#I have faith in the greatness that God has stitched you with - and I believe the divine spark he's given you

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Divinity part ten

TW: religion, cult recruitment, referenced murder, referenced deforestation and pollution, human whumpees, deity whumper

Mary brought Wren to her knitting club, so he could proselytize to the other old women, and maybe whatever grandchildren they occasionally brought along.

She introduced Wren, and gave him everyone else's names. They seemed happy enough to see him, despite the fact that he didn't know how to knit. He never had the dexterity for such things.

"I met a god," Mary said nonchalantly, working on a purple blanket for her soon to be born great-grandchild. "In Wren's basement."

"What kind of a god?" Gloria asked, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about Mary's statement.

"Made all the animals," Mary said. "You know, like Noah."

"Noah didn't make animals," Bella argued, setting down her half-finished scarf out of frustration from a dropped row of stitches. "He put 'em all on a big old boat."

"Vo'ki is the god of animals," Wren interjected, trying to avoid a pointless debate. "Nothing to do with Judaism, I assure you. I'm his high priest."

"He made all the animals?" Gloria asked. "That's impressive. I bet he has pretty big stables."

"The animals roam the earth, except when humans put them in stables. Vo'ki takes care of them. But he can't always control human hunting and deforestation."

Wren was so happy to be believed right off the bat. He may have missed a trick at the library, but now he had three possible devotees paying heed to his every word. If it weren't for his devout faith, he would have thanked God Himself.

"Oh!" Barbara exclaimed. "You're trying to save the forests. I'm glad your generation is finally doing something about the environment. I used to protest nuclear energy, but nobody told me oil was the worse deal. Pushing back against the oil companies will really save the animals."

"I intend to," Wren decided. "During my prayers over the natural world, I received the knowledge of how deeply human destruction of the natural world distressed Vo'ki. He cares far more for animals than he does for people. Honestly, I don't blame him."

"I never liked people either," Bella said. "That's why I have cats. No husband, you hear me? Just cats."

"Husbands are fine," Gloria said. "Not as great as people say. But still fine."

"You say that like you didn't murder yours," Mary said dryly. "Yeah, well, he was sleeping with the lady next door. What else was I supposed to do?"

Wren tried to process the casual admission to murder. Hanging out with older women was always like this, but he still wasn't sure how to react. At least they trusted him not to call the cops.

"I never wanted to get married either," Wren said, trying to get off the topic of murder. "Obviously I'm transgender, so it was hard enough to find anyone who respected that. And I value my privacy a bit too much."

"Oh, my little sister is a transgender," Barbara said, clearly excited to know what Wren was talking about. "But she's got a very pretty wife."

Wren smiled. "How lovely. But now I'm in a union with my patron god."

"Are you and Vo'ki an item then?" Gloria asked.

"Erm, sort of." Wren fidgeted with one of his rings. "The typical union between priests and gods was usually a-romantic. It was more than romance. It was more than friendship. Vo'ki has chosen to pursue me in a way I consider to be romantic, at least by modern standards. But it's far, far more than that."

"I'm happy for you," Gloria said. "I always wish God would talk to me, and here you are with god as your boyfriend."

"I would love to introduce you all to Vo'ki," Wren said cautiously. "And I know he would love to meet all of you."

"Does he really live in your basement?" Bella asked. "Seems a weird spot for a god."

"He lives in the… spirit world. Or something like that. I just set up an altar for him in my basement. So he appears there to accept my offerings."

"Can we meet him tomorrow?" Gloria asked. "I'm going to my grandson's Little League game this afternoon."

"I have a birthday party to go to in the morning," Barbara said. "Let's do it afterward."

"How does three o'clock sound?" Wren asked. "I live in Mary's neighborhood. She has my address."

A murmur of agreement met his ears, and he smiled with satisfaction. At long last, he was serving Vo'ki exactly as he has always deserved. It was only a matter of time until this movement blossomed into a proper religion.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @whumpsday @whumpshaped @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @hearse-song @heavenlyeden @nyoom @suck-my-clit-loser @enbygesserit @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @whumpytine

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Divinity #Whump #Whumpblr #religious whump #cult recruitment #human whumpees #deity whumper #Multiple whumpees #Whump writing #Whump series

[lavenderlegends]

(header by @swiftieblink)

1989 (taylor's version) writing prompts (1 of 2)

(part two here) [i didn't see anyone else do this and was inspired by @kiddbegins] welcome to new york (taylor's version) ♡ everybody here was someone else before ♡ like any great love, it keeps you guessing / like any real love, it's ever-changing blank space (taylor's version) ♡ nice to meet you, where you been? ♡ i could show you incredible things / magic, madness, heaven, sin ♡ oh my god, look at that face / you look like my next mistake ♡ rumors fly / and i know you heard about me ♡ let's be friends / i'm dying to see how this one ends ♡ so it's gonna be forever / or it's gonna go down in flames ♡ got a long list of ex-lovers / they'll tell you i'm insane style (taylor's version) ♡ could end in burnin' flames or paradise ♡ i should just tell you to leave 'cause i know exactly where it leads ♡ you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye / and i got that red lip classic thing that you like ♡ i say, 'i heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl' / he says, 'what you heard is true, but i can't stop thinkin' about you' ♡ and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt out of the woods (taylor's version) ♡ the rest of the world was black and white / but we were screaming in color ♡ are we out of the woods yet / are we in the clear yet ♡ we were built to fall apart / then fall back together ♡ remember when you hit the brakes too soon / twenty stitches in the hospital room

all you had to do was stay (taylor's version) ♡ people like you always want back / the love they gave away ♡ people like me wanna believe you / when you say you've changed ♡ all you had to do was stay ♡ why'd you have to go and lock me out when i let you in? ♡ you ended it / you were all i wanted shake it off (taylor's version) ♡ i go on too many dates / but i can't make them stay ♡ i never miss a beat / i'm lightnin' on my feet ♡ i'm dancin' on my own / i make the moves up as i go ♡ my ex-man brought his new girlfriend i wish you would (taylor's version) ♡ it's 2am in your car / windows down, you pass my street / the memories start ♡ you're thinking that i hate you now / 'cause you still don't know what i never said ♡ i wish you would come back / wish i never hung up the phone like i did ♡ i wish you were right here, right now ♡ wish you knew that i miss you too much to be mad anymore bad blood (taylor's version) ♡ 'cause, baby, now we got bad blood / you know it used to be mad love ♡ you made a really deep cut ♡ did you have to ruin what was shiny? / now it's all rusted ♡ did you think we'd be fine? ♡ still got scars on my back from your knife / so don't think it's in the past ♡ these kinda wounds, they last and they last ♡ time can heal, but this won't ♡ it's so sad to think about the good times wildest dreams (taylor's version) ♡ 'let's get out of this down / drive out of the city, away from the crowds' ♡ say you'll remember me / standing in a nice dress / starin' at the sunset, babe ♡ red lips and rosy cheeks / say you'll see me again / even if it's just in your wildest dreams ♡ 'no one has to know what we do' ♡ nothin' lasts forever / but this is gettin' good now ♡ and when we've had our every last kiss / my last request is ♡ someday, when you leave me / i bet these memories follow you around how you get the girl (taylor's version) ♡ say 'it's been a long six months' / and you were too afraid to tell her what you want ♡ i want you for worse or for better / i would wait forever and ever ♡ remind her how it used to be, yeah / of pictures in frames, of kisses on cheeks ♡ tell her how you must have lost your mind, oh / when you left her all alone and never told her why this love (taylor's version) ♡ clear blue water / high tide came and brought you in ♡ this love came back to me ♡ tossing, turning / struggled through the night with someone new ♡ you showed up just in time part two

#taylor swift #writing prompts #writing #writing ideas #prompts #story prompts #fic prompts #prompt list #1989 tv #1989 taylor's version #my prompts #cat swift posts

[philomelia]

mother's want / daughter's need. their question itches something deep inside of cassie (a child should not center themselves--- when her mother asks for something, cassie must scurry towards it like it is her own demand). she wonders what it is like to be a mother. does your want double or half? do you become more or less? her mother has birthed four daughters. what does that do to your own need? sometimes, her mother was distant enough that every word was mumbled and uncouth. other times, it is like she feels her mother's every breath echoing in her chest. want, halved, then halved, then halved, then halved. cassie, the third daughter, steals the scraps that the others have not yet eaten. cassie is no god. she is not even godly. she prays to no greater being, she takes nothing from the skies. while she is a creature of belief, everything she has vested her faith in stands firmly on earth (but the mother must be something of a god, surely, to make cassie's knees tremble like a scolded child even when she isn't around-- is it something you want? or something your mother wants and has sent for you to fetch?). cassie could trace every stitch in her body and still not know where she ends and her mother begins: the question would take a long time to answer with any sort of truth.

so, she delays. she takes the drink and takes four great sips of it. one, for athena, with her owl - eyes and outrageous laugh, the daughter who has shunned her mother. one for cleo, the little lamb, ready and eager to be slaughtered by every cruel word their mother spits at them. one for clotho, who had spun secret tales out of her own mind when the lights were dim. one for herself: she does not have to have her own wants. " my mother has told me to come retrieve it. that doesn't mean i don't want it, too. don't you think both things can be true? i'm interested in it. i wouldn't have gotten this far if i wasn't. " she studies their face, sun - shaded and handsome, and wonders if she is being believed. fingertips trace the spine of the book, the glorious yellow pages that seem crisp rather than rotting (it is never been so beautiful before: it is like @solstis' presence makes it beautiful). " she -- my mother -- wants to know what you'll give away for it. "

#solstis #𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢. verse one ... o' shrill voiced nightingale!

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

11/5/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription

Matthew 23 and Luke 20-21

Welcome to the Daily Audio bible Chronological I'm China. Today is the fifth day of November. Welcome. So great to be here with you today as we finish out our week together. Today we are in the book of Matthew 23 and Luke, chapter 20 through 21. And we finish out with the English Standard version for this week.

Commentary:

So today in Scripture, Jesus is saying, stay awake at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are going to take place and to stand before the Son of Man.

Prayer:

So let's pray. Father. I thank you for your word, Jesus, I thank you for your words today. And I pray that I feel like everyone in every generation has felt this. This the time when Jesus is coming back. And there's some clues that we can look for in Scripture, and I feel like we can apply them to every single generation, but we see in Scripture that God really only, you know, and so we trust that you are God and we are not. And it's not up to us. We are called to be ready, but we are not called to be in panic or in distress or even in fear. And so if there are any of us who are in fear, God, I pray for Your peace and comfort. God, if there are those of us who maybe are just kind of floating in what we believe and we kind of read Your Word, we kind of go to church or we kind of pray to you sometimes. I pray that today would be the day that we decide to not be luke warm and to make a decision. And as for me in my house, we're going to serve the Lord. And so I pray that the day would be the day of a turnaround. I pray that today would be the day that we say, Lord, I'm claiming you. And Jesus. I'm thankful for your life. I thank you for Your sacrifice, and I'm going to live in that. And that would be a profound ripple effect to where others who maybe are kind of in the faith and maybe they grew up going to church or they grew up around believers but aren't really sure and just trying to do life outside of you. I pray that our lives would be a testimony to them and that you would show us how to minister to those who are lost, who are wandering and maybe anyone who's, I don't know, just kind of floating. God. I thank you that ultimately your sheep know your voice. And I thank you that you go after the lost one and you leave the 99. And so I just pray even for those of us who have family members or friends, loved ones that we know aren't following you, aren't even claiming you, let alone kind of one foot in, and one foot out, that I pray that you would show up miraculously in their lives today. I pray that something would happen today, whether it's a turning point or just another thing for them to really be like, man, something is happening and I don't know what it is, but I'm going to seek after it. I'm going to go and tell this person this crazy story so that they can say, hey, man, I think the Lord is talking to you, or well, let me tell you this story and it really feels like peace and I don't know, god, you just have a really beautiful way of orchestrating and stitching stories together for your glory. And so I pray that we would be a vessel, a willing vessel who comes before our Father and says, Lord, how can we serve you? How can we be a mouthpiece in your story? And that we would wait to hear from you and then go and do as you have said. And so I thank you for your word. I thank you for how you are moving in our hearts. I thank you for this week. And Lord, I just so grateful for all that you are doing here in this community and in our lives. It is in your name we pray. Amen.

Announcements:

Dailyaudio.com is a website that is a place of connection where you can see what is happening here in the community, how to get connected and stay connected. So be sure to check that out. If you have prayer requests and things that you would like to call in and ask for prayer, you can do so at 800-583-2164 and those gets sent in here and played at the end of every day's podcast. That is all for today. I'm China. I love you. I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer Line:

Good morning. DABC family, this is Daphne in Dallas and I'd like to pray particularly for Unashamed of the Gospel in Pennsylvania. I am continuing to pray for you and your wife for a successful pregnancy, full term, no issues, as I know for myself that the Lord is a miracle worker. We went about four years trying to have a baby and it didn't happen. And it seemed in this shortened story that it happened right as my husband all along was completely it turned it over to God. But I found that I had not. But at the end of myself, in the end of trying things, I gave it to God and he blessed us with a son who is now just celebrating his 24th birthday. So I know God is able. So Lord God, I lift up to you, Unashamed of the Gospel in Pennsylvania and his wife. Oh, Lord, you know all about the circumstances and all the heartbreak that they've had along the way, but you are the miracle worker, Lord God. So I just rejoice right now in the blessing that you're going to bring to pass the Lord that their arms may no longer be empty, but be filled with the joy of your blessing, O Lord, of a full term birth, healthy child with no complications along the way, just your goodness, because that's how good you are, Lord. Thank you for allowing us to have a testimonial, Lord, and to have an opportunity to praise you in advance for your goodness. Thank you Lord. Amen. Amen, DABers. Take care.

Hi. My name is Jenna. I'm calling in from Saskatchewan, Canada. I'm just calling in to pray for someone who's having a scan of their baby on November 3. They've had two stillbirths and many miscarriages and this is her twelve week check. Her husband says the father god, I just like to lift up this woman to you, Lord. Lord, I just pray that they're able to have a healthy baby, Lord. Lord, I pray for your work and this I pray for your continued hope and your trust. Lord, it is your will for them to have a baby, so I pray that you would allow them to Jesus name.

Good morning family. This is Tony calling from Suffolk. Today is Monday, October 31. Ashley from Texas, thank you so much for that praise report. Bless God to whom our blessings flow. Yes, thank you for that praise report. Once again, September 14, that is my birthday as well. So that was very exciting to know that baby Genesis was going on my birthday. Once again, thank you for calling and giving that praise report. On the other hand, you guys, it's me standing in the need of prayer. Something I've been holding on to for a while. Me and my husband of 19 years separated on September 27. Yes, of 19 years have been together for 24 years. It's been difficult, but to God be the glory. I've continued to staying on his word and making it day by day. I don't know what God has in store for me nor my husband and this time of season, but I just asked you guys just to keep me in your prayer. I love my husband, but like I said, it's been a lot that we both have been dealing with. And I don't know whether I'm going left or right at times, but yet I still stand on God's word and know that God can do all things but fail. Once again I ask you guys just to keep me and my husband uplifted and prayers. I say again, we separate on September 2019 years of marriage. So I say again, I don't know where God is leading me to right now, but I just still stand on his word. And if it's his will for us to be joined back together will be okay with that. And it's just that we just need a lot of work on ourselves as well as the marriage. Once again, I love you guys. As always. Be encouraged. Know that God can do all things but fail. Once again, I continue to stand on.

[youshi56]

Good Morning:

I wanted to drop these few lines with this reflection from Magi life ministries. The picture of Lilo and Stitch is a reflection of a true confession of believers. We aren’t perfect and often are broken while gathering together with those who seek help from a source greater than ourselves and whom has proven worthy of His promises and His ability to help.

