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hospitalterrorizer · 7 months

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diary24

9/28-29/2023

slow day.

i didn't do a lot other than talk to my friends and work on a couple new songs, and get an idea for an older one (came from listening to some kazumoto endo (feel goofy even saying that (like, feeling some voice far outside my own, some kind noise super-nerd being like, basic choice, and like, why does that guy even exist in my head)). i should write the idea down somewhere. excuse my while i write it down somewhere.

the idea is something like this:

using ring mods and beat chopping, both synced to the bpm and not (some super out of time stuff would be great) and automation, i can get maybe a really hideous sound that modulates itself, using various plugins that also emulate feedback and will interact with some pitch that's right beside itself. the gating/beat repeating should have distortion after, saturn2 w/ env following so that way i can get it to sound like it's interacting with something (or not sound that way, actually really having it interact).

anyways, today feels sort of good because i'm coming up against an old problem, how do i write riffs, how did bands i like write riffs, how do i learn from that. i want to write some really weird stuff, usurp synapse wrote weird riffs, i want to figure that out. so i'm listening to their huge compilation again and trying to i guess observe how they do it. it's honestly a lot slower than i really feel it, and they don't get quite as speedy between ideas/parts as i do, a lot of stuff is really simple 3 chord moves, half step movements. stuff i use a lot but i'm always like, is that too incomplex. 30 seconds songs shouldn't be concerned with complexity, they're entirely cut off from that. they have things happen, it's a composition of phases.

anyways, maybe i should listen to something different. i'll listen to masonna's goofy psych rock thing. i listened to like one song and honestly it wasn't so goofy, it was really noisy and freakish, and just getting outside of hardcore all the time / hardcore adjacent stuff always might be a good idea. or maybe not. at least the synths will be exciting to listen to on this record. also it has a great cover.

that's just one of the coolest ever prolly.

my gf's mom also brought a bunch of stuff to us because my girlfriend gently complained about not being able to buy snacks at a regular grocery store yesterday (she didn't really care and we aren't low on anything actually) but her mom was so sad thinking about that i guess she decided to bring us a bunch of stuff. which i'm really thankful for, it's very kind. it's crazy how my gf is still spoiled sort of. saying that makes me sound resentful or something, when really i'm just amazed by it. it's not a really crazy sort of spoiling, it's not like, actually spoiling her, the way the turn of phrase is meant to be read (outside of how we always see it) is kind of awful to think about, having thought about it a lot (you spoiled that plant by watering it too much, its leaves have gone off and its fruit is overripe and falling apart). it's an awful way to think about people but the phrase refers to a semi-true thing, i guess, where people are given a lot and so on. anyways it's not like anything is wrong with my gf for being given a lot, and there's not a lot wrong with giving her a lot.

i almost just talked about the one thing like that i really tease her for (or there's 2, and the second one is way more acceptable to talk about) and that seems cruel of me. anyways, the second one is that when she was a kid on the east coast, her mom really would buy her whatever clothes she wanted in the mall, it was really hilarious to hear about that, and how she'd try to walk out with something without paying, and her mom would just pay for it.

anyways i've just washed my face and worked out and stuff. whatevs. or something.

now i'm listening to ejaculation generator by masonna. it would be really fun to try and get some of these really horrifying feedback sounds.

it's interesting how noise people approach this stuff, i always just felt like it was a kind of punk music, noise people are like, i dunno, they want it to be more extreme i guess, than that.

it's hilarious what you can do with a contact mic and everything turned up to 10.

i don't recall if i talked about this here, but i think one of the two "live" things i did (one being actually a live show i djed at in a really fucked up and weird/wrong way, which you could listen to here if you're inclined ) and the other is when i was at an old job once, we had two phones on the line, and i took them both off, put them right beside eachother, and started playing the feedback with customers there, i took a cup, put them in the cup, started playing with that, and that made them feedback in a new and cool way, and it was louder, and then i started screaming into the cup, like shrieks like i was getting stabbed. i loved that. it lasted about 5 minutes. real art terrorism, i guess. invading where people go to eat with something really annoying.

that's fun to do. i didn't even get fired from that job, for any of the reasons i could have been.

when i was talking to my friends today, we got to talk to the long absent friend who has just been working on his own life a lot, which was a joy, he seemed really happy to be there, today. his mom got on him about it a bit it seemed like but that's whatever, he seemed able to justify it for long enough, to her i mean. he also posted a song he made today, he said it's a few months old. i wonder why he won't put anything out, i wonder if he's in a hell of just accruing and waiting to have enough good stuff like i feel like i am in sometimes, or just doing it for his own pleasure.

i wonder who would even find his stuff if he did put it out. he's a quiet person, i am too but i'm out here putting my diary on a site anyone can see it, he's even more quiet than that. it's not like what i'm doing makes anyone more inclined to look at what i actually do anyways but i am out here instantiating myself, as a thing. he's not not, but he's not really interested in that, whatever it means to him / me. anyways this question is more about, who really goes searching thru bandcamp tags, for instance, to see what's up. i do sometimes, in the things i'm into (noise rock, synth punk, pv, emoviolence (not real but kind of real, not in a retroactive way it's just a weirder way of writing pv)) and see what people are up to. i know some other people do, i know a woman who knows a cool local band and she's like, got nothing to do with vegas, that band spring breeding, that's sort of insane to me cuz they are super niche, broadly speaking i guess. the scene here probably, at most, tolerates a presence like that, and says, it's fun in a way but it sure is weird, to something like that. you know. so beyond the handful of trawlers, it doesn't feel like there's a lot going on to get people to check you out. that's okay, and stuff, when you can just freely put things out, which i feel like, in the music sphere, most of us can. blowing up is not a big deal.

supporting/being in a band makes that a lot more complicated, obv, but also there's probably the expectation of loss and suffering for one's own desires/art in that.

anyways, apparently bandcamp got bought out today, that's pretty bad maybe, or for some people it's really scary, and me i'm like, what does this mean, there's a bunch of fearmongering. what i know is that there's gonna be layoffs (bad) and these people are probably gonna crack down on everyone putting their superlong ambient paulstretch records on there, is what everyone thinks/fears. the sample stuff is gonna be rough/awful, i can't imagine what it's going to be like if this makes it super easy to litigate against like, teenagers just trying to flip disco records for future funk, random funk stuff, random post-rock, anything that's on a major at all ever, and i wonder even more about people trying to crack down on "stolen" musical phrases and so on.

i don't really want to be in a world where that happens, it's interesting to me that we're currently worrying about the potential of a crackdown on small artists who, by what now they want us to think have been good graces on not by any kind of common sense (like, if i'm not making money, i can't pony up any money, and if no one cares about whatever stealing someone does, who cares?), have been allowed to create music by stealing the materials (samples daws, everything, you know, the way you get into this stuff at 15 and keep at it for life). stealing here is used loosely and positively ultimately. you should steal.

there isn't a lot of fear over sampling here. for instance this record i have is standing at 28 songs, there's like, i think 2 drum loops on it i got from 2 songs. that's about it, very minor stuff that i think falls under fair use basically. the other records i've made are like that, only with more drum sampling. i really just like grabbing drums. for instance my 2nd ep is full of sampled loops from post punk albums, i won't say what but there's one super iconic one on there, it's like kind of funny to me.

this also is what happened with unity recently, or maybe it's why this panic exists. people who don't do anything but make small things to carve out their own ideas, you know, create art that is meant to communicate from that context they are in at that point, or from a longer stretch of time (gamedev is like that, so is making an album, different in many other ways (games result in a continuity and albums can be/ are often sequences of things written at different points re-arranged, linear history destroyed and made into linear time (and that's not particularly special to the album, that's true for many novels as well, though they also create the continuity a game might have via the narrative (i should not compare novels to games but the other way around, probably)))) anyways, the point is people are making art that doesn't require a lot of investment outside of time investment, meaning, if you are willing, you will learn it. this is seen as a huge loss to anyone thinking capital first ofc, so there's i guess a massive impulse to stamp this out. think about how massively owned visual art currently is with payment subscriptions and things. though i guess like how if you are really really invested in music, you can learn to make music in audacity, and if you're invested in drawing, you can invest in learning how to draw with a mouse or trackpad in mspaint. it would be hard but you can do it. people might confuse that with a passion when it's really just a high level of confidence in oneself. some people might need whatever guardrails they perceive in something like ableton or idk what artists use. clip studio paint and stuff. there's also all that free stuff out there, there's not a total horrific thing happening where options have totally disappeared, it's just that the interest in maintaining those things is like, i don't know if it's dissipating or not, i doubt it is because some people could give a fuck about money and stuff, but i guess this all really corresponds to places to share and have your stuff hosted.

but the anxieties right now seem pretty, i dunno, far away, with the bandcamp thing. i don't feel totally terrified, but i guess i know what could get bad if things do get bad, that sort of worries me i guess. or it does, but it's not the kind of thing i've not got any idea how to deal with, you can find ways to get your music out there but it means you need a bigger personality to get people to see it (i have a tiny one (let's compare personality sizes (that's a good song title in a cheeky annoying hardcore way (which is what i like anyways))))

aside from everything what is there to worry about.

and anyways it's getting late and i'm listening to usurp synapse. i wish i knew what the fuck this guy did to his guitar.

short review of ejaculation generator by masonna since i just heard it:

good, loud, stupid, i like all the annoying sounds, i want more annoying sounds, some of the time at least.

i love annoying squealing noises, i don't know what's wrong with me, i love when notes are right next to eachother fighting it out, or ringing out in uneasy cooperation, however you want to imagine it (or maybe it's just a kind of loving thing).

the guy who plays guitar in u.s. has some vids on yt, i might as well watch them and try to learn, but i know sorta already how he does stuff, or at least the chords he likes.

anyways, byebye!!

youtube

#Youtube

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 8 months

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This Dark Thing That Sleeps In Me - a Magnus Archives AU, Chapter Twelve

This is a DARK AU; it is not a kid-fic, though Jon is young. Bittersweet ending ahead.

Spoilers for the whole show, though this is very much an alternate universe.

“Go on,” said Jonah. “Say your final words.” And he laughed, cruel, cold. “Again. And again. And again.”

Jon turned slowly, looking at Jonah with full memory of what he was, what he’d done, how he’d lied. The rage that filled him now could not be packed down, could not be hidden away.

He remembered.

AO3

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The funeral was still going on. It seemed like nothing much had changed; people were still filing before Jonah and saying things, then filing to the coffin and saying things, then filing to the pyre and throwing things in. The conversations were the same. Annabelle was still dead. Jonah still stood at the far end near the coffin, looking bored.

Martin met Jon’s searching gaze and smiled.

He couldn’t let Martin die. Could he?

Jon blinked away tears. He turned, walked to the edge of the tower, and hugged himself, trembling.

“Annabelle Two,” he said, softly. “I never had family, you know? I mean. I never did. I guess you do know that.”

She crawled down his arm and patted his hand.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I think Martin is my family. And Tim and Sasha. I think they were in a former life. You know?”

The spider was very, very still.

Jon could imagine why. He knew he sounded like he was changing his mind. “I think I loved him.” He didn’t sound like himself when he said it, but that wasn’t true. He sounded like himself when he said it, a self he barely knew.

The spider rose on its hind legs and waved its front ones.

Jon sighed. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to do it. I’m just…” He licked his lips. “I’m grieving. That’s what this is.”

Annabelle Two gestured weirdly, pointing behind him, and Jon knew he was being approached. He turned. It was the big Flesh guy. Jared. “Hi,” said Jon.

Jared studied him. He was huge; misshapen. He bulged weirdly in his suit, and his face just wasn’t quite right. “Jonah said you need to go up there. See him.”

“Okay. In a minute.”

“Now.” And Jared walked away.

Anabelle Two raced up and down Jon’s arm, panicking. Jon looked across the top of the tower. Through the sea of people who might all die; toward the coffin where Annabelle (who had died) now lay, and she’d known this was going to happen, and felt it was worth her life.

That was heroic, wasn’t it? Jon didn’t feel heroic. He began to walk. “Maybe there’s another way,” he whispered.

Anabelle Two clung to his sleeve, just hanging on. He knew she’d say there wasn’t.

Maybe he didn’t want to accept that. His past self had known he would do this. His past self had been part of this. Chosen to come back. Would he really have just thrown Martin's life away without another plan?

People didn’t see him, and didn't part. He had to move around them, or pause and say, Excuse me , to continue toward Jonah. Jonah, who was waiting, wearing a tiny smile, watching him approach, unblinking.

“Why does Jonah get all the power?” Jon murmured.

The spider’s stare had weight.

“What did he even do to become Heart of the End? He saved us, or whatever, but how did he do that? The textbooks didn’t say.”

The spider waved two little arms at him.

“I wish you could talk. I’m sorry you can’t. Hey. Hey. Do you know what happened? How Jonah became the Heart?”

She nodded, but it did not do him any good. He didn’t speak spider.

What had Jonah done to become the Heart of the End?

He reached Jonah. “Yes, sir.”

“There you are. You disappeared for a bit.”

“I hid.” The answer was easy.

“Why?”

“I don’t like being stared at.”

Some tension left Jonah’s eyes. “No worries, Jon, you’ll get used to it.” Jonah patted his shoulder. “Stay with me. I’ll redirect gazes. No need to wander off.”

“Yes, sir.” He was near the edge. What did he do? he asked his past self. Why did he get so much power when he would use it to ruin the world? Why would I give him a crown? What does it mean?

Breeze picked up, plucking at hair, swinging any earrings that dangled. Jon put his hand on the waist-high wall and let Annabelle Two climb off him. She watched him.

“Jonah,” said Martin, walking up to say his farewells.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” said Jonah. “But it had to be done. You’ll see her when she comes around again.”

Martin’s voice shook. “I hope so.”

What did Jonah do? Jon wondered. And without warning, the answer came.

It filled Jon, poured through him: E V E R Y T H I N G

Everything? Jonah had done everything? Given everything? What?

No. Jonah hadn’t given everything. Jon had.

“I know you weren’t actually expecting me to let her get away with it,” said Jonah as though teasing, but he was not teasing, because he was paranoid, and he would kill anyone he thought truly worked against him. And that was not how it was supposed to be. Jon had done this so Jonah would save the world, not rule it.

He remembered, in bits and pieces. Remembered Martin dead, on the ground and bleeding, torn apart by Daisy Tonner. Remembered being so alone, remembered—

“No, of course not, Jonah,” said Martin, because he had to. He had no choice. He had to—

Martin dead, Sasha long dead, Tim long dead, Basira dead. Daisy dead. Jon as the god of this world because of the Eye and hating it, Jon alone and weeping and miserable, feeling like Jonah was the only familiar face left, and Jonah... offering rebirth, offering a reset, offering to fix everything, if Jon would do one little thing.

Jon looked down at his hands. There were lines on his hands. Had always been lines on his hands. He remembered.

“Go on,” said Jonah. “Say your final words.” And he laughed, cruel, cold. “Again. And again. And again.”

Martin flinched with each word, but turned toward the coffin at last, sniffling. “I’m sorry, Annabelle,” he said to her, whether or not she could hear him. “I don’t know what you were thinking. We had so little time. I just… I wish I could’ve stopped you, or something. Why did… why?” His volume dropped. “Why?”

Jon remembered Jonah’s promise. Grown-up Jon had been so sad. Had been so tired. Tired like Oliver. Tired enough to do one stupid, desperate thing. Jon had never been at his best when he was alone and tired. I will make it all new again. They’ll all be back again. We can fix this, Jon. I just need one little thing.

Jon had taken out his heart and given it to Jonah, and in those hands, his beating heart became a crown.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. The Eye hadn’t wanted it to go this way. The End hadn’t wanted it to go this way, either. No one had… except for Jonah. Jonah, whose fear of death had twisted everything. Jonah had not done what he promised. Jonah had done a bad job. He had ruined everything. And Jon was sorry he’d let him.

Jon wasn’t alone anymore. And he wasn’t fourteen, either.

Martin took out a small, thin scarf. It was the same color as his eyes; finely made, intricate in pattern. He pressed it to his cheek, and then he threw it into the fire. It went up in a wisp of smoke, like webbing.

Jon turned slowly, looking at Jonah with full memory of what he was, what he’d done, how he’d lied. The rage that filled him now could not be packed down, could not be hidden away.

Jon

remembered

himself.

And this whole thing was going to be finished right the fuck now.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jonah suddenly began, loud. “We are gathered here today to say farewell to one of our own—Annabelle, of the Web, who served us faithfully until she didn’t. Who gave us drama, and beauty, and loss; who guided this Court as one with true gifting… until she decided to lie.”

Jon knew what to do. Oh; oh, he did... and he knew Annabelle had been wrong.

“Yet all is not lost,” continued Jonah. “She will be reborn, and with her shall come all the blessings of the Web. All is never lost in my world, friends.”

I’m ready to come home now, Jon thought at himself, at the Eye that had loved him all his life, that had never let him down, that had not needed to mark him because Jon was its heart. Jon had been invisible to Gertrude because an Eye could not see inside itself. I’m sorry it took so long.

The eyes in his hands opened, and he sighed with relief. Power surged; power bound and trapped and held under by mortal flesh and hidden memory, and he breathed with joy and exhaled with knowledge as he rejoined and became all that he truly was. He could see… and was no longer unseen.

Jonah froze.

Those closest stared at Jon; a couple cried out.

Jonah turned slowly.

Jon met his gaze. Faced this man who’d lied, who’d taken everything, who’d ruined it all. “You broke your promise, Jonah,” said Jon. “That was a bad idea.”

“You remember,” whispered Jonah, understanding widening his eyes, and he took one step toward him, arm out.

In another moment, Jonah would kill him.

Jon laughed. Then he jumped over the side.

“Wait!” shouted Jonah, but it was too late. Jon caught the last glimpse of Jonah’s face as he did, before he’d fallen too far. Jonah, dead pale, shock on his face, and terror. Jonah had broken his promise. Jon, however, would keep his: he would save everyone.

The screams behind him faded; shouts, cries, his name—it all went away. The whole world fell with him, it seemed, because as he fell, the Eye embraced him.

He was not afraid, even now. I’m sorry I took so long, he thought. I’m ready, he thought. Let’s make this right, he thought, and took the crown from his shirt. It glowed, tingling, fixing itself to his hands like it was part of him.

That’s because it was.

The ground was close.

He was so tired. He was ready. Take me home. He pressed the crown to his chest, and it gleamed, changed, shifted; it turned back to a beating heart, to heat and life and warmth, and melted back inside him like oil into bread, and was gone.

Jon stretched out his arms, closed all his eyes. The Eye rejoiced, and the sky gonged like one giant bell, like a glass cloche hit just so to reverberate all within it.

And right before he hit the ground, everything turned to gold.

chapter thirteen

#rusty quill big bang #rusty quill big bang 2023 #rqbb2023 #tma #tma fic #the magnus archives #magpod #magnuspod #tma au #the magnus archives au #tma spoilers #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #jonah magnus #annabelle cane #tim stoker #this dark thing that sleeps in me

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demonfamilytherapist · 2 years

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HDD Event - Curse Rewrite

A/N: Hello folks, I was disappointed by the lack of angst in this event so I wanted to make my own. And then I added some more. This is way longer and meaner than I planned.

If you didn't finish chapters 3 and 4 of the Happy Devil Day event, there will be spoilers, as well as spoilers for S1 and S2.

This part will be focused on the brothers. Edit: Part 2 link here.

Warnings/Mentions: They/it pronouns used for Valago. Glitched text in the intro. MC is straight up not a good person in this fic due to the curse. Emotional manipulation, verbal cruelty, dubcon non-sexual touching (mainly in Beel's and Levi's). A lot of use and abuse of the pacts, including MC accidentally giving an order to remove clothing (which is immediately retracted, in Asmo's section). Skip this one if any of those make you uncomfortable.

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This was not how you were expecting the night to go.

"That last curse you were under didn't work properly because of the human, right?" Valago laughed with a manic glee. "They saved you from those masks!"

"How does this guy know about-"

"Don't you dare get closer to MC-"

"Valagoooo, don't be mean-"

"I'm not being mean at all!"

You didn't like the way Valago was looking at you. There was clearly something wrong with it, but you didn't know what it was planning. You were surrounded by some of the most powerful beings in all three realms. Their confusion wasn't helping you feel safe.

Unsure what to do, you made sure you were at least between it and Luke, Mul, and Aster.

