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brummiereader · 5 months

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Don't Fear The Reaper (Dark!Tommy/ Part One)

Summary: After what was supposed to be a chilled night in with a friend you end up playing a game that unintentionally summons back the dark presence that had haunted you most of your early adulthood. With no way of avoiding the inevitable reunion you are forced to face the otherworldly being and the unfinished business he is set on fulfilling. That unfinished business, you.

Warnings: Language, angst, supernatural themes, dark romance, mentions of blood, stalking, murder, obsessive behaviour, controlling behaviour, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors note: This series is inspired by the song "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, one of my all time favourite tracks.

November 1923...

" Today we gather in sorrow. In remembrance, as we lay Y/N Y/L/N to rest. A beloved granddaughter..." the Reverend said as he glanced up from his sermon to your grandfather, his eyes filled with unspent tears, a man of his time desperately trying to conceal the grief he felt at the vicious loss of his only remaining family member as he clutched his fingers around the single red rose in his weathered hands, scared and calloused from the years of manual labour he had endured. "a friend..." he continued as he looked at the many people gathered around the freshly dug grave, heads cast down, tears staining their reddened cheeks nipped by the cool November air of winter slowly approaching. "...and a blossoming love cruelly snatched away before it's time" he finished as he looked up across the casket to a man dressed all in black, his face concealed by the dark shadow cast by his peak cap, his eyes fixed on the muddied grass below him as a gust of bitter wind blew a scattering of dried leaves past his boots tumbling into the six-foot deep hole before him. His name, Thomas Shelby, the infamous keeper of Birmingham. " Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." the priest prayed, raising his hands as all those present began to recite the Lord's prayer in unison whilst Tommy pulled his gold pocket watch out, his brows knitting together at the lengthy time the service had already dragged out. He had things to do...places to be. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from, evil" the priest finished casting his gaze down in a moment of silence as Tommy's eyes darted up, met with the glaring stare of his Aunt as she held onto the Black Madonna around her neck. Her tear streaked face was visibly shaken from the anger rapidly coursing through her as her nephew dismissively turned his attention above to a hoard of black crows leaving their nest in a nearby tree, the ear-piercing caw of death parting in search of another poor soul of Small Heath to take to the underworld resonating through the gloomy cemetery. " We therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." the priest hummed as he walked around the grave to the man whose path had fatefully collided with your own. Presenting him with a small ceramic pot Tommy lifted a handful of dirt from within the jar, tossing it into the grave as he bent down on one knee, rubbing the remaining soil that had scattered on the grass between his gloved fingers.

" Let's give 'em a show eh?" Tommy whispered as he stood up wiping his forefinger across the bottom of his lower lash as he locked eyes with his cousin. His jaw tightening his teeth clenched, Michael was one breath away from doing something he would undoubtedly regret as Tommy, who was amused with the whole situation, sent him a playful wink, his cousin's angry demeanour clearly not enough to stop him from riling him further up.

" Tommy..." Ada sobbed as she clutched onto her brother's arm wiping her tears away at the tragic event that had brought this day about as every attendee proceeded to bid their final farewell whilst the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground.

" What even was the point?" Ada sniffed as she walked beside Tommy down the gravelled path. "An empty casket Tommy..." She said stopping her brother as she looked back to the workmen shovelling heaps of muddied dirt back into the grave. The finest casket made in Birmingham, Tommy made sure of it. But weightless, empty, a disgrace in Ada's eyes that her beloved friends body had not been found, the only thing left in its expected place a small pool of blood and a dishevelled flat.

" To say goodbye Ada" he said as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips squinting into the distance as he watched the numerous mourners part from the cemetery, the same cemetery he seemed to have frequented more than any other place in his lifetime.

" Shit. I'm sorry" she said turning back to face her brother and the solemn expression he had conjured up settling on his face. "How are you?" she sighed, concerned with her brother's wellbeing and the persistent stoic demeanour he refused to let falter, even in times such as these.

"As expected" he said flatly as he blew a cloud of smoke to the greying sky, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" You can talk to me Tommy. I know you hadn't been together for long, but..." she said crossing her arms as she bit her bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. "...you loved her and she loved you, any fool could've seen that" she finished as she looked down at the ground, a tear slipping over her cheek as she dug the end of her shoe into the grass whilst Tommy observed his sisters turmoil in the corner of his eye, something be had yet been able to muster up himself. " Fuck, who invited him?" she spat looking to Michael as he got into one of the many Bentleys lined up at the bottom of the path.

" Polly" Tommy replied taking one last puff of his cigarette before throwing it onto the gravelled path beneath him, stubbing it out with the flat of his boot.

" Well he has no right" Ada said glaring at her cousin as she took a step closer to her brother. "Y/N was scared of him Tommy. She didn't want to worry you but..." Ada sighed as she watched Polly follow her son into the motor vehicle that could undoubtedly feed the whole of Small Heath for the next five years. "She'd convinced herself it was him following her. And she's not alone, me and the girls from the office think it was him too. You need to do something Tommy" Ada added in a hushed voice, despaired that justice hadn't yet been delivered on behalf of her dear friend.

" And I am, alright?" Tommy replied his brows raised in irritation, his sisters relentless questions regarding your presumed untimely demise starting to get on his last nerve, the beloved boyfriend a far cry from the grieving one he had been trying to portray.

" Wait, where are you going?" Ada asked as her brother turned to leave for his car.

" Away" he replied shortly as his sister stepped in front of him, her brows creasing at the sudden patch of blood staining the collar of his freshly laundered white shirt, snagged by the sharp movement of Tommy's head snapping back to her.

" Jesus Tommy, what the fuck happened to you?" she said as she pulled his collar further down, a large cut that had all but been concealed for the entirety of the service suddenly making itself known.

"Must've nicked myself shaving" Tommy said dismissively as he pulled his shirt back up, hissing at the sharp friction of the cloth grazing against the bloodied wound on his neck.

" Nicked? Was you wrangling a wild animal whilst you was shaving?" She scoffed as she folded her arms eyeing up the crimson stain for a second time, the cut resembling more the grooves of human fingernails scratched into flesh than any injury made by the act of male grooming. " Tommy, what...what about the wake?" Ada called out to her brother as he ignored any further remarks on the suspicious gash to his neck making his way down the path.

" I need time to think, alone Ada. In peace" he called back whilst she watched from afar, an exasperated huff leaving her throat before grief overcame her once more and she headed back up to the grave to say her final goodbye in private.

"Fill her up lads, to the top" he said handing a bundle of King George notes to two more gravediggers in passing on the gritted walkway, his black coat blowing open as a gust of wind cut through the cemetery creaking the leafless branches of a weeping ash tree nearby. Lighting a cigarette Tommy looked up to the top of the graveyard, eyeing up the spot he had chosen for your supposed resting place as a devilish smirk formed on his lips, hidden to those nearby by the cloud of smoke pummelling into the crisp Autumn air. Devilish indeed, manipulative, a wicked lie fabricated for those that would never come to learn the truth of what really happened on that fateful night, all but two of course.

Pulling at your restraints you cried out as your wrists scraped along the ropes, the sharp burn of the twine searing your skin as the all too familiar sound of a car driving along the muddied grass haltered your attempts to call for aid. Cowering yourself into the corner of the small vardo you brought your knees up to your chest as the door opened and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the the room.

" Tut, tut" you heard him say as he grabbed your wrists inspecting your pathetic attempts to escape.

The man you had determined to have been following you, stalking you, now inches from you, his breath hot against your cheek as he leant forward gently untying the cloth from around your eyes, slowly pulling it away. He had fooled you into loving him, convinced you he had kept you from harms way, and he was back again to convince you once more into understanding why he did what he had so selflessly done. Albeit with a wicked grin mischievously playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Tommy..."

" Hello darling"

November 2023...

"Fuck, shit...fuck!" You yelled as you pulled your hand from within the file of papers you had decided to spring-clean, a rather late spring-clean of eight months that was. " Fuck..." You resorted one last time just for the thrills of dramatising the injury you had acquired in your attempts to be an orderly person. Said injury, a bloody paper cut. One that seemed to have amassed it's very own heartbeat in the space of a few seconds. Painful, but not the worst injury you had brought upon yourself. The great stubbing of ones toe in the summer of 2022 when you decided on rearranging your whole flat during a existential crisis had yet to be topped. Avoiding the scattering of crap that now adorned your bedroom floor you headed for the bathroom to wrap your bleeding finger in whatever was available. Toilet paper should do the trick you thought to yourself as you grabbed a roll of Andrex Supreme Quilts from your bathroom cupboard, only the finest for your ass. What on earth made you think this was a good idea? You thought to yourself as you looked around your home that had started to ressemble an episode of hoarders when a small box peaking out under a stack of folders caught your eye, its recognisable pattern embellishing the sides of the cardboard making your heart skip a beat. " What the..." You said aloud as a heavy feeling of dread and confusion settled in the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide at seeing the one item that had all but destroyed any attempts you had made to have a normal life. The same item you thought you had thrown out along with all the memories of the years you had spent trying to understand why they chose you, why it was you their voices never left your thoughts in peace. Is that how it all started? Your ability, or as your referred to it, curse. A stupid board game that had single handedly cast you out from not only your childhood friends but your own family. The same family aside from your beloved granddad that had dragged you to every psychiatrist in the county, every priest, every professional that had prescribed you not with help or sympathy but the label of burden, attention seeker. But a child's imaginary friends were not so imaginary. They would seek you out, knowing you were their connection to the living world for years up until your early adult when another deathly presence appeared, one that stayed in the shadows, always watching from afar. He was not like the others, he stayed back, his gaze always hidden by the shadow his peak cap would cast on his face. And unlike the others he scared you, really fucking scared you. Picking the box up you marched into your kitchen throwing it on the table as you reached into a cupboard for a bin bag. You had been rid of him for years and you would be rid of this game too. After all, it was because of him you shut your eyes from the unliving, ignored their whisperings, determined to live a normal life as normally as you could. That was your plan until the doorbell obnoxiously rang five times in a row and your friends voice reverberated through the corridors of your flat building.

" Open up whore, I brought booze! " she giggled loudly as you heard her stumble forward. Bloody hell, was she already drunk?

" Helena.." you smiled as you opened the door to her standing with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in her hand, hell-bent on recreating her teen years taking shots from the bottle cap. Oh great, she brought friends, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes at the two smartly dressed men behind her.

" You are a klutz babe" she lovingly remarked looking down at your makeshift bandage tightly wrapped around your finger with a kiss to your cheek. " Barneby and Hugh" she introduced you to the two men that had already made themselves at home, currently splayed across your sofa as the nauseating smell of their aftershave they had doused themselves in filled the room. You would never comment on the name anyone had been bestowed upon by their dear parents but, my god...had they just walked off the polo pitch? Londoners no doubt, private upper schooling you thought to yourself, your suspicions only confirmed when the tall blonde Hugh stood up from your sofa with his hand out for you to shake his accent quickly making itself known.

" Hugh. We work for Goldman Sachs in London, took a detour to take in the local..." he cleared his throat as he looked back at his friend with a smirk. Idiot. What an opening line, was he about to present you with his business card? "...sights of Birmingham on our way up north when one of our associates introduced us to the lovely Helena" he said sitting down on the arm of your sofa as he eyes roamed over your body. Detour... What did he think Small Heath was? The local petting zoo to gawk at, the same way he was gawking at you? Yes there was your average oddball here and there and the man that walked around town shoeless, regardless as to whether it was pissing it down or scorching hot outside. But it was your town, and you wouldn't have any jumped up city boy put it down.

" Hmm, how is the big smoke?" you quipped back as the perfectly groomed man with a suspiciously tinted beard grin widened.

" She's feisty Hughey, just how you like them" his friend laughed as his grin settled into a cocky smirk. Hughey...give me strength.

" Helena, I thought we was just gonna watch a movie get some takeou.."

" What the heck! No no, you're not throwing that out!" She screeched as she bolted up from the armchair to the Ouija board you had intended to bin. She was unusually chaotic than her normal bubbly self. The Smirnoff had clearly already been tasted, enjoyed and partly consumed, you thought to yourself as you eyed up the bottle missing a good chunk of it's contents. " I've always wanted to have a go with one of these. Why didn't you say you had this naughty game in your possession?" she asked clutching it to her chest.

" I prefer strip poker but this could be a laugh " the other Londoner remarked with a chuckle as he stood up taking the box from your friend. Could you will your curse to him, you thought to yourself as your eyes narrowed in on the game in his hand. They were getting increasingly annoying. Could they just, fuck off?

" How about it Y/N?" Your friend smiled with joy at the idea of exploring the supernatural side of life.

" I, I don't think it's a good idea" you said as you snatched the box away from the man who had started rootling through it, feeling overly protective over something you intended to discard of, a sudden longing to be comforted by your childhood companions, your only companions. Would they come back if you let them? Or had too much time passed since you had shut your eyes to the spirit world, since you had pushed them out of your life?

" Don't be a spoil sport Y/N" the blonde said prying the board from your bear like grip as you began to feel as if someone was taking a part of what made you uniquely you away from your whole being.

" We can't do it here, it's not the right setting" your friend said looking around your place wanting a full immersion into whatever overly exaggerated scene she wanted to recreate from one of the many movies or shows she had watched " Ooh let's go to that passing by the riverside. You know, the one from all the story's about the dark mysterious figure that resides down there as smoke blows from the old wagons chimney" she said grinning from ear to ear recounting the story every resident of Small Heath had heard since childhood.

" Helena, that's private property" you said as she began to drag you with her to the front door, grabbing your jacket on the way out as she linked arms with you.

" It's just a bit of fun, please? " she pleaded as she waited for a response. A bit of fun, you could list a whole page of other activities that sounded funner. The first being getting take out and drinking yourself to sleep, the original plan for tonight. Could you risk delving back into the otherworldly land you had cut off? Had your ability vanished for good? What if they reappeared, what if he appeared the one you had been painstakingly avoiding for near a decade. It had been so long, surely he was gone, right?

"Fine" your reluctant response slipped out not wanting to be the that person as you headed out the door when just like any generic horror movie your friend was desperately trying to duplicate an uneasy feeling suddenly settled in your stomach. You had become the very character you would scream at your TV screen, violently throwing popcorn in its direction to not be a cliché and go into the creepy woods with a Ouija board, one slightly pissed friend and two idiot tag alongs. But yet here you was, about to ignore every fiber of your being telling your to turn back.

" Hello Mr magpie how's your wife and kids" you whispered quietly to yourself watching the black and white bird perched on a large log that had undoubtedly fallen during the storm that had come through last week as you clutched the thinnest jacket your friend could have possibly picked out for you around your body. Fashion over functionality, that was Helena's Moto you thought to yourself feeling your fingers go numb from the cool air of the bitter Autumn night. One for joy, two for a boy, how many was it for death...no fuck, that wasn't it. You mentally hummed to yourself as you looked around for a second magpie having forgotten the silly superstition your grandad had always recited to you in the presence of the blue tailed bird.

" Can warm you up if you like?" Hugh laughed putting his arm around you which you automatically shrugged off. " You're as frigid as this weather" he joked as you stormed ahead of you with an irritated huff, catching up with your friend who was a few feet ahead of you as your eyes darted around the open area surrounded by numerous large oak trees, the soft sound of the riverbank gently colliding with the muddied ground pricking your ears. As peaceful as it looked in the silver moonlight casting array of shadows onto the dewy grass you didn't want to be here, something felt...off. You was sure you had never once entered this area In your whole existence but yet, something felt eerily similar about it. What you wouldn't do to be in front of the comforting fire of your late granddads home, watching him nod off in front of the TV with a bowl of striped humbugs in his lap, his dentures floating in a glass of water beside him...not the most poetic image you could've conjured up as your anxiety started to make itself presence, but it was home, and it was where your heart was. Your thoughts had become so tangled, since he passed, uncomfortably intrusive. You felt lonely, so lonely in a world surrounded by people that life had become one long draining experience day in day out. You was desperate for relief from the crushing weight of the cards you had been dealt in life.

