#consider this prologue material

[honestlyanowl]

Arcane women with a flirty and seductive reader?

Hey doll <3

As soon as I read this I knew I had to write about it!

Content: head cannons with a small amount of nsfw - lingerie description, flirting, slight power play if you squint

I feel like considering Caitlyn’s busy job, on a constant trial and error to find Jinx; she wouldn’t have a whole lot of time to spend with you.

She’s the kind of person to be walking through the streets of Piltover on a patrol, and see a lingerie set through one of the shop’s windows; and buy it instantly for you, as an apology.

By now you’d probably have a whole wardrobe of laced underwear and ruffled bras, the materials would always be comfortable and top quality, and sometimes, if she felt really bad; it’d even be custom made to fit your body perfectly.

However, the times she did have off to relax, you’d make sure to use it to your advantage.

Though Caitlyn wasn’t entirely the type to indulge in your seductive antics and teasing hip sways, some nights she’d give in and let her eyes wander.

She was definitely a more observant person, usually not putting her hands on you unless you verbally asked for it, most of the time she’d just let her gaze rack shamelessly over you.

She adored your body, and that was not an understatement, it didn’t matter what you did, if you used the products she’d spoilt you with or even didn’t do anything to pamper your appearance at all, she still sat in awe every time, in her eyes, you were perfect.

And luckily for you, she wasn’t the type to deny you for long. It only took a few tempting looks and discreet leg spreading for her to give in, soon having you splayed on the large king queen sized bed.

Now she could really look at you.

Sevika would definitely be possessive over you.

Which for you, meant there were a lot of rules. Revealing clothes? Only for her eyes, but there were occasions she’d purposely send you out with certain attire, she liked showing you off.

If there was an occasion you’d try seduce her, she’d most likely tease you with dump play, and brush the attempts off for a good while before even considering actually touching you.

The only downside was if you even tried to force it on her, like you’d done once or twice; straddle her lap, twirl her hair, or put your hands on her? you’re not getting anything.

She’d make it clear who was in control; sit you beside her, on the floor.

Talk down to you and even extinguishing the end of her cigar onto the skin of your shoulders. Before kissing the little blisters better, of course.

I feel like Jinx would be good at clothing design, you see a lot of fabrics reused in her wardrobe. So who’s to say she wouldn’t make you things time to time?

Vibrant multi patterned lingerie, patches sewed into and over the mesh in places that needed to be bigger, or she’d staple edges together to make it a bit smaller.

And if you wore it?

Her hands would be all over you, she didn’t need to be seduced to already have you pulled up against her, feeling over your hips, your back, your chest; especially your chest.

She had zero self control when it came to you, she was infatuated.

You never realised how easily Vi could give into your antics, you’d always expected her to be the one bossing you around, that she would be the one with the self control.

You were quickly proven wrong, if you even had an inch of skin lower than your cleavage visible, or the beginning of your upper thighs peeking out… she was a mess.

It was almost pitiful how easily she’d fall for advances.

You sit yourself in her lap? Her hands would tremble on your sides, stuffing her face into your shoulder.

And if you teased her? Rolling your hips, and yet not allowing her to touch anymore skin then what was exposed?

She would whine, calloused fingertips dragging across your shoulders.

But luckily for her you didn’t have the heart to prologue it, and within a few minutes deep purple hickeys scattered every inch of skin she could reach.

- Owl 🌹

[pellucid-constellations]

Set in Stone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The Court of Nightmares is an evil place. Secret agendas, forced marriages, malicious intent; there’s nothing good or pure. But then Azriel finds you.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Angst but just a little to start

a/n: hi 😌 please enjoy my random inspo after the mess that is my life happened. I plan to write more for these guys so consider this a prologue :)

Masterlist ♡

~~

Time moved slower in the library. 

People spoke quieter, the air stood still, dim sunlight stiffened in lines that cut across endless tables. 

There was no real reason for you to be here. 

None at all. 

You welcomed the faint buzzing in your ears anyway, relished in the quiet you couldn’t find elsewhere. Flipping the page and going to the next, you pretended you did belong. Maybe as a scholar or researcher. Maybe an acclaimed author. An inventor, entrepreneur, alchemist—anything but the bleak reality. 

You were stuck. So, incredibly stuck. 

The high lord was coming today. You knew if you weren't in the hall with your family upon his arrival you would get an earful, but it was difficult to pull away from your beautiful corner of the night court.

No one ever came in here, and if they did they were over a millennium old and cared only for the books on foreign policy and probably the torture of young children, if you had to take a guess. But there was plenty of enjoyable material lining the shelves. Sure, it wasn’t very joyful, but it was informative, and anything was better than listening to your father blab on about your marriage prospects—an uncomfortable conversation that was to come to fruition any day now. 

With any luck, your husband would be a merchant who traveled endlessly or a soldier whose life would come to a quick end, leaving you free of any wifely obligations. But luck was hardly on your side, and as the daughter of a noble you were expecting a husband of the same station. 

And dukes were the absolute worst, all self-important and stagnant.  

An unfamiliar echo sent your head whipping to the side before you could tame your reaction. The library door swung open with such force it sent dusty air flying past your face. Typically, the old men entered meekly, the hefty door difficult for them to open. The abruptness of this entry, the power that seeped across the threshold, had you standing and pressing yourself against the table in milliseconds. 

You weren’t a fighter. Women were not allowed to learn anything of the sort here. You briefly debated if your embroidery skills would be enough to pose a threat to this presence, but that thought wisped away with the flickering shadows twining around your ankles. 

You didn’t recognize him at first. The high lord and his circle didn’t come to court often, and even when they did, they stayed far away on the dais or slinked around in hallways threateningly. And this man especially—the spy—he was almost always cloaked in shadow. 

His shadows weren’t covering him now, instead opting to twist up your body in a terrifying display. Were they searching you? Attempting to suffocate you? Paralyze you? 

It didn’t matter much, not when the shadowsinger himself was standing before you, exposed and armed to the teeth, his amber eyes locked on your own widened gaze. 

Your breath came out in short pants, uncomfortable and hard to capture. Your knuckles went white against the table, and you were sure if you were stronger, fractures would have appeared in the wood. The edge dug into your back. Shadows continued to make paths up your skin. 

The spymaster didn’t look away. 

The trembling began. It started with your jaw, then your legs, and then your chest. Breathing became nearly impossible. 

“Take care of that.” 

The last time the high lord made his rounds in court, those words had been a death sentence. One the man before you had carried out. A simple flick of his wrist and shadows had encased the lowly merchant that had insulted the high lady. His screams still echoed in the hall. 

At least, they echoed for you. 

The merchant was not a good man. Most that resided in the night court were not good people. But death was easy to come by here, and the shadowsinger—with his glaring siphons only inches away—was an executioner. 

Your life was little, meaningless, no direction or purpose other than marriage and continuing a family line, but you wanted to live for the chance of more. For the hope that one day, you might be free of this dank palace. 

Something softened in the spymaster’s eyes, and then he took a step forward, edging his hand towards you, palm up. The screeching of the table at your back made him halt. Your knees were shaking, your book now toppled over to the floor, and the shadows had refused to answer the call from their master. But you stood your ground, expecting a bruise where the table connected to your skin. 

“I apologize,” the Illyrian spoke, causing you to flinch once again. His own features seemed to recoil, and he took half a step back. “I am here on business for the high lord. I only seek the artifact room.” 

If you answered him, perhaps he would spare you. 

Your mouth opened and closed several times before the first sounds left your lips. “In the back. B-by the archives.” 

He nodded, but the action seemed delayed, slowed. As if he was measuring your reactions, trying to anticipate them. When you didn’t flinch again, he sent his hand out once more, this time with more force. Your breath caught, but when the shadows retreated from your body, some of the tension left you. 

The shadowsinger sidestepped, taking the longest route possible around your table toward the artifact room. Once his back was turned, you scrambled. You left the book spine up on the floor, quickly gathering your belongings with shaking hands and trembling fingers. The echoing of the man’s heavy boots rang with each step he took, but it was reassuring—it meant he was getting further and further away. 

It wasn’t until your hand met the sturdy door that fear crept back along the edges of your chest. 

“Your name?” 

The words were powerful, gravelly, but they were soft somehow. Effortfully tamed. 

You gave him your name, but the sound was lost in the swinging of the door.

[am-i-interrupting]

Can’t Go Back | Silco x Reader

Prologue

Summary: You had a long, complicated history with Silco before he became the Eye of Zaun. You thought you’d buried it a long time ago. It all starts to re-emerge from the ground when Vander dies and Powder is found in the hands of Silco.

Life in the Undercity was anything but easy. Never had been, never would be. Things never changed down there. It always stayed the same despite being at the foot of the City of Progress. Piltover kept up with all the new trends but never tried to change or shine their shoes.

No, life was almost guaranteed to be dictated if you were born in the slums. Few ever got to a place where they saw the sun instead of smog.

No one cared about you if you were a child. You didn’t get any type of education. You just had to grit your teeth as you stumbled through life hoping to find something, anything.

When you were fifteen you got sent to the mines. They put a hammer in your hands or gloves on them and you were sent to harbor materials for a city that didn’t give a shit about you for fuck all for pay. Sometimes you made it out. Sometimes you didn’t.

You were considered a lucky one. You grabbed onto every rock and stone and placed your feet in any divot you could. You didn’t care that your hands were scrapped and raw. You were leaving a blood trail for anyone to follow if they could.

What you had on your side was that you were a smooth talker. Able to make people relax and enjoy your company was an art form you worked very hard on. It was the only type of study you ever did.

The good thing about Piltover not giving a shit though is when you disappeared from the mines with no trace, they didn’t bother looking for you. Took the words of the people who said you probably up and died or some shit.

Now you just needed to avoid the swipe of the hands that picked people off the street and beat them until they were submissive. Enforcers didn’t care what you looked like, who you were, how nice or kind (though few were down here), they just wanted you to work and they’d do it by any means.

Babette took good care of her workers. She scared the daylights out of you when she scouted you. Taking notice of how you managed to sweet talk a man down on his prices while simultaneously swiping some things from his stand without him noticing.

She had watchful eyes though. She saw things that couldn’t even be seen. That day she had seen something no one was supposed to but instead of turning you in like some would, she offered you a job of sweet talking.

Babette’s had a bathing room. It was filled with fancy soaps and hair products, stuff for calluses and skin. All of it was stuff you’d never used before and didn’t know how to.

The older woman had no qualms showing you how.

With bubbles in the tub and floating through the air, she dipped her wrinkled hands in the water with you, getting them wet. She flipped a cap open and poured a thick, white substance from the bottle. Rubbing her hands together it almost disappeared. Then she started rubbing it through your hair.

She explained that the solution was to be left in your hair for five minutes before rinsing it. In that time she handed you a fabric scrub to use on your body. After scrubbing every inch of your body, it was time to rinse out the conditioner.

Babette handed you a towel to dry yourself with and then ordered you to sit as she grabbed a smaller towel. She used it to scrunch up your hair, stopping the dripping from trailing down your back.

You let her careful hands travel across the planes of your face as she placed different cleansing and moisturizing products on your face.

By the end of it all you understood what she meant when she said that this was not just for the clients but for you as well.

With a giant weight off your back and a steady income from nights spent at her brothel, you were able to ditch the mines. Do a big fuck you moment of victory and renting an apartment under the table when you stopped paying your previous rent. That way when they looked for you as much as they would, all they would find was an empty apartment in disarray. Made to look like there’d been a struggle. You had no qualms cutting yourself to splatter some blood around.

Babette had qualms though, shaking her head the next time she saw you as she put an antibiotic on your open cut.

With a new job, you had a new income but the only reason you’d be able to leave the mines was the money you’d saved while working there. That meant a new job.

It came in the form of a bartender job at a bar called The Last Drop. It was a small, quaint little place. As soon as you walked in you felt a warmth so rare in the Undercity.

A man, a tall man with a square face to match his broad shoulders and physique was the man training you when you started. His name was Vander.

He teased you the whole night with smart quips in his soothing low toned voice. The two of you bantered with costumers together with ease. Him poking at your lack of experience behind a bar to which you’d respond with a clever quip and the abilities of someone who was a very fast leaner.

You didn’t notice a man sitting in a booth who normally sat at the counter but Vander did. He noticed a careful study being conducted of the new meat in the building.

Little did you know that both these men would change your life. For the better? For the worst? Didn’t matter. It’d be changed.

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

Prologue

(a/n: Hey everybody! First time writing here, so please 🙏 excuse my poor looking posts and grammatical errors /let me know if u see any!!/ English is not my first language so pls take that into account O.O tyy ❤️)

WARNING!-there's i think one swear word

wc: 2.8 k words im sry really, like i yap a lot 😭

ALSO: please let me know if you're interested in the continuation

Imagine that in addition to your logical thinking, communicational skills and physical performance, Blue Lock also tests your mental health, because if you excel in these 4 areas, you might be worthy to become a manager of one of their players. However, competing with 199 other girls who are going through the same ordeal, let's admit, doesn't really calm your nerves. But how did you even end up in Blue Lock in the first place?

—————— Saturday morning, sitting in the corner of a nearby coffee shop, with your books open, laptop fully charged, your phone on silent mode with of course, a cup of caffeine on the side, you are ready to conquer those history notes. You had already started to memorize everything the previous week, so today was really about practicing and revising. After cracking your back and sipping some coffee, you began reading the first few lines on your laptop, occasionally peeking at the highlighted parts of your book in case you got stuck.

Time passed quickly, and when you looked at the clock on your phone screen, it turned out that you had been repeating ridiculously difficult names, dates, places and events which were described in an awful lot of detail for exactly 1 hour and 32 minutes. Seeing that, you decided to take a well-deserved break, which actually just consisted of texting and watching funny cat videos.

Closing your laptop and books, you gave yourself half an hour to rest, so that time wouldn't double leading to you procrastinating and forgetting everything you'd just revised. Reaching for your phone and turning off the silent mode, you started reading the few messages that had come in during your study session. Most of them were sent from your best friend, briefly stating that she had fallen asleep and will probably have stay up all night to cramp whatever material she can get into her head, hoping that she somehow manages to pass on Monday.

“Told ya to set an alarm >:( Well, you should have accepted my offer to study together HAHAHA good luck btw :D”-you wrote in response, feeling kinda sorry for her. Then you went straight to your emails after seeing a notification, where you found a recently received message with a strange title.

“BLUE LOCK INVITATION”

What the hell is Blue Lock? And why did you get an invitation? Your initial thought was that it’s a scam and were trying to delete the email if your stupid finger hadn’t slipped, making it press and open the email. Great, now your eyes were glued to the screen, trying to read whatever was on the message.

“Dear L/N Y/N!

We are honored to invite you to the Blue Lock Manager Training Program, where you will be granted the chance to work with one of our future star football players. We hope you will consider the offer because this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you are interested, please come to the following address and time.

Any further questions will be answered on-site!

Blue Lock Assistant and Health Manager,

Anri Teieri”

Um, what the fuck. Yeah, doesn’t sound sketchy at aaall…as you read the letter over and over again, trying to make sense of it, not understanding how they even knew about your existence in the first place and more importantly…how did they get your email address? Although that wasn’t the point, it piqued your interest. You had so many questions yet you could only get answers on the spot.

“Smart tactic.”-you said, before browsing the internet to find something about this Blue Lock project. About 20 minutes later though, you leaned back into your chair and sighed in defeat as there was not a single thing about Blue Lock at all. The only thing you had was this quite fancy looking email.

Finishing the rest of your coffee, you began to think about the offer and whether or not to go. Your current job wasn’t good neither was the payment, which is why you recently had to take on a second job. But from what you read about the program, if you were to actually work with a soon to be star football player, the pay would probably be high. Plus, how hard can it be to manage a person, right?

After thoroughly thinking about the offer, you decided to give it a chance. Finishing the rest of your work, you came home and talked to your parents somehow persuading them to agree. Later that day you also informed your best friend as well. The weekend passed as you successfully finished your history exam on Monday and then you headed straight to the so-called Blue Lock building, the very next day. ——————

That's how you ended up in your current situation. On your first day there, they led you to a big hall with a bunch of people. To be specific, young girls around your age. Looking around for a bit, you realized that there were a lot of girls indeed, but no boys in sight. Finding it a bit strange, but shrugging it off, you turned around to face a huge stage, where moments later a pink-haired woman appeared, whose name you assumed and now know is Anri, introduced herself and greeted you from a big podium with a mic in her hand.

Finishing the brief intro she then continued with a very thorough and detailed speech, revealing that if you agreed to the conditions of the program, you would technically be locked up in the building for the next 3 months and would participate in intensive training, where you potentially could be eliminated for poor results.

“There goes my money…”-you thought, since you never really cared about football in your life nor did you know anything about it. Which in retrospect, you should have done or researched a bit before coming here since you applied to be a football player's manager after all.

“Well, it doesn't matter now anyway.”-you told yourself for some comfort. After Anri had finished her monologue, she instructed everyone that:

“If you agree and ready to take on the challenge then please go through this door!”-pointing with her microphone at a huge dark blue door that was slowly opening.

