#zacharie dwell

[simsationalbunnyears]

3 Riverside Drive, Willow Creek

3 Riverside Drive is a small semi-detached bungalow owned by Theodore Bettencourt featuring two rental properties.

*Details and more screenshots below the cut*

3a Riverside Drive:

Current Tenant(s): Genevieve Walker Lot Traits: Fast Internet, Homey, Peace & Quiet, Private Dwelling and Study Spot. Lot Challenges: None

3b Riverside Drive:

Current Tenant(s): Elliot Perry and Zachary Latham Lot Traits: Fast Internet, Homey, Peace & Quiet, Home Studio and Chef's Kitchen. Lot Challenges: None

CC Used:

Baysic by houseofharlix

Tiny Twavellers by houseofharlix

Kichen by houseofharlix

Jardane by houseofharlix

Livin' Rum by houseofharlix

Orjanic by houseofharlix

Listen, I like Harrie and Felix's stuff, okay?? 😅

#ts4 #simblr #ts4 simblr #the sims cc #sims 4 aesthetic #ts4 gameplay #ts4cc #my simblr #the sims 4 #sims #ts4 screenshots #the sims #the sims build #show us your sims #the sims community #the sims 4 build #ts4 lot #ts4 exterior #cc build #show us your builds #felixandresims #heyharrie #house of harlix #ft

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Origins

Title: Orgins Word Count: 2,033 Warnings: Some cursing and mentions of violence! Nothing graphic but be safe! (Also maybe some OOCness, I tried tho!) Ship: Mainly this is a Spider-Siblings fic (my new tag for when I'm with the group) but some allusions to 'A Different Web to Weave' (Miguel x myself) Summary: Rebecca finally sits down to explain her origin story over lunch.

"Wait, so you never did tell us," Miles spoke as he and his friends bobbed and weaved through the crowded hallways of the Hub towards the cafeteria.

The one leading the group was the smallest out of all of them. Her vibrant amethyst hair bounced with each step she took. Out of the group and all of the passersby, the girl stood out like a sore thumb, her only attire being a black satin sundress. But the smile on her face, as she turned her heel and stumbled to face Miles, spoke volumes in her view.

"I never told you, guys, what exactly? How I got Mr. Scary to crack a smile?"

Her tone was coy but the way her smile spread across her face revealed that she had an idea to what they may have meant. The teens rolled their eyes but Rebecca could hear their low chortles and silent breath of laughter.

"Yeah! I mean, no, tell me that another time." Miles pleaded as she stepped forward to fall in line with her own forward-facing steps again. "You never told us how you began to don your mask!"

"You mean the mask I basically never wear?" Rebecca laughed as her hand glided across the table that they so often sat at.

"I still don't understand how that works..." Pavitr murmured thoughtfully as he slid into his seat.

Rebecca only shrugged as she plopped down into her usual spot to claim it. "My dimension's logic? Either that or magical girl logic! But gimme a sec."

Rebecca then got up and took a mental note of everyone's orders before she skipped off to get it. After a lunch line wait and a wobbly trip back, Rebecca slid everything to everyone before dropping her body back onto her stool. Her friends were quite familiar with the sickening sweet shakes she loved but were curious to see her with actual food in her tray.

"Empanadas? Tryna piss off the 'big boss'?" Hobie asked with a quirked brow.

Rebecca smiled as she went to wrap the napkins she brought over the scalding breaded pastries. "As disappointed as you may be, I got these for him. The guy hasn't eaten and that's not good for anyone, trust me!"

"You're too sweet to him. Why bother?"

"Eh, someone needs to keep peace in the Spider-Verse. I'm just doing my part! Besides, I think he may actually tolerate me now!" Rebecca said with her smile causing her eyes to crinkle.

The others in the friend group and a few nosy eavesdroppers stared at her in disbelief. On one hand, they all knew how turbulent the pair was when Rebecca had first gotten involved with Spider Society. But on the other, in more recent times, they had seen her perform what they could only describe as miracles in regard to their ruthless leader. Some of them even thought that the recluse would have her head if he heard her speak as though they were mere acquaintances.

But before anyone could dwell on the subject, Rebecca threw down some light novels. No one could call them comics but they weren't traditional manga either. All of them had Rebecca in a new cute outfit and a different pose per issue. "Okay this is not the last time, but as odd as it'll sound, it's all for real! Here we go!"

My name is Rebecca Grace Rozenaria! I'm a twenty-one-year-old part-time student, part-time retail worker, and the sister of Earth-9612's Spider-Man.

"Take that as you will," Rebecca wistfully mused as her fingers lingered on the panel where a man in typical red and blue colors swung through the city.

"Wait... you're the sister of Spider-Man?" Gwen asked as she brought her drink to her lips.

Rebecca nodded as she drew her hand away. "Yup, Zachary Parker's his name."

"But then what's with the different last name?" Miles questioned, leaning across the table to examine the art.

"Half-siblings, same mom but different dads. Something he'd remind me of so much when we were younger... Anyways! You've all heard of being bitten by a radioactive spider, right? That's what happened to you all and my brother."

I have a different take though! When I was nineteen, my two friends and I were messing around in an abandoned building a few towns from my own. My one friend, Ren, had been hearing about some odd events after an old sword went missing and felt drawn to check it out. My other friend and I went with because one) I'm always down for an adventure. Two) A lot of Security Bots from Alchemax have been going rogue and it's best not to be alone when that happens.

"Wait, what year are you in?!" Gwen questioned now, the way her piercing glimmered in the light brought Rebecca out of her thoughts.

"2023, my dear. But the difference I think is that Alchemax isn't just a chemical lab in my universe. It's a household name that seems to mask a privately owned military-based company, at least that's what I've been able to dig up." Rebecca spoke of this as she sipped her cotton candy shake, acting as if this was just some weekly high school drama she heard in the showers.

"How'd you manage that?"

"I've got contacts! It pays to be sweet and harmless. ...Maybe that's why each branch wanted to recruit me after high school. That or they're more desperate than an ex-partner." Rebecca smiled with another sip.

Once again, the others could only eat the food as they hung to her every word.

Anyway, my friend Ren had discovered an old rite or something that may calm down the area's weirdness so as college kids do, we tried it. Nothing happened at first, and honestly, we were going to write it off as a night of fun. But then the wall fell away revealing a blinding gold light. I honestly thought that we had reached the heavens!

Rebecca then flipped a few pages until she found the centerpiece. The picture displayed the glowing hole in the 4 story building and the silhouette of a towering male drider. Her pale fingers tapped the silhouette's head repeatedly as she leaned in.

That's what I thought anyway, but I'm pretty sure angels of ANY type aren't LITERAL spider people. Angels also don't go hunting as far as I know. Regardless, this towering being growled that killing us at that moment would be boring. So he demanded that one of us become worthy prey. Both of my friends have such promising futures, so I stepped forward. This being and I made a pact. He'd give me some power to harness as I saw fit, but at the end of the day, I am his hunt.

