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mrsalwayswrite · 4 months

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come.

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods.

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives.

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance.

And Ivar relished every moment.

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated.

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them.

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives.

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come.

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act.

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him.

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come.

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted.

Fucking pathetic.

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer.

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it.

"Wake him up."

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man.

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now.

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement.

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief.

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?”

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case.

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue.

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination.

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane.

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.”

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white.

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her.

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain.

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off.

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover.

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side.

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–”

Another smack reverberated in the air.

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out.

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse.

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!”

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill.

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands.

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha.

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing.

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise.

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs.

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of.

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still.

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin.

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?”

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered.

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now.

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.”

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic.

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face.

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed.

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high.

“You live!”

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence.

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?”

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim.

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them.

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real.

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm.

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest.

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side.

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out.

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name.

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water.

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket.

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn.

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?”

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number.

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief.

Someone was calling him about Kari.

As an emergency contact.

From a hospital.

Where she is a patient.

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him.

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him.

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying.

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her.

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting.

He had promised.

And he failed.

Again.

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again.

“Yes.” He croaked out.

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call.

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic.

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed.

“What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror.

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.”

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option.

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes.

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her.

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass.

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel.

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort.

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind.

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on.

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

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xoxoskai · 6 months

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Before anything else, I want to make it abundantly clear that these are all speculations.

I have taken whatever I could from the books and little hints and crumbs and come up with this theory and in no way does it reflect what will really be in the book.

Before I present my theory as to who the White Mask is, I want to cover who it isn't.

1. Vaughn Morozov

For everyone who doesn't know who Vaughn is, he's Kirill and Sasha's son and was, until recently, prime suspect #1 but Rina confirmed he will not be a part of Legacy of Gods so that essentially votes him out of this immediately.

2. Remington Astor

Before I started reading this series and had only heard of the White Mask, my first immediate guess went to the most unsuspecting person, Remi. Simply because no one would expect that from him and also because chances were that my man had more demons in his closet than he was letting on (like his Dad). However, he is not getting a book and the White Mask mystery is too good to not be revealed in a book which made me rule him out (sorrows and prayers, RemiAri you will always be famous)

3. Eli King

First of all, why would a 26 y/o participate in a passtime game of tag with college students? He's preparing to inherit an entire kingdom and I can't see him chasing people around for shits and giggles or for a more bloodthirsty reason. He simply does not have the time for it. Besides, even if he's not part of the Elites, he's dedicated to the entire united front that the Kings love to showcase which he won't betray just to satisfy his bloodlust (he might have other methods for it that does not require him to join the Heathens).

Which brings me to my prime suspect,

Ava Nash

Over the course of the first three books (Legacy of; Malice, Pain and Wrath), there were a lot of things that were said about Ava or in connection to her that hinted on something far more than simply words tossed to the wind.

(I will be referencing all of them and going forward will refer to the White Mask as WM)

I think the first, most obvious conclusion most people made was that the White Masked Heathen could be a girl. While the four known Heathens are all described as tall and muscular, it was specifically mentioned that WM was leaner.

(God of Wrath, Chapter 1, pg. 10)

Comes and goes as they please.

(God of Malice, Chapter 19, pg. 1)

Cherry could seduce the guards but not WM.

(God of Malice, Chapter 38, pg. 13)

Choice of weapon: Chains.

I always found this the most interesting because Killian, Jeremy and Nikolai rely on their strengths to wield their weapons whether it's a bat or a golf club or bare fists. It takes a considerable amount of power to swing those and inflict enough damage and pain.

But chains are easier to maneuver if you do not possess the actual strength to physically overpower your opponent. They can be swung at someone, used to disarm them or trip people or effectively cut air supply without exerting too much energy.

(God of Wrath, Chapter 1, pg. 9; God of Malice, Chapter 16, pg. 2)

Yes, I hear you. All of this is nice and good and obvious but where does Ava fit in?

Remember when Ava Nash took a shot for having done illegal things but not elaborating? There is so much more to her than what meets the eye.

Time and again, Ava has displayed tendencies that depict that violence does not bother that. That she finds it fun.

God of Malice, Chapter 7, pg. 2; God of Wrath, Chapter 4, pg. 8; God of Pain, Chapter 5, pg. 3; God of Wrath, Epilogue 2, pg. 1; God of Wrath, Chapter 25, pg. 2 God of Wrath, Chapter 25, pg. 2

Most Heathens: Jeremy, Killian and Nikolai partake in the brutal initiation to satiate their bloodlust of some sort. While Ava might not necessarily have the same level of thirst for violence as them, she is definitely a rule-breaker, loves treading the line between what is allowed and what isn't and has the most inside knowledge about the Heathens, something I will discuss in more detail soon.

If it's not obvious enough still,

Rina Kent does not like going with the obvious. She loves surprises and plot twists and I love getting surprised and having my mind blown.

Ava finds the entire concept of the initiation "fun" when mostly everyone outside of the Heathens has expressed distaste.

The reason I brought up WM's weapon of choice is because it was fascinating to me how Rina didn't go the conventional way of making Ava a pianist or a violinist which are usually what music majors in fiction pursue. She's a cellist. So, she probably has experience lugging her instrument to and from places. It speaks of considerable strength that she probably has carrying an instrument that weighs roughly 5-7 pounds around the campus daily, for years.

Every LoG book so far has been a Heathen X REU pairing.

Killian Carson X Glyndon King

Annika Volkov X Creighton King

Jeremy Volkov X Cecily Knight

Mia Sokolov X Landon King

Nikolai Sokolov X Brandon King

And lastly, Ava Nash X Eli King.

MORE STUFF SOON<3

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magnetothemagnificent · 2 months

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Given your evident love of magneto what are your thoughts on the man who arguably began his more modern interpretations Chris Claremont? I’ve hard a decent amount of criticism on how often he used kitty pride to say the N word.

I think Claremont was wrong for having Kitty say the N-word outright and I think as a non-Black man his decisions to have the word be used and make a direct comparison between the oppression Black people face and the oppression the fictionalized mutants face were misguided.

It's one thing to make an allegory, it's another to make a one-on-one comparison when Claremont himself is not Black. Claremont is Jewish, and therefore his explicit comparison of the oppression mutants face in his universe to antisemitism is something he is at liberty to explore. He does also makes many explicit comparisons to the Holocaust in his runs, and as a Jew I don't really have an issue because he is a Jewish man and the comparisons were made my Magneto, a Jewish character.

This is one of the incidents of Kitty saying the N-word, in Claremont's hit story "God Loves, Man Kills":

The context of this is that Kitty got into a fight with some other teens because they were espousing anti-mutant rhetoric. Stevie Hunter, her ballet teacher, tells her to calm down. Kitty, being a teenager, got fired up at Stevie's passivity, and tries to make a point.

Of course, we as readers know that as a Black woman, Stevie knows from experience to keep her head down, but to Kitty Pryde, a white-passing person who had only discovered her powers (and new marginalized status) mere years before, is not used to this new marginalization. I say "new marginalization" because Kitty has always been a marginalized character even before her mutation, being Jewish. Kitty, especially in the runs under Claremont, is drawn as not just openly Jewish with her Star of David necklace and numerous references to her Jewishness, but also racialized as Jewish with her thick, dark curly hair (a stereotype of Ashkenazi Jews). But as a light-skinned generally white-passing Jew from the suburbs of Chicago, it's likely she didn't experience as much antisemitism as much as Stevie faced antiblackness.

I think the real issue is less of Kitty saying the word but rather in the next panel Stevie saying that she was right to make that comparison. In the X Men universe, the mutants are a marginalized class, but so are Black people. I think Claremont was trying to shift the themes of the X Men narrative as being not just an allegory for the Holocaust, but also for Civil Rights (Indeed, the opening scene of God Loves, Man Kills, is of two Black children being lynched by a religious extremist mob), but he did so rather clumsily by our standards.

The time Kitty did say the N-word intentionally as an insult was in Uncanny X-Men #196:

This exchange occurs after Kitty overhears Phil and his friends plotting against other mutants. She barges in, and they turn on her (they end up knocking her out and kidnapping her). I do not think it was appropriate for Kitty to use the N-word in this way, and I don't think Claremont should have written her as saying such, but in the context it is one marginalized person calling another person a targeted slur, and the other person responding in turn. Not appropriate, but in the scene it is an emotionally charged moment where both sides of the exchange are in the wrong.

The final instance I can think of where Kitty uses the N-word is in conjunction with a bunch of other slurs to give an example. She is giving a speech at a school where one of the students committed suicide because of the anti-mutant bullying he faced. While I did censor the instances of the N-word in the previous two images, I'm not going to do so for this one because it's in conjunction with a bunch of other slurs, and if I censored each one, the context would be lost.

Kitty calls herself a series of slurs and insults (notably, an antisemitic slur. Remember, Kitty is a proud Jew). She then lists off other slurs, which includes the N-word, but also an anti-Latino slur, an anti-Italian slur, an anti-Asian slur, and the F-slur. She also uses "Mutie" again, which is an anti-mutant slur in the Marvel universe. To our modern ears (or rather, eyes), this is inappropriate, but this was published in 1983 and the ideas we have today about not saying slurs even in non-targeted ways weren't the same.

I think Kitty's usage of the N-word (and other slurs) is used to make it obvious to the readers that the mutant narrative is an allegory for other narratives in our world, namely racism, antisemitism, and homophobia, but it isn't done perfectly. If it was a Black mutant character making these comparisons, just like Magneto is a Jewish mutant making direct comparisons to the Holocaust, it might read a bit better. I don't know for sure, and I'm not Black myself, but perhaps then it would be slightly more appropriate. Kitty was written to be a very outspoken character who says things as they are, but it wasn't her place as a non-Black person to make those direct comparisons, even if she herself is marginalized in other ways.

As for Claremont himself........I think he is a legend and despite his controversies, the X Men, and Magneto especially, wouldn't be the icons they are today. Claremont took the X Men from a run-of-the-mill superhero team and Magneto from a run-of-the-mill villain and made them inherently political and an explicit allegory for other issues present in our world. This tradition that Claremont started has only continued with other Marvel writers drawing parallels between queer issues and mutant issues, and fan speculation about parallels with disability rights (which I would love to see tackled in canon). Claremont's contributions to the X Men canon are invaluable, and I loved what he did with Magneto. Is he perfect? Of course not. You'd be hard pressed to find a writer who is. I think he tried to tell a story, and sometimes stumbled just by virtue of his own inexperience with the identities he was trying to depict, and suffered from trying to make too many explicit references to real world events and issues (Which many comic writers in his time struggled with). And, notably, he hasn't continued to make those mistakes in more recent publications, which I think is significant.

[id in alt text]

#marvel comics #chris claremont #racism #antiblackness #n-word mention #slurs #media analysis #critical thinking #media criticism #kitty pryde #x men comics #marvel #nuance #antisemitism

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stemwriter · 8 months

Text

Pursuit of Knowledge - Chapter 1

Finally, the first chapter! Criticism is absolutely welcome here, and I hope you enjoy!

This has a gender neutral reader, and is just the regular sentience au; no cult/creator/imposter stuff. Only main difference, [Y/N] is a lore fanatic.

Word count: ~3.3k

So there you were, sitting in your bedroom waiting for Genshin Impact to download. You had heard that it was a huge game, but for some reason your screen only said that there were only around 10 gigabytes of data. ‘I guess 10 gigabytes is pretty big for a mobile game,’ you thought, as the progress bar slowly made its way to 100%.