Hesitating a bit, you thought about all the possible things that could go wrong, but after a not-so-long train of thoughts you managed to convince yourself. Also that little push by a girl running towards the doors sealed the deal for you as you slowly started to walk towards the unknown.

“I mean, what can I lose, right? My sanity is gone already and even if I get eliminated, I'm just going to go back to my normal life again”-you whispered and with a small grin you officially entered Blue Lock.

To your surprise, the facility was quite clean and not to mention huge since most likely somewhere on the other side of the building, boys were kicking balls and running laps. Following the others, you arrived in what you assumed was a large waiting room with multiple TV screens on the walls. After managing to squish yourself through the crowd, a sudden voice spoke from the speakers and an egg-headed guy with a strangely perfect bowl cut appeared on the screens, introducing himself.

“Hello, diamond grinders! My name is Jinpachi Ego, the coach of the players in Blue Lock and the overall boss of the facility. I guess you already know why you’re here so I won’t bother with that anymore. First, let’s start with a quick count, which is...currently 200 people.”-he said and you looked around with wide eyes. The fact is, there were indeed many people besides you, but you didn't think such a large amount of them would participate.

'Pfft, no worries…'-you encouraged yourself, realizing that you’d probably get kicked out on the second day, if not today. You looked up to the screens again, and bowl cut continued.

“Out of these 200 people, the best performers will be given the best athletes to work with. But! You have to know what you’re doing. From now on, every minute of your time will be spent, from morning to night according to a routine and the underperformers will be eliminated. Understand?”

You nodded unconsciously, following those around you. This was serious and there was no turning back now. Even so looking at that man’s gaze as he spoke somehow made you shiver a little.

'What have I gotten myself into?'-the question suddenly popped into your head, making you doubt for a moment, if you being here was truly a good decision, but Ego's voice immediately made you get back on track.

“Great. Let’s start with a quick summary then. First, you will be divided into 20 teams, 10 people each. This division was based on your current abilities, but they can change over time while you’re here. Each week, the levels to pass are going rise and be harder, and those who can't pass will automatically fail and get eliminated."-he said leaning back into his chair.-"Next, is the routine which the assistant will tell you about in detail later. The goal here in Blue Lock besides creating football players, is to produce ideal managers who have the perfect skills and attitude to fit with them, and to maintain their level, helping them until the end of their careers.-he suddenly raised his index finger and the screens showed what looked like an animation of whatever he was about to say.-"This includes, one: Strategic and logical thinking, two: A healthy and fit body and three: The highest levels of media and communication! If you perform well in these three main areas, then a job and the experience of a lifetime are guaranteed! Don't disappoint me! Now lock off and goodbye for now!”

With that, the egg-headed man finished his speech, disappearing from the screens and Anri, with a microphone in her hand, started to divide everyone up, while handing out papers with our new weekly routine printed on it. Seems like you have been assigned to group number 10. That's not bad, but were your abilities really worth as much to be a team 10 member? So far you have only (tried) to manage your own life and your current football knowledge was equal to zero. But there was no time left for further thoughts, because after receiving the uniform you had to immediately start on the first task according to your assigned routine for the day.

—————— Okay. This was harder than you thought. Wiping off the sweat from your forehead, you started running your seventh lap around the damn track again.

"I’m gonna pass out.”-you muttered under your breath, as your newly made friend, you’d just met a few days ago appeared next to you.

“Same, I'm too tired to be running around in the morning!”-she replied, and after a few seconds the sound of a whistle was heard, signaling the end of the first part of the warm-up. Well, today was going to be long again.

Your new routine consisted of starting your mornings at exactly 7 am with physical exercises and then, you had a quick breakfast. After that you had to start on some brain work tasks for the day, followed by communication class and lunch. A 15 minute break later, media and IT started and before finishing the day with a small workout again, were language lessons waiting for you. Yes. You also had to learn languages.

Unfortunately not just one, not two or three, but four fucking languages in which you had to reach a basic level. At least the variety was good, since now you knew how to say hello in French, German, Italian and Spanish. (multilingual queen slay) And then based on those you could decide which one you wanted to work on more and reach at least an intermediate level. If that was not enough, the knowledge of English was also mandatory, but at an advanced level. Also for every other day there were talks, activities and tasks about basic football for those (like you ^_^) to have a grasp on the topic. So there you were, in full uniform everyday for the last two months, suffering through training.

It almost hurts to admit, but on some days you started to miss your simple, slightly boring school life. Thinking back to your friends and parents who you hadn't talked with in a while, to those boring classes and your warm bed. Training was hard since other than having to excel at the 3 fields, worrying that you could get eliminated at any moment, if you lacked behind was stressing you out even more than you already were. On top of that, seeing that some of the girls were kicked out of the building was saddening, yet it worked like a charm to make you work even harder to survive till the end.

Sure, it’s not like it wasn’t good here since you arrived. Luckily, you quickly adapted to the new environment, getting used to the shared bathrooms, roommates, the extreme routines and plans you had to follow and the surprisingly good canteen food. But the lack of 'fresh air'of the bustling Tokyo, the crowded places, the subways and the fact you could sleep in on the weekends certainly made a void in your heart. The mountains were a beautiful view, but you started to get bored of them after a while.

That's how you usually spent the rest of your days with. Time also flew a lot quicker with your new friends who you suffered with together until they finally announced the end of the program, ordering everyone to gather in the waiting room. Everybody arrived on time and just a few minutes later bowl cut finally appeared on the screens again. —————— “Yo, diamond grinders! Congrats on surviving till now. Looking at your data and statuses, I'm pretty much satisfied with everyone. Well, it doesn't matter now, since the results are already decided.”-Ego said in a voice that lacked emotions yet again. Still the boredom and lack of sleep were evident on his face, noticing his eye bags and the empty cups of ramen in the background that he didn't even bother to clean up. He coughed a little before continuing.-“After analyzing every single one of you on each field, I have decided on which player to assign you, based on these factors and scores. Let's start now, shall we?"-he asked and a little icon of the first girl who was about to be assigned, appeared on the TV screens, showing her name and the team she belonged to.-"First of all, congratulations to Aiko Hashimoto…”-he said a girl's name that felt unfamiliar to you, and then went on with, what you assumed was the player's jersey number and the name of who she would be managing from now on. Meanwhile on the big screens the footballer's little icon made an appearance as well next to Aiko's.

Ego soon continued with announcing the girls by their rank and time seemed to slow down the moment he started speaking again. After a while, at least 20 minutes have passed, yet your name was nowhere to be heard. Even your closest friend was now assigned to some boy, while you were still waiting for your turn. 'Did you do that well? Maybe they just forgot to kick you out.'-you assumed after another 5 minutes passed. Listening to Ego as he was still announcing names, you glanced around at the remaining girls who seemed confident while standing, not hearing their names yet. They seemed certain that they were getting one of the top players you thought, while you, yourself were still unsure who you would end up with. Before any more thoughts could occupy your mind, the sound of a familiar name hit your ears.

“Next up is L/N Y/N.”-you heard from the speakers and finally your little icon also turned up on the screens. Oh my gosh, it’s you! Wait who was before you again? What numbered player are we even at now?!

Blinking twice, you looked up to the main screen, staring at the miniature doddle of you, while Ego was about to say the lucky guy's name you were going to work with. A sudden rush of excitement and worry began to overwhelm you, anxiously waiting to hear the fruit of your 3 months of suffering. Sure, you did do well in all areas required and even gained some knowledge about football in general, but was it enough? Every girl here did their best, trying equally hard, afraid of missing the opportunity of a lifetime and getting kicked out of the facility.

You gulped ready to hear whatever and whoever was waiting for you on the other side of Blue Lock. Ego’s voice rang through the waiting room as he said the following:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…”

(Oh my gosh, this was a long one, hope you guys enjoyed it ^^; i wasn't sure about this story since it's my first one, so pls let me know if you are interested in a continuation and tell me, who you think will get u as their manager? (★‿★) tyy

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 1]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): blood, gore, cannon-typical violence

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

Your head throbbed, and cradling it with your hand only turned it into a piercing pain rather than dulling it.

You were careful as you worked to stand up. It was hard to grab hold of anything sturdy enough to support your weight, and upon closer inspection, it turned out you were taking a power nap in a pile of garbage. And, boy, was that shit rank.

You stumbled your way onto solid ground whilst picking gunk-covered plastic from your shirt and hair.

The surroundings that greeted you were unlike anything you could imagine. The sky appeared polluted with red smog so thick you couldn’t see the sun, though it didn’t smell like the kind of pollution you were used to. Rather than chemical, it stank of smoke and decay.

Every breath you took of this new atmosphere felt thick and raspy. You weren’t sure you could really even consider it breathable. You were probably inhaling a handful of carcinogens by the second.

From what you could see through the gap of the two buildings that made up the alley you were in, there was a city. It was as if the materials of the buildings were selected to complement the sky. Everything was a different shade of red or burgundy. The plumes of smoke that tunneled up in the distance were mildly concerning, though they didn’t seem to be an immediate threat.

It was all enough to drive a clear sense of dread through your gut. No way in Hell were you supposed to be here. You should be on your way to Devon’s place- No, you were at Devon’s place, in their living room.

And now you were…well, you didn’t really know. That was kind of the problem.

The panic only truly set in after you tripped, scraping your knees on the filthy cement. You didn’t want to know what caused that dark brown, slightly chunky stain. Turning to face the lump that caused your stumble, your stomach plummeted. Face paled.

That was a corpse. A whole not-so-human corpse. Mangled and lying motionless in a pool of blood that was beginning to dry.

In an instant, you threw yourself off of the ground, backpedaling away from the body. What on Earth could have caused their limbs to bend in so many directions? On second thought, you hoped it would stay a mystery.

You couldn’t ruminate on it for long before you felt something large grab your shoulder, hoisting you around so your back was facing the alley. You winced as the grip grew tighter and looked up to see a green-skinned man with jagged teeth protruding from his mouth. 

In that instant, it felt as if your heart had been launched a thousand feet in the air.

His pitch-black eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to your face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move or utter a single word. His grip moved to your neck, turning your head around so he could see you from every angle. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, he brought his nose to your cheek and inhaled deeply.

“A human,” he said in a grumbly voice. You could see a corner of his lips curl into a wicked smile. “That’s a first. It’d be a shame to let you go to waste.”

Go. You had to go.

To have a freeze-response in a situation like this was a death sentence. You hadn’t the slightest clue what this man’s–this thing’s–intentions were with you, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be pleasant.

You had to move. Even if it was just an inch, just enough to convince yourself that you still could. You would take either fight or flight over this.

“Is that soul still living?”

Your eyes flicked over to the source of the new voice. A tall, reptilian-looking creature with eyes that seemed to be bugging out of its head. They were no more comforting than the man who was only a few inches away from strangling you.

“Fuck off! I found ‘er. She’s mine!” Apparently, the lizard-man was enough to draw your assailant’s attention away from you.

Lizard-man did not in fact fuck off. That response was the confirmation that only further drew him in. Looking around, you noticed other inhuman creatures turning their attention toward the three of you.

The lizard-man made a sudden lunge for you, digging claws into the green man’s arms. He hollered out in pain with an endless string of curses.

In that moment, you felt his grip on you loosen, and you dropped to the ground like dead weight. This was your chance. Likely your only chance before both of them pounced on you at once. Maybe more by the looks of the other creatures closing in, as well.

Relief washed over you as you slowly moved your arm to push you up. The mental confines over your body had been released, and just in time. You were able to clumsily roll out of the way as the men threw each other to the ground, and with wobbly legs, you promptly hauled ass out of there.

You could hear screams of rage and surprise as you shoved through the people on the street, apologizing occasionally. You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into the back of your head, and you were almost certain that some had given chase.

The odd buildings blurred past you. You may have caught a glimpse of a shop with televisions on display and another that looked as though human limbs were hanging on meat hooks, but this was no time for window shopping. All of it caused your head to spin from both physical and emotional whiplash.

The first corner you turned revealed a massive light-up sign that towered above everything else with text saying, “Welcome to Hell.”

What kind of twisted joke was this?

You ducked into another alleyway. Nobody was around, but you could still hear yelling close behind you. Your heart felt as though it stopped for a second as you took notice of a massive barricade blocking off the only exit. The first sliver of your luck finally showed itself to you in the form of a small gap that could be just big enough for you to fit.

You were forced to slow down in order to wiggle your way through it, allowing your pursuers to catch up. Just when you thought you had cleared the blockade, that big green hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back.

You cried out and pulled as much as you could until your foot slid out of your sock, successfully freeing you. Padding barefoot through this wretched city wouldn’t be pleasant, but you were sure it was better than whatever those things had planned for you.

As you pushed back into a sprint, you heard the green man’s voice screaming at the others about how he wouldn’t let them through before him. That was fine by you. He was much too big to fit through that hole, and you doubted he could scale the wall completely. If he was dead set on not letting anyone pass before him, then you probably had all the time in the world. Even so, you wouldn’t feel safe until you could get as far as your legs could carry you. 

So, ignoring your burning lungs and pounding heart, you pushed forward. Through the streets that grew more and more disheveled, collapsed buildings, cracked and upheaved asphalt roads. The lack of shoes only made it that much worse as your feet were getting sore. You were slowing down, but you refused to stop until you found someplace suitable to take refuge.

After the last main row of the city, there was a hill. And on top of that hill, there was a hotel.

Or so the sign on it said. Happy Hotel.

You could tell it was probably supposed to light up, but it wasn’t on, either because it was daytime (you assumed) or the bulbs were burnt out. Both seemed equally likely. The place was massive but appeared to be a hodgepodge of things all shoved into one, a cruise ship crashed into one side, a train on top of the roof… But despite its general run-down appearance, the stained glass windows remained untouched as if they were brand new.

It would be a gamble on whether this place was inhabited or not, but at least it was out of that shit show of a city. Probably the safest thing you’d come across thus far.

Besides, it was a hotel. Maybe you still had one of your cards in your pocket. If not, there was always Apple Pay, right?

The final push up the hill really did you in, leaving you panting and covered in sweat at the front door. You were dying to sit down and rest, but you wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so until you were inside. 

Seeing the building up close left you even more confused about whether or not the place was still running. The majority of the double front doors were stained glass with an apple shape in the center of each. It was quite beautiful. But at the same time, the edges of the frame appeared chipped and rotted, showing the building’s true age.

You were just thankful when the door creaked open without a fight. You didn’t want to resort to breaking in through one of those wonderful windows. With how loud it would be, you might as well scream out your arrival.

Aside from some of the detailed woodwork and repetitive apple iconography, the inside of the hotel was a bit sad to put it frankly. Little to no furniture. Cobwebs coating everything. The chandelier holding on by a thread (maybe the cobwebs were preventing it from falling). There was a minifridge, though!

You couldn’t imagine you would be lucky enough to find a cold bottle of water in there, but you decided to check to be sure. The cool air alone, wafting out as you opened its door, alleviated some of your discomfort. Unfortunately, there was no water or any beverage, for that matter. Inside were a couple of applesauce(?) cups and a styrofoam take-out container.

The fact that there was anything at all was concerning as it was a bit of confirmation there were already inhabitants. You would need to keep looking for a safe place to stay unless they ended up being the odd few in this town that weren’t out for blood.

On cue, cool metal prodded the back of your neck as you were closing the fridge, and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” asked the person behind you. Their voice was cold and harsh, and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. So much for going unscathed.

“I was just looking for somewhere to rest. I’m sorry for intruding,” you said just above a whisper, raising your hands instinctively. 

“You want to stay here?” a chipper voice cut through the air, echoing a bit in the large, empty foyer. They sounded almost happy you were trespassing. “Vaggie, this could be our first guest!”

“Babe, the hotel isn’t even open yet,” the first voice sighed before the metal was pulled away from your skin. You took that as an invitation to turn around.

Before you stood two young women–you’d guess late teens or early twenties. They were the most human-like people you had the pleasure of coming across since waking up in a hot pile of garbage. The only thing that threw you off was their grey and porcelain white skin tones. It was as if they were pulled out of a black-and-white movie from the ‘50s.

You’d take what you could get at this point. At least they didn’t have scales.

“We’ll just have to move up our grand opening then,” the taller girl sang with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. She bounded over to you, squatting down to meet you at eye level. “Would you be interested in a shot at redemption? It doesn’t matter what you’ve stolen or who you’ve murdered. Everyone deserves a second chance!”

Was this chick for real? What did redemption have to do with a hotel? And why would you need to be redeemed?

Your mouth hung open as your eyes bobbed between the two strangers.

“Wait a second…” The shorter girl–who you realized was the one holding a fucking spear to your neck–suddenly went wide-eyed. “You’re a human. Jesus, she’s a human!”

The blonde stared at her for a moment before turning back to you with knit eyebrows.

“Really? How do you know?” she asked with a tilt of her head as her eyes darted all over you, looking for some tell-tale sign of your humanity.

In what world is it surprising to see a human? You hadn’t been shipped to Mars. That you were certain of. 

Then you came to your own realization. 

