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linkspooky · 3 months

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You need to make another one of those "metas written by comparing characters with another show you liked" post about Getou now that you experienced FGO Morgan/Aesc.

Time to compare two characters from two different shows I liked (in this case Jujutsu Kaisen and Fate Grand Order: Cosmos of the Lostbelt 6 Faerie Britian) to illustrate what makes a good corruption / fallen hero arc. Two of the best examples I can think of in recent memory are Geto Suguru, and Morgan le Fay of Faerie Britian. They both have tragic arcs which follow similar beats which I think will illustrate exactly why audiences find these characters so compelling.

Both of these characters have their stories told out of order, appearing as villains first before their backstory is revealed but for the sake of simplicity I'm going in chronological order, the heroes they started as all the way to the villains they ended up being.

Before beginning though, a brief lesson on tragedy. Aristotle's poetics argued tragedy runs on the principal of catharsis. The audience feels for the characters on stage, no matter how terrible their acts may be. He argued in favor of moral ambiguity in its heroes. The tragic hero must neither be a villan or virtuous man, but a "character between these two extremes, ... a man who is not eminently goo and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice of depravity, but by some error or frailty [Aristotle's Poetics.]

The protagonists of tragedies are still heroes, but their good qualities are twisted against them. A tumblr post I see going around from time to time makes the argument that if Othello (the protagonist of Othello) were in Hamlet the story would not be a tragedy because Otello would just stab his uncle and avenge his father. If Hamlet (the protagonist of Hamlet) were in Othello, the story would not be a tragedy because Hamlet who is a characteristic overthinker would probably not fall victim to Iago's manipulations and jump to conclusions the way Othello did. Both of these characters are heroic, Hamlet is a clever and scheming prince, Othello is a talented general a moor who's managed to rise up the ranks in a racist society. However, they are both put into stories where those heroic values are twisted against them by the narrative framework itself. So to make the protagonists of tragedies into villains who were evil all along, ruins the moral ambiguity and therefore the catharsis of a tragedy.

Geto Suguru and Morgan Le Fay are heroes, placed in a narrative framework that twists their own heroic traits against them in ways they can't endure. They fall because of frailty, not because they were inherently evil to begin with. They are antagonists who have the qualities of protagonists, and once were arguably protagonists of the story, which is probably why they have so many fans in the audience despite the fact that they are both of them mass murderers and tyrants.

Now with the long preamble let's look at the stories.

Both characters start as essentially protagonists, and they foil the protagonists they are fighting against during their villain phase. Geto Suguru is a heavy foil for Yuji (we'll talk about this later) and Morgan so heavily foils Castoria because they are both the chosen one.

I'm going to start with Morgan because Fate/Nasuverse lore is a pain to explain. To simplify her story, Morgan Le Fay is from an alternate universe version of Britian. In that Britian everything is ruled by faeries. These are trickster faeries who are total jerks and extremely murderous at times. They were supposed to forge excalibur, but they just didn't do it because they were lazy. This was very bad, so the universe sent a big huge guy to tell them to forge the sword. They were lazy though so instead of listening to him they murdered him in his sleep and he died a horrible death.

The faeries could no longer be forgiven for failing to craft excalibur which is a really important sword that needed to exist, so god or heaven or fate or whoever decided to punish them and sent Aesc who will later be known as Morgan le Fay.

There's some time travel shenanigans but I'm going to skip it because it's confusing. Basically Aesc's job is to wipe out all fairy life and bring an end to their alternate universe, but she decides to defy her destiny instead. The heavens or whoever keep conjuring calamities to wipe out the fairites to punish them for their sins, but instead Aesc fights against them and saves the fairies.

I had a duty to paradise, but I knew that duty would result in Britiain's destruction. This other me, though... She loved Britiain dearly, even the lostbelt version of it. I thought about it, and I realized I wanted the same thing she did. From then on I chose to live as her. (Witch! Witch! Witch! You were the only one to survive the calamity) Countless times, I stopped the calamities. Countless times, I mended clan disputes to end wars. I did not mind. It was not the fairies I loved. I only loved britain itself and the home I would make here. It would be my very own Britian - something that was forever beyond my reach in Proper Human History. I did everything I could to make it a reality. Eventually though, I realized the best way to do that was to keep the faeries safe.

However, because Aesc is not one of them the fairies are generally ungrateful for her saving them again and again. Aesc gathers comrades around her to help ward off these calamities and save people, but she's often attacked by the same fairies she's just saved.

She continues fighting the system of her world again and again, until she's betrayed for the last time in her attempt to save Britan. The final straw is when after years of hard work she's finally brokered a piece and made a king who rules over all the allied fairy tribes, only for his coronation to be ruined, the king to be assassinated along with the entire round table. The king was also her lover, Uther.

Aaah! Aaaah! Why? Why? Why? This was supposed to be the greatest day in fairy history... Everything was supposed to change for the better! BUt they killed Uther! They slaughtered my entire round table like they were trash! They asked the world of us! They thought the world of Uther! BUt now, they've poisoned him...THey were too afraid to even face him cowards. Uther talk to me, please say something! I never let failure stop me! I've kept trying all these thousands of years! Am I doomed to failure here, too! Is it still not enough? Am I not enough? Is it not... Can I not save Britain? Is there no Britain that can be mine! Peace, equality, I never should have tried for either! How dare they! I can never forgive them ever!

You see much like Geto Suguru which I'll later illustrate, Aesc is caught in a cycle where she must continually fight disasters for the faeries to save them only to be met with their continued disdain. Her own higher minded intentions to save the people are what damns her to this painful cycle. If she'd been less heroic, if she didn't care she wouldn't have suffered. She's sacrificing herself over and over again, but sacrificing yourself is in a way just suffering. No one actually wants to walk the thorny path of the martyr, you'll get your feet hurt from all the thorns.

The people who are now accustomed to being saved despite doing none of the work themselves, are by and by completely ungrateful for Aesc's sacrifice. Aesc is a hero, but she's not in a hero's story so she doesn't get any of the benefits of a hero really. She's working with higher minded and more idealistic goals in a deeply cynical world and punished for it. I remind you, she was just there to kill all the faeries and end the world but she tried to save them instead.

It's important to emphasize their good intentions, because a shallower character reading would suggest that they just came out of the womb wanting to murder people. However, they're driven to it because they tried to be good, because they tried to be a hero. They are like Hamlet, and like Othello in the wrong story. They're also sacrificing themselves going against the system of their world and trying to be better than it, only to get dragged down. Their resentment grows against the people they are trying to save, the selfish and weak people who don't seem all that grateful for their heroism. The ones who aren't making sacrifices, the ones who are just content being saved.

I finally understood. My enemy wasn't just the calamities, it was the faeries of Britain as well. They were pure and innocent in the truest sense, they enjoyed both good and evil things alike without losing either that purity or innocence. They are at their core, no different from the loathsome humans who drove me from britain. So I crushed every possible source of malice. Vested interests. Discrimmination. Oppression. Envy. Mockery. All of it. But it wasn't enough. A few fairies took a look at the foundation of peace so many had worked so hard to build ... and tore it apart, because they didn't like it, because they could.

This is what finally leads to Morgan's breaking point, to decide that actually... fairies don't deserve rights. Morgan decides that the fairies are unworthy of salvation and rather than being the hero the only way to accomplish her goals is to become the oppressor and tyrant.

I give up, if everything has failed if it has all come to nothing, then I can never believe in people's so called goodness or understand it. Even if I did, what would be the point? Everything I did, everything I worked for... was just a waste of time. After all the times they betrayed me I should ahve known better... but I still clung foolishly to a sliver of hope. ANd now, because I wasted my time caring about something so utterly absurd, I've failed yet again. If my intent was to keep britain alive, then I was a fool to think being its savior was the way to accomplish it. No more. I will find another way. A better way. ...That's it. I won't deliver the fairies to absolution; I won't deliver salvation. Enough of this faerie of paradise, enough of being Avalon le Fae, I should have ruled this land from the start.

However, as I said it's only Morgan's repeated attempts to be the hero and save the fairies that drove her to this conclusion. However, I'd be amiss to say that Morgan didn't have flaws or selfish qualities from the start. Morgan le Fay is created from the Morgan le Fay we created with from proper legend. I'm not going to explain the lore, but basically she's an alternate universe version, who received memories from the Morgan le Fay of our universe. She knows the story of Morgan le Fay who tried to steal King Arthur's kingdom out from under him.

Alternate Universe Morgan le Fay still had the same chip on her shoulder, and entitlement that our Morgan did. She wanted the kingdom, and wanted Britain for herself. Her desire to play savior might have come from that very same entitlement that she deserves britain. Similiarly, she was most likely hurt so badly from the lack of praise because she also deserves praise for her actions. She has a bit of a superiority complex that places her above the fairies and makes her believe she has the right to rule.

However, as I said Morgan didn't start out as a tyrant she did earnestly try to save the faeries despite harboring those more negative qualities and selfish intentions. She may have had a more self-serving variety of selflessness but it's more the fragility of her that causes her fall. She didn't fall because she was rotten to begin with, she was just not strong enough to withstand years and years of ungratefulness from the faeries and betrayal. She has all the makings of a proper hero, she decides to defy destiny to save the people of faerie britain when she was supposed to be their destroyer. However, because she's in a tragedy she falls due to her insecurities and flaws overwhelming her rather than rising to the occasion.

