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lorahgames · 2 months

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Collar x Malice: Full Review

Console: Nintendo Switch

Total Play Time: 60 hours

Lorah Game Rating: 9.5/10

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I finally did it; I stuck with one single otome game, and finished it up!

Although CxM is my first blog post, I am not new to otome. I like to think I have a fair bit of experience to chalk up a decent review about these games, so this is my go at it!

SYNOPSIS: Collar x Malice takes place in a quarantined Shinjuku, Japan, where citizens live in fear of Adonis, a criminal organization that believes it will revitalize Japan with its own warped sense of justice and judgement. The story begins when Ichika Hoshino, a rookie cop, is attacked and has a poisonous collar placed around her neck by Adonis, who declare they are testing her as they believe she has potential to be one of their sympathizers. Ichika must now work with a group of ex-cops to discover the truth behind the Adonis crimes and to remove her collar.

TIME TO BEGIN THE REVIEW!

I was absolutely blown away by Collar x Malice. Don't get me wrong, I love all the otome games I play, but this one topped the charts for me. I am very, very particular when it comes to what I like and dislike about otome. I absolutely can't stand when the story is boring, but also don't like when the plot takes away from the romances with the love interests. I think CxM has perfected the balance of story-to-romance. I found myself both wanting to solve the mystery of the game while also loving the time I got to spend with each of the LIs. Of course, some routes I found better than others, but that's to be expected! I genuinely enjoyed each of the LIs and what they had to offer. Usually, there will be a LI or two I'm not too fond of, but let me say, all these boys have replay-ability. I will be revisiting this game again.

My first impressions were so-so; they are almost always completely based off of the LIs' designs (lol, a little bit shallow but what can you do). I definitely had preferences towards Yanagi and Okazaki initially. I was indifferent to Sasazuka, and did not feel like I would enjoy Enomoto and Shiraishi all that much. But let me tell you this.

DON'T JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER. PLS.

Mineo Enomoto

Honestly, I played this man first to get him over with. LOL. I hate to say it now. Enomoto gave off middle school vibes, and it wasn't for me in the beginning. BUT. He really grew on me! Honestly, for being THAT character, you know, the one with no experience with girls, it ended up being super cute. Once you got past the eyepatch thing, he was truly a really good guy and it was adorable to see his relationship develop with Ichika. Definitely not a story heavy chapter, and was a great light introduction to the game, especially with how the game gets darker later on. Enomoto wasn't my favourite, but I still am excited to play his after-story in CxM unlimited.

Takeru Sasazuka

Oh, Sasazuka. Your route was great.

This man was a tsundere if I've ever seen one. He was curt, he was rude, but he was such a good LI. I actually found Sasazuka's backstory to be really good, especially the role it plays in the plot. He had MEGA character development from the beginning of the route to finish. It was lovely to see him fall so hard for Ichika, who he had been calling stupid cat for half the game. Not to mention, Sasazuka's CGs are FINEEEE. I hit that Switch screenshot button a few times. Funny enough, when I went to go play Yanagi's route it didn't register my completion of Sasazuka's, so I actually had to play his route twice. Of course, I sped through most of the dialogue, but I did find myself stopping to replay and read the cute moments between him and Ichika. I enjoyed them as much as I did the first time. I really enjoyed both LI and plot in this route.

Kageyuki Shiraishi

I played Shiraishi's route fourth. At this point, I had a good gist of how the story was flowing, but I did NOT expect the plot twist of Shiraishi's route! I was hesistant to even play Shiraishi at all, because long-haired men (not to mention the cat aesthetic he has going on) aren't usually my thing. Personally, I loved the route's plot more than I did the romance with Shiraishi. This isn't me saying he was bad, but his story was so well done, it's hard to not like it more. I found with Shiraishi, he was slightly overhyped in online reviews. A lot of people say Shiraishi is their favourite from the game, but he wasn't mine. I think I went in with my expectations a bit too high, especially after how much I loved Okazaki's route. At the climax of his route, I felt things were a bit rushed because I was confused as to what was going on, but it was such a minor confusion that I figured things out pretty quickly. Again, I'm really looking forward to playing his after-story!

Aigi Yanagi

It took forever to finally get to Yanagi's route. Honestly at the point I finally got to play his route, he has been a side character for so long that it was hard not to see him that way (LOL, sorry Yanagi!). One thing I was surprised about was that Yanagi's route really put romance on the back-burner and put the story in the front. I get it, since Yanagi's route was the big reveal and finale, and honestly it really worked for the overall story. It's not like Yanagi's route wasn't romantic, but it was a little hard to focus on him when you could feel the Adonis leader's identity reveal just around the corner. Yanagi also had the longest route, with seven chapters instead of six. I would say he got some of the best CGs of the game, probably since he is the poster child of CxM. The whole Yanagi backstory is absolutely fantastic as well, and they did a really good job diving deep into his character.

Kei Okazaki

Of course, I had to leave Okazaki for last. Okazaki is by far my favourite Collar x Malice LI and may quite literally be overtaking Toma (Amnesia) for the top spot of them all. I knew I would love Okazaki from the start and I was right. I love his character design, the voice acting, aloof personality, route story, EVERYTHING. While I would not classify Okazaki as any sort of yandere (my favourite trope), he checked all the boxes I usually look for in my LIs (self-sacrificing, obsessive, etc). His entire life outlook changed after getting close with Ichika, and was it ever emotional seeing him go though all that inner turmoil. Let me tell you, this man had me RUNNING to Collar x Malice Unlimited for more. The amount of times he popped up in Yanagi's route made me want to just go replay his route again. Not to mention, his tragic love ending has to be the best in the game. I accidently got it by misclicking, but holy crap?? The CG was crazy! And once you get the tragic love end, you get the bonus CG, which also happens to be my favourite from the game. Anyway, this game has left me an Okazaki fan through-and-through, as well as clogged up my Switch library with screenshots of his face. I could say A LOT more, but trying to leave this spoiler-free for friends who potentially want to play.

Kei best boy <3

Do I recommend Collar x Malice? Of course!

The game really hits both the story component and romance component, and I definitely got my money's worth with over 60 hours of gameplay. Of course, there are some minor bugs (looking at you, Sasasuka route) where dialogue seems to be misplaced or the self-inserted name still comes up as Ichika, but believe me, this was so minor and infrequent that I don't think it affected the overall quality of the game.

I am actually sad that the game is over! I'm scared to finish Unlimited too, because what will I do then?!

Overall, Collar x Malice definitely left a lasting impression on me and has become one of my favourite otome. I had a blast playing it and will definitely be back to do it all again. I hope I can break free of my habit of comparing every LI to my favourite, because Okazaki will be hard as hell to beat.

Thanks for reading my review !

LORAH

#otome #otome game #collar x malice #kei okazaki #aigi yanagi #takeru sasazuka #shiraishi kageyuki #mineo enomoto #otomate #idea factory

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red-riding-wood · 1 year

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OC: Charlotte Griffin

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Summary: Charlotte Griffin, on a quest to emerge from her family's dark shadow, becomes a spy in a gang war that puts her loyalties and desires into question as she grows closer to the man who is meant to be her enemy.

WARNINGS for whole story: eventual explicit sexual content and references, explicit violence and gore, mentions of physical abuse, language, ethnic slurs (mainly because of Alfie)

Watching Luca Changretta walk from Thomas Shelby’s office, a gloating smirk pulling devilishly at his lip, was not a sight I had expected to see that afternoon.

His eyes scored deep past my flesh, impaling my soul for the brief moment that he passed me, his shoulder brushing mine and raising goosebumps along my arm despite the layers of fabric between us.

I kept walking, desperate not to let the falter in my stride become apparent. The door to Thomas’ office was left ajar; his visitor had unsurprisingly not had the courtesy to shut it, and though I knew I should have knocked, my fingers curled around the frame with curiosity and slid it open to reveal a disgruntled Thomas standing at the end of the long table.

“I didn’t know Mr. Changretta was paying a visit,” I said. “Are you all right, Mr. Shelby?”

There was something in Thomas’ eyes. Something that indicated that whatever had happened between Luca and him had left something in him shaken to his core – shaken, perhaps, to his very soul. Luca had a way, as I had learned, with rendering even the most guarded souls quiet.

Twin blues swept to the table, and I followed his gaze to the six bullets placed across it, one laying on its side and at the other end of the table.

Though I expected him to demand that I leave, or rebuke me for not knocking first, Thomas said, “I’m all right. Thank you, Charlotte.” He smoothed out his waistcoat and cleared his throat, before saying, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I have news from Luca,” I said, and stepped inside the room. The door shut behind me with a heavy click, and I watched as Thomas began to collect the bullets from the table and load them into his revolver. His fingers trembled as he lifted the one that had rolled across the table.

I wanted to ask about the meeting, what Luca had said to him, why ammunition was strewn about. But the parting of Thomas’ lips to dispel his fevered breaths and that look in his eye – the look of a prey animal in the sights of a predator – cautioned me otherwise. I was scared more by a cornered animal than I was by the supposed Devil that people spoke of.

“He wants to test me,” I continued. “Wants to see if this isn’t all some trick. So he proposed that – “

“How about some gin, eh?” Thomas interrupted, blue eyes darting up to meet mine as he stuffed his revolver back into the holster slung around his shoulder.

I blinked at him. “Gin? No thank you, Mr. Shelby. But if this isn’t a good time, I can come back – “

“No. Stay.” Thomas waved me forward, and I furrowed my brow at him. “I’m to open a gin distillery and I need to ensure that I perfect my recipe. I need opinions. We can discuss this business with Changretta later.”

I resisted the overwhelming urge to cock my head at him, to take in every twitch of muscle and every detail I could. I wanted to read him, but there was something about Thomas that seemed damn near impossible to read, as if he had been trained specifically to hide from the prying gazes of people like me.

But what I could gather was that, in this moment, he wanted nothing to do with the Changrettas or the vendetta. He had the look of a man who bore too much on his shoulders, who was cracking if only slightly at his seams. And I wasn’t about to test him on his wishes, even if I found the matter to be pressing. Thomas, unlike Luca, did not seem to be a man who wished to play games.

“All right,” I said in agreement, and as I opened the door to the hallway, I couldn’t help but sweep my gaze across it, half-expecting to see a felt hat and a long, black coat. Luca was like a ghost; the only trace he’d left were the goosebumps still raised along my arm. It was enough to make me wonder, for one dreadful moment, if I was imagining things.

“How’s business, other than the gin?” I asked as Thomas led me down the hall.

“Not bad,” he said, mumbling around a cigarette as he held a lighter to it. “Though there might be unrest in some of the factories. But I intend to speak to Arthur on handling it.”

“Handling it?” I said. “Your brother does seem to have a knack for violence. More so than the average man in this life.”

The night I’d been tested by the Blinders and met Arthur, I’d been whisked into the nearest pub and had witnessed the eldest Shelby brother nearly bludgeon a man to death for looking at him the wrong way.

“My brother can work up a bit of a temper,” Thomas said.

I cocked a brow at him, and said with a bit of wry smile, “He threw a bottle at my head.”

Thomas chuckled, and blew a gout of smoke into the bitter air of winter as we stepped onto the street. “He has a good heart. A better heart than most men in this life.”

I pondered this for a moment or two, thought of the smile that had stretched across Arthur’s face when he’d grabbed me by the shoulders and welcomed me into the gang. He’d been loud, garish, reckless. But he didn’t scare me as much as a man I knew who enacted his violence behind closed doors, who tried to convince you he was something he wasn’t with honeyed words and pretty gifts. And I wondered if, despite how often I thought I knew someone from the way they tilted their head when they spoke or where their eyes landed, if I could really ever read their heart.

“And what do you think of my heart, Mr. Shelby?” I asked.

Thomas’ gaze remained fixed ahead, on the car that we were approaching. “Polly’s the one you ought to go to for that. She’ll have you all figured just by reading your tea leaves.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the superstitious sort.”

“It’s the Gypsy blood.”

My father had told me to never trust a Gypsy. I knew of the Shelbys’ roots, knew that both Polly and Thomas shared Gypsy blood. But it was easy to forget sometimes that they did, for they were a far cry from living in caravans.

Knowing this, I cast him another glance and countered, “So why can’t you tell me, then?”

He said nothing; I watched as he crushed his cigarette beneath his boot and opened the door to his car for me. Piercing blue eyes seemed to stare straight through me, as if I were hollow, as if I possessed no heart to read.

But I didn’t press him on his silence, only watched as his gaze followed me until the door was shut.

---

“It’s too bitter,” I said, and passed the glass of gin back to him.

He took it, brow furrowing slightly. He “hmmed” as if he found my statement intriguing, and the icy gaze of death itself glinted slightly with life as it bore into mine. Finally, he shook his head and set the glass on the cedar wood table beside us.

“I’ve had people say it’s too sweet,” he said, and took a seat at the table. He gestured for me to sit across from him. “So.” His tonality shifted as I took my seat, and he said, “Tell me about the news from Changretta.”

“He wants to test my legitimacy and my loyalty. He said to tell you that he would be at Frederick Square this Wednesday, at eighteen-hundred hours. Whether or not Luca will actually be there, I don’t know – I doubt it. But he wants Arthur. And if Arthur doesn’t show, well, I suppose I fail the test.”

I suppose Luca Changretta kills me.

Thomas nodded, leaning back in his chair as he seemed to take all of this in. But it didn’t take him long, for he said rather promptly, “Then Arthur will be there.”

“He intends to kill him,” I said.

“Most certainly.”

“Are you certain you want to walk into this?”

“Let me worry about that, Charlotte.” He was always dismissive. “Have you learned anything else?”

My eyes fell to the table, not in dishonesty but in an almost shame. Luca was still an enigma to me, a serpent who refused to shed his skin. I had learned little of him and little of his men and this war, had only met with him once more since the incident with my father. I supposed that would have been my opportunity to learn more about him, though I had grown frustrated with his refusal to order the investigation in America and had cut the meeting short. I had been blinded by my heartache.

