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inawearyworld · 1 year ago

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free if you truly wish to be: chapter v

the power of a found family heist saves the day (six of crows who??) (god these summaries have become rather unhinged over the course of this fic huh)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.3k

just wanted to say thank you to all you lovely people who've read and loved this fic! please lmk what you think, like reblog yadda yadda yadda. i'm euphrasiepontmercy on ao3 if you want to see any more of my near-embarrassingly escapist writing :) there will certainly be more wren coming in the form of playlists, pinterest boards, drawings, etc

so much love <3

part four fic masterlist

The next day, for half of a moment upon awakening, she thought the whole past month had been a dream. That she’d go on living in her unpierced golden cage, that there was nothing revealed and nothing to reveal, that things could be fine for a little while longer.

Then she heard the blaring vocal warmups of the comedian who lived down the hall.

…Okay, then.

It’s real.

She stayed up in Piper’s room, hoping to escape notice from the owners of the establishment, whom she’d never seen but hated due to their imprisonment of her friends. She’d warned them all the previous night that the Chocolate Cartel had seemed about to propose a surely sinister deal to Wonka-regrettably all but Noodle, who was asleep, and who she thought would probably take the hit the hardest, whatever hit that might be.

She wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Willy had wound up under the thumb of men who would gladly destroy him, the wash crew was nowhere near the freedom they deserved, and she herself was disgraced and thrown out by the only practical lifeline she’d had for two years, the man she’d thought she’d loved.

She realized, though, that the chain of actions that led to finally standing up to Felix was the first thing she’d done in two years that she didn’t regret.

That new sense of assurance, though, wouldn’t put any food on her family’s table.

Or her own.

And still, the thrumming in the back of her heart took the form of olive eyes, soft curls, and chocolate-dot freckles. How much danger was he in? Had he really lost all hope?

Was he even alive?

The only venture she’d made that morning was a careful one to Lottie’s room; the telephonist had snuck her a bit of gruel and told her she could borrow some of her clothes for the day. When she got back to Piper’s, she heard a large clank against the wall, and opened the window to investigate.

She was met with those same olive eyes, accompanied by a tired but teasing smile.

“We have really got to stop meeting like this.”

Relief flooded her so thoroughly that every rational thought momentarily disappeared, and suddenly Wren realized that she was kissing him.

And that he was kissing her back.

And that he was very precariously perched on a very tall ladder.

“I, ah…”

She trailed off, struck speechless by the haze in his expression that could be described in no way but adoring.

“You’re alive,” she breathed. “You’re here.”

“So are you.”

“And you feel the same way?”

“Very much so.”

Apparently unable to form any longer sentences, they fell into shaking, half-disbelieving laughter.

“Wrap it up, Romeo, a person can only keep this steady for so long,” came Piper’s voice from below, and Willy laughed again.

“Alright, I-well.”

“Yeah?”

She watched him run through the events of the past hours in his mind as he tried to sum it up, and he quickly shook his head.

“Come on down, we’ll all explain what happened. Then we need your help to rescue Noodle.”

And so they did. Once the whole crew had been informed of all that had happened, they planned and began to carry out their heist, and Wren-while still fully aware of the danger-allowed part of herself to be thrilled at finally having adventures with a found, created family like she’d read about all her life.

There were a few variables, of course-there was a plan for if Willy and Noodle were caught by the Cartel and a plan for if they weren’t, which, of course, they were. Wren flitted through various windows enough to throw a surely-still-reeling Felix slightly off his game, enough that he’d gladly drown his thoughts in the planted Hoverchocs. She also misdirected those who somehow weren’t distracted by the giraffe, allowing the Oompa-Loompa to enter the cathedral and do his part.

What she wasn’t expecting to do was help him to rescue the pair from death by chocolate.

She’d started to make her way out of the cathedral when she heard a shout of “thank you, little orange man!” from under the ground. Puzzled, she’d looked down to see a chocolate-drenched Noodle and Willy gasping for breath under a circle of glass and flooring as the brown liquid receded. She startled, then quickly came to her wits in time to break the surface and pull each of them through, all three falling into each other’s arms.

“What-”

“Oh, God-”

“What on earth-”

“Thanks, Wren-”

“What happened?”

“The plan,” Willy said, pausing to clear his throat of chocolate, “ran into a few setbacks.”

“I can see that.”

“But,” and here he reached into his vest to produce a large and somewhat soaked envelope, “I brought you this, from the vault.”

Wren opened it carefully to see that its contents were luckily mostly untouched by chocolate. Half of them she recognized as what she’d sent to her family, the things that Felix had withheld, but the rest of the envelopes were graced with her mom’s handwriting.

She’d thought she’d cried more in the past days than ever before, but apparently there were still plenty of tears left, and they all threatened to break loose upon that sight.

They’ve been writing to me all this time.

It was devastating and hopeful all at once. Her husband had spent two years keeping her from contacting her family and keeping them from the reassurance that she cared, but now that she had the letters, she could finally start to make things right.

Also in the massive envelope was a shinier letter, addressed to her from the city’s opera house, stating that a new artistic director had been hired: one who didn’t live in fear of the Cartel, had programmed Romeo et Juliette for the upcoming season, and wished nothing more than for Madame Fickelgruber to play the second title role. Not because of her association, not her relative fame, but her.

She hurriedly looked at the postage date; it wasn’t too late for her to write back and accept.

It’s not too late.

The thought, and its application to just about everything, filled her with light.

She didn’t know why Felix had kept all of this instead of throwing it out; possibly to feed his own ego, to know that his wife was in demand but he was the one that had her. Whatever it was, Willy had found the truth and held it even when he’d thought all was lost, and given it to her the moment he’d had the chance.

“And we found out why Slugworth was acting so weird,” Noodle said excitedly, still catching her breath. “We’re related, if you can believe it-but my parents really did care-and my mom, we-we found her!”

“Oh, Noodle, that’s wonderful,” she gasped, pulling the girl into a hug.

“Yeah, Willy managed to find her name in the ledger-but even after that, he kept looking around the vault until he found that envelope. Said it was for you-that we’d find your family, too.”

Tears brimmed in Wren’s eyes as she nodded to the girl with a smile of sweet solidarity. She then looked over to meet Willy’s gaze, more grateful than she’d ever been, and saw that he’d been watching her with a compassionate blend of sympathy and shared hope.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and kissed him again, heedless of the mess. “I know this will come as no surprise, but-”

“I taste like chocolate?”

“I could get used to it.”

“Okay, WE GET IT,” came Noodle’s laugh, “you like each other, it finally happened, hallelujah. Now-look!”

They all turned to the door to see the unmistakable silhouettes of the Cartel, and Willy grinned. It was time for the final phase of their plan.

The three misfits helped each other off the ground and made their way to the cathedral’s entrance, just in time to hear Prodnose’s “in which they died” followed by the men’s laughter.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

All heads turned at his voice, and Wren grinned to see all three chocolatiers pale at the sight of them.

“Wonka!” shouted Slugworth.

“Florence,” formed Fickelgruber.

“What?” piped Prodnose.

“Officer, would you kindly take a look at this?”

Willy handed the ledger he’d held to Officer Affable, and Noodle smiled as she stepped forward.

“It details every single illegal payment these men have ever made. Thousands of them.”

“Affable, don’t listen to her. She’s lying,” the Chief said, but Affable had already opened the ledger.

“Well, of course she is,” said Slugworth, his clear nervousness betraying him. Wren smirked and looked back to Affable.

“She’s not, sir. She’s absolutely right, it’s…incredible.”

The Chief blinked, then tried as he might to take back control.

“Oh. Well. Then it sounds like a case for the Chief of Police. Give it to me, Affable, I’ll take it from here.”

“I can’t do that, I’m afraid, sir.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because your name’s written down here, sir. A lot. Gentlemen, you’re under arrest,” he said, addressing the Cartel with the latter statement.

Slugworth nodded slightly, his eyes widening, and barely turned to his colleagues when he spoke to them.

“Run.”

And run they did, but they didn’t get far. Gasps went up in the crowd as the Chocolate Cartel took to the air once again, and the other trio strolled down to the base of the fountain.

“Wha-what’s happening,” Slugworth cried, “why are we airborne?”

“You didn’t eat any of those chocolates, did you, Mr. Slugworth?” Willy asked, knowing full well that he’d won.

God, certainty looked good on him.

“Why?”

“Because they’re Hoverchocs! Delayed action. But extra strong.”

“Florence!-” Felix called, the adrenaline of flight having pitched his voice up nearly an octave as he grabbed onto Prodnose’s leg with one hand and reached to her with the other. “Just forget it all, my pet, I’ll forgive you in time, don’t worry, we’ll get rid of him again and all will be well-”

He always was one for the dramatics.

And that’s something I can easily match.

She looked straight at him, made a show of removing her wedding ring, held it aloft until it glinted in the sun, and let it go, allowing it to tumble through the air and land directly on the edge of a convenient storm drain.

Felix let out a strangled gasp, his eyes not on her but rather trailing the expensive ring as it fell. From his vantage point, it was gone forever in that drain, and she was happy to let him believe that; she’d pick it up later and send it to her family.

Though, perhaps, with her dream off to a real start, she’d finally be able to make her own way in the world and help to support her family on her own accord.

That thought was sweeter than any amount of candy.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Wonka?” Slugworth was saying. He went on to rattle off assurances on how the Cartel could still defeat him, a frantic gloat of their societal power over him, but Wren barely heard it; she was becoming progressively more distracted by Willy’s slight and slowly growing smirk.

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

Then, with something close to darkness, he looked up at them through the chocolate that framed his eyelashes, and Wren thought for a moment that she might faint.

Noodle gave her signal, the ground started to rattle, and Wren’s heart beat faster and faster.

No going back now.

She took a last look at Felix, feeling strangely sorry for him despite herself. In another world, perhaps, he could have been given the space to regard his humble past without shame, could have used it to become a more compassionate person.

Then she reminded herself that, in this world, he had tried to kill two people and had possibly already killed many more, spent his life prioritizing appearance over literally anything else, lied to her countless times, and allowed his chocolate monopoly to uphold an elitist society.

And this world was the one she lived in.

And this world was the one in which the frozen fountain burst with chocolate, rocketing the three men who’d clung to it up and out until they were sailing through the sky.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen!” Willy was calling to them. “You’ll come down eventually, I think. Probably.”