He promises in Psalms 71:20-21

Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once more.

He goes on to tell us in Deuteronomy 30:3

And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpiller, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you.

When you think of what is lost during trials etc. It is usually the sense of peace, sense of security, the sense of trust, perhaps we don’t think of these things that God restores. A person once told me they could see I found peace in religion I in correcting them expressed I have never found peace in religion but in the understanding God lead me to in regards to those things in my path. To understand what I experienced and experience grant the opportunity and opportunities to continue to experience the love of God and His ability for me. The restoring of heart, mind, body, and soul is often what God longs to restore in individuals everything else seem nothing when He restores within us the emotions and feelings that were damaged due to human folly, ignorance, sin and or evil circumstances and situations people faced in their journey.

The last picture is how God feels about family and why He asks us to pray for others, so they might experience the love of God for themselves and the freedom from the things that way them down.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." Philippians 4:6

Patience is a virtue that's often easier said than done, right? But let me tell you about Joseph, the guy from the Bible who can teach us a thing or two about waiting without grumbling. This dude went through some serious stuff but never lost faith. He was sold into slavery by his own brothers, spent years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, and endured all kinds of setbacks.

But through it all, Joseph kept trusting God's plan and stayed patient. And you know what? In the end, God totally blew his mind with how things turned out. Joseph became a powerful leader and was able to help a ton of people because he never gave up on God's timing.

Isaiah 30:18 says, "Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him."

So next time you're frustrated with waiting, just remember Joseph and keep the faith. If he can do it, so can we! Let's trust that God has a greater purpose for our waiting, just like He did for Joseph. After all, if he could hang in there and come out on top, then we can too! Keep the faith and remember that our waiting is not in vain.

I encourage you to maintain your hope and trust while navigating through this season of waiting without getting disheartened. Just as Joseph's perseverance led him to triumph, so too can ours lead us to fulfillment. Let this story inspire us to hold onto our faith in challenging times and believe that what seems like delay is often divine timing at work. Psalm 27:14 says, "Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord."

Prayer for the Day.

Lord, grant me the perseverance to continue faithfully serving you while waiting for the fruition of my prayers. Strengthen my spirit so I may not grow weary but find joy in trusting you wholeheartedly. In Jesus' name. Amen.

[lenandbonten]

Happy Birthday @kittykittyhunter -- an odd spark of creativity got me for your present this year. My friend, I love you. 

#kitana #kittykittyhunter #vocal work #poetry #happy birthday to you :) #I've been working a lot with sound and video and vocal lately - I don't think I've done anything like this for you before #so I hope you like it #(And I hope I remembered the correct verse) #Of course - I'll have to send you something as well - but in celebration of today - have a piece of my heart you can hear #I love you - I'll say it again and again #I have faith in the greatness that God has stitched you with - and I believe the divine spark he's given you #my dove my dear #a crimson soul #the one and only #love across the airwaves #the way home #5-21

[astrolovecosmos]

Neptune: Deep Dive

Pink petals

fallen onto

night shaded

waters.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

Wood turned to metal.

Reality turned to dreams.

-Natasha Reeves 

The planet Neptune I think is most famous for two things - illusions and dreamy or ethereal associations. A lot of negativity is also commonly associated such as addiction, insanity, guilt, sorrow, denial, and doubt. This planet is complex and just like all the other planets has a huge array of associations. What prompted me to do a deep dive in Neptune? Well for one I’ve been going through the transit of Neptune in Pisces crossing over my IC which has been powerful and I am at the end of my progressed Moon in the 12th House. Also in my own chart I’ve been paying more attention to my natal Neptune placements... which are a lot more prominent and worthy of my attention than I’ve understood and noticed in the past. Honestly I spend a lot more time analyzing others’ charts vs. my own, and I really should have looked more closely at some of my own aspects. I have had a LOT of experience with Pisces influences throughout my life, intense ones. I want to make it clear that Pisces DOES NOT = Neptune. I’ve always wanted to write a whole essay about my experience as a Pisces friend, lover, family member, enemy, etc. An outsiders opinion but that isn’t this. This is a disclaimer because this is going to be both theory and my own experiences. This is a deep dive. 

The Sea’s Love and Wrath 

Neptune in a lot of mainstream media is described as gentle but this planet can be unpredictable and harsh, with erratic energy that could rival Uranus. Neptune can be about tolerance and kindness, seeing past the ego and material. Neptune can embody or promote unconditional love and forgiveness. Because Neptune can be about dissolving and merging this planet allows us to see ourselves in others, maybe even in everyone allowing for compassion, empathy, and the ability to love very freely and openly. But the illusion and deception of Neptune is its shadow. 

Romanticizing and idealizing can be one of Neptune’s downfalls. Many times this is described as putting other’s on a pedestal but this can be applied to any area of life from work to places to ideals. From this those with strong Neptune aspects or prominent placements can find that disappointment is a frequent visitor. Neptune square, opposite, or conjunct Venus can quickly fall for others, trust others, and gravitates towards those they want to help or who have a strong personality they can meld with. Neptune opposite or square Mercury may face the frustration and disappointment of frequently being misunderstood or finding that they easily misread others or trust their words. After feeling tricked there can be wrath to these oceanic bodies. 

Where will their vengeance or anger land? It isn’t fair if they idolize you to get mad at you... sometimes their anger is self-loathing and self-destructive, other times they take you down with them. But the lesson is that Neptune can be as soft and as dangerous as the sea. 

Enlightenment and Madness

Coming down from the high, was getting lost in Neptune’s blue. Dreams and visions dancing in the back of my mind, when reality is so hard to chew. Sensation used to distract and pieces of stories stitched together to where nothing is fact.- Natasha Reeves 

There are many influences that can grant us wisdom or enlightenment throughout astrology, but I don’t see too many writings or posts about Neptune and its connection to enlightenment, nirvana, or eurekas and on the flipside also insanity and denial. Neptune can pull away the fog to give us clarity - especially when looking at the whole of things, the big picture. Neptune can famously also be the fog. 

The transit of Neptune crossing over my IC/4th House brought a lot of light to my childhood and how I was raised. However my IC is in Pisces, while Pisces isn’t the same as the planet, and many astrologers believe Neptune is not the ruling planet of Pisces - it is a sign known for illusions, confusion, and vagueness much like Neptune. I came from a place of a lot of secretiveness and vagueness, but when the “planet of illusions” crossed over I found myself accepting the instability and moments I felt lost or clueless in my life as well as looking back with remembering and understanding. 

Neptune can represent the part of us that is hard to grasp and understand, it also faces us with the idea that it is okay to have unanswered questions, to not have closure, that many times we have to create that closure or solidity ourselves. Neptune much like Jupiter is a matter of faith whether in ourselves or a higher power. 

It should be noted Neptune doesn’t always mean outside sources. Neptune is an introverted, intimate actor. It can represent how we lie to ourselves, trick ourselves, or how we push responsibility off of ourselves. Neptune also allows us to see, understand, more importantly feel what we easily ignore or can’t see. 

Life’s Extremes - Our Extremes 

“Neptune moves between the greatest extremes: from the highest spiritual awareness through imagination, fantasy, and illusion, to the depths of deceptions and disillusionment. The planet of mysticism, glamour, and enchantment, Neptune exerts a hypotonic fascination.” - Judy Hall. 

When many think of extremes they probably think Pluto before Neptune. The blue sphere isn’t going to take away the icy orb’s reputation - Pluto holds tightly in terms of extremes, but Neptune is far from a level-headed, consistent influence. Let’s touch on fantasy and illusion - two things that tends to warn of foolishness or impracticality, but fantasy is part of everyone’s life, no matter how pragmatic or mature an individual claims to be. From coping to manifesting to understanding to enjoying, fantasy is a natural human thing. Think of how often you daydream in an hour, how many books, movies, and games you indulge in, how often you find yourself being tempted by gossip, and how often you find yourself painting a picture of another in your head - negative or positive. 

Neptune symbolizes the abstract, importance, and rawness of our fantasies. Individuals with prominent Neptune aspects can find themselves easily tapping into their imagination, falling into escapism frequently, or have a great use for their wild ideas. If you think of the subject of fantasies or illusion as an extreme - it makes sense. You aren’t going to get an interesting story without the gods and monsters. Our sleeping dreams often are filled with strangeness or strong emotions. Clarity to madness, hopeless romantic highs to deeply wounded sorrows, and dissolving/surrendering to becoming whole/complete are common extremes this planet centers around. 

I have Mercury Square Neptune which tends to make one doubtful of their own opinions and intellect, can increase misunderstandings, and make communication difficult for the individual. Mercury Square Neptune can make someone highly persuasive and deceptive but it can also make one easily confused, tricked, and manipulated by others. Rationality and intuition can conflict. One experience I have with this aspect is usually swinging from extremes to being very withdrawn and quiet to interrupting others, chatting away. I’ve been described by those in my life as always saying something they didn’t expect - few words but impactful or strange ones. This is an example of the more everyday way Neptune can present itself.

“Neptune-attuned people possess glamour in the old sense of the word: the ability to bewitch. They are also impossible to categorize or pin down, demonstrating the planet’s elusive quality. Lacking strong boundaries, Neptune-attuned people are susceptible to outside influences.” - Judy Hall. It is from these lack of boundaries and fluidness we see Neptune’s extremeness. Neptune aspects can have us take on the traits of others and there is intensity in that. Let’s say we are talking about a Neptune to Mercury aspect, here may be someone who is easily energized or put down by the mood of another. Neptune to Mars can create a volatile person who fights, guards, and pursues based on their inner circle. 

Alice: Imagination and Dreams 

Personally I tend to associate Alice in Wonderland with Gemini themes. But I’ve seen her used as a metaphor for many placements and influences, such as Scorpio and Pluto. Neptune’s lostness certainly relates to the character and story. Neptune can be the planet of dreams. Challenging aspects to Saturn indicates someone who struggles to get in touch with reality while easy aspects to Saturn indicates someone who can marry big dreams or imagination to practicality. 

Neptune to Moon aspects can indicate powerful dreaming - almost intuitive or helpful in processing stress or trauma. So does Neptune in the 12th, 4th, 8th, and possibly 9th. Neptune in the 2nd can mean imagination or even dreams themselves act as a resource, maybe this is through inspiration or increasing one’s belief or confidence. Neptune in the 3rd may find themselves always remembering their dreams and keeping a journal. Neptune in the 5th blessed with all of the fun dreams of flying or dreaming of a favorite fictional character. Neptune in the 6th or 10th may find strikes of inspiration, knowledge, problem solving, or important foresight in their sleep. Neptune in the 11th may find comfort or realize important information about self and/or society in their dreams. 

Neptune is a newer planet, many times called the visionary, healer, or spiritual link or messenger. Traditional astrologers can approach the planet with a lot of skepticism. Its exaltation is in creative Leo, detriment in practical Virgo, and fall in usually praised as “visionary” Aquarius. Neptune is still new enough to be a hot topic of debate. You will find many astrologers don’t even agree on the planet’s exaltation, fall, and detriment. Leo is considered one of the most creative sign and on the topic of imagination and dreams Neptune can feel amazing in this sign. It feels confident and shinning in its ideas, fantasies, and magic. Elusive and ever-changing Neptune doesn’t feel comfortable in stable and structured Virgo. But Aquarius is an unexpected challenge for Neptune. Aquarius is about collective action - unity that Neptune also is familiar with. But Aquarius is a cold sign and despite its unconventional side can be highly practical and may dislike unrealistic ideas or approaches. Saturn is Aquarius’s co-ruler after all. Neptune wants oneness as in intimacy, not oneness in action or rebellion like Aquarius. Neptune is the magical moonlit spring to heal all your wounds, especially the emotional and spiritual kind. Aquarius is the soul forge in Asgard from Thor: The Dark World or the hypospray in Star Trek. Aquarius is modern medicine most of the time and when Neptune is dressed in Aquarius’s colors at its best it is advanced medicine we don’t understand yet but are working towards. Neptune in Aquarius can be a genius, but it is about ambitious realism to help others, Neptune at its heart is about helping the individual on the most personal level. Aquarius is random strikes of lightning coming from an active mind while Neptune flows from one spot to another, always connected and coming from an original primal, emotional place. Aquarius is the future, Neptune is outside of time. Aquarius is intellect and Neptune emotions and intuition. Aquarius is rebellion, riot, revolution, Neptune is peace or death and rebirth - Aquarius is the noise and Neptune the silence. 

Some believe Neptune’s fall is in Capricorn, which the struggles exist with Capricorn’s strictness and clinging to reality and control. Neptune in Leo is Alice looking regal like a queen or warrior going to fight the jabberwock, Neptune in Virgo can get dark, feeling uncomfortable and maybe in pain, but still important and empowering. Alice in Aquarius or Capricorn is likely a totally new story, adult Alice putting away the tea parties and white rabbits for a lab coat or pantsuit. 

What about Healing and the Spiritual? 

Let’s get to what Neptune may be most known for. That otherworldly connection, the power of love, transcendence. Neptune is dramatic and it is soothing. Neptune embraces all aspects of the human experience so we can focus more on the soul. Neptune is all about healing and how healing can come in a million ways. It can be fast and hard or slow and revealing. It is painful and messy, it goes in cycles, loops, falls and rises. 

Neptune whether the aspects are easy or challenging, whether in a house focused on the self or others, it gives everyone ways to heal and to connect. As an outer planet it gives a lot of insight into generations but in the unique placement of one’s chart it touches us with humanity. 

Pretty speeches, enchanting metaphors, crazy nights, and charming lovers lead us to our doom and a raw poem, crying ourselves to sleep, old medicine, late night graveyard walks, and maybe a rebound help us pick up the pieces. Neptune many times shows us that the unexpected is what tears us down and what lifts us back up. It teaches us nothing is inherently bad like substances, manipulation, honesty, authority, it is how it is used. Neptune shows us that you are the hero to some and the villain to others. 

Regret, shame, guilt, feeling trapped, isolation, addiction, grief, and sorrow are closely linked to Neptune. I believe many times this is due to the healing process or spiritual associations of the planet. These emotions are heavy and life-changing but they are emotions that many times need to be faced with a lot of bravery and work. They are feelings that also help us come to realizations. Neptune is associated with rebirth and if you examine emotions like regret or shame, sometimes rebirth is the only way you can shed those feelings. Neptune’s fluid nature also allows us acceptance, which is needed to deal with such heavy emotions. 

While we always talk about the lack of boundaries as a dangerous or bad thing... and it can be, these lack of boundaries like I mentioned above can allow for a very giving love and empathy, it also allows us to feel or interact with a higher power, magic, and the spiritual. Whatever your beat is - religion, magic, or the belief we are just star stuff, Neptune symbolizes our relationship with it. 

#neptune #planet #astrology #zodiac #learn astrology

[natasha-romanoff-deserved-better]

The Day The Music Died

Summary:

“This’ll be the day that I die,” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told.

Natasha never wanted to hear that song again.

