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ponreviews · 2 years

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Itaewon Class: The Ultimate Revenge

Categories: Drama

Overall Rating: 6.5/10

Synopsis:

Park Sae-ro-yi had every reason to want to seek revenge on the massive corporation Jangga, as he was sent to prison after they messed with someone dear to him. What better way to take down the biggest in the food industry than opening a competing restaurant in the alleys of Itaewon? With the help of the friends he meets along the way, we see just how far Sae-ro-yi is willing to go.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

Review:

If you asked me at the beginning of the drama, "Is Itaewon Class a good k-drama?" I would answer "YES!" with no hesitation. However, by the end I do not feel the same way. To start, the story has a great concept. Sae-ro-yi's father worked for Jangga, and he was killed by the eldest son (Jang Guen-won) of the CEO of Jangga (Jang Dae-hee) in a hit-and-run. Considering the already soured relations between Sae-ro-yi and Guen-won, things escalated when Guen-won wasn't punished for the crime and instead Sae-ro-yi was convicted for assault and attempted murder when confronting Guen-won. Instead of wanting to kill the two men responsible for his father's death, he chose another path of revenge, free-market competition. By opening up DanBam in Itaewon, he begins his quest for taking down Jangga by becoming their biggest competitor.

Sae-ro-yi easily became a favorite MC for me. I can easily say, Park Seo-joon did an amazing job with his character. Sae-ro-yi is kind of aloof, but he's educated. Yes, he didn't finish high school, but he had time in prison. He used that time to learn business so that by the time he got out, he would be prepared to open DanBam. Of course, it isn't perfect, hence Jo Yi-seo coming in. She was also one of my favorites early on. She's very blunt and strong-willed. I wish I could say that this is true through to the end, but unfortunately, I can't honestly say that now. Frankly, the two rival women in this series both annoyed the hell out of me by the end of it. Maybe part of it has to do with the age gap between Sae-ro-yi and Yi-seo, but most of it is how little Yi-seo develops in the story. I think if the drama didn't push the romance plot so much, the two main women wouldn't have been so annoying in the end.

I really wish that I can say I like the story too. I can say that the concept is there. It's why people want to watch it in the first place, but as the story progressed, it kept getting messier. On one hand you want to have a messy story. The drama is what everyone craves hence "k-drama," but like our bedrooms, we want an organized mess. Itaewon Class deviates from the organized mess to a junkyard, especially once the time skip hit.

If I didn't hate the story before, the time skip really did it for me. While the concept was impressive at the start, the execution especially towards the end took a nosedive. I cannot look you in the eye and say Itaewon Class is even a 7 because of this. I really wish I liked it, but all the little things add up. Of course, I will explain more of why I feel this way.

As I already mentioned the female leads are not characters I would root for. I've talked about the age gap briefly between Sae-ro-yi and Yi-seo, but it's not the only thing about their relationship that makes me uncomfortable. In fact, both Yi-seo and Soo-ah remind me of someone I know in real life in their own ways. Long story short, this girl is keen on the idea that she doesn't like my friend romantically and would rather keep things platonic. However, at the same time, she actively flirts with him when they're together and sees every girl he's friends with as competition and actively tries to keep him away from other girls. Now, the last part isn't like Yi-seo, but you can't deny that she did have Geum-soo wrapped around her finger. Soo-ah on the otherhand, fits that description to the T. She could never admit herself that she fell for him until it was too late. She led him on and couldn't accept it when he moved on.

It's hard to root for characters who remind you of toxic people in your life. Whatever redeeming quality they have is down the drain when you have a comparison like that. Of course, my opinion on the two women is just my own, and the reasons are specific to my experience (or more specifically, my friend's). My other qualms aren't as specific though. One thing that the show is prided on is the representation of the characters (a black korean man and a trans woman). While it's nice to see, the characters become tokens for their demographic.

The scene where the DanBam group tries to enter a club is one scene that felt really out of place. It's great that issues like racism and transphobia are being addressed, but it feels tone deaf. To-ni's character was unjustifiably prohibited from entering the club because he was black. Yi-seo was also not helpful in the situation as she sided with bouncer instead of To-ni (one of many reasons why I couldn't get behind her character). Even when apologizing it didn't seem genuine. Sae-ro-yi retaliated by tagging graffiti on the club wall calling them racist. Other than that scene, the only other relevance is the grandma admitting she was racist and didn't approve of his father seeing his mother because she was black. To-ni has such a small subplot that it barely has any significance to the plot and makes his character just a token black guy in the show. Every plot point surrounding his character points to him being black, and it just didn't sit right with me.

Then there's Hyeon-yi. Her character is handled a little better than To-ni's but similarly, it doesn't sit right with me. I was confused at the start because I knew from the beginning that she was a girl, but everyone else was referring to her with "he/him" pronouns. When it came to them running into her at the club looking very femme, the shock of her being trans didn't hit as hard. The narrative that she's trans felt forced. When she was absent from DanBam, it was explained that she had transitioned and was in recovery. However, when she came back the only thing that changed is her fashion sense. Suddenly she was able to afford luxury clothes that made her "look convincingly feminine." The way the story handles her character is messy. Honestly though, the fault would pretty much lie with casting and costume design. Granted, the actress, Lee Joo-young, is not part of the blame. She did her best to represent the character well, and in fact, Hyeon-yi is my favorite character despite my misgivings.

Still, casting chose someone who isn't trans to play a transgender woman in Itaewon Class. While there is the argument that this would mean actors would need to be out of the closet before getting casted into trans roles (completely valid btw), it all comes down to the environment in which trans people are not being fully accepted. We can go back and forth saying that Korea is still working on their ignorance when it comes to this topic, but regardless of their intention, it needs to be addressed, if not as critique, hopefully a lesson for future Korean adaptations/productions and the representation of LGBTQ+ stories. Sure it will take time for transgender people to be able to express themselves more openly in a country that's still very traditional, despite their modern practices. Creating the space that allows them to be themselves will open opportunities to accurately portray their experiences in Korean media rather than cis people picking at only what they know and filling the spaces with assumptions.

If anything, I still applaud the story for addressing issues like racism and transphobia in Korea. Without even an attempt, we wouldn't even talk about it on any platform. There's room to grow, but Itaewon Class is on the bottom of the progression ladder. The only thing we can do now is hope that it can get better from here. Unfortunately, it doesn't change my overall opinion of Itaewon Class. The main women are irredeemable in my opinion and we're talking about the same story that has Jang Geun-won and Jang Dae-hee.

#ponreviews kdramas #itaewon class #spoilers

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koolfrogz · 3 years

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Misconceptions Regarding MCC14

Recently there have been a load of misconceptions regarding many of the controversies that happened this MCC, especially on Twitter and Tiktok, so I thought I would make a giant post detailing these and why they are wrong so I can scroll through my dash in peace.

1. Hbomb purposely abused a glitch in HITW that got Illumina and Mefs banned from MCC on the practice server.

This one can easily be broken down into three components: 1. Misinformation about the glitch itself 2. Misinformation about the Mefs and Illumina incident 3. When does abusing a glitch count as cheating?

Firstly, the glitch Hbomb used is actually very common in HITW and has been around since the game was first introduced. The devs know about it and have not made any complaints about it because the usage of the glitch itself is heavily luck based (depending on the ping of the player) and does not guarantee a win to any player who does get it. Take for example PearlescentMoon who has used the glitch repeatedly throughout many competitions (i.e MCC 11), yet has not gained any significant advantage through it because, again, there is still an element of skill required to use it. This glitch is not only known by the devs, but has been used before in HITW. It is not something new that Hbomb exploited as a means of getting ahead.

Secondly, the Illumina and Mefs situation is not at all comparable to the Hbomb one. Illumina and Mefs were using a completely different glitch which did guarantee a win to the player because it allowed the player to afk on the platform and allow the blocks to pass through them. They were not banned for exploiting this glitch, but rather reprimanded by Scott and the devs for not reporting it to them sooner. Mefs and Illumina are still allowed in MCC and only didn’t compete this time because the teams had already been formed.

Finally, in regards to the idea of cheating itself when using such a glitch, the idea that what Hbomb did counts as cheating is absurd considering past MCCs and the various glitches which have been abused as well. I’ve seen a lot of people mention the infamous Wilbur Glitch and I think its a perfect example. The Wilbur Glitch is from the game Rocket Spleef which was not played this MCC but certainly will be in the future. The glitch involves the player becoming stuck in a block and seemingly floating in the air allowing them to basically secure a win without admin intervention. This glitch is much more OP than the glitch Hbomb used, and we have even seen admins purposefully try to kill players for using it (i.e Philza MCC11). However, even when players have purposefully attempted to get it (Wilbur, Phil, Quackity, etc.), I have never seen the fandom react so negatively as to accuse them of cheating. It is not fair to accuse Hbomb of cheating when he abuses a glitch which has been in the game for ages and not do the same with your favourite creators who do a much more busted glitch as well. Personally, I don’t consider either of these cheating, but that’s my opinion.

2. They removed Parkour Warrior because Dream was too good. That’s not fair.

Okay, this one is very simple as its just not true. This falls under the assumption that Dream was the only player to finish Parkour Warrior which is not true (PeteZahHutt completed the course twice and was the first to ever complete it in MCC 6). While the reason the Parkour Warrior map was destroyed in MCC 11 is said to be that EpicLandlord destroyed it because “he was annoyed at how good Dream was at it”, this is mainly a joke (think of the Ranboo being banned from MCC situation, while Ranboo isn’t in MCC there’s no actual beef and he’s not actually banned.) Secondly, if you weren’t around for Parkour Warrior when it was still in MCC, or have only ever seen Dream or Pete’s POV, you might not know, but Parkour Warrior was a miserable game mode (think Build Mart/Bingo but ten times worse because there was no chance to improve your placement other than just being good at Parkour). The game was 10 minutes of pure rage and frustration from competitors, which while entertaining at times, wasn’t the best for content when only two POVs in the entire competition were deemed watchable. This also wasn’t good for a competition because it meant that only two teams at most were progressing (and by a large amount) due to one player while the rest lagged behind. It gave the teams which had Pete and Dream a huge advantage and made the game unfun and unfair to everyone else, so they revamped the game (to Parkour Tag) to make it an even playing field where everyone had a chance to win (in the spirit of MCC).

3. Scott had an unfair advantage in the competition and should be removed from the Dev Team or the Participants List.

This one is slightly more nuanced and may not have a definitive answer. Yes, Scott does have a slight advantage due to being a part of the dev team in every MCC. However, this MCC was definitely an outlier in that fact. Scott has been known to share info and tips with his teammates in past MCCs, but it has not truly impacted their performance on a significant level because the players knew a majority of the information anyways (the game rules, maps, etc). This MCC was unfair because Scott had a bigger advantage than originally assumed (it doesn’t mean he did it with malicious intent, it just means there was a severe oversight when designing the maps and explaining the rules to players). Also, the idea that Scott was guaranteed a win because he was part of the Dev Team is ridiculous and untrue.

Scott has always been treated on the same level as any other player and has not been giving special privileges because he helped work on the tournament. Take for example MCC 8. Scott was teamed with Tommy, Philza, and Wilbur, and they were doing very well! Then came (wait for it), Ace Race. Scott experienced a glitch which allowed him to remain with his Elytra activated for half the course and allowed him to skip over multiple checkpoints and placed him in first. However, by skipping over these checkpoints the game corrected his placement and put him in last. This was seen as not fair at the time and the Red Rabbits did complain, to which Noxite responded that there was nothing they could do and Scott would just have to finish the round as normal. This glitch severely impacted the Red Rabbits standings and possibly led to them not being able to compete in Dodgebolt that MCC. Yet, Scott was never treated differently than any other player throughout the glitch despite being a part of the Dev Team.

For the next MCC, I certainly think that Scott should be allowed to play as normal. I truly believe this MCC was a fluke, and although I too felt a little salty seeing my favourite go from 2nd to 30th, I believe that it is not worth getting up in arms about it because at the end of the day there is a whole season of competitions where any team has a chance to win.

4. They should have restarted the round and allowed the participants to retry the map.

While I too would have loved to see a rematch for Ace Rae, I would like to say that I, and probably many of the people playing, knew that it wasn’t going to happen. Noxcrew is very strict about the way MCC is run, it’s why I think it works so well. However, this means that they will not budge on these rules even in the face of something such as this competition’s Ace Race debacle. In the entire time of MCC, Noxcrew have only once ever restarted a round. This was in MCC 7 during Battle Box after there were server issues causing extreme lag for everyone (and Wilbur and Magistrex blew up their own teammates). It was unlikely that they were going to restart the round due to the mistake, and honestly, it might’ve caused more trouble than good to reset the points and the entire round of Ace Race.

5. The Spirit of MCC

This last one is more of a general statement than a misconception, but I would like to say that I have seen a lot of newer fans confused and upset about this MCC’s outcome. However, I would like to remind everyone that at the end of the day MCC is a for-fun tournament which brings MCYTs of every background to compete and have fun. Yes, there is an element of competitiveness as it is a competition, but it goes against the very spirit of the competitions to be toxic and rude in spite of not winning or placing lower than you expected. At the end of the day, it is a MC tournament that has no monetary prize other than a golden coin. It is immature to slander, spread misinformation, or send death threats and harassment over such a tournament and I wish shame upon anyone who’s first reaction to not winning or their team not winning was to do such a thing. MCC is a brilliant tournament that has changed the game for how MC Competitions have been done, and it is disheartening to see the hard work Noxcrew and Scott have done be disrespected as such. I hope next MCC the fandom can come together and make this the lovely fandom event it once was.

#MCC #scott smajor #hbomb #dreamwastaken #mcyt #wilbur #tommyinnit #philza #quackity #sapnap #georgenotfound #tubbo #mcc 14

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majingojira · 2 years

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Why Wasn't Cassandra Cain Invited to the League of Lazarus Tournament?

This has been a thorn in many people's sides from the start. Assuming that the winner of the Lazarus Tournament would be declared the BEST Martial Artist in the DCU.

To those, I can just say: Unless Karate Kid is involved, it doesn't count. And it wouldn't matter because he'd win, straight up.

So, the whole idea of "This Tournament Is Going to Show Who the Best Fighter Is in the DCU" was naught but air.

However, it is even more not the case now that the full reasoning behind the Tournament has been revealed. And we can give full reasons why Cassandra Cain wasn't invited.

The 9th issue reveals that the whole thing is a ruse to give a demon a proper host body so it can destroy the world, so... yeah, this tournament doesn't prove much. Or anything. Anyone claiming that 'winning' this proves they are the best is a dupe.

But, more importantly for our purposes, note the word used here: Deadliest.

"But that's just semantics!" you say? Well, let's take a look for a second at how people were recruited in this thing.

They had two known ways. Some people worked to try and find them via various tournaments:

Or just sending a bunch of ninjas after a person to see how they fare:

Cass doesn't really bother with underground fight rings, and the League itself would have all their zealots survive their encounters with Cass, which goes against what they want. So, they wouldn't.

Bruce similarly wasn't contacted, nor was Dick Grayson. Dinah Lance, Ted Grant, Jean-Paul Valley, Judomaster II and III, Bane, Catman, Onyx Adams, Cheshire, Shadow... There are a lot of people missing from this.

And none of them were alerted to this/it was kept secret from them either entirely, or until it was largely too late. Damian only learned because the League of Lazarus sent guys to test Talia and he just happened to be there. In other words: Dumb Luck.