“He doesn’t trust me,” I said. “Yet.” I allowed my lungs to release a small sigh, and I leaned back in my own chair, and said, “Perhaps this assignment will change that.”

“There’s still time,” Thomas said. “Trust is not easily won. Especially not in this life.”

A pang shot through my chest at his words, and my fingers instinctively went to the ribbon around my neck – an action that, thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, as his gaze wasn’t on me.

But before I could become deluged in my own, swiftly darkening thoughts, or think up a response, the obnoxious blare of a car horn shot through the silence that had pulled taut between us, and I flinched as a pair of starlings squawked and flew from one end of the warehouse to the other, wings a flurry of movement, stirring the dust from the rafters.

Shouting followed suit – a gruff, deep voice – and Thomas merely sighed. “That’d be Alfie,” he told me. “Here on account of business. I didn’t expect him this early.”

The door burst open, and another group of starlings came alive. A wooden cane announced its presence against the floorboards, heavy boots following suit. A long, black, dusty coat swished behind his uneven gait, and although wearing a rather wide hat, his features were not obscured, for he did not tip his head down like Luca, but rather, held it high. He was shadowed, however, by a colossus of a creature of inordinate proportion: a man whose shoulders must’ve been wider than the haunches of a draft horse, but who kept quiet and immediately found his place leaning against one of the gin kegs, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, dear,” Alfie – the one with the cane – said, looking up to the rafters. “Tommy, you’ve got fucking starlings, mate. That shit will rot your pipework.”

Thomas had already started towards him, just in time for Alfie to pull a revolver from his coat and aim it to the rafters.

“These bastards only understand one language,” Alfie said.

“It’s all right, Alfie,” Thomas said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder to bring him to his senses. “No need. It’s all right. I’m going to get a kestrel.”

Alfie reluctantly holstered the revolver, and turned to Thomas. “I hear you’ve got Italians, mate. You got a kestrel for them and all?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do,” Thomas said, and motioned towards me. I sat straighter in my chair as Alfie met my gaze and Thomas introduced us. “Charlotte, this is Alfie. Alfie, this is – “

“Well, between the pikey I met outside with the shite haircut and this poncy looking broad…” Alfie lifted his cane to point to me. “… you’ve got to ask yourself, mate, ‘have I made a mistake?’”

I stood, smoothing out my coat, and said, “A pleasure to meet you, Mister…?”

“Solomons.” He took a step closer to me, dark blue gaze examining me head to toe, but mostly settling on my face. “You’re a Londoner, aren’t you, yeah?”

Though recognition passed through me at the name Solomons, the infamous gang of Camden Town, London, I dared not betray such a thing on my expression. The less he knew, the better, and I was quietly grateful that Thomas had only given my first name. The moment I supplied the name Griffin, my history would be written for me. I was not my family, and I was not my father.

“I am, yes.” I took this time as he studied me to do the same, reflecting mostly on the red sores above the bristle of his moustache and the pallid complexion around his cheeks. Physically, he seemed unwell, though his voice boomed with all the energy of ten men and, despite the limp in his gait, he walked with confidence that rivaled Thomas Shelby’s.

“Fucking knew it. Me too, yeah. Certainly not from round your neighbourhood, though,” he said. “Now, are you expecting to not get blood on those pretty white gloves of yours, or is this some joke, because you don’t look like you could take on a fucking mouse if it looked at you the wrong way, love.”

“I’m a spy,” I said, tone even. “I don’t get my hands dirty, not even with a mouse.”

Alfie’s brows raised, and he swung his head over his shoulder to look to Tommy. “See what I’m sayin’, mate? I’m inclined to wonder if you’ve suffered a recent head injury with these new recruits of yours.”

A dark blue gaze was back on me in an instant, and he asked, “Are you a Jew?”

Though mildly taken aback by the question, I still maintained my neutrality, and said, “Catholic.”

“Ah, real shame that is. Was hoping for at least one redeeming quality. See, now, I always thought you Catholics were a stuck-up lot, and this just further confirms my theory, ain’t it?” Alfie said.

“Alfie,” Thomas interjected, a warning in his tone. “Why don’t you tell Charlotte about the boxing tournament?”

I eyed the men curiously, but remained silent.

“Right, well, speaking of freaks of fucking nature, this godless fucking thing here…” Alfie turned and lifted his cane to point now to the hulking man that had shadowed him. “… is my nephew. And any man you put before him, right, would be like entering a fucking threshing machine, mate, so there really isn’t any tournament to speak of, is there?”

Though Thomas appeared tired, I could glimpse the slightest twinkle of amusement in his eye.

“Aberama Gold has a rather qualified competitor. I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, Alfie,” Thomas said as he walked back around to the table to pour himself a glass of gin. He kept pouring until the amber-tinted liquid nearly overflowed.

Alfie blinked at him as if he’d just insulted his mother, and said, “Now, I don’t think I heard you right, Tommy dear, see, because it sounds like you just said that pikey outside is the muppet offering up a sacrifice to Goliath here.”

Thomas took a hearty swig of the gin, and said, “You heard right, Alfie. Aberama’s son has quite the swing on him.”

I’d spoken with Aberama only briefly, when he’d met with Thomas to conduct some form of business. He was the leader of the Gypsy gang that had defended the Shelbys at the funeral and killed Luca’s men. Though I’d thought at the time that he’d been too big for his boots, I was rapidly beginning to reconsider in the presence of my current company.

Before Alfie could say anything more, Thomas nodded to me, and said, “Charlotte, you’re invited to the tournament.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I will have to decline the invitation,” I said politely. “I’m not a fan of fighting.”

“Well, you came to the wrong employer then, eh?” Alfie said, giving Thomas a pointed look.

Thomas pursed his lips and shifted his jaw, holding Alfie’s stare for a moment, before downing the last of his gin.

“So people keep telling me,” I said, my gaze drifting to meet Thomas’ as I remembered Polly’s warning.

“Thinking about going back to London?” Thomas asked me.

A smile pulled at my lips, and I said, “Not for a second.”

---

I’d waited outside while Alfie and Thomas discussed the fight and whatever else it was that he’d invited him for. The streets of Small Heath were empty, the cold wind that whistled through them the only seemingly living thing that spoke.

It spoke to me in a hushed yet incessant tone, growing in intensity with every gust. The clouds above hung low in a dark sky; a storm was brewing, building, and the wind was denoting its arrival.

It tossed the hair across my face, and I pawed it from my eyes, blinking, tearing up. A figure had appeared past the threads of my hair and the blurriness of my gaze, and a chill that was not from the weather ran through me as I spotted the sandy blonde hair that streaked across my vision.

When I had reclaimed my sight, his figure had disappeared down one of the alleyways, and something tugged cruelly at my heart, pulling me forth. The wind ushered me onward, buffeting my back and blowing the ends of my coat and the long ropes of my hair forward.

Something so malignantly hopeful had built inside, for it now crashed cruelly into my gut as I stared down the emptiness of the alley, and I reached for the threads of ribbon around my neck, cold fingers running along the silken fabric for comfort.

A snowflake melted against my cheek, streaking cold down my jaw.

I had been so certain, if only for those few moments, that it had been him.

I looked to the sky to see that it was not snow, but rain, that began to filter from the heavy clouds. And I looked back to the alley to see nothing but rubbish and brick.

“Charlotte?” Thomas’ call forced my hand downward, and I swallowed, my hair blowing back from my shoulders and the wind burning my eyes as I looked to him and Alfie.

“Be right there, sir!” I called back, my step hurried and my heart slamming against my ribs as I made my way back to the distillery.

Alfie was bidding goodbye to Thomas; he then looked my direction, and shouted rather theatrically with a wave of his cane, “Shalom, fearsome kestrel!” before ducking into the door of his vehicle.

Thomas turned to me, and said, “We best be off.” The wind hardly stirred a strand of hair on his head, as if not daring to vex him as it did me.

“Actually, I would like to walk back. The hotel isn’t far from here,” I said, casting a glance down the street to the alley. A piece of me still felt tethered to it, could almost hear my brother’s voice over the wallow of the wind. It was as if I was being haunted.

Thomas spared a glance at the sky, and said, “Very well, Charlotte. The rain is good luck, you know.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my coat. “Is that a Gypsy superstition?”

A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps.”

“Thank you for your hospitality today, Mr. Shelby,” I said. “I will be seeing you tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” he confirmed, and said, “Be safe, Charlotte. Don’t take any taxis. I don’t trust them nowadays.”

“You don’t say,” I remarked as I turned a shoulder to leave, but there was little humour behind my words. My spine and insides still felt as though they’d been rattled.

“Oh, and Charlotte?” he called, and I paused, turning again to face him and the bitter wind.

“Your heart,” he said. “You have a good heart.”

“How do you figure?”

“Call it Gypsy blood.”

I nodded, my heart feeling suddenly numb, the biting winds passing through the hollow shell of my chest but lingering, whispering its cruel words into the eddy of horrors in my mind and prodding, gently, at the bright buried in the dark of my soul.

A.N. Because it will likely never be explicity stated in the story, the reason that Tommy discerned she had a good heart was because she thought the gin was too bitter therefore implying she has a sweet or "good" soul. I know it sounds like such a stupid reason lmao but it ties into other stuff later. And also, ssssssymbolism.

NEXT CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST / FULL MASTERLIST

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Taglist:

#luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #adrien brody #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writing #alfie solomons #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #polly gray #arthur shelby #white ribbon #peaky blinders fanfic

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layzeal · 1 year

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hey, as a mature person of the right age (not a minor), how do you feel about teenagers reading books like mdzs? i was surprised to know an acquaintance who have watched cql then read the novel and manhua. She was the one who introduced me into cql, which i didn't watch since i dont like watching in general, i prefer reading. i have recently found the manhua then read the novel and briefly watched the show, i was surprised since she recc it to me a few years ago. thats when i realized that she must have been 12?? 13? if i guess right at that time. she even asked me if i read about Incense Burner, which i did skim since I'm still not comfy enough to read it, it feels like violating the couple i adore so much by witnessing such affectionate acts. I was just surprised, it didn't really sinked into me that people that young read sensitive topics as their introduction to various issues reflected in books. A lot of people, who are certainly old enough to read such material is still not mature and somehow manage to contract the whole story to their dialogue. She does know I like JC, he is so pathetic ( affectionate and condescending). And i really aint stopping her, i just wanna vent so pls feel free to ignore.

oof, so my initial reaction is definitely that... 12/13 is way too young to be reading mdzs :/ not even just because of the explicit sex scenes, but the story overall is not something i'd reccomend to to someone who is essentially a child

however, as someone who was also a 13 year old who interacted with content that was not suitable for me (in my case, horror and staged/drawn gore) i can understand the appeal. that's an age where pretty much everyone starts wanting to get away from the more kiddies stuff and interacting with more adult content, which they're likely not prepared to see. there's a whole generation of internet kids born in the 90s who can tell all sort of stories about that

so while it is not something she should have been reading, saying "hey you shouldn't read that" is likely to have the opposite effect you know? teenages will lie and search for content they're not supposed to see whether we like it or not, so... i guess, the only thing to do is talk to her and be like "hey, i know these stories sound really good and interesting. they are! but maybe it's best to wait a few more years, just so you can truly appreciate its content beyond the romance, since most of it might be too boring for you just now"

and... well, it wouldn't be a lie. i can't imagine a 13 year old having a good time reading through nie mingjue's empathy arc, or the guanyin temple. for as good as wangxian's romantic scenes are, they are also a very small part of the novel, and i think it's a disservice to the story if you skim the more political aspects and side-stories just to read the romance. it's not a good habit to develop when interacting with media yk? and best to not start doing so when young

you can try introducing her to more age-appropriate compelling material too. for as much as we clown on YA books, they ARE an important step for teenagers to start interacting with longer and more complex stories, even if they're not "good". you can start by reccomending the really good ones like The Hunger Games, and then asking what sort of thing interests her. there are also lots of asian media like mangas and webtoons to choose from too, and are more fitting for her age!

that age is... complicated, and you truly can't control what sort of thing they'll interact with. sometimes, they will end up seeing something upsetting and having to understand by themselves where their boundaries are. as long as they're not interacting with material that's too heavy and MOST IMPORTANTLY not being close to adults online who are aware she's a minor and still talk to her about these materials, it should be fine. 13 year olds will be 13 year olds, ya know

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merrysithmas · 2 years

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@obiwanobi hi!! I saw your tags and wanted to type you out a response! It was gonna be short LOL.

So - why I dislike the Mandalorian culture (and thus shows and arcs focusing on them/Mando characters). I dislike them for the exact reasons you've pointed out in your tags!

Note: this isn't hate! i'm really happy people like what they like and I think it's awesome! Mandalorians just are not my personal favs.

1) I find all of their endless wars and fighting and little bad-blood clan fights very boring and borish. I don't like any media that has that as the backbone - it's dull and unfulfilling to me. Game of Thrones, Viking shows, Medieval shit... no. It's the competitiveness that I find very distasteful and dull. Vying for territory and honor stuff? Puts me to sleep. I think find the characters to be like... simple and unlikeable. It's why I greatly prefer stories about the Jedi, the monks like Chirrut, characters like Kanan, or conflicted characters like Anakin who struggle to do good but have a heavy conscience (despite evil deeds). When Vader does smth bad you know Anakin is inside paying for it - that's part of why it's so gleeful to watch him do bad stuff. He never really gets away with it. The Mandalorians on the other hand glorify violence and death and I think it's ugly and frankly I hate watching it. Not my cup of tea.

2) I find weapons repulsive and agree with Obi-wan "how uncivilized". The Jedi saber & how long it takes to properly master is much more my area. Or say, Han who uses a blaster as a failsafe. The Mandos: A culture that glamorizes, or worse, diefies weapons ("Weapons are my religion") I truly find disgusting. It reminds me very much of modern-day conservative USA and I am not at all surprised the show is...very popular for this reason. Again? Not my cup of tea.

