#and because of the origin's mod and its quirks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mydearestreaderfanfics · 4 years

Text

Put Your Arms Around Me (Midoriya x Reader)

Warnings: the scary story being told does have death

Word Count: 3,001

Prompt/Request: Second day of the October Special: Scary Storytelling.

Summary: When a power outage cancels Class 1A's weekly movie night, they decide to tell scary stories instead. Unfortunately, for Y/N, they don't handle scary things very well. Maybe Midoriya can help!

Author: Mod Alex

“...-ovie night. Movie Night! MOVIE NIGHT!” You chuckled as you heard the chanting of Ashido and Kaminari as they ran past your room. Class 1A dorms had a weekly tradition. You couldn’t remember just how it came to be, but every Friday you all gathered in the common room for a movie night. Snacks were always aplenty and the room was never short of laughter. Your favorite part of it, truthfully though, was getting to cozy up to Midoriya. Somehow, sitting next to him under a blanket, talking in hushed murmurs, and shared smiles had become just as traditional as the movie night itself. You pushed yourself up from your bean bag, setting down the book you’d been reading and replacing its place in your arms with the quilt sitting at the end of your bed. The blanket too would serve its purpose in keeping you and your crush free of the biting cold that the rain had brought in.

Midoriya was already waiting in his usual sitting spot in the common rooms. When he noticed you walking in with your usual blanket, he smiled waving you over. You were quick to comply, draping the patchwork over the both of you. Like clockwork, Midoriya’s arm fell over your shoulder pulling you closer to his side, his face a light pink. “I got some snacks already, I thought you might want to share.”

“Aww, thank you!” You took a chip from the plate he had, munching on it happily. “Did they choose a movie yet?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Kacchan and Iida-kun were having a… conversation… about that.” You laughed. They were most definitely fighting, likely with Bakugou choosing some tasteless movie and Iida aggressively explaining why it wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Ah, so we’ll be waiting a while then.” Fortunately, you didn’t particularly mind, seeing as it meant you got to cuddle up to Midoriya for longer. Thunder outside crackled. It had been raining periodically on and off all day but had really picked up once evening rolled in. His arm pulled you slightly closer and you let the feeling ease any anxieties over the weather that you had. “Wow, the rain really doesn’t seem to be letting up at all.”

“Yeah, it’s rare for us to be getting lightning. Hopefully, it'll pass soon.” You continued talking, conversation flowing easily as the rain pounded harder at the window behind you. Normally the storm would have unsettled you, but something about Midoriya set you at ease. Finally, the others agreed upon a movie and all conversation died down. They’d chosen a relatively tame horror movie, you assumed it wasn’t a scarier one because of Iida. Even still, despite being a pro-hero in training, you were easily scared. As the movie progressed, you found yourself slightly shaken, hiding your face behind the quilt as you snuggled closer to Midoriya. “Hey, you doing okay?” Originally you thought he would be as startled as you, but it turned out that he was not so easily shaken.

“Heh, y-yeah. A-okay!” You peeked up at him, heart thrumming in your chest at the kind look he was giving you.

“If you’re scared, we can scroll through my phone together instead.”

"That’s really sweet of you. But I don’t want to be a huge bab--” Just as you were about to finish your sentence the power cut out and a very undignified shriek left your lips. Arms pulled you close, a familiar body heat seeping security into you. You may have clung to him while the others murmured and shuffled around.

“Hey, now. You’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s just the storm, right?” You nodded, face not moving from Midoriya’s chest.

A few minutes later, your classmates had gathered several candles and battery-powered lamps, illuminating the room with a soft glow. You’d since calmed down, and yet neither you nor Midoriya had made any move to leave your current position. “Damn, what do we do now. It’s still way early.” You recognized the voice of Kirishima, despite the dim lighting making it a little hard to actually see him.

“It’s not like we can watch the movie now. Man, I was just getting interested in it too,” Mina whined, leaning against the aforementioned redhead. A brief silence stretched on as everyone contemplated what to do in place of movie night.

“What about scary stories? We were just watching a horror movie, after all.” You silently cursed Tsu in your mind as your classmates’ agreements sounded out.

Everyone took a minute to think of a story before Tokoyami began. His story was more of a poem of sorts, although it was still just as chilling. He claimed he had read it somewhere, but despite knowing it was made up, his storytelling abilities and haunting tone made the poem just as chilling as any scary story. It also didn’t help that Dark Shadow had taken to inputting the sound effects, making the whole experience a little too real. “...he slowly opens the door…” Dark Shadow flew out from behind him, screaming as loud as he could. You, of course, practically jumped out of your skin. You probably would have literally fallen off the couch if Midoriya’s arms hadn’t have been wrapped around you, securing you in place. Thankfully, you weren’t the only person that had been startled by the conclusion of Tokoyami’s story. Several of your classmates had hidden behind pillows, pulled their blankets closer, or huddled next to their friend.

“Thanks.” You peeked at Midoriya who offered you a shaky smile of his own.

“I could say the same. Something about you just makes me feel safe and I want to be able to protect you and make you feel the same way.” He blushed as he realized the weight of his words. You just smiled letting yourself curl up closer to him.

“You already do.” You didn’t look to confirm the fact, but from where you were snuggled into his neck, you could feel the heat from his flushed face.

The night continued on like that, with each student taking their turn at telling a story-- some scarier than others. Yaoyorozu’s story wasn't particularly scary, but you all feigned fear for her sake. After all, she seemed so excited to be joining in. The same could be said for Aoyama and Koda’s stories. On the other hand, you had damn near had to excuse yourself from the room out of fear at Tsu and Shoji’s stories. Even Hagakure had managed to elicit a startled yelp from you when she had snuck up behind you during her story. She had taken advantage of her quirk to wander throughout the room, creeping behind people to jumpscare them at the appropriate parts of the story.

Midoriya’s story wasn’t particularly chilling, though you suspected this was for your sake. Once nearly everyone had gone, yourself included, there was only two left. Mineta, who everyone had hoped wouldn’t tell a story, was in the middle of telling a tale wherein the only scary part about it was how gross it was. Bakugou interrupted much to your appreciation. “You extras wouldn’t know how to tell a scary story if your lives depended on it.” Ah. Maybe you weren’t so grateful after all.

“Bold of you to talk like that, having not even told a story yet.”

“Tch, you half-and-half bastard. You think I don’t know how to tell a scary story.”

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m just saying you don’t have room to talk.”

“Sit down and shut up. I have a story that will make you have nightmares for a week.” You gulped, squeezing Midoriya’s hand. He squeezed it in response and you hoped that his affections would be enough to fight off the fear that you knew was bound to come with Bakugou’s story.

“There’s an old story that took place a couple years ago here in Musutafu, you can find it in old newspaper articles if you look hard enough. A group of students and their chaperone came to tour the city and end the day with a meal before catching the Metro to get back home. The students were all excited, they’d be able to catch a glimpse of U.A. which they obviously wanted to get into. They started the day leaving the Metro with their chaperone, a teacher’s aid from their middle school. Among the group of students were three girls and two boys. Most of them had been friends since childhood, making them all really close. Their names-- Hana, Akari, Rin, Sota, and Mitsuo. Hana was the most carefree of the group, Akari was her best friend, loyal like a lapdog. Sota was more studious, extracurriculars taking up most of his time. Rin and Mitsuo were slackers. Regardless, they were all friends. So on that day, they came to Musutafu, they were excited. On the ride they all chatted, the teacher’s aid not paying them much mind as they pressed themselves to the window to watch the city roll by. The first half of their day went well. They toured part of the city, visited several shops, and stopped for lunch. It was during lunch that everything started to go wrong. Mitsuo, who had been picking off of his friend’s lunches as well as his own, started coughing. Rin was teasing him until she noticed blood on his napkin.

“Mitsuo-- your napkin!”

Rin cried out. They quickly took him to the teacher’s aid who reacted strangely. Initially, he brushed it off as some kind of prank the kids were trying to pull on him. When he saw them crying, though, he told them that they would take him to the hospital. When they got to the hospital, the four remaining friends stayed in the waiting room together.

“What do you think happened?”

“Will he be okay?”

The group questioned each other. Mere minutes later the teacher’s aid showed up, expression flat and grim.

“What happened at lunch?”

They explained once more the events that took place. His expression sharpened.

“I didn’t mean that. What the hell did you kids do?”

They were shocked, did he seriously believe that one of them had intentionally done something to hurt their friend. Rin, the closest to Mitsuo lashed out. The others tried to hold her back.

“I bet you’re the one who caused this, you bastard!”

The teacher’s aid backed off after her remark to go talk to the doctor, still shooting the group dirty looks. The group of friends sat with the thought that Rin had brought up. People didn’t just bleed from the mouth randomly, somebody had to have poisoned him, and judging by the teacher aid’s strange reactions they couldn’t help but feel as though he was the culprit. Rin went to confront him while the others were distracted. Akira was the first to notice, leaving to go find and stop Rin. If the teacher's aid was capable of hurting Mitsuo, then what would happen when Rin found him. She returned later, tears in eyes, breath coming in panicked huffs.

“She’s dead! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Guys I- I, oh my god.”

The others could barely get her to calm down, finding out that Akira had found Rin, her eyes glossed over, and a medical cord wrapped around her neck. She told them that she’d seen the teacher’s aid standing over her body and she had run off, afraid for her life. The three remaining friends knew there was no choice but to run away. They made their way to the Metro, hoping to escape back to their home city before the teacher’s aid could reach them. As they made their way across a busy street they turned to see the teacher’s aid, eyes frantic as he chased after them. Just as they were about to escape the teacher’s aid called out, shout just as frantic as his eyes.

“WATCH OUT!!”

The squeal of tires on the road, then…

SLAM!!!

And just like that time seemed to stop as the now lifeless body of Sota flew several feet into the street. The teacher’s aid didn’t stop though, he kept running trying to catch up with the others. Hearts thundering in their chest the final two ran with tears blurring their vision as they desperately tried to make it to the Metro. Hana begged her friend for them to hide, to stop. That she felt as though she might collapse. Akari tugged her along, promising that it was only a little ways away. That she would keep her safe. That at least they two could make it out. They did. Make it to the Metro, I mean. But the teacher’s aid had too.

“Hana, you need to get over here! Quickly!”

The teacher's aid waved her over, eyes struck with fear.

“What, no way! You killed my friends!”

“Killed? I-- I would never. You need to get away from her Hana, you’ve got it all wrong… I didn’t kill them…”

Bakugou paused allowing everyone to grasp the reality of the scenario in the story and build up tension.

“She did.”

The teacher’s aid pointed a trembling finger at Akira, gasping when he saw she wasn’t there where she’d been standing. While he had been busy trying to save Hana, she had crept behind him. With a shove to the back, he went toppling into the tracks of the Metro just as it came approaching. Hana screamed. She didn’t know what to believe. Akira, her best friend had just killed their chaperone. But maybe he was the killer? She wanted to believe her best friend but then Akira spoke.

“You’re safe now, Hana.”

It wasn’t the words themselves but how she had spoken them. Voice wavering in a way that made it sound like she was barely holding back a grin. Hana was horrified, as realization dawned on her.

“You-- You! How could you?”

“The others won’t be a bother anymore.”

No one knows what happened to them after that. The only reason there's even a record of this was that someone at the Metro recorded it on their cell phone and Mitsuo's medical reports. After that missing reports were filed, but neither Akira nor Hana was never found. Some say Akira is still lurking around Musutafu, refusing to let anyone close to Hana. And if some unlucky bastard comes across them... well, they'll just befall the same fate as the rest of the tour group that day.”