Rebecca laid her left wrist across the pile and turned it to reveal faint puncture marks in her veins. The others all leaned in trying to wrap their heads around the story. Their thoughts rushed to explain this as a normal bite from some uncommon animal, but then they remembered where they sat.

Unbelievable, I know. To this day, even after more run-ins with him and everything I've seen and done, I wouldn't buy it if I wasn't there. My own brother didn't and... that got him killed.

Rebecca's eyes fell to her lap as her voice faded and her lips tightened. After a few shakey breaths, she flipped her hand over to turn through the pages.

Remember how I said some security bots often went rogue? Well, at a party, another 'virus' broke lose in them and they were desperate to gain vengence on their captors. The only problem is that they tend to view any bio-organism as such. So they were on a rampage and I went in to save who I could, so did my brother. We were doing fine on our own, until he saw me. He demanded I run, that I shouldn't be here, that I was of no use here, but there were still so many. I tried to listen but I saw one coming at him and I out-maneuvered it. I told him this wasn't the time to argue but he seemed pissed! He started going off that I couldn't 'outdo' him and I 'always had to be better than him.' I tried to reason with him saying he could lash out later once we were safe but he didn't get that chance.

Once again, Rebecca flipped the page and revealed the gruesome scene from her memories.

While he was raving and fighting, he got even more pissed whenever I tried to help him. So as I turned to go help evacuate people, a machine plunged it's arm... Right. Through. His. Chest...

Once again Rebecca tightened her lips. But now, her chest shuddered as she took a deep breath. She took a moment to blink back tears while the others reached out to comfort her. Despite this, she only offered a sad smile of reply as she rubbed the back of her hands against her wet eyes.

I-I'll spare you the details as I still have nightmares and don't need you lovelies getting them... But the machines had gotten what they wanted. I wasn't strong enough o-or fast enough to save him... Maybe me being there or me listening IS what got him killed...

The others wanted to speak up, to retort with the soothing words that she often shared with them. But all that cut through the air was a sorrowful silence.

Maybe this was all just meant to happen... I don't know... But as much of an ass as he was, he still was my brother... So after that and weaving the story that he died protecting his helpless, handicapped sister to my family... I donned the figuritve mask, wanting to leave his legacy intact. But you know when people see spider powers, they think we're all cut from the same cloth. So I became commonly known as Spider-Girl. And now I fight for the truly helpless as a hero and civilain so that I can help those from living the same fate I have...

Another silence hung in the air, creeping down like an arachnid would on their silken string.

"That's quite the story there..." Miles finally breathed.

"It's so similar, but still..." Gwen continued, her blue eyes flickering from the splayed pages to the lilac lady before her.

Hobie bit the inside of his lip while Pavitr slowly rubbed Rebecca's back unsure of what to say.

Rebecca sighed before granting them another smile. "Sorry to end that on a somber note! I'm still working on making it less depressing! Any tips?"

The group only shook their heads.

"I'll work on it then, and leave my friend Ace to tell you about the time-loop arc." Rebecca said with a breath of laughter.

"Time-loop arc?!" The group wondered in near unison

"That's how Miguel found out my existence and let me tell you he was not happy, speaking of which--" Rebecca glanced down at the doughy treat before her and patting it gently, "These are now perfect eating temperature so Mr. O'Hangry won't burn himself! So let me deliever 'em!"

Miles stood up, making his way to block the smaller woman from leaving. "Vaguely mentioning Spider-Demons I get... kinda, but time-loops! You can't just mention that and wander off like it's nothing!"

Rebecca used the slight flail of his arms to stumble past him. "Yes, I can~! If you want to know so badly, ask Miguel! But before I go, I wanna remind you all that you never have be alone, alright? If you need me, I'm here!"

"But for now," Rebecca called as she stumbled back from them, "see ya~!"

With that, the lilac lady went skipping off to the parts of Spider Society that few dared to willingly go. As the rest of the group scanned over Rebecca's light novels and ate, Gwen mused to herself.

"Just your friendly, neighborhood, antithesis. Am I right?"

It was only as the group continued to eat and look at the books did they realize Rebecca hadn't taken their lunch money and sneakily treated them. They'd get their answers and their payback next time...

Taglist: @floweringforgetfulness @goldenworldsabound @maskedanarchy-ships @disneymarina @canongf @hadesgoddess @nyandereneko @singingdeepinme @violetsandmilk @cydanite

#selfshipdom #selfship community #self shipping #fo community #selfship #self indulgent stuff #self insert community #self insert #self ship community #ship: a different web to weave #platonic ship: spider siblings

[northernreads]

Mr rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The Second Sight of Zachary Cloudsley was a whimsical historical fiction with a dash of the fantastical. The setting of this story is vividly descriped and helps to lay ground for a group of very well developed characters. This is a fully realized story that I think I will dwell on for some time.

As for the reading experience itself it reminded me of books such as Inkheart or the Old Kingdom series in tone and structure.

I think this would appeal to fans of historical fiction, adventure stories, and those looking for a touch of the whimsical in their books.

#book review #the second sight of zachary cloudsley #sean lusk #mine #booklr

[scarlet-heartstrings]

Entry 28

Japhet 1/?

There were a surprising lack of enemies here. Not quite what Judge made it out to be, but I digress.

It was so eerily empty, so quiet. Among fake bookshelves I saw a few of them held real materials, and slowly I came to read a story piece by piece that suddenly made some of this wretched zone make sense.

Japhet created this place as what he knew would impress his people, precious to his heart and top of his mind. Back then, perhaps it wasn’t so preposterous that the elsen here enjoyed the rollercoaster. It wasn’t so crazy to think their lives were filled with joy and endless time. Japhet created this place in beauty, happiness, and the safety of his people. But sadly, whatever was already deep within them seemed to overshadow their joys, and caused them fear of the world, even the things that were once beautiful and good to them. It twisted Japhet up inside. He was once something beautiful himself, something amazing and ethereal, now dwelling among the streets of what was once his paradise. A bird to a cat, and that cat to a tyrant.

It was foretold in his story that someone would come to stop him. I fear that it is us that the story talks about, Batter. Is there really no other option than violence? There has to be something good left inside him, surely.

We’ve come to the summit of the library where Japhet once watched over his kingdom from, before the rise and after the fall. Zacharie was there to give us some helpful items, as usual I am grateful.

But I’m so afraid to see what event awaits us at the top, something feels so wrong. If everything Judge says is true, how could Valerie and Japhet be the same person?

Either the Judge is lying or something I don’t see coming is upon us, something horrible.

