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sailing-through-hawkins · 8 months

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✧ dedicated to that one anon that made me feel so happy about the siren kas au again!! also thank you mea for beta-reading this for me you are a lifesaver!! going to tag @xenon-demon and @chaoticlovingdreamer because i know you both were interested in this idea hope it's cool to tag you!! ✧

The first time it happens, it's not a big deal.

They were on their way to start a supply run, some small groceries, snacks and sweets, to try and keep the mood up.

He had already done his rounds, checked in on El (still exhausted) and Dustin (still sleeping with his head on his mom's lap; she's still wiping her tears away when Steve sees her) and the Byers (still huddled together, warm, loving). He felt a twinge in his chest at the absence of Lucas and Erica but he knows they're with their parents because they did a check-in literally ten minutes ago. They're safe.

Steve knows they're safe. He just wishes they felt safe.

A whole month of fear and caution but this time, instead of a couple of kids sharing glances across town, nodding and walking on, it's everyone in Hawkins, gawking up at the dark clouds without any idea of what's been happening under their noses for years.

He wishes they never had to find out.

"Hey," Robin says, grasping his hand as she steps out onto the doorstep next to him. "We got this, right?"

"Yeah," Steve grips her hand back, stroking his thumb over the ink doodles across her knuckles. Sometimes he thinks the only reason they'll make it is that he's got her by his side. "We got this."

She smiles a thin, watery smile, lifts up her mask and makes her way to the car. He inhales, covers his nose with the black bandana Dustin gave him and follows behind her, gripping at the cold, empty space in his palm.

The forest was always one of the worst parts of living in this house, but the darkness has turned it ashy and cold, like something out of a zombie movie. He wonders, as he stares through the trees, if Barb got to see the forest before she was pulled through.

That's when he hears the music.

An echo of a guitar strumming. It's faint, the sound warbling as the guitar gets tuned and re-tuned every few strums.

It's so quiet, he thinks, so why does it sound so close?

"Steve?" Robin calls out, her eyes as wide and beautiful and terrified as ever under her goggles. She stands next to his car, one hand tapping the hood nervously. "You ready?"

Steve blinks and shakes his head, the echo of the guitar fading away as he twirls his keys around his finger. "Ready."

Probably just someone playing around on the radio or something, he reasons as he starts the engine.

No big deal.

Two days later and everyone is in the living room.

Everyone meaning literally everyone, even fucking Mrs Wheeler, all to discuss shelter for the families who lost their houses in the earthquake.

Steve's house is already full of most of the Party (Dustin insisted they use the name for the entire Upside-Down-Expert-Team), otherwise he'd offer it as a place for people to stay in until they can get something more permanent.

That's all this place is good for anyways. Just a rest stop.

"I appreciate that, Mom." Nancy taps her finger on the dining table, eyes squinting and lips squeezed into a very fake smile. Steve winces and starts to make his way to the sun room, gripping the blankets in his arms tightly as she continues. "But some of these people need -"

It's pretty easy to tune the discussion out, focusing on laying out the blankets and making as much of the space as comfortable as possible. The big windows let so much sunlight in, it's perfect for anyone who wants to soak up in the warmth. The only problem is the view.

He pointedly doesn't look at the pool, hands on his hips as he surveys the room, and that's when he starts to hear the guitar again. The strumming starts up quietly and washes over him, re-tuning itself every time he starts to rearrange the blankets again. A few minutes of tuning and it starts to play a song this time.

Steve tilts his head, staring out at the pool. Someone must have switched on the lights when it started getting dark.

When did it get so dark? He should go back and check on everyone, make sure they're comfortable. Is there enough space? Maybe he should redo the blankets?

The song soaks the back of his neck.

The blankets are perfect. He and Robin just can share.

It's so familiar, he thinks, as the water ripples with the wind. Something he's heard, but not listened to.

There shouldn't be any water in the pool. Why is there -

The song is slow, coiling behind his ear and gently drifting down his shoulders, making him shiver. He thinks he should know the music, humming along to it as the guitar starts to get louder. It feels nice, a comforting chill down his back that eases the tension of his wounds.

His wounds. Robin. Robin, his bat bites still hurt, why does it hurt so much, what's -

Oh, he thinks as the music plays even louder in his ear, in his mind, that's not the radio.

"Steve!"

Robin is crying, hands crushing his jaw, her face blocking the view of the empty pool. The music is gone.

"Steve, please!"

"Rob?" he croaks, swallowing the dryness of his tongue. His head feels flooded with a fuzziness, blood rushing through his veins like it was moving too slowly before. He blinks when he realizes they're outside now, standing between the pool and the house. It's still daylight. "What -?"