With that Bakugou sat back, a pleased grin on his face and his arms crossed. There were no words spoken, no screams. Just silence. This story had been different from the others. All the others were meant for cheap scares and a quick fun shot of panic. This one left a lingering sense of unease. Sure you all were fairly sure the story was fake, but the content was unsettling and the unresolved ending sent a chill down your spine. After a while, Kiri was able to shake off the silence with a somewhat nervous laugh. “Whoa, Bakubro. That was… intense. I think I speak on behalf of all of us when I saw you win.”

“I told you I would.” Despite his pridefulness, no one wanted to object.

“I think we can call it a night, then. We do still have studying to do this weekend and it’s best not to break our sleep schedules any further than we already have.” Iida spoke, and you felt your heart drop. How could anyone even consider going to sleep now? Much less leave the safety of the group. With mumbles and whispers, your classmates dispersed, most in groups-- for sleepovers you figured. Eventually, all that was left was you and Midoriya who made to get up. Hesitantly you untangled yourself from him, tugging the quilt closer to you, the weight of the fabric bringing a small sense of comfort. Though, not enough comfort to replace the chill that came from the lack of warmth that Midoriya put out.

“Hey, are you coming?” A hand was extended to you and when you looked up to see his face, you saw a sympathetic expression adorning his features. “Kacchan used to tell me stories like that when we were younger. I remember how scared they made me feel.” Your hand found his and he hoisted you up, hand never leaving yours even after you were standing. “Would you-- um, well, I mean, if you’re scared, maybe you’d like to stay with me?” Butterflies took flight in your tummy.

“If that’s okay with you, I'd like that.”

“Of course!” Even in the darkness, you could see the redness dusting his cheeks. “Like I said before, I want to make you feel safe.”

You smiled at the softness of the boy before you, he really was too sweet. Moving before you could stop yourself you planted a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Wha- Yes. Ah, an-anytime!” You giggled at his flustered stuttering. His hand still holding yours, he led you to his room. “I can take the floor so you can have the be-”

“We aren’t going to cuddle?” You two essentially already had been laying together, so you were rather confused by his sudden timidness.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You shook your head, then realizing that he might not have been able to see you in the dark, you spoke a soft ‘no’. “Alright, then.” Minutes later you were laying, head against his chest with his arms holding you securely. Your legs slightly tangled. He’d tugged your quilt over the both of you. “Hey, (Y/N), are you asleep?”

“Mm?”

“Ah, sorry, did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to say… I really like you, like more than just friends.”

You giggled. “I like you a lot too, like more than just friends.” He hummed happily, thumb rubbing circles into your back. Despite your earlier scare, you could easily admit that you felt safe and secure and incredibly loved, laying in the arms of Midoriya.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya x reader #fanfictions #midoriya izuku #death

38 notes · View notes

searchingwardrobes · 4 years

Text

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 3/11

So this is where things really start to shift from the original, and this is probably one of my favorite chapters. I probably worked harder on it than any other! This is also where Neverland mythology begins to come into play. Right before starting the rewrite-a-thon, I re-read J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan to my eight year old. The famous line “all children, except one, grow up” really hit me for the first time. Wait a second, all children except one? Every version of Neverland I had ever seen, from the cartoon, to Spielberg’s Hook, to Once, portray Neverland as a place where no one ages. But that’s not what the novel says!! Then, later on, the book casually mentions that the Lost Boys are constantly changing because some get killed in battle or - get this - Pan “thins them out” when they get too old. Umm . . . say WHAT? So here’s where my story gets dark with a super sadistic Pan . . . and I’m not sorry. At all. (mwhaha)

If you haven’t noticed, all chapter titles come from Peter Pan. They are either chapter titles in that book or phrases from the book. This one, mocking kisses, actually refers in the novel to Mrs. Darling who has a “mocking kiss conspicuously in the right hand corner of her mouth” which it says not even Mr. Darling or her children can get from her. There’s tons of interpretations for that, none of which have anything to do with how I’m using it here. Here, it has to do with growing up and awakening sexuality, and of course - you know - actual lip locks. So it’s not all dark in this chapter . . .

I’ll stop being an English Lit teacher and shut up now. Except to thank, once again, the incredible mods for the @captainswanbigbang and to my betas - @shippingtheswann , @optomisticgirl , and @distant-rose . This chapter especially deserves massive thanks to Ro for her pirate expertise! And be sure to follow the Captain Swan Rewrite-a-thon because ALL of the fics are incredible!

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and eventual positive Millian

Words: A little over 7k in this chapter (all chapters will be rather lengthy from here on out)

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 16

Emma lies in bed, wide awake, staring at the wardrobe across the room. It looks eerily familiar, though she tries to tell herself that’s crazy.

Her new foster family seems incredibly nice. Even the two boys who are the couple’s real children seem excited to have her here instead of jealous. The mother even seemed embarrassed when she showed Emma her room, explaining that it used to be an office, so it didn’t have a closet. She hoped Emma liked the wardrobe she had found at an antique store.

Emma stares at the wardrobe now and thinks of Martha. Another kind foster mother and another wardrobe, almost identical to the other? Happy coincidences like that don’t happen. At least not to Emma Swan.

She huffs and rolls over on her side, and tries not to think about the little boy with the soulful blue eyes. He was just an imaginary friend. A figment of her hurt soul and bruised heart. Her hand hovers over her cheek, and she inwardly berates herself. It was just a peck on the cheek, and she was ten for heaven’s sake! Correction, there was no peck on the cheek because it wasn’t real.

Because now that she’s 16, she knows better. Friends don’t just fall out of the sky – or wardrobes. And real kisses are an enormous disappointment. Like Tom Pierce when she was 13, her first kiss playing spin the bottle at a Halloween party. All she can say about that is that it was wet and sloppy, and he had bad breath. Then there was Robby Eddleston at the school dance last year. She thought he actually liked her when he asked to talk privately behind the bleachers. Then she was pinned against the wall while Robby shoved his tongue unceremoniously down her throat. But a quick knee to the groin had quickly taught Robby that she wasn’t an easy score.

Emma punches her pillow now in irritation. It’s ridiculous that an imaginary kiss to the cheek has been her best yet. Pathetic, Emma. She decides to push thoughts of the wardrobe and that pair of blue eyes from her head.

She’s just drifting off when a familiar creak reaches her ears. She ignores it, assuming she’s already dreaming. But then she hears footsteps padding softly across the hardwood floor. Emma squeezes her eyes shut tighter. Is someone standing over her, or is that her imagination? Then a hand softly touches her hair, and her eyes fly open as she sits up quickly. Her green orbs meet blue, and she gasps in shock. It startles her so much, her hand seems to act on its own and she slaps him across the cheek - hard.

“Bloody hell, Emma what was that for?”

“Killian?” She swallows hard. “I thought . . . I wasn’t sure . . . I mean, you’re real?”

He smiles, even as he rubs his red cheek, and it lights her up inside. “Liam didn’t think you were real either when I finally told him about you. But when I saw that wardrobe in the captain’s quarters, it looked so much like the one from when we were kids, I had to try.”

Emma winces. “Sorry I slapped you.”

Killian shrugs. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

Emma stares at him unabashedly by the light of her bedside lamp, taking in how much he has changed. Gone is the scrawny little boy, though he is still of slender build. Just like last time, he’s wearing a nightshirt that hangs to his knees, but she can still see defined muscles in his arms and legs. His chest is broader, and his shoulders are squared back, stronger and more confident than when he was ten. His hair has gotten darker, and it’s longer, hanging down in his eyes so badly, Emma itches to push it back. It also hangs down so close to his shoulders, that he could pull it back in a low ponytail if he wanted to. His freckles are less noticeable, and his complexion is more tanned, making his azure eyes spark even more than she remembered.

“I hope the Captain doesn’t catch me. I could be whipped for being in his quarters. Though it will be worth it, now that I’ve seen you again.”

He ducks his head as he realizes that he’s been chattering on and on, and Emma feels bad for him because she knows she ought to quit staring and say something already. He pushes his hair back from his face, and when he does, Emma notices his ears. They are slightly pointed, almost elf-like. They’re adorable.

He’s adorable.

He’s also cold, she realizes as he rubs his arms and curls his toes into the hardwood floor. Emma lifts the edge of her blankets. “Come here, you’re freezing.”

Those adorable ears of his turn red at her offer and he gapes for a minute like a fish. “That would be bad form, lass. Liam says I should always be a gentleman.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “First off, if you’re that worried, you’ll definitely be nothing but a gentleman. Second, I can take care of myself. If you get handsy, I’ll just put you in your place like I did with Robby Eddleston.”

“Who’s he?” Killian asks as he slides under the blankets next to her.

“Just a jerk who shoved his tongue halfway down my throat without permission.”

Killian’s eyes darken to a stormy, steel tinted cobalt. “He did what?”

Emma shoves him in the shoulder, “Calm down, jeez. I told you, I can take care of myself.”

“What did you do?”

“Kneed him in the jewels,” she says with a shrug, trying to come off as nonchalant.

He grins at her with obvious pride, “That’s a tough lass.”

They fall silent for a moment, and then Emma finally whispers into the dark, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you came back.”

“No need, love,” he quickly assures her, “though I was worried what had happened to you.”

Emma picks at the comforter spread across their laps, “Martha died of a stroke, and I had to go someplace else.”

Killian reaches for her hand, and her movements still. “I’m sorry. I know you said she was a good woman.”

Emma nods, swallowing down the pain. She turns to him with a quirked eyebrow. “Did you get my bunny?”

“I did, thank you,” he nods, “though I regret to say that he ended up in Davy Jones’ locker. My master at the time called me a baby for having it and tossed it out to sea.”

Emma cringes at the word “master,” but Killian doesn’t miss a beat in the telling of his story. “Davy Jones locker?” she asks. “People really say that where you’re from?”

Killian looks confused. “Seamen do.”

“Oh . . . “ she trails off, her brow furrowed as she tries to make sense of the difference between his world and hers.

“Nevertheless,” he continues, “I can’t tell you how much that small gesture meant to me. It had been so long since I had a plaything. Anyway, how has this new home been?”

Emma looks around her at the still unfamiliar surroundings. “Well, I haven’t been here long, actually. I’ve been bounced around a lot of places since Martha, and most haven’t loved me as well as she did. Except Sarah, until I found out she was crazy.”

“Crazy? How so?”

Emma groans at the memory. “She thought I had magic!”

Killian narrows his eyes. “Why is that crazy?”

“You can’t be serious! I mean, she almost got me killed.”

Killian shrugs, then gestures with his hand at the wardrobe. “I travel to you through an enchanted wardrobe, Emma. And you think magic sounds crazy?”

She huffs out a breath. “Well, okay, yes, you and I . . . that’s hard to explain. But me being like Hermione Granger or something? No way.”

“Hermione who?”

Emma laughs as she cocks an eyebrow at him. “You know, Harry Potter.” He just blinks in confusion. “Books. About wizards and witches.”

“Oh,” he says with a nod, but she can tell he’s still a bit confused, and no wonder. When they were ten, he didn’t even know what a movie was. Emma finds his confusion surprisingly endearing.

Emma leans against Killian’s shoulder with a sigh. “Can we not talk about me and my pathetic life? What’s been going on with you?”

Killian secedes to her wishes and begins to speak. He tells her about discovering rum for the first time at thirteen, and then gambling with dice and cards at fourteen. “I’m pretty good,” he brags.

Emma tilts her head up and grins at him saucily, “I’m sure you are.”

He swipes his tongue along his lower lip in a way that is simply unfair, then continues telling her about letting Liam down at every turn. He weaves a story of a storm at sea where all hands are lost but he and Liam; a story that has her hanging on his every word. This leads to him and his brother joining the Navy at 15 and 17, respectively. Emma turns her head again, her eyes wide.

“Isn’t fifteen awfully young for that?”

