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min-jpg · 3 years ago

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Hi!! Can you do they boys getting kidnapped but its Diluc, Childe, and Kazuha? Thank you!!💗💗

Note: I just want to point out that there's no actual reason on how I choose for the reader to beat up the kidnappers since part 1,, it's totally random as long as I'm trying out different ideas whatever fits ehe. Enjoy! 💖

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Kidnapped Genshin Boys x Fem Rich!reader pt.2

Part 1 (Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao)

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Kazuha

Genre: fluff, established relationship, some woman kicking ass action, (TW: mentions of blood and violence)

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CHILDE

Your boyfriend would definitely try to go head-to-head against the shady group of people who abducted him. The gang accountable must be living under the rock for even considering one of the most dangerous Harbingers as their prey to carry out their schemes.

However, Childe learned that there would be ramifications if he tries to be rash without gathering solid intel first. Having no knowledge of your current circumstances and whereabouts troubled him to the core. They could have already sent out a corresponding group towards you and endanger you if he failed to listen.

Being wealthy is not a foreign concept to Childe as he is also a wealthy man himself. That said, the premonition of being a target for a ransom would not be unrealistic to him. For now, he is glad that he is the victim here instead of having to witness you kidnapped.

"You know, you could've asked me nicely for some money. I might just give it to you, instead of doing all this for my girlfriend's money." Despite being in a position far from desirable, Childe leisurely sat on the chair that he was bound to, crossing his legs. He was making small talks to push away the worst scenarios happening to you. Are you safe? Are you crying? Did they hurt you?

"I don't know who you are to be running your mouth, but you should value your life a little more." Their leader emerged from the group.

Childe's ocean eyes squinted as menace casts upon his pupils, his voice lowered, "Is that so? Ironic, because you guys seem to value money more than your lives."

The head stepped back slightly, "Enough with your empty threats! You should be aware of the current situation you're in. We're not fooling around here."

"I'm not fooling around either."

As sparks were thrown back and forth, you made your way in through the main entrance. Tapping the shoulder that belongs to one of the men, "Excuse me, I need to get to my boyfriend." Your fist sunk into the side of his face when he turned towards you. He collapsed on the ground with a few broken teeth and blood spewing out of his mouth. Moving on to the next adversary in your path, you fought with full faith in your abilities no matter how intimidating they were.

Soon, the leader and people further ahead finally took notice of it. You pave your way towards your boyfriend and eventually, both your eyes meet each other. Childe puffed out a breath of relief when he finally saw you, but also registering the fact that you just took down most of the men with your bare hands.

Kicking away the men who tried to grab you, you then waved enthusiastically at Childe, "Hey girlie, hold still." Rushing right ahead to the leader, you brought your arm near your face, elbow pointing outwards. The sharp edge from your elbow jabbed his throat, causing him to choke and lose balance.

As his reaction dulled, it was your chance to strike again. Thus, you gallantly overthrew their leader and the entire gang by yourself.

After helping Childe, he stood up abruptly and placed his hands on your shoulder with eagerness written all over the face, "I never knew you could fight so well! How about a spar with me right now?" Expect your boyfriend to continuously bug you to indulge in his rampant itch to fight anyone that comes across as a worthy opponent. Though, the real takeaway from this experience was the way your hair clings to your face with sweat as the adhesive and the triumph look in your eyes. It was a rather attractive sight to relish in his taste.

DILUC

Your boyfriend would be infuriated that crooked people like these exist, much less target him to extort money from you. Just another validation to add up on how incompetent the Knights of Favonious is, he thought. Someone will have to clean up their mess, that someone being him. What better way to do that than to follow them to their hideout to seek out the whole organization?

Diluc is renowned for being one of the richest men in Teyvat. Naturally, the group thought they hit the jackpot on not only holding him for ransom, but potentially garnering some money from him as well.

The only concern he carries is your wellbeing. Diluc fears that this incident will affect you mentally. His head started filling up with formulations on ways to resolve this matter without causing any uproar to guarantee your safety.

When the head was introduced to him, he gritted his teeth to suppress every ounce of his might to not reach for his claymore. Diluc still has to prioritize gathering information first regarding the gang. His patrons at Angel's Share are usually the ones providing him with promising intel of any evildoers, but some things are just meant to be obtained by himself.

"Is this the only hideout you have? Quite in a shambles, don't you think?" Diluc's eyes shifted around the dilapidated building, observing the surroundings to know his enemies better.

The leader rolled his eyes, "It wouldn't be so bad once we get some funding from you and your girlfriend." Diluc hummed. Judging from his answer, it is safe to assume that the organization is rather a small scaling one. Defeating them right now will result in uprooting the source once and for all.

As Diluc was about to do so, a lackey of the gang ran frantically towards them, panting labored when he reached and trying to catch his breath. "What is it?" The leader question.

"T-there's... there's someone." He pointed towards a direction with fear layering his voice.

"What? Why are you so scared?" They all glanced towards the spot.

"I swear there was a woman! I don't know who it is, but she took out some of our guys on guard outside."

In disbelief that a woman could have done anything so reckless, the leader trudged to said location. As it is a spot lacking light, the darkness and shadow made it challenging for him to pinpoint if anyone is there. When he moved closer, you crept out behind from his blind spot and kicked the back of his head, causing his head to spin. Your arm lunged forward, gaining a tight hold onto his nape. You put everything into pushing him, his forehead hammered down to the floor. Creating a loud thud, it gave him a concussion.

"Looking for me?" Your foot stamped onto his back, just making sure he stays down.

Everyone, including your boyfriend, had their pupils dilated at the scene. You sighed at the silence, "All of you just messed with the wrong couple." Lifting your foot away, you stomped forward without giving them a second thought. Your arms and legs are all warmed up for many rounds against your foes.

Diluc watched you from afar as you drove your way towards victory. Although he could step in to help, he admits silently to himself that he would like to observe you a little longer. Putting his trust in your calibers to carry you far, his eyes never left your brave figure.

Once you cleared the group, the next thing to do is checking on Diluc. Already unfastening the restrains himself, he walked to you, "That was well executed. Your abilities shouldn't be underestimated. Don't join the Knights though." He stressed the last remark, scoffing. You chuckled and held his hand to guide him out of here, "Thanks. Glad to impress you, Master Diluc. Let's go home."

KAZUHA

Your boyfriend is a rather hard target to impose on for their plans of kidnapping him. His senses are just too refined for an ordinary person to challenge. Basic tactics, such as overthrowing him with the element of surprise have proven to be futile. Thus, Kazuha will always be able to evade falling prey into their hands.

The only way Kazuha could have been kidnapped is through falsifying evidence of you being in a life-threatening situation. Although he has successfully saved his own skin, not the same could be applied to you. Feeling his resolve shaken, what other choices could he have? Prioritizing your safety is the most important thing right now.

Kazuha may have faced similar situations in the past when out in the sea, encountering pirates of other crew aiming for the Crux Fleet's fortune. Being in the position as a captive for ransom is new. He actually found it amusing, rather than having thoughts of blaming you. It is not your fault that you are blessed with wealth. It is the fault of the criminals.

"Ain't you that the kid who's with Beidou? You're part of her crew." The leader questioned his target, to which he was greeted by Kazuha's silence. "Tell you what. You're just like the rest of us. We want to be rich. How about you ask your girlfriend to bring some more money and we'll give you a share as well?"

Kazuha's face darkened, "I don't know what you've heard, but it must be really valiant of you to assume to worst out of the Crux Fleet and myself. I'd appreciate it if you cease lumping me together with criminals like you."

The Crux Fleet does put up with an infamous reputation amongst the Qixing. Perhaps the abductors concluded that Kazuha has a negative conscience just like them, as in upholding a relationship with you to have a taste of your assets. Still, if he tried to talk his way out of it, barbarians like them will never reach a mutual understanding with him. Kazuha shut his eyes, ignoring any further confrontations to preserve his energy as he contemplates a plan.

He was interrupted when he thought he heard your voice nearby, carried by the wind. The others around him did not hear it since it was just something only Kazuha could pick up. Applying full concentration, he managed to form what he heard, "Get out of my way, please, while I'm asking nicely."

Opening his eyes, he turned to stare at the entrance. As if on cue, the door swung open when you kicked it down, announcing your presence. Some men fainted below your feet.

The others instantly reacted by storming towards your direction to stop your advancement. You stood still in your position, taking a mindful deep breath. One thing you learned from Kazuha is to always remain cold-headed before engaging in a fight.

Kazuha wanted to get out of the restraints to rescue you, but instead, you started dishing out few moves against the men.

When you thought you finished with the remaining numbers, their leader was about to declare his victory, "I got you!" Encircling his arm around your neck in an attempt to strangle you, you huffed and grinned towards Kazuha to signal him you have it under control.

You elbowed his stomach and felt him loosen his grip when he winced. Making enough gap between his arm and your neck, you slipped away and swiftly kicked in between his groins. The color drained from his face and tumbled to the ground, passing out in pain, "Hmph, this is what happens when you touch a lady without her permission." You brushed away the hair from your face after an arduous fight.

Jogging towards your boyfriend, "Kazuha!" He brisked towards you as well and held you in his embrace, softly rubbed your nape, "You're giving me plenty of inspirations for a haiku after such a wonderful performance." Kazuha would appreciate you refraining from such a heedless approach next time. He was comforted to see you safe and knowing the threats were nothing more than to use you, his weakness, against him. After witnessing that, Kazuha will be slightly ashamed he even doubted you in the first place, so he trusts that you can watch out for yourself next time.

#childe x reader #childe genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc genshin impact #kazuha x reader #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons

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yeeyee-alumni · 3 years ago

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Joel did not doom humanity (no matter how much the second game wants you to believe that)

To demonize Joel’s decision at the end of the first game (saving his surrogate daughter’s life) you need to bend over backwards and ignore any and all context the first game gave us with regards to who the Fireflies truly are. Because the truth of the matter is: a) they knocked Joel unconscious while he was trying to revive a young girl b) they drugged Ellie immediately to tear her body apart for their needs c) THEY DID NOT ASK ELLIE FOR PERMISSION to give her life for their cause, they didn’t even tell her she would have to die (Ellie was making plans with Joel after the giraffe scene, “Once we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Okay?”, clearly indicating she had no idea she would have to die) d) they did not let Ellie and Joel see each other to say their goodbyes e) they were about to walk Joel out into the wilderness without any of his gear/resources, which during the zombie apocalypse is a certain death sentence f) they didn’t hold up their end of the bargain (remember how Marlene promised Joel guns in return for delivering Ellie?) So even if you show them as much goodwill as possible, the Fireflies are still a bunch of assholes. If the exact opposite had happened, they let Joel go all on good terms and then he suddenly decided to turn around and murder everyone I would have called him a terrible person, but that is not what happened. As it stands, the Fireflies are shady and questionable at best. But it actually gets worse:

a) the procedure that would 100% kill Ellie had an incredibly low success rate (the doctor mentioned in his recording that every previous operation with other test subjects had failed) b) the same recording mentions cerebrospinal fluid having been extracted, meaning they were capable of performing a non-lethal spinal tab, but they’re unable to perform a non-lethal biopsy or craniotomy on Ellie? (this may seem like nit-picking, but actually further solidifies my point about how incompetent the Fireflies/Abby’s dad were/was) c) to add to their immense incompetence, mere hours after receiving Ellie they decide to IMMEDIATELY KILL THE ONLY PERSON KNOWN TO BE IMMUNE as oppose to keeping her alive for as long as possible to run every single test in existence on her. But let's paint a picture of the best case scenario, which is Jerry, the absolute legend that he is, actually manages to get a vaccine out of Ellie, what happens then? a) How are the Fireflies, who are nearly extinct at this point, supposed to MASS PRODUCE and NATIONWIDE DISTRIBUTE a vaccine? That is logistically impossible. b) More than likely, they would use the vaccine as a bargaining chip against FEDRA (granted, this is more a guess than a fact, but to believe they wouldn’t take advantage of the vaccine in the fight for political power against the government they’ve been fighting for years is beyond naïve). But let’s be even more generous: turns out the Fireflies are the most altruistic resistance group to have ever existed, they actually manage to produce and distribute the vaccine into every last corner of the country, everyone is immune. What now? a) You might be immune to spores and bites, but your immunity doesn’t help you when a clicker rips your throat out or a bloater crushes you to death, the infected can still kill you in numerous other ways. b) The faction wars going on are not gonna disappear overnight. WLF and Seraphites will continue to kill each other by the dozens every day, one could even argue that introducing a vaccine into the conflict would only cause things to escalate further. c) Numerous cannibals, hunters and bandits still roam the country, they will not abandon their practices overnight and they are arguably a much bigger threat than the infected to begin with. Just because everyone is immune does not mean that the world returns to sunshine, rainbows, and flowers. To imply that it would, means being simplistic and naive beyond reason. It should be obvious by now that Ellie’s death WOULD NOT HAVE IMPROVED ANYTHING. The chances of actually getting a vaccine are slim to none, the chances of vaccinating everyone are even more dour, and even then the overall situation would not improve much. With such bad prospects I wouldn't be willing to sacrifice my child either. (I am aware that an argument can be made that none of these factors had an impact on Joel’s decision to save Ellie, yet they’re still crucial when making a judgement about the Fireflies/Abby’s dad). To summarize: a) Abby’s dad was incompetent and a horrible person (his conversation with Abby in the second game tells us that he would not be willing to sacrifice his own child, but if it’s someone else’s it’s a-okay for him). b) The Fireflies were a malicious and incompetent terrorist group with messed up morals. c) No, Joel did not doom humanity. Subsequently, Abby’s quest for revenge was not justified because the Fireflies and her dad were never justified in their actions to begin with. And this is only solidified by the second game having to retcon the hell out of all these arguments I just painstakingly illustrated and explained in order to even attempt to have Abby’s motivation be seen as justified. Only one example being how it was clearly established in the first game that they had MULTIPLE doctors in Salt Lake City (Marlene: “The doctors tell me that the cordyceps, the growth inside her, has somehow mutated.”; Ellie: “She said that they have their own little quarantine zone. With doctors there still trying to find a cure.”). Yet in the second game we are told by

Abby that actually no, turns out her dad was the only doctor that could have developed vaccine. And it doesn't take mental gymnastics to see why the second game takes it upon itself to alter most of the context of the first one: to (retroactively!) condemn Joel. HOWEVER, a sequel doesn’t get to pick and choose which established facts from the first entry it builds upon or what it gets to retroactively declare as non-canon only to have it fit their preferred narrative. Quite frankly, that’s bad writing. A sequel, in order to be considered well-written, has to not only be a natural continuation of the events, but has to stay consistent with the characters and the world that were previously set up. And if you have to alter much of the context to make it look like Joel condemned the world, isn't that the most obvious sign that he never actually did? And all of this effort for just one goal: to justify Abby’s quest for revenge and yet it still wasn’t and here’s why: Joel killed her dad in order to PREVENT HIM FROM KILLING HIS DAUGHTER. Abby on the other hand WILFULLY SLOW TORTURED Joel for what appears to be hours, prolonging his death for as long as possible, all for her own gratification (and we won't mention how she went through with it despite Ellie's crying and pleading). And don’t even try to make the argument about Abby wanting “justice”, Joel didn’t torture her dad out of revenge or for his own gratification - this is not justice, this is simply sadistic. A man killing someone who is about to murder their child in semi-self-defense cannot be compared to someone wilfully slow torturing someone to death for their own gratification, like Jesus, I didn’t think I’d have to spell that one out. I am aware that the second game tries to do whatever it can, including retconning their own original story, to paint Ellie and (especially!) Joel as evil. And for a considerable amount of the player base this actually worked, and while I cannot find it in me to condemn them (we all experience stories differently after all), I reserve the right to reject arguments in defense of Abby such as “all people are forced to do bad things during the apocalypse” and “does context even matter?”. If the only way you can defend/justify Abby's actions is to remove all context and nuance, then your reasoning is built on quicksand.

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saphirered · 3 years ago

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I thought this would be an interesting twist: After the failed ritual, what if Lucien's s/o ran into Molly? Thank you!

Okay so this one came out quicker than I expected 😅. Little 'twist' at the end because I could not help myself. I hope you enjoy it! 😘

You warned him. You warned him so many times but he wouldn’t bloody listen. Too caught up in his own game for power, never satisfied. But what were you supposed to do? Stop him? No, you’d never. You loved him more than that but you were not prepared to follow him to his own death. Lucien, you idiot how could you? You tried everything but he didn’t come back. The ritual failed. You didn’t want to uphold your part of the bargain. You knew this mage had ulterior motives and after being granted a peak of those pages she wouldn’t back down.

The woman wanted it all for herself and Lucien stood between her and that power the Eyes of Nine had to offer. Knowing the Tombtakers would follow Lucien to the extremes they would also accept the risks of this ritual and would be content but disappointed should it fail. With what you had seen you knew it shouldn’t fail. You had warned Lucien of your suspicions but his own arrogance made him blind to the consequences of this all. He wouldn’t listen and you were becoming an obstacle so when the ritual was to go down you weren’t there.

Lucien has slipped away from your warm embrace in the dead of night to perform the ritual and of course Vess messed with it, assuring he wouldn’t be able to return to his body therefor as per the agreement, she’d take the book as payment. It was too late when you found him, already dead. No amount of healing or revivification could bring him back to you. You had to accept that but you could enact revenge on the bitch that took him away from you. You’ll have her wishing she was the one in a shallow grave instead.

The Tombtakers diverged, finding their own paths. Cree tried to take you with her but you wouldn’t. You had your own task to complete. After that you could rest. Making the arrangements, finding allies where you could, earning and cashing in favours from anyone of power or resources you could left you with quite the arsenal at your disposal but you couldn’t just walk into the capital of the Dwendalian Empire and murder one of the archmages of the Cerberus Assembly. You had to be patient, lay low and let everyone think you moved on.

Still you visited the grave whenever you could. There was a comfort in the hope that maybe, wherever he was he could hear you. Lucien would probably scold you for going on a revenge path against one of the most powerful magic users on the continent all by your lonesome. He’s one to talk. Nevermind, you told him about your adventures, and hoping to acquire the resources to attempt to bring him back. You won’t give up hope.

Then you returned, returned to find the grave empty. You followed the tracks but they lead you nowhere. You had to find him. You had to find Lucien before anyone else did because what might they do? What state would he be in? Does this mean he’s already ascended? Would this mean he’d truly fully become the Nonagon for once and for all? But most of all, you just want him back in your arms knowing he’d be safe. You’d scour Exandria to find him.

There you are standing in a dark alleyway, hood blocking direct view of your face as you’re quite literally in the middle of a back alley deal. You’re no stranger to the shady business and shady people can most often be found in these places. You pay your contact in exchange for the information your requested, satisfied with the results. You hear commotion on the main street. Guards. Parting from your contact you wait for the guards to pass. That’s when you notice a lavender tiefling bolt past you. A very familiar lavender tiefling.

Confusion, relief, heartache, panic, happiness, disappointment, a wave of emotion hits you in a way you’re not even sure how you’re supposed to feel at this point. Many questions accompany those feelings. What are you supposed to do? Well, go after him of course! If Lucien’s back and he’s being chased by guards, that’s not a good thing for the current situation. Sticking to the shadows you trail along. Lucien may just have lost his touch but perhaps the city is an unfamiliar one to him and alone, he doesn’t know the way. The tattoos are new, so are the rather colourful clothes but you know he never does anything without reason.

You figure out where he’s going, the direction at least and from your own past encounters here you know the side alleys. You take a path that should have you end up ahead of him. You’ll have to take a few rooftops and private yards but it’s the quickest and you’ve done it plenty of times. Once you get in place you take off your cloak, get ready. You hear the guards shouting for reinforcements. The closer he gets from around the corner you can see the smug grin filled with mischief as he runs. You’ve missed that one.