She pulls him into a hug, and he struggles, but manages to wrap his own arms around her, if kinda slowly. "You just - you weren't saying anything and started walking to the pool and I couldn't stop you -"

"Steve," Nancy says somewhere to his left. He barely manages to lift his head to look at her, blue eyes sharp and a Walkman held tightly in her hand. "What did you see?"

The fuzziness is fading away but his brain is still moving through a fog to connect words together. "I heard music."

Robin's face is in front of his again, eyes wide and beautiful and terrified. Oh, Robbie. "Vecna uses music now?"

"Not Vecna." Steve wrinkles his nose. "It...wasn't Vecna."

"How do you know that?" Nancy squints at him and he rests his forehead against Robin's, his bones melting into stone, too heavy to hold up. He hears the creak of the Walkman, Nancy gripping it tighter. "Steve, how do you know it's not Vecna?"

"Music w's nice." His eyes are closing. "Felt nice."

After that, the plan was never leave Steve alone.

It made bathroom breaks awkward but Argyle was so chill about it that Steve didn't even mind after the first two trips.

El couldn't find anything Upside-Downy on him, and there was the entire town with Upside-Downy shit happening everywhere, so there wasn't really much more to the plan than him having a bodyguard.

They made a chart for their shifts. God, he loves these shitheads.

"Here, man," Argyle says quietly, handing over three slices of pizza with a wink. Steve thanks him with a real, if exhausted, smile. Sleep hasn't been easy for the past week. "Fresh outta the oven."

"You're a godsend, dude," Steve groans, blowing air on the pizza slice. Mike grumbles under his breath about "hair-bias", whatever the fuck that means. Erica just rolls her eyes and shoves at his head.

The Sinclairs are visiting today, the parents persuaded by Lucas and Erica's whining (and a little bit of Steve's charm) so they can spend more time at "home base" with the others.

They're sat in the living room, eating lunch as rays of sunlight shine on the food like some kind of holy blessing, with the rest of the Party.

The rest of the survivors would be more accurate.

He tries not thinking about it, tries to appreciate the warm cheese and loud laughter. There's too much to not think about. How Max isn't here, how she deserves more, how he wants to see her okay and alive and happy.

Eddie isn't here either, and he doesn't think about how much he deserved better too.

"Steve thought it was cool! Right, Steve?"

He wishes Eddie could have made it, that Dustin didn't have to lose him like that.

Hell, they could have been friends. Maybe buried the hatchet so they could make fun of Dustin together, catch each other's eye whenever the tone makes an appearance and just laugh whenever he wasn't looking.

"I said, right, Steve?"

Maybe they could have hung out. Steve would come over to his trailer - or maybe Eddie would come over for a swim - and he'd make fun of Eddie's taste in bands - or maybe he'd listen to him play his guitar, never looking away from those ringed fingers as they created wonderful, wonderful music.

"Dude?"

Oh shit, the music is back. That's probably not good, is it?

But it's so sweet. So calming and cool, like a balm against his torn skin, washing over the dark feelings that built up in his ribcage.

"Steve!"

The song ripples through his veins and he sighs at the feeling. The pool doesn't have water anymore, he thinks. He emptied it so long ago. The music is sad, and his heart clenches at the sound.

The lake has water, he thinks. And the song turns light, sweet, calling him, curling around him, pulling him towards -

"Sorry about this, dude."

"Fuck!" Steve gasps when he hits the ground, groaning as his back ache returns at full force. "What the fuck, man?"

To his credit, Argyle looks genuinely sorry and helps him back onto his feet, holding Steve up with a tight arm around his waist and a tighter grip on his wrist. His shoulder aches at being thrown over Argyle's neck but walking is a lot easier when someone else is carrying half the weight.

He feels so heavy now.

"What - happened?" Steve croaks as they hobble back to the house. When did he leave it?

"You just got up and you weren't -" Dustin swallows, his voice croaky like he'd been yelling. "It's like you weren't even there."

"God, you can't keep doing this, Steve," Robin smacks his shoulder with a tight smile, tears still unshed in her eyes. His chest aches at them. "How many times are you gonna walk out on me?"

"Sorry Robbie," he says and accepts her very tight ow, ow, ow hug with a sad laugh. "I don't know what's going on."

"Was it the music again?" Will asks quietly.

Steve looks at him, leaning his head against Robin's. When did he get so tall? When did they all grow up already? "Yeah," Steve replies, just as quiet. He swallows when Robin lets out a sob into his shoulder. "It was the same song."

By the time his brain is fully functional ("Debatable," Mike sneers, crying out when El smacks him up the head), everyone's already discussing the new plan.

"We'll need to make notes, figure out the pattern, see if there're any triggers for Steve." Nancy said and he tries not to let it get to him, the fact that he needs babysitting now, that he can't do anything without being watched. "If the music makes people feel...good, it could still be a whole new tactic. Maybe Vecna wants our guard down, maybe he's countering our favourite songs, maybe it's a distraction. We have to be ready."