#mortis ghost #off game

[newsworld-nw]

'Home Improvement' star Zachary Ty Bryan pleads guilty to felony assault

Dwelling enchancment, actor Zachary Ty Bryan Later pleaded guilty to felonious assault The arrest was made in July in Eugene, Oregon. Bryan reportedly pleaded guilty as part of a deal to keep away from in-depth jail time. wrap up. The actor's lawyer, John Colego, launched a press release to the outlet on Wednesday, explaining that his shopper "believes that is the easiest way to resolve this to keep away from additional trauma for his household." Eugene police later situated Brian within the space, and he was booked into the Lane County Jail on a charge of fourth-degree assault below the APA (Abuse Prevention Act), as he already had a restraining order. A case has been filed in opposition to him by the sufferer for an earlier incident. As a part of his deal, Bryan can be sentenced to 36 months of supervised examination as an alternative to a doable 19 to twenty months within the Oregon Division of Corrections, which might have resulted had he not pleaded responsible. As a part of the deal, he was ordered to have no contact with the sufferer, whose identification was not named within the preliminary police report. Brian's latest arrest follows an extended listing of authorized troubles he has confronted. In 2020, Brian was booked for a DUI. He pleaded responsible for the fees and was sentenced to 5 years of probation and 18 months in a multi-offender alcohol program for his previous DUI arrests in 2004, 2007, and 2017, the outlet reported, citing court docket paperwork. In October 2020, Brian was arrested in Oregon and submitted a police report after an incident with Johnny Faye Cartwright. He has been charged with strangulation, fourth-degree assault, coercion, intimidation, harassment, and interference with a lady he was romantically concerned with throughout his marriage to his ex-wife, Carly Matros. Printed by -- in a launch The Hollywood Reporter In June, each side of the alleged incident involving Cartwright and Bryan was detailed in a police report obtained by the enterprise publication. Cartwright alleged that Bryan was abusive within the month as much as the incident, and reviews declare that Bryan woke her as much as asked what occurred to her cellular phone charger, "pulled her hair," punched her within the face, and "choked her." About 45 seconds Brian instructed the outlet that THe arrested "acquired so blown out of proportion." She claimed that Cartwright, whom she started seeing while married, was fed up with her "double life" and that issues escalated as a result of the fact that they each "drank an excessive amount of". brian In the end, he pleaded guilty to misdemeanor threats and fourth-degree assault and was sentenced to a few years of probation. He was ordered to have no contact with Cartwright and to not "buy, possess, or devour alcoholic drinks" or be anywhere the place alcohol is offered or served as the primary objective. Associated content material: #Dwelling #Enchancment #star #Zachary #Bryan #pleads #responsible #felony #assault Read the full article

[locustheologicus]

Panentheism and Process Theology:

At the theologate in Chicago where I studied theology, social ethics and pastoral ministry I had a Franciscan professor who was a brilliant theologian, Fr. Zachary Hayes. His own academic mentor was Cardinal Ratzinger at the University of Tubingen. It was through Fr. Zack that I learned about Process Theology. He wrote a fascinating book called "A Window to the Divine: Creation Theology" where he tells us,

Our tradition is rooted in the belief that, however the universe may look empirically, it is precisely this universe described to us at the empirical level by the sciences that our faith holds to be the fruit of God's creative knowledge and love.

Process theology teaches that everything that exists—including God—is in an eternal process of growing and becoming. This accepts the premise that we are all one with God and that God and the world exist in mutual interdependence. God then can be more clearly understood as the mens (mind) that St. Augustine was talking about when he attempted to define God the creator in relation to the Trinity. God is the creational intelligence that is constantly luring the world to good values and draws us to relationships with himself and all of creation (which he subsists in).

This graph below and the video above highlight the distinction between panentheism, typical theism, and atheism/pantheism.

This is consistent with what I learned as a thomistic understanding of God as one that is the self-subsisting process of existence (Deus sit ipsum esse subsistens). This is the notion that God is not a supreme being but the intelligence that motivates and moves creation. The God that we typically imagine, and the one that atheist rails against, is the image of God that exists as an entity outside of creation. He creates it and influences it, but he exists somewhere outside of it. This is not the God of Augustine, Aquinas and Process Theology.

It is precisely this image of the cosmic Christ that St. Paul tells us about when he says "Christ is all and in all" (Col. 3:11). It is with this understanding that St. Paul invites us to "let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." a few verses later. Panentheism is not some nouveau spirituality that competes with traditional Christianity, it is the way the early Christian community understood God as they accepted the concept of divinization and taught us that "God became human so that humans could become God."

This is how the famed Franciscan mystic, Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, identifies the basis of Christian Spirituality in his book, “The Universal Christ.” Here he reflects on St. Paul’s notion of the Body of Christ as the “collective unconscious” where we enjoy a shared “common identity, already in place, that is driving and guiding us forward” (Rohr, Ch. 3).

Paul merely took incarnationalism to its universal and logical conclusions. We see this in his bold exclamation, “There is only Christ. He is everything and he is in everything” (Colossians 3:11). If I were to write that today, people would call me a pantheist (the universe is God), whereas I am really a panentheist (God lies within all things, but also transcends them), exactly like both Jesus and Paul. (Rohr, Ch. 3)

Fr. Rohr will have us Christians really delve into the idea of the cosmic Christ based on the early Church's notion of existing "in Christ." To make this case, he reminds us that in Galatians 1:16 St. Paul tells us that "God revealed his Son in me." If St. Paul understood Christ as one who alone is divine in a way that is not relevant to our entire humanity, as many of us do, why would he not say "God revealed his Son to me" instead. The invitation here is for us Christians to once again reconcile with the cosmic Christ and to identify with our panentheism theology. This will have tremendous spiritual repercussions for us and our Worldview.

I hope that you will and enjoy the full meaning of that short, brilliant phrase (en Cristo), because it is crucial for the future of Christianity, which is still trapped in a highly individualistic notion of salvation that ends up not looking much like salvation at all. All of us, without exception, are living inside of a common identity, already in place, that is driving and guiding us forward. Paul calls this bigger Divine identity the "mystery of his purpose, the hidden plan he so kindly made en Cristo from the very beginning" (Ephesians 1:9-10). Today, we might call it the "collective unconscious."

The beauty of this wisdom is shared by Fr. Rohr in the comment he offers as he contemplates the theological mystery of quantum entanglement:

God is not “in” heaven nearly as much as God is the force field that allows us to create heaven through our intentions and actions.

Contemporary mystic, Eckhart Tolle, takes this belief and wonderfully integrates it within an interfaith spirituality. In the following quote, he agrees with Fr. Rohr's insights on the fundamental teachings of Jesus and his identity as the cosmic Christ, but then he also adds a broader spiritual perspective from other faith traditions. You can find this in his appropriately titled book "Oneness with All Life."