Killian shrugs, “Some join as powder monkeys at 11 or 12,” he tells her, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. His words remind her once again that their wardrobe connects two very different worlds. She also still wonders if Killian travels through both space AND time. His world seems so old-fashioned compared to hers. “I’ve caught on fast, though. So has Liam. He’s a lieutenant already, and many of the sailors think he will be the youngest yet to make Captain. I’m still just a cabin boy, but my Captain says it’s only because he likes the fine job I do. He’s talking of promoting me soon. This time, I won’t let my brother down.”

They both fall silent for a moment. Emma’s not sure what to make of their bizarre situation. Emma doesn’t want to contemplate what it means if he’s actually 300 years old or something and no longer living in the 20th century, so she decides to change the subject. She turns her hand so their palms are touching and laces her fingers with his.

“What kinds of things have you had to learn? Like sailor’s knots and star charts and stuff?”

“Aye, and other things, too. I’ve had to learn cartography and geography. And languages, too. Greek was the hardest.”

“You know Greek? Like Zeus and Poseidon and all of that?”

The smile he gives her almost seems teasing, “Of course.”

Emma pokes him in the side and grins when a laugh spills from his lips. “Say something in Greek for me.”

His face turns suddenly earnest as he gazes into her eyes and says, “Omorfi kopella.”

“What does that mean?”

He blushes and ducks his head. His unfairly long lashes brush the top of his cheeks as he answers. “I said you were beautiful.”

Killian brushes her cheek lightly with his thumb and then leans towards her. Emma meets him halfway. His lips are soft and warm against hers, and their touch makes her heart soar in her chest. This is what she had always imagined a kiss should be. It’s nothing like kissing Tom Pierce or Robby Eddleston. Killian tilts his head to deepen the kiss as his fingers thread through her hair, and Emma sighs into it. When he pulls back, his eyes are a midnight blue as he rests his forehead against hers.

“The thoughts I’m having right now aren’t very gentlemanly,” he confesses huskily.

Emma chuckles. “Good,” she tells him, thumbing his lower lip, still moist from their kiss.

A bright shaft of light falls across her bed and Emma groans. Killian cups her face in both his hands. “I wish I could stay, but –“

“Your brother,” she finishes for him. She looks long into his eyes. “I get it. You’re all each other has.”

Killian nods and brushes one more brief kiss across her lips as he rises from the bed. He bows to her, taking her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles. She giggles, and he gives her a slightly roguish smile.

The last thing she sees before he disappears inside the wardrobe is the look of longing in his blue eyes.

“They remind me of Martha’s forget-me-nots,” she thinks to herself, “but sad, too.”

Killian: Age 16

“Get up here, little brother!”

Killian grabs his naval jacket and dashes up the ladder to the deck, grumbling under his breath about it being “younger” brother not “little.” It especially bothers him when Liam is speaking as Lieutenant Jones and not just family. Yet it seems Liam isn’t the only one loose with naval order at the moment. When Killian climbs out of the hold, he finds the rest of the crew chattering excitedly, gazes tilted upward.

“Killian!” Liam calls, racing to his side. “You almost missed the excitement!”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure, but the captain gave me a new sextant to plot our course, and it uses star charts I’ve never seen before.”

Killian’s eyes scan the ship’s deck, his eyes landing on the men wrestling to hoist an unusual sail. He blinks, thinking surely he must be seeing things, but as the sail rises, he finds it is, in fact, made of feathers. In the center of it is the symbol of a horse with wings.

“This sail,” Captain Roberts announces from his place on the quarter deck, “is made of feathers from the wings of the famous mythical horse Pegasus.”

“Captain!” the gunman shouts breathlessly. “Enemy ships off the port bow!”

The Captain ignores the announcement and turns to Liam Jones. “Lieutenant, plot our course!”

“Should we prep the canons, sir?” the gunman asks, confusion clear on his face.

“There will be no need,” Captain Roberts dismisses with a mysterious smile, “where we are headed, they can not follow.”

Killian glances at his brother, who heads for the ship’s wheel, but Liam looks just as confused as he. Killian rushes to the railing along with several other men of lower rank. They lean forward to watch the cannonballs from the enemy splash with a mighty roar into the water a safe distance away: warning shots.

Killian almost loses his balance as the Jewel of the Realm creaks and sways, his stomach dropping. His eyes widen as he sees the ocean fall away below. He and the rest of the men gasp as the reality sets in - the Jewel is airborne.

“Quit gaping and man your stations!” Captain Roberts shouts. “We’re heading to Neverland!”

There’s a quiet murmur after the announcement, even as the men scatter to their duties. Most have never heard of such a realm, while others whisper excitedly of a place they once visited in their dreams as children. The whispered tales seem far-fetched to Killian: a place where your dreams come true, where you can eat chocolate cake all day long, swim with mermaids, and even fly? Even at ten, he would never have believed it.

Of course, a magic wardrobe that takes you to the girl of your dreams seems far-fetched, he supposes. He grins as he remembers Emma’s lips on his, her soft cheeks beneath his calloused fingers, her silken hair tickling his jaw. He has to find a way to get back to her - hopefully tonight. He isn’t sure what this mysterious mission is all about, but surely the captain’s personal cabin boy won’t be needed for whatever it is. He only has to figure out a way to sneak into Captain Roberts’ quarters when the man isn’t there -

“Killian!”

He startles at the sound of his name, and Liam chuckles, clapping a hand to Killian’s shoulder. “Everyone else is mesmerized by our journey to the skies, yet here you are daydreaming.” Liam cocks his head as he regards his younger brother. “Oh no, it’s a lass, isn’t it?”

Killian blushes as he shrugs and returns to his work. “I’m just thinking.”

“If you say so,” Liam laughs as he tugs on Killian’s arm, “but don’t let your brooding cause you to miss this.”

Killian lets his brother drag him over to the railing. The ship cuts cleanly through the white, billowy clouds, with none of the swaying he’s become used to at sea. The air is crisp and a bit cold this high, and a particularly thick cloud suddenly envelopes them.

“Incredible,” Killian whispers.

“Brother, look,” Liam whispers back.

The clouds part, and the Jones brothers gasp as the world of blue and white becomes dark and gray. An island shimmers in the distance, surrounded by a blue-tinged glow. They lean further over the railing as the ship dips and begins its descent.

The Jewel of the Realm has arrived in Neverland.

******************************************

In front of Killian, over his brother’s shoulder, is an inviting beach with palm trees that sway in the warm breeze. Behind him, the Jewel of the Realm is shrouded in an unnatural fog.

“Don’t worry, little brother, it’s a simple mission.”

Killian doesn’t even bother correcting him on the “little” part. “Aren’t you the least bit suspicious? A ship full of navy men, yet only two boys can fulfill this task?”

Liam narrows his eyes. “At eighteen I am hardly a boy.”

Killian chuckles. “You better hope you’re wrong if the superstitions of the rest of the crew are to be believed.”

Liam scoffs. “I think it has more to do with the simplicity of the task. We get the plant, row back to the ship, and we’re heroes.”

Killian hopes his brother is right. Captain Roberts had Killian in mind all along to retrieve the plant, but it was supposed to be twelve year old Jim Hawkins in the row boat, not Liam. Unfortunately, the lad had broken his leg and had to be left behind at the last port. Killian tries to tell himself that the captain is just being cautious, like Liam said, tries to agree with his older brother that the tales about this place are just stories nursemaids tell to their charges at bedtime. Shadows that take you away to the island in your dreams, pixies who blow their dust on children to make them fly, mermaids that drag lazy children to their deaths - it’s all surely nonsense.

They beach the row boat, and Liam slings his satchel over his shoulder. Inside is a sketch of the plant they are looking for. Killian narrows his eyes at the shadowy jungle before them. How are they ever to find one single plant in all this vegetation?

He and Liam hear the movement at the same exact moment and spin as they draw their swords. Standing before them on the beach is a lad about Killian’s age, dressed in a tunic made of green leaves and breeches crudely made of animal skins. The smile he gives them is full of mischief and something a bit more sinister. Killian’s spine crackles with suspicion. He glances at Liam, and it’s clear his brother doesn’t see the boy as a threat at all as the elder Jones casually lowers his sword.

“Is there a king on this island, boy?”

The lad smirks. “Just me.”

Killian narrows his eyes, and the boy glances his way with a knowing grin. Liam pulls the sketch out of his satchel.

“We’re looking for this plant, do you know it?”

The boy’s eyes widen. “Dreamshade? Of course I know it. Believe me, you don’t want to mess with it. It’s the deadliest poison.”

Liam scoffs. “It isn’t poison, it’s medicine.”

The boy crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head. “Who told you that?”

“My captain.”

“He lied. This captain must be quite the ruthless killer. Nothing causes suffering like dreamshade.”

“What’s your name?” Killian asks.

“Killian, don’t waste your time, he’s just a child.”

Killian’s jaw clenches. “I’m about his age. Am I just a child?”

“My name is Peter,” the boy tells them, a gleeful laugh spilling out of him, “and if you’re tired of them trying to turn you into men, you can come and play with me and my lost boys.”

“We don’t have time for games,” Liam mutters.

“Suit yourself,” Peter tells them with a shrug, “if it’s dreamshade you seek, then you’ll have no trouble finding it.”

Then, with a crowing laugh, and to the utter amazement of both Jones boys, Peter launches himself into the sky and speeds away upon the clouds back into the recesses of the forest.

“Okay,” Killian says slowly, “clearly that particular rumor was true.”

“Let’s just get this plant and get the bloody hell out of here.”

“I agree to the getting out of here part, but maybe we should proceed with caution about the plant.”

Liam’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Surely you don’t believe that boy over our own captain.”

Killian’s eyes narrow. “I’ve never trusted Captain Roberts completely, and besides, Peter is a native of this island. Perhaps we should -”

“Killian,” Liam cuts him off, “you don’t trust anyone.”

The smile his brother gives him softens the words, and Killian smiles back. “I trust you.”

“Then trust me in this,” Liam says with a slap to Killian’s shoulder. “Without order, without discipline to your superiors, this navy life won’t work.”

Killian wonders, not for the first time, if that’s the very reason this navy idea is a better fit for Liam than it is for him. Nevertheless, he sighs in resignation. “I’d follow you anywhere, brother, you know that.”

And with a nod of understanding and trust, the two of them plunge into the deep woods. The jungle is dark and damp, and Killian only has the trust in his brother’s navigational skills and his compass to find the way. Killian grips said compass in his sweaty hand, pushing aside the tendrils of fear that seek to grip his heart. There’s something ominous in this jungle, and he has the feeling they’re being watched.

Liam squints down at the sketch in his hand. “I thought the boy said this plant was abundant here.”

“Perhaps we’ve -”

Before Killian can finish his sentence, a crowing shout fills the air, and filthy boys drop from the branches above them and burst from the thick foliage on all sides. Some have arrows notched to the bows they carry, others have spears resting upon their shoulders, while still others grip daggers in their fists. All of them have smeared their faces with mud and are garbed in either bits and pieces of the nature around them or tattered remains of clothing. They snarl and gnash their teeth more like animals than humans. He and Liam pull out their swords, but they are completely surrounded. Some of the boys only reach as high as Killian’s hip, clearly only eight or nine at the most. The last thing he wants to do is kill children, even if they do appear savage. The circle of boys part to allow their leader through.

“May I introduce you to my lost boys,” Peter grins. “This island is ours with no grown ups to tell us what to do.”

Liam shakes his head. “All we want is the plant. We told you.”

Peter tilts his head as he steps closer. “You’ve already grown up.” He turns to Killian. “But you - you could join my crew. I can tell you like to play.”