Steve still wants to grumble that it could never be Vecna, that's insulting, but he's too tired to argue about anything anymore.

They've even rearranged who sleeps where so that the Sinclairs can sleep over. They take one of the guest rooms while Mrs Henderson and Dustin join Steve in his own room. He almost loses his mind cackling when the both of them eye his wallpaper with the same mix of disgust and fascination. When Mrs Henderson sees the curtains, she almost gags and it's the loudest he's laughed in a long time.

"You're gonna be okay," Dustin tells him right before they fall asleep. Steve looks up at him from the floor where he lays, couch pillows doing more for his back than training against monsters ever did. "You'll be fine."

"'Course I will, dude," Steve smiles at him as Mrs Henderson leaves the room to talk to Hopper one last time. Tews is curled up on the bed, purrs loud, almost melodic, and lulling Steve's thoughts into a calm. "If the giant flesh monster couldn't get us, no way some wrinkly old naked guy will."

Dustin laughs outrageously at that and Steve wants to coo, wants to cry, wants to grip Dustin tightly in his arms and hide him away from the world, hide them all away in this empty house and make it full, make it safe for them, for Max, for Robin.

He doesn't.

He eventually falls asleep to the sound of Dustin muttering under his breath. And when Steve sleeps, he dreams.

It's so cold around him, so dark and empty. The sky thunders red and the cries of so many monsters echo around him. But there, through the cold and the shadows and the monsters, there's the song, calling to him.

I'm here, he thinks as he trudges his way through the inky mass of thick liquid, not water, not blood, but enough of both to make his steps heavy. I'm coming.

The song curls up on his skin, on his bat bites, soft and sweet and cold, like that time Robin spilled ice cream all over the -

"Steve!"

Robin. Where's - where's Robin?

Shh, it's okay. She's fine. Everyone's fine. Keep going.

Oh, he thinks. Of course. Everyone's okay, he knows they are, right?

Steve pauses his next step.

Right?

The song is even lonelier now and he shakes off the questions clouding his mind. It croons to him, so happy as he makes it through the ink to the shore. It sounds so sweet, that's it, keep going, come on.

He's crawling at this point, body heavy with the weight, until the song lifts him up onto his knees and he looks up to see -

"Snap out of it!"

Steve gasps at the sting on his cheek, blinking when light hits his eyes fiercely, shapes and sounds moving around him from a distance. There's a buzzing coiling behind his ears.

"Steve?"

Dustin's terrified face finally comes into focus behind his mother, who is standing right in front of Steve with her arm stretched across the space between them. Steve blinks, "Hold on, did you just slap me?"

"I'm so sorry, Steve," Mrs Henderson says and just like Argyle, she seems to really mean it. Does she? Her outstretched hand rests on his forehead as the other grips his upper arm. His back aches. His torso burns. Where did the song go? "We were so scared, you weren't saying anything -"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Would never, of course not, just needed to keep going.

They both deny it vehemently. "Of course not! You were just - staring. Out the window. At -"

"At the pool," Steve hisses, biting his lip.

"Yeah," Dustin breathes out, his eyes watering as he reaches out to grab Steve's wrist. "But you're - you're back now. We just - just need to slap you out of it. What's another concussion, right?"

Steve laughs because Dustin's voice is so choked up that if he doesn't laugh, he'll cry. He ruffles the curls of his hair with a smile. A sinking feeling claws at him from the inside of his stomach. Can't he listen to the song one more time?

"Steve?"

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm -" Steve swallows as the blood in his veins prickles. Won't you hear me one more time? "I - I don't want to listen. I won't."

"Can you still hear it?!"

Please? It would make us so happy, Steve.

"I - no, no, I -"

"Steve?! Guys! Code red, code red, please!"

Please, Steve. Please?

"Okay," he says, eyes drooping as the melody curls up around his waist, brushing against the inside of his skin, pooling around his chest, thrumming in time with his heart beat. It feels so sweet, so good, thank you, come here, come here. "Okay."

"El, do something, please!"

The song turns harsh, gnawing on his bones, piercing through his skull, pushing him to the ground as someone is interrupting, no interruptions, leave us alone, alone, alone. The pain builds up crawling and clawing up to his chest to his shoulders to his head, his head, it hurts, it hurts so much, please stop, just stop. "Fuck, fuck -"

"Steve?" Dustin whimpers and he aches, he aches, he aches.

He screams.

When he wakes up, it's to dawn creeping through the windows and rope around his body.

Red sunlight, just like in Mike's Superman comic books, covered by dark clouds.

A red sun to the blue moon. Right side up to the upside down. You to me.