He then turned to her and whispered, “they will.” Through all of this, he still refused to completely harm anyone. The bare minimum, perhaps, but more compassion than the Cartel would have faced opposite any other foe. She smiled and squeezed his hand in silent thanks.

With that, he threw a few ingredients into the chocolate fountain, causing it to sparkle as it never had before, and invited the crowd to enjoy.

As the wash crew came together in relief and celebration, Wren realized that the teasing phrase she’d spoken earlier had more meaning than she’d originally known.

She could indeed get used to this.

Not too much of a time later, that same group stood in that same town square on those same cathedral steps, but there was something different in the air.

The Cartel had indeed come safely down from the skies after a few hours on that fateful day, and had promptly been arrested by the newly appointed and much more just Chief Affable of Police. There was more color in the town, more music; everything had seemed a bit lighter, or maybe that was just how it felt to be genuinely living in love.

Because now, Wren Matterson was able to write back and forth with her family again. Now, she was in rehearsals for a role she adored. Now, she was coming into a state of self-empowerment unlike anything she’d ever known. Now, she spent time not perched restless on a fainting couch, but laughing with and learning from a better group of friends than she ever could have imagined, and had even worked together to reunite one of them with her own mom, which they were just about to do.

And right now, in this very moment, Willy Wonka, with tears of grateful closure in his eyes, carefully broke apart his mother’s last chocolate bar, handing a piece of it to each of these dear, dear friends. He then looked to Wren with an expression she was still bowled over by every time, and reached into his pocket.

With a soft but sparkling smile, he opened his hand to reveal an emerald-wrapped, heart-shaped almond milk chocolate.

So, no, Wren Matterson was no longer fine. She was so much better than fine.

She was free.

#fiytwtb #wonka 2023 #wonka #wonka movie #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #wonka fanfic #wonka fanfiction #timothée chalamet x reader

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bylightofdawn · 8 months ago

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WIP Sunday

Going to post a snippet of the Reeve/Rufus fanfic I've been working on the past couple of days. It's coming along pretty quickly, which is an ongoing relief. For context, Reeve has come to Rufus and is trying to tender his resignation and Rufus being Rufus of course makes it into one ridiculous powerplay with a lot of manipulation.

Reeve is tired and over the bullshit. I feel like I'm writing a little...harsher than I've seen people write him in fanfic but I figure after everything that has happened and the fact Rufus is practically still in the enemy column in Reeve's books...well, lets say it's going to take a while to get to the lovers part of this enemies to lovers tropefest.

As always, this is super rough and not really edited, it is liable to change yadda yadda.

Whenever Rufus Shinra looked at his most harmless, that was when he was at his deadliest.

“You know, I could have you executed for the traitorous actions you took in aiding AVALANCE and undermining my authority.”

“You won’t do that.” The engineer stated, voice surprising even despite the way heart rabbited in his chest at a wild pace.

That earned him a raised brow and an ironic look from the blond. “I won’t, will I? Tell me, Tuesti, are you a betting man?”

“You won’t kill me because you still need me and my skills.” Reeve had learned to bluff with the best of them and he could only pray that Rufus didn’t scrutinize him too closely for fear he might see beneath the paper-thin veneer of his bluff and read just how privately terrified he was.

“It seems to me I could just refuse to let you leave and then you’ll have no choice but to provide those skills to me. I made no promises you'd be allowed to leave here.” Rufus countered lazily.

“You really want an architect with an axe to grind against you personally working on a building project for you? Isn’t having a building fall on your head once in a lifetime enough for you?” That was a spiteful, mean-spirited comment, and Reeve immediately felt guilty for uttering it, but Rufus’s attitude was getting under his skin.

Rufus flinched in a subtle, almost imperceptible manner, making the guilt even worse. He hated that the blond brat had managed to drag him down to his level of trading barbed comments.

“My apologies, that was uncalled for.”

“I’m not sure I like your new claws, Tuesti. But I’m willing to entertain this ridiculous idea of yours. What exactly do you think you can do with the support of Shinra at your back? You do realize you need money to fund your high-minded projects.”

“I’m aware,” Reeve said tightly but found himself hesitant to mention the donors and money-raising efforts they’d already gotten in order to help make Edge a little more livable.

“Fine, keep your secrets. You never answered me before. Are you a betting man, Reeve?”

He found himself gaping at the other man because honestly, had he never met Cait Sith? Dancing on the razor-edged blade of chance was half of Cait’s battle style. And where had the animatronic cat gotten that penchant for fortune telling and rolls of the dice but from his creator himself?

Reeve had projected a lot of his innermost self into the creation of Cait Sith. In many ways, the animatronic cat was the best parts of Reeve Tuesti. Or at least, the parts of himself he wished he could openly express and reveal to the world.

“Depends on the bet.” The older man finally stated cautiously.

A thin smile broke out on that flawless face as Rufus leaned forward ever so slightly.

“If you can last six months under your own power and prove you can pull these lofty plans off alone, I will fund your organization for an entire year. If you fail, you return to me and put this nonsense about leaving to bed once and for all.”

Reeve recognized the collar that was being offered plainly for what it was.

Anxiety curdled in his stomach at the thought of shackling himself to Shinra potentially for life.

But the chance….

The slim hope he might actually be able to do some good and hopefully wash some of the blood on his hands away. Even a lifetime of servitude to the likes of Rufus Shinra seemed like a worthy trade-off if he could actually bring some good into the world.

And the more pragmatic part of his mind pointed out what his alternative was. He could refuse, and then what? Have Rufus Shinra as an enemy? He joked about imprisoning him, but that was just the sort of page out of his father’s playbook that he might use.

Either that, or he might wind up dead, disappeared somewhere where his body would never be found.

Just another object lesson of what happened to those who thought to cross the SEPC.

“Fine, you have yourself a bet.” Reeve finally conceded and the brief flash of triumph that flickered across Rufus’s face was genuinely worrisome.

#el writes #ff7 fanfiction #reeve tuesti #rufus shinra #I still don't know wtf this ship tag is

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loki-hargreeves · 5 years ago

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Hela is Loki’s birth mother THEORY

Alright, my theory begins with Hela’s story. She says herself that they were going to take over the nine realms, revealing that she was power-hungry. She was raised to be that way.

Then all of a sudden, Odin “ashamed of how he got it” wanted to stop. He wanted to be a good king. Hela didn’t want to accept that. Instead of being banished right off the bat, I think Hela tried to come up with her own plan to continue the reign of power, with or without Odin.

Which is how she met Laufey.

Laufey, who was sick and tired of Odin and Asgard in general. When Hela, Odin’s daughter came to meet him, he was interested to hear her out. I believe that Hela proposed a suggestion that they would work together. Together Hela and Laufey could bring Jotunheim back to its glory and they could eventually take over the other realms.

Odin didn’t know anything about this. Laufey made a fake peace treaty with Odin, as Hela says in her story.

During this time, they fell in love. Hela got pregnant with Loki. Obviously she couldn’t hide that from anyone. She joined Laufey’s side fulltime and finally betrayed Odin. I think Odin tried to stop her which led to a battle. It was the battle in which Hela killed a lot of Asgardian soldiers. She got away with it and fled to Jotunheim.

She had Loki at some point. Laufey and Hela decided to leave Loki on Jotunheim as they travelled to Midgard/Earth, Tønsberg Norway to be exact. They were going to begin their conquest there.

It’s the beginning of Thor 1;

(I think it looked more like this tbh)

During that battle, Odin didn’t only win over Jotunheim. He banished Hela.

I think he banished Hela in tonsberg, because it’s the same place where Hela comes back. It’s where Odin went to die. To a place where he could think about his past. He felt tied to Tonsberg because it’s where he lost his daughter.

Anyway, back to when Loki was a baby.

Odin knew Hela had been pregnant. He also knew that Hela had teamed up with the Frost giants. He knew that Hela’s child was on Jotunheim. As Loki’s GRANDfather, Odin wanted Loki back. He missed Hela so Loki was the closest thign to her that he could have.

Knowing that Odin is a d*ck, he also kept in mind that Loki could be used to “unite the kingdoms one day” yadda yadda yadda.

Also keep in mind that Loki was “small for a giant’s offspring” it’s ebcause he’s half Asgardian. Loki had Asgardian traits because of Hela. He’s powerful because of Hela. Also they look so much alike.

Why else would Odin, someone who was knee-deep in Jotun blood, take in a random ass baby? Wouldn’t the Frostgiants’ casket be enough?

That’s why when Loki confronted Odin back in THor 1, Odin was so upset. Not only did his “son” find out he was adopted, but the confrontation reminded Odin so much of Hela. A daughter no one had talekd about for over a thousand years. It must’ve been hard for the old king.

He only gave Loki half the truth.

(This is from the official Thor 1 script, not the movie)

Loki: You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?

Odin: You are my son, my blood. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.

Look Odin, I don’t know if you knew this but if you snatch a random baby, it won’t have your blood

UNLESS

Loki truly has Odin’s blood. Not as his son, but as his grandson.

The truth he wanted to protect Loki from was Hela. Not Jotunheim, not Laufey or anything like that. It was Hela. How could Odin have told Loki about Hela when no one even remembered her/knew of her? It was Odin’s greatest secret! Then of course, before Odin could say another word, he fell into Odinsleep.

Now, let’s talk about Laufey, shall we?

In Thor 1 when Thor, Loki, Sif and the warriors three go to Jotunheim, Thor wonders how they got into Asgard.

Thor: How did your people get into Asgard?

Laufey: *stares directly at Loki* Odin’s house is full of traitors.

Note: not a traitor, traitorS

Sure, he refers to the fact Loki told them how to get in there. But since Laufey said it in plurals, it would only make sense he’s also talking about Hela. Hela, who also belongs to Odin’s house. Who also betrayed Odin. The traitors Laufey talked about were Loki AND Hela.

Laufey: (to Thor) “You do not know what your actions will unleash.....I do”

Look at how sad he is. How he clearly thinks back to something that hurt him as he says that.

According to Odin, Laufey abandoned Loki, left him to die. But what I see here is a father who lost something dear to him. Not only did Laufey lose Hela, he lost Loki too. And it seems to me Laufey didn’t abandon Loki. This theory is strengthened when Laufey says this about Odin “Your father is a murderer and a thief!” Yes, Odin stole the casket but he also stole/kidnapped Loki.