The stone doors opened, your screen went white, and the opening cutscene you’ve seen a million times before in all those video essays began to play.

Outlanders, your journey ends here.

You’d thought about which sibling you would pick before. You loved seeing Lumine as the villain, and so without hesitation, picked the boy, named Aether.

You’d seen some gameplay before, and you already thought the graphics were good, but this… This was astounding. It was better than what you’d seen before online. Your character didn’t look exactly realistic so to speak, but everything looked extremely high quality. How was this game free? You guessed the difference between this and what you remember was because you were playing on PS5, and began to move on through the story.

After getting the power of Anemo and seeing the Anemo God himself, you met Amber. You spammed through the dialogue, just wanting to get to Mondstadt.

“Ah! A hilichurl!”

“Quick, get it!”

She said “Get it!” like that hilichurl was no more than a bug in someone’s house, about to be killed for no reason other than being there. That… worried you, considering what hilichurls once were. You knew you had to kill this camp of hilichurls to progress the story, but you told yourself that starting now, you wouldn’t be killing any hilichurls unless you were forced to by the plot or you really needed resources.

After a mildly annoying amount of walking, you entered the city and ran to the Cathedral plaza to get your Wind Glider. Amber gave it to you, and you glided across the city, which seemed different, somehow, although you couldn’t tell what was wrong. You were then promptly thrown into the sky, shooting wind projectiles at a dragon.

“I’m preventing your fall with the power of a thousand winds!”

“HOLY CRAP! It’s God!”

“Concentrate on this! See yourself grasping the wind. Harness its energy.”

You listened to Venti instruct you on this gamemode you didn’t think you’d ever use again, making ‘pew pew pew!’ sounds as Dvalin’s HP bar slowly decreased.

It was the moment you’ve been waiting for. The Traveler lands, and the camera cuts to that blue-haired eyepatch man, one of your favorite characters, Kaeya. You waited until he finished his dramatic introduction, and yelled “WOOOOOOOO!!!!” at the top of your lungs. You thought about playing an audience cheering sound effect, but realized it’s too late now and you don’t even have your soundboard open. You should get that ready in a minute. You’ve already heard this before, so you skip through the dialogue. Well, at least Amber’s lines. You let Kaeya finish everything he has to say.

‘From afar? Is that all we know of them?’

“Surprisingly, yes.” You said, thinking about how you know so much about everyone in Teyvat yet know close to nothing about the main character. You knew they were older than 500, and they had a sibling, but just who were they? You focused back on the game, sighing after hearing Kaeya say he understands being separated from family, feeling your heart growing heavy as you remember his backstory. “You need someone to talk to, man, I’m all ears.” If there was one thing you really knew about his personality, it was that he needed a therapist.

You entered the HQ and listened to the group devise a plan. You still didn’t know why you were only taking care of 3 temples, but you would eventually figure that out, right? Right? You pulled on Noelle’s banner 10 times, only getting her, a sword called… Flute? and some 3 star weapons that you figured wouldn’t help you for long. You equipped The Flute on the Traveler, tested it out a bit, and set off to the three temples.

By the time you were done with Amber’s, you decided that you were absolutely not going to follow any instructions the system gave you. No one can tell you what you can do!

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

Kaeya was… perplexed, to say the least, when he prepared to walk up to Amber and a traveler she was with. For a split second, he could have sworn he saw everything turn gray, and strange, colorful, circles appeared around everyone’s joints. Already, he wondered if he was hallucinating, but then he heard the sound of someone cheering that felt as if it was coming from the traveler, but he didn’t open his mouth. Amber didn’t seem to react to it, either. That meant either neither of them noticed it, or he was seeing and hearing things. Assuming it was the latter, he continued on, making a mental note to keep watch of it.

“Hold on Amber, are you perhaps forgetting to introduce us?”

“Oh… right. This i- Thes-”

‘From afar? Is that all we know of them?’

“Surprisingly, yes.”

That voice! Again, but this time, it directly replied to his thoughts. Was it not a hallucination? Just what in Teyvat was this? He had a strong feeling that it was connected to the Traveler, but how could it see what he was thinking just then? He needed to investigate this, that’s for sure.

“Long st-”

“I see. Welcome to Mondstadt - though you haven’t arrived at the best of times, I’m afraid.”

The Traveler had been separated from his sister, and came to Mondstadt looking for help finding her. He knew how he felt. When Diluc left Mondstadt for all those years, he spent every day worried, wondering if he would ever return.

“I understand the anguish of being separated from family. I’m not sure why you’re looking for the Anemo God… but everyone has their secrets, right?”

“You need someone to talk to, man, I’m all ears.”

The voice was… comforting him now? Interesting.

Who was this traveler? He certainly wasn’t your average tourist. He’d taken him, his… companion, and Amber to the Knights of Favonius headquarters to see Master Jean, and while that conversation went somewhat normal, the atmosphere quickly became… unnerving as soon as it ended. The others stood still in the room, not saying a word. After a few moments, the Traveler left the room, and Kaeya could swear he saw him swinging a weapon in the main hall, but if he was, why didn’t any of the other Knights stop him?

Waiting at the Temple of the Wolf, he thought about his experience earlier. He realized that Amber never finished a sentence, but somehow he understood everything she said. Amber never told him the Traveler’s story, yet he knew it. Did that have to do with that voice? That strange presence? It didn’t seem like it was intending anything bad by the way it spoke to him, but this whole situation was just so… strange.

Kaeya walked around a bit and cleared the area of any potential threats, and after what felt like an hour, the Traveler finally arrived at the temple. He honestly was expecting him to take longer, considering he likely helped Amber first, but it was a surprise to not have to wait quite as long as he thought. How long did it take him to get there? He was a long way from the city of Mondstadt, yet he couldn’t even remember the journey to get here now. Could everything strange he’d experienced be caused by that presence? Hallucinations, memory issues; just what was going on?

“You’ve arrived,” he said, slightly hoping that voice didn’t respond and that it really was all in his head. “Come closer. Do you smell that?”

Unfortunately, it was not, in fact, all in his head.

“How in the world do you burn a Pyro Slime?”

‘It’s the smell of burnt Pyro Slimes.”

How did it know what the Traveler was going to say before he said it? Could it be… influencing him in some way? He continued on, wanting to get these temples taken care of so he could have time to investigate this, whatever this is. He watched as the Traveler walked up to the doors of the domain, and… teleported through them? ‘This day just keeps getting weirder…’ he thought, before entering the domain himself.

“Let me show you how the Knights of Favonius conquer our adversaries,” he said. Although he was about to fight, his body relaxed, and a chill went down his spine. He tried to snap himself out of it, but he found he couldn’t move. The hell…? After a couple of seconds, his body sprinted forward, as that voice said “Alright, here we go,” with a sigh. It was behind this, too? What was this? His heart pounded. He was powerless. It could do whatever it wanted with him, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. No one would know other than those affected… Why did he not mention this to anyone before? He tried to fight against it, but he still couldn’t move a muscle.

It felt as if he wasn’t fully in his body, as if he was only watching as his body was being puppeteered by some unknown entity. What did it want with him? The Traveler really was being influenced by them, wasn’t he? Was he too, being possessed by it? It seemed the entity could only use one body at a time, but while it was using one, the other completely disappeared.

Forget waiting until this Stormterror crisis was over, he needed to do something as soon as possible, before anyone else was affected by it! It couldn’t keep its hold over him for too long, right? He needed to get back to Mondstadt as soon as possible, to at least tell someone before it takes control of him again. He didn’t want to leave the Traveler like this, but he would have to if he was to do anything about it.

He calmed down a bit, as it didn’t instantly try to harm him, but he started to get concerned for his safety again when the entity made him jump over a pit of spikes in water. The water could very easily be frozen and walked on, avoiding the spikes entirely, and yet it made him jump over the pit. Nothing bad happened, though. Was it that confident in its, and to an extent, his, abilities? Or was it planning something more… violent? After the crystal was destroyed at the end of the temple, he felt like he was back in his body again, the entity no longer having control over him. Still, he didn’t want it to know he was trying to get away, so he started to speak as if nothing out of the expected happened. But why was it laughing?

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

You knew of a little trick you could do in this next cutscene, the one where Diluc comes out of nowhere and obliterates an Abyss Mage. You chuckle to yourself as you pull up a video.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind OST - Giorno's Theme『il vento d'oro』

03:45 ━━━━━━━⬤──── 05:27

As the Abyss Mage comes out from the shadows, you hit Play on the video and watch as Diluc charges in, the song syncing to his movements. You could swear you saw a confused look on his face, but you assumed you were either seeing things, or that you just misremembered the cutscene. You didn’t remember every single detail, after all.

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

…Of course that didn’t work. As soon as he left the temple, he fell into the entity’s control once again. It didn’t help that he never saw Diluc leave the temple. If he did, he might have a chance at getting him to notice something’s wrong. It also appeared that he and the Traveler were not the only people it had decided to use as its puppets. At various times, he would be thrown out of his body completely and watch as it uses another. He noticed not only the Traveler, but Amber, Noelle, and for a short while, Lisa.

It encountered a Ruin Guard at the Thousand Winds Temple. It used Amber to destroy the automaton’s core, stunning it, before using him to counter the Pyro element on it. It got back up again, but it wasn’t up for long before it was defeated, falling to the grou-

*lego breaking noise*

*metal pipe falling*

“*snickering* God, I love having a soundboard…”

What were those noises? Those didn’t come from the Ruin Guard, did they? Were they made by that “soundboard” thing?

After that, there were an abundance of strange noises, almost always accompanied by the entity laughing.

He also realized that it wasn’t killing any monsters; in fact, it even knew some Hilichurlian. Whatever this entity was, it didn’t appear to be intending to harm anything. It wasn’t killing any monsters, and it was giving him equipment that felt like it made him stronger. Did it even know it was controlling him like this? If not, would it continue if it knew?

Regardless of if they knew or not, they continued on, at one point using him to cross the ocean to an island he had never seen mapped before. It took a fair bit of time, considering how far out it was. After a few minutes, what sounded to be a recording of someone’s voice began to play, likely by this entity to prevent boredom.

At the beginning, it brought up what he believed was happening to him now, and went on to say how it might work. How gaining a “character” means the Traveler can now connect to the essence of the person, harnessing their abilities, and how getting more “constellations” gives a deeper connection. He had heard of people having their own constellation, but he couldn’t make any sense of it in this context. While he was very concerned on how people knew any of this, it only further confirmed his theory that whoever this was using his body had not a clue on what they were really doing.

The recording ended up discussing very intriguing things. He was confused on why they were referring to people as “characters” at the beginning, but the whole time, they were referring to Teyvat and its past, present, and future as if it was nothing but a fictional story, constantly mentioning the “plot”, “chapters”, “roles”, and such. Is that what this was to them? The recording mainly focused on the “fate” of Teyvat, and how it could possibly be changed. It had been a topic he had been endlessly thinking about, and this left him with… mixed feelings. On one hand, the Traveler may be the key to changing fate, and it gave him hope that things might actually end well for him. But on the other hand, would he really have to rely on someone else to decide his fate?

They found many chests on the island, and discovered someone’s notebook, which said that something strange happens here in the very early morning hours. The entity seemed confused for a bit, appearing to be looking for something, before sounding disappointed. They did another lap around the island, making sure they collected everything, and then teleported back to near Windrise, still seeming a bit confused.

They went north to the Stormbearer Mountains, and headed towards a watchtower, likely to get a better view of their surroundings. They weren’t about to get up there without a fight, though. Crossbow-armed hilichurls surrounded the place. Instead of taking them out then and there, they tried to just walk by, finding a good time to climb. He could tell they weren’t prepared for this, that they were overwhelmed. They shrieked as a Pyro hilichurl shot at him, trying to run away from the projectile.