Word Count: 3437

Also on Ao3 here

~~~

Natasha stares at the bandages wrapped tightly around Clint’s left wrist, eyes locked in on the red spots where extra blood had been soaked up by the gauze. Clint’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, softly drumming along to the song playing from the radio as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the old back road.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, snapping Natasha out of her trance. Clint takes his eyes off the road for a second to catch her gaze. “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” It’s not going to change what happened, but he still tries. These types of missions were always hard on Natasha, and it’d only been made that much worse when one of the target’s bodyguards had managed to catch Clint’s forearm with a knife, dangerously close to critical veins. There had been a lot of blood and although Nat was easily able to stitch his skin back together, the close call had scared her - even if she refused to admit it out loud.

“I know you’re fine, idiot. It’s impossible to get rid of you.” She snorts and sends him a small smile. The radio cuts into a commercial, advertising their station and morning talk show before launching into another song.

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Natasha frowns at the song as an alarm bell begins to blare in the back of her head at the notes that drift out of the speakers. She furrows her eyebrows at it, a sinking feeling coming over her. Images from another time threaten to overtake her, and she’s too weak to stop them.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

A blonde little girl, only five years old, prances around the front yard. She’s barefoot and wearing her pink sparkly sundress, hair pulled up into pigtails as she tries to catch a ladybug. Natasha watches from her perch among the tree branches. Mom Melina is kneeled on the ground as she works on the garden in front of the house, planting new flowers to replace the dead ones. She’s brought her portable stereo out, sitting it on the porch and playing at full volume. Natasha isn’t even aware of what song is playing until Yelena is running up to the porch, begging her to play it again. Mom Melina does. And then plays it again with an amused smile and quirked eyebrow when Yelena asks for a third time. Yelena cheers with joy as it starts again and rises to her tip toes as she begins to twirl and dance to the music.

Nobody knows what it is about the song that Yelena likes so much, but she loves it. She constantly asks for it, so much so that Melina loads it onto a cassette tape and keeps it in the car just for her. Natasha doesn’t quite understand what most of the lyrics are talking about, but she decides she doesn’t mind the song for Yelena. In a way, it fits- Yelena is the picture perfect little all american girl, apple pie personified.

Natasha’s frozen in her seat. She pleads with herself to move, to turn off the radio. She doesn’t want to hear this. She knows what verses are coming next, and her breathing catches in her throat as they start. These words hold no comfort for her anymore.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Her sister’s high-pitched voice singing the words, a beat behind as she moves her hands cheerfully, lost in the rhythm of the song. She’s buzzing with excitement- ready for her promised big adventure, too young and oblivious to notice their parent’s anxiety or her sister’s internal crisis happening in the seat next to her. Natasha can’t look at her sister, she doesn’t want her to see the panic she knows is written over her face. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked out the window, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. The red, white, and blue lights that light up the night, the football game where a band plays and people cheer, the abundance of restaurants where families are sat enjoying dinner. The normalness of it all makes her angry - how can all these people be so casual when her world is falling apart at the seams? Yelena begins to sing the verse about dying, and it takes everything within Natasha to not snap at her. She can’t bear to listen to her little sister singing about dying, so blissfully unaware of the possibility of the verse becoming true at any moment now. Natasha should say something to her, tell her to stop, tell her what was happening. But the lure of pretending one last time is too great for her to give away. She doesn’t say anything.

Did you write the book of love

A photo album, thick with pictures of them all sit on the shelf. It’s Natasha’s favorite thing in the house, and she often sneaks out of bed to stare at the photos. Realistically, she knows they’re all fake. But if she tries hard enough, thinks long enough, she swears she can recall the events. Thanksgiving had been fun; the food had been the best she’d ever tasted. Their summer vacation had been at the beach, and she swears she can feel the sun warming her face and the sand between her toes.

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

She and Clint had gone to a church once, as part of an undercover mission. She’d ended up having to walk out in the middle of the service. It had been too much. She could never believe in it, even if she wanted to. No loving God would ever create the horrors she had seen before her 13th birthday or give her a family purely to steal it all away so violently.

Can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Natasha’s feet hit the ground, still en pointe, as she lands the perfect Grand Jete. She tosses her arms out in the landing pose and holds it for a second before excited clapping breaks her concentration. Yelena sits there, smiling wide as possible, clad in her own black leotard and pink tights. She’s in the younger classes, not as advanced as Natasha yet, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Yelena scrambles to her feet, crossing the floor to stand next to her sister.

“Teach me, teach me!”

It’s a complicated step, and Natasha knows she’s not ready for it just yet. She doesn’t want her to get hurt.

“I’ll teach you when you’re older, okay?” Yelena nods, and turns to the mirror, copying Natasha’s arm positions.

Natasha tries to force another breath into her lungs, but it’s harder now, her throat and chest constricted. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to block out the flashbacks that continue to assault her.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that’s not how it used to be.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen goddamn years since Natasha had seen her sister for the last time. She refuses to let herself think of what might have happened to her. It pains her to think of her baby sister, who had once been so full of life, in such a horrid place.

Natasha wraps her arms around herself, arms holding each other tightly. She digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to give herself something else to focus on and ground her. It doesn’t work.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the Levee was dry

Them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And signing this will be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Natasha doesn’t know how long they’ve been stuffed into this shipping container, crowded against a hundred other little girls. They’re all dirty, all starving, all terrified. The scent of sweat and urine threatens to suffocate them, the air hot and heavy.

She has tugged Yelena into her lap, arms protectively crossed over her torso to hold her close- hasn’t let go of her since the second they were put into here for fear of losing her amongst the other girls. She’s so tiny, and Natasha doesn’t trust any of the others.

Yelena stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips. Natasha tries to shush her gently, but it doesn’t work, and her sister keeps squirming. Her cries are starting to grow in volume, and one of the girls next to them sends them a dirty look.

“Yelena, Yelena. I’m here. You’re with me.” It’s the only words of comfort Natasha can offer her. She wishes she could tell her they were okay, that she was safe, that they were going to be fine. Instead, all she can do is assure her that her older sister had her. Yelena had stopped calling out for her mom a while ago, after her calls went unanswered and she finally realized no one was coming to rescue them. Natasha shifts them around, turning her back towards the others and away from prying eyes. Natasha turns Yelena on her lap, so that Yelena is facing her. “Yelena, look at me.”

Yelena shakes her head, so Natasha gently cups both sides of her face, titling her face up so that she has no choice. Yelena doesn’t resist, just locks her tear-filled eyes onto Natasha.

“I’m scared,” Yelena sobs through hitching breaths as her body trembles.

Natasha clutches her tighter and brings her closer, so close their noses are almost touching. “Don’t cry, Lena. Just sing with me.” Yelena frowns at her in confusion, and Natasha starts to sing under her breath, quietly, so that Yelena is forced to quite herself down and focus to hear the words.

She starts with the chorus, the part that Yelena knows and likes the best. “Bye, Bye, Miss American pie,” Natasha sings. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirks up in recognition. Nat pauses, prompting Yelena to sing the next line herself.

Her voice quivers, but she sings it anyways. “Drove my chevy to the levee…” Natasha nods in encouragement and joins her for the next verse. “But the levee was dry.” They sing the next few lines together. They near the last two lines of the chorus though, and this time, Natasha can’t allow her to sister to sing the last line. They hurt too much, they’re too real.

So she interrupts Yelena, skipping forward past the “Day that I die” line and jumping right into the next verse. Yelena doesn’t even question it, just follows her sister’s lead and allows herself to be completely absorbed in the whispered song.

Natasha sings almost the entire song to her sister, doing her best to remember as many lyrics as she could, and then starts over. She keeps singing, over and over again, until her voice starts to crack, and Yelena’s eyes are slipping closed in exhaustion.

“Tasha?” Clint calls, picking up the tension in his partner. She doesn’t respond, just stays frozen in her seat, locked in her own little world. “Hey,” He calls, a bit louder this time. He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her shoulder gently. “Nat. What’s going on?” She’s shaking.

Instead of answering, Natasha claps her hands over her ears and leans forward, bending at the waist so she can rest her head atop her knees. She’s shaking her head, muttering something under her breath.

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

“Teach me, teach me!”

“…When you’re older.”

Natasha never got the chance to teach Yelena that ballet move. She wonders just how many other promises to her baby sister she’s broken.

“I’m going to pull over, Nat, okay?” A male’s voice comes from somewhere close by. His hand moves from her shoulder onto her back, to rub small circles on it.

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

She had never felt so stupid. Standing on that airway strip, holding a gun out in front of her, blocking Yelena. She had let her fall into the lie, childishly believe that maybe, just maybe Dad Alexei loved them like he said he did. As Alexei kneels before them, showing no sympathy to his daughters tears, she realizes that had never been the case.

The chorus starts again, and she feels bile rise in her stomach. “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” Natasha remembers how she had stolen that gun from a solider, shoved her sister behind her and threatened to kill numerous grown men for touching her. How desperately she had clung to Yelena when they’d been ripped apart. She hadn’t been ready to give up her sister, not ready to say goodbye to the American dream lie they had built side by side. “Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the levee was dry” The memory of Yelena’s face during those few days had haunted Natasha’s dreams for years. It had frightened her- even more so than the men with oversized guns. She had never seen her sister, who laughed at everything and loved the world with everything in her, look so despondent. She had tried telling her jokes to pry some kind of smile out of her. It didn't work. “This’ll be the day that I die” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told. That day, when dad Alexei handed them back to Russians soldiers, they had both died. Died only to be remade and ruthlessly forged into something new, nothing more than weapons of mass destruction and trained killers.

There’s cussing to her left that pulls her back halfway to the present. She’s in a car, and she’s covered in vomit that runs down her front and onto her chest and lap. Clint has a hand on her, and he’s telling her just a second, Nat.

“Clint?” She asks, still slightly confused. She can still feel the weight of a smaller body on top of her, feel the soft blonde curls against her chin.

“I’m here, Tasha. Hold on.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time to start again

Countless little girls standing in a straight line, blank expressions, awaiting their next commands. They’re all mirrors of each other, no identity left for any of them to cling onto. Natasha scans over each girl, searching for the blonde waves she knows so well. She can’t find her.

The song drags on as Clint navigates the car off the road, coming to stop. He jumps out and jogs around, flinging Natasha's door open. She doesn’t move, so he reaches in and unbuckles her before slipping his hands into her armpits and pulling her out of the car. She tumbles to the ground, falling onto her knees.

And as I watched him on the stage

My hands clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in hell

Could break that Satan’s spell

Natasha catches Dreykov’s eyes on them, and she tightens her hold on Yelena’s hand. Her sister makes a small noise - she’s going to have bruises with how tight Nat is holding her- but doesn’t pull her hand away. Natasha curls her free hand into a tight fist, ready to swing if need be.

Dreykov says something to the men with guns next to him and points a finger at them. The soldiers start moving forward, and Natasha backtracks, tries to back up but Yelena stumbles at the sudden change in direction.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

Natasha screams her sister's name, gripping onto her as tightly as she can. Soldiers have hands on them both, ripping them away from each other. Dreykov is standing several feet away, a tiny smile on his face. Yelena is shrieking, hands desperately trying to keep her grasp on Natasha with all the strength in her six-year-old frame.

They lose their grip on each other and are dragged apart. Yelena’s voice dies out as they carry away the only thing Natasha had left.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie -

“Turn it off!” Natasha pleads, before promptly vomiting even more onto the ground. Clint’s hands support her head, keeping her from falling. “Off, please. I can’t. Turn it--” Clint’s hands leave her for a second as he scrambles over her, reaching through the open passenger door and slamming the power button on the radio.

Natasha lets out a breath, thankful for the silence. With the song no longer playing, her head is beginning to clear, the painful images retreating somewhere she could lock them away again.

“All done?” Clint asks her. She spits out one last string of bile and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as Clint helps her sit up and lean against his leg. He doesn’t rush her, just allows her to sit and try to regain control of her breathing as he combs his fingers through her hair.

When Natasha can finally think again, she frowns at herself in disgust. “Sorry,” She apologizes.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he tells her. Clint reaches over and opens the backdoor, grabbing his go bag and digging around until his fingers find one of his clean T-shirts. He yanks it out, closes the door. “Can I help you change, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He’s honestly not even sure if she could change herself right now, with how much she was still shaking, but he gives her the choice anyways. She shrugs her shoulders, her way of accepting help without actually having to accept. “Okay, arms up.” Natasha raises her arms, and Clint carefully tugs her shift off her by the collar, making sure the filthy outside never touched any of her skin. He crumples up the shirt into a ball and tucks it in a bag. He bunches up his shirt at the neck hole and slides it over her head before gently guiding her arms through. It takes a lot for his partner to get to this state, and his concern grows with every passing second that goes by and Natasha is still out of it. He fixes the shirt over her torso, making sure she’s completely covered and then sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against the wheel of the car. There’s a soft breeze in the air, the slight chill nipping at their skin a welcome distraction. “C’mere,” he says, and guides Natasha into his side. She tenses for a moment, but then lets her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing Clint to take her weight. He wraps an arm around her to hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeats, and this time Clint doesn’t say anything. He knows she’s not apologizing to him, but someone not in their presence. He doesn’t push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, on her own time. He has guesses though. Clint had an older brother, and he knows what a protective but burnt-out older sibling looks like. He’s seen the way her eyes linger on certain little girls in public before snapping back, caught the way she had once brushed her fingers over a fabric doll with pink hair on a store shelf, heard the way she is able to understand children’s speech without any effort. She’s never mentioned a younger sibling before, but sometimes in her sleep, she mumbles a girl’s name, her hands clenched in fists as if trying to hold on to her.

He presses a kiss to her temple, a silent promise. He won’t push her- He doesn’t need to know exactly what happened. He knows how to support her and how to take care of her when she needs it and for now, that’s enough.

Years later, Natasha will press her forehead to an adult Yelena’s, both panting from the fight, Yelena upside down and laying in the wreckage of the red room. Dreykov is finally dead, by Yelena’s hand. Yelena cracks a joke, and Natasha smiles. They’ll never again be those little girls they once were, but they’ve finally found each other.

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kid natasha romanoff #kid yelena belova #songfic #black widow 2021 #black widow fic #angst #natasha centric #marvel liho #mcu #mcu fanfic #Clint barton #he's here too #look i actually wrote something

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 29: Into the Empty Storm

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You have more questions than answers and are starting to think that maybe there aren't any answers. When you wake up, Chen provides you with some but maybe they aren't what you wanted to hear. You have a crisis of faith- but pick yourself back up. Change is coming.