The moment comes and you grab onto him as he passes pulling him into the alley with you, wrapping your cloak around him and pulling the hood up. Hands on both sides of his face you look at him closely. There’s confusion in his eyes as they focus on you. He’s already out of breath but you pull him into a deep kiss. Lucien hits the wall behind him and readjusts the hood of the cloak to keep his face covered. The response to the kiss only comes with the sound of the guards drawing near and is very confused. The guards pass by. They glance into the alley but awkwardly turn back to following the street upon seeing the two of you together.

As soon as they’re gone Mollymauk breaks away from you. He’s breathing heavily more from the run than the kiss you shared. He’s very confused. Indifferent to being kissed by a stranger, this… unexpected to say the least. He’s got no idea who you are but you saved his ass so you’re alright in his books at the moment. That doesn’t mean he’s not wary of you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you know him, or well whoever he used to be and with the conflicting emotions running through you he’ll have to think fast to spin his bullshit correctly.

“You have no idea how happy I am you’re alive. Does this mean it worked after all? Did you succeed?” You run your thumbs over Lucien’s cheekbones as he holds onto your wrists lightly. The pressure in your chest grows heavier as you await his answer.

“It did. I did. It didn’t go as planned but I’m here now.” Molly works his charm like his life depends on it because he entertains the thought it might. Your touch, there’s something eerily familiar about it, akin to being reminded of a distant long forgotten dream. Hazy but it feels real. He still has no idea who you are and there’s no bells ringing either. While he much rather run far away avoiding any and all connections to a past not his, he cannot help but commend whoever came before him. The one that got buried definitely had a good taste in lovers? Friends? Molly’s not going to assume even though you kissed him quite passionately.

Your chest clenches and it feels as if your breath won’t leave your body, your blood stopping in your veins, like you got hit by an extra dimensional force attempting to pull everything away from you. You listen to Lucien’s words. It looks like him but why do you feel like you hear someone else? It’s not an illusion or some trick you’re sure. If it were your enemies would have known to pick a better imposter and you’d have been dead already. Your own mind fights against this train of thought, justifying it. Lucien had been dead for weeks until you found the empty grave. Of course there were bound to be side effects or even consequences to the ritual. But then again, it had been two years since then. Two years to recover from whatever happened…

“You don’t know me, do you?” Speaking the words out loud breaks your heart. You don’t fight the pain they cause. There’s no tears. You’ve already grieved Lucien once. You’re not doing it again. This will be nothing more than a painful reminder, a cruel joke from the gods behind the divine gate. Why must the fates torture you so for nothing more than loving an ambitious man reaching for the stars and beyond?

“No. I’m sorry.” Molly can’t help but feel your pain. It’s clear you cared a great amount about his predecessor, the way you speak reveals intense heartbreak at the passing of that one. It also shows acceptance that whoever he used to be is gone and you’ve come to terms with that a while ago. That’s enough for him to recognise you won’t hurt him. Molly had never felt sorry for the death of who he used to be and he won’t start now but he does feel sorry for you. This whole situation is messed up.

You close your eyes and nod, dropping your hands and take a step back. No matter how much your heart may tell you to be close to this tiefling, your mind knows it’s not Lucien. You cannot in good conscious hang onto whatever remains. It’s not fair you him, to Lucien but most of all not fair to yourself. Do you wish it was Lucien standing here in front of you? Of course you do. You’d do anything to get him back but what would directing all your pain achieve directed at this new person in the same body? It would accomplish nothing but more pain. You can’t imagine this tiefling in front of you doesn’t have any friends, loved ones, people who care about him. You weren’t going to put you don’t know how many others through the same pain you’ve been put through.

“I am as much of a ghost of the past to you as you are to me.” You’ve come to the conclusion that based of his responses there may not be any recognition, there is an unknown familiarity to you on his end. Perhaps the final slivers of Lucien remaining but nothing more than a fleeting memory. A hand reaches out for yours. You allow him to take your hand and he rubs circles in the back of it with his thumb in an attempt to bring you some comfort. It’s a gesture out of kindness. Not out of selfish intent or with the expectancy to get something out of it, like Lucien would when faced with a stranger he clearly had the upper hand over.

“You seem to have cared for my predecessor, Lucien, quite a lot. I truly am sorry.” You offer him a saddened smile as a silent thank you. He knows Lucien’s name so he must have learned something of the past. You gather it hasn’t been much and most definitely is second hand knowledge by his lack of information on the ritual, who he used to be, everything really.

“You know his name?” The sentence is voiced somewhere in between a question and a statement.

“A blood cleric named Cree. She ran into us-me and mistook me for him. I played along but I don’t think she really bought it. She didn’t reveal much.” The name of the tabaxi alone is enough to make your blood boil. If Cree had known for however long, why hadn’t she gotten in contact with you? You know exactly why and are debating wether or not you could do with a new fur rug. You also acknowledge that Cree is a risk and this new-not Lucien will have to watch his back.

“Since you’re not Lucien nor do you seem to be using that name, what do I call you?”

“Mollymauk Tealeaf or simply Molly to my friends.” The tiefling-Mollymauk smiles at you, a genuine smile. You have to appreciate the small gestures of comfort and kindness.

“I would give you my own name but for both of our sakes I won’t. You may refer to me as an old friend. I know I have no right to but may I ask you a favour?”

Mollymauk nods. As always he leaves a place better than he found it, tries to bring joy and happiness wherever he can even if that means making a fool of himself. Very few times has he been faced with someone who needs his help as much as you do. While there’s definitely limits to what he can provide, you deserve some compassion. Especially after the shitty cards life had dealt to you. He’ll try to ease that if he can.

“May I- May I ask you to tell me about your life, Mollymauk?” Not the request he expected. Then again, to be fair he didn’t really know what to expect. A kiss maybe? Stick along for a while? Perhaps even a final goodbye so you could close this chapter once and for all? But of all the things you asked about him. Not Lucien. Him.

“It’s a long story…” Molly drifts off reminiscing the wild ride of the past two years, especially the events of the last few months upon joining the Mighty Nein and the adventures they had already gone on; were currently on but if you really wanted to hear all about that, he’d tell you.

“I have plenty of time. How about we walk and talk? Get you back to your traveling companions? Your friends? And if there’s still plenty more to tell, if you want to you can tell me over a few drinks. My treat.” You feel within yourself you’d better be able to let go knowing this Mollymauk is happy and lives content. Lucien might be gone but Mollymauk deserves a good life free of Lucien’s burdens. You’ll do what you can to assure that.

“Never tell a story for free. That sounds like a good deal.” Molly offers you his arm and when you hesitate, expects you not to take it but to his surprise you do. There’s something strangely comforting about the whole ordeal. You’re both strangers to each other but it still feels like you have known each other for years.

On your way to where Mollymauk is staying he feels no need to hold back or deceive and instead tells you what happened to him; how he woke up, dug himself out of a grave and was found by a kind man, joined the circus, became a fortune teller, made friends along the way, found a family, many tales of the mischief he was up to, leaving every place better than he found it. You had some good laughs and were able to ask some questions throughout. All in all you came to the conclusion Mollymauk’s life hasn’t been an easy one but it was a good one and he was happy.

Then he found this group of strangers in a tavern somewhere in Trostenwald. His old family was torn away in the wreckage of a devil toad but he found a new one in these strangers. The Mighty Nein. Their time together has been but a few months but they already feel like family and he’d do anything for them. They might be assholes but they’re good people.

You got to meet them. Molly- as he keeps insisting because you are his friend now, introduced you to this Mighty Nein as he thought it best you heard some of these stories from their mouths too for the sake of perspective. He introduced you to them as such; an old friend from the past. The details were left blurry but Molly’s confidence was enough to leave them at the very least accepting and not mistrusting you. They shared their stories with you. They needed him. They may have come far from the assholes they were, but they still had a ways to go. You knew you could not tear that away from him nor did you feel right to join them, even if temporarily.

It’s time for you to say goodbye. You bid your farewell to the Mighty Nein and while they would ask you to stay just a little longer, you know you cannot. You will not insert yourself into their lives based on the merits of your own lies and life. They are free so let them be free. Molly walks you out so you may have one final conversation before you leave his world behind you.

“You don’t have to go yet. They enjoy your company and honestly, they could learn a thing or two from you.” Molly offers as you stand outside of the tavern, the sky since having grown dark and the stars out. The air is cool, winter is drawing near, before you know it the frost will stick to the ground and you’ll be back in Shadycreek plotting the demise of a certain Cerberus Assembly member. You’ll have to leave this all behind.

“You know I can’t. For all of our sakes.” You offer Molly a smile. You’re happy with what you got to see, the stories you were told but this is where it ends and that’s okay. Molly knows it too. Sometimes it’s better to let go than to hang on. You have your own life just as he has his.

“So I guess this is goodbye then.” Molly takes hold of both of your hands and squeezes lightly before he pulls you in for a hug. You return the embrace. Pulling apart enough to look him in the eyes you stroke his cheek, tracing the tattoos fanning up his neck and jaw.

“I am still but a ghost of the past. A ghost I will remain. I wish you a good life, Mollymauk Tealeaf. May we one day meet again.” You kiss his cheek and despite the appearance of Lucien, it doesn’t feel the same. Despite how it may sound, you’re happy it doesn’t. You step out of Molly’s arms.

“May we meet again.” The words Molly speaks are like a breath upon the wind as you walk backwards, one final look at the lavender tiefling as you blend into the darkness, fading like a ghost.

There may be many more things Molly would like to ask you. He’d like to get to know you and the thought that maybe one day he might, sounds like a good day in his mind. You have your own business to take care of first but maybe one day you will meet again. For now a ghost of the past he doesn’t recall you will remain…

——————

But a few months later you find your way back on the road to Shadycreek Run. There you found a grave marker along the Glory Run Road… The marker held a colourful ostentatious red coat embellished to the nines. It appears to have been left to the weather for some time but you recognise it. Hit with a sense of dread you approach the grave already knowing who it belongs to. The least you can do is pay your final respects to the friend you never got to know more.

You dismount your horse guiding it the reins closer to the marker. That’s definitely Molly’s coat. There’s no denying that now. You walk further up the hill offering a silent prayer to the Moonweaver who Molly admitted to being a follower of.

Approaching the grave you see it dug up. You expect grave robbers, thieves of some kind as you brush your fingers over the fabric of the coat. You get a glance of the grave and see it empty instead. Not robbed; empty. No body, nothing but the marker and the coat. Down the other side of the hill you see a figure, a lavender tiefling, tapestry draped around him watching the skies. The back is turned to you so the tiefling doesn’t see you. A wave of both relieve and dread washes over you as you are met with your own ghost of the past.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #critical role #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #mollymauk x reader #lucien x reader

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stillgirlfrommars · 3 years ago

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you’ve got news

So, I already talked about this with @missmorwen and I know I don’t have the time to draw and make an actual comic out of it, BUT I cannot stop thinking about this SamSteve-post-engdame-fix-it story (with a dash of BuckyNat, ‘cause that’s just who I am) which is kinda crack and very rom-com (a bit you’ve got mail) inspired and doesn't make much sense, because... PLOT HOLES but * sigh * I kinda wanna share at least the idea so - bear with me:

So, instead of Nat dying, Steve sacrifices his Captain America powers on Vormir and comes back as Skinny!Steve and starts running a political blog called you’ve-got-news in secret, uncovering all kinds of shady business/corruption and becoming the bane of existence of every politician and greedy CEO - but it takes a while for his friends to figure out it's him who’s running that increasingly popular blog (which the new Captain America is actually a big fan of ;)). And the way that happens is as follows:

So, Steve almost died at the end of Endgame. The idiot (affectionate) of course still wanted to fight Thanos, but even with Thor’s Hammer, he took some serious, serious injuries which led to a tough talk with Sam, Nat and Bucky

Like I imagine, that while Steve would not have any regrets whatsoever about giving up his powers, he would still need some time to come to terms with the fact that he won’t be able to participate in the action like he used to. Even though, he actually wants and knows... it’s time to ... start something new, it’s still a process. So, there he is, trying to figure out who he is without the mantle of Captain America, re-defining the way he can and will fight against bullies in the future (cause there is no way he’s gonna stop that).

And to the surprise of everyone, Steve actually doesn’t press for participating in Avenger-style-fights anymore (he still does some of the practical mission planning and shit like that) but most importantly, he starts taking up new hobbies, like cooking or old hobbies like drawing - and he seems happier than he has in a long time, and yeah maybe it’s a bit too good to be true, if Sam starts thinking about it. But, hey, Steve finally seems to be happy so -

Meanwhile, Sam still becomes the new Captain America, and Steve is there while he is adjusting, finding himself in that role. He is there when Sam needs to talk things through, and yeah, it would still be a process like in tfatws series, but ... a little bit less alone, I guess.

So, the new Captain America fights alongside Nat and Bucky - and it’s good, they work surprisingly well together, but also: those two are stuck right in the middle of a weird assassin!flirting situation (I’m imagening a lot of veeery intense staring at the other while cleaning their weapons or beating someone up, innuendos en masse, dark humour etc.). And frankly, it’s getting on Sam's nerves because they seem to be so oblivious about the whole damn thing. Neither of them is actually admitting to anything, no, they are too busy teasing him about the ‘crush’ he has developed on that mysterious dude who is running the famous political-youve-got-news-blog that gained momentum a while ago and is currently keeping all the corrupt politicians and CEOs on their toes.

So, yeah, Sam might have been caught a couple of times reading or reciting from that blog because - it has actually turned into a pretty efficient way of mobilising people to demonstrate for change and it did give him some tip-offs in regards to who the bad guy really was and yeah. But it’s not a crush... Sam just really likes reading the blog posts, okay. That dude seems pretty cool and they share the same moral code, so... whatever.

What Nat and Bucky and Steve don't know (and he’ll never tell them), is that Sam is actually kiiiiinda already frequently talking with the guy who runs the blog. Anonymously on both ends, of course (because for good reasons both of them are pretty careful about giving away information concerning their identities). And in a way that whole anonymity-thing makes it a lot easier to talk about stuff he finds harder to admit to the people who he knows directly. So, you could say, blog-guy has kinda become Sam's internet friend, but not his crush, no.

Honestly, the crush he is more concerned about (that he also isn't planning on telling anyone about any time soon, cause Bucky would just tease him and Nat would start scheming) is, well, it’s Steve. Because, damn, he likes their get-togethers a lot, the meals Steve's cooking are honestly to die for. They watch baseball together, they do museum-trips... And the way they can talk about (almost) everything... He just feels understood and... yeah, loved (maybe not in the way that he wishes for, but still) and it’s nice to see Steve so happy and okay, maybe it’s getting a bit out of control because Sam took Steve with him to visit Sarah and his nephews and Sarah kinda saw right through his act of ‘hey, this is my best friend’ and ‘what do you mean, I don’t have feelings- okay. Yeah maybe I do’ and told him in no uncertain terms to fucking do something about it and get his shit together.

The thing is, he’s got it bad. But Sam is also torn, because this is the best fucking friendship he's ever had and he does not want to jeopardise that. So, in the end he ends up talking about this with his Internet friend... about how he kinda has this huge crush on his best friend, and his Internet friend is like, ‘TELL ME ABOUT IT, big fucking same here UGH. And I feel like I’m being SO obvious about it all. It’s honestly embarrassing. My other best friend keeps teasing me ‘bout it and tells me to just go for it, but that guy still hasn’t managed to ask out the girl he’s interested in, so, what does he know, right?’. And Sam laughs - at least he’s not alone.

So the days go by (Sam’s pining only increases, Steve took him to a wine tasting the other night and he almost... in his drunk state... almost... but he didn’t) until one day, while blog-guy and Sam are chatting, all of the sudden the blog-guy is like, ‘Shit, I think someone's breaking into my apartment’ and then like, ‘Okay, yes they are’ - and Sam's like, ‘call 911′, and blog-guy writes back ‘mmh think I can handle them’ (and Sam’s like ‘WTF... I know way too many people with zero regards for their own well-being, myself included’)

But then blog-guy is not answering anymore, so Sam frantically calls up Nat who rushes to his flat and Sam says: ‘You need to find out where that IP adress is located ASAP - the dude with that famous blog is in danger.’

And Nat does that multitasking thing where she’s working on the problem while ribbing Sam about the fact that, apparently, Captain America's Internet bestie is that famous blog dude, and- 'Are you sure it’s not a crush?'

But after another minute, Nat sighs and is like, ‘I can't find the location, this thing is encrypted af, it’s impossible.’ Suddenly, she notices something about the setup of the encryption and-, ‘Hang on a second, it was me who set this up for someone back in 2011.′ And as she slips on her jacket, she says to Sam, ‘Come on. I know where we have to go!’

So they make their way to what turns out is Steve's (!!!!) apartment and find him in the middle of a fight against over half a dozen heavily armed people, and yeah - he’s actually doing pretty okay for himself ‘cause he outsmarted a couple of them, but also- they kind of outnumber him, so Nat and Sam get to work.

And Sam doesn't even have time to fully register what that means re:blog-guy until they have successfully defeated the bad guys. After that's done, Steve is like, ‘Thanks guys, but how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Nat... you didn’t bug my apartment, did you??’

And Nat tstsk and then she just laughs because this is priceless and OF CoURSE it is Steve who is behind that blog... (she's a bit mad at herself for not figuring it out sooner, and a bit sad that Steve didn't feel like he could tell her, and that he assumes she has is flat bugged but, also,... kinda impressed.) But then she looks at him with a warm smile on her face, shaking her head, saying, ‘No, I didn’t, Steve.’ Her gaze wanders back and forth between Steve and Sam and she humms- 'That actually makes so much sense oh my god.' So, she leaves them ‘to talk’ ;) and for Sam to explain everything’ - and then it’s just the two of them.

And Sam does explain everything and is like, 'So you're that Blog dude, erm...' He's scratching the back of his neck, cheeks flushed, 'Turns out, we've been talking for months over that blog of yours. I'm (insert-Sam’s-username-here).'- and Steve's eyes go wide and you can literally see him processing that information right then and there and he's sputtering out a light laugh, and he's like 'Hang on a second... I... umm, okay, I gotta ask. So, that best friend you've got a crush on...' Well, it’s now or never -'Is you, yeah..', Sam admits and starts, 'and....' They both laugh again and Steve nods and just says- 'yeah, it’s you, too.'

And then they kiss and yaaay, happy ending!!!

And then the epilogue would be about them having a nice dinner with Bucky and Nat a couple of months later, and the whole time, Sam and Steve are being very much in loveTM. The three guys are standing in the kitchen, while Natasha is in the bathroom and Bucky's making a funny quib about how sickeningly cute Sam and Steve are together - and Sam, well, Sam just raises his eyebrows and is like, 'You know what, you're not allowed to say anything bout that, you and Romanoff have been acting waaaaay worse over the last year. At least we got our shit together in the end, what's your excuse, you are obviously absolutely in love with her!', and of course Nat chooses that exact moment to enter the room, hand on Bucky's waist, dropping a kiss on his cheek and is like, 'What do you mean, we've been dating for 6 months?' And Steve laughs and Sam groans bc .... he loves his friends, he does, but clearly, CLEARLY they ALL have to work on their communication skills!

The End.

#samsteve #buckynat #endgame fix it #Sam Wilson #Steve Rogers #Skinny!Steve #I know it's stupid and cheesy but everything else in my life feels a bit too much at the moment so I needed something cute to think about #Seriously though if anyone wants to use this as a prompt to draw or write... please do

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mrs-hatake · 4 years ago

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why’d you only call me when you’re high

A/N: this spur of the moment fanfic is loosely based on a tiktok video by dabisjuicycums0ckk. enjoy!

p.s, i’m not sure who the owner of the gif is so if you do know please lmk and i’ll credit them!

also, a HUGE thanks to @runeterrankhaleesi for proof reading this fic for me!

