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wienerbarnes · 4 years ago

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Witch Bitch

Pairing: Bucky x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3,943

Warnings: witch stuff, burning at the stake 😳

A/N: this is heavily inspired by american horror story: coven bc i recently watched and ive been binging all of it lately but its not necessary to know anything about ahs lol i kinda just used their fancy magical terminology and concepts bc they were cool🤪

MAIN MASTERLIST

The best time of the day was breakfast. It was the time when Bucky, Sam, and Sharon were most often together. Sometimes training overlapped and they missed lunch. Sometimes missions ran long or friends were in town and they missed dinner. But the morning? They were all early birds, all awake by seven. They took that shared characteristic and shared breakfast together whenever they could. Bucky usually took care of the coffee, Sam usually took care of the eggs and bacon, and Sharon usually took care of the bagels, toasting them to perfection before slathering on a layer of cream cheese.

It was a moment of peace in their day. Quiet before the noise of the gym or the conference room or the jets or the private trainings or the interviews with prospective agents or anything else they do on a daily basis. It was a time for three friends to just sit and eat and enjoy each other's company as though they are just that: three friends. Not super soldiers or captains or special agents. Just people being normal. Normal doesn’t last long, though. It never does for them.

Bucky’s on dish washing duty this morning while Sam and Sharon chat idly behind him, waiting for him to finish so they can all leave together. A soft voice interrupts them, though, making the three of them stop what they’re doing because no one has access to this floor except for the people that live here - meaning them three.

“Who’s in charge here?” You ask.

“Who the hell are you?! How did you get up here?!” Sharon asks, ignoring your question.

You were in a long, flowy black skirt, slit cut in the left side exposing your leg, and a long-sleeve black shirt, tucked beneath the waistband. Think black boots cover your feet and a black hat sits on your head to complete your look. Bucky almost doesn’t notice the folded black umbrella underneath your arm as his eyes trail down the multiple chains and necklaces around your neck, falling between your breasts.

“I’ve been trying to find someone to help me but the people in this building are not very helpful. I figured I’d find who’s in charge myself, something that you all don’t seem to want to help me with, either.” You explain.

“The only way to even enter this building is through strict appointment and background checks, and no one’s even allowed past the nineteenth floor.” Sam explains.

“Why are you entertaining this? I’m getting her out of here.” Sharon says, moving to walk towards you to take you out of the building herself.

As she nears closer and closer, you wave your hand lazily, without taking your eyes off Bucky, the only one who hasn’t said anything this whole time, and Sharon collapses on the floor soundlessly.

“Jesus!”

“What did you do!”

Both Bucky and Sam panic as they rush to Sharon’s body on the floor. They frantically run their hands over her body, looking for the point of injury that made her collapse the way she did, but they find nothing. No holes, no blood; she didn’t even make a sound.

“She’s not breathing and she doesn’t have a pulse, what the fuck did you do to her?!” Sam yells at you.

You roll your eyes, “Okay, you got me. I don’t need help finding who’s in charge, I already know it’s you. I still do need your help, though.”

You’re ignored as the two men hover over their friend, unsure of what to do or what even happened to her.

“Oh, alright, move.” You order them, stepping over Sharon’s body.

You stand before her, lifting your hands to hover over her body before closing your eyes and letting out a deep and long exhale. Bucky and Sam watch as it takes only about seven seconds for their friend to suddenly gasp for air, jumping back to life. The boys crowd her once more, checking her eyes, her pulse, everything to convince themselves that she’s actually alive like that, and if she was even dead in the first place.

Sam finally looks back up at you from the ground, as though he just remembered that you’re there, “What are you?”

You smirk in response, ready to finally get what you came here for.

…

“So, you’re a witch?” Sam asks, the four of them now occupying a private conference room for some privacy.

“A witch who killed me.” Sharon adds.

“And a witch that brought you right back.” You reply, leaning back on your chair, leg crossed over your knee, slit exposing your thigh. Bucky’s eye twitch to look at your bare skin for a second before returning to meet your eyes.

“So… what do you do?” Bucky asks.

You smile at his innocent curiosity, “All witches don’t have one universal power. Some are clairvoyant, some do voodoo, some dabble in pyrokinesis, divination, transmutation, descendum,” You glance over to Sharon, who’s still pouting at you, “Resurrection.”

“And can you do all of those?” Bucky asks.

“Almost all of them, but I’m not here to talk about me.”

“Why are you here?” Sharon asks.

“You guys hunt the Nazi’s, right?” You ask, aiming your question towards Sam, knowing he’s the Captain in charge.

“Hydra, yes.” He confirms.

“Well, your Nazi’s somehow got a hold of my magic. And they are playing with very dangerous fire,” You begin.

Bucky interrupts, “We’re all for taking down Hydra, but, don’t you think you’re a little more… powerful than us?” He asks.

“Bucky!” Sharon slaps his arm, as though she’s shocked that he would ever admit such a thing.

“I am. But I’m not that powerful, either. Not anymore, at least. A group of those Hydra invaded the coven my sisters and I were at. I was the only one that escaped.” You tell them.

“Did Hydra take them?” Sam asks.

“No, they killed them.” You respond, growing irritated as the subject grows touchier and touchier.

“Can’t you just bring them back like you did me?” Sharon inquires.

“No! I can’t. Like I said, I’m not that powerful anymore. Maybe I’d be able to bring back a house full of dead girls when it was me and twelve others but it’s just me now. I wouldn’t come all the way over here if I had other options.”

Silence grows over the group as they process what you’ve gone through. Surviving through the massacre of your fellow witches and not being powerful enough to find the people that did it on your own. You’re vulnerable.

“So what can we do?” Sam asks, ready to join forces with you.

“Help me locate the men who did this so I can handle the magic part.” You tell him.

“What magic do they have?”

“Although witches control most of the magic, sometimes it can be taken on in… physical forms. Specifically blood. The blood they retrieved was from a witch that was skilled in Vitali Vitalis.”

“The alive within the living.” Bucky translates.

“There are two worlds: the living and the dead,” You begin to explain, “Vitali Vitalis keeps the balance between these two things and it’s one of the most difficult powers for a witch to master. Oftentimes it’s used to give parts of your own life, health, and energy to someone who needs it. But it can also allow you to take life from someone and give it to yourself.”

“Like immortality?” Sam questions.

“Not quite. Any witch can be killed with a knife or bullet. This kind of magic keeps you from dying of age. I’ve only ever known one witch who mastered it.”

“What happened to her?”

“She used it for evil, like this. Took the souls of hundreds in order to allow herself to live for almost three centuries. Until she was killed, of course.” You finish, a small smile on your lips knowing that she got what she deserved.

“What, you burn her at the stake?” Sharon jokes.

“Yes, actually. We did.” You tell her matter-of-factly, becoming more and more irritated at the fact that she doesn’t seem to take this is as seriously as you are.

Bucky interrupts, sensing the rising tension between the two girls, “So when we find these guys, you’re going to burn them at the stake, too?” He asks.

“Yes,” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “The consequence of using magic like this for evil is death by fire. I hope you all don’t think the rules will change on account of these men being Nazi’s?”

“Well, we just have a different way of doing things -” Sam begin to defend

“Yes, I’m aware. The countless destruction caused by you and other militaries, the millions of innocent lives lost yearly, not only in the constant war and irresponsible handling of your nuclear and alien weaponry, but by incorrect prosecution. Not to mention the billions of dollars spent on your ridiculous prison systems that don’t work when actual bad people escape and the death penalty practices in certain states. I just figured my way was easier. And cheaper.” You reply.

Silence crowds over the four of them once more as they think over all their options.

“I’m in.” Bucky speaks first.

“Me, too. Even if I don’t like you.” Sharon follows.

“Feeling’s mutual, dear.” You smile at her.

The three of them look to Sam, waiting for his commitment as well.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Plans were made, theories of location were thought of, and plans to execute the mission were put into place, all of which included you. A temporary room was given to you when the information of your lack of a place to stay was brought to light. Only for the duration of this mission, is what Sam told you, but you can spot the amount of love and light in his heart from miles away.

It was later that night, and you’ve since cleansed the room, going as far as to place a protective spell on the entire floor. You’ve lost too much already, and you’re not about to risk anything.

A knock at the door sounds and the visitor you’d been expecting has finally arrived. You walk towards the door, still in your clothes from earlier but now you’ve removed your shoes, and open the door to reveal Bucky.

“I was waiting for you.” You tell him.

“How’d you know I’d come?” He asks, stepping through the door when you step aside, silently gesturing to him to enter.

“I can hear your thoughts. You've been debating whether or not to come see me for the past thirty minutes. Your mind is very loud.”

“Tell me about it.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about the countless nightmares, voices, and all the other reminders of just how loud his mind was.

“You can ask all your questions, you know. I won’t take any offence. You’re just curious.” You tell him, settling on your bed, hoping he’ll join you and stop hovering near the door.

Luckily he takes the hint and takes a seat across from you.

“I’ve never met a witch before. A real one, I mean. Like, someone born a witch. Like Salem witches -”

“I understand.” You chuckle lightly.

“You don’t seem… afraid of me. Or, hesitant, rather.” You tell him, thinking about how he’s received your presence here compared to his colleagues.

“I was wary when you killed my friend, but… you just need some help, is all. I’m sorry, by the way, I’m not sure if I said it before, but, I’m sorry for what happened to your friends.” He tells you.

He’s very polite. But you supposed that’s not abnormal considering he got his manners from the 1920’s. You like it, though. You give him an appreciative smile before giving him the okay to ask you whatever he wanted.

“So you said that witches can master multiple powers but have one specialty; is yours resurrection?”

“Yes; it was the first power I ever exhibited when I was a teenager. I was about fourteen or fifteen. My next mastered skill is descendum and then clairvoyance, where I was in my twenties, or so.” You tell him as he looks at you with pure fascination in his eyes.

“What is - what is descendum?”

You pause, “The power to descend your soul down into the afterlife - to hell. And return alive.”

His eyes widened, not even knowing that was something someone can do; not even knowing that hell existed in the first place, “So, you’ve been to hell?”

“Yes. I’ve also been able to retrieve people from hell, their soul. A variation of my power of resurrection, I suppose.” You explain, not being too fond of that power; descending to hell.

Bucky sits in silence for a few minutes, and you let him. You can hear the question lingering around in his head; what he’s thinking. But you let him build up his own courage to ask it. You know he’s only scared of the answer; the answer you know he’s not going to like.

“What is hell like?” He whispers.

“It doesn’t matter what my hell is like. Everyone has their own personal hell they experience when they die.” You tell him.

Confusion clouds his features as he registers your answer.

“Is there… Is there no heaven?”

You smirk, “It’s nice that you’ve remained religious after all this time.”

“Yes, there's heaven. But only for the purest and most innocent of souls. And rarely do people escape life without sin. Everyone has evil in them.” You tell him, knowing it’s a harsh truth that no one wants to hear.

The people Bucky’s killed, the crime he’s committed, the families he’s hurt; it all passes through his mind. Everyone has evil in them.

“What was your hell like?”

“I’m not telling you that.” You tell him quickly.

Bucky ponders what his own hell will be like, after seeing the way you’re clearly shaken up about your own. The fall from the train. The man in a lab coat sawing off the rest of his arm. The needles poking through his skin in the middle of some facility. The chair.

He doesn’t realize that he’s looked away from you until he snaps his thoughts back to the present and sees he’s looking down into his lap. He glances up to see your face, your soft features and kind eyes staring at him. He glances from your eyes to your lips and back up again before clearing his throat, not realizing how close he got to you during his time here sitting on your bed.

“You know, I, uh, I should go. Thank you for, uh, answering my questions, but we head out pretty - pretty early tomorrow, so,” He trails off, standing and patting down his shirt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in a nervous habit.

He makes his way towards the door and his hand touches the knob when he hears your voice, “Hey, Bucky?” He turns slightly to face you again, a hum to indicate for you to continue.

“Thank you for coming to see me. And thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me. You’re a very good person.” You tell him sincerely.

He gives you a nod of you’re welcome before exiting.

He’s not sure if you told him that because you truly mean it, or if it’s because of the state of anxiety and existential crises you’ve put him in now that he’s going to be thinking about his personal hell, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

He thinks you’re a pretty good person, yourself.

…

The mission goes off without a hitch. The combined skill of the Avengers’ stealth, spyware, and experience along with your magic and witchery makes for an easy capture of the men who killed your witch sisters and stole your magic.

It’s not long before the facility they were at was shut down and cleared out, arresting any officers and rescuing any prisoners or hostages, and the five men specifically responsible for the destruction of your coven are in separate custody. What’s left of the blood is returned to you, as well.

That’s where the group of you stand now, a decision to be made about the criminals you’ve captured. To be put in the maximum security prison floating in the ocean, or to be put to death by fire.

“I don’t believe in being the executioner of people.” Sam tries to convince.

You can’t help but let a laugh escape you, “Do you know who you work for?! Do you know who you are?!” You remind him.

“Those guys can’t escape the Raft.” He tries, referring to prison in the middle of the ocean you’ve heard about.

“You did.” You respond, knowing about when Steve Rogers took him out of that prison, along with other superheros.

You see Bucky and Sharon look between the two of you, torn between how these Hydra criminals should receive their fate. Staring into the hot depths of flames or rotting alone in a cell? Both seem to be too merciful, in Bucky’s opinion.

“This isn’t just running the facility or experiments, Sam. This is different. They were using dark magic to commit crimes. Maybe they should face the consequences of a dark-magic-punishment.” Sharon offers.

You don’t have time to be shocked at Sharon agreeing with you and picking your side before Bucky agrees and Sam is outnumbered. He stares at you and gives a single nod, allowing you to do this your way.

You smile, a silent thank you for giving you the closure and opportunity to serve justice to those who did you harm. “Off to Massachusetts, then.” You tell them, and Sam takes his seat in the pilot's chair, Bucky accompanying him in the front of the jet.

You take a seat, making yourself comfortable for the flight to Salem and you feel a body take the seat next to you. You glance up to see Sharon looking at you, but you notice she has something in her hand, offering it to you.

You look down to see a small plastic bag of fruit gummies. But not just any fruit gummies, you realize. Halloween themed fruit gummies. The pictures on the outside show the various options inside: witch’s hat, a broom stick, a melting pot, a vial, and a magic wand. Hilarious.

You take the gummies, though, accepting her attempt at a truce.

It’s not long before you and your temporary teammates find themselves standing before a large, empty field, multiple wooden stakes standing about fifteen feet tall scattered about with plenty of space in between.

You lead the walk to a group of them standing tall in line, so the men can be burned at the same time, as opposed to one by one. A group of large, burly agents lug the Hydra operatives along, behind you and the rest of the team.

Bucky hangs around your left, as to not be in the way of the black umbrella held in your right hand, and Sam and Sharon trail behind you. You can sense their uneasiness and tune out their worried thoughts. Everyone’s first burning is always an experience; they’ll get over it.

Bucky doesn’t seem worried, though. In fact, you can’t hear his thoughts this time around. But he still stands tall and straight, walking with confidence, so you make a safe assumption that he’s okay.

None of the men’s cuffs or shackles are removed, but thick rope is tied on top of it, around the wrist and looped around the waist, tying them to the stake. The cuffs are special grade - high tech Avengers vibranium - and they can be retrieved later once the fire burns out.

“Any last words?” You ask, more for tradition than whether or not you actually care.

They look scared, obviously not expecting their fate to look anything like this. You remember seeing Bucky tackle one of them in the facility, prying his mouth open to rip out a tooth, or what looked like a tooth, like a dog caught eating something it wasn’t supposed to. A cyanide pill.

Silence comes from them, except for one of them, “Hail Hydra!” He yells, as if that cowardly and pathetic phrase would change anything.

With a raise of your hand, seemingly with no effort, you wave it and the stakes all begin to rise up in flames. There’s nothing to spark, no twigs, no gasoline, nothing, and Bucky watches as the flames rise, growing stronger as they engulf the five men. They begin to scream, and Bucky looks over at you, as if to confirm you didn’t bring gasoline or something with you, and he sees a smile slowly grow on your lips.

They haven’t stopped screaming; they’re still alive when you turn and begin to walk back the way everyone came. Bucky follows, and eventually Sam and Sharon do, too, the other agents staying behind until the end to retrieve the cuffs and shackles that will survive the fire.

“So, now what?” Sharon asks, the air quieter as the screams have slowly stopped in the distance.

I can’t imagine what kind of paperwork follows this, “Back to the tower.” Sam responds.

“The coven’s only a short walk from here.” You say, not needing to elaborate much more. The men have been caught and brought to justice, but you still have a broken, battered, and beaten down coven to fix.

A friend of yours was meant to go by and retrieve the… bodies. Which you’re grateful for. But magic won’t help you fix the walls, the floors, mop the blood, or find other witches in need of an escape and a place to improve and master their powers. You have a lot of work to do.

As the view of the jet gets closer, you prepare to bid your goodbyes to the Avengers, your thank you’s as well. Regardless of your attitude towards them before, you couldn’t have done this without them.

A metal hand engulfs yours, pulling you back a bit as Sam and Sharon continue on.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky’s warm and gentle voice floods your ears, hand still in yours.

“You guys have been more than enough help, now, really.” You try to tell him, but he has none of it.

“You may be tough, but you can’t fix up that house by yourself,” He tells you, “I can be pretty handy, fixed up a few things back in my day.” A soft smile grows on his face.

You glance over his shoulder as Sam and Sharon wait by the entrance of the jet, “Don’t you have to go back?”