Her manga chapter and the FGO Lostbelt game prose itself uses the light in the distance as a metaphor for this. Morgan continues going forward on the faint light of hope that things will work out for her and that even as a tyrant she can save Britain. However, it's that same light that damns her. In tragedies heroic qualities become flipped into flaws. Morgan's most heroic quality is her determination, the willpower to endeavor for thousands of years to try to save Faerie Britain, but that determination makes her unchanging, causes her to make the same mistakes over and over again, and just makes her continually suffer like Sisyphus pushing his boulder up the hill.

But that light is just an insect trap - or at least that's how it is for the protagonist of the tragedy. Road to hell, and all that.

After reaching her breaking point Morgan decides she'll no longer try to save the fairies but rather only care about saving the kingdom itself. She goes from the kingdom's hero to its oppressive tyrant after seizing the throne for herself.

That's where we meet the villain we know today.

Now shifting gears to Geto Suguru, he is someone who starts out his story trying to be a hero. A little bit of context on the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, it takes place in an urban fantasy version of Japan where the jungian collective unconscious and the negative emotions of humanity create curses that kill and eat people. These curses need to be exorcised by a few special humans who are given superpowers known as jujutsu sorcerers.

There is an institution of sorcerers known as Jujutsu High, which raises sorcerers from a young age gifted with these powers to exorcise sorcerers. THese teenagers are often sent out on msisions. This is different from most stories of teenage heroes with superpower, because fighting curses is brutal and dangerous and most of these kids are going to die young. There's also no end in sight to the fight against curses, because no matter how many curses are exorcised humans will just keep making more.

Not only do they live in a cynical, and brutal world but most sorcerers are insanely selfish. Just to give an example of how immoral sorcerers are, one of the allies of the main characters is implied to molest her brother, and if she's not she still uses her like 12 year old brother as a child soldier. Nobody ever bothers to question this because the institution of sorcerers are inherently corrupt, it's an instituion that continually sends children off to their deaths and uses people as nothing more than cogs.

Caught within this unfair system and trapped in a cycle of exorcising curses that are just going to come back anyway is Geto Suguru, who is not only a model sorcerer he's presented as much more selfless than your average sorcerer. He's directly contrasted against Gojo Satoru who is kind of just a petty kid with a god complex.

Gojo uses his powers selfishly, he only fights because he's really powerful and killing curses is a way to test and use his abilities. (This is literally stated as canon by Nanami don't fight me on this I'm simplifying his motivations because this is not a Gojo meta look at the entire fight with Sukuna saving Megumi was a secondary concern he wanted to fight a strong opponent). Whether people are saved by his actions are a secondary concern.

Geto on the other hand goes against the grain for most of Jujutsu Society, and believes that they as stronger people have a duty to use their strength to protect the weak. This idea of noblesse oblige is way way different from the attitudes of most sorcerers, who as I said usually turn into petty little people with god complexes.

Not to say Geto doesn't have a god complex, but we'll get to that later. Geto is explicitly contrasted against Gojo who's the only other powerful sorcerer and his best friend, but doesn't think they have an obligation to use their powers to help anyone.

Right away we have two things in common with Morgan le Fay, number one they hold themselves to a higher minded ideal that of using their powers to act as a hero and protect the people underneath them. Number two, this is a choice they make to be better than the people around them. Morgan's destiny is to destroy the faeries and she tries to save them. Sorcerers usually just keep their heads down and do their jobs, they're not heroes, they don't save people they kill curses. In fact, the sorcerers who are selfish assholes (Mei Mei) are wildly succesful, the ones who try to help other people like Nanami die young.

They sacrifice themselves for others. Geto pursuing his higher minded ideal is faced with the same kind of tragedy that Morgan is, where his attempts to save a teenage girl named Riko not only blatantly fail, they fail because of Toji a person who cannot use cursed energy. Everyone they tried to protect died, and they're shown first hand not only does the world not really care about their idealism, but they're not really powerful enough to change this world in any way.

Morgan's lover Uther and all of her allies is ruthlessly slaughtered, by the same faeries she was trying to save after she brokered peace. Geto tries to save a little girl, and he not only watches her die, but he sees an entire crowd of normal people, the people he is fighting to save applause for her death. They all applaud her death because they're a part of a cult that believes that the girl was an affront to their god, but she was mostly just a normal teenager. He witnesses first hand that normal people do not care for the fate of Jujutsu Sorcerers whatsoever.

If Geto were more selfish he would be rewarded. If he didn't attempt to save people, if he just only cared about exorcising curses like Gojo did he'd probably become more powerful and he wouldn't succumb to despair the way he had. Geto exists in a narrative where selfishness is rewarded, and his selfless, heroic traits are continually punished.

This traumatic event makes him aware similarly to the brutal cycle he is caught up in. Morgan le Fay can't save the faeries, because faeries are jerks who can't change. Geto will just continually exorcise curses over and over again. Not only is humanity just going to keep producing more curses, but humans are vastly indifferent to the sacrifices that sorcerers (who are mostly children) keep making to try and save them.

Geto's choice to protect people is the cause of his suffering, because sacrifice is inherently taking on suffering for the sake of someone else - therefore sacrifice is suffering.

This too, leads to Geto's eventual breaking point where he lets his resentment for the same people he's trying to save corrupt him. An incident where just after seeing his dear friend die because of a curse, he's brought to a village of people. The whole village put two little girls in a cage, who were capable of seeing curses and blamed them as the scapegoat for a curse reflecting his village. Geto sees a flash of what happened to Riko again, a crowd full of normal people who don't have to fight curses applauding for the sacrifice of a little girl who was innocent. It's the macrocosm, all of society forcing a few sorcerers to die exorcising curses for them, shown on the microcosm, one village scapegoating two little girls who did nothing wrong.

That's what leads Geto to snap and massacre the whole village. He's now turned against the masses he wants to protect. He then decides that instead of protecting the masses, he's going to kill them and build a world of only sorcerers. He's no longer trying to save them, like Morgan le Fay he's turned to the hero and the Tyrant.

They both even utter similiar words.

I will never save the faeries! I will never forgive the faeries! I don't like monkeys. That's the truth I chose.

Monkeys is by the way, the word Geto uses to refer to normal people who cannot fight curses or even see them. People who don't have superpowers.

One more time I want to emphasize Geto did not come out of the womb wanting genocide. Hamlet didn't start out the play stabbing people. He does have his flaws, just like Morgan by assuming the role of the hero he sees himself in a separate, superior category to the people he wants to protect. There's a line I like in a youtube analysis for for Yuji that applies to Geto as well.

(Other people exist to be saved, which gives Yuji a role in the world) In a way Yuji thinks other people exist to validate his own existence.

Geto begins the story not seeing other people as people. They exist in a category separate from himself. Part of the reason that his failures hit him so hard, is because they disprove this idea of superiority he has for himself. He's shown his god complex is just a complex and he's as flawed and capable of failure as any mortal.

It's an inability to recognize that failure, learn from it, and reconcile it with themselves that causes both Morgan le Fay and Geto to spiral. They are the hero, they are trying to be just, they should reap the just rewards for being a hero. Geto even says as such in a moment of rare jealousy for Gojo, that Gojo is someone who also has godlike power and if Geto had that same power he could change the world the way he wants. He could create his more just world.

Morgan and Geto are characters who begin their narratives with superior complexes and senses of entitlement, selfishly selfess heroes and those negative qualities eventually lead them to fail. Geto thought being a sorcerer made him superior, he just also thought that with that superiority came a responsibility to protect others. Morgan le Fay thought she was the rightful king of Britain, she also thought that divine right to be king also came with an obligation to protect Britain. However, they're not meant to be seen as people who all along wanted to oppress and hurt others.

The key word with tragedy is catharsis, we are supposed to feel for the protagonists of tragedies. We're supposed to see our own traits reflected in them. It's their human qualities to drive them to tragedy.

After all, you reader on tumblr would probably not be able to be a perfectly selfless hero. If you saved someone and then they immediately tried to kill you, you would probably just be a little bitter about it. If you were like Geto and you were working tirelessly to exorcise curses, and all you got was your friends dying, I don't think you'd be like "This is okay :D". If anything, going mad in their extreme circumstances seems like a reasonable response, because could we as the audience do any better in their situations?

Of course the last similarity between Geto and Morgan (besides the fact they both adopt daughters they raise up to be little psychos but this post is getting too long already) is the fact that they both heavily foil the heroes of the story they occupy. They see themselves as villain, they play the role of villain, but they're really just heroes of another story.

Paradise or god or fate or whatever in Faerie britain eventually conjures up another chosen one. This chosen one Altria or as the fandom calls her Castoria is far less heroic. IN fact unlike Morgan who embraces the role of savior she would rather do anything she could to avoid Britain.

This is because for similiar reasons as Morgan, the faeries have basically abused her and tormented her all her life. Yet they still expect her to selflessly step up as their chosen one and save the day from the evil oppressive tyrant Morgan.

You have one protagonist who embraces their heroic quest, and even goes above and beyond by ignoring her destiny to wipe out the faeries and saving them instead. You have another who continually runs away from the heroic quest, and honestly doesn't seem to care that much about saving faeries.

Morgan is actually openly sympathetic to Castoria, and even offers to ally with her a couple of times because she bears the same burden as chosen one. This is another example of how Morgan doesn't quite fit the role of either hero or villain, the ambiguity who makes tragedy.