The persistent vibration from your phone under your pillow disrupted your sleep.

Groaning, you flipped onto your side and pulled the blanket further above your head, hoping it would somehow block the vibration of your phone and allowing you to return to sleep.

Seconds later, the vibration stopped and you sighed in relief. Just as you were about to fall back into sleep, your phone vibrated again but this time, the action was small. This meant you had a message. Whatever, the person who was texting you at this ungodly hour can wait till the morning when you were awake and had plenty of sleep.

Your phone vibrates not five minutes later. Annoyed and the last bits of sleep had all but disappeared, you propped yourself on your elbow while your other hand searched for your phone under the pillow. Once you’ve come in contact with the rubber material of your phone case, you pulled your phone out and tapped on the screen.

Squinting at the harsh brightness of your phone, you waited until your eyes adjusted to the screen before blinking down at the notifications.

5 Missed calls from Dabi

The first notification had read.

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it and read the notification above it.

Answer your phone

Right now

Your breathing had become shallow and your heart quickened. Dabi was pissed. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Dabi it’s that he does not like to be kept waiting. And, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his fury, you heaved a heavy sigh and called him back. Noticing that it was just a few minutes past three in the morning.

“Took you long enough.” His rough voice greeted you after two rings. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Rolling your eyes, you calmly replied, “I was sleeping.” You hoped that your groggy voice would somehow inform him that you were too tired to do whatever shit he wanted.

“Well, too bad.” Dabi scoffed. “I need to see you.”

Your relationship with Dabi was an odd one.

The two of you have met about a year and a half now after you had encountered the scarred man near the piers one misty, Monday morning. You had been near the piers to meet with one of the loan sharks you had borrowed money from to extend the payment deadline. You never wanted to be associated with such people, but unfortunately, being a teacher doesn’t pay enough. Even though you worked at a prestigious school for up and coming young heroes, your income from that school couldn’t help pay the amount for your mother’s heart surgery. The bank would take too long. They’d have to take up your request to a committee to determine if they could lend you the money based on your yearly salary and how long it takes for you to pay them back. That could take months, maybe even years and you didn’t have time to wait. You were desperate and your mother was in a critical condition- she could die at any moment.

Searching through the dark web, you managed to find a loan shark that was highly respected by people who were in similar positions like you. If you could go back in time, you would’ve stopped yourself from borrowing money from them and wait for the bank’s approval. It’s too late now and what’s done is done. You just hoped that the school wouldn’t find out about this and risk losing your job.

You still trembled in fear whenever you remembered the goon asking you if you had their money. You could vividly hear the slight lisp in his words and could almost smell the scent of his cigar. “You got our money?” He asked in greeting.

Pulling your jacket closer to your body to protect you from the harsh and cold weather, you shook your head at them, “I would like an extension please. I’m close to paying you back. I just need more time.” You pleaded with wide and hopeful eyes. You knew that these people weren’t nice. You knew they’d kill anyone who wouldn’t pay them back. Still, it won’t hurt to ask. Right?

Wrong.

With a snap of the man’s fingers, a foot kicked the back of your knees causing you to fall harshly on the wet ground with a painful wail.

“What the fuck?!” You cried as you held your leg that was throbbing in pain. You let out a hiss as fingers dug themselves into your hair and gave a rough tug, pulling your head up to face the man with the cigar. “I said I’ll pay you back!”

The man let out a chuckle, “Sorry, babycakes. Boss doesn’t like to wait. If you don’t have his money by tonight…” He didn't finish his sentence for you to understand that these people were willing to kill you.

“I can’t save two million yen in one day!”

The man simply shrugged, as if to say, ‘Not my problem.’ “You can rob a bank for all I care.”

“You’re insane!”

The man’s expression darkened and he nodded at the man still clutching your hair tightly. Before you could process what else was going on, the man’s foot came into contact to your side. You couldn’t even scream as the man continued to kick you repeatedly.

Never in your life had you wished you had a quirk than you did at that moment. Curse your quirkless nature and curse the fact that you were only a home room teacher who taught quirk theoretics. If only you had one of your students' quirks, you would’ve fought back and escaped.

Suddenly, you felt an immense wave of heat and heard horrifying screams from above you. The man suddenly let go of your hair, screaming in pain, as the blue flames enveloped him, eating his skin and burning him. Then, he collapsed, his body on the ground still lit ablaze by the inferno. Your breath hitched at the sight.

Turning to your right, you saw a young man dressed in a long leather jacket with a crazed look in his eyes as he turned to face the man with the cigar, a wave of blue fire came from his palm and surged towards the man, ending his life instantly.

The smell of charred skin wafted your nose and you quickly vomited at the disgusting smell of burning flesh.

Once you’ve calmed down, you wiped your lips with the back of your hand and glanced up at the deranged man looking down on you. “What have you done?” Your voice was shaky and your breathing was shallow.

This was bad. The two men you owed money to were dead. There was no way their boss wouldn’t find out about this. They’ll come for you and for that man with a fire quirk. And when you voiced your thoughts, the man just smirked. “I’d like to see them try.”

The glare in your eyes did nothing to diminish his amusement, “I can’t protect myself.” You spat at him.

He blinked lazily at you, his sapphire eyes glowing brightly. “Let’s make a deal. I offer my services to protect you-”

“I’m not going to pay you to protect me.” You interrupted him.

“Wasn’t asking for money.”

“Then what do you want.”

For the second time in your life, you wished you could go back in time to stop yourself from making stupid decisions.

Ever since that day, you’ve become Dabi’s sexual partner.

The two of you didn’t meet often, maybe once or twice every other month before parting ways and never having to see each other until Dabi needed you again.

Things were difficult at first. You had refused the man, almost laughing at the proposition. Dabi, however, had managed to convince you.

“You’ll die.” He had said.

And before you could say anything like I work at U.A, I have other people who can protect me. You remembered that the reason you were in this mess was because you had approached the loan sharks, borrowed money from them and had his goons killed. If the school found out...

The first night Dabi had called you was a week after the two of you had met. He had sent you the location to some cheap motel hidden deep within the city. Somewhere far from respectable neighborhoods and a place where no teacher such as yourself should be in.

Sex with Dabi was...an experience.

Dabi had a strict “Don’t ask, don’t talk” policy. You come, you get naked and you had sex. That’s it. He wouldn’t even offer to clean you up after sex- not that you were expecting him to, but he didn’t even bother cleaning up after himself either. Opted to wipe his dick clean with tissues before pulling his trousers back up and escaping through the motel window. Leaving the check-out procedure to you.

Somewhere down the road, things had shifted between the two of you. He’d call you more often. Your late night encounters becoming weekly rather every other month. His “Don’t ask, Don’t talk policy” had changed to “I ask, You answer”. And, instead of meeting at some shady motels, he’d spend the night with you. That happened when you had received a threatening letter which you instantly knew was from the loan sharks. The fact that they knew where you lived frightened you and the first thing that you did was call Dabi.

The first night Dabi spent in your apartment, he had scanned the entire place to make sure they didn’t bug you.

He had stood by the window, hidden by the thin material of your curtain, to keep an eye out for any suspicious-looking people.

Sleep didn’t come easy for you. Your head jerked whenever you closed your eyes for a couple of minutes. Images of Dabi lying dead on the ground with his blood staining your bedroom floor flashing before you.

“Hey.”

It took you a second to register that Dabi was sitting on the edge of your bed, his fingers tracing your leg that was hidden under the blanket, “You should sleep.” He whispered.

“I’m trying.” You mumbled in exhaustion. You could hear the concern in your colleagues’ voice the next morning when they asked about your well-being.

“They’re not going to hurt you.” His fingers were drawing random patterns on your leg, “I won’t let them.”

The softness of his voice and the way his fingers gliding up against your leg had managed to lull you to sleep.

This happened every night and on the tenth night Dabi had spent with you, you discovered that the man would stay up late, ensuring your safety, before leaving just before your alarm rang for work.

You had discovered this when you had woken up one night wanting to drink a glass of water found Dabi still sitting on the edge of your bed, his hand holding your ankle securely. The gesture did things to you; things you couldn’t understand. Not wanting to disturb the rare moment of vulnerability, you willed yourself back to sleep.

Even after Dabi had killed the man who was after you, Dabi didn’t stop his services. He no longer protected you, however, he still called you whenever he needed you to help relieve some of his tension. And somewhere along the road, you started developing feelings towards him.

Your newfound attachments crept up to you slowly.

There was a period of time where Dabi didn’t call you; didn’t seek for you in the late hours of the night. And your messages asking about his well-being went unanswered.

Don’t ask, don’t talk.

You craved his rough touches.

His deep voice calling your name and whispering filthy things in your ear that you knew you should be ashamed instead of feeling turned on.

The way he’d grunt and moan, his fingers holding onto your hips so tightly that you’d often wake up the next day with bruises.

“Y/N? Y/N?” The sound of Dabi calling your name brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You cleared your throat and inwardly cursed the fact that you were fully awake and had no intentions of going back to sleep. “What were you saying?”

“Open the window, I’m outside.”

To say that you were surprised that Dabi was outside of your window was understatement. He didn’t like to be kept waiting so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Dabi was already outside waiting for you. You wouldn’t put past him if he had been outside your window the second he started calling you.

After ending the call, you unlocked your window to let Dabi in and returned to sit on the edge of your bed.

Dabi had sauntered his way in, standing the middle of your bedroom, as if he owned the place- as if he owned you.

It pained you to see Dabi in all of his glory.

After not seeing him for months and worrying about him all that time, he texted you after so long, only for his selfish desires. Your messages of asking about his whereabouts and if things were alright were left unanswered.

It killed you that he ignored you like that, kept you in the dark while he was gallivant somewhere doing God knows what, while you worried over him that even the other teachers had taken notice of the dark and deep circles appearing under your eyes.

Truly, it was unfair.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked with a sly smirk on his charred lips, “You’re normally so eager to see me.” And crept his way towards your bed and placed both of his scarred hands on either sides of your thighs, trapping you.

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against your neck and took a deep inhale, his eyes closing at your addicting scent. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong and we’ll see if daddy can fix it?”

You lifted your hands upwards and rested upon his shoulders and pushed him away in annoyance.

But Dabi didn’t budge as his hands still caged you securely. Removing one of his hands from your bed, he cupped your cheeks and roughly caressed your soft skin. He had a glint in his sapphire eyes which reminded you of just how dangerous he truly was.

Slowly, as if to not frighten his prey away, Dabi leaned in and roughly kissed you.

Despite the kiss being languid, it was sloppy. Drool dripped down your chin as Dabi’s hand trailed from your cheek to your neck and squeezed. Dabi took advantage of your gasp and shoved his tongue all the way in. The metal ball of his piercing felt cold against the roof of your mouth.

It didn’t take you long to give in and ease into the kiss, shoulders sagging in relaxation as his one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Dabi tilted his head and deepened the kiss in a certain way that made your eyes roll backwards in delight. It was an invitation for you to bury your fingers deep in his thick tuft of hair, roughly tugging at the dyed locks.

All too soon, Dabi broke the kiss and you almost whined at the loss until you felt his scarred lips attached themselves to your neck. His hand trailed up your neck then to your cheek and titled your chin upwards to have better access.

His kisses were fervent.

His tongue lapped at your neck and you shivered at the way his tongue piercing felt against your skin. The cold metal rapidly cooled your warm skin.

A broken moan fell from your lips as he bit your neck. Chuckling, he reattached his mouth to your neck and sucked with all of his might. Once he was satisfied, he darted his tongue and licked a long stripe upwards until his lips found yours again.

His tongue against yours.

His hand squeezing your neck.

The heat between your legs.

It was all too much for you to handle.

You’ve missed Dabi so much.

Missed the way he looked at you with mischief in his eyes before he would touch you. Missed the way he would grunt your name in your ear when he was close to coming undone. But most of all, you had missed how good Dabi made you feel. A soft whimper fell from your lips when you felt a single tear roll down your cheek and make its way into the kiss. A single tear turned to two. Then three. Until they became so many that you lost track of them.

The kiss turned bitter as you remembered the suffocating loneliness you had felt the past couple of months when Dabi had ignored you. How you would clutch onto your phone and stare at your screen, waiting for Dabi to text or call you. At how it was arduous for you to fall asleep, disquiet over Dabi’s well-being.

The hand on your neck trailed to the back of your head and gripped on the locks of hair on the nape of your neck and pulled your head backwards. “What’s this?” Dabi asked, breaking the kiss.

Your cheeks glistened with tears still falling.

Dabi was staring down at you in disappointment. You felt ashamed and turned your head to look away from those alluring blue eyes. But the hand on your chin prevented you from doing so.

“You really went and did it, didn’t you.” Dabi sighed in despondency, his fingers tapping your cheeks. “You really want to give me your little heart. That’s cute~”

He cupped your chin harshly and forced you to stare in his blue eyes that danced wildly just like his flames. “But it’s not something that I want.”

“What about what I want?” You whispered, ignoring the way Dabi’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.

Dabi said nothing and instead, leaned in and kissed your lips again in a harsh kiss. And you allowed him to take control. To have his way with you and do whatever pleased him. Because the look of disappointment he had displayed earlier was unbearable.

Dissatisfying Dabi was far more important than what you wanted- what you needed from the wanted criminal. The last thing you wanted was for him to end whatever it was going on between you.

So you let him ruin you, taint you and make you cry in pleasure and dejection. Your moans were desperate, begging and pleading for him; For his touches, his kisses and for his name to fall from his lips.

And when he was done with you, his needs fulfilled and his thirst quenched, he silently left through the window just as the sun began to peak its way through the horizon.

When you step into your office the next day, your colleague Aizawa was there to silently greet you with a warm cup of coffee as always. Whether he had noticed the puffiness of your eyes and the red tint at the corner from all those hours of crying, he said nothing and you didn’t care.

Aizawa quietly watched as you lifelessly stared down at your phone. It was a known fact that Aizawa was the least sociable person in school, if not the whole world. So, going out of his way to interact with people was out of the question. Though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy your small talk. Which is why he noticed the gradual shift in you.

The way you’d arrive in school with smiles and eyes twinkling brighter than the stars at night- How those stars slowly dimmed and died out one autumn evening, those orbs never leaving the phone in your hand. The way you’d tap on the screen to see if you had a new message or an incoming call.

It was difficult for him to not notice those dark circles under your eyes, darker and more prominent than his own. He wanted to reach out to you, to ask if you were alright but the emptiness in your eyes had him hesitating. He had never seen you so lifeless, so vulnerable. Just as he opened his mouth to ask you the question that was eating him alive- to know what had you so depressed, the first bell rang and he watched as you dragged yourself to your first class.

#dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabi x you #aizawa x reader #dabi scenario #bnha imagine

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hongism · 4 years ago

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mists of celeste ➻ 33.5

➻ pairing for this interim: seonghwa x hongjoong ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, fluff ➻ word count: 4.0k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act four ➻ part 8.5

“You need rest too, Seonghwa.”

Said lieutenant lets his eyes flutter open at the sound of the voice, and he shifts to glance back at the person who just entered the room. It’s Jongho rather than Yunho for once; the damn healer won’t quit popping in to chastise Seonghwa for his less than stellar sleeping habits, but the lieutenant could not care less to be frank. If it’s for his captain, he would do whatever it takes no matter the sacrifice.

“Did you just come back from visiting Yeosang?” Seonghwa inquires instead of addressing the issue at hand. He pulls back a bit from Hongjoong’s bedside, knees scraping hard on the floor in a way that should burn, but his legs have long since gone somewhat numb. It’s a pointless pursuit really because Jongho already saw him pressed so close to Hongjoong’s side with both hands clasped over one of his captain’s clammy and cold ones. Still, it offers at least a bit of peace of mind to turn away and look at someone who is both conscious and responsive.

“I did, yeah.”

“And? How is he today?”

Jongho sways his head from side to side for a moment. Seonghwa doesn’t need to be a genius to understand what that means, but it does help in deciphering the lingering emotion behind Jongho’s red eyes.

“That bad?”

“I wish I could say he was better today but… nightmares.” Jongho inhales sharply. Perhaps Seonghwa should be the one tending to Yeosang’s mental state, but there is a bit of hesitance there because he feels quite a bit of failure himself when he looks at the Elitist. Once upon a time, he had sworn on pain of death that he would take care of Wooyoung and help keep him safe. He failed beautifully at doing even that simple task. Just as he failed you in his promises to keep you safe. As well as the endless promises he gave to Hongjoong about protecting him from harm.

Maybe that is the one thing Seonghwa is doomed to fail at time and time again without cease.

Still, this burden is a lot to put on Jongho’s shoulders, especially as a Berserker and especially since he lost someone himself.

“And you? Are you having nightmares as well?”

“Bold of you to assume that I’m even sleeping,” Jongho quips in response without a drop of hesitation. It stabs a deep gash into Seonghwa’s heart, one the emanates off his shoulders in waves. No doubt Jongho can feel that pain, but he doesn’t let his features shift in the slightest. “But no, I’m not having nightmares. Mingi is… I trust him. I know what he’s capable of and how much he’s willing to fight not only for himself but also for the crew. He is stronger than he knows, and his protective instincts are stronger than the bloodthirsty ones. He will keep them safe, and he’ll keep himself safe in the process. I’ve been sleeping on the couch in Yeosang’s room to help when he wakes up from the nightmares. Hard to sleep when he can barely go ten minutes without having bad dreams.”

“Ah,” Seonghwa exhales, and he needs no further explanation than that.

It is something Jongho used to do for San as well: stay in the young man’s room not long after the mutiny happened because the trauma and horrifying memories that the event resurfaced for San were nearly too much to bear. Jongho stayed in there for several months just to keep the man sane through the night. Seonghwa has never been on the receiving end of Jongho’s comfort, but he has seen the impact of it. Allowing someone to come so close to your heart and trauma is a special thing already, but having someone feel everything you feel while going through those traumatic memories is far more intimate. Despite his all too keen ability to help the crew through moments of emotional turmoil, Jongho rarely remembers to look after himself as well. He still absorbs those negative and overwhelming feelings, but he conceals the pains that he is left with as not to worry anyone. Seonghwa has watched the boy grow up — he knows him well enough to pick the pieces of his cracked shell away and see what’s underneath.

“You ought to sleep here tonight.” It isn’t an offer or something to be considered. Seonghwa might phrase it as one, but the command is in his tone and on his lips. “I’ll sleep in Yeosang’s room in case he wakes up from nightmares.”

“Seonghwa—”

“It is not up for discussion, Jongho.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” the Berserker argues, leveling Seonghwa with a pointed glare. “I’ll ask Yunho to sleep in there tonight, if that’s what will make you feel better. But Hongjoong… Captain could wake up at any minute, and if your face isn’t the first he sees—”

“That’s enough, Jongho.” Seonghwa doesn’t quite like the implication behind that comment. There are too many emotions tied to it, too many past memories that should stay buried in that, and Seonghwa has to swallow to push the growing lump in his throat down. “That will work fine, as long as you give yourself a night off to actually rest.”

“We didn’t leave these empty cots in here for no reason,” Jongho tries again. “At least try to sleep some tonight, if nothing else. We need everyone at high alert for whatever is to come out of this shady ass Spectre and the recovery mission.”

“Okay… okay, I’ll rest too,” Seonghwa relents. Jongho has a point, but the Berserker has always been both quick with his wits and on his feet. Perhaps if Hongjoong doesn’t awaken then —

That thought comes out of the blue, intrudes on his mind, and leaves him choked. Seonghwa clasps a shaky hand over his mouth as a gasp slips out. There is no hiding the sudden wave of emotions that washes over him, not with Jongho in the room, and the Berserker rushes forward to meet Seonghwa on the floor. His knees hit the wood so roughly that it hurts Seonghwa’s ears.