“They won’t miss me.” He tells you, not even looking back to confirm with his teammates, hand dropping to run it through his hair.

You giggle at him, before giving him a shy nod in answer to his offer to help you fix up your big house.

“I’m going to hang out here for a few days.” He yells over his shoulder.

“We figured.” Sam calls out, and Sharon throws you a wave as they board the jet, the opening close after them.

“Lead the way?” Bucky offers you, taking your hand once more, interlocking the fingers this time.

And so the two of you are off, one of your hands still clutching the umbrella, holding it above your head, and the other hand interlaced with the one of a handsome and kind super soldier. This wasn’t the way Bucky expected the last two days to transpire, but he’s glad they led to holding the hand of a very pretty witch.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x witch!reader #marvel #bucky oneshot #love me some magic #also if anyone watches ahs... hmu i love it #ive watched all of them except cult and im currently rewatching freak show rn

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danideservedbetter · 3 years ago

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Day 7, 8, 9, and 10 / Elaboration

Hey y’all! I said yesterday I would elaborate a little more on what my doctor’s visit yesterday told me, and here I am to do just that! I meant to yesterday, honestly, but by the time I got home my medicine had worn off and that wasn’t looking very likely ��😅 But regardless!!! Here is what my results look like and honestly? These things probably have been affecting my sleeping disorder to a degree I’d previously disregarded without detailed info I’ve gotten from these tests.

Full write up under the cut!

—I got two major tests done, blood work and a genetics test. Back in my hometown the nurses couldn’t even figure out how to open the damn swab, but technology here managed to map out my entire DNA sequence which is utterly NUTS to me.

—My body is deficient in almost every important vitamin known to mankind, which makes sense because my diet is not… the best 😅 So, I started on several (SEVERAL) supplements to start out.

—I say start out because it’s very likely that I’ll be taking vitamin C and some liver enzyme through an IV once a month. A younger me might’ve thought something like this was scary, but at this point I’m so desperate to be healthy that getting nutrients drip fed into my system for them to work quicker sounds just fine to me.

—Other than that it’s normal lifestyle stuff. Eat more fruits and vegetables (I’ve been eating olives by the can for like days and I intend to buy fresh fruit packets for breakfast whenever I can afford them) as well as staying more active— which I DEFINITELY have been since I moved closer to New Orleans, in Louisiana proper where my dad lives.

But enough of the boring medicinal stuff. I’m sure you guys are much more interested in the whys— is there a reason my hypersomnia is so bad? Is there a deeper explanation than “lack of vitamins bad and you should feel bad”?

Well, yeah. YES. The genetics test revealed a metric fuckton to say the least 😂😂😂 but the most important was what kinds of diseases I’m predisposed to or how my body can process certain types of hormones/enzymes/proteins. Things like why caffeine won’t work for me (my body processes it very fast but not very thoroughly) or my metabolism being the strongest recorded genotype (which is why it’s been so hard to gain weight). Below, I’ll go into detail about stuff my new general doctor’s in-office geneticist (I still can’t believe that’s a thing I’m typing) has revealed about my disorder.

Naturally, this is specific to me because of my parents and our family lines. Maybe if you see info pertinent to yourself, looking into genetic mapping may be a good idea for you?

We are pretty confident that I have Idiopathic Hypersomnia. The reason for this is that a tiny link has been found between individuals who contracted mononucleosis in their childhood and adolescence and individuals who fell within the sleep cycles indicating IH. Now, IH will be genetic sometimes, but considering I’ve tracked my disorder to starting around 14, the same year I contracted Mono, the coincidence definitely doesn’t seem like… well, a coincidence. My blood test shows that I do in fact have the antibodies in my system, and they’re doing something… odd.

The geneticist found some “active” antibodies. Well, not some, really 😅 Basically, she’s surmised that these antibodies have a hair-trigger response and can react to any given environmental factor (stress, hunger, etc.) to the point where they activate as if they think they’re **fighting off a virus that’s been out of my system for ten years.** Of course this takes up an inordinate amount of energy, which is her hypothesis as to why my hypersomnia is so random and varies in intensity. The goal for this summer is flushing these antibodies out of my system.

My previous neurologist tried out a couple stimulants and then shit insurance prevented me from trying any others. So I’m stuck on something traditionally prescribed for adhd. A narcotic. *However* since my body is severely dysfunctional in general, the way I describe it is I basically have to induce a high to stay awake and function normally. We want to eventually get me off of these kinds of drugs, of course, since prolonged exposure weakens their effects and they’re highly addictive.

Another in credibly interesting thing we found is that I'm lacking in three major hormones. However, it's not because I don't produce them. I've never identified with symptoms of depression (anxiety, certainly, but not depression) yet for most of my life my childhood general practitioner insisted I had it. Well, the geneticist found that while I'm lacking in serotonin, dopamine, and melatonin, which yes are the two major mood enhancers and then the hormone that induces sleep, it's not because I can't produce them. It's because my neural transmitters are so damaged from a less-than-good diet and years of exhaustion that they simply can't process them. Just as the antibodies can have a hair-trigger response to environmental factors, so too can these processors. Simple things like a good meal, my high from my stimulants, or even micro dopamine shots from getting things done can activate the transmitters. Another thing on the docket for the summer is fixing these permanently with treatments of vitamins and supplements.

My stimulants have caused appetite issues, unfortunately, and that plus Covid at the beginning of this year caused me to get down to my lowest recorded weight ever, 94 pounds, which I haven't weighed since before I hit my final growth spurt way back in middle school. My dad does physical labor (he's a contractor who frames houses in the humid heat of the Deep South lol) so he's used to feeling tired. When he caught Covid, he said that he'd never felt as tired, drained, or out of it in his entire life. He never gets sick and hardly goes to the doctor and NEVER takes off work because of health, but in his last few weeks before full recovery he had to take off early multiple times. He was floored when he described the brain fog and exhaustion and I told him that I had no idea I even had Covid, because I just thought it was my disorder acting up. It was only when my grandmother started feeling tired that we got tested and we tested positive.

All that said, we think that there's hope for a future for me. She said that while there's no cure for IH, the cause that I have may can be mitigated by changes in exercise, diet, routine, and medication,to the point where I may mitigate symptoms of my disorder entirely. I'm still setting up appointments with a new neurologist here in the city, though, because technology is of course more advanced here.

And again, taking all of this into consideration, while it was looking likelier by the day, we've both agreed that I'll be here in the city 'til New Years. Which means no school this semester, but if I can go back in spring at more than 20% functionality and maybe succeed, I'm perfectly fine having to remain on break.

However, another good update: I weigh 103 pounds! I'm steadily gaining weight-- which means the other medication, the one for my appetite, is working as it should and as long as I stay on-track I should reach my goal of 120 by the end of the year as well.

So, yeah! That's what it's looking like. I have another appointment to go more in depth with the results tomorrow, but for now I'm planning out my week since I decided to let myself rest all last week. I'd love to finish helping out for our current podfic, ACTUALLY start the damn 100 Theme Challenge (LOL), finish betaing something that's been on hold for months, properly reconnect with our discord, catch up on all the media I fell behind on, clean my damn room, and establish a budget for this week on what I can buy. A more specific plan for today will follow, but til then, I hope this gives everyone some insight on what I'm looking at and how I'm gonna try to fix it.

Xoxo

Dani

#idiopathic hypersomnia #TW: weight #TW: anxiety/depression mention #health post #genetics

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 4 years ago

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Don’t Leave - Cardinal Copia (Papa Emeritus IV)

This one is also based on dream I had.

My dream was that I was part of the church/ministry/clergy/whatthefuckever and I had to move to either France or Virginia (idk). I didn’t wanna go obviously and told Copia about it. I don’t remember him having that much of a reaction lol. But for the sake of fiction, he did. I moved away in my dream unfortunately, but I’ll make this have a happy ending.😇

Enjoy my subconscious!

~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone in the church gasped. Some cried out, some sobbed. But it was most of the same. The news had came.

Papa Nihil was dead.

We were already accepting the new Papa Emeritus the 4th. Everyone loved the Cardinal anyway. But everyone loved Papa Nihil, he was a soft spot for most people. Some members of the church even knew him when he was the first to run the church.

It was a sad day.

On top of that, I had just found out this morning that my parents and I were to move to a different state.

It seemed like it was going to be a week full of bad days.

I tried not to sob when I got dressed for mass this morning. I had no idea what I’d do without this church. It was like a second home to me.

I’d volunteer whenever I could to help the Ministry out. I’m so active in the church that even the Ghouls from the band project knew me! I would’ve become a true member of the church if it wasn’t for my parents.

It’s not like they didn’t approve, but they just needed me.

I was their only child. I wouldn’t want them to think I was leaving them. I couldn’t.

On the other hand, the Ministry has reached out to me and asked if I wanted to become a Sister of Sin multiple times. They love my enthusiasm and think I have the potential to so even more. Sister Imperator actually thinks very highly of me. And Papa Emeritus III, when he was alive, actually sought me out to see if I wanted to join the band (and maybe for other reasons of his own).

I wanted to...I really wanted to. It was even harder to turn down the Cardinal when he asked as well. I just knew my parents needed me.

Coming to this mass knowing it would be my last really hurt, then hearing the news about Nihil...I don’t know how I’ll be able to tell everyone that I have to leave.

After the service, I saw Sister Imperator in the distance, hugging a few people. They were probably giving her their condolences since everyone knew how much they cared for each other.

I trudged over to her sorrowfully, almost hoping that she would be too busy to talk to me. But the universe just had it out for me today, and she quickly noticed how pitiful I looked.

She quickly brought me into a loving embrace, much like a mother’s. I was quickly brought to tears when I thought that this would probably be the last hugging Sister.

“I’m so sorry, Sister.” I cried.

It had a double meaning for me, obviously. I was so sorry about Papa Nihil dying, but I was sorry about having to leave. But she didn’t know the other meaning yet.

“He lived a good life, Y/N.” She whispered, rubbing my back soothingly.

I pulled away from her and scratched the back of my head nervously, avoiding her eyes.

She sighed. “That’s not the only reason you’re sorry. What’s happened?”

“I’m...I’m moving away.” I choked out. Sister Imperator immediately frowned and gave me a sad look. “My parents told me this morning. We leave in two days.”

She quickly pulled me back into a hug. I held on tightly, trying to keep myself from breaking down in front of everyone. “Have you told Cardinal yet?”

I froze. That was the thing I was dreading the most...

I shook my head no and I could feel her loosing her grip on me. She pulled away from the hug, tears brimming her eyes, making me feel guilty. “He’s going to be so devastated. He really has taken a liking to you, dear.” She said, making me feel even more guilty.

I sighed. “I know...it’s just so hard knowing that he’ll be so sad.” I wiped a stray tear that was rolling down my cheek.

Sister brought her hand up and caressed my cheek, smiling sadly. “It has to be done, sweetie. Ripping off the band-aid.”

I nodded and placed my hand above hers. She quickly pointed out Cardinal Copia, now named Papa Emeritus IV, in the group of people and encouraged me to walk over to him.

I nervously approached him, seeing his eyes brighten with joy as he noticed me.

Damn...

“Hey, Cop- uh, Papa.” I stutter. I always called him Copia, but now he’s much more higher up now, taking on the role of Papa Emeritus now.

Copia smiled and shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to he so formal with me, dolcezza. Just because I’m Papa now doesn’t mean you have to call me that.” He told me in his endearing Italian accent.

Oh lucifer, I’m gonna miss him...

“I, uh, need to talk to you.” I said, and he gestured for me to continue speaking. But I looked around nervously at all the people close by, and he quickly realized that I meant in private.

He guided me over to the corner of the room, away from the group. “Now, what is it, cara mia?”

Come on, Y/N. Just like ripping off a band-aid...

“Copia...I’m moving away...in two days.”

My words hung in the air with a bitter silence. Nervousness filled me to the brim when he looked like he didn’t even hear me at first, so afraid that I’d have to repeat myself. The nervousness quickly turned into anxiety when his face finally contorted from shock to a frown. He didn’t say anything. Not even a sigh of displeasure, but his eyes never met mine. But if they did, they would be filled with heartache.

I was stunned into silence when Copia quickly walked off, not even saying so much as a goodbye. He pushed past all the people (and Ghouls), heading to his new office in the church.

“Y/N?” A warm hand was placed on my shoulder, Sister’s hand.

“He didn’t even say anything. He just...left.” I reached up and covered my mouth to muffle the hiccups caused by trying not to cry this whole morning, but a few escaped the sound barrier that my hand caused and reached Sister’s ears.

“Go find him.”

I turned around and looked at Sister Imperator in shock. “Find him? He couldn’t even look at me!”

“He’s in shock, dear. He probably just needs a few minutes to process it. Go to his office after everyone leaves. That’ll be enough time to mull his over. And if he won’t see you, I’ll go into that silly office of his and smack him in the head.”

I laugh tearfully. I love this woman. “Okay.” I agreed.

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, you might want to go say goodbye to everyone else.”

I sigh and look over to the group of people (+Ghouls) that I’ve made friends with and grew to care about for years now. This won’t be easy either...

After about a half hour of goodbyes, hugs, and more tears (and some sorrowful mewling from some of the Ghouls), everyone started to trickle off. Heading back home, going about their lives the same way it’s always been for them.

When I get home, I’ll have to start packing my life away into cardboard boxes.

I shook the thought away quickly.

It was eerily quiet in the church now the everyone headed out. It was time for me to confront Copia...again.

I walked out of the chapel and into the great foyer of the church, looking up to see the stained glass murals of all the previous Papas embedded into the wall. The sun shining on the glass from the outside making the hall glow in certain colors of the memorial pieces.

I’m gonna miss this place.

I reach the end of the hall where Copia’s office was. I quietly sigh and rap my knuckles against the wooden door. I heard a faint, “Who is it?”

“Copia...it’s me.”

There was no response, but I waited at the door.

“I want to talk to you, Copia...please.” I almost whined, leaning my head against the door.

I quickly took a couple steps back when I started to hear footsteps approach, quickly opening the door to reveal Copia. He was out of his Anti-pope robes and into his regular suit, his Papa paint almost completely off, but it still looked smudged in places.

If only he used the makeup remover wipes I brought him...

I stepped into the office, turned around and closed the door. Turning back, Copia was back at his desk. He was sitting on the desk top, his right leg swinging slightly, looking at me expectantly. “Well?” He said.

“Copia, I-”

“It’s Papa.” He deadpanned.

I sighed in frustration. “I never wanted this to happen, Copia.”

“Then why? Why are you choosing to move?”

“I...” I tried holding back tears, making my eyes burn. “It’s my parents...”

“Your parents are making you move?” He laughed bitterly. “I thought you were a grown woman who could make decisions for herself?”

I looked down, gravity forcing the tears out of my eyes, landing on the floor with muted thud.

I heard Copia sigh. The desk creaked slightly when he stood up from it, hearing his footsteps get closer until he was right in front of me.

He tucked his pointer finger under my chin and gently raised my head, making me look into his eyes that seemed regretful.

“Why are you moving, cara mia?” He asked softly.

“I don’t want my parents to think I abandoned them.” I whimpered.

“Oh, mia dolce, your parents aren’t going to think you abandoned them if you wanted to stay.” Copia cooed, now caressed my hair. “All the times you said you couldn’t join us, was it because of your parents?”

I reluctantly nodded. “They...they need me.”

“Come on.” Copia suddenly started pulling me towards the office telephone. “Call them. Tell them what you really feel.”

I blushed and started panicking. “W-what? N-no! I can’t do that!”

He sighed, and started dialing my parents’ phone number. “I know you parents, cara mia. They’ll understand. Trust me.” He said.

I was panicked as the phone rang, but seeing how confident Copia was about my parents made me feel a little less stressed. Him holding my hand the entire time helped too.

“Hello?” The cheery voice of my mom answered.

“M-mom?” My voice trembled.

“Oh hi, dear! We were just packing! Are you still at the church?”

I sigh, here goes. “Mom, I...I don’t want to move. I want to stay here. I love it here so much, and...I want to join the church! I want to become a member...are you mad?”

I flinched when my mom laughed loudly into the phone, making me furrow my eyebrows. “Honey, I was wondering when you were gonna break!”

“W-what?”

“You don’t think I know my own child? I knew you were going to stay at that church. Your father and I actually made a bet to see how long you’d put up with all this moving shit!” She laughed again.

“Wait...so, you’re not mad?” I asked, still shocked.

“Of course not, sweetie! I know how much that church makes you happy. All we want is for you to be happy, hon.”

“I thought you needed me.”

“Oh sweetheart, we’ll always need you. But if you’re happy, then we’re happy. We knew you weren’t gonna stay with us forever! You have a life too, as well as us. Plus, we’re not 90 year old people who need someone to carry us every time we need to take a shit! We can take care of ourselves.”

I looked over to Copia with a grin, and he smiled back softly and mouthed, “I told you so.”

“Now, come home and help us pack up all out shit!” My mom said with a laugh and hung up.

As soon as she hung up, I squealed in joy and jumped into Copia’s arms. He staggered back by sudden force of my happiness, but he laughed breathlessly. “Didn’t I say to trust me?” He said as he pulled away, looking at me with a goofy grin.

I don’t know what came over me, but I reached out and brought his face down to mine, shocking him still when I pushed my lips up against his.

I quickly realized what I was doing and pulled away. “Uh...I’m so sorry! I don’t-”

Copia cut me off mid-sentence, bringing me into another spur of the moment kiss.

I immediately relaxed and reciprocated his kiss, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his slicked back hair and him bringing his arms to wrap around my waist to pull me closer. I smile into the kiss, feeling his mustache tickle at my sensitive skin.