However, while Morgan does everything to defy fate, Castoria just kind of keeps marching along every step of Joseph Campbell's the heroes journey until she ends up defeating Morgan. Well she doesn't truly defeat her, but Morgan meets her tragic end and gets stabbed a whole bunch of times.

There's a similiar foiling between Geto, and the series protagonist Yuji who both start out the story believing that as sorcerers they have a duty to save others. There are several in story comparisons and direct parallels between the two.

Yuji attempts to save others with his power as a sorcerer over and over again, and is met with the same continual failure that Geto has. Yuji is the only real sorcerer in his generation that cares about saving strangers with his powers. Nobara wants money to live in Tokyo, Megumi only cares about protecting Yuji and his sister, Yuta only cares about his friends, Maki only wants revenge against her clan. Like Maki blatantly says whether people get saved or not by her actions is none of her business.

His own attempts to save people not only fail badly, but he watches people die. He watches a lot of people die in a situation where he is powerless to stop them.

He's met with the same tragedy of Geto but he doesn't succumb to it. The same for Castoria she doesn't decide to be a Tyrant the way that Morgan le Fay did. I would argue this isn't because of any inherent goodness that Castoria or Yuji have but rather because both of them are able to let go of their egoes. Yuji kind of believes the same thing Geto does, that other people exist to be saved by him. He's broken when he realizes that he's not a savior after all...but he's able to continue in a way that Geto isn't.

Yuji lets go of his ego entirely and believes that he's just a cog in the machine and he doesn't need to be some big hero or be rewarded at the end of his hero's journey.

Geto and Morgan le Fay both long for a role in the grand scheme of things. They are still employing narrative thinking, they need to play a story role to validate their existences. It's just that they flipped their role, they tried being the heroes but it didn't work so they're the villains now.

Geto is similiarly rebuffed by Yuta who is his eventual killer by saying that he doesn't actually care about saving the world or if Geto is right that sorcerers are superior to humans, he's only fighting for his friends.

I would say for both castoria and yuji it's not a matter of being inherently good people, but rather of being better at enduring than their counterparts are. Morgan le Fay and Geto try to take the world's suffering on their shoulders, and it breaks them because they're not heroes they're just normal people. Yuji, Castoria and to the same extent Yuta kind of learn to let go of their great heroic aspirations but because of that they're able to take on suffering better. They're trying to live in reality not a grand heroic fantasy.

To bring the example back to FGO, for Castoria and for Morgan the light of hope that led them down their heroic journeys mean two different things. For Morgan that light is an insect trap. Her flying towards that light just causes her to keep suffering through her sisyphian task. Castoria has a much more realistic point of view, she's not trying to get a happy ending or even save people, that light is the hope that at the end of her journey her actions will have meant something. It's more about the journey itself and the people she met along the way, then some big grand reward at the end.

Morgan le Fay and Geto both fail because they are fragile, because they are human. That's the most important takeaway of this long rambling post. They may be selfish, they may be entitled but they're flawed in human ways. After all, who doesn't want a happy ending?

#jjk meta #fgo meta #morgan le fay #fgo morgan #camelot #fgo lostbelt #geto suguru #suguru geto #idk what else to tag this #for the three people who are going to read this post #i hope you like this comun #the things i do for love

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ghostsy · 6 months

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Forever Hold Your Peace

WARNINGS: yandere, mentions of death, mentions of murder, non-consensual implications, implied kidnapping, hand kink if you squint

A/N: another quick short drabble, pls enjoy a deranged lil wedding crasher dabi.

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! DABI X READER

“Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

She’d never known blue to be such an angry color, but even glowing with barely contained rage, she couldn’t help but find his eyes beautiful.

“I can’t.”

It was growing all around them now, ice-colored fire licking at the tattered remains of her white dress. Still, she thought the heat was less threatening than warm.

Her answer seemed to physically wound him, the soft tremble in his brow almost begging her to say something. Something to justify whatever confusing ugly thing he felt finally standing in front of her after all these years. Something that would let him sleep at night if he were to burn her bones to ash that moment, give into that cruel voice in his fractured mind demanding he destroy any and every memory that had ever made him feel something.

“You broke your promise.”

“I wasn’t aware there were promises to keep with corpses.” There she was, that quick wit he remembered her for, loved her for, once upon a time. Even with his hand at her throat, even with the blood of the man she’d just sworn to love until death–another corpse, whose promise had quickly been fulfilled–even with his blood smeared across her cheek, she still stood tall, dignified.

“Is that what I am to you?” He breathed, thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, fingers flexing at the feel of her racing pulse under her neck, “A corpse?” It was a silly question; the patchwork wounds stapled to his rotting skin suggested he was anything but a real, living, man. If he thought about it, he really hadn’t been living for quite some time.

“No, I suppose not,” Her voice was shaky, and he couldn’t tell if the mascara-stained tears wetting her cheeks were for the mass of burning bodies behind them or for him, “More of a ghost.”

The corner of his lips quirked up, huffing a short, bitter laugh, “A ghost,” He pondered for a moment, “I like it,” His other hand made its way up from her hip, brushing at the underside of her clothed breasts, “Here I am haunting you, after all.”

“I think,” Her hands balled into fists, but he made note as they stayed trembling at her sides, “That you’re here haunting us both.”

“I guess you’re right,” His eyes fell to scan her singed gown, “In another life,” Ignoring the clenching of her jaw, he continued, “You’d have worn that dress for me.”

She swallowed, “In another life,” Her eyes left his now, sweeping the mutilated remains littering the pews, “You’d have loved me enough.”

All of a sudden he tore himself from her as if she’d burned him, “Loved you enough?” An incredulous laugh as his arm stretched out to the scene behind them, “What the fuck is all this if it isn’t enough?”

“It’s really so devastating,” She sighed out a name that was once his, and he was surprised at the weight one word could leave on his heart, “That you would consider this love.” But his anger had returned full force, and he thought maybe now he’d be able to kill her.

“Did you love him?”

Here it was, the answer that would seal her fate. He could do it if she said what he knew she’d say. He would do it.

“No,” His heart skipped a beat, “I do love him.” And all at once, the mangled coal in his chest crumbled to ash. Do it. You said you’d do it. Do it, you fucking coward.

No, he needed more. His fingers twitched at his sides, sparks of blue igniting and snuffing out in nervous repetition. Just one more thing, and he could do it.

“You can’t keep a promise to a corpse,” He spat, “But you can love one?” He stepped closer to her, glowing eyes narrowed, staring down at her.

“Not any more or less than one can love a ghost, I’d imagine.”

His hands flew back to her throat, and he wrenched her face up to meet his, “And do you?” His voice fell to a raspy whisper, and he couldn’t tell if it was out of fury or desperation, “Love a ghost?”

“I don’t want to,” And again more tears welled and fell, “I really didn’t want to.”

“That’s not what I asked.” His words were shaking with anticipation, fingers trembling as they cradled her cheeks.

“Does it matter?” She sniffed, eyes flickering to the carnage, “I shouldn’t. Especially now, I shouldn’t,” There was a wrinkle in her brow that betrayed her self-disgust, “I never should have.”

He swallowed, gaze catching on her lips, “But you do.” He’d meant it to come out as a question, but there was a sort of finality in his words. She makes you weak. Kill her. Do it. Now. Do it now. Shut up.

She tried to pull away from him, but he held her face firmly, “No matter where I go,” The turn of her voice was bitter, “You haunt me.”

A soft, manic laugh, “I think,” He leaned down, lips brushing hers, “We’ve both been haunting each other.” And after a month-long moment he surged forward, crashing his mouth against her own, tongue swallowing the strangled yelp that died in her throat.

He stepped forward as she stumbled back from the force, and her fingers flew to grip at his wrists in an attempt to stabilize herself, nails digging into the ruined skin. His leg steadied between both of hers, the bones in his patchwork hands straining as they pulled her into him, as if he were trying to make her body melt into his; make him whole.

Finally she ripped herself from him, stumbling, and wiped furiously at her lips, “I don’t want you,” Her voice was hoarse as she caught her breath, “Nothing else matters, because I don’t want you.”

It was like someone had poured ice water in his veins, and he’d come to the terrifying conclusion that it didn’t matter what she said or did; she could tell him she wanted him dead, and he’d still find an excuse to keep her here with him.

“I don’t care,” A breathless confession.

After years without, he hadn’t realized just how starved the idea of letting her go would make him feel. He intended for his flames to swallow her whole when he'd found her again, but there was an entirely more appetizing option. He’d starved himself long enough.

The tapestries along the walls had caught fire, and the light shone through the stained glass windows, casting a blue tint across her skin. Like it was marking her as his. His hand shot out to wrap around her wrist when she tried to turn away, and he yanked her back to him.

“Nothing else matters, because I don’t care.”

She tried and failed to pull her arm from his bruising grip, feet sliding as she used her full weight, “Kill me, then,” She choked on a sob, “Why don’t you just kill me, then?”

He stared at her a long moment as she struggled, streaks of ruined makeup painting her cheeks, that once angel-white gown stained black with ash, a gloss in her eyes he could only describe as heartbreak, and he couldn’t help but think that she’d never looked so beautiful.

“I can’t.”