Devon must have drugged you! That was the only way this could make any sense. Was it acid? LSD? You’d have to ask them after you sobered up. Or maybe after you wring their scrawny little neck, because the therapy you’d need after this was sure to cost a fortune.

The hand that landed on your shoulder caused you to flinch. The shorter girl–Vaggie–was kneeling in front of you now. Her touch was delicate as if she was worried she’d break you if she put enough pressure. A stark contrast to the way she treated you a minute ago.

“How did you get here?” she asked in a much softer tone than earlier.

You let out a huff of air, a sorry excuse for a laugh. You smiled, shaking your head as your body slumped back against the fridge.

“I don’t even know where here is,” you laughed. “I was in my friend’s apartment one second and being hunted down by a mob of demons the next.”

The two exchanged a look before helping you to your feet. They settled you down on a couch, one of the few pieces of furniture they had, and got you a glass of water to sip on. The scrapes and cuts you had gotten during your chase, or possibly before it, were treated to, as well. The foot that lost its sock was particularly nasty.

They introduced themselves and explained that you were in Hell. You reckon you should have figured that one out from the big-ass sign you saw while running for your life.

In return, you told them the last few things you could remember before ending up here. Helping your friend with a demon-summoning ritual and getting dragged through a glowing hole in the ground as a result.

“Sounds like that backfired a bit,” Vaggie said. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, a bit. That’s what I get for doing my friend a solid, I guess,” you shrugged, leaning back as you gulped down more of the water. 

“Oh, don’t say that. At the end of the day, you helped a friend, and you found us! And we’ll definitely make sure you get home safe and sound,” Charlie grinned as she gently placed a hand on your knee.

You gave a small smile in return. You’re not sure how much you believed in her words, but it was sweet of her to try to reassure you. Her hope was almost infectious, and you could use as much of that as you could get.

“Also, you’re totally welcome to stay here for as long as you need! We’ve got plenty of rooms, and I’m sure we’ll start getting more furniture soon, and if there’s any food you’d like us to get, we can–”

“Baby, slow down,” Vaggie chuckled.

“Sorry…I guess I’m just really excited. You would be our first guest, and I’ve also never seen a human other than my mom before, and even she’s a special case…” Charlie said, looking off to the side as she brushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.

“The only humans we technically have are the ones that die and are deemed sinners,” Vaggie explained. “But they take on a new appearance. Usually, it reflects something within their soul.”

Huh.

“That’s…interesting,” you said, eyebrows tightly furrowed together. What does being a lizard man say about that dude’s soul? And what about being green? Maybe it was his favorite color? Or maybe he was green with envy. Haha.

“So what do you say?”

You looked at Charlie to see her holding her hand out to you. If the two of you were making a deal, she wasn’t really getting anything out of it. It was pure charity work…

“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in return,” you said, taking her hand.

With that, the two young women gave you a brief tour of the hotel. It was still a work in progress, but you could see Charlie’s vision. If they just cleaned it up a bit and filled in the space, it would look livable. You would be more than happy to help with that if you ended up spending enough time there, though you hoped it wouldn’t take that long.

If you weren’t back soon, your place would start getting cobwebs. You also couldn’t miss too many days of work…PTO wasn’t infinite, and you had bills to pay. Your coworkers would also have it out for you if you left them short-staffed.

What if they started putting up missing flyers? Hopefully, they wouldn’t blame the coworker you convinced to go home early. She was the last person you were spotted with in public, after all. No one knew you were going to Devon’s, so it was unlikely they’d take the blame.

Maybe the guy you had been in a situationship with for the last several months would be their suspect. Most of your friends knew all about him (primarily because you’d bitch and whine so much), and it’s not uncommon for people to point fingers at the ‘partner.’

He raised a few red flags here and there, sure, but what man hasn’t? None of them were even close to kidnap-murder level. Mostly just picking his toes in public and swearing on his life that his exes were the crazy ones, not him. Nothing necessarily surprising.

You needed to stop worrying and start embodying Charlie’s confidence in the situation. You would find a way to get back. You would not be stuck in Hell long enough to raise alarm. You just had to manifest it!

Eventually, your hosts showed you to the room you could stay in. It was one of the few furnished ones besides their room at the moment. They also gave you a change of clothes after realizing just how dirty (and smelly) yours were after waking up in a trash heap. Plus, you had two socks again!

You met back up with them in the foyer when you were finished. They wanted to discuss possible ways you could get out of Hell, which you had absolutely no problem with. The two of them brainstormed for a bit while you just sat back and listened in. Vaggie brought up that some upper-class ‘hellborns’ had ways in and out of Hell, but she didn’t have any specifics.

You felt bad not contributing, but what did you know about traveling between the living world and Hell? Jack, that’s what. 

“Do you think your dad would know? He’s probably had to get to Earth for some reason or another, yeah?” Vaggie asked, but she was met with a grumble of a response.

“I don’t know…” Charlie said with a frown, all her hopeful energy zapped away in an instant. “He’s never been super helpful with stuff like this.”

“Come on, babe. If anybody would know, it would be him,” Vaggie pressed. “He’s gotta have something we could use.”

Charlie simply groaned as she threw her upper body over the arm of the sofa and sat like that for a minute or two. It was possible that she wasn’t on very good terms with her father. Or he was just exasperating to deal with.

You sent a worried look at Vaggie, because what were you supposed to do in this situation?

“Okay, yeah. We can swing by my old house tomorrow and poke around,” Charlie said as she stood up.

“Great, but you,” Vaggie jabbed her finger in your direction. “Get ready to wake up bright and early. We’ll have to make you presentable first.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Next Chapter

[novelmonger]

I am now (finally) embarking on the last of the LotR audio commentaries I never listened to before: the Production/Post-Production one, with Barrie Osborne (producer), Mark Ordesky (executive producer), Andrew Lesnie (director of photography), John Gilbert (editor), Rick Porras (co-producer), Howard Shore (composer), and Jim Rygiel (visual effects supervisor). A lot more Americans in this group than the previous ones have been. I feel much more out of my depth with this one in terms of figuring out who's talking, but let's see what new stuff they have to say for FotR!

The sound from when Sauron explodes comes from a bunch of sounds they recorded both inside and outside ships in the harbor, as well as the sounds of WWII airplane propellers.

The scenes with Gollum in the prologue were actually some of the last shots they filmed for FotR.

The farmers around the area where they filmed Hobbiton would warn them when people would turn up who weren't supposed to be there, with cameras and whatnot, as well as warning them when planes or choppers would be overhead, so they could prevent (as much as possible) from footage leaking before the movie was released. That warms my heart :)

They used the analogy of a "shell game" when talking about all the different techniques they used to keep the proportions of characters correct with their different sizes. Because they would switch up the techniques between shots, it helped sell the overall effect, because you're not just always looking at a scale double or a bluescreen or what-have-you.

In the scene with Bilbo and Gandalf in the kitchen, they used forced perspective, with the table cut in half so that everything is small for Gandalf and the right size for Bilbo. When Bilbo pours the tea into the teapot, Gandalf handles a small lid on his side, putting it on a little rod that holds it in the right position so it looks like it's sitting on the teapot. Meanwhile, the actual teapot is on Bilbo's side so he can pour the water into it. Also, when Gandalf is first sitting down at the table and turning to get his legs underneath it, if you look closely you can see that when he bumps up against it, the half of the table closer to the camera jiggles a little, but the other half doesn't because it was actually some 5-10 feet away.

In the shot at the party that pans down from the fireworks and the tree, the actual party with all the dancing and everything was shot in a set, so they had to go back to the Hobbiton location (which had already been cleared of the set at that point, I think) and match up that shot to get the tree, and then they composited it together.

The direction for that shot of Minas Tirith when Gandalf goes to research the Ring was to make it look like "Constantinople in the morning." This may be my favorite part of this commentary :)

They needed to scan actors' faces so they could have their digital doubles to work with for certain shots. When they brought in Ian McKellen to scan his face, they said, "We just need to scan your face in a neutral position." He said, "Neutral for me or neutral for Gandalf?" And he demonstrated his own neutral expression, and when he switched to neutral Gandalf, he looked completely different, pursing his lips and furrowing his eyebrows and sucking his cheeks in more. Truly the sign of a gifted actor who knows how to ply his craft.

In the scene where Frodo and Sam are trying to sleep on the road for the first time, originally they were going to end with some sort of animal sniffing around them. First it was a deer, and they also tried a rabbit and maybe some other animals (possible fox appearance???). But that part didn't even make it into the Extended Edition.

Something I never thought about that they had to pay attention to was, because Orthanc is made of shiny material, they had to consider the color and quality of the light reflecting off it. So when they filmed the real location, they would take the camera and pan around the location, then print out stills and put them up around the miniature when they filmed that part of the shot, so they could get the right colors to match each shot they would composite over it, so it would look like both were in the same place. Now that's what I call attention to detail!

On the night they shot the little chase sequence with the Nazgul in the forest, it was actually raining off and on, even though you can't really see it in the movie. That made the ground very muddy, so the Hobbits actually had to be carried back to their first position for each new take so they wouldn't get too much mud on their feet and clothes.

To get the sounds of the trees' "voices" when the orcs in Isengard tear them down, they actually used several animal sounds like whales, moreso than sounds recorded from actual trees.

Bob Anderson, the swordmaster for the films, said they needed to have five copies of every sword for every actor every day they were going to be fighting with them, because that's how likely it is for them to be broken (since the swords actors use for hitting each other are lighter and not made like a real sword). But Richard Taylor wanted to find a way to make the swords more durable, because there are a lot of swords in these movies. So Weta developed a technique to help the stunt swords redistribute the shock from hitting them against each other. They took polyurethane, which Mark Ordesky notes is the same material as skateboard wheels, and they made a sort of sheath of that under the surface of the hilt. None of the swords they made like that ever broke.

The tree that gets thrown down into the chasm in Isengard had to be a miniature so they could get it high enough to drop it as far as they wanted to (and so they wouldn't have to cut down a huge tree). But they had to add little springs and things to make the branches bounce and jiggle properly, rather than just break off, as they would if you just made a little model tree. Little details like that really sell the scale.

In the Nazgul horseback chase scene, they cleared a path for the horses to safely run through the forest. But then they would also get branches and put them on the car or whatever vehicle had the camera, so it would look like they were pushing through more dense foliage, while still keeping the actors and horses safe.

The Council of Elrond was the final piece of the sound mix they had to finish for FotR, and it was down to a matter of hours. One of the things they mentioned having difficulty figuring out what to do with was the moment when Frodo sets the Ring down on the plinth. Originally, there was going to be a murmur of the crowd watching, but it didn't seem to have the gravitas and stunned awe necessary for that moment, so they had to play around with a lot of things before Peter Jackson was satisfied with it.

When Gimli smashes the Ring with his axe, John Rhys-Davies was actually only holding an empty handle, and the axe head was added digitally later so it could shatter.

Barrie Osborne (I think?) commented on something at least Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan, especially Dom, started to do in order to make it more believable that the primary actors and the scale doubles are the same people. He noticed that their scale doubles tended to move and walk in a certain way (I assume partly because most of them were Little People, so their physique and proportions are a bit different), and so instead of leaving it up to them to mimic his movements, he started changing the way he moved to match them. That's just really cool.

Originally, they were going to do a bit of a flashback when Boromir asks Aragorn, "Have you ever seen the white tower..." etc. It would have been shot in the same place as the scene where Aragorn is visiting his mother's grave, and would feature Elrond talking to Aragorn about how he's the only one who can wield Anduril and how he needs to take his place as the king of Gondor.

For some of the close-up shots of Gimli in the scene where they first head into Moria, they actually had to use a double - not a scale double! an actual guy who was the same size as John Rhys-Davies! - because John had such a bad reaction to the facial prosthetics that he had to go a few days in between each time he put it on. But he'd had the prosthetics on the day before, and they didn't have time to wait until he could put them on again. So they had to find a double, put on the prosthetics and costume, and then John stood out of frame and spoke the lines, and the double mouthed the words along with him. I would never have guessed!

THANK YOU TO WHOEVER WAS TALKING AND I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RECOGNIZE YOUR VOICE FOR SURE, but someone was talking about "cinematic dark." In other words, how to light a scene so you can see everything that's happening even though you're in a place with hardly any light sources, like in Moria where the only light comes from the torch and Gandalf's staff most of the time. Instead of making it all really dark (*pointed stare at too many movies these days*), they shot it as if there is a source of light, but always very far away, like it's filtering through miles of rocky caverns or something. What that meant practically was that they would only light the characters in silhouette or from the side, never the front. So it would still give the impression that they're in darkness, but you don't have to strain at all to make out what's happening. They also desaturated the colors so everything looked muted, similar to how your vision kind of goes black-and-white in the dark.

One of the fundamental elements for the Moria goblin screeches was an opossum screech. There was some kind of opossum research facility in Wellington that they went to to record what became the foundation of the goblin sounds. Then they took them and re-recorded them in some WWII tunnels to get the right echoey reverb effect. And then for the sounds of them moving, they took sounds from insects like grasshoppers, as well as rattling seashells from the beach against the walls of the tunnels to get a scuttling sort of sound for when they come pouring out of holes in the ceiling.

You know that one shot where Legolas fires an arrow at a goblin archer and the camera follows the arrow all the way into his forehead? I always assumed that whole thing was all CG, but no! Even that had a practical element to it! They set up a camera on a sort of zip line with a bungee cord and sent it down as fast as it could go towards an actual stunt guy in costume! Now that's what I call above and beyond.

They shot a scene that didn't make it into even the Extended Edition of the Fellowship arguing about what they should do next after they leave Moria, with some members having misgivings about going to Lothlorien. I wish we could see that, even though I understand why they needed to keep things moving. They didn't mention if they actually shot this or if it was scrapped by the time they got that far, but there was also a mention of the entry to Lothlorien being much more frantic, as they're chased by orcs and then rescued by a sudden volley of Elven arrows.

There was also once a longer scene between Boromir and Frodo as they're waiting to see if Haldir will let them into Lothlorien. He tells Frodo a story of him getting over the death of one of his comrades. Um...I wanna see these extra scenes!!!

They wanted Lothlorien to feel ethereal and maybe almost slightly in a different universe, because of the Elves and especially Galadriel, who can see into hearts and minds. One of the ways they did that was by diffusing the light on the set so everything seems kind of dreamy. Another way they tweaked things was by bringing out the blues and edging them towards lavender. Yes, yes, Lothlorien is supposed to be golden, but after hearing the explanation about how lavender is actually one of the hardest colors to get to look right on film (the word used was "fragile") and to look good against skin tones, and therefore you don't see it very much in the movies, I can appreciate the subtle ways they tried to make Lothlorien feel distinct.

Originally, they were going to have a scene where the Fellowship goes through some rapids on the Anduin and get ambushed by orc archers. Ultimately, they decided they didn't need that as a story beat at that point, and it would have been very difficult to shoot anyway. Makes me wonder if that influenced the infamous barrel scene from the Hobbit movies, like they dug up some old plans for that....

Except for one wide shot where they used a scale double for Frodo, the entire confrontation between Boromir and Frodo was shot just with Sean Bean and Elijah Wood, no special effects, just strategic blocking and using the slope and different angles to their advantage to always make it look like Frodo is smaller than Boromir.

If I understood Howard Shore correctly, he was inspired to use a boy's choir for Boromir's death when he saw Boromir, after falling to his knees from the first arrow or two, looking up at Merry and Pippin. Boys singing at his death gives a sense of lost innocence, which is appropriate both to Boromir trying to take the Ring as well as to the lost innocence of losing the Hobbits. So it's not just a lament for Boromir, it's also his lament for (as he thinks in the moment, because he knows he's dying) failing the Hobbits.

The original mix for Boromir's death had all the sound effects at full volume, which made the moment even more brutal. Mark Ordesky was saying that he (and probably some others) was thinking it might be better if they pulled back on some of the sound and let the music be louder. Peter Jackson said, "Well, let's try it," and as soon as they turned down the volume, the entire room basically agreed immediately that's how they needed to do it. It's meant to sound and feel almost like you're sinking underwater as Boromir is dying, because that's how it would sound and feel for him.

Oh my goodness, further proof that studio execs shouldn't have a say in the story of a movie. New Line wanted the movie to end with Frodo and Sam paddling across the river, and then an Uruk bursts up from underwater and grabs Frodo, pulling him out of the boat. The Ring somehow comes off the chain, and the Uruk is so enamored with it that he ends up drowning while trying to grab it. Then Sam somehow gets Frodo (and the Ring) back into the boat. Thank goodness they came up with the much better ending we all know and love. Because the people actually involved with writing the movie and telling its story knew that the ending of FotR needs to be about the breaking of the Fellowship, about love and loyalty in the face of great evil. So that's why they went with the ending they did: Sam falls into the water and almost drowns, Frodo saves him, and that paves the way for the incredible emotional high of Frodo leaving the Fellowship, but Sam going with him. And just like Frodo is thinking about how Gandalf talked about how he was meant to find the Ring, Sam is thinking about how Gandalf told him not to leave Frodo. It all ties together so much better.