This moment was perfect.

We both pulled away. The heat of moment taking our breath away, making us both take deep inhales to get oxygen rushing to the brain.

“Cara mia, I’ve waited for this moment for so long.” Copia smiled.

I let him know that I felt the same way by giving him another peck on the lips. “Looks like you’re stuck with me from now on.” I grinned.

“That is not something to feel bad about, mia dolce.”

“Not at all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Don’t really know how churches of Satan go about having services if they even have them, but in my dream we were in a regular looking church soooo...

What I actually saw in my dream: Copia not having a reaction to me leaving (what a heartless bastard) and the stained glass murals to the Papas.

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfiction #cardinal copia #cardinal copia fanfiction #i love my dreams

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aiviloti · 4 years ago

Photo

my 2020 fic writer wrap-up!!

this is going to be incredibly long (a total of 1.1k lmao) so imma put a cut here, but basically thank you for being here all throughout my 2020! i appreciate you all very much <3

fav kind of fic to write:

i love writing about mutual pining slow burn process of getting together but i have NEVER WRITTEN ONE IN MY LIFE so i hope to change that in 2021

in 2020 i discovered??? humour??? so i enjoy writing about that and when people tell me i’ve succeeded in making them laugh it’s all 😳😳😳 for me

hardest fic to write but also most proud of:

to write you a song was a fic i struggled with from all of april to june which is very long?? to me??? considering i usually sit down and write things in one seating. fully fleshed ideas don’t usually take me thaaaaaat long to crunch out, but for some reason i struggled bad with this bc I really didn’t know where i was going w it lol

LA LA LAND gets an honorary mention of it’s own simply because it was 44k, and it took me all of july-september, but it’s something i still am proud of! to show how difficult it was to write/plot here’s the spreadsheet i had to use to keep track of the scenes and the chapters djkgfsjdfkjhgd

Shout out to kiroiimye , sweet , sirius and krypt for keeping my sanity intact

easiest fic to write:

this genshin impact fic: The Land Favoured by the Wind but its because ive been thinking about this idea for more than a month lol so the actual writing and editing took me less than 3 hours

there were several others too, bc ideas then to hook themselves to me then refuse to let go fjshlfgdfsg

fav fic to write:

Most definitely this sakuatsu monstrosity here by the name of Miya Atsumu's unwavering love for Sakusa Kiyoomi and an unholy amount of terrible food analogies that should not have the right to Exist lol, I only came up with the idea of Atsumu asking Osamu how to make friends bc I was friendship pining for someone at the time and then proceeded to write the entirety of it in a feverish daze! It’s as of rn my top hit / kudoed / bookmarked fic on ao3 and man, thanks for liking this as much as i did :’D

writing sequence:

i have to write from start to finish lmao i cant move on if the fic isnt chronological? the only exception was la la land bc it was too long and i had help from the spreadsheet so i alr knew where i was going i just had to write it down dfhdsfksfksdfhjg

deleting works:

the only fics i remember deleting are both first chapters of a multichap, bc i dont like having unfinished pieces on ao3, and far less if im not sure if ill finish them/if i dont know where im going w it!

if it’s dark history of shit 15 year old me wrote imma keep it there! it is an archive after all. go on, judge my fics from 5 years ago ahahahaha

best writing advice:

not a general thing and might just apply tome, but i tend to write in very convoluted ways and squish a lot in my sentences, or add to many unnecessary commas, so i received advice recently about being more mindful of the pacing and it’s helped me a lot!

worst writing advice:

none at the top of my head djgfkdsjfh if it’s bs to me i just forget it entirelyyyy

collab:

@actuallyasweetpotato (also aforementioned sweet) and i did a thing for bokuaka week!!!! you can find it here: under my breath and into your scarf

wips:

9 unfinished zine pieces, 3 commissions, 1 exchange piece, about 10 or so other things

fav story of another writer:

favourite things

manly man falls for manliest man krbk fic!!!

gently, like a winter wind iwaoi birthday fic

sunchaser krbk fic

JUNO atsuhina fic

best review:

dude i cried

and shoutout to tien , sirius for fan art, fan comics, fan animatics of fics ive written, and shoutout to akemiiiii for this song they wrote i am eternaally grateful

worst review:

no negativity today!

prequel/sequel to other people’s fics:

none at the top of my head hm, but if anything probably any of kiro skk stuff

do i reread my stuff:

yes, but only if they’re old enough for me to go “it’s okay even if i dont like it bc this is old”

published:

hopefully! even though i do take part in zines and i guess they already have been published in a broad sense

fav/least fav chara to write:

no one at the top of my head! it’s instinctive for me to go ahead and think about character motives whenever i come across them, so if i ever write about someone, i usually just put my spin/interpretation of a character in a way that i can comprehend. the pros of this is i can write about many people, and the downside is that these characterisations can come off as out of character to anyone who doesn’t agree w me hehe

deadlines or goals:

if it’s a oneshot that’s under 3k i usually aim to have it done within 24 hours of beginning the fic. even tho i rarely succeed, having that as a goal usually pushes me to get it done faster than i would have if i had no goal altogether! if it’s anything long i aim for 1k a day, tho rn all my deadlines are zine deadlines and on top of that there’s uni, so to say im not stressing about writing would be a lie LOL

fav writers: (am too shy to tag but i swear these people are literal gods)

chonideno (mag): tumblr | twitter | ao3

batman (teesta): twitter | ao3

maplefudge (raei): tumblr | twitter | ao3

trope never written, would like to try:

aforementioned SLOWBURN MUTUAL PINING ANGST W A HAPPY ENDING GETTING TOGETHER!!!

but also royalty au

trope you will never write:

haha loads

how long have you been a writer:

began writing around may of 2014!! it was a horrible piece but im glad i started somewhere

influences:

chonideno/mag is one! maggie stiefvater who wrote the raven boys is also one, among many others

hardest part of writing:

writing action? writing things that are happening right now, describing people talking, eating

easiest part of writing:

descriptions of people, places, feelings. internal monologues, the like

best part of writing:

sharing how i perceive the world w other people, and discovering other people agree

wip sneak peek:

cw: hanahaki, falling out of love

this was written in a friend’s dms lmao this is why i sound like this

something unique i bring to all my stories

i had a revelation the other day after talking to all my friends and realised i have really pretentious titles

IF YOU’RE HERE

did you know the wc of this thing is 1k words? idk why you stuck through all of that but thank you. i’ll keep writing in 2021, and all the years after that, and i hope i’ll find you doing things you love too :)

#liv rambles #sorry i am incapable of shutting the fuck up :relieved:#i will continue to not shut the fuck up in 2021 see yall there

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

Note

i have been meaning to say this for awhile but never really got the chance to but ive seen a couple of anon asks here that says you were ~dragging~ the angst for way too long and that it’s been getting annoying how reader seems like she’s not getting past her insecurities especially towards her sister

so let me just say this; regarding the angst, to be honest with you it wasn’t dragged on at all. in fact, i think a year is too fast for them to move forward. granted, the catalyst was the realisation that atsumu is losing reader. for real this time. he’s realising that he cannot subconsciously keep on keeping an eye on her or still have her by his side along his brother.

onto the reader, i don’t know what you guys are reading but all throughout the series which has literally more than 200 pages (ebook style) i can be sure that it’s less than a page wherein reader’s insecurity for mika has been really outwardly mentioned. as for her insecurities in general, that much is a given. no, it doesn’t matter if she’s a teenager who is trying her best not to have her emotions rule her.

this ones deeper than that. y’all gotta realise that everyone around reader (sans her family) has always made her feel invisible and lesser than. it doesn’t matter where they are or who they’re with. she’s always labelled as someone who’s just never enough compared to both her sister and her younger brother even. ever since they were kids. does anyone realise how damaging that is to anyone’s psyche? or is it just me??? it was always drilled into her mind that what she’s good at is studying, lol. and she doesn’t even believe that that’s like... a super strength to her character. she just thought that she just happened to be good at it, nothing special. now, the incident happened and she heard from her very first love. that she’s got nothing going on for her except her brain. LITERALLY in front of her. mind you, this is the same person who’s always made her feel seen and had always made her feel like she belongs. then realising that he, too, thought that she’s really just plain and boring? well, isn’t that something? plus, her trust being broken way too many times. even by people who she gave everything to.

all of these factors, plus others combined. i’d say you handled this very realistically. in fact, there were many instances where reader feels as though she’s enough and what she’s doing is enough but of course, in the journey of loving and accepting yourself, there’s always going to be setbacks. people making you feel small and boring ever since you were a kid, reader will always have that nagging feeling of insecurity in the back of her mind.

even when atsumu started treating her like theyre buddy buddy without ever apologising and her thinking that ‘this is enough’ she still had her reservations and doubts. as she should! what would y’all feel if someone who’s took every opportunity to hurt you again and again. to humiliate you. to trample over your feelings as if they’re nothing. started to act as if that rift between the two of you never happened? and her knowing that no matter what happens from this point onwards, atsumu and her will never go back to the way they once were? whewwww

it makes reader human. the way she acts and the way she’s processing things right now, makes her all the more human. she might be strong and she might present herself to be that type to never be knocked down by anything but she’s got her limits too. she’s got her bad days too. and sometimes, no matter how much you convince yourself that you’re getting better, that nagging feeling of dark thoughts will still linger in the back of your mind. that’s how it goes. because loving and accepting yourself is not just all about forgetting everything that knocks you down, it’s also getting up whenever those bad thoughts and days seem to be getting better of you. and that’s what reader has been doing all this time.

she deserves all those little factors that made her the way she is all throughout this series. because it couldn’t be more realistic to have all the what-ifs, what couldve been, what could be, etc be placed and scattered throughout her healing(???) process.

im p sure i missed a lot of points to say but id say this is still a pretty good and convincing thought LMAOO - 🎨

to be honest, i was also pissed, but had to step back. as mentioned before, this story has a bit of me - because they were my experiences growing up, getting so used to either being invisible, the second fiddle, or as the inferior sibling. it's numb me to the point that i've become so pessimistic and cynical.

nonetheless, i have to respect that everyone is each to their own opinion. yet at the same time, it's not fair to disregard the fact that there are people like reader who have a high threshold for pain, saint-like presence, or are just plain masochists.

as for the angst, this is exactly the kind of angst i really like reading - where you really see glimpse of what a certain pain can do to someone, emotionally and psychologically. yes, i do love the 'they don't love me back' trope, but on a deeper level? that's just *chef's kiss* nothing hurts more if you actually get to feel what they're feeling, which is why i chose to write my angst that way :>

#alicemitch09 answers #paint anon #on the defense of reader

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emybain · 5 years ago

Note

For the kiss prompts. Maybe 42 or 3 for nodrian💙

why not both hehe. no joke ive been trying to post this for two days now. i finished it the other night but i just keep forgetting to post lol. these are NOT connected in any way and they are both post supernova. The first one is a little aged up and fair warning, it’s a bit on the pg-13 side (im so sorry to all my cinnamon followers just LOOK AWAY)

3-a breathy demand:”kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond

42-distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead

ao3

Nova peeked into the art studio of Adrian’s town house, pushing the door open enough so she could see him. Yep. He was still at his easel. At least he had chosen to pull up a barstool instead of continuing to stand; he had been painting for hours.

Times like this weren’t uncommon. For both of them. It was normal for them to not see one another for hours whenever Nova came over or vice versa, and there was nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, it was just comforting to be in each other’s presence. And it wasn’t like how they used to be, co-depending on one another after the supernova and inseparable. No, after a mutual decision to give one another a break, here they were four years later, going on a stable three years together. They were better now, after both receiving much needed therapy and time to think over everything. It wasn’t easy, especially for Nova, who felt as though she had no one to go to after the supernova, but it gradually got more attainable.

Except for now, when Nova was getting an itch for, well…special attention, and she hadn’t seen Adrian since their early dinner. Before he had let her know he was going to go work on a project, she was going to subtly suggest they extend their date night a couple hours. It was fine, Nova was fine. She figured he would only disappear for a little while and rejoin her in the living room, where she decided to pick up a book from his bookcase. Except he didn’t. So now she had to take things into her own hands.

“Hey, Babe,” she greeted softly, entering the room slowly. Sometimes, he got so caught up in his work that he didn’t notice Nova until she touched him, which, based on past occurrences, messed him up. “I brought you some water.”

She stepped into his line of sight and set the glass down on the small table beside him. He didn’t respond, though from the tilt of his head, she could tell he heard her. Sigh.

“You’ve been working really hard, you know. Maybe it’s time for a break?” She took a step toward him, biting her lip and bringing her hand up to the cotton button down she was wearing, fingering the top button. He grunted in response, quietly thanking her for the water. Nova rolled her eyes. Come on. She knew she got like this, too, but tonight, she decided it was ridiculous. She wanted attention, damn it.

Walking behind him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned down. He tensed at first, but relaxed just as quickly. He even turned his head around and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. Well, it was something.

“Come to bed,” she murmured in his ear, lips brushing against the top. “I miss you.” To prove it, she kissed behind his ear. She felt him stiffen again, even as he continued painting. Her lips trailed down his neck, holding back a smile.

“I’ll come in a little bit.” The satisfaction she got from his shaky voice was delicious. “Let me just finish this one section and I’ll be there, okay?”

Oh, that wouldn’t do. He cursed when she nipped at the hollow in his throat, making sure her hair hung over to expose her neck. Just to tease him. “Why not now, though?” she hummed against his skin, deepening every kiss. His name escaped from her mouth in a sigh, a desperate need. She couldn’t help herself.

“Shit, Nova.” He leaned back a little, much to her delight, as her hands went up his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. She stopped her caresses for a moment to blink at him innocently. A warm feeling washed over her at how dark his eyes were, a deeper brown than usual. They were breathtaking.

Nova wiped at a dried paint spot on his cheek. “What?”

He let out a long sigh, took one look at the unfinished painting, and set down his supplies. Nova grinned. She moved to sit in his lap, not really caring where she got attention as long as she just got it. But Adrian had other plans.

Nova screeched as he stood suddenly and scooped her up into his arms. Their laughter echoed down the dark hallway and into Adrian’s bedroom, where it continued well into the night.

__________

They were the only ones in the training hall, save for a few runners or weightlifters with earbuds in. Nova ducked as Adrian threw a punch at her, rolling to her left and pouncing back up, landing a kick to his side. He grimaced. Nova would’ve felt bad, except he had been the one to suggest a quick hand-to-hand combat fight. She pushed her sweaty bangs out of her eyes. Feeling generous, she took a few steps back to give Adrian a moment to collect himself. His eyes followed her as she circled him, knees bent at the ready. When he smirked at her and motioned her forward, she scrunched her face up.

With a battle cry impressive enough for long-dead gods, she charged him. He blocked her blow and grabbed her forearm, twisting her around to hold her in a choke-hold. But Nova saw it coming. She rammed her heel into his foot, causing him to let her go. Nova rolled away, landing in a crouch. While he was distracted, she swept her leg out, knocking him to the ground. Before he could get back up, she had him pinned down, holding his wrists down with her knees.

They were both breathing hard, staring at one another in silence. A dull pain rose up in Nova’s side where Adrian had got her earlier. It was worsening slowly, no doubt forming into a nasty bruise. A fight less than ten minutes had stolen all of her energy.

“I win.” She grinned at him, leaning over and patting his cheek with a gloved hand. Ever since the supernova a few months ago, Nova made an effort to wear gloves whenever she was training with another prodigy. Adrian was the only one who said she didn’t have to around him, that he trusted her, but they still helped her feel more at ease. The rest of her team was still wary around her, and Nova only wanted them to be more comfortable. Sure she could still knock them out with any skin contact, but her hands were her biggest weapon. She hadn’t even been on patrols with them since the supernova, choosing instead to do jobs around headquarters. Just something to keep her busy, and to show the Renegades that she was on their side, for real this time. Some of her jobs may have been made up, like going to bother the Council about anything she thought would help in the process of transitioning into a more democratic government. It was a very, very slow process, but at least she was beginning to see progress. See what her father had envisioned so many years ago.

Adrian interrupted her thoughts by managing to flip them over. Nova’s back hit the foam mat, air rushing out of her body. He held both of her arms over her head with one of his. “No, I think I do.”

“Asshole,” she grumbled, squirming under his weight that only seemed to get heavier the more she moved. “That doesn’t count.”

Her heart raced as he brought his head closer, eyebrows raised. She could smell his cologne, that wonderful pine scent. She chastised herself for breathing in just a little deeper so she could catch more of that intoxicating fragrance. Tilted her head a bit to the side to avoid his intense gaze. Because, well, they were broken up. Nova knew they needed it, that choosing to continue a relationship after what happened would only end in flames. Much as she hated to admit it, it was unhealthy. Adrian had been the first person to truly see Nova for who she was instead of just a pawn on the chessboard or a lie or whatever the media liked to come up with every morning after they had their coffee. He understood her and her trauma. To just…let him go like that…was agonizing. But she knew it was only temporary, that they still both harbored deep feelings for one another. Maybe in a few months and after dozens of therapy appointments, they would be able to talk about getting back together. At least now, after a couple months of coming to terms with the break up, she could handle being alone with him again. Being friends, laughing and spending time together. Well, for the most part.

To put things simply, Nova was very thankful at that moment that the Council had changed the rule that uniforms are mandatory even in the training hall. And she was very thankful that Adrian had discarded his shirt two minutes into their five mile run earlier that morning.