The easiest thing to do would be to get rid of the weak link and ascend to power.

Seonghwa can’t help but slam the heel of his hand down roughly on his temple. It is enough to drive that maddening voice in his head away for now, although moderately concerning to the man kneeling across from him. These thoughts come too easily these days; without Hongjoong there to keep him grounded with constant reminders, Seonghwa finds his hold on the thin thread losing strength with each passing second. Maybe that’s why he can’t truly rest, because he is in the same boat as Yeosang in terms of nightmares.

“Seonghwa…” Jongho’s voice holds warning in it, but the older man pushes that concern to the side and fixes his gaze on the young Berserker.

“I’m okay.”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Yes, but I also know that there is nothing you can do for me, Jongho,” Seonghwa murmurs the words through a smile, and Jongho’s gaze turns almost melancholic.

“I could take it away,” he says, daring to look the lieutenant in the eye.

“Hongjoong gave you orders not to do that.”

“I’ve done it for San in the past. I… did it for Y/N once without her knowing too.”

“That was different, Jongho.” Seonghwa pushes a new resolution into his stare, hoping that it will be enough to dissuade the man. “The emotional and mental pain it would cause you is not something we need right now. Do not think to do it to me now, and certainly do not think to do it to Yeosang either.”

Jongho shakes his head a bit.

“Yeosang will be okay. I trust that. As awful as the nightmares are, it eases a bit to see Wooyoung even for a few seconds in his dreams. You on the other hand…”

Is he weak in Jongho’s eyes? Is that it? Seonghwa lets his gaze drop to the floor, then quickly pushes himself up to his full height. His legs are a bit wobbly at first thanks to how long he had been kneeling before Hongjoong’s cot, but he manages not to make a fool of himself and fall over on the spot.

“I’m perfectly okay, and I will be even better when Hongjoong wakes up. Now please go get some rest.” Jongho exhales a deep sigh but doesn’t fight the lieutenant’s words. Just as he is turning on his heel to leave the room though, a new thought flashes across Seonghwa’s mind, and he calls out after Jongho to stop him. “Also, Jongho — if you could please check in with Y/N, just to see how she is? I think… I think the combination of seeing a person from her past and the stress of the others being gone is weighing on her more than she claims.”

“Of course. I was going to head over there regardless.”

If the relief shows on Seonghwa’s features, Jongho decides not to comment on it and leaves without any further ado. Seonghwa doesn’t turn back to look at Hongjoong’s reclining body until the door snaps shut behind Jongho. The silence that returns is thick and palpable, almost choking the lieutenant with its strength. He weaves around the side of the empty cot beside Hongjoong’s and nudges it carefully forward until the bed lies directly beside where his captain lies. Yunho will surely make his rounds again later, but Seonghwa cannot find it in him to care, even if his actions are grossly pathetic and pitiful on many levels. He doesn’t want to think about how sad it must look to see the renowned Lieutenant of Death stooping so low as to lie beside his captain simply because he cannot handle this prolonged unconsciousness. He isn’t sure there has ever been a period of time like this before where Hongjoong was absent in such a way, not since before Seonghwa met him at least.

Seonghwa slips onto the cold and empty cot, tugging the blanket atop back so he can situate himself underneath, and once he’s fully reclined, he dares to let himself look over Hongjoong’s features.

Relaxed and calm for once. Too often does he see the man with brows knit together in concern and worry. This is a welcome change, even if it comes with having to see scratches and bruises on Hongjoong’s otherwise flawless visage.

Seonghwa twists onto his side and faces the man before stretching a hesitant hand out to comb Hongjoong’s unkempt hair down.

Get rid of the weak link.

There goes that nagging voice again. Seonghwa has to remind himself that it isn’t him necessarily; rather it is the result of amassing rumors and things people have made him out to be over the years.

Hongjoong is many things, but weak is not and could never be one of them.

People call Seonghwa the Lieutenant of Death for a reason, and sometimes he lets himself be consumed by their words and beliefs. According to Hongjoong, that is what caused that little voice to rise and gain power in Seonghwa’s mind. The lieutenant has found himself thinking about the initial conversation that happened well over a year ago more and more these past few days. It is that same memory that comes over him and lives in his dreams when his eyelids finally droop. Seonghwa falls asleep with his hand falling to rest over the steady rise and fall of Hongjoong’s chest, right over where his heart beats on and on beneath the confines of his body.

…

“Do you… do you ever get that voice in your head? The inhumane one who can only be cruel?” Seonghwa asks, tone shaky and unsteady as he presents the question to Hongjoong. The young captain stands across the room with hands trailing over his shelves in search of one book in particular, but Seonghwa’s question stops him in his tracks.

“Yes. Always. More often than not, I listen to it. Kim Hongjoong is not the Scourge of the Black Sea. They are two separate entities — one is merely a captain trying to do what he can for his crew. The other is a monster, cold and heartless who does not know the meaning of mercy or kindness. He kills for sport because it’s fun, easy, ruthless. It’s what he is good at. He works towards a revenge that can never be achieved.”

“That’s not true, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa insists through a slight sigh. He lets his weight fall onto the edge of Hongjoong’s desk, arms coming up to cross over his chest in a way that is meant to chastise his captain, but the other man barely spares him a glance.

“No, but it is what people believe me to be. And if I cave in to their desires and believe them for even a second, then that nasty voice in my head wins. I will be all those things and more. But most of all, I will lose everything I have worked towards all these years. I will lose all the care I have for this crew, the passion and determination I have for my goal, the sheer will to keep on living. The Scourge of the Black Sea has no need for anything of those things, but Kim Hongjoong does. I have to remind myself of that every single day to keep from losing my mind.”

“That’s all it takes?” Seonghwa’s tone holds a certain suspension of disbelief to it.

“Are you Park Seonghwa or are you my Lieutenant of Death?”

“I am yours. Whatever that entails.”

That catches Hongjoong a bit off-guard, and the man actually sputters and fumbles with his next words upon hearing Seonghwa’s quick-spoken statement. He recovers just as quickly though, not leaving any further cracks in his composure, and steps closer to where Seonghwa leans against the desk.

“Allow me to rephrase that question then.” Hongjoong keeps moving forward until there is minimal space left between their bodies, and Seonghwa tries not to be haughty in the way he has to look down to meet his captain’s gaze. “Are you merely what others make you out to be? Or is the Seonghwa who stands in front of me now more than that? More than a bloodthirsty and heartless grunt who cannot think for himself. A failed soldier who is only good at following orders. Someone so cruel that even death itself would turn his back in shame because of the destruction you leave in your wake. Is that the Seonghwa I know?”

“Never,” Seonghwa whispers into the space between them. Hongjoong squints a little and presses ever closer. The elder of the two can feel the other’s breath panting hard against his own lips, and the sensation sends chills down his spine and leaves goosebumps to trail over his arms.

“Never,” Hongjoong echoes through a small smile. “Because my Park Seonghwa is one who is kind and compassionate. A person who loves without fail or error, forgives with too much ease, cares for others more than he cares for himself. Cherishes the loyal and spurns the betrayers. Looks for the good in others yet is quickest to judge himself in times of distress. My Park Seonghwa gives… and gives without even thinking to stop something for himself, and should he ever do what is necessary for his own good, he calls it selfish desire. So no, you are not my Lieutenant of Death. And as long as you remember that, remember why you are not and can never be that entity — that monster who resides deep in your heart and soul — that voice will never win. It will never take over. You will never be what they make you out to be.”

“I cannot remember that without you, Joong,” Seonghwa murmurs. Perhaps he lets too much emotion slip into his tone or he is overstepping his boundaries in their little hierarchy. Hongjoong doesn’t chastise him or ridicule him for the words, though.

“And luckily for you, we spend nearly every minute together. I will — I’ll remind you of it however often you need me to.” Hongjoong draws his lower lip between his teeth and chews at the skin a few times. “I trust you to remind me that I am more than my failures, as you have done so every day since the mutiny.”

The mutiny. They don’t discuss that event. It is too raw, too emotional, too sensitive for Hongjoong. How long has it been now? Three months? Two? Most definitely two, maybe less. It isn’t that Seonghwa doesn’t understand why it is a touchy subject — he merely learned early on not to grow too attached to people in his life. He supposes he is making a mockery of that lesson as he looks deep into Hongjoong’s dark eyes and regards the man with so much care and affection.

Hongjoong begins to drop his chin, but Seonghwa is quicker, hands stretching out to cup the man’s face just under his jaw. He isn’t sure why exactly he does that; something comes over him and causes him to reach out. Hongjoong blinks back at him with wide eyes. The lights in the room reflect off those dark orbs and make Seonghwa see stars in them.

Seonghwa doesn’t realize that his jaw is hanging open until his mouth goes dry, and he chokes on a parched throat as he tries to swallow around nothing. Hongjoong pushes the flat of his hand to Seonghwa’s chest. For a moment, the older man thinks he is trying to push him away and he starts to withdraw his hands, but the Hongjoong pushes ever closer until his knees push between Seonghwa’s.

“You were the first to trust me. The first to join me. The only one who didn’t look down on me. You didn’t treat me like a slave, didn’t amount me to being a former slave, nor did you judge me when you learned of my true class. You, Park Seonghwa, who had nothing in life but a will to live, gave me everything. I may not be able to give you the same in return, but I don’t take that sacrifice lightly.” Seonghwa’s jaw stutters as he tries to come up with the right words to say. All his mind can do is repeat ‘I’m not him, I never will be, I cannot be what he was, I cannot replace him’.

“I’m not Jin,” he says without thinking, and that causes Hongjoong to draw back all of a sudden. Seonghwa’s hands slip away from his face. He draws back so much that the space between their bodies is suddenly infinite, and Seonghwa regrets speaking so fucking much that the sensation nearly cripples him. “Hongjoong, that’s not — I didn’t mean—”

“Perhaps I have done something wrong along the way if you truly believe that is all I would amount you to,” Hongjoong bites out, cutting off the apology on Seonghwa’s lips. “I do not think you to be a replacement of any kind. Yes, Jin and I had a special relationship, we were close, I trusted him. But you, Seonghwa, you have always been more. I told you that when I asked you to be my Lieutenant. You asked why I chose you over him and maybe it is just as simple as the fact that I trust you.”

Hongjoong heaves a deep breath and shifts to blink at the ceiling. Seonghwa gnaws on the inside of his cheek with shame burning his neck and face. When Hongjoong speaks again, he draws closer to Seonghwa once more, this time with more haste and force. He grips Seonghwa’s chin harshly between his fingers, squeezing the skin so hard that it stings a bit. Seonghwa doesn’t dare to move under the captain’s touch though; he lets Hongjoong yank him down to be eye level and stares back without blinking.

“You are treasure, Seonghwa. You have always been a treasure to me, since long before I ever learned that you’re a Siren. Before you, I had nothing to live for or protect except a desperate need for revenge.” Hongjoong’s eyes glisten now. Seonghwa can’t recall even a single instance where he saw the man cry, not even in the aftermath of the mutiny, and that shatters his resolve more than anything else. “I came to want to protect you. And as the crew grew, you taught me to care for them as well, to protect them and cherish them. Jin never taught me that, you did. My Park Seonghwa, my lieutenant, my treasure.”

Seonghwa can’t help himself. He brushes the pads of his fingers over Hongjoong’s cheek as though to merely confirm that the man is real and standing before him. Before he can blink, Hongjoong twists his neck and presses a soft kiss to those lingering fingers. Seonghwa finds himself stunned into a frozen state. The man before him keeps kissing along the length of his fingers, his free hand pulling up to interlock their fingers when he reaches the bend of Seonghwa’s wrist. It is certainly not their first kiss — they shared many fumbling and awkward and meaningless attempts at kisses in their early years along with several small drunken pecks that were given merely as comfort and nothing more. They never had much emotion tied to them, not any romantic ones in the very least. Some went just like this, some were ghosting touches on the head or nose or cheek or even on the lips, few and far between but they certainly added up over the years.

Hongjoong pulls Seonghwa down the rest of the way. When their lips collide, the taste is salty and wet on Seonghwa’s tongue, but he doesn’t stop to think about that. Instead, he throws his arms about Hongjoong’s waist and pulls him to his chest as though to kiss the tears away just like this. Seonghwa hates to say that this one feels different because it could just be something meant to comfort each other now. It could only be different because Hongjoong cries against him now, hands dropping to fumble and grasp at Seonghwa’s shoulders and back as he tries to lessen the already minimal space between their bodies.

They have to pull apart because Hongjoong sobs into Seonghwa’s mouth, and the latter detaches their lips so they can catch their breath. Rather than hiding his face, Hongjoong blinks furiously against the tears and stares Seonghwa directly in the eye without shame or insecurity.

“You once swore to stay by my side for eternity. I never answered you then but I will now, and I won’t ask you to stay or demand that you do that. Whether I live or die, however this journey ends, whether we succeed or fail, I will do it with you no matter what. We do this together or not at all. Whatever together means — should it be as simple as you being on the crew and not caring for me in the slightest, or with you at my side like this.”

God, that hurts so much. It burns Seonghwa’s chest and leaves him with a deep gash that festers and boils over. He can’t bring himself to say anything in response. He knows his own tears are ready to spill down the balls of his cheeks, so rather than making them fall faster by trying to speak, he merely tugs Hongjoong back to him and seals their lips together once more.

✧✧✧ a/n: hi :3 surprise :3 guess who :3 seongjoong time :3 insight time :3 hints and bread crumb trail throughout :3 im playing but fr there are hints there are insights there are emotions and lots of serious talk and i’ve been wanting to write another piece on seongjoong for the longest time so i’m glad this idea came to me and i am even MORE glad that it turned out the way it did! fr this hiatus has been too good to me, i’ve never been more proud of my work than i am now!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @okokokok123-45 @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @vampire-jimin @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @felixity @rawrrainn @hewwo-from-the-other-side @icekdy

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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coltsbitch · 4 years ago

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spectrum ~ armin arlert x reader

armin arlert x reader; 3.2k words; fluff; soulmate au summary: he lights up your world, too bad you don’t realize until it’s too late.

masterlist

It truly is one of the most tragic realities of the world. Some say it’s that you don’t know who that person is until you lose them, others say that it’s losing your person and the vividness of the world in one swoop.

But if this person truly is your soulmate, wouldn’t the world be dull and grey without them anyway? Maybe that’s your sense confirming what your heart already knows.

You used to pester your parents with questions about this phenomenon.

“So how are you supposed to know they’re your soulmate.”

Your parents smiled at each other, “Well peanut, you’ll just have to let your heart guide you.”

“But what if you choose the wrong person? And don’t realize it until they die?”

“Then let yourself love freely and fully.”

You didn’t appreciate their roundabout answers, but with time you realized it’s because they didn’t have the answers. No one did. No one knows why all the color drains from your eyes as your soulmate’s life drains simultaneously. Only that it happens.

You often wonder which of your parents lost their color first as they were devoured by titans. Or if they even lost their color at all. Maybe there was some sad soul out there that blinked one day and suddenly saw in greys not knowing their soulmate was being eaten in a small southern town of Wall Maria, as their child watched.

You think that’s the worst fate. Not knowing who that soulmate was, just that they’re gone. At least if your beloved dies and you can’t see the green grass or blue sky, you’re comforted knowing you were each other’s greatest loves.

But why are you thinking about this at a time like now? As your knee deep in pig shit on the new queen’s farm?

“Sasha! The scraps are for the animals!”

Oh right. He’s why.

You glance up as Armin is trying to pull Sasha away from the bucket of table scraps meant for the pigs.

Armin had come into your life in the most unexpected way. Being that he knocked into you mid air during an ODM gear training. His momentum had caused you to lose your grip and fall, luckily landing on a tree branch instead of the ground twenty meters below.

He was able to readjust himself and land feet first on the branch, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t look which way I was going!”

You ignored his babbling apology, more concerned with trying to regain your breathing while clutching your leg that had taken the brunt of the impact. Rolling to onto your stomach you tried to rise to you knees, but the weight was too much, and you fell back down.

“Arlert! ___!” You both looked down to see Shadis below, “You’ll make a delicious snack if you keep this up! Now move!” He screamed, not even bothering to hear your replies before kicking his horse into a trot.

You blush now thinking about the way you brushed off Armin’s offer to help but instead pushed forward through the pain, lip bleeding by the time you laned from how hard you bit into it and leg throbbing from the movement.

Armin was able to find you later that evening in the infirmary, which you weren’t sure how he even knew you’d be there. None of your friends overlapped, and you were sure you didn’t stick out to anyone, so it’s not like someone would notice your absence from supper.

None the less Armin brought you a serving of the disgusting food that was passed of as a meal for the night, with an apology on his lips.

You expected it to be a one time thing, guilty for the mishap in training that day. But he stuck around. Finding you on free afternoons, asking you to partner up in trainings, small waves during mealtimes.

Your friends would tease you about him, comparing him to a lost puppy. You didn’t think much of it until his friends started with the comments. You would overhear your name being tossed around, glances your way, and Armin’s always face flushing a deep red.

But he never said anything to you, never acted differently than he always has. You chock it up to friendly teasing, probably what they do to each other all the time. But that doesn’t stop you from reading into his comments and touches deeper. Doesn’t stop you from imagining kisses and touches you could be sharing if he ever gave you such indication.

It goes on like this for the final years of training and all throughout your time in the Scouts together. You don’t mind though, it’s more than enough to be by his side as he tells you about his dreams and he listens to yours.

Maybe this is what your parents meant by love freely and fully.

“You should say something.”

You jump out of your skin and whip around to see Historia standing behind you, “What?”

Her eyes glance to where yours were recently transfixed, “Before it’s too late.” You shift uncomfortably, averting your eyes. You know about the morning Historia woke up to a world of gray. Everyone does, her cries were loudly heard throughout the farm.

“It’s not like that.” You answer.

“It doesn’t have to be to make it any less real.”

You glance back at Armin who has given up on controlling Sasha. He must feel your eyes because he looks up, smiling when he sees you’re looking.

Your heart flutters. How could it not?

But you don’t say anything. There’s too much happening. You can see how the stress is bearing down on his shoulders and under his eyes. He’s dragged into meeting after meeting with Commander Erwin and Captain Levi. Squad leader Hange picks his brain every free moment he has. He’s comforting Eren who’s still struggling to comprehend everything that’s happened.

So when you’re able to grab a minute alone with him after the sun has long gone down, you’re not going to add on to his problems with your feelings. The fact that he seeks you out at the end of the night to decompress is more than enough.

When this all over you tell yourself. You promise yourself. You’re going to tell him how you want to travel the world with him. You want to be by his side when he sees the sights he’s only read about. Wherever he goes, you’ll follow.

But now you’re wondering if either of you will ever see those sights. It all seems pretty hopeless.

There’s seven of you. No clue what’s happening on the other side of the wall, but it doesn’t sound good if the ricochet of loud bangs is anything to go by. But Armin comes through with a plan to stop Bertholdt, something you’re sure only he could think up.

But you should have known better when he pauses on the rooftop. The rest have already left to go after Reiner, where you should be joining them. But one last glance over your shoulder and you see Armin is already staring at you like he’s trying to drink in every detail about you.

“Armin?” You ask, wondering if he’s calculating something new, if he’s realized a flaw.

He looks like he has something to say. That look he gets before he’s about to dive into a long tangent, but he shakes his head of whatever that might be.

“I believe in you.” He says instead, before turning and jumping off the roof.

He doesn’t look back. You’re still standing watching him go. He’s too focused to look back, you think. But he knows he can’t bear to see your face again; it might break his resolve.

You find the others, and it’s a flurry of explosions and debris flying everywhere. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you and Jean divert Reiner’s attention. He flings part of a building at all of you, dust catching in your eyes even as you block it with your arm.