The entire scene in which Loki offers Laufey a deal reminds Laufey so much of Hela. How over a thousand years ago she was the one in Loki’s shoes, offering Laufey a chance very much like Loki’s. It’s why he’s genuinely so interested in it. I also think Laufey wanted his son back, one way or another and that this deal would bring them closer to each other. Laufey didn’t know how to suspect Loki because he was a father who wanted to get to know his son. It was a one time opportunity he simply couldn’t let go of. (+ he would get the casket as well so it’s a win-win situation).

One last thing,

just look at them

Also in this scene when Loki throws a dagger at Hela, Hela catches it. Instead of throwing it back at Loki and killing him, she throws it back and sends Loki away. She has no interest nor passion whatsoever in fighting Loki. She doesn’t want to kill him, she didn’t even want to INJURE HIM. Because he’s her son.

Instead, she goes right to Thor, her brother whom she was replaced by. She has motivation to fight Thor, but no motivation to fight her son, right? After all, Loki has done nothing bad to her. She loves him deep down, I’m sure.

When Hela was in Odin’s vault, she saw the frost giants’ casket and she called it weak. OBVIOUSLY, she has experience with it. She put her trust in Jotunheim and still lost to Odin. That’s why she called it weak.

Loki and Hela also share a common interest, the tesseract

IN NORSE MYTHOLOGY Loki is Hela’s father. Loki is also Thor’s uncle. But if this theory would be true, Thor would be Loki’s uncle, Hela would be Loki’s mother. The roles are reversed from mythology.

Bonus:

In Norse mythology, Odin sacrificed his eye to gain wisdom. But this was never mentioned in the comics. In fact, it was shown that he lost his eye during the very same battle in which I believe he banished Hela. The battle which led him to take Loki.

What if Hela was the one to make Odin one-eyed?

And when Hela first saw Thor, this is what happened:

Thor: “I’m Thor, son of Odin.”

Hela: “Really? You don’t look like him.”

Later in that same movie, Hela does this to Thor

So if Hela was the one to do that to Odin, it would place her at the scene of the battle, Jotunheim vs Asgard.

Also, when Hela was by Odin’s side, Odin had two eyes. Odin lost his eye when he took in Loki. Hela was gone before that (presumably banished after she took his eye). So how would Hela, who has been banished for 1000+, know that Odin had one eye if she wasn’t there to witness it? She clearly knew about it because she said that to Thor. I’m convinced Hela was the one who did it to Odin. Like if not, the franchise has a pothole. So it’s almost certain that Hela was in that battle. Case closed.

That’s all for now. Please let me know what you think of this theory 💚

#theory #fan theory #conspiracy #Loki #Hela #mcu #marvel #marvel theory #mcu theory #Loki theory

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Tower #1 (1/1/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Two Alastors hang out in a lighthouse-turned-radio tower. @dontasktheradiodemon Alastor teaches @usedhearts Alastor how to use a cell phone, and in exchange usedhearts Alastor teaches dontasktheradiodemon Alastor how to patch into mortal realm radios without leaving Hell. And then they talk about their families for a while. For a moment there it gets unexpectedly tender.

(Since these two particular Alastors don’t have convenient IC nicknames they can go by, I’ve just referred to them by their blog URLs throughout this chat log lmao)

usedhearts Alastor

A broadcasting station. The natural environment to find a wild Alastor, the Radio Demon. This particular Alastor held one of those fanciful cellular devices in his gloved hands. He'd asked Kyxs to procure one for him before they left, and the apprentice had done an admirable job.

Unfortunately, that had then prompted Kyxs to try and show him how to use it. But alas! He had not wanted that, not at all. It wasn't Kyxs's place to teach him things. Kyxs was the apprentice, he the mentor. Apprentices didn't teach mentors, that just wasn't done!

Instead, he hummed a show tune as he waited for another one of himself to show up. After all, there were at least three of them gathered here, possibly more! And the others all knew how to work these devices, and how to work those interwebs. Surely one would be willing to show him how it was done. He was tired of going through Kyxs to get at the exciting entertainment of his other selves.

And so he waited, device in hand. He'd summoned up a table and chair to recline in, his feet up on said table. He'd be a poor guest if he did that with his host's furniture but he could certainly do it with his own!

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

It’s inevitable that a broadcasting station is going to attract all the nearby Alastors, isn’t it? It’s not long before Alastor #2 makes his way into the tower and starts heading up the stairs, and his ambient broadcasting radius starts to overlap with his alternate’s. He wirelessly pings over a greeting, a simple Morse code “**HELLO**”. He can deliver a proper verbal greeting once he’s upstairs.

usedhearts Alastor

He is immediately aware of his alternate's approach, and his grin _somehow_ widens when he recieves the morse code pingings.

Alastor sends back a similar ping, but his says '**BONJOUR**'

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He bursts up into the top room already singing—“*Gooood mornin’, good mooornin’! Sunbeams will soon smile through—good mornin’, good mornin’ to you!*” It might not, in fact, be morning. This is irrelevant. The song’s got the right vibe.

He nods to his duplicate, then explores the room. “Oh, look at this place, isn’t it a delight! What kind of a broadcasting power does this place get, do you know yet? Say, do you think it’s integrated into the lighthouse—if you’re trying to listen in, do you only get a signal once every few seconds? Ha! Oh, *when we left the movie show, the future wasn’t bright! But the pain is gone, the show goes on, and I don’t want to say goodnight!*” The orchestral backing only cuts in once every couple of measures to represent the hypothetical signal of a lighthouse-radio tower.

usedhearts Alastor

"I haven't had the chance to check, yet! In fact, I've been waiting for you-- or well, me!" Alastor stood, his smile turning excited at seeing his dear other. Or maybe _deer_ other would be more appropriate? Hm. On second thought, no, they were both deer, that wouldn't work very well.

He let out a laugh, accompanied by canned studio laughter, as his other played the lighthouse signal. What a good bit! Alastor moved closer, putting his arm around his dear other's, hooking them together.

"I have a special request, my dear me! You see, I've had my apprentice procure me a certain item, and I need YOUR HELP to figure out just what to do with it!" He brandished the phone, and winked at Alastor.

"You see, I've grown weary of using my apprentice as an intermediary. Too often does he not give the proper inflection, or he even paraphrases!" There's the sound of shocked audience gasps as he puts the phone up to cover his mouth in mock horror. He returns to his normal joviality immediately.

"So I have decided, why not! Why not join the legions of myself that are apparently swarming the internet! But only if you'd be so gracious as to show me how! You see, I can only learn from someone on my level, and dear, sweet, simple Kyxs is not that. But you, my delightful Alastor, fellow Radio Demon, are! And so here I am, humbly asking for your assistance in this matter."

He is not humble. There is nothing humble about him. He is the most not humble. Don't listen to his lie--

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He looped their arms together and pressed his shoulder against his alternate’s. “Well, look at what YOU’VE got! I’m *beside myself* with excitement!” He lightly elbowed his other as the studio audience laughed. He pulled out what at first glance looked like a small black leather clutch with golden metal decorations, but unfolded to reveal a phone—freshly stolen just a few days before the extermination.

He winked. “Keep this between you and me. As far as most people are concerned, I’m either borrowing the hotel computer or else broadcasting straight onto the Internet using nothing but raw radio magic. I’d hate to start getting calls from telemarketers!” Studio laughter. “I know just what you mean about intermediaries! Vaggie’s a more reliable transcriptionist than I think yours is—goodness me, you should see how fast she types!—but she tends to leave out the *juiciest* details.” He gives a dramatic disappointed sigh.

“So! I’d be happy to assist you... for the tiniest favor. I’ll teach you how to communicate with the World Wide Web, and *you’ll* teach *me* how to communicate with the living world’s radios. Sound like a fair deal?”

usedhearts Alastor

Alastor lifted his hand (the one with the phone) to his chin, tapping it as he 'thought' about the offer.

"Hm! I'd say so! Though, since you used the magic word..." He separated from his other, swapping his phone to the other hand before offering his, glowing with green magic.

"Wanna make it official? Just for the fun of it!" He laughed.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Ha!” He waved off the glowing hand. “No no, I make it a policy never to shake on a whim—*just in case,* you know. Can’t see the harm in it, but I don’t want to start a bad habit. Consider yourself free not to hold up your end of the bargain, with no penalty to you except the loss of my trust!”

usedhearts Alastor

With a twirl of his hand, the magic disappeared and he laughed as well. "I completely understand, my good fellow! I occasionally indulge in frivolous deals, but only when there's no danger on my end!"

He walked back over to the table and hopped up to sit on it. "And not to worry, I'll teach you all I know! But first, how does one power on this thing?"

He shook the phone like one would an etchisketch to clear it.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“They hide tiny buttons on the side, see.” He folded back the flap of his case to show the volume buttons on his. “Usually two paired together and one by itself. The paired set controls the volume, and the one by itself turns it on and off. Now, when a phone is off, it could be in one of three modes: ‘sleeping,’ ‘dead but dreaming,’ and ‘actually dead.’ If it’s sleeping, a little tap to the button is enough to wake it up. If it’s dead but dreaming, you’ll have to hold the button a few seconds to raise it from its grave. If holding the button doesn’t wake it, it’s actually dead—and like Dr. Frankenstein, you’ll have to fill it with electricity to resurrect it.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh! I see!" He inspects the device, finding said button and giving it a little press.

Nothing happened. So he pressed it longer, and then the screen lit up as the device started to boot.

"Ah, there it goes!" He waited for it to boot up and then looked at the screen....until it went dark again. His smile didn't drop, but his eyes narrowed-- and he pressed the button again to get it to light back up.

"What now?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He sat next to his duplicate and leaned over to look at the screen. “Yours is brand new, isn’t it! Let’s see here—I’ve ‘acquired’ all mine secondhand, they were set up a bit differently, but you *should* be able to poke this little arrow here and make like you’re sliding it over...” He leaned over and did so, demonstrating the motion. “Ha! There. It’ll want you to choose a passcode. Pick a number you like. From here on out you’ll be poking at the screen instead of the buttons, which is disconcerting, but you get used to it. I adjusted and charmed mine so I can command it with my voice, but you have to already know how the phone works before you can pull out those tricks. We’ll save *that* for lesson two.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Yes, I suppose it is! I had Kyxs get it for me, and well, he's more likely to buy one than he is to steal one, sweet, dumb heart that he has." Alastor shook his head and entered a number for his 'passcode'.