A/N: Change IS coming, on like... Saturday. That's when the choice is! I'm letting you know now that the choice is a weird mundane choice that will change the story! Also, it's almost my birthday, and all I want is more free time to write y/n and these boys LOL. Hope you are all well. Smooches. (title is from a song called believe in nothing, i steal many titles from song lyrics)

Part 28 Part 30 Chapter Index

Your eyes fluttered open.

Your head was splitting but the stone ceiling was at least familiar.

What happened?

Everything was fuzzy. You tried sit up, but your body was too heavy and your arms too weak. Your fingers were tingling and numb, your muscles sore as if they had gone unused for weeks.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Chen’s voice came from your right, but this was not the infirmary. Your stomach was in knots and your shoulder was stiff. You sat up to greet your friend anyway, but your body objected with pain. “Whoa, whoa, hey slow down!” Chen carefully helped you lay back and then propped your head up a bit higher when you tried to sit up again. You were in your room. You hadn’t recognized it immediately.

You were confused.

“Why?” You choked out and then cleared your throat. Your mouth tasted like you hadn’t talked in just as long as your body hadn’t been used. Chen looked nervous and weary, like she hadn’t slept in just as long. “Why do I feel like this?”

“What exactly do you remember?” Chen hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to remember how you’d gotten there.

That was right. It had been chaos.

“Everything went to hell when I touched the artifacts and…” You knitted your brow and tried to remember. “Oh, god, then Raiden tried to read me and that’s… that’s all I remember.” Your shoulder ached at the memory. There had been nothing else after that. Only pain.

“That was… Y/N, that was three days ago.” Chen braced herself for your panicked response. You stayed silent. Three days? How was that possible? It had felt like both a blink and an eternity of pain and darkness.

“What?” Your stomach dropped and it occurred to you now that there was an IV in your arm. Chen had likely been there the whole time keeping an eye on your vitals and making notes. There was a bedroll on the ground nearby as if to validate your thoughts. Why there? Why weren’t you in the infirmary? You already knew the answer.

You were too dangerous.

Three days was too long to be unconscious.

Your hands were still tingling. That was right. Raiden had shocked you because you had nearly killed Liu Kang and Kung Lao.

“Is Liu okay? Kung Lao?” Whatever had happened to you was less important.

“One thing at a time, Y/N.” Chen tried to urge you to lay back as you tried to sit up, but you shoved her hand away. “Please lay down. You need to take it easy, okay? You had… a little just… don’t panic when I say it, okay?”

“Tell me and then I’ll decide if it warrants panic or not.”

“I don’t want to make you any worse.”

“You not telling me is making it worse.”

“Just try to remember that it’s more complicated than what I’m about to say.”

“Would you just say it already?”

“You had a heart thing.”

You froze. Your ears were suddenly ringing. A heart thing? What kind of heart thing? What did that mean? You let Chen help you lay back down so you could focus on taking calm and deep breaths. Chen was checking your pulse on your wrist and watching you with concerned dark eyes.

A heart thing.

You were young! Healthy! Or at least you had been before those assholes had broken into your dojo and turned your life upside down. This wasn’t fair.

You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath until Chen was shaking your arm to remind you to breathe. You exhaled and your lungs ached in response. They’d been deprived of too much oxygen too many times now. You finally turned back to Chen whose brow was set in a permanent line of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“You said it was more complicated. How?”

“It wasn’t a heart attack. It was a cardiac incident. You don’t… there are no blockages or anything causing it, but…”

“Isn’t it still the same thing? Heart fails?” You didn’t know much about medicine but you’d seen enough bad Korean dramas to know that the two things were similar.

“It’s different, okay? Your heart is strong, Y/N. You’ll recover. It’s just going to take a bit.”

“I am so fucking tired of my fucking body just… fucking betraying me. Fuck. Just… fuck.” You wanted to rub your hand over your face but you felt so weak that you could have screamed in frustration if you had the energy. Instead, you continued to swear beneath your breath. Chen covered her mouth and laughed, her cheeks pink. Really? That made her blush? She could make dick jokes all day long but swear words made her blush? “I can’t seem to catch a fucking break.”

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. I promise.” Chen had a rare moment of seriousness and offered your hand a comforting squeeze.

“I know.” You heaved a sigh and closed your eyes, taking a few deep cleansing breaths. “I know.” You finally calmed and were able to lift your hand enough to rub over the gauze on your shoulder. It was aching. “I just had to get it out of my system.”

“I get it.” Chen pulled your hand away from the gauze. “Careful with that, please. I’m still trying to get that thing under control and understand what it is.”

“It’s the crack from that godforsaken bell Kung Lao and I found in Japan.” You said in a mocking tone that made Chen laugh again. You should have left the damn things where they were. Things had only escalated far beyond your control since you’d gotten back. You’d felt like you’d made progress before then. “Can you help me sit up?”

“I heard that part of the story. We’re trying to figure out what kind of a connection could cause that. Raiden’s still going with curse. Going with god-curse now actually.”

“Oh. Great.” You let Chen help you sit up and then scooted back against the pillows that Chen adjusted for you. You leaned your head back against the cold stone of the wall behind the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken tremendous effort to sit upright but you felt better now that you had. If you hadn’t used your body in three days, it would take some getting used to your muscles being used again. Thankfully, it hadn’t been any longer.

“Yeah, I imagine that can’t mean anything good. He didn’t tell me much more, just that it was important to tend to it and report any changes. I don’t think I was supposed to hear everything that I did.” Chen tended to the mess of medical supplies that she had set on the floor by your desk.

“You’re good at that.”

“Sometimes being a gossip comes in handy, Y/N.”

“You didn’t answer me before. Are Liu and Lao alright?”

“Lao’s fine. Not even a scrape. He’s proud of that.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “Liu needed a few stitches but he’ll heal up in no time. He’s resilient. Doesn’t ever complain. It’s sweet how worried you are for them.” You weren’t sure that you would ever forget the way that his blood had felt splattering on your skin. You’d been the one to hurt him. He’d been trying to save you from yourself and it had backfired. He’d tell you not to feel guilty but you felt guilty, dammit. There was no way around it. They had been so angry with Raiden for pushing you but you had volunteered to do what you did. It was important even if it had been the wrong choice. You hoped they weren’t losing their minds over you being out for so long. If you had been waiting on one of them to wake up then you would have been going completely crazy.

You wanted them to be okay.

“Thank you.” You were grateful that Chen was there to reassure you and take care of your health. You guessed that Chen had probably volunteered since you were considered dangerous.

“Happy to help, Y/N.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “I’m so relieved to see you awake, I can’t begin to tell you how much. And not just because Kung Lao has been here about a hundred times. He keeps asking to come in. How you’re doing. If he could take over for me for a while. I told him that I’d let him know when you were awake and he doesn’t listen.” Chen clicked her tongue in amusement. You rolled your eyes so hard that Chen snorted. Sweet but typical of him. “Liu came by exactly once and I told him the same thing. He took my word for it. So, par for the course with those two.”

“Sounds about right.” You leaned your head back against the wall again and closed your eyes. God, this was a mess. A cardiac thing? God-curse? There was a mark on your body that mimicked the crack in a cursed object. You’d been nearly choked to death by some gross pale demon-man and you’d maimed Liu Kang. Again.

Where was the line?

Would there ever be an end to this?

Guilt.

You were so tired of guilt.

And pain.

You would gladly take the pain for the rest of your life if it meant keeping the people that you cared about safe from whatever this was. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples.

“Don’t get in a funk about this, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t argue with Chen, but you wondered if this ended in your inevitable death. It didn’t feel like things were getting better. They had escalated violently in the last few days. No matter what control you’d had over your arcana, when you lost control? You lost it to a point where it was dangerous to be around you. Was it fair for you to still be there?

You were putting them all in danger.

Was it fair to consider Liu Kang or Kung Lao’s advances when you were such a danger to them? When it suddenly felt unlikely that you would survive this?

It felt particularly cruel to connect with Kung Lao again after years of having thought he was dead. To have him back only for things to wind up like this. And for Liu Kang, a man you had an insane draw to, unlike any you had ever felt. You’d hurt him now so many times. You knew he was strong but how long until you accidentally hurt him beyond repair? Chen took some vials of blood and you felt almost instantly nauseated at the sight of it. You fanned your face and were grateful to find that your body was adjusting to being used again. Chen helped you stretch and stand and get used to your body again before helping you back down and removing the IV.

“Do you know what will make you feel better?”

“Sleep?”

“I mean, yes, but also… getting you crazy drunk and then having one of those boys come over here to take care of you.” Chen made air quotes and you whined in response. You’d almost forgotten that Chen’s brain lived only in the gutter. “You just have to pick your poison. Kung Lao or Liu Kang.”

“I know that you’re joking but I still feel compelled to tell you that’s a bad idea right now.” If you drank right now, then you would wind up a sobbing disaster of a human being wallowing in self-pity. You didn’t need that right now and neither did either of them.

No matter how you tried to push it away, you couldn’t get it out of your head that this was how you died.

It felt very unfair.

“I need to see you smile, Y/N.” Chen’s voice was dripping with concern. She clasped her hand over yours. “Please?”

“I can’t pretend to do that right now, Chen. I’m still processing that three days have gone by. I’m still processing what happened in there and what any of it could mean. This was supposed to give me answers and all I have are more questions and every fuck up is more violent than the last.”

“We’ll get your answers, Y/N. It’ll be okay. Raiden is going to find a way.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t necessarily agree. Raiden was a God. You were sure that if he knew your existence was putting them all in danger then he would do what was necessary to stop that from happening. Not that you thought that he wanted that for you. He would try to help but there was only so much anyone could do. You assumed he saw a picture bigger than just your life.

“Y/N…” Chen looked to you seriously. “I don’t like this.”

“Wow, really? Because I am having a great time.”

“What an unhealthy coping mechanism.”

“Don’t judge me. It’s working.”

“Is it though?” Chen smiled sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I need to get out of bed and get used to my body again.”

“You should rest a bit longer.”

“I’ve been doing nothing but resting for three days, Chen.” You wanted to do something, anything to feel in control of your body. Chen studied you nervously but then offered you a nod. Together you worked your body just enough to help you get used to being awake and moving around. There was so little that you could control that it felt good to have something small. Chen was willing to help you even if she had tried to get you to slow down. You refused and pushed through it. You knew your limits.

You wanted to feel like yourself and break the fog hanging over you.

After some time, Chen forced you to stop and you rested your hand over your sore shoulder. You could feel your heart beating beneath it. Everything hurt but it only made you want to fight harder to get past whatever this was. You wouldn’t let it win. You wouldn’t let that thing win. It had frightened you for a few minutes and, truthfully, it still scared the hell out of you, but the fear no longer crippled you. You were determined to beat it.

You were not going to die because of this.

“What’s this?” Chen pointed to the wilting flower on the desk next to your journal. You thought that you were much like that flower now. An unfortunate parallel, you thought. Chen was cleaning up some of her medical things and putting them into a small bag after rolling up her bed.

“Just a sweet trinket.” You smiled fondly at the flower. It was pretty, even wilting.

“Liu Kang? Seems like something he would do. Finding beauty in things that are even temporary or some nonsense.”

“It does sound like him but it was actually Kung Lao.”

“Is that so?” Chen pulled out the desk chair and sat. “Can’t say that I can picture him giving anyone a flower. And no offense, but I don’t picture you as much of a flower getting kind of girl, either.”

“And exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, then?” You laughed in surprise. Chen perked up when she heard you laugh.

“You seem more like a grand-gesture kind of girl. Not really a material things girl.”

“Nice save, Chen.”

“We’re off topic. The flower. Focus, Y/N.”

“Oh, right.” You picked up the flower, twisting the stem carefully between your thumb and forefinger. It was still hanging on. There was some life left in it. Not much though. “It’s just something from when we were kids. It was the last time I’d seen him. He gave it to me before we said goodbye and then… he died. Well, at least I thought he had died. Still wrapping my brain around that one.” You set the delicate thing on the desk again.

“Yeah, that’s a big thing.”

“Off topic again though. When he returned from his errand for Raiden, he had found me another. I need to press it between the pages of the journal or something.”

“…you are talking about Kung Lao, right?” Chen seemed skeptical.

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculously sweet. I’m having a hard time associating it with him.” Chen looked to the flower suspiciously as if she thought you were making up stories to tease her.

“Well, presumably the original flower was burned up in the fire so… it was nice of him to get me another. Not that he would have known I kept it. I guess it had been as important to him as it was to me.”

“You still had the original one?”

“Yeah. I had pressed it between the pages of my favorite book and got special paper to protect it. I hadn’t opened it in years but I assume it’s been burned to a crisp.” You felt the weight of your truth settling on your shoulders. Your life was gone. This wasn’t some crazy vivid dream that you’d eventually recover from. That life was over. There were moments where you missed the monotony but you were also grateful that it had happened to you and not to someone else. You had never fit in back home. Everyone else had belonged there. This was a better place for you.

“And you’re sure that this was Kung Lao, right?”

“I’m positive.” You laughed. Kung Lao definitely didn’t come off as sweet to most people, you realized. It was kind of adorable that it was just for you.

“You were really hung up on him, huh?”

“That’s a different life now, Chen. I thought he was dead. I cherished the little time we had.” Your ran your fingers through your messy hair. It was getting too long.

“Have you thought about going back? To see what happened?”

“I have,” you answered honestly. “But it’s a bad idea, I think. I killed people that night, Chen. And then there was the fire. They probably think that I’m dead. It’s not wrong to assume that either. Part of me died that day. I’m different. I can’t go back to being that woman and I can’t risk being seen.” You had put distance between the woman you had been and the woman you had become. You’d had to. It had been the only way to cope. “I’ve been nervous to talk about it. I can’t explain why.”

“You should probably ask Kung Lao to explain what happened.”

“Yeah, he just loves having a serious conversation. But you’re right. I’m ready to find out, I think.” Of all the crazy things that had happened in your life that one didn’t seem so crazy anymore. After what had happened in Raiden’s chamber, after maiming Liu, after having a heart thing, you could handle what had happened in your hometown.

“I didn’t quite understand the hang up that you had with Kung Lao. He’s such a… difficult man to get along with when you do what I do. But I suppose that I can see it now, knowing a bit more about the history between you two.” Chen admired the flower. “That’s a deep connection. He’s sweet to you… which I find difficult to believe so you must be special to him. Where with Liu…”

“Chen…” You turned your gaze. “Can we not talk about this right now? I know that you’re trying to make me laugh but I’m… I’m scared and my brain is having a hard time with all of this. Tomorrow, I promise, that all bets are off. You can tease me as much as you want but for right now, I need a break.”

“I get it.” Chen smiled and then got up, sat next to you on the bed, and wrapped her arms around you in a comforting hug. “I really do, Y/N.” She held you for a moment before you finally returned the hug. It felt strange to be hugged but nice. No romantic conflict involved. No stress about what it might mean. Just a hug. Comfort. You sniffled, not realizing that your eyes were misty with tears until then.

After Chen pulled back, you wiped your eyes and cleared your throat.

“This is only because you’re in such a state, Y/N. Trust me. Tomorrow? I’m back to pestering you.” Chen scolded and you smiled. “Besides, I wanted to bring up something more serious before I left anyway.”

“Oh, good. Serious with you never ends well for me.”

“It’s not anything medical. I gave you all the news there was to give for that. But with… everything that’s happened? People are starting to talk about it. I mean, they already were to an extent but more about how… scary it is.” Chen avoided your eyes and you felt a familiar and unpleasant frustration in the pit of your stomach. Gossip. “I just wanted to brace you for it. You might get some looks while you’re out and about. Raiden wouldn’t let me keep you in the infirmary just in case something happened. I’ve never seen him so worried, Y/N. It scared us a little.”

You figured Raiden was worried that you’d hurt someone and there was the confirmation. You had hurt someone. You’d hurt Liu. Three times now. You nodded in understanding. People usually feared what they didn’t understand. You were afraid of it too but you couldn’t exactly hide from what was happening. “I can’t blame him for being concerned. I hurt Liu.”