Furthermore, the lack of these other luminaries really highlights that this isn't about a "The Bests Martial Artist Ever" Tournament. It's a ruse. Still, we need to look at things logically. Why weren't these people contacted?

As I see it, there are two possibilities for all of them to be missing.

1. The People Listed, by and large, are not killers. This is looking for the deadliest. Not only would such a person not be open to the Lazarus Tournament, but most likely would try to subvert it.

2. They lack the mindset/need to prove themselves to such a desperate degree that would draw them to a death tournament in the first place. Bane, Cheshire, and Catman would consider such a tournament but would consider it a waste of their time and too great a risk for what they wish to achieve. The incident with Talia proves that this can occur.

The League of Lazarus was NEVER running a "Best Of" Tournament. Just "Good Enough" to suit their purposes without upsetting their end goal. They weren't competitors. They were sacrificed. Once you realize that, everything falls into place.

That only leaves one question: The Kung Fu Fighter Trio. They are only addressed in the text, giving justifications as to why they are not there.

Blue Shrike cheated to defeat Ben Turner/Bronze Tiger.

The Secret Society paid off Shiva not to show up.

And Tigress claims to have defeated Richard Dragon, which is a pickle because... he's on the island with them. Well, Richard Dragon Jr. is. Thanks to a terrible Green Arrow story, the whole thing is a bit of a mess.

Poor Richard Dragon...

Still, the question is raised: Why was Shiva paid off?

Well, according to the author, she's too strong. The League Members were there to kill every participant to power up the demon -- since they would have 3 lives and the participants only 1, they would have an edge against most people. Shiva (and Cass) were too much for that contingency.

So, we have not one, but 2 reasons why Shiva was not invited, and 3 why Cassandra was not there.

So, of all the people who could have been in the tournament, only Richard Dragon got screwed over by it. But that was mostly because of what was done in the pages of Green Arrow in the Nu52 and no one has bothered to fix it.

Yet, at least.

One can hope...

I may do a further breakdown of how the tournament worked out the 'big names' that did get in but didn't get very far.

#Robin #Damian Wayne #Cassandra Cain #League of Lazarus #Richard Dragon #Ben Turner #Lady Shiva

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sunny-sings-sooth · 3 years

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Daphne

Words: 4.5k

TW: Sexual assault, abuse

Here's my retelling of the myth of Apollo and Daphne! Highly experimental, as I usually write in first person and not so poetically. Hope you enjoy, and if anything doesn't make sense lemme know and I will add some context here. (Also FYI some of the dialogues are pulled directly from Homer's narration)

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Phoebus Apollonas had been alive too long.

He was young by god standards, barely over a millenia old, and still one of the youngest Olympians. And yet he had grown exhausted. He’d been suffering the curse of life long enough to see the boy he used to be -- Phoebus -- die. The demise of the boy began when, in attempt to protect his sister Artemis, he had committed his first murder and thereby lost her forever. The boy decayed further when he’d held the corpses of his sons in his arms. And he’d finally killed the boy with his own hands when he turned his grief-fueled wrath on mortals. Phoebus, the bright, the innocent, the golden prince of Olympus, was dead. All that remained was Apollonas, the destroyer, the terror, the monstrous god of plague.

Except he no longer wished to be Apollonas. Apollonas was addicted to alcohol, drowning himself in it so that he wouldn’t have to face the memories that had murdered Phoebus. Apollonas had struck his younger brother Hermes, the only friend he had left, in drunken rage. Apollonas was despicable and deserved death. He could never be Phoebus again; that he knew and had accepted. But perhaps he could rid himself of Apollonas and become just Apollo. That did not mean erasing Apollonas; he had too many crimes to pay for, and running away would be a dishonor to all those who had suffered at his hands. He would repent for everything he had done as Apollonas, and thereby recreate himself as Apollo.

The first thing he needed to do was to break alcohol’s hold on him, which meant distancing himself from Dionysus. He didn’t want to abandon his youngest brother, but the temptation to drink was too strong in his presence. He hoped Dionysus would understand, and that he would one day be strong enough to bridge the gap of his creation.

He had been clean for three whole days. It didn’t seem like much -- blink of an eye in the lengthy lives of gods -- but that alone had taken him all his willpower. In the absence of the gallons of drink he had been consuming daily, not only was he plagued by memories and sheer self-hatred, he suddenly became highly attuned to the gossip that trailed him. Every moment on Olympus, hundreds of eyes were trained on him, and the whispers never escaped his sharp ears. It wasn’t that he was not used to being the center of attention, but rather the harsh truth of their statements. Phoebus Apollonas is a murderer. He flayed Marsyas alive for daring to challenge him. He curses anyone who questions his authority. He has killed thousands with his plague arrows. He is a monster. He knew these were all true and that he deserved to be pierced by such words, but the anxiousness caused by his withdrawal made them unbearable, and he had to escape to the woods. Here he found solace. Here he could work to slowly put himself together again until he was strong enough to face those who he wronged.

If he hadn’t been so lost in thought, then perhaps he would’ve heard the flap of wings before Eros was standing before him. He nearly dropped the silver bow that he’d been restringing and looked up to meet the other god’s gaze. Eros was the only man Apollonas considered a possible competitor in terms of beauty; his fair skin was smooth as a pearl, his wings the color of one, his features the aspiration of every artist’s portrait. And yet there was something unnerving about the other god. Perhaps it was his hair that, while comparable to a young maiden’s blush, was also the same shade as blood. Perhaps it was the deep red hue of his eyes, made of crushed hearts and rubies. And perhaps it wasn’t his appearance at all, but the mystique that surrounded him; he was the fourth being to come into existence and was old as time itself, and that was one of the only two things Apollonas knew about him.

“Phoebus Apollona,” Eros stated in greeting, and Apollonas hated how wrong it sounded, though he couldn’t tell if it was the names themselves or simply the one who spoke them.

“What do you want?” He couldn’t hide his irritation. The other thing he knew about Eros was that he was the god of love, and love had only ever caused Apollonas pain. He had no reason to like the god nor felt the need to veil his displeasure. All he wanted was the solitude necessary to rework himself.

“I was simply admiring your bow, oh He Who Shoots From Afar.” There was no missing the mockery in Eros’s voice, and his eyes gleamed as he gazed at the weapon. “Why, your skill is almost comparable to my own! Perhaps with some effort, you can become the greatest archer in the land.”

“Are you implying that you are the greatest archer?” Eros nodded, and one glance at the winged god’s slim arms and the modest bow slung across his back sent Apollonas into a fit of laughter. It was many moments before he could calm himself enough to speak. “What have you to do with the arms of men, you feeble thing?”

“I am merely suggesting I may be god of archery as you are god of plague.” Apollonas’s head snapped up at the idea, and his hands curled into fists as he stood, towering over the shorter god. If Eros was a painter’s fantasy, then Apollonas was a sculptor’s. His toned body was the epitome of perfection, the ideal balance between strength and beauty. He was well aware of this fact, and though he rarely preferred to use his appearance for intimidation purposes, Eros’s insult necessitated such action.

“Do not lay claim to my honors,” he hissed, his sky blue eyes glinting with divine power. Archery was the one constant he could always rely on. With his bow and arrows, he could protect and punish, wound and save. It was the one part of him that stayed no matter if he was Phoebus or Apollonas or whoever, and he’d be damned if he allowed this worthless winged wretch to even suggest taking that from him.

“Let us put it to test, then,” Eros declared, unfazed by the archer’s anger. What would the ancient deity have to fear from the youth? He was well aware of his capability, and little did Apollonas know he was falling into another trap, his emotions and naivety deceiving him once more. He was but a pawn in Eros’s game. “What say you to a battle of skill?”

Apollonas did not grace the other with an answer, lifting his weapon and drawing an arrow from his golden quiver in response. The toned muscles of his back flexed as he pulled back the string and released, and the arrow had barely gone forth an inch before he sent forward another, and then yet another. His arms were but a blur as arrow after arrow went flying, striking the most minuscule of targets: the pupil of a fly’s eye, the thread of a spider’s web, the stem of a single olive. Apollonas did not stop until his quiver lay empty, and he took in the perfect shots before him that seemed almost artistic by his hand. No matter how low he may have descended in these past years, there was no denying the masterpiece he created from the most basic of weapons. This was his domain. He couldn’t keep his lips from curling in conceit as he turned to Eros.

“That gear becomes my shoulders best,” he declared, setting his bow back beside his quiver to draw emphasis to the weapons that had adorned him for centuries. “I wound my enemies; I wound wild beasts. My countless arrows slew the bloated Python, whose vast coils across so many acres spread their blight. You and your loves!” Apollonas couldn’t hold back his scoff at the mention of Eros’s inferior work. “You have your torch to light them. Let that content you. Never claim my fame!”

“Your bow, Phoebus Apollona, may vanquish all, but mine shall vanquish you. As every creature yields to power divine, shall your glory yield to mine.” At Eros’s threat, an enraged response was making its way up Apollonas’s throat, but before it could spill off his tongue, the love god drew his own golden-tipped arrow. In the blink of an eye, he shot it forth right into the other god’s heart before taking flight.

Apollonas stumbled back, a gasp more of shock than pain escaping him as he clasped his hands over his chest, fingers fumbling for the arrow. However, it had already dissolved into him, its magic making its home in his body. He felt something ooze into his heart and bloodstream, shoot up his spine, ensnare his mind. He turned his attention inward, trying to identify the invader, but he could not locate it, nor could he compare it to anything he had ever felt before. What had Eros done? He lifted his head, searching for the god, but instead his gaze fell upon another figure altogether.

There, a few feet away, stood the sweet river nymph Daphne. He knew her -- he knew the names of many of the nymphs that resided in these woods -- but beyond a passing glance and a murmured greeting, she had never caught his attention. But now… he couldn’t seem to look away, his lips parting in awe as he stared at her, dumbfounded. Had she always been so breathtaking? How could he have missed such a beauty? Her dark locks flowed down like a waterfall of ink. What it would be to hold that silky hair between his fingers, to braid it and adorn it with flowers and beads! Her eyes were a startling shade of not blue, not green, but something between the two, and he could spend hours drowning in their depths. Her figure had the slightest curve to it, the outline of a river, and he imagined that her body had been crafted to fit against his perfectly. He saw her, loved her, wanted her.

“Daphne.” Apollonas whispered her name, marvelling at the nectar-like flavor that coated his tongue. If just her name was so sweet, then how must her lips taste? Looking was not enough. The urge to find out was unbearable, the earlier argument stolen from his mind entirely as he found himself tossing aside his bow and quiver. What did archery matter when he could master the bow of her lips instead? He would claim it, make it and the rest of her his and his alone. He took a step forth, a giddy smile alighting his features.

“St-stay back,” the nymph stammered, icy fear coiling in the depths of her stomach. She could read his intentions clearly on his face, from the crazed look in his eyes to the wolfish grin he wore to the way his hands reached towards her. Daphne knew all too well what this man planned to do with her, and that should she fall into his grasp, she would not be able to stop him from having his way. So when he took another step forward, she turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Apollonas gaped only a moment before rushing after her, an arrow released from its bow.

“Daphne, please wait! I am no foe! You don’t need to fear me!” he cried out after her. Daphne did not answer him, her thoughts only on escaping. Thorns and brambles tore at the bare skin of her calves, yet she refused to slow down. “You run as if I am a wolf and you a lamb, but that is not so! It is love that spurs me! Don’t fly so fast, lest you fall and wound yourself!”

“Leave me be, you horrid man!” she shrieked, not stopping even as her dress got caught on the surrounding plants and began to tear, revealing her to him little by little. Apollonas’s brows furrowed in worry at the sight of bloodied cuts on her legs. From within him a voice called out: What are you doing, Apollona? Why are you tormenting this poor girl? Leave her be! You will not have your way with her! But before the voice could say more, he caught a glimpse of the bare skin of her thigh, and everything left his mind. His conscience was once more bound and gagged by Eros’s power, forced to watch it all in horror. Speaking of the god of love, he also watched, flying unnoticed above them, yet he felt only amusement from the sight. The sheer terror that had contorted Daphne’s face and drawn panicked tears from her eyes made him smirk, and Apollonas’s frantic yelling drew out peals of laughter. They had both bent to his will so easily, and he was eager to see how this played out.

“You run because you do not know. I am no peasant, no shepherd!” Apollonas called out to her again. She was only afraid because he didn’t know who he was. He knew the moment she realized his true identity, she would stop and turn to him with a blessed smile. “I am the son of Zeus, prince of Olympus, lord of Delphi. By me things future, past and present are revealed. I shape the harmony of songs and strings. You will be happy as my bride, dear Daphne! I will see that your every wish is granted and that no desire goes unfulfilled. Please stay!”

“No! My only desire is to escape you!” Yet this would not be granted, as her body was beginning to fail her. Try as she might, she could not outrun Apollonas; he was strong from years of training and battle, and though she was swift and sure-footed, she had used up all her limited mortal strength. Her legs trembled with every step, her lungs two pits of fire in her chest. And so her traitorous body came to a stop as she gasped for breath, and Apollonas finally had her. He held her hip tightly, freezing her in place. Had he been in his senses and had control over his own body, he’d never have done this, and his conscience screamed within him. But he was deaf to it, the lust coursing through him silencing all else. His eyes soaked in her bare skin when he would’ve shielded them, his hands pulled her closer when he would’ve let her go, and he was ready to claim her when he would’ve done anything but this crime.

“My love.” His warm breath brushed against her ear as he leaned down, pressing his lips against the pale column of her neck. Daphne gasped and tried to pull herself away, but his grip was too strong, utterly unbreakable. How could she escape a god? She was helpless and frail, trapped and alone. There was no one to aid her, no one to stop Apollonas from running his hands down her body and forcing himself against her. And then he was turning her around, wishing to taste her lips, and a final plea escaped her.

“Help me, Peneus!” she screamed for her father. She knew her father could do nothing against an Olympian, but perhaps he could do something to her, and she would accept any escape from this fate. “Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form, which has brought me into this danger! Let me be free of this man from this moment forward!”

Daphne’s prayer was answered, and she was changing.

A stiffness had taken over her body, the swiftness that had protected her for so long sacrificed to escape Apollonas. Her arms lifted of their own accord, her fingers elongating up and her feet rooting into the ground. The dark waterfall split into a hundred streams that lightened to a soft green. Her curved figure fell away as her body thinned into a single arc, her legs fusing and her hands reaching higher and higher. Bark was creeping up from her extremities, down what were now branches and up what had transformed into a trunk. It conquered her shoulders, her chest, her neck. A soft sigh, her last breath, escaped her just as her lips were encased.

Apollonas’s lips met rough bark that cut at his soft skin. With a small gasp, his eyes flew open and he looked straight into Daphne’s piercing eyes. The waves in them had finally calmed, as the storm that had tormented them could no longer ripple its waters. He stared into those beautiful orbs, breathing her name, and watched as they shut forever.

Apollonas couldn’t tear his gaze away, his mind still unable to process the transformation that had unfolded before him. His hand trembled as he raised it, placing flat against the trunk of the tree. A steady pulse graced his fingertips -- a heartbeat. Daphne’s heartbeat. She was this tree, this sorrowful laurel tree, lost from him forever. His legs gave out beneath him as he wept, wrapping his arms around her and leaning his head against her bark. And yet the lust hadn’t left him, and he was kissing the wood over and over, whispering her name and an endless string of apologies as the skin of his lips tore and blood dripped down his chin.

