#fuck i've seen that once or twice and that's SO. DAMN. POWERFUL.

[fstbmp-a]

A friend inspired me with smth so I'm finally going to pop off and sound like the pretentious art college grad I secretly am

Writing canon characters is a farce. You're writing your character.

"Mirth what do you mean"

Thank you, strawman, allow me to elaborate. The second an author picks up a character, it is instantly their own. People put too much stake into fitting the mold, when really, you have ceased being a proper canon character the nanosecond you have initiated writing. You are writing your interpretation and, arguably, that cannot be considered the same.

You are INSPIRED. That's marvelous. That's fantastic, even. Your mind is fundamentally different from everyone else's, meaning this character, inspired by whatever take you enjoy most, is going to be irreplaceably unique. No matter what or who changes, that is a constant!

You're allowed to change and develop your character, unbound by whatever canon says or does. Roleplaying is a collaborative front and, frankly, you should be allowed to be as free with your muse as you wish. Get inspired by works, allow your characters to change and grow-- heck, if you get so inspired that it's so fucking different from canon it has to become an OC? THAT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE!!! GO FOR IT!!!

You're a WRITER! Your work is irreplaceable because there will NEVER be another you and that's so freeing! You aren't held down by anything save yourself! If inspiration strikes, go for it! The entire purpose of this artform is to INSPIRE AND BE INSPIRED! So fuck around! Find out! That's the point! That's SICK AS FUCK!!!

Anyways, that's all! Have a good one, everybody!

#My Kingdom ;; OOC #I had more to say but really this was the main point #i've been around AWHILE and I always see people like #worried to branch out or worried that other people are going to replace them (i get that sm honey) #but! that's fundamentally impossible! everyone's vision of the world is so fantastically different #and you can write your version of characters however you wish because it will always be unique #and if you want to branch out all the more and just turn your version of a character into an OC? #fuck i've seen that once or twice and that's SO. DAMN. POWERFUL. #because that's just utter confirmation of this y'know? your take is so unique that it's become an entirely new thing #and that's just.. that's just SO fucking cool. never be afraid to be unique okay? #sure people might not like it. people may say otherwise. #but they're not YOU! they'll never ever know your take unless you! write it! #so write it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #okay i'm done now i'm going back to being busy i just. writing is so powerful... #and i'm always happy when i see people really branch out. #or get really sad when people find themselves replaceable because it's not possible imo

[sunnynwanda]

Under the influence: Part 2

Part 1

As per popular demand, couldn't leave this one without a part 2 :) I hope you'll like it!

Warnings: suggestive? perhaps, enemies with benefits, jealousy.

Villain was never the smothering type. They weren't needy, clingy or possessive. They never got attached and certainly were not one to get jealous. They would be pegged as indifferent and detached, if anything. They hated feeling suffocated by unwanted attention and trapped in endless power plays, so they distanced themself enough to make their stance clear. In other words, Villain didn't do relationships.

But this time was different. Their night with Hero evolved into something they were not anticipating. At first, the whole enemies-with-benefits situation seemed like a good idea. Both of them needed an outlet from their daily lives and struggles - and what better way to do that than fucking out the built-up tension? And it worked well. Too well, if they dare say.

Hero's birthday was three months ago, though it felt much longer than that. Their days went by in a grey haze while the nights blurred into something akin to a nightmare. They met up once or twice a week. Those were the only days that Villain remembered clearly. It felt like they were constantly drunk, only sobering up for the few hours that they spent in Hero's bed. Always in secret, of course. Hero had a reputation to uphold - being seen so much as talking with Villain would be a disaster. Publicity mattered more.

Which was the exact reason for Hero's official date today. And no, Villain did not give a damn about the arm candy that hung onto Hero like their life depended on it. If their sweet smiles and exaggerated giggles made Villain sick in the stomach, it had nothing to do with Hero. Villain despised public displays like that, simple as that. They knew the annual reception was coming up - and Hero needed someone to take. Again, for publicity. The few dates they had sparked discussions, which was what their PR team was building drama for - a red-carpet moment.

Villain huffs, annoyed that Hero cancelled on them for the ditz they were fake dating. Yes, they had every right to date whoever they liked. It's not like Villain had any claim over them or anything. But it still stung. They tried to convince themselves that it was their pride, but the dull ache of their chest spoke otherwise. They slammed a hand over their heart, willing it to shut up.

"I thought you had plans," Hero's voice interrupts their inner monologue rather harshly.

Villain whips around, eyebrows rising. "What are you doing here?" Hero shrugs, sitting down on the cold concrete of the roof Villain was occupying. "Though you had a date?"

Hero nods, mind absent as they trail their eyes over Villain's forced smile and strained jaw. "I did. It ended."

"That soon?" Villain cringes when the question comes out, flooding their throat with rising bile. They intended it to sound sarcastic. It's pathetic how badly they fail to control their emotions.

Hero chuckles, oblivious to the tribulations of their archnemesis. "Took some pics at the bar and walked them to their door."

They don't understand why Villain even wants to talk about something this insignificant. They'd prefer to be kissing them by now, like they always do on this roof.

"That's barely even a date," Villain comments, their voice bitter with something they've not deciphered yet. It's neither jealousy nor anger, the taste more reminiscent of... disappointment? They don't know.

"As long as it counts with the press. Wouldn't wanna waste my whole evening," Hero replies, eyes trained on the city lights. After a moment of silence, they turn to face Villain. "Do you have time? I know I cancelled, but I'm here now."

"What, your contract doesn't cover sex?" Yeah, definitely disappointment. They pray Hero won't question it. "I don't have time, though. I've got places to be and people to rob."

"Hey, are you mad at me?" Hero finally seems to be using their brain, but Villain is nowhere near being happy about it.

They curse under their breath and attempt to salvage the situation by acting dumb. "Why would I?"

"I- you seem off and..." They stop mid-sentence, stepping back into the shadows to avoid being seen when they see a reporter crossing the street.

'Course, publicity over everything," Villain bites their tongue a little too late. They shouldn't have said that. They have no right or reason to feel hurt. And yet they do.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hero steps towards them, about to get hold of their hand, but Villain withdraws it.

"Nothing," with that, they leave, deserting Hero on the cold roof.

Hero is left lost in thought. They keep replaying the conversation to try and make sense of what happened but fail to see the pattern of their behaviour, albeit unwilling, that caused the change in their dynamic with Villain. They are exhausted from the constant role they are forced to play, and Villain is the only escape they have - or, had, as it seems they will now be deprived of it, too.

Hero was in despair. Between patrolling the streets, constant nagging for interviews, fake dating and not seeing Villain other than for battle for two whole weeks, they felt overwhelmed and utterly helpless. It was too much - everything happening at once, urgent demands after pressing requirements after persistent responsibilities. They felt like a caged animal and had no one to blame - all of it was their fault. Thus, Hero was losing their sanity, and the one person that had the ability to ground them wanted nothing to do with them anymore. Another thing that was entirely their fault.

And if all of that was not enough, they had to attend the stupid reception that the mayor was hosting.

"Just my luck," they mumble, struggling with their hair, as their fingers tremble with unreasonable irritation.

They know it's not a big deal, they've been through the same kind of event a dozen times before. Today wasn't gonna be any different. They'll have a glass of ridiculously expensive champagne, force a smile here and there, nod and look invested when someone talks, take pictures for the press and leave as soon as they can. Even if their mind races back and forth, not allowing for a moment of quiet.

Needless to say, by the time their car stops in front of the city hall, Hero is on edge. They are attacked by flashing cameras and a billion questions fired at them as they walk through the doors, ignoring everyone. A glass is pressed into their hand as they enter, the mayor appearing by their side in a matter of seconds. The evening proceeds as predicted until a painfully familiar voice invades their wandering mind.

"Where's your date?" Hero attempts to turn but a firm hand prevents them from moving.

"Villain." The sigh of relief that escapes Hero is audible even over the music. The can't help the smile that tugs at the corners of their lips. God, they missed that voice. "I came alone."

"Hm?" Villain quirks an eyebrow, rounding them to stand face to face to their beautiful yet miserable archnemesis. "How come?"

"You're talking to me now?" Hero looks at them with barely contained contempt. They want to yell at Villain for ignoring - better yet, abandoning them. But that would imply admitting they were in pain.

"Excuse me? I've talked to you plenty." Villain tilts their head, lying through their teeth, but Hero sees right through them.

"No, you have not," their voice is scornful, eyes fixed on their fingers gripping the glass until their knuckles turn white.

"What, did you miss me?" Villain knows it's a poor attempt at mockery when their heart is leaping up their throat.

"I did," Hero admits, as if it's perfectly ordinary for them to say. In their mind, it is. "Why do you look surprised?"

Villain shakes their head, flabbergasted at the path their conversation has taken. The music grows louder as people start flooding the dance floor. "Why would I?"

"Don't give me that bullshit again," Hero pleads, their gaze searches Villain's face for answers but upon not finding anything, they stretch their hand towards them, opting for a different route. "Dance with me?"

"What?" Villain meets their eyes, their expression incredulous. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Perhaps I am," Hero leads them to the center of the room, ignoring the immediate stares and whispers. They are done with hiding. "I've missed talking to you," they murmur into Villains ear as they draw them closer by the waist, "and holding you."

Villain can't breathe, their lungs contracting in their chest at the feeling of Hero's palm against their back. "Did someone spike your drink again?"

Hero shakes their head no, prompting Villain to focus on them. They notice everyone's attention and their manager freaking out in the corner.

"Hero, people are watching." Villain can't tell if Hero is sound of mind at this point, but they still try to reason with them.

"So?" Hero winks before dipping them back. It's an act of rebellion, Villain assumes, barely suppressing their smirk. Fucking finally.

"There are reporters," they point half-heartedly, amusement creeping into their voice.

Hero lets out an exasperated huff but when they speak, their tone is firm and determined. "I don't give a damn about reporters. I need you."

"But what about..?" Villain's question is cut short by Hero's lips pressed against theirs. Their lips part at the suddenness of it, and Hero uses the opportunity to slide their tongue into their mouth. A few gasps and a shriek of horror escape the guests but Hero couldn't care less.

When they pull away, Villain's eyes remain closed to keep all of the spectators out of their mind. "Your public image is in shambles now."

Hero shrugs, an ecstatic grin stretches their lips when Villain meets their gaze. They recognise the familiar dangerous sparkle before Villain can utter the words. "Kiss me again?"

"Right here?" They question, stunned by the request because it was Villain - the same Villain that was disgusted by public sentiments. Villain's eyes go blank again, just like they did in Hero's kitchen when they assumed their advances were unwanted. Hero shakes their head frantically to stop their assumptions from forming. "Yes. God, yes."

Hero barely manages to get the words out before capturing Villain's mouth with theirs in a starved kiss. They feel famished, ravenous as they swallow Villain's every gasp. Suddenly Villain doesn't hate PDA anymore. They allow their arms to snake around Hero's waist, holding them close as they resume swaying to their own rhythm. Hero cups Villain's face and drags their lips over their jaw, before leaving a soft kiss under their ear. "Let's get out of here."

