if you'd join me in the gardens? I'd like to ask you something about..uh...nature." she seemed to stumble over the last mouthful. "Oh, sure. I'd think you wouldn't need any assistance in that area, you're an expert." Something seemed a bit out of place, but I didn't press for more. Turns out she needed help identifying a beehive, and if Glumbumbles had infested it. They hadn't. Once we had concluded, I turned to head out of the gardens and on to Charms. I was called back by Samantha. "You are stronger than you know." she said. That was what Fig said before I summoned everything within me to seal the repository. Why did she say that? I abruptly turned, confused. "Thank you." I managed to get out. The thought barraged my brain...why did she say that?

The rest of the day was uneventful. I visited Hogsmeade with Natty, and helped Poppy with some Kneazle trouble. Darkness fell, and after I was certain everyone was asleep, I headed down to the Map Chamber with the assistance of a disillusionment charm. When I reached the large sleeping dragon statue, I was startled to see someone there. Professor Hecat. "Welcome." she said. I removed my charm. No doubt her years as an Unspeakable had fine tuned her senses. It was useless to try and pass. "Lovely night, isn't it?" she said, rather gently. "If one can avoid Peeves and his flaming pins, I'd say so." I replied. She laughed. "Yes, well I suspect you have something and someone to attend to. I'll leave you to it." This lady will always astound and confuse me. "I suppose so, Professor." I responded, trying to keep the confusion out of my voice. Who was she talking about? The portraits? She was there for the battle of the repository, so I knew that she had met the Keepers. I picked my brain as to any other hidden meanings she may have been trying to allude to as I made my way down the spiraling stone stairs. I decided she must have meant the Keepers and they must have some new knowledge or task for me. I was wrong.

Once I entered the Map Chamber, I was greeted by four very empty portraits. "Strange." I muttered to myself. I pushed Professor Hecat's cryptic words to the back of my head and meandered down to the repository. Sealed, blue and glowing, as it should be. I could feel the power emanating from it. So much pain. literally, went into it. So much loss...and luckily, so much more prevented. I shuddered at the thought of Ranrok gaining that power. It would be my nightmares come to life. Right as I sat in front of it, a warm, familiar voice rang through the cold air.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" I turned with a start, wand drawn. Once I saw who was speaking to me, it clattered to the floor. "Professor Fig?" I croaked. His pale ghostly form stood just a few feet in front of me. Well, hovered, not stood. "Yes, my young friend." I apologize I didn't present myself to you sooner, but I wanted to speak to you here. I enlisted the help of some friends to get you here." His voice was just as comforting as I remembered. Suddenly, Samantha and Professor Hecat's words all made sense. "I'm sorry, Professor." I tried to force down the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." I fell to the ground, and six months of emotions poured out of my eyes. I felt him kneel beside me. Even as a ghost, he felt warm. "Do not burden yourself with this shame my friend. It is not your fault." His tone was reassuring. "But if I did more, if I tried harder.." I choked through sobs. "Maybe you'd still be here." I looked at him, and saw him smile. "My dear, young friend. You are stronger than you know. You saved so many souls. Do you know why some of us become ghosts?" He mused. I gathered myself. "Yes, when we have unfinished things that our souls cling to after death. Like that poor chap who has to run away from his wife, the one with the ax." I couldn't help but chuckle. "Precisely, and do you know why it is that I am here before you?" He asked, in that very professor-ly tone. "I can't say I do sir." He responded before I could even get the words out. "You, my dear MC." he said lovingly. "Me?" I sniffed. "Yes." he chuckled. "I never told you how much you meant to me. I had may students over many years. None like you." "What none of them could wield an ancient and powerful magic?" I joked. "Of course not, but that's not what I mean. You were more than just a student to me. You were my friend, and my adventure companion. You constantly were impressing me, not only with your magical abilities, but your kindness, cleverness, and incredible sense of love for the world." He stopped abruptly, as though he was swallowing his own lump in his throat. "Miriam's death left me devastated and alone. This pain I shoved deep down, but it still seemed to leave me a tad bitter. Once you came along, however, I found myself laughing and smiling once again. Miriam truly would have loved you, my friend. As I did." I looked at his face, and saw tears streaming down his cheeks. "If I may, you were a son to me. And I am beyond proud of you. You will change the world." As soon as he ended his sentence, a brilliant yellow light filled the room. I shielded my eyes, and saw a figure emerging out of the brilliant golden aura. A short, older witch with a straw hat and half-moon glasses. She had an infectious smile and the kindest eyes I'd ever seen. Miriam. I saw Professor Fig rise to meet her, and take her hand. "I have said what I needed to say. Good luck, my young, capable friend." with that, he turned and entered the light, hand in hand with his beloved. "Now I shall rest." The light faded. I laughed to myself, and wiped the dried tears from my cheeks. "Yeah, me too Professor." and rest I did. The best sleep I'd had in a very long time.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy oc #professor fig #x reader #y/n #male mc #wizarding world #ravenclaw #gryffindor #hufflepuff #slytherin #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #harry potter universe

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aroturier · 1 year ago

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Sebastian: Evil or Not?

I am having trouble with Tumblr tonight I wanted to repost a little discussion between @bapydemonprincess @warmmilk-n-honey and @cangrellesteponme's Tumblr blogs but it's not letting me do both so here's my thoughts w/o the texts that inspired it.

For context I'll say that the princess started it by posting (and I can't say I entirely disagree) the following:

"People now in the end of 2022 on this platform in the kuro fandom: Sebastian Michaelis is the bad guy. The worst, the most evil, unshippable character. "

Then the others gave their ideas and in the end I wanted to add a couple thoughts, to wit:

I am one who enjoys the butler and sees enough character development to keep me interested —though I do know what you meant @bapydemonprincess— I'd just like to add and suggest that perhaps this would be a better way to interpret Sebastian and his 'evil'.

So is he? Evil, I mean. Is he really?

Isn't he more like an intelligent, very hungry tiger who just happens to walk on two legs and to whom you can speak? By that I mean to ask you, do you call all meat-eating creatures evil because they must violently kill cute little furry things in order to stay alive? Don't we normally view wolves, big cats, badgers, bears, fluffy fishers, hyenas and such as frightening, yes, but also noble and elegant, and find their prowess in hunting rather thrilling and beautiful to watch?

When you see such documentaries who do you root for, the lion or the antelope? (well I was practically raised by cats so my answer'll be obvious.)