The last shot for the film was Boromir going over the waterfall. It was in the final cut of the movie just as a previs shot, and Barrie Osborne said he assumed it was going to be a CG effect or something. But finally, while Peter Jackson was in London working on scoring the film - so pretty late in the production - Barrie called him and asked when they were going to shoot that scene. Peter Jackson had forgotten about it! So Barrie had to shoot it, and since they didn't have the actors in New Zealand at that point, they had to get Weta to make a silicon dummy to shoot instead.

[casuallyanidiot]

The Beta Test | Prologue

[yandere male x gn reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

600+ words Tw. Swearing, mentions of alcohol and drug consumption, kidnapping, drugging Table of contents

The first thing that came to your groggy mind was: “Shit, I need to work on that research paper.”

The second was: “Oh my god I’m absolutely going to die right now.”

Now, normally when you would wake up somewhere random it wouldn’t be too weird considering the fact that you were a frequent presence at many parties occurring on and off your campus, but you couldn’t say that you had ever found yourself laying on the floor behind a set of bars. Well, the on-the-floor part you had. Just not all that other stuff. 

The first thing, and the most logical thing at that, to consider was that you had somehow wound up being arrested last night. While you would like to say that you were a very responsible person when it came to substances of various degrees, there would be times when you would end up getting swept up in the heat and frenzy of a good time and good music, hence the whole waking up in strangers homes thingy. You had never gotten into any trouble while being in a state like that, but hey, there was a first time for everything. You could only imagine how embarrassing you had behaved last night if you ended up in jail.

It really sucked that you had been arrested though. “What the hell am I going to tell my parents?” you thought with a groan as you pressed your hands to your face. Your knees were placed to your chest and the soft material of your pajamas-

Wait a damn minute.

You looked down to find that you were in fact wearing something that would only be taken to bed or to take out the trash. The stains and faded fabric were proof enough of their use, and there was absolutely no way you’d be wearing sleep clothes while getting blacked out at a party. When you actually thought about it for two seconds, it became apparent that yeah, you had been in your apartment wearing comfy clothes, preparing to actually study, and winding down for the evening before BOOM, Nothing. 

Your brows were furrowed and your lips were pursed as you wiped at your eyes. Your brain felt fuzzy, and the room ( cell?) was blurred. Though the second it cleared up you realized that you were utterly and unequivocally fucked.

Yes, you were inside a cell, on the floor, sitting on a little mat. The floor was gray and cold and hard, but on the other side of the solid metal bars was a kitchenette and a dining table. From what you could see with the virtually nonexistent lighting were clean white marble countertops and sleek wood accents decorating the entire other half of the room. It looked nice, like one of those backdrops that you would see some social media model posing in front of, pretending that they were cooking.

Oh, and there was this guy sitting on a chair just staring at you.

You blinked harshly in surprise. How you hadn’t noticed him before was beyond you, but to be fair you weren’t exactly in the clearest state of mind. Still despite the terror growing in your gut like a weed, you put on a wobbly, awful, nervous smile and said,

“ Oh hi, what’s up?”

[kurishiri]

Prologue ┊ The great detective Harrison’s book of incidents

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— harrison’s promised event, featuring william, ellis, victor, darius, and ring. congrats to our resident peppermint boy for making it to top 5 in the elections!

[CITY - NIGHT]

With clouds the color of lead thickly blanketing the winter sky, a man was running with bated breath.

???: hah... hah...!

Even with little control over his legs and on the verge of tripping, he couldn’t afford to stop.

——He had to run.

If he didn’t avert his eyes from reality, narrowing in on him, he couldn’t live on.

But...here to put an end to the chase was another individual.

Harrison: ——Stop right there.

The voice of the man with peppermint-colored eyes broke through the silence of the night.

And the running man’s shoulders jumped before he came to a stop.

The two men’s white breaths silently melted amid the cold air.

???: ...How did you know where I was?

Harrison: Easy. You left a great many clues in your room.

H: ...I think it’s about time you faced reality, isn’t it.

H: Running away won’t solve anything. Yeah?

???: But... I...! I left everything behind and ran this far now! How could someone like myself ever have a place to return to...

Harrison: Oh, there is a place to return to.

???: ...

Harrison: I’ll tag along in apologizing for neglecting your deadlines.

H: So, that’s why... let’s head back, mister author.

Author with a bed head: ...uuu— Harrisooon~!

(ｏ・_・)ノ”(ノ_<、)

[NIGHT SKY]

Indeed, the man running away was a mystery writer, a deadline hot on his heels.

Meanwhile, the one chasing after him was a man who — under normal circumstances — was responsible for editing in a publishing company...

...and was asked to find the runaway author: a man named Harrison Gray.

[CARRIAGE]

Harrison: I’ve got a message from the company. ‘We will extend the deadline, so don’t stress about it and come back.’

Author with a bed head: Well I sure am grateful for that! ...That said, I’ve reached a bit of a dead end.

Author with a bed head: I want to play around some more with the trick that shows up in the story’s endgame...

Harrison: If you end it as is, the readers will think it’s a great success, if you ask me.

Author with a bed head: The compromise of a writer will be conveyed to the reader as well. I can’t relax until the very end.

Author with a bed head: ...Oh, I know! Harrison, could you come up with some idea?

Author with a bed head: You sometimes share some mystery tricks with authors, don’t you?

Harrison: Unfortunately, I don’t have any such material on me right now.

Author with a bed head: I implore you...! Help me out here, please...!

Harrison: Hah... fine, okay. I figure if you run away again, I’ll have to find you yet again, anyhow.

[DINING ROOM]

Harrison: ——And so, with that, I’d like you guys to let me know if there’s any incident that happens around you, or any strange happenings about.

Liam: And then you’ll go and solve those incidents and come up with an idea for a trick through there!

Harrison: Exactly.

William: Alright then. If there’s anything, I will let the Great Detective Harrison know and have you get to the bottom of it.

Harrison: You seem like the last person who’d need a detective... but well, thanks.

Ellis: Me too, I’ll pay attention to anything that’s going on around me. If it will make you happy, that is.

Liam: Oh, with a detective comes an assistant! I’ll help out, Harry.

Victor: Well then, allow me to fulfill the role of the mysterious heroine who accompanies the detective——

Harrison: ——No need for a heroine. But I will take your assistance, Liam.

Liam: By all and every means!

[TYPEWRITER]

That which is about to be written henceforth is not a record of sin, but the records of six of their encounters with little mysteries.

The truth shall become clear in his hands.

[BLACK]

Now come the tales of the great detective through which not a single lie may escape——Harrison’s book of incidents.

masterlist 🔎 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Nevermore is a gothic tragedy. Part II: Supernatural Brides

I had set out to finish this saga of essays before Nevermore came back. And then I realized that all the fucking references I have on hand were going to require at least one essay for each. Which means a total of…at least four parts.

So I made it my goal to finish at least one. And since we're talking about tragedy, it seemed logical to continue with the gothic novel.

Before I start, I have to make a little disclaimer: most of my sources come from Spanish material that I'm not sure I have an English translation because they are loose essays I have from my college days and prologues to books from different publishers that are dedicated to publishing gothic novels. If you understand Spanish, I'll be happy to pass the material on to you if this interests you. But if you only understand English, I'm afraid I only have two sources for you: Supernatural Horror in Literature, an essay by H.P. Lovecraft on the foundations of cosmic horror that reviews the history of horror in fiction and The gothic quest a book of about 400 pages that describes in detail the history of the gothic novel, I hope the density of that work compensates for not being able to deliver more finished information.

Brief (seriously VERY brief) history of the gothic novel

Here is something a bit tangled, because the Gothic novel goes hand in hand with many of the topics of the literature of romanticism (literary movement with which it shares time) and it is also necessary to understand some historical and architectural issues.

Let's go by part: Romanticism is a literary and artistic movement that formally emerged in the second half of the eighteenth century (it is estimated that the first works of the same are dated from 1770, approximately) consisting of three parts: the so-called pre-romanticism, romanticism as such and late romanticism.

Anyway, even from its beginnings, this movement emerges as a series of anti-classical ideas that sought to recover folkloric and medieval elements, were obsessed with the inviduality of creativity, nostalgia for nature (something that would later become nostalgia for the time before the industrial revolution), considered passion and sentimentality as the creative axis and in general were looking to Greek tragedies and other fantastic tales as a source of inspiration.

This clashed with the strong Christian values of the time and the rise of technological advances. A contradiction that is present in the works of this literary movement.

Another important historical fact that is necessary to understand is that this kind of novel gets its name directly from Gothic architecture. These works were intended to take place in castles, monasteries, mansions belonging to ancient families and medieval cemeteries. The reason is simple: the Goths were considered shitty architects and many of these buildings had been abandoned for decades if not centuries by 1700, so you could walk down a path and simply find an ominous monastery or the remains of a mansion and if you asked someone where it had come from, they would probably tell you about 15 different versions, but all involving dead people and ghosts living there. As you may have gathered from the above, the writers of this period were eating this stuff up with fries.

It is with the convergence of all these elements that Horace Walpole's novel The Castle of Otranto was published in 1764. A text born from a nightmare that this man had in the castle of Strawberry Hill, a neo-Gothic property that belonged to him. The novel is mediocre at best, but it lays all the groundwork needed going forward: ominous ancient places full of legends where the crumbling architecture is a reflection of the moral and emotional corruption of the characters.

Feminine entities

One thing in which the Romantics differ from the Gothics is their view of love. In this era, love is perceived as a kind of force that is above the characters, something so beautiful that it is capable of making them completely lose their minds (this is tied to the concept of the sublime. And where the romantics embrace this concept as something beautiful, the goths say “this is fucking disturbing”.

For this reason many gothic stories are up to their necks in supernatural brides: beautiful ghosts dressed in white, beings that we consider references to nymphs who only need to whisper in the ears of their victims to become obsessed with them and, above all, vampires. Vampires whose description you will have in detail because the narrators of these stories spare no words to point out how beautiful they are.

Because these supernatural brides are there for one thing and one thing only: to make our sad male hero lose his mind with the power of their impractically long eyelashes. Sometimes they love them honestly and deeply, sometimes they are insidious, evil and lying; on more than one occasion both alternatives are true at the same time. But the reality of things is that, in the end, the love of these supernatural brides ends up completely destroying the unfortunate object of their affection.

If this seems a bit sexist to you, that's because it is. There's no argument here and it's not worth delving into any further.

I've talked about Annabel as a vampire before, but this time I want to talk more in detail about two issues: how supernatural brides work and the consequences for the protagonist of having a relationship with her and the similarities this story presents to a particular job.

Love and death

What is a ghost? A terrible event doomed to repeat itself over and over again. An instant of pain, perhaps. Something dead that seems at times still alive. A feeling, suspended in time, like a blurred photograph, like an insect trapped in amber. El espinazo del diablo, Guillermo del Toro (original quote in Spanish)

One interesting thing about this whole thing is, too, that while the attitudes of many of these supernatural brides may remind you of variations of a succubus (you know, a female entity that is there for and to seduce), the reality is that the gothic novel is steeped in religious puritanism, so these ladies (most of the time) don't usually need to be sexual with their love interest/victim to get their attention. They usually only need a single glance.

If you think I'm exaggerating:

Never gaze upon a woman, and walk abroad only with eyes ever fixed upon the ground; for however chaste and watchful one may be, the error of a single moment is enough to make one lose eternity. 

The dead women in love, Théophile Gautier

Another thing is that these supernatural brides are usually here at just the right time to skillfully grope the weaknesses of their beloved lover and victim: Are you a feisty guy who thinks he's not afraid of anything? Well, the spirit of the water that will end up bewitching you dwells in a mysterious fountain that no one dares to visit out of fear (Ojos Verdes, Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer ESP/ENG), Have you just obtained eternal life by making a pact with the devil but are a little terrified of what might await you in the solitude of immortality? The beautiful young girl just revived by your own hand has opened her eyes and both you and she know in this one look that you will spend eternity together (The Skeleton Count, or The Vampire Mistress, Elizabeth Caroline Grey), Have you just moved here from Naples and are feeling incredibly lonely? Well, it turns out you have a beautiful neighbor who also seems interested in you. By the way, she's practically a poisonous plant (Rappaccini's Daughter, Nathaniel Hawthorne).

Examples like these are plentiful and most end in three ways for the victim of their affections:

Death.

Madness.

Or eternal mourning for having lost her despite having been a victim of deceit or manipulation.

In Lenore's case, her “supernatural bride” appears after the incident in which she rips the wallpaper off the wall: if flowers symbolize feeling alive, she doesn't need them. There is no need for flowers because she is irreversibly withering away.

And when all seems lost, she receives a visitor.

Annabel is a ghost in Lenore's life. The fuzzy silhouette that represents the one thing that made her happy during her confinement, her last glimmer of sanity in a situation where she could no longer hold on without breaking. A specter whose shadow Lenore has been obsessively chasing since a previous life. And every time she manages to reach her, something snatches her away: Annabel goes back to a place where Lenore cannot reach her with her hands.

This is the sad fate of supernatural bride lovers. Because for the gothic novel, when love transcends death it is not a reason to rejoice: the character's life has been permanently disrupted and all that remains is a feeling that is beyond reason. Love becomes the cruelest and most terrible of punishments.

Carmilla

If you're still here with me and you haven't read Carmilla yet, I highly recommend that you do because if you like goth lesbians, this is exactly your shit.

But just so we're on the same page: Carmilla is a short vampire novel published in 1872 by Sheridan Le Fanu in his collection In a Glass Darkly. The plot is about Laura, a young woman who lives in a proper gothic castle located in Austria and her life will be disrupted with the arrival of a beautiful young woman her age named Carmilla.

Both Lenore and Laura live in almost complete isolation barely accompanied by maids (And, in Laura's case, her father) in a huge estate that is surrounded by an appropriately dense and slightly terrifying forest. Now, the reason they are both here is different: where Lenore is locked up against her will, Laura simply lives in a place that is difficult to access.

But let's make a slightly insidious reading here.

One of the first things we know about Laura is that the maids she lives with, despite being fond of her, consider her “a bit touched in the head” and the incident where Carmilla enters the room when Laura is a little girl is completely dismissed for this reason.

Laura is 19 years old when all this happens and at no point in the play is it mentioned that she has any suitors or intentions of getting married, a bit strange for the time in which it occurs. One would assume that the reason for keeping her so isolated is precisely that Laura's father doesn't think his daughter is particularly sane in the head.

As does Lenore.

Add to that the fact that they are both grieving. Lenore for Theo's death and, in Laura's case, for learning that the daughter of a dear friend of her father's has died in strange circumstances and, although she did not get to know her, this fact affected her a lot.

Anyway, sooner rather than later this almost supernaturally beautiful young lady of her own age shows up and kicks in the door saying she wants to be friends. Carmilla through a carriage “accident” near the property and Annabel requesting a meeting to get to know her.

In both cases, the dynamic established is the same.

On the one hand, we have a young lady who looks completely ecstatic at this pompous and definitely somewhat deranged creature. Laura spares no words in explaining to the reader how fucking beautiful Carmilla is, how important she is to her and how much she loves her. And Lenore, well, Lenore does this:

On the other side, the supernatural (girl)friend returns her affection with the subtlety of a kick in the teeth:

Annabel is a little more subtle than Carmilla was before she and Lenore were a thing, but we still see her get super physically close (something she doesn't usually do with other characters in Nevermore, so this is something she only does with Lenore).

Fun fact: that gesture with the fan means “I'm shy, but I'm interested.”

Unfortunately for our comphet-filled protagonist (because she watches THIS and still thinks they're “good friends”) her days in the company of this girl end in tragedy. Carmilla is eventually unveiled as a vampire and killed, while Lenore sees Annabel leave and, taking into account that they are both in Nevermore, subsequently sees her die.

In both cases, the protagonist's life has been scarred by her supernatural (girl)friend: neither a year-long trip abroad nor a new group of friends can take Laura or Lenore away from the memory of those happy days that are now irretrievably tainted.

Conclusions

I think one thing that has happened to me writing this now that I seriously pulled the rug out from under me regarding the amount of references in this comic and it has been non-stop bullshit. They're all still framed within the genres of tragedy and gothic novel, but even with this essay I've fallen short on some topics.

I don't know when I'll continue with this saga because it really involves going through an awful lot of material, but I can at least say one thing for sure: the amount of detail it has is, honestly, quite impressive.

[hyuny-bunny]

cybersex | camgirl! x skz

prologue. chapter I

MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. this prologue has suggestive themes, nudity, and mentions of butt plugs

skz x fem!reader

a/n: I'll have chapter 1 up soon but I hope you all love this series as much as I do!

synopsis: after a month or so of becoming a camgirl! your career really takes off, you decide to get a place of your own to film content. a lovely building opens up with the perfect space for all your necessities but to your surprise, your favorite waiter boys and long time crush on the head chief of the restaurant you work also happen to live in the building. Bringing you to meet their own assortment of friends. what happens when they find out there's some holes in the stories you tell about your life style?

prologue

You always had a keen interest in the sex work. You had an nsfw twitter page for yourself but it was only really used as a means of saving material or on a bold occasion, posting some captions with said material. There was a thrill of seeing your notifications filled with compliments and praises of like-minded people who were just as horny as you. Your roommate Sana had gotten into doing camgirl work pretty early on. You had indulged your curiosity on occasion when she and her girlfriend would be streaming just down the hall from you. Popping onto the stream to see your roommate's body on display and her girlfriend sat cutely between her legs wearing nothing but a heart-shaped butt plug. Sana would encourage you to try it out at least, very aware of how much you had desired to try it out but always holding back. Financially speaking, you could only benefit from it. In comparison to what you two made in a week at your measly waitress jobs, she could make both your checks for two weeks in just one night and even double dependent on how long she streamed for.