"I'm going to give a present of my own... wouldn't you brothers like a chance to return the favour?"

There was a light in the room - a dark, pulsing light that hurt to look at and crackled with arcane energy. Valago strained but its smile never left its face.

Levi cried out.

Satan threatened.

Mammon cursed.

And the light buried itself in your chest.

You felt the magic crawling deep within you. It was thick like tar. It was searching for something but you didn’t know what, and it didn’t hurt but it was tugging at something within you and you thought you might throw up when it pulled and-

And you looked up at the people around you, the worried faces of the people that you love, and something shifts.

“What happened?” Satan’s hands fluttered around you, a stark contrast to his normally decisive nature.

“Are you hurt? Is everything alright?” Solomon followed, ready to heal you in a second, warm magic already at his fingertips.

“I’m not hurt,” you said, because it was true. Whatever Valago had done hadn’t injured you. You tried to think, to really assess what was wrong.

“Are ya sure? What’s with that black smoke?” Mammon’s panicked voice cut through your attempts to figure out what exactly the spell did to you. He was too l̴͙͛͝o̴͉̪̔̈u̷̙̱̓ď̴̙. “Hey, you little bastard! What’d you do to MC?”

“MC dealt with you at your worst, right?” Valago laughed. You clenched your fists. “Now you can see them at their worst! I just did a little curse to twist them up!”

“Twist them?” Diavolo snapped. Why did he always sound like he was s̵͊͌ͅh̴̘̓̑ô̷̮͝ù̵̟t��̩̟͗i̶͕̇��ń̶̢͈͗g̵̩͌̕?

“Undo it. Right now.” Beel was straight to the point, as usual.

“M-MC…” Luke crouched down in front of you. His eyes were wet, he looked so very young, and whatever had shifted in you before went right back into place for a moment.

“Simeon,” you said, slow, purposeful, careful with your words. “I need you to take Luke and get out of here.”

“No!” Luke gripped your arms, tears spilling over. Your body shuddered as you fought back whatever instincts the curse was pushing on you.

“MC, are you sure?” Simeon’s voice was gentle, too gentle, c̷̘͉̩̙̍͑o̴̻̽̕ņ̵͈̼̅̓d̷̞̟̬̈́ẻ̴̤̱̀̈́s̵̢͎̞͈͌̇c̷̫̟̉͂̂̍͜ë̷̯̭́̑̍͝ǹ̵͚d̸͎̗͑̕i̷̛̯͈͊̈́̚n̴͔̮̦̰̈́̇̆g̵̨̦̲̿͠ͅ, and you bit back a cruel comment.

“Luke, I’ll be okay,” you promised, gently prying his arms off you. Simeon, thankfully, took him before he had a chance to throw himself at you again. “I just want you to go for now. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“MC, what’s happening?” Lucifer demanded when Luke was safely away. He always needed to be in c̴͇̒o̴̯̊n̷̥̔t̴̯̆r̵̰̈́õ̴̼l̵̰̿.

“What’s going to happen to MC? How do we break the curse?” Asmo asked, voice rushed and shrill, d̸̮͐r̸̙̼͘á̵̢m̷͎͚̅ả̸̡̜ţ̷̮͛i̴̩̞̓ç̴̓ as always.

“Valago, what did you do to the nice human?” Mul sobbed which… was a little grating, but didn’t fill you with anger in the same way as the others.

“I can’t break curses! I can only cast them!” Valago’s voice sounded off in a way you couldn’t quite explain. His movements were too sudden, too jerky. “You’ll have to figure it out yourselves!”

Chaos broke out.

Solomon and Lucifer examined the curse on you, commenting to each other now and then. About how this seemed beyond a lesser demon’s ability. About possible curse-breaking techniques. Only b̸̭̭̲͒ō̶͔̋̃t̵͕̣͌̏h̶̙̝͍̃̄e̴̘̓̃̕r̷̡͕̈́̿i̶͈̦̟̒̔͛n̴̤̖͔̅g̵̠͈͆ to talk to you when they needed to know something.

Mammon and Satan threatened the little orange demon, cursing at it. Loud, angry, p̸̗̌ǒ̵̮ǐ̷͎n̷̡̓ť̶͔l̶̗̍e̸̬̿s̴̮͆s̴̢̓.

Diavolo’s loud voice sounded over everything, making it impossible to properly focus. Asmo’s was similarly hard to ignore, his melodramatic cries drowning out the rest of the room.

Levi, Beel, and Belphie were quieter, but you could still hear their low, anxious voices buzzing away.

“E̸͆ͅn̸̯̒o̴̢̕u̶̬͛g̸͕̃h̸̗̓.”

The brothers were sent to the ground at your word.

Power surged through you. F̸͔̰̩̪̎̂̿̓͌i̶͉̾̇͝ǹ̶̩͆̿à̷̩̿̅l̵̯͙̳͔̥̄̊̂̄͂l̶͍̤̇̄́̒y̷̨̳͈̑̓̒, a little quiet - their groaning in pain didn’t sound nearly so annoying as their panicking. Your chest eased. Your mind felt clearer.

The traces the curse left in its wake lit up through your chest, bringing a smile to your face.

You stood, already moving to walk away but Solomon gripped your wrist.

“Not that I don’t like my apprentice showing off now and again,” Solomon said, forcing lightness into his voice, “but what was that about?”

“I needed some quiet,” you said. You didn’t notice anything wrong with your words but Barbatos frowned and Diavolo looked between you and your fellow human with wide eyes.

“MC, I’m sorry,” Solomon continued. His voice was too soft, like he was talking to a child. “Please stay here until we break this curse.”

You considered it long enough for Solomon to relax a little.

But something within you whispered get them alone, whispered divide and conquer, whispered it'll be f̵͙͂u̵̩͆̄n̵̹̗͛.

And another part of you screamed get away before you hurt them.

“No.” You pulled your arm from Solomon’s grip.

Even with your control of the brothers, you weren't going to be a match for Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos. But you had one advantage over them all.

They never expected their precious human to act against them.

A bright light filled the room at your incantation - Solomon's hand grazed your sleeve, Mammon called your name, Lucifer cursed - but by the time they could all see again, you were long gone.

For a long moment, there was silence.

"Solomon and I will work on a way to break the curse," Diavolo took command. He could see some of the brothers still getting to their feet, Solomon still staring at his hand, and even Barbatos looked shaken. "I need you brothers to find them. You know them and the house best."

"One last thing..."

Everyone's attention was drawn to Valago. The little demon was on the floor, the magic it expended for the curse apparently too much for its body.

"You better break it before midnight. Or else you'll never get back your sweet little human."

Beelzebub

Beel was the first to find you.

It was mostly luck. He'd run right into the staircase and there you were, looking up and down like you were debating where to go. Black smoke surrounded you, distorting the features Beel normally loved.

"Be quiet," were the first words out of your mouth when Beel pushed through the door into the little staircase. The pact came into effect before he could call out to his brothers - but the command gave him just enough room to whisper your name.

You looked at him then, properly. Eyes always soft and filled with affection were instead hard and spiteful. You looked cold in all the places you were usually warm. Your outfit for tonight, which had looked so nice on you earlier, now made you look strange and alien.

Beel didn't know what to do.

He couldn't call out to his brothers. The pact choked away his voice whenever he tried.

He wasn't good with magic, like Satan or Lucifer or Solomon. He didn't have any idea of how to break the curse. He wouldn't know where to start.

And he didn't know what to say that would make you come back with him.

"Please." The pact dropped his voice to a whisper. "I'm sorry we were too loud."

"Beel."

"We'll be quieter," Beel promised. His voice picked up with his breathing, with his heart - he wanted to be loud, but the pact kept him quiet and he was afraid if he was loud it would just drive you away again.

"Beel."

"Or you can sit somewhere else. Or we can move." Beel couldn't control his breathing, couldn't control his words - saying the first things that came to mind, whatever might convince you not to run away again.

Beel wasn't a fool. He didn't think the issue was actually how loud they were, but it was all he could latch onto to get you to stay. If he couldn't bring you to the others, if you left again and he couldn't find you before midnight hit, if he lost you-

"Beel."

Finally Beel stopped. The pact even forced his breathing to be near-silent - which hurt when he was almost panting for breath.

Your expression looked... strange. Beel thought - Beel hoped - he could see some trace of your real self there. Some gentleness.

"You can't save me, Beel."

Beel’s heart stopped.

He somehow ended up smaller than you - he was on his knees, he realised belatedly.

Beel reached out for you and he was so, so thankful when you stepped forward enough for him to pull you closer, face pressed into your stomach.

“Breathe, Beel.”

The order freed his lungs, forced his throat to relax but that only made his silent sobs come through easier. He held you close to him like that would change anything, like at a word from you he wouldn’t turn around and leave, like he wouldn’t be forced to let you walk away.

“It’s not your fault, Beel.” Your hands ran through his hair and Beel shuddered at your touch. “I don’t mean to upset you. If this was something you had to fight, if I was scared and needed comforting, I would always want you by my side.”

“Order me to save you,” Beel whispered. You tugged on his hair - so soft, so gentle, guiding him to look up at you.

“I feel strange, Beel,” you murmured. One hand stayed in his hair, the other rested on his face. Your eyes were distant. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I… I want to hurt.”

“Please, MC.” Beel had felt the strength you gave him when you used the pact to help him. Even if he didn’t know much about curses - even if this curse confused Solomon of all people - if you ordered him to, he could…

“Beelzebub… calm down.”

A pact command.

“No, MC- ah-”

The order took hold.

Beel’s breathing slowed and evened out. His heart steadied. The tears in his eyes cleared.

“MC.” Beel knew he needed to reach you somehow. He knew but he no longer felt the need to.

Despite his now steady breathing, Beel felt like he was suffocating. Peace settled over him. He couldn’t fight against it.

“That’s better,” you said, tugging on his hair harder now. He grunted but followed, releasing you as you guided him to sit against the wall.

You gave his hair one last ruffle.

“I love you, Beelzebub. Do you love me?”

“Yes,” he answered honestly, no hesitation. Your eyes were empty. Your smile showed too many teeth.

Beel trusted you. He trusted you and that’s why he made a pact with you.

He never imagined you could ever do this.

He couldn’t even feel betrayed.

“You’ll still love me while I’m like this, right?”

“Yes.”

Beel’s voice held none of the emotion such a confession would normally draw from him. He knew he didn’t show his feelings a lot. He knew people found him scary because of that, thought his flat expression was all there was to Beel. But he’d never felt like that was all he was.

Until now.

You pressed a light kiss to his lips that Beel couldn’t return.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Beel watched you walk away.

He could feel nothing.

Asmo

“Ha! I knew it!”

Asmo walked right into his bathroom to find you soaking your feet in the tub, shoes laid down beside it.

“It’s where no one would expect to find you, right? But if you want a little peace, there’s nowhere better.”

“You and peaceful don’t exactly go together, Asmo.”

Asmo’s smile flagged, but he forced it back on. He knew he shouldn’t try and face you alone, but-

“Don’t call your brothers.”

Ah. Well.

Plan B.

“Want me all to yourself? I’m flattered.”

Asmo moved slowly, feeling oddly… uncomfortable with your gaze. He always wanted your eyes on him - he wanted you to see how beautiful he was, to pay attention to him, to love him.

Asmo didn’t feel very loved right now.

His shoes off, he sat across from you. The warm water helped relax him a bit - it felt normal in a way nothing else had since those little demons showed up.

Since he couldn’t call his brothers - and because your words still rung in his head - Asmo was quiet and just watched you, his expression contemplative.

You looked fine.

You weren’t hurt. You weren’t crying. If anything, you looked bored.

The black smoke still surrounded you. Was there less than before? Was that a good thing? Or did it mean the curse was further inside you now?

“Asmo?”

You spoke first. Asmo hid his relief with a smile.

“Do you love me?”

And the smile was gone again.

Asmo was scared of a lot of things. Or rather, he acted scared of a lot of things. It brought him attention, and sympathy, and comfort, and he was more than willing to face a few rolled eyes from his brothers if it meant he got to snuggle up to you.

But what he was actually afraid of was this.

Asmo knew about his reputation.

Asmo knew everyone thought he was flighty, shallow, that he was all lust and no love.

But you - you hadn’t ever judged him like that.

You let him cuddle up to you and never expected anything more - and sure, there were times where Asmo wouldn’t mind going further, but it was nice. It was nice to be held, to be cared for, to not be seen as a means to an end.

“Of course I love you! You mean everything to me!”

You were a lot closer - no, he was the one who’d moved. Standing in the tub, hands on either side of your hips on the edge, face close to yours.

Water soaked up to his knees. Lucky the tub wasn't filled very far, or else he'd have sent a wave onto the floor tiles as well.

Asmo breathed in the black smoke and choked.

You watched him cough, impassive.

“Do you though? Or do you love how I make you feel?”

Asmo swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t use your charm on me,” you explained. You reached up, playing with his curls. “Every bit of affection I give you. Every word, every touch. I choose to give it.”

“I know.” Asmo held your hand, pressing it against his face. “And I’m glad. I’m thankful every day that you choose me. That’s why I’ve got to help you now, right?”

Aside from the bubbling of the tub, there was quiet.

Please, Asmo wanted to say, please look at me properly. Please smile. Please hold me.

Please tell me you never thought I didn't love you.

Your hand slipped away from his.

You moved to lift your legs from the tub, but Asmo trapped you in - he didn't know what time it was but he knew midnight couldn't be more than an hour away, and it was better to have Satan and Lucifer working together with Solomon and the royals to break the curse than have them looking for you.

You sighed, blowing his hair to the side - your breath still smelled like the sweet, fruity drinks he and Barbatos had made for you.

"I'm leaving, Asmo. Do something else that's not bothering me. I don't know, take a bath."

Your voice held just enough of a command. His jacket was tossed to the side, hands moving to raise his sweater without his input - his breath hitched, but-

"Stop."

It was the most emotion Asmo had heard in your voice since he'd entered the room. Your eyes were wide, your hands reaching out to him - one made contact, lightly pulling his shirt back down and smoothing it out.

Asmo couldn't make out your expression past his watery eyes, but for a moment he could've sworn you'd looked horrified.

"...After I leave."

You swung your legs over the side, nearly slipping on the tiles in your sudden haste to get away - shoes collected, fabric once again covering your calves and ankles. As an afterthought, you turned on the bath taps again and tossed a pretty pink bath bomb in. It felt like an apology.

Asmo's tears only started, as you commanded, after you left.

Levi

Levi found you, of all places, in his room.

The fabric around your ankles was a little wet, your hair was mussed from the elegant styling Asmo had done for you.

But the most startling change was-

Levi! Finally, I've been waiting for ages!

-the annoyed expression you leveled at him.

"Stay right there. Don't try to contact your brothers or anyone else," you said, the pact taking hold. You were leaning against the fish tank, Henry 2.0 swimming to the opposite side to avoid you.

That, of all things, scared Levi the most - Henry 2.0 loved you almost as much as Levi did.

"M-MC, listen, we've got to, um... We've got to get back to the others. They can fix this."

You tilted your head, and suddenly Levi felt very, very uncomfortable. It reminded him of when he'd gotten you to try on all those glasses - at the end, when you looked down your nose at him, he'd been blushing, but now...

It didn't feel very nice anymore.

"Fix what, Leviachan?" The nickname was mocking. You walked over to him slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, and Levi wasn't sure if he wanted to run but your command took that option away.

"I thought you liked me like this."

Levi was forced against the wall, cheeks burning red. You had him trapped in a kabedon. Your sleeve brushed against his hair, your body heat was near-overwhelming.

It was what he'd dreamed of.

It wasn't right.

"I like every side of you, MC, but..." Levi wasn't good with words like some of his brothers. Under pressure, he defaulted to his favourite quotes from anime. He couldn't do that now, though. This was too important. You were too important. "I like my best friend the most."

Levi took a deep breath. It was difficult to meet your eyes but he did.

He did and he saw you wavering for a moment.

That cruel smile, that hard look in your eyes, both gone - you swayed back lightly, giving him more room to breathe.

"I said it earlier, didn't I?" Levi continued around the lump in his throat. Hesitantly, he rested one hand on your waist, not wanting you to feel trapped but trying to offer comfort.

"I'll save you from yourself if it's the last thing I do."

"Levi..." You looked scared. You looked scared and all Levi wanted to do was pull you closer. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, but if he could keep you calm... if he could bring you to the others or keep you here, where he knew someone would find you two eventually...

And then you were coughing, deep wrenching coughs that blew black smoke past your lips and had you stumbling back-

"MC!"

Levi rushed forward, trying to reach for you-

"Sit."

The order was quiet, hoarse. It must've hurt coming out of your throat.

Levi's body followed it anyway.

Fighting against it was futile, Levi knew. Levi knew but he tried anyway. If he could reach you, if he just get you to stay-

His body hurt. Losing you would hurt worse.

You moved past his hands, leaning against the door as you got your breath back, your little coughs and Levi’s heavy breathing the only sounds in the room. Your eyes were red, from tears or from coughing he wasn't sure.

Levi called your name when you opened the door - did you pause? Or was that just his imagination?

Whatever it was, it wasn't enough.

You walked away.

Satan

Satan ambushed you in the library.

“Very good, detective,” you said. Satan’s hands framed your face, pressing you against the bookshelf.

“I figured you might come here. It’s got some of the better hiding spots.” Satan examined you. He’d found Beel listless and still in the stairs to the attic. He’d led his younger brother down to Diavolo, hoping he could undo the pact command. Satan knew you must’ve done it.

Satan knew. But he couldn't quite believe you ever would.

You’d only ever used the pacts if they were in danger of destroying something or to protect yourself and his brothers.

“Just so we’re clear, I order you not to yell or try and contact anyone outside this room.”

“I figured.”

Satan hadn’t been planning on it.

If you were being so liberal with the pacts, he didn’t want you anywhere near his brothers.

He had to figure out what was going on.

Maybe it was self-flattery, but Satan believed you two understood each other. You saw through his attempts at keeping his wrath concealed and he saw through your attempts to hide when you were struggling.

And he could see you struggling now.

"Valago was quite vague with the curse," Satan explained. He shifted to allow you more breathing room, taking in every change in your expression. "Tell me what you feel."

"Are you a doctor now? We did watch that one medical drama-"

"Please."

You paused, the smoke in your eyes clearing for a moment to really look at him.

"...It's hard to describe." Your tone hadn't changed. It still lacked the warmth, the affection you normally held. But you were talking.

"You're all still very important to me." Satan's heart leapt. That was a start.

"But I like it when you hurt, now."

Satan nodded. He'd expected as much. "Has it been getting worse?"

"Yes." You turned to the library door now, eyebrows drawn together. "I didn't want to hurt Beel, but it was like I couldn't stop myself. It was probably the worst with Levi. I did want to hurt him."

What did you do to Levi? Satan didn't ask aloud, but made a note to check on his brother as soon as he figured this out. As soon as you were you again.

"Or not him, but... it's like I want to hurt. Until... until I'm satisfied."

"And using the pacts?"

"Why all the questions, detective?"

Satan grit his teeth. The teasing nickname had never sounded... well, mean. In all the time he'd known you, you'd joked, you'd argued back, you'd been genuinely furious when it came down to it - but you'd never been cruel.

"You're not as clever as you pretend to be, we both know it."

He said your name, too desperate - trying to reach you again, trying to stop you from slipping back into the curse - but the panic in his voice seemed to drive you on.

"All your curses are pranks at best. Lucifer and Solomon have the actual expertise. Diavolo has the sheer power."

"I'm the fastest learner," Satan said bluntly.

"All the book learning in the world won't change your opinion of yourself."

"And nothing you say will change that you're still trying to fight this off."

The two of you glared at each other. Satan's wrath wasn't bubbling up or threatening to spill over. He was furious at Valago. He hated the curse.

But nothing you said under the effects of this curse would ever change his love for you.

"What makes you so sure?"

With that, Satan laid out his most damning piece of evidence.

"If you really wanted to break me with your words, you know exactly what to say." He rested his forehead against yours, ignoring the way the black smoke scratched at his throat, brought stinging tears to his eyes. "You could compare me to Lucifer. Tell me I'm nothing on my own. Say I'll never be anything but an inferior copy of him."

Even now, the words hurt to say - hurt worse to imagine you saying them.

But you hadn't.

"You can't want to hurt me that badly."