#yandere dabi #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere todoroki touya #yandere dabi x reader #yandere touya #yandere todoroki touya x reader #yandere todoroki toya #yandere toya #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere x you #dabi is just such a beautifully tragic character and yes i will exploit it

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in-flvx · 3 months

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Sirius didn't abandon Harry to take revenge on Peter. He arrives at the scene when hagrid already has Harry in his arms and won't let him go no matter how often Sirius asks, and dueling hagrid over Harry would be a really bad idea for all the reasons. Hagrid takes Harry to dumbledore and only then does Sirius go to look for Peter. And even that wasn't necessarily for revenge, Peter could have been in danger or dead for all he knew. But he finds Peter, and that man who was supposed to be his and James' best friend, murders 13 people in front of Sirius' eyes, and frames him for the deaths of all of them, plus himself, plus the potters.

Even his breakout from azkaban isn't fueled by revenge. It's because a mass murderer hangs around Harry on a daily basis, and that's... Yk. Dangerous.

Also even without a spy in their ranks Remus was in the most vulnerable position so making him secret keeper would just put him and the potters in more danger, and telling anyone about the secret switch would defeat the purpose of a secret switch.

Sirius did nothing wrong, and I won't even count trusting the wrong person. It's not his fault that Peter switched sides.

The only thing that may have been a bit out of pocket was trying to kill Peter before the eyes of three children, but we don't really know what his plan would have been after getting all of them to the shack, and it's Remus who actually instigates this as soon as he arrives.

#sirius black #Not an apologist bc sirius never did anything wrong in his life #He just got fucked over repeatedly by just about anyone he should have been able to trust in

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xxsycamore · 6 months

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👻🕸️🦇 IKEVAMP SUITORS IN A HORROR-MOVIE SETTING ! 🦇🕸️👻 (headcanons)

Happy Halloween! Yes, this includes all 17 suitors. I'm no expert on the genre but I thought this might be fun! Some of them die. I'm sorry. Warnings: everything that can appear in a horror movie really, including mentions of death, mass murder, blood, gore, torture, cults.

If you feel like reading something more goofy where everyone lives, try Pumpkin Carving Competition At Saint Germain’s Mansion or maybe even “Welcome to Saint Germain’s mansion, please have a fang-tastic night.”

𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍

The "okay guys, we need a plan" guy and welp, he has a sword, he is willing to walk in front, why not trust him? 👍🏻✨He's totally the one to hide being infected because come on, how are they gonna get out of there alive if the leader is down? Has a dramatic scene where he's fighting off the transformation in secret. Ends up being saved by someone and survives.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎

Leonardo is the one you find along the journey, mistaking for an enemy at first as you get into his trap... when it actually turns out he's been there long before you, surviving all alone in this post-apocalyptic setting, adapted to it, prepared for every danger out there with gadgets he made himself! He might not stay alive until the end but plays a key role in the plot.

𝐌𝐎𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐓

He tried to warn them not to do anything stupid... He's now stuck suffering from the group's bad decision-making. He doesn't even know how he ended up there. Mozart is that one character that you're supposed to hate for being an asshole. At one point he falls in danger that specifically relates to a fear of his, and when everyone expects him to sacrifice another person to save himself, he does the opposite. He seemingly dies right there, breaking everyone's hearts, only to be revealed at the very end that he managed to survive!

𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂 (credits for the idea goes to @scummy-writes guys she can write a whole fic of those I swear,, it's been such a pleasure listening to her)

Isaac needs to be saved five minutes into the movie... which writes him off as the weaker one from the get-go. This is going to be bad if the situation comes to "we gotta leave someone behind or we all die here!" - but hey, DON'T LEAVE ISAAC BEHIND IF YOU WANT TO SURVIVE! Because the next thing you know everyone falls into this deadly trap that only HE can figure the way out of, using his big brain skills. His worth has been proved! Everyone loves him now! And all he wants is to go back home and never go on a trip with these guys ever again!

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑

I'm sorry, Arthur dies first. The others are trying to warn him about the cases of victims who've been sucked to a dry husk and he's like "later virgins, i have a date tonight". Yeah his date totally killed him. Bonus points if we're dealing with vampires here, because irony. It's fine though, he's still important to the plot after he dies, because we find his writing diary and he left important cues there while trying to escape from his killer. Maybe he even came close to the truth! He knows his mystery genre stuff after all...

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐒

Theo just does NOT believe paranormal exists, not even after witnessing it with his own two eyes. Worst part, he tries to convince the others too. "My broer IS NOT POSSESSED!" Uhuh! Okay Theo! You just saw cryptic images appear on his canvas without him even moving the brush but I guess he was just trying a new painting technique!! And he levitates too and his eyes are tar black but what do we know... Once Theo realizes the situation, he's out there swinging a bat (sexy), ready to beat the shit out of whatever caused this, and he's good at it. Don't worry about him dying.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

Poor baby Vincent is every sinister ghost/demon's number-one target. Vincent listens to the voices. He sympathizes with them! He makes friends with them! Maybe he doesn't even need to be possessed at this rate... Same story with joining a cult, honestly. When their bad intentions begin to come to light, Vincent puts up a fight and is suddenly not as easy to control as they thought.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍

Jean might take some bullets from our main cast while someone shouts "IT WON'T DIE!" but it's fine he's used to it... he's been dead for quite some time and not just inside. Jean is probably the result of some sick experiment about making an immortal army of warriors and. It's sad. But it's fine because he joins the protagonists now! He's friend! I hope they apologize for calling him a monster. No, he doesn't die by the end of the movie, but at what cost?

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈

"Oh, it was just Dazai." Of course it was, someone has to be that one idiot that scares the shit out of everyone until he becomes the boy who cried wolf. Which usually ends with death! I'm sorry Dazai. At least they can take him seriously now and pay some more attention to the strange things he kept on saying.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄

A very old-school villain! Bonus points if the setting is modern yet he still has a villain's lair and all that. There's something beautiful and tragic about him and he probably dramatically lets himself be defeated even if he had a chance to escape. Everyone will remember him. Mostly for the mental and physical torture, but still.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐓𝐄

"But we have one hour left until the curse kills us all, how are we gonna get there on time?!" *sounds of safari jeep pulling over* "Someone ordered a ride?" - yeah. Comte is here to save the day with the power of money friendship. And not just that! Who is the one who suddenly remembers a family heirloom that is as old as time and suspiciously shaped exactly like the key they're searching for? I also want him to lose an eye or a limb for some reason... just for a little touch of gore maybe?

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍

Gods, Sebastian is the only prepared one, bless him for that. He's read all about that urban legend while everyone's been busy denying its existence. He is not scared at all, too... you might wonder if he's just geeking out during all of this bloody mess or something. He's so important, please don't let him die please don't let him die... he died.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒

The villain's aide that infiltrates the protagonists' group. By the time his betrayal scene happens and he nearly kills three members of the group with a chainsaw, we get a glimpse of his trauma and that's the key to sucessfully talking him out of doing it, eventually disarming him and catching him. He manages to escape and maybe later returns as an ally! Yay!

𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓

Gods he's scary. I'm not watching this. Of course he's the killer, what did you expect? Has a tragic backstory of being used by an even more fucked-up killer in the past to do the dirty work for - and kept doing it even after getting rid of them himself, because that's the only thing he knows how to do. You can't fix him.

𝐕𝐋𝐀𝐃

IT'S HIMMM he's the scary little boy from the photos and the same scary little boy that always shows up in the rose garden and his soul just won't rest in peace!! Shows up in his adult form plenty too, just expect his expression to twist into something horrible every second. He needs to be sealed forever somewhere and it would take three sequels to get to know what would actually defeat him once and for all.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄

... I'm sorry but there definitely is a lighthouse in this movie. And you can totally trust Drake! The poor guy's body just washed up for you to discover, tragically drowned-oh, wait no, he's breathing. He's totally not the same sailor who died around here many, many years ago. He's gonna keep you good company in the lighthouse alone for miles.

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐎

Galileo is the one who saw the Thing™ with his own eyes, while he was watching the stars one night ages ago. He dedicated not only his massive research but also his life to this, yet noone believes him. If he somehow manages to find that one missing piece that connects everything together, he will die a horrifying death before he can even share it with the main cast. Rip...

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @my-day6 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

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lesuccube · 6 months

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➚ 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐊 𝐃 : ᴀᴜ-ᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴘɪɴᴘʀɪᴄᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — what would you do if you discovered someone close to you was a mass murdering vampire ?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dark trojan [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 0.4k

there's a certain aspect to miguel that leaves you slightly baffled at times. you know he works long hours at alchemax, sometimes to the point where he'll even stay the night or two but on days he comes home, he's… different.

he becomes snappy and snarky, his usual towering height hunched over, tanned skin a shade lighter from how much he forgets to take care of himself, eyes sunken and discolored and if you look even closer, the slight protruding canines he tries to hide by mumbling whenever he speaks.

but after a few hours of going on a ‘walk’, usually during the night, he comes home looking alright again like he didn't look like he was about to be on his deathbed. standing tall again, his hulking frame towering almost everybody around him. most nights then he'll come back looking normal again, appearance and behavior-wise… save for the way his usual brown eyes border a red hue under the light.

the supernatural don't exist on this earth. lots of robotic stuff and ai, yes, but werewolves and vampires? what year are you living in? twilight’s just not it on earth-928.

but slowly and surely, there's been mass reports about random strangers being found dead in dark alleyways. according to the police, they're drained of their blood with two puncture marks on their neck. nobody wants to say it, but it's definitely a vampire. but how would a vampire survive in a world like in nueva york?

it's a city of constant progress and although there are lots of nooks and crannies to hide in, the sun here is bright and blazing and it will touch every dark corner of nueva york. who among the population is the culprit?

well, you definitely didn't expect it to be your miguel that's for sure.

you were never supposed to find out about his secret. you didn't mean to wake up, cold and alone in your shared bedroom that night. you didn't mean to walk in on him in the kitchen with his face and clothes all bloodied.

you didn't mean to make a noise, a gasp of surprise, a squeak on the floorboards. you didn't mean to make him hear you. you didn't mean to catch his attention.

the way his head snapped in your direction. eyes wide, not like a deer caught in headlights, but one of an alert predator, his irises as red as the blood that stained his being. the way his body stills and his lips curl into a snarl, revealing a set of canines the same as the puncture marks they've been showing on the news.

you didn't mean to find out, you really didn't, but you've just made yourself his next target.