Part 1

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @yes-i-am-a-percyjackson-nerd

#hero and villain #hero #villain #villain x hero #oblivious hero #jealous villain #forbidden love #villain and hero #if it isn't the consequences of their own actions #idiots in love #mutual pining #they're down bad #suggestive #spicy part 1 #suggestive content #hero x villain community #angst with a happy ending #writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #requested #requests open #sunnynwanda

[vinxwatches]

fallout (2024)

WARNING: i did not finish this. i didn't want to finish this. do not read or watch if you like happy stories. do not read or watch if you like the darkness in the fallout games. this show is dark in gruesome, permanently damaging ways. fuck this. the show may fucking nail the aesthetic of fallout, it doesn't get the vibe of fallout. fallout is set in a serious world where video game characters go through a video game plots in a world that's also often goofy. an equivalence would be if the mario movie had a serious burial of Luigi half way through and he just stayed dead. a clear sign that it doesn't get it.

trigger warning: gore, dismemberment of the living and dead. the dog dies.

as a big fan of fallout 4, even fallout 76, and a letsplay of Fnv this is very hype. and the references they are putting in straight is so cool to see. and damn, that's how you start a fallout. and now jus the references, seriously the vault hallways looks straight up lifted from fallout 4 (with high definition mods)

a vault having connections with a different vault? so that either is a process of kicking people the fuck out, or the evil experiment from vault tech... probably both. also love that they don't avoid the fucked up lore that really makes fallout fallout.

oh yea, this is how you start a fallout part 2, the personal angle. kind of bummed that she doesn't start with the classic bulky 10mm. and of course there's something about the protaganists family, because this is bethesda fallout (not derogatively, just perfect adaptation)

me, out loud: "ohhh, that's the pridwin, that's so cool" if you get me to talk out loud you did good. petty power politics? how very fallout of you. "i'm bringing him home". i'm very sorry but that's not how fallout works.

also loves that bethesda continues with inclusivity. Dane is nonbinary, played by a trans actor. it's so small, it plays no role (at least i find it HIGHLY unlikely that it will. nb people are just part of reality, and so they are now (finally) entering media.

the fucking junk jet made it in?

just "the ghoul". i wonder if we'll get more info on what ghouls are. i mean i know. i've probably heard more false things then there's true stuff about ghouls to know. but if you're new to fallout i think the vault is relatively obvious, and the brotherhood is pretty well explained. but the concept of a ghoul? practivally nothing outside of them being scary, can go "feral", and are weird. but it is only the first episode.

02

it wouldn't be fallout without skeletons in strange positions and/or environmental story telling. did they use fallout sound effects for the weird man drinking water? it may not be but that is diamond city. at least based of it. it looks so fallout that i can't even remember which of the places i've had a shootout in it reminds me of, it's too many.

not a fan of living gore. like fallout game gore is fine. shooting limbs of completely mindless things? fine. but not on a person, espcially not one that's then crudely taken care of. i'm way too terrified of something happening to me, it tends to roam in my mind anyways, even more so now that i've a reason to give a shit about my body, so the dismemberment of the living... ew, please, no more. at least it doesn't stick around too long (in which case why? just to be gross?)

"cyanide was the most humane product vault tech ever made"... accurate yet horrifying.

03

oh... so that's who the ghoul is. and that, well it'll create drama, and i'm curious how close it's to the story of nuka break. haven't seen that show in too long.

me, out loud, after wondering what that monster was "oh of course it was a gulper. wait, no, those are east coast, this was west coast." not really a plothole, monsters from one side often make their way to the other. harder for a water based creature. unless the same thing evolved twice.

oh, those eyes weren't just more human then expect. that thing was human... once.

the golden rule is severely lacking. don't do onto others as you'd have them to onto you. if i was into bondage and often horney how do you think it'd treat people if the golden rule was. a good rule is "treat others how they want to be treated" or "treat others how you can reasonably expect they want to be treated". the golden rule of the wasteland is pretty accurate though: "thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time". this rule is, in fact, recursive.

of course the waterchip is broken. this is fallout after all.

04

ok, no, i'm done. no dismemberment of main characters. fuck you. even if she does get it back. i'm done.

#fallout #fallout tv series #fallout show #fallout amazon

[mod2amaryllis]

Lots of people are coming out with their best shows/movies/anime etc. of the year, and since you have such impeccable taste I'd love to hear yours! Only if it's okay ofc! Have a wonderful rest of 2022 and great 2023!

ok this is the only end of year reflection i have the capacity to do tonight, lemme thiiink ummm it was a big year for things tbh!!! I'll just ramble i guess, first up...

TV SHOWS

SEVERANCE: possibly the best first season of a show I've ever seen, and absolutely the best s1 finale of a show I've ever seen, huge ups to @tricktster for recommending it. you've probably heard it a million times but if you haven't, GO WATCH SEVERANCE, it lives up to the hype.

THE REHEARSAL: the magic trick that this show pulls is so bizarre and unprecedented it's like. impossible for me to even talk about. the entire time watching it i was gaping at my tv in open disbelief. it does and says so much in the wildest ways possible I'm still obsessed.

WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS S4: three words, Baby Colin Robinson

ANDOR: I'm not a star wars guy at allll. not even a little bit. my expectations have never been high. but when i saw @variastrix loving it up on my dash i was like okaaay and holy shit. SO good. the prison arc especially was just like OUUUGHH THEMES AND DIALOGUE OFF THE CHARTS!!!

ANIME

SPY X FAMILY: what's especially fun is that we were in Japan while the second part of the season was dropping and Anya was fucking eeeeverywhere!!! everyone agrees with me cannot get ENOUGH of that funny little girl!!! best execution of fake dating trope everr the more convoluted the better.

MOB PSYCHO 100 III: ......like. c'mon what is there to even say. what's there to saaaaay! it's in my top 3 anime ever! the subversion of shonen anime has basically ruined all other stereotypical anime for me forever because it's just. so much better. so much funnier and more poignant to watch the most powerful boy ever strive to be a better person. i love that little guy and his silly conman role model

MOVIES

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE: i feel the same way about this movie as anyone else. saw the trailer, hooked instantly, then when i actually watched it i walked out going "this is the greatest movie I've ever seen??????" insanely shot, cast incredible, the whole premise simultaneously huge as a multiverse and small as an immigrant couple in a laundromat. this movie defined my cosmic outlook on life. that nothing matters, so we should make the most out of what and who we love. in any other year this would've been my far and away fave. but then came:

NOPE: you guys follow me. you've heard it already. this movie ..... this..... FUCKING MOVIE.... haunted me from the moment i saw that chimp covered in blood. it scared me so bad i wasn't even sure if i liked it but then i thought and kept thinking AND I THOUGHT AND KEPT THINKING AND I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING this movie this god damn movie. it's a social commentary, it's a blockbuster popcorn hit, it's about animals, it's about people, it's a creature feature, it's funny, it's glorious to look at it's glorious and i love it so so much. Jean jacket really is a beautiful name for a baby girl.

GAMES:

VAMPIRE SURVIVORS: this game is like if you broke gaming down to it's purest chemical form and injected it directly into your bloodstream. it's a game that might be perfect in its simplicity. it's also really funny that i can be a stinky old garlic man, i like that a lot. it's free on mobile what are you waiting for.

HORIZON FORBIDDEN WEST: i feel so fucking bad for this series not once, but TWICE releasing at the same time as two of the greatest games literally ever made (i still have to beat elden ring oops) because i love these games SO MUCH! they scratch a very particular itch for me which is plenty of upgradable weapons/armor for me to chase, incredibly in depth lore, and post apocalyptic robot dinosaurs. literally no notes. i love games like this that're like "we know what you want. you want to kill a spinosaurus with a bow and arrow and afterwards treat yourself to some incredible American vistas, here, take it, enjoy." it's an incredibly Me game. probably my goty if measured by how much fun i had playing it.

ALBUMS:

BRONCO BY ORVILLE PECK: the biggie. life changer. this beat out pony for me. makes me wanna be a lonesome cowboy in the Rockies so fucking bad i can taste it. like....im already thiiiis close to being a lonesome cowboy in the Rockies and when i listen to curse of the blackened eye on my morning walk, looking at the snow capped mountains, I'm there. I'm a cowboy baby. also saw him live and sobbed he's insane, the talent, he's just showing off he's nuts.

LAST NIGHT IN THE BITTERSWEET BY PAOLO NUTINI: through the echoes specifically. came up randomly in a mixed playlist and swiveled my head so fucking fast. one of my favorite artist finds of the year.

NOPE OST BY MICHAEL ABELS: that's right bitch nope gets featured TWICE, idc!!!

DANCE FEVER BY FLORENCE + THE MACHINE: this is the album to finally get me into Florence + the machine, before i was just into the hits but this album.... King? FREE???? DAFFODIL???????? good god welch

THINGS IN GENERAL

mfucking!!!!!!!!!

FISH!!!!!!!!!! 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟💙💙💙💙✌️✌️✌️🥰🥰🥰🥰🐠🐠🐠🐟🐠🐟🐠🐟🐠🐟🐠🐡🐡🐡🐡🐡🦈🦈🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

#this took me too long enjoy #goodbye 2022 you were huge #m2a #m2answers

[neonanima]

berserk is one of the queerest anime i've ever seen. like queer in a way bl/shounen-ai usually has nothing to do with. first of all, there are all these scenes where guts clutches his sword at the hilt near his crotch, dialogue emphasizing how big guts' sword is and how much he loves swinging his sword—which could be visual-metaphor-for-kids type imagery, but once is a nod, twice is a wink, three times is a theme, four times is a critique. or something.

and then! there is so much gender commentary in the characters of casca and griffith. casca presents in personality and appearance as masculine, but the visual cue of her lip color hangs like a barbie-pink asterisk throughout until her more vulnerable side is eventually explored. meanwhile, griffith is prettier than a girl but has all the qualities prescribed to the ideal, hypermasculine man—power, influence, battle skills, confidence. whenever there are two main characters flanking the central main character, i tend to see them as representing different sides of the central character—casca being guts' desire to be strong but vulnerable and sympathetic, griffith his desire to be admired yet detached.

the last few episodes i watched had me thinking about how pining is queer. desiring, defining others and the self through that desire, fixating and imitating and misguidedly idolizing based on who you're attracted to—queer as fuck! i love the ways casca and guts have grown closer in the last few episodes, based on shared outsider-ness and an admiration for griffith's determination to succeed despite his outsider-ness.

there are so many bits of dialogue you could ruminate on for days. like "the battlefield is a man's sacred ground and you, a woman, have desecrated it!" or charlotte giving griffith the male half of a trinket that's designed to "be attracted to" its female counterpart and "bring him home," defining femininity as the beloved domestic thing that makes masculine fighting/death worth it (which griffith REJECTS, oh damn). in a setting where gender roles are rigid opposites, the show attempts to show the ways people try to define and justify themselves, while focusing particularly on the ways these three main characters attempt to carve alternative paths, knowingly or not.

#berserk #anime #queerness

[what-if-nct]

hi today's reminder is I've been playing this Pokemon game for a few days and I finally leveled up enough to find legendaries and i spent an hour looking for one and found it twice in that hour (finding it once is unlikely, twice is damn near impossible) and accidentally ended up defeating it both times why the fuck is my team so strong this has never been a problem before if i don't catch it tomorrow i will Sob

also happy birthday to my husband the loml the man single handedly carrying the reputation of the male species the romcom lead that escaped from the books i read as a teenager Qian Kun

Hiiii!! Ooh that sounds fun. If I'm honest I don't know too much about Pokemon beyond what I watched when I was six it was more my sister's thing. But how lucky you are to find it twice I hope you get to catch it tomorrow. And yaaay Kun's birthday he really is a romcom lead, like genuinely I've never seen a man more husband material than Kun. He also has the energy of a young divorced single father in a Hallmark movie who goes out of his way to help you pick a Christmas tree in the snow while his kids are home terrorizing the babysitter but to win you over he calls them his little angels meanwhile Yangyang locked the babysitter in a closet and Xiaojun and Hendery are flooding the kitchen while Winwin is on a date turned his phone off and Ten is at a singles night speed dating thing I kinda got lost I don't know how I got here. But happy birthday Kun.

Oh, okay random but I have to say this. I'm an adult doll collector. But I absolutely hate other adult doll collectors. They complain and whine about every little thing. Forgetting the target audience is kids. I may jokingly say no child is allowed to touch my dolls but I know the core audience. Mga and Mattel do recognize adult collectors and do cater to them within reason but adult collectors have to realize we're not the intended demographic it's complaint after complaint over the tiniest things. Also mga putting out they're going to make another live action Bratz movie after Barbie's success. I'm biased but the power of Barbie is unbeatable. I actually wish the Barbie movie had more Barbie.