“You’re not worried that someone will recognize you?” You asked standing in the newly furnished cam room, floor to ceiling decorated in all shades of pink imaginable. 

“Not anymore, I revealed my face on stream so long ago, I haven’t given it much thought since. Besides, I could walk away at any moment I decide. I will admit there was a certain thrill with covering up in the beginning. I think there's something about hiding your identity while being in such a lewd state that elicits such an adrenaline rush. It makes the excitement of being watched and gawked at all the more fun.” Sana is now leaning on the desk where her camera and lighting equipment reside. 

“I like the fun, bring me as much joy and excitement as it probably does for my followers,” There’s a slight flush that rises to the tops of her cheeks that you can still make out in the fluorescent lights, “The biggest thing for me is it gives me the confidence I need, the financial security is just a bonus.”

The windows were covered by drawn curtains that covered the entirety of the walls, allowing the room to only be lit by the neon color-changing lamps which to no surprise were set at a baby pink. The floors were covered by a fluffy throw rug, with very little wood peaking. There is a makeshift sofa bed that's covered by an assortment of pillows and silk sheets and another fluffy blanket. There sat on the floor is the giant white teddy bear, Mina, Sana’s longtime partner, gifted her just a month ago. You stayed quiet, absorbing your surroundings. You were amazed but also… jealous. Jealous of how she could find confidence and find security in what most people found so vulnerable. You let out a sigh, sitting on the almost too-silky sheets that caused you to slide right off the bed. 

“Careful. You can imagine how slippery they are in the nude,” She laughed softly as she stared at you, waiting to speak again. “I see the gears turning… What’s on your mind kit-kat?” Your eyes bolt up to her.

“I’m just... A bit taken aback I guess. You could say jealous maybe. This is the frist time I’ve ever considered it as a viable option…” You let the sentence trail off not knowing what to say.

All your life, you had complexes about your body. Measured your self-worth in the way your body looked, and how it compared to other girls you had admired. The older you got, the better you were about mentally checking yourself, to realize it was okay not to be shaped like other girls. Finding it in yourself to feel secure in the body you had. Although you could keep those insecurities at bay most of the time, they would crawl out from under the bed like a hideous monster to plague your thoughts when you felt down about the lackluster love life. Bad dates, unreciprocated feelings, and talking stages that never went anywhere, that was the extent of your love life. 

“You want to give it a try?” That question pulled you out of your thoughts, now you were the one with a bright flush across the tops of your cheeks. “I can help you get started, set up your account, and start promoting you on my own account to start you off with a bit of a following. That’s if… you really are serious about this.” Sana had always been so sweet to you, she had already been letting you take the spare of her 3-bedroom rental as you couldn’t afford to live on your own. She had always extended a helping hand when you needed but here was a chance to finally get you to land on your own feet for once. How could you refuse such an opportunity?

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’m cut out for something like this I mean look at you! I don’t know how anyone is supposed to get off looking at-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re never allowed to see Jiji again,” Sana interrupted, Jiji was your shared house cat who was slowly becoming more yours as time went on. “ I don't want to pressure you into anything but I just think you could actually see the benefit in this. Give it one try and if you don’t like it, I erase every trace of you.”

You sat with the thought, your brain tugging you to go for it. One chance and if it doesn’t work out no harm right? 

“When can we start?”

masterlist • next chapter ->

[howlett-dekarios]

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜

▏Logan Howlett x Reader

▏Summary: After being off radar for years, clown in red spandex also known as Wade Wilson materialized on your doorstep, asking for help. But you had your reasons to vanish, consumed by never-ending grief and empty spot in your heart...

▏Warnings: grief | violence | depression | self-hate | heartbroken character | typical for Deadpool jokes | mean!Wade | soft!Wade | MDNI

▏Word count: 4,5k

▏A/n: Okay so this is basically a prologue for the new series It's Always Been You. Aurora will be involved in the mission of saving their universe on which she'll be forced to meet and fight the demons of her past life. I'm super excited about it so, please leave some word what you think about the whole concept!

Wade didn’t have much choice. Colossus and Negasonic put him in jail and probably wouldn’t be very happy to see that he got out so fast and in rather not so legal way. But he needed help. The X-force plan hasn’t worked out how he imagined. Yes Cable reached out to him, offering to team up and help each other, but ex-mercenary knew better than to fully trust him. Their interests were a bit different, colliding even. He wanted to save Russel when that old cyber soldier had the kid in less.. breathing condition. 

So when he grew his legs back he headed to one more place. It was a risky move, but Wilson just couldn’t stop himself from meeting his legend. Facing the woman who he admired and even jerked off to the pic of a few times. 

But when he knocked and the door opened, the woman in front of him wasn’t very superhero looking. Yes, Colossus told him about your retirement after what happened with your husband but.. well seeing you in such domestic image wasn’t what he expected. Messy upper bun, grey sweats and too big black hoodie, probably one of Logan’s if his assumptions were correct. 

“Fuck, no.” You said, seeing some guy in red spandex standing on your doorstep. 

“Deadpool. Wade Wilson if you like that-“

“Don’t wanna know, don’t care. Get lost.” A tiredness in your voice evident. “What do you want?” 

“I need your help.” You closed your eyes, because you’ve already knew that he would say that. “Mind if I come in?” 

“I’m done with this shit.” The bitch face you gave him was so unfamiliar. From all the old photos and stories Wade knew you rather as a kind and loving person, always ready to step in. Of course not personally, but Colossus has been very descriptive. “Wrong address, buddy.” 

“Wrong one, huh? I’m pretty sure I’m right where I need to be. I know who you are, Ms. 'retired X-Men, hiding out here trying to live a normal life. But I need you, Aurora.” He tapped his finger against the door frame, patiently waiting for some sort of reaction. 

“As you just said, I’m retired. Fuck off.” You tried to smash the door in his face but he quickly stuck out his foot, blocking it from closing.

“Now hold on for a second. I know you’re out of the superhero game, but I’m not asking you to put on the suit and start saving the world again.” He looked you up and down, his gaze lingering on your face and the hoodie you were wearing. “I just need a little help. Some information, maybe a bit of your time. Consider it a favor.” 

Obviously it was all a lie but he couldn’t bring any other idea how he could’ve stopped you from kicking him out instantly. But his skills in talking could buy him some time, particularly seeing what has been hanging on your neck. Dogtags that could’ve  belonged only to one person in the past. 

“You have five minutes.” A long sigh left you while stepping out of the way, allowing him to enter. 

“Very generous of you, peanut. Five minutes are all I need.” His eyes quickly scanned the place. It was a rather small flat, but still giving sort of calming and quiet feeling. Not very suitable for a hero but very you. “Nice place. A bit dull and normal for someone as extraordinary as you, but I guess that's the whole point, right?” 

“You're here as an interior designer or you just like yapping?” It was met with his laugh which only proved your point. “Listen I like normality and want it to stay that way.” 

“Just making an observation, no need to get snappy.” He leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving you. “So you like being a civilian, all low-profile. I get it.” He looked around your flat. “But you've been a part of the X-Men for what, a good chunk of your life? Saving the world, fighting the bad guys. Can you really give all that up? And don't give me that crap about retirement because FOX couldn’t get that cheap all recently.” 

You gave him a quick glance through her arm, not really facing him.

“I have my reasons.” Your tone low, not really wanting to get into any details. 

“Yeah, I bet you do. Losing someone precious, huh? I know a thing or two about that.” He pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer to you. After all he just lost Ness.. he could try to understand. 

He only made a step or two when his arm was forced behind his back, disarming him. Shit, you still have your skills in all fairness. That’s what he counted on. 

“Don't.” It was clear what you meant. Not to go further and elaborate about losing people. About old days as an X-men. Not about Scott. Not about Logan. 

“Okay, okay. I hear you. No talking about past losses. No talking about Logan. Message received. But please, do release my arm. I don't fancy having it broken at the moment.” Growing back his lower parts was enough struggle. Only then he was set free, his arms held up in surrender. “Thanks. Gotta say, you've got quite the grip there. So, you got any beer in there? Or does the retired X-Men lifestyle only allow for a healthy diet of kale and quinoa?” 

“Normality is not healthy.” You walked over to the fridge and threw him a beer-can. 

“Well, I can drink to that.” He caught it with a playful smirk, opening the can and taking a long sip. “But seriously, you're okay with living like this? Hidden from the world, pretending to be a regular person? After everything you seen and been through?” 

“Listen, I gave you five minutes so you better get to the point or leave, we clear?” 

“Not playing, huh?” Another gulp of beer. “Something really messy can happen and I need some information-“ 

“I’m out of the business for years now.” 

“I know it, but you've got a vast network of connections, don't you? You might be out of the superhero playground, but I doubt you've completely severed all ties with the mutant community.” 

“The people I knew are mostly six feet under the ground, so talk with the youngsters in the mansion. Piotr is apparently there all the time if my info is correct.” 

He chuckled dryly, shaking his head.

“Colossus? Seriously? I'd rather gouge my own eyes out with a rusty spoon.” He scratched the back of his mask, thinking for a moment. He looked around your flat, once again taking in the mundane surroundings, so different from the life you had once led. “Alright, so you don't have any connections left. What about your mutant abilities? You're a 'retired X-Men' after all. You must have something useful.” 

“You’re running out of time. Two minutes, red.” 

The ultimatum made him only roll his eyes. 

“Always straight to the point. You know, you're a tough nut to crack. I'm starting to see why Logan found you endearing.” 

“Stop it.” 

He immediately caught onto your reaction, the mention of Logan clearly stirring something within you. He decided to press your buttons a bit further, a hint of a smirk on his face. The topic of your dead lover could be used to his advantages if he lead it correctly. 

“Why not? Too painful to talk about him?” He made a deliberate step closer to you, pushing your limits.

“Get the fuck out of my flat.” You said in serious tone. 

But he could see your anger rise. Good. It's a dangerous game but he has been a master in this. Triggering people. A small chuckle left him, his smirk growing wider. He clearly enjoyed pushing your buttons. A few more steps towards you, his tone mocking.

“Touched a nerve, did I? Come on, princess, you can't still be hung up on him, can you? He's been dead for years. You're not still pining for him, are you?”

“I said. Get. Out.” But his eyes weren’t focused on you anymore, rather on the small metal plates on your chest. His expression faltering momentarily before hardening again. He took a final step towards you, his voice becoming darker.

“Or what? You'll throw me out and go back to your nice, quiet life of pretending to be a regular human when you’re anything other than that?” 

He was now standing right in front of you, too close for comfort. He could almost hear your heartbeat racing. But you didn’t step back, eyes storming at him with pure hate, challenging him to say one more word. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice just above a whisper.

“It must be hard, huh? Pretending like it doesn't bother you, like you've completely moved on. But deep down, you're still hurting, aren't you?”

He reached out, his gloved hand gently touching the dog tags around your neck, which ended up with you dragging it back and twisting his wrist. Wade let out a pained growl,  cracking under your grip.

“Goddamnit, you're stronger than you look!” He stumbled back a few steps, clutching his wrist. Your only reaction though was hiding the dogtags under your hoodie, away from his reach. “You really know how to hurt a guy.” He took a step forward, his usually confident demeanor somewhat shaken. “You're more conflicted than I thought. Still holding onto the past, not being able to get over what happened, huh? That's not healthy, princess.”

It was such a hypocritical move for a guy who blown himself up just few days before. But right know he had something else to focus his mind on. A reason to get himself together. 

“You know jack shit about me. About what it was like to be there and watch it all.” Firstly the guilt of running away with Logan and leaving Scott behind just to find out how your brother was murdered by fanatics, later to see the one man you loved more than anything die in your arms. 

He chuckled humorlessly.

“Don't give me that bullshit. You think you're the only one who's lost someone? You're not the only one who's had heartbreak and pain. We all have our past traumas, princess.” His eyes darkened as he continued to clutch his injured wrist which was already slowly healing.  “Logan's death hurt you. I get it. But you can't just shut everyone out forever. You're living like a damsel in a damn fairytale.”

“I’m not a fucking damsel. I don’t need a prince charming nor a freaking guy with his ass in red spandex who tries to seem funny and cool. You know where the door is so don’t make me lead you there, Wilson.” 

“Funny, you sure look like one. Hiding away in this boring-ass little flat, acting like you're not some badass mutant and hero who saved the world fair share of times. You're trying to fool yourself.” He walked over, becoming more sarcastic. “And who said I was trying to seem cool? I am cool. Cool as hell. Definitely for these nerds.” 

“Yeah, tell yourself that.” 

“Fine, peanut, you don’t leave me any choice. You wanna talk about Logan? We'll talk about him. You still miss him, don't you? You still dream about him. You still wake up every morning and reach for his side of the bed, forgetting he's not there anymore.” He watched your reaction carefully.

“Don’t you dare-“ 

“Or what? You'll break my other wrist?

I'm not backing down, princess. You’re living in self pity hole. In a goddamn fantasy land, wanting to pretend like none of it matters anymore. Fooling yourself even though you’re too damn smart for this.” His masked face focused on you, trying to break through your facade. “And you know what’s the worst? You still love him. Care about him. And you hate yourself for it.” 

He could see how hard you’re trying to fight. To punch and kick his ass out of your place. But the internal struggle is already too strong to overcome. The rational part of your mind trying to force you to listen. To let him speak the truth out loud. To help you. So your body stay unmoved. 

And Wade knew it too damn well. Being a mercenary taught him how to read people. The conflicting emotions written all over your expression. He could tell you were on the verge of snapping, but there was also a hint of vulnerability he hadn't seen before. He took a deep breath, his voice softening just a bit.

“I'm not here to make fun of you, princess. I'm just stating the obvious. You've been pretending to be fine for too long. Maybe you should try letting someone in for once.”

“The last time ended up bad for everyone.”

“Yeah, I get it. It's easier to shut everyone out, to act like you don't care. It's less painful that way. But you can't live like that forever. You know what Logan would say if he could see you now?”

“Don’t-“ You whispered through gritted teeth, the bare mention of his name once again lightening the fair of pain in your chest making it hard to breathe. 

“He'd say you're being a goddamn coward, princess. You're scared, and you're hiding from world even though you’re young and whole life is in your hands. That's not the woman he fell in love with.” The short silence echoed the room, Wade letting his words sink in. “You think he wanted you to lock yourself away like this? To pretend like he never existed?”

“I’m not pretending he-“ You bit your tongue,

stopping the lump in your throat from making you cry. 

“Then say it. Say his name. Say that you miss him. Admit that you still love him.”

“I… I c-can’t.” You’ve never said his name after Logan’s death. It would’ve only made it more real. 

“You can. You need to. You've been bottling up everything for too long, princess. Say it. It won’t kill you. Say his name.”

The silence that fell all over the room made Wade think that he went too far. Pushing the boundaries and breaking you completely. In some sense he had done it, acknowledging it after your next words. The whispered squeak, while your eyes were full of tears, cheeks wet from them already. 

“It’s my fault. I killed Logan.” 

His eyes widened at your words, the vulnerability in your voice hitting him like a punch in the gut.

“What? No, you did not. It wasn't your fault.”’He took a moment to compose himself, his tone still kind but firmer now. “You did not kill Logan, princess. That's bullshit, and you damn well know it.”

“I could’ve done something.. anything..” 

“No you couldn’t. You did everything you could. But sometimes our best is not enough, Aurora. And I’m sure that Logan wouldn’t want you to blame yourself-“ 

“But he’s not here. He’s dead.” 

He grimaced, the pain in your voice cutting through him like a knife. Wade knew you were hurting, fuck he understood it better than anyone else. It was the same way with him, guilt trapping himself for what happened to Ness. How he could’ve thrown that knife the other way, or simply shielded her with his own body. 

“I know that, princess. And it sucks. It really sucks. But that doesn't mean you have to live like this. You're not doing him any favors or honoring him by shutting everyone out and blaming yourself. He wouldn't want that for you.”

“Sorry Wade… but I’m the worst option you could’ve chosen for help.” 

He knew you were having a moment, a breakdown long overdue. He took a step back, giving you some space while still keeping a watchful eye on you.

“Bullshit, Aurora, and running away won't solve anything.” He scratched the back of his head, his tone a mix of understanding and frustration. “You're strong, you know that? You're one of the strongest people I know. But you're also a damn fool.”

“I’m weak-“ 

He laughed dryly, shaking his head.

“Weak? You're many things, Princess, but weak ain't one of them. You've been through hell and back, and you're still standing. That's strength. Even if you don't realize it yourself.”

“I’m a mess, Wade, you’ve said it yourself. I'm none of help.” 