“Oh, no, Y/N.” Chen seemed surprised by your assumption. “He was worried for you, Y/N. I’m sure that our safety was part of his concern but he thought that a familiar and comforting space might help you. I think he’s worried that the heart thing was his fault.” Chen wiggled her fingers and made a sound to imitate the crack of lightning. You hadn’t considered that. You also hadn’t taken Raiden for the sentimental type. He’d come across as a fatherly man, you supposed, but your father hadn’t been sentimental so your idea of that was skewed. “I just wanted to warn you about the gossip and reassure you that it comes from a place of concern. We really like you, Y/N. You make time for us when many wouldn’t. They’re scared for you but also for themselves.”

“I get that.” You weren’t sure what to say about it. This was all too familiar. You felt so guilty that you weren’t sure how you were going to overcome it. The gossip wouldn’t help, you were sure. Your shoulder ached at the memory. It wasn’t as bad as it had been initially. Chen had briefly showed it to you while changing your bandages. It was literally a crack. “Thanks for the heads up, Chen. You’re always looking out for me.”

“I’m happy to.” Chen sounded nervous and you felt the woman’s gaze flitter from you to the door. “I’m afraid to leave you alone like this. I don’t… I feel like you’re not okay, Y/N.”

“I’m okay, Chen. I promise.” You reassured her. You knew you sounded morose. “I know I don’t sound it, but I’m okay. I’m so grateful that you were here when I woke up. You’re wonderful, even if I give you a hard time about teasing me.”

Chen smiled and offered you another quick hug. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will. I’m going to be fine.” You did your best to sound sincere. You knew that you tended to come off as sarcastic and while you weren’t feeling your best right now, you had to believe that you would be okay. Belief was an incredibly powerful thing, more so than you had ever realized before coming to Raiden’s Temple. “You can go. I promise that I’m okay.”

“I’m trusting you, Y/N. Try and take it slow today. I’ll be in and out to check in on you. I expect you to rest for a few days before going back to the crazy nonsense you’ve been up to.”

“I’ll do my best but I’m not good at sitting and doing nothing. I’m probably going to stretch a bit more before I rest for the night. Maybe take a walk. I promise that I won’t overdo it.” You bowed your head in respectful gratitude. Chen gave you one more hug before leaving you alone. After she left, you meditated and exercised. You needed to be okay.

You would keep fighting until you had nothing left.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #kung lao #liu kang #liu kang x reader #kung lao x reader #fanfic #drabble #fluff #mk movie #arcana #female reader #reader insert #liu kang x you #kung lao x you #drama #romance #fanfiction #ludi lin #max huang #liu kang/you #kung lao/you #the oncoming storm #angst

[whoreofabaddon]

5, 7, and 15 for religious asks?

5) When do you feel closest to your deity/ies?

As I mentioned in the last ask, there is something to be said for the vulnerability and heartbreak that allows the divine to stitch back together what was broken.

However, there’s also a natural fluctuation to my spirituality based on the mundane. This has been one of those things in my life that I can actually anticipate. I’ve not gone a day in my life without feeling love for my god but there are times when that love is a smile, a whispered prayer, and a lit candle on the shrine amidst a busy week. This happens particularly when I am dealing with an anniversary of a stressor or the exhaustion of too many tasks.

There are other times when I feel so awash in love that I want to tear myself apart so it won’t be held in any longer. This is when I am least distracted, when I am least bogged down in my own humanity, and when I am able to focus wholly on Him. There’s even months which I associate with having a greater closeness for the fact of being freed from some more petty thoughts. The fall months are the ones which I find I have the most energy and so, in turn, I am most able to feel that presence fully.

7) If you could change one thing about your faith community, what would it be?

Truthfully, I would make Satanism less accessible. I would keep it wrapped in all of the fearsome and ugly that has kept people from it in the past.

I think that limiting who comes towards it would prevent a great deal of heartache and would create a sincerity in those who seek Him. The ones who came to stand before Him would be only those willing to come through those fires with unquestionable love and deference.

I feel that unfortunately, the fear that came with misinformation led to a strange respect. Although respect born out of fear is hardly ideal, it’s better than a disrespect born out of overfamiliarity. Satanism has become made into a game that children play with for a summer then discard.

I can count on one hand those who’ve come to the community from paganism and stayed for more than three years. There’s meaning to giving oneself to Him and eventually the Devil will always collect. I don’t believe it to be the forgiving sort of faith that tumblr pagans often believe that a religion must be to be valued.

15) Have you ever had a divine experience?

I have actually had several divine experiences but they’re the sort of things that one keeps close to their chest. I’m overly cautious of setting people up to believe that a relationship with a god will lead to anything but a good basis upon which to build up their personal understanding of their values and morals.

Something not too serious to share here, however, is that one of my favorite stories from my childhood could be a wonderful metaphor for my relationship to Satan.

I was helping my mother pick fruit in our orchard when I was very little. I barely remember this other than the fact it was a nice day and I was very happy to be given this task (she has confirmed this memory to be true). Somewhere during the process, I reached into the tree and instead of pulling any fruit from it, pulled a snake out with my bare hand. I didn’t feel an ounce of fear at this snake and it didn’t react with any sort of viciousness.

Clearly I was destined for Satanism…or a good snake handling church.

[adelstan-a]

"my father once told me that respect for truth comes close to being the basis for all morality." from basim

dune prompts.

      athelstan smiles, a small expression that warms his face. the other man does not mention family. the monk is honoured to be told even a needling truth. he does not mind basim's needling, his provoking questions. his blasphemy. the light of his smile is in athelstan's eyes when he asks with genuine affection, "your father was wise, then? as you, basim."

      there is quiet in this corner of the rectory, near the well grown all around with box and blackthorn. the others do not wish to be too near to athelstan—like a bad animal, they tolerate his presence without acknowledging it. his scars remind him of the dangerous potential in their own failures. so, too, do they give basim his berth, even if the bishop welcomes him. they are afraid of him. of his foreignness and his treacherous questions that they are not equipped to answer, every one a trap. as is his tendency, athelstan walks willingly in—plainly submitting to the danger.

      "conflict arrises from what men must agree upon as truth."

      athelstan has his habit in his lap, wearing only his white tunic that is usually beneath it. the hem of the roughspun sack cloth is torn and he is at work mending it with quill and thread borrowed from the storehouse. basim is seated near him. not so near as athelstan would like, if only to be closer to the comforting resonance of the man's voice. it has a pitch like chant. athelstan feels it in his chest when basim speaks.

      "in all great and honest conviction, i know there is a kind of truth. i have seen it, felt it. been under its sway. i have been called to believe strongly even in those who i know lie—because in the passion of their conviction there is truth, even where all else is measurably false. what you describe... is faith, is it not? we know truth through shared trust. trust and faith are active and reactive, subject to change in most, not absolute. so too is respect."

      he is focused on his task but still athelstan's brow knits and his eyes flick errantly upward time and again, seeking basim's face. he is caught by it, longing to indulge, to immerse himself there. there is knowledge behind basim's eyes, knowledge that athelstan wants. it is his great weakness in life, his worst sin outside the fickle tenderness of his in-born heart. so easily moved. so easily broken.

      "then—morality is a kind of faith. we must believe in it, or it has no real power in our lives." the statement has a blasphemy that moves in many directions, enough that it would fluster the bishop badly. but basim is not a man easily flustered. basim goes about, prodding the brothers with his impossible ideas. brothers who, though they have that name, are as a strange to athelstan now as though they were birds and fish all being made to fit in the same confused and unnatural nest.

      "if morality is faith, then the law is its ritual. it is an act of worship. as a monk dedicates his life to the worship of god, a just man worships justice. that would be a comforting thought to those who believe they they act in the right. but—" athelstan knots the thread and draws the tail up to his mouth where he severs it gently between his teeth. the hole in his habit is closed up. taught to mend in the monastery when he was very young, athelstan's stitches are neat, even beautiful. "it allows for men to make idols of themselves and their institutions all the same."

      the monk sets his habit in his lap and looks earnestly into basim's face. he tries to think of basim's father, his mother. those he may have loved, once. those he may have lost. there is something there he cannot name. a feeling like fear or reverence, or perhaps too eager an adoration, rises in athelstan's throat.

      "in god's absence we invent him, basim—such is our loneliness."

#vinduri #ic. #lmao this is so long but #i got caught up in a) the idea of them talking #and b) the idea of normal men with strong #concentrations of isu dna as is the explanation #for jesus in the lore so like—whatever was #going on with that can be going on with #athelstan too because i said so and he #/does/ have visions unlocked by suffering #and he does appear to people in their own #visions taking the role of jesus in canon so

[thunderboltfire]

I lazily colored Iwona’s age chart/looks progression cheatsheet I sketched during lectures. I intended it to be in (almost) flats, but it turned out differently XD

Additional description of her design and character development under the cut! :)

Iwona is a character I’ve had for a LONG time, and she went through several overhauls and minor redesigns. I wanted her to have some FR lore-friendly half-elven characteristics, but I didn’t want her looks to get too outlandish, like, e.g. Jaheira’s portrait from BG2. In the end, Iwona got angled almond-shaped and very much unnaturally blue eyes and diamond-shaped face as her clearly elven trait, while everything else I tried to place in-between a human and an elf. 

Canon height:165cm

Class: Warrior/mage

Strong statistics: Strenght, Dexterity, Intelligence (insanely strong for her bodytype - this is a trait I attribute to her half-divine lineage, her Dex and Int are both quite decent but there are characters who are well above her in these stats)

Weak statistics: Constitution (she has to be packed in a tin can or she’s down in seconds - dual classing with 12 con leaves her with very low HP)

Positive and negative character traits:

Inquisitive / troublemaker,

easily attached, easily involved / difficulty to say when to withhold from action

helpful, polite / difficulty declining an ask for help,

dedicated / headstrong

high self-esteem / easily offended

talented / difficulty learning things that require hard work and she isn’t good at understanding them

Headcannoned age during start of BG1 events: 19 years old (honestly, canon age of Your character seems to be quite unclear - on one hand a lot of people calls them ‘child’ on the other hand, they’re considered valid age for an adventuring team leader, and, in the second game which takes place not-so-much later, Charname possibly acts as a temporary caretaker of the D’Arnise keep, as Nalia is deemed too young. That leaves a lot of room for interpretation. I imagine Iwona to be around 19 yo then - a little old to be called ‘child’ maybe, but considering that she spent her whole life behind closed walls of Candlekeep, she may be quite naive despite her age, which again isn’t very young for medieval standards).

I haven’t found anything about the maturing rate of the FR half-elves, but as Iwona is actually a bhaalspawn, her growth rate could be altered anyway so I just assumed that she grew as fast as a human would.

BG1:

Generally, she started the first game on a low note. Iwona was very attached to Gorion and his sudden death (especially that our charname being an apprentice mage knew just how powerful he was in comparison to her) was a shock. She arrived to Helping Hand Inn with Imoen, distrustful of anyone else she met on the way, and very promptly earned a nasty dagger wound to the face. As it couldn’t be immediately fully healed in magical way, it was stitched and part of the healing process happened naturally, leaving a very prominent scar across her face.

As time went on and Iwona got accustomed to her new way of living and became less centered on her own survival and more daring, her natural curiosity led her and her party towards all sorts of dungeons and secluded locations. Growing in levels, Iwona grew in confidence and armor class - until 3rd chapter she changed the splint mail (ughhh I have no idea how it should look like so I just gave her lamellar armor XD) to plate armor and mostly acted as a supporting archer, walking identification station and spare swordswoman of a party. Somwhere between 4th and 5th chapter she got a Full Plate which became her armor of choice until the end of the 1st game. This, before the return to Candlekeep is also where I place whole plot of Tales of the Northern Storm Coast DLC and Durlag’s Tower.

The last chapters were just awful to her - she took the truth of her lineage in stride because she didn’t have much time to ponder on it - hounded, wanted and crawling through city sewers, it suffice to say she wasn’t very happy when she finally faced Sarevok. 

SoD

On the contrast SoD began with Iwona probably in the best social position she ever had - rather popular, well-rested and rich, of course something must’ve happened to spoil it or it wouldn’t be her life XD.

While she head out against Caelar’s crusade quite eagerly, she quickly lost her heart to the fight - decaying morale and the amount of effort she had to put in the campaign that had less and less meaning to her personally caused exhaustion that was only worsened by her recurring nightmares. The topic of her terrible pedigree comes back, much to Iwona’s discomfort and slowly becomes an axis around which revolves the entire DLC - riuned temple of thr god of murder, then Boareskyr bridge, then the generals scolding her and asking the impossible - if the entire camp wasn’t hearing the sound of her gritting teeth, it was only because she was out in the wild, running errands and clearing the way for the army. The fact that the lords were so quick to consider selling her to Caelar was something that tipped the scales on her alignment moving from Lawful-Aligned Neutral Good towards Chaotic Good. Around mid-game she changes her armor to newly found elven chainmail, as she relies on her magic more and more, shifting in role to supporting spellcaster.

The ending of SoD was literally a punch in the gut. Whole 11th chapter could and should be criticised as it was a plothole-riddled sieve, but the ending was very inspiring moment of character development. In the epilogue Iwona confirms everything she learned throughout chapter 10 - that it’s not enough to fight and bleed if the stakes are rigged against you. She could win a thousand battles for Baldur’s Gate - all it takes is one dubious situation she’ll be decided guilty. If you being a monster is a well known fact, being a monster on a side of good may not be enough. It doesn’t shake her world so hard that it would make her abandon the path of good, but she decides that for the ones like her, institutions of organised justice, duties and honors won’t work like they’re supposed to - so she’d rather stick to her own moral code and avoid great expectations and titles in the future. About the murder case - what terrified her the most was that she genuinely didn’t remember what happened. She clinged to the thought that she isn’t an evil person - that she knows she wouldn’t do something like that - and ultimately that was her line of defense. In the end this turned out to be true, but she still had no hard evidence to support it. She went back to the small group of faithful friends that believed in her innocence - and she intended to stay there, out of the spotlight.

I’ll probably make a second edition with BG2 and ToB once I establish a canon playthrough of both of them in EE.

#something more about Iwona! #Baldur's Gate #Baldur's Gate: Siege of Dragonspear #long post #Iwona the Gorion's Ward #I am very convinced that teenage half-elves can have acne XD #player character #character development #baldur's gate spoilers #siege of dragonspear #siege of dragonspear spoilers #Thunderboltfire's art #it always seems to me that I ramble too much about my characters #and then it turns out I don't actually write almost anything about them #charname #bhaalspawn

[365days365movies]

May 6, 2021: The Martian (2015) (Recap: Part One)

We’re leaving lo-fi sci-fi, people. Kind of.

I mentioned before that films like Her are what I define as “lo-fi sci-fi”, which is a category that I’ve kind of made up. Basically, it’s the science fiction version of low fantasy, meaning it contains science fiction themes contained within an otherwise contemporary setting. In the case of Her, Joaquin Phoenix’s character, along with many others, live in a world and setting basically like ours, but with technology advanced enough to generate AIs (like Siri) that are intelligent enough to actually ascend our reality. Because we live in a society.

You give me Joaquin Phoenix, I’m gonna make a Joker reference; it’s in the contract of my existence. Anyway, that is admittedly kind of broad, right? I mean, that has the capability of crossing over with a BUNCH of sci-fi genres and themes. And, considering that we’ve already seen magic, speculative technology, time travel, monsters, and artificial intelligence, we’ve already touched on quite a bit.

And with science fiction, the sky’s the limit. Literally. So, I think it behooves us to re-examine lo-fi sci-fi a little bit. Specifically, we should note that it can also be defined as an extension of currently existing technologies and possibilities. Writers would call this “speculative sci-fi”, assuming in this case that it’s set within the present or a near and attainable future. Her definitely fits in this category, as does Westworld. But, let’s crossover to another genre by speculating upon another possibility. And it begins with this man. Probably.