"Ooh perfect" your friend said snapping you out of your thoughts as she walked up to an old wooden picnic table in the middle of the passing, the worn emerald green vardo that had fallen apart like the rest of the upkeep of the area feet from you, silently stuck in times from before. " Right come on then, tell us how it works"

" Guys I don't think this is a good..." You started to say when Brian, Barney, Barneby, whatever his name was rudely interrupted you.

"You know what I think sweetie, I think you're scared" he laughed as he went to sit down, his nose turning up at the rotten wood he was about to place his Tom Ford three-piece suit that's trousers looked two sizes too small. If he was trying to accentuate what he was packing he needn't bother.

" You can sit next to me if you like" Hugh winked as you purposely made a point to sit across from him, covering your exposed cleavage with your jacket from his pervy leering eyes. The quicker you got this over with this the quicker you could distance yourself from these two imbeciles, you thought to yourself as you pulled the box In front of you, your hands tracing over the pieces of your childhood. The game in itself was pretty simple you each placed two fingers on the triangular shaped piece of wood and proceeded to ask questions. That was it, what happened after was open for debate.

"We call upon the spirit world and welcome those into the circle who wish to speak with us" you said aloud, your mouth suddenly going dry at the passage you never thought you'd hear leave your lips as the tall blonde seated in front of you scoffed at the words you could only image he thought were nothing more than absurd ramblings of wishful thinking.

" It's not doing anything" your friend remarked, now fully submerged in the game she wholeheartedly believed was more than something teens would play in abandoned buildings late at night, desperate for her own supernatural experience.

" It can take some tim..." You started to say as the planchette started moving, both idiots opposite you nudging eachother under the table as your friends eyes stayed fixed on the moving piece of wood, your own attention startled by the arrival of a dozen people slowly approaching through the wooded area, their deafening whispers muffling out your friends voice. Your eyes darted between Helena and the two men she had brought along with her, willing them to see what you could see as the small crowd of people closed in surrounding the table as they called out the names of their family. Mother's, sister, brothers, fathers, grandparents, begging you to pass message after message onward to their loved ones. "Stop..please..." you said quietly, closing your eyes as you pressed your hand to your forehead. There was too many of them, it was happening too fast. You wanted it to stop to just stop, just fucking stop...

" Enough!" A loud deep voice boomed through the crisp night air as the dead retreated back and the form of a man leaning against a tree dressed all in black came into your view, a cloud of smoke pummeling above his head, his eyes cast down at the ground as he rolled his cigarette between his fingers. It was him, he was back. " Leave" he commanded to the others as he slowly strode towards you.

They couldn't see him, why couldn't they see him? He was standing right there, right fucking next to you. You thought to yourself as your chest heaved up and down from the sheer panic rapidly coursing through you, your breaths coming in ragged shallow ripples as his black tailored coat grazed along your arm sending a burning shiver down your spine. A dumb game, a stupid dumb game. Why did you agree to this? You had unknowingly invited him back, summoned him after all the years you had painstakingly tried to keep his presence at bay, you panicked as you looked in the corner of your eye to see him rubbing his thumb over his forefinger, enticing you to look up, taunting you to meet the piercing glare you was certain you'd be met with if you dared to look his way. But yet you stayed motionless, frozen as your eyes slowly settled on your hand resting over the intricately detailed planchette as your friend beside you giggled at its erratic movements on the board below it, which either one or both of the idiots she had brought along with her were undoubtedly doing.

" Alright I've had enough, which one of you wankers is moving it?" Your friend Helena demanded to know as you looked across to the prick that had been hounding you since the moment he laid eyes on you, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his mouth when a leather gloved hand crept across the table placing itself over yours, slowly lacing it's fingers between your own. Your whole body trembling, you desperately tried to pull your hand away when the sinister figure standing beside you grip tightened, keeping your from escaping his inevitable presence as the wooden triangle started to move.

" Y/N…" Your friend said looking to you as the planchette stopped, your name having been spelt letter by letter in a gentle dance of toing and froing that swept across the board until all those present eyes widened not only in fear but confusion. If they weren't moving it, who was? Releasing his hand from yours he reached up, brushing away a lone tear resting on the top of your reddened cheek that had settled in the midst of the spine-chilling ordeal. "Babe, what's wrong?" your friend asked, your frightened, shaken demeanor concerning her enough to pull her hand from the game as she placed her arm around your shoulders in attempts to comfort you when you felt the very figure you had been evading for near a decade rest his thumb gently on the end of your chin, the sound of his leather gloves creasing sending a nauseating chill throughout your body as he turned your head to face him. And there he was. The man, the presence you thought you'd never see again, his face masked by the shadow of his peaked cap now visible to your eye, his ghostly pale skin brightened by his piercing blue eyes boring Into you as a smile formed on the edge of his lips…

" Hello darling. I've been waiting for you" he said as your bottom lip began to wobble, a cascade of tears now streaming down your cheeks wetting the leather gloved thumb still resting on your chin as he tenderly gazed into your eyes. " Shhh" he hushed your frightened sobs as his hand moved to your cheek cupping his fingers gently around the side of your neck.

" What's with her?" the man opposite your friend said as your gaze stayed fixed on the presence before you, watching the irritation build on his face at the the tender moment he had played through his mind countless times spoiled by he annoying chattering of the man accompanying you.

" You're shaking gorgeous. Offer's still there hm? Can warm you up in that broken down gypsy thing" Hugh snickered along with his friend as Helena glared at him, an array of insults leaving her lips. " We'd be better off naked though, we'll warm up quicker that way" he laughed obnoxiously when the presence before you head snapped in his direction, the blue hue of eyes quickly replaced by a sinister black as he threw the table over in front of you in one quick deliberate motion. With his hand clenched into a fist he turned to the man who had not only embarrassed you but insulted you shamelessly In front of everyone with the suggestion you were as crude as him, landing a brutally violent single punch to his face.

" What...what the fuck! What was that?" His friend stuttered leaping from the bench as he looked down at his dazed friend, blood dripping from an open gash on his bottom lip as Helena screamed in horror at what had just happened, her brain simultaneously trying to compute how it had happened. " We're getting the hell out of here" he said lifting his friend from the ground that was holding his lip together as the being beside you rested his hand firmly on your shoulder, squeezing his fingers into your flesh in a clear message to not dare move.

" Babe...Y/N we gotta go" your friend cried trying to pull you from the bench as you stayed seated and the dark presences grip on you tightened.

" Leave Helena " you cried not wishing harm to come to anyone else. He wanted you, he had haunted you for all those years. Your friend and the two men accompanying you were a mere inconvenience. And after what had just transpired, you feared what he could and would do next.

" What! No come on..!" She pleaded shaking you from what she thought was a state of shock when the man she had invited let go of his bloodied friend and started pulling her away from you. " Y/N!" she cried, the distant sound of her fighting with him as he dragged her out of the gated area slowly disappearing as you was ultimately left in silence, alone, with him.

" Please...let me go" you wept as you turned your head to face him.

" Let you go? I've only just got you back sweetheart" he said as he released his hand from your shoulder, his fingers now brushing through the locks of hair framing your face. " You invited me back love, and that was one invitation I could not refuse" he said as you stood up taking a step back when he reached out and grabbed your wrist." Now now Y/N, we have unfinished business" he said pulling you back to him, his pale ivory face inches from you, lips drained of blood tauntingly close.

" I came in peace, with no intentions to offend. I say goodbye and bid you farewell" you recited the words you had learnt by heart after any encounter you once had speaking with those from the other realm.

" Oh sweetheart, now who taught you that little rhyme eh? I'm afraid it doesn't work like that love" he chuckled cocking a brow at the idea that your silly little riddle would cause him to simply vanish before you. " My girl" he said as his thumb dragged down to the corner of your mouth, tracing the curve of your trembling lips, staring at you like a lover would gaze at their partner.

"I, I don't know you, I'm not who you're looking for" you sobbed as you looked down at your hands, clutching them together from the drop in temperature his presence demanded.

" Oh but you do know me darling. You know me very well" he said as his lips parted and his eyes drifted down to the soft flesh of your neck, down to the curves your blouse beneath your jacket hugged your body. " I've waited a century for this very moment, for us to finally be reunited. And believe me sweetheart, my patience is starting to wear thin, very thin" Is that what this was...He thought you were his dead lover, a reincarnation of her that he had been waiting a hundred years for, an anomaly where everything that makes something uniquely individual to them, their genes their likes their dislikes repeating itself into a second copy days, years, thousands of decades later, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened at the realisation of what he had been waiting for, what he had been watching you for as you turned to make a swift exit.

" I can't let you leave Y/N" he said as the large metal gate to the opening slammed shut making you abruptly stop in your tracks.

" I want to go home. I'm not her, I don't belong here..." You cried in a panic, turning back to face him as he strode forward to you his with his hand out, calmly waiting for you to take it.

" Then let me show you" he replied intertwining his fingers with yours as he gently cupped your cheek with his other hand, the welcoming chill from his leather gloved hand soothing the heat radiating from your reddened tear stained cheek. "Let me show you who you were, who you were in 1923..."

NEXT PART

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euaphoric · 11 months

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“you are legally obligated to keep holding me!”

it’s been raining and storming bricks outside all day so i went to distract myself, pop in some headphones and zone out while writing a comfort (and a little smutty) fic about jk soothing you during a thunderstorm! very much not proofread srry

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[6:02 pm] you’d spent the entire evening cuddling and watching movies at home with your boyfriend. it was one of those days where you just chill and be couch potatoes for the whole day; not very productive but is much needed after the busy week you both had. the sky was no longer a bright, pearl blue instead turning a dull grey and heavy sounds of raindrops pattering against the window sill made you realize how gloomy it’s become. it was such a beautiful day out earlier, regretting the fact you didn’t take advantage of it before it was too late. “i guess we’ll have to scrap going to that retro themed diner we wanted to check out..” he sadly announces, looking over at the dreary weather mother nature has presented. “there’s always next time babe, don’t worry about it!” you snuggle up to get closer with your back against his chest. “i know but i was actually really looking forward to go! there’s this cool action figure display they have right when you walk in and it’s like heaven for collectors like me.” he gushed like a fanboy, his little rants and raves about his interests always made you fall in love with him all over again. you appreciated when he talked about the things he was most passionate about, it made you feel closer to him than ever.

[6:54 pm] “you want me to cook or order takeout babe?” his voice brings you out of your trance. you haven’t noticed that you weren’t paying attention to the movie and instead daydreaming off into la la land. you can’t help but be fully head empty, no thoughts when you’re laying in jungkook’s arms. “hm… doesn’t matter, i’ll take both!” you can never just make up your mind. he sighs, knowing that he’ll have to decide for the both of you. as the rain grows heavier, the elements of the outside only seems to worsen by the minute. a blinding strike of lightning echoes with a flash, only to be seen once again in a few minutes. then your worst fear just so seems to show up, the menacing sounds of thunder. you’ve been petrified of thunder since you were a child, never really getting over the fear even through adulthood. some may find it silly but hopefully your boyfriend won’t judge you for it. you curled up into a ball, bringing your knees to your chin as jungkook still has his arms wrapped around you. “everything okay bun?” he could easily sense when you were upset by something, you had some insane couple telepathy going on. “yeah, why wouldn’t it?” you awkwardly pause for a bit, “i’m totally fin— AH!!!” you scream while flinching. another crash of thunder mixed with lightning almost induces a heart attack in you. “is my precious baby scared of the thunder?” he probes, not wanting to make you feel embarrassed for being frightened. you nod, feeling your hands shake from getting too anxious and overwhelmed, beginning to feel helpless in this moment. “don’t worry baby, you’re safe. i’m right here, i’ll go get you some water and be right ba-” he tries to release his grasp but you don’t let him. “NO,” you respond quickly, pulling him back without a second thought “you are legally obligated to keep holding me!” you claim, hoping he’ll take the bait and want to never leave your sight. “okay miss. y/n you got it, it’s only right i listen to the team captain’s orders correct?” “correct.”

[7:38 pm] an idea came to jungkook’s mind when thinking of ways to distract you, he knows it’s not the purest but he knew that it would take your mind off things in an instant. he kiss you tenderly, being gentle with every move he makes as if you are fragile like glass. his broad frame hovers over your body as he thrusts into you slowly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder while calling you his sweet baby and precious angel. his strokes were agonizingly slow, but when he slams his cock deeper in you by surprise you whimper and cry out a bit. his low groans and pants can be heard under his breath, even though he’s going slower than usual he already feels him at his breaking point. “ah— gonna cum y/n, fuck babe!” he roars almost as louder as the thunder from earlier. speaking of thunder, the rain has subsided now. his cock has done more than a good job at pacifying your frenzied state, turning you completely cock dumb for him. it only took a couple more deep strokes to your walls to get you on the brink of your release and have you in shambles. your body went limp soon as you came, feeling as though your soul left it’s body. he still kept his cock in you after cumming inside, reeling you in with a sensual kiss. soft moans fill both your mouths, the air smells of sweaty sex and apple cider candles. you know you wouldn’t have gotten through that frightening thunderstorm without him by your side, he finds it sweet you need his protecting. “you’re so damn cute, you know that?” he blurts, making you giggle against his chest. “not a second goes by where i don’t want to swallow you whole.” figuratively speaking, he’s already done that before many many times.

i feel like this ended weirdly but… we move. pls leave a like/comment/reblog if you liked it, it’ll make my day \(^_^)/

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x female reader #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #jk smut #jk x reader #jungkook drabbles

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pluviophiliced · 6 months

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“Not moving on is worse.”

In the context of season two, I struggle to reconcile the intersection of sincerity and comedy, and the idea of what pains and traumas we are meant to understand at the deeper level of what trauma is with those that serve only the purpose of comedic timing. This isn’t limited to one character, but rather to the season as a whole.

Season one highlighted childhood trauma and the ability to move on from that, becoming the best adult version of oneself possible. We see this evident in Ed, Stede, and Jim specifically as we are allowed to explore their pasts and their traumas — and we can presume that no one on the crew of the Revenge is without trauma (Fang’s dog, anyone?) of some kind that they carry with them. Stede handles his traumas and how to process them through running away and avoiding the issue until he no longer can. Ed does something similar, though he is able to craft a facade to use as a shield and a weapon, even if he never delivers a killing blow himself. Jim dedicates their life to revenge.

We witness all of these characters allow the defining characteristic of love to be allowing themselves to be saved and valued for who they are — not for what they can offer.

When season two opens, we as an audience see Ed at, arguably, his worst (I say arguably because we didn’t see Blackbeard in his prime, so… do with that what you will, I suppose). We see how this affects beloved and treasured characters, as well as new characters that we have yet to fall in love with. We see Fang fall apart not once but twice within the first two episodes alone. In episode two, we see Ed — a much beloved and adored character who we know intimately — lash out when confronted for his behavior. He lashes out at his crew and physically mutilates his closest confidant for daring to question him. “But that’s piracy!” And you’re right! But don’t we watch the first episode of season one highlight how much Stede Bonnet wants to change piracy? Isn’t this show supposed to be about found family, and getting better, and finding healing? In which case, we’re watching Ed behave abusively in the wake of his mental struggles as he once again attempts to hide behind the same facade that has protected him in the past. Ed suffers this breakdown in response to not one but two perceived rejections from the two people he would claim to be the most important in his life, and in a classic mental illness fashion, he barricades himself off and settles into the persona that is everything he doesn’t want to be.

His crew fears him. They’ve been kidnapped and essentially held hostage under the man they believe to have murdered their crew — their friends — and are watching him continue to devolve. Enter Izzy Hands and Jim Jimenez. Izzy is well aware of his hand in Ed’s state. “Well, he instigated it!” He did. He wanted back a version of Blackbeard who he saw as safe territory: a necessary evil for the continued survival and safety of the crew, ship, and Ed and Izzy themselves. And then he watched Edward “Only Ever Killed One Person Personally” Teach fulfill the legend he’s always been known as, and watched him become someone who couldn’t care less about life or death or anything in between. Ed surpassed and buried the version of Blackbeard that Izzy wanted to return, and he was force-fed the consequences of this with an unavoidable cruelty. “Well, he deserved what he got! Violence was always on the table, because it’s piracy!” But once again, we’re operating under the assumption that the big themes of this show are healing from trauma and being worthy of being loved even if we’ve done bad things.