For one, dreamlike moment, Killian wants to tell Peter yes. No expectations, no responsibilities - it sounds wonderful. Playing sounds nice, too. He hasn’t played since his mother passed, and when was that? How old was he? He can’t remember anymore. The parents who were supposed to be there for you and protect your innocence left, leaving you at the mercy of rough hands and sinister eyes. Grown ups were the people who stole your childhood, who tossed your plaything into the deep, dark sea. He thinks of the stuffed rabbit Emma gave him, pure white and soft, bobbing farther and farther away from him. His mind can almost see it, with that bright pink ribbon. His heart beats wildly, he sways where he stands, and -

Liam steps closer, his shoulder brushing up against Killian, and it’s that contact that snaps the sixteen year old out of it. Yes, his brother. He can’t let Liam down.

“Never.”

He expects Peter to scoff, get angry, or turn on him. Instead, his gaze takes him in and a slow, sinister smile plays across his face.

“We’ll see.”

Casually, Peter turns to one of his crew and takes the spear the lad holds. With a subtle gesture, he gives the boys a command, and they all relax their postures, holding their weapons loosely. Pan spins the spear playfully as he turns back to Lieutenant Jones.

“You still trust your captain, lieutenant?”

“Always,” Liam insists.

Peter lifts the spear and taps it gently against Liam’s chest. “Let’s test that, shall we? That plant you seek? The tip of this spear has been coated with its sap. Your captain says it is medicine, I say it’s poison. Who should you trust?”

“Liam,” Killian pleads.

Liam lifts his hand to still his brother. “I have no reason to trust you, boy.”

Peter’s eyes flash with a mixture of bloodlust and glee as he slashes the spear brutally across Liam’s chest. Liam cries out and stumbles to his knees, hand to his chest as blood stains his shirt. Killian shouts and falls to the ground beside his brother.

“Just a scratch,” Pan laughs, practically bouncing around them. The lost boys join in his revelry, spinning and giggling maniacally.

Liam groans and falls back, his body shaking. Killian catches him in his lap. Through the gash in his shirt, the wound on Liam’s chest is turning black around the edges and vines of black extend outward, spreading across his torso.

“What’s happening to him?” Killian shouts at Peter.

“Dreamshade poison. I told you. He’ll be dead in minutes.”

Killian goes pale as he looks at the boy in shock. It isn’t so much the casual way he spoke the words, but the spots of red in his eyes and the pleasure curling his lips.

“K-Killian,” Liam gasps, reaching towards his little brother with a trembling hand. Killian takes it and clasps it as tears stream down his face.

“Stay with me, brother,” Killian weeps, then he looks frantically at Peter. “Save him! Please!”

The boy shakes his head. “No one can be saved from dreamshade.”

“Killian,” Liam says again, wincing against the pain, “I’m sorry, little brother. I’m so sor-”

His voice cuts off and he goes limp in Killian’s arms, his hand slipping out of its hold and falling to the ground.

“No!” Killian screams. “No, no, no!”

He cradles Liam’s still form to his chest, rocking back and forth. Sobs wrack his body. He doesn’t know if the lost boys are still there or what they are doing. The whole world could fall apart and he wouldn’t notice.

“It’s a shame, really. I tried to warn him.”

Killian’s head snaps up at the sound of Pan’s voice. Anger fills his veins, but when he speaks, only despair colors his words. “He was all that I had.”

“I know,” Pan replies in a voice that almost sounds sympathetic. He crouches down next to where Killian still clutches his brother’s form. “And now that he’s gone, you finally have the look that all my lost boys share. The look of someone who is completely and utterly alone. An orphan.”

********************************************

Killian watches Pan through the flickering flames of the campfire. The branch of a sapling rests in Killian’s lap, and his fingers twist a vine around each end to make a bow. Pan plays a song on his pipes, and several of the lost boys dance about to its melody. The song calls Killian, urging him to cast aside his pain and join the dance.

But he won’t let himself.

He squints up at the sun. He guesses it’s been about thirty three hours and . . . around twenty minutes since the lost boys tossed Liam’s body into the sea. Thirty three hours and twenty minutes without Liam. His entire life, Liam has been there, and now he’s gone.

Yesterday at dawn, he snuck down to the beach. The rowboat was still there, but the Jewel of the Realm was no longer a hulking form shrouded in the fog. He had taken the rowboat out - not for long and not far - and the ship was nowhere near shore. Surely they hadn’t flown away on the Pegasus sail. Surely they would wait longer than that before giving up on the Jones brothers. He guessed they had simply sailed out of sight or found a cove to hide in. Yet despite his hopes, it’s obvious that his captain cares little for mere boys. No search party has been sent, and Killian doubts it ever will.

Peter reminds him often that Liam’s death is the captain’s fault. The fault of every grown up on that ship, actually. They never cared about you. They never believed in you. Did you really think they would let you be a hero? There’s truth to Pan’s words, Killian knows this, and he’d be lying if he said hatred for his captain didn’t burn within his breast. But he’ll also never forget that it was Pan who sliced the spear laced with dreamshade across his brother’s chest. He’ll never forget Pan’s gleeful smile of satisfaction or the spots of red in his eyes as Liam’s blood seeped his naval shirt.

Killian eyes Pan across the fire now. The dance has reached a feverish pitch, and Killian already knows, in just thirty three hours as a lost boy, that the dance will soon fall apart into a wrestling match. Killian also knows that his only hope for survival is to play the part of a lost boy. Yet despite the naval blue ripped at the knees, despite the way he crowed when they set his naval jacket on fire, despite the mud smeared across his cheeks, Killian will never stop hating Peter Pan.

“Has Peter showed you how to lace that with dreamshade?”

Killian turns to the boy who has plopped down next to him. They all have names, but he can’t remember this one. His black hair is curled tightly against his head, his teeth seem white despite their filthiness against his dark skin. Freckles are barely visible across the bridge of his nose, and his brown eyes seem different somehow from the other boys.

“You forgot my name already didn’t, you?” he chuckles. “It’s Starkey.”

“Right,” Killian mutters, biting off the end of the vine that holds the arrowhead in place.

“There’s a trick to the dreamshade so you don’t nick yourself,” Starkey continues despite Killian’s unfriendliness. “Pan doesn’t always warn the boys. Thinks it’s funny.”

Killian casts a curious glance Starkey’s way. There’s definitely something in those mahogany eyes . . .

“He’s a bit sadistic, isn’t he?” Starkey asks, and Killian gets the impression he’s testing the waters somehow. The lad swallows, glancing nervously to where Peter is crowing over the inevitable wrestling match. “All boys but one grow up,” Starkey almost whispers.

Killian’s heart beats faster as he stares into the flames. “You mean,” he whispers back, not looking at his companion, “the others do?”

“I’m near thinning time,” Starkey replies, “so are Nibs and . Some are oblivious though. Ruffio, for example, he’ll no doubt stay faithful to the bitter end. I hate the look in their eyes when we turn on them.”

Killian turns his head in shock, but Starkey is slipping away into the jungle already. Starkey has obviously told him these things for a reason. But why?

As the next few weeks go by, he and Starkey have more whispered conversations, and Killian is surprised how quickly they become friends. Starkey’s tale is similar to his own, having spent time as a slave on a schooner. The only difference is that his parents were murdered and he was kidnapped, a trauma that Killian is sadly able to imagine now that Liam bled out in his arms.

Slowly, as the days go by, Starkey brings more boys into his confidence: Nibs, first, then Jooks, Noodler, Cecco, and Curly.

A hunting crew returns with a boar to roast, and that night there is a feast and a wild rumpus to follow. Though there is no alcohol, the whole thing reminds Killian of how he used to act when he’d drink too much rum. Killian feasts, he dances, even plasters a smile upon his face, but it’s all a show for Peter Pan. He can’t stop thinking of his brother for one, but there’s also Starkey’s cryptic words : thinning time.

Killian plops down, exhausted, and grabs a coconut to guzzle some of its milk. As he swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, he sees Pan at his side, leaning forward and scrutinizing his face. It takes all of Killian’s willpower not to startle back. For a long moment Peter studies him, and it causes a chill to run down Killian’s spine. When Pan finally speaks, his voice holds barely contained anger and a trace of shock.

“You have a mocking kiss in the corner of your mouth.”

Killian blinks. “Wh-what are you talking about?” His mind goes to Emma, of course, not that she is ever far from his thoughts. Especially now with Liam gone, he longs for the wardrobe in Captain Roberts’ cabin and fears he may never see it again.

“There,” Pan accuses, pointing with a dirty finger, “perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner. How did I not see it before?”

Killian glances around nervously as the party noises have gone silent. Several lost boys have drawn closer, concern furrowing their brows.

“He has a kiss, Peter?” one of the boys asks.

“Kisses are dangerous!” another one gasps.

“Yes,” Peter answers, his eyes narrowing with a faint glimmer of red, “a mocking kiss, and one he’s very fond of too.”

Killian swallows hard as he rises to his feet. The lost boys seem to be closing the noose around him, and he looks around frantically. There seems to be no choice but to fess up, hope for mercy, though Peter doesn’t seem the merciful type.

“So I’ve kissed lasses. So what? I’m 16!”

“No,” Pan hisses, “not lasses. One lass. A special lass.”

Killian clenches both fists, his face flushing at the way Pan spits out the words. Emma is special, and he won’t deny it. Ever.

“We don’t like girls,” Peter snarls, “they fancy themselves your mother, making you wash before meals and putting you to bed at a proper time.”

Killian narrows his eyes. “Um . . . I think you’re a bit confused.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He couldn’t help his sass, has rarely been able to help it.

“Your brother was obvious. He’d already chosen to grow up. But you, you tricked me. You can’t be a lost boy with that kiss always mocking me.”

Killian knows a heartbeat before it happens that the lost boys will fall upon him. What he doesn’t expect is to find his old naval sword in his hand or for Starkey, Nibs, and several others to fall in line just behind him. He glances at Starkey right before the two sides clash, and the other boy winks at him knowingly.

Those on Killian’s side are all older, but they are fewer in number. And Starkey was right, not all the other boys close to thinning time are willing to turn on their leader. Rufio is the oldest and fiercest fighter, his loyalty to Pan clear in his gaze and his willingness to die. Killian guesses he is seventeen, and he’s broader and taller than Killian. Nevertheless, Killian has naval training with a sword. He holds back, however, unwilling to slaughter little boys, no matter the situation. Yet when he finds himself face to face, blade to blade, with Rufio, something shifts. Pan may not want his boys to grow up, but Rufio fights like a man. Unrefined and a bit desperate, but with strength and muscle behind it.

All skirmishes cease as the sound of the blades clashing draws everyone’s attention. Ruffio fights dirty while Killian has been taught to fight like a gentleman. At first, Rufio’s style seems to be winning when he trips Killian then flings sand in his face. Yet Killian’s training has given him muscle memory, and even with his eyes burning, he acts instinctively.

Killian’s blade pierces Rufio’s heart. The boy’s eyes widen in shock before he hits the ground, blood spreading quickly across his chest. The lost boys are silent. Chest heaving, Killian turns towards Pan, lifting his blood-stained sword.

“I have a crew of my own now,” he tells the demon child, “and we’re leaving.”

Pan narrows his eyes, and before Killian can register what’s happening, he’s taken flight and making circles around him. Pan lands just behind Killian and startles him when he speaks.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow mutiny in my ranks.”

Killian turns to face Pan, ready for a fight, but is unprepared when Peter plunges his hand into his chest. Killian gasps and chokes as Pan squeezes. Then he tugs and with a sharp pain, yanks Killian’s heart out. Killian’s mouth hangs open in shock as he presses his hand to his chest. There’s no blood. How is there no blood?

Pan lifts a glowing red object and holds it in Killian’s face - his heart. It pulses, bright red, with tiny swirls of dark flitting through it.

“Look at this, Killian Jones, you have a touch of darkness in your heart.”