This should be common sense, but one thing he knew about combat; when you dodge, don’t go running directly into the attack.

A flaming arrow hit him right in the jugular, and he was met with a world of searing pain. He didn’t know if it was this entity making him do it, but he let out a scream as it hit. The arrow had disappeared. He stood there, now choking, though his body did not react. Would this be how he died? By an arrow shot from a hilichurl he could easily take care of if he could just-

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Suddenly, everything was fine.

No pain, no wound, and he had the taste of chicken in his mouth.

They healed him from what was very easily a fatal wound just like that? That was why they were being so reckless, wasn’t it?

It had seemed like whatever was in control of him had no clue what they were doing, but how? How could they not know? Surely they must notice that something’s off, right?

At one point, they tried to climb up the Knights of Favonius building with Amber and fell, which caused her to disintegrate. He panicked, but soon after, she appeared again as if absolutely nothing had happened. Apparently, they had the power to revive people they were using, as well as heal fatal wounds. Sure, that was great that neither he nor anyone else this was happening to would have to fear dying, but that meant that if they wanted to, they could kill and revive someone under their control over and over again. It was a good thing they seemed to have no intentions of doing such a thing…

They were exploring for hours, during which time Kaeya’s thoughts mostly consisted of reactions to things they were saying or doing, with a little existential dread creeping in every now and then, wondering if he was ever going to gain back control. The sun went down, and soon after that, they said “Alright Teyvat, I’ll be back to conquer you tomorrow! I’m gonna go pass out!” That was a bit… direct, and he wasn’t entirely sure if they were joking by the “conquer” bit due to the events of the last couple of hours, but regardless, it was over. He nearly fell over after they left, not expecting to suddenly gain back control of his body again. Now, the question is, how does he go about solving this? Before he thought about that, he decided he needed a drink since he had some time to spare, and so he headed to Angel’s Share.

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

After finishing Lisa’s temple, you were free to explore Teyvat. You spent some time exploring Mondstadt, collecting Anemoculi, before going back to where you started. You knew of that unmapped island, and now that you had the power to ice bridge, you were going to go there. You knew it would take a while, so you put on another video essay explaining a Genshin theory to listen to, and began the journey.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t do everything. You were able to get a bunch of chests, but the quest there needed the time of day to be between 2 and 5 AM to progress. You remembered there being a time skip button, but you looked everywhere and just couldn’t find it. So, you had to go back to the mainland, defeated. Come to think of it, how long was the day/night cycle? It’s been over an hour and the sun’s barely moved. Was the in game time synced to real time? If so, why the hell would they make a quest that can only progress in the middle of the night? You figured that you’re just missing something, and started thinking about something else before you got too stressed out.

You played for a couple of hours, getting used to the combat system. It was fun, but you felt like the enemies did a bit too much damage. Seriously, one arrow from a low-level hilichurl shouldn’t almost one-shot your character! You felt pretty tired, and not wanting to struggle to keep your eyes open, you decided to log out, and continue your Magical Adventure™ tomorrow.

------------------------------------------------------------

And pass out you did, falling asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow. You ended up sleeping for a while, so by the time you got up, it was already pretty late in the morning. You had some errands to run, so you showered, got ready, and took care of them.

You had nothing else to do today, so you decided to open Genshin again and continue your adventure. The world loads in, and there you are, with your team of Aether, Amber, Noelle and- hold on where’s Kaeya? Maybe you removed him for some reason. You were pretty tired. You go to the party select screen, and select hi-

*This character is busy.*

What the hell does that mean?

#sagau #genshin fanfic #baby’s first fanfic #genshin sentience au #ao3 #fanfic #genshin impact #Pursuit of Knowledge

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correctproseka · 7 months

Text

So @queer-prosekai told me to do my own top 10 list of the sets + my favorite card of each, so here's some rules i set for myself

1- i have to REALLY like the full set, not just really like a card but a little less to the others (cough Saki in no seek no find, for one example. Though other sets have also triggered this rule)

2- i also am judging by card only, not the story, however. I am not completely good at this because a lot of the cards that are already good get to be way better because of the event behind it.

3- only counting the trained cards, not untrained, it would be a very different list.

ANYWAYS. LIST STARTS NOW:

10: LIGHT UP THE FIRE

Oh my poor child are you okay??? Going past how much i like this event. Which would get me here writing for hours mind you. I also just really like the set. The dark colors and the fact that in all 3 cards you can barely see color- its black and then each has their own color showing up, An has red, Toya has blue and Rin has white. It just gives a fucking impact on you looking at them. Would not change a thing, really.

9: WISHING TO THE BLUE SKY FOR YOUR HAPPINESS

Anyone else remembers qhen this set just totally broke us? Oh my god. I do. Shizuku in a suit. An in this pretty ass dress. I just cjsjcjsmcjsncjdj. It was mainly those two that really hit for me, specially An. But when it hit it hit hard man

8: SMILE OF A DREAMER

It was the first lim set, so it was really simple compared to what we get now. But simple doesn't mean bad. I really love the colors and idk man i have a soft spot for it i cant defend everything my brain is a dvd logo bouncing around😭

7: HEAR ME HOPEFUL SHOW

Angel Minori is one of the prettiest sets ever, it just isnt higher because personally i like some others more, doesn't mean this shit isnt fucking gorgeous. The lightning, the setting. I love this mmj card with everyone in it bc this is such a beautiful place???? Just. Licks this set like an ice cream then cries bc i ate the pretty ass set.

6: Someday, from the depths of despair

Lowkey i did not expect this one to be this high before i made this list. But it is just gorgeous setting, gorgeous lightning. It just makes my brain go brrrr looking at it.

5- What lies behind lies ahead

The hermit set has people in a chokehold for years, and for good reason. The hairstyles are pretty, the au ideas one can get out of it are yummy. AND THE CARD THEMSELVES ARE SO CKSJFKDK. All of them having this golden thing around as if hermit was a story told to us by images. It just could be a poster. Its certainly pretty enough to.

4: Our escape for survival

Sorry for the amount of niigo here. It will happen again. Niigo never misses. Anyways i just love this set sm. The lightning, muffled colors and backgrounds just hit so fucking hard. The rain shared on the 3 cards from the set is so symbolical and so is the clock and the engines on Mafuyu's and Luka's card. It tells us a story before we even read the event and that is beautiful.

3: Close game offline

I had to skip this set and i am still sad about it. Man the the the cmsucksjcjx aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa viddygame and neon.

2- Unnamed Harmony

I like silly, your honor. I also like water. Saki's card has both /hj. No but really i just really like the outfits and colors and just everything in this set it would be a CRIME to not have this here as a Saki stan. Just look at it!!!!

1: Draw your bow in this white world

.. so, who's surprised? I can barely even find a favorite card in this set. From Kaitos . Kaito. (Does he need more?), Shizuku's gracefulness and beautifulness and Mafuyu just pretty and badass breaking the "screen"/mirror/window with an arrow. Its just soooooo ancjamvjsjchsjxncnsicjsv chomps.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Knock the future, which light up the fire took it off on a technicality (i like 3/3 cards on light up the fire and 2/3 on knock the future bc Honami is very meh compared to the others to me)

Anyways if anyone else wants to do this as a challenge id love it. And @probably-not-niigo i challenge u to do the same

#project sekai #proseka #colorful stage #prosekai #pjsekai #puroseka

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freedfutura · 2 years

Note

hii!! I’m coming from ur Wattpad! I have a request, Vance hopper x fem reader and it’s just fluff where Vance escaped from the grabber and goes to reader for comfort?

Hey!! I love seeing my Wattpad readers on here. Coming right up! <3 Hope it’s what you’re looking for.

[Vance Hopper]

Thanks For Sticking Around

Vance Hopper is described as a lot of things. Angry. Violent. Spiteful. Rough. Temperamental. But one thing people often forget to list is sensitive.

Vance Hopper is sensitive.

When he was taken by the grabber, he was forced to face the worst parts of himself. No matter how hard he tried to disguise his fear and pain with bravery and anger, it was clear that he was anything but brave. He had to face the facts- and that was that he was truly stressed out and terrified about his impending doom. He was afraid that no one cared enough to come and find him. That no one would care if he lived or died.

Sure, he was angry. Angry that he was weaker than the grabber. And that try as he may, there was no over powering a grown man twice his size.

In the end, his escape was pure luck. And he didn’t even do it alone- he had to obtain help from people who weren’t even alive. He couldn’t do it alone.

He’s always been stand offish, it’s just in his nature. So when the cops came to interview him, he was as stiff as a board. Not answering a thing they asked for over an hour until he was sick of sitting in the blinding lights of the interrogation room. Then he proceeded to answer their stupid fucking questions with short annoyed responses, finding their pitying expressions extremely irritating. He absolutely fucking hated the way they looked at him- like a hurt kitten. They spoke to him like he could break any second. It made him want to pull his fucking hair out.

When he was finally able to go home, the main goal in mind was to get a shower. He took his time, gently scrubbing at his bruises and scrapes. Watching the water pour down his body and pool around his feet- turning brown and red as it mixed with the blood and dirt previously smudged into his skin. Then, he redressed his wounds, changed into some fresh clothes and laid in bed.

He thought he would finally be able to get a solid nights sleep.

Of course, that was just too much to ask for.

No matter how many times he tossed and turned, he just couldn’t seem to get comfortable under his blankets. He felt wrong. He’s use to having too many feelings that he doesn’t know what to do with, but never before like this. The feelings he has are far more persistent. No amount of beating the shit out of others or playing pinball to dissociate would ever make him forget what happened to him. He can’t even look into a mirror without seeing that piece of shit’s finger prints etched into the skin on his bicep.

In pure frustration he tosses and turns erratically until he can take no more and throws his comforter off him with an angered grunt. He’s so worked up from all the movement that he’s panting with anger, balling up his sheets in his fist until his knuckles turn white.

He closes his eyes tightly in an attempt to calm himself down, and the first thing he thinks of is you.

And that’s when it hits him.

You! He completely fucking forgot he had you! God, what a fucking idiot. How could he forget the very thing that kept him motivated to escape in the first place?

You couldn’t have heard the news yet. They were yet to announce it on live TV. He imagines you must be worried sick about him, and his dumbass has had the power to make that suffering end this whole time.

He rushes to stand up from his bed, wasting no time to hurry to the phone in his bedroom. At first, looking at it makes him cringe as he unintentionally remembers the one in the basement. However, he soon shakes away that feeling, moving forward to pick it up off the receiver and place it against his ear. His fingers move quickly to dial the only number he had ever memorized. The same number he tried dialing in that damn basement oh so many times. Your number.

It rings for a few moments, and he begins to worry that he’s calling too late. After all, it’s already nearly midnight and your goody two shoe self always went to sleep at 11 on the dot.

Just as he’s losing hope, he hears a click followed by some shuffled noises.

“H-Hello?” You mumbled out groggily.

His face lights up in excitement, already feeling at ease by the mere sound of your voice.

His voice gets caught in his throat as he thinks of what to say, until he finally settles on keeping it simple. “Hey, sweetheart…”

If he could see your expression now, he would probably laugh.

Your eyes just about fall out of your school with how wide the burst open. You literally drop your phone in surprise before hurriedly rushing to pick it up again.

“V-Vance?! Where are you?! Are you ok?! Do I need to call 911?!” You rush out, choking back tears as you clutch the phone tightly.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head despite the fact that you can’t see him. “Nah. I already talked to those fucktards. They’re still as shitty as they were before I went missing. I’m at home. I’m alright now. Just a little bruised up- nothing too bad.”