“Someone’s just bitter they owe me breakfast.” Nova scoffed, remembering their deal earlier. She jumped suddenly, eyes widening at his hand on her cheek, caressing it. His brows were furrowed. “I didn’t know I got your face. I’m sorry about that.”

Holding her breath, Nova placed her hand over his. He met her eyes and blinked. “It’s fine. Probably just from the mat.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.

She definitely saw his eyes dip down and focus on her lips for a moment; she couldn’t help but do the same. Somehow, all of her weaknesses regarding him, weaknesses that she had been suppressing for months, were all laid out in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to just…just…

“Kiss me,” she breathed, only slightly noticing how demanding she sounded in that moment.

He stilled. “Nova, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yet his voice was gruff. Yet he didn’t move from his position over her.

“It’s not.” She licked her lips.

His eyes softened and he bent his head down. Nova raised hers up greedily to meet him. It had been an eternity since she had tasted his soft lips.

But just as their lips brushed, sending a current of electricity down Nova’s spine, Adrian was gone.

Nova sat up and could only watch as he walked away, grabbing his shirt and roughly pulling it over his head. He didn’t look back.

#nova artino #adrian everhart #ruby tucker #oscar silva #danna bell #narcissa cronin #nodrian #tuckva #osby #danissa #renegades #archenemies #supernova #supernova spoilers #asks #my writing

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dabistits · 5 years ago

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in the blood: connecting the backstories

With the arc concluded and what I imagine is pt 1, the pre-AFO bits, of Tomura’s backstory revealed, I thought I’d finally sum up one of the major points of this plot. Scattered throughout the arc were three major backstories—Himiko, Twice, Tomura—that could use some piecing together. It doesn’t seem like they were chosen at random or were primarily subordinated to good timing, and instead were written because they parallel and reinforce certain themes in Tenko’s past.

Here’s my typical disclaimer that these connections may not have been intentional at all, but, y’know. We’ll pretend Horikoshi is a competent writer and etc. etc. Of course, there’s also the question of what conclusion all these narrative threads points us towards, and I’m chronically afraid of making a wrong prediction so I won’t do that on this post lols (it’s also not 100% clear, which I’ll address). Nevertheless, I think it adds significance to consider Tomura’s past with the addition of framing it through the other two backstories, considering what they say about Quirks, society, and the characters’ internal processes about where they fit in the overall scheme of things.

(note: some screenshots below the cut contain mild gore!)

I. Quirk repression

We encounter this for the first time in the MLA arc through Himiko. Although we’re not privy to Himiko’s thoughts during the flashback, Curious makes an assertion that Redestro later repeats: that Quirks can, to some degree, influence a person’s disposition. Transform elicited in Himiko a desire to drink blood (in order to develop a bond of closeness), which was largely viewed as deviant, and she was pressured to suppress not only her impulse, but her Quirk as well. This idea of Quirk=disposition is also repeated with Tomura, who Redestro asserts is only capable of destruction.

Without being told Himiko’s perspective in the flashbacks, we don’t know how her experience with suppressing her desires went, nor whether she experienced any adverse physical effects from doing so. Tomura, however, is clearly stated (by AFO, so it’s worth taking with a grain of salt) to experience unbearable itchiness whenever he represses his urge to destroy, a sensation which only seems to abate when he uses Decay. So for the moment, the message seems quite clear: suppressing one’s Quirk is akin to suppressing one’s self, and even more drastically, there may be physical consequences to doing so.

On the flip side of Quirk repression, then, there’s Quirk liberation. That’s what the Metahuman Liberation Army is going for, of course, but the three characters discussed here also found relief through their Quirks: Himiko in finally shattering her mask, Twice creating his crime gang, and Tenko eliminating that which he hated. Embracing their Quirks is portrayed as a way in which they achieved not only emotional pleasure and fulfillment, but agency as well—an increase in control over their own lives and fates—finally allowing themselves to do what they were “meant” to. This is, supposedly, a move which empowers oneself.

II. Quirk trauma

But that’s not entirely true.

Just as Quirks can be liberating, they're shown to be harmful when used without restraint, turning against their wielder and instilling suffering. Twice’s clones eventually went out of control and began to fight each other for claim to the original, and Tenko’s Quirk awakening killed his entire family. Both experienced trauma involving the people closest to them, Twice being confronted with “his own” betrayal, while Tenko witnessed the deaths of his family at his own hands—in the aftermath, they’re both left completely and utterly alone, abandoned by those they believed they could rely on, with uncertain recollection about how events actually transpired.

Then it’s no coincidence either that Twice’s and Tomura’s chapters focus on arriving at the truth of their traumas. Twice, after having spent an indeterminate length of time trapped in the uncertainty of his own realness, is forced into confronting his fear of disappearing after Skeptic orders his arms broken; in surviving this, he’s able to confirm that he’s the original Twice, once and for all. Tomura is likewise pushed into recalling his repressed memories (let’s assume right now that they’re the real memories) as his last connections to his family—their hands—are destroyed one by one.

It’s through the discovery of this truth after being confronted with their greatest fears or insecurities that they’re able to embrace the full strength of their Quirks, returning to a default, ‘pre-trauma’ state. Twice is able to create doubles of himself once more, and Tomura becomes able to unleash a stronger version of Decay. While Himiko’s case is much less drastic, the new characteristic of Transform also seems to be linked to her reaffirmation of her ‘truth’ as well. Those ‘truths’ may sound positive or negative, motivated most obviously by self-preservation in Himiko’s case, self-actualization(?) in Tomura’s case, or protective instinct in Twice’s.

Personally, I place a lot of (if not most) importance on Twice’s motivation in this arc, because his past and desires most strongly encapsulate the themes we see repeated across all of these backstories:

III. Alienation and belonging

Perhaps the strongest thread that pervades these three stories (and Spinner’s too, which we have less to go on at the moment) is the feeling of alienation. The four of them found themselves constantly rejected by those around them: Spinner due to prejudice, Twice never getting support nor sympathy after being orphaned, and Himiko and Tenko in particular being denied by their own families, both of them compelled to stifle their own desires, whether it be to pursue her instincts or to voice his dreams. They were positioned as outsiders, set apart from everyone else.

That’s why I believe it’s significant that one of the primary purposes of this arc seems to be to bring the LOV more closely together, from Spinner’s questioning and renewed loyalty, to a central conflict of this arc plot being a rescue (among other schemes from the MLA, of course), to giving the LOV a way out of the aimlessness from the beginning of the arc. Of course, past alienation and present cohesiveness also contrast each other as narrative foils, and this is most clearly exemplified in Twice’s chapters because he’s babey, which more extensively linger on his feelings towards his current situation and friends, who he sees as a remedy to the loneliness of his past.

The other characters haven’t offered the same reflection towards the LOV, but it’s not a stretch to say that the group provides them with something that wider society could not. People who accept Himiko’s “normal,” who enable her to pursue her love (for good or ill); who take Spinner seriously despite being a mutant with a “useless” Quirk; and to some degree, even Tomura seems to have achieved what he once wanted. Tenko was a child who made friends with lonely kids, who wanted to be a hero, presumably to save others, but was rejected by his family at every turn and had no one save him at a time when he needed it most. And even though his life as Shimura Tenko is long gone, Tomura currently finds himself as the leader of a group of outcasts who are looking out for him, fighting through a small army to save one of their own. The irony is poetic.

IV. Tragedy or Agency?

Which begs the question: what do we do with this information and how do we interpret these characters? Are they just cruel and unrepentant villains, or should we sympathize with them as people rejected by a prejudiced society? Really, this arc offers room for both readings.

At one end, we have Himiko and Tomura, who view their decisions to become ‘villains’ as liberatory. Whether or not certain painful events in their lives affected their choices seems to matter very little to them, or perhaps those events were even a blessing for leading to the choices they made. They decided to embrace their natures even if those traits were violent, distrusted, and societally shunned, and they do not consider this eventuality as particularly unfortunate. Himiko rejects Curious’ interpretation of her life as pitiable, and Tomura likewise asserts to himself that he’s untroubled by the deaths of his family. They both represent their pasts as not a tragedy.

On the other hand, we have Twice, whose backstory chapter bears the maxim that also appears on the cover page of vol 24, and thus has the privilege of setting the tone for a major portion of this arc: “All it takes is one bad day.” Twice’s backstory (ironically enough) reads uniquely more self-aware than the others’, both about his own decisions, and about the conditions surrounding him (i.e. how other people’s decisions affected him). He was aware of the way others viewed him and how that caused his alienation—best exemplified by how disposable he was at his workplace—and of his reasons for pursuing a “solution” that only dug a deeper hole.

Thus, we have the “one bad day” part of the narrative. Twice, who was orphaned early on and isolated from his peers, got into a motorcycle accident with one of his firm’s clients. His boss hits him and fires him, leaving Twice aimless until he comes up with the idea to Double himself. Twice’s backstory interprets "one bad day” as a truism about instability, particularly in a society which appears to have few safety nets and a lot of prejudice—essentially, the chapter posits that one incident of bad luck can put someone on a worse path, especially when people act in their own interest instead of in sympathy or aid. Okay. See where this is going?

We’re presented with two narratives here: that ‘bad paths’ are either predetermined by an individual’s disposition and are liberating to embrace, or they are often the result of an individual’s circumstances and influenced by other people. Nature versus nurture. The arc does not definitively come down on either side, so I’ll stick to observations and limit on drawing conclusions.

Tenko’s backstory also fixates on a day. The turning point in his life was the day his parents’ rejection of his aspirations culminated in physical violence from his father, setting off the chain of events that led to Decay’s awakening and killing his family; in the aftermath, he was also further alienated in a busy city where no one stopped to help him until he was conveniently ‘found’ by AFO. The “one bad day” lies in the fact that Tenko was entirely salvageable; neither his hatred nor his fractured relationship with his family were conclusive in a five year old’s state of mind, and they both could have been remedied if they had the chance.

So that leaves us with two different takeaways. Can Tenko be thought of as having taken a turn for a better, more self-actualized existence—a not-tragedy—or was it indeed a set of circumstances that should rightfully be considered unfortunate because it was fixable? The resolution of this arc seems to come down pretty firmly on the side of the first interpretation: by embracing his destructive ‘nature,’ Tomura has awakened the full scope of Decay’s power, subdued the Meta Liberation Army, and gained their resources—he’s more influential than ever before, and he’s put himself at an advantageous position to take down hero society. So, clearly his internal monologue must be self-aware, because the narrative is rewarding him for embracing his purpose.

V. The League of Villains and Self-Destruction

But I do have a caveat to add, and it has to do with self-destruction. I’ve talked about Tomura and self-destruction, but that’s not really just a tendency limited to him. It proliferates in most (if not all?) of the LOV members, in more or less obvious ways. Spinner’s crisis of self-worth and subsequent seclusion was arguably self-destructive, as is Mr. Compress’ tendencies to run away from conflict. These are more metaphorical and without much elaboration yet. On the other hand, for a more literal take, there is Dabi, who burns himself alive whenever he uses his Quirk.

Himiko’s is somewhat a mix of both figurative and literal. Transform lets her take on someone else’s appearance, and she has an obsession with ‘becoming’ her objects of affection; it follows that if taken to the extreme and if she’s successful in 'becoming,’ she erases her own identity in the process. It’s no different than the ‘mask’ she assumed until middle school; she trades one mask for another, more appealing one, and her own ‘self’ is what gets destroyed.

Then there’s Twice. Double first started off as something that gave him comfort when he found himself utterly alone, but from there only lead to even more mistakes. Using his doubles to commit crimes as an ‘easy out,’ every decision Twice made thereafter piled on to conclude in his doubles’ murderfest. What began as comfort became the conduit for his own, literal, self-destruction as his doubles turned on each other.

Similarly, by the end of 239, Tomura has fully unleashed Decay. Like the first time he used it, he found it liberating, a release for all the emotions he experienced and repressed. Much like the rest who embraced their Quirks, it was a source of pleasure and comfort, but not without consequences: as shown by the damage one to his right arm, his body can’t sustain that kind of use. Decay too much, and there will be blowback in the form of starting to injure himself. It is, again, a form of literal self-destruction.

VI. To conclude:

The arc ends on a firm note about Tomura’s growth, and the direction thereof, concluding that Quirks affect innate drives which our antagonists have accepted and been rewarded for; however it follows on the heels of contradicting points about how that very acceptance and overindulgence ends in self-destruction. Our antagonists have been strongly linked together via backstory, highlighting the similar sources of conflict they’ve experienced. Familial strife, instinctive drives, the price of overindulgence, and the indifference of society are all elements that deeply influenced these characters, and their stories are continuations of how they conceptualize these elements with respect to their own senses of self. Again, assuming that we’re dealing with a competent writer, we can assume that these themes will be revisited as the story continues; namely, addressing to what degree a Quirk determines a person’s future (ideally, there should be a convergence of the messages brought up in this arc with those brought up with Shinsou and Monoma), coming to a resolution about the disputes of personal versus societal responsibility, and deciding how the narrative itself feels and wishes to convey about our antagonists and their struggles.

#shigaraki tomura #bubaigawara jin #toga himiko #shimura tenko #tomura shigaraki #jin bubaigawara #himiko toga #bnha meta #for those who want to know what to expect #2.4k words and 6 parts lulz...

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prorevenge · 6 years ago

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Destroy my childhood, ruin my chance at college, and laugh when I said I was homeless? Lol cool, I'll ruin your life.

Long story. TL;DR at the end.

BACKSTORY: My mother was a really shitty person. I have 4 other siblings. One older sister, 3 way younger, 3 different dads. Before I was born (im a male btw), my oldest sister was taken away from my mother when she was a few months old because she tried to stab/slice the father of my sister WHILE HE WAS HOLDING HER. She lost custody and the dude left her. Older sister goes to live with her fathers family in a different city. CUE LIL OL ME COMING INTO THIS SEXY WORLD. My dad went to jail 2-3 years after I was born for a while, I rarely saw him. He's an alcoholic if that matters. She was a single mother but she made it work and she worked hard. One of the bigger problems was that she took out all her agression and hatred of my father on me as well as work stress and etc. She dealt with sexual abuse growing up which I'm sure definitely affected her relationships and how she treated me as well. Anyways...

Cue me being abused from the age of 4-5 to about 17. Every day was hell. She was extremely strict and her perspective was warped. She was also pretty big in stature and had alot of strength. Examples of her being shitty: I've gotten beaten up badly once because HER room was dirty. The dishes weren't washed and I got beaten soon as I got home, even if there werent dishes when I left to school. If i walked too loud, id get my ass beat. She broke my nose for looking at her the wrong way on my 10th birthday when she brought me a cake I was allergic too(It had peanuts, she knows im slightly allergic but feigned ignorance..) It was more or less every day or every other day. She used her fists/elbows/extension cords/hangers/chairs/canes/bats/etc. Whatever she could find I was getting beaten with. I couldn't ever escape to my room for long because she would always call me every few minutes to get her things or to yell at me. She never drank or did drugs or anything. Whenever she was upset and I happened to be in front of her she'd kick me down the stairs to make me hurry up. She's put a knife to my neck before and had to be forcibly stopped by her bf of the time. Burned my christmas presents from other people (she didnt get me anything that year) and just other really shitty things. The only thing I will say, she tried really hard to make up for it with video games and electronics and etc. It didn't make a difference to me though, it never helped.

She controlled most aspects of my life. I got by with little petty revenges. Peeing in the lipton iced tea she drank. Rubbing her forks and spoons between ny buttcheeks before i served her dinner. Ignoring her screams for help when she had kidney stones (how tf am i supposed to help anyways??) But by the time i got to highschool I turned to alcohol. I resented her and the negative atmosphere affected who I was as a person. I started to be cold and uncaring. Calculated. She started kicking me out every few months telling me to find somewhere else to live by age 15. She sent me away to a different country for a year and tried to keep my passport but I made it back to the US with the help of the embassy and my step father (she'd already left by that time and found some other dude). I came back senior year with no credits for the prior grade which ended with me getting a GED. I spent most of the time i could with my best friend and started working shitty jobs. I was terrible at saving as i had accumulated loads of shitty habits while growing up so it didnt make much difference. She eventually told me that If i went to college, I would ALWAYS have a place to live until I finished. Cue my first 2 semesters at a 2 year college, I maintained a 3.7ish gpa. My teachers loved me and it was my escape. Towards the end of my 2nd semester during finals, i came home late one night around 10pm and my mother yanks the door open screaming in my face asking when I'll move out. I'm slightly drunk and decide to completely ignore her and walk to my room. If I opened my mouth, that day would be the day I blew up and cursed her out. I've rarely ever raised my voice at her because it never ended well. Now at this point im 19 and I've been doing school full time with no savings. Im also fairly fit and could easily take my mom at this point (Never laid a hand on her or any woman, i hate violence). I get to my room, she rips my door open, and starts yelling. I say nothing and stare at her. She walks away and called the police on me saying she thought id murder her and my younger siblings. I don't know where the fuck she got that idea from as she's the one who's nearly killed me many times.

I packed everything into a duffle bag and left 5 minutes afterwards. I failed all of my finals because I couldnt make it to my school. Things kinda spiraled and the next 2-3 years were me on and off homeless. I survived the best I could in a big city with no college degree and made alot of shitty choices due to my shitty habits. Eventually i found a profitable hobby that gave me meaning and through that i started to work my way up. Got my own apartment, had a full time job, and did my hobby on the side. I hadn't kept up contact with my mother at all but my younger sister who was old enough to have a phone found me on social media so i saw photos and such, she didn't have it anywhere near as bad but she did get beaten occasionally. My mother reached out via email all smiles asking how I've been. Now guys, ive always been envious of the relationship most ppl have with their moms so I gave her a chance and gave her a call. We talked for a few minutes and everything was civil and seemed like things would go okay but then...