“Oh, Daphne. My Daphne,” he cried, yearning what could’ve been. He thought the image of her smiling sweetly at him, kissing his cheek and calling him ‘husband’, was a vision, a prophecy promising that he could be the source of her happiness until the end of time. But he was wrong. It had been a fantasy, a dream that had slipped out of his grasp. And now she was gone. His sobs doubled in intensity as grief wracked him, and he didn’t notice Eros approaching until he spoke.

“Isn’t this a beautiful sight?” the god of love asked, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Phoebus Apollonas, broken and filthy inside and out. A slave to his desires. Do you accept defeat, oh lustful one?”

Apollonas turned to the other god, and the grief in him sharpened to rage. His beautiful Daphne, the love of his life, had been stolen from him, snatched right out of his hands, and the cause of it all was simply standing there, taking amusement in his loss. He reached for his bow only to find it missing, and so he lunged forth and tackled Eros to the ground, wrapping his hands around the smaller man’s thin neck.

“You monster,” Apollonas growled, his sky blue eyes glowing with divine power. This horrid creature had taken his Daphne from him and deserved nothing less than death. Apollonas would deliver him to the gates of Tartarus himself if necessary. The man must pay for his crimes. He increased the pressure, causing the other god to choke under his iron grip. “You did this!”

“Oh no, Apollona. I merely gave you a nudge. The rest was all you,” Eros gasped out, managing to laugh even as his windpipe threatened to collapse altogether. The sun god’s brows furrowed at the statement, and Eros subtly waved his hand, calming the effects of his magic. “And who knows what you’ll do next if I keep nudging you forth? You’ll be giving your father quite the competition, won’t you?”

The spell finally broke, and Apollonas’s grip slackened as the lust drained out of him and the truth became clear. He had chased Daphne. He had chased Daphne with the intention to force himself on her. He had tried to kiss her and claim her as his own with no care for her terror. He pushed her so far that she thought it better to lose her humanity than to be his. Oh Fates, what had he done? You are the most wicked person to live, Phoebus Apollona. You are no better than your father. You did this to that poor girl. You ruined her.

“N-no,” he whispered, backing away from Eros and clamping his hands over his ears, but it was in vain. The voice came not from outside but from within, where his conscience was finally free to reclaim its owner. And so Apollonas relived the incident that had just taken place. He saw himself chase after her just as Python had chased him and his family, heard his plans to ruin her just as he believed Orion had intended with Artemis, felt himself force himself upon her just as Zeus did to his mother Leto. Never in his life had something been so achingly clear to him as this truth: while he had spent his whole life painting others as wicked, he had been the most terrible monster all along. Apollonas doubled over, spilling his insides onto the earth as though he could purge the maliciousness from his body. But alas, he could not; he was born the destroyer, and he had truly lived up to his name. He could not tell if his scream remained in his soul or ripped out of him. He didn’t know if it was tears or fire spilling from his eyes. All he knew was the terrible truth that he has been blind to all his life.

“You are weak, boy. But I can make you strong,” Eros declared, towering over the hysterical god. He wondered how Olympus would react to seeing their golden heir broken on the ground, sobbing like a spoiled child. He could only imagine they’d be just as entertained as he. Still, the time for games was over. Making sure to avoid the pool of vomit, he crouched down and placed a thin finger under Apollonas’s chin, forcing the young god to meet his gaze. “Here is my offer to you: vow to me on the river Styx that you will follow my every command, and I will save you from further humiliation and heartbreak.”

“What, so I can spend my life blind and deaf, a mindless slave to a heartless man?” A dry, humorless laugh slipped out of Apollonas’s lips. He had seen and tasted truth, and he would not give that up to become Eros’s puppet. He scowled and spat at the love god’s feet, glaring into those blood-red eyes. “That is what I think of your offer.”

“I expected the god of intellect to be wiser than this, but I now see the difference between you and Athena.” Eros sneered, wrinkling his nose at the sorry display. “Do not be hasty, godling, and ponder my words carefully. I am offering you invulnerability. I will harden your heart to stone so that none may hurt you. Without your greatest weakness, you will be unstoppable. You will never have to feel such pain again.”

Apollonas paused for a moment, considering Eros’s claim. To never feel this soul-tearing agony again? To be free of the organ that rebelled against his mind at every moment? Now that he contemplated it, the offer was quite tempting. Without his heart, he would only have to rely on his body and mind, both of which were immaculate. He would indeed be unstoppable, finally the golden heir of Olympus he was expected to be. And yet… his gaze moved to the laurel tree, and a single leaf drifted down before him. Apollonas caught it in the palm of his hand, carefully tracing its pale green veins. If he were to remove his heart, to lose his ability to feel, would that not be a dishonor to Daphne? After all he had put her through, did she not deserve to be mourned and remembered? And what about all the others, every mortal that had suffered at his hand? He would be spitting on their graves by choosing to run away from the pain that, in the face of what torment they had lived through, was nothing. And so Apollonas rose to his feet, stretching to full height and then kneeling down so that his face was merely inches from the love god’s. “Rot. In. Tartarus.”

“You really should have chosen the easy path,” Eros muttered, the smirk sliding off his face as he grit his teeth. Apollonas wanted to regret? Then he’d give him reason to regret. His hands flew to Apollonas’s temples, freezing the younger god in place. Eros’s eyes glowed, twin pits of lava, and his voice boomed as he invoked his ancient power. “I curse you, Phoebus Apollona. May love be your enemy and your heart a traitor. May you be powerless to control the whims of your desire, and may you be the cause of pain to those you love, over and over until the end of time itself.”

Apollonas fell to the ground once more, struggling as the curse rooted itself deep in his soul, at the very essence of his being. By the time his throat had grown too raw for him to continue screaming, Eros had already flown away, leaving behind nothing but punishment. He found himself crawling back to the laurel tree, to Daphne, leaning his forehead against her trunk as he wept. He wept for her, for those before her, and for those after her.

“I’m sorry, Daphne,” he whispered, holding on so tightly the bark dug into his skin and realizing how powerless he really was. “I’d change you back if I could, sweet nymph, but I cannot. Instead, I swear by the river Styx, I won’t let you be forgotten. I bless you so that your leaves are never shed and instead will be woven in wreaths that will become a symbol of honor, the very thing I tried to steal from you. Let mankind see me to be the monster I am if that means your memory will live on. And even if your name no longer forms on the lips of men, they will live on eternally upon my own. This I vow to you.”

With this, he lay one last touch upon the tree before turning away, trudging his leaden feet back to Olympus. He heard the whispers as he arrived in the city, but he paid them no mind and made way to his house. Barely moments after he entered, his fingers scurried over the wall until they found the loose brick that he yanked out and tossed aside. His hands trembled in a moment of hesitation before reaching in. He grasped the bottle of his poison, his secret, his solace. Apollonas lifted it to his lips, tears running down his face, and drank his worries away.

#Apollo #apollon #apollo deity #greek mythology #greek gods #greek myth #daphne

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breath-of-the-twink · 3 years

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Vaati Character Study pt. 4

Third question: How exactly does a castle become a dungeon, and where did all these monsters come from???? Why did he spare the energy?

Wow this is the longest one so far (almost 900 words). He was really going off about this and having a grand ole time.

A bit of a warning for light themes of mind control? More of a magical influence from Ganon/Demise. Also mention of child harm/death but mostly his doubts about if that's really what he wants.

Enjoy!

Vaati raises his hand, and the brick floors below him crack and rumble. The mortar breaks away as the very earth below the castle rises up, and once the barrier is breached, new bricks spill out from below to organize themselves into perfect new walls and structures.

The instant an idea came to his mind, it would appear; such was the power of the Light Force which the girl beside him provided, adding its power to the cap of wonders he'd stolen from his so-called teacher.

Hmm… Torches here, pillars there… Yes, yes, this ought to distract him well. Perhaps he will even tuck his little tail and run when he sees this. Hah! As if either of them even had a tail to speak of.

Something familiar, deep in his chest, instructs him further.

Yes… As things should be… These eyes… On every wall, in every doorway, the windows, the banners, the carpets, the torches, I shall see every move this pathetic little hero and my former 'Master' make, and no detail will escape me. I shall see the exact moment that he should fail, get discouraged, turn tail and run. If I am to be a god, I should grow accustomed to being all seeing, all knowing… The sight of the Goddess herself. I shall show her… I’ll show her what true power means.

The flick of his finger, the wave of his arm, they’re for his own satisfaction as he raises more earth, digging out caverns beneath his castle to provide material for the maze he crafts.

"To me, o creatures from the darkness! Unbound by the Hero's blade!" Vaati booms, watching monsters take shape in his new domain. It's as if soot had flown through the walls and congealed with hatred in the air, forms slumping to the ground and growing their armor, weapons blooming in their hands when they stand.

The former Minish smirks, eyes widening with the thrill of power rushing to spark at his fingertips, creating life itself from nothing.

He drags them upward through the air, summoning forth skulls and bones that break through the surface to join his growing forces.

"Rise up! Restless spirits from beneath my castle! Come forth to serve and defend your master once again!"

Steel and fabric encase them, and claws sprout around their fingertips, providing them defenses and a sense of indebtedness for restoring their forms to something usable. At least, that was what Vaati expected of them. Of all of them. A servitude owed to him by their mere existence, and an honor to be at his command.

The tug in his chest grows stronger, and he feels it consuming him once more, soaking in its approval.

My power is unmatched. I will break the Hero’s Spirit once and for all, even if he finds me, I can destroy him myself. If I am to rival the Goddess, then first I shall break her toys. Wisdom is already within my grasp, and with his courage snuffed out, finally our wishes shall all come true.

Our wish…

‘Ours?’ When did it… When…

Vaati stumbles back on his heel, leaning one hand on the platform where the princess stood as he watches the monsters disperse into his maze.

That child… Master Ezlo… This princess… They’ll be killed. Their blood will be on my hands through these creatures, and I will see it with my own eyes. Do I really…?

He looks behind him, into the blank, shocked eyes of the little girl he’d turned to stone, thinking of all of the others in the castle he’d petrified to keep them out of the way. He’d hoped they would scare off that little hero. And those competitors, those guards before this, to reach that damned chest, they were thrown, but not killed.

And Ezlo, he could have taken that foul old man’s life on the spot. In the moment, it was simply more entertaining to make the old bird into what he’d created, leaving him to watch with awe as Vaati gained the power that the sage had promised but never delivered to his apprentice.

A human form would show him what he was truly capable of, what Vaati’s tiny form could never have achieved, the potential that his master had ignored all these years. And after all, the wishes the cap granted were intended for a human anyway.

For months, years even, as Vaati watched its creation, that was what the little whisper told him.

‘He would see. They would all see…’

Vaati looks out further into the chasm he’d created out of this castle that used to seem like it could be bigger than the whole world. The whole world was such a massive place, it had been all of his life, what did he…?

What did he want from it again?

If they aren’t left to see, to bow before me, what was this all... for...?

That familiar presence pulls within him. The same one that was sucking the Light Force from this girl beside him. It envelops his mind and heart like a shroud and soothes his worries and fears, just as it had done for so long.

No matter.

It doesn’t matter.

None of it does.

Only revenge.

Only Power...

part 1 // part 4 // part 5

#vaati character study #vaati #minish cap #minish #the minish cap #I sorta wanted to add a thing about him questioning when the golden goddesses fell out of favor but couldn't find a place for it?#the curse/Ganon/Demise really hijacking this boy's insecurities in order to make good on old threats #he really was just a kid #he said 'this year' when he turned Ezlo into a hat so the timespan is pretty short I guess #Man though when things started getting intense I can imagine he got at least a little scared #also hahaheehee triforce references #also writing corny villains in a corny setting is SUPER FUN he's having a great time #architecture without limits #also sorry that this was daily and then I missed a day #idk why I'm apologizing the words weren't Going but it was kinda cool that I did one 3 days in a row #hope I can keep going though I have a few more ideas #dunno if his diction is in character either he doesn't have a lot of speaking lines ingame I found out LMAO #anyway thanks for reading the tag novel #writing #textytext

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pparkerpoetry · 3 years

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Face Reality (Part 7)

Title: An Arena to Watch Your Sins Fight (will they ever be free?)

Summary: Purpled wakes up, and they have a discussion on where he'd been. (he hates his past) Ranboo looks around and realizes that this family is the best thing to happen to its members. (he needs it, too) Puffy snitches on how much Sam actually cares. (she does, as well) (and sam? sam finally snaps. but they don't have to know about that)

Part 1 Part 8 Masterlist

_______

Purpled woke up a day later. It was unexpected, mainly because he just… woke up out of nowhere. It had been a pretty slow day until that point, then he stumbled out of the room that he’d been put in, eyes glossy and breath panicked.

Sam stood up immediately. “Whoa, hey, buddy. Are you okay? What are you doing up?”

Purpled had just looked up at him, no recognition in his eyes. “What..? Where am I?”

“You’re at my base, in the Dream SMP. Do you remember who I am?” Sam asked, putting an arm around him and guiding him to the couch. He removed his arm quickly though, at the flinch from Purpled.

“Yeah… you’re Sam, but… how did I get away?”

“Get away from what?” Ranboo asked, just entering the room. “Fundy and I were hanging out in the woods and you just collapsed in front of us.”

Purpled appeared to get agitated. “I… Why’d they let me go?”

“Who?” Sam said softly. There was no response. “Hey, just start at the beginning if you want to, okay? Where were you… let’s start with what you remember, okay? What’s the first thing you remember?”

He gulped. “I remember Tommy and Tubbo leaving to… to go fight Dream. They were going to say goodbye to everyone, but I didn’t show up.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Purp, that was years ago.”

The younger man nodded. “Yeah. I, uh, I left after that because I didn’t want to be there… I didn’t want to be there when Dream brought their bodies back.” Ranboo had left, and brought back the rest of the people who lived there. Purpled looked shocked to see Tommy and Tubbo. “How did you survive?”

Tommy shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell you later. What’s going on?”

“He’s telling us where he’s been.” Sam said, and motioned for Purpled to continue. “Go ahead.”

“I… I went to the Bedwars server to try and clear my mind a bit, get some practice. Take a break from this SMP, and such, but after one of the games…” He started shaking a bit, and Sam wanted to hug him, but held back. If the other physical contact was any indication, Purpled wouldn't appreciate it.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

He still did. The memories were coming back, faster now. He almost wished they didn’t, because they weren’t pleasant. “After one of the games, a group of men approached me.”

____________

Purpled sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. It had been a tough game, and he was tired. He just wanted to go home, wherever that was. Did he even have one? He wandered over to collect his prize, though he’d probably end up giving it to someone else since he didn’t really need it. It’d just get stolen from one of his chests in the SMP, anyway.

After, he stumbled towards the lobby with the intent of joining another game. He probably should’ve stopped a while ago. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop what happened next.

Three men went up to him while he caught his breath on a bench. One of them had a long beard, and he was the one who spoke. “You look pretty tired, ay? I saw you fighting though, you look like a pro for someone so young.”

Purpled straightened his posture in an effort to look somewhat lively. “I’m not that tired. Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”

One of the others, the one with a sick moustache, held out a water bottle. “Here, you want a drink?”