While we’re on that topic, though, let’s explore that. Ed’s childhood trauma comes from his abusive father. He carries the weight of that abuse with him well into adulthood, as well as the weight of what he had to do to survive it. What he had to do to save his mother. This season sees him abusing those around him. Despite this, despite his erratic behavior and the mistreatment of his crew, he is still loved (by crew and fandom both, if I may add). He is still loved by Stede, despite the trail of blood he leaves in his wake. Stede is still longing to find him, despite knowing what he’s done and what he’s now capable of, and this continues to reiterate that idea of you deserve to be loved even when you’ve done wrong.

And then, Stede finds him.

We as an audience witness Ed make the choice to stay alive. We watch the thought process, we see that he chooses to fight for that love that comes alongside being saved. Being wanted. Being seen for who you are and loved because of it. And up to here, I’m on board. I’m excited to see what’s next and how Ed will reconcile for what he’s done and the harm he’s caused at the hands of his mental illness — because the truth is, we harm people when we aren’t adequately being responsible for our mental illness. This is a real-world thing. We lash out when we’re hurt, or when we’re rejected, or when we’re struggling. When we’re suffering, we often can’t see past ourselves to see whether or not we’re also causing others to suffer. This does not make us bad people — and it didn’t make Ed one. And then the “apology” came and went. The only member of the crew Ed really sits and ever has a drawn out conversation with about anything is Fang, and even this is somewhat shallow. Fang absolves him and moves on. We don’t get to see whether or not Ed ponders this conversation long-term or whether or not he battles with himself over how to move on.

We’re left with a traumatized crew who semi-accepted a half-hearted apology and a beloved character who hasn’t actually been held accountable at all. “But he apologized and wore the bell and fixed that door latch!” Yes, and? He physically mutilated his first mate, instructed him to be killed, traumatized an entire crew — and this all takes a backseat to his relationship with Stede. And what a stunning scene between the two of them in the moonlight, where Ed finds it in him to ask to take things slow. Where he recognizes his needs and vocalizes them. I left this episode feeling so hopeful, because half-baked apology aside, Ed is actively learning to vocalize his thoughts and ask for what he needs when he recognizes in himself that something is going to be harmful to him. We had a kiss, we had Ed asking for help when he needed it, we had a proposal, we had “not moving on is worse,” and even knowing only three episodes remained, I left feeling like we had been so perfectly set up to see how things were only going to keep improving.

In the first episodes of the season, we see murderous raids and mutilated first mates and two suicide attempts (though I suppose one was more of a mass murder-suicide attempt?) and these are all thrown together. In episode six, Stede deescalates a raid from a bloodbath of his own crew and sends another crew on their way with the lessons and values that he has been pursuing since the first episode of the first season. He then, in a parallel to the French ship of season one, causes a man’s death. This is highlighted as a turning point, something that can’t be ever moved on from. (“There’s no coming back from that.”) But what about the other traumatic events of the season that are treated as jokes? Izzy’s drinking, day in and day out, bottle after bottle after bottle — coping with the reality of his life and the way it’s been altered beyond recognition. The mop he used as a makeshift leg snapping, forcing him to pull himself away from the crew with his own hands. Lucius’s mention of being sexually assaulted and Stede’s look of disgust, the way he literally runs away from the conversation. Lucius never gets to air out his traumas, not really, not with someone who listens and tells him he’s safe and allows him to talk things through. Even Pete gets ill instead of being able to offer support.

I struggle to reconcile what is and isn’t comedy in this season, or what violence is meant to be taken for what it is. The Ed and Izzy breakdowns in episodes one and two sat far too close to my chest for me to look past them into comedy — and the suicidality of both men was glossed over and moved on from so quickly, never explored. Did Izzy’s “I wanna go” in the final episode mean he never moved on? That some part of him was still lying in that room with a gun to his head? You don’t become non-suicidal in a matter of days — is there still something lingering in the back of Ed’s mind? There was never a conversation about it, and there was never anything between the two of them that could allow me comfort in knowing that they had reached some sort of understanding. This season pulled domestic abuse, alcohol abuse, and suicidal tendencies straight from my own traumas and never held anyone accountable for any of them. There was no healing. There was no real talking it through. “Well, it’s not a rom-com, so—” Except it continues to be presented as one. Shortcomings of storylines of characters that seem to have been cast aside or mischaracterized this season aside, I cannot for the life of me reconcile how a show about kindness and moving on and being loved amidst all of your flaws could have a season so wrought with traumas and yet never discuss them. Never explore them in a way that allows me to move on. I love this show and there were so many good things about this season; I love these characters, and yet I feel so disconnected from it for the first time in over a year. Not moving on is worse, sure, but moving on without accountability leaves wounds unable to heal. How do you move on from that?

#ofmd #our flag means death #pluviophiliqueue #ofmd s2 #my thoughts and feelings on s2 #ofmd s2 critique

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royboyfanpage · 24 days

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Hi, I love your page! What are your thoughts on Roy and Connor's relationship?

Hi! Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my posts :) and thank you sososo much for this ask, I love Roy and Connor's relationship and I'm glad I have an opportunity to talk about them. Sorry it's taken me all day to answer, but here you go :)

Short answer? That's his little brother.

Long answer?

I know that "fanon Batfam is canon Arrowfam" is tired and overused, but I really do think that, especially with Roy and Connor, there is some truth to it. While they haven't had too many interactions in canon, there's still a clear arc their relationship takes which I really like.

I don't like Chuck Dixon's Green Arrow run, obviously he's a shitty person but also his writing just isn't for me, but one of the few parts of it I did enjoy was Connor's first meeting with Roy in Green Arrow (1988) #97, prior to Ollie's death. It first establishes one of the most present themes in their relationship, which is the differences in relation to Ollie, and the contrasting experiences of being their father's sons. Roy's the son who grew up with Ollie, he knows him personally, the good and the bad, but his status as Ollie's son is still constantly in question, you can see it back in Longbow Hunters, Ollie calls Roy his son but still denies that that word has meaning ("Roy's a hell of a kid, but he's not mine. Not really.") Whereas Connor, there's never been any doubt that he's Ollie's son, he's his flesh and blood, but he never knew Ollie until he was already in adulthood. He knows Oliver Queen through magazines, but not personally. That's why when Ollie storms off after finding out he's Connor's dad Connor's shocked, but Roy isn't surprised when he hears that from Connor. He knows Ollie, and he knows how his fears of commitment would make him act. While this is only a minor theme of those specific issues where they first met, Roy helping Connor understand what it means to be Oliver Queen's son is one of my favourite parts of their later interaction.

After Ollie's death, there is some tension between Roy and Connor, particularly around Connor joining the JLA in Ollie's place and becoming the new Green Arrow, first mentioned in Teen Titans (1996) #12-

-which is later expanded on in Arsenal #2.

This is really the first time we see Roy and Connor have a heart to heart, and it shows Roy's inferiority complex. Due to tumblr photo limit I can't show more pages for this, but I think the one I chose is the most poignant because, at least in my eyes, it shows the insecurities both of them have in terms of their relation to Ollie, and how each of them address that. Roy's loud, he'll openly speak his mind and say what he feels, and that's why it's primarily about him (that and that it's his mini and Connor's a guest). Roy openly admits feeling inferior to Connor in his position as Ollie's son, even after Ollie's death. Connor, he's quieter about it, and gets spoken over by Roy before he can actually talk about his feelings (which is a pretty consistent problem Connor faces where people expect him to listen but not talk). But you can still see it in his body language, the shadow over his face looking downwards, and while he isn't allowed to finish his sentence you can still tell what he's about to say, that Roy's more of Ollie's son than he is. They both know that the other hasn't actually done anything, but they're not to blame for each feeling their own individual emotions.

They also address the topic of legacy in relation to Ollie in #3, and how there's this unspoken standard to live up to that neither of them ever really can. Roy's Ollie's mentee, his protege, he should be Ollie's legacy, and yet he's not Green Arrow, he's not in the JLA, and he's still coming in second place. Whereas Connor, he is Green Arrow, he's Ollie's legacy, he's in the JLA, but he's a better martial artist than archer.

I wish they'd gotten more opportunities to interact while Ollie was dead because there was SO much potential for them during that period, but alas.

And now, I get to talk about one of my top five comics ever: Boys' Night Out, Green Arrow (2001) #32. Yeah, sure, the whole issue only happened because Ollie wanted Connor out of the house, but it's also the first comic to really explore the brotherly relationship between them, particularly in terms of Roy being older. Roy takes Connor bookshopping despite his own boredom-

-And then takes him to a strip club, where they have another heart to heart.

This page specifically is so important to me, because it's one of the few instances where Connor's actually being heard. Particularly in the 2000s but also in the 90s, a lot of Connor's character was defined by him being the voice of reason, the one who'll talk people down and listen to their problems, which ignores the fact that he's actually a pretty young guy, usually younger than the people he's helping (I suck with ages, I'm pretty sure he was 18 when he was first introduced which, by rough estimate using the Lian Method, would make him around 20-22 in the 2000s). I'm not saying that diminishes his emotional intelligence, he's clearly very emotionally intelligent, but it is a lot of pressure to put on someone that young to constantly be the one holding his family together. That's why I think this whole issue is so important for Connor, it's his chance to actually just be, and Roy's the best person for that. Despite what some fanon and canon characterisations suggest, Roy is absolutely not emotionally immature. Hell, you could make a pretty solid argument that part of the reason he took Connor to a strip club in the first place was to bring up the issue of Connor's sexuality. While asexuality wasn't as popularised as a term back then as it is today, the idea of Connor being queer was very present during Green Arrow (2001), albeit often used as a punchline, and while they're there Connor even gets referred to as a "friend of Madonna" by one of the workers. And while in Roy's head Connor was either gay or just had a low libido at that time, his "you're you and Ollie loves you" speech could very easily be interpreted as acceptance of his sexuality, even before Connor himself had figured it out. It acknowledges that, while Connor's good at helping other people work through their own problems, he's still a young person struggling with his identity, not understanding why he's so different to those around him, even his father. And Roy picks up on that, and tells him that it doesn't matter who or what he is, that what matters most is he's Connor, and him being Connor is enough to warrant love and support.

But Roy also doesn't treat Connor any differently to how he'd treat anyone else. When Connor says something Roy disagrees with, he calls him out

And I think Roy's treatment of Connor as an equal is very important. He doesn't depend on him or treat him like he's this pinnacle of wisdom, but he also doesn't coddle him and treat him like a baby. He calls his ass out, when he needs to! Roy's still a very loud and outspoken person, and he's not gonna change that because he and Connor had a heart to heart. I feel like a big problem with a lot of characters who enter into a family dynamic is that sometimes their writers change who they are at their core in order to have them fit into a specific role in the nuclear family, and while yeah, Roy's absolutely playing the role of an older brother in this issue, he's still Roy Harper, which I think is crucial. And conversely, Connor also calls Roy out when he does something he doesn't like!

I'm running low on the photo limit so apologies for the quality of this collage, and I couldn't fit it in frame but for context Roy just knocked out a robber who Connor was trying to talk down. Connor explains to Roy his reasonings, and Roy apologises! I think this also highlights the differences in terms of their characters. They're both very protective of their families, but Roy tends to act first whereas Connor thinks things through. Roy saw Connor with a gun pointed at him and immediately took action, which contrasts Connor's reaction when Roy gets shot in Outsiders #6

Connor's more of a rational thinker in times of crisis, and he tends to try and think things through and avoid rash decisions, whereas Roy's very much an immediate responder if his family's at stake.

And then it ends with them actually acknowledging each other as brothers!

The ending of Boys' Night Out is so important to me, honestly, and it demonstrates one of the most important features of their relationship- trying to figure out what brotherhood means. There's not a big hug at the end, there doesn't need to be. Just an acknowledgement that they're in each others lives, that they're brothers, and it doesn't matter what that means. It's cool. I adore this issue so much, I had to make like half the post about it because it's so good and it's such a good example of why filler issues are needed. Sure, Williamson's run has it's sweet moments, but an issue like this where two characters just get to interact in a low stake scenario will always be so much more impactful than one hug in a big event.

So, yeah, I think my short answer sums it up pretty well. They're the brothers ever.

#sorry this took me all day to answer i had a lil bit too much to drink last night and had a hangover until like 5pm #pro tip don't have your first shot at midnight #roy harper #speedy #arsenal #red arrow #connor hawke #green arrow

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golvio · 7 months

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Still thinking about the stark contrast between the general grim, highly-restrained stoicism of TotK Ganondorf’s human form compared to the exaggerated, rapidly shifting moods of “Yippee! :D Whee!! :DD Wahoo!!! :DDD *does a cute little backflip*” and “YOU STOP RUINING MY FUN RIGHT NOW OR I WILL THROW A BIG DIVO TEMPER TANTRUM AND WRECK EVERYTHING!” of his Demon King form.

Guy’s pretty obviously repressed as hell, and I think that’s one of the reasons he always goes off the rails the second he gets a chance to step out of his ceremonial One Special Man role. However, the fact that what he’s repressing feels so…childish, even the violent parts…I’m wondering if the guy ever got the chance to be a child when he was actually little.

Maybe he got yelled at and punished for making simple inexperienced baby mistakes the way Zelda was because he was under similar pressure to Fix Everything and symbolically parent all his adult subjects/family members as a Symbol of Hope that could soothe their fears and anxieties on-demand. (Not to mention Buliara’s mom raised a bit of a red flag about authoritarian parenting styles being common in Gerudo military families). Only instead of just suppressing everything and standing perfectly still and quiet in public while floundering in private like Zelda did, he got extremely skilled at convincing the people around him he was the mature, unflappable, strong, comforting, and eternally available collective cultural father-figure who’d guide them out of the hard times they were trying to hammer him into.

Only…that wasn’t real personal development, only the illusion of development. He encased his true personality in the superficial shell of the sexy manly-man hero that everyone wanted him to be. The second he was able to emerge from that shell without anyone being able to punish him for it, that inner traumatized little jerk immediately started lashing out in revenge at the people who held him to such an impossible standard in an effort to finally feel in control of his own life. It’s like a former child star melting down upon entering adulthood after being denied agency and independence by the studio they’re contracted with and their financially profiting family for so long, only with magic and the forsaking of one’s own humanity involved.

That underlying theme of metamorphosis throughout the game, echoed in Kotlin’s “dream,” could’ve been capitalized on here. The people loved the shiny gold cocoon the weak, helpless larva formed, begging it to never emerge so they could enjoy its beauty forever. But he knows, he knows that if he never breaks open the shell encasing him, he’ll die before he ever gets the chance to unfurl his wings. The form they love is incomplete, shallow, temporary. He’ll die if he can’t discard it. He would rather be alive and horrible to behold than dead and perfect. The people will hate what emerges from their jewel, but in this new shape he can sting and bite back, so let them hate him.

But, also, just…could you imagine if we had a chance to meet The Cocoon and the people who worshipped it, saying how much they love their king while knowing absolutely nothing about him, only to find out he had his own “secret sanctuary” much like Zelda did? Somewhere we could glimpse the soft, hungry insect of his soul that yearned to break free? What we’d see in the pieces of his secret joys scattered around and the scratches of his notes would be something ugly, bitter, childishly self-centered, yes. But in there would also be real passion, real feeling, a real life desperate to finally live that would make the handsome shell brandishing a sword feel hollow, uncanny, and downright off-putting by comparison.

#loz thoughts #totk spoilers #ganondorf #caps warning #gettin’ real speculative here #i doubt nintendo put THAT much thought into this guy #but it’s still a possibility that intrigues me

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blueskittlesart · 10 months

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You've talked about how great the ocarina of time story is (hard agree!) I was wondering if you have any thoughts about Sheik and how his story fits into the game's themes?