The Truth is inseparable from who you are. Yes, you are the Truth. The very Being that you are is Truth. Jesus tried to convey that when he said, "I am the way and the truth and the life." These words are one of the most powerful and direct pointers to the Truth, if understood correctly. Jesus speaks of the innermost I Am, the essence identity of every man and woman, every life-form, in fact. He speaks of the life that you are. Some Christian mystics have called it the Christ within; Buddhists call it your Buddha nature; for Hindus, it is Atman, the indwelling God. When you are in touch with that dimension within yourself - and being in touch with it is your natural state, not some miraculous achievement - all your actions and relationships will reflect the Oneness with All Life that you sense deep within. This is love.

The only disagreement I would have with this awesome insight is the lack of the miraculous. To enter into Christ is to transcend oneself into the divine. To achieve this requires us to go beyond ourselves and to submit to the divine that we have corrupted within our nature. This requires the miracle of grace, our partner in this dance.

That, for me, is the fundamental truth of Christian Panentheism and the recognition of process theology.

#Youtube #divinization #panentheism #process theology

[glowyjellyfish]

Me: I have been agonizingly bored while working lately, maybe there is some semi-mindless TV I haven’t seen before that can keep my brain happy. I know, how about that silly spy show I watched a bit of when it was new?

SIX AND A HALF HOURS LATER

why do my eyeballs hurt

…so the sensible thing to do would be to pace it out and only watch at key boring times at work, but no no my brain engaged hyperfixation mode and now I have to cram the entire show into my brain as quickly as possible

and yes, I REALIZE that it is ironic I would feel that way about watching Chuck, but that is also how my brain rolls. New media, must consume before I lose interest.

Anyway, it’s just a lot of fun. Zachary Levi is extremely cute. Some quality UST. Fun silliness. Also, there’s this trope where two people are in danger and one of them declares the other to be more valuable and sacrifices themself to save the other, and the other is horrified—love that trope. Got it once or twice on SGA, but this show is like made of it. Good stuff.

I would like it to be just a smidgen more angst and aftermath-y. Like, Chuck has mentioned getting headaches when he flashes from time to time, and I would like more information. Does he often get headaches from flashing, or just when it happens a lot? I would like to see the headaches. Has Ellie ever noticed him downing aspirin like it’s candy or anything like that? And I refuse to believe he does not have absolutely bonkers nightmares alllll the damn time from his brain trying desperately to file away everything he has in his head. I think I will probably require fanfic for that, it seems like the show just likes to bring that sort of thing up when it’s relevant for a plot, and it is just episodic enough not to dwell on such details later. It’s fine, I’ll check the fanfics when I am done. I also hope to find lots and lots of crossovers.

#Chuck #I don’t think I am fully down the rabbit hole I am just having fun

[amicidomenicani]

Question Dear Father Angelo, I am an animator for catechesis with adults; there is a point for which I would like a clarification: I know that with Baptism we become children of God and members of the body of Christ and a community of brothers, etc. But these are the questions I cannot answer myself with certainty: is it thanks to the death and resurrection of Jesus that we become children of God, children in the Son, isn't it? Can we say that, before the death-resurrection of Jesus, Mary was a daughter of God in her Son? Did Jesus' death and resurrection bring us Salvation, or sonship as well? Excuse me, but I feel the need for answers to these questions! Best regards AMH The answer of the priest Dear friend, 1. we are saved certainly by virtue of Christ's death and resurrection, that makes us regenerated to supernatural life and participants in the life of the Son. Therefore St. Paul reminds us that we “have been purchased at a price" (1Cor 6:20). 2. However, that does not mean that we have become children of God only since the Lord's death and resurrection. In fact, that was so powerful to be also retroactive, so to speak. 3. So, among the men who are made children, there are also those of the Old Testament who accepted the grace. Most of the time they received that without knowing, but always through a pure or purified conscience. 4. God never abandoned men who lived before the existence of Christ. God has always loved everyone with His divine love for them and gave everyone the means (the grace) to enable their salvation. 5. St. Thomas and St. Augustine speak of three ages or states of humanity. In the first time, God was instructing men through the natural law. Then, time came when He also instructed them through the Law given by revelation (by means of Moses). And then, a third time came when the new Law was given by Christ. 6. Here is what St. Thomas writes: “As Augustine says (Contra Faust. xix), diverse sacraments suit different times; just as different times are signified by different parts of the verb, viz. present, past, and future. Consequently, just as under the state of the Law of nature man was moved by inward instinct and without any outward law, to worship God, so also the sensible things to be employed in the worship of God were determined by inward instinct. But later on it became necessary for a law to be given (to man) from without: both because the Law of nature had become obscured by man's sins; and in order to signify more expressly the grace of Christ, by which the human race is sanctified" (Summa Theologiae, III, 60, 5, ad 3). 7. However, nothing prevents a specific reality from expressing some of its effects even before being implemented in its fullness. St. Thomas writes: “Nevertheless the Fathers of old were justified by faith in Christ's Passion, just as we are. And the sacraments of the old Law were a kind of protestation of that faith, inasmuch as they signified Christ's Passion and its effects. It is therefore manifest that the sacraments of the Old Law were not endowed with any power by which they conduced to the bestowal of justifying grace: and they merely signified faith by which men were justified” (Summa Theologiae, III, 62, 6). This is why in the Acts of the Apostles we read about Cornelius, a pagan centurion: "Your prayers and almsgiving have ascended as a memorial offering before God" (Acts 10:4). However, "when baptized, they receive a yet greater fulness of grace and virtues" (Summa Theologiae, III, 69, 4, ad 2). 8. Here is what Leo XIII says in the encyclical Divinum illud munus: "It is indeed true that in those of the just who lived before Christ, the Holy Ghost resided by grace, as we read in the Scriptures concerning the prophets, Zachary, John the Baptist, Simeon, and Anna; so that on Pentecost the Holy Ghost did not communicate Himself in such a way ‘as then for the first time to begin to

dwell in the saints, but by pouring Himself forth more abundantly; crowning, not beginning His gifts; not commencing a new work, but giving more abundantly’ (St. Leo the Great, Hom. iii., de Pentec.). But if they also were numbered among the children of God, they were in a state like that of servants, for ‘as long as the heir is not of age, he is no different from a slave [...], but is under the supervision of guardians’ (Gal 4:1-2). Moreover, not only was their justice derived from the merits of Christ who was to come, but the communication of the Holy Ghost after Christ was much more abundant, just as the price surpasses in value the earnest and the reality excels the image. Wherefore St. John declares: "There was, of course, no Spirit yet, because Jesus had not yet been glorified" (John 7:39). So soon, therefore, as Christ, ‘ascending on high’, entered into possession of the glory of His Kingdom which He had won with so much labour, He munificently opened out the treasures of the Holy Ghost: ‘He gave gifts to men’ (Eph 4:8). For ‘that giving or sending forth of the Holy Ghost after Christ's glorification was to be such as had never been before; not that there had been none before, but it had not been of the same kind’ (St. Aug., DeTrin., 1. iv. c. 20)" (EE, III, 1312). 9. And also, in anticipation of Jesus' death Mary was exempted by singular privilege from original sin and filled with grace. This is what Pius IX recalls in the Ineffabilis Deus pronouncing the dogma of the Immaculate Conception: "We declare, pronounce, and define that the doctrine which holds that the most Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first instance of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege granted by Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Savior of the human race, was preserved free from all stain of original sin, is a doctrine revealed by God and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful”. Mary was therefore the most excellent daughter of God from the very first moment of her existence. And, she was a daughter in the anticipation of the merits of Christ. With the hope of having brought clarity, I wish you every good with my prayer and I bless you. Father Angelo