For a moment, Satan felt triumphant. He could see the fury in your eyes - knew it was from the curse. Even the part of you that had been twisted up knew that he was right.

You leaned close, lips brushing against his ear.

Satan closed his eyes. He hadn't beaten the curse. But he'd found a chink in its armour, and maybe he'd have to be satisfied with that. The others would find him soon and he could share what he'd found out.

"Go read a story, detective."

"I'll see you again soon, love."

The pact command drew him to the fiction section, away from books on curses and hex-breaking.

So as the door open and shut behind you, Satan perused the shelves, looking for a human world fairy tale.

Something with a happy ending.

Belphie

Unlike his brothers, Belphie hadn't been actively searching for you - but for his brothers.

He'd seen what you did to Beel. Found Asmo crying in his bathroom, watched Mammon try and comfort Levi.

And in the brothers' group chat, Satan wasn't replying.

Beel and Levi were two of your first pacts, the ones you knew you could rely on. Asmo had never once hurt you like some of his brothers had. Like Belphie had.

Call Belphie a coward, but he wasn't ready to face you. If you were willing to hurt Beel, then who knew how far you'd go to hurt him?

Simeon had returned to join the search, and Barbatos and Diavolo were swapping out depending on which of them was more useful in interrogating the little demons.

Have one of them find you. They didn't have a pact with you, so you couldn't hurt them in the same way.

Instead Belphie was going to find Satan. Heading to the library was the best bet, right? Satan would probably end up there.

"Belphie, keep quiet and follow me."

Oh.

Belphie's body did as it was told.

Smoke still seemed to surround you. Belphie followed along behind, obediently, so he couldn't see your face. He didn't know what your expression was, what you were thinking. He didn't know how strong the curse's hold on you was, but seeing his brothers, it had to be strong.

If you were trying to hurt them, Belphie was an easy target.

You took him to the planetarium.

Whether it was the curse or simply his body on autopilot, Belphie rested his head in your lap. It was as comfortable as ever. But he didn’t feel like he was going to sleep.

Oddly, you looked more tired than he felt.

"Get it over with."

You tilted your head. Belphie bit back annoyance - this version of you didn't get to play cute.

"Say what you're gonna say and then get back to the others. I killed you." Belphie forced the words out. It was only the truth. "I deserve it. So get it over with and then we can get this fixed."

Belphie held your gaze for as long as he could. Tried to look strong, daring you to speak. He would take it. He would take it if it meant this cursed you could be satisfied with the pain you caused and he could get you back.

"Belphie..."

He didn't know what to do with gentle. With a soft touch to his hair.

"I can't deny I was... and am... upset about that." You grimaced at your own choice of words, Belphie enraptured by every change of expression, listening to every word. "But I... I understand why you did it. I can't imagine how you felt up there... I know you were in pain. That you'd been in pain for a long time. It doesn't make it right, or excuse it, but I... I don't hate you for it."

Belphie knew he was playing into your hands, knew he was being dumb, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help tearing up. You two had never really talked about it that deeply, and that was his fault mostly. Hearing you speak with such understanding was better than anything he could've imagined.

"How you acted after, though..."

There it was.

"You never gave me a chance to forgive you. To feel comfortable with you." Your voice didn't sound angry and that was so much worse. You just sounded sad. "It was like the very next day, nothing had ever happened, I... I felt like I was going crazy, because you acted like nothing was wrong. You just cuddled up to me like it was totally normal, like we were best friends, like you hadn't just-"

Your voice broke and Belphie sobbed. This wasn't right. Even with the curse this was all wrong.

You were supposed to be cruel. To be sadistic. To insult him, to call him every name under the sky, to tell him how much of a monster, how much of a demon he was.

You weren't supposed to cry.

"I'm sorry!" Belphie pleaded, trying to sit up but the gentle pressure of your hands kept him in place, trying to reach out but unsure if his touch would be welcomed.

"I tried so hard not to show it," you continued, ignoring his words. "I tried to keep calm. To let you hold me and not flinch away because it made you happy and it made Beel happy and I didn't want you to be mad-"

How long? Belphie's mind raced. Your shuddering form, your rushed out words. How long were you afraid? How many times were we together and I was happy and you were miserable?

How long were you scared of me for?

Belphie barely even remembered the curse. This felt too real, too honest, to be the result of some magic.

"I'm sorry..." Belphie trailed off as you did, tears on both your faces. Belphie was too afraid to try and brush yours away.

"Rest, Belphie." It was a weak command, but Belphie was in a weak state. Trying to fight against your order, working in tandem with his sin, was impossible. "You'll wake up when this is over."

The last thing Belphie heard was a hitch in your breath and footsteps echoing on tiles.

Lucifer

"It must be tiring."

You met Lucifer's eyes from where you sat - on a couch in the planetarium, Belphie's head on your lap, one hand stroking through his hair. It was a scene Lucifer had walked into many times before.

Belphie's tear-stained cheeks were wrong, though, as was your vacant expression. You didn't look quite cruel or vindictive.

You looked... empty.

That was what worried Lucifer. If there was any sort of liveliness in you at all, he could hope that you might be trying to fight off the curse.

But this...

"You've been overusing the pacts. That and whatever toll the curse is taking on you..."

Lucifer crouched down before you, brushing your hair back.

"Maybe Belphie had some effect on you, too."

"Are you going to drag me back to the dining hall, Lucifer?"

In your current state, you couldn't hope to command him. Lucifer could take you away right now - and he fully planned to.

“I want to talk to you first.” Your eyes met his. Old tear tracks marked your cheeks, bags visible under your eyes.

“We can talk after you’re rid of this curse. Solomon already has a few ideas.”

“I can’t order you.”

Lucifer nodded. His pride swelled in his chest. His strength allowed you to rely on him even when you weren’t fully yourself. The feeling was tainted though, by the damage already done.

Valago had brought up Halloween, the masks - how they’d frightened you, could’ve hurt you. Lucifer still regretted being unable to fight off the curse for your sake. You’d saved him and his brothers.

He would save you now.

“I can still order him, though.”

You tugged on Belphie’s hair, hard enough for him to whimper in his sleep. Your expression didn’t change - you still looked tired, bored almost.

Lucifer swallowed.

Lucifer could, if necessary, stop Belphegor from doing whatever you ordered him to.

But that didn’t mean Belphie wouldn’t get hurt. If Belphie fought, if Lucifer had to physically restrain him…

“I only have a few questions.”

Lucifer could only nod.

Lucifer was not naïve. He had seen you at your best and worst in the time you’d known each other. Your laughter. Your kindness. Your fierce determination to keep his brothers safe, even when it was from him.

Your frustration. Your annoyance. The times when you were unfair - when your love for them was momentarily blinded by your anger.

“Did you really love me?”

He had never thought of you as cruel.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Just for something to do, he rested one hand on your knee. Moved his fingers in slow circles until the fabric rested smooth against your leg only to rumple it again and repeat. Lucifer did not normally fidget, not like some of his brothers, but this was not normal.

“Don’t dodge the question."

Another staring contest that ended with your grip tightening on Belphie and Lucifer's quiet resignation.

"It's not did. I do. I love you dearly. I have said it before and I will say it as many times as you desire. My feelings for you will not change."

Lucifer would say it, but saying it to this version of you felt wrong. Lucifer couldn't be sure if this was a true fear of yours or just something the curse caused you to question to hurt him.

He had to believe it was the latter. After all you'd been through, all he had said, Lucifer couldn't believe you didn't know.

"Then why don't you ever try?"

Lucifer knelt properly now - this conversation was going to take longer than he had hoped, and if he would kneel before anyone, it would be you - even this cursed, cruel creature that you had become.

"Explain."

You narrowed your eyes and Lucifer's body tensed, eyes flicking to Belphegor before he could stop himself - he hadn't had to hide himself in your presence for so long, it was hard to shake the habit of being open.

"If Solomon had never summoned me back to the Devildom... would we have ever seen each other again?"

"Of course." Lucifer answered on instinct. He couldn't imagine a world where he never saw you again. Where he let you go. Where his brothers let you go. But almost as soon as he said it, he second-guessed himself.

Lucifer would've wanted to. Even the time you had spent in the human world before Solomon had returned you was too long - Lucifer's patience was running thin, his self-control reaching his limits.

But there was one major obstacle to Lucifer actually going and finding you.

"Diavolo wouldn't have allowed it, right?"

Diavolo, of course, wouldn't have. Regardless of his personal feelings, Diavolo had to consider the peace between the realms - and kidnapping a human wouldn't work to that. Even if you said you allowed it, the Celestial Realm would have their doubts...

"How much have I done for you and your brothers, Lucifer?"

Lucifer couldn't begin to measure your impact. The way you'd helped his brothers become more confident, become happier. The way you'd healed cracks in their relationships that had existed centuries before your birth.

The way that you had reminded Lucifer that he needed to show his brothers he loved them, not just try and protect them.

"You didn't fight for me."

Lucifer said your name in a whisper.

"And you'll always be his pet before you are my love."

Lucifer bit back his temper. It wasn't you.

It wasn't you.

It couldn't be you. These couldn't be your words, set free by the curse - this couldn't be your true opinion, normally hidden behind your kind smile or your surface-level teasing.

Because if it was, Lucifer couldn't handle it.

"Or…”

There is a look in your eyes, a manic glee that reinvigorated you, made you look both more and less like the person Lucifer loved.

“Are you still following the rules of your father?”

Something cracked and Belphie stirred.

The arm of the couch -the wood hidden beneath the fabric - was splintered between his fingers. Lucifer slowly released his grip.

“I want you to know,” Lucifer said slowly, carefully, holding tight to his control, “I will not hold this against you. I cannot imagine what pain you are experiencing right now. What the curse is doing to you. My love for you is stronger than this.”

Your gaze flickered - or was that a trick of the light?

“Give me one thing, Lucifer. You owe me that.”

Lucifer bit back whatever he was about to say, mindful of Belphie still resting fitfully in your lap.

“Give me five minutes alone with Mammon.”

With his guard lowered and the curse lending you its power, the pact slipped through Lucifer’s defences.

“Five minutes,” he repeated. You could not physically hurt Mammon. And even with his guard lowered, Lucifer could not be ordered to harm his brother.

But Mammon had always been sensitive when it came to you.

Lucifer, in a moment of weakness, rested his head on your knee and tried not to think about the damage that had been done to his family - all seven of them - tonight.

Mammon

Mammon called your name, called Lucifer's name, ran through the house - a growing suspicion egging him on, fuelling his steps.

Mammon wasn’t an idiot.

Okay, he sort of was. Sometimes. On some things. He sucked at expressing his feelings, at Devildom History, and at planning out all the essays he had to write for RAD.

And he got himself into trouble constantly.

Mammon was okay with that. He had his strengths and he had his flaws and he had you, who accepted him for both.

He rounded a corner into the music room and saw you, Lucifer, and Belphie in the planetarium.

You looked up and smiled and for a moment Mammon thought, really thought, that Lucifer had broken the curse - that his big brother had fixed everything.

That hope faded when he met your eyes, the smoke filling them.

Lucifer paled and wordlessly picked up Belphie from your lap - their little brother barely stirred, but one hand clung to Lucifer’s chest in sleep.

Lucifer walked briskly past him, head lowered. Mammon turned to follow after him, torn between his brother’s strange behaviour and you.

“I’m sorry. I’ll come for you in five minutes. It’s not them.”

“Lucifer!”

His brother strained to pause his steps.

“Satan’s in the library.”

Lucifer nodded, and Mammon’s brother disappeared around the corner.

He didn’t hear you walk up behind him. Jumped when you held his hand.

“Come with me.”

The pact wasn’t in effect but Mammon didn’t even think about resisting.

As he walked behind you, Mammon tried to confirm his fears - looked for a mark on you, something that shouldn’t be there, something that would tell him he was right and this was all his-

Valago knew about the Halloween masks. He had too much power for the level of demon he was. His movements were uncontrolled, janky, like he wasn’t acting of his own free will.

And Satan - Satan had told him, told him what you’d said. That the curse was looking to be satisfied. That there might be a target.

Mammon counted down the seconds. Two minutes passed in the time it took you to guide him to his own room, settle down on his couch, and meet his eyes.

Three minutes left. He could do this.

“I finally have you to myself, Mammon.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that?” Mammon tried to joke back. Tried to keep calm. This curse wasn’t gonna… it wasn’t gonna physically hurt you, even if it drained your energy. And Mammon could handle whatever it was you dished out to him. And then five minutes would be up and Lucifer would find you and they would fix this.

“Why do you look so worried, Mammon?” You leaned against him. The smoke made his eyes water but your warmth was more important and he couldn’t help but pull you closer. Brushing his hands against your shoulders, pulling fabric gently to the side, trying to find what he was afraid would be there.

"Listen, MC," Mammon rested his forehead against yours, meeting your eyes. Mammon knew you - for better or for worse, you two had been thrown together and aside from your time in the human world, rarely split apart. He hated that it was so hard for him to read you now.

"We're gonna fix this, alright? I'm yer- I'm your first man." The words felt a little hollow. The promise too fragile.

But it was one Mammon had to keep.

"My first man."

Your voice sounded gentle, your expression softened - and Mammon knew that look. Had seen it when you pushed an extra serving over to Beel, when you simply watched Satan instead of listening to him read, the look he sometimes glimpsed if he turned towards you fast enough on movie nights.

Mammon was stupid, because he hoped.

"You haven't exactly lived up to that title."

His brothers called him a masochist, but Mammon would never ask for this pain.

"Lucifer saved me from Leviathan and Satan." Before Levi wanted all of your time, before Satan looked at you with gentleness.

"Diavolo and Solomon saved me from Lucifer." You put yourself between Lucifer and the kid and his baby brother without thinking about it.

"No one saved me from Belphie."

Fingers sticky with blood, the way your bones shifted as he held you closer, your eyes closing and you felt cold cold cold cold cold-

Lucifer walking by him in the music room. It's not them.

Mammon swallowed thickly.

"MC, I... I know I messed up before. You've always been good to me." Always been kind to him. Always been patient with him. Always let him hide behind you or take comfort in you.

"You gotta give me a chance to return the favour."

You looked at him and he saw doubt which cut deeper than any words could've. You teased him. You joked with him. But you believed in him and Mammon needed that, needed someone who helped him study instead of mocking his efforts, needed someone who stayed up with him while he thought up ideas for a collaboration with Majolish, needed someone to pick him up when he fell without him owing you more than a dessert at Madame Scream's.

Mammon needed you.

"You gotta believe me-"

"Believe you? You can't even be honest with your feelings."

And that frustration - that heated anger under the cold malice - felt real and Mammon's heart clenched. Maybe you were pissed at him but at least it was you.

"I'll be as honest as you want." Without even thinking, contact between you far too natural, Mammon tugged you closer, one sleeve slipping down your shoulder. "I'll tell ya I love you every hour. Every day. Just come with me and let Solomon and Lucifer fix this."

"It's weird, Mammon," you whispered and Mammon held your arms tighter, pulled you closer. "The curse wasn't like this with the others."

Your neckline slipped down further, a black mark on your chest.

"It wants you."

A witch's mark. One that Mammon knew all too well.

The witch’s note in the mask box. Pay back double what you owe, or I'll treat you to an even nastier surprise.

Valago knew about the masks. A demon like that couldn't cast a curse that would cause any trouble for Lucifer or Solomon - but a powerful enough witch could lend their power.

This was Mammon's fault.

Mammon could see it - the curse and the use of the pacts taking its toll on your body. Your skin had lost some of its shine, your body swaying lightly in his grasp. Your breathing was shallow and it was all his fault.

The realisation finally made tears spill from his eyes.

The curse had been fulfilled, you had hurt him, and now it had no more use for you.

Mammon caught you as you collapsed. The black smoke hid your features, but he was sure he glimpsed an expression of pure pain.

The witch was right. This was worse.

Twenty minutes to midnight.

Lucifer didn't even get halfway up the stairs before Mammon returned to the waiting guests, holding you in his arms. Your head rested against his shoulder. Parts of your hair were wet with his tears.

Lucifer didn't ask. He wanted to. He wanted to know what his brother had been through, he wanted to know what words had spilled from your mouth, he wanted to make a plan on how to mend the damage that had been done tonight.

But Mammon shook his head and merely handed over your limp body.

Lucifer held you tightly and turned to Solomon.

They could break the curse.

Lucifer just hoped it hadn't broken you and his brothers first.

>>Part 2<<

#obey me angst #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me Satan #can you tell who my favourite little demon is #obey me headcanons #my writing

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glorified-red · 3 years

Note

Could I request hcs for subtle ways the boys express their protectiveness?

Thank you for the request my love! I got to play a fun little game of ‘Eenie Meenie Miney Mo’ for which request to do.

Protective BatBoys

word count: 1600~

warnings: insinuation of someone getting hit by a car, mentions of attackers

I was quite tempted to write Bruce headcanons to this but I must hold back ><

Dick Grayson

Ah, Dick Grayson, the King of small romantic protective gestures

Every time, without fail, Dick will wait until he watches you get inside your house safely before driving/walking away

Its a really cute tick of his because he covers it up with a goodbye kiss and goofy waves that leave you giggling even after you close your house door

But its so he knows where you are, and he can see for himself that you made it safely inside because the second he turns away too soon, you may get locked out, or someone can crawl out from the bushes and nab you

Paranoid, he knows

He constantly wraps you up in things, when you two go swimming he’ll patter up from behind you and place a towel around your shoulders, patting you dry along the way

Very insignificant gesture but he doesn't want you to catch a cold in the A/C or Gotham wind

He’ll do the same with his jackets, maybe even plop his hat on your head when it's gets to the snowy seasons 1. Because its adorable seeing the hat fall into your eyes and 2. Because it'll warm your head up

Scarves too, he’ll even go on a tangent about how cold it is outside while he wraps you in it

Dick will always offer to drive you places, even if you insist on driving yourself to meet up with him or walking there, Dick will still offer because it means he’ll be present if you get into a wreck, sucks but then he can help with first aid

If you decline his offer though, he’ll politely ask for you to take Titus or Ace with you whenever you walk somewhere, they’re trained and he trusts them to keep you company/safe when he can't

Jason Todd

Jason’s protectiveness comes from a place of knowing how cruel the world actually is

He can't stand the idea of anything happening to you

If he has to, he will use his reputation of Red Hood as a way to keep you safe, putting a man at gun point and sneering out, “They’re off. Limits.”

He’d bust a whole trafficking ring if it meant ending a person who touched you or hurt you in any way

But Jason’s protectiveness doesn't stop while he's wearing the helmet

Even when you two are sleeping, Jasons unconsciously protecting you, no matter how you two cuddle, Jason always positions himself as closest to the bedroom door

Whether his back is to the door or he’s facing it, Jason needs the comfort of knowing any person coming into the room would have to get through him before even reaching you

He also envelopes you, he's a big guy so its pretty easy for him to wrap you up in his arms as an extra layer of protection from the outside world

Jason doesn't really like the idea of training you past basic combat or gun skills, hell, he doesn't like involving you in the family business if he doesn't have to

So he inserts himself into any situation you may need protection in

Which is exactly why he starts going to the gym with you as a work out buddy

Jason makes it sound like he just wants to spend time with you or help you achieve your goals faster since he knows how the body works from his Robin days

But deep down you both know his true intentions: he wants to keep an eye on you

The gym is crawling with creeps that have the guts to ogle at you or get too touchy, but having Jason’s 6 foot beefcake of an ass standing beside you the entire time is like an instant creep repellent

Plus, he gets to spot you and make sure you don't get injured from bad technique or from pushing yourself too hard

He’ll even encourage you with innuendos the entire time, but at the end of the day, he’ll gladly walk you home

Tim Drake

Tim is the most subtle about his inner protectiveness, a subtle King if you will

Most times when he gets protective, you never even notice

When you two cuddle in your house, it takes him a very long time to actively fall asleep because he doesn't trust your home security system if you even have one so he forces himself to stay awake just incase anything happens

But don't worry, he’ll eventually get to updating the security in your house

He does get these protective eyes whenever something is off when he's around you, they narrow a bit and latch onto whatever is off, glaring holes into the offending object until its all clear

Its quite terrifying to witness and very hard to miss when Tim is staring dead at the man speaking to you from across the room at a Gala, sipping his drink in the corner

If he feels the need, he will walk up and control the situation, whether it mean inserting himself into the convo or simply being present for it, he’ll do it

The thing with Tim though, is when he's protective, he’s almost always touching you in some way

His fingers playing idly with the ends of your hair as he speaks to a random person who walked up to you, clinging to your shirt/sleeves when he’s analyzing a situation and doesn't want you to go forward just yet, or even as simple as holding your hand as he leads you home

Tim also keeps small snacks/waters on hand at all times to protect you from Gotham heat and pesky hunger, very much like a mother hen because he also carries a first aid kit everywhere

He follows you whenever you walk alone around Gotham at night, he’s already on patrol so he might as well make sure you make it home safe, if anything happens he won't think twice about intervening as RR

If your going out somewhere alone he always always always asks you to call him until you make it to your destination, he doesn't care if he's working on something or in the middle of a board meeting, he has an assistant for a reason who can give him notes

Its become a normal thing for you to send him your Uber tracking link so he can watch it, if you don't send it he won't hesitate to hack into your account just to find it

Damian Wayne

Damian? Wayne? Being subtle?