YES. sheik is such a good character genuinely. i think he’s best analyzed in tandem with link bc so much of their characters play off of each other. i ❤️ narrative foils

link, the eternal child, grows up in a sheltered space in which bad things don’t happen. bar the recent tragedy of the deku tree, he is unfamiliar with death and tragedy and unfairness and therefore carries an air of naïveté and a childish sense of justice—bad things shouldn’t have to happen, and if they DO happen, people should try to fix them.

zelda, even at nine years old, is his foil, the little adult. she has seen tragedy. she has spent her life ignored and neglected by adults. she understands that when bad things happen people would rather ignore than work to fix. but she is ALSO still a child, and she still carries some of that sense of justice with her and that’s why she tries so hard to fix things herself. but children are fundamentally unequipped to tackle adult problems. she was doomed the second she started trying, doomed essentially by the very adults that claimed to care for her but refused to listen.

as we jump to adulthood, link remains the eternal child, having lost no time in the seven years he slept, still mentally nine years old. sheik, on the other hand, is no longer the little adult. he is grown and he has seen every tragedy the world has to offer him. he has been forcibly adultified by the world without being given the time and space to process and grieve, and so, as a trauma response, he has struck down the child which still remains in him in order to protect her from the horrors he knows the world has to offer. this is why so much of what we see of sheik is strangely contradictory and why he keeps himself removed from the story as much as possible. sheik is governed by fear. he fears that allowing himself back into the story sets little zelda up to be burned again. he fears that little link will blame him for the actions of a desperate girl nine years ago. and yet the little girl he once was is still there, and she cannot allow him to stand and watch as tragedy unfolds like so many adults did to her.

functionally, where link is the child who doesn’t get to grow up, sheik is the child who is forced to. where link’s tragedy stems from the actions of adults who failed to protect him, sheik’s stems from the inaction of adults who COULD have protected him and chose not to. this crucial difference leads to sheik and link’s differences in worldview—where link still carries that childish sense of justice and motivation to change the world, sheik, having been forced into adulthood, struggles with the ramifications of action vs inaction as well as the choice to either protect link or save his kingdom.

that choice of link vs hyrule as sheik’s internal struggle is doubly important when examining the end of oot and the choice zelda makes to send link back. this, irt zelda’s arc, is a solution which returns that childlike justice to her—she gets to undo her past actions and save the world. she gets to fix the action and inaction which led her to this point. it’s hope where there once was none. it’s zelda saying “we CAN change things and we SHOULD change things,” a thorough rejection of the inaction mentality which characterizes the adults in her life and a literal return to her childhood at the same time. oot is a fucking masterpiece of a game

#zelda analysis #OOT GAME OF ALL TIMEEEEEEE JESUS CHRIST #asks

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viviennevermillion · 2 months

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Mortals and Fools — First Look #1 (Coming Soon)

Want to read a SFW coming-of-age fantasy novel with evil gods, two adult aspec protagonists and magic? Consider supporting this project!

Author's Note: After a total of 8 years of posting fanfiction on this account, I am excited to announce that I am finally starting my first long-term original work as an author! Goal is to get this series published as an actual novel but until then, I will be uploading chapters online as I write them, hopefully building an audience in the process! Mortals and Fools will be available on Wattpad and potentially other platforms. The first 4 chapters will be uploaded to Tumblr as well. Over the next few weeks I will keep uploading promo posts with new characters and more info! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me as a writer over the years and welcome to everyone who's new here!

Summary: In the land of Elsthess, brilliant but arrogant Dr. Immanuel Faust is doing his best to follow the teachings of the Goddess of Wisdom, live up to his late grandmother's expectations and hide the fact that he has been seeing strange, mystical apparitions all his life. When his pupil becomes afflicted with an ancient curse and the things he has seen turn out to be more than just hallucinations, Immanuel must forge a contract with Morgan, a being from another realm who's ready to humble him at every turn, and learn his religion's most despised art: magic. As he steps outside of the simple world he has grown up in, he slowly comes to realize that there is much more to learn for him still.

Themes:

The Meaning of Wisdom & Growth

Unlearning harmful narratives and prejudices

Religious Trauma

Healing from Abuse

Rebuilding trust in others

Learning to understand others

Navigating radical changes during adulthood

Elitism and class inequality

The problems with the ideal of meritocracy

Queerplatonic & Alterous Attraction

Addiction

Gender Dysphoria

What this story contains:

A variety of fun magical powers!

Evil Gods & Forces from other Realms!

Queer rep! (demisexual & aroace protagonists, a trans man and a wlw couple)

Mysteries to unravel

The coming-of-age fantasy adventures you're used to from YA novels but with characters in their 20s and struggles of adulthood

Humor

My blood, sweat and tears as an author

The Cast: Introducing 3 Characters

Here's some info on the three characters in the header, from left to right!

#1 — Dr. Immanuel Icarus Faust

❝ It wasn't supposed to be like this... I've failed... as both a doctor and a man of faith. I wanted to follow your teachings, dear Goddess, and guide those who seek wisdom and knowledge, as grandmother did... but I couldn't even save one innocent girl. Have I become godless? ❝

Raised by his grandmother, the High Priestess of Solbrynn's temple, Immanuel was taught from an early age on to aspire to be the best in everything he attempted to do and dedicate his life to wisdom, in order to make the Goddess Adira proud. Having become a renowned physician at the age of 28, Immanuel understands himself as his kingdom's ideal of a self-made man: a scholar who can achieve everything he puts his mind to, no matter the circumstances. As a result, he has put himself on a pedestal, believing that those who achieved less than him had all the chances and merely didn't use them. Fearing nothing more than failure and becoming anything like his absent, alcoholic father; Immanuel is bound for a rude awakening.

#2 — Morgan Miralaith

❝ While you were having your existential crisis in the mad scientist laboratory you call your bedroom, I took the liberty to read your grandmother's diary. The good news is, I finally understand where all the hubris comes from. ❝

Morgan, belonging to a long-lived species from the realm of Calliah, is the second-in-command for the Elsthess Resistance against the Plague Avatars. While the Resistance on Mhorunn regards her as a capable leader and a skilled fighter; using fire magic to blaze her way to victory; it is clear to most that she has many secrets and ulterior motives. She cares about others in her own way, yet hardly lets anyone close to her. With her mischievous demeanor and cynical nature, Morgan has made it her new mission to recruit Immanuel for the Resistance and, while at it, shatter his very distorted self-image and worldview. Upon forging a contract with her, Immanuel believes that he has sold his soul to a demon. It is only upon meeting others of her kind that he realizes that really is just her personality.

#3 — Mortis Grimm

❞ People reject that which is foreign to them. You of all people should know this. Still, my personal aspirations and origins are of no concern to you. Remember that. ❝

While there are several people from the Realm of Calliah in Elsthess, the realm that Mortis Grimm originated from is unknown. He seems to be the only one of his kind and there is something sinister about him. Wielding powerful magic that matches no other in recorded nature, Mortis, despite being the leader of the Resistance, is a big mystery to all of its members. Usually donning a Plague Doctor mask, Morgan is among the few to have seen his face. He is Mhorunn's greatest ally, but hardly a trusted one. Most understand that he could just as well become its greatest enemy one day.

Interested in reading more and receiving updates as they're posted? Comment on this post and tell me if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Reblogs are appreciated to spread the word! 💞

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cacoetheswriting · 2 years

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chemicals react

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader word count: 1.4k warnings: angsty angst, mature themes & adult language, drug use / substance abuse, emotional hurt, eddie is a bit of an asshole, use of pet names (baby) - unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything! summary: eddie experiments with something stronger than his usual poison and it breaks your heart, (this request).

It was only supposed to be a little innocent fun.

After a Tuesday night performance at The Hideout, Eddie and his fellow Corroded Coffin bandmates were packing up their equipment into the back of Eddie’s van. A mundane activity they carried out routinely. Joking around, completely unbothered, until one by one, they eventually said their goodbyes and headed off home.

Eddie made plans to swing by your place after the show, albeit briefly because he knew you had an early start the next morning. His first mistake however, was hanging around the rear of The Hideout a little longer to finish his cigarette before he hit the road.

And now, instead of making his way to see you, the metalhead found himself lost in conversation with a bartender who heard from a friend of a friend about Eddie’s “extra curricular” activities.

His second mistake was giving into the peer pressure that followed.

“Come on man,” the bartender coughed out a puff of smoke, “You seriously haven’t tried anything stronger? Like I know you’re still in high school but you’re way overdue for graduation, no?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, well, I need to be sharp headed to conduct business.”

“Oh yeah, because weed is known to make people smarter,” the bartender smirked sarcastically and straightened up before reaching for their backpack. “Listen, try this when you’re done being a pussy. The first one’s on me, after that, I’ll offer a dealer’s discount.”

A small baggie containing one singular pill weighed heavy in a pocket of the metalheads jacket.

When he appeared on your front door step later that night, you could tell something was on his mind but when you asked, he brushed the question off with a simple, “I’m just tired, baby.”.

Foolishly, you believed him.

It’s only a little innocent fun — is what Eddie said to himself the following Friday night as he placed the pill on his tongue.

Except the whole situation quickly developed into something far from harmless and Eddie should’ve known he was in trouble when he found himself needing more of the stuff to keep getting the same effects.

Given his… profession, the leather clad boy was often witness to how substance abuse can overtake someone's whole life. He was simply in denial it was happening to him.

You were the first to notice the odd change in Eddie’s behaviour.

His grades were usually on the decline, but he swore 86’ was his year and he finally intended to graduate so he could join you in what he called “the literal hell that is adulthood”. When you noticed a stack of failed tests on his bedroom floor, that was the first red flag.

He was increasingly tired and he was slowly losing interest in things he once liked to do — Gareth came by the record store one afternoon to tell you Eddie’s been bailing on Hellfire and Corroded Coffin practice.

When you stopped by the trailer after your shift to ask what the fuck was going on, he invited you in but fell asleep the second his curly head hit the pillow, before you even finished saying the words: “Eddie, is everything okay?”.

The alarm bells went off again when he called you in the middle of the night only to breathe down the line and mutter incoherently.

“I’m worried about you,” you reveal in a mere whisper, wrapping the cord around your wrist as a nervous tick, “Like shit, Eds, you know you can be honest with me, I won’t ever judge. Tell me what’s going on and I’m here for you.”

Beep, beep, beep.

He hung up. He fucking hung up.

Your mouth felt dry and your heart felt like it was beating in a tight cage. A feeling comparable to fear spread through you, you were losing your boyfriend and you didn’t even know why.

The grandfather clock out in the hallway hit two in the morning and your breakdown followed shortly after.

Hiding underneath your covers, you burst into loud sobs and once the floodgates opened they were hard to control. A sweep of tears escaped your eyes, trailing down your face like a waterfall.

You needed to get to the bottom of this. You needed to see him before you lost your fucking mind (like he was clearly losing his).

And so at three o’clock, while wiping your tears away, you scrambled out of bed and threw on a sweatshirt over your pyjama top before hurrying out the front door.

Because it was so late — and you didn’t want to give poor Wayne a fucking heart attack — you knocked on Eddie’s bedroom window first. He didn’t immediately answer. Of course he didn’t, you thought, it was three a.m and you were being crazy. But you knocked again and again, desperation taking over.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The hiss startled you. Spinning on your heel, you fell back against the trailer and placed one hand on your chest.

“Eddie,” you breathed, “you scared the shit out of me.”

He ran a shaky hand through his brown locks. “I-I scared you?”, the sound of his voice was disapproving, “Why are you here?”

You furrowed your brows, taking a step towards him. “You called me in the middle of the night sounding like Darth Vader. I thought something happened.”

The metalhead widened his stance before extending his arms at his side. “Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine so you can go home now,” he retorted in a dismissive tone.

“Are you shitting me right now?”

“Just fucking go, okay? I didn’t mean to call you, and I certainly don’t need you here right now.”

It was suddenly hard to breathe. Eddie’s never treated you this way. He worshipped the ground you walked on and always said he’d never hurt you. Yet, here he was. Standing a mere arm’s length away and stabbing your heart with invisible daggers.

This wasn’t Eddie. This wasn’t your Eddie. Something was taking him away a piece at a time, making him completely unrecognisable.

“Eddie, what the fuck has gotten into you?”

“Jesus, nothing. How many times do I have to repeat—”

“You’re not acting like yourself,” you interjected and tried to close the space between you by taking a step forward but Eddie jerked away.

Due to the sudden movement, something fell out of the pocket of his grey sweatshirt. The item hit the ground beneath and as you were (unknowingly) more alert than your boyfriend, you immediately reached for whatever it was.

During that split-second, as you realised what you were looking at and Eddie registered what was happening, everything felt still.

Your chest began to rise and fall with rapid breaths the longer you stared at the small baggie in the palm of your hand. The tears you were desperately trying to hold back since leaving your house broke through, trailing slowly down your cheeks.

Eddie's panicking now. He can't lose you.

“I-I uh, I can explain.”

Almost hesitant, you lifted your gaze to meet his, heart aching because the reason why you didn’t know the boy in front of you was burning into your skin, making you sick to your stomach.

Despite the overwhelming sadness you were currently feeling, your jaw clenched and your hands balled into fists.

“How long have you been on these?”

When he didn’t immediately respond, ducking his head in shame, you rephrase the question.

“When did you start taking these, Eddie?”

He swallowed his breath. “Uhm… A few months back, I-I don’t remember the uh, the exact date.”

All you could do was nod. Months. It explained… everything and you should have felt relieved that the cause for your boyfriend’s odd behaviour was a stupid little pill, but at the same time, your mind was replaying the discolsed timeframe on loop and you couldn’t help but wonder how often he wasn’t himself around you. An imposter using the body of someone you loved more than life itself.

It felt like concrete drying in your chest.

“Please say something,” Eddie pleads, and this time he’s the one reaching for you and you’re the one pulling away.

He lingers, the look in his eyes begging you to touch him however, instead, you wrap your arms around yourself, the baggie still hiding in your fist.

“Seeing you hurts me,” you whisper.

The sentence rings in his ears and suddenly he is feeling overwhelmingly sober. It was only supposed to be a little innocent fun, but he knew you would never believe him. Not now.

He fucked up.

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#i apologise for the cliffhanger #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #tw: drugs #tw: substance abuse

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nastyavolk-cp · 3 months

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The Angel of Hades I

Tagging: @aphroditelovesu @the-broken-truth General warnings: Yandere themes (next part), platonic love, kidnapping, themes about autism and ADHD, mental health discussion, etc. Notes: Bianca and her mother are my OCs, do not use them without consulting me. Everyone else belongs to Rick Riordan and belongs to the Percy Jackson universe. Good reading, welcome to the part one!

“You are a demigod, Bianca.”

The young girl swore she had heard something similar in the past, more specifically the phrase 'You're a wizard, Harry.' When she had a phase of liking Harry Potter and witchcraft, in her defense she was a child who had just found herself. in a fandom she liked. But now she was over 17 years old, one step away from reaching the age of majority, she finished high school and was already listing all the public universities in Curitiba, her hometown where she currently lives with her mother and relatives, to take the entrance exam to college.

This news, however, was one of the most unexpected things she had ever heard, but it did not appear, at least in her mind, as something impossible. Since she was a child, she has seen some very unlikely things and has experienced situations in which she thought impossible to happen, but which unfortunately were very real, she believed it was because of her diagnosis of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder that she received. aged seven, in addition to his confirmed Autism Spectrum Disorder, which was diagnosed months after ADHD.

But at that moment, she was facing a fucking satyr, or faun? This didn't matter to her at the time, because the moment he had said what she really was, with her mother present, Bianca had her doubts.

“A demigoddess? Like, daughter of some god?” She asked just to make sure that was what he was talking about, as obvious as it was, and the creature nodded, confirming her suspicions. “Whose then?” The young woman continued, her pale hands trembling slightly, her right leg swayed in a discreet way but which made the satyr and her own mother a little nervous, who looked at her with a look of compassion.