[mod-sicko-100]

#ns4212 #nekoskeleton4212 #ocs #grace #zacharie #zacharie dwell #marcel #conscience #bob #weindel #art

[shtufffy]

#dwell magazine #dwell #a house not build for human beings #zachary edelson #ike edeani #falconer #flooring #wood floor #wood #hudson #allan shope #bluff #southwest #hudson river #catskill mountains #form

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Hope // Pt 2 // Jay Halstead x Reader

Description: What does the team think when you and Jay get taken? 

Words: 1626

Warnings: Sexual Assault

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes

The team had watched you and Jay leave the bullpen, disappearing down the stairs. Now, all they could do was wait until the two of you came back with new information or with two men in custody. They were never quite sure which it would be, especially when you started getting too close to a case. Much like you were doing with this one. None of them could understand why you were allowing yourself to get close to this case. In the past, they’d understood based on your history surrounding the situations, but this was different.

None of them mentioned it, though. There was no reason to. As long as you were doing your job, that’s all that mattered. As the time ticked by, they worked on the paperwork, knowing there wasn’t much else they could do at that moment. Not until they had a confession or an interrogation occurring. 

However, when the minutes ticked into an hour. Then two. Then three...That’s when they started getting worried. Voight was the one to break the silence, saying what everybody was thinking. 

“They’ve been gone too long,” he announced as he walked out of his office. “And knowing our suspects...we’re taking a little field trip. Vests everybody. Brief downstairs in five.” He left the team to talk amongst themselves, disappearing down the stairs to get himself ready. 

“You don’t think…?” Kim asked, hoping it wasn’t the case. 

She didn’t want to see you suffering like that, didn’t want you to have to live with that. She’d been in a similar situation a few years ago, that day clear in her mind. It was back when Lindsay was in the unit, back when things were a lot different. Still, she’d put herself in that situation to catch that guy. There was no reason for you to be in this situation aside from the suspects’ sick minds. 

She remembered when Lindsay had been kidnapped by a rapist. How Jay Halstead put a bullet through her head. Kim didn’t want to imagine what Jay would do to these men if they tried anything with you. Sure, he’d loved Lindsay, but his love for you was different. She wasn’t sure how or why. It was just different, Jay more relaxed around you. It didn’t seem like the two of you kept secrets from each other, being completely honest with each other. 

She walked downstairs with Adam by her side. Things were still rocky between them, but she didn’t want to imagine what he would do if she was in your situation.

Adam couldn’t help but glance over at Kim as the two of them quickly made their way down the linoleum steps. As much as he cared about you, as if you were his own sister, a part of him was glad it was you they’d taken and not Kim. And he hated himself for even thinking about it. 

He remembered the same instances Kim did, except he didn’t know how you’d feel afterwards. But he had a pretty good grip on how Jay would be feeling. Hopeless. If the suspects had gotten a jump on both of you, he knew Jay wouldn’t be able to help you. He’d have to hear you suffering -- hopefully not having to watch -- and could do nothing about it. 

He tried not to dwell on the thought, the idea making him physically sick as a wave of nausea rolled over him. There were a million different ways this could go. There were a million different ways this would end. And he prayed that it was going to have a happy ending. 

Kevin was close behind his friends, memories of times past. Your smile, your laugh. The way Jay looked at you with love and adoration. This unit was truly a family, and he felt like a part of himself had been taken as well. Because it really had. You and Jay were surrogate siblings, loving the two of you as much as his own biological siblings. He hoped they’d be able to find you in time, imagining all the things he could do to your kidnappers. 

Vanessa wasn’t sure what to think in this situation. She’d been deep undercover for so long, only having to worry about making sure she made it back in one piece. Not that she didn’t care about you and Jay, she did. She was just still in the adjustment period. So, all she was sure of was that they had to get you back. You were too nice for not only this job, but for this to be happening to you. It was as if you’d kept all that innocence, that you still wanted to see the good in everybody. She was scared that you were going to lose that. 

Voight waited downstairs, impatient though he’d never let anybody know it. Not yet at least. His team members had been missing for three hours. Three hours was a lot of time for something to happen to either one of them. He remembered the first time both of them came up to his unit. Halstead was brought up because of Dawson -- bright eyed with morals made of steel. He was still that way, though Voight could tell the years had started to take their toll on him. And you...He’d brought you up when Erin left. 

There had been whispers of your name. A woman with morals much like Jay’s, but who tried to save everybody. You took shit from nobody, not your team or your Sargeant, nobody. And you still did the job, still put away those who deserved it and helped those who needed it. He’d heard rumors about what some of your CIs had done that you’d gotten them out of. Some of them were people that he would have made sure got put away. You were so different though, and when that spot opened up in his unit, he knew it belonged to you. 

 He could tell you’d never felt a reason to try and prove yourself, allowing yourself to simply transition into a new unit. Never a new role. You were still the laid back person he’d heard of. And you seemed to calm Halstead down just by being around him. It was no surprise when the two of you started seeing each other outside of work. In fact, he would have been more surprised if you hadn’t. There was just something about how you and Jay clicked that he would never understand. It worked better than he and Erin ever had. 

The rest of the team came down the stairs, grabbing their vests before forming a circle. Hank looked at each of them, surveying to see if he could gauge their reactions. It was obvious they were all worried, and it was his job to assure them even if he didn’t believe it himself.

“We start at the LOA they were checking out. Two story home with a basement in Hyde Park. Ruzek and Rojas you’ll take the top floor. Atwater and Burgess main floor. I’ll check the basement. These men have two of our own, and knowing their history...Be prepared for the worst. We bring our own back, and we bring our suspects in dead or alive. Got it?” A mix of ‘yes’ came back, Voight nodding before they all went to their respective cars. 

-----

Everybody was parked down the street, all within minutes of each other. Voight didn’t need to go over the plan again, knowing everybody was all on the same page. They split into their groups, one thing all on their mind. Bringing you and Jay home safely. 