"I've seen him poke the screen before, never quite understood that, but I suppose I'll just rooooooll with the punches!" There was a sound of a crowd cheering and the ding of a boxing bell.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“I don’t understand all the science behind it, but apparently there’s a little electrical field in the glass of the screen. If anything touches it that can disturb the field, it can sense where exactly on the screen that touch is. Yadda yadda science science, and that’s how you control the phone. It looks ridiculous, prodding at a piece of glass—but it works!”

usedhearts Alastor

"Mmhmm, mmhmm!" He's just tapping at random spots on the screen now-- and look, there's a swipe! Seems like he's catching on.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He leans over again to see what his alternate is doing, if anything. He’s never had a brand new phone, he doesn’t know if after a passcode is programmed it opens straight to the window with all the little squares of tools or if it plays some sort of tutorial.

usedhearts Alastor

He's.....not actually doing anything so far, there are no squares to poke on the main part of the screen, and there are no other pages to swipe to. At least until he accidentally hits the part to pop open the full app screen.

"Oh! Would you look at that!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Ah! Something else he can help with! “Now, this here is the table of contents for the phone—except instead of a list of chapters, it’s a list of little pictures with short labels underneath. Tapping on any one of those pictures will make the phone switch stations to whatever tool that picture represents.” Are they chapters, stations, or tools, Alastor? He’s mixing metaphors pretty liberally right now.

He points at the square with a picture of a more conventional landline phone. “For instance, that one there’s the one to tap if you want your phone to *actually* work like a telephone. You’d think they’d make that one stand out a little more, wouldn’t you?”

usedhearts Alastor

He gives a snort. "You expect too much of them, I think! They're not going to do that, because how else will they make it so much more attractive to do the texting one!"

He pointed at the one that had a little envelope that was a brighter color-- which wasn't even the messaging app, but the email one! But he didn't know that. Envelope meant messages, right? Like letters?

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“That’s the secret messages one.” Alastor probably knows somewhere in the back of his head that it’s email. He doesn’t use it for “email.” He uses it to receive secret messages, which happen to be transmitted via email. “There’s the texting one—the comic strip word bubble.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Ah! I see. Yes, still, that one is also more bright than the telephone! No wonder people use that more often." He nods as if that's the answer to all of it. And then he taps the texting app, opening it on the screen. "So is this what I use to talk to the internet? The thing Kyxs uses looks different than this."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“No, texting is for writing to other people’s phones! Like exchanging Morse between two transceivers, except the phone translates the Morse back and forth into text. Flip back to the table of contents—it’s that little spot at the bottom of the phone, there.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Mm! Hm! Alright! This is the thing for private text messages?" He nods again, and does as asked, flipping back to the app screen.

"Which one is the one we're looking for, dear chum?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“That one, the circle—the colorful circle.” You’d think they’d just CALL that one “the Internet,” but no, never that easy, was it?

usedhearts Alastor

"Rainbow lollipop it is!" He taps it! Whatever will it do, he's excited to see!

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Apparently, what it will do is open a totally blank new tab. (Alastor’s actually never seen that before, when he got his phone it already had several dozen tabs open. Most of them were off-color memes or snuff porn. The joy of secondhand phones.)

usedhearts Alastor

Alastor just stares at it. And then at his alternate. And then back at the phone. And then at his alternate again.

"Well? What now?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“From here, it depends entirely on what you want to do! So tell me, other mine: what *do* you want to do? What specific goal is it you’re chasing down with this new phone of yours?”

usedhearts Alastor

"I want to join that...webbed site that all of you communicate on! It seems delightfully chaotic and endlessly entertaining! An as an added bonus, I'd get to speak to you all directly!" His static picked up for a moment before settling back to its ambient level.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Ah! In that case, tap *that* rectangle there, and... I’ll type the address for you the first time, it’s gibberish.” He pointed at the search bar. “Incidentally, how are you at blocking *you know who* from snooping in your machines?” Underneath the “you know who” is a Tesla coil-like buzz that almost sounds like *Vvvxx.* “It’s going to be essential on the Internet. We’ve got an advantage, what with the fact that the Internet sends its signals around in the air rather than through wires now—but he *owns* half the Internet. You’re never going to be able to completely relax.”

usedhearts Alastor

"I've already handled that-- Kyxs's device is blocked from _his_ interference, or snooping, with a personal blood sigil, written in the owner's own blood. It's also how I keep him from interfereing with any of my or Kyxs's broadcasts or the station in general. Before we go back, I'll add one to this--" He wiggles the phone. "And then it, too, will be secure. Or as secure as one can make these things with him around."

He taps the bar and then turns it towards his alternate. "Type away!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Good, good! There’s a few additional things you can do, but that should cover the worst of it.”

He types out, letter by individual letter, “https://www.voxblr.com/“ and then clicks “go”. “There’s a faster way to do that part—but the first time around, this will do!”

usedhearts Alastor

And there it goes! Opening the page! To a screen that says 'sign up' and 'log in'. Alastor blinks at that. And then clicks sign up? He thinks that's the right option-- oh now it's asking for an email address....

".....What now?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Right, his alternate can’t just *sign in*, he needs an *account* before he can sign in. “I’m going to assume you don’t want to share your connection to voxblr with Kyxs! Hah! So,” he gestures at the sign up page. “Some webbed sites, you can wander in and out of anonymously, doing whatever you want, without telling them a single blessed thing about who you are. Others demand you register with them before you’re allowed to see all the content—generally you have to give them a code name you’ll go by on that webbed site, an ‘email address’—sort of like a telephone number, except you can receive secret messages there—and a password you can use to prove you’re you each time you come back. I’m going to guess you don’t have an email address yet?”

usedhearts Alastor

"You guessed right! I do not! So, how do I get one of those 'e mail addresses'. I suppose I have to go to another webbed site to do it?" The tip of his tongue sticks out between smiling lips as his finger hovers over the phone-- unsure of where to tap.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

"Yes indeed! The little rectangle you enter text into to switch from web station to web station hides most of the time, you have to tap the screen near where it shows the time, see, to bring it back. And then tap on the rectangle itself to bring the typewriter back."

usedhearts Alastor

He does as instructed and there's studio applause and some ooos and awwwws as it does indeed pop back up!

"Alright, now were to go to get a ee mail!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Now, there’s quite a few places you can go to get an e-mailbox—it’s sort of like choosing which mailing service to get a PO Box at—but *most* of them are owned by you-know-who.” He reaches over to type in a new address, “https://mail.keymail.co.hel/register”. “That’s something you’ll have to watch out for—wards will keep him out of *your* phone, but your email isn’t stored inside your phone, it’s stored in some computer who-the-hell-knows-where out in the city. If you buy a mailbox from a mail service that he owns, and if he *finds out* you’ve keeping one right under his nonexistent nose—you can have as many wards on your phone as you want, but there’s nothing stopping him from rummaging through your mail when he owns the company that gave you that mailbox.”

KeyMail loads with a bunch of skeleton key motifs. Hella spooky. “*This* place isn’t owned by him, and they’ve got something in their terms of service about how they’d rather go down in flames than let him buy them out. I’d rather my mailbox someday get randomly destroyed than risk him ever seeing my mail.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh! That's certainly good to know. I wouldn't want _him_ getting near any of my E Mails. Even if I most likely won't use it beyond connecting to that...place." He chuckles. "Would rather not say the name since it has _his_ in there, sure you understand."

He starts filling out the little form, one box at a time. Name: R. Adio-- this thing wasn't getting his actual name. Age: Oh good there was a 'wouldn't you like to know f[beep] off' option! Gender: Oh also another 'f[beep] off' option, how accommodating. And then picking the......email title? Hm.

a_rdemon. There! He was all signed up!

"Oh look, there's a little message greeting me!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Oh, I understand completely! Vaggie’s gotten used to me calling it V”—*BLEEP*—“blr.” Oh, would you look at that, Alastor has the same age and gender as his alternate. How fitting! “I don’t use mine for anything but making accounts at the places that require one, either—but that doesn’t mean I’d want him finding out where I hold accounts, you know? The more breadcrumbs he has, the better his odds of finding out what what I get up to.”

He waits for his alternate to read his greeting message. It’s a weird mix of hella spooky and aggressively anarchistic.

usedhearts Alastor

"All right! I suppose now I use the little title I just made to 'sign up' with v[BLEEP]blr." Yes, he's stealing his alternate's trick! It's how the best showmen do it!!

"How do I do that?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Now, your official email address is going to be—let’s see—A-underline-R Demon, at-a-rate-of sign, keymail dot C O dot H E L. So! Proceed back to v[BLEEP]blr and put that as your email address! And choose whatever you want for the name and password.”

He sits back a bit, he figures his alternate can work it out from there. “Another word of caution—since v[BLEEP]blr is another one of *his* websites, once you make an account under that email address and start publicly identifying yourself as the Radio Demon, he can look up the information on your account; and then if you make any accounts with that email address anywhere else that he owns, he’ll know those accounts are yours, too.” A wan smile. “So, don’t expect to do anything stealthy with that address.”

usedhearts Alastor

"A good warning, thank you." He smiles wider. His tongue sticks out again as he concentrates and henpecks the words needed. Just here and there, and this and that, and then!

"Oh! Look at that, I think I've got it!" He starts playing the beginning of 'The Rain in Spain-- _I think she's got it, I think she's got it!_

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Congratulations—now you’re trapped in here with the rest of us!” He laughs. “Have you watched over Kyxs’s shoulder enough to get the gist of how this particular website works?”

usedhearts Alastor

"I think so! All these little icons at the top are different kinds of posts....but why is there nothing on the....the uh...." He thinks for a moment, trying to recall what Kyxs called it.

"The Dash?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

The *dash.* What a stupid name. But hey, it wasn’t *his* webbed site. “The only ‘posts’ that pop up are ones broadcast by the stations you’ve marked as the ones you want to listen to. You with your brand new account haven’t marked anyone yet! Here, I’ll show you how it works.”