“Y-You’re ok? What happened to you?” You stammer out, wiping away any stray tears that managed to escape you.

Though you’re trying your best to hide the fact that you’re crying, he can clearly tell by your irregular breathing and the shakiness in your voice.

With a slight frown he replies, “I…was…taken. By the fucking grabber. But I killed that motherfucker. Snapped his neck with a fucking phone cord. I bet he’s rotting in hell as we speak.”

From the sound of his voice, you would never be able to tell he was just kidnapped and trapped in the confines of a basement hours before. It’s honestly concerning. You know how Vance can be. He bottles up his emotions and then explodes at an innocent bystander for breathing too loud. But the worst part about him bottling things up is that he forces himself to suffer alone. And you’re not having that.

“I’m coming over. Now,” you decide sternly, hanging up the phone before he even has a chance to reply.

His heart flutters at the determination in your tone. Though he would never admit it, he always appreciated the way you would stubbornly force him to allow you to comfort him. He really needed someone to push his boundaries right now. To force him to let their love in.

Within a few minutes, he hears rustling outside his window, and looks over just in time to see you throw the panes open and clumsily falling through. You land awkwardly on the floor. He snorts at your idiocy, though is quickly cut off when you bounce right back up and practically throw yourself at him.

He stumbles back into his bed, barely saving himself as you throw your arms tightly around his neck and kiss his face again and again.

He feels heat creep up his neck and fights the urge to shove you off and cuss you out. Normally, he isn’t the hugest fan of affection beyond the occasional hand holding, but after everything he’s been through, he just can’t bring himself to deny your touch. He didn’t want to waste the very lucky opportunity he’s been given to feel your warmth once more. So, he carefully wraps his arms around your waist, allowing you to lay atop him as his eyes slowly shut in relief.

This is what he needed. You. In his arms. Your hair tickling his cheek. The scent of your shampoo lingering in the air around him. Your soft skin against his. God, he needed it so bad.

His hold on you tightens as he realizes this, unintentional tears strolling down the sides of his face.

“I missed you so bad,” you admit, your voice shaking and inevitably cracking towards the end of your sentence as you begin to tremble with tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

He hums lightly in response, simply showing his appreciation for you by holding you tight.

“Can I stay the night?” You ask hopefully.

He remains silent for a moment, but eventually replies, “yeah, alright. If that’s what you want. I don’t really care.”

You smile. Because even though he says that, his hold on you had just increased ten fold- showing no signs of letting up even if you had changed your mind.

Vance had a funny way of asking you to stay. Not by using his words, but rather through his actions. You knew when he called he was secretly asking you for your comfort, without actually saying that. He made it seem like what happened was no big deal, knowing you would come running to his aid.

Not everyone was cut out for a relationship with him- but to you he was complex. And you were willing to take your time and put your pride aside to understand him.

And later on, when he assumes you are sleeping, he ever so quietly whispers, “thanks for sticking around.”

And you just smile, pretending not to have heard a thing.

#billy showalter #bruce yamada #finney blake #ghost boys #griffin stagg #gwen blake #robin arellano #the black phone #the grabber #vance hopper #fanfic #fluff #vance hopper x reader

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tonytonwy · 2 years

Text

It's 2am and I want to kiss you

iwaizumi x f!reader

summary: American frat parties aren't too bad with a hot guy.

You stumble on the balcony, letting your legs hang between the white pillars of the famous frat building. You let your drowsy head lean on the cool stone, taking a deep breath. 19 years into your life and you still couldn't control your alcohol. You take notice of the plastic yellow bucket and bottles of water in the corner and laugh, at least they were prepared this time. You feel your bra dig into your ribcage, your jeans tight against your stomach and you remember why you hate dressing up.

You also remember why you hate parties. Everyone is vomiting, your friends with their other friends and you're here, outside in the cold air. You feel a beep in your pocket and quickly check.

guyss he's taking me to his room, hope this dick is good aye.

You snort, and quickly type pls use protection, taking notice of the time; somehow 2:01 already. You loved your friends, you really did, but sometimes the relentless jealousy would rise up. They had boyfriends, girlfriends and experiences you never had. You wanted to have those stories, those stupid regrettable stories you would tell your kids one day.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know someone was here." You hear a nice voice behind you ask. You nod, looking at the night view of Birtwhistle University, small lights of thousands of building decorating the dark night. You decide to throw your wallowing pity away for another night. "You okay?"

"M' okay. Just letting the air hit my face a bit," you sigh deeply, the cool air going through your body. "Had one too many sohju shots."

"Ah, been there," his accent makes your eyes widen as you look back and see a familiar face, Iwaizumi, who lives in the same exchange building as you, actually right next to you. He was known, for being the quiet and incredibly hot exchange student basically. Iwaizumi is leaning on the doorframe, his eyes closed, enjoying the soft breeze, a glass bottle of apple cider in his hands. He's wearing a grey hoodie with matching shorts and a par of slides, you wish you had his comfort.

You've said 'hi' countless times as you pass each other in halls, libraries and classes and you even helped him with an English quiz but you've never actually fully spoken to him.

In your fantasies? Now that's a different story.

"Ah, Hajime? Oh sorry, Iwaizumi, right?" He gives a small smile and nods, you notice how his cheeks are flushed and you're glad you're not the only one a bit fucked tonight.

"Yeah, I'm used to being called Hajime though," you nod, wondering if you should use your Japanese class to it's potential.

"Feel free to sit," you pat the spot next to you. You quickly realize why you drink at parties, your shy exterior is peeled off to show someone who can be just as fun as her friends. You're not quiet, awkward or easily embarrassed when the alcohol runs through your body. You turn and see his eyes widen and the tip of his ears get pink. He nods and hesitantly sits next to you, his legs hanging next to yours and thighs touching. You can't help but peak at his muscular thighs, defined and tough muscle ripping through the soft grey fabric.

God, this man was built like a true Greek god.

You didn't really consider yourself someone openly horny, and perhaps it is due to the alcohol, but Iwaizumi is just about one of the hottest men you've seen in your life. Maybe it was his respectable energy, or his weird obsession with Godzilla-themed items. His arms definitely had something to do with it. You weren’t sure but the amount of times you were in the gym with him coincidentally there (5 so far) made you realize how badly you wanted to make out with Iwaizumi.

"You liking America?" He asks, his voice slightly slurring however still deep and rumbling through his throat.

"It's okay, it's not as bad as I thought it'd be. However, it’s only been two weeks so," your comment makes him laugh and it's fruity yet deep in his chest. You chuckle, the drunk honesty flowing through your veins. If he asked you, ‘y/n do you find me hot and if so, do you wanna kiss?’ you would wholeheartedly answer back ‘why yes Iwaizumi, I’ve been waiting to smash my lips against yours and to touch your arms at least once.'

“I have to agree with you, it’s not too bad with you here,” he laughs, clearly the cider starting to have it's delayed effect. You reminisce on his words, the back of your neck suddenly feeling very warm. The air feels drunk and maybe it’s in your alcohol-influenced head or your Iwaizumi-infected heart but maybe, just maybe, he could be flirty.

"You a heavy weight, Iwaizumi?” You ask, this may be the only time you actually talk with him so you plan to enjoy every second of it.

“Good question,” he slightly leans into you and you’re not sure if he’s a sleepy drunk or impossibly flirty, however it appears to be more the latter. “Yes, everyday.”

You try to not laugh as he completely misheard what you said but you honestly can't be bothered asking again.

"What's your favourite memory from childhood?" His head lays on your shoulder, you can feel his hair on your collarbone, it's almost ticklish as Iwaizumi hums a tune you can't quite figure out. He whips out his phone, and you can't see what he's doing before showing you a picture of him as a kid. He has a paper hat, a stick and he's on top of a man, you only assume it's his dad.

"I liked catching cicadas and freaking my mum out with it," you laugh as he says this because you realize that the photo has zero correlation with this story. You were getting to know him better, Iwaizumi wasn't just a simple hot guy built like Achilles. He was a boy who did goofy things, like terrorize his mother with bugs and use his dad as a horse for photos.

"Did you kill them?"

"Nah," you realize the song he's humming is 'Party in the U.S.A' by Miley Cyrus. "They have a short lifespan so I let them live."

"How noble," before you can ask another question, his drunk face stares at you, deep in thought over probably nothing.

"Why did you come to America?" You tilt your head, slightly confused over his question. His ears go slightly red as he looks away, eyes glued to the big trees. "I overheard you talking about how you should've gone to Japan instead of America."

You felt embarrassed, cheeks heating up more with his eyes on you, however you take a deep breath.

"Do you want the honest," you tip your drink with his to clink, "drunk truth?"

"Is there any better kind?" He clinks his drink with yours, smiling. God, he smelt good, the sweet cider bubbling through a soft cologne that reminds you of freshwater river weirdly enough.

"I got a scholarship, I entered on a whim and got accepted. Plus, my friends really wanted come here," you say, slight sadness running through your voice. Oh god, here comes the emotions. "I didn't want to be the party pooper to say no, so…”

"Here you are, with me," he says, almost breathless. His star-struck eyes stuck on yours and you realize, holy shit, you are talking to Iwaizumi Hajime. The guy you've been thirsting over for the past two weeks, the guy who helped you when your books dropped all over the floor. The guy who apparently just stares at you sometimes.

"Why don't you talk to him?" Your friend slightly nudges you, smirking.

"Are you kidding? He's too hot to approach," you sigh, walking past the lounge room where he's playing Mario Kart with some friends, clearly a life-or-death situation with how loud they are. You can't help but let a smile escape as you see Iwaizumi's toothy grin as he wins, lifting his muscular arms up in glory and triumph.

"Oh, come on, y/n," your other friend groans, "we keep telling you he just sometimes stares at you, as if he wants to talk to you."

"And I keep telling you that you're getting my hopes up for nothing!"

"Here I am, with you," you give a small smile. Perhaps coming to America wasn't such a bad idea. You lean back, ignoring how his eyes slightly ogle at your chest. Your hand is dangerously close to his much bigger hand. You try to hide the loud thump in your heart as Iwaizumi puts his hands on top of yours. You whip your eyes to his soft, olive green eyes, slowly sobering up with each enamored second he's with you.

Okay, this is happening. You thank whatever God that allowed you to have this moment. This experience of a lifetime, you can already imagine it.

"I cured cancer and diabetes!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I got to hold hands with Iwaizumi Hajime!"

"I can't believe I am talking to you," he says, suddenly laying on the floor, looking at the stars in disbelief, his hands hiding his sudden red face. You try to hide your disappointment as his warm sturdy hands are no longer on you. His hoodie slightly lifting, revealing a six-pack that you know you will never forget.

"What do you mean? I should be saying that to you" You say laughing, deciding to lay next him. The stars are slightly dimmed by the house's lights but still look mesmerizing. You wonder what good deed you did in your past life for this to happen, for a hot guy like Iwaizumi to approach you.

"I always found you interesting." You turn and give him a look of disbelief. He stammers, clearly seeing the error in his words.

"Interesting to look at?" You let out a laugh as his face reddens, he stubbornly groans.

"No, of course not. I just, liked looking at you."

"Iwaizumi," You laugh, his words making zero sense in your head, "What happened to the honest drunk truth?"

He huffs, almost like he's mad, cheeks still red.