Hey, Elon, what’s up? Now, Mr. Musk here is a...controversial figure, for COMPLETELY understandable reasons. Instead of touch upon the man himself, I feel like touching upon one of his recent focuses: space travel. With SpaceX and the various upcoming space trips and journeys that they’re planning, Musk has made it clear that he plans to shoot to the Moon. Again, literally.

In fact, this full plan is to go even further than that, and to fuel potential commercial space flights in the future, which is admittedly very cool. And of course, if you’re going to shoot for the Moon...

Guys...guys, that’s Mars. THAT’S FUCKING MARS

Is that not amazing? We have sound and pictures from FUCKING MARS! THAT’S A DIFFERENT PLANET, GODDAMN IT! It’s cooler than I have the ability to properly express, but it IS goddamn cool. And this means that, easily within my lifetime, we could (and likely will) land on Mars. Which is amazing. God, I really want to see that happen.

And so, landing on Mars is BARELY science fiction, but since we haven’t yet done so...yeah, it’s fictional at the moment. And so, any film about landing on Mars falls within this category. Well...to an extent.

2000′s Mission to Mars, for example, was a Disney-funded film (to my IMMENSE surprise; and it’s based off of an old Disney World ride, WHAT), and a movie that I saw a LOT when I was a kid. I also barely remember it, to be honest. But that film is straight-up science fiction because of, well...aliens. The idea of Martians is, as far as we know it, fictional. And most fiction involving Mars includes these aliens somehow. Whether it’s DC Comics’ entire civilization of Martians, as seen in Justice League, Supergirl, or Young Justice...

...Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s heavily mythologized civilization, as seen in the Barsoom series of novels (and another Disney film)...

...Or one of the best Looney Tunes characters.

Mmm. Yes. Isn’t that lovely?

But, yeah, Mars and aliens go hand-in-hand in our media. So, to properly look at lo-fi science and speculative science fiction in relation to the Red Planet, we’ll need a movie that goes to the planet, and doesn’t touch upon the concept of aliens AT ALL.

Enter...Ridley Scott?

Yeah, the director of Legend, Alien, Thelma and Louise, Blade Runner, Gladiator. Also the director of Kingdom of Heaven, Prometheus, Exodus: Gods and Kings, and...ugh, 1492: Conquest of Paradise. I’ve talked about his mixed record before, in my Recap of Legend right here.

In 2014, he was brought on to adapt a book by Andy Weir called The Martian, which is a great book! I’ve listened to the audio book, and I whole-heartedly recommend doing that. And because of that, I am VERY MUCH looking forward to watching this film, especially seeing as it’s often called one of the best science fiction films made during that year, and was critically acclaimed then and now. It got seven Oscar nominations (although it won none of them), amongst other awards. So, enough navel-gazing, huh? The Martian!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

On Acidalia Plantitia, at the landing site of the Ares III mission, a group of scientists are gathering samples. These scientists are commander and geologist Melissa Lewis (Jessica Chastain), pilot Rick Martinez (Michael Pena), systems operator Beth Johanssen (Kate Mara), surgeon Chris Beck (Sebastian Stan), German chemist Alex Vogel (Aksel Hennie), and overly talkative botanist Mark Watney (Matt Damon). 

The group seems to have a good dynamic, but that dynamic is interrupted by a massive dust storm, which is large enough to cause the entire crew to evacuate. However, in the chaos of the dust storm, Mark is hit by debris and lost in the shuffle. Although Lewis goes back to find him, she can’t get to him before they need to leave, and Mark is believed dead. This is reported (pretty callously) by NASA Director Teddy Sanders (Jeff Daniels) to the press soon afterwards.

But of course, that wouldn’t be much of a movie, now would it? Mark’s alive! And Mark’s alone. With his suit damaged, and low on oxygen, he trudges back to headquarters, which is intact and still contains breathable oxygen. He gets inside, and realizes that he’s been stabbed in the abdomen by some debris. He removes it, and stitches up his own wound. Which is...god, it’s fucking BRUTAL just to think about, nevertheless watch.

Once he’s finished, he records a log for the future, if he doesn’t make it. It’s day 19 of the 31-day mission at this point, and Mark’s basically screwed. He needs lasting oxygen, water, and food, and he might need that for 4 years, when the next manned mission can come to the red planet. Additionally, he has absolutely no way to contact NASA, leaving him completely stranded. Another dust storm rolls in that night, and Mark looks over the belongings of his colleagues, packing them up for their eventual return. It’s somber, to say the least. However, Mark affirms that he’s determined not to die on the planet.

After doing the math, Mark should have enough food to last him for about 300 days, especially if he rations it. Until then, he’ll need to figure out how to grow his own food, on a planet where nothing grows. Which is, of course, going to be a difficult feat to accomplish. But Mark Watney’s a botanist with botany powers, and he’s gonna do it.

It’s day 31, and Mark’s brought in dirt from the outside, and uses the bio-waste from the crew’s stay there for a form of compost. After 5 days, mostly full of him watching Happy Days on TV and trying to farm, he realizes that he needs water, both for himself and for the soil. To do that, he goes chemical and decides to use hydrogen-laden rocket fuel, wood from Martinez’s belongings, and good old-fashioned fire to make water! And since hydrogen + oxygen = water, it should work. With a minor side-effect.

So, yeah, he blew himself up. As as he records a video log, the sound mixing makes itself impressively known by subtly and realistically generating a tinnitus sound. It’s VERY well-done, holy shit. Anyway, he makes a stable fire, and the place is soon covered in condensation, moistening the room and the soil successfully.

We get to day 54, and Mark’s planted leftover potatoes from the crew in order to grow them. And while he’s being mourned at a funeral on Earth, and in NASA, he’s seeing the fruits (or shoots) of his efforts.

Back on Earth, Mars Mission Director Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is trying to convince Director Teddy to let him lobby for another Ares mission, despite the risk of bad press for the callousness of the proximity to Watney’s death. Meanwhile, satellite technician Mindy Park (Mackenzie Davis) looks down at the Ares III site, and realizes that the site has changed visually, meaning that Mark may actually be alive.

Shocked by this, she tells Kapoor, Teddy, and media director Annie Montrose (Kristen Wiig) about this, and they realize the absolute clusterfuck that this whole thing is. They can’t tell the other members of the Ares III crew about it, because it’d devastate them for the 10 months they have to get back to Earth, at the VERY least. They can’t tell the WORLD about this, because they just had a funeral for the guy, and they’d reveal that they left him stranded on Mars accidentally, destroying faith in the Mars Missions Program. And they can’t save Mark, who they’re sure will starve eventually. It’s a mess. And Kapoor also wonders what’s happening to Mark psychologically through all of this.

And yet, they reveal this to the world regardless, causing the clusterfuck reaction that they think it’s going to cause. But Mark’s busy on Mars, figuring out how to get to the site of the next Ares IV mission in 4 years, at the Schiaparelli crater about 50 days travel away. This is a struggle, as his Rover has only so much power and fuel, and he can only get more power by cutting out the heater is risking death by freezing. So, problems. However, he figures out a potential solution: radioactive isotopes! In a move that is, let’s face it, COMPLETELY INSANE, he digs up a radioactive generator from the ship in order to heat the ship.

On Earth, they try to figure out Mark’s moves, as well as how to resupply Ares IV sooner for Mark’s benefit. This is with the director of JPL, Bruce Ng (Benedict Wong), and the flight director of the ship Hermes, Mitch Henderson (Sean Bean), who insists that they tell the Ares II crew. They continue to monitor Mark, and note that he’s been travelling for 17 days in his Rover towards something. Kapoor figures it out, and flies to California.

See, Mark needs a way to contact NASA, and he believes that the way to do so is through Pathfinder, the first probe ever sent to Mars in 1997, lasting for 9 months since landing until they lost contact. Mark digs it up, and the people at JPL in California start their own efforts for contact. And despite communication being extremely rudimentary, initially limited to yes/no questions that use a still-frame camera, it fucking WORKS! WHOO!

To boost this communication hurdle, the two camps figure out a hexadecimal system for communication, allowing them to communicate using a circular table of numbers that represent an alphabet. That allows them to teach Mark to hack into the Rover, allowing it to piggyback off of its broadcast signal and send them messages via keyboard. Nice! Now that communication is reasonably possible, Mark’s able to ask how the crew is handling his death. But upon learning that they haven’t told him. He’s understandably a little goddamn enraged. And so, they FINALLY tell the Ares III crew about this.

The news breaks the crew, even though Mark continues to stress that he’s all right, and that it wasn’t their fault. Meanwhile, Mark’s able to survive for 912 days with his potato plants, and things improve with the help of technicians on Earth. They plan to launch a supply rocket to him in the next year, and things are looking fine! Unless, of course...something goes horribly HORRIBLY wrong.

Well...fuck. Good place to pause for Part Two, then?

#the martian #ridley scott #matt damon #jessica chastain #kristen wiig #jeff daniels #sean bean #michael pena #chiwetel ejiofor #benedict wong #science fiction may #sci-fi may #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #bookstofilm #whatelsecanwedonow

[prose-for-hire]

They say romance is dead

Pairing: Angel x reader; Spike x reader; Faith Lehane x reader [Choose your own ending]

Request: But have you ever seen interactive fics? Where you can choose your ending? Like for example: Spike and Angel trying to woo the same girl. And the end is interactive. Like there's an ending for when you pick Spike and one where you pick Angel. (and maybe one where you don't pick any of them because maybe you're already with someone of your choice?!)

Requested by: @kind-wolf​

Warning: Small sex reference. Swearing.

A/N:  Reader speaks kinda gossip-y on the phone lol. I really hope this is okay - I loved this idea so much, I couldn’t help but make a third option with Faith !! I’d love to do more of these if you have any more requests/scenarios.

There’s a tense change in the middle, if it doesn’t work tell me I’ll rewrite it 💜

You were laying on your bed, the phone to your ear as you thought about the night before. You twirled the cord around your finger as you sighed. You felt as if you were living inside some kind of work of fiction. You had two vampires seemingly interested in you and you had no idea how to even sort through your thoughts let alone think about making a choice of one over the other.

One was named Spike, he was a punk inspired vampire with the body of a Greek God. The man was hot and he definitely knew about it. He was fierce but had a soft side he wasn’t ashamed to present to you. The other, Angel. Angel by name and occasionally by nature so long as you caught him on an ensouled day. He was tall, dark and incredibly biteable despite him being the vampire in the equation. He wasn’t a man of many words, but those few words had been surprisingly sweet when directed towards you. Both were incredibly attractive and both had an intriguing and ultimately tragic backstory that you would be lying if you said hadn’t intrigued you.

“Hey, I’m not judgin’, it’s your life y’know?” your good friend Faith confirmed from the other end of the phone, trying her best to comfort you the way she knew how. She wasn’t really used to in-depth phone calls like this one with friends, but she couldn’t help admit she enjoyed having someone that could vent to her and would listen if she needed to talk as well.

She asked you to explain everything that had happened, so she could help you weigh up the pros and cons. You knew what her advice would be, to get under them both and judge for yourself. But you decided to talk through it anyway, for your own peace of mind.

“It all started a few months ago…

I was spending time with Spike, he had been so kind to me. He found me alone and offered to get us some drinks. He said he had some kind of discount. He was so soft with me, I couldn’t believe it was him.

We had such a great time, he was asking about me as if he really cared. He looks at me like I’m the whole world sometimes. And he spoke so beautifully. So emotionally about his past, it was as if he trusted me in a way he hadn’t with anyone else. I’ve not stopped thinking about it since.

Then the next night I had bumped into Angel, he offered to walk me home. He seemed to really care that I got home safe. We got talking and I invited him inside, he seemed so pleased that I had. I couldn’t help smiling – my face was aching after he told me a story about a demon he had to defeat. He’s a good story-teller. It had me in stitches – but not as many stitches as the demon probably needed.

He told me he liked spending time with me. That when we were together he forgot about his troubles. He forgot about his past. That it was just us.

 I had been spending so much time with each of them I hadn’t realised how close I was to them both. They have both been making sure I’m safe after dark and being so much more physically affectionate.

Ever since then, Spike has been really protective. We fell asleep cuddled up in his crypt watching old re-runs of soaps. He’s always so attentive and sweet and I don’t know what I’d do without him in my life.

 And Angel? He gives the best hugs. I swear he kissed my forehead one time and I swear I could have melted. He’s always there for me, the other night we just stayed in all night enjoying each other’s company. I was leaning against him and he read aloud to me. It was so cosy.

 Anyway, it all got a bit awkward last night. I was at that bar – you know the one. I came across the both of them and I didn’t realise they were arguing until I made my way towards them. They looked like they were about to fight there on the dancefloor but there is a strict no-violence policy in there so they managed to stop themselves. It was that, or they sensed me coming. The closer I got, I realise they’re arguing about me! I know, crazy right?

So, I split them up - they tried to swing at each other. It was awful to see them fight ‘cause I care for them both so much I just don’t know in what way. But they wouldn’t stop squabbling with each other until I shouted at them to stop. There was this horrible silence and then they looked me dead in the eye and asked me to choose!”

You finished your explanation, intaking a large breath – you hadn’t realised you had been speaking without breathing with such pace. Faith had been listening and shaking her head at your tendency to romanticise things like this but didn’t comment. She was trying her best to assume the role of supportive friend.

“Shit. What’re you gonna do?”

“I don’t know… why is everything so difficult?” You sigh, thinking of them both earlier. You were incredibly fond of both of them, but you felt caught in the middle.

“They say romance is dead, y/n/n” Faith stated, opting not to give you any solid advice.

“Yeah, but nobody ever warned me it was fucking undead” You muttered and she snorted with laughter, unable to give you any further advice other than the inevitable ‘try before you buy’ line she had sworn by since you had gotten to know her.

She had told you to bring the lucky suitor to her house-warming party if you managed to decide by then. If not, she assured you she would have a selection of eligible party guests for you to choose from. Faith had recently moved into somewhere more permanent right around the corner from where you lived.

Spike:

It had been a few days of reflection and you found one man, well vampire, stuck in your mind. You missed his touch, his comfort and reassurance. Just as you were thinking of him you saw him. He was looking around before skulking down a darkened alleyway. You squinted, following him and trying not to make too much noise to spook him. He listened and stopped abruptly and your eyes widened as you copied him.

“Bloody hell, pet, you ever actually heard of stealth or what?” he said, still facing away from you but he knew exactly who you were. He could only hope to bump into you after everything. He had been fearful he had pushed you away by giving you an ultimatum.

As you walked over to him and your heart skipped a beat. You saw his face, a smug smile playing on his lips that it was him you had seen and chosen to follow. He had seen Angel brooding extra hard the past few days and knew you hadn’t spoken to him.

“Sorry I just saw you and I... well, I needed to see you” 

“Always got the time for you, love. You know that...”

He moved his hand, tucking a stray strand of hair back as his gaze bore into yours. You moved further into his touch, the feeling better than anything you had ever experienced. His touch was magic. If his heart could beat, he was sure that you would be able to hear it. He couldn’t face another day without you - he had to say something. 

“I love you, Y/n, I’ll never bloody stop. Not until my body turns to ash and dust and some poor bugger on minimum wage sorts my remains into the trash”

“And I love you too. I’ve never been so sure of anything. I would choose you every time”

He scooped you up without warning but your legs were quickly wrapping around his waist. He pressed you between his body and the wall of the alleyway, not leaving any space between you. It didn’t matter where you were, this memory would be long since remembered. The kiss was sensual, slow and filled with passion threatening to pour over. 

Your breath caught and he allowed you time to breath as he pressed meaningful kisses along your jawline. His eyes had been closed, his feelings were running through you as if they were your own with every touch. His lips worshipped you, he had you pressed against the wall whilst he supported with with one hand and stroked your side with the other. His strong hold making you feel so safe.  You were his. He couldn’t believe it, he finally had you all to himself.

 “You wanna... go to a party with me?” you mumbled, your mind still spinning as you asked between your deep breathing. He didn’t miss a beat, just looked at you as if you had suggested something ridiculous like he walk into the sun. 

“Fat bloody chance, love. I want you all to myself” He whispered in your ear, leaving you grinning as he hoisted you over his shoulder and stalked off to find you somewhere more private where he could treasure you properly.