3) I LOVE SATINE KRYZE! I think she was the only decent Mandalorian, a true hero, one of the coolest & bravest characters in Star Wars, and the perfect never-would-have-worked-between-us for Obi-wan! Can you see Obi-wan, man of righteous morals and service living alongside warsome Mandalorians, even if he abandoned his life's calling for Satine? HELL no. He loved Satine because she had a voice and literally unheard of bravery in the face of her culture's toxic traits. Obi-wan would've keeled over from boredom and his eyes would've rolled so far back in his head he would've lost them every time Whoever The Fuck from Clan Scalpthem threw another brick through their window or challenged someone to the zillionth duel that week (can't he just read a chapter in his book???) He and Satine were FAR TOO alike and made a great We Respect Each Other Too Much To Do This dynamic while staying true to themselves so hard they had to genuinely walk away & and prioritize themselves. Damn. That's cool.

4) I feel the IRL obsession/phenomenon with the Mandalorian comes down to two things imo - ppl who like Baby Yoda/Dad Mando (valid), and otherwise its fans who are weapons-obsessed toxic dudebros who stomp and cry about everything else and then piss themselves with joy whenever ppl are getting mindlessly gutted on screen. It's why I feel Mando is so popular and other media such as TBOBF (he's a good man, sworn off senseless violence), OWK (introspective show based on emotional and psychological connection btw Obi and Ani), TLJ & Rey in general (a woman with feelings & power) gets shit on by dudebro Star Wars fans and they salivate over Mando.

Don't get me wrong! I think Din is a good character! I like watching him & the show! I find his religious arc that competes with something he discovers is just as important to him (Grogu) very compelling and sweet honestly! I enjoy his timidness and chivalry compared to the other Mandos who are not at all as noble as he is. I enjoy the tragedy of obviously him eventually dying for Grogu/Grogu outliving him by hundreds of years - it's great! But Mandalorians in general? No.

Do I think the show is the best written or filmed? No. I don't like Mandalore or their culture. I find them extremely unlikeable, and I don't like the really transparent worship of the show by the cismen gatekeeping fans whose senselessly and grossly loudly complain about literally everything else for NO reason.

Like sure - you don't have to like stuff! But stop screaming over everyone else, and stop ruining things for others.

I see sooo many SW articles about non-Mando shows like "this show is pointless" "this arc is pointless" "exploring this period is pointless" "why can't this be more like the Mandalorian" "this isn't good" like..... ok.... TO YOU?? but there are a TON of other people who are actual FANS of Star Wars and want to see their favs from the movies do ANYTHING.

That IS the point of the other shows.

So yeah, lol, my mix of reasons for finding Mandalorians and their culture extremely annoying. Legit though: No hate if you like them! It's all cool. Everyone likes diff stuff for diff reasons and I completely respect that.

#not tagging w anytbing #bc this is just my person opinion and likes and dislikes #**personal #sorry this was so long!!

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batbeato · 6 months

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i had the horrible realization that while on twitter i'd be too limited by horrific character limits to rant about this in a satisfactory way, here on tumblr? here, i am free.

no one can stop me from ranting about subahibi. no one. none of you understand how long i've been holding this in (two years. two. years.)

...subahibi spoilers and my rage-fueled criticism of it to follow.

so. subahibi. yeah. look, I think most people know it as "that one VN where the girl gets fucked by a dog" and you know. it is that VN. it's a denpa eroge, heavy emphasis on eroge, with a side of the usual (in)comprehensible denpa rambling about the meaning of life love the universe everything with references ranging from Satie to Cyrano. it also vaguely ties into some other game by the same studio by virtue of local cryptid girl who is never explained in subahibi. classic.

now, I have nothing against the genre. I actually really like CROSS CHANNEL, another denpa eroge. most of the eroge parts don't interest me in CC but they're tolerable, sometimes hold plot relevance, and while the VN itself sometimes goes into absurdity and becomes laughable when it's trying to be sincere, it does try its best and has interesting elements, if underutilized. Some elements are utilized incredibly well, too!

however. subahibi is one of the worst VNs I've ever read, checking off all the boxes of:

horrific failure at depicting mental illness (the fantastical depiction of DID bears little resemblance to the actual condition. if it was confirmed to be spiritual possession, it might be different, but the VN does its best to act as though it's "unclear")

sex scenes clearly there for gratuity that drag on (yes, I know it's an eroge. there was no need to have an entire sex scene devoted to a random teacher raping her father. she wasn't even a main character.)

transphobia that goes from the usual subtle gender essentialism to so blatant it's horrific (the f slur, Mamiya being insulted by the 'good' protagonist for his femininity and forced crossdressing)

boring brocon brother/sister incest.

the VN does have some interesting components. I think the idea of someone taking on Zakuro's name to get revenge for her, but they're actually a very fucked up person who never really know her? interesting. the way the story is told from these varying unreliable narrators? interesting. the idea of taking a plural character and telling the same story/time period with the different alters' perspectives? again, interesting.

however, it completely fails to make use of any of these interesting components, especially with its depiction of DID being so bad that I wonder if anyone working on Subahibi had so much as met someone with any degree of disassociation in their lives, ever. also the rejection of mental health professionals as being capable of helping. it all comes across as some chuuni author insisting that the only way to reach happiness and mental wellness is to stick your dick in something and beat up bad guys.

I see people talking about how unique and deep Subahibi is, praising it as a great piece of media, and while I do think that, yes, it is interesting, it's more interesting when you realize that it's a flaming trashfire product of its time and its writers, with a moral message so flimsy that an infant could break it in half.

You see, it's not the pieces of media so irredeemably bad that they have nothing new to them that really make them stick in my brain for me to absolutely despise. It's the pieces of media that have just enough interesting elements to grab my interest, then vomit in my face. Subahibi is infuriating to me because it was such an awful read when it could have been a great one. It's infuriating to me because I thought I was going to read either something really amazing or something laughably bad that had a girl getting fucked by a dog. I got something infuriatingly bad that had a woman pissing on the street.

...Yeah. I could go on for days about the details of subahibi's failure to respectfully depict mental illness or DID, but......

#subahibi #subahibi spoilers #mentions of sex #mentions of transphobia

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three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat · 10 months

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OK ok. many things 2 say. i just woke up and read ur answer so bare w me i have a lot

first of all. yeah people really fuck with malons character and the tropes they stick to her are boring at best and misogynistic at worst and it makes me Very Upset. shes one of my favs and shes actually rlly interesting if u squint (im abt to make 2 posts abt that lol) but noooo shes Time's Wife and The Boys Mother and nothing more . when it comes to Time L/U its weird bc it takes the heroes shade into account (which is fine! it is canon!) but imo the heroes shade completely fucked her character to shit and disregarded her entire story of oot and mm and. hhhh. i dont like that version of her becoming the Main Interpetation. please stop making her a brooding asshole please consider her as shes written pleaaaase 🙏🙏

i dont blame u for finding oot and mm dull. theyre long and old and not quite story-heavy as sksw and botw but im just insane about its themes and characters so if u ever have questions i can prolly answer them (and itd make me super happy lmao 🕺💃)

i didnt even know the shortened names were a completely fanon thing what !! hell world ig aaaagh

and OK THANK YOU!!!! there is a MASSIVE difference between tired and sleepy and he is TIRED if anything !!!!!!!! the entire game is about how devoted link is to saving zelda that it caused the reincarnation cycle OF COURSE HE WOULD BE TIRED. OF COURSE HE WOULD SACRIFICE SLEEP FOR THE SAKE OF HER. OF COURSE!!!!!!!!! i will say that there is this interesting thing w sksw in that, like... you start out being told link is someone who is very carefree and almost lackadaisical. he lives with his head in the clouds and takes things at his own pace and he likes to stop and smell the roses and whatnot (see: everything zelda says at the beginning of the game abt him not practicing and not rlly taking it seriously and etc etc etc). hes too late to see her at the forest temple and impa tells him he was too late to SAVE her and THEN we get that iconic "am i late?" "no. youre right on time." scene, and then it ends w ghirahim saying hes "far too quick" at the end of the game. what im getting at is that hes trying so, so hard throughout the game to be the hero zelda needs, and he gets better and better and better (albeit at his own expense). i DO think the impa scene was the major turning point and fucked up his view of himself ("why would i need to take care of myself when she still needs to be saved?") but point is. he is trying so hard. yes hed be tired and itd almost certainly be self imposed but sleepy? LAZY??? did you play the game past the opening .

you and me have the same brain abt sksw link i think. no more sleepy soft sweetheart link i want sksw link with a good heart who is still ultimately so sooo tired and weary bc he is putting everything he is into saving his friend but who also wont pass up the opportunity to fuck with people or wreck shit if he wants to.

ok sorry for the long messages. Why am i not following you what hang on

Dang :/ you really can't have anything in this place, huh? (Also I'd love to hear what you have to say on the hero's shade (even if its just in the context of lu), because I do quite like him (although the version that exists in my head is admittedly a bit-- different))

It's not that I don't want to watch it its just that I know after about three hours I'll be giving up (yeah I can replay a game I've already finished three times for six straight hours but GOD FORBID I try to watch a new show or listen to a podcast :/)

Yeah the names are shortened. yall could've been creative at least? It feels like it reduces them down even further, if that makes sense

YES he's getting faster and faster but at what cost!! Buddy you're going to make yourself sick!!! Take a break once in a while!!! (I say while actively writing several fics in which he Does Not Take A Fucking Break)

At this point sksw link simply has no shits left to give. Like yeah he'll help people but. Wouldn't it just be so much easier to give this love letter away as toilet paper? And also like I know it's just restrictions on how many words they can get in the boxes. But he seems like a pretty blunt guy. I think someone who's a quote unquote "soft sweetheart" would at least be willing to use more than three words at a time (and he wouldn't walk closer to better hear a private conversation, cough, pipit and his mom, cough, and then lie about it)

#the main thing that interests me in ss isnt like. the characters and such. but rather the lore and the fuckery of the timeline.#so im not as qualified to speak on it as i would like :/#also im just bad at grasping stuff thats not laid out directly in front of my face #mb and strawberryrosewood scream about hats

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reiedits1 · 4 years

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The Last Of Us Part II

I played and finished The Last Of Us Part II last week and it has been on my mind ever since. I obviously understand that a lot of people have problems with this game, and that’s okay. I’m not here to change anyone’s views on the game or anything, I just want to kind of write down my opinions and takeaways as, again, it’s been on my mind since finishing it lol. Nobody may see this and this will mean nothing, that’s fine.

Anyway, this post will contain SPOILERS

My Overall Thoughts

I’m not entirely sure how to structure this so I guess I’ll just start with a broad statement lol; I loved The Last Of Us Part II. In my opinion, it’s a beautiful and well-crafted story about loss, grief and consequences, with how each of these things affect different people.

Discussion

From what I’ve seen, I see a lot of people hating on this game for its handling of Joel and the decision to have the player play as Joel’s murderer, Abby. I’ve also seen a lot of people say that the message is as simple and plain as “viOleNcE iS bAd”, but I personally think it’s so much more than that.

The Last Of Us Part II doesn’t just tell you that violence is bad, but it shows you the ramifications of it by dealing with the emotional toll as well as the consequences on not just the main person involved, but their loved ones too.

As we all know, at the start of the game, Joel is brutally killed by Abby and we go with Ellie on a mission to avenge him by killing everybody involved. We see it all from Ellie’s point of view, hardheartedly seeing Abby as the villain as she just killed the character that we know and love as we have an emotional connection to him after the first game. His death is supposed to make you feel angered. It’s not like you’re supposed to be joyed by it. His death scene left me feeling empty and sick, wanting revenge alongside Ellie.

However, as the game goes on, we start to see the story from Abby’s point of view. We learn that the doctor that you, the player, had to murder at the end of The Last of Us is actually the father of Abby. This is brilliant. Now we see one of the main themes of the story, consequences, and I was immediately on board. Joel is not a good person, at all. He murdered hundreds of Fireflies and took away the possible cure for humanity for his own personal reasons. This is incredibly selfish, even going to the lengths of lying to Ellie about the events as he knows that it isn’t what she would want. Technically, Joel is the villain.

Joel had been through so much, so you may think it’s justified. But the point is, Joel isn’t the only person in the world of The Last of Us. Everybody he murders aren’t just mindless NPCs, they are people. People with their own problems who have gone through their own share of pain and loss, people with their own loved ones. Such as the doctor, who had Abby, whom he loved very much and Abby the same. So, understandably, she would feel incredibly angry and feel the need for revenge, just the same as Ellie and the player after Joel’s death.

There is now a cycle of revenge. Ellie goes on to kill Abby’s friends, and so Abby tries to kill Ellie and her friends. It’s not until Lev talks Abby out of it that the cycle seems to have been “broken”. Abby and Lev put it behind them, however, Ellie cannot and nor can Tommy, which means that the cycle is not broken. Ellie continues her hunt for revenge, thinking it’s still what she needs. Just as she’s about to murder Abby, she sees it’s completely useless.

Here I’m going to talk about another core theme of the story: loss. As Ellie is about to kill Abby, she realises that Joel is gone. Completely gone, and killing Abby is not going to change that. She now has Lev, and if Ellie was to kill Abby, Lev would only lose Abby, leaving him in the same situation Ellie was in at the start of the game, which in turn means Ellie is becoming what she set out to kill. It’s no use. Revenge only causes more pain and loss. This cycle is so vicious and nobody wins, and Abby realised this once she found Lev, and found that revenge is a futile thing that does not achieve anything, especially not bringing back her dead friends. She managed to break the cycle herself, and in turn, she found a life worth living, a live with Lev. However, Ellie could not manage this, choosing to still seek revenge.