His mind was already foggy enough that he didn’t remember all of the warnings that he’d been told since he was young of the group that kidnapped Bedwars players to make them compete in illegal fighter rings. Purpled took the water, drinking it. Almost immediately, his legs started to give out. What kind of a potion was the water laced with?

“Whoa there, let me help you.”

Purpled didn’t know which one said that. He feebly tried hitting at them, but he could barely move. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t. His nerves were going haywire, someone was taking his arm, he had to move-”

He blacked out.

He woke up in a cell, and as his mind slowly came back to him, the panic set in. He knew the answers to all his questions, but he didn’t like it. It seemed like ages, but at some point, someone finally came to see him.

“Purpled, ay?” It was the one with the beard. He chuckled at Purpled’s silence. “Not much of a talker, huh? Well, I hope you’re more of a fighter in the arena than you were when we grabbed you, otherwise I might have to get a new source for information.”

“What?”

The beard-man smiled. “Ah, he speaks! Well, I’ve got a source that told me you were a formidable competitor, and wouldn’t be all that missed, so having a fighter from the famous Dream SMP will bring in the big bucks. I’m taking chances with you, none of the others wanted to nab a kid. Somethin’ about morals.”

Purpled scowled. “What happens if I refuse to fight, or if someone comes to find me?”

“I don’t think that you’ll find either of those an issue. We’re well secluded, and if you don’t fight, well,” The beard-man held a sword to Purpled’s throat. “Suddenly it won’t be much of my issue, anyway, will it?”

Purpled swallowed thickly and fell silent. He hoped someone would look for him, maybe.

They didn’t.

Each competition was it’s own little hell. He tried to fight the first time he was brought out of the cell, but they learned that it was just easier to drug him. He’d wake up in a base, in an arena surrounded by an audience, and when the shrill alarm went off, the fighting began. The first few times, Purpled would refuse to fight, but he learned that the pain that came afterward wasn’t worth it. He grew used to looking away from his opponents. He hated seeing the light dim, knowing what they would go through for failing to win.

Better them than him, though. In this world, it was kill or be tortured. He was never given the luxury of death to dull the pain.

He quickly rose in the ranks, challenging the best fighters in this underground arena. As he improved, so did the security. He learned to only use enough of his abilities to win. He’d let them underestimate him, because if no one was coming to rescue him, he’d have to do it himself.

The first time he tried to escape was during a competition. About half-way through, when security was the weakest, he barged through the doors and overpowered the guards. He got pretty far, but he was tackled and hauled back to his cell in a muzzle and a straitjacket. He wasn’t given food for a while. He wasn’t even visited.

The next time he saw someone, it was when they grabbed him to fight again. They had kept him constrained, so they didn’t bother with the drugs, which he liked. He felt alive again.

He tried to get away again, and though he was stronger, the security was better. He managed to exit the stadium, only to be shot down. He was dragged back to his cell by his hair, which was greasy and dirty by now. They’d taken the arrow out of his leg, but they weren’t too gentle about it and didn’t bother bandaging it. He spent that night shivering, hands still bound, wondering if this was where he died, in a puddle of his own blood.

A medic came the next morning. They couldn’t have their biggest source of money dead, but they could let him suffer.

He won the next competition, and the one after that, and the one after that. He didn’t hesitate anymore. It wasn’t worth it. He was hurt for any pausing of his blade, and it was just easier to win.

Purpled became the crowd favorite. The noise of their cheers hurt his ears, and soon, he was broken. He came out of his cell willingly, he wasn’t tied up for movement, he just walked with his guards to the arena. He barely remembered life before the fighting ring.

It was only after he blacked out during a competition, woke up surrounded by bodies and liked it, that he realized he needed to leave. He would lose himself if he stayed any longer, and he was all he had left.

He started putting a plan together, but it took time for him to finally escape. He started blacking out more, waking up victorious. He started smiling at the bloodstains on his clothes. He hated himself for it. He knew his opponents would just respawn, but the punishment they faced for losing would be worse than death.

Everything started to be worse than death. Maybe even life.

Purpled took a different approach to escape the third time. It was years after he’d been taken. He doubted anyone outside even knew his name anymore. He waited until he’d won the competition to start going through the doors. They only sent one guard, because they thought he was compliant.

He walked slowly, as if defeated. When he saw the big double doors, he sprinted. He had a head start, and the guard was taken by surprise. He took out a knife that he’d bought and hidden, and when he heard the footsteps behind him as he approached the portal to leave the arena, he held it out.

He spoke for the first time in what felt like forever. His voice was gravelly. “I know how much I am to you.” He flipped the blade to rest against his side. A stab there wouldn’t be fatal, but anything else would. They wouldn’t be able to hurt him if he stabbed himself, because they would risk him respawning alone, while everyone was here. “No one get closer, or I’ll do it.”

Purpled stepped into the portal. He set his destination as the Dream SMP. Maybe he’d be safe there.

He made it pretty far until he heard someone chasing him. He didn’t hesitate, and plunged the blade into his side. It hurt like a bitch, but he needed to escape. Adrenaline flooded his body as the blood flowed out, and he heard a voice yell at everyone to stop running after him. If he died and respawned, they’d need people back in the Bedwars server to catch him.

Purpled ran into the nearest forest he could find, hoping to lose the people still chasing him. He must’ve succeeded, and then he was just running blindly with no destination.

His side was bleeding still, and his head was starting to become fuzzy again. Distantly, he heard voices, but they sounded soft. Not harsh. He took his chances and stumbled towards them.

He emerged from the trees, and could feel himself fall. The voices sounded miles away, but he heard his name. The darkness called to him, and this time, he had hope that it would be better when he woke up.

_____________

“And, yeah. Then I woke up here.” Purpled laughed nervously.

Sam exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe no one noticed how long you’d been gone. I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized.”

Purpled shrugged. “Not really your fault.”

It was silent for a moment, and Ranboo couldn’t help but sympathize with Purpled. He’d heard stories of the illegal fighting, but he never thought he’d know someone affected by it. He was horrified.

As he looked around the room, Ranboo realized that so was everyone else. He was a very good noticer, he liked to think. He saw that everyone in the room was messed up in their own ways, but their dysfunctional family was a place for them to find comfort, recovery, and peace.

He saw it in Fundy, in the way that he always made himself smaller when someone raised their voice, and how he never liked to be left alone in the house, but he loved to curl up at the foot of one of the beds in the bedroom that everyone shared despite there being plenty of others.

He saw it in Tommy and Tubbo and the way their eyes would get glassy while they dreamed and show reflections of battlefields and violence. He saw every time Tubbo woke up with a gasp from dreams colored red, white, and blue, and reached for Tommy. Tubbo would begin preening Tommy’s wings for comfort, slow and meticulously. Tommy always let his family touch his wings, but anyone else would get snarled at. When Tommy woke up to Tubbo petting his feathers, he always would wrap one around the smaller boy and snuggle back into the blankets. Their breathing was softer after that, when they clung to the other as if they would disappear.

He saw it in Purpled, especially, in the next few days. Purpled always froze when someone touched him, and insisted on getting his own food, but he fit into the family dynamic well. He liked movie nights especially, particularly stupid comedies that made him laugh. Purpled let down his guard in the walls of Sam’s house, and didn’t feel the need to constantly be armed. He wasn’t scared of blacking out or liking the smell of blood.

He even saw it in himself. He wasn’t worried about being abandoned again, he wasn’t scared of his powers. He might forget to speak English in the mornings every now and then, he might wake up crying and need help to stop, but he let himself fall into the embrace of his family when he needed the help. There was always someone to help me.

He maybe saw it in Sam the most. No one was completely sure of Sam’s past, but the way he hissed every time someone startled him, or tried to hide how he coughed up gunpowder occasionally probably had something to do with it. Sam was so focused on building, whether it be with materials or a safe family, that there had to be something in his past with destruction. No one asked, though. They just leaned against his shoulder whenever he wedged himself on the couch between them.

Ranboo’s mind wandered further. He hadn’t seen Puffy or Niki in a few days, and though he wasn’t concerned, he missed them.

“I think I’m going to see Puffy this afternoon. Does anyone want to come with me?” He asked, breaking the lengthy silence that had settled over the room. They were all just lounging, but Sam was looking out the window towards the woods. He was letting out a soft sizzling noise, and walked towards the door.

“I don’t think so, Ran. You wanna walk with me a little bit, though?” Sam asked, and Ranboo got up to follow.

“What you looking at, big man?” Ranboo asked, trying to ignore how Tommy was rubbing off on him.

“Oh, just thought I saw something that I want to double check, and you’re going this way anyway.”

They reached the edge of the forest, and Sam held out a hand to make Ranboo stop walking. He looked around a little, then lunged towards one of the bushes. He came out with one hand grasped around the collar of a man with a large moustache.

“So you were the one I heard the other day. Are you one of the people who were hunting Purpled?” Sam hissed, and Ranboo knew his throat was burning with the feeling of gunpowder.

The man flinched at the harshness of Sam’s voice. “I was just looking for him. He’s been staying with us for a while and he ran off, we were hoping you knew where he went?”

Sam crouched and squinted. “How much of an idiot do you think I am?” Ranboo was surprised at the coldness in Sam’s voice. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you right here for how much you hurt him. You’re lucky I don’t just slit your throat for coming here and threatening the safety of my family.”

The man cowered. “He doesn’t have any family. I don’t even know who you are.”

Sam laughed, but it wasn’t the kind one that Ranboo knew. This chuckle was harsh and unforgiving. “You wouldn’t have a reason to. I tend to stay in the shadows until something needs to be done. I suggest you leave now, and I suggest you don’t come back.”

Ranboo liked to think that he knew what Sam was planning on. So, once Sam had stood back up and let the man go, he asked, “How long of a head start are you giving him?”

Sam laughed and started leaving. “Not long.”

(Sam was gone for awhile. They got the news a few days later that someone had gotten into one of the fighting rings and dismantled the entire operation. No one was sure how, nor who it was. One was dead: the man with the long beard. There were small holes from explosions, and the air smelled of gunpowder. No one would come for Purpled after that.)

Ranboo shrugged and continued on his journey, eventually finding himself on the steps of Puffy and Niki’s house. He knocked on the door, and Niki opened it with a smile and pulled him into a hug. “Hey, Boo! It’s been a hot minute, where’ve you been?”

“Just hanging out! Tubbo, Fundy, and Purpled have joined us, so the bedroom is getting a little crowded.”

Puffy walked over as Ranboo was ushered into the house. “Didn’t he spend an entire day renovating his base to have bedrooms for all of you guys though? I remember he showed me blueprints and they all had names on them.”

Ranboo paused. “You mean… He planned on housing us?”

Puffy shrugged. “Yeah, it was either him or me. We figured all you guys deserve a break, some peace, after all you’ve been through.”

Ranboo hummed. “Interesting.”

“Just don’t bring it up to him, though.” Niki piped up. “He’ll never admit to it. Too humble. Tea?”

“Yes, please, dear!” Puffy said, and Ranboo said he’d have some too. It was incredibly domestic, just sitting at the dining room table, sipping tea, and talking about everything. Niki mentioned how she was working on a garden, and Puffy said she was going to make an apiary, so Ranboo sat and listened to them chatting.

He told them about the new additions to the family, and they said they’d have to bake cookies for them or something. They ended up making brownies that afternoon, and Ranboo helped. By the time they finished, it was dark, so the two women convinced Ranboo to stay the night and they’d go with him to deliver the brownies in the morning.

When the group of three did go back to Sam’s house, they stayed for most of the day. Why would they leave, when the couch was so comfy, and the laughs were plenty, and Tommy’s wings needed preening?

#ranboo #purpled #awesamdude #tubbo #fundy #captain puffy #morning #nihachu #dreamsmp #tommyinnit #angst #fic #ao3 #hurt/comfort #not much comfort tho tbh

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mccall-me-maurice · 3 years

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So This is Just Me Indulging on That Superhero AU

Fun Fact: This AU is over a year old, starting in March 2020 and still developing. I will 100% be drawing this au, and probably making a comic series with it.

Side Note: This post is really long, read at your own risk. It also doesn’t include all of the information of the au, just what I want to elaborate on

Okay So Here’s some Background Information that I want to include because with the comic pages it will be mentioned, but not in the detail that I would like it to be:

AOE - Alliance of the Elements: Consists of Jack Merridew, Roger Volkov, Maurice Bellomo, and Robert Evans. Is Controlled By PotG

PotG - Protectors of the Globe. Global Alliance that trains those with powers and protects the Earth from Extra Terrestrial threats. Funded and run by a member of each developed country.

The Runaways - Those who left PotG in a illegal fashion, exposing secrets about the organisation as they left. Members Unknown, Ralph Allebach is the known leader and only identified member.

Each Characters’ Powers:

- Jack Merridew: The Element of Fire, When angered it comes in fierce blasts that burn anyone it touches who isn’t protected. His powers falter in rain or underwater.

- Ralph Allebach: Controls the Weather, whenever he cries the sky cries as well. He can overcharge when using too much lightning energy, causing a sudden collapse. He can fly as well, along with being able to manipulate Roger’s powers to an extent, if he is focused enough.

- Roger Volkov: The Element of Air, espionage, and infiltration. He is the combat trainer of the AOE and can summon tornadoes and extremely high winds.

- Dyria “Simon” Cortés: Dyria is an alien from the planet Nagneon, born as the heir to the throne. His planet differs heavily from Earth and the PotG gave him the nickname “Simon” and began using he/him pronouns instead of they/them due to Earth’s society. He can summon the energy of the star on his planet and use his body to project its energy. He is one of the things the PotG wishes to understand but never can, as he is too powerful for them to experiment on without catastrophic consequences.

- Maurice Bellomo: The Element of Earth. Maurice can cause Earthquakes, control rock formations, summon plants and control most aspects of nature as a fighting technique. His powers are ever evolving and he is widely considered to be the least powerful Elemental as he hasn’t reached his peak yet. The Earth heals him at high speeds and he causes craters when distressed.

- Sam Pinch: Can manipulate electrical currents with his hands and has super speed due to an Atomic explosion that didn’t kill him or his brother. He talks extraordinarily fast and can remain unseen by most. In order to make up for the calories he burns, he has to eat in high amounts. His super speed is borderline uncontrollable when he is outside of his suit, body moving faster than the mind can comprehend. When manipulating electricity, he causes a blip of energy in the surrounding area. The explosion caused him to have heavy hearing loss and he wears hearing aids.

- Robert Evans: The Element of Water. Robert tends to spend all of his time in the ocean, only emerging when he is needed as he is currently on the throne under the waves. He can breathe underwater and communicates with sea creatures, as well as controlling water on land. His main tactic of combat against his enemies is to remove all forms of water in the human body, however he is known to have summoned hurricanes and high ocean waves to wipe out places.

- Eric Pinch: Has Chaos Magic, which grants him with the ability to manipulate reality in any way he chooses and has electrical powers very similar to Scarlett Witch (Marvel). Was also given to him in the Atomic experiment gone wrong, his body absorbing a certain unidentified element. He can control his powers to an extent, intense emotions causing him to lose his mental balance and become a death machine.

- Peter Curtis - No superpowers, but is an incredibly intelligent hacker and coder who works for Ralph but is currently undercover as a PotG officer. He regularly sabotages the PotG plans to kill the Runaways and trades information with Ralph. He is skilled in manipulating others.