"i'm sorry querida but i can't let anyone snitch on me. you understand right? this is for your own good too."

#👤 — user : kira #💾 — local disk d : au-ctober #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara angst

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alexiswritingstuff · 10 months

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Saved by the unexpected.

Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)

Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman.

Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.

Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss.

Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!

A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created!

Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading!

It was supposed a morning like any other. Started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon.

You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks.

I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet.

The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, and that meant that you had to take a detour.

It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments.

So, the decision to choose it was simple.

You took of down the pathway, that was slowly becoming overgrown, between two very large buildings which almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area.

The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of ability to get them repaired, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things, parts even looking like they were about to crack and crumble.

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings as the further you walked down the path, the further you got a way from the main street. For the occasional tourist, or people who had a stuffed schedule, they wouldn’t know what was down here. Which usually meant that they wouldn’t even try to find out.

And soon, it took its toll. Most, if not all, had been abandoned unless someone was able to turn something into an apartment of some kind.

You moved under the overhang section created by a walkway that connected the two opposing buildings, and honestly it sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width. But eventually, you arrived back in the open and by god the area was massive.

To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park.

The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings.

But now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be.

In the furthest corner of the parking lot was this very specific looking handful of cars. A sight that should have been acknowledge as the first sign. Your first warning.

It was too late.

All of a sudden, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear. It was violent through the air, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your right.

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat. I mean, the building was old. It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Or even someone trying to fix up the building?

And all of those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... They were just the wrong ones.

Something you realised the moment the sound appeared once again.

Whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed the ability to hear in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds was this sort of clinking like something had fallen to the floor.

And though it was a very muffled detail that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn.

“Oh, shit.”

Within the same moment that you made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed around for ages.

There was chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skid against the concrete as they moved. It was as if you just stumbled upon a damn army.

You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for people that might decide to come your way.

You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair.

Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible.

It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough so that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet.

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off of yourself one arm at a time.

Soon the bag was placed in front of you, your fingers immediately unzipping it, before you began to search through. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had just gone shopping.

I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight.

You moved onto the pockets on either side of the bag when the main compartment made too much noise. It wasn’t like it was going to do any justice anyway because it was all just a bunch of food, a carton of juice and other little things for your trailer.

This wasn’t a planned situation.

When you woke up this morning and picked up your bag to go grocery shopping, you weren’t exactly imagining that you would need to bring something to fight with.

A huff of air passed through your lips while your fingers began searching through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some sweet or chewing gum.

So, it was on to the next.

This time to do the same routine was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. You were trying to be more careful when you started to comb through the compartment, even if you had to move a bit faster to properly squeeze around the lack of space.

And then, finally, you felt something.

In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only be needed to threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out.

But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Right as the item had been tugged vertically, making it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.

Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening...

Half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed.

It started to tip out of the pocket.

A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you.

And that apparently wasn’t all.

In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll.

You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it.

The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see.

Eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point I don’t think it really mattered. The damage was still done.

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding far away, as the confusion dispersed the men on the other side of the wall. Murmurs were passing back and forth.

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?”

Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it.

“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...

But a pair of footsteps still remained.

Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor.

Especially when they started getting louder.

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items.

Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it.

Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path beneath on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into your unstretched leg until it was folded under you.

By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppress the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg to stretch behind you, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so.

And then the timer went off.

You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to ready to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.

But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

The movement was caught from the corner of your eye.

You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared round the corner of the wall, slow and intense.

He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun.

Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, with his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment.

At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and finally run away or stay frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it.

Either way, it was a kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.

The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink once.

You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet.

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. “Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.”

“Anything you want.”

It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger.

You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns.

And then a shot rung out.

It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area, pinging within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...

You could still move?

Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see on your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself.

However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation.

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, but then you finally looked away. Your gaze rose.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees.

His hands moved around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab apart of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. And then another shot fired again.

Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from.

However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain. Your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t ready for.

It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled.

Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by hundreds of thousands of fire hands over and over again.

Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you in fact had gotten shot. “Oh...”

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.

By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.

His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy.

They weren’t from the same group.

The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see.

And then he stilled.

You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.

Within about a millisecond the man had the gun back in both of his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached at all of your muscles.

The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout.

And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate.

For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path afterwards.

Your skin felt hot all over your body, but it also felt cold at the same time.

You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up, go home, curl up in bed and forget this ever happened. But the ability to budge any limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up in the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!”

Right before you gave into that nagging want to sleep, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that had a sound gurgling out of your mouth.