“I’m not sure, you’ll only find out once you’re at Camp Half Blood.” The creature explained before taking a sip of the fresh cup of coffee that her mother, Isabel, had prepared for this visit.

“Camp Half-Blood? What is this place?” Bianca asked, leaning a little towards the coffee table, her hazel eyes showed curiosity but also slight fear, did she really have to go to this place?

“It's a camp, obviously, dedicated to training demigods, just like you, from all over the world. This specific Camp is dedicated to the direct descendants of Greek gods, I don’t know if you’re already familiar with━”

“Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Eros, Aphrodite, Had━”

“Yes, yes, those same ones. I can already see that you are already familiar with this matter.” The satyr comically interrupted the young woman listing all the Greek gods that came into her head, extending his hand and making a stop sign right in the young woman's face.

Bianca quickly returned to her original posture, she seemed more tense than before, she didn't know exactly what to do with these feelings, she felt like her chest was about to explode, or maybe she was close to having a heart attack, either way, she didn't seem to be taking this news very well.

“Do I... have to go to this place, where is it?” She asked nervously, seeing her mother looking worried, who immediately went to sit next to her daughter to try to calm her down and prevent a possible panic attack.

“It is in the state of New York, in the United States of America.” The satyr replied, drinking the last sip of the cup of coffee and placing it carefully on the coffee table. “It is rare that we find demigods who are already reaching adulthood, we usually get demigods who are entering adolescence. Maybe because you live here in Brazil it made our search for you a little more difficult. A few years ago we found a demigod just like you, but younger, who was from Rio de Janeiro. Maybe you two can get along.”

"No! I do not want to go!" Bianca said sounding a little too desperate, surprising the satyr and Isabel with her tone of voice, the latter immediately tried to comfort her.

“I don’t think that’s an option, young lady. When a demigod is discovered, heit needs immediately go there. It’s protocol and this serves to increase your chances of survival.” The satyr explained but the young woman shook her head.

“What part don’t you understand that I don’t want to go to?!”

“But sweetheart, you will be safe there, you will meet people like you, you will make friends there━”

“I don’t want to go!” The girl interrupted her mother, with tears already forming in her eyes, she couldn't stop acting like a child who refuses to go to school, but in her defense she was being forced to go to a place she didn't know, mixing with people she didn't know and the worst part of it all was that she wouldn't have any relatives or family there. How the hell is she going to stay in a camp in a different country and how is she going to get back to Brazil? Furthermore, she had everything prepared so that she could enter a public university in her city, wanting to study Arts or History, her plans could not be snatched away from her like that.

“Bianca please-” Her mother was startled when the young woman got up from the sofa and walked away, with Isabel desperately going after her worried daughter, at the same time apologizing to the satyr and asking him to wait in the living room, but the girl as soon as she arrived in her bedroom, she closed the door and locked it before her mother could reach the handle and try to open the door, the latter had no success.

As her mother insistently called her, Bianca threw herself on her bed and began to cry into the pillows, when everything seemed to be stabilizing and her life was getting back on track, a fucking satyr came and ruined everything and told her the whole truth, in addition to wanting to force her to go on this camp without respecting the decisions she wanted to make for the life that was hers.

The young woman didn't know how long she cried, ignoring her mother calling her, who eventually gave up when she saw that she wouldn't have any response and that the whole situation had upset her, but at the end of it all, after feeling her eyes pulsing and swollen , her face burning and a throbbing headache, Bianca fell asleep out of the blue, she would undoubtedly wake up feeling bad afterwards but that didn't bother her as she could finally have an escape in her dreams.

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Not long after she woke up, she felt really bad, the headache was worse and her eyes hurt a lot, she rubbed her face against the pillow that had previously been used to dry her tears, which were not few. She moved her arms a little until in her hands she felt the softness and fur of a stuffed animal, she turned to the side and saw that it was her plush of Tigger, a character from Winnie the Pooh, one of her favorite childhood cartoons and since she was little she was attached to him, taking him anywhere, no matter where.

Then Bianca took her old stuffed animal and pulled it towards her, hugging it tightly and rubbing her freckled face against it. This immediately improved her mood. She felt calmer, lighter, but when she remembered what had happened previously, She felt shame invade her and her first thought was…

“Ah… my mother must be upset with me…” She said, vocalizing her thoughts. Bianca was very disappointed with herself, he must have embarrassed her mother in front of that satyr, or faun…?

At the same moment, she heard someone knocking on her bedroom door, she already knew who it was because of the rhythm and tone of the knocks, it was her mother. She got up from the bed, still holding the Tigger plushie, and went to her bedroom door, she turned the key and immediately opened the door.

Isabel stood before her, with a guilty look, and in her hands she held a gourd with the already prepared chimarrão. Upon seeing her daughter's swollen eyes, the older woman sighed, feeling even more guilty about what happened.

“Mama… I’m sorry…” Bianca began, her voice was a little hoarse, her mother looked surprised but it was nothing unpredictable, her daughter apologized for many things even if she wasn’t at fault.or causing any problem.

“Honey, this isn’t your fault. I know you were upset because you… well… had other plans and no one expected that…” Isabel began and entered her daughter's room, the two then sat on the bed, the older woman handed the chimarrão to her daughter, and she took it. and drank some of it through a straw, it was bitter but at the same time it relieved the tension in her body, now allowing her to relax again.

“He told me that you really need to go to this camp, that it would be for your own safety and that you will be prepared to defend yourself from monsters. I swear, my dear, that whatever these monsters are, I know you will be more than capable of protecting yourself. I believe in you, my love. Everything will be fine."

Everything will be fine…

“How long… how long do I need to stay there…?” Bianca asked before taking a few more sips of mate.

“3 months, it would be like spending the whole summer there.” Her mother explained, this worried the girl a little because in the northern hemisphere summer would be June, July and August, and if she entered a university, she would only have a single month of full vacation which in this case would only be July. Hmm..

“And would it be that if I went to college I would only need to stay there for a month?” It was a valid question, after all she didn't want to give up going to college, and it was already the beginning of July, she spent half the semester studying so she could take the entrance exams for public universities in her state.

“You can try to negotiate.” Isabel said, encouraging her. Bianca felt more relieved, of course she was still very insecure, as this was something that came up suddenly, but with her mother's unconditional support, she could begin this journey as a demigod daughter of whoever.

"I love you my love. Mama is here, always.” Isabel said, kissing her daughter's forehead, she was one of the only people who could do that to Bianca, since she didn't really like physical touch and affection in that way, but her mother was the exception, as she was her daughter. greatest comfort person, your companion and even partner in crime.

Bianca felt scared, as it was normal for everyone to feel scared, but if she was to actually go there, she could finally answer the questions she had been asking her entire life.

Starting with the fact that she saw ghosts, but it was probably something that anyone could see, right?

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

She had a few hours to prepare for that day, her mother had said the same day the satyr was at her house that he would show up the next day to take her to Camp Half Blood via teleportation. Yes, Bianca really thought she was living in a fiction book just like Harry Potter, but obviously all of this was different for several, many reasons.

Her mother helped her separate her clothes into a large gym bag as well as some personal hygiene items, makeup (at her own insistence), her medicines and even some drawing materials if they had free time and she didn't die of boredom. In the end, she was ready, at least physically, emotionally she couldn't unfortunately say the same.

Now it was her time to go, after having breakfast, taking a shower and getting ready, she knew that the satyr would be there waiting for her, her mother, in a way of bringing comfort to her daughter, had prepared soup for her to eat in a thermos cup, it was one of her comfort foods and safe for her to eat, since she preferred creamy foods with a soft texture as they were what pleases her sensitive palate. Before going to the satyr who waited before them, Isabel hugged her daughter, feeling that this would be the last time she would see her and who knows, after three months she would return to her arms again.

“Are you ready for us to go, miss Bianca?” The satyr asked, as much as the young woman wanted to say no, she lightly bit her lip and nodded yes. In one of the creature's hands there were two small shiny spheres, the size and shape of a marble. Bianca took this marble while the satyr explained that these pearls were used to teleport them wherever they wanted to go.

“Close your eyes, miss. Allow me to guide us to Camp Half-Blood.” Bianca sighed and closed her eyes, he instructed that on three, they would throw the pearls on the floor while holding their hands free. When the count was over, the two threw the pearls on the floor and the young girl felt a sensation like butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but she didn't dare open her eyes.

“Miss, we are here.” The satyr said in a gentle voice, still holding the hand of the teenager who slowly opened her eyes, which little by little became accustomed to the natural luminosity of the Sun and hearing birds singing in the distance, sounds that looked like laughter, screams and moans. “Welcome to Camp Half Blood, miss━”

“Bianca… please. Call me Bianca.” The girl responded by letting go of the satyr's hand and letting out a deep sigh, relieved to be able to breathe fresh air and release all the tension that existed in her body and soul. She looked at the entrance to the camp, there was a text in ancient Greek but she couldn't understand what it was, then suddenly she heard the sounds of horse footsteps and in front of her was a large centaur, but it wasn't just any centaur.

“Good morning, Miss. Santos or Miss. Alves?” Chiron he said, probably lost because she had two last names and wasn't sure which one she would feel comfortable being called.

“Alves, you may call me Bianca Alves.” The girl replied in English, it wasn't the best and had her paranaense accent, and without looking the centaur in the eye, who dismissed this flawed presentation and extended his hand to her. Still without making eye contact, she shook his hand but quickly let go, not wanting to prolong this physical contact.

“Understood, Miss. Bianca Alves. Welcome to Camp Half Blood, I believe you have already received a brief explanation about our camp and the purpose for which it was created.” After a brief pause,Chiron continued. “We are happy to have you here, how did you manage to stay out of our sights? And monsters too, I suppose?”

“I don’t know… until yesterday I didn’t know I was a demigod in the first place.” Bianca responded by scratching her neck, which was true, the information that she was a demigoddess came very quickly and she still didn't know how to handle this news well.

“Usually we welcome and find demigods a little younger than you, you must be around 17 years old, we find demigods who are 10 to 12 years old, younger than those ages, it’s not difficult, but older demigods? They are a rarity here, as many… do not survive to adulthood.” The centaur explained and the last part scared the young woman, Chiron immediately realizes that his words may have frightened her and changes his approach so as not to prolong her despair any longer. “However, miss. I believe it must be because you probably haven't manifested your powers yet. Tell me, have you never noticed anything ‘abnormal’ in your life?”

“Well, I believe that something that is out of the ordinary is the fact that I see ghosts, but I think it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.” She replied, she didn't want to go into details about her autism and ADHD, if no one asked, she wouldn't need to talk, for now.

Then the centaur invites the girl to go with him, she follows him while he gives a brief explanation about how the camp worked, the daily activities, about the cabins, basically saying what was necessary and of course clearing up any doubts the girl had along the way. He also responded how she could contact her mother whenever she wanted, preferably during her spare time, and that if she joined a public college in her country of origin, he could make an exception for her to attend the camp in a single month, despite showing his concern about how little time she will stay compared to the other campers, but education comes first so it wasn't difficult to convince him.

He also explained that, as she has not yet been acclaimed by her divine relative, she will stay in the Hermes Cabin, along with the children of the god Hermes and some other campers who were not acclaimed yet. But there was a moment when as she looked at the cabins, she felt the centaur's gaze on her, narrowing his eyes at something.

"Is there any problem…?" She asked, a little embarrassed and the centaur quickly realized that he made her uncomfortable.

“Ah, my apologies, Ms. Alves, now having a good look I swore I had seen you before, but I don't think so, you must just look like someone I must have known a long time ago.” Chiron explained but the subject died once and for all, as Bianca didn't want to ask anything about it. They immediately walked around the camp again, with some campers looking at them and the Brazilian girl becoming even more uncomfortable with all this unwanted attention, she used her black hair to hide her face more from anyone who saw her from afar.

She started playing with her rings, it was one of the ways she used to calm herself, to relax her body and release any unpleasant emotions from her, while she listened to what Chiron was saying, she continued to look at every corner of the camp, not believing that this was her life now. There were many sensations and feelings at the same time and she continued to play even more with the rings on her fingers, trying to remain calm.

“Miss Alves, are you okay?” The centaur asked, noticing that the young woman was tense, he had already noticed something the moment he met her, the two stopped in front of the cafeteria, and Bianca didn't know how to answer that question. “Do you have something you would like to tell me? No need to be afraid, I’d like to help you fit in and get involved here.” He said reassuringly, his voice gentle and concerned.

“It's just… I don't know if there will be others like me… I'm autistic, sir. And… I don't know if I'll get along like everyone else here…” She explained, without still looking at him, the centaur contemplated the girl's words. He was thoughtful about her concerns, but in the end he was satisfied that she had told him the truth and opened the game so he could help her.

"Ms. Alves, I'm very relieved that you told me this, besides autism, do you have any comorbidities?”

“ADHD.”

“Hm, I figured. Do you take any medication or psychological treatment?”

“I do both, I take medication for ADHD.”

“Interestingly, no demigod here is taking or has had treatment with medication or even psychological support, you are a rarity, but of course that doesn't mean it's something bad and that it excludes you from others, in reality I believe it will be the opposite, I would like to know how it will handle your training and on missions if you are called upon. I want you to know that I am willing to do my best to help and support you on your journey at this camp, you can come to me and I will give you my support when you need it. But everything in its time, in no way do I want to pressure you or speed you up.”

"… Thank you very much. I mean it." She said, feeling embarrassed, but Chiron's words managed to reassure her enough, now she was less tense and they were able to continue walking around the camp. In the meantime, she met some campers and finally, when Chiron needed to take care of some matters about the camp, he left Bianca with Ares' children, where Clarisse La Rue took her in and was willing to be her trainer to teach her, for now, simple combat skills.

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Hours had passed, Bianca had already settled in the Hermes Cabin and met some of his children, although she was still not comfortable, she had started well with Clarisse, the daughter of Ares, even though she seemed brutal and bloodthirsty, she was patient and welcomed her quickly at the speed of light. Bianca felt grateful for having achieved a new friendship, even quickly for her standards, as this rarely happened to her.

It was then that one of Ares's children ended up getting injured and someone ran to call one of Apollo's children who worked as healers. A few minutes later a blond boy a little younger than her appeared with a first aid kit. He didn't take long to tend to the son of Ares' injuries and at the same time scolded him to be more cautious in the next fight.

“I don’t want to see you hurt again today, capiche?” The blonde said and when he got up he immediately looked at Bianca, a little surprised to see someone he had never seen in his life, but he opened a huge warm smile when he realized that she was a new camper. “Oh, hello! You must be the new camper that arrived today, right? What’s your name and where are you from?”

“A-Are talking with me?" The Brazilian girl asked, surprised and embarrassed, pointing to herself and when Apolo's son approached, she was embarrassed and couldn't look him in the eye.

"Yes, I am!" The blonde stated, waiting for an answer and left his hand extended to shake her.

“I'm Bianca Alves, actually Bianca Heloísa Alves dos Santos, but you can just call me Bianca Alves. And I’m from Curitiba, Brazil.” She said, feeling ashamed at having made this shabby introduction, but still reluctant to shake his hand. Upon realizing this, Apollo's son lowered his hand seeing that she wasn't going to do it but didn't seem offended by her apathetic gesture.

“I'm William Andrew Solace, but everyone here knows me as Will Solace, son of Apollo! I hope we get along well, Bia!” Will said happily, Bianca expressed surprise at having already gained a nickname in a matter of seconds of interacting with Apollo's son.

“Ehh.. me too, I guess…” She replied, putting her hands in the pocket of her coat, she felt very embarrassed. It was getting close to dark and someone had mentioned Capture the Flag, a common activity in this camp. She was hesitant because she didn't know if she would be successful in this game or if she would end up experiencing some kind of humiliation or embarrassment, either by others or by herself. fault.

The Brazilian girl felt Will was still watching her, she had the feeling that he was analyzing her and that made her even more awkward, but Will quickly decided to leave saying that his obligations called him and that he had to prepare for the Capture the Flag.