Adam and Kevin were the two to breach the front door, everybody with their guns drawn. Adam and Vanessa didn’t have the chance to head up the stairs when they heard you scream from downstairs. 

“Help!” One word, and everybody felt slightly relieved knowing you were alive at least. Though, they weren’t sure about Jay. Or what exactly was going on down in the basement. 

Kim was the first down the stairs. Bile rose in the back of her throat as she saw Connor on you, pants at his knees, hands around your throat. A quick survey showed Zachary holding Jay’s hair tightly. Jay wasn’t her concern, seeing he was safe and alive. 

“Chicago PD!” she yelled, Connor looking up, furious at the intrusion. He stood up, beginning to lunge towards Kim. She had no hesitation, firing off a single shot and dropping him to his knees. 

Vanessa held back a chuckle as she grabbed Zach, quickly cuffing him as she watched Kim cover you with her jacket. 

“Y/N!” Jay yelled at you, seeming to be overwhelmed, tears in his eyes. Adam was the one to cut Jay’s hands free, allowing him to scramble next to you, Kim looking at him softly.

“She’s alive, Jay. She’s gonna be okay,” she assured him as he cupped your cheek with his hand. 

“50-21 Henry. Roll two ambos to our location. One suspect with a GSW, two officers in need of immediate medical attention,” Voight radioed from the bottom of the stairs, Kevin standing next to him. At least you were alive, but he wasn’t sure what to think of this situation. He could only hope that you were going to be okay.

They had to take the win, later learning that nothing had happened to you. They had to take the win because at least you and Jay were alive. The only thing that would be left were the memories -- and the scar above Jay’s eyebrow. Yet, they knew you and Jay would be the ones to carry it with you the most. And they had to take that as a win.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagines #Chicago PD #fanfiction

[aworryingdarkness]

Hunters.

"Your guns won't kill it! They won't even slow it down..." The old man's admonition was barely audible over the jeep’s rumbling engine and scattering scree beneath its wheels. His wrists were starting to bleed in his lap as he squirmed against the improvised handcuffs fashioned from fence-wire. He made no eye contact with the search party as he muttered, but the pair sat closest knew the invective was aimed at them. "Think you've said enough for one day, old man." Billy glared at him, weighing the shotgun in his grip. Turning toward the driver without taking his eyes off their charge, he added "Any sign yet, Charlie?". "No, just followin' the trail still" came the voice from the front. While the amorphous creature may have been difficult to spot travelling at this speed, its linear path of destruction was anything but. A line of disease, disintegration and destruction cut through the scrubland. This was at least the easiest part of their task. The charred remains of another house passed by. The old Jones' place. No signs of life. What was left of the wooden panelling looked bubbled and rotten through, as if the building had been exposed to thousands of years of wear in an instant. The dwelling seemed to be frozen in one last cry as the remains of its supporting structure reached feebly for the clouds. The entirety of its contents - and inhabitants - were gone, either consumed or reduced to their constituent dust. The result was the same either way. “There’s still time to tell us why you did it”, offered Zachary, the calmest and the oldest of the group, even being at least thirty years younger than the one they were failing to interrogate. Lines of consternation furrowed into Zachary’s face, but he spoke to the old man without reprisal or accusation. “Did it?”, he responded incredulously, “You think this was my doin’? It was comin’ anyway, I just held the gate open! It would have found a way in, it’s not just me workin’ for the cause! You boys have got no idea what you’re dealin’ with…” “Then why don’t you tell us?”. Billy leaned forward across the divide, raising his weapon slightly but not pointing it directly at the old man just yet. Even in this excitement, Billy knew that a bump or dip in the trail resulting in an accidental discharge could be disastrous if their captive were to be on its receiving end. Captive. That in itself was a joke. The old timer’s eyes narrowed. “It’s here to clear a way for the others. The Old Ones. Soon be their time! You’ll see!” From the back of the truck, Wyatt joined in. “Why’d you call it up?”. A question so basic this late in the day was met with a snort of derision. “I didn’t ‘call it up’, it was here all along! In the space between the spaces! I just opened the gate!” Billy looked to Zachary. “Okay, can I shoot him?” “Not yet, he might still be useful.” The old man was becoming distracted and agitated now, his watery eyes seeming to focus on other places as he remonstrated with the hunters. “You won’t stop it! You can’t!!” “That doesn’t sound useful. Let me know when you want me to shoot him”. Wyatt again. “Maybe we can’t stop it, but maybe this can.” He held up a large book with both hands. Scabrous and ancient looking, a dark leathery binding etched and embossed with barely legible symbols struggled to contain thick, age-yellowed pages that seemed to hang at angles from its fragile grasp, bulging as if to suggest illicit additions secreted between. The old man’s mood changed in an instant and he blanched as recognition of the tome registered on his face, the illusion of smug superiority shattered. “You don’t know how to use that book!” he blustered a little too quickly. “Well then I guess you and your plan have got nothing to worry about! Let’s see…” Wyatt opened the volume casually at its middle, leafed through a few brittle pages and began to read aloud with an air of bemused interest. “Umph n'geena, brahuna hai...” “No! STOP!” hollered the prisoner, unabashedly panicked now. “…stoonto een ah g'tollah, g’facht ah n’geenah?” he continued quizzically, as if seeking confirmation from his companions. It came instead from the front-corner of the back of the jeep as the old man launched himself head-first past his closest captors and toward the reader of the words, an incoherent shriek of denial the only preemptive tell of the burst of energy. Billy was quick enough to assist this velocity by ramming the butt of his shotgun square into the centre of the old man’s spine. Hands still bound, the howl ended as his face made first contact with the wooden floorboards. After he was hauled efficiently back into his seat with neither grace nor compassion, Billy held the quarry in place with the business-end of the shotgun pressed into his chest, as Zachary fashioned a gag from a length of strapping hanging behind the driver’s seat. “Well,” mused Wyatt, “it looks like that’s the passage, alright. And I’d say that’s all the help we’re going to get out of the old fool. We should lose him. He’ll be so desperate to stop us now, we won’t be able to trust a word that comes out of his mouth.” “True,” agreed Zachary, “but we can sure use his reactions as a guide to how well we’re doing…” The jeep began to slow down, noticeably. “Guys?” came Charlie’s voice from the front. “Guys, I think we’ve found it…”. The jeep stopped. Around three hundred yards in front of them, a huge translucent, colour-shifting… thing - defying mundane description of shape - shuddered, pulsed and tensed for what came next, somehow seeming to stare from a thousand non-existent eyes, as the trickling sound of urine hitting the jeep’s floor came from the old man. “Game time…” whispered Wyatt.