Or do you perhaps feel more like medieval people once did, that wild beasts and domestic any who kill humans deserve to be hauled into court, tried and ultimately publicly executed, hung until dead for having the audacity to kill a human being?(There is an argument to be made for that, but this is neither the time nor the place.)

Isn't it rather foolish and ultimately a waste of time to fight against realty? Against your own inborn nature, against what you are made to be?

Could your housecat really swear off meat and join PETA?

You know she wouldn't want to even if she could. She loves being a cat and catching mice is the best kind of fun... and I'm certain that represents Sebastian's opinion on the matter as well.

Reality in Ciel and Sebastian's world is demons must devour human souls to live. It is the price Sebastian pays to continue to live. He even goes about it in a quite honorable manner (well. MOST of the time. It’s hard to resist being a little ‘slippery’ when you can run rings around the other person’s intellect isn’t it.) And since when is it evil to do and be exactly what you were born/made/whatever to do and be? It would hardly be fair to ask him to adopt a human view of right and wrong, would it? Just like us he cannot rail against his nature any more than we can throw a fit and insist we can live without drinking water. Be dead in three days if we tried that nonsense wouldn't we?!

Dunno what would happen to Sebastian if he tried going 'vegetarian,' but I'll bet he has no interest whatever in finding out!

I don't feel like I can condemn him for following his very natural desire to continue to live. We all want that. Thus, the lion must eat the cute little antelope. We don't call ‘the king of beast’ evil for that, do we -- well, I hope we don't. Antelope's quite tasty after all !

Of course, I'm certain it all seems very evil to that particular antelope caught bleating beneath his claws right now (!!!) The whole subject seems quite subjective when you think about it like this, doesn't it?

#kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #kuroshitsuji/black butler #catscatscats #roturier

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runawaychar · 5 months ago

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Her Secret Sorrow

The Ghostly Ferryman was far more than he appeared. The spirit of Erasmus, Tethra's storyteller, had been bound to the task of patrolling Kazareth's shores. The centuries have not been kind to him - he has no memory of the past. Still, it appears we've gained a new ghostly companion.

We arrived in the decaying city of Kazareth to find it alive and unchanged, populated by the pale, emaciated shadows of the Spring Court, forbidden from the relief of death by divine decree. After fighting past skeletal soldiers animated by thorns, we found the third tome in the clutches of the red priest in the High Cathedral. He was a bloodsucking insect in the guise of a holy man, fattened from his flock of supplicants. Where is the lady of the high tower? Where is the Queen-Under Thorn?

Archive:

Book I: Queen-Under-Thorn

Book II: Blight and Salvation

--Book III: Her Secret Sorrow--

Erasmus's Dialogues, Part III

We followed the Queen-Under-Thorn Through scarlet streets of Kazareth. We headed down Cathedral Road: There was to be a funeral. She spoke to me unbidden words, Her voice was cracked and wavering. "I ask you now to understand, A time without a church to Me. In order to provide our souls, As sustenance to those below, We stole the task from silent gods, and took their roles reluctantly. I am an ever-flowing font, But only if there's faith in Me. I've lost so many precious things, Reshaping our society." I spoke, protesting, - "Lady fair, You cannot blame yourself for this." She stared me down with hardened eyes. "All I've done may be a crime - I never claimed to be divine. I rose an army from our dead To guard us from the Kephra threat. My Ironguard will stand eternal, the ghosts of all I could not save. I built a Clergy, built a Throne, I've watched My people die for naught. I twisted fate to save the court, I wish "blame" still applied to Me." Ahead we saw smoke from the pyre, where ash from Tethra's children burn. The beautiful ascended few, the Flowers of sweet Kazareth: They're taken when they're very young, Adopted by our Queen and loved. Through them Her love flows down to us, Sustaining Tethra's paradise. They never live for very long, They burn brightly, and then they're gone. Tethra turned to our companion, One doomed to fall in this same way. First of Four, Queen-Under-Thorn, Knelt down before Her own daughter. She smiled at sweet Euriphone, While hiding sadness none could see. She loves Her child - She loves us all, But none can save Her autumn rose. She paid a price that I can't bear - She gave up peace to save the Spring. -E

My mind is reeling - is this how Vibrancy's children survived the calamity? A paradise sustained by sacrifice, kings and queens elevated to godhood in the silence that followed? For once the cleric does not attempt to destroy the words of the Spring Court - the name of Euriphone, Savior of Autumn stays her hand.

How much can we trust these books, written by the pet storyteller of the Beautiful Ones? The ghost of the writer has no recollection, and the lady of Kazareth is absent, her servants turned into monsters - our answers lie with Her.

We descend into the palace tonight.

#my writing #moonfall campaign #kazareth #ttrpg art #poetry #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #faerie

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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Donna’s Wednesday Radio Show Prompt List #19

It’s that time again! The Wednesday Radio prompt list!

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

I wasn't looking for someone that night

If I was dying on my knees You would be the one to rescue me

Look who's digging their own grave

Don't come back knockin' at my door

That you could fall in love with the first sight

Do you expect me to believe that you've changed?

We loved and got lost in the moment

She's gone in the flash of a light

We took a polaroid, I put it in my wallet

I'll be the one to keep you warm and safe

When you're under fire I will cover you

we'll go deeper than the ink Beneath the skin of our tattoos

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

It's like a knife that cuts right to my soul

I was drunk and it didn't mean a thing

Just another morning With shaky hands, pounding head

I love the things you hate about yourself

Oh, if the sky comes falling down, For you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

I guess I just lost my husband I don't know where he went

Five years, twenty years, come back It will always be the same

Don't touch the sleeping pills, they mess with my head

Try to leave, but I can't stand Start to think that I'm better off dead

We smoked cigarettes, man, no regrets

it's been a long night and the mirror's tellin' me to go home

You try to tell me that we're so deep in love Well, if we were, then why did we fuck it up?

I wanna get in trouble, My ex will start a fight

A thousand people at the station And in a second you slipped out of view

Out on the front doorstep, drinking from a paper cup

Told myself, "I can't go back ever again"

How can I trust you after what I've been through?