“Kid!”

~~~

It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came.

The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between.

Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made.

It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity.

Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.

There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat.

You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.

If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind.

There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.

Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.

The place was massive.

This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath.

“Hey.”

In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface.

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again.

And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus.

There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.

“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft.

He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”

“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.”

Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady.

Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest.

Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.

Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through.

The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away.

Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.

So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in.

You almost jumped out of your skin.

There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest.

It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?

His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly.

And then you looked at him.

In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting.

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his.

The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears.

In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet.

Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet.

It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.

The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.

He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.”

Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.

You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.

And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in.

Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy.

The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut.

Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier.

He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7.

And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?

Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily.

There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone.

Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind.

You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting.

But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.

So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen.

“Hey, kid.”

The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?”

With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?

“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention.

Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness.

The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”

Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible.

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.

“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”

You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again.

I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.

It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items.

You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors.

But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point.

Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out.

Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.

Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?

How could he even notice it that quick?

Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.

“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”

“That’s all.”

From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule.

It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer.

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds.

At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity?

Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.

Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary.

People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?

Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.

You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.

This guys wasn’t strange.

I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.

But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them.

After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.

You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head.

The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.

“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”

“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”

“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.”

You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm.

But then that name cycled through your head once more.

Frank... Castle.

Frank Castle.

It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.

Holy shit.

He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.

Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.

I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise.

So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece.

Frank Castle was alive.

Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention.

Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information.

Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once.

But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you.

Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?

Who were those other guys?

Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.

You were right. Frank Castle wasn’t the bad guy.

Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--

Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.

It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now.

Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”

He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”

He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.

You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come.

By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison.

“Deep breath.”

The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.

It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands.

It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless.

David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word.

All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late.

Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”

It was like a ripping of a band aid.

At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours.

The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.

The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.

And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment.

It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it.

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”

You were.

Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.

However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.

You looked back at David.

It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”

There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.

Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind.

The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured.

The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him.

Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?”

“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”

Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point.

“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”

He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.

Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen.

This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.”

His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.

Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.

He didn’t say no.

The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck.

You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich.

Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side?

It started to rip.

“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all.

In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.

And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows.

He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.

When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him.

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response.

Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.”

Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.

The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had.

And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”

“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.

“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients.

You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.”

“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a-- a sandwich shop--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”

Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together.

You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David.

Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth.

And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”

Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames.

Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”

You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body.

Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.

And then it made you think.

Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up.

If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already.

But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds.

A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again.

His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging.

Thus, you swallowed once again.

“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.

But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”

Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.

Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”

Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.

He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?

“Y/n likes it.”

#frank castle #the punisher #teen!reader #mcu #mcu x teen!reader #marvel x teen!reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x gender neutral reader #david lieberman #micro

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pythagoras180 · 2 months

Text

Why I Hate Adrien

So a few people have asked me why I hate Adrien so much. I've given it some thought, and I've realized that my hatred comes from 3 sources:

1. Adrien is a passive, useless character and a waste of screentime.

Adrien is a very passive character. He doesn't really have goals that he works towards outside of romance. He doesn't feel like a real person with a real life. He's just an object for the actual main characters to fight over. And to be clear, not every character needs to be active or well developed, but thei screentime should correspond to this. Adrien takes up a massive amount of screentime in the show. And since he ended up being worthless, I feel like he personally wasted my time by appearing so much. His screentime could have instead been used to develop the other characters.

2. Adrien is a creator's pet.

While Adrien doesn't really do anything in the show, I think I still may have felt bad for the character if I felt like this was because the writers didn't like him or something. Thing is, Adrien is the complete opposite, as the writers are clearly biases *for* him at every turn. He's almost always portrayed as right, even in situations where he clearly isn't. "Chameleon" clearly portrayed his "advice" about Lila as good, even though anyone with basic respect for their peers wouldn't be okay with letting them be lied to. There's episodes like "Kuro Neko", where Adrien is very clearly in the wrong amd being unreasonable, yet he's still clearly framed like we're supposed to feel bad for him. Part of the reason he has so much screentime is because the writers love to insert him in every situation they can. Even his status as a passive character can be considered as the writers favoring him. They think he shouldn't have to do anything because he's such a precious boy, so everyone should just do everything for him. I'm not inclined to like a character that I feel is getting special treatment just because of who they are.

3. Adrien does horrible things.

Those last 2 points definitely provide potential for me to dislike a character, but I don't think it's possible for me to actually do so if that character hasn't done anything wrong. Well, despite what the writers want you to believe, Adrien has absolutely done a lot of horrendous things. There's the fact that he continued being friends with Chloé despite her remorseless bullying of Adrien's "friends". He keeps trying to date Ladybug despite her repeatedly rejecting him, to the point where it's straight up harassment. This culminates in "Kuro Neko", where he quits his job of protecting the city because he keeps getting rejected (again, this is portrayed as symptomatic). Like I mentioned before, he tells Marinette to let Lila continue lying to everyone else. And why does he do this? I honestly don't know, and neither does anybody else. There's no rationalization for this moment. But the point is, Adrien put Lila above everyone else for some reason. He also emotionally cheated on Kagami, hurt her feelings, and barely cared afterward. He didn't have to do anything to make up with her, that just worked out on its own. He tried to Cataclysm multiple people despite knowing that it can be fatal, and the only time he displays real remorse over it is when Monarch is on the receiving end. Oh, but he only feels bad for like a minute, then he's fine (I believe that that was just to make Ladybug's exposition about not being able to fix it fee more natural, he wouldn't have shown any remorse if that wasn't necessary). Oh, and then there's that one moment in "Passion" where he pretends not to know what the consequences of making a wish is and tried to convince Ladybug to let him make one. If she said yes, he would have sacrificed somebody else to heal Nathalie. The show has made it clear that this is morally wrong. To me, this is the moment where Adrien became irredeemable. Also, in the Paris Special we find out that Adrien became a mass murdering supervillain in an alternate universe because he's sad that his mom died. He didn't have any grander plan, not scheme to bring her back like Gabriel did. Nope, he just killed people because he was sad, that's how they presented it. I know that this is technically a different person, but the alternate characters from tbe special are meant to be pretty close to the originals, just with different circumstances. So I think this shows who Adrien really is deep down. So yeah, I think Adrien is one of the most despicable "good guy" characters ever.