Its usually pretty obvious when Damian gets protective over you

He’s the type who won't hesitate to pull out a knife out of god knows where and threaten whatever is responsible for you being uncomfortable

This leads to very interesting encounters of you having to hold him back because ‘oh no a random guy bumped into you and didn't apologize’ and suddenly Damian is missing

He’s also incredibly blunt, saying things like “Cover your drink” at galas or handing you one of those hand held tasers before you go out and saying “Go for the neck”

Will insist on training you himself, whether its hand-to-hand combat or with a sword, Damian wants to keep track of your progress himself so he can make sure all your weaknesses are trained

Its also because he doesn't want his grimy brothers near you, so its protective on all counts

But subtlety? Theres a few you can notice after being with him for awhile

He’s very careful when going out around Gotham with you, Damian knows he can fend for himself so he will gladly take the brunt of any possible situation

This leads to him always walking on whichever side of you thats closest to the road, so on the off chance a car derails, he’ll get hit first

Always making sure to match your pace when you two walk together, he doesn't want you getting too far ahead of him because he'd have to run to get to you, too far behind and he might not notice you getting taken silently, he wants you right in arms reach at all times

He has a permanent scowl and narrowed eyes but when he's protective, they get even more prominent

Bonus

All the BatBoys do the same exact thing out of instinct when it comes to protecting you

None of them will hesitate to step in between you and any attacker, pulling you behind them so they are in the line of fire now

Its a subtle action that each of them do, albeit with some differences

Damian will push the attacker back as far as he can from you, putting plenty of distance between the two of them and you, so if anything breaks out, you can run away easily

Dick will hold his arms out, fully covering you but keeping his hands in the fray so if the attacker tries attacking you from any angle, Dick is ready to protect

Tim will grip onto you somehow, keeping his hand right on your bicep or forearm so he can still hold you, he doesn't know if there can be a hidden attacker from behind that will pry you away from him, so touching you is his way of making sure he doesn't lose track of you

Jason will slip in front of you and cross his arms, its a sign of nonchalance but obvious dominance, showcasing that he doesn't need his hands to be intimidating to the attacker, he’ll glare and challenge them so all attention is on him now and not you

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@bungunz

@red-hood-redemption

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guardianofrivendell · 3 years

Text

Reckless

Meludir x gender neutral reader

Requested: Yes! Anon asked: “Hello, can i please get a oneshot between meludir and reader where reader is injured from an orc attack and meludir is looking after them?”

Warnings: I tried to write something fluffy, I really did, just a normal fluffy kind of oneshot but the force of sarcasm and sass is too strong!

A/N: I didn’t know Meludir that well, and there isn’t much information about him besides that he’s from the Mirkwood guard, so I just went with my own interpretation of his character. This was also a request that was long overdue (by now all of my requests fall into that category, I AM SO SORRY).

“I can’t believe we’ve waited so long,” Meludir chuckled, gently wiping the hair out of your face.

You were both relaxing together at the edge of the forest, right at the other side of the bridge where the trees stopped and the palace grounds began. It was one of the more quieter spots in the kingdom, away from all the hustling and bustling of the palace, but still close enough so you would notice if something was wrong. Your sense of duty as a member of the Mirkwood Guard was never far away, even if you had some time off.

Meludir was sitting with his back against a tree, your head resting in his lap, your eyes closed. One of his hands was intertwined with yours and the other one was now lazily going through your hair. For a moment it felt like it was just the two of you, and time stood still.

“Maybe we were a little too blind to see what was right in front of us,” you said in response, and brought the hand that was going through your hair to your lips to kiss it, marveling at the softness of his skin. “But I’m glad our eyes finally opened, Meludir. I don’t think I could have gone another day dancing around each other, meleth nin.”

Meludir hummed softly and placed a kiss on your forehead. “I could not agree more. Gi melin, mîr nin. An uin.” (I love you, my treasure, forever)

He then started singing to you, his voice soothing and barely above a whisper. You focused on the caresses of his thumb on your hand, and when his fingers started gently scratching your scalp, you felt yourself slowly slipping away.

“Sleep, meleth nin. Sleep, my one true star.”

The high-pitched scratching of a chair dragging across the floor pulled you out of your more than pleasant dream.

You desperately tried to focus on the last images which were still lingering in your mind but alas, the loving words sung by Meludir were slowly replaced with the soft thumping of a massive headache and your head was no longer resting on his comfortable lap but on a fluffy pillow instead. Which was also nice but, you know, not the same.

Someone took your hand in theirs, followed by a soft squeeze. No, no, no, you weren’t ready to wake up yet! You weren’t done with that dream! Who needed the cruel reality where your best friend was just that, your best friend - with the emphasis on friend - while in your dreams he was your intended? So hello dreamworld it was!

You tried to turn on your side so you could try and go back to sleep, but as soon as your right leg shifted just the tiniest bit, a shot of pain went through it, setting it on fire and making your body go rigid.

Okay, so moving was a big no no. What happened to you?

You inhaled a little deeper to try and breathe through the pain, when the scent of herbs and starched linen filled your nose. Wait a minute... The pain in your leg, the smell of herbs and linen… This was not your own comfortable bed you were lying in!

You were in the healing wing!

Okay… Maybe you should open your eyes and check? Just to be sure?

But you were rather comfortable if you were being honest - if you didn’t count the slight throbbing in your head and your leg that was still hurting - and as long as your eyes remained closed, you didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of whatever happened to you.

Better make the most of it and try and sleep some more!

But alas… there was no rest for you when flashes of what had happened shot through your head, making you forget about the pain for a moment.

You had been on a patrol through the deeper parts of the forest with your friend Meludir and a few other guards when you’d stumbled across a couple of spiders. Despite being far outnumbered by the vile creatures, you came out victorious, but you couldn’t prevent some of the less experienced guards from getting hurt. While you were taking care of their injuries, Meludir had spotted an orc pack in the distance.

So of course you had to go after them… By yourself, leaving a very upset Meludir with the wounded. You’d deal with him afterwards. He will come around eventually, he always did. That’s why you were such good friends.

You were all about impulsive decisions. It’s what made you join the Mirkwood Guard in the first place and usually that turned out for the best. This time? Hmm… not so much.

You were caught off guard during the fight and suffered a stab wound in your leg because of it, there were simply too many Orcs for you to face alone. Oh you could almost hear Meludir’s ‘I told you so’! While you were distracted trying to get the dagger out of your thigh as soon as possible - afraid it was poisoned - one of the remaining Orcs saw its chance and charged at you. Your reflexes were too slow and you failed to deflect the hilt of his sword. That’s when the lights went out.

“Y/N?”

Another squeeze in your hand.

Seriously, how impatient can someone get? You were sleeping! Or trying to, your leg was still hurting after all. Didn’t they teach them how rude it was to wake a sleeping, injured person? Not good for the healing process!

But the sounds surrounding you were getting louder, reverberating against the insides of your skull and making your head throb even worse. Guess that blow to your head actually did do some damage there. Better keep those eyes closed for a while longer, you thought.

But you were also curious, and you couldn’t help trying to concentrate on the sounds closest to you. You could hear a voice talking softly to themselves, it sounded oddly familiar, it had sung to you in your dream not ten minutes ago. Meludir…

You suddenly remembered who exactly you were dreaming of a few moments ago. Oh Eru, you didn’t talk in your sleep right?!

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

Yeah, that was Meludir alright. You could almost hear the smirk coming through his voice. The hand covering yours was probably his too.

Oh, he was not going to like this. He’s probably worried sick, or angry. Or both. Either way, you were in trouble.

You opened your eyes a little to take a small peek. If there was even the slightest hint of anger on his face, you were going to pretend to be asleep for a little while longer.

Meludir seemed relaxed at first sight, his elbows were resting on his knees, his hands holding onto your left one. He was still wearing his uniform, covered with blood stains from the encounter with the spiders, and you noticed some black Orc blood as well. But he was unharmed, thank the Valar.

His dark eyes were already staring at you as soon as your eyes met his, boring into yours with such an intensity that you couldn’t help but look away in shame... Busted.

“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” you tried to joke, trying to assess his current mood. He looked like he was relieved to see you awake. This might not be so bad after all.

Oh how naive could you be...

“Now that you’ve finally opened your eyes...” he began.

The relief that was etched on his face slowly turned into anger. Uh-oh.

“What were you thinking, Y/N?!” he whisper-shouted, smacking your arm.

“Hey hey, no assaulting the injured!” you protested, grasping your arm.

“Your arm is fine! Wish I could say the same about your leg and your head,” he huffed.

You rolled your eyes and let go of your arm.

“Both are still attached to my body so clearly you are overreacting, Meludir!”

“I am overreacting? Who exactly went after an entire Orc pack by themselves?! You! And without even telling me, you just ran off!” he ranted, seeming to forget he was in the healing wing. “You could’ve died, Y/N!”

“But I didn’t,” you countered.

Meludir rushed to stand, his swift movement unbalancing the chair.

“But you could have! I could have lost you!” he snapped, his hands going through his dark hair in frustration.

You didn’t know if he said that last sentence to himself or not, but this was the first time you saw him in such a state and you didn’t know what to think of it.

You hated it when Meludir was angry at you. He just had to get it all off his chest, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you liked it when he yelled at you.

One of the healers nearby reprimanded him for raising his voice, and that seemed to calm the Mirkwood Elf a little. He looked at you apologetically.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, I was just- Never mind…” He took a seat on your bed this time, carefully as to not hurt your leg. “Tell me, how are you feeling?” he asked, taking a deep breath.

Oh. Okay, we finally have worried Meludir. That’s a good thing. You could work with him.

“Killer headache and as long as I lie still, I should be fine. I’ll be back up in no time.”

“You had me- and us, you had us worried there, Y/N.”

Meludir’s hand wrapped around yours again. Weird, since when did you guys start to hold hands this much?

“Awww, you were worried about me?” you teased him, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your stomach when you looked at your joined hands.

“Y/N, I found you unconscious and bleeding on the ground with Orcs leaning over you. Of course I was worried!” he raised his voice, his eyes wide in concern. “You were out for several hours!”

After a few seconds Meludir let go of your hand and sighed.

You finally got a good look at him and you noticed his hair was messy, some strands sticking to the side of his head. He looked tired, you didn’t think you ever saw him tired before. He was a complete mess. Very unlike him.

The poor Elf had probably been at your side the whole time. Guilt started settling in your stomach.

“I’m sorry I made you worried,” you apologised, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Meludir chuckled. “Yeah, we both know that’s not going to happen.”

You lifted your head a little to look around, and you were surprised to see the other beds empty. Where were the other guards?

“How are the others?”

“Some scratches and minor injuries, a few spider bites. Nothing the healers couldn’t fix. You were worse off than them,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You let your head drop back into the pillow dramatically, relieved to hear the others were fine. But something still bothered you.

You rolled your head to the side to look at him and pointed at his chest.

“Why is there Orc blood on your uniform?”

“Well, someone had to finish what you started.”

Is that a smirk you saw? The cheeky bastard!

“Oh, just you wait until I get back on my feet, I’ll happily remind you who’s the better fighter,” you challenged him.

“That’ll take some time, the healers said you can go to your own chambers once you wake up, but…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead looking at you in apprehension.

“What? What’s with the dramatic pause?”

“You have to stay off guard duty for at least two weeks. Orders from the healers and King Thranduil.”

“What?” you gasped, and you winced when you sat up a little too fast and careless, hurting your leg in the process. Your hand flew towards your thigh and you saw Meludir’s hands doing the same.

“Don’t hurt the messenger! Or yourself!” he joked, but you didn’t miss the slight hint of fear and worry in his eyes. Good.

“Meludir,” you whined, dragging out his name, “you don’t understand! I’ll die out of boredom!”

“Your wound needs healing, Y/N. You cannot use your leg and you need your rest.”

He grabbed your hand and traced your knuckles with his thumb.

“And in the meantime I’ll be there to take care of you.”

Oh. Oh.

Well in that case...

He squeezed your hand again, and smiled at you. It lit up his entire face, and you couldn’t help but mimic his expression. Maybe with him as your private nurse it wouldn’t be so bad after all. The prospect of being carried around by Meludir all the time made it all seem almost enjoyable.

“But before I carry you to your chambers, I need you to explain something to me first, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course, what is it?”

The corner of his lip twitched and his entire demeanour changed.

“Why did you call me ‘meleth nin’ in your sleep?”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter @aredhel-of-gondolin @leethology @elvish-sky @moony-artnstuff @kirenia15 @hey-its-nonny @moarfandomtrash @beenovel

#Meludir x reader #Meludir x gender neutral reader #Meludir #The Hobbit #The Hobbit Oneshot #The Hobbit fanfiction #The Hobbit Imagine #Meludir Oneshot #Meludir Imagine #Mirkwood #Mirkwood Guard #Mirkwood Elf

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bunnirs · 4 years

Text

Yandere! Gon and Killua with a S/O who tries to leave

Requested by: Anon!

“I don’t know if you do any yandere stuff but if you do I was wondering how would yandere killua and gon react to thier s/o trying to leave them for Accidentally Cheating. Thx love your blog”

First Gon and Killua request!! I’m so excited! For the sake of all things holy, ALL CHARACTERS WILL BE AGED UP A BIT. especially with the cheating thing 👉👈 UMM ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST EVER YANDERE TYPE THING SO IM SORRY 😭

Gon:

Alright this dude doesn’t see anything wrong with the fact that he cheated

HE THINKS ITS NORMAL??

And to think you’d get so upset over him ‘cheating’ on you??

He would never! He was just being ‘nice’ to one of tourists of Whale Island

A little to nice.

He’s the type of Yandere that thinks what he does is completely fine! He thinks he’s doing the right thing!

So that’s where you had enough.

Gon was a lunatic and you had to get away

Maybe you’d call Leorio or Kurapika, they’d help you

That’s all you had to do

Get to a pay phone and dial Leorio or Kurapika

So while Gon had left to do God knows what..

You packed your shit and walked out the door

Surprisingly.. you got to the pay phone rather easily

Your paranoia had shot up with the risk of getting caught

Like 📈📈📈📈📈

You made the decision to call Kurapika. He was more serious with this stuff.

You waited for Kurapika until it was dark out

But he came all the same

But you hadn’t expected to see Gon right behind him

That’s right. Gon had said something about visiting Kurapika. Shit.

You were an idiot not to pay closer attention

Fuck fuck fuck he looks mad

His eyes were avoid of anything,,,

His soulless hues stared into your own, and you felt like you could throw up

Kurapika seemed rather worried, asking what happened while Gon was gone

You couldn’t tell him about Gon being a psycho

He wouldn’t believe you.. right?

You made the choice in saying that someone had tried to hurt you, and with Gon away, you didn’t know what to do

Kurapika sighed and said he’d get a hotel and would scout the island for any suspicious behavior,,,

But he didn’t know that Gon WAS the culprit.

Soon after that, you went home with Gon.

“....You lied to him, Y/N.” There was a pregnant pause before your name, almost like it was hard for him to pronounce. “You never lie.”

“...Gon....” You said quietly, not prepared for whatever the hell he was going to say.

“Is this about the woman?” Gon narrowed his eyes at his feet, which moved as the both of you took the road to his house.

“No I just-“ you went quiet, not knowing what to say. Make something up. Fast. “I just wanted to.. get away from the island a bit.”

“Get away?” Gon’s dark expression changed into one of confusion. “Do you not like it here?”

“No! I like it here!” You said abruptly, your eyes widening. “It’s just, I was thinking of visiting my parents! See what they’re up too!” You nervously laughed, praying he didn’t notice your smile faulter.

“...Oh well...that’s easy.” Gon smiled at you, and for a second, you thought you did something good. “They’re up to nothing.” His eyes darkened, his smile widening a bit.

“Nothing?” You questioned, confused.

“They’re dead.” Gon hummed. “They kept trying to get in my way.. so I put them out of their misery. They missed you a lot.. and kept saying I kidnapped you! Which isn’t true right?”

You didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. The only thing that escaped your mouth were the harsh sobs, which seemed to shake your whole body. You fell to the ground, the rough asphalt slicing your knees, the stinging couldn’t compare to the state your heart was in.

“...Oh..” His voice lowered, the slight evidence of worry laced his tone. “.....Can you not speak..?” He grabbed your hand, kneeling before you.

You smacked his hand away, falling onto your back. “G-get the hell away from me!” You screamed, your hands slipping on the bloodied gravel below you. You kept trying to stand up, but it seemed that gravity pushed against you even harder than before. “Go away! For gods sake just leave me alone!”

He stared at his hand for about a minute, his mouth wide and agape. “Leave.. you alone? While your upset?” He seemed hurt, his eyes swelling up, tears appearing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you like this! You’re hurting!”

“Because of you! I’m HURTING BECAUSE OF YOU!” You screamed in his face, somehow gaining the strength to sit up.

“.......I didn’t hurt you! I would never hurt you!” His voice gained in volume, almost like he was panicking. “I just did what was best for both of us!”

“You did what was best for you!” You shoved your finger into his chest, your nail almost bending due to the pressure. “You never think about me! You force me to stay with you! I never wanted something like this! I-“

“Shut up.” Gon said suddenly, shadow overcasting his facial features. “Everything I do is for you... don’t you dare say it isn’t!” His hand quickly grabbed your wrist, the sickening sound of bone being crushed seemed to echo in your ears.

“Y-you’re hurting me... right now... you’re hurting me..” you whispered, trying your best not to cry even more. Your head already hurt from the screaming, the pain adding to your desire to pass out.

“You don’t know real pain.” He said coldly. “But you’ll find out soon.”

That’s all you heard before you eyes seemed to close, your body falling forward into someone’s warm embrace, the air being knocked out of you.

“But everything I do... is for you.. Y/N.”

Killua:

Thing is I don’t see him cheating :(

He’s so closed off as is, so it’s surprising he’s in love with you anyway!!

He’s definetly the Yandere who thinks that you need him

Like you’d be in danger without him

He’s definitely convinced himself that you’d die if you weren’t with him

And that makes him so friggin sad

He wants you to be happy

But he wants you to be safe first.

So, if you try to escape, that’ll make him even more broken inside

He’s a tragic yandere tbh

Wants to give you happiness and love, but he can’t let you out of his sight 😭

So you probably try to leave when he kills someone that was close to you

Probably a guy friend of yours

He felt like he was dangerous, and couldn’t have him taking you away

So he murdered him on the spot with a quick hand through the heart, his nails bloodied.

That was the last straw. You were living with a murderer.

How you would get out? You had no idea

You were in the Zoldyck Mansion. Locked away.

If anything, you could try talking to Canary. She liked you. A lot.

So that’s what you did. You told Canary everything.

She believed you almost immediately. She knew the Zoldycks were cruel... Killua included, no matter how much she liked him.

She’d try to smuggle you outside the gate

Hopefully the security guard would understand

That’s what got you here, standing from right inside the testing gate, Killua before you.

Canary was long gone. She had to stop the butlers from following you.. so you were alone.

“....What are you doing so far from home...?” He questioned, his eyes widened at the sight of you with bags in your hands. “It’s dangerous out here.”

“Killua, we’re inside the gate. You know it’s plenty safe out here.” You narrowed your eyes, nails digging into the leather holsters of your bag. You couldn’t back down now. “Besides, I can protect myself if need be.”

“.....Of course you can. I don’t doubt your abilities.” Killua rolled his eyes, his attitude returning to normal. “I wouldn’t date someone who can’t protect themselves.”