Thrashing the covers off

It's dangerous, the things we do

you'll drink yourself to death

It scares me half to death

I'm alright, I'm just fine

the tip of the needle Is taking over you

She got her hair pulled back 'cause the sweat's drippin' off of her face

We've taken different paths And travelled different roads, I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old

You leave because you're certain Of who you want to be

Begging for another beautiful sin

it ain't so bad if I wanna make a couple mistakes

I gave you life, I gave my all, You weren't there, You let me fall

Don't tell me to be strong

lotta years went by with my hands tied up in your ropes

My life started the day I got caught Under the covers With secondhand lovers

Temptation, creeping up on me Gets under my skin, won't let me be

Your kisses burn into my skin

I tell myself I don't care that much But I feel like I die 'til I feel your touch

I tell myself you don't mean a thing

I got a brand new attitude And I'm gonna wear it tonight

Your kiss is my addiction

Told you before that love isn't enough

But it's the sweetest pain Burnin' hot through my veins

Are you worth the risk?

It might be criminal, but still I just can't quit

I don't need to be loved by you

See my lips on her mouth, everybody's talking now,

And you miss 'em like you miss no other

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i-am-the-doctor · 11 months ago

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Red Tides A Rollin CHAPTER 4 (TW: Surgery, corpse, implied gore

Malenkov looked at the two men in front of him with interest, his flourescent-white eyes emitting a glow against his sclera, his thin mouth curving into an ominous grin.

“I suppose you two gentlemen wouldn’t know why I am here, no?” he uttered, bowing until he was face to face with Fredrick, his steely gaze peering into the very depths of his soul. Fredrick could feel his heart pounding inside his chest as he locked eyes with this thing that should not be, the man he brought back with his own hand. He knew that if he were to run, that he would either be met with certain death, or worse. He could only respond to the man’s question.

“H-Hello, Mr. Malenkov… You’re in what's left of the Baton Rouge Federal laboratory.. And for why you are here? Well, you were found dead outside of the Carnagie Funeral Home in New Gonzales, and you were brought back to be a subject for an experiment that would test whether or not a dead man can be brought back. Obviously, it was a success.” He stuttered, trying his best to not look further into the man’s soulless stare.

“...Hm, I suppose that would explain these stitches on my body, wouldn’t it? And these little metal joints in my hands and wrists?” Malenkov droned as he looked down at himself, once again feeling at the incisions that were being held together by sutures and stitching. “You two wouldn’t mind telling me your names, would you?” he asked while stretching his arms and back, his eyes still locked onto the two men.

“Oh, yes, of course, My name is Doctor Fredrick Dell Johanneson, and this is my best friend and assistand, Dotor Jonathan Min.”

“Ahh, the names suit you both quite well. Now, I must ask you to give me my clothes. It’s cold.”

“Oh, of course!” Fredrick squeaked as he grabbed Ivan’s clothes, which were folded neatly upon a table, promptly handing them to Ivan. Ivan grinned and nodded at him before he unfolded his clothes, putting on each piece one by one. His pants, his boots, his white collared dress shirt and black tie, and finally his uniform coat. The newly resurrected man then stood up, and towered above Fredrick and Jonathan. Combined together, his unifrom attire was quite reminiscent of a different era. The soviet era, perhaps? How could this man who was a general in the 2020s get his hands on a soviet uniform when the soviet union collapsed in the 90’s? Fredrick could only assume that the russians had run out of uniforms and made do with what they had, or that Ivan had made it himself.

“Would you l-like a tour of the lab, M-Mr. Malenk-” Jonathan began to offer before being interrupted by Ivan.

“Please, Dr. Min, Call me Ivan. No need to be so formal with me.” Ivan chuckled while looking down at him.

“O-Okay, Ivan… Would you like a tour of the lab?” He asked once again.

“Not really, if im being honest.. For now, I think i’ll look around for myself, and perhaps find a place to sleep. I am very tired after all.” He spoke while rubbing at his eyes.

“V-Very well.. Do be careful not to break anything! This place is old!” Jonathan warned. Ivan only nodded as he trudged out the door of the operation room and into the main lobby. Fredrick gave it a minute or two to make sure Ivan was out of earshot before crying out in euphoria:

“It worked! It works! We did it!”

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Fredrick! I thought it couldn’t be done, but Boy, was I wrong!”

Fredrick couldn’t help but pace up and down the room with a smile that curled from ear to ear. Jonathan found himself smiling at Fredrick’s happiness as a warm feeling came across his face.

After a while, they settled down to have a brief lunch of canned soup while discussing trivial things like how much dust was originally in the lab before they cleaned it, or what temperature it would get down to tonight, things of that sort. It was only after 10 minutes or so that Fredrick brought up the next step in their project.

“So, now that we brought Ivan back, do you think we should start work on Olivia now?” Jonathan asked as he drank some of the broth out of the can. Fredrick shook his head.

“Not yet, its a bit early for that. Besides, i think for this next step, we should get a woman for a subject. Olivia is a woman after all, we might have to do different things for her, y’know?”

“Yeah, I suppose you have a point.”

“But at the same time, I’m thinking: should we ask the Carnegie brothers for another body? You saw that look Simon was giving us when we asked for a body the first time? How would he react if we asked for another? He’d probably call the fuzz on us!”

“I think he was just confused more than anything! Besides, Phil would probably be more than willing to help us out again- of course, we’d need to pay him. You know how he loves getting paid.

“Heh, yeah, that is true! You think he’d be available to call right now?” Fredrick pondered as he took a bite of soup.

“Well, do you have his number?”

“Yeah, of course, its 504-555-1849!”

“Alright! Hey, i see a phone hanging on the wall over there, you think it still works?” Jonathan asked while pointing over to a yellowed-white home telephone hung on the wall, with a weather-weakened notepad hanging beside it with a pen hanging by a blue ribbon.

“Only one way to find out, Jon.” Fredrick chuckled. Jonathan wrinkled his nose playfully before getting up to throw his empty can away and walking to the phone. He then took the reciever off of the wall.

“What was the number again?” Jonathan asked Fredrick.

“504-555-1849.” Fredrick repeated.

Jonathan then repeated it back to himself under his breath while he punched the correct numbers into the phone. He then pressed the reciever to his ear only to hear that familiar ringing tone. It tasted for about 10 seconds or so before Phil picked up.

“Carnagie Funeral Home, Phil speaking.” Phil responded. In the backfround, there were noises that pointed to him being outside. Digging, perhaps?

“H-Hey, Phil! H-How’s it going?”

“Not much, just digging graves, the normal stuff. How’ve you been?” “Well you know about that…. That- uh.. The thing that.. Uh-”

“Jesus Jonathan, Spit it out! You’re starting to sound like fredrick!” Phil laughed as he could be heard digging his shovel into the ground. Jonathan quickly turned away so that fredrick could not see him, as he could feel his face burning red hot, and his breath quickening.