There’s a dizziness you feel when you see only one thunder spear lodged into his jaw. Your heart falls into your stomach. Part of you is saying there’s still hope, Mikasa can still make it, but there’s an overwhelming grief filling you for some reason.

You crash into a house, your leg taking the brunt of the impact. And suddenly your mind flashes back to when Armin knocked into you all those years ago. Why are you thinking of this now?

You look up to the colossal titan. It’s exhausting so much steam you can barely see the wall, let alone Eren or Armin. There’s a bang behind you and you turn to see Reiner exploding out of his titan. And then there’s an even louder sound and you watch as Bertholdt’s titan crashes into the wall.

We’ve done it, you think.

You have no fucking clue how it was all pulled off, but it’s happened.

Rising to your feet you jump down to where Hange is pressing their foot into Reiner’s chest, and they begin to hack off his limbs. You can’t watch, and turn your head to see Jean and Mikasa. Both are exhausted, but there’s a sense of relief in their eyes.

There’s still so much dust, and your eyes settle on Mikasa’s scarf. It looks like it’s covered in ash with how black it is. Jean too, he looks pale, too pale.

Your heart stutters.

You whip around to Hange again. The vibrant green of their cloak is dull and muted.

You choke on a gasp.

You look up at the sky. It doesn’t hold the vibrant blue from before. You had even noted how the sky was too clear and beautiful for what felt like such a somber day.

“I can’t, I can’t see.” You whisper. Your eyes are moving from place to place, trying to find a glimpse of color, but it’s all fading, and fast.

Mikasa is in front of you now, calling your name, but you don’t hear her. Can’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

I can’t see.

I can’t see color.

“Armin!” You gasp, eyes meeting Mikasa, and her expression falls as fast as she hears his name leave you lips. She’s always been so perceptive. She knows instantly.

For what will be the only time in your life, you’re faster than her. Sprinting before catapulting yourself into the air and above the roof tops.

You can hear her calling behind, probably following behind, but you can’t stop, can’t slow down. Because there’s still a slight shine to the sky. It reminds you of his eyes.

You see the steam emitting from the decaying colossal titan and you know that’s where he is. Even if there hadn’t been that marker, it’s like your heart knows anyway.

You crash and roll onto the roof. There are more people than you expected there to be, but your eyes lock onto what you know is him.

You want to vomit. You almost do as the stench of burning flesh reach you. But you don’t.

Is it your eyes? Or is this how burnt his skin is?

Falling to your knees, you ignore the commotion behind you. Levi kicking a screaming Eren, Mikasa tackling Levi.

“Armin.” You whisper.

Your hands shake above him, unsure where too touch, if you even should. There’s a labored breathing coming from his body. You know that’s why this world still has the smallest ounce of color to it.

“Armin.” Tears are running down your cheeks. Did he know? Did he plan this? He hesitated earlier, like he wanted to say something. Did he know?

You never considered this as an outcome. Losing your color, losing your soulmate. You’re didn’t think there could be something worse than losing an unknown soulmate. You knew him. But he wasn’t yours. It’s the could of that hurts more.

You could have said something.

You could have been something.

You gently place a hand to his cheek. It’s so hot, too hot for a body. But if this is the only chance you have to cup his face the way you dreamed about, then so be it.

“I wish we could have figured it out sooner.” You whisper, “I think part of me always knew.” You wobble on your knees. “Did you know?”

Eren and Mikasa are desperate and can’t see what’s in front of their own eyes. But you know it’s impossible for your eyes to play a trick on you like this.

You sob, tears falling onto his face, immediately steaming away.

You want to lean down, to press your lips against his. You don’t care. You can ignore the smell. You can close your eyes. You can pretend that you’re kissing him at the sea he never shut up about. That was your plan in your daydreams.

The Scouts would retake the wall. They would clear out all the titans. And the second you’re truly outside the walls, seeing the sights he would wax on and on about, you would lean up and kiss him, tell him how your stomach flutters when he looks at you, how his words fill your heart.

But this would have to do.

And you would have, but instead your ripped away from his body.

“Stop!” You cry, fighting the person holding you, “We still have time!” You look up and see Jean is holding you against his chest, shooting a cable to the next building.

You wouldn’t even call the sky blue anymore. There’s not a drop of color you can see anywhere, but in your heart you know you had a few more seconds.

“Please!”

But it’s no use. You turn again to get one last glimpse of him alive while you can.

If only you had more time.

“We can still save him! He can eat me!” Eren is thrashing against the scout you don’t recognize, “There has to be enough left!”

You glance at everyone standing on the roof. No one is talking but Eren as he tries to persuade anyone who will listen. And then suddenly your heart is seized in a tight grip and you know he’s gone.

“Eren.” You mumble, “Shut up.” He looks at you with raw pain and anger in his eyes, but when he sees the tears tracks on your face, the sorrow in your eyes, it’s like he understands too.

Like everyone could see it so simply. Everyone but you.

You collapse, unable to stand any longer. It hurts unlike anything you’ve ever felt, can’t comprehend what you’re feeling.

The crackle of lightening fills your ear. What would colorless lightning look like? But you don’t want to see this. You don’t want to watch Bertholdt eaten. You wish this doesn’t have to happen, that none of this had ever happened.

There’s a collective gasp.

“Look.” You hear Jean say behind you. You follow his words, seeing the newly formed titan collapsing to the ground. But something is off about it, the hair too long and body too malnourished to be Erwin you think.

Cables shoot out and you see Levi flying towards Hanji, somebody thrown over his shoulder. But that doesn’t make sense. It’s not Armin, so it must be Erwin. But if that’s Erwin…

Mikasa and Eren are already flying to the ground.

You trip over yourself trying to follow, almost out of gas, leaving you to slide against the pavement when you tumble. You hear the others behind you, but your eyes are stuck on the person Eren is pulling out.

Everyone is crowding around, but you’re glued in your spot before his titan form. The color slowly seeps back into your world.

His golden hair returns first, blowing from the steam. His skin shining with sweat under the sun. You watch as each of you comrades fill with color, the world slowly returning to how you once knew it.

“Armin.”

It’s hours later by the time you can get a moment alone with him while he’s conscious. His nervous energy has him walking along the wall, you volunteered to go with, in case anything happens. But you’re not too concerned, early today you saw him burnt to a crisp and now he’s here beside you like nothing’s changed.

Like you didn’t have your whole world turned upside down and back again.

Armin sighs taking a seat on the edge of the wall. He’s looking out towards the destruction in Wall Maria. “It doesn’t seem like anyone else made it.”

You take a seat beside him, “No.”

“But I’m still here.” He mumbles to himself, “I still don’t understand why Captain made this choice.”

“Please.” You choke out.

Armin’s head shoots up from staring at the ground fifty meters below, surprised by the anguish in your voice.

“Please don’t think that this was the wrong choice.” You grab his hand, “That you being here is wrong.” Your eyes meet his, “Because I don’t think I could survive that.”

Armin is stunned by the conviction of your words, how absolute they must be to you. “___, you’d be okay. You’re stronger than you think.”

“Armin.” You’re exasperated, how does he still not understand? “When you were dying on that roof top,” He flinches at your bluntness, “I felt like I was drowning, and nothing could pull me out. Fuck, I mean my whole world was drowned out in darkness.”

A gasp escapes his mouth, “You don’t mean?”

You feel tears gathering in your eyes, “Please don’t ever make me feel that again.”

Armin searches your eyes, finally understanding. He doesn’t know how to answer, it’s impossible to answer, “I’ll try?”

You laugh at the awkwardness in his voice, and it lightens the thickness between you two.

“I feel like part of me has always known, at least hoped.” You continue shyly, “I promised myself I would tell you after we retook the wall.” You avert your eyes, “I’m just glad I still have the chance.”

“I umm, always wanted to say something. But I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, I know for sure now.” You give a small smile, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah.” Armin says breathlessly, “I guess you do.” His brow furrows a bit, an intense thought probably crossing his mind, “You think there’s any research out there about soulmates and near death experiences?”

You have to hold back a scoff at his always inquisitive mind. This is what he’s thinking about right now? “Armin?’ His focus returns to you, “Can I kiss you?”

Armin’s eyes widen to saucers, which is the most expressive reaction you’ve gotten from him yet. Is he that surprised? You just explained you were soulmates for fuck’s sake.

His mouth is open and closing as he tries to form a response, instead settling a brief nod.

You cup his cheek, softer than before, the perfect feel in your palm, and lean in pressing you lips to his. It’s a sweet kiss, sitting atop Wall Maria overlooking the vast land you both nearly died to reclaim. His hand is gripping yours tightly and you thread your fingers into his soft hair.

Armin pulls away, a faint blush staining his cheeks but eyes shining, “I’m so glad I decided to knock you out of the trees that day.”

You laugh at the memory that maybe in a roundabout way brought you here. And then his words click, “Wait, you did that on purpose?!”

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert #armin #armin x reader #armin arlert fluff #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader

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corie-the-writer · 3 years ago

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Won’t Let Go - Chapter 7

Chapter 8 Jay had spent most of his day digging up whatever information he could on Noah. He had found out that his father was apart of a crime family out of Miami, and had a lot of money to buy people off so he and his son could not get prison time. Noah had been considered the right hand man of his father's organization. The detective had tried calling his girlfriend a number of times after finding out the information, remembering that Noah had text her asking to meet about her art. He was growing extremely frustrated at the fact his calls had went unanswered. By the time he had gotten off work, Jay knew that Sophia had to work that evening so he had decided to head to Molly's in hopes of talking to the dark haired woman. Pulling his truck up in front of Molly's, Jay saw the car in front of him, noticing the familiar license plate number. He had gotten out of his truck and headed straight into the bar to speak to his girlfriend. Walking into building, Jay instantly saw the bar filled with patrons, and then glanced behind the bar to find Sophia in the middle of making a drink. He watched as she delivered the drink to Otis a few moments later and then moved to speak to someone. As Jay walked closer, his eyes narrowed for a moment seeing Sophia talking to none other than Noah. Jay approached, moving to stand at the bar to try to get the attention of his girlfriend and noticed that she was laughing at something Noah was telling her. It made his blood begin to boil. "Soph..." Stella Kidd saw the look on Jay Halstead's face and went to her friend to let her know that her boyfriend was there and didn't look too happy, "Jay is here." Stella added, gesturing her head to where the man was standing. Sophia had looked towards Jay, noticing his jaw set and excused herself from speaking to Noah. She had quite a busy day with her mother, baking a couple of different dishes and deserts for the firehouse and had forgotten her phone in her apartment. "Hey..." Sophia smiled to him. "We need to talk." Jay stated through clenched teeth. Sophia furrowed her eyebrows and then moved to tell Stella that she would be right back. Sophia moved down the bar to let herself out and walked up to Jay. He had gently grabbed her hand and led her outside. "What's going on?" Sophia questioned as Jay ushered her to his truck and opened the door for her to get in, and then watched as he moved in front of the truck to the drivers side and climbed in. "Did you meet with Noah today?" Jay questioned bluntly. "What?" Sophia questioned dumbfounded. "Did you meet with Noah today?" Jay questioned again, "I was awake when he sent a text to your phone this morning." "No." Sophia shook her head, "So you're reading my texts now?" Sophia questioned, "Is that why you were in a mood this morning?" Sophia added. "I wasn't purposely reading your text Sophia." Jay stated, "It was a little hard to not be concerned when your phone was going off at six in the morning." Jay added, "Do you know what he does for a living?" Jay questioned. Sophia was staring at him absolutely confused on why he was mentioning any of this, "You didn't answer your phone." Jay finished. "That's because I was with my mother, and I had forgotten my phone at the apartment." Sophia growled, "If you are done being a jerk, I have to get back to work." Sophia did not want to fight with Jay at all, but she definitely did not want to be questioned about her where abouts just because Noah had shown up. "Sophia." Jay growled in frustration at himself, "I ran a background check on Noah." Sophia looked to him with narrowed eyes, "His father is a mob boss out of Miami, Noah is his father's right hand man. Did you know that?" "Jesus Christ Jay." Sophia shook her head reaching for the door handle, "My relationship with Noah is in the past. Any information you've decided to voluntarily dig up does not concern me." Sophia stated, "I told you that the moment I figured out he was into shady things, I ended it. Thank you for showing me that you do not trust me." Sophia opened the truck door, not giving Jay time to comprehend her slamming the truck door shut and storming back into the bar. Sophia was absolutely livid with her boyfriend for several reasons. The first one being that he obviously did not trust her, and second, for digging around into her ex's past because he was jealous. "You okay?" Stella questioned to Sophia as she stormed behind the bar going back to her job. "Don't want to talk about it." Sophia grumbled, grabbing the tray in order to go around and collect empty beer cans. Sophia had been so mad that she didn't even realize Jay had walked back into the bar and was starting to approach her, or Noah walking towards her to check on her, knowing that she was upset. "Are you okay?" Noah questioned down to her, Sophia looked up to him and then noticed Jay burning a hole into her as he continued to approach. "I'm fine." Sophia answered to Noah as she turned to clear off the table and glanced to her boyfriend to see a woman approaching him, reaching out for his arm causing her to furrow her eyebrows. Sophia watched as the woman hugged Jay, Jay stiffening and not hugging back. The dark haired woman sat the tray down when she saw Jay removing the woman's arms from around him and pushed her back a little. Sophia found herself moving towards her boyfriend with Noah following. "Jay, who is this?" Sophia questioned. Jay turned to look at his girlfriend, her cheeks rosy from being mad and he knew that he looked as pale as a ghost, and before he could answer, the woman spoke up. "I'm Amy, his wife." Sophia swore that the air from her lungs escaped and she had took a step back bumping into Noah's chest, his hands coming out to stop her from falling backwards. "Your...your wife?" Sophia stumbled over her words. "I can explain..." Jay immediately reached for Sophia but she shook her head moving away from his touch as if he would burn her. Jay could see Sophia's heart visibly breaking right before him, and his heart fell into his stomach the moment she turned to Noah asking him to take her out of the building, "Soph...baby..." Jay tried to plead and watched as she ignored him, allowing Noah to put a large hand on her back and usher her out of Mollys.

#jay halstead #detective jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead one shot

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brawltogethernow · 4 years ago

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I suppose the next step then is "BBC Merlin but it's SpideyTorch"

Oh my god. TEACHER, TEACHER, SHE’S TARGETING ME okay okay uh.

Peter, secret warlock, goes to Camelot with his mother figure, May, who does not know about the warlock thing because it kicked in when he was a teenager and they both strategically decline to tell each other things. Gaius is Reed, who was the court sorcerer and is now the court scientist. (He’s not an old man except spiritually where he has been a senile professor since he was 19.) He literally didn’t change anything he was doing, considering science and magic as different points on one spectrum anyway-- No. That’s Doom’s schtick. DOOM was the court sorcerer, and was fired. He is upset about it. Reed is just a science guy but worked extensively with Victor, so he’s kind of useful, but not as useful as Peter was hoping.

I know very little about Sue and Johnny’s dad except that he’s a supervillain who...faked his death, revealed himself, and then died for real like 12 hours later? Did he also fake his wife’s death at some point? Would he do a mad king magic ban thing? Idk but for plot purposes we’ll say yes. They conveniently already share Arthur’s dead mom syndrome. Maybe their aunt whose name is different depending on what issue you’re reading is also here just to convolute the court drama. Wait no didn’t Arthur have a shady uncle show up after like five seasons. She.

Peter is very talented at finicky, specific magical formulas. (Reed: :) )But in practice he really prefers to just slam out a big wave of power, and if that doesn’t solve the problem, repeat until it does. (Reed: :( ) He gives this a go at the beginning of sorting out any problem, like restarting your glitching computer, and if it doesn’t work the problem is complicated enough to be an episode plot.

So obviously I’m still gonna do secret identity shit? Peter saves the young prince and heir’s life and is rewarded with a second job; he only came here for job reasons and you’re all lucky he doesn’t turn down paying jobs otherwise he’d be having some words with the king. Peter also accidentally becomes a masked vigilante out in the town. His very existence is illegal because he’s obviously doing magic! They keep sending his boss out to hunt him down, and their eyes are always locking dramatically and shit in brief silent stare-offs from opposite ends of the street in thunder storms at sunset until Johnny’s horse rears and breaks the eye contact causing Peter to snap out of it and flee. You know how it is.

Sue is older than Johnny and thus older than the magic ban, so she responded to it by going “:) That’s nice, Dad” and socking away a bunch of books before they could go on the fire, and now she’s just a sorceress on the dl. This is approx. a first season finale reveal, because her real superpower is being able to keep her mouth the hell shut. I literally cannot with how nobody in Merlin ever exchanges information, so shortly after Peter and Reed learn this they exchange secrets, like sane people, which opens up their resources a bit.

That said Sue is an extra legitimate royal, not the Morgana equivalent. Maybe Gwen should be Gwen, especially since I have thought Gwen/Johnny/Peter has potential since reading Spider-Man/Fantastic Four (which if you read an earlier ask, I recommend if you want to see new art of Gwen being mean in hair clips). But Peter/Gwen and Merlin/Freya are like...same energy except the latter wasn’t as well done. And Merlin’s Guinevere honestly more reminds me of Betty. Morgana--

(wheeze)

(cough)

Okay I thought this trying to reconcile as much of the cast as possible and I now can’t unthink it so. The king’s ward is Dorrie Evans. Yes she goes nebulously sapphic evil witch queen. Sure she was an unpleasant teenager and readers hate her, but you know what, I’ll simp, whatever. Let Dorrie poison some people. In a cape. This feels natural to me. Also Betty Brant and Dorrie Evans???? Betty/Dorrie vibes???? I guess!!!!

So like. The thing where Arthur gets mystically whammied by love potions once a month, except also Johnny’s normal relationship-anticipating giddiness happening organically mixed in, the part before he actually starts dating someone and becomes immediately depressed. Peter is in the bg sarcastically dismissing magical incidents saying he can’t even tell the difference, and Reed is like 😬 Please Check Anyway. Peter’s not, haha, Peter’s not jealous, Johnny is just an idiot, and, okay maybe Peter is a little jealous! But it doesn’t matter because the prince is going to marry some noble and--

Reed: Prince Johnathan is a bit like a little brother to me, so Please Stop Telling Me About Your Problems.

Reed/Sue is reciprocated but on permanent hold for class reasons. Spideytorch is in the same boat except they’re also stupid and working it out by dating their way through the whole country, except Peter is actually into that and Johnny is not.

The dragon is...Ezekiel?????? That’s the right level of wise wry mentor who’s very shady and will kill you, so he’s a dragon now. And when he tells Peter he’s the (other) chosen one, Peter full stop doesn’t believe him. This disbelief goes on extensively. Peter is not a fate-oriented person. Johnny would love to hear about the fate thing, but no one will tell him.

Literally I’m just going to add more chronologically unmoored medievalish shit to Merlin now to cram more of the cast in. There’s some kind of town crier/herald outfit, and Jonah is their boss. He’s just out in the road yelling sometimes even though he can delegate that. The buglers otherwise known as Bugle staff named Peter’s vigilante persona the Spider, which was supposed to sound menacing but is in practice also cool. This is out-of-universe fairly equivalent to Merlin’s real name as a neat two-syllable animal word and possible title. In-universe maybe I’d elbow out Emrys and just use this. Merlin is already very servants-don’t-work-like-that, so Betty just also has two jobs for no reason so she can knock elbows with them.

MJ is the court jester and knows absolutely everything, which is a dramatic mid-game reveal that isn’t exactly foreshadowed so much as always possible while carefully obscured from the viewer (the reader). Before this she’s already a Wise Fool, Shakespeare-ways archetype character, it’s just not clear how much. She is the most important character in Homestuck Merlin Spider.