"Whe -" Steve croaks, his eyes creaking open. Fuck, they're so crusty, that's gross. "Where?"

"Steve!"

Robin's face in front of his, beautiful and terrified. He squints up at her, glancing over to find Dustin and Lucas staring at him with wide eyes, Hopper behind them. They watch him and they nod. Others are coming in, Mrs Byers and Jonathan and Nancy -

Steve hisses as something claws through him for the fourth time that night, pain, pain, go away, go away -

"Shit, shit, shit, everyone get in position, -"

"Will, get over here, he's gonna -"

Come here, come on, please? Won't you come back?

"Where are you?" Steve murmurs as the pain turns into the music, gliding over him, like a wave coming to shore, pulling him back to the water, back to us.

"He's talking to the siren! Somebody get -"

Come here, come back, come to me.

"Can't find you," he says, slurring his words as the song combs through his hair, like fingers scratching against his scalp. "Where're you?"

"That's it, Steve, keep talking, we got you -"

Want you here, with us, want us together, don't you?

"Yeah, yes, together," he sighs, the melody trilling in his chest, happy, sweet, soft, perfect, it'll be perfect, together, all together, just before someone reaches for his hand

He hisses and the song pulls away roughly, leaving him floating in the void, he cries out for it to come back, but he betrayed them, shouldn't have done that, Stevie, you tried to trick us -

"Shit!" Steve drops back to the bed with lead in his bones. El is still holding his hand. He was so close, the connection just barely at his fingertips.

Dustin swears as the others start to argue. The frustration is building up in the room, everyone too tense to think about answers, you sly dog, that was clever, but we don't like traitors -

"Wait, no," Steve gasps as something claws in his wounds, amused, you tried to trick me? Fine, no more playing around. "Fuck, wait -"

And the song crashes into the shore, pulls him down under where everything is sweet and cold, right back where you belong.

It's so warm out here, between the trees.

The skin on his back was blistering, biting at his flesh, before the song had gently cooled it down. He shivers at the chill, smiling when the song pulls him forward, looping around him with a sweet hum. It feels so nice, to hear the song without any distractions.

Without any interruptions.

Keep going.

Steve sighs when the song runs through his hair, laughing when it musses it all up. His hand twitches, he wants to fix it up until it's perfect again.

Keep going.

There are noises behind him, the sound of running and metal-on-flesh. It's all so slow, even slower than him. He doesn't know what's behind him, just the dark and gentle song pulling at his veins.

Keep going.

He makes it to the water, to the lake. There is no moonlight, but the song guides his steps, keeps him light. How sweet, he thinks, how sweet of you.

He makes it until his waist is plunged in the frigid water and then the song stops. He looks around but can't see anything in the shadows. There are sounds of humans yelling, of monstrous shrieks behind him, but where is the song?

"Hey."

He looks up and sees crimson eyes, half-lidded, and a smile staring down at him. Massive black wings blow gusts of wind at him. He shivers, and gives a smile in return.

His song.

The wings slow down until big, red eyes are level with his own, curls of black falling with gravity to brush against his cheek. The song hums in his chest, satisfied, delighted and sweet.

"Miss me, big boy?"

#steve harrington #steddie #writing #au content: kas!eddie #ficlet #sailing✧siren!kas #sailor✧writes #i fucking did it guys are you proud of me #i ended up adding a whole 1k because i wanted to smooth it out before posting so thank you kindly to the anon who asked me about this #i appreciate you so much and i hope you see this #can you believe half the reason this took me so long was because i wanted to make a new divider specifically for this

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naturesapphic · 7 months

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Heyy hope ur doing good. Idk if you still do her but I wanted to ask for a Lady D x f reader where they're the girls bio mothers and I'd like to see how they'd all interact with reader (can be hc or oneshot) thank u <3

Biological Mother

Lady dimitrescu x fem!reader

Warnings: stalking

- Alcina had recently found out that you were taken hostage, she had already planned out a way to break in and get you back

- alci just found out that it was mother Miranda who had captured you and she wanted revenge

- mother Miranda had been obsessed with you for years and when she found out that you were married to lady dimitrescu, she was furious and enraged.

- you only needed her, not Alcina, she needed you and she needed you to be hers now.

- mother Miranda took you when the girls were born and you were devastated and terrified.

- you didn’t want to be with mother Miranda, you wanted to be with your wife and your girls but she wasn’t having it

- she locked you down in her basement for years and made you love her.

- Alcina was going to destroy mother Miranda and get you back

- every single one of the three lords adored you (Karl, Donna, and Salvatore).

- they were going to help alcina kill mother Miranda and get you back home.