“S-Shut up! I-Im talking about the project that me and Fredrick had going on! Turns out, you can in fact bring back the dead!”

“Really? Holy crap- thats amazing!” “Yeah, But Phil… We need another favor.” Jonathan began. “We need… another person, preferrably a woman. Do you have anyone like that? Someone who hasn’t been claimed by any family or whatnot?”

“Well, now that you mention it, there is one woman, kinda… infamous, if you catch my drift. That’s all i’ll say over the telephone though- you never know if someone else could be listening. Tell you what, You and Fredrick come over to the funeral home around 11 o’clock or midnight, and when you do come, I’ll need you to drive around back so that no cops or nosy people bother us, and when you do that, we’ll see what we can do, alright? That sound good?” Phil offered.

“Yeah, that sounds alright…” Jonathan droned as he picked up the pen that was dangling near the weather-thinned notepad, clicking it until the ball-point was visible. He then tested it on the margins to find that the ink was still inside.

“So at around 11 pm or midnight, we drive back over to the funeral home, drive around back, and you’ll give us to her?” “Well, you will have to have some money with ya- i don’t think simon’ll appreciate it if i just have you her without any payment.” “Of course, how much will it be this time?”

“700 dollars, just like last time.” Jonathan then proceeded to write down what Phil had told him upon the notepad.

“Alright, You got that all written down somewhere? Can’t stay on the line for long, my phones fixing to die on me!”

“Yeah, i did. Well, i better let you get back to digging. Thank you, Phil! Talk to you in a little bit.”

“Yeah, see you tonight. Ya’ll take care, now!”

Click.

Jonathan then turned around to face Fredrick, who had since finished his can of soup and was waiting for him to finish speaking to Phil

“So what did Phil say?” Fredrick asked while throwing away the can.

“So, Phil’s plan is for us to come back to the home around either 11 o’clock or midnight, and when we get there, he said to drive around back, and then he’ll give us the woman and we pay him. That sounds alright to you?” Jonathan explained as he put the pen back on the spiral part of the notebook. Fredrick paused for a bit, but then nodded.

“Yeah, that’ll work! That’ll work just fine!”

“Great! What should we do in the meantime?”

“Hm, I think we should check up on Ivan right quick. He did say he was going to find some place to sleep, but knowing him and his history, I wouldn’t doubt that he ran off or something.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! Hope he did the former!”

Fredrick and Jonathan then exited the operation room and made their way into the main lobby, to find that Ivan was not there.

“Sh-t, Sh-t, Sh-t, where is he?!” Jonathan squeaked as he briskly looked around. Fredrick, However, did not respond, but instead walked deeper into the building, listening for footsteps, or any kind of movement. He then came across a closet, and promptly opened it, finding none other then ivan, slumped against the closet wall asleep with his face covered by his arms, silently snoring.

“Well I’ll be damned, he really did keep to his word..” Jonathan mumbled while staring at Ivan.”Didn’t expect that..”

“Yeah… Look at him, ‘Ts like a big caracal….” “You got that right. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hissed at us if we disturbed him…” Jonathan joked as he gently closed the closet door back. The two scientist then slowly but surely backed away, and went back into the main lobby.

“Alright, so now we know that Ivan’s still here, and it’ll be a while before we can go to the home to grab that woman, lets just sit and wait for a while, not like anything too important is going on…” Fredrick suggested, looking over at the cryogenic chamber Olivia resided in, covered with a white sheet so that he may not lock eyes with his dead child. He quickly looked away afterwards, for he did not want to be sucked into sorrow, at least not now. For the next few hours, they decided to organize the cybernetic parts into catagories of what they were, such as eyes, arms, legs, neck joints, hands, and other things that would need sorting. 6 hours would go by, but they finally had everything organized for the next surgery.

“Alright, well we got that done.. I didn’t realize how big our box of stuff was!” Fredrick laughed while examining a cyber-eye, its LEDS not glowing due to them not being connected, but a sticker on the cords signified what color it was-- Magenta.

“You think Magenta eyes would look good?” Fredrick asked while turning the eye around in his hands. Jonathan could only shrug.

“We’d have to look at the woman beforehand. He did say she was infamous for some reason, so we may have to redo her entire face so that if she were to go outside or anything, no one would recognize her..”

“Yeah, you have a point. I guess we’ll know what he have to do when we get there.”

…

Midnight struck, and Fredrick and Jonathan were waiting behind the Carnagie Funeral home in Fredrick’s truck, waiting for Phil to come greet them. They waited like this for around 10 or 15 minutes until they saw Phil coming out of the warehouse while holding a Mag light, slowly trudging towards the truck. As soon as Fredrick’s eyes registered Phil, he immediately rolled down the windows and waved.

“Hey Phil, we’ve made it.”

“Good, you came at the time I said to. Now, you said something about needing a woman for yall’s project?” Phil whispered, swiftly looking around his surroundings.

“Yeah, thats right.”

Phil went silent, and looked over towards the treelines, then to the back enterance to the building, and then back to Fredrick.

“I told Jonathan that the woman i’m gonna give yall is kinda infamous.. Y’all know of Betsy Greene?” “Yeah, she was the news lady, right?”

“Yeah, from what I can remember, someone she brought onto the show also brought in some ‘tame’ spikers that ended up breaking out of containment and killing both Betsy and the person she brought on… while the cameras were still rolling.”

Jonathan winced, and Fredrick’s eyes widened. He had remembered Betsy Greene. Of course, he didn’t know her personally, but he remembered how she was a lively newswoman who would show the weather forecasts every now and then, but would mainly be the one to deliver news and such along with a fellow newsman.

“Well why the hell did she do that?!” Fredrick inquired, confused. “I mean, I remember when they brought that guy on with the spikers, but I had already changed the channel!”

“I think that guy was trying to show off how he had managed to tame two spikers with something, but rumor’s going around that she brought them on as an indirect way to do herself in, but I don’t know how true that is-- people love to make up crap to made other people look bad. Anyway, I got off topic, Follow me.” Phil mumbled as he pointed his flashlight towards the warehouse and led Fredrick and Jonathan inside. They walked past drawers upon drawers of the dead until Phil stopped at a drawer that had a pink ribbon tied to it.

“Marked it for convenience,” Phil gruffed as he opened up the drawer to reveal the woman. “So, what do you think? She good enough for ya?”