"You would do anything for your friends, I could tell you were that type of person. You helped me with that stupid quiz even though I made you stay up until midnight to teach me stupid English. And you're so pretty," His rambling makes your stomach feel warm, your lips shake with how much he's noticed you. Your mouth is open in shock, you never thought anyone had noticed you, not in that way. Why would anyone notice you? You thought of yourself as plain, boring and awkward.

"My shitty friend from Japan told me to just get drunk and do it. But I really couldn't find the bravery to talk to you." Iwaizumi sits up and seems out of breath when he finishes. He's not looking at you, ears burning with embarrassment. God, he's shy and hot.

"Until now," you also sit up with him, eyes staring at him. You give a small smile and lay your hands on his, maybe this was the adrenaline feeling your friends were looking for when they did dumb things. This sudden boost of euphoria and excited nerves over a new experience, over a story for the future.

“Until now.” He gives a bashful smile, clearly expecting you to be disgusted with his 'drunk truth'. “And now I’m here.”

“You’re here, with me,” you say, both softly laughing. You feel Iwaizumi lay his head on your shoulder, however this time it feels heavier

"y/n?" His voice sounds so soothing, saying your name casually.

"Yeah?"

"I think I moved around too much and too fast," you know that face too well as Iwaizumi puts a hand to his mouth. "I'm gonna throw up," your eyes widen but you act on pure instinct and experience as bring the bucket just in time as he hurls. Your friends were messy drunks, not to say you didn't have your share of vomiting stories. You quickly turn to get a bottle of water.

"What happened to being a heavy weight?" You smile, rubbing his back, you can see how he frowns confused before widening his eyes.

"I meant," he chugs the water bottle, his frown slowing going away, "lifting heavy weights."

"Oh," you can't help but laugh as Iwaizumi gives you a soft smile before laughing with you.

You hear the loud knocks and groan loudly, your head heavy and legs glued to the bed. You somehow find the strength to walk to your door and open it.

You see Iwaizumi with a pair of glasses and two coffees. He's wearing sweatpants with the same hoodie from last night.

"I'm so sorry," you smile as you see his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "I am so sorry you had to watch me puke, clean my face and drop my sleeping corpse to my room."

You laugh while taking a coffee as Iwaizumi leans on your doorframe, to hungover to fully use his legs.

"Yeah, you owe me big time, heavy weight." He tilts his head, giving a small glare over his new nickname, small smile still escaping through.

"Coffee isn't enough?"

"Ha! You wish," you take a sip and give a sigh of relief as you feel the warm drink energize every joint, muscle and bone in your body. "I expect a Japanese tutor now, at least."

"Done deal, also," he nervously rubs his neck, "I've got tickets for King Kong versus Godzilla, if you wanna come."

You scrunch your face, giving a deep thought.

"Well, I'll go since it's obvious that King Kong will win," you try to not laugh as Iwaizumi lowers his glasses, glaring at you. You feel you can read his mind as he's probably trying to remember every counter argument he can think of.

"Never mind, forget I even asked."

Notes: Did i write the 'helping iwaizumi with english' drabble but then decided to expand on this instead?? yes???? do i love the idea that iwaizumi is a late bloomer?? yes.yes.yes

however, I feel this fic hasn't achieved it's true potential (anyone get that reference?) so I'll probably do some minor editing here and there:)) I do that with all my fics tehehehe

#iwaizumi hajime #his arms #i dream DAILY of him #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#x reader #fanfic #fluff #post-time skip sorta?#I was so tempted to do 'and then you woke up'#for shits and giggles #but a mutual said that that's the worst idea ever #but it's kinda funny yaknow #kita coming soon promise

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blorbocedes · 1 year

Note

Okay wait I have just been informed that apparently you can't use emojis in tumblr asks? So I think my second ask about jensons book probably didn't work yesterday :(

(If you did get it and just ignored it ... sorry for being annoying lmao)

Don't have the book with me anymore but here are shorter versions of the quotes that I sent to my friends (which are about the several tweets lewis made in his mclaren time with jenson):

- "And I'll let you into a secret, the telemetry he posted was from the Simulator, not our actual racing telemetry, although apparently he didn't realise that. Double oops."

- "Needed to be on twitter a bit less if you'd asked me." (as a response to lewis "apology" tweet)

- "That's the truth of it. There was nobody out to get him at McLaren; he was adored by the fans and racing fraternity alike. His speed and skill alone made sure of that. But, seemingly, he could never get it out of his head that he was being marginalised."

Note: He also said that he didn't really care about the tweets except the data bc "you just don't do that" and that there was "no harm done" except for the fact that the public now obviously knew that they weren't close, but as I said can't quote those in full rn

And two extra quotes including nico:

- "And much more healthy than the one he had with Felipe and later with Nico Rosberg (I never lobbed a hat at his head for one thing) - but there wasn't a great deal of banter" (Talking about his rivalry with lewis)

- "Keke had his son Nico with him, who's five gears younger than me but was acting even younger that day. He was pulling at his dad's arm as we were talking, trying to pull him away. I remember looking down at him, silently cursing him for messing up my introduction to Keke, thinking 'God just leave us alone'" (aka jenson meeting nico and already thinking he's a brat when he just wants his dad's attention ... much to think about)

NOT LEWIS POSTING THE WRONG TELEMETRY TOO ☠️☠️☠️ that is so funny.... my man was MALDING

I mean how do you react to your teammate mad you unfollowed him on Twitter (you didn't) and then he posts your data 😭 2009 Lewis the man you were..... thank you once again for sharing I find this incredibly amusing. I think lewis is sensitive so the amount of fans and love at mclaren felt less compared to if he thought the team was preferring jenson over him, but then ofc jense is writing this as a lily white dude and probably the microaggressions flew over his head. the only time he was a "fun" rival was when he was crushing seb. interesting stuff!

and ahhaha baby nico clinging to his dad 🥹

#Lewis hamilton #jenson button #f1 lore #blorbocedes ask

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jazzystudios82 · 25 days

Text

His Lovely Rose - Chapter 6: A Good Time

"Hey, how are ya?" Brier, Beerus, and Whis turned around to see who was speaking to them. It was a human man with long black hair, two scars on his otherwise handsome face, and he was wearing a white dress shirt, gray pants, and black shoes. "We're doing just fine. Who are you, good sir?" Brier asked nicely. "This is Yamcha." Bulma said, introducing them to her guest. "He's an old friend of mine."

"Oh. Well it's nice to meet you, Sir Yamcha." "How do you do?" Brier and Beerus said, while Whis gave a simple nod to acknowledge him. "Aw come on, there's no need for you guys to be so polite!" Yamcha said, wrapping his arm around Beerus' shoulders. 'Goodness! He's either very brave or very stupid to be so casual with Beerus. . .' Brier thought, surprised. "Probably both, milady." Whis whispered.

Brier looked at the angel with a confused look and waited for an explanation.

"You muttered that under your breath." Whis said quietly with his usual smile. "I did? Oh my, how careless of me." Brier replied. "Oh it's alright! I'm sure that-"

"-you know, I'm something of a martial artist." Brier and Whis heard Yamcha say, bringing them back to the conversation. "Is that right?" Beerus asked, intrigued. "Oh yeah! One of the best! So I understand if you're a little nervous, especially since your girlfriend is here." Yamcha told him. "But let's put aside ranks for now and enjoy the party bro!" he added, and then did something unexpected: he took his arm off Beerus' shoulders and gave him a friendly slap on the back.

"!"

"Beerus, are you alright?" Brier asked. "I'm fine." he told her. "Also, 'Yamcha' was it?" "Yeah. What?" Beerus looked at the mortal with slightly narrowed eyes and began to say, "For starters, Brier isn't my 'girlfriend'. She's my wife. And also-"

"Hey guys! Sorry for the wait! Who's hungry?" someone shouted. Everyone looked to see, from what Brier remembered, a short man named 'Krillin' carrying a tray filled with small fried ball-shaped food covered in a brown sauce of some kind. "What's that?" Beerus asked. "Whis, do you know what this is?" "I'm afraid not. I've never seen this kind of food before." Whis answered. "Well it's a party special. . .Russian Roulette Takoyaki!!" Krillin revealed dramatically.

"Huh? What's that?" Beerus and Whis asked. "Well its-"

While the mortal named 'Krillin' explained what the food was and the rules of 'Russian Roulette Takoyaki', Brier looked at the assortment of food that was displayed before her. As interesting as the human food looked and smelled, Brier wasn't particularly hungry, so she politely excused herself from the group and walked away.

As she walked, Brier began to wonder how Kero was doing. It had been awhile since she had last updated him on Beerus' quest to find the Super Saiyan God, so perhaps he'd be interested to know about their current situation. 'I don't want to cause a commotion in case the mortals aren't used to magic. I need to find a private place to contact Kero.' Brier thought to herself. She looked around the ship to find a quiet place where no one could see her talking with her familiar. The goddess then spotted an area that was filled with a variety of potted plants near the ships railing, which was a good distance away from the party goers.

'It's not much, but I suppose that it'll do. I just have to keep my voice low.' Brier then walked towards the plants and hid behind them, making sure that no one could see her.

After checking that the coast was clear, Brier used her hands to create a rune in the air, one that allowed her to use a nearby body of water to act as way for her to not only check on a person, but to also communicate with someone in their mind. Since they were in the middle of the ocean, Brier was able to use a very small amount of the salty water to create an orb of water that was currently facing her.

Brier opened her lips and muttered, "Kero, can you hear me?"

Suddenly, Kero's image appeared in the water. From the looks of it, he seemed to be washing the dishes back home, humming a little tune while doing so. "Kero?" Again, no response. "Kero!" "!" He looked around the kitchen to see who was talking to him. "My lady, is that you?" he asked. "Yes, it is." Brier replied. "I apologize for startling you. The reason you can't see me is because I'm using a spell to communicate with you telepathically at the moment."

"Ah! I think I know which spell you're referring to." Kero responded. "Anyway, do you need anything, Lady Brier?"

"Not really, but thank you for asking." Brier said. "I just wanted to check on you. Are you alright?" Kero looked surprised by the question. "Why do you look surprised? It's not the first time that I've done this, remember?" "It's not that, my lady." Kero said. "I just thought that Lord Beerus or Whis wanted me to make them both another meal or something like that."

"Well, it's not that." Brier told him. "I can assure you that there's no need for that right now, so don't worry." "Alright then. And to answer your earlier question, I'm doing quite fine. It's not like I'm lonely or anything. After all, the Oracle Fish is keeping me company." Kero said. "Well, that's nice to hear." Brier responded.

"Then-" "WOAH! That's so cool!" a young boyish voice interrupted. "!" Startled, Brier accidentally ended her conversation with Kero, allowing the orb to transform back into sea water and go back to the ocean. Brier turned around to see who it was that scared her. It was a group of young children that consisted of five boys and two girls. The first two boys varied in appearance.

The first one had short lavender colored hair, light blue eyes, and tanned skin. The other boy next to him had a shockingly striking appearance to Goku, having the same black hair, eyes, and face. Was he his son, perhaps? Most likely. But she put those thoughts away and looked at their friends.

The three other boys had the most odd appearances that Brier had seen out of everyone else on the ship so far. One was simply a light blue colored imp-like being with pointed ears like hers, and was kind of dressed like a clown. The other seemed to be an anthropomorphic Shiba Inu dog that was dressed like a purple ninja.

The third and final boy resembled a doll and had white skin like her, but he had other features that she obviously didn't: such as red cheeks and the typical rounded ears that human Earthlings had.

The two girls that are with them seemed to differ in age. The eldest girl had straight shiny jet black hair, light skin, dark eyes, and wore an olive green tunic-like attire with a light brown belt and boots. The girl next to her was considerably shorter due to her young age, although that made sense of course. Overall, the little girl had short platinum blonde hair, dark eyes, and she wore a cute purple-black dress, white stockings, and red flats.