“I hope I don’t fuck anything up.” Bianca thought, sighing deeply and deciding to follow Clarisse so as not to miss one of the only familiar faces. But little did she know that someone, from far, far away, was closely watching her and her movements.

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Bianca can definitely say that she hates the Capture the Flag, she obviously stayed on the Ares children's team and Clarisse put her in a hunting position, the part of facing rivals was up to her, as leader, and the others. However, at a certain point when Bianca was distracted by some noises, she lost her team.

She felt panic but tried as much as she could to calm down, not wanting to destabilize herself in this way, but that proved impossible, the desire she had to sit on the dirt floor and remain silent, dealing with her panic attack alone as he often dealt with when he was younger. However, she needed courage and to move forward, of course the feeling of guilt also bothered her, as she only had one job and she was already capable of failing miserably.

But patience, that was all she needed, one time or another she would meet other people, whether they were on her team or not, but the darkness of the forest didn't really help her get around or get to where she was, she tried to guide herself through of the sounds but seeing that she was basically lost, she reconsidered actually sitting down and crying, waiting for someone to find her and later being seen as cowardly and scared.

So after walking so, so much, and not finding herself anywhere, just in front of a stream but still without finding anyone, she sat down near a tree and started crying, how was she really able to get lost like that? Bianca knew that this was not a grown-up attitude, that she should be more resilient and courageous, but it was impossible to contain herself like that.

One sound, however, caught her attention, she heard it as if it were several people celebrating from afar, is the game over? For how long was she lost? Did her team win? When she got up to finally go find her colleagues, something appeared from the shadows and appeared before her. It was a huge dog and had black fur with scarlet red eyes, thirsty for blood.

A hellhound.

Bianca stood frozen, watching in terror at the creature before her, ready to make mincemeat of her, growling loudly at her, then the creature waited for her to make a sudden movement to attack it and at the height of her panic, Bianca walked back, stepping on a branch and breaking it, opening the gap for the creature to attack ferociously.

She let out a cold and dark scream, but she was quick enough to avoid the hellhound, being narrowly caught by him, but Bianca fell to the ground and she wouldn't have time to get up and run away, it would be useless, she continued to scream. desperate, an attempt to get someone's attention but she had no hope.

This was definitely the end, it was almost pathetic, die on your first day.

But when the creature got dangerously close to her, ready to attack her, with Bianca still screaming and hearing sounds of people getting close, something hit the great hellhound and the earth beneath her shook, she couldn't see what was really happening, but the hellhound moaned and made sounds of pain, as if something was hitting him from behind and finally, the creature couldn't resist and fell to the ground, revealing its back pierced by sword blows and a bunch of skeletons holding swords.

Bianca was paralyzed once again.

The skeletons looked at her with their non-existent eyes, they were wearing gladiators' uniform and had shiny bronze swords in their hands, there were three of them and one of the group walked over the dead hellhound and walked towards her, she managed to recover her movements but was left with her back pressed against the tree, thinking that perhaps her destiny was to die.

To her surprise, the skeleton raised his bony hand and gently patted her head, as if she were a scared puppy, and she felt as if he was trying to comfort her from her fright, she thought he had even said 'It's okay. It's okay, my lady.' The footsteps became more audible and the voices called her name, suddenly a light took over the ambience, the glow came from the top of her head.

When the light dimmed and many of her campmates arrived, she saw that a figure was forming in the middle of that glow, it was a bident, Bianca could see the shock on the faces of everyone who was with her, the skeletons took off their helmets and knelt down before her, which left her even more confused but it didn't take long for Chiron, who was in front of her, to take action.

“Everyone hail to Bianca Heloísa Alves dos Santos, daughter of Lord Hades, the Unseen, God of the Underworld, Riches and the Dead.” With that, everyone without exception hailed before Bianca, who couldn't handle all the pressure towards her and lost consciousness quickly.

She is Daughter of Hades...

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

For Nico di Angelo, it was just another normal day, he could easily sum up his day as staying at his cabin, spending time with Will and some friends, as well as sending Iris Messages to Hazel, Reyna, Jason and Frank at Camp Jupiter. However, he knew, through some campers, that there was a new girl wandering around, but he didn't pay any attention to it, after all, it was just another one.

How wrong he was.

A whole day had passed, after having spent hours talking with his Roman friends, he left his cabin and went to meet Will, who he had heard was in the arena area to take care of a neglected son of Ares. However, when he entered, but still hidden through the shadows, he saw his blonde boyfriend talking to a girl, but he couldn't see her face well.

“... I hope we get along well, Bia!” The son of Hades only managed to capture this phrase coming from his boyfriend and he froze when he heard the nickname, Bia was the way he affectionately called his older sister Bianca, who had died so long ago and who he missed every day. Curious, but slightly afraid, Nico came out of the shadows a little while still remaining hidden so he could closely observe the girl with whom Will was trying to have a decently animated dialogue.

Now a little closer, Nico could see some more features of this girl, although he couldn't see her face, it was scary how similar she was to his sister, she had straight black hair that went past her shoulders, she wore a wide brown flannel coat, a long ankle-length skirt with several cutouts of distinct dark prints and black sneakers. Nico wanted to tell himself that this was just in his head, there was no way the girl could be his sister, as she was obviously dead.

But when her boyfriend walked away from her he could see a part of her face, even though she couldn't see him, he froze. Identical. Almost an accurate reflection of her sister, except that she looked much older, perhaps around 17 years old, the same age Bianca would be if she were alive, had paler complaxion, quite similar to his, her freckles were subtle and she had a languid, delicate form.

"My love!" Will said, appearing next to his boyfriend, Nico almost jumped and looked at the blonde with his black eyes looking at him seriously, he didn't really like being surprised but as he was his partner, he ignored it most of the time. They greet each other with a quick peck but even with that, Nico couldn't stop seeing the girl in his mind and how frighteningly similar she was to Bianca.

“Will, who was the girl you were talking to just now?” Nico asked, wanting to quell his curiosity, maybe it was all in his head, maybe just a freak out he was having.

“Ah, it’s Bianca, she’s the new camper who came from Brazil.”

Nico froze once again, he hadn't heard it wrong, the girl's name was Bianca, it wasn't possible that fate was playing a sick joke on him, as if the fact that he had lost his older sister several years ago, suddenly, wasn't enough. Just because he got over it, a girl came along who looked extremely similar to her and had the SAME NAME AS HER.

He was just a few steps away from having a mental breakdown and Will quickly realized that his boyfriend was acting strange, but decided not to ask at the moment, considering it might make the son of Hades more uncomfortable than he already was. The blonde took his boyfriend's hand and decided to take him to the infirmary to spend time together, but he wouldn't forget the strange way his boyfriend had reacted when he found out about the new camper.

Hours later, everyone was playing Capture the Flag, after some time, the game had ended, resulting in the victory of the team led by Athena's children, but Ares' children showed concern not because they had lost the competition but because they noticed the absence of a person and just when they began to question themselves, screams were heard from not far away, many ran to help the missing camper who was in obvious danger.

Nico went with the crowd with his boyfriend Will and some friends, following the sound of the camper's screams, but as soon as they arrived at the scene, they came across an unusual scene. A dead hellhound was on the floor, with a bunch of skeletons wearing gladiator clothes with swords in their hands and one was patting the new girl, Bianca, on the head.

Then, with a touch of magic, a bright source of light appeared on her head, which gradually revealed itself to be the sign that she had been acclaimed, and she was the daughter of none other than Hades himself.

“Everyone hail to Bianca Heloísa Alves dos Santos, daughter of Lord Hades, the Unseen, God of the Underworld, Riches and the Dead.” Chiron spoke and everyone with no exception hailed to her, but due to the shock and fright Bianca fainted. Clarisse was in charge of taking her to the infirmary where she would be taken care of and they would carry out general examinations to locate possible serious injuries.

When Clarisse passed by his side, Nico couldn't help but look once again at the passed out girl, her unconscious face was really and inevitably identical with his long deceased sister.

Who was she? What did Fates have in store for them? Why is she identical to his sister and why the same name? Was it really all coincidence or was it the work of the Fates, ready to fuck with Nico di Angelo's life again?

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Oh my God, guys. Finally I did it, it took me whole weeks to write it, I know my writing skills aren't refined and English obviously isn't my first language, but I want to thank everyone for reading the first part of Angel of Hades, I'm so excited to write the next part, I promise it will be way more interesting than this part, since it's only an introduction!

And yeah, Isabelle Fuhrman is Bianca's face claim, keep that in mind, hehehe ❤️

Edit: Oh God, how embarrassing. I corrected some writing mistakes I just noticed now 😡😡

#platonic yandere #yandere percy jackson #yandere nico di angelo #yandere hades #nastya's stories #nastya's oc #percy jackson #the Angel of Hades #part one #bianca heloisa alves dos santos

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k-rising · 4 months

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8th house

What's the 8h house?: This house is ruled by Scorpio and represents obsessions, legacies, debts and transformations. This house represents the end of cycles, deep connections, power and control.

𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

These people are receptive. They undergo transformations throughout their lives that make them stronger, so personal development is very important for them. They are passionate about everything that has to do with secrets and mysteries, and they usually have a lot of contact with d34th. People with the Sun in the 8th house will always count on the help of others to get out of financial troubles, mainly from the father or figures of power.

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Hypersensitive and perceptive. These people can attract partners who have variable finances. The relationship with the mother or with women in the family can be conflictive and even toxic. People with the Moon in the 8th house have to learn to self-regulate and value themselves.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

These people are reserved and find it difficult to express themselves easily. It is difficult to lie to them, since they are very good at reading minds. The relationship with their siblings is usually not good, especially in adulthood.

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Passionate, intuitive, enigmatic and jealous. People with Venus in the 8th house seek a lot of intensity in their relationships. Therefore, they need absolute commitment from others towards them. They are attracted to danger and the forbidden. They see conflicts as a way to strengthen ties. They tend to remain reserved in social encounters and fear being vulnerable and betrayed in love. Themes related to power struggles, inheritance, family heirlooms, and legacies play an important role in relationships.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Perceptive and intense; they are always on the defensive. They are cautious when it comes to socializing, as they are very good at reading between the lines. These people are possessive with money and in love. They may experience betrayal or some type of 4bus3 in their life. They need to be in control of everything. They tend to experience a lot of conflict in relationships. Karma is usually always on their side.

𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

Strategists. They tend to get excited about aspects of life that others find much more uncomfortable. These people help others transform their attitudes and beliefs about taboo topics and get out of difficult situations. They know how to maintain control in complex situations. Benefits often come when things seem extreme. They are subjected to experiences that test their beliefs.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

These people resist transformations, change and growth. They may experience betrayal, deception, identity-related trauma, and painful relationship circumstances. They often implement aggressive defense mechanisms and are afraid of losing each other during intimacy. They may experience difficulties with savings, legacies, and joint finances. If Saturn is well aspected they will have a long life unless it is badly aspected.

𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

These people are unpredictable when it comes to relationships, since they seek freedom in relationships. There may be legacies or sudden losses with this position. They have to learn to deal with unexpected turns in life and must look for other alternatives to manage their resources.

𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

It is difficult for them to say no and set boundaries. These people are attracted to mysteries and the deep side of life. They are susceptible to having lucid dreams, nightmares or strange dreams and they like to analyze their dreams. They experience a lot of confusion and uncertainty in intimate relationships.

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

These people have the power to drastically change the lives of others. Relationships are usually very intense, passionate and complicated. Power struggles, physical or emotional violence can occur in their relationships. They are usually people who break family curses and are willing to heal deeply.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

#8th house #astrology #sun in the 8th house #moon in the 8th house #mercury in the 8th house #venus in the 8th house #mars in the 8th house #jupiter in the 8th house #saturn in the 8th house #uranus in the 8th house #neptune in the 8th house #pluto in the 8th house #astro notes #astro observations #astrology notes #astrology observations

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weightedblankettt · 9 months

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An Analysis on the Literature Girl Insane MV!

Hey! You might not know me that much, as I’m not active in the DRDTheory community, as I’ve dubbed it, but my name is Blanket! Technically, this is a work of collaboration between the majority of DRDT Twitter, but it’s mainly just an analysis of stuff I couldn’t do by myself.

Okay, and now, onto the video!

So we start off with the spoiler warning. Pretty standard stuff, of course.

Many of my theories beginning here will be based on the colors and what I, personally, associate them with. Of course, the actual MV’s contents will be looked at further down the line.

As a bonus, take note of what pops up right after that. It’s a question: Do you want to forgive... someone? We’ll answer this question later on in the theories section.

These are mainly just lyrics, but the “final verdict” part catches my eye, as I believe it isn’t in the lyrics further down the line. Perhaps it’s about the current trial? As many people believe, David did not kill Arei. His reasons for lying about doing so are unknown, but we can assume that the singer is calling the listeners idiots, because of their incorrect final verdict. Whatever David wants to do, it’s certainly not leading them to the right one.

Next, these lyrics. While I believe it’s fairly obvious that the pink is meant to represent the typical Danganronpa-esque color of their blood, the color that the word “game” is in is probably relates to David. After all, his hair clips and star eyes, both prominent features of his “facade”, are in the same color.

Here is where the most prominent part of the MV is, to me. The text that flashes across the screen during transition points. The first one, in white text, is an excerpt from Osamu Dazai’s “The Flowers of Buffoonery.” The book, while I’ll spare you the greater details, greatly describes themes of suicide. The story’s main protagonist, Yozo Oba, can be described as so: “-But the narrator, a self-conscious writer, makes frequent first-person asides, breaking the fourth wall as he comments on the quality or believability of the novel he is writing.”

Something especially telling is this line, from an analysis of Yozo’s character. “Yozo is a person characterized by shame. Although I pretend to be someone who is confident and unabashedly themselves, that is not really true. I have always been ashamed of who I really am. I created a whole persona to interact with others because I believed my true self would never be enough.”

David’s character is someone very similar to that. Someone who has created a false persona to interact with others. Yozo is someone who feels resentful of other people, simply because he is forced to make them happy. “Yozo Oba is the tortured author and unreliable narrator of the three notebooks that comprise the bulk of No Longer Human. [That is the sequel to The Flowers of Buffoonery.] His appearance is depicted in three photographs examined by an unnamed narrator in the Prologue. These three photographs correspond to his appearance in each of the three notebooks. As a child, Yozo is precocious by design—an impish child who uses his antics to hide his fear, shame, and inability to relate to humanity. These fundamental flaws carry over into young adulthood; in the second notebook, he is a handsome young man whose smiling photograph lacks humanity, betraying the depth of terror and isolation that his comical persona seeks to hide. In the third photograph and notebook, he is only 27, but his gray hair and forgettable appearance prevent him from being labeled an ordinary human being.”

The quotes in yellow are from Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Orient Express.” The full quote reads as follows. "If you confront anyone who has lied with the truth, they usually admit it – often out of sheer surprise. It is only necessary to guess right to produce your effect." I think the relevancy of this line in terms of David can be explained with his actions so far. Fun fact: Similarly to Danganronpa, “Murder on the Orient Express” is a murder mystery.

This is just a rickroll. DRDTDev thinks that they are FUNNY!? (They are.)

The “an archaic personal pronoun rarely used in real life, but popularized in fiction by the book” is most likely referring to thou/thy/etc. I’m not sure what this correlates to, but it’s probably important. I couldn’t find the green text, but from what I can tell, the green text probably relates to David’s nihilistic point of view towards humanity. Update: Bleuflower on Tumblr has located the source to be I Am A Cat by Natsume Soseki, so go check her out for that! If I had to say anything about that, it’d probably be relating to MonoTV, however, there’s also a continuation of David’s nihilism towards humanity that was also found in the Osamu Dazai references. The book itself is described as a “mordantly comic evocation of Sōseki's deep pessimism about his own humanity and indeed about humankind in general.”