The woman was beautiful, at least as beautiful as you can say. Her hair that went down to her hipbones was the color of banana pudding, her skin was pale, as would be expected of someone whom has passed, her nails were a bright shade of red, like blood or a red rose. She wore a sleeveless white button-up blouse with a red collar, same shade as her nails, paired with a charcoal black skirt that went down to above her knee, and her outfit was finished with black stockings with garters, a pearl necklace and ruby red heels. For a news anchor, her outfit could be seen as a tad bit unprofessional by past generations, but this is 2042, and times had changed. Fredrick, however, only took notice of her face, skinny with a tiny button nose and big eyes and that were hidden underneath her eyelids and lashes.

“She’s perfect.” Fredrick mumbled while pulling 700 dollars from his wallet and handing it to Phil. “Does she have any belongings?”

“She sure does. Heh, I didn’t even have to bag any of it up this time!” Phil joked as he handed Fredrick a pink cushion-patterned purse with a golden heart dangling off of the side. “From what I remembered, it had her drivers liscence, her little baggy of makeup, her keys, and… I think thats it!” “Well thats good to have. I bet she’ll want it when she.. Wakes up, i guess is the word for it.” Fredrick shrugged as Jonathan brought the Ice-chest in to put her inside. “...She has been treated with the anti-rot stuff, right?”

“Of course she has! Simon does that with every person that comes through his office.”

“Alright, Good deal… Just wanted to know. Well, Its late- I might as well get back to Baton Rouge..”

“Thats where you and Jonathan are holding up? I thought that place got wrecked to hell!”

“Yeah, it did, but the rubble keeps the Lab tucked away so no people come to try and rob it, Y’know? its a…. Tactical advantage. You understand that, right?” Fredrick asked, referring to Phil’s time as a soldier in the war.

“Yeah, I get that. Hell, I’d want a secluded place too if I was doing illegal experiments.”

“Well, its not Illegal if you’re not caught.”

“How the-... I’m not even gonna question it.” Phil chuckled while shaking his head. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your little lab to do your science. You have a good night, Fredrick, Jonathan..” “Thank you, you do the same.” Fredrick responded as he picked up the ice-chest. Jonathan smiled and waved before the two walked back to the truck, putting the chest into the truck, and jumping back in, making way back to the lab.

As they drove, Jonathan looked at the woods that were speeding by him, blackened by night’s darkness. He thought to himself on whether or not he was doing the right thing, helping Fredrick bring back the dead. If there really was a great beyond, if there was really was life after death, were they pulling the departed back? Were the two scientists reaching into the heavens and stealing souls to put back into the vessels they had left? Are they.. Playing God? What would happen to the both of them after they died? Would they be cast into the bowels of hell, or would there be nothing? Or, in the least likeliness, would they be accepted into the gates of heaven? Jonathan could only think of this, and the growing feeling of guilt swelling inside of his chest. He tried to cast these worries and guilty feelings aside, however. What good would it do to doubt Fredrick? He knows what he’s doing, he’s a man of science.

Jonathan desperately tried to think about anything other than his twisting guilt, until he finally thought of… Fredrick. Not just Fredrick’s plans, not just his skills or history, but of Fredrick himself. He found himself thinking back to the days of Project Prometheus, working upon soldiers that had been greatly wounded in battle, building them into the weapons they needed to win the war. He remembered exactly what Fredrick looked like during those days as well.. Chestnut brown hair, eyes as green and deep as malachite or an emerald, his beard neatly trimmed as to not get in the way of his experiments, and a body as thin as a teenaged boys due to his measly diet of a ham and cheese sandwich and a handful of cashews. Stern yet forgiving, he commanded his crew of scientists well, and with a scalpel and wrench in each hand, he inadvertedly led America to victory in the Battle of Siberia in 2028. What bravery this then-30 year old man had to go against the odds in the name of victory and science, Jonathan thought to himself.

He then found his mind involuntarily turning towards fredrick’s appearance nowadays. Within his mind’s eye, he could see the man angles of Fredick’s face, from the points and curves in his jawline, the angular pointed nose he possessed, his pine-needle green eyes and his powder white hair and beard, which in an oddly cute sort of way, made him look like a human rendition of a billy-goat. As he doted on his appearence more and more, he found that a warm sensation began to spread across his face, and his heart began to beat just a bit quicker than before, yet oddly enough, this was comforting to him as that warm feeling began to spread to his ears- although that could very well have been caused by the combination of Jonathan’s peculiar sudden feelings and the fact that Fredrick had the heater on full blast. All of this combined with the comfort from the truck’s seats led Jonathan to slowly relax, and drift into sleep. True sleep.

…

“Jon? Jon! Jonathan!”

“H-huh..?”

Jonathan opened his eyes to find himself on his cot in the laboratory, while Fredrick stood within the threshold of the operation room’s doorway, once again wearing those red googles, a medical mask and red rubber gloves, his lab coat buttoned all the way as to not ruin his lovely yellow dress shirt and red tie. He was red in the face and breathing heavily, as if he had just got done carrying a large sack of feed.

“Fredrick, are you okay? You look like you’re about to fall over!”

“Yeah.. yeah, I’m fine. You feel asleep in the truck again so I decided to carry you in. And let me tell you, despite you being all skinny, you are heavy!” he huffed and wheezed. Jonathan could feel his face, especially his cheeks and ears, heating up like little fires.

“W-Well why the hell didn’t you wake me up! I c-could’ve walked in myself!” He stammered as he immediately jumped off the cot, a red, stuttering, glasses-wearing mess.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t feel like waking you up. Besides, i had to get the ice-chest in so i could prepare everything.” Fredrick shrugged, confused and perplexed as to why Jonathan was making such a fuss about something as friendly as a friend bringing his sleeping friend inside out of the cold.

“....Well, wake me next time, please… Anyway, forget that- what can I do to help?”

“Well, I just prepared that woman for her surgery, but I haven’t done anything yet, not without your help. But you see, that's when I got to thinking- Since she was real popular on the news, everyone knows what she looks like! Then you have the fact that she was brutally k1lled while she was on the air..” Fredrick muttered. “I should probably take one of the face-plates he have in the box and restructure the face! We should probably give her a new name too, just to be safe.”

“Good thinking, Fredrick.”

They then entered the room, and Jonathan buttoned up his lab coat and put on a medical mask and a pair of gloves before joining Fredrick at the table, where laying was the woman they had acquired from the Carnagies, with pen markings upon her chest in the form of a Y, with her face being covered with markings as well as her shoulder blades. Right beside the table were a pair of cyber-eyes, a set of arms, neck-joints, cybernetic organs, and her purse.