Angel:

It had been a couple of days since the incident between Angel and Spike. It was after dark and you were walking around aimlessly, trying to clear your thoughts. You were walking slowly down the street, someone on your mind that you weren’t even conscious about until you heard his voice. Somehow, you had found yourself outside of his house.

“Y/n?” a voice asked. You closed your eyes, the rich tone of his voice drawing you in. You knew in this moment exactly where your heart belonged.

You slowly turned around, looking directly into his soul. A soul that you were sure was bound to yours in some abstract way. You loved him, how could you not see this until now? None of the squabbling with Spike mattered. All you wanted was him. You would drop everything if it meant you could be his.

“Hey Angel” you tried to be casual, but your voice faltered slightly. There was something so intimate about his gaze. You walked towards him and he rested a hand on your arm. A comforting gesture – he was so used to being in contact with you. He loved how warm you were, your body heat comforting to him. He liked how alive you were, how you never once judged him.

He looked you in the eyes, trying to sift through his feelings. His thoughts. He looked as if he wanted to say something and you nodded softly, resting your hand over his in encouragement.

“Why am I so nervous? I’ve done this a million times…” He saw your horrified face at his apparent “Okay, twice” he admitted quickly, putting his hands up in surrender. You smiled at him and he quickly mirrored your expression. e He

He loved your smile, he could spend hours just enjoying how it lit up your face. He was gazing softly, before looking down at the ground. He had been ashamed of the way he had joined Spike in giving you an ultimatum.

You moved and pulled him into you, his lips now on yours. 

“I thought after the other night…”

“Don’t ruin it now with your big mouth” You smiled, teasing him lightly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting possessively on you.

“I love you, y/n. D’you know that?”

“You may have hinted it slightly” You laughed and he smiled more as you replied, “I love you too… I’ve never felt anything so much” you smiled as he scooped you up into a close embrace. He opened the door to his place and invited you in. He had been frowning, as if in deep thought as you both entered.

“You know what this means? I beat Spike!” He exclaimed, apparently not quite reading the moment. But you could tell that he was only joking.

“Don’t ruin it!” you warned, not able to stop giggling at his boyish boasting. You roll your eyes but he just presses his lips against yours again, hoping to make you forget about his earlier comment. His hand cupping your face 

His hand pulled you flush to him, your kiss deepening his lips demanding and earnest at the same time. He made you dizzy as he sat and pulled you onto his lap. His kisses told you of his love as if you needed any further confirmation. His lips explored you slowly, cherishing everywhere they brushed against your skin.

“Do you want to come to a party with me?” You asked, grinning wide as you already knew his answer. His face lit up in a way you had never seen before as he pulled you to rest on top of him. He hugged you to him as you leaned into him, smiling as he thought about showing you off to Faith’s party guests.

Faith:

It had been a few days since the call. You walked out into the sun, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation on your face before you carried on with your day. It was in this moment that made you realise there was something that you wanted way more than fangs and a bad back from sleeping in mausoleums. You wanted something real. Not something that could easily be torn away from you in a movie-style showdown between two competing vampires with loosely defined morals.

There was one person you spoke to about everything. Confided in over anyone else. It was her. Faith. How did you not see this sooner? Neither Spike or Angel meant anything compared to her. You felt lighter after this revelation, as if you were walking on air. Sometimes fate worked in funny ways, like the sun’s rays bringing you epiphanies of romance-novel proportions.

You were running a little late, but you wanted to dress nice for her party. You knocked on the door, the anticipation already killing you. The door swung open and there she was.

 “Faith?”

“Where’ve you been, y/n/n? You know the fun only starts when you’re around” She grinned, ruffling your hair before starting to turn away. You couldn’t see, but she had closed her eyes, savouring the moment. She had expected you to bring one of the vampires that had been trailing after you so eagerly lately. She was pleased that it appeared to just be you but it didn’t mean she was any closer to revealing the way she felt.

She struggled to articulate her feelings, but she had them for you. In the biggest way. She had been waiting for you to show, the only guest she was bothered if they turned up or not.

“Drink?” She offered, your drink already made. She really was waiting for you to arrive and it was your favourite too. You sipped on it happily.

“Thanks – what would I do without you sweetie?”

She almost winced at the affectionate term. She enjoyed you referring to her that way, you had since you had started to become close. She had teased you at first, pretending she didn’t love it. But she did.

“So, did ya manage to choose?” She asked, almost hesitantly. You nodded and she did wince this time, not able to catch your eye anymore. She knew this day was coming, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be too soon.

You nodded and her eyes widened. Her eyes dropping to the floor. This was going to hurt her, she could feel the jealousy curling around her stomach and up into her chest. She felt as if she was drowning from the inside out as she waited with bated breath for your answer, as if hearing which guy you chose would make the rejection any easier. She had so many feelings for you she just wanted to scream them out loud, pull you to her and show you that she was the best one to take care of you.

“I’m pretty sure I love you” you stated, leaving her head spinning and her heart beating dangerously fast against her ribcage. Her eyes whipped up, widening in shock that you took for horror, “I-I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to say it. It’s you. It’s only ever going to be you that I choose” You continued softly.

“Come here” she murmured, pulling you against her in the middle of her new living room. The group of party-goers cheered as your lips met hers, your hands tangling in her hair as you tasted love for the first time, her lips were soft and pressing desperately against yours. Your lips parted for her, her tongue entering your mouth slow but wanting. She held you to her, her hands propelling you closer to her.

She had been waiting a long time for this moment, “I love you too” she whispered against your lips before grabbing your hand and gesturing that she wanted to show you her new bedroom.

#Spike btvs #Angel btvs #Faith lehane #Spike x reader #Angel x reader #spike imagine #faith lehane x reader #Faith lehane imagine #Angel imagine #btvs #ats #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #angel the series #Angel btvs imagine #btvs x reader #ats x reader #btvs imagine #interactive fic #choose your own ending #gender neutral #gender not mentioned #gender neutral reader

[angelfishofthelord]

good tidings of great joy

“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.” --Luke 2:10, KJV 

--A Christmas SPN fic--

Angels from the realm of glory

Wing your flight o’er all the earth

There’s very little glory remaining, either above or below. The absence has become a part of you, aching between the bone and marrow of this vessel. You walk this earth on feet strapped in the confines of shoes, with back bent carrying the remains of extinguished brilliance. Few can tell the difference between you and any of the other burdened mortals crossing the sidewalk; the aurora that used to halo you is less than a dull sheen.

You don’t mind the invisibility; the seamless stitches that hide you allow you to move unnoticed among humanity, like the air between the falling snowflakes. Humans have always been terrified of your kind anyways. Fear not is the most repeated command in the Bible. It appears 365 times; one sixth of those times is spoken by an angel.

Angels we have heard on high

Sweetly singing o’er the plains

The sweetness was never there in the first place, but you stop to listen to sidewalk carolers singing the lie, their upturned faces flushed with cold and joy. Humans have always written their own narratives about angels, from inventing their own version of your powers to restructuring your appearance and mannerisms. The fairy tales that shroud your essence would do well to remain instead of the nightmare of the truth.

You weren’t part of the flight who first appeared to the shepherds, but you’ve heard the story passed from battalion to battalion. How they were only half-shielded by the night to dim the inferno of their forms; how burnt wool and charred grass had the shepherds crying out in voiceless fear, had the captain begging for them not to be afraid. As if the human heart could anymore contain the palpitations towards the unknown than the heavens could not thunder in its every breath.

One caroler offers you a candy cane and you hesitate to take it.

“I have nothing to give you,” you inform the young woman. Receiving requires something like in kind, this you know. Nothing is free; a cost lies behind every extended hand or smile or place to belong.

“You don’t need to,” she beams. Snowflakes gather around her, glittering in her wool cap. “It’s Christmas.”

The shepherds ran to the village to spread the news, but not out of belief in the lore of a savior. They took one look at the distortion of celestial bodies and immediately vowed to spend their lives in devotion to whatever command was given in exchange for having their lives spared. Their declaration was one of warning, their faith born of terror.

“I can give it to my son,” you say finally. If you are not claiming it for yourself then perhaps the price can be waived.

She gives you two candy canes “so you can enjoy them together.”

  The angels knew what was to come

The reason God had sent his son

They knew that it was a test to humanity, to determine how to proceed with future involvement judging by mankind’s reaction to him. You don’t know which archangel came up with the plan; you were still under the delusion at the time that instructions were coming from your Father. The word spread among the hosts was that they should convince mortals that their Father had a single son; not thousands upon thousands cloistered in heaven, misshapen and deformed to the human eye. No, people needed to believe that God’s child looked like them and bled like them, not the other way around. Not the way angels made the earth bleed and burned brighter than the sun.

You pause under the awning of a closed church to check your phone. Dean wants to know when you’ll be back so they can start decorating the tree. “The kid’s impatient,” says the text. “We can only make so many cookies.” You think of Jack half covered in iced sugar and flour, licking the batter off his fingers and taking the tray out of the oven before they’re done. When the boy had called earlier that afternoon to ask if you could pick up some decorations on the way home the word “rainbow lights” had burst from his lips with such delight that you could almost see his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he was happy.

Your son is happy. The thought is enough to move you out from under the shadow of the wooden cross above and continue on your way home.

Hark the herald angels sing

Glory to the newborn king

There never was any singing among the hosts. Choirs were the measurement term for the size of a flight one commanded. The strength of angel’s voices were used to contact each other midst battle, to send for help or reinforcements, and, on occasion when other weapons were exhausted, as a weapon against the enemy. You remember your own voice when you first spoke to Dean, how the pale faces of windows screamed and the parched throats of radios split. Your Father created you to be a creature that needed to be contained in order to be heard or seen; an anomaly suppressed in borrowed bodies that would remain forever incomprehensible by those you were charged to protect.

You can wrap yourself in cells and hair like them and still remain alien to them. Even as long as you’ve been on earth there are still words in your language this body’s tongue cannot pronounce, and colors you cannot find paints that come close to, and sounds no instrument can come close to mimicking.

There is still you, bundled beneath clothes and tissue and skeleton. You are the unknowable.

Sam brushes snow off your coat shoulders as you step into the bunker and he smiles at the face of the knowable you. Dean looks up from a tangle of evergreen boughs and welcomes you, the you that can fit in the door frame of this structure.

Jack. Jack looks at you, the entire visage of you in every increment of decaying glory.

And says your name like a song.

Sing choirs of angels

Sing in exultation

There hasn’t been any exaltation among your siblings for centuries now. Sorrow and greed and chaos have been the sole harmony they have sung, and not just since the averted apocalypse. Even in the earliest days when the presence of your Father blessed the halls of heaven strife still wrestled among the purity, staining it with betrayal and rejection that bled into Lucifer’s fall.

But here, in the warm womb of the earth with two humans and one child, there are notes of that wondrous jubilation the writers imagined in their seasonal songs.

Jack wraps himself up in the Christmas lights and Sam turns them on before he realizes it. When the boy laughs, unfazed by the buzzing bulbs braided around his arms, the panic disappears from Dean’s eyes. They open up boxes of decorations and scrape glitter from their fingertips, grumbling when it smears onto their clothes. Dean throws tinsel at Sam to put on the higher branches and his brother protests that he’s not a ladder. Jack picks up a small figurine and bends his small mouth into a frown.

“Angels don’t look like this,” Jack says and you look over at the small white fluffy statue in his palm.

Fear not. Humans have always sought to transform that which appeared unseemly. They have sanded down every possible edge and muted the scars of what it means to be angelic, turning an enormous and terrible being into something diminutive and fragile so even a child could smile at it.

“I think if I put a tiny trench coat on that Cas would kick my ass,” Dean remarks from under the handful of silver strands that a disgruntled Sam has dumped back on his head.

“No,” Jack repeats, holding the figurine between two fingers, “I mean, they don’t only have two wings. Or even one head.”

Sam bends back one unruly branch that is determined to attack him. “Do you…do you have more than one head?”

You shake your head. “Jack is a child, but more than that he's half human. He doesn’t have a true form like--” you push a finger against your chest “--we do, and he’s not in a vessel. He might get more wings later,” you add thoughtfully. There’s no archetype for nephilim growth, but when you look at Jack you see the strands of his soul and how the blend of hues there are unlike any other humans. You see the shiver of his two wings, full and bristling against the edges of space and time.

“We’ve seen your wings, Cas--well, shadowy thingies.” Dean stands up and squints as if straining his retina can enable him to better glimpse your frightening truth.

“That’s not how he really looks,” Jack beams and before you can put out a hand to stop him he pushes a finger against either brother’s forehead. “Let me show you.”

“Don’t.” The request escapes your lips too late, trailing after a plane that’s already left the runaway. Jack’s eyes are halos of gold and Sam and Dean stand awash in the tremors of his light, staring at you with speechlessly. You close your eyes, a very human habit that will shield you from nothing at all. Terror can slip through the seal of eyelashes as easily as a shadow under the door.

Fall on your knees

O hear the angel’s voices

There were very few who didn’t bow at the sight of your arrival. You wanted to tell them that they didn’t need to drop to the ground; you wanted to tell them you had no choice over the shape of your being. Eventually you let yourself believe that their reaction was because of the uniform you wore; soldiers are always greeted with trepidation, even human soldiers. They only appear in times of war and death; so you could reason that the hidden faces were because of that and not because of the horror of you.

But Sam and Dean are your family. They should not have to associate you with something as unnatural and ghastly as your mutilated true form. You know how the mind of humans work, how it loves the familiar and loathes the foreign. They see you as one of them because you look like them, and act much like them now, a comfort that will be erased now that they are seeing the difference of you.

Especially this you. Cut off from Heaven for years and eroded by the rivers of poison and possession that have ravaged your form, there remains nothing but mangled remains of monstrosity to see.

“Oh.” The breath swells from Sam, followed by an extended version of the vowel from his older brother.

When Jack pulls his fingers away and the illumination fades you open your eyes but keep your gaze to the floor. It won’t hurt any less but you want to delay being witness to the restrained revulsion in their eyes.

“I didn’t always look like that,” you say, as if it offers any excuse. “I had more…” you try to capture an appropriate English word to describe it “…fingers.”

“Where?” Dean sounds… curious. He sounds curious. Excited.

“On the..ah..faces.” You lift your head a little, waiting for their unease to fall like unannounced snow.

“Ah, the arches,” Sam says with pride, only to be contradicted by Dean.

“Wouldn’t that make them eyelids? Or eyebrows?”

“The faces aren’t structured like that; they could be arches or even parallel lines.”

“Okay, well, I know what I saw, and it was definitely eye-ish. I mean, that face was a leopard right? Leopards have eyes.”

“Cheetah,” Sam returns. “The spots are different, dude.”

“Those aren’t spots, those are the eyes,” Jack interrupts.

“So then the fingers do go on the eyebrow-y things. Like this.” Dean grabs a pencil and paper off the stack of books on the table and starts scrawling hurried lines. “And then the five and a half wings go there--and there---and I think one was there.”

“No, you’re getting the angles wrong, it came out of the elbow there.” Sam snatches a pen and scribbles out a corner of his brother’s drawing and adds something else.

Jack peers over their shoulders. “You’re forgetting the wheels.”

“They’re broken,” you point out shamefully, but no one hears you. Dean is swinging the pencil around the white sheet and Sam is accusing him of not knowing how to draw a circle and then Jack disappears and reappears with a box of crayons.

“Pink? I thought it was purple.”

“More like magenta.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Sammy. Jack, back me up here.”