[aviatrix-ash]

I have no idea where I'm going to be this time next year. I'll be fully certified to maintain planes by the summer, and tho I will likely get my start playing with the flight school's planes sometime in the next few months when I get my Airframe license, if all works out, I may get with the local cargo planes after- but there's a high chance the airlines might snatch me up. I have little desire to go into the airlines, ngl, but I may if they bribe me enough, which will end up having to be pretty damn nice bribe cause I already known what the cargo guys have on the table. The offers I've seen from 3 of the biggest airlines so far are extremely lowballed in comparison. 😆Even then, I would still prefer to get into NOAA's Hurricane Hunter base. 😏

They say the airlines are desperate for A&Ps cause most of the people they had the last 20-40 years are retiring rn. + at the beginning of 'rona when all the airlines were grounded, they made thousands of their employees retire, 3 of my teachers in the last year were among em. It's kinda funny, one of teachers said they legit offered him 20k cash to retire on the spot early 2020, so of course he took that, I don't blame him! Tho now they're calling him up during class to come back to work. He turns it down each time cause even tho he's worked for em for 30 years, they keep offering their starting wages (16-18/hr depending on day or overnights) and he's like "I'm not squeezing into fuel tanks again for that!"

When the CEO of that one airline stopped by my class last month to whine about how he can't get any mechanics, but his wages would start at less than what I made in retail and top off at about the same as what I could make in any local warehouse. Like bruh, you want me to be held responsible for thousands and thousands of lives for that and I'd have to move to one of the most expensive cities in the US?? Nah bruh.🙃 Ngl tho, it's kinda nice getting to call some shots as the worker for once. Some of my old coworkers see it as stingy but the sheer level of liability and real consequences that can come if there'sa fuck up makes you think twice. Every older aircraft mechanic I've talked to say they keep a lawyer on speed dial, the companies and the feds will try to do everything in their power to make their job easy and fuck over the easiest person to get. And keeping good personal records of the work you did on a plane can be the only thing keeping you from being charged for murder. One of the museum guys I volunteer with said it almost happened to him because the airline had lost records of a repair someone else after him did. I've seen my Airframe instructor break down after retelling some of her legal battles. & my powerplant teacher says🔺️ deleted lots of old records back in 2011- the big airline that still flies jets that are 30+ years old. In normal US court of law you're innocent until proven guilty, with the FAA you're guilty of crashing a plane with 200 people on it until proven otherwise. Yah, not playing that game. I love aviation with all my being, but imo that type of stuff is more scary than flying any clapped out 1960s flight school shitbox plane. + yah, I highly value my free time and wellbeing, but I know exactly how dangerous this work can get and just what kind of toll it will take on me in time. My options are practically endless rn when I get that card, so I'm going to go with what's best for me. ((':

#planeposting #yah this was a derailed train #oh well

[lesenbyan]

Give me the director's commentary on the fic about Falon'Din's temple beatdown - what compelled you to write it, what you wanted it to accomplish, etc.!

Fanfic Writer Director's Cut

oh man hon it's been years and my memory is terrible, let me see what I can slot together with the pieces it gives me.

First off, though you know this, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I'm a Falon'Din kinnie with Opinions and Headcanons (read: projection).

But I think what compelled me ti write it is the same thing I wanted to accomplish, which is. basically the same thing any sympathetic retelling of a villain's story does. Like. I'm not gonna argue with the very little lore we've got that says he was fucking terrible bc like yeah. yeah. They all were, they had to be. He was a fucking monster. And the temple beat down was very much him getting a bit of what he deserved (but. not from anyone who deserved to dish it out) but like.

You know how when you take a character canon gives you nothing on and you build them from the ground up everything you made shapes how you see canon events? Like the only telling we have of it is that it happened really, and not a whole lot more. But when you add in the many flavors of mentally unwell and otherwise traumatized my hcs make Falon'Din it gives the whole thing a different tint. From the outside it's an arrogant asshole refusing to back down. From the inside it's a scared boy bluffing a fake it til you make it as so many of his actions actually are and the moment the bluff starts the fracture internally where his worries go.

Like, I've always been fascinated in what makes people break, where that line is for each person and whether or not they can recover. But, of course, it is far more ethical to explore this in fiction which is why I can't even really write fluff past a certain word count without a vein of bittersweet or crack to keep it light. And when the mighty and arrogant fall they fall hard. But my Falon'Din, while he's bought into his own act, it's doesn't run very deep. My Falon'Din is conscious of how much of him was shaped by Dirthamen and how much of his power he owes to his twin. Could he have done it alone given the same knowledge? sure, probably. But no one was going to give him that. Literally and figuratively Falon'Din knows he owes everything he has to Dirthamen and would give it up in a moment if Dirthamen asked (love as a corrupting force, y'see) but Dirthamen wouldn't ask bc like. He doesn't want it. that's so much work. he only worked for the goal bc Falon'Din wanted it.

So he honestly thinks he can't die, that he's in the right, but he also knows this shit is real which is why he doesn't let Dirthamen stay. Bc he's cocky and arrogant but he knows that this isn't just gonna be some reprimand, he knows this is gonna be bloody, and he's a damn good fighter, he fights among his own front lines, but Dirthamen isn't here to shield him and he's against everyone else. And that moment is compelling.

But to balance it, to show him in his entirety, his recovery needed to be seen too- his recovery and his past. Bc there is where we see Dirthamen's hand molding the clay, shaping him. I wanted to convey that Falon'Din (excuse me, Athim) is a blank slate and not once, but twice Dirthamen (Renan, bc what is he to the world here if not his voice?) took him and molded him into this. That Falon'Din's a monster and knows it and loves it, but he knows it's because Dirthamen made him so.

#asks; #sezja #ask meme; #dragon age; #it's about the devotion and the corruption and the death and rebirth and the love and loyalty #its about how they're monsters but they love each other so deeply #it's about how Falon'Din cares about so few people except that he cares about them all- why else guide them in death? #it's about how Dirthamen gives him his whole identity when he needs it. how he takes on roles he would otherwise shy away from #just to maintain a farce while his twin cannot even stand his own face #It's about opposites and similarities and about how both sides of the coin are connected after all #this got far more poetic than I expected it to get #but you feel me

[mevekagvain]

Chapter 526 - Funny that Crombel is still unaware of the noblesse. Idiot.

- Once again when in danger, Suyi and Yuna immediately hugged each other :)

- 'All right I am'? Who the hell made Raizel watch star wars?

Chapter 527 - I don't think searching for Lukedonia is dumb in of itself, but yes it is stupid to do so on a tiny boat with no room for more than a day's worth of supplies.

- I'm of the opinion that if Raizel had more lifeforce, he could have destroyed all the satellites from one spot instead of having to run around to below where they were orbiting.

Chapter 528 - So Ikhan lives in a house with his uncle who's a policeman, Yuna lives in a very pink place with her family (or at least her mother), and Shinwoo lives alone in an apartment. Ikhan's home and room are pretty nice though his bed's the wrong way around, the living room we saw way back when was also cool.

- Ikhan being able to basically unblur images is both impressive and very very uncomfortable.

Chapter 530 - I do think Crombel improved First's face.

Chapter 531 - The newest translator really changed the speech patterns completely. Not a fan. Raizel also keeps doing Yoda lines every now and then :/

- How is Raizel finding the places of the coordinates anyway? Is Tao projecting a map into his brain???

- Huh. A flashback with Lunark advising M-21. Good for them.

Chapter 533 - They should have made Crombel look younger in his flashback.

- Seeing the results of your experiments, I don't particularly want a new world with your 'creations' bro.

- Karias and Amore!!

Chapter 534 - See! Even Karias is wondering how the modified ppl keep regenerating endlessly!

- Hi Lunark.

Chapter 535 - Muzaka and Raizel in an alleyway is so suspicious hsjskksks.

- No Frankenstein's rude to everyone, Crombel. You aren't special.

Chapter 536 - Karias looks very cool. Big fan.

- Takeo killed Aris. Poetic <3

Chapter 537 - Rip Yuri and Mark.

- Raizel "I wish I was home instead of in the damn USA".

Chapter 538 - I still think it's hilarious that DarkSpear built Frankenstein a throne inside of itself. Why?

- What are you? A librarian? Stop complaining about shit you knew would happen Frankenstein. Only I'm allowed to do that.

Chapter 539 - Can you imagine seeing that eccentric girl who came to your school like twice on TV because it turns out she was actually the ruler of an OP supernatural species? Would be awkward.

Chapter 540 - Speak for yourself Crombel, I've wanted to be rich but I've never wanted power. At most I've wanted wings to fly with.

- Raskreia just sounds like she's saying she/nobles don't give a shit about humans with her phrasing and it's not true and ajjaksksk.

- Have we considered the only reason all these bloodstone users are turning into monsters is because they're using artificial ones? The only one who used a real one is Lagus and he only got it in the invasion itself so... He probably was embedded with an artificial one too. I know there's that one guy from the sidestory but maybe the stranger who gave him the bloodstone was Lagus and thus it was also an artificial one. Or maybe he becomes monstrous since he's a human who absorbed other humans and nobles' power. Probably the latter actually.

Speaking of artificial bloodstones, they become useless when broken unlike the real ones which are crystals and even a broken part is useful as seen with the guy from the sidestory.

Chapter 541 - The only person I care for in this room of nobodies 🥺

Chapter 542 - Shinwoo's the only one not crying about Raizel going off to die.

- Raskreia just say noblesse oblige and walk off. It may not be as heartwarming but it wastes less time. These missiles truly be slow as fuck.

Chapter 543 - Personally, I understand how Raizel, Raskreia, and Rozaria could contribute, but how are Kei and Muzaka gonna help? Punch a missile?? That's counterproductive.

- 'My soul echoes nothing different'. Damn Raizel, that's also very quotable. I'm going to hc that that's a common reply to someone saying I love you (be it platonic or romantic) in noble culture. He and Muzaka are truly besties.

- :(

- :(

- Idc if I know they aren't dead. My beloved characters don't and that's iwiwiwiwiwi.

Epilogue - I don't think it's particularly strange that the kids forgot about Raizel and everything else. One can just assume Raizel suppressed their memories once again when he knocked them out.

- Shinwoo cried this time too :3

- Dw Muzaka. Give it another century and my darling Jinan will beat your ass for the position.

- Lukedonians <3

- My hc for the end part is just Frankenstein and Third trying to figure out what the fuck was in those missiles to heal Raizel and the other 3 once destroyed, noble biology because actually he knows jack shit even after his experiments 1000+ years ago since he didn't do much, etc etc. Which actually is useless because my hc is that aside from Muzaka and Kei who did survive because like I said, them being there is dumb so they didn't contribute much, Raizel, Raskreia, and Rozaria did die and produce their red glowy dust. They were just lucky that the next time the universe aligned was like a month later so they then revived <3

#noblesse #raining while reading #end of this #will go thru the sidestory and alpha next #then the novelisation

[aqueouserbium]

I'm feeling like having a word vomit regarding Dragon Age romance.

So, like, a few weeks ago now I finished a replay of Dragon Age: Inquisition with a Solas romance (wanted to see what all the hubbub was about). I also struggled and struggled and eventually got Dragon Age: Origins to play on my computer, so I started that (still crashes but can sustaibably play for a bit if I don't tab out). Since I couldn't start at DAO, I spent time reviewing stuff in Dragon Age Keep.

I've already ranted about how I got cucked twice on PS3 from a Leliana romance, and how that first time led me to romance Morrigan (didn't finish the second one out of spite), but that led me to experiencing moments in my first (and, for a while, only full) DAI playthrough to have tidbits of Warden×Morrigan dialogue, so I didn't get to experience anything from what I had hoped to experience with Leliana. I thusly proclaimed in DAK that the Warden romanced Leliana. And every moment Lady Nightingale shared with the Inquisitor about the Warden was just about everything I needed. It was great. 10/10 will do again.