Killian doesn’t know what to do, he can scarcely comprehend what is happening. He’s heard rumors of witches and warlocks who could steal a man’s heart. He never expected it of this boy, however. Killian drops to his knees as Pan squeezes his heart.

“I could crush it right now and end you,” Pan mocks gleefully, “but since you attempted to steal my crew, I’m thinking of a more fitting punishment.”

Pan leans forward and slams Killian’s heart back into his chest. In the same moment, Peter’s other hand snatches Killian’s abandoned sword and he brings it down upon Killian’s wrist, slicing off his left hand. Killian screams in pain, holding his severed appendage to his chest as he falls backwards. Starkey catches him and helps him to his feet, Nibs supports him on the other side.

Pan kicks at the lifeless hand where it lies upon the ground. “They say a vein runs from the heart right down to the tip of your left hand. Fitting don’t you think?”

Pan and his loyal followers melt into the jungle, and Killian doubles over in pain. “Leave me,” he grits out to Starkey and Nibs.

But the two former lost boys in addition to the few others who had stood at Killian’s back refuse to leave him. They drag him through the jungle in the opposite direction of the rest of Pan’s crew.

***************************************

Killian Jones stands at the top of the highest peak in Neverland. The last month has been a time of healing for him. Healing from losing his hand. Healing from the loss of his brother.

But the thirst for revenge? That hasn’t waned.

Killian looks down at the curve of metal at the end of his left arm. His jaw clenches as he gazes upon it, then back out to sea. His new crew had taken him to a couple of fairies - Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily. They had enough pixie dust between them to help him heal, though it was still a long, slow process. No amount of light magic, however, could give him back his hand.

“Hook?”

Killian turns to where Starkey stands further down the hill. That’s what his crew calls him now: Hook. His blue eyes gaze back out to sea at a familiar speck of white on the horizon.

“Get the crew together,” he tells his faithful friend. “We have ourselves a ship.”

**********************************************

For only the second time in his life, Killian Jones has bloodied his sword. Killing Rufio had been largely in self defense, and he had felt sick as he watched the boy’s life blood stain the ground. He doesn’t feel sick now as he strides amongst the naval crew he used to be a part of. He and his new crew had fought ruthlessly, and now their remaining enemies have been tied and gagged.

“If you don’t want to die today,” Killian announces, “you can pledge allegiance to me, Captain Hook.”

A choking laugh escapes the gagged mouth of the Jewel of the Realm’s captain. Killian’s eyes flash when he hears it, and he strides to Captain Roberts. He leans down and yanks the gag from the man’s mouth with his hook.

“Is something funny?” he snaps.

“You are still nothing but a boy.”

Killian leans close to the man’s ear and speaks to him in a whisper. “Really? Is that why you sent my brother and I like lambs to the slaughter? You sent mere boys to retrieve your poison?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you joined the navy.” Roberts turns and spits in Killian’s face.

Behind Hook, his new crew of former lost boys gasp in shock. Their new leader stands erect, calmly wiping the spittle away with his handkerchief.

“What about loyalty, Roberts? When my brother and I didn’t promptly return, you sailed away and left us.” Killian clenches his jaw. “I see Hawkins is back on board. Were you returning to send him to this accursed island? Still a coward?”

Killian doesn’t need the man to answer; he knows it to be true. Hawkins stands behind him, shoulder to shoulder with Starkey, his arms crossed as he coldly assesses his captain. Killian catches the boy’s eye and Jim nods his approval before Killian hefts his sword and plunges it into Captain Robert’s shoulder. The man flings his head back and screams. Seeing the blood spill upon the deck as he pulls the sword back reminds Killian of Liam, and filled with rage, he stabs the man in the other shoulder. Whimpers color the man’s grunts of pain.

“What do you want?” he manages to choke out.

Killian raises his hook and plunges it into the man’s chest. “I want my brother back, you son of a bitch.” He twists his hook viciously before yanking it out, and the man’s lifeless body crumples to the deck.

Silence reigns on the deck as Captain Hook calmly straightens, wiping his bloody hook clean on his handkerchief. “Raise the black flag!” he shouts to Starkey. “This ship is now the Jolly Roger!”

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms@delirious-latenight-laughs

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #childhood sweethearts #angst #slow burn

82 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 5 years

Note

How would it go if certain people (who is up to you) found out that Ardyn and Nox are from a future that went so completely to shit that there are no words to describe it, that Nox is actually Noctis, who's so happy and bubbly that they can't quite imagine what happened to make him like that. A few of Nox's traits and quirks would definitely make more sense though, as would some of Ardyn's.

Hmmmm hmmm ohhhhh this is- hmmmmm. Okay heads up NONE of this is considered canon atm for Nox but if anyone found out it would be Cid, Weskham, and like- Prompto (this may change, depending on how much I feel like making Nox suffer, but for now these are non-canon).

-For Cid- he’d find out that Nox was from the future when he accidentally walked in on Nox sharpening his Ultima Blade. Now- Cid might not be THE most observant person, but he knows his own handiwork like its a part of his soul and THAT SWORD, that sword that looks like its been dragged through the depths of the abyss and back, that sword that Nox cradles like its his child as he polishes and sharpens the blade-

-That is his handiwork. His blade. His tweaks and mods and balances and bits of flare to the point he could already tell you every step he went through to make it.

-He’s never seen that sword before in his life.

-Or ... not this life.

-Nox looks up at him with too-old eyes and a weary, frightened face, “I ... I can explain.”

-Cid stares, stares at the face of Reggie’s eldest and can hear the unspoken I really, really don’t want to and knows that what he is going to hear is going to break him even more than losing Mid and Melba.

-He’s right.

-Nox doesn’t tell him much, tries so HARD to keep the final pieces from clicking, but Cid is no fool and he can hear the gaps.

-The gaps that Nox is NOCTIS. Reggie’s little bright eyed boy. That Nox was the Chosen King and that everything went to the pyre when he was just a newly turned adult. That whatever happened between him and the Accursed (the way Nox uses the title only and no names makes Cid think of Ardyn’s own bitter declaration of past abuse toward his nephew and feel cold) ... broke him.

-Then Nox tells him, honest and quiet, that he died. Nox, this boy, this child Cid has helped raise and helped put back together (yet not a child at all, if what Nox is saying is true, and it is) went and died so that the world would be saved, even though there was so little left TO save at that point and then ... woke up. Younger and different and here.

-And he doesn’t want to believe it, except despite the inherent insanity of the story it MAKES SENSE. All of Nox’s odd “similarities” with Noctis, the secrets and the way Nox stares at Reggie like Reggie is a ghost come back to life.

-The blade that started this entire confrontation.

-Cid has no words to explain what he feels in that moment, looking at the fragile, sharp-edged remains of what could have been (hopefully will never again be) Noctis’s future. He just pulls the boy close and doesn’t let go for a long time.

...

-For Weskham, he puts the pieces together because he is both smart, openminded and ... something of an outside observer. He meets Noctis and Nox at the same time, with fewer preconceptions, and notices the oddities. The similarities that go deeper than “oh just like their father” or “what a coincidence” and instead go screaming off the edge into creepy.

-They like the same foods and hate the same foods, though Nox is better at being mature and eating it anyway. They have many of the same tells in the way they blink, or look away, or rub the backs of their necks. He hears of the marilith attack and through various accidental circumstances happens to see their scars.

-Nox and Noctis have identical scars on their backs, though Noctis’s far more faded and small, and Weskham has this- moment where he thinks of the identical scars and the story of how Nox heard “rumors” and rushed headlong to defend family he supposedly didn’t even know, from an attack that “just happened” to be identical to one he had suffered around Noctis’s age and something inside him goes OH.

-He watches for a long time and tells no one, and while he can’t fathom why he’s indulging the theory it ... makes sense. The tells, the similarities, the face shapes. He imagines Nox with short hair and almost creeps himself out with how identical Noctis and Nox would look if the elder did not have his long hair and earrings and was a few years younger.

-He already knows magic can do many impossible things. Both good and bad. So he keeps the impossible theory to himself, nursing it and compiling more and more little bits of evidence in his head, never intending to SAY anything until he stumbles across Nox during a Quiet Day, watching the world with too-old eyes and blurts, “How did it end?”

-Nox looks at him slowly, like Weskham’s only a dream, “What?”

-Weskham doesn’t like the dead look in Nox’s eyes, not when he mentally compares it to little, cheerful, bright-eyed Noctis and wonders what could have possibly destroyed him and remade him into Nox in just a few short years, “Whatever sent you back. How did it end?”

-Nox stares at him with knowledge old and terrible, then laughs, rusty and slightly unhinged, “Father died. Clarus died. Luna -the Oracle- died. Insomnia burned and the world soon followed. The night devoured the day and the daemons roamed unchecked, people died in droves while I SLEPT in Crystal and when I woke up all I could do was say goodbye to my brothers one last time and then let the Old Kings kill me so that whoever was left would at least have a dawn by which to rebuild the civilization of the world. And then I woke up.” Nox faltered, swallowed hard, “I woke up, and I’ve been wondering why ever since.”

-Weskham breathes past the knife-sharp feeling in his throat, the horrible memories of WAR he can see reflected in Nox’s eyes.

-He manages to walk away without stumbling by sheer dint of will. Collapses in his suite to shake in a chair and wish he had never noticed, never asked. Never known.

...

-For Prompto, the biggest clue was their first meeting. When he was crying over his camera and Nox was desperate to cheer him and babbled and called him “Prom” as warm and loving and familiar as if they were family and not a little crying boy and a nice stranger on the street.

-He never forgot that meeting. Never really believed Nox’s excuse of memorizing who Noctis’s classmates where.

-Nox is weird. Nox is ... really weird. Always has been. But that’s okay, because he’s Nox, he’s Noctis’s big brother and kinda Prompto’s big brother after Cor adopted him so ... so it’s okay.

-Except for the time it isn’t.

-Except for the time Prompto makes the mistake of binging way too many sci-fi shows in one sitting and then spots Nox and Noctis together and notices how similar their voices were now that Noctis wasn’t a little kid, how they wrinkle their nose in the same way when they’re baffled and- and-

-It’s a really dumb idea okay? He gets that, he KNOWS that. Except ... it makes a lot of sense too. The more he thinks about it, the harder he shoves the preconception of “of COURSE they’re two different people” in a little box, the more he realizes it MAKES TOO MUCH SENSE.

-Nox’s habits, his ticks, the way he KNOWS Noctis and Ignis and Gladio and Prompto. The way he looks at them sometimes like they’re fragile glass pictures that are going to shatter. The way Axis has said once that he wasn’t Nox’s FIRST Shield, but that Nox’s original Shield was gone-.

-Prompto maybe spends the next week hyperventilating in his room when no one is looking and trying very hard to NOT blurt out the question “are you a time traveller” whenever he sees Nox.

-Eventually he can’t resist, eventually he tests. Runs up and slaps Nox on the shoulder with a friendly, “Yo, Noctis!” when they’re both alone in a hallway of the Citadel and something in his stomach drops out when Nox doesn’t go “huh?” but instead just chuckles and goes, “Hi Prom,” before Nox FREEZES.

-Its the freeze that really sells it in Prompto’s mind, the look of confusion and devastation on Nox (NOCTIS’S) face that makes him instantly regret trying anything. Prompto babbles something about tongue slip and meaning Nox, OBVIOUSLY, because OBVIOUSLY they were two different people, being brothers and all and seven years apart and-

-And there is something so very sad in Nox’s eyes as he murmurs, “You always were a bad liar, Prom.”

-Oh. Oh dear. Prompto swallows and hunches in on himself without thinking, “So ... I was right then.”