He pulls out his own phone again and turns it back on; but instead of tapping at the screen, he *talks* to it—if the sounds coming out of his mouth can be called “talking.” It sounds more like some mix of radio static during a thunderstorm, a remixed Internet dial-up tone, impossibly fast Morse, and a summoning ritual for an unearthly god. The result is that the phone starts levitating and glowing red around the edges, types in its own passcode and unlocks, switches to the main screen, opens up the Voxblr app, and navigates straight to his alternate’s new blog, all so fast it’s nearly impossible to see all the windows flashing by.

Then Alastor catches the phone out of the air and points at the “follow” button in the corner of the screen. “There, that’s the little button you’ll need to tap.”

usedhearts Alastor

As Alastor watches this, his eyes go to radio dials and his own static kicks up. How flashy! Wonderful!

Once the lightshow is over, his eyes return to normal, and he looks at his other's screen. He taps in the url on his own to navigate to the page, and then taps the little follow button. His dash suddenly has posts! Just the other Alastor's, but there they are!

"Oh, peachy keen! Look at all this!" He starts scrolling, and it seems, on instinct taps the little hearts on the posts, one after another.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Thank you, thank you!” Hand on his chest. “It warms my cold heart to have your support!”

usedhearts Alastor

He continues to like just.....every single post. Rip Alastor's notifications. And then he pauses.

"Oh, I should probably make one of those....post things, shouldn't I?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“It’s entirely up to you! BUT! Consider this.” He slings an arm around his alternate’s shoulders conspiratorially. “Think about how shocked and surprised everyone who knows you will be when they find out you’re online, and think about how much funnier it will be the longer you’ve been online before they find out—and remember that you can only surprise them ONCE.”

usedhearts Alastor

If the corners of his smile could curl like the Grinch's, it would definitely be doing that right now. In fact! It is! Oh look at it go!

"What a deliciously devilish idea! You're very right, my good self. It would be nice to give everyone a big SURPRISE!" He laughed, audience laughter joining in.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“If I know you—and I bet I know you almost as well as I know *myself*—I’m sure you’ll make a spectacular entrance. I can’t wait to see it!”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh yes, I intend to make it quite speeeeectacular, indeed!" He did a little twirl and then posed.

And then clicked his phone dark and slid it into his jacket. "Well! Now that that's all set up, how about we get onto something more fun?"

His power surged, the station around them coming alive with hisses and static. Alastor's eyes turned to dials, and his antlers grew, the X appearing on his forehead. His body seemed to stretch like a picture on a decaying film reel-- before he snapped back to normal.

And a sweep of his hand, there was a small radio on the table now, one of those newer portable ones.

"Let's teach you how to contact the living."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

What showmanship! He sits there patiently, enjoying the show and the feeling of a familiar sort of power rushing over him.

“Oh, isn’t that darling!” He props his chin in his hands and lays almost flat on the table to admire it more closely. “Is this little one Bee?”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh no, Bee lives in my pocket!" He produces the ittiest bittiest, teeniest tiniest radio ever from his pocket before tucking her back inside.

"This one I call Robert." He patted the small radio affectionately. "Robert here is from the living world, so working on connecting to him should help start you on the path to being able to listen in to the living world's radios!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Alastor’s eyes bug out. Look at that little thing! The studio audience coos and “aww”s appreciatively.

“Oh, that’s the easy part! Dimension of origin is no issue for me—all it takes is a little...” He snaps a finger. The dials twist on. The radio hums, glowing red from the inside. “*There.*” Alastor’s voice comes from both his mouth and the radio’s speaker. “It’s *reaching* the radios that’s an issue—the ones in the mortal realm are so very far away, after all.”

usedhearts Alastor

Ah yes, another Alastor struck by the cuteness of Bee, good.

He watched him and nodded. "I see! We're very similar in that way then, connecting to any radio, regardless of origin. Alright, the other piece to the puzzle is--"

He summoned his microphone-staff, took a few steps, did a twirl, and then FLOURISH! His arms extended out towards the broadcasting room around them, his microphone pointing high.

"--THIS! A broadcasting center like this, I'm sure you have one similar in your own Hell, your personal one! But I find it makes things so much easier to connect to those far off radios."

He strutted his way back over, twirling his microphone like a baton. "But that's not all-- It takes a lot of our power, and some sigils-- quite a few, actually! Let me show you the first."

His hand clenched tight in the air between them, and his microphone disappeared, as he opened his hand, blood pooling in his palm. Using his freed right hand, he dipped a finger and began to draw on the table, a complicated sigil.

"Now, you're going to want to make this a more permanent fixture in your broadcasting station-- wouldn't want to have to draw this every time, but I bet you knew that already." He winked at his duplicate as he finished, taking a step back.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Alastor watched as his alternate drew the sigil—but only half of his attention was on it. The other half was on the broadcasting center. He kept glancing up, looking at the equipment.

“So the station’s a prerequisite, is it? Can’t reach all the way to the mortal realm just by broadcasting out of yourself?”

usedhearts Alastor

"No!" He said it so cheerily, and then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone.

"It helps when you're starting out, but once you practice enough, you'll be able to do it without one."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Ah,” he said, somewhat subdued. “So! I suppose I’d better copy this down, hadn’t I!” He opened a portal, rummaged through it for his grimoire, and flipped to a blank page to start copying it down. “Impressive design! Your own, I take it?”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh yes, absolutely. I've refined it over the years. You should've seen it when I first tried it, it was a MESS." He laughed, the audience joining in.

"Once you're done with that one..." He summoned up another table, and drew more blood, beginning the next one. "I have two more to show you! The three work in conjunction."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Solid number,” he muttered, most of his focus still on copying the first sigil perfectly; and then, once it was finished, moved on to the next one.

usedhearts Alastor

And once he started on the second, another table was summoned and the third being drawn! Once it was fully there, Alastor stepped back, hands behind his back.

"The Three Sigils all represent a certain thing." He pointed to the first. "Connection." The second. "Communication."

And the third. "The most important of all: Life. I've been trying to workshop them all into one sigil, but so far no luck. They work best painted in blood, the caster's is preferable, of course. But! You can make it out of other materials that are more permanent and then simply soak them in your blood and that should hold the charge. Refreshing of the blood needs to happen occasionally, but it's preferable to having to redo the entire sigil."

He walked slowly back towards his other, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Size doesn't matter with them, as long as they're drawn or formed correctly, which is why...."

Alastor leaned in close, pretending to look around them for other listeners before whispering. "I made them into this, to carry with me."

From under his shirt, he pulled a necklace of the three sigils, each its own circle, connected together at the edges to form one pendant. They seemed to be made of steel, and were tinged a dark red, most likely from blood.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

"*Life.*" He let out a low whistle as he copied that one. "No doubt you can do some dangerous things in the land of the dead with a sigil that represents life."

He'd figured out how to reach sideways into other Hells without the connection/communication sigils; maybe if he could work out what made other Hells more accessible and replicate that, he could apply it to this process? Simplify the first two sigils into something that could be patched on to life? He could experiment with that later. Walk before you run.

He admired the pendant. "Isn't that handsome! A slick little portable option."

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh certainly, some very devious delightful dangerous things!" He laughed, his audience joining in. He tucked away his pendent, walking around all three of the tables in a slow circle.

"Once you have all three, and a broadcasting point, it should be fairly easy to tap into the living world. You'll be stuck with places where bloodshed happened, or which have strong negative energies, and at first you'll probably be reduced to strictly the New Orleans area. That's where I had to start, and then slowly expanded my range."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“That sounds like a plus to me! There’s nowhere I’d rather start! Are there any more little tricks to it than that? Rituals to perform, intentions I should keep my focus on, that sort of thing?”

usedhearts Alastor

"Other than focusing on radios, which is generally easy for us, not particularly! Though, I'd try to tune to whichever frequency that you use most, that familiarity helps." A chair appeared and he sat on it, putting his feet back up. "Why not give it a whirl?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Oh, I doubt it would work from here, would it? Considering where we are!” Temporarily in the living realm, but on an alien planet, time traveled to a point long before the human race existed. “At a minimum, I’d think it would take different sigils! Something to reach across time and space rather than across life and death.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Hm! Yes, suppose you're right." He shrugged and scratched one of his claws against the table top.

"Perhaps just practicing the sigils then? Perfecting them is key." Alastor seemed to consider something and then sat up, leaning his elbows on the table, his face perched on the back of his hands.

"I _have_ been working on a time sigil, though. It's nowhere near usable yet, but...." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing turning his smile more devious.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“No no, I wouldn’t want to waste your time watching me *practice!* How boring that would be for you!” He snapped his grimoire shut. “I’ll try this out sometime soon after we’re back in Hell and let you know how it goes.”

He gave his other an intrigued look. “Oho? Well, don’t leave me in *suspense*—do tell me more!”

usedhearts Alastor

Alastor's grin widened-- how did he keep doing that?-- and laced his fingers on the table.

"Since I already had this down, things were starting to get boring, especially with how easily people get caught nowadays. So I decided, well! What if I just peeked into the past instead? And so I've been working on it..."

He trailed off, waving his hand to get rid of the sigil on the table he sat at. Another wave of his hand, and he held a knife, which he used to carve in the beginnings of another sigil. Obviously he'd gotten tired of using his blood.

"I've been trying to find the right lines and curves to get it to work right, but so far no such luck."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Isn’t that all magic is,” he said, almost absentmindedly as he studied the design. “Looking for the ‘right’ lines and curves—and half the time it turns out they don’t exist until you invent them...” After another couple seconds, he pulled a loose paper out of his grimoire and copied down the unfinished design. “I could take a stab at it, if you don’t mind!”

usedhearts Alastor

"Not at all, my good self!" He chuckled, tracing his finger over the unfinished glyph. Alastor muttered some words to himself, his voice echoing in static and doubled, his eyes flashing to dials for a hot second.

"Magic is a passion I wish I'd indulged sooner. The things I could've done."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He gave his other a surprised glance. "Oh? When did you start?"

usedhearts Alastor

"Not until a few years before my death. I was a late bloomer, in a lot of respects." He laughed, but there was a bitter tinge to it.

"I was a bit frantic, towards the end, too messy. It's why I got caught. Why I died." He leaned back, putting his feet back up onto the table. "But now I don't have to worry about any of that."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

So late! It was remarkable that he'd gotten as much done as he did. "I think we all got frantic toward the end, didn't we? There are some hungers that just get worse the more you try to feed them." He gave his other a grim smile. "I wasn't out hunting the day after Christmas for the joy of it, after all."

usedhearts Alastor

"And I wasn't dragging a body into the swamps outside my little shack on Christmas Eve for the fun of it, either!" He laughed, but it's strained. It was so much easier writing about these things in letters, than speaking them aloud.