Details of Importance:

- The Elementals are each over 4,000 years old, coming from a long line of those with powers who have since died off. They laid dormant until absolutely needed, the prophecy stating “Those who control the elements laid in deep sleep, growing stronger each day and emerging when the world needs them most.” The elementals came from different areas that correlated with their powers. Jack from a Volcano, Maurice from a Crack in the Earth’s surface, Roger from the middle of a Tornado and Robert from the ocean’s tides. Their identities are kept entirely a secret through masks and identity manipulation tactics.

- Only one of the Runaways laid dormant for some time, his appearance being a mystery as only those who control elements are supposed to emerge from the Earth.

- The Runaways were all once part of PotG, identities and numbers still unknown. They lay as the elementals biggest target currently. One was found in the remains of a thunderstorm with such high winds that his house collapsed, one in the remains of an old minefield, supposedly dead, the other two in an old farmhouse, right after their mother exploded. The runaways hardly pose a real threat, but the leader of PotG wants them to be brought in.

- Chips have been installed in each elemental’s scalp to track their whereabouts as well as their health and stats such as heartbeat, blood pressure, etc.

- Ralph and Jack’s ancestors met once a year to discuss their futures and when they realised extinction was on the horizon, the two populations had Ralph’s biological mother and Jack’s biological father merge their blood together through a cut on their hands, so whenever either of their bloodlines was in peril danger, they could call on each other’s powers to save them.

- The Prophecy was predicted thousands of years ago, after the first extinction of elementals and those who came after found remains of their civilisations. It reads that “Those who must save the world are those who destroy it first - The beings who control the elements lay deep in sleep, growing stronger with each second humanity breathes, and will emerge when the world needs them most. The globe must burn before it can be reconstructed with fragile hands, sculpting a new childhood for the young out of clay. The world must end for it to begin again. It all starts with the flicker of the boy from flame.”

- The Inferia Crystals: The Inferia Crystals were crafted by the ancestors of the elementals and those who set up humanity to build the prophecy. 4 crystals were stolen by the runaways and 4 remain with the elementals. They control certain sectors of the Earth, split into 8 parts thousands of years ago, and help some beings gain control over their own powers.

- Each Elemental has been tagged with a certain number, the correlation of number to person still unknown to those who wear the tags. They come in the form of a dog tag necklace, and they were told to never take them off. Jack is #2098, Roger is #3092, Maurice is #4266, and Robert is #5609

Areas Of Importance:

- PotG base - Unknown location, Run by Roger Volkov’s adoptive father

- The Arena - Located in the centre of the PotG base, The Arena is generally used for entertainment of the wealthy. Prisoners are pitched into a dome, an audience surrounding them on all sides, and are forced to fight to the death or until Roger Volkov’s adoptive father calls it off. Competitors are given poorly crafted weapons and armour, the arena not built for those of great power.

- The Crystalline Cave: The cave in which the walls hold the Prophecy, carved into glass. Each elemental has an area with carvings that glows when they pass by, but it is unknown as to why or what it means.

- The Runaways Base: The Runaway’s base is in an unknown location, on the top of an unknown mountain. They have charms and protective spells up to hide them from the public entirely, area appearing as government owned property.

If you don’t want to see this au, please block the tag

#macksstories

Thank you!!

Let the End, begin

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

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Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #friday the 13th #blood #violence #slatra #lmao #my writing #fiction #horror #slasher x reader #feral reader #slasher x fem!reader #reader insert #slasher fic #slasher x reader fic #jason voorhees #friday the 13th fic

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

One Last Time

Oliver Wood x Hufflepuff!reader

Requested by anon “hi!!!! can you please do oliver wood x reader and the the reader is a triwizard champion instead of cedric and since oliver has graduated he comes back to watch her and is really really sad when she dies? thank u!”

A/N-why? Why? I love it though, hope you all do too!

Warning- Violence, talks of death, angst, fluff and sadness….

———-

In the disarray of the clouded and final eventful game that was going to take place, you paced around in the tent. Feeling attacked by your own nervous thoughts, tuning out every sound around and blocking every pacing competitor that was as nervous, or even more so than you. In that mayhem albeit literally bumping into the man that had been also occupying your thoughts and the only one that could break you from your stupor.

“Oliver!” You exclaimed happily as you threw your arms around his neck and felt his wrap around your waist to return the sudden welcoming hug. “You’re here! I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Oliver pulled away to show his sly grin, “Of course I’d be here to support my favorite girl.”

You giggle and step on the tip of your toes to give him a small peck on his lips. “For good luck.”

“Well in that case.” He smiles, moving to share another, but stopping once Dumbledore instructs everyone to walk out. In that instant once more feeling the gut wrenching feeling reappear, but finding more comfort as your boyfriend Oliver took your hand in his to accompany you out.

Hearing the upbeat music playing outside and the excited cheers and chants sang by the students the further you walked out. Getting blinded by the light of the bright scenery once you finally all step out and see the buzzing crowd, finally feeling giddy as you heard your name from your fellow Hufflepuff classmates; feeling thrilled and inspired as you noticed posters with your name written on it’s yellow material, friends that you would see for the last time with your name painted on their foreheads. You waved and grinned wider at all of them, holding onto Oliver’s hand tighter as Dumbledore's voice boomed around the crowd and silenced them with his announcement.

“Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows it’s exact position. Now as Miss, L/N…” Oliver at the sound of your name rose your hand and the crowd roared in excitement, just as they did when Harry Potter's name was announced. “...and Mr. Potter tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze, followed by Mr.Krum and Miss Delcour. First person that touches the cup will be the winner! I’ve instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter should at any point a contestant wish to withdraw from the task. He or she only need to send up red sparks with their wands.” Dumbledore turns around to address all of you playing. “Contestants gather around, quickly!”

Doing so with no hesitation you walk up and hear his words of caution. “In the maze, you’ll find no dragons, or creatures of the deep. Instead you’ll face something even more challenging. You see people change in the maze. Oh, find the cup if you can, but be very wary, you could lose yourselves along the way.” With that said he lets you turn back and finally go back to Oliver’s side to share an unknowingly last interaction.

“Good luck out there.” He says, cupping one cheek. “And know that whatever happens I’ll still be proud of you.”

You smile warmly and feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes, “okay. I love you, Oli.”

“I love you too.” He responds back before pulling you into one last final goodbye before you turned around, offering Harry a small and nice smile. Beginning to feel your nerves pick up but suddenly disappear as the cannon sounded signifying that it was time.

Which this time you did hesitate just a little to walk into the dark ominous maze, hearing no sounds of what was before inside, almost as if you had been transported somewhere else completely. Wanting almost just to be pulled back out by the sudden isolating and terrified feeling the overcame your entire body; and only grew the deeper you needed to continue regardless, avoiding the rustling of the leaves and howling of the wind; startled by the sudden collapse of the maze walls that seemed to want to swallow you inside its depths, cutting you with its sharp branches and tugging your arms. Making you let out a pained and loud groan that lasted until you stopped fighting and ripped out of its hold.

“Blimey.” You breathed out as you caught your breath and studied the fogged covered area. Finding no solace in the silence however as you heard within the walls, or above, or everywhere around the voice of the only person you had in your life.

“Y/N! Help me!”

You gasp and your eyes widen horror, “Oliver! Oliver where are you?!”

It sounded again in a much more traumatic, pained wail. “Y/N! Help me! I’m over here! Help me.”

Without thinking your mind clouded with the only priority now, hearing your thumping heart be the only sound to echo around as you began to race towards the cries for help, feeling tears race down your cheeks.

All of it suddenly blowing away as you crashed into Victor Krum. “Sorry, I—” you cut your words off as you took note of his cloudy eyes and contorted expression, walking back and turning to run away as his wand raised in front of you.

Whilst also concluding as realization hit with the sudden more fearful act that what you heard was nothing but a trick. The maze wanting you to lose your goal in finding the cup, just like Krum—but unlike the maze’s trick you were smarter to outbeat the player chasing you, losing him in a sharp turn that only led you moments later to Harry Potter and Krum. His goals undying and your warning and attack quicker. “Get down! Expelliarmus!”

In a hasty move you ran forward kicked away Krum's wand and tempted to attack him once more until Harry Potter stopped you, hearing in the distance a soft hum that made Harry and you suddenly break into a run. Tugging one another back as you both raced each other towards the sound of the cup; captivated in a sudden awe as the cup came to view that seconds later made Harry and you start racing again in a much more violent way. Feeling your heart jolt in excitement and then sudden surprise as you’re pulled down by growing sharp vines, unable to fight its hold as it grows stronger and more painful as it intents to drag you into the depths of the maze grew.

You clawed the dirt and called to Harry while your life flashed before your eyes. Only wanting to be saved now instead of wanting to win. “Harry! Harry! Harry!”

“Reducto!”

A bright flash flew past you, hitting and loosening one of the vines until Harry came and set you loose. Letting you catch your breath after he helped you off the ground.

“Thank you Harry.”

Said boy quickly answered with the same kindness. “No problem.”

“For a moment there,” you breathed, “I thought you were going to let it get me.”

“So did I.” He admitted.

“Some game, huh?”

“Some game.” Harry repeated. Both of your attentions ripped away as high winds began to blow and the walls began to cave in. Forcing the both of you to finish the maze and get to the cup in a faster pace until you came to a sudden halt before the cup; your eyes glancing from the glowing object, the maze and Harry one last time to insist him to take it for what he did to help you moments before. Something he didn’t take and fought against you until he came with a solution to grab it together. A choice that caused you to be swept away in a blink of an eye and get dropped in some place dark.

You stayed on the ground for a moment to catch your breath one last time, noticing the cup was out of your grasp and Harry remained close—“Are you okay?”

Harry nodded, “yeah. You?”

Standing up you notice all the stone statues, daring you to ask and avoid the previous question, “where are we?”

Was this some last task?

“I’ve been here before.” Harry muttered a couple feet away.

Wondering to the cup you realize with a grin. “It’s a port key. Harry the cup is a port key—”

“I’ve been here before in a dream.” Harry repeated in a more panicked tone. “Y/N we have to head back to the cup, now!”

Your amusement falls and you turn to offer him a narrowed gaze. “What are you talking about?”

A creek sounds from one of the small stone houses and Harry suddenly begins to scream in agony. Causing you to instinctively check up on him, “Harry what is it?”

“Get back to the cup!” He yelled again as a small round dirty man walked out with something in its arms, sending you on high alert and a quick defensive stance with your wand in hand.

“Who are you? What do you want?!” You bellowed, hearing a raspy command shortly after.

“Kill the spare!”

Before you could do anything, before you could fight back or block anything, words you never thought you would hear screamed out, “Avada Kedavra!” The spell shooting out and hitting your chest so strongly that it sent you flying back and taking the life out of you in a flash of a second.

Such a spell not even letting you experience none of what you heard happens during someone’s death; no flashes of your sad lonely beginning, nor memories of your happy school years that brought you to meet friends you thought would get to see forever, or Oliver, the man you would grow to love. Nothing happened but a sudden cold end.

A death that led you to experience one last real memory that let you feel light-weight, ready to ask one last verbal question to the boy that had been by you when the darkness of death came. “Harry. Take my body back will you. Take my body back to Oliver.”

Harry’s eyes went to you and he nodded, making you smile and later help him one last time before nothing.

(Oliver’s p.o.v)

It had been so long, felt like years since he last saw you disappear into the maze to be left with nothing but anxious wait. Only feeling relieved and excited hours later as something flashed and two bodies dropped to the ground.

Harry and you.

Oliver grinned and cheered with excitement at your success, embracing his friends in a happy hug with a happy grin spreading on his lips. A gesture that turned grim as the music and cheering soon thereafter stopped and people began to crowd the two bodies he saw come back. Hearing gasps, murmurs and screams echoing around the crowd that made him realize something that made his heart feel as if it had stopped.

Quickly he pushed through the crowd and ran down the stairs to run towards the huddled crowd. “Let me through! Let me through!”

A chilling gasp escaped as he finally saw your lifeless body splayed on the ground with Harry’s body weeping on top and Dumbledore trying to comfort him until he saw Oliver and heard his mutters that turned into cries.

“No! No! Y/N?!” Oliver fell on his knees and cupped your cheeks, feeling his uncontrollable, hot tears fall on your face as he rested his forehead on yours. “Please, please come back. Y/N?! Baby.” Letting out a pained cry that seemed to echo for miles he followed by cradling your body and kissing your lips one last time, speaking to your cold body just as sweetly as before. One last time.

“Please, please. I love you….please…”

#harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter #the goblet of fire #oliver wood #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x you #Oliver wood x Hufflepuff!reader #angst #imagines #oliver wood imagine #Oliver wood imagines #oliver wood fanfiction

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The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

March 21, 2019.

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’. Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh? I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am. All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms. ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’ She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a “valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again. You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]:@herecomesthesun1969 @alabaster1223 @ultraviolet-m @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr @grapesauze @xbarrjallenx @white-wolf-buckaroo @yoheyyosup @infinitystones2018 @94seun @buckynatlarry @thegirlwholikestomanythings @just-some-stars @97yrm @2cuteforyourlies @e-bendy @criminallyhamilton @aqarath @change-the-world-someday @sambucky8 @spankin-soda @big-galaxy-chaos @cosmichellfire

Feel free to tell me to you want to be tagged for the series or for all/any other of my fics.

Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

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one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years

Text

Julius Novachrono Theory

I have had some serious concerns about the future of Julius’s character. In a way, I wish Tabata had killed him off for good in Ep 93, since that would give his character a resolution as well as hand the baton off to the next generation. But as well all know...

(manga spoilers below)

That’s not how it went down.

Of course at first, everyone’s reaction was happy: Rejoice! Julius is alive!!! The fact that he was alive gave me hope. In fiction, there’s a principle called “Chekhov’s Gun” which states that every element of a story must be necessary. "Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there." So, if Tabata decided to bring Julius back in this way, he must have a purpose later on in the story, right?

Right?

At first, that’s how it seemed. Despite his handicap, Julius did not give up his position as Wizard King, and did everything he could to conceal his condition from those who would kick him out. He didn’t even mention the possibility of appointing a successor. Despite the fact that he knows he’s no longer capable for this job, he held onto it.

But then, the spade arc rolled around. With a giant Demon attacking the Kingdom, Julius made a last stand and gave us one more glorious look at his adult form:

But then, in front of literally EVERYONE, the spell reverts and he is turned back into his teenaged form:

His secret is out, there’s no coming back from this. And this is where my predictions begin.

Assuming that the Spade Arc ends with a win for Asta and Company, the story will probably focus inward once again. Now that everyone knows that Julius is a powerless 14 year old, they aren’t going to let him continue to act as Wizard King, especially Augustus and the other nobility. Damnatio was supporting Julius this whole time but I doubt he will be able to stop Julius from getting kicked out. From here, I predict that the story will focus on the appointment of a new Wizard King, likely Fuegoleon in my opinion, but it could really be any of the Captains at this point. I doubt that Asta and Yuno are in the running (although I think it’s likely, one way or another, that Asta will become vice captain after the spade arc).

After that, the story will probably expand outward again, and the plot from here is anyone’s guess. But what about Julius? There’s a few directions I could see his character taking from here.