Regarding Hawke and the Dragon Age 2 romances, I've always been enamored by Merrill. She's so damn cute and driven and studious and ajhsvrosj. Naturally, I set her as Hawke's romance in DAK. Unlike Leliana's dialogue, though, I didn't get much about Merrill. You don't spend enough time with Hawke for the Inquisitor to become friends with the Champion, and I yearn for my powerful blood mage.

In DAK, I maintain a "This Is My Ideal World State—My Personal Canon" option, and it changes every so often if I care enough to review it. Naturally, this replay and re-dive into Dragon Age led to me caring, so I went through it all again after finishing DAI. All the art I've seen on here and the continued excitement of the fandom despite only having blips of communication and non-game media from BioWare helped push this, too. Despite my absolute love for Leliana and Merrill, I think my headcanon for the overall story has changed.

I think it's become Warden/Morrigan and Champion/Fenris.

For the former, a male Warden being Kieran's father sends me to a place in my mind that I haven't yet explored, and I love that. I don't remember much of any of the connection being deeply regarding in my first DAI playthrough, but I want there to be more for it, and I think this situation will be incredible. I'm sorry for taking the love of your life away, Leliana. I still love you.

For the latter, I've seen some amazing art depicting Fenris finding Hawke in the Fade, and there's something about it that just fucking slaps so damn good. I don't doubt that Merrill would do the same, but Merrill has a lot of responsibility that she's taken based on what I know from the games—she has other people she needs to protect. I don't know—maybe I just feel like it'd be garder for her to pursue Hawke with all that. (NOT TO MENTION THAT BIOWARE FORCES HAWKE TO BE VERY AGGRESSIVELY ANTI TO BLOOD MAGIC IN DAI WHICH EITHER MAKES THEM A HYPOCRITE ABOUT MERRILL OR FUCKING ABUSIVE TO HER.) Again, I don't fully know, but Fenris going after Hawke in the Fade is just a powerful image that I love so much. Merrill I absolutely love you, and I would never talk shit about blood mages in a general sense that would have to include you because it's said so generally.

In regards to DAI romances, my first was Cassandra, which was partially accidental because I was kind of flirting with a lot of people but would often talk to her first. I really liked it, too, especially when she and my Inquisitor would hide away with each other once she was the Divine. There's something so sweet and powerful about that. However, I feel like the Solas romance will end up being my ideal canon. I don't know. It wasn't that it was exceptionally fantastic to play through, but I think it has the greatest potential for intrigue in future games, especially Dragon Age: Dreadwolf (obviously). Like, The Iron Bull is hot, but his romance is weirdly lacking after climax, with sex being one of the only obvious elements of it. While I love Cassandra as the Divine and romancing the Inquisitor, I think I want Leliana as the Divine, so that plot intrigue becomes limited. And the other romances, while often enjoyable, just don't have the power of plot driving them for me. (I desperately want to romance Scout Harding, though. So bad. I know she can get with Sera, but I'm down for a throuple.)

All the romances (except Sebastian) have their merit and fun, but Morrigan–Fenris–Solas will probably keep as my canon. Kind of sucks because I normally like with queer ships but I see my Hawke as female.

#aqErant #dragon age

[caribouv]

2022 best

If it's first it means it's not last. This is probably the most underwhelming and unexciting yearly list I've ever put together.

+ ALBUM

Foxtails - fawn

FONTAINES D.C. - Skinity Fia

Drunk Uncle - Look Up

Birds in Row - Gris Klein

Pool Kids - s/t

OCULA - Crossroad

Le Youth - Reminders

Horsegirl - Versions

Beach House - Once Twice Melody

Soccer Mommy - Sometimes, Forever

+ SONG

Chase Plato - Set You Free

djimboh - Up Here (with Lumynesynth)

+ RECORD/COVER

Honestly, whatever Lane 8 / This Never Happened cooked up this year. I spent too much time listening to mixes and not enough time paying attention to what was actually playing.

+ SET/MIX

Deep Woods with Pretty Pink was awesome, but Lane 8's season mixes played on repeat this year from start to finish. You could just throw any of these on and you've got instant 2-3 hours of deep house, trance. I'm listening to Fall 2022 right now.

Foxtails on Audiotree is awesome too. It's wild the vocals coming out of that girl.

+ MOVIE

This Place Rules (even though fucking Andrew certainly doesn't.)

Trainwreck Woodstock 99'

Nope

Pearl

Movies sort of sucked this year for me. Though to be fair I'm wildly behind on my list: The Whale, Marcel Shoes, Inisherin, Till, Quiet Girl, Avatar 2, All Quiet, etc. etc.

+ TV SHOW

Andor and Queen's Gambit. Without a dobut. Vox Machina is so so so good, but those two shows are on a different level.

Also to note: TV was really, really good this year. Half Bad, Power Rings, Dragon House, Yellowjackets, Arcane, Cyberpunk, Midnight Club, Eps 4 7 8 of Curiositiy Cabinents, Stranger Things 4, End is Nye, Prehistoric Planet, White Lotus, Severance, 1899, Wednesday, Maisel 4, Fleabag 2. I really don't think I watched much anything I didn't like other than that Salt Fat Acid garbage.

+ ACTOR

Voice actors from Vox Machina. I'm so stoked for s2 coming up here next week.

+ VIDEO GAME

Another year of Dead By Daylight. I can't get away from this game.

Project Zomboid and 7 Days To Die are both stellar. It reminds me of the Minecraft/Terraria split from 2010. WOTLK was generally a lot of fun, but I think it's more than just playing resto shaman is a blast. Cycle Frontier was cool af and the only reason I quit is because of how cracked the players are at it. But DBD. D. B. D. I think I'm at like 1,850 hours in it.

+ BOOK

Still going through Wheel of Time. I'm at book 9. They are not mindblowing anymore and I'm getting bored of the constant gender distrust themes, but they are absolutely epics.

+ ATHLETE

M FUCKING BPAPPE. I haven't seen a soccer game as exciting as that world cup final in years.

+ PERSON

Penny or Houdini or my Mom

+ FOOD

I stopped eating out as much this year and instead tried making the food I'd order because budget. Pad Thai, Enchiladas, Lasagna, Chicken Parmesan, Ragu, Soups, Roasts, etc.

The best thing I made over and over this year was Biba's Ragu though. It's dumb how easy it is for how good it is.

Also onions. No matter what you're making, if you add onion to it then it will be better. Spaghetti, eggs, potatoes, ramen, sandwich, burger, salad, pizza, chicken, soup, noodles, rice, beans, etc. ADD ONIONS.

+ TRIP

I went nowhere this year.

+ MOMENT

Probably quitting and getting the fuck out of my mismanaged firm. God damn that was liberating af. Two other attorneys peaced the fuck out right after me too.

+ BIGGEST LETDOWN

Losing Luigi was horrible.

The new Odesza and Flume albums were trash.

Blowing my ankles out in late Feburary sucked because I was starting to really get going with running in a good way.

Clerks 3 had such a brilliant concept to go full circle, but instead it just degrading into  clunky fan service, old references, and cameos.

//

Goals for 2023: Read more nonfiction & a bit the same as 2022: create something be it flash fiction, story, game, whatever.

[frankenphetamine]

Jabberwocky.

everyone’s tripping on tower bricks and crystal candycanes. twin bruises girl, you know what i mean pain star, call upon your saint of choice...Im tired of your perverted crush

i opened up to your wind rush and rejoiced

such a long long time ago and turned my back when i saw your muddy body in an ocean grave post-you showing

to me your truest colors and stabbed yourself face-first.

i turned the other cheek too much i told you sorry but i'm not. you were vile little alice. and twice as fucking vain. you planted seeds of jealousy in your flying monkeys trying to saddle me with blame.

you’re not a wicked witch yknow, you no longer have to play the part, my little horned flame.

they try to look and act like different masks of mine because you can't seem to replace me.

so why whine? because you broke your own damn heart with expectations and competitive childlike flaunts and you know now you’ll never beat me, yet…

i never wanted this for us and never thought of you ill that way. i loved you dearly but not queerly so you chose to run away.

it's your turn for the qliphoth now.

i've seen god and before him, in the abyss you too shall bow. your soul will mush, decay and rot. but you too shall be reborn as a babalonian jackpot

i crossed the abyss some times and i hope you cross it 3 times harder. the dark night of the soul awaits you. a punishment for repeated betrayal. betrayed me and betrayed yourself, your truest will and so did your selfish pawns.

i only screwed him because you screwed mine first. your power drill nails etched your name into my heart because you hate me. because you need me, and i loved you in a way you didn't want.

i truly tried to be your friend. not your experiment or toy. not your sidepiece or gay twin flame. not your charity accessory left gaunt

bought drugs for you and cried with you, chauffeured you and played your maid. i never wanted to compete with you but you couldn't stand the beacon in my soul and sprayed it with acidic Raid.

im a black hole now so honey try not to get sucked into the tirade.

i turned the other cheek too much and lapped up all your tears, i never tore your spirit down because the truth falls on deaf ears.

plato's cave is where you stay with your army of social elites. you all remind me of billionaires, the way our backs ache from your pairs of trust fund feet.

are the dots starting to connect yet miss alice? i know you feel ashamed. you’re only sorry for me and my struggle now because you’ve been defamed.

i’ll say it once and i’ll say it again, cus The Whore has just rode in.

i turned the other cheek too much my dear and you really love to strike when i can’t see you.

my blood dries purple. you made a martyr of me. i wear the crown, of silver lilac lavender, my three eyes bleed blue rivers clean, and my severed neck bears pearls and golden faked aquamarine, my heart pumps out green lightning. my stomach a golden meadow

of carnage under the moon, my womb a flaming holy wound. my sex an aching rushing haze of red and amethyst.

royal chrisist crucifixion, i wear my scars from you.

I strike you down girl, cus you were never friend but foe, you. dug your talons in… and i lost everything… but in the end what did you gain?

sweet alice please don’t be so vain, your fanclub’s had enough! be wiser and behave like a woman grown… i think we’ve both had enough… check your heart and like a phoenix or scorpions tail, i hope youre fit to rise.

and you, the brainless scarecrow, you’ve made me stiff like hay.

i inherit emerald city and toss your memory like a can of tin. I wear the mark of the beast and white and blue for my future munchkins.

you, april rose… bear the hat of the fool. I’ll hide you from your rabbit hole just for preying on me in high school. i am the white rabbit; see, you have to stop chasing after me. wake up my loves it’s time to say goodbye to wonderland where you’re kings and queens of swords, illuminating hell with your deceptive fabric lies and attempting me and i, my kingdom, my jabberwocky. i the queen of hearts and dorthyann and mallory, see past your pixels, hear me: your tok is tikking girl. the doctors got your medicine, on tower pills you choke. heavenly mother will always be here, for you’re entitled to instructions.

we know his manhood's tiny... and id still cut the arms right of him; if he ever put a hand on you unprompted.

i warn you that the tunnels reek of illness and destruction.

i hope he gives you all you dream of because at the end of the day ye hath deserve it.

i seal this letter with a kiss and send you off and angels lift

their wings to take your sainthood and bless you with their crown.

one more thing you should know, the crows told me your rainbow aura’s looking brown regina george.

Thoths sandy crown is now my cross to split and bear and disperse upon ye. jesus was the mushroom you hurled.

Sleep tight and dont let the bedbugs bite. You'll meet the Giant in the White Lodge where the owls gorge the flesh of THE ARM 🎖🍸🪖👽🏔☮️🕊 Y LA ZEITGEIST!

[uncanny8ellen]

Freiheitskämpfer

"How did you know?"

"Hm?"

He puts the drill down. I silently give a few tugs here and there with my power, and see if any platform budges. All tightly screwed in. He's a fast learner, I'd give him that.

"How did you know I'm against Mirander?"

Without words, he slowly stands up from where he was kneeling down. As I take a long drag from the half-burnt cigar, my eyes track his movement. With his back still facing me, he cracks his back once, twice. No way the bastard didn't break his back, not with those sounds coming from his spine.