- even Karl is willing to work with alcina to get you back and that’s saying a lot

- the plan is set and everyone is ready, including your daughters, they don’t remember you of course but alcina told them about you when they were growing up and they are so excited to finally meet you

- soon mother Miranda was gone and you were finally saved

- everyone was so happy to see you and alcina was the one who was the most emotional out of them all

- she’s got her draga mea and the other mother of her children back in her arms

- you were emotional too seeing your wife, especially seeing bela, Daniela, and Cassandra

- you finally went home with your family and things were amazing

- you spend so much time getting to know your kids and they love spending time with you

- bela is the oldest and the most calm. She loves a good book and to just relax around

- Cassandra is the middle child and is the most sadistic. She loves young maidens and slowly killing them and torturing them

- Daniela is the youngest and loves pulling pranks on you and alcina. You even sometimes help you with her pranks

- of course you love to spend time with alcina and get to know her again since it’s been almost a decade since you last seen her

- the both of you definitely make up for lost time in the bedroom

- your daughters love you and you love them

- you love your family and you are so glad to be back

A/n: I hope the person who requested this enjoys it and I hope I wrote it right. If not I can try to re write it! But I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! Have a great day!

#alcina x y/n #lady alcina #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x female reader #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil alcina #alcina dimitrescu imagine #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x fem!reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x you #resident evil fanfic #resident evil

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Human RE8 au: Miranda and Y/N are the parents of the four lords

I had an idea for an au where Miranda and Y/N are married and the lords are their kiddos. Alcina and Karl are fraternal twins and they’re 6, Sal is 4, and Miranda gets pregnant with Donna. Just fluffy family head canons. Oh, and Angie is their little dog! Reader, as usual, is gender neutral. Let’s get into it!

Life in your household is lively, that’s for sure. You hadn’t ever considered the possibility of kids before you met Miranda, but… You’d do anything for her.

After you two had gotten married, she talked endlessly about wanting to have a baby. She would get a far off dreamy look in her eyes as she imagined it. She had always wanted to be a mother. You eventually really warm up to the idea.

During Miranda’s first pregnancy, she was overjoyed to find out she was having twins.

You fainted during the ultrasound… But you were happy too.

Alcina and Karl were so tiny when they were born. However, they both grew to have big personalities. They don’t get along all of the time. While they love each other dearly, they just know how to push the other sibling’s buttons so well. Actually, your dog Angie can usually end their squabbles. A few licks on the face of each twin gets them to laugh and put aside their differences.

Alcina is your little princess. She loves to make you have tea parties with her.

Karl is your little buddy. He follows you around as you fix things around the house. He asks lots of questions too.

Sal was your third child. He’s quieter than his two older siblings, but he is brilliant. Even as a newborn, he instinctively opened his eyes and grabbed your finger when you held him for the first time. You joked that he was probably going to be a doctor or something when he grew up.

Sal loves to be read to… Mostly by Miranda, though. He is a mama’s boy, to be honest. However, you two love to watch movies together. That’s your favorite shared activity.

You and Miranda still make time for date nights. It’s nice to spend some quality time together away from the kids.

However, Miranda seems to have an ulterior motive on one particular date night.

You two are enjoying dinner together when Miranda suddenly becomes quiet as she thinks about something.

You quirk an eyebrow at this. “Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. L/N?” You joke.

Miranda’s face erupts in a blush. She clears her throat, nervous about something. “Y/N? I… I know how happy we are now.” She begins. “It’s just… Hear me out.” She says, holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

You swallow hard. What is she about to say?

“Um… I want to… Have another baby.” She admits.

Your eyes go wide. “What?” You ask softly.

Miranda reaches out to gently grab your hands. “I… Just think that our family isn’t fully complete yet.” She tells you. “I love you and the little ones so much. Another baby would add even more love to our lives.” She explains. “I… Just really want this.” She pleads.

Miranda’s request is so sweet. She’s already an amazing mom. You are silent for a moment as you process this information. Four kids… That’s a lot of responsibility.

Miranda feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest as she waits for you to say something.

However, you finally realize that you wouldn’t mind another baby either. You breathe out deeply and squeeze Miranda’s hands. “If that’s what you want.” You offer.

Miranda gasps in happiness at your answer. Her eyes well up with tears as she leans over to kiss you. “I love you so much, draga mea.” She says as she pulls away.

You smile. “I love you, Miranda.” You tell her.

Miranda glances around to make sure no one is near before she once again leans over the table. This time, though, she whispers something in your ear. “What do you say we go home, put the children to bed, and have a little fun?” She suggests.

You quickly nod your head and desperately flag down a waiter so you can pay the bill.

Miranda giggles at how eager you are.

Needles to say, you and Miranda had a very (Re)productive night. (A/N: Haha! XD)

It doesn’t take long for Miranda to conceive. She decides to keep it a secret for a bit just to make sure nothing bad happens. She actually did that with the first two pregnancies as well, but you never realized. While Miranda is just hoping for a healthy pregnancy… She can’t help but be tickled at the idea of having another girl. Alcina would be thrilled.