So that's the reason I hate Adrien, in 3 parts. I wouldn't hate him nearly as much if it wasn't for all 3 components. Kind of a perfect storm really, and I don't think I'll ever hate another character this much, for this reason.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #adrien salt #ml salt #ml writers salt

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dc-polls · 5 months

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"That Really Happened?!" DC Comics Tournament Entry #5

Superman's Sentient Excised Tumor with Daddy Issues

[ID: A comic image of Kancer, a giant inhuman monster looking creature with a long head like the alien queen, wrapping his tail around Superman's torso. He has many green spikes that resemble kryptonite crystals coming out of his back and tail, and he has a lot of green dots on his body that are either eyes or glowing orbs. Superman shoots him with laser vision. /END ID]

What Happened?

A villain (Pokolistan Zod) enacted a complicated scheme to give superman a tumor. He had a tumor, and was almost dying until Superfam excised it from him. However, Zod took the tumor and used science to turn it into a sentient creature called Kancer, who then started mass murdering people to get Superman's attention. He calls Superman "Father" all the time and feels close to him because he came from him literally (aside: We also see the villain literally looking at Kancer's growth tank and saying "congratulations, Superman, we're fathers..." Everyone says that Kon El with his retconned story is Lex and Superman's canonical baby but they ignore Superman and Pokolistan Zod's first canonical baby???) Anyway. Kancer offers to become Superman's pet (?) and stop killing people if Superman kills Krypto, his dog, to give him a space (and prove he's important). Kancer at some point reveals he knows Superman is Clark Kent, due to having been literally growing inside him, and is debating telling Zod his secret identity and will if he is rejected. Clark angsts about this, and Kancer goes to Pokolistan where aside: Guy Gardner has been repeatedly killed and mutated until he's lord of hell due to crossover events from OWAW. Guy tells superman he has to take his place in Hell or something bad will happen. Superman doesn't want anyone to die or go to hell but agrees because reasons. Krypto tries to kill Kancer and Superman stops him (Krypto) which inadvertently convinces Kancer Superman loves him for real and he takes GUy's place in Hell to save Superman. Guy is non-plussed about this and says he was going to hell anyway because he killed so many people but also he was a literal baby how was he supposed to know murder was wrong? Anyway, I don't think anyone had "Superman's sentient tumor with daddy issues becomes a serial killer and sacrifices himself in Hell" on their DC bingo card. Also this was all main canon and not an AU, with Clark Kent Superman.

Tournament polls will be posted after all entries are up. As always you can find all posts related to the tournament using #dc-polls-trh

#dc-polls-trh #dc comics #clark kent #superman #pokolistan zod #kancer

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klbwriting · 2 months

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Broken Prism

Chapter 23

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: not much, some violence

Summary: a question is asked and there's a party, but it's not all happiness and sunshine

Notes: this fic had a heavy couple chapters, so this is a little lighter and sweet, but of course it won't stay that way, they are still in Gotham and mass murders are on the loose

Jason got back to find YN asleep already, looking exhausted. She had her clothes on from the day, over the blankets like she had just laid down, thinking she would be back up again. He sighed, not able to get the look in her eyes when he snapped at her out of his head. He had scared her; how could he do that to her? The one person who was always on his side, always supporting him no matter how much of an ass he was? Did the good in him really outweigh all the bad? He sighed, moving to shower and change into fresh clothes, going to grab a book from his shelf when he noticed the desk. He froze. She had found the note and the ring. He swallowed hard as he walked over to check on them. His scratched-out lines, followed by the only one that seemed right, and then…YES. She had written yes on the note. His eyes found her, still sleeping and he wanted to let her rest, but he couldn’t, not when he had to be sure. He moved to the bed, sitting next to her and gently shaking her shoulder. She stirred and looked around, still groggy, but woke up when she saw him.

“Jason!” she said, arms going around him. He held her close, once again drinking in the calm she brought him. When she pulled back she didn’t completely let him go, like she was worried if she did he would run away again. He had to stop that, stop pushing her away, running from her when she refused to leave him be. He held up the note and she looked from it to his eyes.

“Why would you say yes to me?” he asked softly. She touched his face, tracing the scar on his cheek he’d gotten when Penguin had captured him. All those scars, memories of pain that her touch seemed to soothe away. Even now, the murders, the guilt he felt, the fact that multiple people were going around Gotham trying to break his family apart, and she was still here, unmoving in her love for him. It honestly humbled him more than even being dead had.

“Because I know that even if you weren’t my soulmate you would still be my soulmate,” she said. “I fit with you, and you fit with me. I’m willing and want to choose to love you everyday for the rest of my life.” He swallowed hard, feeling emotions he hated to feel coming to the surface. He felt loved, really loved. She chose him, when she could literally have anyone else, someone safer, someone who wouldn’t scare her or worry her constantly and she chose him.

“I scared you earlier…” he whispered. “Why love someone who scares you?” She kissed him softly.

“I wasn’t scared of you Jason, I’ve never been afraid of you, but I was afraid for you,” she said. “Afraid of you running, of your self-loathing getting the best of you.” He looked at the ring in his hand and then at her, holding it up slowly. YN nodded, smile growing on her face. He slid the ruby on and kissed her hand before kissing her again. She kissed him back, gripping him close and pulling him to lay over her. “Should we go tell everyone?” she asked. Jason shook his head.

“Later,” he said, before kissing her again.

You woke up the next morning, still naked and next to your fiancé. O you were never going to get over that. Jason wanted to marry you. You knew it was common for soulmates to get married, but this just felt special, like it wasn’t supposed to actually happen. Yet the ring was on your finger and his arm was around your waist, holding you against him like he protected you even in his sleep, which honestly, he probably could. You pulled off his arm slowly and went to shower and get dressed. You hadn’t really eaten the day before, too worried about where he had been, and headed quietly downstairs. It was still early but somehow Alfred was still awake and had the buffet of breakfast foods ready in the dining room. He himself was eating, reading the paper. He jumped up when you came in and you waved him away, moving to grab a plate but he caught your hand.

“I see Master Jason has finally popped the question,” he said, admiring the ring. You smiled wide and nodded. “Did he tell you how long ago he bought that ring?”

“No, we didn’t really talk a lot after,” you said, before blushing and turning away to get food. He cleared his throat and waited until you were seated with your breakfast.

“He came home one morning, I believe it was before you had moved in here, he came to me and asked if I could size a ring based off a picture, and he showed me a picture, I believe you were holding a book, and I’m glad to see it worked,” he said. You thought back and realized that when he came to your apartment, when you fell asleep reading. Before you kissed, before you were even really together. He had been planning this since then and it made your heart warm. You looked at the ring again and smiled bigger.

Jason wandered into the room, looking between you and Alfred before grabbing himself some breakfast and sitting next to you. He kissed you and finally noticed Alfred staring at him.

“What?” he asked. Alfred held up his coffee cup but didn’t say anything, going back to the paper. You looked at Jason, probably with the biggest heart eyes imaginable because soon he was kissing you again just in time for Tim and Dick to wander in with Bruce close behind them.

“Ugh…we eat here could you not?” Tim mocked, getting himself breakfast. You laughed and started eating yourself. Jason ate, one hand holding your hand, gently running a finger over the ring on your finger. It took Bruce all of two seconds to notice.

“Guess we’re throwing another party,” he said. Jason stared for a second. “Can’t have a Wayne get engaged and not have a party.” Tim and Dick froze, looking to each other as if trying to figure out who was engaged before looking at Jason’s face, then his hand, then the ring.

“Holy shit,” Dick said. “He dies and still gets married first, how is that possible?” he said. Jason shrugged.

“Maybe stop dragging your feet with Barbara,” he said, eating more eggs. You laughed and then laughed harder when Dick and Tim both hugged you, forcing you to stand so they could hug you tighter.

“He is so much less annoying when you’re around, now you can’t leave,” Tim said. You shook your head and laughed as Jason finally pried his brothers off you and instead hugged you himself. “Although now this’ll get annoying.”

Another Wayne party was not what Jason wanted but since it was his engagement Bruce had let him decide who could actually come so he made sure it was small, just some friends of Bruce’s and YN’s friends, less than twenty people which was tiny in the Wayne family. He did not however, let Jason dress in jeans like he wanted, mostly because YN had picked out an absolutely stunning dress and he knew Jason would feel terrible not to be dressed up right beside her. He was right. When she came out into the hall in that red dress Jason nearly took her back into the bedroom again, but Bruce said he had an engagement present but only if Jason wasn’t late this time. And YN wanted that gift, what would Batman give as an engagement gift? Bullet proof plates? Cutlery that was also a bomb? So, Jason took her arm, kissed her softly and headed downstairs.

The evening was winding down, most of Bruce’s friends had left while the younger crowd was still in the theater room doing karaoke, trying to convince Alfred to just do one song. Jason was in the doorway, thoroughly not interested in singing, but enjoying watching YN laugh with the others. He heard a throat clear behind him and looked back to Bruce.

“You were on time and even were a good host tonight,” he said, slightly surprised.

“YN really wants that gift, she thinks it's an EMP disguised as a handbag,” Jason said, sipping his drink as Dick started singing Taylor Swift off key, much to the delight of Barbara and to Tim’s horror. Bruce chuckled a little and caught YN’s eye, waving for her to join them. She did, hugging Jason around his waist. He kissed her head as Bruce handed him an envelope. He frowned, opening it to a picture of a nice cabin in a forest.

“This is a cabin in Canada, and I have bought it for you,” he said. Jason looked confused. “I’m not exiling you, don’t worry, but whenever we catch whoever is committing these murders you are required to take a vacation, completely unplugged in this cabin for at least six months, plan the wedding, hell, get married there in the middle of nowhere, just be together and be happy without worrying about all this shit here.” Jason couldn’t believe it. He looked at Bruce.

“Dad?” he said. He couldn’t remember the last time he called Bruce dad, but he didn’t know what else to say. Bruce just smiled and hugged his son and then his future daughter, who was definitely crying.

“Thank you,” she said. Jason looked down at her, then back at the cabin. Just them, time for Jason to heal from what he knew was going to be a haunting experience when they did piece more of this mystery together. Bruce waved them away, getting a little misty himself. They went back to the party and were probably more loving than before, being just disgustingly cute for the rest of the evening.

Barbara Gordon had no fear of Gotham at night. Dick was always around to protect her, but she of course, could protect herself too. Just because she wasn’t able to be Batgirl anymore didn’t mean Oracle wasn’t a bad ass. Dick dropped her off at her apartment before heading out on patrol and she entered her first-floor space knowing something was off. She activated her chair, pulling the circuit crown on her head, and pulled out the batons she kept in the arms of the chair. Then she told the chair to move, and it did, searching the place. She didn’t find anything and almost calmed when she heard it, a quick breath behind her. She narrowed her eyes and turned, narrowly avoiding the syringe the person wielded. She stared at the creature before her, a man with a pig’s mask, heavily damaged, eyes of red. He looked like Professor Pyg, but that was impossible, Pyg had died in an attempted escape from Arkham years ago. A copycat then. He man dove at her again and she knocked the syringe away with one baton, the other coming right after to hit the attacker in the head. He was unperturbed and tried again, this grabbing her wheelchair. That was a mistake. The electric shock that her chair emitted when activated was strong enough to take down Killer Croc, even if this person ignored the pain of the baton, his body wouldn’t be able to handle the volts. He fell to the ground, and she hit the panic button to call reinforcements. Then she saw the bag on the floor nearby, blood seeping from it.

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #brokenprism

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danggirlronpa · 4 days

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If it's not too much trouble, do you have headcanons for Kotoko/Monaka? I like to imagine post-canon they work out their issues with each other and get to a much healthier place, like, when they're teenagers. I related a lot to Kokoto's toxic relationship with Monaka, I definitely had relationships like that when I was in elementary school too. It's kind of nice to imagine a world where - whether romantically or platonically - they work out their issues and work out, even if that might not be exactly realistic, aha...

Oh MAN do I have post-canon Warriors of Hope headcanons. I really do love imagining these kids and the lives they lead when they come of age.

I try not to use read mores, but this one got way longer than the usual headcanon posts, and it very much is less "Kotoko/Monaca headcanons" and more "elaborate set-up for how Kotoko and Monaca feel about their crimes as teenagers." So more under the cut I guess!