Because of this, she faces the consequences. She loses all of her loved ones. She loses Dina, she loses Jesse and she loses her baby son, JJ. Tommy is the same too. Tommy couldn’t break the cycle, and he loses his wife, Maria. And guess what, Joel is still gone. All of that loss, yet Joel is still dead. It’s all been for nothing. Ellie is now completely alone, which is what she said she was scared of in the first game, all because of revenge. The way forward is not anger, rage or revenge, but acceptance and love. That’s my takeaway.

You may think this treatment of Joel and Ellie is “disrespectful”, but I disagree. In the first game, you do a lot of bad things as these characters. Yeah, you go through a lot of pain, but so has everybody else, yet they still face the unfavorable consequences. It only makes sense that Joel and Ellie would too. In my opinion, this only helps to build the world of The Last of Us and show that just because Joel and Ellie are the main characters, they aren’t invincible, and the world doesn’t revolve around them. They just happen to be two people who live in the world amongst so many others, which for me, makes it so much more realistic. This is emphasised in the incredible detail in the gameplay of each enemy having names, with other enemies interacting with eachother as you stalk them. It makes them feel so much more real and only increased my enjoyability.

From a story like this, which is so dark and gritty, I don’t expect a happy ending. You’re not supposed to like Ellie by the end of this story, as she serves as the example of why the cycle of revenge is horrible. You’re not supposed to feel satisfied by it, you’re supposed to feel empty, hurt and sad. That is literally the point.

You have to realise that The Last Of Us is a piece of artistic storytelling told and made by artists. It would have been so easy for Neil Druckmann to write a boring and two-dimensional story to appease players and make bank. But he didn’t. He chose to craft an intricate, heavy and creative direction for his material, and I hugely respect that. At the end of the day, he doesn’t owe you anything. This is his story, and these are his characters, he can do what he wants with them. If you don’t like his creative vision, then great! You don’t have to. If you don’t like something, just don’t play/watch/read it. If you loved the first game but hated the second, then just pretend it doesn’t exist and come up with your own fanfiction for these characters, it probably wouldn’t have been as good as this.

A lot of people blame “bad writing” when they don’t like something. There’s a difference between feeling bad about something than it being bad writing, you know. Just because it wasn’t what you wanted, doesn’t mean the writing is bad. By you feeling angry about Joel dying, Neil Druckmann’s writing has accomplished its objective. And I’m not trying to say that everybody who doesn’t like this game didn’t like it because their fanfiction didn’t come true. You cannot like this game solely because you don’t like the direction it took, and that’s fine. Because again, this story is a piece of artistic storytelling, and art is subjective.

This entire post is just my opinion. I personally loved this story and these characters, and it was exactly what I wanted to get out of this game. Everything about the game I just adored. I loved the plot, the writing, the characters, the gameplay, the music, the visuals, the performances - everything. And if you didn’t, then great. That’s your opinion. It just hurts me to see so many people dismissing the incredible things achieved in this game solely because of one plot point. I don’t know. As I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion or anything, I just thought I’d share mine.

I only scratched the surface of my thoughts and opinions on this game. I could talk about it for hours, which only goes to show the extent of its achievements and how incredible it really is. I doubt anybody is reading this and that’s fine, apologies if none of what I said made any sense at all lol, I’m awful at articulating my opinions aha.

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

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Meeting and Dating Napoleon Bonaparte

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Having worked at the Museum of Natural History for over two years, very little was capable of surprising you at this point. You’d come to expect the unexpected and you were almost always prepared for anything.

- Apparently though, there was still a few things that managed to catch you off guard: like your dear friend; and ex coworker, explaining that Ahkmenrah’s evil brother was trying to take over the world …or the fact that you’d wind up finding Napoleon Bonaparte of all people; or wax figures, …sort of attractive.

- Yeah... that was an interesting discovery....

- So, as the story goes, Larry informed you that the museum exhibits were in trouble and that he’d be traveling to Washington in hopes of saving them from whatever danger they’d found themselves in. With very little convincing, you’d agreed to accompany him and you soon found yourself facing off with Kahmunrah and his various minions.

- Which led you to this exact moment: standing cornered in a random room as Napoleon and his guards pointed weapons at you and; mainly, Larry.

- You watched silently as Larry and the man went back and forth, arguing about height and whatever other unimportant thing came up before you’d made yourself a little more known by complimenting the French mans plan.

- Whether you were being serious or merely taking the piss is unimportant, all that matters is that you’d made it seem as though you found the man to be impressive and that you’d directed his attention towards you …and boy did he like what he saw.

- He immediately walked over, putting on a smile and thanking you as he began to noticeably behave in a far more flirty way.

- Although it wasn’t entirely successful; particularly after he slid across the floor to question Larry about your relationship, it did manage to catch you off guard and get you just a tad bit flustered.

- But, just as soon as it began, it was over in a flash. The man forced Larry to come with him, interrupting you as you began to say that you were coming with them, telling you that their fight was not with you; which you would probably have considered to be quite noble in just about any other circumstance.

- Your story momentarily ends here but that isn’t the last time you encounter the Frenchmen. It’s only a few months later that the Museum of Natural History gets a few new guests....

- The first time Napoleon awakens again, he almost immediately encounters Larry; which neither of them are very happy about. What he is happy about is the realization that if Larry is here, there’s a very likely chance that you are as well.

- So; with forced nonchalance, the man asks about you.

“And your friend ...is she here?” He says slowly, looking around as though he expects you to show up at any moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s here. She works here so …you know,” Larry pauses. “She’s probably in her office …working. Downstairs …her office.”

- They stand in an awkward silence for a moment before they both excuse themselves and Napoleon goes off in search of you.

- He runs into you just as you’re coming up for a break, greeting you with a charming smile and a “Bonjour Mademoiselle”. And, for the first time since you first met, he properly introduces himself, kissing your hand and making it increasingly obvious that his interest in your love life was not merely a “French thing”.

- And though you should probably be doing whatever you can to get away from the wax figure with a questionable moral compass, you find yourself unable to. Instead, you stand and speak with him, making conversation until you really need to get back to work.

- But that isn’t the last time you speak with him …he makes sure of that. It seems as though you’re the only thing that really interests him in the museum and soon enough, you’re growing quite used to; and fond of, his growing presence in your life.

- It doesn’t take long for Napoleon to try and ask you out. I mean he conquered most of Europe; wooing a woman is childs play compared to that, right?

- Partially. While you do like him and admit that his French flirtation is tempting, you also know that you have to be reasonable and being reasonable does not include dating a museum exhibit who is only capable of coming alive at night with the help of a magical tablet.

- So the two of you play a game of cat and mouse where he flirts and you enjoy it but do your best to pull away when things start to get too heavy and you can feel the damning words approaching the tip of his tongue.

- You never let him get to the point of actually asking you out. You excuse yourself, you distract him, you change the subject, you do whatever you can to keep your head on straight.

- And it works, it works for a pretty good amount of time, but there's only so long that you can avoid the inevitable; especially when its obvious that you both like each other.

- So finally, the wax figure manages to get the words out, very romantically and suavely asking if you would be his, and though your mind is telling you that it really isn't a good idea, you cant help but say yes.

- He smiles and plants a kiss on the hand of yours that he was holding, telling you that he’ll meet you at your office the next night and the two of you say goodbye.

- Your first date is a stroll around the museum, talking and enjoying your newfound attempt at a relationship.

- You share your first kiss a week or so later after you have a few good dates and decide that you want to continue on with this out of the ordinary relationship.

- You’re sitting outside on the steps of the museum, looking out at the view of the city under the stars when he leans in and presses his lips to yours. You share a soft kiss before you pull away with a smile and scoot in closer to each other.

- After that, the two of you get to experience all the nitty gritty of relationships with each other.

- Napoleon isn't shy about his interest in and affection for you so pda isn’t a rare occurrence in your relationship. He adores you and he thinks that people should know that.

- His arm around your waist; depending on your height it’s probably the easiest place for him to reach.

- Keeping close to each other. He’ll oftentimes hold your hand or your elbow and stay right by your side, looking at you lovingly and listening to you intently.

- Knuckle kisses.

- Slow, romantic kisses.

- Him occasionally just laying one on you; particularly when he’s frustrated or overcome with another sort of powerful emotion. They’re always abrupt and passionate and wind up taking your breath away.

- He uses a lot of pet names on you; oftentimes ones that make you sound small or cute: things like my little darling, my little mouse, etc. He’ll also use a plethora of French terms of endearment on you since he doesn’t speak a whole lot of English.

- He secretly likes when you use pet names on him but he probably won’t admit it to you; he’ll just have a little smile on his face and a warm reaction to them whenever you happen to use them.

- Don’t even bring up the idea of him being the little spoon because he will never take kindly to it. He’ll always be the big spoon or have you resting your head on him regardless of how little sense it may make snuggle-wise.

- The two of you are only capable of seeing each other at night and only when you can get away from work or when you’re able to get night shifts so he likes being able to have a keepsake of you. More likely than not it’s a photo or note that you wrote him which he keeps in his pocket or hat.

- Bringing in little treats for him. He’s stuck inside a museum and his own waxy body most of the time, he’s bound to miss things from the outside world so it’s always nice when you surprise him with something no matter how small.

- Having him by your side whenever you can. He likes lazying around and just being in your presence while you work so you better get used to him.

- He’s always the first one to greet you when he awakens or as you arrive at the museum for your shift. He likes having that honor.

- Telling him about the outside world. He’s missed a lot so you’ll definitely need to fill him in on some current events. He’d also be rather interested in hearing about his impact on the world and how people view him; just try not to mention the complex thing too much.

- Learning about each others lives. He’s obviously going to have a lot more interesting stories but he never minds listening to yours; even if they’re really boring in comparison.

- Letting him brag about his military prowess. He’ll probably try to act all humble and modest in the beginning but will then start eagerly talking about it like you were begging him to do so.

- Hyping him up and making him all smiley with your compliments. He’s pretty approval driven so your praise and validation does wonders to his self esteem.

- His soldiers standing guard or interrupting you if something important is happening.

- His soldiers have also probably helped him execute grand gestures that he’s thought up for you.

- Trying to sneak him out of the museum and into your home every now and again.

- If you’re able to sneak him away for a night then he’d probably enjoy going to a quiet café or restaurant; somewhere the two of you can relax and enjoy some nice food away from the typical chaos of the museum.

- He’d definitely be the type of guy to order for you at restaurants; if you were able to go to restaurants. It’s really up to you if you want to spend your hard earned money and take the time to try to figure out a way to get him out for the night.

- Getting him to play little games with you. You have to do something to pass the time, right? And he’s secretly a bit of a pushover for you so it’s never very difficult.

- Using his telescope to look out the windows of the museum.

- Picnics in areas of the museum or right outside on the steps.

- Marching/strutting around the Museum. Something tells me that he’d walk around with his chin held high and his chest puffed out; as though he were still emperor.

- Romantic language; though he probably speaks in French when he wants to be all lovey dovey with you.

- Him looking you up and down. He’s fairly obvious about it but it’s up to you to know if you’d be able to pick up on what he’s doing.

- Get used to winking and borderline salacious facial expressions and gestures because they’re fairly common with him.

- Love letters.

- He’s old fashioned; partially because he’s just old, so chivalry and social etiquette is a big part of who he is; though it might only surface when he’s around you. He’s always on his best behavior whenever he can be and acts endearingly gentlemanly.

- Gossiping with each other.

- You having any Napoleon “merch”; for lack of a better word, would make him completely smug and he’d have no other choice but to tease you for it.

- Dealing with his overdramatic reactions and behavior.

- Making sure he doesn't get into trouble; or at least trying to whenever you can. Sometimes it’s just inevitable so you’ll have to do your best to provide damage control.

- Letting him handle his fights. It’s best to just sit back and let him deal with things sometimes; he likes thinking that he doesn’t need any help even when he really does.

- Ivan probably makes sure that you have only the best intentions for Little Nippy and once he likes you, he’ll feel the need to defend and protect you as well.

- Larry thinks you’re sort of crazy for wanting to be with a wax figure; particularly one who literally had a complex created in his image, but you just pay him no mind.

- Napoleon isn’t an incredibly jealous person, mainly because he’s not afraid to be direct and ask questions. If he thinks something is going on between you and another person, he’s going to interrogate them to see what their intentions are.

- But on that note: he does get jealous when you fawn over someone else; someone like a movie star, or show fascination in another exhibit; although it’s less jealousy and more him feeling insecure and wondering what they have that he doesn't.

- He isn’t particularly protective but he also has guards he can order to watch over you whenever he perceives there to be some form of danger. That being said: he’s immediately rushing to your side the minute he hears you let out any pained/frightened noise or hears that something might have happened to you.

- Given how sensitive he is, there’s bound to be a few arguments in your relationship. They’re never very serious but they still occur.

- He’s easily placated with an apology or an explanation but if you’re not in the mood to give one, it still wont take him very long to forgive you and begrudgingly admit that he may have overreacted.

- Napoleon tells you that he loves you quite a bit but he leaves it for when you’re alone or tries to say it quiet enough for the people around you not to hear. He wants people to know that you’re together, he doesn’t want them thinking he’s weak.

- Your relationship might not be the most conventional nor is it one that’s easy to keep up for years to come, but you know that you care about each other more than anyone can know and that's enough for you.

#napoleon bonaparte imagine #napoleon bonaparte imagines #napoleon bonaparte headcanons #napoleon bonaparte headcanon #night at the museum headcanon #night at the museum imagines #night at the museum imagine #night at the museum headcanons #battle at the smithsonian imagines #battle at the smithsonian imagine #battle at the smithsonian headcanons #battle at the smithsonian headcanon

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secretbangtnn · 3 years

Text

summary : Getting a letter from a very prestigious school was something that you could have never expect, and even more unexpected was that you didn’t need to pay a penny for it. Beautiful news that were too good to be true, but oh how stupid you were to not question such a perfect chance to get away from your shitty life.

notes:

Guys i would be more than happy for some feedback, its my first time writing in english and im more than nervous. Im not sure if what i wrote is good or even understandable. + i would be more than happy to start an ask game with this book

Chapter one

Living or in your case existing was always somehow calm. Everything you do had a plan and everyday had the same pattern, like a boring vase that stood in the same kitchen you actually were. Blue marble tiles awfully similar to tears that run down the woman's cheeks, making them a little bit more redder than before.