1.) No direction. Julius accepts his fate and retires, maybe wandering off somewhere to look at magic or some shit. I genuinely hope this doesn’t happen lol. It would be disappointing and makes his whole presence after his first “death” kind of meaningless. Which is why I think it’s more likely that he’ll serve a purpose in the future.

2.) Julius becomes a competitor for Asta. Julius, as he is now, is only 2/3 years younger than Asta, effectively placing them in the same generation. Once Asta, Yuno, and the others are old enough to start vying for Wizard King, Julius will be too (or possibly earlier, as I will explain later). I think this would be an interesting place to take the story, forcing Asta to have to “defeat” Julius, the former Wizard King, in his PRIME, in order to take the position for himself. We’ve seen that Julius is extremely unwilling to give up his position even in the worst circumstances before, so there’s no telling how he will react to this challenge.

3.) Julius becomes an antagonist (perhaps minor, perhaps major). There’s a good chance that Julius’s grimoire will be restored as soon as he “turns 15″, which is relatively soon. What’s going to happen after that? Will Julius have to “relearn” all his powers, or will his prior experiences allow him to return to his former glory more rapidly? If this happens, and a new Wizard King is already in power, will he return and attempt to take his position back? Perhaps by force? God, I hope so. Even when he was powerless, Julius did NOT want to let go of his position whatsoever. He went to great lengths to keep it. In a way... that was a very selfish thing to do. He KNEW he couldn’t protect anyone in his condition, so why didn’t he graciously give up and give the job to someone who could? Maybe there’s a more sinister reason behind him wanting to be Wizard King, but I think it’s more likely that he’s just extremely devoted to his identity as Wizard King. He can’t image himself as anything else; and he’ll do whatever it takes to remain in control.

4.) Julius is the Time Devil (unlikely). In chapter 286 it’s mentioned that the underworld is ruled by three devils, the devils of Gravity, Space, and TIME

I don’t personally subscribe to the theory that Julius is anything but an extremely blessed human but at the same time... I think it would be sexy of him to be connected to the Time Devil, perhaps even BEING it somehow :). Out of the three, the Time Devil is the only one we haven’t seen (Gravity being Lucifero and Space probably being Zenon’s). But like I said, I am skeptical of this, and the Time Devil is probably just hanging out in the underworld still. But maybe Julius’s story will intertwine with it in some other way later, since this devil is the only other known entity to have time magic.

Anyway, Tabata might just say “fuck you” and make option number 1 the result, and in the end there’s nothing we can do but wait :/ Sorry fellow Julius Stans.

#black clover #julius novachrono

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fantasticstoryteller · 3 years

Text

New Amsterdam Chapter 14

Peter stared at the lab order. Normally he got through these orders by pretending they had mundane uses. Scratch that—they did have mundane uses. Even though Oscorp primarily sold weapons, the things that Peter most frequently invented there had lifesaving applications.

Hard to see any lifesaving applications for “organic incendiary” though. Peter ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through the motions to create something so detrimental to—to life…

“You’re late Peter.”

Peter closed his eyes as the pale, sweat-soaked face of his best friend swam in his mind. Was—was this why Norman had pushed Harry so close to death? Was it because he knew that Peter would balk at this? Was it to give Peter a mental push, a reminder as to why he was donating time to Norman’s lab?

Maybe. Maybe Norman had planned it all out to the last, micromanaged detail. Or—maybe Norman was just a cold-blooded psychopath. There was no way to no for sure.

“You’re staring at that lab order like it’s going to bite you.” The amused voice came out of nowhere and Peter jumped before turning to face the speaker.

“Dr.—Dr. Octavius,” stammered Peter as he faced the frizzy haired woman.

She adjusted her bulky glasses and chuckled. “Please, Peter,” she said warmly. “Call me Liv.” She held out a hand. “Come on,” she said gently. “Take a break from the work. Let’s get something to eat.”

Peter didn’t really have time. He still had to get to the Bugle (which actually paid him—not much, but more than Norman did) and had to patrol. But—he also needed food.

Norman was a manipulative, sadistic bastard. Everyone could agree on that. Everyone agreed that Tony Stark, Norman’s closest competitor, was better in every way.

Except one. When Norman fed his employees (even those like Peter that didn’t get anything in the way of pay except his best friend continuing to live for another day) he did just that. He fed them. The food was paid for—by Norman. Stark Industries had cafeterias, and the employees had to buy their own food. The one thing that Peter would say that Oscorp was better than SI in was that: at Oscorp every employee—from the cleaning and maintenance crews on up—got free food. Sometimes, Norman would even feed the press.

Peter wasn’t sure why. Being so generous as to offer free food to every person who worked at Oscorp (no matter how unwillingly) seemed to go against everything that Peter knew about Norman. He would have thought that Norman would leech the money he gave his (paid) staff through exorbitantly priced food or simply have vending machines everywhere instead of cafeterias with real, live chefs. (The chefs were actually students who were getting working hours and experience with real food service—and were also allowed to eat for free.) It didn’t make sense.

“Hey Peter,” called one of the lab techs as Dr. Octavius took him down to the cafeteria.

“Hey Liv, any progress on those algorithms?”

“I thought I’d run them by our little genius,” Dr. Octavius said cheerfully.

The mood in the Oscorp labs was very different as well. The biggest difference was that no one at Oscorp ostracized Peter. The others might not know exactly what he did for the company, but they knew that Dr. Octavius approved of him, that he worked on top secret projects, and that he never tried to pull rank on anyone. After the chill of his coworkers at SI, the warm camaraderie at Oscorp was almost a balm on his soul.

He hated feeling that way about anything to do with Norman.

“Now, sit!” Dr. Octavius ordered pushing Peter into a chair. “I’ll go get us food.” She readjusted her bulky glasses before heading towards the order hatch.

Another doctor (PhD) that Peter was familiar with plopped his tray on the table next to Peter. “Coming to the Dark Side?” he asked with a deep voice and a quick smile. “We get better food,” he added tantalizingly as he wiggled his tray.

Peter almost drooled at the sight of the food. Thin strips of meat, crusted on the outside with some kind of seasoning, rested on a bed of almost completely clear noodles and drizzled with a dark brown sauce that smelled amazing. Next to it was a serving of vegetables—just cooked long enough to be both soft and seasoned—and a small bowl of a light brown soup with a single mushroom floating at the top of it.

Peter quickly swallowed before he could actually start to drool and flushed as his stomach growled. “What is that?” he asked.

Dr. Conners shrugged his one arm. “Don’t know,” he said cheerfully. “This cook only knows three English words; ‘no,’ ‘water,’ and ‘weapon’.” The doctor grabbed his fork and speared some of the meat before putting it in his mouth and moaning. “Good cook though,” he mumbled through his food.

Dr. Octavius kicked his chair as she walked by with a tray in each hand. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonished him as she set a tray each in front of Peter and herself.

Peter’s tray was the same as Dr. Conners, and Dr. Octavius’s tray looked like a vegan version. “Thank you,” Peter said politely before he took the fork and got some of the meat.

It melted on his tongue, a mix of savory, crunch and spice with just the slightest bit of heat. It was one of the best things that Peter had ever eaten. He bet if he could get Deadpool to try it, the merc would like it better than Mexican. Peter leaned over until he could see the serving hatch and the little old man standing behind it. He waved and the man nodded with a huge smile on his face as Peter settled back in his seat and went back to eating.

“Told you,” Dr. Conners said with a wink.

“Told him what?”

“That here on the dark side we have better food.”

Dr. Octavius chuckled as she took a sip of her soup. “You shouldn't call it ‘the dark side’,” she said. “Ah, this is good,” she added with a fond look at the small cup.

Peter took a sip of his own soup—and had to agree. The soup was good. The food was good. And despite being in the lair of a man he truly hated, Peter began to slowly relax. He was eating good food and talking with people who didn’t (at least at this very minute) either want to kill him, wish him dead, want money he didn’t have, or any one of a million other things that people had been doing to him, and to his alter ego lately.

“After all,” Dr. Octavius said, “Norman’s donated almost two million dollars to Runaways Unite.”

“Only because Stark donated a hundred thousand,” pointed out Dr. Conners.

Peter kept his silence. He had his own problems with Runaways Unite. On the surface it seemed like a nonprofit organization designed to help with the street children, but Spiderman had had to rescue more than one child from them as they were determined to put the children back in the very situations that they ran from—with no regard to the child’s safety. Naturally, The Daily Bugle wholeheartedly approved of the organization.

“So,” said Dr. Octavius turning her attention to Peter. “I hear that Stark offered you your own lab over there.”

Dr. Conners sighed and saluted Peter with his soup bowl. “We’ll miss you,” he said.

Peter glanced away. “I haven’t taken the offer,” he said softly.

Yet.

The single word hung in the air between the three of them. Because right now Norman held Harry’s life over Peter’s head—but he couldn't do it forever. They’d find a way around Norman, a way for Harry to have a normal life. And, maybe, Peter could be at Harry’s and Mary Jan’s wedding. Or not. Perhaps the two of them would end up with other people, people who weren’t traumatized by what Norman had put them all through. But—maybe.

And there was no way that Peter was going to give support to the man who regularly threatened to kill his child just to control Peter.

“So,” said Dr. Octavius changing the subject again, “why were you glaring at the lab order?”

Should he? Would they understand? Well, probably not, but it couldn't hurt. “Norman wants me to develop an organic incendiary,” he said. “I don’t like something that could—well…” Peter trailed off, not sure what to say.

To his surprise, Dr. Octavius nodded and absently moved her trademark colorful scarf out of the way before it fell into her food. “You’ve got to look after the environment,” she said knowingly.

Or, maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Dr. Conners looked thoughtful. “What if if,” he said slowly, “instead of something that targeted all organic matter, it was something that could be used to target something specifically?”

“Ooo,” said Dr. Octavius. “Like cancer cells. If you set it fine enough, you can target a single type of cancer and knock it out!” She grinned and adjusted her glasses. “Does that help?” she asked.

Peter’s mind began to whirl. “Yes,” he said thinking about the positive ramifications (and willfully ignoring the warlike use Norman was going to put them to). “Thank you,” he said shyly before he turned his attention back to his food.

After all, he knew better than to give good food anything less than his undivided attention.

#Spider-Man #Deadpool #Spideypool

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (23)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Wealth. There is a lot of meaning for this word. Of course, the first thing that comes to people's minds when we talk about wealth is the financial side of the term. And that's normal! As we say, it's money that makes the world go. Because without money, we don't have anything. No house. No food, no clothes, no care, no access to knowledge... Absolutely nothing. Some manage to acquire a great wealth honestly, by working with the sweat of their hands, by continuing the family tradition or by starting his own business. Others acquire this wealth dishonestly, stealing, lying and cheating the work of others to take credit for it. And in some cases... money can solve many problems. This is how some people avoid prison, paying justice to corrupt them. Not just justice for that matter...

There is also the wealth of knowledge, which is essential to our survival and evolution. Knowledge has allowed humanity to evolve and gradually reach places and stages that until now was impossible. The thirst for knowledge and the wealth it provides can get you out of very dangerous situations. Because knowledge helps to identify what is deadly or not, how to save lives, think about a strategy that can save as many people as possible, build solid buildings, pass on this knowledge to future generations so that they can perfect it even more.

And finally... there is the wealth of the heart. The most beautiful wealth in the world. The richness of the heart is that which one acquires by being good, generous and always ready to help others. Sometimes all it takes is a kind word, a friendly smile or an outstretched hand to feed that wealth. Many people forget this wealth there in favour of money. Money doesn't really make you happy. It is to be with those we love that makes us happy.

But back to the financial aspect of wealth. As I said, money solves a lot of problems when you are rich. But sometimes she can't save you from the media pressure. And currently for a certain Hoggins... Money cannot save him from the scandal that has just erupted about him. The newspapers of the region were getting their hands in gold since the "stock market scam" as they called it in their article, had been updated. And in Roseville, the newspapers were sold like buns, rumours and debates about it filled your coffee.

“Do you realize that? This rotten Hoggins makes money by stealing and destroying its competitors illegally! this guy has no Honor or fucking dignity!” said a man, throwing his newspaper on the table.

“The worst part is that he denies it! while the evidence is there! he can't lie and say that this e-mail he exchanged with his accomplice is fake! And there he is, free to move as he wishes, saying that he has never done anything and that all this is just bad luck! He struts around like a king!” said the woman in front of him.

“He will eventually fall... one way or another. And if this goes on, he's even going to get shot. In a way it wouldn't be any worse. For once if Ghostface could slaughter him and McKellan... It'd make us less shit in this country.”

“Yes, you’re right, for once, I Hoped that Ghostface kill them... Let them pay for what they have done.”

You listen to people argue and see how hateful they are towards the rich of this world. To want Hoggins dead to the point of praying that Ghostface would kill him.... That means everything. It’s true that he deserves to be punished but... not to the point of wishing him death. If Ghostface were there, and if he’s there among the customers, he must rejoice, lick his lips, enjoy himself from these words. Melina entered the café at the same time, with a big smile on her face. She heard the conversations but didn't pay attention to them.

“Hey there Beauty! How are you? Not too busy?” she said with a big smile.

“It's fine, it's fine. I don't have a lot of people right now. But hey it's only the beginning of the day ... The biggest one is coming. How about you?” You respond posing on the counter.

“The whole newspaper is in a state of boiling between the Ghostface murders, the Hoggins scandal... It's a real furnace, we're running everywhere! Sometimes I dream of being on a beach.... in a sun lounger... a cocktail in hand. But I have to stay realistic for now and focus on the work.”

“Haha my poor Melina... Courage, once he is arrested, tried and thrown in jail, you can breathe a little more... even if there are still the Ghostface murders. But for that there is Jed to write them …"

“Speaking of Jed! Did you transform him with a magic wand? He arrived, his hair loose, in a short-sleeved t-shirt and with a much more confident look than usual! well he still has his glasses in his nose and sometimes he is shy but damn! I feel like I've seen a stranger at work!” She replied, surprised and smiling.

“Well, I just made him buy new clothes so he would change his wardrobe a bit... But I didn't think it would have that much effect...” you respond embarrassed.

“I don't think it was any new clothes that did that. It must be good for him to have found the soulmate he had been waiting for so long. You see I told you: You were meant to meet you both. You were related! It could only have happened that way.

“Yeah, you’re right...Same as usual?”

“Same as usual.” Melina said with a wink.

As you turn to prepare Melina's order, you hear the door open and the bell ringing. When you turn around, you see Jed, and as Melina said, he was really more serene than usual. He made you his usual angelic smile heading towards you and Melina, the latter giving him a little punch in the arm. Jed laughs, rubbing his arm before turning to you.

“Well... when we talk about the wolf... We see his tail. We were just talking about you. And you confirm Melina's claims by your presence.” you said.

“I haven't taken off the glasses yet. And then I thought if I didn't put on my new clothes, you'd sulk.” He responds smiling, before kissing you.

“You're really cute both... My heart is melting. Is it still running in the office?” Asks Melina.

“Yeah, Everyone's in a rush with the murders and everything else. Even the boss runs everywhere. We didn't think this scandal would get so big. And the worst part is that this is just the beginning. Imagine if we find out anything else during this case.” respond Jed.

“In any case, public opinion doesn’t need more to judge him, they want him dead. Some even say that for once, they would be happy if Ghostface killed Hoggins...” you said, looking at Jed, who froze immediately upon hearing that.