Like usual he stares into distance, like he's one of those villagers stoned out from Donna's leaves. As strange as it was, I've already seen enough dead eyes that could fill up this room entirely, and the way he just fucking stops everytime was starting to get on my fucking nerves.

Just when I was about to shout at his way he speaks up.

"You are a good actor. Very convincing. Your eyes, not so much. Hence the glasses. Correct?"

So the fucker figured that out. Clever. But that wasn't all. No, no. There was more to it, I could tell. Just what are you hiding, errand boy?

"So you are telling me, that you thought one of the four lords of the village, the most dangerous one, no less, must oppose dear Mother, all just from looking at my eyes?"

Smoke billows out through the grin and shrouds my feature as I chuckle.

"Quite an assumption. Not only that, you boldly confronted me about it, even though you seemed to know what the alternative could mean for you......I'll say, it is refreshing to see someone with actual guts and wits around here. Being surrounded by bowing heads and feverish whispers is only fun for a couple times."

I watch as ashes fall off the lit end of cigar like the wet snow outside. I turn it around in my hand, briefly wondering if I refilled the stock.

"But it's understandable such trait is rare in this place. People who question Mirander's intention tend to...disappear. Your approach to the matter was amusing, but the danger was also very real. I could have simply crushed your skull as soon as the question left your mouth, and Mirander would've had your body spiked on a stick. Set as an example, that no 'heretic' is ever to be tolerated."

He slightly turns my way and grabs the railing, leaning against it. I take a puff. Although I'm looking right into his eyes I still cannot tell what the fuck's going on in that head. Even the pause in-between was starting to get irritating. Just what is he? How does he know so much? What's his intention? For all I knew he could be Miranda's little spy, just another nosy moron that was soon to be crushed under my boot. Or this outsider was plotting something. Said he's a worker.......what kind of work, exactly?

Only more questions pile up on my sleep deprived brain, and the cigar burns brighter, lighting up my face in the dim light. Smoke clouds dance around my vision and I notice he still hasn't said a damn thing. If this fucker thinks he can waste my time like this-

"Eyes tell a lot about a person. It just so happens that I recognize what's in yours."

"And just what would that be?"

"Closest I call 'hellbent'. Chronic, unquenchable rage. Only the most extreme and constant stress forges it. Be it God or saint, it maims the one who wronged you. But the worst it damages, its wielder. Those eyes belong to a man who's desperate to break free, because at this rate, it is either you or them."

I grit my teeth so hard the cigar almost got severed in two. Just who the FUCK this bastard thinks he is? Barging into my factory, wasting my fucking time, and now the prick thinks he can take my head apart like some jigsaw puzzle all because he looked my way once.

With growl I spat, "Better watch your mouth, fucker, you are in my factory. Just because I tolerate your presence sometimes doesn't mean you can forget your place. Yammering on like that, about how you know oh so well about me, could get you killed oh so easily."

With the same blank fucking look he continues.

"I don't mean to offend sir. But I think I can tell when I come across the very same eyes I've been seeing my entire life."

Through anger peaks curiosity. Same eyes? What's he talking about?

"What do you mean?"

"I'm familiar with the look, sir. Why, I see it even these days, when I happen to look in any mirrors."

And back to the bullshit again. Seriously? The guy barely uses any facial muscles. I cock my head to a side and show him my full sneer.

"I dunno, you don't seem very vengeful to me. Or very desperate. Not even remotely."

He slowly looks down. Again with the goddamn blandest expression of the century, seemingly fixated on a rusted spot on the floor.

Then, to my slight surprise, I watched as his face slowly contorted into....some kind of expression. If you could even call it that. Almost like......haunted. The change was barely there, but I could sense the shift in the air. With his gaze still lowered his hollow voice echoed around the room.

"Dem wird befohlen, der sich nicht selber gehorchen kann."

Huh. Would you look at that. He's full of surprises today. I didn't miss the way his right eye twitched as he said it.

"Didn't know you speak german."

"Only a little."

"Didn't sound 'a little' to me....what do you mean by that?"

"A slave is still a slave. With, or without the owner in sight."

As soon as the moment came, it vanished. He knelt down again and started packing his tools.

"I've got to get going, sir. Lady Beneviento asked for my aid the other day. If you'll be in need of my service, do let me know please."

With that he zipped up his bag, got up, and swiftly turned around. I stood there watching him walk away. Thinking.

A few months ago, he appeared out of nowhere. How he managed to come out of the woods without alerting any lycans, I still can't figure out. Whatever deal he made with the bitch, Miranda ordered us to keep our claws off him for now. She also told us to keep a close eye on him and let her know any findings worth reporting, for whatever reason.......But that wasn't the only weird thing about him.

The asshole creeped me out more than Donna's fucked up puppets, and that was saying something. His face always stayed the exact same except a few rare occasions, and when he does show some kind of reaction, it was even worse than that usual stoneface. His consistent monotonous voice makes me wonder if he had some kind of brain damage. How else could you explain the utter lack of personality? Bet the village idiots couldn't tell him from one of my creations. Some days he didn't even seem alive, just passing through the places, showing up at the most random time of the day. Like 3am in the morning, when I'm still working on the blueprints. Not only that, as soon as he got the job done, you turn your back once and he was gone.

The bastard somehow knew of my plans as well. Yet Miranda's none the wiser.....Then again, he could be looking for opportunities, take his sweet time and use the info to his advantage when I least expect it.

All the whirling thoughts continue to intensify the drumming headache behind my eyes. Last time I've seen him was days ago, our conversation still fresh on my mind, despite all the sleepless nights that followed.

Words and drawings in front of me blur together, and I close my eyes. Go on any longer, and I'd collapse. Break it is.

I plopped down on a metal chair by the table with heavy sigh. No matter how long I spend on these numerous projects, my goal of freedom never quite seemed to be within reach. Each day stuck in this shithole, was another mockery of my effort from those freaks.

As if to wipe away the frustration, I rub my aching eyes. It only makes the stinging worse, but I can't care less. My foggy mind already wanders away to the most recent conversation. About him.

'Dem wird befohlen, der sich nicht selber gehorchen kann.'

"He who cannot obey himself, is commanded," I mutter.

Also sprach Zarathustra. A dusty old book in the corner comes to my mind. One of the few german books Duke had at the moment, before I was fluent in English.

"Of all people........Nietzsche, huh. Klugscheißer."

Fatigued to the bone, yet the chuckle rolls out of my mouth easily. Whatever I was expecting from him, that wasn't it. For a guy that was closer to an inanimate object than a human, he sure had quite a taste in literature.

My fingers twitch, signaling the need for sweet nicotine. Fishing out a cigar from the inner pocket, I feel for a lighter. One floats out from the mess on the shelf. Half way there, it wobbles, so I put my hand out to snatch the falling lighter. Damn. I really am tired. I light the cigar. As the familiar scent fills my nose, I once again think of our talk.

'Those eyes belong to a man who's desperate to break free, because at this rate, it is either you or them.'

The bastard was right. If I had to spend any more of my days in this shitstain of a village, I'd slowly but surely lose my mind, just like my dillusional 'siblings'. There were only two options for me. Tear apart Miranda and get the fuck out, or die trying. Either was desirable. ANYTHING but this.

"Who do you serve, 'hunter'? If that even is your name."

A slave is still a slave, he said. If he really is familiar with how I feel, with the situation that I am in........

Well.

At the time I did not notice. But later, when I returned to the room to check if any platforms need fixing, I found a deep, clearly hand-shaped indent left on one of the railings.

Right where he was leaning, while we had that little chat.

Then I remembered. How he was holding onto the railing as the conversation went on, and how his body seemed to tense as his expression changed.

The metal pole was all bent and twisted, almost pencil-thin in some places, flattened by an incredible force.

If his words did not serve their purpose, that sure did. It was then that I realized, that if I ever were to get a read on him, I have to see how he acts. Action. That was the key.

Just like how he tried to figure me out the other day, I'd make an open book out of him. Whatever scheme he has, it won't stay concealed for long. Who knows, we might even be able to negotiate. Didn't seem like he was all too eager to work for the deranged witch, after all.

Perhaps, we are a lot more alike than I thought.

I blow out the smoke, still deep in contemplation. All things considered, at least one thing was clear.

_________________________

That...that's the end of my first one shot after years of no writing whatsoever. Am dying. Ahhhh. Anyway. Will write more if my schedule gets any loose ;)

Karl you poor ficker you need tHErApY.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #mysterious oc is mysterious #Title Translation: Freiheitskämpfer (freedom fighter) #Klugscheißer (Smartass) #Am not a native nor good at german don't come for me neck #gently point out my crappy german k? #No beta we die like karl's negotiation skill #Miranda (mentioned)

[boop-le-snoot]

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previously on...

Two chapters over the weekend because I was ✨ inspired ✨ and my neighbors can't stop fucking (noisily!) and I'm,,, envious.

Strange adventures in Hell. There are descriptions of desperation and doom, lots of magic and - hear me out - forced/reluctant hand holding 😌 Oh my God, they held hands!!!

"What. Were. You. Thinking?!" Strange was seething, his enormous figure and broader height towered over me, the blood-red of his cape vibrating, the only spleck of colour in the grey and dusty dark world.

"I had no choice in the matter," I replied as calmly as I managed, gritting my teeth, memories of our past stand-off fresh in my mind. We could have bickered until the end, until one of the beasts flying overhead spotted us and decorated the bleary grounds of this forsaken planet with the crimsons of our life blood. "I think it's best if we get to safety first, argue later. I have no desire to become somebody's lunch."

That much was true: I had taken a good look at our surroundings as soon as I recovered from the vacuum-like sensation of being pulled into a magical gateway; the visibility was terrible, the planet's natural light very scarce. Several suns were hardly visible in the sky, their rays barely penetrating the mists and the ashes freely floating in the air.

There was oxygen even if breathing in a full lungful seemed impossible; I tried not to think about the contents of the air, or the possibility of radiation poisoning, as the multiple amulets and charms seared into my skin where they rested under my clothes. I had four bottles of water, some bandages and salves and a sacrifice for a single ritual to my name and absolutely no conviction that Mother Earth would be able to hear the call of an earthling gone so astray.

But it was hope, so I held on.

"Fine," Stephen sighed, suddenly looking tired and weary, glancing around with furrowed brows. "Let's see if I can open a portal," his hands did that complicated set of gestures that I'd grown to associate with a golden circle and sparks on the ground. The thing flickered, once, twice, before disappearing, as if the Sorcerer's magic had run out of batteries. "Yeah, I thought so," he whispered to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"The bad news first, please," I interpreted his hesitation with a realistic outlook on our predicament.

"I can't open a portal just anywhere on this planet. We need to find a... Rift, of sorts," the man was anxiously looking around. "And those things, they'll smell us... Right about now," his eyes shot up at a winged, rapidly approaching shadow. "No good news, I'm afraid."

I allowed myself a small sigh of disappointment, keeping a tight leash on the panic slowly creeping up my body. The feeling of determination, the power of Gaia within me was still present, laying in a cozy dormant ball slightly south of my solar plexus. "Give me your hand, please," I reached out to Stephen only for him to promptly recoil.

"You should've thought about the consequences of your actions, I'm not going to hold your hand because you're scared shitless," his words were sharp but they lacked the venom. He wouldn't, or couldn't, meet my eyes.

"I know you have scarred hands. I'm a healer and you don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed I, I've seen worse," I stated in my best 'mutant nurse' voice as Stephen's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "Those things can't sense me. And I know they won't be able to sense you too if we have skin-to-skin contact. So unless you want me to get under your... Robes," I gestured to the layers upon layers of clothing he had wrapped himself in. I considered the possibility of his whole body being covered in scars, too, and couldn't help the pang of sympathy. "Take one glove off and give me your damn hand before this trip to Jurassic Park goes full pterodactyl massacre!"

I saw the thing in the sky open it's mouth - but no sound came out, the clouds reducing it's outline to a vaguely triangular shadow. There was something very unusual about this planet's atmosphere.