-Nox nods slowly and the silence is ... awkward. Tense. Filled with something Prompto can’t name or describe and suddenly he’s apologizing. He’s apologizing and almost in tears and when Nox, baffled and alarmed, asks why-

-“I don’t remember you. You look at us and you remember, and we’re your brothers and we PROMISED ‘ever at your side’ but I don’t REMEMBER you and Iggy and Gladio don’t even know-.” He stops, he sniffles and another horrible thought comes to him and since today is the day for turning off his brain to mouth filter apparently he whispers, “Did we die? Is- is that why we didn’t come with you to the past?”

-Nox takes a shaky breath and runs it through his hair, “No-, no you all- you all lived. As far as I know. Up until the point I ... came back, you were all alive and ... well. Just a little banged up, but okay.” Nox (Noctis, a broken Noctis, a Noctis from a future that had to have been horrible because Prompto’s SEEN some of the scars and he doesn’t want to think about that-) blinks wet eyes and suddenly blurts, “Don’t tell anyone. Please? Especially not- especially not the others.”

-Prompto nods, because of course, he’s not an idiot and he doesn’t think they’d believe him anyway. Nox coughs awkwardly in his throat and starts to walk away with hunched shoulders and Prompto will never know why he opened his big mouth again or why, of all things, he chooses to say, “Yo, Nox?”

-Nox (not Noctis, because they ARE two different people now and Prompto prays it stays that way) blinks over his shoulder and Prompto musters up his biggest grin as he blurts, “Thanks, you know? For ... everything. You’ve really Walked Tall.” He doesn’t know what those words mean, or why he chose “walked tall” of all things but he knows in a second his words MEAN something more than he can ever comprehend because Nox’s eyes go wide-

-And suddenly Nox is hugging Prompto. Clinging to him like he’s an anchor in a storm and all Prompto can do is hug back as fiercely as he can while tears drip onto his shirt, and Nox shakes like he’s about to fall apart and somewhere in the harsh breathing of the time-traveler-brother-friend in his arms, Prompto could swear he hears Nox whisper, “I miss you so much, Prom- I can’t-,” but then Nox goes silent, and astrals Prompto’s crying too, because he always was a crybaby and something inside him hurts in a way that makes it hard to breathe (is this what Nox was feeling? Is this what he felt those days he looked at them with too-old eyes? No wonder he always left the room, Prompto wants to scream already and Nox has felt this for years-).

-Nox pulls away, rests his forehead on Prompto’s for just a second and it feels like a thank you.

-It feels like a goodbye. But not to him. It’s a goodbye to the weight falling off Prompto’s shoulders, like hands letting go as a shadow fades away.

-Nox retreats, disappears around the corner without a word and with a too-bright-too-old look that means Prompto’s set off a Quiet Day and Prompto-

-Prompto goes back to his room and hugs his old chocobo plush tight. He’s not in the mood to go play video games with the others right now.

-Days later Nox finds him again and wordlessly, gently, passes him a leather-bound book. A memento, Nox calls it sadly, I’ll want it back when you’re done, he murmurs before slinking away.

-Prompto hides it where even Cor wouldn’t think to look because he doesn’t dare put it in armiger (the armiger Noctis gave him, the armiger Noctis might find it in accidentally). He hides himself under his covers like he’s a little kid again, holds his flashlight tight in one hand and his chocobo plush under his other arm as he flips it open and sees-

-Photos. His photos. His style, with all of them (Ignis, Noctis, Gladio, himself) in them. He doesn’t know the context for them but- it’s a journey. It’s a roadtrip in film and Prompto spends hours carefully flipping through each page, staring at snapshots of battles not fought and fishing holes not visited and silly moments not laughed at anymore. It’s Nox’s life in a nutshell, Prompto thinks as he looks through photos taken in dark dungeons and sunlit deserts. Injuries and health, insomnia and energetic smiles. The last photo is of them, on a campground he recognizes. It’s the one just outside Insomnia, where you can see the bridge leading to the island and the lighting is usually amazing. This one is at night, and they all look older, thirty or more whereas in the others they are only twenty or so. Noctis- Nox, is in the center, smiling with the soft, sad eyes that Prompto remembers from that first meeting, Gladio looming behind him and Ignis at his side with a visor that doesn’t hide the scars on his face. In the middle, one arm slung over Ignis’s shoulders and the other over Nox’s like he can KEEP them there, forever safe and happy if he just holds on tight enough, is himself.

-There are no other photos.

-Prompto doesn’t need to be told why.

-He returns the book to Nox the next day, and refuses to acknowledge Noctis’s puzzled look when he hugs Nox tight and doesn’t mind when Nox hugs him back. Then Prompto smiles, because that’s his job in the group, to be the one who smiles when things are dark, and he drags Nox over to play Kings Knight with the four of them. And maybe things aren’t perfect, because now Prompto KNOWS and he can never un-know, but things are better. Because Nox is here, and Nox fixed things, and Nox is never going to let Noctis become him, so Prompto doesn’t have to worry about that and can instead focus on keeping both of his kings smiling and laughing and happy.

-He can hold on, and this time, no blood or road trip or daemon-infested future will be able to make him let go.

(hgfdhg congrats I just made myself cry. Everyone suffer with me. @wolfsrainrules @hamelin-born @ean-sovukau @rayearthdudette @sparklecryptid COME SUFFER WITH ME.)

#SE asks #faeconstellation asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse

110 notes · View notes

mensajeroseis · 4 years

Note

any tips, tricks or helpful hints in playing wasteland 3? (anything from character builds, useful perks for any playthrough to "don't spend ur money there save if for here" or "yeah behind the rock is a cool.gun don't wanna miss it"

Hmmm, your first 2 companions will have skills in “kiss ass” + “sneaky shit” and “barter” + “weapon modding”. Some other ones also, but I would say those are the most important. So if you choose to make custom rangers, idr any of the presets, put points into different skills that aren’t either of those because otherwise you’d be wasting skill points (which is what I did in my first unfinished playthru lol) and you can’t reset your skills at all, so your decision with where to put them and who to give clear roles to in your team build is significant for how well you will play.

However. You will get the opportunity to make more custom rangers after the “prologue” chapter. And it will be useful to just make a dummy ranger, with as much barter points they can have, just so you can sell a bunch of shit for a good amount of money when you initially go to Colorado Springs. I haven’t done this, but I saw it as a neat tip on reddit and will try it in my 3rd playthru, because having a steady sum of cash is so useful, because ammo is kinda expensive for some weapons. (I was so poor in my 1st playthru it wasnt funny)

As for character builds, I would say try making one of your initial rangers the leader. So give them charisma, leadership, and afaik the quirk Lone Wolf works fine w that character build. Also quirks are kinda tricky imo, some are definitely meant for specific character builds and weapon uses. Like for assault rifle users, I’ve used the serial killer quirk which has been useful and saved my ass in combat a bit lol.

ALSO MAJOR WARNING : do NOT trade your 2 original rangers out because there is a glitch that will fuck up their entire build and skills its so bizarre. and will make them unusable if you do lol its so sad.

another thing, in the prologue, you will be able to save your first companion her name is jodie (she isnt usable initially). dont attack in that interaction. also make sure to get cigarettes from her so you can get an animal companion at the end of the prologue (he is my favorite)

other than that i’d say the game is fun to just experience in all your mishaps. Just make sure to completely explore the areas you’re in. All loot is randomly spawned save for a few key items like skill books and some weapons or armor. I’d say it can be worth it to just restart when you finish the quests in the area called “the bizarre”, because its really still in the beginning of the game, and youll be much more used to gameplay and just general tactical and team build smarts. And the game doesn’t really need grinding, you can ignore majority of random encounters if your survival skill with a character is high enough, and youll do fine. However random encounters are good for loot hunting and making more money, and levelling up ofc.

ehh yeah thats about all i can think of. the wasteland subreddit will practically have any post to help you on any questions you have, thats what I did lol. I just read thru millions of posts

#tropicalscream

1 note · View note

autowahn · 5 years

Photo

777 9311 Hours of Work – Restoring the First Digital Drum Machine

I’ve always been a huge fan of Prince. His trademark sound owes a lot to the Linn LM-1, the first digital drum machine ever, designed by Roger Linn in California in 1979. Only around 500 were made and Prince actually had three of them at Paisley Park studios. Here’s the story of my #315 made in 1981. 

I never expected to find a LM-1 for sale ever. Despite its scarcity in early 2009 I tracked down a LM-1 on a second-hand music gear website in Germany. The seller confessed it had for years served as a cellar door stopper in a Swiss recording studio. It was serviced by Bruce Forat (a former Linn Electronics employee) in the US — who reportedly was not able not fix it 100 %. But we’ll come to that in a minute.

She Blinded Me With … Magahony 

LM1 #315 looked amazing, quite impressive in size. Perfect layout, orange print on black powder coated steel, luxurious mahogany side panels. 12 glorious 8 bit samples at 28 khz plus analogue CEM 3320 filters for bassdrum and toms/congas. 

The CEMs are adjustable internally via trim pots, which was only introduced on revision 2. As in revision 3 though, there was no external sync on this LM-1 originally and no clock rate switch in the back. But it had a low output jack which was supposably removed on revision 3. All that makes my LM-1 some kind of revision 2 and a half, technically. The clock input was retrofitted at some point in the past. 

That’s it for the basics. The rest turned out to be pure esoterics.  

I never figured out when or when not it would work. Sometime I had to turn it up 20 times, before it would run. On some occasions, it would just go berserk in the middle of a programming session, preferably while messing with complex rythms and before I saved it that pattern of course. Faders where performing poorly, too. And only recently I found out it was also sensitive to room temperature … and maybe the axial tilt of the earth?

All that called for a checkup pretty early in my ownerhsip, but who’d do it if even Bruce Forat had turned it down? And why would I keep that four decades old piece of early digital gear with little to no documentation at all?  

The answer is simple: Nothing sounds like the LM-1!

Bring the Beat Back 

I introduced Alex, a talented friend of mine with a masters degree in electronics, to the quirks and features of the LM-1, and then we started off restauration.

First, I got new faders from synthpatchers in Canada for a whopping 239 $. That’s a lot of money for a de facto 99 ¢ mouser.com fader. (The original faders are Mexico 112 1002 94, the same as used in ARP synths.) The only problem is to find out which of the thousands available fit into the LM-1, because the sockets are said to be different from the stock one, but I can’t verify that. 

You either have to take the stock ARP ones and modify them, use other faders and built an adaptor yourself — or just go with the synthpatchers.com parts that will just work as designed (the original faders were performing very poorly so cleaning was no option either).

The faders arrived after four weeks and another whopping 80 € for shipping plus customs. Globalization doesn’t work for everyone …

According to the service sheets and schematics, the LM-1 power supply runs on 15 volts. Actually, it’s a 12 volt Power-One HTAA-16W power supply with a little “power boost” that did not provide equal current anymore. We were unsure how long the power supply would still work correctly after 40 years. Since it’s a crucial component and we wanted to avoid future consequences for the rest of the circuitry, instead of recapping it we simply replaced it with a modern switch power supply running stable on exactly 15 volts.

Those rechargeable batteries were also replaced along with a few rotten voice board capacitors (see white circle). Some display pins had also gone loose and were fitted back in.

It turned out the startup issue was a consequence of a glitch in the power supply and the display pins. When you switch on the LM-1, the OS boots within seconds and if that initial current is incorrect, it won’t boot at all.

More Light

This is a historic piece of gear, so any restoration is of course also a question of philosophy. Do you want a museum piece, maybe not working 100 %, but 100 % original? Or do you want to use it the way Roger Linn designed it — as a musical instrument, ready to perform? I decided on the latter.

Repairs aside, any non-reversable modification was not an option for me. But an easily removeable and musically justifiable mod – why not?

After Alex had figured everything out, the LM-1 worked perfectly. Since it’s a revision 2 with three unused holes covered by blank jacks in the back, we were going through possible reversable modifications to the circuitry and having them controlled with pots sitting in those unused holes.