“....Then why don’t you act like that?” You felt a pang in your chest. He made it seems like you were weak.... He made it seem like you were helpless. Why would he do that?

“Act like what? Protective? I can’t do that?” He questioned, his defensive tone making itself clear.

“That is not what this is.” You countered, stepping back a bit. “You know this isn’t you being protective! You act like I’m fragile! Some glass vase that’ll break if someone pushes me to hard! I’m not! I’m a professional hunter just like you!”

“...You don’t act like it.” He pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“How can you be so childish right now!? This is why I need to leave!” You stepped forward, your voice gaining in volume.

“...Leaving is a need? Are you sure you just don’t want it?” He stepped towards you, his voice getting low. He was definitely getting pissed off now.

“I haven’t been outside the gate in years Killua! You know how ridiculous that sounds?! Last time I interacted with someone from outside this gate, you fucking murdered them! He was my friend!”

“He was trying to hurt you!” Killua responded, his eyes darkening. “He was inviting you outside the gate! And by yourself no less! He could’ve hurt you!”

“Going out the gate isn’t a death sentence! I need fresh air Killua! I need to see people!” You continued to yell, throwing your hands up in the air dramatically, the bag in your hand almost being flung off to the side.

“You see my family everyday! They’re people!” Killua scoffed. “barely...” he muttered to himself, getting lost in thought.

“What if I don’t want to see your family anymore?! What if I don’t want to see you?!” You gasped right after the words left your mouth, hands covered your lips, almost in disbelief of what you had just said.

As your thoughts consumed you, you felt a slight pain in your abdomen, your body falling to the ground. Your bags cluttered around you, creating what ironically looked like a crime scene. He had just pushed you. That’s never happened before.

Killua stood above you, his eyes pulsating with dark intent, his aura covering for what seemed like miles. “....Don’t you ever say that!” He yelled out, tears almost appearing in his empty voids. “I might believe it one day! That you don’t need me anymore!” He grabbed the collar of your shirt, so his eyes could look into yours. “I can’t lose you like everyone else! Don’t leave me behind! I used to think you needed me but now I think it’s the other way around!” He cried out, tears threatening to spill. “I have to protect you with everything I have! I’ll continue to kill the people who try to take you away! So please don’t make this hard! I know you want to leave! I understand! But that can’t happen!”

You were quiet, your body feeling limp as he had hit a sensitive point on your body. “O-okay...” you muttered out, tears brimming the corners of your eyes. “I’ll stay.... I-“

Before you can finish, Killua hugged you tighter than ever before, knocking the air out of you. You felt like you could pass out, that feeling soon coming to reality as black dots filled your vision. He had somehow managed to manipulated you again. His worry getting the best of you.

Curse you for being so damn sympathetic.

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ephemerlskies · 4 years

Text

constant craving | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: drabble series, angst, unrequited love, idiot!jungkook, idiot!oc, basically everyone's an idiot

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: unreciprocated pining, explicit language, themes of hopeless romanticism (!!), (slightly) unedited

⇢ summary: your best friend decided to confide in his best friend on how to win his girlfriend back after a fight. you tell him exactly what to say to her, however he is unaware that what you were saying was a sincere delivery of your once undeclared love.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: hello my little loves!! this was definitely ;) not ;) an impulse write and release ;) ;) sorry for being so inactive lately. i've been focusing on myself (i know how cliche that sounds but it's true). anyway, enjoy this incredibly angsts fic i wrote at 2 am for absolutely no reason at all other than i'm an emotional sadist and a masochist. love u!!!! <3

part one: control

He was coming over for the third time this week. Third time. Three times is two more times than he'd gone over his girlfriend's house, but you did everything in your power to convince your inconvincible heart that it meant nothing. Friends see each other more than their girlfriends, right?

It was making a racket in your chest, that muscle that strained much harder for a man who had his pumping for the girl of his dreams.

But, he was coming over for the third time this week.

The first time he said this visit ranked, in his words, 'out of the question' on the degree of necessary that he come over and show you Star Wars. You played a good game of reluctance when asking if it was the entire series or just one movie, and in your head, you hoped to God it was the entire series. For him, you'd watch the series four times over if it meant you sat through this outrageously nerdy movie next to the even more outrageously nerdy love of your life.

The second time was particularly funny to you. He called while you were cooking dinner, almost as if he was in stride with you in a way that was an ounce too synchronized to be platonic, and asked if you were whipping up a delicious meal that he could mooch off of. Knowing he was a terrible cook, plus the fact that when he begged so politely you felt your posture unbind into to a puddle, you more than happily obliged.

This time, the circumstances made it harder to say yes, but not yet impossible. And it was a second or two before you heard that knock on the front door that had your once pounding heart come to a complete halt. It was still, waiting for you to make a decision.

Since it was Jungkook, of course, you'd say yes. And your heart would continue beating. Beating, as in sending sharp jabs that stained the inside of your chest with bruises. Beating, as in when the time came, the final blow of your constantly craving heart would devastate your entire being.

"Thank you so much, ___. God, I'm such an idiot." He walked in with all the confidence of someone who was a bit too familiar with your company. Jungkook's feet reintroducing themselves to your floors in the same manner as he would the night before, and the night before that, and the countless nights you kept secured in your collection of memories. As if he belonged there; as if he was coming home.

"An idiot with a great friend." That last word nearly withdrew the bile you had been ever so gracefully holding in.

"Yeah yeah." And he was comfortable with that same word, 'friend', that deepened your bruises into scars. He had absolutely no clue. Idiot. "I can't believe I broke up with her. I was so angry and acted on that instead of logic. Fuck, why would I do that to myself? I love her."

"Well, you never know. Maybe..." You hated yourself for not resisting the selfish temptation that was about to fall from your lips. The words you've been internally screaming to him to leave her and fall in love with you instead were diluted to something much more tame when your tongue formed them into sound.

"Maybe it was for the best. Maybe you guys are better off apart? To, um, grow or whatever."

"No." He said that with too much certainty and too little hesitance and just enough conviction to sink another wound in the organ exhausting itself in your chest. "She's the one. I know it"

"Jungkook."

He looked at you with all the earnestness of a man who carved his utmost and unchanging dedication to her. A look that any love-induced sap would kill for. A look he would never direct towards you.

Your eyes weren't under your control as of now. The glue that held them to his eyes, his lips, his hair, and every other part of him you dreamed of was more than a marathoned yearning. It was an adhesive twelve years in the making, not showing the slightest sign of wearing away.

"The way you love is something to die for..." And then he smiled at you, but still not for you.

You were utterly crushed.

"She'll take you back in a heartbeat. I mean, she has a brain, so of course, she will. Anyone would."

I would.

"I hope you're right." The couch was four feet wide at most, but there was an impressively vast space between you and the man who was sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what to say? You know I suck with words."

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Anything."

If breaking hearts were a crime, then Jungkook would have much to atone for. You'd be convicted as a willing accomplice for holding on this long. Up until this point, you've let every small glance, every shy smile he sent your way, every eyebrow twitch conveying a meaning only you knew well enough to retrieve him from whatever awkward situation he needed rescuing from, every accidentally brush of his hand against yours, every purposeful embrace that lasted so long your tears stained his right shoulder string you into a knot of miserable, unrequited love.

And up until this point, you had hope he would choose you.

Each ring of his phone worked in tandem to reduce your undying devotion to Jungkook into a compressed seed of denial.

I don't love him. He's just my best friend.

Your pulse pronounced itself loudly in your ears, as a not-so-gentle reminder of how much you hated him for loving him. Somehow, your heart beat faster. Then again, anything was possible when it came to him. Anything except the miraculous event of him hanging up, declaring his love for you, and living in the land of happily ever after that only existed in your deluded imagination.

"Hey Irene! I'm so fucking glad you picked up."

He gave you that look. With the arched eyebrow, his widened doe eyes, and the slightly hung jaw, you read each feature better than words and nodded to signal you knew exactly what he needed.

"I'm sorry about what happened." You said, in a whisper, though the deflated volume of your words carried no implication of the unbridled sincerity sealed in them.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He repeated, laying down that same Irene-contrived smile on you that fostered a smile of your own, knowing fully it surfaced as a reflex from hearing her voice.

"It might be crazy to try this, because I don't know how you feel."

If the thing people say about your life flashing before your eyes during encounters with death, then you were sure your heart was about to consume its last pulse of blood. The scenes of you and Jungkook spending your Friday nights when you were a ripe city dweller in your shoebox apartment doing everything and nothing at all had convinced you that you were certainly about to go into cardiac arrest.

"It might be crazy to say this, because I don't know how you feel." Jungkook was so many things, however emotionally perceptive was not one of them.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you." Those words tasted sweet despite fermenting in a chamber of your heart you kept preserved since, as you said, the very moment you met him.

"But I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you."

"No matter what, I'd choose you. It doesn't matter how mad I am or how annoyed I am, I will choose you because if I know anything in this damn, cruel, punishing world, then I know that I'd rather be angry, annoyed, or anything else with you than without you."

He repeated your words, but dehydrated all of your sentiment from them. You were left with the remnants of the feelings, and none of the words from him you were so desperately starved of. He took them right from your throat, along with the very breath that seemed to keep returning because of Jungkook, molded them into his own, into a sequence of sounds that were meant for Irene. You were left hungry, breathless, and forever wanting.

Irene must have been smiling right about now. Who wouldn't smile hearing those things from someone like Jungkook?

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Then, you began to ask yourself another question.

If you make me complete, Jungkook, will my story ever end?

You knew the answer to that. You swore your heart beat in a morse code that told you everything you needed to know.

"Because with you, I'm complete. My story can't end if I'm incomplete. Please, choose me back. Complete me. That's all I ask."

Jungkook looked to you, before Irene could form the proper response, and smiled. It was the third time he smiled at you today because of course, you were keeping track. You knew it was his own physically linguistic version of a 'thank you' or a 'you're a life saver' but somehow, to you, it translated to something similar to a 'goodbye'.

Your legs miraculously rose and carried you to the back porch. The sun was just beginning to dip in the horizon, proliferating a warm orange that was about to subside to an indistinguishable and unpredictable dusk. Whatever color came after the sunset, you were ready to accept it, to memorize how it reflected against a world without the possibility of him. And even though the night will always embody undertones of orange, it was time to focus on the colors around it.

It was time to let go.

a/n: i might make this into a drabble series!!! if anyone would be interested in that please let me know :)) thank you for readinggggg <3

#bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts writing #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook #constant craving #rubycoast

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screechthemighty · 3 years

Text

Resident Evil Brain is still going brrrr, so here’s a new short fic! I actually came up with the idea for it ages ago, but finishing up everything stays gave me some breathing room to finish it off. You can read the full story below, but I’ll also post it to AO3 (same user name as here) and include a link to that in the reblogs!

If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have slept. He would have powered through, gone after the next Lord. Stopping to eat was one thing; stopping to sleep felt wrong. Almost like he was giving up, or wasting valuable time that could be the difference between life and death for his daughter.

But Ethan had nearly tripped while catching a chicken to eat, and deep down he knew he'd just get himself killed if he didn't rest at least a little. He wasn't expecting that somewhere to be the back of the Duke's wagon, but the man had offered, and Ethan was too tired to complain. He kept the two flasks he'd managed to gather close to his chest as he curled up in his corner. "It's gonna be okay," Ethan whispered. He wasn't sure if Rose could hear him; the Duke had said her essence was intact, whatever the hell that meant, so maybe. It couldn't hurt to try. "I'm coming for you, honey. I promise."

He just needed enough of a nap that his limbs would stop feeling so heavy. Ethan's eyes drifted shut. He thought between the stinging pain in his hand and the memories of that awful house with all the dolls, sleep wouldn't come easy, but he dozed off pretty quickly.

He woke up to a feeling of dread seizing his body.

At first, he thought he’d had a nightmare, but...no, it was deeper than that. Maybe it was his paranoia, but something wasn’t right. Ethan carefully moved off the cot and crept towards the front of the cart. He could just see the Duke’s shoulder, and past it...

Black robes, the flutter of feathers, no, no, she couldn’t be here, not now.

The other man glanced over his shoulder, pressing a single finger to his lips. That was the only thing that kept Ethan from panicking. He thought about making a run for Rose, but that would mean making noise. It was a miracle that Miranda hadn’t heard him move the first time.

How hadn’t she noticed them? The Duke wasn’t exactly subtle. Ethan kept bracing himself for her to turn her head, try to talk to the Duke, maybe even try to hurt him. She did look their way at one point, causing Ethan to duck back behind cover, teeth clenched, trying to steady his breathing. But when he looked again, she just moved on. As if there were nothing out of the ordinary about the Duke being there.

No. As if she hadn’t seen them at all.

Ethan stayed frozen in place until Miranda was out of sight. Even then, he kept his voice down to a whisper: “Is she...?”

“She won’t be a problem,” said the Duke. Ethan was taken aback by the other man’s tone—not quite aggressive, but definitely hostile. “Not for now, at least.” And then, just as swiftly... “It’s good that you’re awake! I’ve just finished preparing lunch.”

That tone was gone.

The smell of food was the only thing that got Ethan to leave the cart; even then, he made sure everything was packed away and secure before he did. He wanted to be ready if he had to run. The Duke didn’t seem worried, though. He just served up the dish (Ethan had already forgotten what it was called, but fuck it smelled good) and started eating his own portion as if nothing were wrong. As if he hadn’t just had the one and only major change in his mood that Ethan had seen in the time they’d known each other. It wasn’t that long in the grand scheme of things, but when the guy had been so consistent up until then, it was noteworthy. Weird, even.

Why are you doing all of this?

Why, it’s all part of our first class customer service.

Or maybe it was personal.

Ethan sneaked a few glances at the Duke as he ate. The man seemed genuinely unbothered, but maybe he was just good at hiding whatever that venom had been. “How didn’t she see us?” Ethan asked. It felt almost rude to ask, but if he was throwing in his lot with this guy, he felt like he had a right to know. “She wasn’t too far away.”

“I’ve been in this village longer than she has,” said the Duke. “It seems to agree with me more than it does her.” He noticed Ethan’s immediate frown. “What’s the longest you’ve ever lived somewhere, Ethan?”

“The same...place? I mean, I was in Dallas for a while. Not the same house the whole time, but...probably Dallas?”

“Well, after a while, wouldn’t you say that you get a feeling for a place’s...essence? How it moves, how it breathes? You could navigate it more quickly than a person who hadn’t been there as long, could you not? Stay hidden in places and ways they wouldn’t know about?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “...we’re right out in the open, there’s nothing...” Ethan sighed. “You know what, never mind. This is sounding like a conversation I should be drunk for.”

The Duke laughed. It didn’t sound mocking, at least. “Well, if you find anything left to drink in this place, bring it back with you. We can split the bottle.”

“Maybe. Once this is over.” And as long as it wasn’t from Dimitrescu’s winery. That stuff definitely wasn’t just fermented grapes.

Ethan kept eating, trying to focus on the food and not on the questions still nagging at his mind. Nothing about this place made sense, and the Duke was high up there on that list. Even if Ethan was choosing to trust him for now...

No, I have to knw.

“So...you know Miranda? Maybe not personally, but...” Ethan glanced up at the Duke, carefully studying his nearly unreadable face. “...I take it you don’t like her very much?”

The Duke hesitated. Even though his face stayed impassive, that alone was enough to catch Ethan’s attention. He wasn’t usually so slow to answer. “I am not one of her devotees, no,” the Duke said. “Which means I can clearly see she is the root of much suffering in this place.”

“The Lords? All those monsters?”

“In more ways than you realize. They were people once, you know. They might be monstrous now, but they are monsters of her making.”

Ethan understood what the Duke meant. He thought about the Bakers. The madman that had cut off his leg versus the man with kind eyes who’d begged him to save his family. The shrieking banshee with her bugs versus a woman who could’ve been his own grandmother. He wasn’t sure if Eveline had ever been anything but cruel, but even if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have existed if it hadn’t been for someone else’s greed. Even the molded had been people once. Ethan didn’t regret defending himself and Mia, never would, and he’d keep defending himself here as long as these people kept screwing with him. But...

How different might things had been if someone somewhere down the line just hadn’t screwed with everyone? Just left the Lords, whoever they had been once, and the villagers in peace?

“Yeah,” Ethan said quietly. He took his last few bites of the food. “Fuck that crazy bitch, huh?”

The Duke laughed boisterously. "I'll certainly eat to that."

Ethan didn't entirely relax. He wasn't sure he was capable of that. But he was able to relax a little. Even if he didn't know how, it seemed like the Duke's little setup was a safe place.

There weren't too many of those in this place.

---

Knowing what to say and when best to say it was one of the most important parts of customer service. It was the only thing that kept the Duke from saying more to Ethan Winters. The poor man had enough on his plate, much he had to grapple with, most of it beyond the scope of his understanding. Further truth might not break him, but it would cause him unnecessary stress.

There was much the Duke would have told him if it weren’t for that concern. What centuries felt like. How this little village had changed, people coming and going, living and dying. How many had tried to seize the power the mountains held. None had truly succeeded before Miranda, the self-proclaimed mother of this place.

The Duke may have long forgotten the face of his own mother, but he remembered enough to know what maternal love felt like. Whatever Miranda had to offer was not that love. Just a twisted perversion of it, as the Lords were twisted perversions of children. She was an infection in these lands, but unfortunately, one he could do nothing about. The Duke had a great many tricks up his sleeve, but he was only a seller of arms. He had never learned to use them himself. He had always been keen to supply those who might oppose Miranda, but none had succeeded yet.

Out of all of them, he felt that Ethan Winters had the best chance of succeeding.

It wasn’t just the man’s biology, though that was clearly giving him an edge. It was something else: the spark the Duke had in his eyes from the first second they met. Determination. Rage. The kind of drive that couldn’t be found in any mold or virus in the world.

And what better to defeat a perversion of parental love than its true counterpart?

Ethan kept his bag clutched close to his chest as he ate, the bag that contained two parts of his daughter. The Duke had heard him whispering to the flasks before he fell asleep, trying to soothe and reassure the child. Even now, as he paused in eating, Ethan hummed quietly. A jaunty tune, one that the Duke didn’t recognize. “A favorite song of hers?” he asked.

Ethan glanced up. “Oh, uh. Yeah. ‘Doctor Worm.’ Never too early to get started on good music.” He held the bag a little closer before finishing off his meal. “Thanks. For the food. And for...” He gestured. “Whatever it was you did back there. If you did anything.”

His tone cemented the Duke’s decision to keep some things from Ethan. He sounded exasperated by even a simple cloaking technique. The Duke’s true age would only elicit a similar response.

Maybe if Ethan survived this, when he had less on his mind, the Duke could tell him everything. His full, dark history with Miranda. The full scope of the horrors he’d seen. The horrors that Ethan would have put a stop to. But for now, the Duke took Ethan’s plate with a smile. “Do keep an eye out for more meat as you go,” he said. “It would be an honor to have dinner with you.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said in a quiet huff. “Assuming I make it that long.”

That was always a risk, of course. That Ethan wouldn’t make it. But despite knowing that...

“After what you’ve done, Mr. Winters? I think you’re more than equipped to handle what’s to come.”

And he meant that. He truly did. Even if it was to be the death of Ethan Winters...the Duke had a feeling it would be the death of Mother Miranda as well.

He just hoped he would be able to explain exactly how truly important that was.

#resident evil #resident evil village #the duke #resident evil the duke #ethan winters #just two special boys having a grand old time in the village

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tedturneriscrazy · 3 years

Text

Another Saturday, another episode! Let's take a look at Keeping Up A-fear-ances!

(Good lord I'm starting to make myself sound like some sort of content creator)

Oh, okay, we're just starting at that level of intensity, huh?

Chest gem origins

Gwendolyn not being satisfied with managing the curse and determined to cure it? I'm sure this won't be a real world allegory in the slightest.

Oh, so Eda literally just stumbles upon the portal? I could call that contrived, but honestly it's not dissimilar to how Dipper found Journal 3. For that matter, the entirety of Lord of the Rings is predicated on an accidental discovery like this and nobody gave Tolkien shit about it.

Was the eye on the portal cracked in previous episodes? I don't remember.

Seems like Gwen is the "well-meaning but ultimately misguided" flavor of mom.

As an aside, I am now quite curious about how Eda's first trip to the human realm went. Maybe a future episode will cover it? At any rate, I smell a new favorite fic prompt.

The screaming alarms in the Demon Realm will never not be funny to me.