With a couple of jerky movements, Stephen slid off the glove from his left hand, looking away as his large, dry, warm palm encompassed mine in a gentle, trembling grip. It made no sense to interlace our fingers, so I help onto him like a child holds onto their parent; the size difference of our hands and his imposing aura surely made me feel like one.

We stood a foot apart, watching the shadow in the sky begin to circle the place we stood in, it's gaping maw opening again and again, before it zigzagged across the sky with a strong dash of confusion, it's graceful glide becoming a series of rapid turns and twists. With a final inaudible shriek, it flew off into the dusty greys of the horizon, becoming a dark spot far away in mere seconds.

The silence was so loud in this world. Like the eerie stillness of my, undoubtedly haunted, apartment, I was eager to dissipate it with something beyond our combined heavy breathing. "Please don't tell Tony," I timidly gave our touching hands a sway. "He'll never leave it alone."

A chuffing noise coming from above had me whip my head up to see Stephen holding in a puff of nervous laughter; his shoulders dropped slightly as he eyed me in turn. "What makes you think I won't tease you about it?"

"You wouldn't dare," I took mock offense, rising my leaking nose to the skies.

The grumble and the eyeroll I expected, the smirk that faded into a ghost of a smile I did not. "We should go. Usually there is a rift within a few miles of every location everywhere," he tried to keep the content expression as he spoke but the storm in his eyes betrayed his concern. They were so blue, I felt like I was drowning.

I let myself to be tugged in a direction - everything seemed exactly the same, a never-ending ashen wasteland with the occasional dark grey rock that crumbled to dust as soon as the heel of my shoe touched it. My light blue sweater quickly became the colour of rotten wood, a sickly, dull monotone between brown and gray.

The complete lack of any kind of natural noise brought out the desolation of this wretched place; if we gripped each other's hands tighter, neither of us chose to acknowledge it. It was too easy to get lost in your own mind when the surroundings were dead set on rebuking anything that was in any shape or form alive.

I caught myself thinking that this must be what people think Hell should look like.

Strange walked briskly for the most part, periodically clearing his throat and eyeing me when I struggled to keep up with his long strides. It could have been an hour, or maybe two, of aimless wandering and rapidly imploding portals accompanied by Stephen's increasingly overcast face before I made the man stop and offered him a water bottle, which he insisted we split between us two.

It didn't take me a tarot reading to figure out our chances were grim. Needless, I gave him the same look I give to injured, scared mutant children when they come to the bodega for the first time; a look of quiet temperance.

And then we walked, and walked again, as Stephen grew moodier and moodier, marching on with the force of a seasoned soldier, only taking breaks when I forced him to stand still and breathe with me. As cautious and closed-off as he was, I pressed onto the fact of me being a healer of sorts, and he relented if briefly, always reluctant, always seasoned by a great dose of bewilderment.

"Do you feel that?" Stephen's stride halted, both feet firmly planted on the ground.

The ground had tremors had coming from deep within, small shocks that could have been easily missed if not for the complete lack of sound on this world. My nod was mute, I didn't trust my voice not to break when I clearly knew there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, endless fields of nothing all around us.

"Hold onto me," promptly, I was grabbed and pushed into his chest, his long arms easily picking me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. "Hold tight, I might need my hands," my face grew hot as I wound my arms around Stephen's neck, clinging to him like a monkey, a palm resting on the soft fine hairs if his nape. It felt too intimate somehow, in the wake of imminent danger.

The Cape that previously swayed behind him in rhythm with his steps billowed, the red fabric of it tough as it levitated us a few feet above the ground. I felt Stephen tense with each tremor; within moments, the surface shook and stuttered more and more, cracks appearing in between the dust, turning the plains into a marble-patterned patch of darkness.

We rose above it, high enough that I could see the veins resulting from the quake stretch far out into the wasteland, jagged, abrupt lines of even more concentrated darkness. And as quickly as the quake started, it was over, leaving little evidence as the ground settled.

Stephen floated us to a larger patch of the ground, criss-crossed with thinner, less prominent lines, poking the ground with his foot before allowing it to fully bear our weight. He was shaken, there was no doubt. "That was... Something," he stated lowly.

"Mhm," I hummed, fighting the urge to frantically look around, forcing my hand from clutching at his palm like a lifeline. I had decided on a plan while I was busy playing baby koala - not that there were many other options except to wander these god forsaken bare badlands until our painful demise. "Listen, Strange, I'm aware you don't hold my people in particularly high regard but you're going to have to trust me on this," my words came out derisive as I placed his palm on the back of my neck and kneeled, forcing him to do the same behind me.

The contents of my bag greeted me grimly with out last bottle of water and the couple knick-knacks that gathered the black dust on them. I hastily poured the water into a bowl, dipping my fingers in it, and added the crushed bones to the mixture.

The time that was required to make a paste-like mixture, I used to address a bewildered Stephen. "This is a last resort. I don't know if it will work, we're not on Earth," I briefly breathed my distress. "I don't even know how far we are from home. But I refuse to die here, in this grotesque Hell, without putting up a fight and Gaia has always looked out for her flock. I might get very, very sick if this is successful."

The warning had him attempt to object before he cast a long look around us, shoulders sagging, as motioned for me to continue, those piercing blue eyes boring into my face. "Tell me what do I need to do," his voice quietly attempted to soothe my very obvious fear.

I was terrified, both of dying, nameless, faceles in this world full of Nothing; the prospect of withering away after depleting all my resources was, perhaps, equally unappealing, but dying on my home planet sounded better than dying here. "Have faith," I replied curtly, beginning to chant softly under my breath as soon as Stephen's expression hardened.

My eyelids grew heavy, limbs filling with lead and molten lava as I summoned the forces of Mother itself; my body was aching, exhausted by answering her call as it was. The warm ball in my chest that previously comforted me grew, spreading its smelten power through every vein, every vessel. No part of my body was left cold. A sense of purpose filled me, pushing me forward, driving me to move, to run, to leap.

"This way," even to my own ears, my voice sounded pained. It felt as if I was walking through swamp waters, full of clay and debris, each step taking my barely coherent form through an individual bog full of pins and needles. The force of Mother Nature burned inside of me, enraged at the state of her surroundings.

Stephen spoke to me but all I could hear was mumbling, thousands of voices, low and shrill, unintelligible to the human mind. I could feel the sorcerer's pain; the itch and burn in his throat, the constant, dull throb in his scarred, broken hands. His hand in mine only intensified the situation and I fought with his injuries like I fought with the black dots in my eyes, I forced down the unpleasant sensations, setting fire to them, letting the reigns of control on the raging inferno within me slip just the smallest, tiniest bit.

The steps of his long feet stuttered as I felt the discomfort lessen yet I simply towed him along. Time leaked through the cracks in my eyes, which were mostly unseeing anyways. The useless things grew blind at some point, not that I noticed it on the greys and blacks of the surrounding scenery. It was harder to walk, my breathing grew laboured with the extertion as we finally reached the place that felt right.

"Here," I rasped, voice so quiet it could have been mistaken for a breeze. I craved to feel it; the soft puffs of wind, the sound of running water. I had called for Earth and she demanded its child back.

The portal appeared without a stutter even though Stephen's hands shook; I saw the uneven channels, the energies traveling through them at an uneven pace. As soon as I pushed through the wormhole, coming to my senses in an unfamiliar, light room, I fell to my knees.

Stephen's pained moaning told me he was probably experiencing the same stinging, burning sensation on his skin; my eyes, they were the worst - my eyeballs felt like they were melting, leaking out of my sockets into thick, gelatinous tears streaming down my face. I blindly groped for the sorcerer's hand, directing the forces within me to soothe his hurts much like I had done in the wastelands.

"Strange?!" A masculine, shocked voice exclaimed before footsteps crashed into my sensitive ears with the force of an elephant herd. "Oh my God, they're here! Tony, come!"

"Stop fucking screaming," Stephen gasped out as I felt him curl into himself.

"Friday, scan them," I recognised Tony's voice, the tiredness and desperation standing out in it more than it did in the rest of the whispers in the room.

"They appear to be experiencing a sensory overload. I would recommend to engage Peter's Cooldown mode," the mechanical voice replied, barely audible. The noise still grated on my ears after spending... How long were we gone?

"Do it, Fri," Tony's soft footsteps reached us; I smelled the spices of his cologne next to my and Stephen's prone forms. "You gave us a scare there," the tone was admonishing but gentle.

"We were scared shitless ourselves," I attempted to speak, only now noticing how grating my voice sounded. "We were in Hell," I mumbled to myself, slowly removing my hand from Stephen.

"That," he coughed up the word, breathing through his nose before speaking again, his voice sounding much better than mine. "That place was as close as possible to biblical pits I have ever seen," there was shuffling and gentle murmurs as the two men ensured each other of their presence and well-being.

The burning sensations receded back to my core, the embers of the fires dying out, leaving me feeling like deflated beach ball, all shell and no filling. With a groan, I rolled over onto my back right in the middle of the pristine carpet on the floor, forcing my eyes open and breathing through the pain until I could somewhat see the champagne coloured ceiling without black dots obstructing my vision.

Shuffling noises reached my ears as a familiar round face with light red hair came into my line of sight, Wanda's gentle features concerned. "Star, do you need to go to medical?" She eyed me almost suspiciously but the question was earnest.

The idea of a doctor fixing a magical burnout was bizarre to me, as if it ever was that easy; I chortled sardonically. "No, Wanda, there's nothing wrong with me that a doctor would be able to fix," I replied honestly. "I should call Odette."

"I've called, she said to notify her when you return," Sam's voice was gentle as he approached. I could feel him glaring daggers at a rapidly reddening Wanda. "She was the one who said you'll definitely come back," he offered me his hand.

I had to choke down a moan of relief as I grabbed it. The warmth, the life of another human being, the precious gift of a beating pulse under my fingertips was divine. "You should listen to her. She knows her stuff." It was easy, talking to Sam as if he was an old friend. He had one of the most pleasant auras I've seen on a human being.

"I'm a doctor," Stephen suddenly perched up, sounding almost bashful. "And I can aid the healing process," he stated over Tony's disgruntled mumbling. "If you can explain to me how the hell you managed to hold a... an entire sun's worth of energy!" The more he spoke the more bewildered he became, tone growing in pitch, ending the sentence with an exclamation.

"I don't know," I replied with a sigh. The whole indignation in this man, I was not prepared to face. "When I took this up," I gestured vaguely to the burned, bent metal adornments I began to remove off my body. "I thought I was going to get an increase in tips and a better outlook on life. Help my friend with her asthma as much so she wouldn't have to use her inhaler every time she gets suprised or scared," my jewelry hit the floor with a dull clank, piling up into bent silver I wouldn't even be able to cleanse and repurpose.

Sam whistled lowly, poking at a necklace that had twisted on itself, a grotesque spiral of dull ashen grey.

"I certainly didn't think that a bleeding mutant accepting his fate as cannon fodder will call for the Earth itself," my tone grew vicious. Exhaustion was nesting in my bones. "And that Mother Nature would take over my body, pour lava into my veins and bleed recklessness into my thoughts. But here I am, freshly out of Hell and alive and kicking."

A stunned silence was interrupted by Tony's frantic whispering. "You are not leaving my penthouse for the foreseeable future," as the weight of the incident set on him. The knuckles of his hand clutching Stephen's dirty tunic turned white.

"I am," Stephen eyed me with a strange look in his eye, as if he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes then turned to Tony, who'd began rambling, arguing with Stephen. The sorcerer stopped the word vomit with a grim confession. "I'd be dead if not for Starlight. I'd be meat and bone, splattered across a barren, radioactive land in the deepest, darkest pits of the universe."