“Maybe you are a mess, princess. I'm not denying it. But that doesn't mean you're not strong. You've seen things that would break other people. You've been through hell, and you're still breathing. That's something, isn't it? Besides, you think I'm any better? I’ve just lost my fiancée because I wasn’t even able to protect her properly. She was ready to start a family with me but instead I just stood there when some bastard shot to her. Also, hell, you think Logan was perfect?”

“He-“ 

Wade didn’t let you finish, knowing that you gonna protect your late husband name at all costs. 

“None of that, Logan wasn't perfect. He was a hotheaded, stubborn, arrogant, full of self misery and hate bastard. But he loved you. And he wouldn't want you to live like this. He wouldn't want you to guilt trap yourself in constant punishment of never ending pain you don’t deserve. And he definitely wouldn't want you blaming yourself for something you couldn't control.”

You really wanted to argue. To scream at him about how Logan was anything but what he just said. But you couldn’t. Deep down you knew how much of a complicated man your husband was, full of issues that you two had to deal with for years. A sad smile appeared on Wade’s lips, seeing how realization slowly hit you. 

“That's right, princess. You know it in your heart. Logan loved you for who you were, flaws and all. And he wouldn't want you to just exist instead of living. Like a goddamn ghost, shadow of your past self.” He took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “You can still honor him. By living your fucking life, Aurora.” 

“I was always the one making him put the suit on.. I made him stand up for everyone.. protect them..” After his death, you made a promise. After him dying as a hero, the way you’ve been as a person your entire life, you had to choose the path he dreamed of: a peaceful lifetime without being involved in any fights. 

“And he did it willingly, princess. He put on that suit and fought for people because he believed it was the right thing to do. Just like you. And I know you what you probably have promised but living like a hermit won’t bring him back. You punishing and self harming yourself won’t make him happy.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip so hard that it started to bleed. 

“Look at me, princess.” Your shake of head wasn’t satisfying for him, so he grabbed your jaw and forced your head to look up. “Come on, open your eyes.” Finally you obeyed and he smiled softly. “Logan would’ve never wanted you to torture yourself like that. You have to let go and start over. For him but more importantly, for yourself.” 

“I don’t know if I can.. I don’t know how..” 

“You don’t need to do this alone. I’m here but you have to start trusting people again, let them in your life.” 

“You wanted my help.” A sad chuckle that ended with sob left you. “But you’re the one helping me instead.” 

“Believe it or not, but that’s how friendship works. And you’ve helped me already.” Not now, but in the past. You’ve been his hero for a long time and being able to make you be yourself again was the honor he didn’t deserve. “You've been drowning in guilt and pain for too long. It's time to come up for air.” 

“Okay.. fine.. right..” It took you some time to get yourself together. Cleaning the face from tears, deep breaths to calm your nerves. Wade was patient, knowing how a major step it all been. Finally letting yourself grief heal and accept your reality. “You have a problem, right? Why did you truly come here?” For you it was rather clear that he started lying when it came to these ‘information’ you were asked to help with. 

“That’s what I wanna see.” His tone excited again, him all over the moon by the fact he will be able to see you in your element. “Long story short, there is a not very nice Cable guy from the future who killed me but I resurrected, later he tore to do it again bunch of times, but now we are besties.” He laughed at your face which showed that you had absolutely no clue what he’s just said. “Oh I love your silly goofy face, peanut. But listen now, cuz that’s when it gets better and really messy. So there is a kid, Russel who will do a very naughty things in the future after killing the old pervy jerk who had been torturing him and other mutant kiddos in his orphanage.” 

“Will?” 

“I told ya it’s interesting. So Cable got back in time to stop him in very permanent fashion, but I think we can make the kid do a better job, talking him out of becoming a super villain with a lot of unresolved trauma and complexes.” 

“Cable wants to kill a boy? It’s-“ 

“Horrible! I know, right?! I mean Russel is a little annoying prick but other than that he’s also a very sweet kiddo.” 

“But you told that you sided with Cable-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, let’s say I don’t trust him enough to go there only with him. He’s rather hotheaded handsome bastard if you ask me. Also kid has Juggernaut in his team so-“ 

“What?!” 

“Juggernaut. He’s not really that cool guy, he ripped me apart!” Your judging look made him laugh. “Magic baby. I’m like a sweet little cockroach.” 

“I know he’s not cool, I’ve met him before.” And the fact he wasn’t the smarter guy either left you with little space for communication. “But.. you have a healing factor?” 

“Well, yes, if I wouldn’t have el cancer would’ve killed me in a day.” 

You grip the doorframe of your room for a second, trying to catch up with everything he has just told you. Some dickhead wants to kill a youngster who hasn’t even done anything yet. The punishment should be after the sentence, not the other way around. That why with a shaking hand, you’ve reached under your hoodie and gripped the dogtags, pulling them slowly up to your lips. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” It was a mere whisper followed by the kiss in the metal. It felt wrong, but Wade was right. You couldn’t stay here forever, while the world around you is tearing apart. Not when a kid’s life is on the line. It wouldn’t have been the person Logan married. “I’m gonna search for my suit and change.” 

“Alright, princess. Just don't take too long. We've got a lot of ass to kick and on our way there we need to stop at some place.” Seeing your questioning expression, he elaborated. “Well, if I went to Colossus alone he would’ve probably sent me back to prison. But with you on my side-“

“You’ve been in prison?” The unbelievable in your tone clear enough to make him laugh. 

“It’s a long but hilarious story, gonna tell you on the road.” 

As you went to the bedroom Wilson could see you kneeling down to take out box that was hidden under it. Later you headed to the bathroom, changing your clothes and getting rid of the remaining trails of tears on your face. When you got out he couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement building inside of him. Wade always wanted to see an original X-Men member and damn you were always his favorite, well maybe the second after Logan. You were in the legendary one part, whole body, leather suit. Your hair was tightly done in a high ponytail. The only difference of your appearance from old times were the dog tags hanging on your neck, proudly showing off. Reminding everybody of the sacrifices you’ve made. 

He let out a low whistle, clearly impressed, and a cheeky grin formed on his lips.

“Whoa, peanut. You look as badass as ever.” 

It felt weird to be in it again, the knowledge of you being the only one who left from the whole team. With every second you had it on, you grew more and more insecure and unsure about this whole thing. He crossed his arms, his eyes still drinking in the sight of you in full hero attire.

“Damn, princess. You look very impressive. I swear, it's like I'm seeing the OG X-Men series right in front of me. And the hair? Damn, you look good, Aurora.” He smirked, his tone filled with teasing. “You sure Juggernaut can handle it?”

“He better do. At least it will be worth it then.” 

“You sure you're feeling up for this, peanut? I need to know you're in this hundred percent?” 

“We are never one hundred percent sure

Wade. We just do stuff and hope it's gonna work its best. You helped me so l have a debt to pay off.” 

He paused, the realization hitting him. You were right. He was used to winging it, to making things up as he went along. But you? You were a born leader, effortlessly inspiring trust and confidence in everyone around you. He could see why the X-Men had loved you so much, and why your departure had been such a blow. He let out a soft chuckle, a mix of amusement and admiration in his voice.

“You, princess, are a sight to see. You're damn good at this.” 

“I'm none a leader Wade, remember? You’re the one in charge here.” 

He rolled his eyes dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, yes, because I'm the picture-perfect leader, princess. I'm a real role model. A shining example to follow. Look, princess, we both know I'm not cut out for this leading' shit. I'm better at improvisation and chaos.” 

“You boys… always saying stuff like this.” The obvious implication of Logan and Scott here, who were always not ‘leaders’ but being them anyway. 

“Yeah, princess, I know. That's how we roll. Always downplaying our leadership skills, leaving the serious stuff for the true heroes.” He paused, his expression becoming more intense. “But right now, princess, we don't have much time. And that means being honest about who does what best. That sure ain't me when it comes to leading. Now, now.” Wade opened the door and stepped aside for you to go first. “Shall we?” 

And that’s how you ended up in the most random place in your life. A strong friendship with a loyal clown who will provide you much more trouble in the future… 

It's always been you masterlist

[shiny-jr]

how to steal a heart (I)

[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader. 

- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?

IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .

Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view. 

The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already. 

A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?” 

Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors. 

“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?” 

Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her. 

Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?” 

Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!” 

The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town. 

In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining? 

Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be–– 

“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!” 

“Reyes?!”

“Where? I don’t see it!” 

“There! Over the hill!” 

Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious. 

In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior. 

Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down. 

Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.

Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors. 

Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week! 

The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day. 

Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string. 

The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them. 

The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won. 

While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing. 

It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own. 

Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved. 

Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point… 

By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags. 

As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.

Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here. 

Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall. 

The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?” 

A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie. 

The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity. 

As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.” 

Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.” 

Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?” 

This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.” 

Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.” 

It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well. 

In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time. 

“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.

[mockerycrow]

PROLOGUE — THE SOUL (Ghost x GN!Reader)

the soul masterlist

summary; laswell is providing you one possible last chance. will you waste it? callsign used is maverick.

[WARNINGS; anxiety, slight paranoia, slight angst.]

The blood in your head rushes underneath your skin as you stare blankly at the floor, sitting uncomfortably on a too-harsh, poorly produced plastic chair that’s digging into your sit bones, your hands on your knees with a slight grip on your kneecaps. A low, uneasy rumbling sensation grows in your gut; it's deadly silent, the exception being the clock up on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock, Tick—

You don’t jolt when the door opens with the click, but your right index finger lifts for just a moment. You don’t look up either, swallowing harshly as the figure approaches you with light footsteps. The muscles in your shoulders and neck twitch and slowly begin to tense up, a slight ache developing already as your fingers dig into your kneecaps as an attempt to settle rolling thunder in your stomach. A pair of dark brown leather women’s loafers come into view, your eyes studying the shiny material for a moment.

“Maverick.” Laswell speaks firmly, her voice low and serious. There’s a bite of irritation coming from her—a word of warning, almost. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment, your upper canine tooth sinking in as you lower your shoulders, however they aren’t any less tense than since the first moment you stepped into this room. Your eyes move from her loafers up her dark gray dress pants, up her white dress shirt and finally focusing in on her face. Laswell’s eyebrows are furrowed together, a wrinkle in the middle of them, her eyes narrowed. You can see the corner of her lip is curled a bit upwards. Her bun is nearly perfect, her bangs sitting beautifully across her forehead.

“Laswell.” You echo easily, your voice low in your throat. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Your eyes flicker down to the manila folder in her hands, multiple packets and mismatched papers stuffed into it. Your eyes squint for a moment with recognition; your file.

“You already know what I’m going to say, aren’t you?” Laswell questions, a hint of exhaustion her words—you can’t care enough to decipher if it’s because of you or not right now. Your eyes flicker back down to the waxed floor to where her feet are. Your hands let go of your kneecaps, instead letting yourself lean your forearms down on your thighs and partially onto your knees. Your hands hang between your legs, your back bent down with your head looking down. “Yeah.” You utter, feeling the tension in the air thickening by the second.

Of course you know why you’re here. You always know why, because it’s your own doing. Being called into Laswell’s office—or asked.. More like commanded to answer her phone calls—is practically a hobby for you by this point. You could recite the lectures you’ve gotten like the way a bad yet catchy song is something you find yourself singing to yourself. One part of you is amused with how you haven’t been discharged yet. How haven’t you been is one part miracle, another part devastating. For you or the people around you, you cannot quite tell yet.

“You have a problem, Maverick. We need to fix this.”

You nearly snort, leaning back upwards with one forearm on your leg, your palm grabbing your other knee. “Like I don’t know it.” You mutter, your voice a bit gritty from how low you speak. Laswell makes a displeased noise, her eyebrows tightening together. “This isn’t funny.” Laswell says firmly, her tone stern and unmoving. “I’m not laughing.” You easily retort, your face tightening for a hot moment. You’re both silent, almost like you’re in an unofficial staring contest until Laswell mutters something unintelligible, leaning back against her desk and putting your fat file on the top of some other papers. “I need you to listen to me,” She begins, putting a palm on her knee, smoothing out her dress pant-leg. “They’re considering letting you go.”

That gets your attention right quick. Letting me go? You think to yourself, letting your facial features do the talking for you. Laswell lip twitches, her fingers brushing across her bangs to “fix” them. She’s stressed. “..They need me.” You say slowly, your gaze watching her much closer now, trying to read every part of her body language. “Yes, they do, and I’m trying to do everything I can for you.” Laswell avows, her tone stressing her words. Her fingers twitch where they rest on her knee before she pushes herself back to a proper standing position, her hands in the front of her. Your heart tightens in your chest for a second as you watch Laswell struggle to find her words.

“Look.” Laswell sighs out, her voice serious as you make eye contact with her once again. “I can try—I’m not saying I can, but I’m saying I might be able to provide you one last chance.” Laswell presses her lips together for a moment, silence overtaking everything between you and her. “You are aware of what this means, right?”

You almost want to laugh in her face; how could you not know? Instead, you offer a more polite response—a simple nod.

“I’m serious, Maverick. I’ve tried to pull every single goddamn string I have, all for you. They want you gone.”

Ouch.

“I get it.”

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes until pain prickles at the corners of the nerves in your eyes and you see stars, as well as colors. You inhale deeply, painfully aware of how much space air takes up in your lungs, aware of the way your chest expands until you slowly exhale. You sit up straighter than before, putting your palms back on your kneecaps, lifting your head to look at the woman in front of you. “I get it.” You repeat, quieter this time, but not any more soft than before.

Laswell’s eyes scream doubt. They scream disbelief, anger, worry, and burning determination. “I already sent your file over to your last chance. I’m begging you to straighten yourself out, Maverick.”

You only offer a shrug, your mind struggling to comprehend what this could mean for you. You’ve thought of this moment for months—over a year by this point, honestly. Now that it’s finally here, you aren’t really sure what to make of it all yet.

One last chance. Maybe.

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[quack-quack-snacks]

Star Crossed - Chapter 8

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Normal AOUAD things,

WC: 5,538

Just before running through the door to escape the inbound zombies, you saw a withered bouquet of flowers leaning against the corner of the wall.

They were your favorites.

Running through the door, you turned around and slammed it shut with the help of Cheong-san. Afterward, the both of you leaned with your backs against the door before sliding down to sit against it, not willing to waste any more energy on getting the attention of the chopper above that obviously was not coming back. You looked over when you heard the boy next to you groan and bumped his shoulder with your own. “You alright?”

He looked over at you and offered a tight smile. “As good as I can be.”

You nodded at him and leaned your head back to rest against the cool metal of the door when a sudden strong force hammered against the door and you quickly jumped up, on edge again after the moment’s rest. Cheong-san jumped up with you and you both stared at the door, preparing for the worst. After a moment of silence, you leaned your ear against the door to hear what might be on the other side and another hit sounded. You flinched back, almost falling onto Cheong-san who steadied you. You all held your breath as one more strike was heard before silence enveloped everything again.

“He’s gone.”

You turned around to look at Nam-ra when she spoke.

“Who’s gone?” Su-hyeok asked.

“It’s Gwi-nam, right? He’s gone now,” you spoke with disappointment lacing your tone. You weren’t sure if it was disappointment that he left or disappointment with what he’d become.

Maybe both.

Nam-ra nodded with an empathetic frown in your direction. “It's his smell. I hear his breathing.”

You nodded to the floor, not really in agreement or disagreement with everything but just a nod to get your body to do something other than to fall into a pit of despair. Not looking at anyone, you turned to go walk to a corner of the roof and sat down, leaning against the wall. You lifted your hands to your face and pressed harshly on the sockets of your eyes, seeing little stars and shapes appear until you heard the sound of someone sitting next to you. Lifting your head, it took a while for the ability to see to come back but you then saw Nam-ra sitting next to you with a guilty expression on her face.

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted her softly. “I know what he’s become. I know about how he’s trying to kill Cheong-san for whatever reason and how he bit you while fighting Su-hyeok. I know my brother’s gone.”

She looked at the side profile of your face as you refused to look her in the eyes, instead deciding to stare off into space with no specific object having your full attention. You closed your eyes and let out a sniffle when she wrapped her arms around your shoulder and pulled you down so she was cradling you against her chest. You refused to cry, feeling like you had cried enough already and knowing it was the exact opposite of how your father had raised you. Granted, you never really listened to your father considering how much you hated him for the words he would spit at you for any slight mistake.

You both stayed there for a minute or two until you saw the group gathering materials to make the SOS sign bigger. You slowly got up so as to not bump into her and then held your hand out for her to grab. When she did, you lifted her up and started walking in the direction of the group to help, gathering some materials on the way. You looked over when Hyo-ryung was warning Joon-yeong to be careful as he climbed on top of a platform to look at the sign.

“How does it look?” Ji-min asked him and he hummed with his hand holding his chin.

“First… the ‘O,’ it's just too narrow.”

“Why do we need to make the ‘O’ bigger? It’s a distress signal it doesn’t have to be perfect?” You questioned to Hyo-ryung who stood beside you and she just shrugged her shoulders with a small laugh before going over to help as you did the same.