She asked me what I've been up to the last few years and I told her honestly, that I was homeless for a while and struggled alot after what she did to me but I worked my way out of it. SHE LITERALLY LAUGHS. She laughed for a few seconds in a very condescending kinda chuckle and then said "I never did a thing to you so you don't know what abuse is! its your own damn fault you were homeless. So how about yo-" but by that point I hung up. I was speechless and fuming. I don't know what abuse is? OKAY BITCH. IVE SPENT TOO FUCKING LONG LETTING YOU DESTROY MY SANITY. NOW IS THE TIME.

There was a few things my mother didn't know. One, I knew for a fact that current well paying job she had was gotten on lies as she never got her college degree and lied about it on her resume. Two, I had access to all of her email accounts and cloud storage accounts since I was the one that set them up when I was younger and she never changes her passwords. Lastly, she DEFINITELY wasn't aware that from 13yrs old and onto the last time she hit me I took photos of ALL my bruises/marks/wounds/bloody noses saving them to my computer and then google drive. ON TOP OF THAT, my little sister had been sending me photos via social media of the bruises she got from my mom.

The first thing I did was compile ALL of those photos/videos into one folder. I then reached out to CPS in my city and explained that my siblings were being abused, how I was abused in the past, and that I had mountains of proof. Since ive called the cops on my mother before AND the thing that happened with my older sister, there was immediately a home visit. They arrived almost a day later with the police and coincidentally my mother was literally in the process of beating my younger sister when they were knocking. Cue an Emergency removal of all my siblings from the house and my mother getting arrested though she was released hours later. (I was getting a day to day play by play because my mothers best friend is a blabber mouth and everything my mother said she told her son who relayed it to me without either of their knowledge.) I sent CPS all the evidence and there's a legit case against my mother now. The next day I emailed and then called up her job to inform them that she had lied about having a very necessary college degree as well current events in her life which sparked a background check. She was fired days later. Say adios to 75k and a blacklist in the only industry you know how to work. I then spitefully deleted every cloud account and email address I ever made for her, which was all of them which im sure will make keeping up with alot bills and etc nearly impossible. I then anonymously reported her to the IRS because of the tax fraud she committed for years by claiming people's children that weren't hers with ALOT of detailed information since I lived with her while she did it.

So now, my mother lost all her kids and her job. Im meeting with a caseworker from CPS next week to talk more about what happens moving forward but I do know they're NOT going back. Idk how she's gonna pay her mortgage now and survive. I'm sure she's gonna get a call from the IRS who'll be looking for a few thousand dollars she owes them. She also has to go back to court in a few months, not exactly sure what she was charged with but ill update when I find out how everything turns out.

Side Note: She isn't aware im the cause of any of this. I plan on keeping tabs on her and waiting until it seems like she's close to death before I tell her it was all me and I peed in her lipton.

TL;DR - My mother abuses me badly for most of my life as well as my younger siblings. I have to drop out of college and support myself after she drove me to homelessness. She proceeds to laugh at me about me being homeless and denys abuse. So I ruined her life by getting my younger siblings removed and her arrested, making her lose her job, reported her to the IRS, and essentially set her up so that the remainder of her life is full of disaster and hardships.

(source) (story by howbout_that_lipton)

#prorevenge #by howbout_that_lipton #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10 #updated

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 5 years ago

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im supposed to be working on uh literally anything else but instead i gotta get this outta my brain

tl;dr: slag is causing the Psychos to spread across the galaxy bc the Calypsos are using it to both brainwash their cultists and give them ‘special powers’. i mean, its not just slag, it’s eridian ruins/tech, too, but the Twins are utilizing slag the most. which explains the slagfalls and also the processed eridium everywhere still. im hoping sirens will help us cure this- starting with Krieg because slag/Psychos have some sort of connection to the other dimension, just like Sirens, but more messy. also this insanity from the slag/Psycho-ness is literally Mayhem and us fans are taking part in it- we’re the cult irl. plus, this game is gonna be about love and the relationships we have with the people we care about and that’s all the roses mean because i’m feeling s o f t tonight. tomorning. whatever maaaaan

“… among their fractured ramblings, it is tempting to try and find a deeper meaning…”

“[their madness] defies attempts at explanation or containment. from an isolated region of a single planet, to a nearby moon, to systems throughout every human colony, madness is catching…”

you can’t tell me this isn’t just BEGGING for us to figure it out

so, for my own sake:

i have a theory.

i kinda sorta hinted at this with my destroyer theory but i REALLY wanna go all out in this because i think this is actually something to think about… mostly because ive seen A Scene… and i wants to talk about it, vh. i wants it

now im gonna `lol` ignore everything about my lost legion eternal theory and start entirely from scratch. it’s also 1am here for my apologies if this comes across as incoherent because wow i should be asleep but fuck it i got research to do

so it all starts with psychos. i mean i guess it does. it’s gotta right? i brought in pictures it must

anyway

the guide admits that the first psychos came from Dahl’s prison colonies

the ones abandoned on pandora, now ive kinda talked about this b4 but imma talk about it again bc uhhh fuck it? why not.

so we know a lot of the bandits left on Pandora mutated because of the eridian ruins/the key. this is referenced mostly in sledge’s mine

its like world-wise called headstone mine but i never remember that. SLEDGE’S MINE

notice that line “most went crazy and many were physically mutated as well”

so i think it’s safe to say whatever they found in there started causing psychos to appear on pandora

im saying that i think eridians are the cause of Psychos across the galaxy

i have a lot more proof for this so please sit back and enjoy the ride because i think its really really cool

so lets look at hector’s logs from the newest dlc

“one of my boys found a shiny alien trinket”

“a few boys went rabid already, had to put them down”

now idk if there’s a connection here, but it’s interesting that both times, people who found these eridian artifacts started going crazy soon after

shit i mean even tannis begins to go off the wall after her and her dig team start investigating the eridian sites. although if that is because of the horrific incidents that befell her and her team or the ruins idk for certain. i’d bet its the shitty incidents tho

there’s more to this, hang on…

alright, so, lab rats? they’re pretty cool right?

we all like lab rats! personally, chase is my favorite, but adam is hilarious. that final season, huh? pretty wicked… wasn’t really a fan of the island setting but you know what, to each their own. it’s cool they actually progressed the show instead of staying stagnant. that got my respect even if it moved in a direction that wasn’t my cup of tea.

anyway Q U O T E S:

“Hyperion opened my eyes. i didn’t want it!”

“needles in my eyes!”

“don’t you look at me!”

“i can see! i don’t want to see!”

so there’s obviously something ~fucky~ going on with the lab rats and whatever it is they can see from the hyperion experimentation. we know hyperion had a hard-on for slag experimentation and you know i wouldn’t even be shocked if they were injecting these rats’ eyes with slag.

the best part is their reactions when they’re phaselocked. Unlike most enemies, the lab rats will only react to maya’s action skill, and none of the other VHs.

vs something like a marauder:

who has all these voice lines for Zer0, Axton, Sal (merc), AND Maya

the lab rats will only ever respond to being phaselocked.

and what do they say?

“i see the universe!”

“i see infinity!”

“it’s beautiful!”

(now weirdly enough i was told on the tv tropes for bl2 that the lab rats will say “I see it more!” when phaselocked by maya, but i couldn’t find a source for that. couldn’t even find it in the files i extracted from the game. i checked an online video just to double check because you know, my extraction could’ve been off, but it wasn’t there, either. even phaselocked one a bunch as maya and i couldn’t get it to proc. so, idk where that info came from, if someone could give a source/proof that would be awesomesauce.)

sooo what do other enemies say when phaselocked? usually… they just see blue. so nothing quite as interesting as infinity.

so wtf is up here?

im thinking the experiments hyperion performed on the lab rats are letting them see the dimension maya locks them in. i mean, tbh, i think they can see into that dimension whenever they open their eyes, but maybe maya’s phaselock makes sense of it for them. because they seem to be in indescribable agony outside of it

but the lab rats aren’t the only enemies that only react to being phaselocked

turns out the psychos only react to phaselocking, too

they also have some fun lines:

“I can see forever!”

“I’m home!”

“I’m inside… I’M INSIDE ME!”

with some other nonsense thrown in for fun

so idk, just taking a look at this, it’s clear the psychos and lab rats are seeing something that the other bandits just aren’t seeing. most reactions are demands to be released or that they’re flying, or just straight up confusion as to what’s happening.

is that the side effect of their exposure to slag/eridian tech? yeah, imma bet on it. their mind machines probably broke because they saw something they weren’t supposed to (possibly into the other dimension. the one maya phaselocks them in) without proper ‘protection’ and thus went batshit. like maybe sirens are protected from the craziness of the other dimension because they’re ‘chosen’ or whatever. iunno.

i do think it’s most interesting that the psychos seem familiar with whatever they’re seeing, calling it ‘home’ and well… themselves.

so why in the fuck am i talking about all this? because i think it ties straight into bl3.

let’s bring back lab rats and their experiments

you know how hyperion was supposedly injecting their eyes with slag? and it caused them to shoot those weird blue lasers out?

what happens to the destroyer’s eye in tps?

yeah we inject this bad boy with slag

“i only juice the eye with a little bit of slag at a time”

which ends up causing a singularity around the eye the second time you do it

“if this slag stuff is powering the laser, we need to force as much of it as we can back into the eye. the increased power will trip a failsafe and let us shut everything down”

oh, increased power? you mean like how Sirens get increased power from absorbing eridium? that kind of increased power?

we know in bl1 the Destroyer seemed to have something like slag in it- those glowing pockets on the tentacles that explode into purple goo

even its attacks are like purple liquid. which, you know… would be quite similar to slag (tho tbf, these attacks actually hurt instead of applying the debuff)

and boy does the destroyer not like it

“warning. space-time instability detected.” after injecting the eye with too much slag. but… why? it got too powerful? are its powers directly connected to the other dimension and by increasing it’s strength a bunch we created some sorta link between our dimension and the other one?

i mean given the other dimension allows for teleportation and shit, im not surprised there’s a space-time instability!

i mean we’ve all seen it do the eye laser thing, and the tentacles, and the purple goop. but causing space-time instabilities… that’s new isn’t it? kinda like how Sirens get new powers after they absorb a bunch of eridium???

so i wanna take a guess as to what the destroyer is

we know its ‘immortal in its own realm’ but when it’s taken an actual body that we can kill it, so odds are, it never actually died in bl1 OR tps. i imagine the Destroyer we see in bl1 is just a small fragment of it, and that it’s consciousness can be spread out across hosts. *EDIT: actually the lovely @automata-systemata-hydromata reminded me that you can find the destroyers brain in Helios. The other stuff I left in should be fine tho I thiiiink (thank you!).

and that, y’know, is cool and all, but what IS it??

Jack uses slag to give it a power boost, but it doesn’t seem to be happy about it when it happens. in fact, it even seems scared.

to be honest, all we know is that the eridians locked it away for some reason

idk im just spitballing here, but what if the Eridians were the creators of the destroyer? not intentionally, or maybe it was the result of one hell of a slag experiment/exposure to the other dimension/eridian tech, but we’ve seen what slag/exposure to eridian stuff does to humans… makes them go crazy, makes them start mutating. i mean, look at badass psychos. look at goliaths.

i mean shit even think about bloodwing. she goes wild, attacking the VHs and not listening to mordecai’s instructions despite their bond

she grows to a huge size and gains a whole shitload of new powers she didn’t have before. including fucking fire breath (which we’ve seen in burning psychos)

you know these dudes

i go into all this eridium/slag mutation stuff in SO much more detail in this post here, so if you’re interested in mutations, read this!

so what if the destroyer is just one HELL of a mutated eridian/alien and it plus all the eridium was locked away forever in the other dimension to keep this from ever happening again? because god, i wouldn’t want that to ever happen again, either, and i guess locking away the eridium (you know the stuff used in all these hyperion experiments) would be their best bet at ensuring it. also maybe just… locking away anything with eridium for that long probably isn’t the best idea… maybe that’s why it’s all tentacles and death. maybe they just locked someone away in a Vault as a prison and then leaving them with all that eridium caused them to mutate wildly out of control. kinda like the FEV.

i mean we know ‘slagged psychos’ look like this

i wouldn’t be surprised if we gave them enough slag/time they’d end up mutating even worse. and the destroyer was left in the vault for hundreds of years.

so wtf is the connection here with Sirens? there’s gotta be one, right??? is slag experimentation the first rung on the ladder of volatile science to achieving siren-hood? like you’d have slag/eridium experiments/mutations -> the lost legion eternal -> actual Sirens. maybe if sirens take in too much eridium they become something like the destroyer. now that’s fucked up to think about.

maybe it’s better the twins took lilith’s powers away from her…

oh, speaking of mutations and burning psychos and hyperion experiments, you know what we haven’t talked about yet?

Krieg.

let’s talk a whole lot about Krieg, because he is super important

krieg is important for a lot of reasons.

u know what his teaser trailer was named?

yeah i don’t think that’s coincidence one bit

ahhh Mayhem.

“deep beneath pandora, an experiment has escaped”

we know krieg is a hyperion test subject, dr samuels confirms this (and apparently contracts insanity as well at the end of the Crawmerax DLC)

also we know some other tests going on at the WEP from the quest Doctor’s Orders:

“this vault key didn’t make eridium come outta the ground for nothing, right?”

and there’s this one very very very interesting line by Tannis at the end of the quest:

“the spread of slag poisoning” yeah call it that DUMB name tannis, im gonna call it what all the kool kids are calling it: ~Mayhem~

so… Krieg.

what’s so special about him?

well… he gives us insight into what the hell is actually going on inside the heads of some psychos.

so idk about you guys but i always took this as a poke at Maya and Krieg, but i realize now that this is talking literally just about Krieg. it’s about his body holding both sides of himself.

krieg does appear to be like lucid behind the psycho controlling his body, which, idk about you guys, but for me that plants some pretty horrible mental images of all the psychos in-game who probably have similarly exasperated people behind them who are getting murdered because they can’t control themselves anymore.

and idk i wrote this whole post about how maybe the slag experimentation is turning people into hosts for the destroyer’s consciousness and that could explain all the wacked up psychos and shit. but tbh im not gonna talk about that today

just about slag experimentation/eridium exposure. we know what it ACTUALLY does and that’s mutate the hell out of things and cause insanity.

Krieg is like… the poster child for slag experimentation/eridium exposure

soooo why does slag experimentation make people go insane? could be any number of reasons, but tbh i would bet it has to do with that other dimension somehow. because eridium isn’t a normal ‘our dimension’ element. it came out of a vault. from a different dimension. and who knows the long-term effects of that shit.

i personally had a theory that the 4th dimension had something to do with time and that only Sirens are able to harness this power, but then i have no idea how to explain angel and amara’s powers through that lense, so eh. fuck it. just seeing an upper dimension would make you go crazy anyway, so let’s not bring any time shit into this because that’s just asking for trouble.

either way

i think that sirens are able to make sense of that other dimension. they have some sort of command of it/some sort of tie to it that allows them to not go crazy the instant they interact with it, unlike psychos. unlike lab rats. unlike Krieg. it’s like… eridium is our window into this other dimension or some shit and Sirens are (literally) able to process it, while it just fucks over anyone else who tries to interact. ~kachow i just introduced parallels~

and tbh i think we’re going to use Sirens to help cure this plague of insanity going around the universe. probably starting with Krieg. i mean, the only time he’s able to get even an iota of control is when he sees Maya. “Turn around pretty lady!!” like… that’s HUGE for him. and Maya’s a Siren. im not saying the power of love isn’t strong… but maybe the power of Sirens is stronger. i’d love if tannis helped us out with that. maya, too, if she really did learn more about sirens on athenas.

this all ties into borderlands 3 for 2 reasons:

1. Mayhem being both the tagline for this game and Krieg the Psycho’s DLC pack is not a coincidence

2. The calypso twins are going to be using slag to both brainwash people into becoming cultists and give them special powers

`breaks fingers` this is the real meat of this theory, all that other stuff was just getting you READY for this

let’s put the Mayhem stuff off to the side for a second and just focus on the Calypso twins.

We know they’re promising their cultists special powers and free brainwashes (lol)

we’ve seen that one concept art from the museum of mayhem with the giant slag pool

we know enemies are STILL dropping refined Eridium even though it seems like all manufacturers have stopped creating slag weaponry

and we’ve seen the slag falls in a bl3 promo material already

oh yes

okay so i said right at the very beginning of this document that i’ve seen A Scene that i wanna talk about and oh baby this is it

This Scene right here

look in the very back there

look familiar???

~it shooouuuuullld~

yeah this is it!!!

so what i think is going down: anyone who’s not already insane is sorta ‘baptized’ as their entrance into this cult in the big ol slagfall. maybe the twins have a way to induce slagged cultists so they can have elemental affinities. not sure about that.

regardless

the twins are using slag to drive people insane (turning them into psychos) as a form of brainwashing to force people to join their cult.

so that’s the special powers and the free brainwashing and the slagfalls down.

let’s talk about why exactly we’re seeing enemies drop bars of refined eridium even though hyperion stopped making them. because the twins are making it!! it makes sense why there’s no slag guns still, even if it still exists in-universe: of course no manufacturer is going to contact an insane bandit cult just to get their hands on slag for their guns.

there was a 7 year dry spell of eridium production so there was no slag to go around, so companies started phasing it out of their guns and replacing it with nuclear.

but the twins have recently started production again. they’re obviously not using it in their guns, or selling it to other manufacturers. so wtf are they using it for? it’s gotta be important, it’s holy holy holy.

special powers and brainwashing!

and the refined eridium is back in circulation, so enemies are still dropping it. see? solution acquired.

as for psycho-ness spreading across the universe? it makes sense. not only are the twins using their slag to brainwash people and turn them into psycho cultists, but people are also being mutated by the eridian ruins/vault keys/vaults on the other planets and being driven insane. This craziness is quite literally Mayhem.