We decided on a filter cut-off and resonance mod. One that allowed for both the bassdrum CEM and toms/congas CEM to be controlled from the back.

To achieve cut-off change one resistor had to be slightly decreased in value, so the internal trim pot would cover the entire filter range, not just half of it like in the factory setting (it was not intended to be changed as a “sound feature”). For resonance Alex soldered in two extra resistors. Then he took two pots with two dual caps as CV source and wired them to the filters (see photo below; new switch power supply also installed).

Finding a musically usefull range for resonance took a bit of fiddling. Due to a missing VCA, self oscillation did not make sense (you would just get a constanc hum) and also VCF envelope modification, though theoretically possible, was turned down due to irrelevant results (the samples are just too short).

It was important to me to have the factory VCF and resonance setting available at any time, because that’s the sound the LM-1 is famous for. The new dual pots are set in exactly that way: at 12 o’clock it’s the factory sound, to the left and right you can now either enhance or erase high frequencies and artefacts — for the VCF.

For resonance, the setting is slightly different, because resonance wasn’t used in the original design at all: for resonance amount zero (factory spec) the pot is turned far left. As you turn it up, resonance increases.

That’s it! A total nerd topic, but I hope someone will find this usefull because documentation, as I said in the beginning, is pretty rare on this machine.

I’ll leave you with the greatest LM-1 beat ever made:

youtube

#linndrum #lm-1 #prince #linnlm1 #autowahn #music #drummachine #80s #synths #roger linn #7779311 #the time #7779311 challenge

40 notes · View notes

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoldretired · 4 years

Text

alrighty! im gonna talk about my two new dr!ocs and some updates on sheon’s whole thing. remember they don’t have names yet adkaljasdkfa

SURVIVOR: the ultimate jazz singer.

as mentioned, she’s the ultimate jazz singer. pretty subdued personality, but she’s the type of jazz singer who would just. scream into a microphone a la screamin jay hawkins. she is pretty neutral/friendly but disconnected in the prologue/first chapter/second chapter. she gets more jittery as the interactions go on. but once you get to the post-fte section of chapter two, that night she actually tries to kill the protag. at this point its revealed her big Angsty Backstory is she got involved with drugs through the music scene and is currently suffering withdrawal symptoms and is Super desperate (something ive seen a lot with my co-musicians and its not good) big breakdown, really delirious, will eventually be talked off the ledge and calmed down. kind of like if sayaka was actually calmed down in thh chap 1

just so happens that during the night whoopsy someone else was killed. so you two have an alibi but to reveal it means you tell everyone about her issues. either there might be a lying feature like in drv3 to cover, or you tell the truth and end up isolating her. for chapter three and most of four she will keep her distance from the protag bc she’s uncomfortable but will eventually reach out to be friends again after chap 4 execution.

is generally pretty useful during trials, tends to be a person who tries to help calm down more emotional students and look at things logically. is good at trying to calm down the blackened once the protag catches their bluff bc she understands what its like to be desperate. she does, however, cry during/after every punishment. tells others not to speak poorly of their executed classmates.

she compulsively chews gum, and one of her favorite gifts would be gum. jokes about having an oral fixation. during school mode she might joke about singing love songs but being so awkward about it in real life. really likes dogs, has a dog plushie in her room.

a first two fte will focus on her health/wellbeing. the third she’ll ask to not talk about that anymore and the next three are just about general stuff. the final one she’ll basically go a little further into detail but the moral of her story is like, she’s not a bad person for doing what she did, no one is. she’s just a person. and it cn happen to anymore.

dresses in clothes more inspired by late mod/early 70s fashion. hoestly im seeing like a turtleneck/pantsuit combo. short curly hair. big heavy under eyelashes.

MASTERMIND: the ultimate drag racer (ultimate cruiser)

ok but I LOVE him. personality wise he’s the story’s anxious character, think closer in personality to chap 1 shuichi. quiet, skittish, easily flustered, sometimes cracks jokes that fall flat. he’s framed for the chap 1 murder (someone died in a go kart accident, its assumed he sabotaged the other car, his argument is why would he kill someone in a race in front of all his classmates?) the protag obviously works hard to prove he’s innocent. after the execution he makes a promise to the protag that he owes him one big time, and while it seems innocent at the time, the wording should have like. a slight suspicious undertone.

he’ll investigate weirder areas of the school instead of practical (sometimes he has clues sometimes not) and if there’s ever a mechanical question for a trial, you’ll generally ask him for clarification. he’s not very trusting of others and is often the one to accuse others/bring the information learned in trials back into the real world and make a big deal out of it. for example, he’ll make a big deal about the attempted murder in chap 2, and he’s the one who’s constantly accusing sheon of being a traitor

at first he seems like he’s just anxious, but obviously, he’s the mastermind, and he’s trying to tear the group apart.

his fte he’s awkward the first few times but he opens up slowly, showing actual comfort/joy around the protag. wants to be close friends. offers to take protag go karting. while their personality is pretty awkward most of the time, there are flashes of an adrenaline junky every now and then especially when talking about cars, where he seems so full of life and drive it’s almost scary. very competitive during these times, his determination almost taking a sadistic glee when talking about beating others. of course he explains it as his cutthroat sport, but ya know...mastermind. instead of saying we’re going to survive he says we’re going to win. friendly towards the others but doesn’t really care about them focused on protag. is consciously trying to seperate protag from sheon.

for a mastermind he’s actually quite the empath and grows attached to his classmates, which he actually takes pleasure in the amount of despair he feels after each of their executions. reason behind the game is the adrenaline rush he feels, never has felt more alive than on despair. he discovered the rush the first time he got in a car accident, and the moments before his crash where like pure bliss. he wanted to let everyone else feel his feverish joy, and talks about how everyone has enjoyed this, deep down. they’re all getting their sick kicks. breaks the fourth wall and alludes to the fact that the protag (through the player) is having the most fun of all.

final trial where it’s revealed, he’s still v attached to the protag in like an almost yandere way and wants to follow up on the favor he owes from chap 1. he offers a deal to the protag where if they’re welcome to be their accomplice in all this and get out of the game. protag should push to bargain that everyone can give up their morals, sacrifice themselves to despair, and live as the mastermind’s accomplice in exchange for ending the killing game.

eventually, he’ll agree, but only if the group decides one life among them to sacrifice for no other reason than to kill an innocent friend. the way to get to the correct ending is to choose yourself which will like invalidate the deal. protag ends up dying and everyone else lives. leaves the mastermind in a despair, but for the first time, he does not derive any pleasure.

takes a LOT OF GLEE in admitting he convinced everyone else sheon was the traitor when she was not, everyone else is horrified.

anyways. his school mode/love mode events show his more likeable side, he can actually be a really cute partner if it weren’t for the part he’s evil but uh. soft sometimes.

really likes energy drinks. talks about sponsorships. color scheme is like. a black racing suit but his jacket is tied around his waist and he’s wearing a wife beater. tons of accents of neon all over his outfit from like patches and brand deals. backwards hat. blushes easily. has a mullet. i love him.

“TRAITOR” : SHEON FUKUDA (the ultimate film maker)

ok so. still antagonistic. but more in the way of pushing your buttons and pointing out your flaws in a trial. like somewhere between antagonist and kirigiri. super chill personality, cracks a lot of jokes, is hardcore struggling with the games and will be open about her mental illness. her fatal flaw is still her martyr complex

is first framed after chap 2 bc of accused of having the ability to direct and oversee a production like this, and from that moment forward no one can trust her and she’s SUPER alienated. she’s still awkwardly trying to be friends/friendly but people act like she’s going to betray them all. tries to prove innocence multiple times going as far as to beginning of chap 3 announce to the group if they need to kill anyone, let it be her so no one else gets hurt and is super transparent about who she is. but this transparency makes people more suspicious. as she goes on she gets more desperate/gallows humor. last convo bfore chap 5 begins she has a vague conversation about with protag about if they fear death. chap 5 would end up being either a suicide or double murder (they killed each other one in attack the other while being defended against) so there’s no execution but monokuma still wants something. its also in this trial that the ultimate drag racer plants evidence taht makes it look like she’s the traitor and is addressed head on.

a common motif for her is ‘playing the role assigned’ and knowing who she is and who she isn’t. she’s pretty comfortable knowing who she is but expresses unhappiness about being painted a villain. maybe like, three times through the story to this point it’s established as a motif/quirk of fitting a role she’s assigned bc if the protag asks her a question about herself/past/the overall story, she asks the protag a question like well, what do you want 1) 2) and you choose and she’s like. ok. then its _______. same thing here. as she’s finally excused she stares at the protag and is like do you really believe im the traitor? (yes) stares long and hard, somethng sad and defeated in her eyes. ok then. i am.

the trial doesn’t have a punishment originally planned bc the blackened are not alive. but she chooses not to vote and willingly chooses to be punished because everyone else has decided she’s the traitor and she chooses to play along so they can get closure. her last conversation should be about choosing the act of resistance, no matter how convoluted it can be. she doesn’t fear death. the pain sure, but not death. this was her choice to be punished, not the masterminds, and she hopes they lose any glee they take in her suffering because its a sacrifice for hope instead of a death in despair. last request is that she asks for the protag to make sure the manuscripts she wrote during her time are published, the last great work of sheon fukuda.

EXECUTION: CULTURE SHOCK so she wakes up on a soundstage to blinding light. she’s attached with electrodes. monokuma is sitting on a director’s chair with a director’s hat. basically the premise is as the ultimate film maker, she has to recreate different iconic movie scenes and every time she makes a mistake she gets shocked. she keeps on getting thrown into new scenes into the middle of old ones, throwing her off. after a sequence of costume changes/farces she finally collapses in the soundstage.

beat. she looks up. above the soundstage is a sign that says “congratulations” or something. everyone gasps. she believes she beat it. a single light comes on in center stage prompting her to take a bow. she stumbles over, stands up, and looks into the shadows in the general direction of her classmates. a teleprompter prompts her classmates to clap. she takes glee, soaking in her win, and bows. as she comes up she smiles for a second before a short rings out. she’s shot through the heart. culture shock!

fte are mostly talking about directors/film references and what its like to be a film maker. real dry humor, sometimes talks about deeper stuff. her backstory is that her dad was working for an american embassy so she grew up in america going to art shool, and she feels out of place, despite being a japanese student with the same basic culture as everyone else. sometimes talks about slimeball directors, sometimes talks about missing certain food, loves takling about movies. as a filmmaker she specializes in dark comedy/farce which makes her suspicious of how someone can enjoy writing somethng so twisted

views are very intersectional, a little new agey, but still well put together. clearly a free spirit, very quirky from working in cinema, super dry sense of humor. likes philosophy

really likes blueberry jam. favorite item is somthing blueberry.

after chap 1 trial she expresses to the protag how she can never be the blackened, not just because of murdering one student, but to get away with it, everyone else would be punished instead, and she can’t deal with the blood on her hands.

is open about her struggles with mental illness and how she was getting help and showing improvement bfore coming here but now she feels herself spiraling and hates it.

values everyone here as good friends, and while she tries to play it off she hates how they’re painting her as a villain. takes every death very personally.

color scheme is very pastel, and she wears sweat pants and a collared shirt with a light blue robe. you can’t tell if those are pajamas or an outfit. wears rose-colored glasses. all about the aesthetic, just lean so far into film culture with her. personality/feelings towards style are very influenced by the fact she went to an american arts school instead of a japanese school like her peers so every part of her is slightly off/quirky/out-of-touch

she’ll mostly wear the glasses over her eyes, sometimes pushing them down on her nose for emphasis to make eye contact. only her anger sprite (point) shows her taking them off.

during her execution she pushes them onto her forehead before taking her bow, almost to meet eye to eye. after she’s shot the last frame is them landing on the ground, cracking.

i love sheon so much

#dr oc #sheon fukuda #dr after party

10 notes · View notes

somniumoflight · 4 years

Text

Crossover Idea #11 – My Hero Academia/Minecraft

Izuku has a Quirk that lets him transport himself back and forth between the real world and the world of Minecraft.