"O-Oh! Sorry Ma'am! We didn't mean to frighten you!" the black haired girl said. "Yeah we just wanted to say 'hi'. Are you ok?" the blonde girl asked. "I'm. . .I'm fine." Brier answered. Brier then heard one of them clear their throat. She thought nothing of it until they did it again, louder this time and directed at her. She looked down to see that it was from the boy with lavender colored hair who wore tropical themed clothing and had dark blue sunglasses.

"Yes, young man?" Brier asked. Now that her attention was on him, he bluntly asked, "Hey miss, what was that thing you just did?" "That. . .thing?" Brier repeated, confused. "Yeah! You know, that thing with the water!" the dark haired boy said. 'Ah. So it was his voice that I heard earlier.' Brier thought as she composed herself. "That was a. . .simple spell that I used to contact someone." she answered honestly. Might as well. It's not like she could lie.

"You can do magic?!" the blonde girl said, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Yes of course. Why?" Brier questioned. "Is that the only spell that you know?" the lavender haired boy asked. "Of course not. I know several others." Brier told him. "Really? Like what?" Brier smiled and said, "Instead of telling you, why don't I just show you all what I can do?"

Before the kids could ask what she meant, Brier mumbled an enchantment of sorts, and was able to create glittering butterflies made from crimson light. Several of them fluttered around the group of children, causing most of the children, particularly the blonde girl and the dark haired boy.

And in the blink of an eye, Brier made the butterflies disappear and summoned a great portion of water to surround them all, allowing the mortal children to see several sea creatures up close, such as sea turtles, fish, and even dolphins!

'Alright, I think that that's quite enough.' Brier thought to herself. And with the snap of her fingers, she returned the sea water and the sea creatures back to the ocean with no problem. Brier turned back to see everyone staring at her wide-eyed. "?" 'Oh no. Was that too much for them to handle?'

"Woah! That was awesome!" the lavender haired boy exclaimed. "Right Goten?" he asked his dark haired friend. "Yeah Trunks, it really was!" the boy, Goten agreed. "What else can you do?"

Vegeta kept his eye on all of Bulma’s guests to see who he had to keep away from Beerus. The ones that were currently at the top of his list were Piccolo, Majin Buu, and Yamcha.

Piccolo would often speak too bluntly and could end up insulting the destroyer, Buu would eat everything in the area and make Beerus starve, and Yamcha didn’t know how to read the room properly. The Saiyan was also quick to remember Master Roshi. If he laid eyes on Beerus’ wife, he would surely make her uncomfortable with his perverted advances and upset both her and Beerus. Luckily for him, Master Roshi was too busy reading his dirty magazines to even know of Brier’s presence at the moment.

‘Speaking of which, where is she?’ Vegeta wondered as he looked around. He thought about asking some of the guests to see if they had any idea. The first one he ended up seeing first was Yamcha, who was speaking with Chi-Chi and #18. "-anyway, so then I walked up to the guy and-" "Yamcha! Have you seen Beerus's wife?" Vegeta said, interrupting the long haired man. "Wife? Oh! You mean that total knock out that cat guy came with? I think I saw her with the kids or something." Yamcha told him. "Ha! I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how a guy like him ended up with a babe like that!"

"Just call her pretty, Yamcha." #18 said, annoyed. "Yeah, also I'm sure that she wouldn't appreciate you calling her stuff like that." Chi-Chi agreed. "Oh come on! You guys make me sound like I'm as bad as Master Roshi!" "You're not, but just-"

"Where are the children and Lady Brier?" Vegeta interrupted again. "They're near the swimming pool. Why?" #18 asked, but Vegeta ignored her as he walked away from the three.

The Saiyan Prince walked around the ship to find the goddess where #18 and Yamcha said she'd be, and it didn’t take long for him to do so. Near the swimming pool, just like #18 said, was none other than Brier, who was currently sitting down on a soft chair with Trunks, Goten, Marron, Chiaotzu, and the three odd children sitting near her. She seemed to be telling stories of her interplanetary travels, since Vegeta heard Goten ask, “And then what happened on that planet?”

“Well, my husband ended up in the belly of the beast. So then he had to. . .”

‘At least she’s having a good time. And the children seem to like her as well.’ Vegeta thought to himself. ‘As long as they don’t do anything to upset her, then-’ And then the questions the children asked seemed to have gotten a little personal since Vegeta heard them ask things such as:

“So, who are you married to again?” Goten asked, curious. “I’m married to Beerus the Destroyer.” Brier answered. “Who’s that one?” Chiaotzu asked. “He’s the one who looks like a purple cat.” Brier replied. “Really?! Him? I thought that you were married to that guy with the staff! That one pretty guy you were friendly with!” Vegeta heard his son, Trunks, exclaim loudly. "Yeah!" Goten agreed. "I thought that cat guy was just a friend you guys brought along!"

‘Dammit! I swear those two don't know when to keep their mouths shut!’ Vegeta thought, hoping that Trunks and Goten didn’t offend her. Luckily, he didn’t since it appeared that Brier was more amused than offended. In fact Brier didn’t seem offended at all. She even let out a little laugh before replying with, “I know that it can be a bit surprising, but I really am. Although don't let him hear you say that, alright?”

"Ok!" Everyone said, giving her a thumbs up.

Brier then looked at Marron and asked, “Now what was your question, little one?” “Can you do that trick with the glowy butterflies again?” Marron asked her. Brier nodded and formed an orb of light in the palm of her hand that immediately transformed into glittering crimson butterflies the began to fly around the group. Several of them even landed on the childrens’ heads and noses, causing them to laugh since it most likely tickled them.

Vegeta released a sigh from his lips, extremely relieved that Brier was still in a positive mood. 'Alright, now I just need to make sure that-' “Excuse me, but I’m afraid that I’m needed elsewhere.” Vegeta heard Brier say. “Awww! Can’t you stay and tell us more stories?” Marron and Goten asked, both with sad looks on their adorable faces.

Brier softly smiled and replied with, “Well, as long as it doesn’t take too long, then I’ll be able to come back. Does that sound reasonable?” Everyone nodded their heads and waved goodbye as Brier left, a gesture she returned.

'I need to follow her and make sure that nothing bad happens!' Vegeta thought as he proceeded to follow the goddess. 'Otherwise who'll know what these idiots will do that'll offend her or Beerus!'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: There's not that many GIFs of Beerus for me to choose from which is a bit of a bummer, but oh well, what can you do?

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #fan fiction #lord beerus #vegeta #bulma briefs #dragon ball oc #whis dbs #dragon ball fanfiction #alternate universe #fanfic #anime and manga #the z fighters #his lovely rose au #bride of the destroyer story #beerus x original character

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friedrocks · 8 months

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oooooooh please i need to know more about your qsmp pacific rim au

I'VE BEEN WANTING AN EXCUSE TO POST MORE ABOUT IT! Ily anon thank you and sorry it took me a while to reply here we gooo :))

This whole thing stemmed cause I re-watched Pacific Rim, one of my favorite movies of all time after a QSMP vod. And I immediately was like. "Oh my god, Jaiden and Roier as Jaeger pilots." So far I have 8 pages of a Google Doc on this now.

And now there's MORE to do bc MORE members just dropped.

Everyone is still stranded on an Island, one in the middle of the Ocean reserved for a Shatterdome that is used solely for training and repairing/constructing Jaegers. Everyone is stuck due to the sudden appearance of some Kaiju. One uses an electrical attack, sending a shock wave over the island and Shatterdome. Everyone is knocked out for two hours, and when they wake up, all technology/ways of communication outside the island is broken/unusable. Also, no one remembers why or how they are there. They only remember their names, some of the other members, and what Kaiju and Jaegers are. Otherwise, they're stuck and clueless.

Here's some ideas I have for the Eggs so far!

Eggs:

The kiddos are found as Kaiju eggs, in the same order so far. Super small compared to what is normal for Kaiju, so they are taken in for research- not easily, some people say no, but overall the majority vote to bring them in. They hatch about two weeks later, shocking everyone when they hatch to reveal what look like regular, human toddlers- all with white hair, white scales, and small white tails (over time of being cared for, the kiddos' scale colors change to match their parents and such).

At this point, everyone pairs up to take care of the kids. Some are already romantic couples, qprs, or besties. Badboyhalo is still a single parent, however I might work in Skeppy as being his friend/partner who is either on the island in a coma or just not there at all but Bad still remembers him much to the chagrin of everyone else. As for Quackity, I might have Tallulah and Tilín be twins, and have Wilbur and Quackity work that out (who knows how that will end, they're both disasters).

So far, I have options written as far as Egg deaths and what I want to do if I don't want to include Egg death. Cause it's fucking sad, but also. Juicy juicy angst.

Characters:

So far every character is just plain old human (except obviously the eggs, cucurucho, and code).

So far for Jaegers, I have 5, which I feel is a good amount. I didn't want to have too many, I had to narrow down the number of ppl I wanted to see in a Jaeger. I'll list the pairs I have so far here:

• Jaiden and Roier

• Baghera and Forever (siblings in this au)(they pilot a Jaeger formerly manned by Bad and Skeppy)

• Philza and Missa (Formerly manned by Phil and Fit)

• Mariana and Charlie

• Pac and Mike (woah woah!) (also I'm still back and forth about them being pilots or engineers- or hey! both)

Everyone else is either dedicated to Strategy, Kaiju research/experimentation, general tech, or Jaeger engineering/design.

Cucurucho and The Code are also there, I'm brainstorming ideas on them (and the Eggs) being Government experiments of some kind, trying to blend animals and humans with Kaiju.

That's all for now without being too specific.

THANK YOU AGAIN ANON I'M HAVING SO MUCH WITH THIS

The only thing that would be better is if I could have anyone who actually speaks Portuguese and/or French and/or Spanish to help me out. I know a bit of Spanish, but definitely not enough to write it entirely accurately. I also worry that I won't characterize some of the non-Englisj speaking cubitos correctly, due to me not being able to watch them regularly.

Anyways ily and I love Pacific Rim and I love the QSMP my brain is buzzing, my hands are flapping

#qsmp #qsmp au #qsmp pacific rim au #friedrocks posts #anon ask #pacific rim

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pagiecakewritesstuff · 1 year

Text

9. MORPHEUS|DREAM OF THE ENDLESS X READER/OC

SEASON 2 IS COMING!

SERIES MASTERLIST

He always seemed to be the happiest when he went to visit Hob Gadling. On that day in every century, nightmares eased and the air was light with daydreams and fantasies in the waking world, because he walked amongst them, the people he served. He descended to humanity's level, all because of one exceptional man, who boldly declared his wish not to die. Exactly two hundred years ago.

Since then I visited him only once, in complete secret as I noticed his prose flying back to me, still alive, yet muddled. It needed some adjustments. Then Death was kind enough to inform me about the bet she made with Morpheus and asked me to patch up my writing if it was not too much trouble. Hesitantly I agreed to do it, unsure whether I'm doing right by my job or not, up until I saw how happy it made Morpheus. Even if the Dream King would have never admitted this out loud. In that tavern, his eyes shone like when he was young and bold, his soul unscathed. Able to openly show love.

He wanted me to come to their third meeting. Why? He did not clarify. Must have been the same reason he was so adamant about showing me the Dreaming first eons ago. To gain a form of acknowledgement I still couldn't offer. Still, I didn't have it in my heart to refuse, so I found myself on the mortal plane in the year 1589.