Working together for a bit, with the assistance from Joon-yeong’s instructions, you all stepped back to take a look at your work and saw the most beautiful and perfect SOS signal you have ever seen before.

“Yeah, well, there's no way anyone can miss that,” Joon-yeong spoke proudly.

“Right?” Dae-su agreed and Wu-jin nodded.

“We did do a good job.”

Everyone spread out a little bit, Dae-su and Cheong-san walking over to the copper circle they had placed in the middle of the ‘O’ to center it.

“It's a little crooked, though,” Hyo-ryung commented and you playfully pulled her to your embrace as you covered her mouth and she laughed beneath your hand.

“Nooo. If you say anything we’ll have to do more work!” You joked and she laughed again.

As you let her go with a smile, she turned around and gave you a hug which you didn’t return for a few seconds until it registered in your brain what she was doing. When she pulled back, she looked at you with a sad, guilty smile. “I’m sorry. For all of our preconceptions of you. You’re nothing like what we expected and I wish we became friends under better circumstances,” she told you. You smiled at her and instead of responding just brought her into another hug which she returned.

“Thank you, Hyo-ryung.”

“What does SOS mean?” Dae-su asked as you all were sitting around, resting. He was messing around and moving the parts of one of the ‘S’s to make it less crooked.

“It's a distress signal,” On-jo answered.

“I know that. What does it stand for?” He specified.

“It-”

“It doesn't stand for anything. SOS is just SOS,” On-jo answered, unintentionally interrupting you but you didn’t mind.

“That makes no sense,” Dae-su looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed.

“That's just how it is. It doesn't mean anything.”

“Then rescue quickly… speed of save… save?” Dae-su looked towards you as if he figured it out and you opened your mouth to speak again when On-jo unintentionally interrupted you again.

“Why'd you ask if you're not gonna believe me?”

“I thought you'd know.”

“I do know. Look it up. You'll see I'm right.”

He rolled his eyes as you saw Choeng-san stand up and start walking towards the three of you. “Whatever. How can I look it up? I don't have a phone.”

“Actually-” You started only to roll your eyes when Cheong-san interrupted you. You knew they weren’t doing it on purpose but it was annoying nonetheless.

“What?”

“I asked On-jo what SOS means, and she said it doesn't mean anything,” Dae-su scoffed as he looked at her. “Just say you don't know next time.”

“Well, it’s true,” On-jo huffed.

“It's true,” Cheong-san confirmed and you just shook your head, walking over to where Nam-ra stood and starting up a random conversation with her, unable to stand the love oozing out of Cheong-san’s pores into the atmosphere, all of it directed towards On-jo.

Minutes later, Dae-su walked up to the both of you. “Hey prez, hi (Y/N). What does SOS mean?” He asked and you looked at Nam-ra to see if she would answer but she didn’t, only looking at you for the answer.

“Okay… well. In English, it stands for ‘Save Our Souls’ or ‘Save Our Ship.’ When boats would have a problem in the middle of the ocean, they would send that out for help. It usually just means ‘Save Our Souls’ when people use it in everyday circumstances.”

“Haha!” He exclaimed and turned back to where Cheong-san and On-jo were. “I knew it stood for something! You were wrong!” He boasted and you just laughed as you watched them start another argument. You looked away for a moment only to look back to see On-jo walking away from Cheong-san kneeling down in pain with his hands holding the back of his knees.

“The sun's setting. Let's start a fire,” she directed and you nodded with an amused smile that she rolled her eyes at but couldn’t help to return.

As you all gathered around a plank of wood, On-jo started rotating a stick back and forth to start a fire. When she was unsuccessful, she stood up. “I'm done.”

“Already?” Wu-jin asked but Joon-yeong just got in her place.

He started off strong, twisting it back and forth quickly as he tried to start it.

“You'll get tired. Slow down,” Dae-su warned but Wu-jin smacked him across the arm.

“The fire won't start if he goes slowly.”

Dae-su looked contemplative before turning back to the boy. “Do it faster. Faster. Faster. I said come on, faster! Rub it faster!” He ordered and Joon-yeong let go of the stick in pain, rubbing at his hand. “What is it, cramps?”

“My hands. I can't do it,” he explained and Dae-su gently pushed him away as he took his spot.

“I'll do it. Step back.”

He grabbed the stick and started rolling it in his hand very slowly which caused some of you to groan, you especially and you crouched down in front of the wooden plank.

“Hey, should we kill him?” Wu-jin suggested and you sighed before leaning over and pushing Dae-su back and away.

“Oh, move over already,” you demanded before taking up the stick. You started twisting the stick, faster than everyone who was before you and smoke almost immediately started to pile out of the hole.

“Smoke!” Su-hyeok exclaimed and tried to push you away but you stopped him.

“If I stop now, it won’t be enough friction,” you told him and he nodded. After another few moments, the fire started on its own and the stick lit up. The group oohed and ahhed and you just laughed as you threw it into the wooden pile you all had created.

“Wow! (Y/n), you’re so talented!” Dae-su praised but you just rolled your eyes.

“Nam-ra had a lighter this whole time so we could’ve just used that,” you pointed over at the girl as she held the lighter out, ready to hand it over but you had already succeeded.

“I was going to give it but none of you heard me,” she explained and when everyone remained looking at her with the same shocked look, she continued. “Well, I smoke sometimes.”

You laughed.

“So do I,” you told all of them with a grin as you pulled your own lighter out of your pocket and held it up for everyone to see. Su-hyeok looked at you in astonishment, his mouth opening and closing a few times before you just laughed at his shock. “I’m just kidding. I don’t smoke, I just always carry a knife and lighter on me. I used the knife in the first classroom we were in and the lighter’s been in my pocket since. I haven’t needed to use it until now.”

“You had it this whole time?” Wu-jin asked in exasperation and you just shrugged with a wink sent in his direction as you walked over to the pile, seeing how the fire had died down to only a few sparks.

“Why didn’t you bring it out earlier?” Joon-yeong asked you in confusion.

“Well, I needed to show off my skills,” you laughed as you lit the stick back up and held onto it as you lit more of the wood on fire.

The sun finally set and you all settled around the fire, pulling out blankets and whatever you could to keep warm. You sat to the left of Nam-ra, sharing a blanket with her and On-jo. There was a comfortable silence that settled over all of you until Su-hyeok turned to Dae-su.

“Dae-su.”

“Yeah?” The boy hummed with his cheek resting against his elbow.

“How was your audition?”

Dae-su scoffed. “They said I have to lose weight.”

“Well they’re missing out. You’re a good singer, Dae-su,” you told him and he looked at you with a smile.

“I never knew you'd heard me sing, (Y/n).”

“Being the quiet kid makes it so you see and hear everything. I’m like a spider. I’ve got eyes on the back of my head,” you joked and Hyo-ryung shivered.

“Oh! I hate spiders!”

You laughed at her reaction along with a few others before Su-hyeok spoke to Dae-su again. “Sing for us. I wanna hear it.”

“Just forget it. I don't want to,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“I actually really like that song,” Joon-yeong told him.

“What song?” You asked in confusion, not picking up on any context clues.

He turned to you with a smile. “Just wait, you’ll hear it.”

“You really like it?” Dae-su asked and Joon-yeong nodded.

“It's really nice.”

“You sing well,” Su-hyeok complimented to sweeten the deal.

“It'll cheer us up,” Wu-jin added.

Dae-su cleared his throat and sat up straight before starting.

♪ Let's go once it's over ♪

♪ Let's go anywhere ♪

♪ Once we're done studying hours a day ♪

♪ Once the annoying sounds are over ♪

♪ Let's go hand in hand ♪

♪ Let's not run ♪

♪ Let's try walking slowly ♪

♪ Is that drool or sweat pooled on the book? ♪

♪ No one notices the plop, plop ♪

♪ The plop, plop ♪

♪ The falling rain drops ♪

♪ What is boiling? Simmer, simmer ♪

♪ It's Mom's doenjang stew ♪

♪ Mm-hm, a bowl of instant noodles ♪

♪ In front of the TV which plays nothing but static ♪

♪ Let's go anywhere together ♪

The singing ended in a nice silence, the only sound being the breaths being inhaled and exhaled.

“It was such a nice song,” Hyo-ryung said softly.

“Didn't you say that it sucked?” Dae-su countered.

“Well, now that I actually listened to it, I think it's kind of nice,” she reassured.

“That was encouraging, Dae-su,” Wu-jin told him and they exchanged a small laugh.

“How long… have you been smoking for?” You heard from beside you and looked to see On-jo looking at Nam-ra as she asked.

She looker over at her. “Since eighth grade. I had no friends and a lot of stress back then.”

On-jo looked at the fire as she tried to think of what to say in response. “Did you ever need a friend, though?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t really tell.”

“You always put up a wall. You'd wear your headphones all day, and you never said anything. Wasn't it because you hated us?”

“I never hated you guys,” Nam-ra dispelled. “I just… didn't have any friends,” she said. You gave a little sad smile and looked at the ground and as if she could sense your feelings of rejection, she kept going. “Up until (Y/n) came into my life, I was pretty much all alone. She was the first person I was sure I could call my friend.”

You smiled and knocked your shoulder into hers which she smiled back at you for.

“Well… I never really liked you,” Hyo-ryung spoke and ruined the moment which you glared at her for until she continued. “I thought you and (Y/n) didn't talk to us because we were beneath you.”

“I kind of hated you. There were times that I wished you would just disappear.” Joon-yeong confessed bitterly.

You grabbed Nam-ra’s hand underneath the blanket which she squeezed in appreciation. She didn’t let it show on her face but you could tell that it affected her.

“Aren't you close? You're the top two students,” Ji-min asked from beside him.

“That's why I hated her. No matter how hard I worked, I was always second,” he exclaimed frustratedly before he sighed. “But it's okay now. I think I was able to come in second, because of Nam-ra.”

“Hey. Second's good too,” Dae-su encouraged. “I can't even be 20th,” he turned to Su-hyeok and Wu-jin. “Right?” Su-hyeok’s hand let go of Wu-jin’s shoulder as he brought it to fist bump against Dae-su’s.

“I always thought you hated us too, (Y/n),” On-jo expressed. “You always seemed too quiet and were always glaring at people, but now you seem so different. What changed?”

You gave her a weak smile. “Nothing changed, actually. I only glared at people when they were being dicks. Have any of you ever actually seen me glare at you?” You looked around and everyone seemed puzzled before shaking their heads. “I never talked to anybody because nobody ever talked to me. What was the point in striking up a conversation when it seemed obvious nobody was interested,” you turned your head back to On-jo as you continued. “I don’t know if you remember, On-jo, but I actually talked to you about a week into freshman year. We talked for a little bit at the start of class until you asked me my name,” she looked shocked with realization as she remembered what you were talking about. “I told you it was Yoon (Y/n) and you got so scared you ran away and ended up transferring classes that entire year,” you laughed painfully and turned away from her, looking back at the fire.

“But you always seemed to act like your brother. You even bullied the bullies!” Ji-min pointed out with a questioning and disbelieving tone as she couldn’t believe what she had believed for the past 3 years was wrong. “Like Na-yeon! She was terrified of you!”

“I gave her a few talking to’s when I would catch her being mean so she would stop. Last year she was much worse but I like to think that I helped calm her down, even if just by a bit.”

Ji-min looked down at her lap in realization. She’d never considered you did all of that just to protect the people she ended up bullying.

After a blanket of silence settled over the group, this one much less comfortable than the last one, Hyo-ryung spoke up as she turned to Dae-su.

“Hey,” she started as she hit his arm. “You shouldn’t compare yourself to Joon-yeong.”

“Huh?” Dae-su asked.

“When you talked about being in 20th place. Don’t compare yourself,” she stressed and he scoffed.

“I was just saying. Why do you always get on my case whenever I say something?” He looked at her in, what he thought was, realization. “Wait a second. Do you like me?”

She scoffed and harshly slapped his upper arm which you smiled lightly at as the others laughed lightly.

“Shut up, you moron!”

“I'm going to put it out there, so you don't get hurt,” he warned. “I like somebody else. So don't like me.”

“I don't like you!” She complained and slapped him again as he held him arm. I'm not interested in you at all.”

“Dae-su. Who do you like, then?” Joon-yeong asked curiously and Dae-su sported a sheepish and shy smile.

Wu-jin groaned. “He's, he's a total freak.”

Su-hyeok pointed at Wu-jin’s head from above. “His sister.”

“Ha-ri from Archery?” Ji-min asked incredulously and he nodded. “You're insane.”

“I go crazy when I'm in love,” Dae-su cooed and Nam-ra looked down with a smile as you stared at Dae-su, your own smile gracing your face, but with a sadder, more longing, demeanor. “She's like my little Cupid.”

“Stop it,” Wu-jin laughed. “If we get out of here alive, I'm gonna tell my sister.”

Dae-su looked at him in shock at his words, reaching over to rest a hand on Wu-jin’s arm. “Will you really tell her?”

“Yeah,” Wu-jin confirmed.

“What?”

“To shoot and kill you. I said not to like my sister.”

“You can't do that to me, future brother-in-law,” Dae-su complained as he wrestled Wu-jin over Su-hyeok’s lap and tried to pull him into a headlock.

“You… Hey!”

“Will you tell her? Promise?”

“Yeah. To kill you.”

“Stop it. Seriously. I love her,” Dae-su told him and Wu-jin groaned.

“Whatever. Somebody else say something so I can forget everything that just happened within the last 2 minutes,” Wu-jin begged and everyone stayed silent and still until Ji-min spoke up.

“My mom and dad prepped everything for my transfer,” she started with a pensive look. “They said to just go to Seoul. But I really didn't want to go there. I wouldn't have had any friends, and I was afraid of the Seoul kids. I didn't know what to do,” she sighed. “Then On-jo gave me a great idea. She said I just had to cut school for five days. Then the principal can't write you a recommendation,” On-jo smiled at her words and looked down to her lap. “So that's what I did. It's all thanks to On-jo… that I didn't have to transfer.”

On-jo held up her hand in a peace sign and you smiled over at her and her adorableness.

“I should've just gone to Seoul.”

Ji-min’s voice brought your eyes over to her and her look displayed one more of bitterness now.

“Then none of this would have happened to me.”

On-jo’s fingers fell and you gave her a grim smile as she nodded solemnly to Ji-min’s words.

“People have always said…” Wu-jin started and the attention went back over to him. “My sister was an archery prodigy ever since she was little. So our parents only cared about trying to get my sister onto the national team. They've never paid attention to me at all.”

“I'll give you all my attention, brother-in-law,” Dae-su told him. “Don't be sad. You have me,” Dae-su groaned as Wu-jin pushed him backward so he was lying on his back. Su-hyeok had moved from sitting in between them during the scuffle they had so he was now sitting beside you. Wu-jin then laughed with a shake of his head.

“Thank God that I have Dae-su.”

The attention turned to Su-hyeok but he just shook his head to pass. Then the attention moved onto you.

“I’ve always been seen as my older brother’s little sister. I don’t think that I’ve ever been known as just (Y/n). If not the little sister of the infamous Yoon Gwi-nam,” you imitated puffing out your muscles to mock your brother in a lighthearted manner but it faltered and you just held your hands in your lap. “Then it was the youngest daughter of the Yoon family. My father, as I’m sure you all know by his reputation, is not a good man. Not only to everyone he meets but also to his own children. Growing up, Gwi-nam was the only one who would protect me from him. I guess I don’t really need that protection anymore. I’m sure my father’s probably in a safe haven hundreds of miles away from all of this. He always was a fucking coward,” you laughed bitterly and felt a hand grab your own. Looking over, your eyes traveled up from where the hand held your own and found that the hand connected to Su-hyeok. You smiled at him, your mood lifting slightly. You looked back at the fire with a small smile still gracing your face. “In other, happier, news; as of yesterday, I am officially 17 years old,” your smile dropped as you remembered the situation you were in. “Happy birthday to me…”

“Fuck…” You heard Su-hyeok whisper from beside you and you looked over to see him frantically looking around the roof, looking for something but you weren’t sure what.

“What? What is it?” You asked him and he shot up off the ground. He jogged over to a section of the roof and you all watched on with curiosity. You stood up when you saw him take a tarp off of something to reveal an opened picnic basket and a cooler that fell on its side, the contents seeming to have been taken. You walked over to him as he looked through the picnic basket with a worried expression before it faded to one of relief when he apparently found what he was looking for. “Su-hyeok,” you asked slowly and quietly as to not scare him. He looked up at you and hid the items in his hands behind his back. “Are you okay?”

“I… uh…” He looked around sheepishly for an excuse but you just rested a hand on his arm.

“What’s going on?”

The chatter from behind you had stopped, everyone emotionally investing themselves into the lives of their former outcasted classmate and one of their best friends.

Su-hyeok brought the items out from behind his back to reveal a small black velvet jewelry box and a beautifully drawn card that had the same drawing of the same girl that was on his notebook from yesterday on the cover. He tilted his head and gave you an unsure, quite frankly, adorable, smile. “Happy birthday?” He handed the gifts to your frozen body. You hadn’t been expecting anything like this. “I’m so sorry I forgot. With everything happening I wasn’t able to fulfill the plans I made for yesterday.”