"It still surprises me how close our Deathdays are. With all our differences, _that's_ what's almost the same."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

The nice thing about saying it out loud was that once it was said, it was gone. You couldn't stare at the words over and over. They vanished.

"The multiverse moves in mysterious ways. I suppose it points to some key similarity, doesn't it?" Like the kind of desperation that could drive a man out into the cold so near Christmas just to end another life.

usedhearts Alastor

"I suppose it does. Makes you wonder what else we have in common." He turned his head to look at his other self. The same smile was on their lips, and neither one ever moved an inch-- wasn't that similarity enough?

He pointed at Alastor's hair. "Was your hair brown when you were alive?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“It was.” He ran his fingers self-consciously through his bangs—freshly re-dyed brown, but the red was already coming back in at the roots. “And wavy, but for some reason dye sticks, perms don’t. I’ll still finger-wave it from time to time, but...” But it took so much effort.

He nodded at his other. “Yours?”

usedhearts Alastor

"Black. Wavy too. Usually kept it oiled and combed down. Mother would always mess it up, though. Would say it made me look too 'normal'." His smile turned fond, his eyes dreamy and far away.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

His smile softened. “She always did think I was special.” She was *right,* too—but most other people needed convincing. “I kept it the same, oiled up and slicked back—but I always combed a wave into it. I couldn’t stand looking like I had straight hair. I had my mother’s hair, and I was proud of it.”

usedhearts Alastor

Eyes and smile both brighten and he leaned forward, towards his other. "I did the same! And I...had the same. Her hair. People always used to say I was her spitting image!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Ha! Oh, yes! I took after Ma and Pa about equally—but you could tell whose boy I was. Nobody ever doubted that.”

usedhearts Alastor

His expression soured a bit-- as much as it could with the smile still there-- at the mention of a _Pa_.

"Ah, so I suppose yours stuck around?"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Tricky question. “He and Ma were always friends. I spent summers with his side of the family and he stayed with us whenever he was in New Orleans. I suppose you didn’t have a relationship worth remembering with yours?” He’d found that most of his alternates didn’t, of the ones willing to talk about their father at all. Either their father had been absent, or else he *should* have been.

usedhearts Alastor

He nods. "Mine...." Boy, where to start with that. "Mine was from a richer family. White. Old French blood, but not Creole like Maman. Maman was his mistress, he was married already when they met. When she got pregnant with me, well, he offered to pay for my care, schooling, what have you, but said that otherwise, he'd have no contact. Not as bad as some out there, but anyone would get bitter knowing that much even."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He laughed dryly. “Ah—my apologies, it’s not funny—but mine *looked* the same from the outside. Pa’s family’s probably lived on the same plot of land since the Cajuns got kicked out of Canada, Ma was a Creole in New Orleans, he came into town a few weeks a year on business, and here I am living with Ma while he goes back home—well! People made assumptions.” He shook his head. “But no. They both wanted a child, so they agreed to make one. They *decided* to have me. I was their *choice.*”

He paused, trying to figure out how one talk show host expresses sympathy to another. You can’t get tender on air. Softer words hurt more. Finally, awkwardly, he said, “You ought to have had that much, too.”

usedhearts Alastor

He chuckled too, leaning back in his chair, his arms going behind his head. The picture of relaxation.

"I might not have been a choice, but Maman wanted me, and she kept me and loved me. What boy could ask for more? And we didn't want for anything. Unlike some deadbeats, my Father at least made good on his child support!" Another, bitter tasting laugh.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Well, there’s something, all right! I’ve met versions of us that got it a lot worse than that.” That was enough digging into a sore subject. Time to nudge it back over into safer territory. “On the other hand, I’ve never met one of us who wasn’t close with our mother—no matter what other differences we may have. Something to her credit, isn’t it?”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh, certainly! Woman was a saint, especially to raise us like she did! We were wily little tykes! Or, well, _I_ was, not sure about you, my fellow!" He laughed, the audience joining in.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Hah! I was talking to ghosts before I could walk and killing animals when most of my schoolmates were discovering kissing. I was an absolute handful!” He paused. “Although she never found out about the animals. I hope.”

usedhearts Alastor

He visibly flinched when his other mentioned about her finding out, and for once his smile wavers eeeeever so slightly.

"Ah! I suppose yours never did find out about your endeavours, hm? I'm...fairly certain mine did." And it went without saying that it _broke his heart_ that she had. His feet thump off the table and he stands, a bit too quickly, clearing his throat as he turns around. Alastor started to walk-- or maybe more _stalk_ around the station.

"That was one reason I was so desperate to get some contact with the living world. To see what she'd learned. I was never able to find out-- took too long, by the time I worked it all out, a few years had passed and she wasn't in New Orleans anymore, as far as I could tell. In what state she left it....I don't know."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

He’d struck another nerve. At least it was a mutual one, not him trodding on something his alternate was sore about that he couldn’t relate to.

He leaned forward on one of the tables, crossing his arms. “As far as I know, she never did. I can’t tell you how many books of unsolved crimes I’ve gotten smuggled out of the mortal realm just to make sure that my is still unsolved. But—I don’t *know.* She’ll know that the murders stopped after I died. If she starts digging, she could have realized I was never home on any day a murder took place—and I was honest with her about which hunting site I was at a few too many times before I thought to start lying. She would have had to clean out my things—she could have found my demonology books. If she opened my grimoire, she would have found out who I’d been bargaining with. She couldn’t hear our ancestors directly the way I could, but *they* certainly knew what I was up to, they might have gotten a message to her...”

Deep breath in. Long sigh out. “The cops never figured it out. But *she* might have and kept it to herself. I’ll probably never find out. But—good God, I hope she didn’t.”

usedhearts Alastor

"I pray she didn't as well. At least one of our Mothers would've been spared." He gives a dry, weak chuckle, moving slowly, his hand dragging across the wood. And then he traces the sigil on the table. It was the one for Connection.

"For the longest while I refused to engage with any of her beliefs. The spirits and the like, I thought it was all hogswash. Until I started getting haunted by those I killed. I started seeing them, hearing them, and I tried everything to get them to leave me be. I knew it wasn't a guilty consience-- I didn't feel guilt, still don't-- so I knew they were real. That's why I got so frantic, at the end. I tried all I could to get he spirits to leave me be, even stopped killing for a while, but I couldn't resist. And by that time, the coppers were onto me, and well...."

He sighed and spread his hands in front of him.

"_C'est la vie._"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

A version of him that had been an atheist. It was hard to believe. “I was the opposite. I could hear them from the time I was born. Maybe even before—Ma told me that while she was pregnant, she’d heard a spirit sing to her. She thinks he was there for me. Almost all of them were family. I was *always* surrounded by family.” He watched his other trace the lines.

“When I started killing, they stopped talking to me. No ancestors. No ghostly victims. Nobody. Maybe they’d have forgiven me if I stopped, but... *I couldn’t resist.*” He crossed his arms a little tighter. “*C’est la vie.*”

usedhearts Alastor

Alastor lifted his hands, holding up his index finger on each, and held them an equal distance apart.

"_Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene..._" He quoted, turning his smile to his other.

"Opposite and yet the same, you and I. I know you were only the first of myself I've met, but it seems to me that we compliment one another on strange levels. If we're not similar, we're opposites. If we're not opposite, we're similar. Perhaps we two are the Caduceus, twirling around Hermes' staff, twining our tails as we reach for the sun and moon..."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

"A poetic image!" He laughed. "I've found that most of us tend to harmonize in one way or another. Although sometimes it sounds more like a tritone than a perfect fifth!"

usedhearts Alastor

A hum of static and a hum of his voice join as he nods. He moved around the table, hopping up to sit on it, his ankle propping up on his knee.

"Can't have a song without poetry first! And I find myself on a similar frequency to you more often than not!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Hm—can’t you? Which came first, the lyric or the melody? A philosophical question for the ages!” He straightens up and turns around so he can half lean back against the table. “I’ve certainly met versions of me that make for far worse company than you! You, my friend, are a keeper.”

usedhearts Alastor

His brows arched and he laughed. "Yes, quite the conundrum, you're right!"

Putting a hand to his chest, he waved the other at his double. "Oh, you flatter me, when you're the one who's a keeper, certainly! Can't think of a better other version of myself to spend time with!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Ha! I’ll take that as a compliment—but how many have you met so far? That’s not to say I’m not fine company, but don’t sell short the multitude of options out there without having ever met them! Why, you’re just taking your first steps into a whole new world!”

usedhearts Alastor

"That's very true-- the only other ones I've seen are those you invited to that lovely little shindig you had on Christmas! And then again, the other one that came along here-- Rhedd, I think he calls himself!" He shrugged a bit and leaned back against his hands.

"Rhedd's a card, though, isn't he? And odd one of an Alastor! Something about him rubs me like sandpaper, and I can't quite put my finger on it."

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

Alastor laughed. “If I had to hazard a guess, I think it might have something to do with his wardrobe.” He played a couple seconds of smooth jazz and comically unconvincing moans. “I don’t think he’s all that odd for one of us, truth be told—he *looks* it, sure, but talk to him a bit and beneath the paper bag and strange sweaters, he’s not so different.”

usedhearts Alastor

"I suspect you're right!" He chuckled. "And I'll take your word on that! Haven't had the chance myself to talk with him more than a few words. I'll have to correct that soon!"

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

“Invite him over for dinner sometime! I’m sure he’d be overjoyed.”

There wasn’t anything new to copy, he probably should stow his grimoire. He opened a portal put it away. “Thank you for the little magic lesson, by the way! I’ll let you know how it works.”

usedhearts Alastor

"Oh, of course! My pleasure!" He hopped off the table and gave a little bow.

"And I'll make a note of that! I do love making dinner for guests." He threw a wink his alternate's way.

dontasktheradiodemon Alastor

"I can't agree more! I don't know what I enjoy more, being the host or the guest, hah!" He returned the slight bow. "I should probably swing by the kitchen, in fact, I left an experiment in progress. Have fun with your new toy—do feel free to contact me if you have any further questions about it!"

usedhearts Alastor

"I will! So long, Alastor!" He waves and settled back into the first chair, taking out the phone to fiddle with.