#writing #horror #horror writing #horrorwriting #greatones #oldones #old ones #great ones #yogsothoth #yog sothoth #mythos #1000words

[blue-kyber]

So............................................................................. Odd realization here, but now that I know for a fact that I'm 5'4" (yes, I will dwell all maudlin on this high horse forever. The only way I'll be tall), if I ever met Zachary Levi, I'd have to look up an inch more because he is 6'4" tall.

HE'S A WHOLE FOOT TALLER THAN ME.

He can pick me up and hurl me across a room! Or into a dumpster!

Or he can football-carry me away when I get feisty and angry like a shit-talking sack of potatoes!

#zachary levi #he tol #I still want to sing a duet with this man.

[tobyjenny]

Hetaught me some chords in an after school class, and he also made me love poetry, especially Edgar Allan Poe.

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[lyssismagical]

being alive

A Memoir Written For Class

TW: Depression, Dissociation, Graphic Depictions of Mental Illness

It’s 2:07am.

I’m sitting on the kitchen floor, tiles cold under me, eyes staring blankly at the reflective surface of the fridge, a blurry reflection staring back. There’s an empty glass by my feet, bare and goosebumped from the winter air. The tiles are blurred too, but there’s no tears in my eyes, everything always feels out of focus like I’m wearing a pair of glasses with the wrong prescription.

I stared at the girl in the silver reflection. Still a child, but far from it if you count the decades of pain stored in tired eyes.

She looked about as messy as I feel. A half-assed bun of probably greasy hair from having gone one too many days without a shower, strands of hair in every direction. Pimples on a pale face like mountains on a landscape. Picked at scabs leaving marks of dried blood. Dark circles beneath her eyes like someone has stepped all over her, leaving behind dark shoeprints and sunken skin. An emptiness behind dark eyes like an abyss hiding too much underneath for someone so young.

Her hands are shaking, just barely noticeably so.

This is dissociation, she says to me in the reflection, this is the answer to that question you’ve been asking yourself.

And I stare back at her, this reflection of a girl I don’t recognize, a person I don’t know, a pair of eyes, a window to the soul that isn’t mine.

I don’t know what to tell her.

Go to bed, she says, voice so far away.

She morphs into the girl I do know. The ten-year-old me with flowers in her hair and smile curving up her cheeks, eyes sparklingly bright. Skin endlessly clear with little freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheekbones, smile lines crinkling the corners of her eyes. She looks like the version of me I last remember seeing the world clearly as. She’s so wide-eyed and innocent to the world of truths she’ll face soon enough. She doesn’t need to think twice, doesn’t dwell on mistakes, doesn’t overanalyse every little word or action, doesn’t need extra motivation to crawl out of bed in the morning, doesn’t need to put effort into things like breathing or being in the simplest form. She laughs, clear and bell-like, so easy, so simple, for her. Sees the world as something beautiful still, picks dandelions and wears them in her hair with skirts down to her ankles and hair braided down her spine, dancing through fields of grass and giggling into the endless nights when it was a mystery to stay up so late.

I feel like I’ve let her down.

She would be upset to hear of who she’s become, who I am, if she knew, maybe things would be different, maybe there would’ve been a chance for a different outcome, a new scenario, a version of life where I didn’t exist and in my place, some version of that old me would be there.

She wouldn’t be sitting on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night, apologizing to a younger version of herself, world blurring and mind wandering far and wide to the darkest corners of the universe. She wouldn’t sit here like this.

I wonder what she would say to me.

Find the little joys, I think she’d say, focus on the parts you can, you can do anything, I believe in you.

But I don’t think it changes anything.

Why did you start to care? She’d ask, small and young and powerfully innocent in comparison. Why did you change to please others? Why did you stop listening to me? Why did you break our promise to stay young and sweet and wonderful forever? Why did you grow up? What changed?

I don’t think that changes anything either. It’s not like I can tell her the answers. She won’t ever know.

The refrigerator hums as though it understands just as well and the reflection blurs away.

It feels like I’ve had too much to drink.

This floaty, untethered, disconnected feeling is like being drunk except it’s not the warm, giggling, sleepy floating that comes with drinking, this is cold and quiet in a way that’s simply wrong.

Feeling drunk goes farther than just the floating. I’m forgetful to a scary extent. I lose trains of thought more often than I finish them, if I don’t write a to do list every day, things won’t be done, if I’m not reminded, I won’t eat or drink or shower. It’s a part that goes hand-in-hand with the dissociating, the forgetfulness.

I almost forget my old therapist’s name, sitting on the kitchen floor, spacing out.

Craig.

It’s a weird thing to be upset over. I panic for a few moments, searching my head for anything. A pivotal moment in my life deserves a clear memory, I think.

There are little things, like I remember the only chair I sat in and the only sweater I’d wear at the appointments. I remember the window behind his desk, books stacked everywhere. I think I remember him wearing neutral-colored cardigans, but even that’s a little spotty.

I remember two conversations I had with him out of the six hours I spent in that room.

One was when he was asking me questions to determine a diagnosis. He asked me if I had a history of toxic relationships. I said yes, still reeling in the aftermath of Jesse and Dakota and Zachary.

I remember telling him 27 in response to him asking if I’d done anything since the last time I’d seen him.

Craig.

I try to log it away, knowing it’s bad that I nearly couldn’t remember, but it’s fruitless. My head’s too far away to catch, I haven’t felt real and connected in years.

I feel like cough syrup, I send to my friends. It doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the way I feel, sitting on cold tiles and staring into eyes that I can’t remember or recognize.

It’s a scene in a TV show that none of them have seen, they can’t understand. They don’t.

Okay?? They reply, confused and uncertain by what I mean and what I’m trying to do. What’s up?

I don’t reply. I’ll tell them I didn’t see the text in the morning. It’s easier than trying to remember.

Blurry.

Empty. Floating. Untethered. Blurry. Disappearing. Not Real. Fuzzy. Blurry. Gone. Blurry.

I don’t know.

Things are complicated. It’s impossible to explain exactly what it’s like to be in this headspace, to dissociate to this level for so long, it’s hard to remember how everyone else sees the world let alone being able to discern the differences.

It’s like waking up in a body that isn’t yours and trying to learn the ways of this person that doesn’t feel like you or talk like you or live like you. Every step feels like so much effort, like you have to think about every muscle in your body and concentrate to make sure they do as you want them to. Every breath is like running a marathon, reminding yourself to breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

It’s like dreaming. Everything around you is fake, nothing has consequences, you’ll wake up soon enough, you’re sure of it.

It’s like being drunk constantly.

It’s like being a ghost. Invisible, floating, untethered from the real world, on the outside looking in.

It’s just the way it is.

It’s a part of me, this blurry filter, this untethered mind, this floating soul.

It just is.

Presently, I drag myself up to my feet.

It’s 4:29am.

Another night gone.

#lyss writes #lyss needs to stfu #my memoir #tw depression #tw mental health #tw mental illness #tw dissociation

[myficdump]

Yandere!Sucre x Male!Player

This was a request on my ao3. 