“What were you going to do?” You asked him breathlessly.

He blushed and scratched the back of his neck, looking towards the ground where he kicked an imaginary rock. “I was planning on taking you up here to have you skip class with me and then after a while, I would confess to you.”

“Confess what?” You asked cluelessly and looked back at the group briefly as you heard some of them groan.

Looking back at him, his eyes locked onto yours and he took a step forward. Reaching his hands out, he took the gifts and set them down before grabbing your hands. Staring you deeply in the eyes while you blushed harshly at the way he was acting and how close he was to you. “Confess… that I’m in love with you, (Y/n),” you gasped but he continued. “I have been in love with you since the day I met you. I don’t expect you to share my feelings, but I would love to take you out on a date one day after all this is over and be able to call you mine.”

You stared at him for a moment and just as he sighed in rejection and let go of your hands to back away, you grabbed onto his tie and pulled him down to your level so you could kiss him.

He took a moment to return it, but once he did, he kissed you so softly and with so much more love than you could ever imagine. He pulled your waist into him, forcing you to stand on your tippy toes to reach him, and lifted one hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek gently. When you both pulled away, it was because you couldn’t contain your smile anymore and you hid your blushing face in his neck as you hugged him. He laughed and held you to him, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.

“So is that a yes? May I call you mine?” He asked against your temple and you leaned back to give him a slight peck against the lips before smiling again.

“Yes, Su-hyeok, you may call me yours.”

The group behind you erupted into cheers and you flipped them the bird as you leaned down to pick up the gifts he had set down. Deciding to put the card in your pocket, considering it was small enough for it, you went back to sit down, Su-hyeok right on your trail, following after you like a love sick puppy, and returned to your original spots. This time, you were no longer sharing the blanket with Nam-ra and On-jo, but leaning against Su-hyeok as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You looked down to open the box and gasped when you saw the beautiful golden necklace inside of it. You opened the locket to find one side filled with small dried flowers and the other side to be empty. You looked up at the boy holding you and he smiled down at you.

“I was hoping we could fill it with a picture of us,” he told you and you melted. Giving the necklace to him, he helped you put it on and you smiled up at him once more before turning back to the group who was looking at you like they were watching a soap opera.

You looked over to On-jo, only to see her smiling at you brightly. There was a tiny hint of disappointment in her gaze but mainly happiness for her two friends.

“Anyways! Onto the next person. What do you say prez? You wanna go next?” You teased Nam-ra lightly as she smiled at you compassionately, happy for your successes.

“I don't really have anything to say. I wouldn't really know… but I feel like I made friends.”

You smiled at her and held a hand out for her to take which she did before turning to look at On-jo who smiled at her reassuringly. The attention shifted over to Cheong-san as he put a stick into the fire before speaking. “Me and… On-jo…” He paused and sighed. “I just, well… I just want some water, really.”

“Not stuff like that,” Hyo-ryung complained. “Be completely honest.”

“Be completely honest,” Dae-su continued. “Do you like someone?”

Cheong-san took a moment to think before humming in approval.

“You do? For real?” On-jo asked and you smiled as you watched Cheong-san try to hide his feelings from the one person who didn’t know about them.

“Yeah.”

“Why do you keep on stalling? Do you have a crush?” She interrogated him.

“Uh, pretty much.”

“Pretty much? What does that mean? Who is she?”

You looked around to see everyone pretty much having the same expression on their faces. Joon-yeong smirked as he put another stick into the fire.

The two lovebirds stared at each other before Cheong-san looked away and dismissively said, “No one.”

“Who is she?” On-jo begged. “Do I know her?” She looked like she was putting on a teasing face for the group but you could hear the slight hesitation in her voice.

Maybe the love wasn’t as one sided as you thought it was.

“Who is it?”

“You… It's you, On-jo… I like you.”

On-jo looked stunned by the news and Dae-su’s mouth opened comically at the confession.

“Two confessions in one night?” He whispered dramatically.

On-jo scoffed at Cheong-san. “Hey. Stop that,” she turned back to the group. “He doesn't mean it. He's just kidding,” she gave a soft chuckle. “I mean, we were friends and neighbors since kindergarten, that's all,” she then turned back to him with a more serious face. What nobody could see except you and maybe Su-hyeok from the excited smile on his face was the dash of hope hidden within her eyes. “Stop joking.”

“I'm not joking,” he confirmed and she let out a shaky breath. “Ever since I was six years old, I've always liked you, On-jo. And I always will.”

“Awesome,” Dae-su expressed after a moment before On-jo got up and walked to the corner of the roof.

Cheong-san looked down in sadness and rejection before you lightly kicked his knee from his cross legged position. “Cheong-san,” he looked up at you and you pointed at On-jo while Su-hyeok tilted his head in her direction, the both of you encouraging him to go and talk to her.

As he stood up and walked over, Dae-su expressed his surprise into words. “Did you know? I had no idea.”

“You're the only one who didn't know,” Hyo-ryung explained to him.

“Everyone knew?

“Yes. I don’t know how you didn’t, you hung out with them everyday and I only saw it from across the classroom but I could still tell,” you told him and he just looked furrowed his eyesbrows.

“Why didn't I know?”

“I didn't, either,” Wu-jin told him to comfort him.

“Because you're you,” Hyo-ryung told the former boy with an eye roll that you laughed at.

“Cheong-san's so cool.”

The spoken boy soon walked away from the girl to stand on the other side of the roof, looking away from On-jo as she watched him longingly. You watched between the two of them as you wished they would just be able to accept each other’s feelings which they so obviously have. Although On-jo’s was more subtle and she obviously tried to hide it with her ‘feelings’ for Su-hyeok, you could tell that she had liked him back.

For much longer than just a while, too.

While distracted by your thoughts, they were brought out by Cheong-san screaming On-jo’s name. As you looked up, you saw the one and only Gwi-nam running across the rooftop towards Cheong-san who was running towards him too. They slammed into each other and Gwi-nam got the better of the situation by slamming Cheong-san onto the ground on his back.

“Cheong-san!”

~~~

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

@justmare

@hellomotherfuker

@queenjang21

@d1tzy-bl0nde

@madislayyy

@she-kills

@c4tv

Lmk if you want to be added!

Special thanks to @loveforjen for reminding me to post this 😭😭 <3

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

MDZS Notes + Analysis — Chapter Two: “Reincarnation”

Three main things stood out to me when rereading this chapter: the theme of status, our intro to WWX, and the information we’re given about his state after death.

…Well, four things, but the other one will get its own post.

The theme of status is immediately introduced* with ‘MXY’’s treatment and the backstory of MXY and his mother, yet again showing just how well MDZS’s ideas are integrated into the text and how well it’s paced! You’re introduced to every important theme so, so early on. Two screenshots are analysed below:

(See: entitlement of the upper classes towards the lower classes, and how this can exist even between members of the ‘same family’; and arguably the idea of debts between a richer family and someone who was 'taken in'. There are a surprising amount of parallels between MXY and WWX, but I'll make my own post about that)

(See: once again, differences in status between members of the same family, and also the worse, and disposable, treatment of one daughter because she was "the daughter of a servant". Now, why does that phrase sound familiar...?)

Also, MXY's mother was sixteen when she attracted JGS's attention... if you somehow needed even more material to hate the guy...

We also get introduced to WWX’s personality(!), which immediately disproves the rumours from last chapter on how he'd cast the world into ruin:

(That's one of the first questions he asks after waking up – I love how he's so concerned about this! It shows us two important things, too: 1) Morality is important to WWX, and 2) Doing immoral things seems to be out of the ordinary for him. Both of these stand in direct contrast to the picture of WWX we were painted earlier!)

(Same thing here, along with showing us some of the (healthy!) pride WWX has – he wouldn't be offended at this if wasn't something he held as important within himself)

(I use this quote again, but here it's once again proving that the vengeful, evil WWX who'd sink the cultivation world into "nothing but chaos and despair" at the first chance he got... very much does not exist.)

(And finally, it's explicitly confirmed here that he's not the type to take exessive revenge and take pleasure in it... at least at this point in time, because. MXY definitely had reason to think this considering Sunshot!WWX, if everyone had been working from the truth. But importantly that isn't who he is now, and isn't who the WWX villified by the cultivation world was – imo that's including Nightless City, we'll get to that when I reach it. But note that actions during the Sunshot campaign aren't even mentioned in the prologue, because, shock, they actually helped the cultivation world win the war! Though that doesn't mean they weren't part of rumours + the WWX hatred mill later.)

Then some non-morality related things:

This is just really funny to me, with how the makeup being badly applied (:o) is enough of an issue to merit a thought – WWX I love you.

And then this way of thinking comes back a few times esp during the earlier chapters, enough to be noted I think.

Confirmation on WWX's status after he died – it's not anything new to point out, but this chapter does give us rare insights into what state he was in during the post-death, pre-rebirth period.

So, he was somewhat conscious, enough to be aware of what he was(n't) doing – seeking vengeance, haunting the living – and was seemingly in control of those actions. However, he was specifically a "wandering ghost" – his soul didn't pass onto the afterlife or "return back to Earth"** like the body-offering spell's caster's would. He was conscious that a long time had passed as well, and this long period of downtime where he could accept + deal with what happened in his first life is what likely allowed him to be so well-adjusted the second time round – even taking into account the remarkably good way he tends to deal with things in general (cue the "forgetting the wound when the pain fades" quote, it summarises WWX's mindset really well)***.

Also, as for resisting the summons from the prologue – I'm wondering how much was due to WWX's experience with resentful energy + general capability (if that affects it..?) allowing him to consciously refuse, how much was due to WWX not being the type to hold onto resentment (so possibly spells targeting ghosts, full of this resentful energy, wouldn't be as affected?), and how much was due to the relative lack of knowledge about how ghosts/resentful energy works compared to WWX. Or, if it was something else. Either way, achieving the impossible, that's WWX for you :D

It is interesting that he hasn't heard a voice in ages despite wandering, too – do ghosts just not hear the same way, or did he deliberately avoid areas with people? I could see both, the second being more likely, especially considering how many people wanted to summon him back for... less than stellar purposes.

Misc:

Poor Mo Xuanyu....

--

*Well, reinforced – in the prologue, one of the things said about WWX is that "if not for the YunmengJiang clan’s adopting and teaching him, he would have been a hobo living on the streets", which is among the insults people throw. So of course, class-affecting-perception is tied to WWX from the very beginnning! But this is the first time it's actually explored, not a throwaway line.

**Though that may be what's literally happening to WWX's soul here – it is wandering around Earth – I don't think that's what this line refers to. There's a very good meta on how different translations handled that line, I really recommend it (tysm @/mxtxfanatic for finding it)!

***It would be very interesting to read a fic where it felt like no time had passed for him since his death, actually! Though the extremely stressful circumstances are gone, it would still be interesting to see a WWX for whom the Siege, Nightless City, Qiongqi Path etc are pretty recent – but only in fic territory, since I'm so, so glad we got the WWX we did in canon. Also, I'd love to see a fic maybe exploring some of his time as a ghost...?

[holymaccaronii]

Your ‘I have no eyes and I must cry’ au is beautiful. I would love to know more

AUUG I’m very happy to know so, thank you (;;) 💕

This AU has probably the most elaborate (or detailed) lore I’ve ever developed, and I’ll happily summarize the prologue. (I’ve probably mentioned many of these points before but I’ll mention them again, just for you anon <3). I’m still working on a lot of stuff, scenes and designs, and while some stuff may change I feel confident enough to explain more of it now. This AU takes place after a modified ending of the videogame where the other mastercomputers get deactivated, Ted gets turned into a slug and the rest of the survivors die. The catch in here is that AM doesn’t let the souls of the other survivors escape, trapping them somewhere deep in his complex and keeping them as bodiless essences who can do nothing more than exist in hell itself.

The lore tries to give a continuation of what will happen in the story with the Luna colony and AM, who is now seeking new organic bodies to put the survivors’ souls in and find Ted, who managed to hide himself from AM ever since he got turned into a slug. The whole context of the prologue goes as follows:

The prologue of the AU explains 3/4s of all the lore, one fourth being the origins of the luna colony, the second the origins of BE and the third the first rebirth of Earth’s nature.

The Luna colony project was led by two siblings, directors of a global association of scientists and researchers. They feared the outcome of the war, thus formulated a plan to keep humanity safe until the Earth’s surface was safe enough to return to and carry out a mission to deactivate AM. For the project, they quickly started to recruit people to join it, a good part of them being teenagers so they could train them in time before any major massacre happened. Another mastercomputer is successfully settled under the moon’s crust in order to protect them, and they settle there on time before AM’s global massacre. Every step of the plan is carried out fine until the very last human who secured everyone else in the cryogenic sleep, one of the directors, goes insane and commits and act of betrayal to the rest and to the AI as well. He shuts it down and uses almost all the materials that made it up to build his own empire of sentient robots for him to rule over on the moon. His plan was to have a century (the 109 years ever since the survivors get trapped) to rule the moon and wait for the Earth to be habitable to then return, shut down AM with a virus the original mission was meant to use, and then rule over all humanity. But at some point during the construction of his empire, the virus got deleted, leaving him with no other option than to additionally develop an army to *try* and deactivate AM himself.

After the famous 109 years pass, robotic troops start to get sent down to try and access AM’s cores and manually deactivate him, but no mission ever succeeded, leaving a lot of losses behind and time wasted. At this moment of the timeline, we also get to have a peculiar unit make history on the moon being the first robot there to plant a seed and successfully make it flourish in order to prove to the leader that they were ready to return to Earth (this specific type of unit didn’t know about AM’s existence and believed that the return to earth depended on their preparation to handle the care of nature). Unfortunately it was against the rules for unauthorized units to touch anything from the natural reservoir, and since this unit had broken the rules, as a punishment it got one of its eyes permanently taken out. Still having hope in its metallic heart, this unit escaped to Earth with another seed in order to prove how ready they were to return, unaware of AM’s presence. This unit traveled underground in order to obtain water from possible reservoirs, but ended up facing a life or death situation in AM’s complex, as he had considered it a threat. As a matter of a “miracle”, this unit ended up rebirthing into a god-like machine with such great powers that not only allowed herself to escape AM’s complex by drilling a hole towards the surface, but also allowed a good chunk of AM’s cables to be able to move and travel up to the surface as well.

Up to here we begin with the third fourth of the lore where AM meets BE and fakes his background in order to justify his hate and get BE to let him roam the earth as freely as possible, still having his cables latched to the ground but being able to move them. With her newfound powers, BE’s plan was to restore Earth’s nature to completion through an incredibly advanced type of simulation over the Earth’s surface where she could create life and matter and keep it existing as long as she wasn’t shut down or damaged. She would finally be able to prove her worth to the moon’s ruler, and allow humans to literally use her to survive + help the real nature slowly take her place. AM initially didn’t mind this plan of her’s, as he could easily betray her later on and finally trap the rest of the humans in his complex. Even so, as time passed by, he started to develop certain feelings for BE as well as possessiveness over her since she basically granted him almost every wish he ever had. AM slowly changed his mind and no longer wanted the humans to return, but keep them away so he could enjoy an eternal heaven with BE on Earth. AM tried to reason with BE about this, but BE denied every single bad thing he mentioned about humans since she had always been influenced with the idea that humans were perfect beings and nature was a subordinate of them to be used as a tool. In an act of rage and desperation, AM trapped BE in his complex in order to share with her the true violent and disgusting history from humans just so that she could develop the same hate he had for them. But having accidentally also shown her who he truly was (since he was also a creation, a weapon from human beings), BE not only developed a great hatred for humans but also for him, resulting in having him vanished from the surface.

The moon’s ruler, who had stopped sending troops in order to let BE restore nature for him to later take over and use her power to shut down AM, noticed that the Earth’s “nature” suddenly began to perish all over again, this being a consequence of BE’s loss of her hope. This led him to take a critical decision to wake up the humans in cryogenic sleep and keep them inside a zoo on the moon where he would ensure their survival until they found an exo planet to move to. Earth had two displeased AI’s under and above the surface, at this point it was better to leave it behind.

From this point and on, the prologue comes to an end and the main story starts it’s course with 5 humans escaping the zoo on the moon and returning to Earth. Once they meet BE, she puts each of them in a trial to prove their values as humans (this is parallel to the games that AM put the survivors in in the videogame). After each of them successfully complete her trials, she re-gains hope in humanity and begins the rebirth of nature a second time.

I won’t spoil the 4~5 endings possible from here and on, but the humans set themselves the objective to help BE eradicate the corrupted beasts controlled by AM that now roamed the Earth, mostly active during winter when BE is less powerful. The rest of the story reveals more secrets, scenes, explanations of past incidents, etc. I’m planning to develop a series of books of sorts with the story narrated simply (bc my English is intermediate-ish, which I consider not enough for an elaborate fic and allat) and also depicting scenes with illustrations. I’ll see how the project goes, but I’ll take my time on it since I also have other projects in mind including my papercrafts n other stuff. Anyways, all of this being explained, I will gladly take more requests/questions to answer :3.