“Wow... At this point? Oh, really? let's not forget that Ghostface is a murderer not a hero. He's not much better than Hoggins. He's even worse than him, he kills while Hoggins steals from other rich people.” Said Melina.

Jed didn't say anything. You notice a strange smile on his face, a smile you've never seen before. He was looking into the void. You finish preparing Melina's order before you give it to her. The latter greeted you before leaving the café. This strange smile had not left him. What could he think of? He ends up sighing as he shakes his head before turning to you, and making you that beautiful angelic smile of his own.

“What are you thinking?” you ask.

“That either the world has fallen very low... Either he goes crazy to asks a murderer to kill someone. Even if he is a rich asshole who deserves it, I think that justice is still in the care of doing its job... At least I hope so.” Jed responds.

“You hope so?”

“You know how the rich are. With good arguments and a good lot of money... a case can be quickly closed. But I believe in justice. I mean, with all the evidence that's been updated... if Hoggins gets away with it...”

Suddenly he got a call. It was his boss, Mr. Hembrook. And in view of Jed's face... it looked very serious. You didn't dare disturb him and once the conversation was over, he turned with a serious look.

“They found McKellan's body. It was one of the guards who discovered him in his office. Apparently, it had been several days since he had given any sign of life.” He said.

“No one has worried about it before??” You ask.

“It seems not, McKellan only calls his guards when he goes out or when it's an important meeting. But otherwise, he lives alone and no one comes. Looks like Ghostface hit a big shot. I have to go right now with Mattew. Have a good day, my love. I love you.” He replied before kissing you and leaving quickly the café.

“I love you...” You simply said.

A lot of things jostled in your head. And to know that Ghostface had accomplished this mischief and that he had told you it was anguishing. Why did he tell you? Maybe because he knows full well that if you said anything, you'd be on board with him as an accomplice? Yes... he knows exactly what he's doing. By telling you who he has or is going to kill, he's preventing you from doing anything. Because if you tell the police, they'll want answers or worse! They'll guess you're seeing him and they'll get on board, before they throw you in jail. You're his best asset. Against your will.

Plus, as he told you... you'll owe him a "reward" for getting rid of McKellan. And that's what you wanted to push back as much as possible. Unfortunately, Ghostface has to decide otherwise. One thing's for sure, you can expect to see him at home tonight. It's full of worry that you spend the rest of your day at work. In the meantime, you start preparing a job offer to recruit an additional seller. Jed is right, you can't manage coffee on your own if its reputation keeps growing. After a while you will be overwhelmed by the influx of customers. An employee to support you would not be a refusal.

As you predicted, the afternoon was busy. And the sun was the cause. There's nothing like a good coffee or a cool drink to enjoy the warmth of the sun. The end of the day came, and something that made you smile, the customers don't get tired to come to your shop! and that's positive. The more you innovate in your recipes and the like, the more customers will come back. If only your parents could be there to see this... In a way they see it all from heaven. And they must be happy to see you safe from need.

You close the coffee after your monitoring ritual, do some shopping to fill the cupboards and fridge, and then you go home. You see Jed's van, but you decide to leave him alone for tonight, the poor man having to be overworked and probably exhausted. You turn on the living room light and startle when you see Ghostface in your living room, standing in front of you, making your usual little hand gesture while giggling.

“Goddamnit ! You could stop coming to my house like a... Fucking ghost?” you said by going to put your shopping bags down and starting to store food.

“Nice attempt but unfortunately you still have some progress to make jokes. It seems... People want me to kill Hoggins? I confess that when I heard this, I was...how to say.... surprised. But flattered.” said Ghostface, playing with his knife.

“And? Don't tell me you've decided to play heroes in search of repentance. You'd be the king of liars.”

“Hahaha me? A hero? No no my beautiful angel... the only hero I want to be... It's yours in bed. To hear you say my name while I make you discover a forbidden pleasure, to hear you ask again until the end of the night ... That's what I want. And I'm sure you'd like to see how God I am. Even Jed compared to me will be weak in front of my power and control.”

“Oh really? How can you say that? Have you ever seen him in action, while you masturbating from the building at the opposite? You can always dream.” you replied by finishing tidying up.

“But I'm already dreaming about it! and believe me, I don't lose a crumb. I enjoy every second of my dreams where you beg me to take you to heaven.” replied Ghostface approaching you from behind, sticking you to the wall, his hand descending to touch with a firm hand your ass.

You make a little moan at this gesture, which made him sneer. He passed his other hand in front to unbutton your pants and drop it to the ground. you hear the sound of a zipper before you feel his crotch sticking against your underwear. He began to make small movements back and forth, before accelerating as he went along. He put a hand over your mouth, so no one can hear you. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning and you try several times to get out, to no avail.

As you felt the climax coming, he recoiled and put away his crotch while sneering. You gradually find your breath, and you had only one desire, to hit him. You get dressed quickly to face him, and even if you don't see his face, you could feel his animal gaze on you, a look that scans you.

“I'm going to make you languish a little more... just for fun. You only had a little glimpse... maybe if you're wise... You'll get the rest. Good night my sweet little star... Have a beautiful dream.” He said, before vanishing.

You feel ashamed, defiled and angry. For him it's just a game. And he knows he's in his hand for now! What a bastard... You sigh before you go shower and change. Then you eat, watch a little TV before going to bed. The tension has not left you and it is with a ball in your stomach that you fall asleep.

He'll pay for it. Sooner or later, he'll pay for it.

And you'll enjoy making him regret it.

***

(Phew! I finished it! I hoped you’ll like it just like the others! and i see that you’re almost 50 to follow me! Thank you so much to support a little French potato like me! have a good week-end you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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devourer--of--books · 4 years

Text

tagatha dating simulator au

- It’s sunday night and local college student, Agatha, hasn’t sleep in two days, practically glued to her chair at the library, trying to absorb the maximum of information she possibly could before finals on monday morning.

- Sitting across from her is her roommate and best friend, Sophie, who doesn’t seem nearly as concerned, playing a game on her phone. Mostly because she already failed half of her courses and is considering dropping out of college to pursue a modeling career, why try at this point-

- Agatha appreciates that Sophie is keeping her company, she really does, but even if her friend was using headphones, Agatha can still hear the background music and the voice actors very clearly. That on its own was distracting enough, but it was always the same lines, with the background music looping as Sophie restarted the game prologue over and over again.

- Around the fifth time she hears the app-staring-exclamation ‘milady!’ her eye starts twitching.

- By the twelfth she slams her book shut, earning herself a glare from all the remaining students in the library.

- “How terrible do you have to be at a game to not be able to get through the prologue?” she whisper-shouts, taking the sit beside Sophie, looking at the screen.

- “That’s not the problem,” her friend defends, proceeding to explain the game.

- Trial by Tale is a recently released dating simulator that has managed to gather a cult-like following. The game was praised for its diverse range of LIs, well-written routes, stellar voice acting, high-quality art style and a beautiful soundtrack. It was apparently highly addicting as well, as Agatha had never seen Sophie be that invested in... any game... like, ever.

- Basically, the main character was transported inside a fairytale-fantasy-like world, where they were introduced as a ‘reader’ to compete in the ‘trial by tale’, a inter-worldly tournament, set up by a mysterious entity (a magical pen known as ‘the storian’), in which the winner would be granted an unconditional wish.

- “Original,” Agatha snorts.

- “Can you just shut up and listen?”

- During the prologue, the main character meets most of the main LIs and according to the player’s decisions, the game would put them into a specific route, based on affection levels with each datatable character.

- There were about thirty bad endings for the casual route (where the player either made stupid choices or didn’t gather enough affection with any LI), ranging from mildly sad to terribly gory. Then, each route had five early bad endings, that could happen during the trial, resulting in the main character’s death.

- If the player managed to win the tournament with the LI, bargaining with the storian for the survival of two competitors, then two new endings would be unlocked: a normal ending, in which the reader would wish to go home and a happy ending, in which the reader wished to remain forever in the fairytale world living happily ever after with their partner.

- “And that’s where it gets weird,” Sophie pauses, opening up the Trial By Tale wiki page. “Every single LI has a walkthrough and seven possible endings.”

- She shows Agatha a bunch of characters, offering some commentary on their personalities and backstories. Then, she pauses at the last. "All but one." The character is the prettiest, if not a bit too perfect. ‘Tedros of Camelot’, it says on the top of his page, his basic info and biography listed to the side, but it’s full of gaps, blanks and ‘???’s. It was mentioned that he was a dateable character, yet no walkthrough was provided.

- “Why doesn’t it say anything? Has he not been released?”

- “No one has managed to get his route so far, but according to the game developers, it’s possible. We don’t even know what his voice sounds like.”

- “And you think you will because…?”

- “I’m me. I’m getting Tedros’ route even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

- Agatha decides to leave her be, going back to the books, while asking for her to at least lower the volume.

- An hour or so goes by until Sophie grows hungry and decides to leave the library, going back to the dorm. After that, Agatha finally manages to concentrate, and time goes by in a flash.

- In fact, it passes so quickly that she’s not even sure what time it was. When did everyone leave?

- Her phone is dead and the clock on the wall is frozen at midnight. Probably broken, Agatha decides. It couldn’t be midnight, the lights were still on, the library closed at 10:30pm sharp and no one came to kick her out. She was tired, but she wasn’t deaf. She calls for the librarian.

- All the lights turn off at once. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t freak her out a bit.

- Then, she notices a blue glow from under the table. Please don’t let it be a demon.

- It’s a smartphone, with a bedazzled case, a loading blue screen emitting the light. Trial By Tale’s soundtrack starts to play and soon enough the words appear. Touch anywhere to start. That was Sophie’s phone. Which would be fine and normal and okay if Agatha wasn’t pretty sure Sophie left with it.

- The music starts to loop, and Agatha uses the light to guide her to the entrance, only to find it locked. Every other exit was blocked as well. Ha. Funny.

- Eventually, she surrenders, clicking on the screen, trying to close the app. The last thing she hears is ‘milady!’ and everything turns black as she feels the floor disappear from under her feet, her consciousness fading as she fell into an abyss of darkness.

- She wakes up lying on grass, near a gate, the words Trial By Tale engraved on top of it.

- She pinches herself, feeling it sting as she stared at the gate, pinching harder and harder to the point she nearly screamed in pain. The gate was still there. Agatha focus on her senses. She’s never able to smell things on her dreams.

- This place smells like dirt, pines, dried blood and iron.

- It’s a dream, she tries to convince herself. Very vivid dream, but it’s a dream.

- A bunch of floating text appears in front of her: Welcome, competitors!

- The storian tells Agatha everything Sophie already told her: it’s a tournament, in which 40 teens from different fairytale kingdoms, including the reader world, must compete amongst themselves for survival during 24 hours. You could pair up with someone, forming an alliance, but there could only be one winner. Then, the world froze, turning black and white, three options appearing in thin air:

A: I’m a boy

B: I’m a girl

C: I’m neither/both/something else.

- Agatha experiments. The text didn’t respond to her voice or gestures; she had to touch it. B. They disappeared up in smoke, being replaced by a new choice:

A: climb over the gate early

B: go in as soon as the gong goes off

C: run into the woods

- All of those sound horrible, she’ll hang around here, thank you very much.

- Agatha decides to pick B, because it sounded the least likely to get her killed. Tapping the option, color returns and more texts appears, telling her the rest of the rules. Apparently, all forms of magic and weapons were allowed, as it was a tournament to the death.

- Well, she had neither a weapon nor any magic, geez, things were certainly looking up.

- A gong can be heard and Agatha waits for her legs to magically move according to her choice.

- They don’t.

- She debates on staying put for a few minutes, maybe way too many, but then she remembers: casual route endings vary from mildly sad to terribly gory. Agatha doesn’t wanna find out which one she’d get by sticking around.

- Her future now depends on her romancing one of these pieces of code. Thankfully, it was just a dream, right?

- Inside the arena (?), she gets some other choices, which Agatha uses to her advantage, trying to figure out which LI she was going for and how to win them over.

- Hort, according to her friend, was the easiest to please and the most boring of them all. Nicola was efficient and Sophie had managed to unlock her happy ending without a walkthrough. Aric was a psycho, and so was Japeth. Don’t pick Rhian, her friend had warned. Anadil was a hard one to guess without the walkthough, Hester was super hot and Agatha’s type but that could go very wrong (clearly her type wasn’t working out, as she was painfully single) and-

- Is that Japeth or Rhian? She can’t tell, but he’s coming her way.

A: introduce yourself

B: try to kill him

C: hide behind the rock

- She chooses C, but climbs a tree instead, because he surely would be able to see her behind the rock, was he blind or something?

- “You sure are taking your time choosing,” a voice whispers from the branch above her, nearly giving her a heart attack, “...first time player maybe? Or just dumb?”

- Tedros, the mysterious character, was looking down at her, resting on a higher branch.

- Agatha glares at him before blurting: “You’re shorter than you look on your CG.”

- He chokes. “You can hear me?”

- “Why are you british?” she notices the accent, given how different it sounded from all the other voice actors.

- “I’m bi,” he frowns at her in offended confusion.

- (The himbo energy in this bus is astronomical.)

- They bicker a bit and Japeth grows suspicious of the hushed conversation, nearing the tree. Tedros asks for her help taking him down. Agatha is like, sure, whatever at this point, just trying to forget that Tedros broke the fourth wall. It’s a dream, don’t overthink too much.

- She distracts Japeth, and Tedros tries to ambush him, but it backfires horribly, resulting in Tedros now being a few seconds away from dying a very very painful death.

A: run away

B: ally yourself with Japeth

- Agatha hesitates over option A, convincing herself that Tedros wasn’t a real person. He was a just a character in a game. But while the entire world is black and white waiting for her answer, she swears his eyes remain icy blue.

- Trick of the light?

- She presses A but throws herself towards Japeth, colliding with him. Agatha ends up being stabbed in the arm, but otherwise fine, which is more than Japeth can say, as he fell into a conveniently located black hole. That hurt like a bitch, how is this a dream?

- Tedros is shook.

- “What did you do? How did you even-” he eyes the blood in her arm. “You’re bleeding!” Tedros rips his shirt to wrap it around the wound, and Agatha does her best not to stare at him while he tends to the wound.

- A blue ribbon in the sky tells Agatha she is now on Tedros’ route. A ribbon they can both read.

- “That’s… troublesome.”

- “What, is your route cursed or something?”

- “...”

- “It’s totally cursed, isn’t it?”

- They argue a bunch and Agatha tries to ditch him but ends up almost dying twice. Tedros saves her, and insists that since he accidentally gave her his route, he’ll help her stay alive for as long as he can.

- Together they figure out that Agatha’s ability to disobey the game choices might be able to uncurse his route, hopefully sending her home by the end and resetting the game as it was meant to be, allowing people play his route.

- Agatha is pretty sure Tedros is not telling her something, but she kinda does owns him her life now (“2x1, sucks to suck, reader.”) and he offered to share some of his food and hiding spot with her. Doesn’t hurt that he clearly knew how to fight and had a big sword, while Agatha had.... free will and nothing else apparently???

- They end up talking over fruits and water (we love a healthy king) in a cave and Agatha finds out basically every other character’s backstory, learning a ton about the context of these trials as well as what the game felt like for the characters.