Mon cher: my dear

______________________________________________

“I want him..”

Zacharie looked started. “Repeat that?”

“I want him!” Sucre smiled at him and laughed. “He sounds really fun :)!”

“He is fun, but you want me to bring him here?”

“Yes! So we can dance and dance,” Sucre shot up to her feet and twirled, laughing.

Zacharie had to admit that while this wasn’t one of Sucre’s weirdest requests, it was still weird. He sighed. At least it was doable. He stood up and placed his toad mask back on. “Alright, I’ll see if I can convince the Batter and player to come to visit.”

Sucre clapped and threw her arms around him. “See you three soon :)!”

Zacharie hugged her back and promised her that if he couldn’t convince them, at least he’d be back.

He wasn’t sure why she wanted to meet the player. Sure the guy was fun, he, unlike Batter, had a sense of humor. But he wasn’t anything too special.

* * * * * * *

It had taken some time but Zacharie convinced Batter to put aside his “holy mission” for a quick visit to Zone 0. The conversation was an irritating one, but seeing Sucre happy would be worth the migraine he could feel coming on.

He led Batter and the player down to the basement and into the room Sucre was staying in with little comment. “And here we are! Sucre mon cher, the player has arrived.”

The only warning the player was given before he was tackled to the floor was a squeal of delight.

“You’re so cute :D!!!” Sucre pinched his cheeks. “I could just eat you up!”

Batter immediately raised his bat but Zacharie threw an arm to his chest to stop him.

“She’s no harm to him,” he said quietly. “Sucre means well. She’s just excited to make a new friend.”

Batter reluctantly lowered his bat and nodded. “If she does anything, I won’t hesitate to purify her,” he warned.

“She won’t. You have my word.”

While Batter and Zacharie quietly talked, the player got Sucre off his chest by promising her that she could teach him how to dance.

She gripped his hand and yanked him up. Then she grabbed his other hand and pulled him around in one of her dances.

“You move your feet like this and follow my lead :)!”

The player smiled and tried his best to follow Sucre's lead as she wanted but ultimately ended up being dragged around by her. They danced for a long while, finally stopping when the player stumbled on her sugar piles and they both fell in.

Sucre laughs and almost immediately stuffs her mouth with the sugar. “Have some, don’t be shy.”

“Oh uh, no thank you,” the player gently pushes her hand away. He cringed at the sugar and got up. He knew what it was made out of and refused to have anything to do with it. “I already ate and I wouldn’t wish to impose.”

Batter cleared his throat and the player turned.

“It’s time to go. We’re too close to finishing my mission to dwell here any longer.”

“It was nice meeting you, Sucre! I hope we get to dance again,” the player said cheerfully. He patted her head and stepped away from the pile of sugar. Or at least, he tried to. He had taken a few steps when Sucre grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

She quickly wrapped her arms around him and held him against her chest. “No, you can’t leave ):! Stay here and dance with me.”

“Sucre,” the player laughed awkwardly. He squirmed in her hold but her grip was too strong to pull away. “Please let me go.”

“Nope!” She laughed. “You’re so much fun to dance with! Stay here with me and we can have lots of fun :).”

Batter raises his bat and Zacharie’s eyes were filled with fear.

“Don’t, she means no harm!” Zacharie gripped Batter’s wrist and used his other hand to gently lower the bat down. “She won’t hurt him, I swore it. Right, Sucre?”

“Uh-huh! Player’s too pretty and fun to hurt :).”

The player’s face turned bright red.

“She won’t let him go,” Batter growled. “If she is impure, then I have to purify her and save my player. I can’t leave him here, he’s important to my mission.”

“But is he?”

“Of course he is! He’s my puppeteer and I am his puppet. He guides me.”

“Maybe once, but not anymore.” Zacharie gestured to Batter’s arms.

“Your strings disappeared once he appeared in this game. Haven’t you noticed that for once in your short life that you have a will of your own? That you can make your own choices? You don’t exactly need him to guide you anymore and your only mission for him is to protect him.” Zacharie looked at the player, then back at Batter. “You think he can stand up to the Queen?” he said, his voice soft.

Batter was silent. He stood there staring at the player for a minute thinking of all the times he had gotten hurt. He thought of all the close calls his dear puppeteer had come close to death before he lowered his bat and sighed. “No. She would tear him to pieces.”

“What are you talking about? I can handle her. I’m not wea-”

Sucre covered the player’s mouth. “Hush cutie! Zacharie has a plan,” she said as she giggled.

Batter sighed again and his grip on the bat tightened. “What do you suggest I do then? Leave him here?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I expect. I… Sucre and I can take good care of him as you face the Queen. The spectre’s can’t reach here. He’ll be in good hands.”

“What’s the price?”

“Sucre’s life. You won’t harm her and we’ll keep the player safe.”

Batter nodded. “Alright, we have a deal.” Without even looking at the player he turned and walked out of the room.

The player bit Sucre’s hand and she cried out.

“Wait, come back!” he yelled. “Batter, you can’t leave me here!”

But he did. Batter didn’t hesitate a bit and disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

“Please,” the player whispered. “How could you leave me just like that?”

Sucre patted his head. “Yay! Now it’s just me, you, and Zacharie! Let’s have a party :).” She turns his head and presses a kiss to both his cheeks. “I love you, so don’t be so down. Smile for me :).”

“We’re not so bad,” Zacharie said, sympathy in his eyes. “Sucre has enough energy to make things entertaining for as long as you’re awake. There’s hardly ever a dull moment with her. And besides,” he sat down and shrugged his backpack off. “I have plenty of stories to keep us entertained.”

Tears rolled down the player's face as he realized he was stuck down here. The Batter didn’t believe in him anymore and thought of him as a burden.

Sucre wiped away his tears. “Zach, I think he’s hungry :(. I only ever cried when I was too.”

“Ah, don’t worry mon cher. I have something for him if he wants it.” Zacharie reached into his backpack and pulled out some kind of meat sandwich in a plastic bag. “Here, you can eat this.”

The bag was tossed in front of Sucre and the player. She moved her arms to his waist so he could eat but made sure he couldn’t get out of her hold.

Zacharie stared at the two of them before he got back to his feet. “I need to go check on Pablo, okay Sucre? I’ll be back with drinkable water for the three of us.”

“Okay :)!”

She watched Zacharie pick his backpack up and leave, locking the door behind him. She kissed the player’s cheek again and said. “I really do love you, cutie. We’ll be so happy together forever. Safe and happy :).”

#tw yandere #yandere tw #yandere #yandere sucre #yandere sucre x player #yandere sucre x reader #sucre x player #sucre x reader #off (game) #off (sucre) #off (zacharie) #off (player) #off (the batter) #yandere off