Not that they weren't that color before, always blushy and ready to be seen. And maybe that's why you had that sour taste in your mouth while watching them, knowing that your own were as beautifully red as hers.

"why?" a simple question sounding now like the last call for help. Voice groggy and nose runny making the sight before even more unbearable to look at. But why weren't you moved, why the tears didn't make you guality like they should. "you planned this?! You planned to leave me alone like a selfish bastard!"

Looking down didn't seem like the best option, knowing that it could just take the nerves in the room to a whole new level but you could not stop yourself. She was always one to guilt trip you into everything.

A little shout left the chapped mouth making you jump a little while lifting your head simultaneously. Sight before you seems to worsen and as you took a step back the woman took another two in the end catching your small wrist in her clawed hand.

Hissing and looking dead in her eyes made you somehow more conscious of the whole situation.

“I didn’t know.” and you really did not. Gritting your teeth so hard that it felt like some of them could fall out at any moment seems to stop you from doing sudden movements.

Breathe in and breathe out.

“Of course you think I am stupid! Just like your father, bringing me to insanity step by step. But that’s what you wanted from the beginning, am I right?”

“Stop being delusional mom” Oh how hard it was to say the name of that woman. Mother of child that she forgets most of the time, only to remember at the most shitty time. Today was exactly one of the examples of why your dream was just to wake up not seeing or better not having to think of that woman.

“Am i now? It’s you who wants me like this.” She laughed, throwing her head back in the motion. Elegant column of her neck now easy to see, showing purple and red marks similar to those from claws. “You thought I would not know, you thought you could just run away like a scared little child. Now tell me, how long were you planning this o-or maybe it was your father’s plan from the beginning.”

“I didn’t know about it, I didn’t even apply to any of the schools and you are the one that should know that.” toxicity leaked from your voice in big streams, but it was something that u could not stop at that moment. She was doing it again, acting crazy and psycho making everyone question why she wasnt getting hospital help yet.

“So you are saying that it’s my fault? You were supposed to care for me, for your ill mother, not that you are useful for anything else. How could you even think of disappearing, going to school so far away and leaving me to rot here myself like you were not meant to end like this too!”

Snatching your hand you looked at the woman once again, tears in eyes making you look fragile. Her own body looking weak, nearly dead limbs hanging from a malnourished body, showing the world wrack of a woman she was. Complexion ill looking, but what was not in her case, pale looking with green, purple and blue spots everywhere the skin was shown.

“Why are you being so shocked? Don’t tell me you thought you were going to leave someday.” Her laugh made you grit your teeth, jaw starting to hurt from the tension you were keeping. “Once again you showed how foolish you are, just like your father, just like that scumbag.”

“You are insane.”

“That we already know, so why don’t you come back to your room and start preparing for tomorrow. I want to eat a really nice breakfast next morning and maybe then after we can talk about what job you are going to have to make a living for us.”

And that was your sign to go, not looking back at the sick smirk on your mother mouth momocking your whole being. Step by step you saw the old stairs, in some place missing the color. Your room was nothing special, at least that what people said, for you it was some type of heaven. Peace that you could only catch while being there, laying on your old bed while looking at the dull ceiling.

Closing the door, you exchaled a heavy breath, sliding down on the flat surface of the door. Eyes closed like you have always done after an intense situation, today was not an exception to that.

Asking yourself what just happened, how and why. Unconsciously you looked at the letter beside you, laying so weirdly on the piece of not carpeted floor. The big fault in a little piece of paper. It was funny how this thing made such a bad influence on your life just by arriving on your doorstep.

The fact that the only person you could compare yourself to now is a story character of the name Harry was nearly not as funny as it sounded. However how u can explain getting a letter from a prestigious school you for sure did not apply or even looked up not even thinking about getting a scholarship to having a chance to think about it.

By any chance you were not stupid, but your ambitions flew away with another day in this shit hole you called home. Main reason being your own mother, which not only made it clear but for sure would kill you faster than let you leave.

You took the letter, keeping it in your hand like some unknown object you have never seen before. The texture itself is weird, making you shiver in some way. Big letter stood on the black piece of paper meaning only one thing.

Oh yes, that definitely was unsetting.

You remember clearly the first time you read the words that were put in this blank envelope. Big chance waiting for you, welcoming you with big arms and assuring you that you have nothing to be scared of.

And maybe those words were the one that brought you to that situation. It was not even three hours after the fight with your mother. Sun long down now moon shining on your pale face. Packing everything you tried to be quiet and quick hoping that your mother again ate too much of those big pills.

Big bag now laying down on your bed with a small letter beside it looking as innocent as before. You were not even seventeen making decisions that would cost you more then you can imagine. Living hell with possibility of going to another but in that moment nothing mattered like running away from old monsters.

Floor cracked under your feet even thought you were considered as a lightweight. How could you not be so malnourished when your mother forced you to teach yourself how to cook, never letting you eat before her. You tried to reason her moods or harsh behaviour to you but no matter how many times you tried it always ended in another reason why your life was just simply sad.

Running away was a good decision. You tried to say it so many times to actually believe in those empty words. The truth was that you were an innocent little child, not even a full adult that has never tasted a social life or had a friend.

“It will be alright.” Taste on your tongue after saying this a little sour with a heavy backpack danglin on your right arm. One step and then another, you touched the cold handle of your white doors. It was the first move to make and probably one of the hardest.

Bag on your arm is even more heavy making you realise what is happening. Silent breath flowed past your lips preparing you for your next step.

You pushed it closing it carefully while hoping that the oldish touch to the wood wont make an appearance in a loud noise. Silly smile now seen on your face with big relief in the back of your mind. The hardest part was just before you.

Your mothers room, not fully closed - like always, she needed to make sure nobody would come uninvited. It was just one of her weird characteristics that came with such a messed up mental health.

Small noise came out under your feet, not loud enough to wake up the woman next door but audible enough to be heard from closer.

Photos all around you telling you that you were getting near the main door. Little pictures with you inside faded from ears of hanging, making you stop for a while.

Smooth glass now under your fingers as you touch a specific photo. You and your mother being in the green garden of your grandmas. Happy vibe and pretty smiles now nearly unbelievable to witness on either of faces. It hurted or maybe it was just the adrenaline escaping from a sudden stop.

Oh how the sweet monet was quickly destroyed by the harsh noise from one of the rooms, and you exactly know which one. Loud thud rang out in the quietness of the house, making the silence even more noticable. Your breath escaped leaving you in a big ball of nerves and anxiety.

One...two...three

Silence like the one before big storms but maybe just this time it was not that. You couldn't withdraw now, you were too far and too close to the feeling of freeness. So you did the only thing that came to your mind.

Catching a sliding backpack, you turned to the door in front of you, knowing that just behind them is waiting something so much bigger than your old mother. How stupid for you to not rethink your decision, and believing your innocent mind that its just a good thing, better life that could only make you happier.

So you did it, you took the heavy steps that echoed in the narrow corridor. Light breeze touched your face, and just like the first time you gasped at the feeling. Door closing not that gently as you started running as fast as you could.

Silly smile now on your face with a bouncing bag on your shoulders keeping you on the hard ground. It was feeling similar to the first sight of the ocean or the first taste of sweet ice cream on a hot summery morning. You were in ecstasy choked by the overwhelming emotions.

And maybe because of that you were completely unaware of the danger that waited for you on that chilly night. How could you think about it when everything seemed so distracting almost as you were dreaming and in that moment you probably were closer to believing in this being a slumber.

So as you sat on the cold bench of one of the parks near your home, realization finally came silencing your beating heart. Colder weather now felt more real, as it bit your rosy cheeks. You shivered, keeping your backpack on your lap, trying to hide behind it from a chilly wind that seemed like it came from every side.

Being alone hit you like a truck and the little noises of the night didn't help your rising nerver. You started to lose your breath, feeling your tears sliding down your numb cheeks. It was terrifying now with the knowledge of your wellbeing and adrenaline wearing off with every second.

“Mom?” A silent plea that came out of your lips with shakiness that was more than noticeable. You didn't know why you said that, but the woman was probably the only person you knew. Such a sad truth that you needed to understand. You were alone now, and with that thought a more shameless sobs left your mouth with an occasional whimper.

You were sure you were going to end up dead. That you won't see the new sunset with how your body shivered. Not knowing how life worked or what is bad or good you were a little lamb that waited for hungry wolves to eat her whole.

And maybe one of those predators just saw his next meal. Long strides brought him just in front of you. Your sobs are too loud to make you hear his boots coming closer and closer. His breath just centimeters away from your head, brushing your hair like the not forgotten wind.

“Sweetheart?” It was a calming voice, not too deep but definitely belonging to a grown man. Your posture momentaly stiffened, as your closed eyes now looked at the big leather shoes before you. Your whole body is not moving, only shivering because of the chilly weather and light clothes. It was funny how suddenly you have forgotten about being alone, now wanting just this, wishing for all of this to be a big nightmare.

A deep sight left man's lips reminding you about the realness of the whole situation. You could not move, completely scared, your fingers clutched the bad praying for something to happen. The plan to just act like you were not there, ignoring the man fastly ended, when he sighted once again and crouched just to your eye level.

Deep brown eyes, looking at you with nothing but softness. If you didn’t know better you would say the man looked as if he knew you, cared and was in big relief finding you. But your mother's words echoed in your head, making you believe that every man walking on this planet is bad.

“What are you doing here sweetheart?” Once more this deep voice pierced you. Your mouth opens to answer, deeply knowing that nothing will come out. You just looked in his dark eyes, wishing that maybe he will be the one who can read minds. His eyes now on you, more concerned than before, observing your shivering body.

He was tall and broad for sure, towering over your figure surprisingly even while crouching down. His huge shoulders covered by a creamy coat which now was getting dirty by laying down on a pavement, as it partly hid his expensive looking boots.

Too distracted you didn't notice his hand coming to touch your red cheek, now gently stroking the redness of your skin.

“What a poor soul, so cold and left alone without a coat. Tell me sweetheart would you come and let me warm you a little?”

#poly bts #bts fic rec #bts fanfction #yandere bts #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader #bangta boys #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x you #namjoon fanfic #seokjin x oc #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

#Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Fem Reader #Freddy Krueger #Loretta Krueger #Katherine Krueger #Kathrine Krueger #Maggie Burroughs #Oneshot #Freddy Krueger x Reader Oneshot

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marvelhero-fics · 3 years

Text

Snowman

Series - Chapter Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip.

A/N: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, no spoilers in this chapter!

Word Count: 1,750

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“Did you see her much after that mission?” Dr Raynor asked Bucky. She seemed interested in (Y/N).

“Yea. I saw her in passing a few times. She spent a lot of time at the base I was at. Sometimes I’d be out of cryo for weeks on a mission. That’s when I saw her the most.”

“What did you do together?”

“Played card games, trained together, built weapons, I taught her how to snipe. Normal shit, I guess.” It felt strange thinking about it all. It felt like a different lifetime to him.

“I guess that is somewhat normal for trained assassins. Did you tell her anything about yourself? After she explained her story, did you reciprocate that?” His therapist questioned.

“I couldn’t. I didn’t really remember that much about myself. Everything I knew was wiped, I was pretty much a blank slate. I couldn’t even tell her my name because I didn’t know it.” Bucky shrugged.

“What did she call you then?”

“She gave me a nickname. Snegovik. It means snowman in Russian. She thought it was hilarious, because I was the Winter Soldier. If anyone else called me snowman I would’ve snapped their necks, but when she did it-'' Bucky paused to think, “It felt nice.”

Moscow

2012

“What’re you doing, snegovik? (snowman)” You placed yourself down at the table opposite Bucky. He looked up at you, his pale blue eyes gazing into yours. You noticed Bucky started looking differently at you as you spent more time together. Instead of a look of hostility or annoyance as he gave to everyone else, it was a gentle look. A look you would give birds dancing in a fountain on a warm day, or a look you would give the sun as it rose so smoothly over the snowy mountains.

“Reading.” He shut the file laid out in front of him. The maroon file had a black HYDRA symbol resting in the middle. It was his next target.

“I haven’t had a case in weeks. I’m bored out of my mind. Do you wanna go to the firing range with me?” You queried. The HYDRA base you were currently stuck at had one of the largest firing ranges down in the basement, with a very fun collection of weaponry.

“I know what we can do. Let’s go snezhinka. (snowflake)” Bucky pushed up against the table to stand, he grabbed his file and walked off. You quickly followed behind.

The two of you ended up in a large room full of dark grey lockers. It was an empty, dusty smelling room. Not many agents or assassins resided at this base so it was mostly desolate.

Bucky pulled a few lockers open, his metal fingers clanking against the steel lockers. He tossed a large coat towards you. It was black with a soft fur lining the hood.

“Put that on.” He demanded.

“Are we going outside?” You asked, tossing the coat over your shoulders and zipping up the front.

“Mhm.” Bucky pulled his sniper rifle out of a locker. It was already put together. He grabbed a small, red box of ammunition and an extra scope. He walked off again, he tended to do that.

You waltzed off behind him.

“Don’t you need a coat too?”

“No. I’m the snowman, remember?” He smirked back at you. Bucky didn’t smile very often, you always tried to savour the moments that he did.

The two of you exited the compound through a side door, it simply led out into the snowy forest. He began walking out into the snow, along a path he’d obviously walked plenty of times before. The large pines that inhabited the forest were covered in a layer of thick snow. The reminisce of grass and flowers barely poked through the large sheet of white on the ground.