Also, that is a worrying number of hearts. Eda is straight up murdering these poor creatures.

For some reason the gold fang being removable never occurred to me as a possibility, and now I feel like a kid who's discovered that Santa isn't real.

Oh hey, the new outfit! I'm also impressed how close to symmetrical that tearing was.

I need to get a screencap of Luz sleeping on that stack of books because she is adorable.

Also, staying up all night researching? This season seems determined to completely eradicate the notion of Luz being dumb, and I am here for it.

I have a feeling the Hexside mug will be making its way to The Mystery Shack in the near future.

Lilith's first experience with transformation and she seems understandably horrified.

The curse acting stronger when stressed? That seems...important.

Ah, so the dismemberment is from the curse! A surprisingly useful side effect from what we've seen so far.

Can I just say that I appreciate how Eda's reaction to Lilith's first taste of transformation is immediate remedy, explanation, and reassurance? And doesn't make any snarky comments along the lines of "now you know what it's like?" Whatever happened in that week and a half must have been cathartic as hell.

"Always. Always curious." Luz is the TOH fandom.

(Also, Eda, you know she is, considering how much she went on about your "mysterious past" at the Covention)

"Magic bird tornado?!" Luz has a way with words that's just *chef's kiss*.

"Gwendolyn." Eda is already just fucking done.

"MOM?!?!" Jeez, Lilith, you're just now hearing all this?

I was charmed by how motherly Gwen was acting toward Eda, but then she kinda just...dismissed Lilith, and now I'm somehwat less charmed.

(Sweet flea as a term of endearment is kinda cute, though might have some unfortunate implications depending on how you want to interpret it)

"Who knows what they put in those nasty concoctions?" OH WE GOING FOR THE ANTI-VAXXERS NOW YESSSS

Luz and Lilith's reaction to that whole exchange is priceless.

Everyone's perspective here makes perfect sense for who they are and what they've been through.

Poor Lilith. Her cursing Eda is beginning to make more sense.

Ah, thus begins the collaboration.

"We'll be consulting someone very special." Why does that seem so...ominous?

Is there anyone who watched this episode for the first time whose bullshit detector didn't go off immediately when Gwen mentioned finding someone who promised a cure?

Heh, Palm Stings.

Nonbelievers will be blinded by the power of the tome? I'm sure they will be, Wartlop.

I must say, as something of a scientist myself (okay that's not true, I'm a QA tech for a food manufacturer, but I do have a chemistry degree), I am 100% here for the swings being taken at faith healing/"miracle" cures/anti-vaxxers in this episode

Oh, we Wile E. Coyote now, huh?

Also, interesting how much apple blood is being played up in this episode.

Lilith please you're projecting your mommy issues on a literal child

OH WE REALLY JUST WILE E. COYOTE HUH?

You're right, Luz, Gwen's bicep game is goals.

(Somewhat disappointed the scars are from questing and not beastkeeping, but eh)

Why do I get the feeling there's gonna be a future episode where everybody stages an intervention for Eda's apple blood problem?

"Those feathers mean we're driving the beast out" Gwen no

Hooty is holding the brain cell? Oh no...

If that ice cream came from the Night Market it would explain why Lilith sounds drunk.

(Side note: I can't be the only one getting flashbacks to Mermista's ice cream binge, right? Different context, but still)

"Abomi-berry" "Franken fruit" "Key slime pie" These are A+ flavor names.

Oh, there's the transformation...

I must say that whole segment kinda rubbed me the wrong way. The way King's opinion on his dad was changed seemed...I don't know how to describe it. I get that they needed a trigger for Lilith's transformation, but honestly if any part of the episode is contrived it's this.

"¡It really is that good!" So that's what an accent slip in written form looks like. (The upside down exclamation point is used in Spanish, in case anyone didn't know)

I keep half expecting Eda to say "Beep! Beep!" at this point.

Luz is finally asking questions. Took long enough.

Ah, the classic "moving the goal posts to extract more money from a desparate family member" technique.

Luz channeling Scorpion, we love to see it.

There is an exquisite irony in Eda's mom being scammed, I must say.

Ah, so that's where the elixirs went. Dammit, Gwen.

Luz is definitely thinking "Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

Beast!Lilith is massive.

"Sweet flea?" Gwen just realized she done goofed.

"I can see you still need a little time." God Luz is so fucking smart.

The con revealed.

OH DAMN SCARY MAMA

(Also I am terrified of bees/wasps, so extra scary mama in my book)

The scam is revealed, goblins, getting back into the Wartlop disguise is kinda pointless.

She joined the Beast Keeping coven entirely to cure the curse? That's dedication. A shame you couldn't have spared some of that for Lilith.

Still, I do like badass scary mama Gwen. I'd be down to see more of that.

Owl Beast fight!

I am slayed by the fact that the portraits are now officially a recurring gag 😂

Aw, here's The Moment™️

"My turn to drive" Does this imply cars are a thing on the Boiling Isles after all?

Lilith crying almost immediately💔 She was holding onto a lot of pain.

Yes, King, she was trying to do her best. I mean, road to hell or whatever, but at least Gwen got there in the end.

WHAT?! YOU'RE BREAKING UP LULU AND HOOTCIFER?!?!?!?

Terrace, that's just cruel. (Worthless brownie points for whoever understands that reference)

No, seriously, you can't just give me my favorite inter-character relationship in the series after Lumity and just...take it away like that, come on! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I know I should remark on how Lilith told Gwen about the circumstances of the curse, how Gwen rightfully accepted responsibility for the whole situation, and how Luz finds the big hair aspirational, but...NOOOO DON'T END THE ADVENTURES OF LULU AND HOOTCIFER WHYYYYYYYYY💔😭💔😭💔😭

"BUT I CAN'T HOLD A PEN!"

I will never emotionally recover from this.

Okay, I think I got that out of my system. Anyway...

Not the only human, huh? Cue the "Belos is a human" theorists going into maximum overdrive.

That said, a tantalizing lore dump.

We certainly do have a lot of garbage. Some of it even holds office. HEY-O!

Setting up the next episode, too. Continuity!

Camp's over, huh? That means it's been three months.

Way to misdirect with Camila, guys. That said, we have now seen Camila cry and I HATE it. (In the right way, I think)

WHAT THE FUCK

HOLY SHIT

CREEPY LUZ IS REAL WHAT

OWJEIWHQGIWWOPQ

(It's hard to keysmash on a phone, even with autocorrect off)

That wraps it up! The flaws in this episode seem more pronounced than any others in the season so far, but the good stuff was really good! Overall a solid episode! I know everybody's looking forward to library Lumity in the next one (so am I), but I'm personally eager to see what they do with Gus. His part is the A plot, after all.

Anyway, I'll be back at this next week! Still hard to believe this is a thing, but that's life, I guess.

#the owl house #eda clawthorne #gwendolyn clawthorne #luz noceda #lilith clawthorne #king of demons #toh king #toh s2 spoilers #the owl house s2 spoilers #the owl house season 2 spoilers #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years

Text

Game Master Akuma AU by crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

#submission

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miraculous-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Miraculous Rewrite- Protective Detective

You guys ever seen those old school detective shows?

We start on the world as a high contrast noir. We focus on the inside of a door, stated on the glass ‘Raincomprix private investigations’ and in the small office a gentleman we haven’t seen in some time is filing through printed photos and paperwork.

Text boxes appear as if this were an old style comic, as narrated of course by M. Raincomprix himself. ‘Being a former police officer has its perks. When you leave the force on your own terms it means people don’t question your credibility, it means your old friends are still your friends.’

‘And it means you can spot signs of the immoral when they come up in your line of work’ he scowls slightly and places a scattered pile of (indistinct to us) photos into a manilla folder. ‘I have rules, morals, ethics that lead me to leaving my former line of work that I now have the freedom to continue to keep.’ he lifts one more picture up, the picture we see depicts our favorite rabbit girl talking with our least favorite scorpion man, and more notably the very careful way he rests a hand on his medallion.

‘I don’t look into children, I don't take jobs that sound like abuses of ability, I don't let the cruel get off without circumstances.’ The last one is in front of another photo, this one of Tsering Wan holding a berry out to nothing, and then in the next photo seemingly taken seconds later the berry vanishes.

Then finally he pulls out a slightly blurry but intact picture of The Scorpion, clearly from when he’d threatened Cheshire in front of the crowd during the Fall of the Order. ‘I am a detective.’ Roger Raincomprix leans forward, face pale and hand covering his mouth. ‘And I believe I can’t ignore this case any longer.’

Cue intro

We Exit the intro with a tonal shift and focus on the short haired bourgeois girl mixing something in a bowl with a wooden spoon, Amber pauses, lifting the contents up and watching the bluish liquid dribble from the spoon and back into the bowl. “So this is the Sky potion?”

“It’s supposed to be.” Chloe huffs from the other side of the room, she corks the greenish sea potion and gives it some quick shakes. “If Cesaire was right about one ingredient each being riddles, and we’ve got the Sea potion as the control group then we can test things out from there.”

Amber dips her pinky into the sky potion and smells it. “What was the riddle for this one?”

“True joy. I figured since ‘tear of laughter’ was the sea potion then tears of happiness might be what it was looking for.”

“You think so?”

“You wanna test it out?” Amber thinks for a moment but before she can answer Pollen goes for the sky potion without her, zipping in and swallowing a yellow drop as it falls.

“Hmmmmmm Not quite. Perhaps it can tell the difference between manufactured happiness and true happiness?”

“Maybe…” Chloe reached over and took the bowl from her she grumbled over it and after a moment Amber got a wide grin.

“Maybe you should take it with you on a date, see what happens?” Chloe scowls, her face bright red. “Maybe you should take it on YOUR date.” she fires back, now Amber’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“It is NOT a date!”

“Okaaayyyyy”

“Chloe- Chloe she was YOUR best friend! She literally JUST decided to stop hating me!”

“Mmmhm”

“Not everything has romantic tilts to it Chloe-”

“Of course.”

Chloe’s grin grows wider with every protest, and soon joining her are Shorr and Pollen, all three smirking knowingly at Amber’s spluttering.

“Even if it WAS like that, which it is NOT-” Amber huffs. “We’re just going to grab a coffee, an afternoon coffee, because she’s got a history project and I'm gonna be on patrol with Pegasus tonight anyway. We both need it. It’s not a date.”

“Whatever you say little sister.”

Amber scowls and Chloe’s smile drops for a second, pondering it over. “..Sabrina doesn’t seem like it, but she really does like spontaneity, she loves romance novels so she’s kind of a huge sap….” she thinks for another moment, carefully pouring the sky potion into an emptied out energy shot bottle. “It’s okay that she’d rather not repair things with me, you know. I’m okay with where I am. But like…” Chloe glances back at Shorr, giving her an excited smile and gesturing for her to continue and her expression drops into the unimpressed Chloe face. “You know what? Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Do what you want.” But nonetheless as Amber turns her back Chloe slips the potion into one of her pockets.

There’s a rapid thumping noise and the door bursts open, Alya on the other side, fire behind her eyes. “What’s this about Amber having a date?!”

Amber glares at Chloe who grins sneakily back at her.

Alya latches onto Amber’s arm and starts excitedly extolling about all the other relationships she’s helped set up, and she’s basically the true love god here, step aside Aphrodite. Also she’s been with her BF the longest out of anyone else, so she definitely knows what she’s doing. Ohhhh man Amber’s got to tell her everything But actually first, FIRST they gotta get a good outfit that’s juuussstttt hot enough to get Miss Sabrina all flustered and stuff but just subtle enough that it wouldn’t be obvious that’s what they’re planning. Alya pulls her away but just as the two leave the bedroom Alya glances back at Chloe who points to a potion bowl and points to Amber, she gestures to a pocket and Alya nods.

But we cut then to the coffee place they were to be meeting, Sabrina’s wearing of course her normal outfit, and seeming a bit nervous as she kind of now always is when left waiting, but she doesn’t actually wait all too long as a familiar head of stylized short hair comes into sight.

And She yelps, face turning redder than her hair as Amber approaches wearing, indeed a fairly more cute outfit than her usual long coat+skirt combo, but she seems equally embarrassed about it as anything else.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Sabrina squeaks back.

“You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“No, I just got here.” Sabrina huffs, rubbing the back of her neck, and the two enter the coffee house. “I like that outfit, is it new?”

“Oh this? Ahah, kinda? Chloe forced me out of the jacket and said if I wore the same outfit to another outing she’d burn it.”

Sabrina laughs “Sounds like Chloe.”

“So how have you been?”

“Pretty good, Dad’s got a new case he’s looking into, something about some evil museum worker?” Amber stiffens for a moment as they approach the counter. “I think Jalil put him on the case, Alix’s brother?”Amber nods slightly. “Yeah, after he left for university he’s been worried about not being able to look out for Alix, and had some crazy conspiracy in his head about this staff member having some sort of horrible connections, maybe even going all the way to Hawkmoth and his crowd.”

“Woah, really?” Amber half-squeaks.

“Yeah, it was wild watching Alix’s brother stumble in with another conspiracy but this time be taken seriously.” She pauses for a moment. “Well, not super seriously, I'm pretty sure Dad just thought he was a worried older brother needing some sort of justification for the anxiety of leaving his little sister behind.”

“But…?”

“But, Dad’s been looking into it for a bit now and…” she shrugs. “Maybe for once Jalil was onto something.”

“I.. I see…” They receive their orders and go to sit down. “Wild.”

“You seen anything like that while you two are hanging out?” Sabrina’s tone is idle but when Amber glances back at her Sabrina is regarding her with a calculating look.

“Which museum worker are we talking about again?”

“Something-Wan, Bald central asian guy? Wears a suit and that medallion thing?” Sabrina gestures to her chest to pantomime holding a medallion in her hand, but her expression doesn’t change.

“Huh… I haven’t seen anything I don't think? I’ll keep an eye out.”

Sabrina keeps eye contact a little longer before shrugging “Fair enough. How’s homeschool been treating you guys?”

The chat continues as Sabrina’s phone goes off a few times, but she doesn’t answer, puts it on silent and pockets the thing.

But we cut to see who’s been texting Sabrina and of course, it is in fact her dad. Roger sends another text, and as we see he’s keeping her updated about his location, something that seems to be a common thing between the two when he’s out doing research, due to the text history we see between them as Roger scrolls up a bit more to confirm something.

“Keep safe.” He mutters to himself, looking down at another developed photograph, this one of the three girls spotted during their investigations during Pirates Duel. Team Triple A, and one familiar blonde is in that team. The most recent message to Sabrina saying ‘Keep an eye on your friend, she may be in danger too’

But as we see him he’s stationed outside the Louvre as such a case would require, and we see, from a distance, the sort of interactions that are probably extremely common in this place now. A tense standoff between Tsering Wan and Alix Kubdel, both perfectly aware of each other's identities, yet by social contract won’t be causing a scene in public.

They seem to trade barbs back and forth as Roger gets closer.

“-Watch your friends closely, little bunny.”

“Are you really gonna say this shit every time we run into each other? Whatever happened to just ignoring people?”

“Perhaps I could have done so, if you and yours weren’t proven to be incapable of decency.”

“You tried to kill my friends, multiple times! You have no right to talk about decency! If we could go to the cops with all we know-”

“Your friends would be going down with us. If you think my family is afraid of going against Paris’ law enforcement you’ve got another thing coming, child.”

There’s a rush of footsteps quickly approaching, and Roger steps in “Ah! Miss Kubdel!” Alix blinks and both quickly game face back up, looking as unassuming civilians as possible.

“Oh, hey M. Raincomprix.”

“I’ve been asking around Mme Dubois’ class for a case based on your lycee, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” Alix glares at Tsering Wan for a moment who smiles passively back at her.

“I should remind you Miss Kubdel-” Tsering Wan starts with a mocking lilt “-That your father requires your presence after your abysmal grade in history recently, how a child of an Egyptologist ranked that low in her class is beyond me.”

The silent message of ‘this isn’t over yet’ successfully carried, Alix grits her teeth and looks back at Roger. “Sorry M. Raincomprix, if you wanna pass those questions onto Sabrina I can answer ‘em on Monday.”

Roger looks between the two, sees Alix stuff her hands into her pockets, sees Tsering Wan lean over into her space. Narrows his eyes.

“I see. Good luck to you then.” Alix turns on her heel, pushes past Tsering Wan and vanishes into the building, Tsering Wan looks back at Roger one more time and nods before turning as well.

Calmly, slowly, Roger Raincomprix walks back to his car, a somewhat old looking but dependable model, and sits for a moment, hand on the wheel, processing.

“I’m going back in there.” he decides after a pause, and just as he pockets his notebook and shoulders his camera a flicker of black enters the frame.

But we cut away before we see that and head back to the streets of Paris as Amber and Sabrina continue to walk and talk, Sabrina every so often bringing up things about the other classmates, Amber countering with some updates from people who had to leave the Lycee. But the conversation remains mainly light and cheerful, books, shows, movies. All in all just vibing and enjoying company.

Sabrina’s phone goes off a few times more and a few times more is ignored as she and Amber walk over to a nearby patch of green and finish up their drinks.

“Everything.. Okay? Annoying app or something?”

“It’s fine.” She responds simply “Dad’s been a little paranoid lately about the idea of something happening while he’s investigating things.”

“That case about Tsering Wan?”

Sabrian’s eyes lock to Amber’s, the same calculating look back on her face. “...yup.”

“Well maybe you should check it out anyway then? I mean if Jalil was onto something about that guy being evil like you said-”

“It’s fine.” Sabrina answers, but pauses all the same. “You-.... You know something about this though, don’t you?” Amber freezes.

“Wha? Hehe, what gave you that idea?” Sabrina fusses with her glasses before sighing and removing them.

“I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? How certain little…. Changes… kept being made when new heroes came along, A weird little motley crew of them, there are two wielders for one Miraculous so they never show up at the same time, and right after all five heroes show up at once, six people who were only kinda friends with each other start becoming inseparable. And what Lila did was inexcusable but she did have one very important thing to contribute.” Sabrina turned to look directly at Amber, who had paled considerably.

“Why do you and Chloe have those matching hair combs, Amber?”

But just before she could cook up a response there’s a trumble on the ground, and Sabrian’s phone has another text, and this time, seemingly more on reflex, She looks back down at it, eyes suddenly widen and there’s a crash.

Amber grabs Sabrina and pulls her down to crouch behind the bench, and just as they do so another shake denotes a new guest. Sabrina looks back down at her phone and we see a small text history that goes from normal ‘investigation’ updates to ‘your friend isn’t safe’ to ‘you aren’t safe i’m coming to get you’ to a very VERY detailed deduction of their location based on brief texts and previous conversations matched with how Sabrina normally likes to spend quality time with a person until finally naming this exact park as her most likely location.

Sabrina looks up and sure enough a spotlight hits the bench, it holds up for a moment before shattering and the earth rumbles beneath them as the weight of the spotlight presses against them. Sabrina nearly collapses under the weight, but Amber is able to move just enough to grab Sabrina and start dragging the two of them out of the light. She looks up and sure enough the area around them has suddenly darkened and de-saturated, as if cloaked in shadows that aren’t there. Amber gives one more tug and she and Sabrina stumble out of the light, both dizzy and Sabrina notably weaker, Amber hoists her into a princess carry and starts to book it as the light begins to try and track them, evasive maneuvers just barely dodging the spotlight more and more as the stone and grass that does get hit bends and breaks under the weight of the light.

“Return my daughter, Miss Bourgeois and I can ensure your protection as well.”

“D- Dad?” Sabrina chokes over Amber’s shoulder as Amber finally curves out of the park, just in time for a huge dirigible to peek its way over the tops of the buildings. She ducks behind an alley and as Sabrina pulls at her clothes she gently sets her down.

“You okay?”

“Oh geez, Dad got Akumatized…”

“It’s okay, parent akumtizations aren’t that rough, it just means you’re probably a target.”

“How is that ‘Not that rough’?!” Sabrina squeaks. But Amber shakes her head, covering Sabrina’s mouth and pressing her against the wall, she leans in close, (and one can notice Sabrina’s face turning red again) as Amber peers out from the alleyway to the spotlights grazing past them as the dirigible lightly begins to pass them overhead.

“Ok, coast is clear.” She states, glancing back at Sabrina, before ALSO noting the closeness and jumping back instantly, rubbing the back of her head and fighting off a blush of her own. “Does your dad have cell tracking or Find my Phone enabled on yours? I doubt it’d do much, but if he does, might be safer to ditch it if he’s got that kind of transportation.”