“I saw her arms were all scratched up, real bad! Must’ve been the spikers.. Don’t spikers have real sharp claws?” Fredrick asked, inspecting her right arm by turning it ever so gently to find that the scars were a dark red, like any normal scar that was healing, or was, but the areas surrounding them were a peculiar dark color. Jonathan winced and slowly backed up from the woman, but Fredrick only shook his head.

“Jon, it's okay, it's just some spiker scratches- they don’t have any venom in there. Now, if there were venom in this lady’s arms, we’d have some problems!” Fredrick tried to joke, but decided to give up.

“It's not that i’m worried that there's venom, it's just… It just looks gross!”

“Oh come on, when that spiker cub scratched you a couple years back, I didn’t call your scars gross looking! Well, they were, but… agh, let's just get started with this before I forget what i’m doing.” Fredrick chuckled before he readied his scalpel and began to gently cut along the lines he had created on the woman’s skin, allowing Fredrick to open the ribs and begin removing the organs that had since become useless now that the woman had died. What use would they have in a body of mechanical parts? He threw them away afterwards into a biohazard bag to bury later, and looked up at Jonathan, who had been staring at the macabre sight.

“You okay?” Fredrick inquired.

“Y-yeah, j-just…. Thinking, I guess..”

“Well, we should be focusing on this… hand me a wrench and a screwdriver, would you?”

Jonathan then handed him the wrench, surprised at Fredrick’s reaction, but he didn’t pay no mind to it. He was right, they should be focusing on the task at hand and not daydreaming. Daydreaming could lead to mistakes, and they did not want that.

Fredrick then began to screw together computer parts and cybernetical organs into place, replacing system by system, until the interior of the woman was filled with wires and parts. He then looked at her arms…

“Hand me a Bonesaw, please.” Fredrick blankly asked, adjusting her arms until she was in a T-shape. Jonathan’s jaw went slightly agape at the request he made, his arms slowly trembling.

“Wh- Why? I thought nothing was wrong with her arms! You said there wasn’t any spiker venom!”

“There shouldn’t be, but with these dark marks and scratches, it's not worth keeping them… what if there's lingering spiker DNA that interferes with the organic parts still left-over? Do you want robot spikers, Jon? Because that's how you get robot spikers!”

“N-no..”

“...Then please hand me a bonesaw.”

Jonathan then went over to the tray and picked up a clean bonesaw, made of steel. Clean. Sharp. Durable. He then handed it to Fredrick with his hand ever so slightly jittering, his jaw clenched.

“...Thank you, Jonathan…” Fredrick sighed before aiming the saw just below the shoulder joint… And with urgency, yet neatness, Fredrick began to saw, and saw, and saw on each side until the body and arms were both separate. When all was said and done, Fredrick wiped the sweat off his brow and deeply sighed.

“Good, good, the hard parts over…” Fredrick mumbled to himself as he took the robotic arms and connected their wires with the wires that were looped about her collarbones and into the shoulders and proceeded to screw the arms into place. Unlike Ivan’s arms, that were merely reinforced with metal, these were entirely metal, save for a white silicone covering from the forearms down to the fingertips. Fredrick, satisfied with his work of science, began to wrap up until he noticed that the woman still had her original face.

“...Oh.. we still have to change her face and eyes! And install the neck joints!” He pipped before gently grabbing a scalpel. He was about to immediately begin cutting until he remembered Jonathan. Jonathan had seen his fair share of surgeries, but he could not recall if he had ever seen a face surgery.

“Jonathan, I’m about to replace her face. If you want, you can leave while I do this, it’s going to be…. Well, It won’t be a pretty sight, that's for sure!” He warned. Jonathan, despite his inner protestings to not watch, decided “What the heck? It should be simple, right?”

“N-No, I’ll be okay. I don’t remember seeing one of these before, at least not in real life.”

“You sure?”

“P-Positive!”

“...Well alright, Imma start cutting in, then.” Fredrick shrugged as he gently began to cut along the dotted lines, separating flesh until…

“Dear god, that is…. That's….” Jonathan trembled as he turned pale from the horrid sight. Fredrick, in all honesty, was not phased in the slightest. He had replaced faces before, some more heavily damaged than others, but this was probably the easiest one he had gotten to date. Or maybe it was his subtle dissociation that kept him from reacting the same way as his best friend.

“Yeah, I told you it wasn't pretty.. But if we wanna keep her from being recognized after that news incident, it’s worth a lost appetite, y’know?” Fredrick sighed before removing the woman's original eyes and putting them in the biohazard bag, now installing the cybereyes with wires and needles going into the formations that connected the eyes to the brain. Afterwards, he quickly installed a porcelain-white faceplate with a rather feminine face, with a thin black line dropping from the bottom of each eye socket.

“There… all finished.." Fredrick huffed as he took off his goggles and bloodied gloves, surveying his creation, a crude amalgamation of steel and flesh somehow more horrifying than Ivan, a feared former general. He then walked over to the kitchen sink and rinsed the viscera off of his gloves.

“That was more complicated than I thought I'd be.. It was easy with Ivan, as far as surgery went.” He monologues to himself. Jonathan could only blink and stare at Fredrick, not understanding what he just witnessed. Normally, Fredrick wasn’t this… snappy. He also wasn’t this distant. How badly Jonathan wanted to ask if Fredrick was okay, but he knew he would most likely be answered with silence.

Frederick then connected her to the jury-rigged shocker once more, just like how he did with Ivan..

“Alright, you ready, Jonathan?”

“Ready!”

“Alrighty, 3.. 2… 1!”

When he pressed the button, that loud pop was heard, like a cannon. The lights flickered ever so gently… Fredrick then handed the button to Jonathan as he went to inspect the woman to find she wasn’t breathing.

“....Hit that button again, would’ja, Jon?”

POP!

No response.

Fredrick then walks back over to Jonathan, gently taking the button from his hands, and presses the button again.

POP!

He furrowed his brow, he grit his teeth, and his grip tightened around the remote.

“C’mon, Work with me!” POP!

No response. Frederick found himself becoming more and more impatient the longer he pressed that button, expecting that woman to start breathing..

POP! POP! POP!

Eventually, he found himself gripping that remote tight until his knuckles turned white without care of whether it broke, gritting his teeth.

POP!-POP!-POP!-POP!