Mayhem is coming, indeed!

now let us talk about what the fucccck gearbox is doing with all that Mayhem stuff in the trailers and shit.

sooo WE are the cult surrounding this game. as the fan base.

do u think it was coincidence that they made ‘ECHOnet’ Streamers the leaders of their big bad cult and then also immediately introduced, in real life, the Twitch ECHOcast extension and invited a bunch of streamers to play their demo? they knew exactly what they were doing. Giving away a free cultist psycho mask to everyone who preorders a console copy of the game? that’s intentional. everyone who preorders the game gets a ‘gold weapon skin pack’? yeah! you know what gold weapons represent in-universe? higher standing in the cult!! gearbox is making commentary on how we are all just like the cultists!

AND THEY ARE TOTALLY RIGHT

all the trailers having something to do with Mayhem? ‘Mask of Mayhem’ ‘Mural of Mayhem’ ‘We are Mayhem’ ‘Mayhem is coming’. We’re all insane cultists because we’re all absolutely fucking rabid for this game and they KNOW IT.

…

oh also we’re all in love with each other lmao.

in all seriousness, i think the game is going to focus a lot on the relationships we have with the people we care about- our found family, our romantic interests, our friendships- and that’s being expressed through the roses.

i think that’s why all the characters are shown in the roses on the cover art. why the roses are so prominent in the So Happy Together trailer. why Zane is sitting at a bar with a rose between himself and his clone (as a joke, but still, it’s the intent).

red roses are, like, the most obvious way to show your affection to someone. and we know the bl3 Vault Hunters are going to find family in each other in this game. that we’re going to watch the calypso twins’ relationship become warped as the game goes on. hell, we’re probably even going to have a whole plot about tina and mordy (and talon) and brick being a small family together, and maya and ava being one as well. plus ellie and vaughn have gotten together since commander lilith. shit, guys, even claptrap is building himself a girlfriend.

this game’s about love, guys.

anyway i have been working on this since 1:30am. it’s currently 6:06am. i am very tired and very wired and those never mesh well. im gonna go eat some motherfuckin pizza.

edit: i missed the obvious connection the first time around: of course we’re going to cure Krieg, he loves Maya. and this game is all about love.

that and/or one or both of them die and gearbox hurts us right in the softest parts of our hearts.

edit 2: also yeah at some point in the near future im writing that Hyperion-Twins theory because as much as i love Atlas, i have ~seen some things~

#borderlands #bl3 #borderlands 3 #the calypso twins #krieg #im so sorry this is like 1 billion pages #but i really had fun with it #i worked on this for a very very long time so i hope its coherent enough #i sorta just go on tangents and always repeat myself when i've said similar stuff in previous posts and i feel bad #but also i can't always put in EVERY single detail when im spending 5+ hours on a post just typing all this up anyway #so instead i reference old posts #but i feel like a dumb game of telephone #anyway #im very tired #it's time for pizza

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i-beg-your-parsons · 6 years ago

Text

[Shreya] wasn’t in last week’s chapter, so have a fic (#1)

Relationship: Shreya Mistry/F!MC (Celestine Leblanc)

Count: 1775 words

So I’ve decided that I’m going to make this a series where I update this whenever a character (in this case, Shreya) is swept under the rug (so am I updating this every week, multiple times then? Who knows! 🙃). It’ll be good practice for me to get back into writing. But maybe not every week exactly, I’m starting my undergraduate thesis lol.

Apologies if they’re OOC, especially Aster? (She’s good friends with Shreya in this fic!!) I haven’t tried writing them much and it’s been a while since I did a fic lmao. Hope you peeps like!! Let me know if you want to be tagged for subsequent ones.

This uses the following prompts:

“My cat is more sassy than you’ll ever be.”

“Watch out! I can’t slow down! Move! Move! Move!”

“Am I good at skateboarding? Pfffft! Of course I am!”

Tags: @jellymonster, @deeohno, @coolios-beanios, @h-doodles

“Watch out! I can’t slow down!”

Shreya is startled by a panicked voice, almost dropping her hand mirror on the sidewalk. She whirls toward the direction of the sound. What the -

“Lady, please move, move, move!!” A blur of blue, red, and brown was hurtling towards her before her brain could really process anything. They make a sharp turn, just barely brushing her skirt, so thankfully she avoided being pummelled into the wall. Her three-inch heels, however, threw her off balance, making her stumble into a large potted shrub situated outside the facade of Maison D’Yew.

Wonderful. How fucking elegant.

“Oh my stars, are you hurt?” A feminine voice calls out to her, presumably partially responsible for what had just transpired. Shreya inwardly huffs to rein in her annoyance. It would be extremely unsightly for a Mistry to throw a tantrum. At times like these, she was thankful for those dry etiquette lessons her parents made her take when she was seven.

“I-It’s quite alright! I didn’t get hurt; just much too close and personal with this plant,” Shreya assures worried girl in her haughty ‘humble’ voice.

(Well, something had to channel her anger. The thick branch digging into her back was not helping keep her head cool.)

She could feel the girl’s slender hands firmly grip her arms and try to pull her up. It was gentle and slow, but jagged twigs were poking her everywhere, “Ow, ow, ow!”

The sounds of her distress halt the girl from pulling her, but she still kept her grip. Her voice sounded more apologetic, if it was even possible, “I am so, so sorry! I told Zeph it was stupid to try riding the broom like a skateboard, but he didn’t really care because he said it would look cool.”

Everything was so fast and panicked and ridiculous that Shreya couldn’t help the wild giggles that bubbled up her throat as she nodded, “I can definitely vouch for the fact that it was stupid.”

Shreya could hear the girl grin, “Nice to know someone sides with me.”

A comfortable lull settles over them before the girl clears her throat. “Maybe I could try magicking you out?”

She seemed capable enough, so Shreya finds that she doesn’t mind.

“OK, go for it.”

Flashes of green and brown lights from the Wood magick circle peek through the gaps between the leaves obscuring Shreya’s vision. Slowly, the twigs and leaves retract, revealing the face of her saviour as she leaned closer to pull her up by the shoulders.

And fuck: She was exactly Shreya’s type.

The blonde had her eyebrows furrowed in panicked worry as she gently picked off leaves that had gotten into Shreya’s hair and clothes. “Again, I am so sorry. I’ll be sure to give Zeph hell for dragging you into this.”

Shreya could feel the warmth creeping up into her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Her touch was so soothing. “It’s no problem. Is he going to be okay?”

The girl’s face scrunches up at the concern for Zeph. “Yes, probably… I think.” She opens one pale blue eye to find that Shreya was still looking at her, waiting for… what exactly?

A furious blush colours the girl’s pale cheeks.

“I… should probably go make sure he’s okay. Have a good day, miss!” The blonde turns at the direction Zeph went off and starts at a sprint. It was only then that Shreya sprung into action, hurriedly calling out to the blonde before she left, “M-my name’s Shreya! What’s your name?!”

The blonde doesn’t look back at her, but she yells, “Celestine! See you around!”

—

“So that’s why Aoi was so grumpy when we stepped out,” Aster chuckles as she sipped her sencha tea. They’d been friends for a while, as Shreya was a regular at Maison D’Yew, despite having people who could easily run the errands for her at Mistry manor. Whether it was just a Shreya thing, or an excuse to visit Aster, the wood nymph didn’t mind.

It was always nice to see one of her only friends.

“For what it’s worth, I apologised to Aoi the shrub before I went inside the shop,” Shreya offers. “And besides, it wasn’t all that terrible.” Her face warms at the memory of the girl — Celestine, she reminds herself — and the concern she showed for her. Shreya absently stares at the steam coming off her drink, remembering the blonde’s delicate blue eyes which were, fittingly enough, the colour of a strontium sulphate mineral, celestine.

Her parents must be familiar with Attuneless science. I should ask her next time.

Silence descends over the two girls as Shreya spaced out and Aster observed her. She blows at her tea again, before taking a sip. “So when are you going to see her again?”

Shreya almost spills her hot drink and shoots Aster an incredulous look. The green-skinned girl pauses with a blank look of her own and blinks, before giggling as she realises her friend’s thought process.

“For the last time, I can’t read your mind unless you’re a plant. I just know what you look like when you’re excited about something.”

Shreya grips her mug a little tighter, in an attempt to fight down her worsening blush. Aster continues to observe her reactions over her cup of tea. “Or someone, in this case.”

“… She was really cute, okay?”

Aster can’t fight off the grin on her face. Checkmate.

She reaches out a woody hand to pry off Shreya’s own from her grip on the hot cocoa and pats her friend’s manicured nails. They were painted a deep crimson today. “You should ask her out.”

Shreya sighs, “But what if she’s not into girls? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

Aster tilts her head slightly and blinks. It wasn’t like the heiress to resign herself to the possibility that the girl she was interested in identified as heterosexual. “But what if she is? And more importantly,” Aster leans into her friend’s personal space to whisper in her ear.

“What if she’s into you?”

Shreya jerks back from her friend, clamping a hand over her ear. She shivers like she was just put under a shower of ice cold water. She narrows her eyes are the wood nymph as she tries to calm her breathing. “Why are you being so cheeky today, Ass?”

Aster simply shrugs with a pleasant smile. “One of us has to bring the cheek to move the conversation along. It’s obviously not going to be you, what with this smitten state you’re in.”

Shreya rolls her eyes, “Spare me; my cat’s sassier than you.”

Aster blinks, “You don’t have a cat.”

Shreya throws up her hands in exasperation, “That’s the point!”

The two continue to lock gazes in a contest of wills: Shreya with a piercing glare, and Aster with an amused sparkle. The competition was intense, as if the winner would have their argument proven right.

“Zeph, slow down! You might bump into someone again!”

Shreya’s attention immediately strays to the voice. Could it be…?

“No can do, Leblanc! Those croissants might get sold out!” A voice, presumably Zeph, answers as the front door of the café is slammed open by said male. “Hannah, my bro! Two croissants on the double!”

The short-haired blonde at the register rolls her eyes before shaking her head. “Alright, Denim. But sit your ass down, okay?”

Zeph flamboyantly stands at attention, before giving a dramatic salute. “Roger that, Pixie cut!”

“You’re being way too dramatic,” Celestine steps into the shop, putting her hair up in a ponytail, presumably to cool herself off from running after Zeph. Her hair tie is held between her lips, giving Shreya the perfect excuse to look at them.

Celestine seems to notice the stares directed at her, as her gaze connects with Shreya’s. Her eyes light up in recognition, and her hand immediately comes up to wave at the Fire-Att.

“Why hello, Shreya! Fancy seeing you again,” Celestine walks over to their table, then rocks back and forth on her heels as she stands.

Shreya brings up a had to wave back, feeling the clamminess that had suddenly developed. “Hi, Celestine. I’m usually here every Saturday with my friend Aster here.” She gestures to Aster, who was absolutely buzzing with excitement. The flowers in her hair were blooming.

“As she said, my name is Aster and it’s so wonderful to meet you, Celestine. Shreya was just telling me about the incident this morning with my Hydrangea macrophylla, Aoi.” The wood nymph managed to get up from her seat and move towards Celestine within that sentence to grasp and shake the girl’s pale hand with her pliant fingers. “He’s thankful for your wood magick because it fixed the branches Shreya broke when she fell into him.”

Celestine draws a blank look, before looking over to Shreya for help. The heiress simply nods, but what does that even mean? She decides that it’s better to play along. “Well, he’s very welcome. I didn’t get the chance to tell him that his flowers were a very beautiful shade of blue.”

“Honestly, Aster, how many times do I have to apologise?” Shreya complains from her seat on the table.

Aster grins at Celestine’s response while pointedly ignoring Shreya, “I’ll be sure he gets the message.” She stares meaningfully into the confused blonde’s eyes, bringing up a hand to hover over the other girl’s cheek. Celestine can feel the coolness of her skin, a plant-like material that felt much like the stem of a flower. Her eyes suddenly darken into a tar-black, seeping into the veins of her translucent skin, “It’s not often that you find humans — Attuned, especially — who care as much for plants.”

Sensing the newcomer’s shock and exponentially growing discomfort, Shreya interrupts. “Hey, uhm, Celestine, would you guys like to sit with us?”

And just as suddenly, Aster is back from her Branching, “That’s a wonderful idea!” She moves to pull out the chair next to Shreya (and if it ends up skewed a little too close to her friend’s seat, well, Aster doesn’t know anything about that).

“I’ll go ahead and assist your friend there are the counter. It seems like he’s having a bit of trouble,” Aster points to where Zeph is gesturing wildly in a conversation with Hannah (aka Pixie cut), who was managing the counter. “Don’t eat her up while I’m gone,” she grins at Shreya, who blushed at the insinuation, but kept her cool this time.

She fires back with a grin of her own.

“I make no promises.”

––

#playchoices #choices #the elementalists #te #shreya mistry #aster #te aster #zeph hernandez #zephyr hernandez #shreya x mc #mc x shreya #wilwcshaf

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domesticangel · 6 years ago

Photo

ok ive been wanting to do an OC redraw/redesign for a while now and uh, well here it is !!! top is obv the revamp and bottom is these three’s original designs ,,, the bottom pic is 9 years old (holy smokes) so i made them during my middle school emo/scene phase when i was like 12 so thats why they're.........Like That lmao but left to right in both pics is jude, elliot, and skipper!!! this was? so fun honestly

ummm lots of info/backstory about them under the cut lol

so in the original pic/designs… if I remember correctly jude and skipper were in police academy training to be cops and elliot was some punk ass kid theyd end up seeing around a lot cause he was in and out of holding for Delinquent Things, and ofc they magically became friends. Im pretty sure they were all 16/17 when I first made them which makes no sense at all (teen cops??? Ok) but like when ur 12, teenagers are Practically Adults BUT none of that is Canon TM anymore. In their redesign they range from early to late 20’s; I usually peg jude around 26-27, elliot is probably 23-24, and skipper is 21.

jude was the very first oc I ever made so shes always had a special place in my heart… I started churning out rapid fire ocs when I was in middle school that id toss when I was bored with em but shes the one that always stuck around!! Shes been a big honkin lesbian ever since her conception, so id use her a lot to express BabyGay feelings I didn’t really know how else to process. design wise I kinda just simplified her look; I have no fucking clue why she used to have an eyepatch and cat ears (I mean, I do, its because I was a weeb) but I got rid of those along with the scene hair and gave her longer hair with more natural waves and some freckles from spending a lot of time in the sun. her gray eyes and hair were always kind of her signature, so those got to stay! She mostly just wears anything that’s easy enough to move around and get work done in; tank tops, loose long skirts, etc. think futch hippy. anyways jude is now just a simple plant witch who uses her skills and connection with the elements to run a modest local farm, and even though shes fairly content in her lifestyle, she wants nothing more than a gf/wife that she can work hard to give a good life to :3c shes a hopeless romantic and has a bad habit of falling a little bit in love with every woman she meets, but shes mad shy when it comes to flirting, so more often than not shes just a sweaty ball of pining and infatuation. Whenever shes feeling some type of way about a girl she either obsessively takes on projects around the farm or house to distract herself or rants to her plants about how shes too afraid to express her feelings. RIP useless lesbian jude. Anyway shes the oldest of the trio, so shes very protective of elliot and skipper in a mother hen kind of way. She gets embarrassed when she realizes shes lecturing them like a cranky old maid, but they secretly don’t really mind it and often come to her for general life advice. I think her sign would be Taurus :3c (and probably an air moon since she’s kind of a space cadet)

elliot was REALLY FUN to redesign bc I honestly just wanted him to look like one of those people who had a HUGE scene phase way back when and just… never completely grew out of it lmao so I gave him the two-tone mullet he deserves, grown out roots hes definitely not gonna bother to re-bleach and re-dye, and piercing scars under his lip from where he used to have some tacky ass snakebites that he probably had to take out to get a job or something lol. he couldn’t completely give up piercings though, so the labret and gauges got to stay. Dudes not COMPLETELY stuck in 2007, but he does still enjoy a lot of the OG emo/punk bands and the fantasy of making it big in his own band and touring the country in a fashionably clunky van. He doesn’t exactly have a band, but hes working on that. Hes halfway decent on vocals and a guitar so he spends a lot of time combing through the local college town he lives and works in in hopes of finding some people who’d wanna play some gigs with him. But in the mean time, he works as a barista in a local café, which usually hooks him up by letting him do some acoustic sets at night every now and again. Hes a very warm and upbeat person, and will happily engage and talk the ear off of anyone close enough for him to do so, stranger or otherwise. He also regularly reminds jude and skipper how much he loves both of them and how glad he is that theyre all friends; He doesn’t really have much in the way of embarrassment or apprehension when it comes to what hes feeling. Hes the official unofficial “plan-maker” of the friend group and is able to bring them all together for quality time, because hes not at all passive like jude or skipper, and… usually has the most free time out of all of them lol. elliot is pure Leo and that’s about all there is to that