They cluster around, crayon crumbs smearing into the white and elbows nudging each other for space to draw, and you stand there with a growing lump in your throat because they're not afraid.

Because Dean goes and grabs that little plush figurine and a white board marker and starts dotting the lace wings with spots for eyes. Because Sam gets toothpicks to stab the paper cut heads he’s drawn into the styrofoam body and Jack is twisting pipe cleaners into the bent lines of your wings. Because they fight over which side of the figurine to put two or three wings, and whether or not the rotating ram head should be in the front or back.

When they finally turn around and ask you if the bottle-cap wheel should be taped below or above the waist you try to answer without crying and it doesn’t work.

Fear not then said the angel

Let nothing you affright

There isn’t anyone else awake when Christmas morning first dawns. You leave behind the warmth of your room and go towards the center of this place you’ve christened home. Behind the staircase you find the plug and switch on the lights for the tree. They blink in a rainbow flutter against the synthetic branches, throwing tiny halos across the dangling snowmen and reindeer. Sitting on the table atop a stack of books is the angel figurine, now sporting a variety of hand-made appendages and hand-drawn additions to create some kind of composite creature.

It looks absolutely nothing like you.

You’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

Your hand slides into your coat pocket and you find the two candy canes from the caroler the day before. You find a branch to hang the red and white striped hooks on, somewhere between the mismatching socks that have definitely been put there without either brother’s knowledge and the actual baked gingerbread man that has Jack’s distinctive wiggly smile drawn on it in red frosting.

Before the sounds of your waking family come drifting down the hall you pause, fingers hesitating over the newly-crafted angel. You pick it up and move it to the top of the tree, wiggling it back and forth until it stands proud with all three crayoned faces to the sky.

You weren’t there for the first Christmas. And angels don’t sing or rejoice.

But you are here now, in this moment of Christmas.

Later Dean will be humming off-key when he pops marshmallows in the mugs of hot chocolate and Jack’s little squeal will ring out when Sam tries to stop him from opening the presents first. Later Jack will come tuck his arms around you for a sleepy hug and Dean will flash you a grin while he surreptitiously witches his mug for Sam’s. You will sit on the sofa cradling your own mug of hot chocolate and Sam will lean against your knees as he sits cross-legged on the floor flipping through the dictionary of dead languages you wrote for him. Later Jack will be wearing his new gloves and shadow boxing with Dean, both moving dangerously close to the tree. You will whisper “Merry Christmas” right before Dean’s leg twists around one of the lower branches and the six foot evergreen bows to the ground, sending the composite angel flying away on the wings of your laughter.

And ever o’er its Babel sounds

The blessed angels sing

Songs mentioned, in order of appearance: Angels From the Realms of Glory//Angles We Have Heard on High//The Angels Cried//Hark the Herald Angels Sing//O Come All Ye Faithful//O Holy Night//God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen//It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

#my fic #my fanfic #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack kline #tfw 2.0 #christmas #merry christmas #christmas fanfic #christmas songs #christmastime #holiday spirit #holiday mood #angst and feels #feels #fluff #spn #spn fanfic

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Behind the Mask

Hi. This is, a lot. Like five pages of work. I’ve spent days working on it and I’ve rewritten it twice, so I hope this is as good as I think it is. I’ve left the ending open because I’m thinking of writing a part two, let me know what you think. 

Master List

~~

“What on this blue earth do you mean you need another suit, Hyunwoo? The party is tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, Lin, I know its last minute.” The large muscular man bows deeply, and you can just feel in his words that he’s truly sorry. 

“I was supposed to be out of the country, my plans only just got cancelled.” The other man apologizes, also bowing. Your boss glares at them, her steely gaze made worse by the black mask covering her face. 

“I can make it.” The moment the words leave your mouth you regret them. All three of them turn their gazes on you, and for a few moments you want to sink in on yourself. 

“I don’t want to impose on you.” You can’t speak for a few seconds, too busy being absolutely stuck on the man in front of you. He’s tall and so muscular he could probably kill you with a hug. “Y/n,” Lin begins, “You really think you could create an entire suit in a day?” You square your shoulders, this was the moment you had been waiting for, a chance to show your skills. 

“I designed all the other suits, every other costume you had me work on is done. I already had a mock up of his suit finished when he cancelled originally. If I can use fabric from the workshop, and if I work all night, I can get it done.” The group exchanges glances, and you can see just from their eyes that Lin and Hyunwoo have very little faith. 

“I think you can do it.” The other man vouches, eyes twinkling and making your heart skip more than a few beats. “I have faith in you, and I’ll help as much as I can.” You choke on your own words for a second but finally manage to nod. 

“Thanks.” 

“Alright, Y/n, if you think you can do it, go ahead.” Lin nods, “Hoseok is going to be your assistant.” 

“Great.” You breathe, unsure if you’re going to be able to function properly with him around. “Follow me.” You lead him back to the workshop, which is just a huge warehouse connected to the back of the tailors shop filled with fabrics, lace and all the bits and baubles needed to make whatever clothing customers wanted. 

“Woah.” His small gasp has you smiling behind your own mask as you head over to your workstation. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty impressive, but we’re asked to clothe most artists these days. Dragon Tailors is the official tailor for JYP, Big Hit and P Nation, but we get clients from all over.” You explain, dropping your sketchbook on the table and motioning for him to take a seat. “Alright so this is what I designed a few months ago.” 

The suit was, arguably, simple. It was just a black lace vest, and a deep red jacket with matching pants. The jacket had the wings of Eros embroidered on the back in gold, and doves on the lapel, while the pants had rose vines going up the legs. It was simple but elegant and sexy, and a good representation of Eros in your opinion. The other boys in his (former) group were also going as varying gods. While the other boys were going as much more major gods, Hoseok had chosen Eros, maybe to only lowkey match the other boys. 

“Wow, that’s a lot. Are you going to be able to make it in time?” You shrug, your shoulder brushing against his. 

“I have the rose patches for the pants, and I have a dove program on my embroidery machine for the lapels, I can hand stitch the wings, if I get the rest of it done quickly.” You explain, glancing at your watch. “I’ve got roughly 40 hours, luckily you guys came in early.” 

“Is there anything I can help with?” You finally look over at him. He’s handsome, even while wearing his mask, with strong brows and deep brown eyes. For a few seconds you’re stuck, drowning in his eyes, until you finally manage to pull yourself out. 

“You need a mask and some shoes. The mask should be red and gold, and the shoes should be black, and Oxfords.” 

“You guys don’t make shoes?” He wonders and you shake your head, walking over to the rack of half finished designs you were working on. 

“We design them, but typically the people we work with either have a pair already, or we order them, usually from a brand the star is partnered with.” You grab the mock up you had already built. “Before you leave to get those, try this on for me. I need to know it fits.” You toss the material at him, pointing to the changing room behind him. 

Of course it fits, but you still make a point of reminding him not to work out between now and the party, or he might burst out of the jacket, which you would pay to see. Before he leaves to get his missing pieces you give him your number, telling him to text you pictures before he buys anything. And with that, you’re alone in the workshop. 

“So, he’s kinda cute.” Lin greets, sliding your sketchbook towards her while you’re focused on the bolts of red cloth on the wall. 

“He’s an idol, you told me they’re off limits.” You retort, “Satin or silk?” 

“Silk, with satin for the liner.” You nod, grabbing the cloth you want. “And they aren’t off limits, at least, he isn’t. Are you making him body chains?”

“If I have time,” You drop the cloth on the table, grabbing your patterns. “I mean, he’s hot, no cap, but there’s no way he’d go for me. He probably has girls throwing themselves at him all the time, I’m not about to do that.” Lin nods understandingly, walking over to the lace collection and picking one. 

“What about this for the vest?” You glance over at her, nodding approvingly at the selection. “He’s a broad boy, are you sure this is going to look good on him?”

“He could make a garbage back look good, Lin. Hey don’t you have a Hyunwoo up front?”

“He’s getting the two of us lunch, as payment for stressing me out.” 

“Sounds like a date to me.” You tease, earning a chuckle from her. 

“Maybe it is.” She pats your back as she walks by, “Good luck, I believe in you.” 

“That makes one of us.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how much time was passing, there were no windows in the workshop, so you just kept going. The pants were finished, you had decided to forgo the vines, and just add roses in a few different colors. The vest was done too, the lace Lin had chosen was made of small birds and flowers, like it had been made for this project. Hoseok had texted you not even an hour after he had left, showing off the mask and shoes he had gotten, which looked really good. 

All that you needed to do was stitch these wings, attach the liner to the torso of the jacket, and put it all together. Oh and make the body chains and the choker. It was going to be a long night, the wings were going to take hours to finish, and the chains probably an hour, but Hoseok would have to be here for that, so it could wait until after the jacket was finished. Then you just had to steam everything and make sure he picked it up on time. 

Good thing sleep is an illusion. 

“Hey google.” You don’t look away from your work as your phone pauses your music to listen to you. “Place an order at Dalcomm Coffee.” You adjust the glasses on your nose, lining the sketch paper up with the jacket. “One large white mocha, no whip with an extra shot of espresso.” 

“Confirm order, one large white mocha. Subtract whip. Add espresso.” The device asks. 

“Confirm.” 

“Order total is-”

“Confirm.” 

“Order placed. Estimated time of arrival: 7:16 pm, Korean Standard Time.” 

“Thanks google, play my work playlist.” 

“You thank your google?” Hoseok’s voice has you glancing up, finding him standing in the doorway with two bags in his hands. Somehow, he looked even better than earlier, now in a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. His face was still hidden behind the mask, like yours, but you could tell he was smiling from the crinkle in his eyes. 

“Yes I do, you don’t?” He shakes his head, laughing softly. 

“Can’t say I do. Maybe I should. May I come in?”

“Yeah sure. The pants and vest are done, if you’d like to try them on.” He shakes his head, perching on the stool next to you with his bags at his feet. 

“I’ll wait until the jacket is done.” He decides. “How are you doing?”

“Working. The lapels are on the machine, so I just need to finish the wings and I’ll be almost done.” You explain, pointing to the machine on the other end of the table. 

“Have you eaten today?” His question shocks you enough to make you look up from your work. Had you eaten today? 

“Uh, no.” You focus back on the chalk in your hands as you tediously redraw the wings onto the fabric. “But I am getting another cup of coffee.” 

“How many cups have you had?” You chuckle, knowing your smile is hidden. 

“Many.” 

“Well, goodthing I brought you dinner.” 

“I’ll eat when I’m done.” 

“How about when you’re done drawing that?” 

“I’ve really got to get this done.” You insist, waving at the jacket. 

“You really need to eat, you still have plenty of time to finish this.” His voice is soft but insistent. “If you don’t eat you’ll get sick.” You huff, tapping the chalk on the table. 

“Alright fine,” You relent, “But let me finish drawing this first.” 

“I can deal with that.” He begins unloading the food, setting it on a nearby table, seeing as your workstation was covered in fabric. 

“You know you didn’t have to buy me dinner.” You comment, eyes still glued to your work. 

“I wanted to.” The way he says is so matter-of-factly has your heart beating a little faster. 

“A man after my own heart.” You joke, glancing over at him. You can tell he’s smiling behind his mask, even though he isn’t looking at you. 

“Maybe.” He mumbles, and you’re pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear that. “This is beautiful.” He breathes, fingers trailing over the roses on his pants. “You’re very talented.” 

“Thank you. If I’m being honest, this is my first chance to make a full outfit of my own.” You confess. 

“Really? I would have assumed you’ve been doing this for years.” 

“I generally just design, and then Lin and the others actually make them. I usually just get to make accessories and take measurements.” You shrug, re-aligning the original sketch over the fabric. “This is my chance to prove myself.”

“Well, you’ve proven yourself to me.” 

~~

Time moves both too slowly, and too quickly for you. Wonho leaves later in the night, several hours after you’ve finished dinner, telling you to get some sleep and not worry about the jacket. You lie, of course, telling him you will when the lapels are finished, but even when they are, you only move them to the side to continue working on the embroidery. Your hands hurt, your back hurts, your eyes hurt, but as the hours pass, the golden shimmer of the thread expands, unfurling into stellar wings befitting any god. You’re halfway through the second wing when a coffee is set down in front of you. 

“Hoseok, I told you to go to bed.” You respond instantly. 

“He probably is asleep, its only 5.” Lin’s voice is tinged with laughter. You finally look away from the needle, finding your boss standing next to you, and a few of the other designers setting up their workstations. 

“Am?” She nods at your question. “Good, if I started at 8,” You pause doing mental math, “I should have the wings finished by 8, the choker should only take about 30 minutes, I might have this ready for steaming by 9-9:30.” You inform her, focusing your face back on the project at hand. 

“Y/n, did you work all night?” Max, another designer asks. 

“Yeah, I’ve still got a bit to finish, but it will be ready for tonight.” 

“Wait, this is for tonight?” Sungwoo gasps, examining the vest and pants hanging on your rack. 

“Yeah.” You answer curtly, trying to just get back to work. 

“Why are you just working on it now? You should have had it finished yesterday at the latest, we need your help with-”

“Kami, you should be praising Y/n.” Lin interrupts. “While you all got the day off, Y/n was given this task yesterday, and she’ll have it done today. How many of you can say you’ve made a suit in under 40 hours.” Your face is warm as the room goes silent. “That’s what I thought.” Lin scoffs, “As for the rest of you. Kami, you’ve been contracted by Jung Seojoon for an upcoming award show, he’d like to meet at his house at 7. Sungwoo, I believe you have a dress for Perry’s upcoming tour that needs finishing. Max, Harden and Dojoon, you’re on call for repairs and styling for tonight, Rain already called this morning about a broken cufflink, Harden if you could.”

“Yes ma`am.” 

“Good, and leave Y/n alone until the suit is done. Understood?” The room was filled with confirmation and Lin patted your shoulder. “I’ll be in my workroom.” 

~~

You were right, the embroidery was finished by 8, but the entire suit wasn’t ready until almost 11, thanks to the choker taking forever. Sitting on your stool, you gazed at your masterpiece, marveling at how well it turned out, and praying it fit properly. 

“Looks good. Hoseok will be here for pick up at 5, why don’t you head home for a bit, get some sleep.” Lin greets, coming up behind you. 

“I should stay and help with-”

“No. You’re going to go home, until 4, at least. If you wake up before he’s supposed to come pick it up, you can come back and help. Otherwise, we’ll call you if we need you.” She orders instead. “Do not argue with me.” 

“Yes ma’am.” You finally relent. 

The exhaustion hit the moment you walked in your front door, and you ended up passed out on the couch instead of your bed. When you finally woke up, it was thanks to the incessant ringing of your phone on the table next to you, and the sudden lack of being able to breathe thanks to your cat deciding to pass out on your chest. 

“Hello?” You mumble into the device, absently petting the naked kitty. 

“Y/n, it’s Lin. Get up and shower, I’ll be at your house in thirty minutes.” Her words have you sitting up slightly, confused, and knocking the cat off. 

“Sorry, Berus. And what do you mean you’ll be here in 30 minutes?”

“I’m playing fairy godmother tonight. Go shower, now.” Her voice is stern, and something tells you not to question it. 

“Um, alright.” 

The doorbell rings just as you exit the bathroom, still toweling your hair dry. Lin is standing outside with Max and Sungwoo, with a dress bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Uh, hi.” You manage to mutter as they push past you into your apartment. 

“Oh good, your hair isn’t dry, that’ll make styling it easier.” Sungwoo remarks, “Max and I will set up in the kitchen, the lighting’s probably better.” 

“I’ll put this in the bedroom. He’ll be here at 9:45, so that gives us only about two hours for hair and make up, think you can do it?” Lin asks, hanging the dress bag on the curtain rod over the couch, giving you and Berus the chance to ogle what's inside. 

The suit is while, with pale pink and gold flowers adorning most of it. The buttons are ivory with golden trim, and a mask, the same white and gold, with the same almost pink flowers, hangs from the hanger. 

“What is going on? Why are you here and why do you have a suit? And who is going to be here at 9:45?” Sungwoo and Max turn to Lin. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Lin smirks at Max’s question. 

“I told her some. Like I said, I’m playing Fairy Godmother.” She turns to you as she speaks, excitement glittering in her eyes. “You are going to the ball, Cinderella.” You wanted to respond with something intelligent, but all that came out was a very undignified, 

“Huh?”

“Come on, Psyche,” Max laughs, guiding you towards the kitchen, “Your Eros awaits.”

#wonho imagines #wonho imagine #monsta x wonho #mx wonho #wonho #monsta x imagine #Monsta X #weenee #monbebe #wonbebe