Every ship is real for at least 30 seconds. Most of the extended FF cast are either magical antagonists or weird nobles.

Ben????? (Grimm, I mean. Ben Parker is dead. Ben Reilly is a recurring episodic plot.) This show was painfully formulaic and would simply not keep someone with any version of his deal in the main cast, but he’s a full quarter of the FF so. A magical accident approximated his rock body deal. Maybe specifically tying him to ~the magic of the land~. And then, uh. Wandering the country is too satellite-like. Hiding out in a forbidden castle wing is interesting but doesn’t do him justice. So I guess it’s a come and go semivoluntary transformation thing that’s kept secret? Rock werewolf. Were-rock. Good opportunity to fake out like you’re going to do a monster of the week plot, and then he contributes to the tension to abolish the magic ban.

Knights?? Wyatt is there from the beginning, being tall and reassuring (holding a sword edition). Not sure how him or his immediate ancestors got to Europe and then ended up this involved with the local nobility, but it was probably exciting. And Flash, or he’s an early addition. Either way he’s from the same village as Peter and is approximately White’s Kay, except directed at the wizard instead of the future king, and otherwise you can completely superimpose their comic dynamic including the fanboying over the secret identity angle, which is entertainingly seditious. ...Others. I don’t know enough FF characters for this. I’ve accidentally implied the eventual addition of Bennet Brant, but his evil sorcerer of the week energy is very strong, so maybe not. Randy eventually because I already implied the Robertsons and can see it.

This is so long, covers nothing, and explains none of the namechecks. Using both these characters’ franchises in one fusion is too much stuff. I keep not talking about the core relationship because it’s just. Like That. I don’t feel like I need to elaborate on the Merthur dynamic, even transposed on a different ship. It’s Just Like That.

#merlin #spiderman #fantastic four #spideytorch #bbc merlin #spidey #ff #marvel #phoenixyfriend #asks answered

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago

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Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

Dissociate.

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit.

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing...

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

Why not, why not?

You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that"

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

_______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs.

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

...No

You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

It was him...

Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

"I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak.

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

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polluxdespell · 4 years ago

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TALE OF TWO POES

These are just my headcanons for my 87/Comic Poe and my 2017 Poe. I’m trying to write this before the new ep comes because I wanna see how close my headcanons are to the real one. Ahhhhh.

So for my 87/Comic universe starts out with these basic things.

-Him and Magica are twins.

-Actually a pretty nice and chill guy

-Can’t actually use magic but really, really wants to. He has a wealth of knowledge when it comes to magical items and spells, he just can’t use or summon any magic himself. He learns how to work around this problem, though. Very cleverly. He even fooled Eldritch Academy for years. Ha.

-Has been a raven for 10+ years which has affected his social skills a tad.

-Would do anything for his sister. ;-; Weh.

-Really not villainy like Magica has a redemption arch and he helps her with that (and sometimes his help wasn’t that helpful by accident,) but he himself is just chilling?

Really not as villainous as Magica; has a redemption arch, and helps her become a better person. Sometimes his advice/help doesn’t do much, but it’s the thought that counts.

-For being chill, he sure likes poking his nose in things and being a little troublemaker. Magica can tell Poe, “Hey, make sure Gladstone doesn’t do this thing,” and then when Gladstone does that very thing, Poe is half heartedly just “No. Don’t. Stop.” like that Willy Wonka meme.

-Poe has a lot of “kid at heart” energy, while Magica is the more serious, adultier-adult one.

- I hint that he is trans. Comments like about him and his sister’s different personalities like “Hard to believe we’re from the same egg.” and “That old dress of mine looks better on you.” But not out right saying it. Wouldn’t it be just his luck when he was turned into a crow he was turned into a male crow and when he was changed back he just happened to be changed back male and was like, “This is all going according to plan.” Though out of all the villains I can see Merlock being a misgendering prick. Calling Poe She-lock and He-Witch. What an asshole.

-Gladstone and Poe had become good friends even before Poe is reverted back to his original duck form.

-Poe is Minima’s dad, but there is some drama regarding the entire thing I hope to cover in a story I’m writing. (I’m really close to finishing that one.)

-I accidentally shipped him with Fethry in this universe lol. I’ve written bits and pieces of several Magicstone stories where Fethry and Poe form a friendship on the side that turns into a romantic relationship. In my future stories one of the main problems with Gladstone x Magica is their lack of communication. They don’t let the other know what they’re going through to ‘protect’ their partner. Meanwhile, I have Poe x Fethry at the same time as them having great communication and just the comparison of that against Magicstone like, look how many less problems Magica and Gladstone would have if they JUST TALKED.

-Poe and Fethry are also both oversharers so like, this is gonna be great.

-I’m really really biased with my 87/Comic Poe and Magica headcanons in that they can totally get redeemed. In my headcanon they were raised by their older half-sister till she was killed by hunters when Poe and Magica were thirteen. From that point on they raised themselves. Poe was very supportive of whatever Magica felt she had to do. Yeah the dark magic thing got a little shady but it's fine, its fineeeee.

-I know Poe wasn’t in the comics but I just hmm pretend he’s there with Ratface. In the cartoon Magica mentioned once she needed Scrooge’s number one dime for the spell to turn Poe back. So that is true along with having to do the Midas spell for the Grand Coven she answers to in the comics.

-He makes friends with Grandma Duck super fast like omg his weak ass noodle arms will figure out how to get some farm chores down for her. GUS YOU NEED TO DO MORE WORK AROUND HERE WHAT THE HELL GUS.

- I never outright say how Poe got changed into a crow but it's something Magica feels is her fault. I’ve debated it being actually the Grand Coven Magica answers to that did it, because he offered to take a punishment for her. Something done in some way Magica feels it's her fault. ;-;

- Since this Poe can’t cast magic he does use magical items to protect himself. His hat does have a magical property I’m not gonna say cuz I needa finish that store. IT'S GONNA BE GREAT.

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Now 2017 Poe I headcanon much differently. First big change is he has magic and he’s an asshat. I really think if 87 Poe had magic he would have been more of a jerk too, but not to the extreme 2017 Poe is. I based 2017 Poe being more villainous like how Magica is more villainous. I love 2017 Magica, she is still a fun baddie, but I don’t have the same hmmm- soft spot for her as I do for comic Magica.

Also, in my headcanon he has a flare for the dramatic. I realized he’d seem a bit like Black Arts Beagle. I then decided Poe was the one that trained BAB because why not. Same performative flare. Whee.

I originally headcanon him to be more chaotic Deadpool personality type but seeing Martin Freeman is gonna voice him I bet that's not gonna happen. SOB. God he’s so pretty though. That midriff showing.

-Just trash man

-Love me that goth trash man

-I would really want him not to be a jerk to Lena. That would cause a divide between him and Magica. He would see her technically as family even though created by magic, and not treat her like crap. And be mad Magica treated her crap.

-Minima was his daughter who died a long time ago. He sees a lot of Lena in her, but realizes Lena is not her. I mean he knows that from the start but would still be sad if they’re in an argument and he calls her Minima on accident. “I won’t always be there to protect you Minima! I- I mean Lena..” SOB.

-I really didn’t see the same reasons to ship him with Fethry this time around too, but when I saw Steekbeak x Fethry stuff it got me thinking of what Poe went in disguised as a normal dude to do some McDuck spying and met Fethry and they fell for eachother but then OOPS POE is a VILLIAN. OOPS. Just like the Matilda thing with Magica x Gladstone in the comics. TeeHee.

-No redemption arch just nice to a handful of people ha. Might MIGHT help good guys if the world was gonna be destroyed but oh boy would he have to be talked into it. (Lena could talk him into it.)

#magica de spell #magicstone #poe de spell #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #ducktales 1987 #fethry duck #poethry #fethry x poe

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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Hello, everyone! Can you believe this is the third time I've started the recap for this chapter? Between a dying computer and a mass edit during my monthly state of, "Oh my god get rid of everything we can't let people know that we wRITE!" this project is cursed. This is the version though, I can feel it. Be positive!

Now, where were we? It's been some months (RIP) since I last posted, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone's forgotten what's going on in this insane novel. A quick recap before the recap then: new teams have formed, no one is happy about it, Sun and Velvet went off to a shady club run by The Crown and — shock shock, surprise surprise — got themselves into a heap of trouble. That's the long and the short of it. We have to wait a while to find out what happens to them though because this chapter is focused on Coco.

We learn that Professor Rumpole has sent Coco and her new team — Team ROSC — out into the desert to take care of the grimm around the city's borders. To say that Coco is disappointed in this assignment is an understatement. We learn that they've been at this for a week straight and have gone without showering or a change of clothes that entire time (no one packed a bag?), so for a second I was hugely sympathetic. You know this vine?

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I feel this vine in my soul. Give me hot water and hot coco or give me death. Besides, work is work and dangerous, physical work without a break or basic comforts is incredibly taxing. Toss in the extreme heat of a desert and I'd be pissed at everything too, no matter how important my work was. That's human.

Yet instead of humanizing Coco like this, it turns out she doesn't care at all about the hardship involved. It's fighting grimm that she's annoyed by. She thinks that "Searching for the person or persons kidnapping innocent people for some unknown but dark purpose was way more useful than fighting Grimm far from the city" and I'm just like, Coco, honey...

Do you know what your career path is?

IT'S TO KILL GRIMM.

Okay, there's admittedly a justification here, but it's a stupid one. Coco goes on to say that "This area was called the Wastelands for a reason." She's snarky about it, saying that it wastes “her time, her talent, and her patience," but the real takeaway is that it's, you know, a wasteland. Deserted of grimm and of people. What's the point of defending an area that doesn't need defending? A huntress' job might normally be to fight grimm, but when those grimm aren't around and kidnappers are, that's a whole new set of priorities.

The problem with all this is that the Wastelands is definitely not deserted and it's definitely not as far from the city as Coco would like to imply. In just a few paragraphs an alarm is going to trip and Coco will find six grimm roaming in a pack. Then she finds a person. Then that person says she needs to get back to see someone in the city within half an hour. So there are grimm, there are people about, and this area is apparently close enough to the border that you can get back to the city proper, on foot, and then get wherever it is you’re going in a bustling metropolis... all within half an hour. By that logic these grimm aren't out in the boonies, they're right outside everyone's door.

Yet Coco isn't convinced, saying that "Post Beacon [killing grimm] had been for a noble cause, but this just felt like … busywork." I cannot possibly emphasize enough that this is the job she signed up for. Not to be a detective specializing in missing people, not a war hero always on the front lines of a battle, but one of many huntsmen who perform the daily, routine, very necessary task of protecting the people from grimm. With "protecting" covering both immediate threats and preparatory work that ensures more threats don't come about — like taking care of grimm outside before they become a larger threat. You know what would have happened if Beacon had a daily chore of students killing grimm within a few miles radius of the school? There would have been far less grimm charging a mass of unprotected students when negativity unexpectedly skyrocketed.

And, as always, I am aware that Rumpole is the likely villain here. From a writing perspective, this is very much presented as her getting Coco out of the way so that she can go about her nefarious deeds in peace... but that doesn't erase the fact that the task itself is a sound one. Rumpole's motivations don't matter here, only Coco's annoyance that she... has to do her job?

I mean yeah, everyone complains about their job to one extent or another, but can you imagine if you stumbled across a firefighter complaining about all the kitchen fires they've had to put out lately? "It's so boring! There are much better things I could be spending my time and talent on. I mean, that inferno that took out a city block last year? Putting that out was noble. But routine fires? House fires? Giving lectures on how to prevent fires in the future? Ugh, I can't believe the department expects me to do this grunt work." Meanwhile, you're sneaking off, hoping that this firefighter is never called to your house, nursing mild worries about how much they're romanticizing the recent tragedy that took so many lives...

Complaints about the job turn into complaints about the teams, which makes far more sense for Coco's character. Anyone's, really. Despite my insistence that it's a good thing they're learning to fight with people other than their three besties, that was absolutely a sudden and rather traumatizing change, just given how attached the teams already are. I'm not at all surprised that Coco is struggling to cope.

She says she misses her friends, obviously, but also "surprisingly, Coco missed being in charge."

...That's supposed to be surprising? Coco, you love being in charge! How is this in any way a revelation?

Apparently it is though, stemming from how bad Reese is as their leader. As with so many things in RWBY, I find myself disagreeing with a perspective that's presented as a fact: "She liked to lead by group vote, which wasn’t leading at all." Yes... it is? We could go down a rabbit hole of literal definitions — to lead is to direct, to direct is to regulate, to regulate is to direct again — but ultimately our understanding of a word does not adhere to the dictionary alone. It's a knowledge built on experience and I would hope that everyone's experience with the term "leader" includes that person considering multiple perspectives before making a decision. A leader doesn't impose their view on a group without due consideration of their preferences and needs — that's a dictator — a leader guides the group based on feedback and their personal knowledge. If that feedback and knowledge results in a standstill, or if their knowledge outweighs preferences, they are the deciding vote because the people have previously said, "We trust your decisions" through the act of making them leader in the first place.

Asking for a group vote isn't avoiding leadership, it's an act of leadership. Reese decided that these situations warranted a majority rule. She further decided that whatever they settled on was indeed an appropriate course of action. Leadership skills are required to assess a situation and determine whether it's appropriate to vote on in the first place. If I announce to a group that we're voting on whether we go to the movies or the museum, I've done the work to determine that both of these choices are of roughly equal value and roughly equal availability. I haven't hit on any snags like, "The only movies playing are mindless blockbusters and I want this to be an educational outing" or "The museum is too far away. We'll never make it to dinner on time." Figuring out that a group can vote is its own kind of work. This avenue is particularly useful when the group is of roughly equal standing. With a few exceptions (like Ruby and Jaune) huntsmen classmates are all the same age, underwent the same training, and have had the same combat experiences. This isn't a case of one elite huntsmen lending their knowledge to an otherwise green party, it's a school randomly pointing at a somewhat outgoing individual during orientation and saying, "You. You're leader material, I guess, even though you've done little differently than the person standing beside you." Someone has to lead and Vacuo's switcheroo proves that anyone can be the leader if they're just put in that position. Coco claims a group vote is just "passing the responsibility off to your team" and yes! You want to share the responsibility because you are a team. They are a group of four equals working together with one person to guide them, they are not a boss with three subordinates. Why wouldn't Reese utilize the skills and ideas of those teammates? When making a decision, why wouldn't she see if everyone believes it's a good idea to do Thing A as opposed to Thing B? Unless Reese is outright ignoring her own ideas, beliefs, or gut feelings to cater to the others — which there's no reference of — this is good leadership. She's assisting her team in making decisions as a whole, rather than arbitrarily imposing her view on three others of similar skill and experience.

Yet Coco acts like because Reese doesn't go, "We're doing Thing A! End of discussion!" it's not leadership. Which, frankly, says a lot about how the RWBY-verse sees leadership as a whole.

I realize I'm rambling a great deal, so let me quickly provide a different media example. I'm currently immersed in Star Trek: Voyager and in season two, episode 14 "Alliances," Captain Janeway is faced with a difficult choice: align herself with a violent and so far untrustworthy species, or risk traveling through this quadrant of space without any allies. At first she's entirely against the idea of an alliance, going so far as to say that this isn't a democracy. She's the captain, dammit, she makes the decisions! But her first officer begs her to reconsider. Then the crew express disappointment — even disgust — that she won't consider this alternative. Then her chief of security, being a Vulcan, provides a persuasively logical argument for why an alliance is worth the risk... Long story short, Janeway finds herself in the minority and changes her decision accordingly. She attempts to garner an alliance and the fact that she was right — the species wasn't trustworthy and the alliance fails — is entirely beside the point. She realized that the majority voice matters. As far as we know, Reese is already practicing what Janeway learned.

ANYWAY the point is none of it matters because these characterizations are a mess. Coco also throws out that Reese "dressed like she was a twelve-year-old hanging out at the mall" and supposedly acts like one too. We're not given any examples of what that behavior looks like and, sorry, but I'm not personally inclined to judge someone based on their fashion sense. It would be great if this story actually engaged with some of the flaws the characters demonstrated, rather than just throwing them out to exist in this unacknowledged void.

Not that Coco's fashion-focused personality is really that important. Truly, the best thing about all this is how contradictory Coco's own thoughts are. She also listens to her teammates... except when she doesn't. She know when to go with their ideas and when to dismiss them for her own... except when she gets it totally wrong. As with so much in RWBY, this doesn't feel like the author giving Coco deliberate flaws that the story will grapple with down the line, it just comes across as a nonsense philosophy about leadership we're not meant to examine too closely. Coco gets to make references to the fact that her own, supposedly superior leadership is filled with holes, but heaven forbid she engage with that.

She ends all this with the thought that no matter what she might decide, she trusted her team to "do what she demanded of them” and is now extending that courtesy to Reese. This I'm inclined to praise Coco for. No matter what she might be thinking, it doesn't appear as if she's tried to undermine Reese (well, not yet. More on that at the chapter’s end), and she doesn’t appear to be refusing to listen to that leadership, even if she doesn't like how it comes about. As we're about to see, Coco has her team's best interests at heart, no matter the challenges they're facing.

Her thoughts turn back to her old team and we get... this.

Velvet was with a team that didn’t recognize her awesome capabilities. Fox was withdrawing, having lost his family for the second time. Yatsuhashi was going mad with worry about Velvet and his teammates, knowing that he couldn’t be there to protect them, and worrying he would accidentally hurt someone on his new team.

This is so unnecessarily dramatic. First, how does Coco even know any of this? Because it's been heavily implied that the old teams are barely in contact with one another. See: Velvet refusing to loop anyone in about the club and Coco stuck in the desert for a week. Second, why aren't they in contact, at least those who aren't on away missions? The entire group is acting as if changing teams means they're no longer allowed to be friends — family, as Coco puts it — when the relationship between Team RWBY and Team JNPR creates the opposite expectation right at the start of the series. Clearly, people from different teams can be close. Yatsu's worry that he might stumble using his semblance with new people is the only conflict that holds up here. Everything else has fairly straightforward solutions. Velvet needs to prove herself to new people. Yatsu needs to text Velvet if he's that worried about her. And Fox "having lost his family for a second time" is a pretty ridiculous exaggeration. You're attending the same school! Your family is still living down the hall if Vacuo has dorms like Beacon! In what world are these students unable to interact largely as they did before? They're acting as if the school has outright barred them from hanging out, rather than doing what will no doubt occur the moment they graduate: force them to work with different people. Just catch up with Fox over dinner!

Honestly, this chapter is pretty short, I'm just continually bewildered by this story.

To get back to the actual plot, something trips a sensor the group has set up and Coco responds to the situation in what I think is both a smart and empathetic manner. Previous experience has taught her that it's likely just a lizard, so she doesn't want to wake up her team for no reason. Disagreements aside, she cares enough to let them rest — "They’d probably appreciate the extra sleep." However, if it's a "rare case of something she couldn’t handle alone" she'd immediately call for help. Great plan! It's not often in this novel that I feel like I enjoy the characters, but this little moment actually had me liking Coco. Which, yes, I realize is a complicated claim. Characters should test the reader to a certain degree, mirroring all the personalities we see in real life, including biased, mean, or contradictory people. It's often a good thing to write a character that your reader is frustrated with. That can be the point! The problem with Myers' writing is that it isn't the point. Coco, as the former leader of our heroes in this tale, should be someone we enjoy spending time with and her flaws should be the basis for growth, or an acknowledgement that she is an imperfect, but well-rounded person. As it stands, flaws in this novel just sort of... exist? They bop around in the RWBY universe with almost no acknowledgement from the narrative or other characters, leaving the reader with little to nothing to take away from the text. Is Coco correct in her judgement? Is this a bias she needs to work on? Is she putting on a facade and her natural instinct to care for her team is the real Coco hidden underneath? Who knows! She’s just frustrating to read about most of the time and nothing comes of that.