The white text here is an excerpt from Osamu Dazai’s “No Longer Human,” which follows the same protagonist as “The Flowers of Buffoonery.” I’m sure you can all gather what that means in relation to David, but the main point is that he seems detached from his view of “normalcy.” @shidoutism on Twitter had this to say, as they’ve read the book itself: “OKOK so basically this first excerpt is from 'no longer human' by osamu dazai (its his last finished work because dazai sadly took his own life after publication of the book) now from the limited knowledge i have of david the meaning and message of the book might help in whatever analysis ur doing?? no longer human is about a man who never felt like he understood humans. like the title suggests, he never felt like a person. its revealed the protag was pretty sheltered and rich in childhood but experienced trauma from the familys housekeepers, but he never reported it. thats basically the start of it all as the protag grows up, he finds fear in communicating with humans. so he ends up either isolating himself and/or destroying all of his relationships with people. he's scared of people seeing the real him, so ever since he was a child he started putting up a happy, cheerful front. but it just creeped some ppl out bc it didn't feel genuine, it was more like a clown wanting to so badly entertain others. the protag starts resorting to bad coping mechanisms such as dr/gs and alc/hol and has many relationships with women to drown his sorrows and feel closer to being 'a human'. aaand the end of the book is kinda unsettling as the protag is sent to a rehab center and then when released, isolated himself somewhere far away without people, stating "everything passes. thats the one thing i learned in this living hell [somewhere along those lines]" and the book ends numbly like it feels like nothing”

I don’t know about you, but this sounds rather similar to our “protagonist.”

This quote is from “The Setting Sun”, by, you guessed it, Osamu Dazai. It tells a similar story, albeit with a different protagonist, but I feel like this ties in more with his facade, and how his inspirational speaking comes off to other people. Considering he is in his facade at this time of the MV, it’s safe to say that that’s what this is referring to.

And now, this all falls into place. These are the names of the Osamu Dazai books referenced in the text beforehand. The (I’m), next to No Longer Human, however, could signify how David views himself. Someone so sunken into depravity that they don’t register themselves as human anymore.

The faded text here is the first sentence of Yasunari Kawabata’s “Snow Country”. I don’t know what this refers to in terms of David, but this also seems important.

David still views himself as manipulative. Even if he does love people, even if he does have a semblance of care for those in his life, he views himself as an evil, irredeemable sack of shit, incapable of any emotion other than selfishness and cruelty.

This part is especially intriguing to me. David still wants to live, as anyone else does, but he can’t bring himself to find a reason to leave. His career is dead. He’s worthless, and nobody needs him around. Where would he go? There’s no room for him anywhere, even if he escaped, he’d just be shunned for good now that his entire life has been thrown away.

The excerpt from “And Then There Were None” by Agatha Christie, describes someone losing motivation to leave the island. The island is a metaphor for the building, that the students are trapped inside, and David has lost the will to leave in the first place. He doesn’t want to leave, because there’s nowhere else for him to even go. He doesn’t have a home. He doesn’t have a fanbase. There’s nothing left.

The text here reads: “If you’re Hythlodaeus, then I must be Morus.” This refers to the work “Utopia”, written by Thomas More. The book follows Raphael Hythlodaeus, a man who claims to be from Utopia, a perfect place for everyone. His surname quite literally means “Bringer of Nonsense,” or something along those lines. While this may be a stretch, I believe that “Hythlodaeus” is referring to Pre-Reveal David, and “Morus” could possibly be either Post-Reveal David or someone affected by his speeches, for example Xander.

Also, I find it interesting how the girl in this frame, most likely David’s “sister,” Diana, and David himself are both tilting their heads at similar angles. It’s possible that their relation is hinted at through this, but I’m not sure.

The excerpt right here is from Kajii Motojiro’s entry in the Kyoto Journal, entitled “Lemon”. While some of the text has been altered, the main story is about a man who finds himself suffering, and walks through his neighbourhood only to find a greengrocer selling lemons. He goes home, and finds himself happier than before. I’m not sure what this means when it comes to David, however if you’d like, you can analyze for yourself and let me know.

https://www.kyotojournal.org/fiction-poetry/lemon/

This part doesn’t have any external references, but I believe that the lyrics here reinforce David’s worldview, that no matter what you do and how hard you try, “nobody ever changes.”

The star imagery here is a direct reference to David. Stars are representative of his happy facade, and when he loses the stars, he quits the bullshit.

…And this frame. Alright, let’s start from the top. The electrocution definition is a callback to Xander, who’s referenced quite a few times in the video. The yellow text, which is from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s “The Little Prince”, is possibly a reference to David’s view on other people or himself- That nobody is special unless you were born special. However, the end of the text describes that if the boy were to tame the fox, the speaker, that they would need each other. I’m not sure if this is a description of manipulation, or a codependent relationship, but the David parallels are there. That, and the title of a “little prince” probably refers to David and how he’s idolized by many. The green text is, again, from “The Flowers of Buffoonery.” The full text is as follows. “A man crushed by reality puts on a show of endurance. If that's beyond your comprehension, dear reader, then you and I will never understand each other. Life's a farce, so we might as well make it a good one. But real life is a realm that I may never reach. The best that I can hope for is to loiter in the memory of these four days, so steeped with empathy. Four days that count more than

five or ten years of my life. Four days that count more than a lifetime.”

In reference to David, this is more representative of his true feelings. Not the asshole persona or the facade, but the genuine feelings he has. He already feels far too gone by his own standards, and constantly puts on a “show” for other people in the form of his speeches.

The red text is possibly a person dealing with depression speaking on one of their symptoms. There’s no way I could find a source for such a short quote. A common symptom of depression is losing interest in things you previously found enjoyable.

The white text on the side describes someone who finds pleasure in solitude as opposed to being bossed around by other people. It’s a reference to David’s backstory, as someone who was pressured into putting on a performance for others, finding comfort in being alone rather than having to play pretend whenever around other people.

The white text at the bottom is a continuation of the white text at the top.

The only theory I can think of for this is that it’s a foreshadowing to either gaps in their memory or the amount of survivors left in the killing game being four. Not sure.

Update: I don’t know how I missed this, but the “11” next to the suspicious gaps refers to this. It’s possible that the suspicious gaps are gaps in their memory now, being as he doesn’t remember having an older sister, but her existence is most likely confirmed, as we saw her.

This part here is referring to “Catch 22,” when the main character realizes that without a soul, humans are just… matter, if you will. Empty husks.

For this part, I had to call upon my not-so-trustworthy old friend, Google Translate! The translation of this from Latin is “I think, therefore I am (not.)” That’s what makes the most sense to me. We’ll refer back to this part later, for I have a different intention for it in my mind than David himself.

The dark blue text is another excerpt from “The Little Prince.” The prince in question is talking to a castaway, and the main takeaway of his words is that only your heart can tell you what you really need. If you were to simply look with your eyes, then what you truly need would be drowned out by the blinding light of superficial desires. I’m pretty sure that’s what that means. David is looking through his eyes, seeing a cruel world where nobody changes unless they were born to.

Now, let’s get into the next big part of the MV: The crossword puzzle. You might be wondering how this relates to David, but its moreso his own commentary on his classmates. Let’s go back to the latin. Pay attention to this reference of the solved crossword by raspbeyes on Tumblr. It will be very important for you to follow along.

Notice how there’s roman numerals in some of David’s lyrics? For example, this that we established earlier meant “I think therefore I am (not.)” This is referring to Rose. Her photographic memory can be linked to the description of “thinking.” The context of this may become clearer in future parts of the story.

III. That’s Charles. “If you doubt brittle things are broken.” Is, in my mind, referring to his memories. He has a recurring element of not remembering things, but he doesn’t seem to be aware of this until Chapter 2. For example, his secret- “Your older brother died, but you don’t remember him at all.”

IV. Arei. Her breakdown sequence should be all you need to associate this with her.

V. This is Ace. He’s going insane, obviously, because of the paranoia and failed murder attempt against him. That, and he’s become more disheveled as the game progressed.

XIV. Veronika, correct? Substance to the arts relates to her talent as a Horror Fanatic. Naturally, she’d be related to things like that.

XV. Whit’s refusal to accept his mother’s death, staying ignorant to the tragedies around him, is one of the “happiest” members of the cast.

XI. Mai Akasaki is not mentioned in the current story, and all of her quotes hidden amongst the cast members describe her in past tense. She was someone everyone viewed as reliable, trustworthy, and perhaps, if you exaggerated it, as God.

These two walls of text are both from the same source: Hamlet’s Solliloquy of “To Be, or Not to Be?”

This is what the thing actually means, in case you aren’t aware, which even I wasn’t until just now. It represents David’s suicidal ideology, from what we can assume with the way he’s trying to get everyone to vote wrong in the trial for Arei, quite well. Whether he wants to live, or die, is most likely a constant struggle for David to answer.

Which is why he leaves it up to… whoever can answer.

This is an absolute reference to the trial. The class trial rules are overlaid over the death portrait texture, which is “conveniently” covering David’s face. The seventeen here is also telling, considering what the description has to say about it!

This is what I believe is David’s end goal. To get everyone executed as a result of his own hopelessness. By pretending to be the killer and antagonizing the class, he believes he can easily sway the votes by “manipulating the public” as he always believes he’s done. By getting everyone to vote for him, he can end the killing game and his own “pathetic life” in one fell swoop.

After all, it’s not like he believes they have a chance of winning and escaping in the first place.

And here, is where we left off in Episode 11. David completely drops his facade in order to effectively kill himself, along with everyone else. After realizing the hopelessness of his situation, he makes a drastic turn to accept it readily. Someone who self-sabotages continues to do so because they develop a warped perspective of having control.

And again referring to the description, the 12 near the “Tallying Votes” caption refers to this. It’s David’s way of justifying his selfishness, with a diluted form of justice serving as an “ultimately fair verdict to the trial.”

However, David has always wanted to be loved. It’s why he even bothers with his facade, because he’s been putting it up for so long that disregarding his persona would effectively ruin everything he’s worked so hard to maintain in the first place. The repeated imagery of applause could also be a callback to his status as a celebrity, especially with how he reacted to Xander and Arei’s reliance on him.

While this does have a small fade of text pointing out that the “degraded copy” is the cover, which is not true because the MV is amazing, but. I believe this–

Oh. That’s literally it. Well, that makes one mystery solved!

Hey, look, we’re already halfway through! nice! Eden’s optimistic personality can be referenced here. She wants to live with everyone, together, and make sure that nobody gets hurt.

This is another reference to David’s rambling on about how attempting to change is utterly futile, and that nobody changes.

The yellow text is the definition of a television show, I believe. The blue text is an excerpt from “And Then There Were None,” by Agatha Christie. The full quote is this: “Breakfast was a curious meal. Everyone was very polite…. Six people, all outwardly self-possessed and normal. And within? Thoughts that ran round in a circle like squirrels in a cage…. ‘What next? What next? Who? Which?’...” …Do you get it? It’s a parallel to the killing game. Or, rather, how David views it. Everyone is terrified and scared for their lives, but they still greet eachother with mock kindness.

The blue text on the side is an excerpt from Shakespeare’s “Macbeth.”, and it goes like this: “I am in blood / Stepped in so far, that, should I wade no more, / Returning were as tedious as go o'er.” A critical analysis of the original work reads as follows: Shakespeare is saying here that Macbeth has involved himself in so many murders that it is as easy for him to carry on than to turn back. Macbeth compares his course of action with wading across a river of blood, creating a vivid image of his bloody reign. The word 'tedious' reveals the hardening of Macbeth's heart.

And now, the moment I’m sure most of you have been waiting for. Xander. Something I took notice of was that the cracks line up directly with his left eye, while his right eye is the one that’s actually missing in the game. Nonetheless, Xander clearly did mean something to David. Whether it be through his idolization of David, or if he inspired David in some way, his death had an impact on him. Manipulative persona or not.

XVI translates to Hu from the crossword puzzle. He’s taunting her, similarly to how he did in the trial, although the ??? makes me wonder if it actually IS David…

XII, that’s Eden. I assume it’s because of her optimistic persona that she is standing in someone’s way, although we’re not sure who.

For the next part, let’s say we take this at face value. It could definitely be referencing David allegedly pushing Arei to commit suicide, although this could also be something he internalizes, with the themes of suicide and wishing to be dead explored previously.

These are all repeats of the previous works included in the MV, like The Little Prince, Ozamu Dazai’s series, Agatha Christie’s works, etc etc.

Now, this is code, I’m assuming, but I tried translating it and couldn’t find anything. It’s a common encryption language. In case you want to translate it, it’s: 3aqxw97pktc8uki458fbdpfoacllex2f07bf8mg24b4mpfx2adc6v3f5yhxjd8i7sf11312zaj5lazet47jod5jczec5mvb6bz2o59r143sf2pe916sczcn7emvbl55ehe9iqb2708tt83482c8tw3c77gn47ojca634gbcfz0016s647wwlakcn46brcle0eam9

NOTE: @glorywelpchild on Twitter says… “For this, it may have been encrypted multiple times by different engines? I'm not a programmer so I'm not really familiar lmao. Another thing, it could be a type of programming the dev knows/commonly uses.”

The VI here is Arturo, but I don’t know what this means. Perhaps the description can give us some insight?

Hmm… Well, I don’t mind. Whatever you say.

Nico’s number is VIII, and this is referring to the defense they put up when asked about their intentions against Ace’s life. They claim they never thought about it, and “even if they try to think, they don’t know.”

This is Levi’s, as per the IX.

I actually managed to find the original image in the background. It’s a study on Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9’s orbit around Jupiter for several years before crashing into the planet. While the name, Shoemaker Levy, may be a play on Levi’s name, I believe this is also referencing that he may die soon. Maybe this is a stretch, but the symbolism of a comet named “Shoemaker Levy” crashing into Jupiter being right under a symbol that represents Levi, our prime suspect in a game where being caught results in death, is too far to be a coincidence. Part of my theory for Chapter 2 is that Levi is the blackened, after all, but that is in a previous post. Nonetheless, we can move on.

This is “Enterance of the Gladiators.” While it is now associated with silly things like clowns, it was originally a military march song. Hmm, where have I heard this description before?

Ah, that’s right! In the description!

These two are relatively straightforward. The David we meet in the prologue is his facade, and it serves as an introduction. However, we are re-introduced to him with a whole personality change, and that comes delayed from all the others.

This is a direct reference to MonoTV and the throne in the trial room.

The truth bullets. Typical Danganronpa symbolism, and it’s also a neat little reference to Xander’s custom weapon.

References to some of the students. The dresser is Levi, the bowl of fruit is Rose, the gun is Xander, the teapot is Hu, and the candle is maybe J?

The clock is Eden, the portrait, maybe a reference to the game? The stupid kid’s toy might be Whit.

Teruko and Mai. Teruko’s misfortune and Mai’s idealization are both key parts of their characters.

The gavel, another reference. The kitchen knife, Min. The skull, Veronika. The mirror… Possibly Xander because we’ve seen him with broken glass earlier in the MV, but it might be David and his personas making another reference.

The mastermind, sitting atop their comfortable chair.

The noose is Arei, the gas mask is Charles, the mouse is Nico, the theater mask… Perhaps the mastermind again, or Veronika again. The safe is David’s locked away and suppressed emotions. These are all mainly theories based on observation, don’t take it as the wholehearted truth.

David being mentioned again with the hair clips. The lemon has been brought up beforehand, it’s a callback to the journal entry. The dummies represent David’s detachment from his humanity, and the television is a callback to the fact that they’re on a television show.

David views himself as a snake, a liar, a murderer. Snakes are common imagery to use when referring to the Devil as well. The blood is a callback to the killing game itself.

Either a reference to Min, or the fact that all the books are empty could be visual dramatization of David’s feelings. There’s supposed to be something in them, but the books are empty. The “various kinds” could also be how many personas he puts on, if that’s a prominent part of his backstory.

The killing game is being broadcasted, so that counts as terrorist iconography, if nothing else. Dandelions, while beautiful in their own way, don’t belong in a garden. The megaphone is David’s custom weapon, and it’s a way for him to broadcast his speeches to those around the world.