I felt my face droop in slow-motion. My throat flexed, swallowing a thick lump of filthy mucus, I coughed up, "Ra-radioctive?" As soon as I could work my voice without it squeaking.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins2 @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #im zoomin with a bag full of creepy

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Shining Star | Part Two

[Axl Rose x OC]

Words: 3.1k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of suicide

Tag list: @teller258316 @reigns420 @xpoisonousrosesx @oskea93 @blowinmeupwithherlove @redlipscrystalskies14 @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @sublimeprincesswasteland

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"Pretty as a picture." I say to myself, swiping lipstick across my lips in the bathroom mirror before I click the tube shut and make sure my hair looks good. 

My stomach churns at the thought of seeing Tommy...and Vince. 

I haven't spoken a word to Vince since he got Tami pregnant a year and a half ago, and I haven't spoken to Tommy since he leapt out of my bedroom window after 3 minutes of awkward sex. 

"Do you fuck all of your friends?" My mother's words come back to bite me in the ass as I groan out in frustration. 

The only plus to any of this is that I'll get to hang out with Viv. 

There. Viv. Just focus on Vivian. 

I leave the bathroom and glance around to see if I see any familiar faces. 

Nope. 

I pull the skirt of my dress down a little and rub my lips together, people passing left and right, looking either too drunk to be bothered or too busy. 

"Tansy?" I hear a confused voice and look straight ahead, seeing Vivian by the payphone. 

"Hey!" I reply excitedly, rushing to her as fast as I can, being careful not to trip over my feet adorned in red heels. 

Vivian Sixx—Kinston at that point—had a ballet scholarship to Juilliard, never missed a Sunday church service, and was one of those annoyingly gorgeous girls that genuinely thought they were ugly. She couldn't stand her red hair because she was teased in middle school and called "firecrotch," she hated her freckles and her height because she'd been compared to a giraffe--"tall as shit with brown spots"--and the fact her mom was a batshit crazy Jesus lunatic never helped matters…but that stuff was all in her head because after middle school, guys looked at her differently, Jesus-lover and all. She saw annoying traits, but most people saw legs a mile long, a unique hair color that stood out in the sea of bleach blonde, freckles that framed emerald green eyes, and a heart as kind and beautiful inside as she was on the outside. 

She's always said I was the most gorgeous woman she'd ever met, but she is, to me, the most stunning. 

She didn't have to try to get anybody's attention, she walked in a room and she had it--so much so that Matt Sorum called her "Fire Woman" after The Cult song because he claimed that's the first thing that came to mind when he first saw her walking back stage at his first gig with Guns N' Roses. "She could give me the fucking clap and I'd kiss her feet for it." He told me, his facial expression mimicking someone who'd been struck by lightening twice…

People always looked at her like that but she rarely noticed because she'd be too busy looking up at Nikki with utter hearts in her eyes, but we'll get into that later.

"What are you doing here?" She asks me curiously. 

"Vince called me and wanted me to come." I explain and she raises her brows. 

"Vince?" She asks and I nod. "The same Vince that cheated on you multiple times Freshman year? And your entire relationship?"

"It's been, what, four years?" I ask, in reference to how long it's been since he and I started dating. "Maybe he's grown up a little." I suggest and she just clears her throat, cueing the hollering of an angry girl.

"Fuck you! Piece of shit! Motherfucker!" She shouts, the sound of her hitting Vince gets louder and she stomps down the hall as he follows after her, continuously trying to get her attention by saying "babe" repeatedly. 

"My pants! Babe!" He's fully in sight now as she stomps off...and he's fully naked.

"Fuck you!" She calls back to him, leaving him behind. 

"I fucking love those pants." He whines, disappointed, cupping his dick. 

"Your swimsuit parts are out." Vivian tells him, and he and I make contact over her shoulder, my nerves tensing up anxiously as he looks at me with a grin. 

"Hey, Tans." He says to me, about to come closer but Vivian stops him. 

"Go put some clothes on." She orders to him and he rolls his eyes, turning and walking away, his butt shining as he leaves. "You had sex with that." She reminds me and I frown slightly. 

"Yeah, he hasn't changed a bit has he?" I ask her and she shakes her head a little. 

"He's gotten worse." She states. "Alright, c'mon, let's go see Tommy." She takes my hand and leads me to where he is, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. 

How awkward is this going to be? 

We turn the corner and see him and two other guys standing in their street clothes, and when Tommy sees me, all my nerves dissipate because he completely makes me forget our awkward sex never even happened. 

"Tansy fucking Reilen!" He exclaims excitedly as I walk to him to hug him. 

He leans down to reach my 5'3" height and wraps his arms tightly around me. 

"Hey, Tommy!" I reply, just as happy. 

This is the first time he, Vivian, and I, will be hanging out together...Viv's been having to hangout with us separately because we've been avoiding each other for the most part. I guess we don't have to, anymore. 

He releases me, immediately turning to the ball of teased, jet black hair. 

"This is Nikki," he informs me, "the band's bassist." 

Hazel eyes--nearly green--look down at me behind his hair, traveling down my face, to my chest, down my legs, and back up again, the tiniest, mischievous smirk on his lips, and I raise my brow a tiny bit…

Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Is exactly what Nikki was, and it was all he and I could get ourselves into for years to follow.

"And this is Tansy." Tommy tells Nikki, oblivious to how he's looking at me.

"Nice to meet you." I tell Nikki. 

"Yeah." He replies. 

"And Mick, our guitarist." Tommy says next, nodding to the shorter man who's also got jet black hair. 

"Hi." I say to him. 

He just gives a small smile and mumbles, "hey."

"He's a little quiet but when you get to know him he opens up." Tommy says to me, quietly as Vince reappears with clothes on. "We were about to head to the rainbow," he starts next, his eyes flickering to Viv. "If someone's willing to stay out late." 

"Fine." Vivian doesn't argue, sighing out. 

"Hallelujah. Thank fuckin' God." Vince pipes, sliding his arm around my shoulder, making me roll my eyes. 

The entire time to the Rainbow, Vivian and Nikki are constantly back and forth, tearing each other new assholes and going for each other's throats. I don't know what beef they have with each other but it's brutal and borderline sex fueled. 

Once we get to the bar and grill, I drag Viv to the bathroom with me so I can touch up my makeup. 

"So…" I start, looking in the mirror, "...have you lost your virginity yet?" 

"No." She says it as if she's slightly offended. 

"Oh." 

"Why?" 

"It's just…" I start but quickly decide that it'll just piss her off, probably. "Nothing." 

"Tansy." She sighs, irritated. "What is it?" 

"Nothing. I just thought you and that Nikki guy have messed around." I shrug and she looks like she's seen a ghost. 

"I—ew why would you think that? We haven't." She insists and I hold my hands up in surrender. 

"I'm sorry, I just thought you had." I tell her. 

"What makes you think we have?" 

"There's a tension." The words are framed by a smirk and she widens her eyes. 

"There is not a tension. There is so not a tension." She gets it out without laughing although I can tell she wants to. “We argue. All the time. He thinks I’m a self-righteous prude and I think he’s the spawn of Satan. If there’s a tension, it’s because we hate each other.”

"You don't have to like someone to have sex with them." I inform her, speaking from experience of the guys who've had sex with me without giving a damn, and me having sex with guys I didn't necessarily like just to make them happy. "I really like him for you, though. You get all riled up and firey when he's around." 

"Oh, please." She rolls her eyes. 

“I just met the guy and I can tell he has you acting different. You used to be so quiet and shy around people you don’t really know, now you’re jumping in to conversations just to piss him off and prove him wrong.”

“Because I don’t like him.” She shakes her head. “And he doesn’t like me. That’s where the tension comes from. See? It’s full-circle.”

"Hate-sex is always an option." I suggest. 

"Do not even start." She scolds me, pointing her finger. 

"What? It gets rid of all the aggression and ill feelings." I explain. 

“So does their shows. Did you know they encourage people to get their feelings out during a show so they go home chilled out and not so uptight?” she tells me and I look at her, not even the slightest bit convinced. “And it works.”

“Yeah, until he gets off stage and then you get all hot and bothered.” I reply with a grin. 

“I get hot because he’s Devil-Spawn and the heat from hell radiates off of him and I get bothered because he’s an arrogant idiot.”

“Or you like him and don’t know why you do so you displace your frustration and confusion on to him.” I shoot back. “I was honestly joking about the hate sex okay? I don’t want you to go jump in to bed with him if you don’t want to but you two were fighting like cats and dogs the whole time we were on our way here. I think you should try to let whatever kind of bravery he evokes in you come out in a way that’s not in the form of riled up anger or fiery hatred.” I recommend and she nods a little. “Now, c’mon because I have a slutty blonde waiting.”

That was the night Mötley Crüe was signed to Elektra records by rock-god signing Tom Zutat, who's responsible for record companies grasping ahold of a plethora of leather-patented hair metal douchebags that could make good music and snort their way through long enough power rails of coke that once they reach the end of white powder without flinching, China's on the other side. But you want to know a secret? It was all bullshit. Every person I've met in that rock scene, you know, the ones that despised the term "hair metal" yet teased their hair two feet above their heads and played heavy metal? Yeah, them. Every single one of them had this "I was made for this shit" attitude. 

Some of them nearly put bullets through their head, OD'd, hung themselves, turned their cars on and locked themselves in their garage...even the ones that hadn't purposely tried to take themselves out either almost pushed it too far and died accidentally from too much booze or drugs or vehicle accidents, or did push it too far. 

They weren't made for it. 

Nobody's fucking made for millions of people wanting a piece of them every single night, management running them to their grave for more money, dealers keeping them numb, all their relationships just exploding in their faces, all of their "friends" wanting more and more and more. 

They thought they were made for it because when someone gets a taste of what they decide the universe or God or whoever or whatever destined for them to become, they take it and run with it without reading the fine print. 

They see the fame without the lack of privacy and hangers-on. 

They see the fans without the people who hate their guts and make it known. 

They see the money without the gold diggers. 

They see the excess without the high risk that comes with taking advantage of having everything with the snap of their fingers. 

They see the glutton without the punishment. 

Until they're standing on the railing of the balcony of their Hollywood penthouse, their best friend trying to talk them down while the police are on their way. 

And then of course when they do turn up dead by suicide, people talk their typical, "how awful, they killed themselves in their mansion, surrounded by their expensive furniture, wearing their expensive clothes, with millions—possibly billions—in their bank account, how sad for them, boohoo." 

As someone who's been dirt broke, to the point of getting my water cut off and having to shower at a friend's house, but then growing up to have more money than I knew what to do with aside from blow it on drugs? Money doesn't buy happiness, jerkoffs. It can buy distractions to buffer pain and suffering, sure, but once the high wears off, or that new car loses its luster, or that new house starts to feel fucking empty, all while that wall full of awards and plaques and magazine posters cementing your fame and worth and stake in the industry you sold your soul for just reminds you that you don't even recognize who the hell you are anymore and nothing can change that...you get fucking depressed. Hate to say it. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, that even though you're poor as shit and are depressed as shit that even if you had money and fame you'd still be fucking sad. But I'd rather tell you the truth than sell you the fallacy that me and everybody else I was friends with bought, that landed every single one of us in situations where we felt we had no other way except to just off ourselves all while remembering when we were stupid enough to proudly say: "I was made for this." 

People are made for this like Matthew Trippe replaced Nikki Sixx, which—if you want the truth—is complete bullshit.

“He said we could possibly score a five album deal, Viv, why aren’t you happy about this? I thought you wanted us to get signed?” Tommy asks Vivian as she slings her keys across the guys' shitty living room, pissed beyond measure.

“You just told me you were dropping out of school, Tommy! We are so close to graduating, can’t you just wait?!” 

“No, I can’t! I can’t just wait because what I wanted is happening and I need to focus on the band right now more than ever!” He argues while motioning to Nikki and Vince, who, like me, are being smart and staying near the door incase we need to get out of sight once Vivian and Tommy kill each other.

“Your education should be your main focus, at least until you graduate! You are so close to being done, Tommy, why can’t you just—“

“Because I don’t give a fuck about school, Vivian! What I am passionate about doesn’t require a diploma, and I’m sorry if me dropping out makes you feel like I’m leaving you behind or whatever the fuck you feel, but I’m not sorry for wanting to focus on my main priority!”