He then lost all composure and punched the wall with full force, with a yelp as soon as it hit the hard wall. Jonathan immediately ducked under a table to escape Fredrick’s sudden wrath, not out of will, but an almost instinctual need. Frederick held his hand, scuffed and bloodied by the walls rough texture, letting out a pained hiss like a cat or a snake.

“F-Fredrick! A-Are you okay?!” “Yeah- yeah, i’m fine.. She breathing yet? Fixing to give up and chunk her out!” he growled. Jonathan paced toward the woman to check, and sure enough, she had begun to breathe.

“Yeah! She’s breathing!”

“Oh thank god…” he sighed as he slumped down along the wall, holding his injured hand with his good one. Jonathan, seeing this, ran over to the shelves, where a first aid kit hung on the wall beside it. He immediately grabbed it, fumbling to keep it in his grasp, and ran back over to Fredrick.

“Jonathan, I’m alright, but that back up.” Frederick groaned, trying his best to apply pressure to his wounds”

“Are you out of your mind right now?! That could get infected!”

“Jon, I’m okay, just plea-”

“Don’t you give me that! I’m the one with a medical doctorate here! With how dirty these walls are, it’d get infected if we don’t clean it!”

It went back and forth like this for a solid 4 or 5 minutes until Fredrick finally succumbed to Jonathan’s insistence on letting him clean his angrily begotten wound. Jonathan then opened up the kit to find your usual band-aids, sterilized pads, butterfly bandaids… but where was the rubbing alcohol?

“You know where some rubbing alcohol is, Fredrick?” “How the hell should I know, you’re the one who got the kit out!” He groaned as he rolled his eyes. Then there was the sound of boots hitting against the linoleum flooring outside, and Ivan busted into the operation room.

“What was that noise? It sounded like something fell!”

“Fredrick just punched the wall, Ivan, don’t worry!”

“Well that was stupid of you, Dr. Johanneson.” Ivan smirked. Frederick shot daggers at him before he looked back at Jonathan, finding that slowly but surely, he was beginning to calm down.

“Hey Ivan, you know where some rubbing alcohol would be?” Jonathan asked.

“I got vodka in my flask!”

“That's…. Not what I asked.”

“You can use it as disinfectant if you dilute it. I’ve used it plenty of times, so have the men under me.”

“...you know what, to hell with it, dilute some in a cup for me, and bring it over here.”

And Ivan did just that as he filled a little paper cup half-full of the clear liquor, and the other half full of water. He then walked ever so gently toward the two, handing the full cup to Jonathan.

“Thank you.. Now Fredrick, I won't lie, this’ll hurt like hell. Are you ready?” He asked him as he held the cup just above his hand, covered in dried up blood.

“Yes, of course! Quit treating me like.. Like your patient!” Fredrick muttered, looking away from the two as he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, 1. 2. 3.”

He slowly poured the liquor onto Fredricks hand, causing him to jolt upright and growl through his teeth as the alcohol entered his wounds with seering pain. Out of instinct, he tried to pull away, but jonathan pulled his arm back towards him, not even bothering to ask him to keep still. Afterwards, he patted his hand dry with a sterilized cloth and wrapped his hand in white bandages.

“That isn’t too tight, is it?” Jonathan asked as he put tape on the bandages to fasten it. Fredrick shook his head and sighed, still recovering from the sudden agony.

“No, its alright.. Jonathan, you don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine!”

“Fredrick, of course I do! I’m your friend! Besides, with those two spikers that were in here, who knows if their DNA was on the walls! Don’t spikers lay oothecae on walls and eat the shelling after the eggs hatch?”

“....Jon, thats disgusting.. But you have a point… Ivan, check that woman for me, will you?”

“Yes Sir… she’s still breathing!”

“Good! I still need to read her memories and delete some stuff from there..” Fredrick groaned as he got up, using his uninjured hand to balance against the wall before trudging over to the memory machine and grabbing the memory sticks in his hands tightly, sticking them through the woman’s skull and into her brain. Memories were quickly converted, although much slower than Ivan’s though, however. Fredrick could only assume she had been dead longer than Ivan had, and did not question it further. He removed files that had to do with her death, removed evidence of her name and replaced Betsy Greene with Eva Moore, and waited a while before saving and closing out of the program.

“Alright, thats done…. We should probably get another some time tomorr-”

“Oh no you don’t! You’re gonna let that hand heal up before you do any more surgeries!” “Jonathan, I said i’m fine, i can do this!” “Fredrick, F-friends don’t let friends do surgeries while their hand is healing from an injury.” Jonathan insisted. Fredrick wanted to object once more, but seeing Jonathan’s peculiar demanding that he rest, he decided to just let it be. Besides, whats a little downtime going to hurt? And if Jonathan, a liscenced doctor, says to not do any surgery for the time being, he might as well.

“Come lay down, fredrick, its 2 o’clock in the morning.. We’ll deal with that woman later when she wakes up… Hey, what did you name her, anyway? I know you said you were going to replace her name!”

“I named her Eva. Eva Moore. No real reason or namesake, I just thought it sounded nice.” Fredrick replied as he got ready for bed by taking off his shirt and tie and shoes, while Jonathan put on the baggy black shirt he had found for a pajama shirt.

“Well, it certainly has a ring to it, I’ll give you that!” Jonathan chuckled before they got into their respective cots.

“Night, Jon.”

“Night, Fredrick”

And Jonathan turned out the lights.

…

Jonathan had woken up to the darkness he had left himself and Fredrick in, only hearing Fredrick snore beside him in his cot. He found that it was strangely cold, but he only assumed that the winter cold was creeping in from that broken boarded up window. His eyes slowly began to adjust to the dark around him as shadows of tables and shelves and Fredrick’s cot came into focus..

And “Eva” was standing inches away from him, eyes glowing a piercing Magenta, with a blank stare.