"I've never seen you with this hairstyle before." We walked towards the White Horse, soft mud sloshing around our boots. He just shrugged, pursing his lips.

"I quite like it, it suits you." I just about caught the slight red tint spreading across his cheeks as he turned his head away, expression remaining cold. He would have said it was only the icy wind cutting into his skin and nothing more. And of course, that would have been a lie.

"Have you met him before?" He changed the subject.

"Not properly," I said. "I went to him in his dreams a long time ago just to reattach his prose, but I did that while he was asleep."

He opened the creaking door for me, one that had seen better days, but did a decent job keeping the warmth in still and we stepped into the alcohol-induced haze accompanied by the heavy whiff of roasts and pastries. Dream without hesitation headed towards the back, lingering for a moment at a conversation about how dreams relate to the arts when a strong voice called towards us.

"My friend!"

That's when I could take him in the first time. Hob Gadling was a vigorous man with a broad grin that beamed across the room. Based on his clothes I supposed he gained a generous amount of wealth in the past century, his table overflowing with all kinds of meats confirming my idea. Morpheus only hummed to himself quietly, dark clothes draining out the light around him.

"And who this would be?" Hob asked as we joined him at the table. "A partner of yours?"

Keeping his mouth shut, Dream eyed me intently. He let me decide how I present myself.

"A close friend," I answered, nodding my chin in greeting. "Nice to meet you Hob Gadling."

"Hob? Faith, that takes me back some few years." The man stood up to perform an elaborate bow. It did not succeed to impress Dream. "It's Sir Robert Gadlen now."

"You had good fortune I take it?" I smiled politely at his semantics, eyeing the piled plates. "It's quite the feast you prepared for us here."

"The gods have smiled on me as they smile on all England where no man is slave or bondsman." Hob's voice turned dreamy. "Venison pasty? No? They are good."

I took one of them, the layered dough flaking between my fingers. I couldn't remember when was the last time I tasted human food. The juicy meat exploded in my mouth and I had to agree with Hob. They were good.

"Let's see. Last we spoke I was working with Billy Caxton. Made some gold from that. Put it to work in Henry Tudor's shipyards.' Hob began his tale without prompting. "I made a small pile. Then I went north for a year or so, came back as my son. Done that twice now. Girl, more wine!"

I glanced at Morpheus, who didn't even bother to feign interest. He sat there, legs crossed, semi-facing away from the table.

"When fat Henry had gone to the monasteries, I bought my estates, and a healthy gift of gold to the crown saw to a knighthood. That's not all, here." The man hastily produced a small framed canvas from a piece of cloth that he kept next to his plate until now. It was a painting, I couldn't see it properly, since he only held it towards Dream. "My fair Elanor and little Robyn. My first son born over 200 years on this earth, that I know of."

Pain flashed in Morpheus' eyes before he could hide it from me. Hob didn't notice of course, but I couldn't have missed it. The anguish of an ever-mourning father. I prayed for his rage, hand in hand with his grief, to keep slumbering.

"It's funny." Hob continued, oblivious to the wounds he uncovered. "This is what I always dreamed Heaven would be like, way back. It's safe to walk the streets. Enough food, hood wine. Life is so rich."

It hit my ears at the same time as it did his. It was art in one of its purest forms. Theatre. A monologue.

"To god? He loves thee not. The God thou servest is thine own appetite, wherein fixed the love of Belzebub. To him, I'll build an altar in the church and offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes. I would give anything to have your gifts. To give man dreams that would live on long after I'm dead."

Our gazes linked, and to my relief the pain in his eyes lessened, replaced by a crafty sheen, the sort that leads to great things and discoveries if you let it bloom. I knew what he was thinking of.

"He recited Faustus rather well. I like that one." Lazily I popped a bite of pasty into my mouth.

"Does he have it in him though?" Morpheus leaned forward, like a cat ready to pounce. He already had plans.

"Maybe. You are free to do what you like. His song is definitely promising." Truthfully it drew my attention as soon as we stepped in. Looking back at it, it was obvious that the young man would later become a big name. "Sometimes even I can surprise myself with my own work."

"So be it. Who is he?" Asked the Dream King from Hob, who only stared at him dumbfounded for a moment.

"His name is Will Shaxberd. Acts a bit. Wrote a play." He muttered finally.

"Is he good?"

"He is." I quipped in.

"No, he is crap." Hob side-eyed me confused. ‘How could I ever think Will Shaxberd is good?’, I read from his expression. "Now that chap next to him, with the broken leg, he is a good playwright. Anyway, I saved the best bit for last. The queen herself slept at my house this summer. That was expensive."

Holding up his hand, Dream effectively silenced the man. He lost all interest in his boasting tale, so he stood up and headed for the table at the other end of the room.

"Don't take it to your heart." Disappointedly Hob shifted in his seat, gaze flickering between me and Dream. Grabbing one of the pitchers I sloshed the wine around in it a bit, the deep scarlet colour swirled around invitingly. "He does that sometimes, and to be fair Shaxberd needs him right now."

"Tell me," he leaned forward, "who is he really?"

"My friend?"

"Yes."

"There must be a reason for it if he didn't introduce himself already."

"Well," he raised his cup to drink. "I suppose there is no point in asking you to introduce yourself either."

"I don't mind." Surprised by my answer he perked up a bit and I felt better too. Dream was unintentionally harsh with him, so I took it upon myself to try and change the mood. "You may call me the Writer. If you want to be formal the First Writer will do. Bur through existence I had all the names you can think of."

He pouted, not entirely satisfied with the answer.

"So you live forever too?"

"Nothing lives forever Hob Gadling. Not even you. We just live longer than others."

"So how old are you?"

"Older than you can comprehend." Patting my lips with a napkin I finished my meal and prepared to leave. "I think I will see you again Hob Gadling. I like your character. However, I cannot promise to be regular, expect me even in the most unexpected moments."

He rose with me politely, smiling unsurely.

"I will. I'm glad we met."

"Farewell, Hob Gadling. You have great things ahead of you."

The welcoming warm light ushers the newcomers into the bustling little world of the inn from the street, bright and sunny, rare even during the warmest London summers. It's not even midday, yet the small establishment is overflowing with guests eagerly waiting at the bar to secure their choice of beverage, while chatting with friends, mostly about the unexpected good weather or other local news. My otherwordly impression blends into their simple, everyday humanity, making me invisible amongst them. The familiarity of the feeling comforts me, even against the reminding chokehold of the collar around my neck.

Inns are strange places between other places, in them, time only applies to some or ceases to exist completely. You may think it's because people simply forget themselves between their walls, but believe me, they have their magic. They alleviate life, closing around people like a capsule, refusing to acknowledge what's outside, concentrating the energy brought in into a special atmosphere, like a magnifying glass. Now, this is not true in every case, there are those run-down, mouldy spaces, so repulsive not many dare to enter them. But here I contently wander around the tables, breathing in the heavy aroma of simple cooking and beer, the loud chatter tuning out my thoughts. Delicately carved wooden arches curve from the central bar to certain directions of the room, encompassing cushioned seats, barstools and all chairs, gently leading the eye towards the milky glassed windows detailed with bent iron decorations. The inn has an old aesthetic, despite being quite new. The floor creaks with my steps, worn by hundreds of boots scuffing against it due to the high traffic. This establishment has no problems with popularity. Foaming, the beer tap hisses and the space is filled with a warm, brownish haze.

I head towards the furthermost corner from the door, shadowed by a pillar supporting a beam reaching across the ceiling, holding it up. I follow the unique hum of my song, covering many ages all in one, filtering through the clattering of the patrons. I'm pleased to hear it sound still so loud and clear, there are a few false notes, but nothing major at fault, the melody is unbroken and thriving, which is remarkable given its old age. I notice him right away as he hunches over a sheaf of paper with a red pen in hand, I notice him right away, his dark chocolate hair falling in front of his face in stylish locks, longer than last time. I send a delicate signal towards him, a note that blends with the others well, to which his pen quivers slightly before making a mark on the essay.

Hob looks up, guarded gaze scanning over his pub.

"Fear not Hob Gadling." I take the seat across him, his eyes now glued to me. The shine of disbelief reflects in them. Of course. I was not expected. "It's just me."

He wets his lips as they part with a quick swipe of his tongue, head tilted to the side. Features softened immediately, he leans back as if studying me, his papers forgotten for now. Timidly he places the pen just far enough from the edge of the table so it doesn't roll off. However he tries to hide the smile tugging at his lips, but he can't. For some reason, he has the idea that he has to be serious and composed around me, more respectful than usual, something he did not reserve for Morpheus, just for me. No matter that we have met a good couple of times before.

"I would have never thought I see you again." He breathes out, coming down from the shock, as he tames his locks with a practised move. "I can't remember when your last visit was."

"Two, maybe three hundred years ago. A lot happened since, it's hard to recall, even for me."

"What brings you here? Just asking, you are always welcome of course."

"I have a request concerning your friend."

Suddenly Hub turns deadly serious and the smile hiding at the edge of his lips disappears.

"Do you know what happened to him?" He asks. "Where you go he is close to follow."

"He is okay, Hob," I answer. "He was hurt, but now is okay."

"Hurt?" Bewildered and fidgety now, he reaches for his pockets to occupy his hands with something, fierce anger rising in him. Admirable for their friendship is one of the most distant ones ever seen. "Who hurt him?"

"You need not know, he is dead for a long while now." A cold breeze lurks in the warmth of the inn, it centres itself around me. "And me, I hurt him too."

"What?"

"This isn't a social call, I'm afraid, there is no time to explain everything," I say. "My request, Hob, that's why I'm here."

Even before I go into the details he eagerly nods along. The chatter seemingly quiets as if we made a bubble for ourselves.

"I suspect he will soon come to meet you. He needs to." I begin. "In the knowledge of our acquittance, he will ask about me. Tell him to stop searching. I can feel him doing it desperately, he will talk to you about it, I'm sure. Be gentle though, I don't want to crush his heart even further."

His brows furrow, trying to make sense of what I just said. His experience throughout the years was that I and Morpheus were permanently close no matter what.

"I don't understand..."

"You don't have to. Just suggest to him that it's not worth running after an old love."

"Why can't he find you?'

I push myself away from the table. The bubble bursts.

"Goodbye, Hob Gadling. I can't promise I will see you again."

The inn now suffocating I escape through the closes backdoor, 'FOR STAFF' written across it. The bright sunshine burns my cheeks and I have to shield my eyes with my hands. My free time is coming to its end, but I'm hopeful that I can stretch it out a bit, even against the forceful tugging of my chains, all invisible. Picking a random direction I begin to walk, skipping steps in a hurry, trying to savour the last breaths of fresh air I can get for a while. And without realizing I let a low hum, streaming down the streets gracefully, guide me. The hum turns into a melody, then a hymn, constantly switching in a harmonised beauty, loud and blooming with life. By the time I figure out that the composer is me, she catches up to me. I hear the sound of her wings.

"Talos?"

I halt, inhaling sharply, it hurts the back of my throat. It smells like summer, like sunshine and freedom. Behind the cage of my teeth, my tongue is tied.

"Is that really you?" She rounds me, gentle eyes overflowing with concern. As she reaches out for me I pull away, chain links clinking against each other. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I don't know what you mean Death." I avoid her gaze, but she sees right through me.

"My brother has been looking for you for quite some time." Her fingers brush against my collar before I can avoid them, and I feel a jolt of flames running along my spine, soaring heat forcing itself between my vertebrates. "And don't think your chains are unnoticed. Who did this?"

"I cannot say." I try to walk past her. She grips my shoulder.