Bucky’s path guided to a small, wooden sniper nest. It was an old sniper range that used to be for protecting the base. As more enhanced people began showing up, HYDRA moved to using giant concrete bunkers instead.

Bucky threw down a thin, dark green blanket and lay down on his stomach. He quickly set up his sniper rifle and adjusted the scope.

“Lie down.” He asserted. You complied, lying down on your stomach next to him. There was nearly no room between your bodies, the sniper nest seemed like it was only made for one. His body radiated heat like a fire. So much for snowman, you thought. Bucky lined up the spare scope and passed it over to you.

“Look through that.”

You stared through the small scope, it showed a few trees over two kilometres away. “What am I looking for?” You asked, quietly.

Bucky didn’t reply. The sound of the silenced sniper announced, and a single pinecone burst into pieces. You turned from the scope to look at the man next to you. “That was 2,000 meters away, holy shit.”

“2,248 meters.” He added, lifting the sniper to sit in front of you. “Your turn.”

“I told you, snegovik, I can’t snipe. I’ve never been good at it.”

“I’ll teach you.” He took the spare scope from your hand. “Get nice and close to the gun, your shoulder should be up against this part,” he motioned to the back end of the rifle, you shuffled so you were in place, “look through the scope,” you did as he instructed, “and here,” his hand grabbed your wrist, the cool metal of his fingers burnt against your hand. You didn’t know much about how his metal arm worked, but he seemed to have amazing control over it. He was so gentle as directed your hand to a dial near the scope, “use this to adjust your sight. Take it to 500 metres out, we’ll start off easy.”

You adjusted the scope. 500m. You agilely moved to line up with a large pine cone resting on one of the giant pine trees.

“Deep breath.” Bucky said lightly, “fire.”

Your finger snapped down the trigger and the bullet flew. Bucky watched through his own scope as the bullet hit its target.

“I did it!” You announced,

“You’re not as bad as you thought.” He smiled, “go further out and try again.”

You and Bucky sat in that tiny sniper nest shooting pinecones for hours.

Bucky left early that morning for his mission, leaving you at the base by yourself for a few days. You spent most of those days shooting and you spent your nights combat training. Unsurprisingly, you’d developed some severe insomnia. In your line of work it wasn’t uncommon. Kraken didn’t want you to take any sort of sleeping medication that the HYDRA doctors suggested because he was afraid it would affect your work ethic. He wanted you staying sharp. Arguably, running off no sleep didn’t have you very sharp.

It was another regular night. 2, maybe 3 in the morning, you were in the gym, giving everything you had to a black punching bag. Your bandaged knuckles were feeling the force with every blow. You tiring body felt shaken under the strenuous training you were putting yourself through.

“It’s a bit late for this, snezhikna.” A deep voice announced from the entrance of the gym. You turned to see a muscular figure. He was covered in black clothing, only revealing his face and his large metallic arm. Not many people were able to sneak up on you, except Bucky, he always could.

“How was the mission?” You returned to your punching bag.

“The target was eliminated.” You heard the faint sound of his boots approaching. By the time you spun around he was directly behind you. “Let’s spar. It doesn’t look like that bag’s putting up much of a fight.”

He moved towards the thin gym mats. You watched as he adjusted his arm, each metal part whirring into place. You unravelled your knuckles, standing on the mat opposite him. The two of you stared in silence for a moment, the tension between you hung like a heavy, black smoke. A vicious grin flicked along your mouth and you began.

Punches were met with dodges, kicks were defended with blocks. You ducked, grabbed his metal wrist and pinned it behind him. He adjusted and threw your body over the top of him. You landed hard on the ground. He smiled. You whipped around and caused his legs to fall out from beneath him. He fell, and you quickly moved to throw your legs around his neck. He lay on the ground in a choke hold between your legs. You didn’t apply too much pressure, just enough to stop him from moving.

“Nice job.” He grunted. Just as you thought he would tap out, he grabbed either side of your waist and twisted you so he was able to free himself from your legs. You scrambled to get off your back but Bucky was too quick. His muscular legs had your ankles pinned down and his metal arm had both of your wrists over your head. It clicked into place and held you pinned to the ground.

You’d never felt weak in your life, you were skilled, strong, smart. But Bucky sitting above you like this made you feel so small.

“How can I tap out if you’re holding my arms?” You joked.

Without a moment's warning Bucky lowered his head and pressed his lips against yours. Everything about Bucky was harsh, rough, and cold. But his kiss, it was gentle and sweet.

You kissed back without hesitation, his metal arm relaxed and your hands tangled into his messy hair. He unpinned your legs and you instinctively wrapped your thighs around his waist. His soft, real hand caressed your waist, holding you as if you were fragile china.

He didn’t touch you with his metal hand. He used it to hold up his weight. He never barely ever touched you with that hand. He never knew how strong it really was and he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. Ever since you’d told him his hand was cold, he’d been much more cautious with it. You were the warmth in his life. He didn’t want to mess that up.

“Snegovik, we can’t do this here.” You smiled up at him, your hands held gently against his cheeks, his stubble tickling your palms.

“Let’s go then, my snezhinka.” He carefully picked you up and led you out of the gym.

Taglist: @selfsun @quxxnxfhxll @stranger-names @bb-tings @is-it-really-a-secret

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky fic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky imagine #Bucky oneshot #Bucky series #Bucky Barnes series #bucky #Bucky barnes #the avengers #tfatws #the winter solider #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider fanfic

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bluefirewrites · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

One shot based off a Juke headcanon I had about protective Luke. This is for this momentous March 4th JATP trending day. Here’s to clowning with you!

___________

She noticed him there one night. An almost indistinguishable blob huddled out her window, dark clothes blending in with the shingles, the trees- the night.

It was too late for either of them to be up.

Yes, Julie was aware that ghosts had no need to sleep. No bodies meant no circadian rhythm.

But he wasn’t supposed to be there.

Rubbing her eyes and groping her desk for her glasses, Julie tiptoed across the room, mindful not to make too much noise. It was past midnight after all.

She cracked open her window, the slight breeze playing with her hair as she stuck her head out.

“Luke?” she called, startling the ghost.

“Julie!” He all but yelped. Normally cool and confident, Luke Patterson scrambled, limbs moving wildly, “Uh, hey. What are you- What are you doing up?” he coughed then shot her a smile.

Would have been that perfect smile Julie had raved about to Flynn if it hadn’t come off as hesitant, as a ruse. It didn’t push against his cheeks like they were supposed to. If he hadn’t been a ghost, she would have chalked it up to fatigue.

She nodded her head at the door, “I had to go to the bathroom.”

A yawn snuck out her mouth. Luke’s eyes softened at the sound.

“You should go back to sleep,”

Julie looked him over again, noting his attire. A beanie, his torn up jeans, and… that flannel. The brown one.

She shimmied out and carefully sat next to him on the roof, knees pulled up like his was, “Luke, is something wrong?”

“No. Just get back inside,” he urged, shooing her away. And when she didn’t budge, his tone grew a tad bit more authoritative, “Julie, I mean it. Go to bed.”

“I’ll go when you tell me why you’re out here,” She may be tired, but two could play this stubborn game. And as if she was going to bed without figuring out what’s bothering Luke.

His shoulders rose and sunk, “To think. For some privacy,”

It came out as more of a question, as if he wasn’t entirely committed to that story. At Julie’s judgemental silence, he continued spinning.

“Not sure if you know this, but Alex and Reggie?” he leaned in, hands cupping his mouth, “They can be a bit much.” he stage-whispered teasingly.

She raised an eyebrow, “Alex and Reggie?”

“They’re, like, so,so loud. Real annoying. Very hyper,” he said, “Like I tell them ‘Boys, keep it down’, ya know?”

“Uh-huh,”

She wondered if he legitimately thought this was working on her. And Julie thought she was terrible when put on the spot.

“You have the power to poof literally anywhere and everywhere, yet you choose my roof?”

Seriously, out of all the places to get privacy, Luke thought being a couple feet away from her window was enough seclusion.

Again, he shrugged, emoting a ‘don’t know what to tell ya’, which only irritated Julie even more.

She scooted over, getting into his space, but the ghost wasn’t allowing it, bringing up his arms to keep her at bay, and maybe to move her in the direction of the window.

“Luke, enough with the games just tell me what’s going on-” she reached for him and ended up grazing his ever-jerking shoulder. Her hand landed on something behind him.

It wasn’t a shingle or a leaf. Whatever it was, her finding it made Luke’s eyes widen and had him stuttering out pleas to leave it alone.

With cat-like reflexes she wasn’t aware she had at this hour, Julie grabbed it before he could swipe it away.

Under the moonlight, she inspected the item in her hands, confused.

“Salt?” It was the same can of salt that Carlos had tried to use on the boys, supposedly trying to ‘burn their souls out’, “Why do you have this?”

Luke chuckled nervously, “Oh that? Well that’s just… that’s because...” he faltered, “Because…”

He sighed dejectedly.

“Uh, you mind waiting a couple minutes? While I come up with an excuse?” he tried, his usual charm doing nothing for Julie at the moment.

She stared at him, hard and unwavering. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Luke.”

The ghost deflated. His features tightened, almost pained.

“I never want- argh-” he growled, pounding at the surface before cradling his head, frustrated, “Look, I never wanted to lie to you.”

“Then why do you do it?” her voice warbled as she pressed. He still did this? After all they had been through together? It hurt her to think about, somewhat insulting.

But of course there must be a reason. A good one because whatever he was hiding, it was clearly weighing heavy on him. Much like when he had visited his parents. And when he was suffering from the stamps…

“Something happened,” she surmised.

Luke didn’t want to admit it, she sensed that. But she could sense his resolve breaking, the more she looked at him, looked into his stormy hazel eyes.

Julie inched near him and the moment her hand came up to rest on his shoulder, his whole body shuddered, his breathing becoming less controlled- God, he was falling apart, as if he had spent so long bottled up, the pressure only escaping out now.

He kept shaking his head, refusing to let it happen, but Julie’s hand moved to his other shoulder, pulling herself towards him, her left side locking into his right. He practically melted, and with unplanned synchronicity, their heads rested against each others’.

They sat there, the quietest they had ever been with each other, but the moment screaming something that Julie had yet to decipher.

She thought she could speak ‘Luke’ by now. No two people could engage in something as personal as songwriting without picking up a thing or two on how the other person thinks, feels...

A sort of jitteriness existed in him and all Julie knew was that she just needed to quell it, to calm him down. Her fingers traced patterns into his shoulder, dancing en pointe to the rhythm of her breathing, and soon Luke’s. Slow and steady.

“The night of the Orpheum,” he finally said, “after you left. We were gonna meet you there, I swear we were. But then…”

“Caleb?” she dared to speak his name out loud.

With the way Luke’s form tensed under her arm, she regretted it.

He swallowed hard, withdrawing his head from its comfortable position against hers so he could look at her properly.

“He was here, Julie,” he gritted out.

Her stomach dropped.

Caleb had been here. At her house.

Logically, it was to be expected. He was a ghost, like the boys, able to go anywhere and everywhere. It made sense to come here to get them.

But the fact that he could…The fact that he had...

This man, who could so easily inflict pain, who had no qualms in threatening non-existence to three teenage boys, all because they wouldn’t do what he wanted, had been in her home.

The thought rattled her, and she was almost close to losing her regular breathing pattern. Sensing this, Luke’s hand shot out and coated hers, quick to soothe with guilty fingers.

None of them ever told her this. Of how they ended up at the club before the Orpheum. They must have wanted to shield her from the distress, taking it upon themselves the burden of worrying. Worrying when he would come back. If he ever came back.

“Look, Caleb’s this all powerful ghost. The things he’s capable of,” he shut his eyes, breathing deeply, “I don’t like knowing that he knows where you-”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish, voice cracking. Instead, his hand reached for the can of salt, stealing it back.

Julie noticed it. In the way he held the can, that he didn’t need to open his eyes to grab it; it was instinct. If his palm had been large enough, he could encapsulate the whole thing. He couldn’t be gripping it any tighter.

“But Luke…” she tried to remind him gently.

“I know this doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t burn souls or whatever,” he slammed it down on the roof, “But it’s better than nothing.”

Julie bit her lip, not wanting to ask, dreading the answer.

“Have you been up here? Every night since?”

Luke hesitated.

Oh.

“I don’t spy on you or anything. I’m not a creep or-” he tried, “I just wanna make sure. Make sure you’re alright.”

Julie was at a loss for words.

She didn’t know what to feel. The gesture would have warmed her heart if the visual that presented itself wasn’t so utterly devastating.

The Orpheum performance had been months ago.

That meant many nights of Luke keeping vigil on her roof, outside her room, clutching onto that can of salt like a lifeline, always on edge. Never sleeping, just… sitting there in silence. Anticipating for some attack.

That could drive any person mad.

He didn’t tell the boys either. She knew that. Otherwise they would be up here with him, all armed with their own cans of salt.

Luke bore the burden of worrying.

And he did it alone.

Julie cursed herself for not picking up on it sooner, but there was never any residue of the anxious nights. The electric smile at its full wattage always greeted her when she woke up and visited the studio first thing before leaving for school.

But she should have noticed. Noticed in the way Luke’s gaze seemed to linger on her for a beat too long when he thought she wasn’t looking. In the way he embraced her, squeezing her tight, reluctant to let her go even so she could go to school.

She had always thought it was him relishing in the ability to touch her, never taking it for granted after months of never thinking such a thing was possible.

Finding out why- it hurt. It hurt knowing how much Luke was hurting and he didn’t let it slip once.

All to protect her.

“You don’t have to keep watch, Luke...” she didn’t want to put him through that anymore. Her peace of mind should never be at the expense of Luke’s. She refused.

He shook his head, “No, I do. Because if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t- I couldn’t-”

“Hey. I should be the one who’s worried. You guys almost…” she stopped, not wanting to dwell...