Regardless, she heads out into the desert, using the night vision glasses Velvet made her.

Now see, this would have been the perfect thing to introduce before Velvet was fixing relay towers after the expert was injured. Remember how I said the novel didn't do enough to establish Velvet's own expertise? Not that a pair of goggles is really comparable to fixing a communications issue, but it still would have gone some way towards convincing me that Velvet is this super impressive tech gal, capable of handling any and all situations that might come her way.

But no, we get this impressive display of skill after Velvet's knowledge was needed in a pinch.

The glasses help Coco navigate the terrain, allowing her to both see in the dark and zoom in on things in the distance. This allows her to spot the six jackalopes that tripped the sensor, as well as the woman currently fighting them: Carmine, a villain from After the Fall that I know nothing about. Ah well. Note though what I said at the start, that Coco's dismissal of this assignment is based entirely in its supposed uselessness. Yet now here we have a pack of dangerous grimm and an enemy to content with.

Also, this is where Coco moves from kindly teammate to overconfident fool. She said she'd call for backup if she needed it... and she clearly needs it! From what I can gather, all of Team CFVY lost to Carmine last time they met up. But now she wants to risk fighting Carmine alone? Go get the others!

She doesn't, of course. Carmine doesn't notice Coco at first. She's talking about how she has to get back into the city. "He’s going to kill me if I’m not back to the Mirage in thirty."

As said, this also implies that Coco isn't nearly as far out as she initially suggested. If Carmine can feasibly finish this fight, cross the desert, navigate who knows how much of the city, and meet up with the mysterious "he" all in under half an hour, then Coco is patrolling pretty much right at the walls. AKA, the area that absolutely needs to be grimm free.

Luckily for those of us who are reading the books out of order, Myers gives a quick recap of Carmine's significance. Last book she had kidnapped Gus and "held off the combined might of Team CFVY in the desert” (oh hey, I was right), presumably escaping afterwards. Now here she is again, likely up to some new, nefarious deed.

Our of curiosity, I googled to see what she looks like and...

WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT?

Coco watches as she works to keep on top of the six grimm, debating whether she should help or walk away, but when Carmine is taken unawares, Coco acts without thinking, throwing herself into the fray.

Sometimes decisions were like that—your body already knew what to do while your brain was still processing the situation. Only in this case, Coco’s body wasn’t necessarily the clearest judge of character. Her brain would have said that Carmine didn’t deserve her help.

Now see, this is a scene I can get behind. The entire RWBY-verse is based around a type of superheroism: people with unnatural abilities, fantasy weapons, and extensive training devote themselves to protecting the people from various threats. Yet too often RWBY fails to convince me that these people are actually heroic, taking the standard flaws of a character and unknowingly exacerbating them to the point where I think, "Is this meant to be a commentary on the anti-hero? Or a critical look at these fantasy formulas? Because we've got the elements of that here, but no indication that the authors realize they're writing something other than that standard story." But this? This works for me. Coco, as a huntress, is so conditioned to help others that her body responds instinctively to someone being in danger, regardless of who that someone is. She outright admits that if she'd had the chance to think about it she would have decided against helping Carmine. The fact that she recognizes this and move anyway says a lot of good about her. Well done, Coco!

We see later that Carmine probably didn't need the help, but between the two of them the grimm really don't stand a chance. What's interesting though is how chummy the two are while defending themselves. Coco comments on Carmine's tendency to talk to grimm (like she does) and Carmine freely offers information about her movements, the fact that she lost her other sword, and that her partner, Bertilak, needs to "recharge a little" before getting back in the game. Carmine asks Coco if she'd like to team up with her instead (she does not) and the two have a number of flirty exchanges to top things off:

“I’ve been dreaming of a rematch with you,” Coco said.

“You’ve been dreaming about me? I’m flattered.” Carmine winked.

***

“Hot date with the Crown?” Coco asked.

“Don’t be jealous, darling.”

I bring all this up not as a criticism of the buddy-enemy dynamic (it's a favorite of mine), but simply because of something that happens next. Before we get to that though, I admit that I am on the fence about the flirting. Given that I haven't read After the Fall (assuming this characterization exists there), I know that Coco is a lesbian mostly via RWBY cultural osmosis, rather than through the text. This is one of the few (the only?) times that I've gotten a hint at her sexuality, yet it's associated with predatory behavior. Carmine, her enemy, is the one who turns an angry dream into a flattering one, the hot date with the bad guy into something to be jealous of. I'm honestly struggling to remember what, if anything, Coco has had to say about women in this book — this is what comes of such slow recapping and I acknowledge that this is entirely my fault — but I'm nevertheless discomforted by knowing Coco's canonical status, knowing RWBY's struggles with queer rep, and then reading a scene where the most overt representation thus far is the bad guy twisting Coco's words into something sexual.

I'm no purist. Give me a good enemies-to-lovers fic any day of the week, but that doesn't mean that kind of dynamic is the best to pull from in a franchise already facing heavy criticism for its queer rep.

Especially since the moment the grimm are gone Carmine turns her sai on Coco.

This is the "something that happens next" that I referenced above. It's weird to have them attacking one another after a whole scene of pretty genuine companionship. Coco doesn't help Carmine as a consequence of defending herself, she willingly gets involved. They tease one another. Carmine appears to answer her questions honestly. There's both implied and overt references to how well they work as a team. Then, suddenly, Carmine is outright trying to kill Coco, not just with her sai but by burying her alive. It's not the sort of banter that Ruby and Roman used to engage in, trading fake compliments and, in Roman's case before his death, legitimate feelings while attacking one another. Nor is Coco prepared for an attack the moment the grimm are gone, and she's not surprised by it. It’s just this sudden change that feels rather jarring.

Though it's far from the first time BTD has failed to convey the emotion of a scene. Here's another example rnow. As said, Carmine is attempting to bury Coco alive by moving the sand with her semblance. That's horrifying enough on its own, but remember that Coco is claustrophobic. Yet none of that panic shines through here. She comes across as indifferent throughout the attack, thinking back to summers when her brother tried to bury her while she sunbathed, amazed that she could ever consider this fun. You know who Coco sounds like in this scene?

At no point during this attack did I get the sense that Coco believes she’s in serious danger, let alone that she's struggling against a long-term phobia. The only time I even remembered that claustrophobia is meant to be a challenge for her is when she throws out the oh-so casual line, "One of her worst nightmares was being buried alive." Oh really? Because it doesn't seem like it! Coco is calm enough to remember that she used to be able to hold her breath for exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds. That doesn't feel like a character fighting against her worst nightmare.

So this scene isn't exactly compelling. Which is too bad because, as said, Coco as some other nice moments in this chapter.

However, during all this we do learn a little more about Carmine. Prior to getting trapped in the sand, Coco comments on how shockingly strong she is. "Carmine should have been at least a little bit worn down from fighting Grimm," but she's not, "She seemed nearly unstoppable now." Coco hits her full in the face, but she doesn't seem fazed. Earlier in the chapter there was that comment about how she previously took on Team CFVY alone and at the end of the battle Coco observes that Carmine "still seemed as fresh as she had at the beginning of the fight. How was she even doing that?" My basic reading comprehension skills tell me that this is setup for something, likely some change enacted by the Crown. Surely the text wouldn't put so much emphasis on Carmine's strength — have Coco questioning it to this extent, framing it as unnatural — unless we were going to get an answer, right?

But this is RWBY, so I'm not inclined to count my chickens before they hatch.

The rest of Coco's team arrives and it's then that she decides to pull the super dangerous stunt to free herself. Yeah, yeah, I get that she's suffocating and needs to do something now, can't wait to be dug out I suppose, but the timing is pretty ridiculous. The cavalry has arrived, yay! Time to blow myself up.

Seriously. She blows herself up. Using her own semblance, Coco focuses on one of her gravity dust bullets and detonates it, causing all the others in her arsenal to detonate too. It gets her out of the hole and "knocked her Aura down to a dangerously low level."

So... let’s see. Coco can literally detonate a bunch of explosives on her person, after suffocating under stand, after fighting Carmine, after fighting grimm, after a week long mission, and her aura doesn't break... but Yang's does from a single Neo slash?

Okay, RWBY.

Reese and Olive try to attack Carmine together, but end up eliminating one another's attacks. I like that a team actually has some realistic difficulties for once. Coco, however, is internally an asshole, calling them "idiots" and saying that they need to learn to coordinate their attacks. Thing is, she apparently hasn't done anything over the last week to help with that. She's been too busy complaining about Reese's clothes.

Carmine runs off as more grimm show up, drawn by Coco's non-existent panic. To her credit she does thank the others for saving her... but then immediately tries to downplay that. “It wasn’t a fair fight,” Coco spat when Reese (correctly) points out that she's the one who was ambushed. She also starts giving orders and when Reese (again, correctly!) goes to point out that she's the leader, Coco talks over her, saying they can't waste any more time out here because she has reason to believe that Shade has been compromised. She needs them only because she's out of bullets and low on aura, but they definitely need her because "let’s face it, I’m the best strategist around for miles."

Coco's a strategist?

And why does she sound like a villain trying to convince the heroes to work with her? She’s already part of the team!

Putting all that aside for the moment, we're back to this prideful characterization. I liked the well-rounded Coco from a few pages ago who balanced caring for her team with the likelihood of needing backup. Now she's flinching from the idea that she'd ever need help (hello, Sun characterization too) and snatching Reese's role the moment she's given the chance. So much for respecting her position. If the book wants me to believe that Reese is unfit to be leader and this is a golden opportunity for Coco to right a wrong... how about we actually show Reese being a bad leader?

Regardless, yay working together? The chapter ends with them presumably taking out the grimm before heading back to Shade, along with an important revelation. Prior to leaving, Carmine asked Coco why Yatsuhashi and Fox weren't rushing to her aid. It's only now that Coco realizes she didn't mention Velvet. Why? Perhaps because Carmine already knows where Velvet is, which obviously doesn't imply anything good.

And that's the end of Chapter Ten! Can you tell I never know how to finish these recaps? Describing cliffhangers doesn't have quite the same punch as, you know, actual cliffhangers. You all just have to suffer through my mediocre endings with me.

But would you look at that! Turns out the third attempt at writing this was the charm! :D

See you for Chapter Eleven! 💜

#rwby #BTD #Before the Dawn #BTD Recaps #mymetas

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

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Shut Him Up ~ R.C.

A/n: Listen give me ANY excuse to write Randall and I will

Request: “...Hamish duke or Randall x human male reader we’re one of the Wolfe’s get hurt and the reader is like the care taker of the group and he’s rambling because the guy he likes got hurt and ( which ever wolf you choose because I love them both) to shut him up kisses him because he’s also crushing on the reader and the rest of them are like “ so that’s how you shut him up”...”

Word Count: 1700+

MASTERLIST

"You idiot!" Hamish groaned, his shoulders sagging. "Now Y/n is going to be all over our asses when we get back. You realize that right?"

"Not if you don't tell him," Randall shot back immediately. He hissed at the pain in his shoulder. "It's fine. I'll be completely healed in a few seconds then we can get it cleaned and if no one says anything when we get back, Y/n won't- AH!" He screamed, his hand shooting out to hold his shoulder and his eyes widening. When he pulled his hand away again, it was covered in just as much blood as before.

The group was silent for a long time. But the bleeding didn't stop and when Randall swayed, Jack jumped in to put Randall's good arm around Jack's shoulders. "Let's get him to Y/n. He's not healing, and Y/n has been studying since all that stuff with Hamish went down." Lilith groaned, but it was light. Even Y/n's wrath was less important than making sure Randall didn't die.

The entire trek back to the Den was spent with everyone trying to come up with what to say to Y/n that would get him to freak out the least. But then, halfway there, Randall's knees gave in and Jack had to pick him up completely. Even between the three of them it was becoming more and more obvious that there was absolutely nothing anyone could come up with that would satiate Y/n's worry at seeing Randall pale, bleeding, nearly unconscious and not healing. And that was absolutely fact for two simple reasons.

One: Y/n was like the group mom. He made sure they were all eating and getting sleep and that they put aside time needed to study and shower and wash clothes and do their normal responsibilities like work and Randall's RA stuff in between all the hunting and killing and dealing with a bunch of magicians who seemed hell bent on destroying the world at the drop of a hat or the smallest inconvenience. He had spent so much time taking care of the pack that it was practically ingrained into his DNA to care about all of them. So even hearing about them getting hurt usually set off a rant from Y/n about taking care of themselves and how they needed to be more careful - ESPECIALLY since the whole knife incident with Hamish.

Two: Y/n was in love with Randall. He had only gotten involved in this whole drama, despite being human, because he had flirted with Randall time and time again, but Randall wasn't down for anything serious because Y/n was human and had enough to worry about without supernatural shit bothering him. Y/n was hyper aware of Randall though and as things got really weird and shady, Y/n went poking around. Now they were all here, and better off for it.

Lilith opened the door and called out for Y/n, who came scrambling into the room at the panic in Lilith's voice. He froze when he saw Randall, his eyes widening and his face draining of color. "What the fuck happened?" He demanded rather harshly, looking at the other wolves as if accusing them. He always got like this when it came to Randall. He was always worried about them, but there was a new level reached when Randall got hurt that made him all the more intolerable.

They all loved him of course but things were going to go wrong - why didn't he get that?

"I don't know," Hamish offered, feeling a little guilty. Of all the group, he probably understood Y/n the most. Jack and Alyssa were often at odds and it messed with their relationship. Y/n and Randall... Well, despite all the idiocy on Randall's part, they reminded Hamish a lot of how he and Cassidy used to be. "I'm sorry he just got- there was this witch, and she had a whip-"

"On the couch," Y/n ordered. Hamish obeyed, laying Randall on the couch. Immediately his blood started soaking into the sofa. Jack sucked in a breath. "Tell me what happened Hamish. I need to know so I can figure out how to treat it."

Hamish ran a hand through his hair. "Uh- well, the whip. It only barely scratched the rest of us, but it was about to take Alyssa out. And she's kind of cool sometimes so we were trying to make sure we didn't die and we heal a lot faster than she does so I guess he thought it would be fine. But... it got him really really bad and then it didn't heal. Halfway here his legs gave out. I don't know if he's going into shock or it's the blood loss or... poisoning? I don't know?"

Y/n had taken the time that Hamish talked, looking at the flesh around the cut. He went into full doctor mode, not allowing his emotions to cloud his judgement. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the room and the other three wolves were left to watch Randall begin to bleed out. It was becoming clear that whatever it was, it was moving fast, and Randall... he was about to die.

A hush of horror fell across the room as they all genuinely thought their friend was about to die right in front of them while they were helpless to do anything. Then like some kind of angel sent straight from heaven, Y/n swooped in with a bowl full of blue-purple liquid. He stood over Randall and poured it into the cut, making sure the whole cut was filled and covered in the liquid in the bowl. They all stood with baited breath, worried that Y/n had gotten it wrong or, worse, they were just too late.

Then Randall began healing.

"You're amazing Y/n," Jack sighed, shaking his head as he grinned.

Y/n wasn't amused though. The relief that had wiped all minds of the talking to Y/n had planned faded away as a stern man whose eyes were full of anger turned to the three wolves. "You fucking idiots. Just so you know, wolf's bane. The bitch with the whip coated it in wolf's bane. You're lucky that I noticed the way it look on his skin or he'd have died from magical poisoning. Which means she KNEW she was dealing with wolves." He held out the bowl he was holding, which still was half full of the liquid. "Make sure to get each and every cut you guys have. They might be small, but they'll suck away your strength slowly and never heal until you treat them. If you miss any-"

"What's all that talking about?" Randall groaned. The group looked over to see him sitting up, looking around. "What?"

"You idiot!" Y/n whacked Randall's shoulder, causing the newly awakened wolf to complain out loud about how it hurt. He didn't give the boy the time of day though. "I was just saying that your cut you dismissed? It was done by wolf's bane. I'll make more antidote if needed, so don't feel shy to use it up. If the cuts don't go away completely, put some more on. Symptoms include exhaustion, feeling like your body is really heavy, zoning out, and can get worse and lead to struggling to move or talk." He whipped around to glare at Randall. "Now, you." He reached over, dipping his fingers into the liquid. "Where did you get cut?" Randall took off his shirt, showing his scraped up back and arms. He was far, far more marked up than the others, which is probably why he had such a severe reaction. Y/n began to apply the liquid to all his wounds, but the action didn't stop him from going off. "You know who would have been absolutely unaffected by this shit? Alyssa," he began. He'd already been going on so long that the others in the room were tired. "She would have gotten a little cut and it would have been fine-"

"Y/n please," Randall sighed. "You tell me the same thing every time. I get it, you don't want us to get hurt-"

Y/n shot to his feet. "You came back DYING, Randall!"

"And you fixed me!" Randall shouted back, standing as well. "I'm fine! That's the thing about teamwork. None of us alone are good - we have to stick together!"

"And what if you're attacked when I'm in class across campus, or across the country back at my parents' house? What happens then Randall?" Y/n demanded, getting in Randall's face.

Randall scoffed. "Well you wouldn't do that unless it was for summer vacation, and we already all agreed to stay nearby since everything is hitting the fan."

It was Y/n's turn to scoff. "You know I gave up a lot of shit so I could be here to keep your ass alive?"

"I didn't ask you to do that!" Randall shot at Y/n.

"You didn't have to!" Y/n threw back. They both went quiet, breathing hard as they looked at each other. "Goddamnit Randall, you didn't have to." He closed his eyes, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "But you know what? Jack's been learning lots from me, and even more from the Order. He's read the books. If I'm really so annoying then please, let me just see myself out I wouldn't want to-"

Randall suddenly snapped, rushing forward. He grabbed Y/n's face, crashing their lips together. The room was dead silent, even after the two parted. "I'm sorry," Randall whispered. "I just... I'm going to get hurt Y/n. You can't get mad at me every time."

Y/n was quiet. "I-" For the first time since they'd ever seen Y/n, his voice was soft. "I wasn't angry." He didn't ramble or rant like usual. He didn't go off in deep explanation that set off a long conversation. There was no heart to heart and crying and confessing. For the first time, Y/n stood there with all his walls down, eyes glued to Randall, and he let the silence speak for all the things he had never said.

Before Randall could say anything, the other three wolves still in the room made themselves remembered as Lilith teasingly noticed, "So that’s how you shut him up.”

Y/n threw a pillow at her, but she wasn't going to be silenced easily. For a change, Y/n was though, and that was all they got from him. For now... At least Randall had a secret weapon for the next time Y/n went off on him.

Male reader tags: @sheepfather

#randall carpio imagine #randall carpio #randall carpio x reader #randall carpio x male reader #the order of the hermedic blue rose #the order x reader #the order imagine #the order #the knights of saint christopher imagine #the knights of the order of the hermedic blue rose #the knights of saint chrisptoher #the knights of saint christopher x reader #the knights of saint christopher x male reader #male reader

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blackjack-15 · 4 years ago

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Dead Weight — Thoughts on: Tomb of the Lost Queen (TMB)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it. For this meta and the next (DED), there will be a section entitled The Theme between The Mystery and The Suspects.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: TMB, DED, massive spoilers for SPY; quick spoilers for the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Supermystery Secrets of the Nile.

The Intro:

Here we are already (finally?) at TMB! This one’s gonna be a bit different, lads.

The next two metas in this series — this one for TMB and the next for DED are gonna be a little bit of a two-part sort of endeavor, mostly because the two games are thematically juxtaposed against each other. They should be uploaded within a week of each other (fingers crossed!) to make the comparison a little easier between the two games (and two metas), so if you haven’t played one or the other, you might want to do that before jumping in.

Obligatory heads-up out of the way, let’s get our mummy on.