And finally, congratulations to skipper, who against all odds, looked normal enough that I didn’t really have to change anything at all about his design! Just had to ditch the uniform for your typical Tired Gay mustard sweaters. Skipper is an English major in his sophomore year of college who, like most people in their 20’s in liberal arts programs, is desperately trying to figure out what he wants out of life and also doesn’t know what sleeping or self-care is. He really enjoys writing, but doesn’t really know if he wants to do it for a living or if he even could. He grew up with pretty cold and distant parents, so on top of knowing they don’t really approve of his major, he pretty much always operates under the assumption that if hes not working himself to death hes not justifying the space hes taking up or the air hes breathing. Emotionally speaking hes more emo than elliot will ever be and his blood is probably 75% caffeine. He having kind of a rough time tbh but hes gritting it out in hopes that things become more clear eventually. He’d be way worse off if he didn’t have jude or elliot, who hes more thankful for than he can ever bring himself to express. They were essentially his first real, close friends, and despite skipper being incapable of asking for help, they always seem to know when he needs someone to talk to or even just a brief distraction; Jude has an open door policy for her farm and will let him come over and cuddle some rabbits or sit and talk over tea on her porch whenever he needs to, and elliot cant remember the last time hes made skipper pay for anything he ordered from the café, or the last time he even had to ask skipper what he wanted. Because hes the youngest of the three its sometimes their instinct to protect him, which embarrasses skipper out of his mind, but he knows they mean well. Hes the physical embodiment of Just Doing His Best and is a stone cold Capricorn

They’re still besties but basically met just from living in the same town; jude and elliot met when jude started providing the café’s local roast from the coffee beans she grew on her farm so elliot saw her fairly regularly and of course was like Oh Friend? Jude always liked how forthcoming elliot was as it complimented her generally reserved nature, and elliot always thought living on a farm and growing your own food was pretty punk rock and therefore pretty dang cool in his book. They both got to know skipper because he came to the café every. single. day. to ingest ungodly amounts of espresso and study all day, and when elliot took an interest in skipper, jude suggested he invite him to one of his gigs since the poor guy kinda looked like he needed a break. Skipper initially kind of politely shot elliot down, but jude took a chance and found skipper later to tell him how much itd mean to elliot, and that if it made him feel better she’d go with him, since going to events like this was different for her too. skipper apprehensively agreed at that point, and the rest is history !!! they all kinda hit it off after that

tl;dr

#art #oc #original character #i even named the redraw frensiswhenyouhaveabud.jpeg #i think about this sentence almost daily #jude #elliot #skipper #redraw

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adanceforrain · 6 years ago

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To all the boys I’ve dated (in 2018)

2017, like 2008, was a metamorphic year because I fell in love (with N)… and I think when anyone falls in love they’re never the same again. Both years a boy who I found to be special catapulted me into the stratosphere where I experienced satisfaction akin to what I imagine a devout Buddhist monk must experience once they’ve attained nirvana. And in both years, just as quickly and unsuspectingly as I found myself floating at unseen heights, I came crashing down with blazing meteoric speed. When I landed, my spirit was so shattered I forgot who I was or what made me… me. But the silver lining of being so broken is this golden opportunity to take all those unrecognizable shards and rebuild myself into something new, something better. I’m happy to say that in 2018 I was able to accomplish just that, although the recovery and repair process was far from pretty and clean.

The keys to my recovery this year were dance, friends, and boys.

Dance

While I’m still not a great dancer, learning how to dance has been so fucking liberating and empowering. In dance class I was able to explore and experiment with different facets of myself, even the ones I’d normally not have the opportunity to safely display, such as being sassy and hyper-feminine. Every class I’m looking at myself, studying my body and how it reacts to certain movements, and doing this day in and day out creates this beautiful and intimate relationship with my body. I’m much more familiar with it now than I’ve ever been. With that familiarity brings a newfound confidence. I now no longer fear getting out on the dancefloor and dancing a fool, and this freedom has renewed the novelty and enhanced the fun of going out to clubs, music festivals, and raves. Now more than ever, I feel comfortable in my body (despite being twinkier than I’ve been in the past 5 years).

Friends

Like Lady Gaga’s ‘100 People In A Room’ quote, I’ve told my closest friends my heartbreak stories more times than they care to remember, and just like Lady Gaga, each time I’d say it with as much gusto and sincerity as the first. Even after hearing a retelling of a romantic endeavor for the hundredth time, my friends still listen and provide genuine feedback (and maybe throw in an eye-roll here and there but with a pinch of love). And whenever I entered a new relationship with a boy (regardless of HOW many red flags he had), my friends still unconditionally supported me, even if that support came in the form of complete disapproval. Romance aside, simply being surrounded by people who sincerely listen and laugh at my dumb jokes is so, so reassuring about my worth as a person. To feel seen. To be loved. Even in platonic form, it’s still incredibly rewarding.

Boys

I was a mammoth of a mess this year when it came to boys, but I’d be lying if I said being so was not only helpful but essential to my recovery. For the first 3 quarters of 2018 I was dating guys for reasons I’m not proud of, especially in the early months of 2018 when the sting of heartbreak was still incisive and N’s ghost was still relentlessly haunting me. I dated four guys this year: J, R, G, and S. All of them except S were motivated in some way, shape, or form by N. J was in hopes of replacing him; R to make him jealous; G to prove to myself that by dating him, then maybe, just maybe, I could be more attractive than N because I won someone over who is so highly sought after (at least on social media). I even slept with N’s ex to get intel on N, which is arguably one of the most immoral and cunning things I’ve ever done. While I may not have succeeded in the mission set out for each respective boy, they all, in their own way, contributed to my growth as a person by showing me exactly what I didn’t want in my romantic future or myself.

S was the first guy I dated not out of spite for N or in hopes of making N jealous or even to validate my value in the dating market but because I genuinely liked him and hoped for the best, at least in the initial honeymoon phase. In retrospect, it’s as clear as crystal that we’d never work due to our differing interests, personalities, friends, and senses of humor. I mean, there was some overlap, but we both knew (him more than me because I was too blinded by his smile), that we’d ultimately fail long term - that we’d end up hating each other. He taught me that I still stank of desperation.

I’ve always known physical attraction alone isn’t enough to fuel a thriving relationship, but fully putting that into practice has been difficult since moving to the Bay where there is a seemingly endless supply of cute boys. I get so easily entranced by devilishly handsome faces that I willingly overlook glaring incompatibilities and red flags. I think it’s because of my insecurities, of feeling like I’m not attractive enough, therefore if I date someone society deems attractive, then by association and proxy, so am I.

All the boys I’ve dated in 2018 slowly and subtly helped me realize this, but it wasn’t until August when I went to Outside Lands with G did the realization really take form. G and I were talking/dating that entire summer, and I had this seemingly inextinguishable burning desire to win him over. When he finally agreed to stay with me and be my companion that weekend, I was elated at first… until that weekend happened. Being with him left so, so much to be desired. And I needed more. So much more. I needed humor. I needed depth. I needed human-to-human connection. I needed devilish grins, glances, touches, jokes, chemistry, and sin. Instead, what I craved most when I was with him was nothing of him at all – for him to not be there. I felt constrained and hamstringed by his presence. And that was also the weekend when I discovered what I wanted and what truly matters most to me in a romance.

The truest test of my 2018 growth came in November on Thanksgiving weekend when I went to Dreamstate. By sheer luck or divine guidance, I ran into N, and we reconnected in a way 2017 Adam would have killed for. We danced. We made out. We said sweet nothings to each other the rest of the night… Once the night was over and the dust settled, I, along with all my closest friends, worried I’d relapse. But I didn’t. I. fucking. DIDN’T. And I’m so proud of myself!!! I didn’t because of the newfound confidence and love for myself that didn’t exist a year prior. I’ve rebuilt myself from the incinerated debris of 2017 into someone new, someone better. And I could not have done it without all the boys I dated (and revenge fucked… lol).

I’m ready to date again, but there’s no longer this rabid need to find a boyfriend. Of course, I still fantasize about being married with someone I truly love and am compatible with, but that searing desire that was burning me from the inside out has cooled into a controlled glow. 2019 Adam has learned from 2018 Adam’s mistakes, and I feel confident that next time I date, it’ll be with someone for the right reasons.

#personal bullshit

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unproduciblesmackdown · 7 years ago

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tfw hating life enough for a reeadmooore

‪yesterday afternoon i’d blocked out 3 pgs in my sketchbook & by that night i was thinking like well i’m so close to finished the sketchbook finally (ive been using it about a yr and a half by now) that i could just stop drawing when i hit the end there‬

but i’d mentioned the impending end of my sketchbook space a friend is already in the process of sending over some they havent ever used so that will at least mean if i stop drawing it’ll just have to be because i want to lol

like in this case it’s special b/c of course i’ve had periods where i’m like smh what if i just don’t draw anymore, but that’s tended to be about being frustrated w some element or other of it all. this time it was mostly just that every day of my life i have a tiny bit less motivation or energy or etc. yesterday i was thinking all day about offing myself, which i’d done the day before, and done today too

like, it’s nothing new, i’ve been hating being alive and wanting to kms and only moving in the direction of less disappointment to more disappointment and having to care less about things i previously cared about because for one reason or another things get to a point where it only adds frustration to my life anymore

but despite depression and wanting to die and life being miserble all being Not New, that doesn’t mean that it doesnt matter anymore, because after day after day after day after day after day of it for years and years, you’re in a worse place than you were a while back, even if you do feel the same. even a single day of wishing you were dead the whole time is shitty enough. feeling overall like even if you’re in a good mood now, you know your life is trash and you’re going to go back to feeling bad soon, is also shitty enough

like the thing that drawing had going for me is that, like reading and writing sometimes and even some other shit, it’s something i like to do. i do it for myself, really. but it helps that its the way i trick ppl into being here in the first place to see anything i’m talking about. i have really crap appeal. i mean i’m bad at being appealing thru shit i draw, but it’s still way more of something anybody wants vs like five yrs worth of my text posts. like...i have over 10x more followers than i did on a blog where i rarely drew anything ever

but anyways despite me drawing b/c i enjoy it, i enjoy enjoying things less. always in the middle of that “loss of interest in pleasure” life lol.......it doesn’t really matter how long i do or don’t keep drawing, b/c i mean, it doesn’t much matter to me whether i’m having fun or not. i can be enjoying drawing and still wanting to die, because that’s whats happening lol.....nothing that’s a personal factor of my life is all that important to me, because my personal existence is not that important to the person living it

also it sure hasnt helped that my sense of things like whether my life can get better or i’ll have the opportunity to pursue my nonexistent dreams or live an ideal version of my life that also doesn’t exist are all at all-time lows and only just getting lower day by week by month by year. the only way i can even look at cheering myself up is from a day-to-day perspective. and i can have a slightly more fun day than usual and then be extra down on the very next day b/c of how being a bit less numb means you’re crap-feeling emotions are now game too. and i’m very aware of how, if you’re not in a position that insulates you enough, if things get worse for you, that makes “things getting worse for you” more likely, and it’s an exponential drop that gets harder and harder to climb out of, and even if you move back up a notch out of good luck, you’re still just as likely to be knocked back down to where you were. the odds of me suddenly not only not fucking hating being alive but also having a life that doesnt fucking make me hate being alive? that’s a funny joke

‪also it’s frustrating that whether i feel good or miserable on any given day only really exists if i say something about it in a post like this lol... like i might feel awful one day but if i dont have it in me to spend ages writing about it, which is difficult also b/c putting feelings into words where ppl will only fully Get It if they’ve felt that way too, anyways if i dont write about how shitty i feel and post it then maybe later on when i’m feeling a little better or feeling a different kind of shitty, i also won’t be interested in being like “oh btw i felt awful the other day.” and if i don’t mention it, as far as everyone in the world knows, it was never a thing that happened, so it might as well not have. i mean, as a person i might as well not be happening, especially since i don’t want me to be happening lol‬

and like i was saying to someone the other day, its a lot harder via text to talk about shit b/c like, if you’re with a friend in person, you can talk abt boring or silly things and its easy and makes a good conversation. whereas talking via twitter means it would be clunky and time consuming to layout exactly had empty and depressing my existence is, and silly shit isn’t even worth the energy when you’re having a convo w lengthy gaps in it, so you can only really talk about the broadest, most interesting shit. which i don’t have much of, oh well

i do like talking and talking to people actually, it’s just rough when it’s all a few ppl online, even though i alsp extremely appreciate those people and enjoy the talking. it’s like, chatting to ppl online is like a piece of chocolate cake. it’s delicious and you love it, but it would be amazing if it was the extra bonus on top of getting solid meals every day, instead of it being the only thing you have to eat and you get it maybe once or twice a week and it’s still wonderful and is all the more valuable for it, but it isnt the same as getting enough to eat always, or Knowing you’ll keep getting enough to eat

anyways my social life is always its own special kind of depressing, even when i AM in the same place as friends. you’d have a hard time finding a situation where the concept of What I Have To Say seems interesting or even relevant to other ppl. and im not sure i’ve ever been in groups where i feel totally comfortable with everyone there and don’t feel out of place. so talking about the idea of knowing you always have access to someone to talk to or be with in person or having friends who you know you can hang out with and they actually like you and you still expect to have them a few yrs down the road—all that’s always been a “well, in theory i mean” or “at least, i imagine it would be like that” issue for me

tbh i generally feel the most comfortable enjoying myself when i do something alone; maybe it’s because i have more experience of ppl im around treating me really shittily than treating me well

ohhhhhh wellllllllllllllll what else do i have to talk about. hmmm the fact that feeling like i wanna die only seems to be regarded as an issue of “well are you gonna or not,” aka if you havent its a Victory and a happy situation instead of it being a matter of EVERY DAY I’M A CONSCIOUS ORGANISM I WISH I WAS DEAD AND MY EXISTENCE HAS BEEN HEADED IN THAT DIRECTION FOR AT LEAST THE LAST HALF OF IT

like how heartwarming that i’ve been actively suicidal for how many years? 6? 8? but i havent yet!! i always want to but just never get around to it and so this time for sure lol no more fooling around!! oh dammit and there goes another birthday still alive. like this is some elusive new years resolution or novel i mean to write.

funny i mention it because there’s practically nothing anymore that i want to do. even if i THOUGHT my life would ever become okay, i want fuckall out of it. i only exist, baby............and it’s like i said earlier, whenever i try to come up with a sad amount of potential motivations NOT to die, i have to realize that none of the shit is actually for me, or directly about me, or centered on me. like, this shit lost its charm ages ago.

well anyways. i suppose thats all i can think to say now. and it doesn’t make a difference whether i talk about my shitass existence and how crap i feel or not. it just gives the chance for a bit of it to exist in the world via a few other ppl being aware of it for a few minutes maybe, because who DOESNT want to thoroughly read a shit essay by some random weirdo about how everything sucks. the end

#i was innovative and typed this in twitter dark mode so my phone could have a break from me embedding the keyboard in the screen #anyways i wanna dye 😂😂😂

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treasure-exo · 7 years ago

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Destiny - 2

Genre: Angst

pairing: Chanyeol x reader

Word count: 4502

Description: A tragedy that completely changed your routes to your destiny.

A/N: I’m so sorry I was supposed to post this yesterday but I slept on my laptop while editing. LOL. But seriously I’m really sorry.

As you lay on something fluffy and comfortable, you didn’t know where, it felt new and warm and cozy but somehow empty. Your senses are back and now you could tell that you were lying on a comfortable bed yet somehow you couldn’t open your eyes.

You could feel an elastic strap wrapped around your mouth which was making, rather forcing you to breathe. A steady course of air was covering your mouth and nose. You could feel something piercing on the back of your palm, a long pointed metal - a needle, supposedly - from which a continuous flow of fluid was entering your vein making you realize the flow of blood in your veins from your heart as it thumped rhythmically in your chest at a normal pace.

You could feel something strong, thick and tight surrounding your right ankle which extended up till just below the knee. That made difficult for your leg to move but you were not trying to move it anyway. You could feel soft buds and rough bands twisted and secured on your forehead, your waist, your arms and nearly every place on your skin which had got back it’s senses.

Though you felt comfortable sheets beneath you, there was a pain, a pain which was fading but yet screamed loudest. Your body felt numb and tired and faltered and you were still contemplating what was happening to you and why was this happening to you.

You started hearing things. Faint and recurrent beep coming from a distant, not too far though. A constant buzz from some object and a silent tick which was possibly not from any watch or clock.

You tried to move your finger first, not knowing what you should do when you nearly were captured with bands and cords and straps for which the reason was unknown to you. Your finger lifted, progress you thought. You tried to squeeze your eyelids to know if your eye muscles were working. They were.

You slowly and gradually opened your eyes. One at a time, first your right one and then left one. You met with a ceiling above with nothing but a fire alarm in one corner and dim lights. Moving your iris from corner to corner taking in your surroundings.

What in the absolute hell is this place? You thought, eyes roaming over the ceiling, slowly descending down.

Your eyes made their way down from the ceiling with your neck, after you thought you can move your neck at a slow pace. The sting you felt as you moved your neck from a steady, straight sort to something more comfortable was sharp and blinding. You, for once squeezed your eyes shut from the pain which was from possibly not moving it for so long or from an injury you didn’t know. Taking a deep breath you again opened your eyes, determined to find what was going on.

The air in the room was different, scented with a typical smell. There was some plush seats next to the door by the front wall. As you moved your eyes, scrutinizing the room you saw heavy machines on the left side of you. ECG machine, defibrillator and some you didn’t know. You were so invested in seeing the machines which were connected to you that even though you saw the flower vases and beautiful framed pieces of art on the walls you didn’t bother to take a note. Your eyes advanced and now, you could see yourself - IV weaved through the vein on your left arm that gently laid on the bedsheet, your right leg plastered, your head and hands covered with bandages and you inside a nightgown that looked kind of hospital gown. Which it was.