- According to Tedros, every other character was doomed to repeat the same route and actions following the reader’s choices, only to lose all memories by the end, as the game reseted. They were all blissfully ignorant of the fact that this was, in fact, a dating simulator. All of them but Tedros. When Agatha asks him why, he closes off:

- “Every single character has a core wish they want fulfilled. It can be the same wish every time, or it can change once your route resets. My original wish contradicted the memory reset, so no one has been able to play my route at all. And if no one plays, I can’t reset. If you go home and the game resets, I’ll make a different wish and my route should be fixed for good.”

- Agatha doesn’t ask what he wished for and he doesn’t tell her either; it feels like way too personal of a question for strangers eating berries in a cave.

- She does ask him what his new wish will be, though.

- “I’ll restore my kingdom back to its former glory,” he starts, a certain sadness in his eyes. “They deserve a prince who doesn’t waste time wishing for-” Tedros interrupts himself, telling her about his kingdom instead.

- Agatha knows he’s related to King Arthur due to his name on the Trial By Tale wiki, but she’s surprised that he actually gives her that info willingly. He is indeed the prince of Camelot, but his mother abandoned the palace when he was nine and then his father died a few years later, sending the kingdom into despair and disgrace.

- (“That’s rough, buddy.”)

- To lighten the mood, she decides to tell him about ‘the reader world’.

- “To exist in your world might be something then,” he smiles, “I mean, beats hanging around here. You said you have a machine that can play music anytime you want?”

- Tedros is fascinated with everything and asks her about all sorts of stuff, like about politics, lgbtqa+ rights, tik tok, food, the economy, school and fashion trends. Also, memes, lots of memes.

- They spend like 8 hours straight hidden in a cave, just talking, bickering and actually having a lot of fun. The lack of choices even makes her forget she was still in a game.

- Tedros notices how tired she looks and offers to keep watch while she sleeps.

A: say no as a joke

B: outright refuse

- Agatha taps A.

- “Sure, do you mind if I lean on you though?”

- Is this like a date or are we like doing my route and you’re sleeping on my arm platonically? Tedros is shook, part 2.

- Agatha tries not to fall asleep, but she does take a nap, leaning on his shoulder. Surprisingly enough, an hour later she’s still alive, but her head was now on his lap and he was petting her hair.

- “Hi.”

A: get up

B: kiss him

- She doesn’t wanna get up, but she doesn’t really feel like kissing him would be appropriate for the moment. She presses B, yet remains still for next few minutes. Tedros looks a bit disappointed, as if he was waiting for her.

- “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

- “Do you want me to?”

- He doesn’t reply immediately, running his fingers through her hair. “Everyone wants to kiss me. I’m hot, I’m a prince and I’m rich.”

- “You’re gonna need to do better than that to get me to kiss you,” Agatha tells him. “If we survive this I’ll kiss you once, just before we unlock your normal ending and I go home. For a CG.”

- “But then I won’t remember it at all.”

- The comment makes her nervous. Once this is over and Tedros gets his route unlocked, he’s gonna be just another character. He’ll say things like that to everyone. Agatha has to chastise herself for growing attached to a video game character. He’s not real. He wasn’t yours to begin with, you’ve known him for less than a day. Get a grip.

- They stay in silence until another gong goes off, the storian’s text showing up in the air: “12 hours left. Only 10 competitors remain.”

A: stay in the cave

B: leave

- Agatha chooses B and they head out of the cave to see who else was alive, just in time to not be crushed under heavy rocks. Strangely they don’t bump into anyone. What they do run into, though, is a bunch of traps and creatures meant to randomly eliminate competitors. Great.

- Somehow, Agatha always chooses the right option and alters her actions just enough to save them at the last minute. Is she a pro-gamer? One can only marvel at how lucky she’s been getting in this game. No, but like, really, is she? Tedros is impressed.

- At the 6 hour mark, there’s 4 people left, including the two of them. He’s been eyeing Agatha weirdly and she doesn’t know what to think of it because she liked hanging out with him, but at the same time, he is a piece of code.

- There’s like, a dramatic confrontation with the other two competitors, which turn out to be Aric and Hester, not as a pair, but as individuals, and it ends up working out in Tedros and Agatha’s favor, as those two end up murdering each othe while Tedros and Agatha have the advantage of teamwork. It’s a great action sequence, but if you’ve read this far, I’m pretty sure you’re not here for the action.

- Anyway, the storian appears, but unlike the other routes, instead of giving Agatha the opportunity to bargain for them both to survive, her options are:

A: kill Tedros

B: kill Tedros

- Agatha doesn’t tap either. She stays still, glaring at the pen while the world remained black and white.

- Then, the entire arena starts to shake, the game glitching as Tedros moves, his colors fading in and out, his expression tortured, as if just smiling at her was painful, his eyes glowing unnaturally blue. “Let’s get you home,” he mouths, before stabbing himself with his own sword, falling to the floor as the colors returned for good.

- Agatha couldn’t breathe, kneeling beside him.

- “To meet someone who’d love me for me,” he admits, bleeding out into the ground, a single tear running down his face. “That was my original wish. And then I met you.”

- She kisses him on the lips, and as you know, true love’s kiss breaks every spell, heals every wound and transcends the limits of storytelling.

- Tedros’ chest is slowly healing, but just as he gets stronger, Agatha grows weaker, starting to disappear through his fingers in rays of lights, back to the reader’s world, leaving a lonely prince by himself in a bloody arena with a magical pen.

- “Unconditional wish for the winner, hm?”

- Back at the library, Agatha wakes up with a snap, falling off her chair.

- The clock on the wall reads 10pm and the few students left at the library glare at her. She hurries to gather her things in her arms, going back to her dorm trying to make sense of what just happened. It was all a dream. It had to be because her arm is intact. She has been running on too much caffeine, finals start the next morning, she was stressed, that’s all.

- Sophie is still playing the game once Agatha arrives at the dorm, and as soon as she walks in, her friend tells her the news:

- “See, darling, I told you I’d get Chaddick’s route eventually!”

- Chaddick’s route?

- Agatha doesn’t even reply, going straight to bed, still haunted. That night, she has no dreams of handsome boys in caves, neither does she dream of blue-eyed princes bleeding out.

- Monday afternoon, though, a distracted Agatha is walking back to her dorm after taking her exams, when she bumps into someone, nearly knocking her over. She is about to yell at the stranger when her voice gets caught on her throat.

- “To exist in your world might be something,” the familiar stranger smiles at her, “I mean, I’m Tedros Pendragon, nice to meet you.”

#school for good and evil #The School for Good and Evil #sge #agatha x tedros #Tagatha #tedros of camelot #Agatha of camelot #Agatha of Woods Beyond

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mi6-cafe · 4 years

Photo

THE LDWS ENTRIES FOR WEEK 1 ARE IN!

Now it’s your turn to READ&VOTE!

Let’s refresh your memory first.

This week the word count was 100 words and this was the prompt:

[drabbles below the line]

HOW DO YOU VOTE?

Read all the drabbles.

Choose three that you like the most.

Fill out this VOTING FORM, telling us your favourites. (You can even leave anonymous feedback for the author).

NOTE: If you are a competitor, you CANNOT vote for your own fic. But please, do vote. :)

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Title: 100 Seconds Author: sorion Warnings: implied canon-typical violence Summary: Seconds counting down to words that count.

"One hundred seconds, 007," Q says.

Bond knows. His reliable inner countdown always lets him know how close death is. Eighty seconds until he has to be off the empty German plane.

Sixty-eight seconds to not only outwit his personal death, but the death of everyone the crashing plane will kill in London.

Forty-seven to break the auto pilot, divert destiny from its path and the plane into the channel.

Thirty to grab a parachute, listen to the increasingly panicky voice in his ear.

"James! Fifteen seconds!"

Thirteen seconds for a jump and three words.

"I'm coming home."

Two.

One.

Title: Delayed Author: Ksania/Starrboned Warnings: None Summary: It wasn't flying that scared Q the most.

The stuttering departure board snaps into place, merciless and cold.

Delayed.

Impatient, Q taps his fingers against his thigh.

It wasn't flying that scared Q. He knew better than most how safe planes were, the intricate mechanisms that kept them afloat.

They didn't always land; Q waits for the inevitable to happen.

His eyes blink with the board: one, two, ten thousand - the seconds melt into months. Q stands still while the airport is buzzing around him.

"Q?" James's voice cuts like lightning through fog. "Have you been waiting for long?"

Q shakes his head, smiling thinly.

"Not at all."

Title: Flight Plan Author: Anyawen Warnings: None Summary: A chance sighting requires changes on the fly.

Be a dear and change my flight, won't you?

You'll survive 3 hours in economy class.

FIN2424 to Valencia. Leaves in 35 min.

I'm not a bloody travel agent. Book your own holiday.

I had been hoping to get back to London. Spend some time spoiling your cats. And you. Unfortunately ... <image0805202013.jpg>

… That's Nīkau Tama.

Indeed. They're announcing last call for boarding.

Keep your pants on.

Where's the fun in that?

Ticket confirmation is in your email.

Thank you, darling.

Just catch the bastard and come home, then you can thank me properly.

I prefer 'improperly'.

...

So do I.

Title: Seatmates Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: None Summary: Departure lounges are lonely, until they're not.

Airport departure boards were depressing if you rarely had the chance to decide your destination yourself. Bond watched the crowds as he waited for his flight to be posted. He was supposed to be accompanied by a Q branch expert but they were late. He'd kissed Q goodbye early this morning, holding him close in the grey dawn light. Saying goodbye was getting harder lately. Someone moved up next to him and he blinked. “Q? But you hate flying.”

“Overstated,” Q responded succinctly. “Valencia is warmer than London and I hate cold worse. There are perks. We're going first class.”

Title: Boarding Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: None Summary: He waits to board the plane.

“Flight BA25007 to Kingston is now boarding.”

Heaving a sigh, he stood, clutching his ticket. Was he really doing this? Boarding a plane to Jamaica on the trail of a washed-up double-oh, just to tell him- no. No thinking about that right now. That could wait. It was a long flight. Plenty of time to decide how to tell him.

Shuffling into line, he fingered his passport. He missed having the power to skip the rigmarole and just board. But this wasn’t a sanctioned mission.

The new Quartermaster had better things to do.

This was personal. Bond had to know.

Title: Homeward Bound Author: Iambid/Flantastic Warnings: None Summary: It’s late, Q’s tired and James’s flight is due.

Heathrow is deserted.

Q is alone in the waiting area except for a lone family, waiting for a loved one. He’s waiting for James. He’s not sure if James ever thought of him as a loved one, not since Madeleine…

The arrivals board clatters, the quaintly old-fashioned sound waking him from his doze. He’s so tired, should have been in bed hours ago, but James asked him to be there and even after everything, he can’t say no to him.

He thinks to himself that maybe James is the loved one as he stands stiffly and waits for his agent.

Title: Vision Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: some dreams are bound to never become real

"I had a dream" Raoul stretched amidst the rumpled sheets, reaching out to land a hand on James' belly "A nice one?" "I was at an airport" "Why?" "Leaving" "For?" "I'm not sure, the flight details kept blurring and changing on the board" James looked down at Raoul, as if the key to his dream lay amidst those distorted features "I was leaving London. Permanently. It felt better than I always thought it would" shame burned on his tongue. Raoul hummed, thumb tracing the pucker of a scar "It was just a dream" and like one, they had no future.

Title: Fight and Flight Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: no Archive warnings apply Summary: All the comforts of the first-class lounge

It hadn’t been his finest moment, Bond admitted as he prowled through BritishAir’s first-class lounge. He’d had a monumentally stupid fight with Q and stormed out, demanding to take the next mission available.

The departure board flickered. His flight was delayed again and Bond groaned — more hours of inaction to brood over his poor behaviour.

He paced until the board flickered again, showing a further delay, and he slumped, defeated.

After a while, he rubbed his face and looked up glumly.

COME HOME, it flickered.

Bond sighed, a rueful smile emerging, wondering if make up sex was an option.

Title: Time and Place Author: Venstar Warnings: none Summary: Travel

It was a simple process. Approach the board and wait.

“Time Agent 007.”

The only acknowledgment of his name spoken softly through his earpiece was the slight turn of his head.

“Your countdown. 5,4,3,2,1…” The voice trailed off as the board flickered before 007’s eyes divulging his next destination. “You will have seventy-two hours to complete your mission. Good luck in 2424.”

“And when I’m done? How about dinner, Q?”

If a snort could sound posh, leave it to Q to figure that trick out.

Q countered his offer. “How about you return my equipment in one piece?”

“With pleasure.”

#10

Title: The Destination Board Author: ladymars Warnings: No Warnings Apply (Canon Character Death?) Summary: M remains vigilant, even after everything.

She finds the oddest device when she first arrives. A departure board flickering with the destinations of the colleagues she had left behind. M does remember that 008 was to be deployed to Havana and that R had a conference at Frankfurt. Her new friends here tell her there's much more to explore and enjoy, now that she has time to repose, but she decides to linger. No rest for the wicked, of course. She catches an expected arrival at Altaussee, Austria followed by an unexpected one. Huh. She should have suspected he would have boarded a plane for him.

#11

Title: Trinity Author: sparklycitrus Warnings: None Summary: An unholy alliance.

When the airport bulletins all over Europe began to glitch, Q was at home, packing. He’d already given away his cats, and the only things he was taking consisted of a single suitcase and his laptop. The train ticket Bond had sourced him sat securely in his pocket. He was cutting it a bit close, but there should still be time left before everything crashed. Literally.

In a remote part of Russia, Raoul Silva turned from the camera feeds to the man next to him. “Clever boy,” he commented, to which Bond merely smiled, as they watched the chaos unfold.

#12

Title: Buggering Off Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: He shouldn’t hope...

JB: Where are you? Oh, for fuck’s sake. NLQ: How did you get this number? JB: That doesn’t answer my question, Q. NLQ: No longer Q, actually. You’re not the only one who gets to retire and bugger off. JB: I came back. NLQ: Then you can carry on destroying someone else’s tech. JB: ... JB: Please. I need to talk with you. Just give me a hint. He shouldn’t hope… shouldn’t invite this man into his fresh start. His thumb hovers above the screen. He snaps a picture of the split-flap departures board, hits “send,” and runs for the gate.

#13

Title: (dis)quiet Author: azure3795 Warnings: none Summary: Waiting for an arrival.

Slots on the display board are flipping, a monotonous voice from the PSA intercom ever drowned out by the bustling of people arriving and departing drones on, and he waits.

He cradles a travel cup in his hands, the half drained beverage inside long since gone cold and sloshes around with dead weight. Logically, he knows it no longer provides the spot of warmth he seeks.

No matter.

“Q?”

He nearly jumps, but uses the momentum to plaster on a smile that doesn’t resemble a grimace. Good enough.

“Bond,” Q greets and thinks not of the Walther in his bag.

#14

Title: A Grand Romantic Gesture Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: Q is waiting for his flight to Berlin.

He was drinking his second coffee when Bond came.

“What are you doing here? Don't tell me you're trying to stop me in some grand romantic gesture?” he was joking, but his smile faded when he saw Bond's reaction.

“Oh, God. You are, aren't you?”

Bond sighed: “I'm bad at this. I should have prepared a speech. Or should I sing?”

“Please don't.”

“Just… Can you please stay? For me.”

For a moment Q wished he could do that. But nothing would change, he knew that, and deep down, even Bond knew it.

“Goodbye, James.”

The plane was leaving soon.

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