Weirdly enough, while Angie is affectionate with everyone in the family, she has been glued to Miranda’s side ever since she found out she was pregnant. She whines or barks if she is away from Miranda for too long.

Miranda doesn’t mind. Running her fingers through Angie’s coat is calming.

Once Miranda has decided that she is comfortable telling you the news, she cuddles with you on the couch as you two watch a show… And just blurts it out during a commercial.

“Y/N? Could you pass the popcorn? Also, I’m pregnant.” She says in literally the same breath.

You nod. “Sure.” You say. But your eyes get wide when you finally comprehend what she just said. “Wha- For real?!” You ask her, excited.

Miranda grins. She reaches out to cup your face and gently kisses you. “Yes, my love.” She says happily.

“Holy shit!” You yell, elated.

Miranda quickly claps her hand over your mouth and shushes you. “Shh, Y/N! The kids are in the other room!” She whispers at you.

“Ha! Y/N said a bad word!” You hear Karl announce to Sal and Alcina. The three of them start laughing immediately.

Miranda sighs and puts her hand on her forehead.

“Which one did they say this time?” You hear Sal ask innocently.

You start chuckling.

Miranda growls and pops your shoulder. “So, you’ve been teaching my children your dirty vocabulary, have you?” She asks sourly.

“Ow! No! They must have just heard wrong!” You defend yourself.

Karl doesn’t make anything better. “Well, last time they said fuck, but this time they said shit!” Karl relays. His two siblings absolutely lose their minds at this.

Miranda scoffs. “Unbelievable.” She says, shaking her head. She stands up and promptly walks out of the room, Angie hot on her heels.

“Hey, babe, wait!” You call out.

Miranda’s had enough foolishness for one day… You end up sleeping on the couch that night. Miranda can’t stand cursing.

Note: Angie and Donna were meant to be together from the very start T^T Also, I don’t know which of the four lords is canonically older than who, but from some of the information we get from the game I think Donna might have gotten the cadou last.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #re8 shitpost #re8 incorrect quotes #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda x y/n #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #donna beneviento #angie beneviento

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mythserene · 5 months

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I've been rereading The Beatles' sections of Cellarful of Noise in between re-listening to the episode while I make a ring, and I disagree with Phoebe that “[Brian] also seems to be offering a bit of a mea culpa" in his version of the story, because I don't think there's a way to read this anecdote as anything other than Brian using it as an example of how he messed up early on by showing favoritism, leading to Paul getting upset and himself overreacting and all of them missing a show... and then calming down, them working it out, and Brian picking everyone back up at their homes to play the last show. (Happy ending.)

So it's more than a bit of a mea culpa.

I mean the thesis statement is, “I have no favorites among the Beatles and this they realize now, but it wasn't always so.”

I have no favorites among the Beatles and this they realize now, but it wasn't always so. A manager dealing with a close-knit foursome has to be as fair as and as cautious as a father of four children. And one night very early in my management of the Beatles this was brought home to me with an unpleasant thump.

It neither acquits nor condemns Paul for being late because the point of the story—bookended by others about the other Beatles—is the different personalities and bumps in the road with each one. (Except George, who he says he's never argued with.)

They're all, essentially, “we can work it out” stories.

The next example is the story of John in the studio telling him, "We'll make the records. You just go on counting your percentages,” and how Brian left the studio afterwards “in a sullen rage” and never got an apology.

"We'll make the records. You just go on counting your percentages." And he meant it. I was terribly annoyed and hurt because it was in front of all the recording staff and the rest of the Beatles. We all looked at one another and felt uncomfortable and John turned away, indicating that there was no apology coming. I left the studios in a sort of sullen rage.

Ringo's anecdote seems worse than Paul's, or at least as bad. (And a train is involved again.)

It was January and the Beatles were due to tackle a country in which —compared to, say, Scandinavia or Germany, they were an unknown quantity. Therefore I was anxious to make a good initial impact. This can be achieved, and the U.S. trip proved it, at the arrival airport.

But fog descended over Liverpool and Ringo Starr could not leave for London to catch the connecting aircraft to Paris. The other Beatles and I and a score of journalists were in London when we heard the news. Naturally I was very disappointed that three Beatles instead of four would descend the steps at Le Bourget Airport in Paris. I telephoned Liverpool and asked Ringo to catch the train so that he could join up in Paris as soon as possible.

He refused, possibly because he believed that a Beatle shouldn't travel by train, and said he would catch the first available plane. I didn't want this because I didn't trust the weather and I said so.

I said, "Ringo, I have never asked you to do anything especially for me before," and he replied: "Oh yes you have. You know bloody well you are always asking me to do things— to see the press, or travel for this or that. I'm not doing it and if you don't like it you can do the other thing." ...