“What I’m hearing is that I wasted hours of my time throughout school trying to tutor you and help you all for you to throw it away on the idea of being some hot-shot rockstar with girls and drugs and booze—”

“Oh, my God, you act like you would have had better things to do with that wasted time!” He sounds like he already knows he's gonna lose the argument while Vivian just rolls her jaw. “And it’s not a fucking idea, it’s fucking reality and you’re only mad because you have no control over it!”

“I’m mad because we talked about this and everything we agreed on, everything we promised each other, is absolute void to you now that it’s actually happening!” 

“Shit changes, Viv, people change! What I considered important junior year is completely different than what I consider important now.” He calms down, sighing. 

“We agreed we would both graduate high school and I could either put off college or drop out if I needed to...” she trails off, her voice shaking slightly with oncoming tears, making me feel bad for her. “That was our plan to avoid this from happening. To avoid you leaving me behind.” Now it's crystal clear why she's freaking out over them being offered a record deal. “You considered me important junior year when you came up with that plan. When you promised me you wouldn’t go on to bigger things without me and forget me. And now...” She takes a step back, while Tommy attempts to walk to her. 

“Viv, I didn’t mean it like that.” He tries to tell her. 

“No, you’re right.” she replies, her body shaking a little. “Shit changes.” I raise my brow because I've never heard her curse before. “People change.” She keeps on. “Glad this is happening now, though, so I don’t waste any more time on a completely different page than you, Tommy.” Her voice cracks a little and she grabs her keys quickly.

“Viv—“ Tommy tries to grab her arm as she heads to the door but she snatches away from him. “Fuck you.” she cracks, her voice barely coming out as tears spill over her  lashes. 

Nikki and Vince step aside to let her leave all while I contemplate following her, but if I know Vivian, I know she likes to think about things when she's upset, rather than just talk them out with someone. Which is the only time she likes to be alone. 

She just slams the door on us, and Tommy. 

Most definitely wouldn't be the last time she did that.

"Tommy, are you—"

"—I'm goin' home." He grumbles, grabbing his keys, and me and Nikki and Vince all look at each other. 

"Tommy, you are home?" Nikki reminds him. 

"I'm stayin' with my folks so I can vent to my sister because she's the only one who knows Viv good enough to know she's being fuckin' unreasonable." He states. 

"I barely know her and I can tell you she's unreasonable." Nikki scoffs, earning a glare. "Sorry, man." He mumbles in return. 

"Bye." Tommy says, closing the door behind him. 

"Well...I'm gonna go find a chick to fuck." Vince says, stretching.

"You got one right here." Nikki chuckles looking at me and I raise my brows. 

"Not since I knocked Tami up." Vince reads my mind and I nod. 

"Exactly." I reply. 

"Who?" Nikki asks. 

"Nobody. Don't wait up." He tells us, opening the door and leaving, too, more than likely heading to the strip club down the street. 

"So, like, how old are you?" Nikki asks. 

"Why?" 

He just gets a shit eating grin on his lips. 

#shining star

[littleangel4996]

My Fate Pt 3

Summary: After (Y/n) takes care of Michael,he wakes up in the morning confused as hell and wants answers same as her.

Warning: reader undressing Michael but keeps her eyes on his face, Michael wrapped in a towel, cursing, mentions of virginity.

Michael faints in my lap after he told me who he is. Thank my fucking ancestors that I'm a witch because this man weighs a ton for a skinny.

I use transmutation to teleport to the bathroom and get him clean. This is going to be very difficult for me because how am I supposed to bathe him while he's out ? Again he's heavy.

I'm going to have to wake him a little bit, but he's so peacefully asleep I don't want to wake him up. Let me look up online on how to bathe someone unconscious.

I look it up and nothing except either bathing with him (which I rather avoid) or bathe him in bed (now that's a good idea) or even better, let him sit on the tub while I bathe him so I could avoid getting my clothes wet and not be naked with a stranger. I set the shower for warm temperature. As I wait for the water to be warm I start to take off his jean jacket, yellow dirty shirt and start to unbuckle his khaki pants throwing them in the hamper behind me. The last article is his briefs. Holy crap oh God. I've never seen a actual penis except on a porn website that I accidentally saw when I had to borrow Madison's laptop. I've actually never even done it with a man.

I have to suck it up, I have to suck it up.

I keep saying it like a mantra. I take a deep breath and remove his underpants. I just kept my eyes on him not his “thing”.

-----

This was the hardest task for me than performing the seven wonders.

I had a little strength to help him to the guest room is as he lands perfectly on the bed. I made sure a towel is wrapped around his waist and I finally tuck him in the covers removing the bangs from his face. He looked so much like an angel. The fire alarm goes off in the kitchen as I go downstairs I see smoke coming from the oven. I quickly open up the windows then quickly opened up the oven to be greeted with black smoke in my face. I ran the near drawer to find a rag as I fanned out it out the best I can.

As for the pizza, well there is no point in eating it unless I enjoy burnt pizza then I'm probably crazy.

Instead of a warm meal for dinner I thought a nice (f/f) ice cream was a good way to cool things down after one crazy night. Especially when you just moved in to your new home.  Selene, now soundly asleep in bed while watching a little bit of TV as myself start to go into a deep slumber and deal with the situation tomorrow.

Next this is Michael's POV

Michael's P.O.V

After grandma threw me out and not caring or worrying about where to go. She basically doesn't care if I sleep on a fucking bench. None other less I still love her, maybe if I go to the park for a little bit and then maybe I can return home so we can forgive each other. That happy thought was soon cut off as I was struck by someone's car. I laid  on the ground hurt. I can barely move. The car stops probably going to check on me. The person behind the wheel backs up their vehicle and runs me over again

Again.

Again.

And again.

I wake up gasping for air. I'm back in my old room.

"It was only a dream. Ha it was just a bad dream" I chuckled as I laid back down rubbing my eyes. Or is it my room.  Looked around closely to see that I'm laying in a king size bed, instead of my dresser being white they were mahogany and a flat screen TV ? Where is my video game system and my desk along with my shelf with my other stuff. Well I guess there is a shelf that's stacked with books and bored games.  I decide to climb out of bed and look down at myself with only a towel wrapped around me and surprisingly clean. I remember a girl, the one who hit me in the face.

Could she be the one who cleaned me. Probably that's why I'm naked. I hope she cleaned my clothes, maybe there are clothes in the dresser.

I walked over to the dresser as I open to find it empty. Figures. Okay, as long as I'm wearing the towel around my waist I'll still be covered.

As I come to open the door there she appeared in pink pajamas with mices printed on them and about to reach the knob. It was the girl who cleaned me. Wow, I've never seen anyone that looks so beautiful. Her (h/l) (h/c) so healthy I bet it never has split ends, her skin looks so soft, her (e/c) eyes can hypnotize anyone and...she is holding my clothes.

“Good morning Michael”

“Good morning umm” She hands me my clean clothes.

“(Y/n) (/l/n) but please call me by my first name” she says nervously. “Oh when you are dressed you may come down for breakfast with me and Selene”.

“Selene?” I gave her a questioning look.

“Oh my cat, she's friendly of course. But enough with me talking you must be dressed you won't be naked. okay I'll be gone.” The girl name (y/n) leaves down stairs heading to the kitchen I believe.

(Y/n) P.O.V

I just got done with pancakes and bacon placing them each on the plate. 2 pancakes and 5 strips of bacon. I don't know if he prefers orange juice, milk or coffee. I'll just ask him when he comes down. He may actually fit into my ex-boyfriend's clothes and shoes. I heard the padded footsteps coming from the stairs to see Michael dressed in his old clean clothes.

“Hey, you're just in time for breakfast. Would you like coffee, orange juice or milk “ I've asked him.

“ Umm I've never tried coffee before, how is it ? “ He asked.

“Well to me it's good, would you like to try mine” he nodded his head. I pass him my cup as he takes small sips of mine until he almost drinks the whole thing. I start to giggle and say “ You can keep it, I'll pour myself another cup”.

I take a cup from the cabinet, adding stuff to my coffee and take a seat across from Michael. He looks at me as if he's waiting for me to give him the go ahead to eat.

“ Please, eat. You've been underground for since God knows when.” He doesn't wait for me to tell him twice as he eats like he's never ate before, like literally. I began to eat as well. This is so fucking weird. I've never thought I would be having someone from the grave to eat breakfast with me.

“Hey, Michael. May I ask you some questions?” I asked. He pauses before putting another pancake in his mouth, dropping the fork.

“I as well would like to ask some questions to Ms. (Y/n)” .

“ just (y/n) please” I say to him and he nodded.

For a little bit of awkward silence until I broke it.

“So Michael, if you don't mind me asking what happened to you like how did you die.”

Michael was hesitant at first but he answered.

“ Well first of all, this used to be my home until you moved in. Actually is this year 2015 still” he asked.

“ Wait no, this is 2020. You've been dead for 6 years.” His blue eyes widened, shocked that he been dead for 6 years. Damn Id be in the same position as Michael. Michael explains what happened to him.

“And second off, My grandma and I had a fight and she told me she never wanted me nor see me again then-”

“Oh my god she killed you ?”

“No” he retorted. “But she did left me on road for dead after she told me to go to hell”. Wait what? He tells me his grandmother didn't kill him but left her grandson on the road for dead after telling him to go to hell.

“Did you get a good look at who killed you” he shook his head. “All I know is that a black car hit me. I don't know what kind of car it was, I'm sorry.” He looked like he wanted to cry.

“I probably deserved it, after I killed the animals and the priest I should have stayed dead. I'm a monster” he cried. So the dead animals were his doing...and a priest, what priest? But I'm not the kind of person to judge, a wise woman once  taught me ‘

‘those who judge will never understand and those who understand will never judge.’

I rubbed my hand on top of his as he looked up at me with his teary blue eyes.

“Listen Michael,what you did was in the past. People can change and deserve a second chance” I finished.

“Why do you want to help me” he wipes his tears away.

“I just told you, everyone deserves a second chance in life. Even if you done plenty dirty deeds. You probably have questions for me too, don't  you.” He nodded his head.

I take a deep breath and “ Michael I was the one who brought you back to life. My cat Selene found dead animals from yours and grandmother's backyard and I guess when I brought them back from the dead I also brought you.” He's getting confused, oh dear.

“ Michael what I'm trying to say is that I'm….well... a witch” I admitted. “ And no not like wizard of Oz, Sabrina the teenage witch or any sort. I'm talking from the old age witch. I came from a private school in New Orleans, Louisiana called Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies where young witches are automatically enrolled once their powers have been uncovered.we've been taught the history of our kind on how to practice witchcraft, to discover and control our abilities” I finished. I was waiting for Michael to laugh at me or be scared of me but he crossed his arms cocking his head.

“Prove it”.

“What ?” I tried to replay what he just said but I thought he just told me to prove it to him that I'm a witch.

“It's the only way that I'm going to believe you” he said. I took a big sigh using one of my powers, pyrokinesis. I concentrate on the coffee cup as it boils then flames erupted from the cup making Michael jump out of his chair. Then I transmuted behind him poking his shoulder turning around so fast that he's seen a ghost.

“That-that”

“Michael please relax I'm not going to hurt you” I reassured him.

“Was awesome!” He exclaimed having a smile on his face.

“Wait really, you ain't scared of me” I asked, I'm very shocked because if I show these abilities to normal people then they'll run away screaming monster. Well not really but still

“Not at all, I think you would have killed me again if you were a bad evil witch but you are a good awesome witch” he finishes. Selene rubs up against me as I picked her up, rubbing her face against mine. Michael tries to pet her but Selene immediately hisses at Michael. He steps away from her.

“Selene will get used to you Michael don't take it offensive” I said. Michael tucks both his hands in his pockets and nods.

This is going to be one hell of a strange adventure.

-Now as you can see this was a long ass fucking chapter 😂. But I'm glad I took my time with this chapter and thank you for the people were patient ❤️.

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