The letters are from the joke comic that the dev released. You know the one, where Xander writes a letter for David and he accidentally throws it away thinking that it’s garbage. The popular toy refers to the commercializing of the Tragedy, as Veronika explained on the first day of Chapter 2. How horror movies will put black-and-white designs in their films to up the fear factor because of the subliminal/primal fear of the design back in the days of the Tragedy. The flowers… No idea.

This is cleverly disguised, but it’s a reference to the debate between continuing to live and killing yourself. To be or not to be, to stop or to keep going, but they’re both lit up. How are you to do both at the same time? You have to make a choice.

Main Roles are David and Xander. It makes sense, considering they both have full-body moments and we know who they are. The crossed out name is Mai Akasaki, but the cut off name is a bit harder to decipher. Thanks to some inspiration and help, I’ve come to my final conclusion regarding this.

They are related to Arei, 100%. The letters match perfectly.

Even in comparison to Arei, the “N” in her name starts only a bit earlier, but that’s because the first word is probably only two or three letters, in comparison to the four letters in Arei.

Originally, I couldn’t translate any of these. All I could make out was that the first hand was Xander and the second hand was Min or Mai. However. @MAHIRUMILGRAM on twitter managed to translate them! They are as follows:

After this point, the truth bullet breaks through David’s words, similarly to how Teruko is fighting against David, despite the truth bullet being in agreement towards David’s idea.

There’s also this, which could be David trying to deflect us from the truth, or that the lyrics genuinely don’t relate to him. I’m leaning towards the former.

The white text at the top here is from a story, entitled “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas.” It is about a beautiful city where everyone is happy. However, their city is not as beautiful as it seems. They tell the story of how the townspeople have locked a child in a basement, and left it to suffer. Their happiness, as they’ve been told, requires a sacrifice. “Inside the room, which is behind a locked door, there are a couple of dirty mops, a bucket, and a young child. The child is ten years old, but looks younger. The child is scared and completely miserable. It is never allowed to leave the room. Occasionally, someone opens the door and kicks the child to make it stand up. The person fills the food bowl halfway with corn meal and grease, fills the water jug, and leaves. The child can remember what the outside world looks like and begs and pleads to be let out. The child is naked and covered in sores, and it wails at night in its misery. The people of Omelas all know about the child in the basement. They all understand that everything good about Omelas, from their abundance of food to the good weather, depends upon the suffering of the child. They all understand this because when children are between the ages of eight and twelve, they are brought to see the child, and this tradeoff is explained to them. During this experience, the children of Omelas are disgusted. They want to help, but they are told they can’t. If anyone helps the child by clothing, feeding, or otherwise caring for it, then the perfect happiness of Omelas and its abundance would die. Therefore, no one may even speak kindly to the child.” I wanted to include this because it describes David so well. Someone who has been cast away because they’re deemed useless to society, someone who’s happiness would destroy the happiness of anyone else. I find the story truly fascinating, as it might describe David’s suppressed emotions and the depressive tendencies he indulges himself in.

“Their tears at the bitter injustice dry when they begin to perceive the terrible justice of reality, and to accept it. Yet it is their tears and anger, the trying of their generosity and the acceptance of their helplessness, which are perhaps the true source of the splendor of their lives. Theirs is no vapid, irresponsible happiness. They know that they, like the child, are not free.”

“How you have felt, O men of Athens, at hearing the speeches of my accusers, I cannot tell; but I know that their persuasive words almost made me forget who I was—such was the effect of them; and yet they have hardly spoken a word of truth [alēthēs]. But many as their falsehoods were, there was one of them which quite amazed me—I mean when they told you to be upon your guard, and not to let yourselves be deceived by the force of my eloquence. They ought to have been ashamed of saying this, because they were sure to be detected as soon as I opened my lips and displayed my deficiency; they certainly did appear to be most shameless in saying this, unless by the force of eloquence they mean the force of truth [alēthēs]; for then I do indeed admit that I am eloquent. But in how different a way from theirs! Well, as I was saying, they have hardly uttered a word, or not more than a word, of truth [alēthēs]; but you shall hear from me the whole truth [alēthēs]: not, however, delivered after their manner, in a set oration duly ornamented with words and phrases.”

Do you remember, in the prologue, where Xander describes the “rumors” against David’s positive front? This is a direct parallel. Here, Socrates denounces the words of his attackers, similarly to how nobody truly believes the rumors except for the critics themselves. Even Xander was fooled by his charisma.

“Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet: If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away, And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes, 240 Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it. Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd; His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.”

Hamlet blames his own insanity for the death of Laertes’ father. Just like David tries to get everyone killed, and blames himself for murdering Arei, because of his own insanity.

This is a line from the poem “Be Not Defeated by The Rain,” by Kenji Miyazawa. It describes a man wishing to become someone strong, someone who cannot be bested. I believe this is exactly what David wants, too. To be as strong and as hopeful as he is forced to pretend to be, instead of a hopeless mess who would rather die than be seen as worthless.

David reaches the height of his insanity, before finally quieting down after being basked in green light. I don’t know if this was intentional, but I believe that it represents how he’s given up on even death after the students manage to vote correctly, hence the green coloring.

And now, number 19.

I severely doubt that David will actually die in Chapter 3. That is not “foreshadowing,” that is just giving out the answer, and DRDTDev is much more careful than that. I believe this is a final representation of David’s suicidal ideologies. He says he will forget, he says guilt will not weigh him down, but he’s lying to himself. That’s why the stars are still behind him, because he’s still lying. He says he is satisfied, he says he’s okay with death, but when has David ever been truthful with us?

And he leaves an empty throne behind. Not because he is dead, but because he has relinquished his career and his reputation for nothing.

Even though he is missing, nothing else has changed. That is how he views his life.

And that concludes the main analysis of David’s MV! It’s such a beautiful thing, really, I don’t know how to phrase any of it properly. Thank you to everyone who’s read this far, and everyone who helped me out. The decoding and puzzles? Ah, I’ll let you all do that… But, maybe I can help a little! Blanket, out~! See you all next time!

#danganronpa despair time #david chiem #dr #mv analysis #WOOH THAT TOOK ME 6 HOURS.#levi fontana #nico hakobyan #mai akasaki #ace markey #veronika grebenshchikova #eden tobisa #teruko tawaki #hu jing #arei nageishi #whit young #charles cuevas #rose lacroix

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feluka · 1 year

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revue starlight is so good. it is nuanced and intricate and has fantastic music and stunning visuals but also my favourite thing about it is that it revolves around very simple themes in a very powerful manner. a lot of media that i enjoy tackle very heavy and difficult topics and it’s always such a double edged sword because there is catharsis but also it feels painful and suffocating at times (often in a good way) but revue starlight is very gentle with where it turns the spotlight to. it explores feelings of inadequacy and jealousy an feeling left out and friendship and competition and fearing change and finding comfort in routine and while these topics feel more “juvenile” they are given the weight they deserve because these girls are children!! these problems are very real!! and also i believe that we never truly let go of these complications and we carry them with us into adulthood although (hopefully) we have better techniques to resolve them so it’s lovely to see them explored in such a serious but also very fantastical and colorful and theatrical metaphor-heavy manner because that’s where my heart lies. i love how wild and magical they present these normal day to day problems and that i can enjoy them in my favoured format as a lovely treat for myself that isn’t going to hurt me.

#revue starlight

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inkblot-inc · 7 months

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A Simple Meet-Cute

Summary: A slow night at your job picks up with the presence of a certain woman in red, this meeting also serves as the precedent for your life-course to shift...

Pairing: ???Wanda Maximoff x Hyena!Mutant!Reader

[S.S AU Masterlist]

Warning(s): Dark Themes; there's no smut in this one, but this is an 18+ AU aka MINORS DNI. To start we got depictions of breaking bones (not in depth, but it’s there, suggestion of murder, mention of mutant trafficking (did I really go back there again? Yeah, but this time with a dash of discrimination toward mutants), let’s see… language and general violence, cuz hey, you know what I get up to...kinda-

Note(s): This timeline-wise is way before "The Bigger Picture". I figure after I had my medias res moment, I wanted to go ahead double back to show how Wanda and R met. Were they done around the same time? Yes….And your point? I'll also go ahead and say that they're both a part of the Scarlet Syndicate AU. The masterlist should be up pretty soon, and I hope you enjoy this one :3

Word Count: in the realm of 1.8k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

Mutants. The next evolution in human genetics can manifest at any time and take many forms. Some develop their mutations when they're in the throes of puberty or while in adolescence. Others have had their mutation since they were born or haven’t had them appear until they’ve gone into adulthood.

In this world, humans far outnumber mutants in population, and people are more content to ostracize those who are mutants, as man has well been known to fear and even hate what they do not understand...

“Table seven is clear, hon,” You turned to see Miss Monica pointing to the back area. Nodding, you grabbed your rag and made your way to the newly unoccupied table littered with pools of water left by sweating drinks and crumpled napkins.

It was only maybe a quarter past eight, but the bar was already running thin with patrons. The quieter hum of voices compared to the usual clambering of laughter and muddled conversation clued you in to the change easily. As you cleaned, you caught a glimpse of the designated VIP section of The Photon Call. There you saw a small group that had been there for at least two hours now.

The woman at the head of the table was dressed in a form-fitting burgundy suit paired with a glossy black heel, blacked out sunglasses framing her face. A muted fruity smell with a hint of something else followed her stride. She came in with two men and another woman, who were all dressed formally. Monica merely nodded toward the woman when they came in before she had Jimmy lead them to the VIP area.

Looking at the group now, you noticed their “leader” of sorts had now taken off her sunglasses, moving some of her auburn hair out of her face. Her green eyes were just visible in the lower light. They had an extra person with them who was sitting across from the woman dressed in deep red. This man you remembered from a short time ago. he came in some time after the group he was now seated with. he was a bit of a crude figure, and he’d been rather transparent about his distaste toward you, his nose turned up at your short tail and pronounced ears as you directed him to the VIP area. You’d been privy to a few choice words muttered under his breath as well.

There was a light sheen on his forehead now that there wasn’t before, now that they'd all finished eating. His scent was more pungent as well; he’s nervous now, and a bit fearful. Though his posture is upright, there was a stiffness to his movements when he was speaking. It was a stark contrast to the others sitting at the table who remained confident and relaxed, though you noticed the growing boredom and aggravation from the head lady as she swirled the drink in her glass lazily.

When the gray-haired man finished speaking, the woman across from him simply raised a brow and checked the watch on her wrist. The other woman in the seat next to her, who was also a redhead, shifted in her seat. Her aggravation had been there since he’d started talking.

The leading woman set her glass down lightly, “Your offer has already been considered and denied, Hayward. I have other matters to attend to, so I believe we’re done here.”

The bluntness and brevity of her statement noticeably took the man aback as he floundered for his words. “B-but you have to understand, Wanda! This is for the benefit of the company-”

“What I understand is you can’t take a hint, Tyler. You call me out past my business hours, which should be well known to you, to propose an increase in mutant laborers as a ludicrous idea to increase production rates for my company. You also know my stance on such practices, which is why I’m left confused as to why you thought I would agree to it to begin with. I wonder if you’re having a gargantuan lapse in judgment, or if you’re really at the meeting point where bold meets stupid.”

The woman, Wanda, remained unflinching as the older man, Hayward, abruptly got up from his seat in outrage. Your hand slowed wiping down the booth seats as you noticed a spike in anger and resentment along with a feeling you’ve come to recognize as violent intent. The other redheaded woman shifted forward a bit, probably as a natural response. Hayward’s back was to you, and he garnered a lot of attention all on his own, so no one really noticed you move closer behind him.

“You don’t think you’ll defer to me? With one call my associates and I make motion to flip your company around on you so fast it'd make your head spin. So, I'll tell you what, you little bitch-”

It was when he went to move and touch Wanda that you restrained the man, your rag wrapped around his wrists and his arms behind his back. His right arm was now bent in a weird way, the connected shoulder probably came out of its socket, but that didn’t make you stop. All the while, Wanda and the people with her remained calm, if a bit surprised.

Wanda raised a brow at the actions of this new person restraining one Tyler Hayward. Now, Natasha warned her that her own senses were going off due to Hayward’s visible increase in anger, and she didn’t need to read the man��s mind to confirm it. Had he gotten anywhere close to harming her or was even capable of it, she would have ended him not even with a flick of her wrist.

But now she’s simply watching you effectively take the unsuspecting man to the floor, both of his arms were bent oddly and essentially broken at this point. A twisted growl streamed out of your mouth with sporadic hiccups here and there. Hayward continued to hurl threats at you as you kept your knees on the backs of his thighs, keeping him from moving.

Nothing seems to register as you simply looked up at Wanda and those with her, eyes shifting between each of them to make sure they weren't disturbed. You kept Hayward’s broken arms locked behind his back with one hand, reaching around and forcefully gripping his face with the other; shutting him up for the most part. You hunched over Hayward’s shoulder and turned his head to face you with your eyes meeting his, your eyes now giving off a dull orange glow.

Followed by what might be considered a misplaced giggle passing your lips, Wanda watched as Hayward seemed to fold in on himself. His thrashing to retaliate turned into a struggle to seemingly just get away from your gaze.

"Done yet?" Your voice came out low and close to his ear, and you heard his heart rate pick up further as your hand clenched harder in his hair.

‘Please, please, please! I don’t want to be here! I have to get out, dammit!’

It was odd for all of them to see this sudden change in attitude, no doubt caused by the mutant busboy who still had yet to say a word to them directly.

You looked up to see Wanda and those with her rising from their seats, the two men moving toward your form still holding Hayward to the floor. The old man was basically blubbering at this point, almost incoherent due to his erratic breathing.

“I believe Sam and Bucky can handle things from here. Do you mind?” Wanda’s voice was even as she spoke to you. You moved off of Hayward’s body and out of the way for, who you now know as Sam and Bucky, to heave him off of the ground. “Take him out back boys. We’ll let Monica know on our way out, give her a heads up before we send in the sweepers.” Her gaze settled on you as you stood up from the floor. You felt a spike of curiosity coming from the woman left with her that only persisted when Wanda stepped closer to you.

Wanda eyed you up and down as your eyes shone back at her. “I’d like to thank you for your assistance, regardless of the necessity. I don’t think I’ve seen you work at Monica's bar before,”

You gave a single nod, “I’m new.” Your voice was gravelly and clipped, Wanda noticing that there was noticeable scarring around your throat that would lead one to assume you sustained an injury of some kind.

Looking into your mind was its own venture. Your immediate memories were a mirror of the events that transpired, the people talking in them making unintelligible noises, not unlike the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

The further back Wanda looked, the fuzzier they got, like the hippocampus was affected directly. There were some that were clear as day: The day your father traded you to the prime minister of Niganda for his own freedom. Your first days under a “Dr. Paine” and your short-lived freedom after the lab was taken down. Some of your time in mutant trafficking including a few of the “masters'' who had you. A clear recollection of the man who had your vocal cords clipped for being mouthier than he’d like. The day you escaped, and finally to the day Monica found you wandering Mutant Town before hiring you here about a month ago.

These "core memories" were on a subconscious and grating loop in your mind so that you couldn't forget them. Everything else in between was basically lost as it was like trying to look through frosted glass. There was little direction and purpose other than surviving to the next day.

Equal parts distressing and intriguing to say the least…

As Wanda spent the last minute or so staring you down, your focus shifted to the woman behind Wanda. You didn’t catch her name, but you know she was a mutant based off of the distinct sweet smell complimenting her rainwater and pine trail.

They’re obviously close; she hasn’t stepped away from Wanda’s side once. Not too many humans would willingly put themselves in the company of mutants. Guess you can count this Wanda woman among those in the minority along with a few others like your boss.

When Wanda comes back to the present, she stares at you with a new light in her eyes as they dipped down to your nametag. “I like you, Y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” She rested a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you smelled a change in her scent- no, it became clearer.

Wanda’s scent was a sugar-coated apricot with a spike of cinnamon as it accented the air around her, then it hit you:

Wanda is also a mutant.

And somehow you knew you’d remember her for the long haul.

#marvel #marvel one shots #a simple meet-cute #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #???wanda maximoff #hyena!mutant!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #scarlet syndicate au #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

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