You were in a hospital. But why? Why am I here? You ask yourself, frowning as you try to remember, but nothing. You can’t remember or think. You thought of all the possible ways but in all of your thoughts you could only picture yourself and black. No one but you, no object, no person, nothing. Annoyed, you dropped to the conclusion that maybe your mind is still fragile and cannot process things.

The atmosphere was completely different from your home, your room. Wait, what room? Which home? You couldn’t remember. You couldn't even remember what the past events that brought you to your current condition. There’s not even a thing or person you remember or recall.

So, you decided to start from the beginning. Your name. You tried hard and there were a few you could remember. Your name or nickname or possibly the names of people around you. But your own name is still unknown. Even when you tried hard you can’t see anything, everything goes in a blur which you can’t make out or the images can’t be made defined.

You want to shift on one side but the machines were holding you back. You sighed, forgetting what new piece of fact you got to know about yourself but there’s actually nothing to forget. Instead, you turned your head away from the machines and looked the other way.

There’s this white curtain which divides the space into two. You can’t see what is beyond that but you were certain of the possibilities you made. Like, the same rhythmic beep and constant buzz and silent tick. And the only possibility was another person.

The room looked expensive and that’s why you wondered why there might be any other person adjoining you. If so, you want to see the other person.

You shifted a little to the right side of the bed, making up your mind to see the person. When you crawled to your side the pain you got from each and every corner was nerve wracking and made you squirm in that moment. More pain. Maybe this was a bad idea but you never cared, you were determined to see who’s next to you. If you continued like that it would be possible that you can get a piece of information of your past.

You shifted further, right hand even though bandaged, managed to extend it to slide the curtain away. The immense pain you were feeling on your waist, on the hand extended and on your leg was not stopping your from backing away.

Your smooth skin touched the white plastic curtain, fingertips enveloping around the hem of the curtain. And you pushed.

The force applied was enough to make the curtain slide but not enough to hit the other end after all you had become weak too. You took back your hand and lifted your eyelids.

You saw him. You felt something.

A sudden jolt of pain, agony and hurt overwhelmed you. You couldn’t differentiate the emotions because they came like a big tsunami wave, washing you over, taking you with it and drowning you at the same time. This anguish was way more than when you tried shifting to open the curtain. You closed your eyes or rather squeezed shut your eyes, trying to get the image of the person out of your mind. You realized you were trembling when you felt the hospital bed below you shaking. Suddenly, breathing became difficult. Lungs not allowing you to take any oxygen in even when there was a ventilator mask on you.

It was like a torture to you and your body, but more specifically your mind. You let your hand drop to your side. Trying to breathe with your mouth now. Chest constricted as you tried more. Futile.

Your mind went on a reel - flashes, events, happenings, occurrences. All a blur appearing before your eyes. You mind was not stopping from adding a new circumstance to the blur of images. They were flashing before your eyes as quickly as they were disappearing. But one thing was common. You could see a person. The same person who is next to you.

But what he was doing, what he was wearing, what he was speaking you could not decipher. You hands grabbed your head now. Holding it tight between them maybe to stop the flash and reel. It was not working. It was hurting you instead. Your hands touched your cheeks and felt water underneath. You were crying. The mask on your nose and mouth becoming foggy as you tried to take in air more and more.

You let out a loud groan, almost like a shout. And in a few seconds came rushing in the nurses, with a doctor from the door in front.

A nurse came by your side and quickly pulled back the curtain. Another one tried to make your head free from your grasp. As more nurses gathered around you, you started thrashing with your one free leg. Your howls becoming more and more loud.

Someone grabbed your left hand on which the IV was threaded and you felt a sudden flow of fluids in your system. They injected something.

Your mind was becoming dizzy as soon as that liquid entered you. Your thoughts were fading and for that you were thankful but also a little dejected because you wanted to know your past. Whatever it might be. With whoever it might be. But just... You wanted to know your past.

The giddiness taking over you, making your eyes heavy and cautiously they closed.

“What happened to my daughter?” A lady yelled.

“I’m not quite sure about it either but seems like she is facing some memory loss,” A doctor mused, looking at a file in between his hands scanning it.

“What do you mean by not sure and SOME memory loss?” your mother asked, banging her hand on the doctor’s desk.

“Not sure means from the outside she looks completely fine, recoverable but when the accident happened, she might have had hit her head and there might be some internal bleeding which we are currently looking into. Also, with some memory loss I mean whenever she wakes up, we try to ask her questions to which she always says she doesn't remember anything, not even her name at first.” he said, looking up from his papers and making an eye contact.

“So that’s why she screamed when she saw me for the first time?”

“Yes, because when she sees someone from before the accident, I mean the ones she knows, her mind tries to bring back her memory in rather a painful manner. But no need to worry, once her mind gathers all the memory of that particular person, she’ll be fine.” doctor nodded, giving a smile before looking at his files again.

“And… uhm.. Uh.. what about that other person?” she asked, cautiously trying not to show any worry in her voice.

“You mean Chanyeol? Her husband?”

“Yes, that person.” she cleared her throat, looking away.

“He’s not awake yet, but other than that I don’t know anything about his case because I’m not the incharge doctor. Also, I’m leaving your daughter’s case.”

“What do you mean leaving!” your mother exclaimed, eyes widening.

“It means now, a different doctor will carry on with both of their cases because I’m leaving for further studies and staying here is sure very tiring.” he affirmed.

“Then what about my daughter?” her voice calmed since she cannot change someone’s decisions.

“Their cases are already sent to the new doctor, trust me you’ll be grateful about it.”

“Who’s this new doctor by the way?” she crossed her hand over her chest, looking sideways.

“His name is Byun Baekhyun.” he smiled.

A smell suddenly wafted into his nose, a strong one like someone just sprayed air freshener. Something tangy with a earthy blend. He scrunched his nose up desperate to take in the fragrance after becoming motionless and feeling nothing for how long he doesn’t know.

Underneath him laid freshly made bedsheet and over him laid a newly washed comforter, tucked gently on either side of the bed. His fingertips on the comforter are feeling a mild cloth underneath. His hands feel heavy like something is up his hand making it stay in one place. His legs feel just as dense and numb.

Actually, he could not feel anything except his fingers. Everything else felt numb and dense and heavy. He tried clenching his fist, but his hands felt limp, unmoving but he could feel by the movement that his one hand responded.

Promptly, the fragrance became overwhelming, the earthy smell making his insides churn for the outside world. To see where he is. He wrung his eyes as a ray of bright light sip through his closed eyelids. He wants to see where he is? What he is on?

He tried to open his eyes. Failed for once. He felt powerless, he felt in a black cloud with nothing to see and nothing to hear. Maybe it’s just the heaviness of his body that he couldn’t open his eyes. Then noises started invading his silence. First some that were nearer, then some which might be far. The vague and unclear sounds becoming more differentiable as time passed. Beeps, buzz and ticks, he sorted. And footsteps, taping on the floor ever so slightly.

He tried again. And again. The next he felt was some light seeping through his half-opened eyes. He thought it would be difficult opening his eyes after the first few futile attempts. But he succeeded. He slowly started blinking, desperately trying to open them wide and take in his surroundings and voices.

He realized even if he tried hard to open his eyes, his one eye won’t. He forgot the stink he felt when he tried to blink his eyes rapidly and instead focused on the plain plafond. He opened his mouth to take in some air but a mask was fixed on his mouth nose which was already supplying oxygen.

Wanting to see his surrounding, he cranked his neck. Pain. He gasped, eyes squeezing. That forgotten or unnoticed stink on his eye is back as he squeezed his eyes. A hiss leaving his lips. He opened his eyes again with a force this time, letting out a breath and taking in a fresh slot of air.

He heard footsteps nearing, almost beside him now and he looked sideways.

A nurse, with a smile on her tiny face.

And beside her were machines, some huge and some small but all looked dangerous. He hadn’t noticed them until he rotated his eyes sideways. And the fact that all the machines were connected to him was even more frightening to him. He gulped, at the realization of him being in a hospital.

“Awake? How are you feeling?” she asked, a concern in her voice which every nurse or doctor seems to have.

He didn’t want to speak or he didn’t yet tried speaking. But he cannot nod or shake for an answer. So he simply opened his mouth trying to form words or rather searching for his voice.

“Yes… feeling okay, I suppose,” he replied, voice strained yet smooth.

“Good, for now you’ll feel numb or heavy because of your dose of medicine but it will eventually fade, so no need to worry about it. Now you know I’ll have to ask you some simple questions… uhm.. Is that okay for you?”

“Fine, go ahead,” he was surprised he could form and utter words which he thought in his mind.

“First, what is your name?” she quickly took out a pen from her pocket and started scribbling something on her notepad which already existed in her hands.

He felt weird, as to why a nurse would ask their patient about basic things when they all have the patient history with them. After a possibly long pause he answered.

“I’m Park Chanyeol.”

“Very good. Second, how many family members do you have?” she asked, looking up from her notepad towards Chanyeol still smiling.

“Four. My mother, my father, my sister and I.” he asserted, frowning at silly questions being asked.

“Oh… uhm.. Are you married?”

“What do you mean marriage? I’m still very young for marriage. So no I’m not married.” his voice getting a little loud but not too loud to scare the nurse away.

“Fine, now you know I’ll show you something or someone instead, tell me if you know that person, alright?”

Chanyeol hummed. The nurse turned around now her back facing to Chanyeol. He noticed there was a curtain separating the lavish room which he felt strange because no one from his family could be able to afford this room. And on that instant the curtain drew open with a swishing sound bringing him back from his thoughts.

The nurse stepped aside and his eyes saw a girl, beautiful he thought. Just when he was about to turn back to the nurse, something in his mind jabbed. He blinked, breathing heavy. There were sparks, flares and glints and in between them he could see the same girl, her face blear but he was sure the girl was the same. Now breathing more fiercely, chest moving up and down swiftly. He closed his eyes but it didn’t help. All he could see was her in between flickers. The ECG monitor started beeping faster, the graph on it shrinking.

He thought he was about to faint, with the overwhelming waves of flash. Someone held his shoulder, gently as if scared to hurt him. The touch became firm and someone was shaking him out of his trance. He opened his eyes with a start. His breathing heavy yet becoming normal.

He licked his dry lips, sighing when all the previous visions faded. The nurse was calming him down. He looked past her, on the other side. A white screen in between. The curtain was closed again.

“Are you listening me? Can you hear me? It is passing, it’ll pass. Just take breathes slowly. Concentrate on your breathing. You’re doing good. Keep it up. Keep going.”

He lifted his eyes to look at her. She wasn’t touching him just looking at him, with a smile and appreciative words. He took the last heavy breathe before sighing.

“We’ll discontinu-”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll answer everything.” he cut her off.

“Um.. fine … How do you think you ended up here?”

“I don’t know. That was the question I wanted to ask from the very beginning but I thought I might have faced an accident while I was going to college.” he predicted, bringing his other hand on his lap.

“Wait, how old do you think you are? And, in which year we are living?” she asked, curiosity visible in her tone as he looked up, smile replaced by something different which Chanyeol could not decipher.

“Stop asking me stupid questions already. But as you are my nurse I’ll answer, I’m 20 and the year we’re leaving in is 2012.”

“Baekhyun!” your mother exclaimed, waving her hand in the air when Baekhyun noticed her.

“Hello auntie, long time no see, how have you been these days?” he asked, walking to her with a wide grin on his face.

“You know, not so good,” her face fell, looking outside the hallway window.

“Yeah, I can understand after all they are your daughter and son-in-law.” he mumbled, lips forming a straight line. “As you now know I got their case, I want to tell you the details about them and their progress so can you please follow me to my cabin.” he instructed, turning away and walking with some papers in his hands and a stethoscope.

Your mother nodded and simply followed him. Legs getting quick matching Baekhyun's pace. When she entered Mr and Mrs Park were already there. She sat across the table with Parks as he laid his papers on the table and intertwined his fingers, both elbows on the desk.

“Starting from Mr and Mrs Park, your son - Chanyeol gained consciousness yesterday. You might know it I suppose as you paid a visit.” Baekhyun took a pause, then started. “He’s stable now. His head injury isn’t that bad and he will recover in two weeks, approximately. He was able to recognize the Park family and that’s a good sign.”

Mama Park was listening to him carefully, eagerly and worriedly while Mr Park was rubbing her back to calm her down. Calm her nervousness. Her feet were tapping on the ground and fingers fidgeting with each other.

“But, due to the head injury he faced, he is facing something right now. And that is memory loss, not as severe as your daughter-in-law in which she wasn’t able to recognize anyone, not even her name. But he remembered everything until the year 2012. He thinks he’s still 20, unmarried and a college student. So in short, he’s living in 2012.”

“Do you know what happened in 2012? I mean some incident that might be very good or very bad because after a certain period of time in 2012 he’s not getting where he is.” Baekhyun’s hands are still intertwined now his hand resting on them. He was waiting for an answer or reply, anything that could help him with Chanyeol’s memory loss.

Finally, after a very long moment mama Park opened her mouth to say something, to give a reply. “Yes, you are right something very crucial happened in 2012. My son fell in love.” she sighed, eyes on her fingers fidgeting with each other on her lap slowly letting out.

“Oh,” Baekhyun sputtered, the only word he was able to let out.

“Now, if there interrogation is completed, Baekhyun will you please tell me what happened to my daughter?” your mother interrupted. “In person.”

Baekhyun was so engrossed in with Parks that when your mother interrupted he was taken aback. “I… oh.. Ok.”

He looked at your mother and then again at Mrs Park indicating them to leave with a silent apology. Mrs Park nodded and stood up, pulling Mr Park up and out of the room with her.

“So, your daughter?” he asked, rather like talking to himself as he opened a different file and started scanning through it.

“You already know your daughter is having a severe memory loss. But, I want to add that her memory will be back. Sure it will take some time but her memory will be back just as Chanyeol’s will be back.” he smiled, reassuringly.

“H..how?”

“You can only tell the difference, at first about one week ago when she regain her consciousness she used to scream and held her head tight as if that memory lane of yours were triggered but now slowly seeing you she don’t scream or trash, she just gives a smile like some memories of you are back. So my point is if she sees Chanyeol more often her memories can come back.” he gushed, his tone getting high as he tried to explain and convince your mother.

“What if you don’t want to?”

“What?!” he gasped, his eyebrows knitting together.

“You heard me right, what if I don’t want to bring her memories which include Chanyeol?” she whispered, leaning on the desk her voice dropping an octave. She smirked.

“I can’t-”

“Please Baekhyun, you just have to tell his parents that they can’t see each other. For the sake of their health. Just say if they see each other, it will only affect their mind and may result in prolonged health issues.” your mother implied, suggestively.

Baekhyun shook his head more than he should, eyes wide open. “I.. I can’t do that. That’s illegal and I don’t do that kind of things. Please don’t force me.”

“Look, you know that I don’t like that Chanyeol guy, he came and ruined my daughter’s life. He can’t even afford a car with some multiple airbags. They both argue all the time and love they say, I can’t seem to find that especially in him. His family also don’t own any huge business and she just don’t understand her life will be in vain without enough money.” she sighed, letting her hands fall on her lap.

“Autie, I must be wrong but money isn’t everything like you show it is. There’s love and there’s life too. If there is love between them, they will overcome the problems efficiently. Also, you cannot judge someone by how much money they have. Sure, Chanyeol’s parents don’t own a huge business but his father do a respectable job. That’s all what matters.” he looked away, voice strained and heavy.

“You like her, don’t you? I knew from the beginning but i kept quiet. I wanted her to marry you, she would have been so happy with you. Your father being our family friend, I was sure you two would have been a great pair.” she was using her tactics on him now. She called it business skills.

Baekhyun looked at her like he just got caught. Eyes drifting down as he stood up. Then, he nodded. He stood by the window looking outside, hands in his coat’s pockets.

“See, it’s written all over your face that you like her. Please give her and yourself a chance when life have given you the opportunity. Grab it, will you? I know you will why even I’m asking. So, you are going to tell his parents that, right?” she asked, almost pleading. And she knew he had already fallen in her trap.

Your mother was waiting outside of Baekhyun’s cabin the whole time when he called Mr and Mrs Park inside. She was tapping her feet on the ground nervously as to see what would be the end result. She even stood up and started pacing when they took longer than she thought. Yes, I’ll give myself a chance Baekhyun’s reply constantly played in her mind like a reel.

She was standing by the window looking the outside world in a haste when she heard the door clicked shut. She turned and looked at his parents fallen faces. She won.

“Mrs Park I need to talk to you,” she said, walking towards her.

Mrs Park nodded and followed her to the end of the hallway. She looked at your mother with misery. She thought about what your mother want to say. She was right from the very beginning when the accident happened. So she stood there without saying anything.

“I think it’s the time.” your mother began.

“I think now we should let our children enjoy their freedom and let them live their own life. Free.”

“Talking about letting them live their lives free. I agree. So I think you should stop meddling in your daughter’s life. That’s freedom.” Mrs Park shoot back.

“That’s for their own betterment. I’m not saying I like meddling in my daughter’s life but for her sake I should at least do it.” her anger was rising inside her but she kept her voice calm, otherwise what she wanted would just go ineffective.

“Yeah, whatever.” mama Park scoffed, shaking her hand in front of your mother as if shoving her away.

“What I’m saying is … they both should be separated.”

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