As she speaks, she’s also digging her own phone out, tapping out a quick “SOS, Sabrina’s dad’s akumatized” before returning her focus to her friend.

Sabrina thinks for a second. “I mean I don’t have it on my phone, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his akuma talents is being able to figure something out based on me just keeping my phone on me or something.” She looks down at it before throwing it against the wall, the little thing snapping in half on impact. “Miraculous Ladybug should fix that.” she says after a beat.

“If it doesn’t I’ll get you a new one.” Amber agrees. “So I sent a distress text to Alya who can send the akuma alert onto the Ladyblog and we’ll see what heroes pick up on it.” Amber relays smoothly. Sabrina raises an unimpressed brow at that but before she can question the veracity of that the spotlight clicks down onto them again, and once again the weight of the light is pressed onto the girls. Though this time Sabrina is able to grab Amber and slowly drag them both away before she collapses.

But of course, that’s when the heroes come in.

A yoyo wire wraps around either of their waists and hoists the girls into the air, to be unceremoniously caught by Chat Noir.

“Well look at what you reeled up Bugaboo! A red snapper and a blonde bass!”

“A bass? Really?”

“I don’t snap!”

“You girls okay?” Ladybug looks the two over as they get set onto the building rooftop safely and untied. “You probably don’t want to stay in one place too long if he’s after you in specific, Sabrina.”

“I think he’s trying to protect people?” She offers, looking in her pocket before remembering she ditched her phone. “He sent some post akuma texts about coming to get me because we’re ‘in danger’.” She huffed, going instead to fix her glasses. “Though I'm not sure how he intends to do so in that big ol’ blimp with spotlights that make everything heavy…”

“So. Heavy.” Amber agrees, slumping over tired for a moment.

Only for a moment, before she realizes she’d slumped over onto Sabrina, and then jumps back into an upright position. From the corner of her eye, she spots Rena Rogue touch down on the rooftop, and the Fox grins; Amber turns her head so Sabrina can’t see her face, and promptly sticks her tongue out at the hero.

“Well, Semmix is already trying to see if the Rabbit can jump higher than the rest of us, but we’re gonna need to see how far that staff of yours can stretch, Kitty Cat.” Rena chimes in, making her presence known to the rest of the group, and Chat nods.

And with a playful bow towards Ladybug that gets an equally playful roll of her eyes, he jumps off with Rena Rogue. Ladybug turns her attention back to the two girls, gesturing to the door with a tilt of her head. “That’ll get you both off the roof. Like I said, make sure to keep on the move, and we’ll try and handle things quick as we can.”

Before giving either of them a chance to speak, Ladybug’s zipping away, and Sabrina pretty much collapses onto the ground with an exhale.

“Ok… where do you think we should hide first?”

“Maybe somewhere he wouldn’t expect? What would be the last place you’d hide from someone with that kind of akuma power?”

“Somewhere where there’s not a lot of protection against spotlights.” Sabrina pauses before looking back where the heroes left. “Hey, didn’t they used to have like… other forms? I distinctly remember wings at some point, why are they having problems with it now?”

“I.. Uh… I wouldn’t know, I get the feeling it’s a long story though.” Amber coughs and Sabrina raises her brow at her. “Anyway, I have an idea, let's go do that instead.”

Amber grabs Sabrina’s wrist and pulls her forward.

But of course we go back to the fight. And by fight I mean mostly the current team of four trying to get up there and into the blimp to fight in the first place. But it’s not quite working, diving in from rooftops doesn’t get them high enough, though the Rabbit can jump higher than everyone else it seems like Semmix isn’t getting enough torque either.

Ladybug thinks for a time, and then comes up with an idea, after all, they can’t even get the fight started without getting up there.

So we start out with Chat and Rena on the ground, both in sturdy positions as Chat’s staff extends as far as it will go, which is pretty fucking far, and just barely brushes the nearby rooftops. It’s clearly swaying and begging to fall, but he and Rena keep a sturdy grip. Semmix and Ladybug both run from one of said rooftops and halfway across the roof Ladybug lifts Semmix up into her arms and jumps from the ledge, pushing off of the edge of CHat’s baton and springing into the air just as they seem about to lose torque Ladybug shifts, revealing Semmix has the yoyo string wrapped around her waist, and then she uses Ladybug’s outstretched hand to spring even further into the air just as Ladybug starts to fall, a race now of movement versus movement as Semmix can only hope to have generated enough force to reach the blimp before Ladybug’s yoyo runs out of string and takes her down too.

Sure enough, with one thrust of the umbrella into a window, Semmix opens the thing and reaches the ledge of the blimp. She jolts when the wire runs taught and Ladybug is now dangling from her waist, but she doesn’t fall.

“That was fucking terrifying.” She mutters as she shifts the umbrella just enough to hoist herself over the ledge of the window and crawl inside, tugging the wire until Ladybug is crawling up behind her.

“So what’s the plan now that we’re in here?” Semmix tries, “Do we handle M. Raincomprix ourselves or try to get this thing to drop anchor so Chat and Rena can get up here?”

“Option two is preferable but if we need to go it solo I think we can take it.” Ladybug smiles around huffing breaths and she and Semmix nod to each other. They stand. “So the first question, where is M. Raincomprix.”

“That’s Protective Detective to you two.” a voice chime soer the intercom. “And now that you’re here-” Metal walls slide up over the windows. “You’ll be safe.”

The two huff and draw out their weapons properly.

But seen very distantly from the ground, is the blimp getting fully encompassed in metal (yet still of course staying afloat) the spotlights growing in intensity and viciously breaking the world below.

We stick on Rena And Chat doing as much damage control as possible, keeping people away from the destructive light and ensuring whoever is under there is only there briefly while one of them swoops in and gets them out.

“Chat this is ridiculous, they’re gonna need more time but we can’t keep this up forever.”

“You saw what happens when people actually die during attacks. Miraculous Ladybug can’t fix everything on its own.”

“Yes I know! But if none of us can get up there then there’s no doubt no one else on the team can! Even Ryuuko’s whole ‘ride the wind’ thing can only get her so high.”

“I wonder… Hey Chat?”

“Yeah?”

“Sabrina said that her father wants to protect her, right?”

“...Yeah?”

“So why do his spotlights push people down instead of being basically tractor beams? He’s not taking people in, he's pushing them away.”

They both pause for a moment. “Or are they just not being completed?” they ask at once.

“You wanna try?” Rena asks “Or should I?”

“Sure why not?” Chat stretches. “Sources say I have a thick skull. Probably won’t kill me. And if it does I have it on good authority that I have a bare minimum of one relative that would probably go full evil again if he deals with any more trauma like that.”

Gilligan cutaway briefly to Michael’s apartment, and Gabriel, at the kitchen table (which, mind you, is covered in papers and legal documents), sneezes and looks around briefly, before wiping his nose with his sweater’s sleeve.

“GABE I SAW THAT!”

But then we’re back to Chat and Rena. Rena rolls her eyes but smirks as Chat lays on the ground, kicking back and resting his hands under his head, in full lounge position. And sure enough when the spotlight hits him his hair falls flat against the ground, tail and ears going limp. He grits his teeth as the weight settles on him, but just as his breaths start to become a little wheezy it lets up and goes in full reverse.

Chat starts to get picked up off the ground as the weight turns into a sort of tractor beam, pulling him upward and though Chat is still clearly pretty light-headed he extends the staff for Rena to grab hold of as they’re both floated upwards.

“I feel like we’re getting abducted by aliens…” she mutters.

“Cavalry's coming, ladies.” Chat mutters.

However, we don’t stay with the heroes. Instead, we pan away from the tractor beam spotlight, getting farther and farther away until we’re seeing it from up high. Sure enough, Amber and Sabrina have climbed up the Eiffel Tower, looking out from the balcony at the sight, and then both girls are looking at each other.

“I hope the four of them are ok…” Sabrina mumbles, hands clasped together, and her expression is filled with concern.

Amber, meanwhile, has a narrowed gaze, looking back at the sight, but then back to Sabrina; it’s clear she’s conflicted, and with Sabrina as a likely target, it’s important to keep her safe.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Amber says after a beat, though her tone is uncertain. “Heroes of Paris and all that.”

“Amber I know you were only an akuma the once but I've done it before and it’s… not fun. Whatever made Dad so upset to attract one, it’s… it’s hard to get solved. And it might not actually BE solved when he gets saved. Dad’s spent his entire life believing in ethics and morals and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he woke up and found that he’d hurt the heroes while he was being manipulated by Hawkmoth.”

“Monarcha.” Amber responds reflexively, but Sabrian turns to her.

“How do you know that? There are two of them, yeah, but what are the tells between the two?” Amber turns back to Sabrina who now looks more angry than anything else. “Amber, I’m not oblivious, and I’m not stupid. You’re Bellflower, aren’t you? Chloe was probably Queen Bee too, wasn’t she?” Amber is stunned, she opens her mouth a few aborted times to try and form a response, but before she can-

“Perhaps you two young ladies should be more concerned over yourselves than your identities.”

Amber whispers a quick “oh goddammit-” before she very pointedly gets between Sabrina and their new ‘guest’

“Scorpion.”

“Bee.”

“Wait, HE’s that Scorpion guy!?”

“Your friend is quite the person of interest on this day, little Bee.” Tsering Wan humms, fiddling with Misso’s medallion as the little scorpion kwami hovers out from her hiding spot. “Perhaps she’d like to see a demonstration of our skills.

“Perhaps not.” Amber reaches into her pocket presumably to throw whatever it is inside and pulls out the energy shot from the beginning of the episode. “What the-”

“How precious, running so firmly out of options while still trying to keep your identity a secret. To store them using emptied out small bottles? How boorish, you haven’t even removed the initial packaging! Which one is it? Hm? The sky potion? I can only assume as much, granted what your comrades are facing in the stratosphere at the moment.”

“‘Sky potion’?” Sabrina whispers “Like flying forms?”

“Scorpion, stay out of this, this is just some akuma nothing worth messing around with.”

“Hm, I suppose on a normal day it would be, but I’m beginning to get rather tired of faking a calm I don't wish to maintain simply for the other council members who already agree with me. Misso, transform me.”

Amber curses under her breath as he approaches them further, causing them to back up, until Sabrian gives a shout of surprise and they realize they’re close to the edge.

“Fne. Sabrina, get somewhere safe.” Amber passes her the potion and pushes her to the side a bit.

“Amber-”

“Trust me. Pollen, transform me!”

Sabrina looks between the two, fearful, confused, before her expression hardens and she looks down at the energy shot container and unscrews the lid. “No.”

“Sabrina I do not have time to-” Bellflower turns to Sabrina whom grabs Amber’s face in either hand, the unscrewed energy shot tilted over to the point where potion should be leaking out-

And kisses her.

It holds for just a moment before Bellflower jerks away, hand covering her mouth and one can see her reflexively swallowing, Sabrina wipes her mouth with her sleeve and it comes away yellow. “I’m not leaving you to your own devices. Okay?”

Amber stares dumbly for a moment but nods.

“Are you two done with your hormonal teenage nonsense?”

Amber puts her arms around Sabrina’s waist and smiles back. “Let’s see how far we can go.” She lifts Sabrina up and dives off the side of the tower.

“Hey ‘Brina?”

“Yeah?”

“That potion wasn’t fully put together. I don't know if it’ll work.”

“WHAT?!”

“But the last ingredient was ‘True Joy’ so let's try it out!” Bellflower clutches Sabrina tighter and pulls upward and-

A flash of yellow, and the buzz of a bee, and Bellflower pulls upward, Sabrina clutching to her side. The two zipping through the air. And headed towards the blimp.

“You okay Sabrina?”

“This is terrifying!”

“‘S okay not everyone’s got it in them to be in the thick of it” She states first, before glancing back down at her. “But I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”

Despite the terror and fear in Sabrina’s eyes, there’s the faintest of smiles on her face. “I know, I believe you.”

Bellflower turns red and the two of them make it to the blimp at just about the same time Chat and Rena are sucked into the bottom of the thing, Bellflower zipping inside just as the ‘cargo’ doors close.

Sure enough Chat Noir is still hovering in a spotlight, unable to get out or get much traction atm, just grumbling to himself and trying to push himself out of the beam with his staff. Rena is on the other hand trying to open the door between the ‘cargo bay’ and the rest of the blimp. “Oh hey Bell, Hi… Miss Raincomprix?

“Hi Rena, has my dad committed any war crimes yet?”

“Other than property damage, not really.”

“Good.”

Just then the door breaks down with a black and blue sneaker, Semmix with her umbrella raised high looks into the room and-

“Oh goddammit another dead end. Hey guys. Sabrina, your dad’s dragging us on a wild goose chase.”

“Okay okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Sabrina takes a deep breath, straightens her glasses and walks out into the hall. “Dad was fond of labyrinth when I was young, it was one of those movies he desperately wanted me to like, but I could never get into it, but there was this one sequence I remember, when the main girl is trying to logic her way out, the goblins kept cheating and turning her markings different directions.”

“So that’s what’s happening?”

“Probably. If Dad wants to keep us all safe, then what’s safer then ensuring we can never leave here again?”

Ladybug thinks for a second, before gently taking Sabrina’s shoulder. “In that case Mlle Raincomprix, lead the way.”

Sabrina’s eyes widen, she looks to the others, Bellflower shoots her a thumbs up, and Sabrina nods, with a small smile. She turns to the camera and as she runs forward we cut to black.

#Miraculous rewrite #Miraculous Ladybug #Rewrite #Mod Vega #Mod Aimee #Protective Detective

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kuromichad · 3 years

Text

different subject that’s heavy on my mind rn but since i’m already being harsh let’s get into it. i wish it wasn’t automatically presumed to be some kind of truscum attitude when someone tries to express that different parts of The Trans Community have like, different needs and different risk levels and different experiences and that we have the ability to talk over each other, harm each other, etc... like when i put it that way people generally are like ‘of course that’s true!’ but is it ever really understood in practice? a number of people (not a large enough number, but still) are able to loosely understand ‘you can be trans and transphobic’ when it’s applied to the matter of transmisogyny but when a trans person tries to express distrust of or frustration with afab nb people due to how common it is that that category of person will, despite being trans/nb, espouse bioessentialist, anti-medical-transition, radfem-adjacent if not outright cryptoterf rhetoric, suddenly ‘trans people can be transphobic’ gets applied to... the person with a complaint about transphobia.

because he’s clearly an evil truscum man! regardless of if the person making the complaint is a trans man or trans woman, oops, lol. he’s a bad person who is attacking and invalidating and totally hatecriming the heckin’ valid, equally at-risk transgender identity of “an afab woman who isn’t a woman except when she pointedly categorizes themself as a woman because being afab makes them a woman who is ‘politically aligned’ with women but she’s not an icky unwoke cis woman because they don’t like being forced into womanhood although Really When You Think About It 🤔 all women are dysphoric because obviously the pathologized medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria in transgender people is something that equally applies to cis women just default existing under patriarchy 🤔, and no, equating these things totally does not imply anything reductive about or add a bizarre moral dimension to the idea of being transgender, whaaaaat, this woman who isn’t a woman doesn’t think there’s anything immoral or cowardly or misogynist or delusional about being transgender, they would never say that because THEY’RE transgender, except when she feels it’s important (constantly) to make clear that she’s Still A Woman Deep Down Inherently Despite Not Identifying As One, and none of this ever has any effect on how they treat the concept, socially and politically, of people who actually wholly identify with (and possibly medically transition to) a gender different from the one they were assigned at birth, be it ‘the opposite gender’ or abstaining from binary gender altogether or ‘politically aligning’ with the ‘opposite’ gender from their asab. never ever!”

and like maybe that sounds like a completely absurd and hateful strawman to you! but in that case you’re either like, lucky, or optimistic, or ignorant. i’m literally not looking at random nb people and declaring that in My Truscum Opinion they’re ‘really a woman’ just because they’re not medically transitioning or meeting some arbitrary standard of mine. i am looking at self-identified afab nb people, who most often use she/they because, y’know, words mean things, especially pronouns, so people who are willingly ‘aligned with womanhood’ typically intentionally use she/her (sorry that i guess that’s another truscum take now!!! that pronouns mean things!!! the bigender transmasc who deliberately uses exclusively he/him wants it to invoke a perception he’s comfortable with!), who actively say the things listed above (in a non-sarcastic manner).

like, the line between a person who says “i don’t claim to really not be my asab because i know no one would ever perceive me as anything else” because theyve internalized a defeatist attitude due to societal transphobia, and a person who says that because they... genuinely believe it’s impossible/ridiculous/an imposition to truly be transgender (in the traditional trans sense, beyond a vague nb disidentification with gender) and are actively contributing to the former person’s self loathing... is hard to define from a distance! i think plenty of people who are, in a sense, ‘tentative’ or like ‘playing close to home’ so to speak in their identity are ‘genuinely trans’ (whatever that may mean) and just going through a process. they might arrive at a different identity or might just eventually stop saying/believing defeatist stuff, who knows. but there are enough people saying it for the latter reason, or at least not caring if they sound that way, that it’s like, dangerous. it is actively incredibly harmful to other trans people. and it’s fucking ridiculous that it’s so difficult to criticize because you’ll always get the defense of “umm but i’m literally trans” and/or “well i’m just talking about ME, this doesn’t apply to other trans people” when it’s an attitude that very clearly seeps into their politics and the way they discuss gender.

because it’s just incredibly common for afab nb people (most typically those that go by she/they! since i’m aware that uh, i am also afab nb, but we clearly are extremely different, so that’s the best categorization i’ve got) to discuss gender in moralized terms, with the excuse of patriarchy/misogyny existing, which of course adds another difficult dimension to trying to criticize this because it gets the response of “don’t act like misandry is real” (it’s not, but being a dick still is) and “boohoo, let women complain about their oppressors” (this goes beyond ‘complaining’). a deliberate revocation of empathy/sympathy/compassion from men and projection of inherently malicious/brutish/cruel intent onto men (not solely in the justified generalizations ‘men suck/are dangerous’, but in specific interactions too) underpin a whole fucking lot of popular posts/discussions online, whether they’re political or casual/social, and it absolutely influences how people conceptualize and feel about transness.

because ‘maleness is evil’ is still shitty politics even when you’ve slightly reframed it from the terf ‘trans women are evil because they’re Really Men and can never escape being horrific soulless brutes just as women can never escape being fragile morally superior flowers’ to the tumblr shethey “trans women who are out to me/unclockable are tolerable i guess because they’re women and women are good; anyone i personally presume to be a cis man, though, is still automatically evil, and saying trans men are Just As Bad is progressive of me, and it’s totally unrelated and apolitical that i think we should expand the concept of afab lesbianism so broadly that you can now be basically indistinguishable from trans men on literally every single level except for a declaration of ‘but i would never claim to be a man because i’m secure in the Innate Womanhood of the body i was born into, even as i medically alter that body because it causes me great gendered discomfort.’ none of this at all indicates that i feel there’s an immense moral/political gap between being an afab nb lesbian vs a straight trans man! it says nothing at all about my concept of ‘maleness’ and there’s no way this rhetoric bleeds into my perception of trans women and no way loudly talking about all this could keep trans people around me self-loathing and closeted, because i’m Literally Trans and Not A Terf!”

again, if that sounds like a hateful strawman, sorry but it’s not. i guess i’m supposed to be like ‘all of the many people ive seen saying these shitty things is an evil outlier who Doesn’t Count, and it’s not fair to the broad identity of afab shethey to not believe that every person who doesn’t outright say terfy enough things is a perfectly earnest valid accepting trans person who’s beyond criticism’ but like. this cannot be about broad validation. this can’t be about discarding all the bad apples as not really part of the group. we can’t be walking on eggshells to coddle what are essentially, in the end, Cis Feelings, because in the best cases this kind of rhetoric comes from naive people who are early and uncertain in their gender journey or whatever and are in the process of unraveling internalized transphobia, and in the easily observable worst cases these people are very literally redefining shit so that ‘actually all afab women are trans, spiritually, all afabs have dysphoria, we are all Equally oppressed by Males uh i mean cis men <3’ because, let’s be honest, they know that the moment they call themselves trans they get to say whatever they want about gender no matter how harmful it is to the rest of us. and those ideas spread like wildfire through the afab shethey “woman that’s not a woman” community that frankly greatly outnumbers other types of trans people online, because many of those people just do not have the experiences that lead you to really understand this shit and have to push back against concepts of gender that actively harm you as a trans person.

like that’s all i want to be able to say, is Things Are Different For Different Groups. and a willful ignorance of these differences leads to bad rhetoric controlling the overall discourse which gets people hurt. and even when concepts arise from it that seem positive and helpful and inclusive, in practice or in origin those ideas can still be upholding shit that gets other people hurt. like, i don’t doubt that many people are very straightforwardly happy and comfortable with an identity like ‘afab nb lesbian on testosterone’ and it would be ridiculous and hypocritical for me, ‘afab nb who wants to pass as a guy so he can comfortably wear skirts again,’ to act like that’s something that can’t or shouldn’t exist. it’s not about the identity itself, it’s about the politics that are popular within its community, and how the use of identities as moral labels with like, fucking pokemon type interactions for oppression effectiveness which directly informs the moral correctness of your every opinion and your very existence, is a shitty practice that gets people hurt and leads us to revoke empathy from each other.

like. sorry this is all over the place and long and probably still sounds evil because i haven’t thought through and disclaimered every single statement. but i’m like exhausted from living with this self-conscious guilt that maybe i’ve turned into a horrible evil truscum misogynist etc etc due to feeling upset by this seemingly inescapable approach to gender in lgbt/online circles that like, actively harms me, because when i vent with my friends all the stuff i’ve tried to explain here gets condensed down to referencing ‘she/theys’ as a category and that feels mean and generalizing and i genuinely dislike generalizations but the dread i feel about that category gets proven right way too often. it’s just like. this is not truscum this is not misgendering this is not misogyny. this is not about me decreeing that all transmascs have to be manly enough or dysphoric enough and all nbs have to be neatly agender and androgynous or something, i’m especially not saying that nb gender isn’t real lmao or even that it’s automatically wrong to partially identify with your asab; this is not me saying you can only medically transition for specific traditional reasons or that you don’t get a say on anything if you aren’t medically transitioning for whatever reason, now or ever. i just. want to be allowed to be frank about how... when there’s different experiences in a community we should like. acknowledge those differences and be willing to say that sometimes people don’t know what they’re talking about or that what they’re saying is harmful. without the primary concern being whether people will feel invalidated by being told so. because these are like, real issues, that are more important than politely including everyone, because that method is just getting vulnerable people drowned out constantly.