"You are unlike your usual self. You always greeted me as a friend, but now as a stranger. Why?" She leans closer, maybe aiming to comfort me, but my heartbeat picks up panicking. "Morpheus needs to know about this."

"No!" I snap and the birds cut to silence around us as the wind ruffling the feathers on her mighty wings quiets. Her hand retreats. "By telling him you would bring great danger upon Dream and possibly his realm.

When she raises her chin to object I stop her.

"You have to understand." To my sincere pleading Death's eyelids flutter, her first time hearing me so vulnerable. "By telling you what happened I can put you in danger too, so please don't even mention to him that you met me here. And it's better if you forget about this too."

"He suffers in your absence."

The timid searching power caresses my skin, gently taps into my mind, undeniably his. He is close. I mask myself so he can't suspect my presence.

"He has to give up on me. He can't move on like this, this is unhealthy."

"He is in love with you."

"And I am with him." This I admitted to myself during the endless hours of my imprisonment. Saying it out loud, however, fills me with a new surge of dripping warmth and sticky anguish. Secretly uttered whispers in the dark have a strange power in daylight. "He mustn't know."

She bows her head in respect for my wishes, as a child respects her older sister. Death readies herself to go, but before that, she turns back and asks:

"Will I ever see you again?"

For the first time after a long while, I let myself smile, clawing at my hope so it doesn't grow too big. So my disappointment, in the end, is less.

"Only Destiny knows." I breathe out at the edge of tears. "And he won't tell you."

#morpheus fanfiction #dream x reader #the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #fic:assorodus #morpheus x reader

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wejustvibing · 1 year

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The anti-Nico anons on have me on tears 😭 Not to extend this conversation but I have to disagree on one part, yes while Nico benefitted from white privilege, as every white driver does against Lewis, I don't really remember he or his older fans being so aggressively and overtly racist towards Lewis. Lewis has always dealt with racial microaggressions but I think most of his older fans will agree that things have escalated in the last couple of years on account of the growing incel fanbase and larry shipper-esque white women. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to defend Nico by any means but his new era hybrid fans (as one anon aptly puts it) who join the sport obsessed with MV and find their way to Nico/Brocedes are definitely the worse than his older fans. They rewrite the history between them, rewrite Lewis' personality to subject Lewis to constant racial harrassment and now a big Brocedes blog invents outrageous lies to fuel the agenda against Lewis. The only thing I have never begrudged Nico for was that he didn't take direct advantage of the antiblack sentiment against Lewis unlike Alonso, MV etc (the bar is in hell I know) but his newer fans are making sure that even that tiny amount of goodwill towards him evaporates. The way they despise Lewis to such a scary extent while obsessing over Brocedes is such strange behaviour. Lewis is only palatable to them as an extension of some mid white man, they hate him otherwise. We don't talk enough about white/nonblack women and their power in fuelling antiblack agenda in every fandom. Lewis' whole personality is reinvented by them so they can sell a delusional shipping agenda or prop their white racist fav.

let me preface this by saying i have a really limited fandom/standom experience. i've protected my peace like no other ever since i became a fan and would have continued to do the same had AD21 not happened. anyway, the point is, most of my opinions on fans/stans are based on recent observations and discourses i've seen. so, i'm not sure how much weight these older fans you're talking about hold to what anons have been discussing. if they agree with what you're saying then good for them i guess but i don't think i've seen them talking about it which could be a me problem.

but. nico. he has definitely perpetuated ugly narratives against lewis during and after his tenure, leading to microaggressions and overt racism. the covert racism has been apparent too and i don't know if it can be ignored given how to this day his word (based on his speculations especially after his retirement since he's not been in lewis' vicinity in literally years?) is held higher than those who have worked closely with lewis AFTER him. just because what? he's won a title as opposed to lewis' 2? i fail to recount this goodwill that you talk about here. maybe he didn't take direct advantage but he perpetuated that shit and benefited all the same.

and oh boy you're bang on about the fans' need to associate every little thing lewis says or does with a white man to make him palatable and tbh it needs to be studied and called out every single day. hybrid fans are the worst but yeah, this is not just a brocedes issue. just because we don't make a big deal out of it doesn't mean we don't seen it.

because how are they spending all their time excessively fetishislzing and hyper-sexualizing him but the moment they need to use their brain (because they're clearly incapable of treating him as just another human), he's on the highest of pedestals, proscribed of making even the smallest of "wrong" move white men get an easy pass for. he needs to be punished and has karma coming for him god forbid he displays a single emotion his white counterparts are forgiven & even lauded for.

he's their "favorite" till it's time to show him the same empathy these mid white men get for worse things. they love him as long as they get to "consume" and do not have to "accept". the fetishization of his struggles, adversities and grace in the garb of solidarity and brownie points (i guess?) is so dehumanizing.

"i love it when his back is against the wall" ummm no? "look he's still pining for xyz because he has repressed feelings" ummm how about fuck no?

but i digress.

#anonymous #good morning i took the plunge rip #bye

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bargainbinwizard · 2 years

Text

Weird Interdimensional Shit

So my thoughtform/entity I’ve made up tried to assert dominance today.

Remember the Witness experiments I’ve been doing? Yeah, I’m talking about him. I’ve been using him for help on writing the backstory on one of the characters in a story I’m planning on writing one day. Witness is an entity/thoughtform created that is supposed to either be a doppelganger of the ‘real’ Witness in the book, a thoughtform version of Witness or the ‘real’ Witness.

Uh, let me explain. I wanted to do funny interdimensional experiments with book characters that takes place in a whole bunch of multiverses connected together directly influencing each other. It’s metaphysical fiction. I didn’t know how to write one of the characters in the book accurately with in universe lore so I’ve invented a minor character and ‘’canonly’’ made him die and reincarnate into this world as a thoughtform or an entity that already existed for the sole purpose of communicating with him so he can tell me about a book character through tarot so I can write better.

*It gets really long so I’m adding this here*

I would light incense and pull out my tarot cards and call out to Witness so he can give me some info on one of his coworkers who canonly used to be a very high ranking angel but was forced to reincarnate as a nonhuman woman without her memories on Earth to serve her punishment for disobeying the alternate universe version of the Jewish/Christian God. I would ask Witness to give me signs about the Mayeliel through tarot and the tumblr dashboard.

Usually he would cooperate and tell me limited amounts of information through pictures and quotes. That’s how I was told that his former coworker used to be and *still is a Seraph dragon. He showed me pics of dragons and gave me a bible quote from the revelations about how the beast spat water (something the coworker was able to do) while also telling me that the coworker is VERY CLOSE to the throne of God

Notable signs from the Witness notepad document:

*Note: I don’t have links for the tumblr posts here. I’m just telling you what I’ve recieved.*

4/9 -In human lenses, what is Mayeliel's role in heaven 3 of pent rev knight of swords sun rev

-Two references of an apocalypse dragon -Apocalyptic dragon Picture with Revelation 12:15 under it. *looking up Revelation 12:15 on google*

Revelation 12:15 — The New International Version (NIV)

‘’Then from his mouth the serpent spewed water like a river, to overtake the woman and sweep her away with the torrent.’’ (Mayeliel could spit water)

5/2 What rank is maye out of the angels? Is she the closest to God or the farthest? Ace of wands King of Cups rev Chariot rev -‘’how would other people describe you' why would i know this’’ (first thing I saw) -angel with shield and sword with bleeding heart -Multiple ''Of the stars'' stuff

(He didn’t know but is guessing her rank so I invented another thoughtform to tell him the answer on the tumblr dashboard)

5/4

-Did someone close to Horaideus (fake inverse deity) tell you about Maye's rank? 2 of swords rev 4 of pent rev 5 of pent -What is mayes rank 9 of swords 6 of pent 3 of cups -What are you? knight of wands rev 9 of pent 10 of swords -Dragon pictures -Woman with a sword and 9 stars surrounding head -Cat with baseball bat is named mae (Short for mayeliel and my character really does own a baseball bat.) -“The Spirit of God is a life that bestows life, root of world-tree and the wind in its boughs. Scrubbing out sin, she rubs oil into wounds. She is glistening life alluring all praise, all-awakening, all-resurrecting.” -’’Some knowledge can only be a song or a symbol. Language fails you and me. Some things are too large.”

-monochrome picture hand trying to make a man come off the ground surrounded in fire -White Stag by Sin Eater -The utter silence of the untranslated stars.” -Dragon burning down a castle -‘’Then came the blood – so ravishing it made him feel like a god.’’ -‘’god knows all of your ugliness,’ my mother says, ‘and loves you despite.’ ‘is that supposed to make me feel loved?’ i reply. ‘i am still ugly. he is still god.’’

End. There’s more but I didn’t feel like copy-pasting everything.

Yes, it may seem like contrived coincidences but some of you literally choose Gods to worship based on the birds you saw in your backyard or just because you saw spiders in your dreams so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, the thing that made it apparent that Witness intentionally shat on me for making him answer questions was when I’ve asked him

‘’Does Maye take orders from Seraphiel (Chief of the Seraphim in Book of Enoch) or another angel or even Mother Mary/Jesus?’’

Devil 10 of cups rev knight of cups

I didn’t know what it meant and so I’ve looked to the dashboard.

-’’You are the altar cup and with this i do fill my mouth’‘

-’’Do not ignore me or I will shed blood’’

-’’God circled her. Fire. Time. Fire. Choose, said God’’

-Augsburg Book of Miracles, Page 52 (Frightening Comet)

*googling* "In 1300 A.D., a terrible comet appeared in the sky and in this year, on St Andrew’s Day, an earthquake shook the ground so that many buildings collapsed. At this time, Pope Boniface VIII established the first jubilee year."

And this:

End.

It seemed like Witness was dodging the question by giving me other signs instead of flat out telling me whether or not Maye obeys orders from a cheif seraph Seraphiel or if she’s above Seraphiel due to her being the physical manifestation of God’s wrath and purification through death and torment. Think 10 plagues of Egypt kind of purification. After all, she is a holy dragon of the apocalypse but isn’t related to the other one (Satan as the red dragon). Side note, Mayeliel isn’t the dragon’s name anymore and they have no gender after reincarnating but for consistency, I’ve kept their old name and gender.

Anyway, the things that later jumped out at me was some stuff on the dashboard talking about (Some deities and spirits are closed. Don’t work with them) and how ‘’People are not robots who will tend to your need, you need to build relationships with them’’

Combining that with the tarot card pull from earlier(Devil, 10 of cups rev,knight of cups) and the fact that my tumblr dashboard broke and wouldn’t let me scroll much father to gather more images as signs means he did it on purpose. The cards could mean ‘’Being made to answer your questions makes me unhappy.I don’t like being used.’’

Also I’ve asked my other spirits whether Witness really was trying to tell me to leave him alone or I was looking too deep into it. They gave me these cards:

King of Swords reversed, Queen of pentacles reversed and Knight of swords.

Pretty sad that a thoughtform refuses to cooperate and breaks your tumblr dash just to tell you that they have a mind of their own and aren’t required to tell you anything.

🦚: ‘’I’m not your slave. I’m a person with my own thoughts. Just because you give me incense and juice doesn’t mean I have to tell you the answer.’’

So what do you do when your creation starts asserting dominance? First, I made it ‘canon’ that Witness will tell me the answer to that question and then I prayed to the fake deity (Horaideus) that actually created Witness to make him cooperate.

I won’t search for more signs today but Witness will give me the answer later. I’m just going to wait until some time passes.

#witchcraft #witch #witchy #wizard #wizardry #wizardblr #wizard community #Magic #magician #magick #Spirits #spirit #spirit work #thoughtform #servitor #chaos magick #chaos magic

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