TMB is a game that, if you were a kid like me obsessed with ancient Egypt (and an adult like me obsessed with ancient Egypt), was one of the most hotly anticipated Nancy Drew titles to hit store shelves. Fortunately, unlike a lot of the “anticipated” games in the series, this one actually delivers – and delivers in spades.

Heh. Spades. Archaeology. You get it. Moving on!

TMB is an interesting game that plays double duty with its literary significance; in other words, it’s one of the few games to have both a definite theme and a definite mission statement, and to have the two be entirely separate from each other. We’ll discuss the theme below, so this introduction is mostly going to be talking about the game’s mission statement — in other words, the main topic of the game, versus the theme it revolves around.

If it sounds like I’m splitting analytic hairs there, it’s because I am. But hey, ‘splitting analytic hairs’ could be the mission statement of this meta series.

Both this game and the title of the meta are about the dead — and more specifically, the weight that the dead have on the events of the game and people in the game themselves. Abdullah (archaeologist and artifact smuggler), Nancy (death of her mother; interest in ancient civilizations), and Jamila (mother; her lineage) are the big, obvious ones who are living under the weight of the dead, but they’re not the only ones.

Lily’s future is “dead” in a number of ways: her academic dishonesty, her position as an archaeology student, and her interest in dinosaurs. Jon’s position as the head of the dig isn’t his only tie to the dead — he also spends most of the game in a hospital after a brush with death itself. Dylan even gets in on it with his false IDs; not only could those be referred to as “dead” identities — they were never alive to begin with — but someone with that many identities could easily have their original said to be dead, buried under the weight of compounding lies.

The weight of the dead extends beyond even our characters and their backstory and motivations, however. The game takes place in what can easily be called a “dead zone”. Nancy’s odd ability to have perfect cell service aside, the camp for the vast majority of the game is in a secret place where neither people nor supplies can get to them, and they even run out of water, which will kill you quicker than anything in the desert.

The most concrete representation of the weight of the dead in TMB is the curse. Thought to be lethal for a lifetime after entering an ancient tomb, curses are little more than superstitions backed up by ‘mysterious’ deaths (usually due to ingesting bacteria within the tomb), but the curse in the first chamber that Nancy opens does press down on the game, with accidents and unfortunate or suspicious things happening one after another after the seal is broken.

Of course, it’s not the unquiet spirit of a dead queen causing the mischief and mayhem, but she is the reason that our cast is gathered in Egypt, and Nefertari’s presence — or lack thereof, due to the erasure of her by history and by those who followed after her — is, in effect, the curse itself. If it wasn’t for her presence, the mystery surrounding her, and the disappeared team of archaeologists decades prior, no one would be at the tomb in the modern day.

But she is there, like a magnet for those with ulterior motives, and she’s there to pull our cast tighter and tighter into her own personal land of the dead. “She’ll never let you leave”, indeed.

The last thing I want to touch on is the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Supermystery that very, very loosely forms the basis of this game: Secrets of the Nile. A well-known Supermystery for the fake marriage plot (the Hardy Boys and Nancy and Bess) and for the Frank/Nancy kiss on the balcony before they are like “oh yeah we’re dating different people huh”. The game doesn’t take much from the book other than the location and a financial motive for crime, but it’s interesting that they chose this book when very little was kept at all.

Now, let’s take a closer look at the pieces that make up this game, shall we?

The Title:

Tomb of the Lost Queen is a classic-feeling title for a Nancy Drew mystery, and accomplishes a few obvious things right off the bat. It first establishes that this is a game about the dead — as said above — and the presence that the dead have in the world of the living. Second, it gives us our location — “Tomb of the Lost Queen” immediately brings Egypt and its many royal tombs to mind — and the focus of the mystery that we’ll be solving.

And if that were all the title could mean, I’d say it’s a solid title – better than Secrets of the Nile, by any metric — but the title’s work isn’t quite done with that.

The last question that the title asks is who is the Lost Queen? We learn about Nefertari fairly quickly in the game and her history definitely qualifies her as a lost queen, but, in my opinion, there’s another candidate that the game title references: Jamila’s mother.

She was a woman of a royal bloodline, disappearing under mysterious circumstances, leaving behind only a trace that her presence ever existed in a tomb buried in the sand — if ever there was a story that would qualify you as a lost queen, it would be hers.

The Mystery:

Job shadowing archaeologist Jon Boyle (and once again showing off her interest in archaeology and ancient civilizations), Nancy is just settling in to the Kingston University dig site when a massive sandstorm hits camp — and someone attacks Jon, sending him to the hospital, whipping up talk of a curse that ended this expedition 60 years earlier, and scaring off much of the excavation crew.

Left behind when the dust finally settles are archaeologist Abdullah Bakhoum, PhD student Lily Crewe, and Nancy herself — and none of our three characters are interested in leaving, despite the shadow of a curse hanging over their work, and the ever-present feeling that the desert does not want them there.

They aren’t alone for too long, however; after Nancy discovers a secret room and hidden sarcophagus, the friendly yet secretive tour guide Dylan Carter and the alien aficionado Jamila El-Dine both show up (despite the dig being a closed and secret location), and it becomes clear that, whatever their own personal agendas might be, no one is at this location for scientific discovery.

The hunt is on to find out why everyone has congregated at this site, who hurt Jon and is causing incidents all over camp, and — most importantly — what exactly the tomb of the lost queen is truly hiding…

As a mystery, TMB holds plenty of turns and side plots worthy of a much longer game than it is, and as a result feels quite packed with story. Not only do you have the story of Ramses II and his Queen, but you have the story of Jamila and the Daughters of Nefertari, the black market scheme, Dylan’s past, and the storyline revolving around who hurt Jon.

Add to all of that Hotchkiss and Bess’ asides that give new meaning and perspective to the events in the mystery, and you have a solid, character-driven mystery that drives its suspense not from being a whodunnit — that’s not really a question through the whole game, as we know from the beginning that Abdullah is up to some shady crap — but from putting characters in a stressful situation and seeing what they’ll do.

The Theme:

TMB is interesting for many, many reasons — most of which will be detailed in this meta — but I think the most interesting thing about it is its theme. At its core, TMB is a game about fear — fear of death, fear of failure, fear of obscurity, fear of abandonment, fear of ignorance — and how this fear preys on people, but also how fear is a pathway to knowledge. As is nearly always the case with Nancy Drew games, it’s our villain who gives us the theme:

“For thousands of years, the lion spoke and no one understood. But understand the fear and you understand the man.”

This sentiment is added to a little further on in the game:

“When people feel like they can get away with anything, they change.”

In other words, it’s fear that defines who people are and what they do. Understand that fear, and you’ll understand the person. Remove that fear, and a person necessarily changes, because they’re not defined by that fear anymore.

This theme plays out through our main characters. Dylan’s fear is a fear of discovery — of being discovered by Nancy that he’s there to try to join the black market. When that fear is removed — or rather, superseded — by the fear of death after being a human paddle in a boulder pinball game, he’s able to be understood for who he really is — a bit of a con man, but not there to hurt or kill anyone.

Lily’s fear at first seems to be of the curse, but the curse really is just a stand-in for her true fear: the fear of repercussions for her actions. Once the fear is understood, it’s easy to see that she’s helping Abdullah in his black-market scheme by trying to injure — sometimes fatally — those who would stand in their way.

Jamila is a character tightly wrapped up — in every way — which illustrates her fear of exposure. When that fear is understood, it’s obvious that she’s hiding things about herself, which leads us to the Daughters of Nefertari plotline, and the discovery of just how bloody the tomb’s — and the queen’s — history is.

Last of the suspects is Abdullah, who fears a lack of notoriety — obscurity, basically — which parallels him to Nefertari nicely, who became obscure due to the actions of others and the passage of time. Once that fear is understood, it’s easy to understand who Abdullah is and why he does what he does — fakes finding artifacts, sells things on the black market, and constantly puffs himself up in conversation.

Because this game is centered around fear, let’s look quickly at how that fear affects Nancy. Sure, the fear of others causes them to try to damage her in one way or another, but Nancy tends to be somewhat fearless in her mystery solving. Her talk with Bess — more on that below — does expose one fear: ignorance.

When you’re in a situation where knowledge keeps you alive, which Nancy often is, it’s easy to say that fear of ignorance is simply the fear of bad things happening to you. But Nancy’s is a bit deeper than that; she defines herself as a curious person, and gets frustrated when things are purposely hidden from her. Nancy fears not knowing things, pure and simple, and it’s due to that fear that she puts herself in danger again and again to ferret out the truth.

The Suspects:

Our first suspect is the venerable and totally guilty Abdullah Bakhoum himself, preeminent archaeologist, egotist, and black market crook. A sort of dark shadow of Alejandro in SSH, Abdullah doesn’t think much about the taking of Egypt’s treasures to different countries’ museums, and is determined that if anyone is going to make money off of history, it’s going to be him.

As our preeminent Bad Guy, Abdullah is the rather obvious choice — which would be a problem if this mystery was concerned with hiding his presence in it, rather than building off of it. As it is, however, his presence strengthens the mystery, allowing for not only a focus for Nancy’s suspicions, but also a source of tension in the tomb, making it feel dangerous even when Nancy is simply exploring.

Of note is Abdullah’s decision when arrested at the end of the game to take the blame for everything that happened, eschewing Lily’s involvement completely. I’m of the opinion that it had to be Lily that attacked Jon — she was already above ground, he wouldn’t have been on his guard being around her, there were plenty of heavy things in the tent to hit him with — but Abdullah doesn’t try to reduce his sentence by offering information or implicating her in anything.

It’s a wonderful character moment that shows us what these later games really are capable of — villains with complex and consistent characterization. Abdullah is an egotist, a narcissist, and a smuggler, yes, but he has his own personal code of conduct, and ends the game not on the note of having tried to kill everyone, but on a singular note of mercy to a fellow student of history.

Next on the docket is Lily Crewe. Originally a paleontology student, she switched majors and ended up on the site by Abdullah’s request — a strange happenstance, considering the strong allegations of cheating on her record. Of course, that record is exactly the reason that Abdullah asked for her to be on the dig, as he needed help smuggling artifacts off-site.

As one half (possibly one third, depending on how culpable you think she truly is) of our Bad Guy Team, Lily is at once more sympathetic and less laudable than Abdullah. Having cheated — and been caught — she obviously was Abdullah’s best bet for a partner that wouldn’t betray him, as he was her chance at shoring up her rocky academic record.

However, a person of stronger moral fiber — or who appreciated her second chance — would have exposed Abdullah as soon as she had evidence in order to show her commitment going forward to honesty, so one can’t be too sympathetic. It’s worth noting that after Abdullah’s arrest (and sacrifice on her behalf), Lily goes back into paleontology. One can only hope dinosaurs have fewer opportunities for graft, and that she’s learned something from the tomb.

The next to show up is Dylan Carter, a man of many names (though only one handsome face) who moonlights as a tour guide. He also would really, really like to be part of Abdullah’s smuggling operation, but other than that, he’s really here for a good time.

And to be crushed by rocks.

As a culprit, Dylan would have been a little bit of a cheat, seeing as he wasn’t there from the beginning — though a reveal of him being the culprit would have necessitated showing that Dylan had been there the whole time, hiding in plain sight as part of the dig crew or something. While that would have been a cool reveal, it ultimately wouldn’t have accomplished the thematic goals of the game, and so is better left undone.

Last on our list of suspects is Jamila El-Dine, visiting the tomb under the guise of being a bat-crap-crazy Follower of the Annunaki — the alien race that supposedly built the pyramids, among other things — but who is actually a member of a secret society called the Daughters of Nefertari, dedicated to finding Nefertari (as they are her direct descendants); each daughter must search for her until she is found.

I will point out, reservedly, that Jamila definitely should not have been searching until she had a daughter of her own, in case she died the way her mother did, but I digress. It does point to Jamila being more of a firebrand (and more doggedly determined to end the search) than those before her, so kudos for that.

Like Dylan, Jamila as the culprit would have been a cheat, given her entrance into the game a good portion of the way through the mystery, but it also would have defeated the purpose of having Jamila in the story, which is to be a foil to Nancy.

Jamila is bound by the fate of her mother (and her mother’s mother, and on and on), who died under mysterious circumstances thought to be a car accident, but later revealed to be due to her performing dangerous work. Jamila thus journeys out to the world to find out exactly what happened and is tasked with doing what her mother had been doing at the time of her death, feeling the responsibility to prevent further deaths by completing her mother’s work. In order to do this, she pretends to be someone she’s not, uses those around her, and ultimately has to trust in a shady man with facial hair and a girl who frequently goes undercover for her job, fighting against a skinny man involved in a larger scheme with a heightened sense of his own importance.

Oops, should I have warned for SPY spoilers there?

Yeah, Jamila is basically playing out a future of Nancy’s (and one that happens, albeit with important differences, in SPY), and foils her in her sense of responsibility and curiosity about what happened to her mother, and in finishing the job she set out to do. While Nancy doesn’t immediately understand this, Bess does, and calls her out on it:

“That’s sort of like you…after your mom…I mean, I always thought it was your mom — the way she died — that made you so interested in mysteries.”

Nancy responds with “I guess I never thought of it that way,” and it’s clear the idea has knocked her off balance, because, importantly, Jamila exposes a characteristic of that becomes important in this and the next game: she’s not what we’d call self-aware.

And that leads into us talking about Nancy Drew as a character in this game. Pursuing one of her interests by job shadowing a professional, Nancy is thrown into a world that she’s far more comfortable in — that of solving mysteries without direct supervision — when Jon is attacked and sent to the hospital. From there, she goes on a rapid pace to figure out who the other people at the dig really are, and in so doing discovers a bit about herself.

Like a Lifetime movie, except without the Big Misunderstanding and the secret lost will of a dead parent.

Like I stated above, what this game really does to show us who Nancy is (besides showing us her reaction to someone exactly like her) is to show us her lack of self-awareness. Nancy spends so much time trying to figure out the motives and secrets of others that she doesn’t really spend any time soul-searching or figuring out how she, in particular, reacts to the world around her

Well, prior to the beginning of the Nancy games, she doesn’t. But she’s in for a whole lot more of that in the next few games as we unwrap (heh) more of her foils. As it is, Nancy herself tells us who she thinks she is in this game:

“I’m a curious person. I find that tact often gets in the way of truly getting to know someone.”

Joining us on the “Nancy Side” of characters are one new character and two familiar faces.

Jon Boyle is the leader of Kingston University’s dig site, and definitely the person that you want to get out of the way if you’re up to shenanigans. He’s basically in the game to give some dirt on Lily and Abdullah, and to save the day at the very end by (as is his job) taking care of those he’s in charge of.

Just, you know, more physically than academically.

While she was a playable, seen character in the last game, it’s here in TMB that Bess Marvin gets a little more characterization and becomes more fully fleshed out. As Nancy’s lifeline to River Heights and normalcy, Bess is here to watch pulpy Egyptian horror movies and to drop some stone-cold truths onto Nancy.

Bess is wonderful in this game, full stop. Not only does she expose a few of Nancy’s character traits to the clueless girl detective – the whole mom thing, Nancy’s tendency to keep everyone in the dark but to get frustrated when she’s kept in the dark herself — but she also helps to show the difference between what the River Heights crew finds fulfilling — relaxing, internships, etc. — and what Nancy finds fulfilling — dangerous tombs hiding mysteries in the desert.

Last of all is Professor Beatrice Hotchkiss, academic extraordinaire and expert on lost and maligned queens — and heaven knows, Nefertari fits both qualifications. Hotchkiss is here for more reason than just to light up my life, however; she’s here to help Nancy understand the traps within the tomb and figure out exactly what — and who — she’s dealing with in the ancient past.

Hotchkiss is a proper choice here, and I probably would have been disappointed had she not shown up. She’s the perfect mix of spacey academic and, well, brilliant academic, and though Nancy isn’t too fond of her, she’s probably my favorite reoccurring phone friend outside of the Hardy Boys.

The Favorite:

There’s a lot to love with TMB, so let’s jump right in.

First off, my favorite puzzle(s) have got to be the word puzzles for unscrambling the special hieroglyphics. Longtime followers of this meta series (or those who read my ASH meta) know that my favorite thing in a Nancy Drew game is always the word puzzle, and these are so much fun that it’d be impossible for them not to be my favorite puzzle.

My favorite moment in the game is probably the finding of Jamila’s mom’s journal pages, culminating in the line “she’ll never let you leave”. Like I’ve said above, so much of this game is about the weight of the dead and the effect they have on the living, and Jamila’s mom weighs heaviest of all as our intensely personal, recent stake in finding Nefertari.

I’ve said before (in a previous meta about my favorite surprising moments in the ND games) that there’s shades of Kate’s last correspondences in Jamila’s mother’s journal, and those shades are never so present as they are here.

There’s not really another place to put it, so I’m gonna put a shout-out to the cover of the DVD case here. It’s really well-designed and captures the feeling of the game without being overly spoilery, so massive kudos to the developers and designers for it.

The last thing I note here (though I could go on and on about the small details in this game that make it great) is the feeling of continued exploration. In a lot — I’d say most, honestly — of Nancy Drew games, once you explore everywhere, there’s really nowhere left to go other than sometimes a new location at the end of the game while chasing down the villain. Here, the game is continually expanding through the new tunnels and passages in the tomb. It makes it really feel like this a real location you could explore, and not just a few screens limited for time, space, and design restrictions, and it’s wonderful.

On the less wonderful side, however…

The Un-Favorite:

The biggest problem I have with TMB is that the first fourth of it — pretty much until Nancy finds the first sarcophagus — is fairly unintuitive. Even replaying it multiple times doesn’t make it any easier to remember what I have to do and when I can do it, and playing it through the first time results in not a few times where you stare at the screen, wondering what it is you’re supposed to be doing. This is a rare problem in Nancy Drew games, but it’s fairly present through the first part of the game here, and that is a problem.

My least favorite puzzle is probably the lifting-the-rocks-off-Dylan puzzle, if only because it always takes me five or six tries to do it. It always feels like a sort of trial-and-error sort of thing, which (excepting its place in logic puzzles) isn’t really my personal favorite. It’s not that I think it’s a bad puzzle, it’s just my least favorite in the game.

My least favorite moment in the game is more of a meta moment, but it’s when Nancy asks for “a few tips” for translating hieroglyphics, and Abdullah mocks her a bit, saying that oh, yes, at first he was also confused, but then he learned a few tips. It would be a great moment in the game — and in the story itself, it is — if it wasn’t, well, immediately contradicted by the nature of the hieroglyphics puzzles. Like I said above, the unscrambling of the hieroglyphics puzzles are my favorite in the whole game, and I love them to death, but in a meta sense, this moment does stick out in a “you can’t say it’s stupid and then include it as if just saying it’s stupid makes it okay for you to do” sort of way.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Tomb of the Lost Queen?

The big thing that needs help in TMB is to make the beginning more intuitive. Whether this should be done by Jon giving Nancy a set of tasks to complete, having a checklist of what needs to be done that day (even if it’s vague), or some other method, there definitely needs to be a little more direction in the first part of the game.

I’m not saying that the game should hold the player’s hand — especially considering that the average age of the fanbase is well above the age 10+ marker — but a Nancy Drew game should always have something to do at the start, rather than wandering around to explore a place that Nancy has ostensibly already been for a bit.

With that change in mind, there’s really honestly nothing else that I would fix. TMB is a game devoted to the idea that the dead are ever present in life, especially for those who have lost people, and it really accomplishes delivering that idea through a myriad of characters, scenes, and clues that Nancy finds along the way. It also goes a long way in developing Nancy more as a character, and — perhaps most importantly — begins the task of setting the groundwork for a truly Nancy-centric story in SPY.

#nancy drew #nancy drew games #clue crew #tomb of the lost queen #nancy drew meta #video games #my meta #TMB

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