#extermination party palace #usedhearts #chat log

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lewlthea · 5 years ago

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The Actual Thing Going On With Edelgard Von Hresvelg.

Spoilers: It’s not fascism, nor racism (at least not in the way people think). Also, actual spoilers for the game.

If there has been a controversial character in Fire Emblem Three Houses, it’s Edelgard Von Hresvelg, one of the game’s main three lords, the house leader of the Black Eagles, the princess and sole heir of the Adrestian Empire, and an antagonist in every single route but hers. She has been a polarizing figure within the community: Some people think she’s an irredeemable monster, others think she’s a misunderstood leader. When it comes to Edelgard, theres hardly a grey opinion towards her; She’s either black or white. Today, I wanna talk about Edelgard’s actions towards the 4 routes, what they actually portray, and how and why the entire discourse towards her was caused deliberately by Intelligent System’s incredible mishandling and mistreatment of the character.

I remember Nintendo’s 2018 E3 conference quite well. I was at with a group of friends, watching at one of them’s house because he had a bigger TV. I remember making jokes about how “there was going to be a new Fire Emblem” because loving Fire Emblem when Intelligent Systems is Like That is a living nightmare.

And then this happens.

youtube

Words could not express the joy I felt when the trailer was over. It wasn’t just a new Fire Emblem game: We were going to have another lady lord, and an axe-wielding one at that - something the fanbase had been desperately craving since the recent surge in Hector’s popularity - and for once, it was like when I first found out that there would be a new female character in Shadows Of Valentia with Faye, and it was the tipping point for me to finally buy a Nintendo Switch.

Of course, just like Faye, things weren’t that simple.

Because some months before E3 2019, which promised to reveal more info on Fire Emblem 3 Houses, Reddit exploded. All because of someone who goes by the username Thanibomb, who claimed to have leaked info on the game, saying a lot of information about all the characters, some of them very questionable (With things such as Lysithea would die due to her crest complications, and it would cause the major 5-year war, and other things like Claude being the one who shot Dimitri’s eye off), while other info being oddly specific. A part of it that made me particularly chuckle was when such user said that Dimitri would have lost an eye, and would cover it with an eyepatch. I found it so silly and, along with some friends, claimed it to be fake and carried on.

And then E3 2019 happened.

youtube

And Dimitri had an eyepatch.

And still, even after Thanibomb, things remained optimistic. All lords looked nice, they seemed to have their own ideals, their own paths, and no fights were breaking out within the fanbase yet. But then early copies were sent to reviewers. And then 4chan got a hold of one of those. And then the main leaks started. And by the time the game got released, it was too late. The amount of hate comments towards the character was so overwhelming; some calling Edelgard a fascist, others claiming that she was racist, others even saying that she gives racist remarks towards Claude ingame (a blatant lie). A personal favorite comment of mine was how Hubert and Edelgard looked like the perfect alt-right couple.

(Should I remark that these kinds of comments stopped as soon as they found out that Hubert could A-support Ferdinand, and most of them moved on to fetishize the relationship between the two of them instead. Ironically, before that happened people despised Hubert in general solely because of his unusual appearance and shady behavior, but that was soon seen as ‘nuanced’ the moment he could be paired off with another man.)

And so, a fight between the fanbase begun: (Mostly) Blue Lion fans bashing Edelgard’s character, Black Eagle fans defending her vehemently, and Golden Deer fans between either on any of those sides or just making memes for Joe Zieja’s rally campaign for the GD. Mostly the latter. But that’s beside the point.

A (Kinda) Brief Summary of Edelgard’s Presence In Azure Moon, Verdant Wind, And Silver Snow.

Throughout the game’s second part, unless you’re playing the Crimson Flower Route, Edelgard will always be an antagonist who cannot be spared, and she cannot survive unless it’s in her own route. However, the way she is percieved changes depending on each route you are making, with each route leaving small fragments depicting Edelgard’s past and shaping her character in full scale.

In Verdant Wind/Silver Snow, Edelgard isn’t the final boss. She is one of the bosses before the big fight. (Nemesis in Claude’s case, Rhea in Seteth’s). She’s one of the obstacles, but not the main one, therefore there is not much insight on her character; However, there is still one element present in those routes that is curiously omitted from Azure Moon that is the reason why she doesn’t really have too much focus, that being Hubert’s final letter.

In both routes, Hubert seems to highly respect Seteth/Claude’s prowess in the war and their cunning mind. (Especially Claude; Throughout both Verdant Wind and Crimson Flower, he commends Claude’s tactics and strategies multiple times). In the letter, he gives the location of where Rhea is confined and asks them to eliminate Those Who Slither in the Dark, the game’s true villains and the ones behind most, if not all the game’s tragic events. Even more curiously, though, is the fact that the letter does exist on the Crimson Flower route, and can be seen briefly on Hubert’s B support with Ferdinand, being the reason of their argument throughout the conversation. Not a single mention of the letter exists in the Azure Moon Route. (Of course it would not make sense for it to exist gameplay-wise due to the player having already murdered Arundel/Thales earlier in the game but. It’s still something to be accounted for).

Speaking of Azure Moon, this is a much more trickier route to talk about. Not only due to the fact that Edelgard is this route’s final boss, but also because all of the things we discover about Edelgard within it are never mentioned in any other route, only brief mentions about the time she spent in the Kingdom; nothing more.

In here, her time spent on the Kingdom is expanded: Both Edelgard, her mom Patricia and Arundel were sent off to Faerghus due to exile, with Patricia being set off to marry King Lambert. There, she meets Dimitri, and they both become fast friends. By the time she has to leave, Dimitri gifts her with a dagger (Which, in Faeghus, are important gifts that mean ‘to cut a path towards a better future’), and she returns to Adrestia. Some time after she leaves the Tragedy of Duscurr happens, caused by Those Who Slither in the Dark. However, due to a misunderstanding caused by eavesdropping on a conversation between Thales and the Flame Emperor, Dimitri mistakenly believes that the Flame Emperor was behind it all, and once the Flame Emperor’s identity is finally revealed to be Edelgard, she is instantly demonized and called a ‘witch’, even though she openly declares how she had nothing to do with it. This goes on until Rodrigue’s death and Cornelia’s reveal that Patricia was the one behind the Duscurr Tragedy so she could return to the Empire and “reunite with her daughter”. (We never find out about what happened to her and she is not mentioned during the Crimson Flower). Dimitri tries to talk Edelgard off their final confrontation, but Edelgard insists that it is far too late for her to back down for their ideals are far too different, and she refuses to live in a world where the Church of Seiros exists. Dimitri then hands back her dagger (Which she accidentally dropped before the timeskip), and they both retreat to prepare for the final battle.

This route’s final boss is an Edelgard who was absorbed direct power from Those Who Slither in the Dark, and adquires a grotesque, corrupted form. No other character in the canon possess such a thing, and only Edelgard can assume such form. Once she is defeated, Dimitri tries once again to spare her, only for Edelgard to stab him with the dagger, making Dimitri realize that she would never give up on her dream, and finally kills her.

An Even More Brief Explanation of What Does All of This Means.

Okay, all of that info was nice, fun, good, yadda yadda. What does this mean and why was it needed.

Well, for starters, let’s ask ourselves a question: After reading the summary, can you say that you know what drives her to seek out the destruction of the church?

What is her reasoning behind the unification of Fodlan?

Do we get anything out of her other than “Scary dictator” or “An obstacle that had to be sadly removed” or “Under better circumstances... We could’ve been Allies (tm)”?

We don’t. Because Intelligent Systems did not bother to show Edelgard’s motivations, despite her being the villain in almost all the routes.

During Verdant Wind and Silver Snow, Edelgard herself does not matter: she’s solely important because she is threatening the church, she is your scary big bad dictator that you have to beat in order to rescue Rhea, only to find out that in reality she was just a stepping stone to the real villains, Those Who Slither in the Dark. (In game it is said that Hubert came up with this name. In my humble opinion Hubert can go fuck himself because this is the shittiest name I have ever seen and I am tired of having to type this five word long thing every paragraph or so). As soon as you read the letter, suddenly Edelgard, the Empire, and all the questions you had as to why she Did It dissappear because now you have another objective, another goal.

This is even more offensive during Azure Moon because she is the focus, the final boss, but it doesn’t matter why she did all of this nor what her ideals actually are despite them being the reason why she cannot be spared. The game would rather focus on getting reactions out of the player when the intimidating big meanie does something that makes Dimitri go angry than actually focusing on the clashing of Dimitri and Edelgard’s ideals, why they cannot go back to what it once was, what happened to her to change this way, why did ‘El’ actually die. All you have is a dictator in red which does things for no reason other than “I will destroy the Church and unify Fodlan so I can govern over all of it”. Nothing more, nothing less.

....Of course, you do realize that I have avoided to talk about a certain thing.

So, About That Crimson Flower Route...

If there is a way to truly understand a villain, one must walk on such person’s footsteps. Most people criticizing Edelgard were the ones who hadn’t played her route yet, or had only played Azure Moon and was led to believe that all of Edelgard’s actions are unwarranted or pure nonsense.

There is a reason why people sing their tune differently as soon as they experience the Crimson Flower.

For starters, to be able to fight for Edelgard, you have to first have her support up to C+, go with her to Enbarr once she asks of you, and then defend her from Rhea at the Holy Tomb. The reasoning behind that is so that you fully understand what Edelgard has gone through and the reason why she cannot agree with the existence of the Church.

The Azure Moon route tells you of Edelgard before she returned to the Empire.

It never tells you what caused her to change after she went back.

Edelgard was part of the crest experimentations caused by Those Who Slither in the Dark, alongside all her siblings. Her father, the emperor, was unable to do anything about it, as the real people in control of the Empire were Arundel/Thales and Duke Aegir. Being the sole survivor of such things to return to society and see how everything is defined by whether you have a crest or not and finding out that the Church, who instead of breaking down such system to favor equality would rather turn the creatures who run it into figures to be worshipped is. Something.

There’s another reason for Edelgard’s sudden betrayal, a more sinister one, and why she feels like everything needs to be done in a quick pace. In her C+ you find out she has a second crest, The Crest of Flames, just like the player. People who bear two crests have a shortened lifespam, however.