“Look. you’re who he wants. Not me. I should be the one to be,” she eyed the can of salt “to be standing guard outside the studio, protecting you.”

“We’d never want for you to put yourself in danger. Not for us. No way,”

“Well that’s tough because there’s no way I’m gonna let him take you away from me again,” she cried, desperate.

That gave Luke pause and she realized her mistake.

She had meant to say ‘you guys’.

But also at the same time, she didn’t.

The moment of vulnerability made her want to run and hide, but it was already too late. The damage was done. Luke blinked at her, stunned and sad.

His hand on top of hers shifted, curling around until he was holding it, thumb grazing her knuckles, “I’m not going anywhere, Julie,” he promised, “We’re not.” he corrected for her.

“Well, neither am I,”

It should feel like a lie. What both of them said.

Nothing about their situation was fixed. A promise from a ghost to Lifer and vice versa shouldn’t mean anything. Not when he could leave, cross over to the great light at any time. Not when she could grow old and leave him behind along with the memories of her teen years.

Their interesting little relationship was already doomed. No Caleb required.

But she meant it. And that felt like enough.

Luke meant it. And it was.

She wished she could enjoy this.

Another agonizing silence flowed between them, and soon Luke’s hand left, the echo of his touch chilled by the night. She pocketed both of her hands in her sweatpants.

“How did you break free?” she asked, “You were at the club, right? How were you able to get out?”

Luke smiled, “You called. And we came. Duh.”

She sang. Somehow her singing had summoned them, had brought her boys back to her. It had always been that way sorta. There was this feeling she had ever since she played their demo, that there was something tethering them together.

They always knew where to find her. And when.

At first, it annoyed her. Like, who wanted three new responsibilities?

But now it gave her comfort.

She needed to voice this to Luke.

“You can’t be sitting here every night. It doesn’t help anyone for you to be on edge all the time,”

He opened his mouth to interject, but she kept going.

“I know. I know you can’t just turn off all your worrying. It’s scary not knowing what’s gonna happen,” She sneaked one last squeeze to his hand, “But If anything does happen, you’ll know. And you’ll be here” she snapped her fingers, “just like that.”

“But-”

“For me. Please,” she had to say, desperate.

And she watched as any further arguments died on his lips. She was lucky that it took this time.

She brushed away his bangs before cupping his face. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

That seemed to seal the deal.

“Ok. For you,” he nodded. Then he carefully guided her hand off and he cocked his head towards the open window, “You seriously need to sleep though.”

It was her turn to nod, “I will.”

And with that, they both stood, with Luke guiding her back inside, ensuring she didn’t slip and fall off the roof. Once safe and away from the cold, she hung back, elbows perched on the window sill. Luke did the same from the outside.

“Goodnight, Julie,” he whispered.

She smiled, a first for tonight.

“Goodnight, Luke,”

The ghost returned it, and it reached his eyes this time. He moved to leave but he froze. Pulling out the can, he opened the spout and began lining the entirety of window sill with a small stream of salt.

“Here,” he remarked upon finishing, “Just in case.”

Julie didn’t have the heart to correct him. Him standing guard may be for her benefit, but the can of salt was definitely for his.

“Thanks,” she said instead, brushing stray particles to fill any gaps in her protective barrier.

She watched him poof away before closing the window and crawling into bed and succumbing to sleep.

********

Julie hadn’t seen Luke on her roof since.

It had been weeks and there was a definite improvement in the way Luke carried himself from then on out. It was miniscule, of course, but Julie could see it in his eyes that he had been receiving the equivalent of a well-needed slumber.

That didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on her from time to time. Though it never reached ‘stationing on the roof’ status. The boy had found a loophole and she found herself anticipating surprise visits by her locker.

She never did say anything about school.

And everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Julie wasn’t sure why it took so long for the fear that Caleb’s visit had instilled to rear its ugly head.

But it did.

And in the form of nightmares no less.

It was the night of the Oprheum all over again, except when she launched herself at Luke, she merely passed through. No magical hug to save them, she was forced to watch as those jolts, those painful jolts, slowly killed them.

She remembered screaming and crying, the looks on the boys' faces when their light had been snuffed out, when they were nothing more than shimmering particles that faded away into nothing, it was something she never ever wanted to see again.

Her body jerked awake, her body sweating and she was startled to find the screams and cries had followed her- her face damp and her throat coarse. Bringing her knees to her chin, the horror of what she had witnessed was still fresh in her mind, and she was sobbing.

In the midst of all this, she barely registered the tugging feeling, somewhere deep inside her, somewhere she couldn’t really place.

Then suddenly, a telltale sound of a ghost poofing in diminished her cries.

“Julie. Julie!” she heard Luke, frantic. His form, blurred by her tears, moved about the room until he was sitting at the foot of her bed. “A-Are you okay? I felt it, I felt you calling-”

She wiped her face with her sweater sleeve, readjusting to reality, “I’m- I’m fine. It’s just-” she sniffled, “I had a nightmare.”

Once Luke’s face came in view, the nightmare image of his disappearing out of existence overwhelmed her again and some wayward tears flowed against her better judgement.

“Hey,” he moved and was at her side immediately, drawing her to him, “Sh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She buried her face into his chest just to make sure. Because forget her. He was okay. Caleb didn’t take him away from her. He was still here.

The tears she was shedding were ones of pure relief.

It had been awful. For a second, she was powerless. She had felt that way when she lost her mom, her sickness taking hold. She couldn’t stop it from taking her mom, and that left her feeling so hollow.

Julie wouldn’t know what to do if it happened again. If it happened to her boys.

She didn’t know how long Luke held her, wiping her cheeks dry with his thumbs and keeping her hair from clinging to her forehead. But somehow during all this, they both had reclined on her bed, the worst of it having passed.

Even when she had stopped crying, his arms still encased her.

“What can I do?” he asked, unsure, “Tell me. What can I do?”

“Just…” her fists curled around his shirt, her breathing steadying and eyes pleading, “Can you stay here? With me?”

He nodded,resolute, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Julie sighed and she was struck with that promise they made weeks ago. And she allowed herself to relax into him.

It should scare her. How much she trusted him. To be there. There weren't any guarantees in life. Not for her. Especially not for him.

But she called.

And he came.

A constant.

And as much as she didn’t want him to worry about her, she knew that she wouldn’t easily be able to not worry about him.

And encased in arms that would phase through others, and even with the threat of Caleb still hanging over their heads, Julie never felt more safe.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this house. Not in this time of 2020.

But he was.

And she slept peacefully from then on.

tagging @blush-and-books and @lydias--stiles (I will sleep now)

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #juke fic #drabble #NetflixWeWantJATP2 #julie x luke #luke x julie #palina #juke-box #julie molina #luke patterson #let's say possessed nick isn't revealed yet #angsty #hurt and comfort

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justmenoworries · 2 years

Text

I have some... thoughts on Security Breach and I know they’re not gonna be popular. At all. If you wanna read them anyway, spoilers under the cut.

Okay, this game isn’t good. After all this waiting, all the delays, I was expecting at the very least a decent experience but everything about Security Breach is just so... subpar?

I don’t want this to just be a disoriented ramble, so I’m gonna try and put some order in here.

1. The game is buggy as hell.

Seriously, watch the AI for a few seconds and tell me that looks even remotely finished. The patrol routes are ineffective, the models get stuck if there’s the slightest obstruction and the bots don’t notice you half the time when they very much should. You can literally skirt right by a S.T.A.F.F. - bot without crouching and they’ll dead-ass stare right past you without doing anything. Also, you can fall right under the map. Yeah. I’m not kidding. I got yeeted out of bounds several times when I tried to take the elevator. This is the game that Steel Wool claimed they only wanted to release when it was perfect. The cutscenes don’t work right either. When I returned to the Lost and Found at some point, the game just straight-up replayed the Vanessa cutscene and reversed everything to when I ended up in that room for the first time. That’s not to mention the amount of clipping, voiceline-overlap or crashing I had to go though during the first hour! Look, I know game-making is hard, but at least make sure your product even functions before throwing it on the market Steel Wool.

2. The game isn’t scary

Nothing about this game even remotely scared me. At least not the way it should. Oh it tried, that’s for sure, but in the end everything just looks too nice and polished. In the previous games there was this terrible sense of helplessness, with you stuck in one location and only able to try and hang on until 6:00 AM. The animatronics were terrifying because once they got to you there was literally nowhere you could run to. This game? I only felt mild annoyance whenever a bot or an animatronic saw and chased after me. The animatronics are just too cute to be scary. And their try-hard eeevil~ voicelines don’t help. I’m sorry, are you really expecting me to be scared of a guy who says stuff like “You can hide, but you cannot hide”? The jumpscares are just these guys screaming in my face for a few seconds and then a generic static-y game over-screen. Really? That’s it? That’s all the “next chapter in fear” can do? Apart from the fact that jumpscares are the cheapest way to scare someone in a horror game, the imagery here is at least supposed to be terrifying! I’m supposed to dread the moment I might trigger those, not roll my eyes in exasperation because I know I’ve got an unskippable, boring cutscene ahead of me. Vanny is nothing but a disappointment. She’s barely in the game, she has like two lines and she also just up and disappears if you take certain routes. You’d think with the amount of promotional material she got and her significance to the game’s story, she’d have a bigger role, but nope. She gets nothing. Nada. Zero. If you bought this game in hopes of facing a villain of threat- and creepiness-level William Afton, congratulations, you got played. The twist of her and Vanessa being the same person is also not implemented beyond being cheap wham shots in the endings. Speaking of which...

3. The story sucks

This game is possibly the most story-heavy entry in the franchise and yet it still does a worse job at giving a consistent, interesting plot than the game that had you do literally nothing but sit in one room and press buttons. You get hints there’s something big and sinister going on behind he scenes. You get hints at potentially interesting character arcs. You get hints at some hidden darkness behind all the candy-colored, corporate fun. But that’s it. The game sets up roughly a million mystery boxes and then resolves about a quarter of them in its endings. Like, even the “true ending” explains virtually nothing apart from “William Afton was behind a lot of stuff”, which, yeah, big shock, we totally didn’t predict this since Help Wanted, wow, really pulled the rug out from underneath me there Steel Wool. Every major character is severely underutilized and gets barely anything but the skeleton of a personality. The only exception is Glamrock Freddy and even his character arc is sufficient at best. Everyone else gets silch. And that’s frustrating, because the game frequently hints that there could be more about the characters we’re not seeing. Gregory has no personal records and he somehow ended up in the Pizzaplex without a guest profile. Who is he? Just a random kid Vanny abducted? Is he a robot and that’s why there’s no information about him? Does he have parents? Is he homeless? The animatronics all have some form of personality disorder: Roxy has huge self-esteem issues, Monty can’t control his anger, Chica is a compulsive eater. Where did those come from? Is it a result of mistreatment at the hands of Fazbear Entertainment or Vanny’s hacking? Or did Vanny just amplify negative qualities that were already there so she could control them more easily? Speaking of which, are the animatronics aware they’re being controlled? Are they horrified of what Vanny makes them do? Are they fighting from within in some way? If Freddy was able to resist the reprogramming, why couldn’t they? Since we are able to potentially save Vanessa/Vanny, could there be a way to save them? All very interesting questions that the game apparently thought didn’t need answering or even elaboration. There are no motivations, no goals to pursue, no plotlines, other than ‘get out of the Pizzaplex’. Riveting. I’m so glad I spent money on this. Let’s move on to last and definitely least-

4. The endings are lazy

And I don’t just mean that from a story-telling perspective. The endings are concept art, re-modelled into mostly static comic pages. Most of them involve one character dying for cheap shock value or tear-jerking. Was it really too much to ask for to make fully animated cutscenes? The intro cutscene is animated, so why not make the same effort for the endings? Not to mention that they’re just not narratively satisfying? It’s little more than “Gregory gets out of the Pizzaplex and X comes with him” for every single one. There are no greater consequences for your actions during the game. The most you can do is free Vanny. But the animatronics? Gregory? They stay exactly the same. You’ve changed surface-level stuff and not much else. If you’re gonna pretend to be a choice-driven game a la Undertale or Detroit: Become Human, maybe don’t make every single outcome identical, but with a different coat of paint.

#security breach spoilers #fnaf security breach

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ultrahpfan5blog · 3 years

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Retrospective Review: Casino Royale (2006)

So after thinking about it, I figured that with No Time to Die coming out soon, the Craig Bond era Bond movies deserve a post per film. Casino Royale is the film that got me into Bond. I had seen some of the Brosnan films by then, but they didn't really stick to me much. Perhaps also because I was reasonably young when the Brosnan films came out. But Casino Royale came out during my teen years, where I was starting to get into more dark and gritty movies. To me, this movie and Batman Begins, are cut from the same cloth. Both rebooting characters that had gotten too campy in previous iterations, both brilliant origin stories, and both grounded in reality and gritty. Its no wonder that both version of these characters ended up being my favorite versions. Casino Royale is still easily my favorite Bond film to date.

Truthfully, to me this film is near perfection as an action-thriller. For classic Bond fans who have grown up with the franchise and want specific things like Moneypenny and Q and various gadgets, this film may not be as endearing because it very specifically goes away from being gadget heavy and doesn't give Bond a support staff other than Mathis. I think the most high tech thing in the movie was a portable defibrillator. But this film had me from the very beginning in the black and white sequence and how it showed Bond's two kills to become 007 and how it reimagined the classic opening shot of Bond shooting and the blood red soaking over the screen. I just new we were in for something special from the very beginning. What's amazing is the pacing of this film. This was the longest Bond film since OHMSS at the time. I have watched all prior Bond films and I have felt restless at times while watching them, but not when watching Casino Royale. There is constantly something happening and it keeps you engaged. Not once was I bored in the movie.