Why was Ringo trying to sabotage Brian?? (Could it be because of Stu?) 🤔

...I was very angry and when, eventually, he arrived in Paris there was quite an atmosphere. But sulking has no place in a group like the Beatles and with just a couple of meaningful looks and a grin, all was well. And, as with other difficulties, a frank talk helped.

But all the little stories end with them understanding each other better and a compliment for the Beatle he's telling a Bump-in-the-Road story about.

Which is, of course, how his Paul story ends:

This was the only time any one of the Beatles refused to play and it could never happen now. But it was not the only time one or more of the Beatles fell out with me. It would not be normal or reasonable to expect four artistic men to glide through life without a clash of views, and although rows are rare, they happen.

So, Brian's takeaway is that “a manager dealing with a close-knit foursome has to be as fair as and as cautious as a father of four children.”

But Lewisohn's takeaway is:

John saw a bigger picture, and it would be surprising if it wasn’t equally obvious, or made obvious, to Brian and George. He likened Paul’s enduring snag with Brian to his other long-standing difficulty: “[Brian] and Paul didn’t get along—it was a bit like [Stuart and Paul] between the two of them.”

Inevitably, this wouldn’t be the only dispute to arise between Brian and a Beatle in their years together, but it is one of the few to be known, and its timing is telling. Brian devoted more than a page to it in his autobiography, saying how “worried, angry and upset” he was.

What?

One of the few to be known except the other two on the very next pages??

John causes Brian to storm out of the studio in a “sullen rage” and with Ringo he was “very angry” and there was “an atmosphere.” But Lewisohn makes it sound like Brian singled Paul out to tell this one story, so it must be a big deal.

I thought I had a very quick point to make, but somehow the moment you start to unravel any part of this you discover it's like a bottomless plate of spaghetti. (I should probably say, “the moment I start to unravel...” but from listening to the podcast I feel pretty confident that I am not alone in this.)

But at some point you just have to cut it off.

💡 🌚

#akom #lewisohn #fine tuning #tune in #paul mccartney #the beatles #brian epstein #spanner in the works #Lewisohn is SO full of shit

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fornasedensgudar · 7 months

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Have you forgotten her?

Do you know her name?

Who is she?

The goddess Ilmr.

(Pardon my bad english, not my first language)

Shes listed as a goddess and occurs in skaldic kennings in the 10th and 11th centuries, and were likely about to be forgotten and lost to all time.

Her name and mystery intreeged me and my fiance, so we did some witchy trans work and see what we could find and then compared, and we both came down to:

"Goddess of change, opens portals to helheim.

Protect the dead and give a safe passage.

Maker of scents to calm the dying. Half sister to Eir. Cold, alone and missunderstood.

Helps you re-think situations and see diffrent outlooks.

Half asir and half jötunn.

Perhaps listed as a disir and a valkyria."

(This is our UPG so take it as you may, its ok if you see her diffrent.)

But also, Not to far of I say so. If you look at some of the very little we have about her and some theories scholars have.

Like most goddesses her name hints to her role. But we are not sure what it means? Some say ilmr means "pleasant scent". This is strange for a goddess/valkyrie but another of her name some say could etymologically related to almr, meaning Elm tree. A tree that on iceland would then ben a rare and more and more rare thing to see along with most trees after the first settlments. Wich might be why she was forgotten, if she is the goddess of the Elm and the Elm becomes rare and travel to places where the elm grow and pepole know of her, then she becomes more and more unknown.

Another intresting thing about the Elm is that in folklore all over Europe its associated with death, something thats rather intresting when looking to a skald from 950s with the kenning "jalmr Ilmar" meaing "Ilmrs alarm". A nother hint to this is that Ilmr may be related to the noun jalmr (noise).

Also, in "Bjarnar saga Hítdælakappa" Bjarnar calls the disir that tells him about his comming death for "Ilmr armleggjar orma". Meaning sort of "ilmr of the armrings". Another thing hinting to her work in death.

So what do you say? Goddess of good scent? Or death? I say why not both? Of lovely scents and with incense we give thanks to spirits of the dead and their Guardian Who guides them to the next realm. With a lovely scent she calms the dead. She who screams in allarm on the battlefeald, goddeass of the Elm. She who helps those Eir could not.

Ilmr.

Here it up to us, the modern polytheistic community to remake as well make something new. Traditions and gods change and its we Who write the history as we work with and learn more about these gods. ((But remeber to make it clear whats UPG and whats based in old sources))

So what do you say?

Do you know the name Ilmr? And how do you see this forgotten goddess?