So, I’ve been on a Minecraft binge for a week or so at this point. I was bored and I was suddenly struck with the urge to re-watch an MC role-play series I haven’t watched in literal years, and then I started watching Game Theory’s newest Minecraft theories, and later, somewhere in the middle of building something in Creative, my brain suddenly spat out the idea of hey what if Izuku had a quirk that let him enter the MC world? Like, you don’t need powers to be a hero there, you just need to know how to learn/craft. This was the result of that thought spinning wildly out of control.

So, here’s the idea I’ve got in my head so far. Somewhere around, oh, the ten-to-twelve-year range, Izuku’s getting really depressed. The bullying he’s dealing with is worse than it was ever shown to be in canon, the teachers are even worse, and he’s just having a generally hard time. After a particularly bad day, Izuku doesn’t feel like watching any hero vids for once, and instead looks around for some other vids to watch for something to do, and finds a Minecraft YouTuber in the process and falls in love with the game. It basically becomes his second major obsession, and his mom gets him a copy of the game for his birthday (secretly glad that Izuku is interested in things other than Heroes now.)

When Izuku installs the game, though, and goes to make his first single-player survival world, the Quirk he never knew he had activates, and he’s dragged into the computer screen and dumped straight into the MC world – or, rather, a real world similar to the game, complete with the same game mechanics but a lot more meat to its lore and history and the creatures living in it. This is no longer just a game, it’s a real world he can explore in all its blocky glory. Izuku ends up surviving on his own for several Minecraft days, slightly terrified but able to hide from the mobs well enough, and when his Mom comes in to tell him dinner’s ready and finds the game apparently running on its own, she pauses it and the screen spits a shocked Izuku right back out at her.

So yeah, Izuku’s quirk is Minecraft-based. He, personally, thinks this is really cool, but since all he can do is jump back and forth between IRL and the world behind the screen, not even take anything with him as he comes and goes, it’s pretty useless for Hero work, and the people in his school still treat him the same because they’re stupid and prejudiced. He retreats into MC more and more as time goes on, because after the initial scare it became hella fun to live out a life there, and its a good way to escape his normal life’s torment. He meets Villagers, who are actual people capable of speaking and being friendly to newcomers and stuff, and makes a few friends in the first village he finds. He explores a LOT, and encounters Illagers as well as normal unfriendly mobs. He starts learning how to sword-fight, because clearly he needs to lessons after that encounter with Illagers. He starts getting more and more invested in the MC world, but is conflicted about it, because he still has dreams of being a Pro-Hero.

Then Izuku meets All Might, and has his dreams crushed. He doesn’t get a chance to impress All Might by saving Bakugou, because instead of sticking around he just goes straight home immediately to dip back into the MC world, as its his go-to-comfort at this point. At that point, his Villager friends help him finally figure out that his world really isn’t a good place for him – and so he talks to his mom, and they make a deal. If Izuku can’t find something he feels is worth sticking around in their world for (other than his mom, of course) by the time he finishes high school, Inko’s okay with him basically moving into the Minecraft world full-time if it will make him happy.

So, while Class 1-A at Yuuei gets into villain-related disasters and misadventures, Izuku’s having his own misadventures, both in the MC world and his non-Yuuei high school. In the high school, he’s mostly trying to find something he wants to do with his life that isn’t Hero-related, and trying to make new friends. In the MC world, though, he’s helping his Villager friends and getting into misadventures that would probably make class 1-A balk, even while slowly building up that world into something magnificent without realizing that he’s sorta become a hero in his own right.

Details for this Crossover include:

Izuku’s quirk basically works by taking him through the screen into whatever Minecraft world he previously logged into. This does work on servers, btw, though Izuku avoids almost everything to do with PVP once he figures out that shit hurts for real and leaves him with injuries irl.

He mostly prefers to stick to his first survival world as a result, or to do stuff in creative in a different world. He may or may not sometimes dive into multiplayer servers, though, mostly minigame servers, and in the process accidentally make friends with some of the regulars there. (He also may or may not sometimes encounter the Minecraft-playing Class 1-A members and the occasional villain from the League that way, not that he realizes it until Bakugou of all people turns up and one of the villains, Toga, tells him cheerfully who she is.)

Izuku gets turned into a blocky version of himself while in MC, mostly because Izuku’s freak-out about turning into an MC player character would be fun to write, but also because there’s no way that the Illagers wouldn’t do something to him if he was walking around as a normal human AND as a Player. See MatPat’s vids about them, and assume the Illagers are up to that kind of shady shit.

At first Izuku just explores the world and wanders between villages once he finds them, helping people out (he’s useful! He’s not useless here!) Up until All Might crushes his dreams, though, that’s p much all he’s doing. He’ll, like, fight off mobs and save villagers, and make friends in the process, but his mind’s still set on being a hero while MC is… possibly a way to go about being one?

He makes friends with several Villager children/teenager equivalents in the process, and this friendship with them makes it clear to him that his “friendship” with Bakugou is pretty fucked up. It takes a while, but he gets there eventually!

When his dreams of being a hero are crushed and he doesn’t get One for All, Izuku ends up spending more and more time in MC when not in school or working on school stuff, because the “real” world just doesn’t seem like a good place for him. He starts helping the villagers fortify their villages against mobs and Illagers, helps traveling merchants, and starts learning more about the history of this world in the process.

After an incident in his new school leads to him begging his mom to let him be homeschooled or do stuff online, he starts getting more ambitious. He starts building cities for the slowly growing Villager population of the world, fighting off hordes of mobs, exploring ancient ruins Indiana-Jones-style, and starts helping the Villagers deal with the Illager threat for good.

He goes on that whole “defeat the enderdragon” quest and may or may not end up hatching a baby ender dragon as a pet by complete accident. (I like the dragon rider mod in MC ok, and come on, Izuku’s slowly turning into an MC badass, he NEEDS a pet dragon like I need to breathe.)

… He also may or may not encounter a very unusual stranger in the wilderness, one that almost looks like another human, who helps him out during this time. (He SAYS he’s Steve, but there’s something a little off about him, and he’s not too keen on interacting with other people for some reason? And doesn’t seem to understand them all that well? And seems to like acting like a bad guy, to an extent? Izuku clues onto the fact there’s something p weird about him soon after meeting him. But hey, he’s not going to judge, and isolation can really mess with your head, right? He read that somewhere.)

… Steve may or may not be possessed. By someone who is supposed to look very similar to him. (Wink wink.) Who may or may not be intrigued by Izuku when he first meets the kid, because this kid is clearly incredibly smart, and he’s bored and kinda wants to see what this kid will grow into before he tries messing with him.

Izuku catches onto these shenanigans eventually, but the person that Steve may or may not be possessed by is trying to be subtle, and Izuku can be kinda oblivious sometimes (not to mention he’s always been interested in playing Minecraft and has read about Herobrine’s lore like, once, and since “Steve” never has white eyes he never really figures it out.) He DOES catch onto his pseudo-villainous attitude and general dislike of “Players” though, and is suitably wary of him as a result.

… Izuku may or may not also figure out that at least part of the villainous attitude is because H just doesn’t understand people in general. The dude’s a former computer virus who got into Minecraft and accidentally became a part of it. There’s no way he knows about emotions in the same way that humans/villagers do.

Years pass in the game very quickly (I mean, dude, one Minecraft month is like, 10 hours. The days are 20 minutes long, he’s in there for a VERY LONG TIME) and Izuku’s basically considered a hero by the villagers, something which makes him very happy because hey, it’s almost like he’s fulfilled his original dream, even if it’s not in a way he would have expected. He’s also got some p good friends in other servers he dives into sometimes after visiting his mom, and of course, the H-possessed Steve who pops up sometimes. (His relationship with HIM is complicated. Like, almost as complicated as his relationship with Bakugou was before he graduated into full-on bullyhood. He considers the guy a tentative friend, though.)

Then a new patch comes out, complete with a “Removed Herobrine” line in the text, and things go to shit, because the MC game can affect the real MC world to an extent, but H is kinda there for good. And he’s sick and tired of having his code/existence torn apart with every update, and oh would you look at that, there’s a player he can take the blame out on right there, along with entire cities of his villager friends.

Cue a sudden war as the mobs in the world go crazy under his influence, and Izuku and his villager friends are suddenly in for a fight for their lives. It’s practically a full-blown war, and it may or may not follow him to a server he retreats to to try to get some advice from his online friends (friendly reminder that at least a couple of them are Heroes or Hero students, and at least one of them is probably a villain. He’s got a wide range of advice.)

Izuku does eventually figure out that at least part of the problem is that Herobrine is sick of being removed, and makes a deal with the guy – if he leaves people alone, then Izuku will find a way to contact the game developers and force them to stop removing him from the game. H doesn’t accept this at first – but then Izuku leaves the game long enough to talk to his mom, and send the MC game developers an email explaining his quirk, and what’s going on, and can they please stop removing Herobrine from the game, even as a joke? It’s hurting him every time they do this and he’s trying to take it out on Izuku and his friends.

… This actually works, to Izuku’s shock. The game developers contact him about this whole thing for more details a couple IRL days later, and though they’re extremely uncomfortable with the fact that Herobrine exists, they’re also decent enough people that they don’t actually want to hurt someone, even if that someone is digital and only able to be talked to through Izuku’s quirk.

(Izuku tells H this the next time he sees the dude, and what the fuck, Herobrine wasn’t expecting the kid to be SERIOUS about this. He may or may not calm down a bit after that, and stop warring against Izuku and Co. though his relationship with the kid stays very firmly in the “complicated” category.)

This event, however, leads Izuku to realize that hey, the “real world” can still affect MC even if he lives there full-time, so he should probably stay in the real world so he can keep an eye out on the developers. After all, he can still visit his friends in MC.

… may or may not include bonus content after the main story where Izuku starts recording what he does in MC for other people to see. Not sure. But I kinda like the idea, so it might be a thing, just a post-canon thing. It would also probably be excessively shenanigan-y, by complete accident, because it would be funny (and I DID say Izuku’s relationship w/ Herobrine would be complicated, right. Yup, I did. Couple of times. Well, that’s VERY IMPORTANT okay.)

#crossover ideas #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #minecraft #my hero academia/minecraft #boku no hero academia/minecraft #MHA/Minecraft #BNHA/Minecraft #izuku has a quirk that lets him jump into the MC world like its a real place #which it is #he makes lots of friends in the MC world and in MC servers #most of his friends are villagers #plus one Steve who's around #who's not actually Steve #sort of #he may or may not also be Herobrine #it's complicated #anyway Izuku slowly saves the whole MC world one bit at a time and may or may not accidentally create a peaceful kingdom of villagers #and becomes a REAL hero in the process #cue tears of joy from Izuku because he's still a crybaby even if the tears are weirdly blocky in MC #also at first he wants to move to MC full-time because the MHA world is kinda shitty to him when he's living in it ya know #but a minor war that may or may not have been caused by Herobrine being pissed about being removed again #makes him realize he can't really leave his birth world behind if he wants to protect the MC one he calls a second home at this point #also remember the it's complicated thing #that also applies to Izuku's relationship with Herobrine #because while I like stories where Herobrine is actually just misunderstood I also like stories with him as a genuine villain #so I decided to compromise #also there may or may not be post-story shenanigans because Izuku has to make a living somehow so might as well do it by recording MC vids #and his MC world is VERY different from most people's

7 notes · View notes