#source on much of this: existing as a transmasc on tumblr for years and years.#i stopped identifying as any sort of 'woman-aligned' pretty much right before the ridiculous 'all afabs are dysphoric' stuff #but it sure did still make me hate myself and feel like a silly cowardly ugly little girl for wanting to transition!#and back when i WAS a she/they i definitely was falling for 'men are bad maleness is bad always inherently :)' rhetoric #not in the modern form outlined above but in the like. brainlessly parroted from 'baeddel tumblr' form #which was still like 'you can escape being a Bad Person by either becoming or admitting you are a girl :)'#and the only acknowledgment of trans men in this ideology was like. 'well i guess they feel like they have to do that :\'#'too bad for them. im not saying they shouldnt transition but you know. men suck though <3'#it was bad for me it was bad for other people so im saying from experience. Fucking cut it out! the end

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straightouttaneptune · 4 years

Text

You’ll come with me, won’t you?

Pairing: Harley Quinn x Reader

Warning: It’s different. Joker is a bitch. Reader becomes kind of morally weird as the fic progresses. People die.

Summary: Y/N is a baby psychiatrist, who just started out. Suddenly, she is trusted with the most feared case of all. Harleen Quinzel. Y/N thinks it’ll be good for her career, or will it?

A/N: I couldn’t find a good ending to this for the longest time, I’m so glad I did. Also, this is for my 500 followers fic queue :) Thank you for the love, darlings✨

—————————————————————

“Harleen Quinzel?”

That was a name you’d heard before. That was a name everyone’s heard before, at least once in their lives. But it was not the name that had surprised you, but it was the fact that her name was right there on top of your long patient list.

“Yeah, congrats Y/N. She’s pretty famous around here. Straighten her out and you’ll probably be in the big city in less than a year.” Your colleague, Megan peered into your books over your shoulders and patted your back affectionately.

You were one of the new psychiatrists in the business, and you had been dealing with criminal minors, the less mental mental patients and all the clients that newbies would usually handle. Being fresh out of university after holing up in the labs and libraries, you needed to gain some experience first before taking on the really hard cases.

Or... that’s what you were told.

“C’mon, Meg, you gotta know more than that. Why would they pass her case to me? She’s a rank SS psycho.” You pushed, looking up at her through your lashes in a slightly accusatory manner.

She gave you a look that asked; “Do you really want to know?” And you nodded.

“Well, I heard the other docs, the guys who were like 10, 20, hell, 30 years into the business, they all got their brains scrambled by... this girlie.” Her index finger landed on the profile photo of Harley Quinn, an apologetic look in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes, not necessarily at Megan, but at whoever it was that tried to deal this card to you. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s cruel, but you can always turn it down, y’know?” Megan set her books aside, her left arm cradling your slumped shoulders.

“Yeah... But I might not.”

Megan’s dropped gaze snapped back up, her eyes wide with surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s a good way to kick-start my career, I guess.”

\|/

“Hello, new doc.” The moment you entered the room, you regretted making this decision immediately. Harley Quinn sat in a big contraption-looking chair, her hands and feet shackled onto the armrests and legs of the seat. Her platinum blonde hair was untied and unkempt, its bottoms still dyed red and blue, although it seemed to have faded over time.

The only thing dividing the space between you and Harley was a metallic table bolted on the floor, wide enough so even if Harley broke off her arm shackles and reached for you, she wouldn’t be able to touch you. You swallowed your nerves and entered the room with a confident stride, smiling sweetly at the guards as they closed the door with eyes of concern.

“Hello, Miss Quinzel.” You thanked heavens that your words came out right, especially in front of a woman who could sniff out people’s fears from thousands of miles away.

“You’re the first girl I’ve had.” She mused, her eyes twinkling with mischief. But the light in her eyes has lost its original color, you thought. She looked much more lively in photos taken way back then. When she was just a psychiatrist.

“Hm. I guessed that it would be nice to have some heart to heart, female to female.” You reassured your anxious self calmly in your head, repeating the words ‘you got this, Y/N.’

“Do you know why I’m here, and not... Damien? Who usually comes in for your check-ups?” Stowing your clipboard away on your lap, you continued.

“Yeah. Before him was another guy, then a grandpa and just... a buncha stupid-lookin’ guys. But I didn’t like them.” She replied as if it was the most simple thing in the world. The files back in the company would argue differently. Every single guy, either was tormented by her psychotic attacks or totally gone insane from her mental tricks.

“Are you going to do the same thing to me?” You asked, not really knowing what answer to expect. Your eyes remained soft, a small smile gracing your lips as you waited for her answer.

“No. I like ya.” She answered quickly, shrugging and adverting her gaze away to look down at her shackles. “Can I sit down like you?” She shook her wrist lightly, the chains rattling against the armrest.

“Maybe next time, Miss Quinzel.”

“There’s a next time? Yeah!”

You internally smiled to yourself, what a successful human being she would’ve been if not for a man like Joker to ruin her life. Right then, you vowed to whatever higher power was out there, that you’d get Harley Quinn to break free from his spell.

The people in your office were surprised, to say the least, that you were able to keep up your visits to the prison, and that an amateur therapist like you could get the queen of Gotham in a tight little leash. You didn’t like to think about it like that, but rather that she trusts you better than any of the others.

The weekly visits became 2 days a week, and from weeks of good behavior, Harley was allowed to be without handcuffs during her sessions now. You weren’t afraid she’d leap up and strangle you, because of some sort of connection the two of you formed after all those times spent together.

“Hey doc, why can’t you visit me more ‘round here?” Harley pouted, interrupting the current therapy session with an abrupt comment.

You looked up from your clipboard, dumbfounded. Why would she want to have you around more?

“Harley, I’m just your therapist.” You tapped the end of your pencil against the material of the clipboard, locking eyes with the woman. Anyone could see that she was starting to look better, particularly her eyes. They looked more human, compared to the hollow shell they used to be.

“I know, Y/N. But I’ve been doin’ some thinkin. It’s pretty fuckin clear that Mister J isn’t coming for me, and the suicide squad was probably just a one-time thing. And... You’re all I have.” She admitted, slowly sliding down from her pipe chair and laying down on the concrete floor.

The wooden chair you sat on scraped against the hard floor as you pushed it back. Standing up from your seat, you walked over to her in 3 steps. You kneeled down beside her, her skin just inches away from you. “Do you want a hug?” You questioned quietly, your voice softer and more inviting than usual. Harley felt this too, sitting up in a millisecond just as the offer left your lips.

“Yeah.” She almost crawled over to you, her arms wrapping around your neck desperately. That would’ve been terrifying if it was out of context, but she actually wasn’t trying to kill you. She genuinely just wanted a warm embrace.

You felt her slender torso tighten and loosen as if she was trying to repress a sob. Hand carefully sliding over her back, you whispered; “Let it out.”

And she did.

\|/

Time flew by as you continued to work on her case, and you fell into the worst situation a psychiatrist could possibly be in while working. You grew emotionally invested in your client. As a friend, who cared for her well being and happiness.

Maybe... even more.

You still didn’t know if you could trust her though, you managed to keep a cool head and your mind was rational, but that only confirmed the fact that Harley wasn’t playing any tricks on you. That you were genuinely becoming attached to the beautiful prisoner.

Harley, on the other hand, did intend on ruining you at first. Make them run back to where they came from crying, so no one would disturb her again while she waited for her puddin.

But it was all starting to feel different with you.

“Hey, doc?” Harley called out from inside her electric cage. She was being a little bit mischievous that day, and she pulled an armed guard against the buzzing bars when he wasn’t looking. He probably died, she guessed.

But she didn’t like that she couldn’t be near you during your sessions. So a man died, big deal!

“Can you let me out?” She pleaded in the sweetest voice she could muster, calling out to you who was currently propped up on the usual desk, writing down some notes on your clipboard.

“No, Harley. I don’t have the keys to your cell.” You replied without looking up, but you could imagine the cute pout that Harley had when you denied her of something.

“But would you open it if you did?” You looked up at that question, seeing her smiling from ear to ear now, anticipation glowing in her eyes.

“Maybe. I know you won’t hurt me.” You smiled back at her, watching her facial expression carefully. How would she react if you showed some warm friendliness towards her? Could she possibly return to the life she used to have?

“Maybe I will, doc. You don’t know what goes on in here.” Harley leaped up to her cloth swing she’d made for herself, her now almost completely platinum hair draping down her back.

“I hope you won’t hurt me, then.”

You couldn’t forget that split second where Harley’s eyes looked more humane than it ever has been for many, many years.

\|/

“Warning. Warning. Escape Attempt in Sector 9H11.”

The sound of the speaker and the blasting alarm merged together in a chorus of chaos, guards and officers running around to stop whoever the escapee was.

It was 9:30AM and you were just about to enter the asylum for your shift, when this sudden noise almost blasted your ears off. Before you could process what was happening, a bomb went off right next to you, making you scream and clutch your head as you ducked.

The debris fell everywhere along with broken pieces of concrete, and you just stayed there trying to collect your thoughts. Right when a random hand grabbed you by your wrist.

“Hi, doc. I was lookin’ for ya. You’ll come with me, won’t you?” Harley pulled you to the side, hiding the two of you behind a few bushes. Her eyes were electric making you realize that the true “Harleen Quinzel” you’ve been trying to look for is right in front of you now.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.” You didn’t hesitate to take her outreached hand. Your mind had already been made up since the first time you laid your eyes on her.

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x y/n #harley quinn x you #dceu #dc #suicide squad #birds of prey #harley quinzel #harley quinn fic #harley quinn imagine

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bunnirs · 4 years

Text

Scarlet Crossroads

Chapter 5: Trust

Previous/Next

Scarlet Crossroads Masterlist

For being one phase, it seemed to carry on forever. Sure, you were a patient person, but that didn’t mean you liked doing nothing for such an extended amount of time.

To be honest, you weren’t just doing ‘nothing’. You were running in the woods, your shoes covered in mud, the cold mist hitting you in the face as you took large steps. You were confident in your tracking abilities, knowing that if you somehow lagged behind, you’d find the group quickly. (Not that it would ever happen though.)

That’s why you didn’t hesitate to stick behind with your newfound companions, Leorio and Kurapika, as they trailed behind Gon and Killua.

You must say, their progress was surprising. Neither of them seemed a bit tired, nor worried. It was comforting in a way, their innocence that is. Looking at them could be compared to still water, resting in its permanent tranquility, unbothered by the unforgiveness of the other elements.

You hoped it would forever stay that way, but of course, life is cruel, and so are the people who walk with it. Breaking from your thoughts, you notice that the two pre-teens had wondered ahead, separating themselves from the group, or maybe even someone in particular.

There was no question as to who it was, which made it all the more amusing to you. The magician hadn’t even tried to hide his aura, the lust practically seeping off of him. As to why your brother affiliated with him? That answer remains unknown.

You glance at your comrades, Kurapika and Leorio matching paces, their breathing evening out with each other. As much as the two liked to argue, they sure did match pretty well. It was as if their personalities were made to clash, often butting heads about some small thing that really held no interest to you.

As you listened to the men ahead of you, you almost wanted to scoff. It seems you weren’t the only one pissed off at Hisoka’s advances. The more you glanced at them, the more they stood out to you. They were running in a formation that looked almost thought out, as if they all knew each other. Most likely a gang of some sort.

Whatever the case was, Hisoka got lucky. He’d be able to let loose some of his pent up bloodlust, meaning, he’d maybe calm down for once.

You merely scowled at the thought, knowing that it would never come true. Hisoka didn’t know the definition of calm, well atleast, your definition of it. You knew that these men wouldn’t complete this exam, much less this phase. They wouldn’t even get to go home to whatever families they had, hug their children, wives, whatever they had waiting for them.

But they chose to come here, knowing the consequences behind it. Murder upon contestants was legal, knowing that as long as the examiners were safe, they didn’t care what happened to you. How comforting.

As you watched Hisoka from afar, he seemed to be luring the group into a separate direction, and as much as you’d like to follow him, you had to stick with Leorio and Kurapika.

Minutes felt like hours, and to your dismay, the fog only grew. If it weren’t for your background, you might have fallen for the tricks used by the creatures of Swindlers Swamp.

Speaking of which, it was pathetic watching these men subject to the noises around them. They gave in to their fear, letting their feet guide them to something even greater.

You stopped as soon as Kurapika and Leorio began to slow their pace, almost like they were out of breath.

“What’s up?” You questioned, your feet digging into the mud below you. “Something wrong?”

Leorio cried out in shock, pointing ahead of him. “Of course somethings wrong?! Where’d the other contestants go?!”

Kurapika was wide eyed, watching as something began to move closer.

Your eyes widened, your arm reaching behind you to grab something from your bag when suddenly someone walked past you. They looked to be in a daze, the contestant clearly confused.

As soon as he got close enough to the object, he disappeared with a yelp, causing Kurapika to jump backwards.

It seems you hadn’t been careful enough, and led them right into a trap. Hopefully, by saving everyone’s asses, you could make it up to them.

With that in mind, you rushed forward, shoving the two men behind you just as the ground tore apart.

Large portions of earth were kicked towards you, your arms crossing as you braced for impact. Before they could touch you, you appeared in the air, landing gracefully on your feet, away from the destruction.

Before you stood a Noggin Lugging Tortoise, a monster who used food shaped spikes on their back to lure prey towards it. It was smart, but due to its size, it wouldn’t be fast enough to keep up with you.

You looked back towards Kurapika and Leorio, the other contestants running away from the large monster. How pathetic, but at least they knew they couldn’t win this fight.

You ran to join the duo, standing back to back with them, your eyes tracing the air around you. From what you could tell, three of the monsters had circled around you, all preparing to crush their jaws down on your tiny, fragile, human bodies.

Before they could do that, you rushed forward, pulling a long metal staff from out of your bag. It’s sharp edges gave off a harsh glare from whatever light was exposed, making it look all the more deadly.

It crackled with energy, the engravings turning a deep red, glowing with what seemed to be the power of its owner.

You sprung upwards, the edge of the staff making contact with the brittle skin of the beast, immediately piercing through it. It let out a shriek, trying to shake you off, but it was of no use.

The area you had punctured turned a deep purple, almost as if it was completely out of blood.

That’s when you pulled back, jumping down from your suspended position, your staff spinning in the air as it made it back to your hand.

The large monster fell to the ground, its eyes drooping to a close. It shook the ground as it made contact, almost comparable to that of an earthquake.

You whipped your head around as you heard the shouts of Leorio, who had gotten caught in the mouth of another beast, wood being his savior as it prevented the jaw from closing.

That’s when Kurapika jumped into the air, his wooden blades piercing the monster's eyes, his eyes filled with nothing but worry for his friend.

That’s when you noticed a difference between the two of you. He did it to save his friend, while you, did it to strengthen the trust they held for you. He did it out of selflessness, while you did it for your own confirmation.

You scowled, the staff shrinking in your hand as you stepped forward, catching Leorio as he dropped to the ground, his weight almost taking you off guard.

Kurapika shouted a quick “Let’s go”, before sprinting further into the fog, knowing you’d be close behind.

As you quickly followed his example, you glanced down at Leorio, who seemed to have experienced whiplash. “You alright there, tough guy?”

He blushed at the current predicament, somehow forgetting the large monster that was growling from behind him. “Y-yeah! Of course I’m fine! You can’t really expect that to stop me, can you?!” He huffed, flailing his arms, almost hitting you in the face. “And can you put me down?! A woman isn’t supposed to be holding a man like this, it’ll give someone the wrong idea!”

“Like what? I saved your ass?” You question, your eyes narrowing. “Cause it’s true.” You paused, looking behind you at where the monster used to be. “That fall would have broken a tailbone, which could interfere with the performance of the exam.”

“Well, I didn’t! So, I guess what I’m supposed to say is, thank you! But seriously, put me down!” Leorio complained, sounding almost like a child.

“Alright fine.” You rolled your eyes, dropping him on the ground, his rear making contact with the wet ground. His head shot up at you, a strong glare on his face. “What? You said to put you down.” You smiled, glancing at Kurapika, who seemed to mirror your expression.

“Not like that-“ he groaned, sitting up to wipe off his pants. “Just- whatever! I don’t care! Let’s just go before we really get behind!”

“Right, like we aren’t already.” You muttered, starting to match paces with Kurapika, your eyes trying to read his features.

Kurapika’s own eyes met your gaze, his orbs widening a bit when he noticed you were staring. He bashfully looked forward again, his teeth baring down on eachother.

“Also, are you gonna explain the weird stuff you did back there?! I kinda wanna know who I’m traveling with! You haven’t said a word about yourself, and you expect us to trust you?!” Leorio had caught up, looking at your bag, almost like he was going to rip it from straps that kept it close to your back.

“Leorio, she doesn’t have to say anything if she isn’t interested, not everyone is nosy like you.” Kurapika mumbled. “She saved you from that fall, you should be thankful and leave it at that.”

You chuckled softly, a genuine grin on your face as the boys argued over you. “It’s quite alright actually.” You spoke, your voice clear as day, almost as if water had been released from their ears. “I don’t mind sharing some things.”

“Great! Now, I’ve got a few questions.” Leorio pondered, his eyes trailing your body, a cheeky smile on his lips. “What’s your-“

Before he could finish his sentence, your hand collided with his mouth, clamming it shut.

Ahead of you stood a clearing, Hisoka and the group from before standing in front of each other, a wicked smile on the magician's face.

Shit.

TYSM FOR READING CHAPTER FIVE BABES!!! THIS IS WHERE WE STARTING GETTING INTO IT!!! IM NOT THE BEST WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING SCENES, SO I HOPE THIS WENT WELL?? IM HOPING SCARLET CROSSROADS WILL HELP ME GET GOOD AT ACTION SCENES HAHAH!

ANYWAY, THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING SO CONSIDERATE LAST WEEK! I was seriously going through something AND I don’t think It would’ve ended well if It weren't for the HUGE AMOUNT of support I got from you!!! I love you all so much, so please, take my love. If you ever need anything, send me a dm or an ask, I’ll answer it in a heartbeat.

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