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splendidemendax · 4 months

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ok so the first sentence of annales book 13 is literally ten lines long and then the second sentence is three words: haec causa necis ("this was the cause of death")

i am swooning

#classics #annales (tacitus)#mea res

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eponymous-rose · 9 months

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So I've been rewatching Star Trek: TNG as comfort TV during/post-move and just got to Yesterday's Enterprise, which I remember liking well enough, but man, it's really unusual in the context of the rest of these early episodes. For one thing, the violence shown is a lot more stark than we've seen in the show thus far - Riker with his throat cut, Captain Garrett with the metal shrapnel in her head, lingering close-ups on dead faces. It's dark and moody and the "happy ending" resolution (as far as we know at this point, anyway) is saving the few survivors of a brutal battle, patching them up, and then shipping them straight back into that battle to be killed.

Given the show's not-so-great track record with its female characters, it's weirdly refreshing that we get a re-do for Tasha Yar. And yeah, she falls in love with a dude and goes off with him on his ship, but she was ready to say goodbye to him and that would've been that - what finally prompts her to step willingly into the meat-grinder is the realization that she had an "empty death" (Guinan had some really raw lines in this one) in the other timeline, and that now her death can have some meaning. It's nicely done, if a bit of a self-flagellating "mea culpa" on the writers' parts.

The alternate timeline isn't the gleeful, campy evil of the Mirrorverse, it's just an exhausted grind through the final days of a losing war. Lots of little touches show how desperate things have become - Wesley's been fast-tracked to a full ensign, Picard is a tactician first and foremost (he takes officers' opinions under advisement, yes, but he's also keeping from them the inevitable, imminent surrender), the bridge is laid out so the captain is front and center with everyone else in the background. As a contrast with the actual Enterprise's chill 90s living room lounge vibe, it's pretty striking. It's like a sneak preview into the bleak and war-heavy sci-fi that would start saturating pop culture a decade or so later, and then it's a firm rejection of that premise - "This isn't a ship of war. It's a ship of peace."

I have a long, long history with TNG - DS9 is my favorite Trek on balance, but TNG is encoded in my DNA. From around ages 3 and 5, my brother and I were watching and rewatching TNG constantly. (My parents would laugh over the fact that my brother didn't know how to read yet but had memorized the episode titles of the first couple seasons.) We had pajamas. We scoured every garage sale and had a giant metal can full of action figures and phasers and tricorders and ships and even, shockingly, that transporter toy that made things disappear using mirrors.

The tactile experience of those toys is burned in my brain - the loose nacelles on the Enterprise model, the click of the left phaser button, the little hole at the bottom of the Borg cube that we once stuck a pencil in and had the tip of the graphite snap off and rattle around forevermore. My brother and I played incessantly with our action figures, to the point where most of them had the paint at least partially rubbed off - we created hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of new episodes over the years. The first time I ever used a touchscreen was at some sort of Star Trek exhibition in Canada in the early 90s that we stumbled across on our way to visit my grandparents.

I'm always fascinated by how kids interact with fictional media - my brother and I were so young, but we obviously knew Star Trek wasn't real. Except... I just always assumed that important people watched it, realized "well, that seems nice", and were actively working to make that future happen. I was (perhaps a little embarrassingly) older when I realized that no, we weren't gonna be out there on science missions to the stars during my lifetime. At least, not in an Enterprise kind of way.

At any given time, there's just this Star Trek filter over how I experience the world - when I got to go to college thanks to scholarships, I had that weighty feeling of responsibility and awe that came with daydreaming about Starfleet Academy. I saw my career shift from the gold of engineering to the blue of science to the red of command. And the older I get, the more I appreciate a show that, for all its flaws, managed to make a utopia interesting and complex.

Because TNG was such a phenomenon when I was a little kid in the early 90s, a lot of my family relationships also have TNG tied up in them. I remember going to my grandparents' apartment and my uncle showing us a fan magazine about the show. I remember another uncle who didn't really "get it" but gifted me and my brother astronaut ice cream because he knew we liked that space stuff. I remember watching most episodes curled up on the couch or my parents' bed with my brother and my mom and dad. When Mom got sick and we talked about death, I remember the way she wistfully brought up the Nexus from Generations or how she hoped she could see the next season of Picard (she didn't, sadly, but she really enjoyed that first season). Hell, one of the first real bonding moments I had with my otherwise hyper-professional and businesslike PhD advisor was when she made a TNG joke, I laughed at it, and she said, "I just love that show, everyone's so nice to each other."

It's just been a lot of fun coming back to this show, is all. I think I periodically forget how much it's affected me and the extent to which it was a fundamental, formative influence. While a lot of it either hasn't aged well or fails to hold up to modern media analysis, so much of it is still lovely, and occasionally there are these moments of shockingly good storytelling.

Star Trek good.

#eponymous text post tag #eponymous moving tag 2023 #star trek tng

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