Firstly, some setup. I love adoptive family relationships, and especially mother/child adoptive relationships. So of course I love daydreaming about Aoi "Bleeding Heart" Asahina adopting Kotoko, and it becoming a Kyoko (or Miaya!)/Hina-parenting-Kotoko, friends-to-moms slowburn. SOMEONE'S adopting these children, and it's not Komaru "I Just Spent A Full Year In Solitary Isolation (:" or the "We Taser Ourselves To Decide Whether The Serial Killer Fronts (:" Fukawas. Hina's upbeat, she keeps it light, and unlike Makoto "Spotless" Naegi, she understands the guilt of attempting/committing mass murder. Kyoko isn't quite any of that but deep in my heart. Through The Power Of Love And Elaborate Metaphors About Her Relationship To Her Father

And I mean. I'm going to be honest. Monaca's, like, 10. She spends three days in space before she goes 1. Wow this sucks 2. I did not in fact prepare enough materials to live like this indefinitely. I'm like 10. I packed enough for about 13 hours and thought I was good Forever. I need more marshmallows.

So it takes Monaca all of half a week to admit her failures and crash land somewhere on earth. The island with the Remnants? Misaki and Takumi? In-universe versions of the V3 students as adults? Personally I'm a fan of Yasuhiro and Kanon adopting her in the world's absolute weirdest fantasy. What matters is SOMEONE finds her. And we get Mod Loves Sappy Adoptive Relationships V2: Now With The Green One.

Because listen. Listen. These are kids. They have committed heinous, unforgivable crimes of extreme ethical concern, and they are also ten years old. Their only frame of ethical reference is a manipulator and abuser so good at what she does that she ended the world. People generally remember this with the other Warriors, but they almost always set it aside for Monaca, so I want to be clear: Monaca Towa is redeemable. Because she was 10 years old, and the moment she was out from under the thumb of the people who taught her how to do these cruel and unusual things, her first plan was Run Away To Space To Escape The Things That Have Happened Here. They're children.

THAT MEANS A LOT OF GUILT. NO ONE HAS EVER NOT BECOME A PUDDLE OF REGRET ABOUT SOMETHING THEY DID IN MIDDLE SCHOOL.

In general, I actually think Kotoko struggles with guilt the least amongst the Warriors. Firstly, I think having a parent who understands and can help her come to grips with what she's done from a very personal place really helps her work through it. But I also think Kotoko is low-empathy in general. I think eventually, she comes to understand intellectually what she's done wrong, but I don't think she ever struggles with the idea that she shouldn't have done it. I think she would be very practical about the circumstances that she was in, and in her mind, well. What else was she supposed to do? She'd been abused all her life. She was up against Junko Enoshima. Obviously what she did was wrong, but any other kid in that situation would've, in Kotoko's mind, done the same.

On the other hand, I believe Monaca would get hit with guilt very intensely once she finally processed everything she'd been through at high-school age, but that she would absolutely keep that under wraps and act as though it was meaningless to her.

Monaca is, in my opinion, a compulsive liar. You can see that in a lot of canonical ways, but I choose to extend it a bit to headcanons - it's not that she Doesn't need a wheelchair, it's that she has days when she needs it and days when she doesn't, and pretending she never needed it at all gives people a huge shock. She didn't plan to not kill herself with the rest of the Warriors as a prank; she really planned to do it, but people look at her when she says that. It's a defensive mechanism, and a method of feeling in control. At least I can choose for them to hate me by lying and being terrible, instead of being hated when I haven't done anything.

So I think, when she is finally faced with the enormity of what she has done, Monaca does what her first instinct is always to do: runs away from it and lies herself into culpability. Of course I killed all those terrible adults, and now that I'm almost their age, I'll just die instead of becoming one of them! That sort of thing. I think she traps herself into her own persona, no matter how hard she tries to improve, because Monaca is a child who internalizes until she breaks.

So when Kotoko and Monaca meet coincidentally at high-school age. Ho boy. Kotoko who still sort-of blames Monaca who blames herself, and neither of them completely aware of how to comfort a person or how to hate a person in a way that isn't lethal...oh the GROWTH. The Strawberry Wine by Deana Carter of it all

#asks #anon #im sorry this wasnt about their relationship it got too long T_T #you can send me another ask if you want me to talk more about their actual interactions as teens! i just started talking about the backstor #and then all of a sudden it was. So Much Text #monakoto #headcanons #monaca towa #kotoko utsugi #udg #dr3 #talk to the mod

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journey-to-the-attic · 1 month

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3rd anni req 4: [RPG AU] solomon / past life

ao3 link

note: i really enjoyed writing this one! i've been meaning to do more for this au for ages, it's just such a fun concept to work with, but i just never get around to it

brief context if needed: fantasy rpg au setting, solomon is a reincarnation of the evil sorcerer solomon who was trying to evade persecution, and in his new life he is best friends and travelling companions with young hero ik, and here he finds out the truth about himself

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

This place feels more like a mausoleum than a house.

The reports say that the owner died decades ago, and that the house has lain undisturbed ever since - up until recently. That isn’t the story Solomon’s seeing here, though.

It’s dusty, but it doesn’t feel like a place that’s been abandoned for eighty years. Try five, maybe.

He brushes a finger through a thick layer of dust on a shelf. These odd contraptions littered around the place - cogs and glassware with no rhyme or reason - aren’t ancient by any stretch of the imagination. He picks up something that resembles a wind-up toy and turns the key. The wheels still spin smoothly.

Welcome home.

He jumps. “...IK?”

No response. He listens hard - he can hear footsteps coming from upstairs. But that voice came from just behind him - surely she can’t move that quickly?

“That wasn’t funny,” He calls, attempting bravado.

Really? I thought it was hilarious.

He manages not to jump this time. He swings around and presses his back to the wall, hand falling to the knife at his hip.

Hey, there’s no need for that, says the strange voice, amused. I’m a friend.

“A friend,” He repeats warily.

Quite an intimate friend, agrees the voice, and he hears the groan of wood from just around the corner. Come with me. I have something to show you.

Don’t bother, it adds as he makes for the hallway, to call IK down to join him. There’s nothing here worth the little girl’s attention.

“Don’t call her that,” He grunts with a spark of indignation. “And—”

I daresay what you’ll find would only hurt the youngster, adds the voice, and at this he pauses.

“...fine.” His mouth feels dry - he hears the irregular pattern of his own breathing as if from miles away. “What do you want to show me?”

Follow me, croons the voice, and something shimmers at him from around the corner.

Let me show you something remarkable, it tells him. The brightest mind in any generation. The most prolific mass murderer this land has ever seen. There’s plenty to learn.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” He growls. “But I don’t want any part in it.”

And yet he finds himself following the voice anyway.

Aren’t you just a little curious?

Wouldn’t you like to just take a little peek?

So close now. What a shame it would be to miss out.

And what a shame it would be to not know more. How close-minded!

Sharp pain lances through his temples - he stumbles, catching himself on a red velvet curtain, gripping the side of his head with a groan. “What— what are you playing at?!”

Side effects. Don’t mind those.

“I…” He can hear colours, taste sounds - feel as he’s never felt before, like millions of icy needles drawing fire from his skin. “...this…”

Why don’t you take a look behind the curtain? The voice whispers.

His mind feels in free-fall - he shakes his head blindly, but he finds himself reaching forward. He seizes a fistful of cold velvet and pulls.

Everything around him seems to shrink to a point. His own pale face stares back at him through the mirror.

“Is this some sort of joke?” He mutters.

His reflection grins back at him. “Welcome home, Solomon. It took you long enough.”

“What…” He tries to step back, but his feet feel anchored to the ground. “...I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t! Poor, gullible human that you are.” Mirror-Him laughs. “How cute. Did you have fun living with the mundane, at least?”

He tries to find words, but the reflection doesn’t wait for an answer. “I suppose I don’t need you to tell me. I’ll know soon enough. Now, come here. It’ll all make sense in a moment.”

He doesn’t move. His reflection frowns at him.

“Slow on the uptake, aren’t you?” Mirror-Solomon presses a hand against the glass. “It’s me - I’m you. I’m the part of us that had to die so that you could walk free. Me and you - two pieces of a glorious arcane puzzle.”

He feels his own hand moving to meet his reflection, and fights to keep it still. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not—”

“Not a sorcerer?” Mirror-Him sighs. “I’ve got news for you, cupcake. You wouldn’t be able to see me if you did.”

His head thumps. He says again, lost, “I don’t understand.”

His reflection’s expression softens a little. “I told you, didn’t you? We are the brightest mind any generation has ever seen. Before I died, you prised secrets of life straight from time’s mouth. We unlocked it together - in death, you would be reborn.”

“And when we reunite, I will be whole,” He recites, then claps a hand to his mouth. He doesn’t know where the words have resurfaced from.

His reflection grins at him. “Now you’re getting it. Come on, Solomon. Set us free.”

I know you.

I’ve felt the weight of your sins everywhere I’ve gone. Every place you’ve touched, people have died. Every time I bring your face somewhere new, it’s as if the land itself remembers what you’ve done. I hated it.

Now I understand. I feel it now - your hatred. My anger.

IK is upstairs. I can’t let you hurt her.

“Worried, are you?” His reflection leans closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’ve got a secret to tell you. Once you remember everything, you won’t care.”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, he thinks, and the pain in his head suddenly intensifies. It’s all he can do to keep himself from crying out.

“You’ve been waiting for me - you just didn’t know it.” Mirror-Him doesn’t sound surprised by his disobedience. Perhaps that’s the worst part.

A thought, a foreign memory - he’d known this would happen, and that he wouldn’t be able to resist it. He’s a weak-willed mortal, after all.

He moves before he can stop himself. His hand meets the reflection - the cold of the glass cuts into him, and in one silent instant, everything ends. And everything begins.

He feels his legs collapse beneath him - he lands against the wall with a cough, heaving for air as if he hasn’t tasted it in years. Indeed, half his soul has starved in that mirror for the past five years.

Solomon stares down at his hands and sees blood. His fingertips buzz - warm sparks dance across his palms, as if the magic itself rejoices to be reunited with his mortal body. He feels himself smile.

He stands up. His reflection moves with him now. To be honest, part of him had been worried the mirror wouldn’t hold up for long enough - but he hadn’t exactly had time to seek a crystal looking-glass. Oh, that’s new. I remember…

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” He says to himself.

He imagines this is how the man in the desert must feel - who finally finds water after hours in the scorching heat. How clever he is - a lesser being wouldn’t be able to cope with even a fraction of this operation.

His two sets of memories melt into each other easily. Like simply adding water to a jug. And—

“Solomon? I think we should get out of here.”

He whips around, and immediately knows he’s made a mistake. IK blinks at him from the end of the hallway, clearly unnerved by how quickly he reacted.

“...I think we’re dealing with magic scraps here,” She says after a moment, still eyeing him warily. “Some kind of crazy wizard or something. We need to get someone who knows about that kind of thing to look at it.”

“Crazy wizard?” He repeats almost incredulously. He’s blinded fools for lesser insults.

“I’ve never seen some of the stuff upstairs.” She grimaces. “The shadows were all moving - I swear one of them had teeth.”

Her left arm is dangling uselessly at her side, and he suddenly registers the dark red stains on her sleeves. He feels a familiar rush of worry, and hurries forward without thinking.

“You got bitten?” He reaches forward to inspect the wound, then thinks better of touching it just yet. “Are you alright? How do you feel?”

“Just stings like hell. I’ll probably live.” She attempts to make a thumbs up with the injured arm, then sucks in a breath and shakes her head. “...I’ll ask Luke to look at it later. We should really get going - I don’t think it’s safe here.”

He thinks about telling her that this house is under his control - that the shadows she saw were likely the remnants of failed experiments, that they’re some botched form of life that didn’t know how else to play. He thinks about telling her that that bite might well have been venomous, and that only he knows how to prevent the toxins from rotting her arm from the inside out.

He thinks about telling her that it’s all been for nothing - all the times she’s had to defend him from mobs, everyone from royal guards to fruit vendors, who’d seen him for what he was and rightfully spat at his feet. He thinks of telling her that there’s no need to shield him like this as they leave the house.

He thinks about telling that he knows fifty ways to kill her right there without leaving a trace, and hundreds more that would leave some far worse than a corpse.

But he doesn’t. He lets IK take his hand and lead him down the hill.

He can’t seem to smile now. His hands are clean, and yet he tastes iron each time he tries to speak.

What happened? What happened, Solomon? How did your master plan go wrong?

There was one contingency he didn’t plan for. He’d known he wouldn’t have the power to reject his old self - but somehow missed that, equally, he couldn’t simply abandon his new life, either.

Solomon realises now that his plan had been spoiled from the moment IK helped him out of that pit. The sorcerer, in all his wisdom, had failed to consider this - that he could love and be loved in that next life.

It feels as if the earth should swallow him whole, and yet nothing seems to have changed. The local lord greets him cheerfully when he rides past on a hunting expedition. He remembers poisoning that boy’s father.

New knowledge supplanted by the old, and memories from both past and future in tandem. What could he possibly do now?

#3rd anni event #rpg au #obey me #writing #obey me solomon #jtta ik #jtta aus

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