The action in the film is absolutely high class. I think its the best Bond action that I have seen. The most classic scene of course is the incredible Parkour chase. Its incredibly exhilarating and major kudos to the guy who did the stunts for the bomb maker. You also get a real understanding of what a brute force this Bond is. While the Bomb maker chooses to jump through the window, Bond will burst through the wall. The Bomb maker will climb construction rods, Bond will just drive a bulldozer and destroy the construction and climb up. When the bomb maker throws the gun at him, Bond just catches it and throws it right back. Little things like that give Bond a personality that is different. But this is only the first great action sequence. There is the Miami airport truck sequence that is also brilliant. You have to love the smug smile on Bond's face when the bomber accidentally blows himself up. There is the staircase fight which is brutal and visceral. Then there is final fight scene in Venice which is emotional and tragic and is the true making of Bond. In between it all, there is the Poker game which is surprisingly entertaining given it takes up quite a chunk of time. There are also some incredibly tense sequences which are laced with humor, like the Bond poisoning scene where Bond almost gets killed and then returns with a classic one liner to leave Le Chiffre dumbfounded. There is the torture scene which is hilarious because of how Bond reacts to the torture and eggs him on in a way. The film never lets up in the action and the thrills.

An enormous part of the success of the film is the casting of Mads Mikkelson as Le Chiffre. I had not known Mads from anywhere before this, but he is immediately compelling and enigmatic. More importantly, rather than just being an all powerful villain to foil, he feels like a human. The tearing blood is a great, sinister gimmick, but you feel like he is on the edge when he loses money in the stock market due to Bond. You feel his desperation in some of the Poker scenes, as well as when the african fighters find him at the hotel, and then when he is torturing Bond to find the location of the money. I am not sure whether I like him more than Bardem's Silva or not, but its telling that the best Bond movies of Craig's era have the best villains. This film put him on the map for me and I loved him as Hannibal, saw him Dr. Strange, and I want see how he does as Grindelwald in the next Fantastic Beasts movie.

However, what elevates this film beyond any prior Bond movie is the casting of Eva Green as Vesper Lynd. She is the best Bond girl ever put to film and the romance between her and Bond is one of the most heartfelt and tragic romances that I have seen. The chemistry between the two actors/characters is electric from their very first scene in the train. The film gives them everything. There are deeply intimate scenes between the two which are not remotely sexual such as the tender shower scene where Bond comforts Vesper after the stairwell fight, many instances of witty repartee, scenes of romance, and then the bitter tragedy of her betrayal and her death. Even her death scene is picturized in a way where you really feel the connection as you can tell that Vesper can't bear to live with what she's done. The film doesn't flinch when showing her drown so it engulfs the audience in the same horror and sadness that Bond is feeling. In general, you experience the same emotions as Bond does as you can't help but fall in love with Vesper and just at the point of happily ever after, it all turns to ash. Its a phenomenal character arc and it also does a great job of establishing how Bond became so cold. Its a fantastic performance from Eva Green, and yet another instance of an actor who put herself on the map in my eyes.

And then there is the man himself. Yet another actor who I knew very little about. At that point everyone thought Craig wasn't good looking enough, not tall enough, not charismatic enough etc... to play Bond. But boy did he just blow expectations away. He is my Bond for sure because his performance is just exceptional in every way. He is built like a tank and is a force of nature, but Craig brings a tender vulnerability, perfectly suited for a young Bond. He looks dapper, is charismatic, is great in the fight scenes, and you genuinely feel he could beat the crap out of people. As I have already mentioned, there are so many touches to his performance that is unique to him. The brutality he brings in the fight scenes, the smirk at the end of the Miami scene, the heartfelt tenderness in the shower scene, the twinkly eyes humor, the rage when he is betrayed, the devastation at Vesper's death, and then the coldness that comes after that. He gets to show a full range, and he delivers every aspect with perfection.

One of the major carryovers from Brosnan era, was Jud Dench as M. And she gets a lot more to do during the Craig era. She is phenomenal as she always is. The dynamic between her and Bond is slightly more stern maternal in the Craig era compared to Brosnan and their interactions are great. Jeffrey Wright brings Felix Leiter back into the fold for the first time since License to Kill and he's a welcome presence as always. Giancarlo Giannini is also pretty great as Mathis and I'm glad he came back in QoS. Jesper Christensen has a quiet presence as Mr. White, who makes recurring appearances in the future.

I feel not enough people give Martin Cambell credit for what he has done. Twice he has launched Bonds successfully. GoldenEye was really good and Casino Royale is just outstanding. I have never paid much attention to the Bond song but the song for Casino Royale is pretty great. Again its telling that the two songs that I remember from Bond movies are from Casino Royale and Skyfall. Anyways, Casino Royale is a near perfect movie, especially for someone who is new to Bond. It really launched Bond into the modern world and got him away from the cold war era type plots. If I had to quibble about something, I would say some of the scenes in the Bahamas are a little slower and maybe 5-10 minutes can be edited down but even those scenes are great character scenes and we get a new origin of the DB5. A 9.5/10 for me.

#casino royale #martin campbell #daniel craig #eva green #mads mikkelsen #jeffrey wright #judi dench #giancarlo giannini #007 #james bond #le chiffre #vesper lynd #felix leiter #mr white #jesper christensen

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

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Passing Through

Dannymay Day 5: Doorway

“Don’t go in there,” his mother warned. Her voice shook. “Never go through that door.”

Danny had no intention of ignoring his mother, especially since the night she’d given him that warning was seared so thoroughly in his mind he didn’t think even as an adult he’d ever forget it.

It had been dark, but not any darker than any other night with Danny’s myriad nightlights and glowing stars stuck everywhere he could reach and then some. The night had long since settled, and Danny was supposed to be sleeping and was instead, like any young child, not doing that.

In fact, he’d been staring out his window, arm balanced on the sill and face pressed up against the glass so he could see the night sky in all her glory. It was one of the only times he felt truly comfortable, alone and with his parents and sister asleep. He often imagined himself sailing amongst those stars. Or flying high enough to reach out and cradle one to his chest.

Jazz always told him that was impossible, that each star was as far away from each other as they were from earth, if not further. He told her she could eat dirt, and she got a hurt look in her eyes that made him feel bad, but he didn’t apologize because she was being mean first.

He’d been preoccupied, that’s why he didn’t notice it at first.

When the soft pink touch of the sun started obscuring the night’s stars, Danny realized he’d been up all night and he was probably going to fall asleep in class again. He turned around to quickly dive into bed to at least feign having slept so his parents didn’t scold him and feel like they had to check in on him at night the way they threatened to last time.

He hadn’t expected the door.

It was small, very small compared to a normal door. It was just large enough that Danny could crawl through on all fours, and he knew there was no way his dad would ever be able to get through. At least not more than an arm. Maybe his head if he tried to dive through it.

The door was closed, a soft, purple light on the other side painting the carpet beneath where it stood, balanced, in the middle of the room. Acting as if it was placed in the wall like any good door, but missing the wall itself entirely.

Danny walked closer, his mind off bed times and getting ready for school entirely. Now he was thinking of adventures and stories Jazz used to read him before he could read himself. Stories of exploration and hidden worlds. His hand brushed against the polished brass handle, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him, causing every hair in his body to stand on end.

He probably should have let go then, released the handle and backed up, frightened. But instead Danny’s grip tightened and he twisted the nob, pulling it slowly open, his heart beating in rapt anticipation. It was barely open a sliver, the tiniest bit of purple light spilling out onto the frame, when his mother ran into the room and slammed it closed.

She was wearing a hazmat suit, as if she’d just come from the lab downstairs, with thick rubber gloves and ominous red goggles that reflected a twisted version of Danny’s face back at him as she pulled him into a tight, unforgiving hug.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” she said, her words heavy with exertion. Had she run up here? How did she know there was a door?

Danny looked over his mother’s shoulder to take another look, but the door had vanished at some point when his eyes were no longer locked upon it. That was when she gave him her warning. The one he had no intention of ignoring.

The one he was disregarding now, for no reason other than he was sick of it. He was tired of the nights, laying awake and seeing a door that promised so much and had yet to be given the opportunity to deliver.

His mother would skin him alive if she knew, but she’d probably never find out. Honestly, if Tucker’s theories were true and it was some monster trying to trick him into its lair Coraline-style, it’d probably take at least a week for her to even realize he was gone. His dad probably wouldn’t notice at all.

Jazz…

Danny shook his head. If anything, Jazz would be the one to forgive him for being dumb. She understood what it was like to have this burning curiosity, this need to know.

The door didn’t always appear. Most nights it did, but only when Danny was distracted by something, usually the stars outside his window, sometimes a particularly fun video game or a good book. It only ever appeared right on the cusp of night and morning, before the sun rose fully but after the stars hid away. And it always waited for him to look away before it disappeared.

He didn’t plan on looking away tonight.

The first night after his mother’s warning, he’d stayed up all night, terrified, waiting for the door to appear. It never did. In fact, the next month, he spent every second awake expecting it to appear and being almost disappointed when it didn’t.

It appeared again, in much the same way it had the first time, while Danny was star gazing.

That’s why, now, knowing the rules (or rather what few rules he could tell from this side of the door), Danny was determined to follow through. None of his questions would be answered just waiting for the door to appear or not appear, nor would they be answered by spending time staring at it and studying it from the outside.

He needed to go through.

The brass knob was cold against his palm, and it turned easily. The click of the mechanism was loud in the night’s quiet. He held his breath. He opened the door.

There was no resistance when it swung open. Almost the opposite, in fact, like it had been waiting for an excuse. The soft purple light that had teased the edges of the door was much closer to a deep, swirling purple that looked almost like mist and obscured the path forward.

But Danny wasn’t scared.

He was curious.

He stepped through, and heard the door close softly behind him. Just like in a horror movie really, and exactly like the stories his mother told him, warning him of monsters and things from the other side.

It didn’t matter anymore, if he’d made the right choice. He’d made his choice and there was only one path to take. Danny walked into the mists and kept walking.

No more than an hour could have passed, but it felt like much longer. Time seemed to stretch along with the endless path, and Danny hadn’t come any closer to the answers he wanted.

He sighed. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he tried calling out, to no avail.

This was turning out to be a waste of a trip. With all the cryptic warnings, he’d hoped it wouldn’t be boring at the very least, yet here he was. The only difference between this and one of Sam’s ‘nature hikes’ was that Danny couldn’t see anything through the damned purple mist.

Or could he?

Danny squinted his eyes, catching something moving just to his left. It was very much hidden, the deep purple of its cloak camouflaged perfectly against the swirling purples all around him. He took a step closer, off the path, and felt the air still around him.

A voice, haunting and deep, startled him.

“A quick learner,” it said.

Danny felt his mouth go dry. There was actually someone here, someone that might not be human. Someone that could summon a door into a kids room for half a decade waiting for them to open it.

Someone who might have answers.

Danny stepped closer, and the mist seemed to gather, catching on itself and folding into a physical shape. The hooded figure. Danny forced himself not to blink. It felt like anything was possible, that if he looked away, he’d miss too much to make sense of it later.

The hooded figure turned to him and beckoned with one gloved hand, the other holding a twisting, intricate staff covered in shapes and symbols Danny couldn’t quite make out. Danny didn’t step any closer.

It was clear this man wasn’t human, or at the very least hadn’t been for some time. The only thing Danny could see hidden under the cloak was an old clock. But even then, Danny couldn’t tell whether it was something he was wearing on his chest or if it simply was his chest and there was nothing else.

“You’re still cautious, even now when you’ve already made your decision?” the figure asked. “Did you not seek an answer to your curiosity?”

Danny frowned. This whatever-it-was knew more than he was comfortable with. Had he been watching from the other side? How? Is that why the door only appeared when it did? Why couldn’t he just open the door and step out if his goal was to spirit Danny away like in the stories?

There were just so many questions, and Danny still didn’t have any answers.

“Do you actually have any answers or are you just going to eat me?” he asked, growing irritated. It had been a long night, made longer by his fruitless walk, and it was starting to affect his temper.

Instead of answering, the figure lowered his arm, tilting his head to the side. “If you thought I was going to eat you, why did you come through the door? You’ve been very good at ignoring it so far.”

“Yeah see,” Danny said, throwing up his hands, “that kind of stuff only makes you sound more creepy and suspicious, you know! If your goal is child eating you should set up, idk a candy house or something. Pretend to be a grandma, I hear that works wonders provided you stay out of your own oven.”

The figure laughed. It sounded, off, not like a noise Danny recognized, but more like a collage of sounds: a ticking clock chiming with heavy clanking clockwork all wrapped in canary song and it vibrated all the way through Danny from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It filled the air around them much like the mist once did and Danny felt glee himself, caught up as he was.

He looked up desperately at the figure, trying to keep ahold of himself and how he truly felt, lost in the sudden sea of emotion. The figure’s cloak was bunched up, as if he was doubled over in laughter, his gloves clutching at his staff and the entire collection shaking with slight tremors.

The hood turned towards him, empty, and Danny’s panic spiked. The laughter stopped, and the figure stood once more, pulling the hood further down and hiding the nothingness underneath.

“I apologize,” he said, sincere. “It’s been some time since I’ve felt in such good humor, and you took me off guard. I hope you didn’t get too swept away?”

Danny, who was still definitely feeling the effects of the other’s laughter, shook his head no. “I’m alright. I just- what are you?”

“I am like Clockwork,” he answered readily. “Though the question you should be asking, Daniel, is what are you? That is a much more interesting answer.”

Disagreeing vehemently, Danny shook his head. Like Clockwork? Was that his name? Why he had a clock, er, was a clock? How did that work? What was he? Simply what his name implied? Something more? There were a billion and a half questions he wanted answers to that were more interesting than that.

Then again, there had to be a reason he said it, right? “Okay Clockwork, I’ll bite. What am I?”

He could swear the thing smiled. “You are halfway there.”

#dannymay2021 #danny phantom #clockwork #danny fenton #horror #horror themes #loosely based off TPoH #but not nearly that well thought out #Bee's writing

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