#tw implied gore #tw surgery #tw corpse #red tides a' rollin'#red tides a rollin #rtar #bookwriting #writeblr #writing #book #writers of tumblr

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enginire · 2 years ago

Text

snowpiercer rp prompts. episode 4-6.

adapt. that's what humans do, isn't it?

systems resist change, even without their maker.

i'm just a scientist - i'm here to save the world, not change it.

i know our chances of surviving are slim at best.

i knew you'd be up.

no rest for the weary.

i want you to ask for help.

i'm not afraid to be seen together.

you just don't want to walk to work with me in the morning?

you have the privilege of seeing it that way.

i'm gonna give you a chance to make things right.

i want you to go get a gurney and some sheets. we need postmortem data. do you understand what i'm asking you?

i gave you a description of a killer - what did you do with it?

she's dead, and our killer gets his bacon and eggs.

they don't even know who they're chasing.

work it out now. work it out later - just do your freaking job.

now i've got a sense of what you do here, i thought you might have a take on it.

you know people, high and low. you know their secrets.

that would be confidential… if the answer wasn't no.

cut the shit. you have my support.

you've been stashing supplies there, right?

these people broiled the earth, then they froze her, and now they hang the spoils on their wall.

i came from nothing. i know a thing or two about class.

that anger you feel when you look at all of this? it's justified. let's used this.

alright, two things - i don't give a shit who you are, and someone up here has got a thing for chopping off dicks.

you knew he was missing and you didn't tell us?

good news first… we may have identified the killer.

all the piss and shit left in the world. you get used to the smell.

is he going to go through all of our things?

you think he was capable of something like this?

it can't come off like we have sheltered a monster.

i hear you eat people.

it keeps everyone up here scared of you… like — i'd eat a dude just to make everyone shit bricks like they do with you.

you know, you're a lot cooler smashing the system than being his dick.

morality's a moving target.

he might've been the murderer, but removing body parts… that's how he screwed up.

what do you mean he screwed up?

it's a punishment that women lay down on men.

the murderer who hid among us is dead, and a second suspect is in custody.

thanks to a successful investigation, order has been restored, and i assure you, justice will prevail.

let's put the politics down and celebrate a win.

you know i can't let you do that. you've seen too much.

a myth's a powerful thing - pray you never know the weight of it.

some of us are ready to change his terms.

it will be perilous, filthy work - more precious souls may be lost.

but we didn't come this far, suffer this much, to give in to the same tyranny that destroyed us in the first place.

all this time in here, and you still won't talk to me?

what you say in here is admissible… so our smart visitors stay quiet.

yeah, if she messes up, we both suffer.

i guess we should leave you two to celebrate.

look at us - made it three whole months before shacking up.

i was sure about you the day we met.

by tonight, this will all be over and you'll be back here with us.

stare out the window on your own time, please.

that stunt was beneath you.

you've grown calloused doing his bidding. you used to try and make a difference, too.

i am asking you to stay true to your vision.

don't make me threaten you.

you think we have a class divide now? this could blow the whole thing up.

god, i wish i could open a frigging window.

i miss the sound of rain. i miss so many things.

you just keep your head down, alright? we'll watch your back.

i guess they're his rules to change.

he chose the will of the people.

we don't have will, we have order.

you must be happy now that you're bourgeoisie.

are you gonna extort addicts for sex today?

now, you're gonna see some things that are unfamiliar to you - things like hygiene and self respect. you will hear people speaking in complete sentences. now don't punch them, don't punch their belongings, don't lick things - am i making myself clear?

maybe he turned over the wrong rock.

i've got $400 million in early investor status and a whole world of pain when it comes to my survival.

day-to-day operations… justice, resources — maybe these matters would be better handled here, where their effects are felt.

he mostly just stared at us coldly - which, i won't lie, is very effective.

i was as much her hostage as i was his.

send a message that justice is not reserved for the rich.

don't take this personally, huh? and don't get caught.

so you go ahead with your show trial and prepare to suffer the consequences - because you're messing with my blood line.

the confusion… the ache in my guts, the fear - that's love, isn't it?

he said fear makes people honest.

i was silent when i should have spoken, but he gave his life to save humanity from the darkness that almost swallowed me whole.

well, that changes the calculus, doesn't it?

there's no choice - it's what she asked for in the worst case.

you need to hide him.

keep your head on a swivel, because trouble comes sideways.

to climb, someone else falls. to gain, someone else loses.

have all the fun jobs, man - and you don't even have to follow protocol.

you can shag the help too, right?

maybe you should find a girlfriend.

they'd suffer along with the rest of us - they're putting the gun to their own head.

why would they punish you?

careful what you wish for, huh?

you should've left me out of it! then all of this rage that you feel, all of the blame - then it would've been pure!

when they discover he's missing, this'll be the first place they look.

there can be no more contact - it's for your own good.

i need to tell you something, in case anything happens to me.

he's an illusion to keep the rest of us in line.

christ, what a picture.

tissue damage is limited. as for your melon, it could be days before the fog clears.

i'm not cleared to know.

do you know - if what you did comes out, you'll lose your job, probably an arm too and your girlfriend? well, she'll just drop you like the piece of rough shit that you are.

so here's what i want: every last thing i can get.

there's fun to be had here, and i plan to have some.

and now we all know you're as dirty at they come, you're gonna have to play along, aren't ya?

she was a warrior. she fought like hell. and she loved you kids more than anything.

you're the head of the family now.

i wanna do something for them - for everybody. lift spirits.

fancy meeting you here.

we should run away to tahiti together, you know?

there comes a point where you can't stay on the sidelines any longer.

you did all this by yourself?

i think maybe you should be teaching me.

i feel like i've lived so many lives, died so many times.

i don't have your courage.

we're fighters. we protect the things we love.

he's gonna be fine - it's just gonna take time.

i might never get another chance like this.

we can talk about this tomorrow - make a plan, okay?

lucky you. you get to put on some grubbies.

you cannot spare the rod with these people, you know - you've got to hammer down.

the whole goddamn human experiment - it can be undone by a bloom of mould.

they were selected for diversity, for health, for skills - to give us a fighting chance on the other side!

you decide who lives and who dies.

you don't know the specs, and i need you on diagnostics.

i designed her. i'll fix her.

i'm not gonna stand by while you abuse people.

these are my last words: i won't let you extort me and you're a dick.

i don't get you - so righteous on the small stuff, but pretty darn flexible when it comes to high crimes.

you shouldn't have locked me out!

don't you ever feel like you're being kept in the dark?

i wanna show you something you haven't seen in a long, long time.

i know it seems like this might be the end, but it's not - it can't be.

we are going to make it. i just know it. we just will.

find someone and hold them close, and please, try to stay warm.

it's gonna come out, what you did, whether i spill it or not.

you should, uh. go find your girl.

i should've shown up for you last night.

what if i'm not the person you think i am?

the celebration will end, but their grievances won't.

well, it's nice to see you back among the living.

keep the door locked and, if anyone knocks, pretend you're not here.

#rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #rp prompts #rp sentence starters #MEME.

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