When Edelgard declares war against the Church, and to unite Fódlan, it’s not solely because ‘Church bad’: She declares war against the unfair crest system, against the hypocrisy of Rhea’s dragon entourage, and of course, to destroy Those Who Slither in the Dark later on the road.

However.

Just because Edelgard’s behavior is justified, does not mean she is 100% in the right. She herself admits that the path she follows is one drenched in blood. But there are several times in the game that makes you stop and think for a second that she can still make bad decisions, and that sometimes her decisions might have horrible consequences. One of them is for example to never take away Brigid’s status as a vassal to the Empire and return it back to it’s former glory as an actual country, which shows how the entire Brigid kerfuffle is something akin to colonization. We should also point out that when she unifies Fodlan, in some endings she remains the Emperor, completely missing the point of what she fought for.

Another case that shows one of Edelgard’s biggest flaws is with the Silver Maiden incident.

Edelgard had just conquered Arianrhod, the Silver Maiden, and due to murdering Cornelia, enrages Ariandel/Thales, whom causes the situation above out of a show of power. She knows it was Those Who Slither in the Dark, but she needs to give explanations fast and she can’t reveal their identity or else they would slip away and it would be impossible to locate them and destroy them. So what does she do?

She says it was Rhea who did it, actively lying to her closest allies, one of them being the Prime Minister of the Empire.

For Edelgard, the ends justifies the means, and as long as she gets the results she wants, she will do what it takes. Even by alienation. And that’s a dangerous way to go on.

...So, where do I want to go from here? Who is to blame for the hatefest Edelgard is receiving?

Intelligent Systems Kind of Didn’t Know What To Do With Edelgard.

Now hold on. That sounds a bit too harsh, don’t you think? She was the first lord shown in the E3 2018 trailer, they have placed a very big emphasis on Edelgard everywhere hell the game’s main theme is about her, why would you claim that??

Well, first and foremost, I should start by saying that Crimson Flower is the game’s shortest route, with the total of 18 chapters. From those 18 chapters, there is only one cutscene, with most of the route’s major events being shown with either the game’s basic models or still images.

For comparison, Verdant Wind has the total of 8 cutscenes, counting the final one before the timeskip, with 3 of them being unique to its route.

Azure Moon has the total of 5 cutscenes, 3 of them being unique to its route.

Silver Snow has 4 cutscenes, having 2 unique ones to its route.

The other two main lords have several support options with people outside of their respective houses; Edelgard only has one.

Remember when I said that one of Edelgard’s main enemies are Those Who Slither in the Dark? The game never lets her deal with them personally. You never truly fight them during Crimson Flower.

In a way, the game feels as if while Edelgard is the focus, you shouldn’t side with her. It really makes it feel as if someone at Intelligent Systems just snickered and said ‘Hey wouldn’t it be cool if we could let our players side with/date our villain?’ without even considering or respecting such villain’s motivations, her ideals, and what truly makes a character unique.

In the end, all they truly cared for was if Edelgard was romanceable enough for the player, not if she made sense or was appealing as a character, whether as a villain or a savior.

And considering how the fanbase is behaving towards Edelgard, they succeeded.

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem 3 houses #fe edelgard #i spent an entire night writing this #my neck hurts so badly

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aftermathdb · 5 years ago

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We’re about to get insane!

Oh joy… They’re communicating through memes.

Deadpool′s Preview.

So we all know Deadpool. He’s been here a few times, and to be honest at this point, you either love him or you hate him.

Yadda Yadda Yadda, Blah blah blah, they probably should’ve saved this for next season because this is almost tiring at this point. We know what this guy’s done and what he’s capable of.

At least he’s not Batman with a legion of fanboys who would spout racist drivel over a result like Batman vs. Black Panther. Did you know that they’re still raging about that?- Crazy, right?

Wade’s got your standard superhuman arsenal of powers. Strength, speed, durability, and his (in)famous healing factor.

Now, to be fair, most of this is because of that old curse Thanos put on him, but frankly, it’s still hard to put him down for good.

But it’s at this point that Wiz and Boomstick start making some jokes at DP’s expense.

Heh heh. Yeah. But jokes aside, Wade has an impressive arsenal of weapons and feats.

He once dodged electricity, which if it’s anything like actual electricity, should move like it.

He’s tanked massive explosions and pulled down helicopters.

His healing factor isn’t perfect though. You may have noticed that he often reattaches his limbs, and that’s mostly because it’s easier than letting them grow back.

But at the end of the day, Deadpool is one hell of a fighter. It’s going to take a lot to take him down.

Meanwhile, enjoy this equation that determines how annoying deadpool is. His end quote is one from the preview.

The Mask′s Preview.

The mask we wear to conceal our desires is a strange one. But there exists a mask that reveals it. AKA: The Mask.

Many stories surround this strange mask.

Some say it was used in ancient tribal rituals in Africa,

while others say it was created by Loki, the Norse god of mischief.

Either way, it ended up in the hands of local loser Stanly Ipkiss.

He then donned The Mask, which gave him superpowers!

But don’t let the movie(s) fool you. This guy is a violent sociopath who is basically there to spread chaos. And he has all sorts of supernatural powers.

(Boomstiick punches Pinkie away, and I just opt out of showing it because how dare he hurt the best pony? (She was voiced by Emily Fajardo, for those of you curious))

Anyways, with Toon Force on his side, The Mask has quite the arsenal.

He can manipulate physics, read minds, and do all sorts of crazy stuff.

And thanks to this, he can basically say “no” to damage.

He once raced Lobo around the planet and then crashed into him.

Given the speed they would have to be going at to make this visual, they would be moving at about 9,635,088 meters per second.

The only way to really beat the Mask would be to get it off the user. But given how much power it gives a person, who’s really going to?

The Mask is a powerful force that no one should ever have to contend with.

The Battle Itself.

The animators are the RT 2D animation team. Deadpool will be reprised by Curtis Arnott (Takahata101) and Mask will be voiced by Kyle Igneczi, Goodbye Chimmichanga by Therewolf, and audio is led by Chris Kokkinos.

So, the battle… It um, It starts rather interestingly.

So Deadpool “lands“ and then The Mask appears.

Let’s just put it this way: It gets CRAZY Like really crazy. They shoot at each other, and then Deadpool breaks the fourth wall (literally) to grab his continuity gem.

He brags about how it can let him make it so that Mask didn’t put on the mask while also “correcting” mistakes as some 2D-Hand-Drawn panels of previous battles flow by. Probably as a “Take That” to the people who threw temper tantrums over it.

Surprisingly, Ben 10 vs. Green Lantern wasn’t among them. Considering how easy of a target the detractors could have made considering that I am pretty confident that a lot of them fell into the “I didn’t watch the rundowns or the explanations, but I’m pissed off” category- I’m getting off-topic here.

Basically, Deadpool blows the budget.

So what are they to do?

This (Deadpool double is Sam, Mask double is Kyle Taylor).

So after they get enough money back, they wind up doing a standoff.

Finishinng blow coming up… in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Now, unfortunately, Deadpool can’t do much, so he goes out gracefully.

Verdict + Explanation.

So the hosts, while initially happy that Wade’s gone, feel really empty about the whole thing.

The only real edge Wade had was in experience, but he was outclassed in power.

Pushing over a building and tanking that explosion with Lobo blows Deadpool’s feats out of the water.

And since Wade had no real way of beating The Mask, he was out of options. The Mask could pretty much just will things to happen, like a bomb that could beat Deadpool’s healing factor.

The hosts admit that it was a stomp and that they went too far in pushing Deadpool to his limits. To which they receive a letter from Wade that details how they managed to get him to see how fame had changed him, and how he wants to thank them for getting him back to his roots…

NAAAAHHH! HA ha!

But seriously, the winner is the Mask. I guess he just likes Wade too much to let him stay dead.

Overall impression.

In all honesty, this was… a trip. I’m not going to give it a rating mostly because this feels like a story battle rather than a DEATH BATTLE.

It’s clever, it helps develop the characters more, and it’s honestly good fun… So long as you don’t find Deadpool annoying or anything. If you do, then you’re kinda out of luck. But I guess it might also make people feel bad about wanting Deadpool to get into a stomp battle for the sole purpose of shutting him up, so… yeah.

Like I said: No rating. This is a story. And a pretty damn good one at that.

Next Time…

Well, at least I don’t have to bring out my Galactus chapter yet. But this feels more like… Season premiere material. This also isn’t helped by the fact that I haven’t watched MHA and that I’m not even a fan of Naruto.

But whatever. Let’s get ready for a Mightily awesome fight!

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

Might Makes Right (I swear, if this isn’t the inspiration of the name of the song, I’m going to be slightly disappointed).

#Death Battle #Deathbattle #review

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singingwordwright · 6 years ago

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My 3x20 Malec prediction (warning for potential book-based spoilers)

So, I still haven’t had a chance to go through my big mega-speculation post and tally up my hits and misses. There have been a lot of moments where I got fairly close to the mark but wasn’t entirely accurate (frex: Alec’s DID make a deal with Asmodeus to get Magnus’s magic back and it DID result in Asmodeus escaping his banishment, but undoing the banishment wasn’t actually Asmodeus’s price for restoring Magnus’s magic or the result of the Malec separation.)

Still, going into the finale, I have a suspicion of how it’s going to play out, so I’m going to document it to see if any of it pans out.

For those of you who are new and don’t really know me, this is just a game I play with myself, not anything I take very seriously. I don’t mind being wrong when it happens, except for those times when I feel like it would have made a better story if I’d been right (Robert Lightwood, I’m looking at YOU.) Sometimes I hit it precisely on the head (I predicted Magnus’s deal with Asmodeus after 3x07 aired) and sometimes I’m WAY off the mark (*sigh* my whole Aldertree/Sebastian theory.) Take it with a grain of salt.

Under a cut for potential book-based spoilers.

So, 3x20 is titled “City of Glass”, which is the title of one of the books, and I think we need to take some of our cues from there where Malec is concerned. Obviously, they’ve already had their Alec-coming-out-via-big-public-snog moment back in season 1, but there’s another semi-iconic Malec moment we haven’t seen play out on the show, and I think this is where we’ll get some variation of it.

The good news is, I’m pretty sure Malec are going to reconcile BEFORE what would have been the s3/s4 hiatus, had the show not been cancelled. They weren’t going to leave us with Malec broken up, thank God.

We know from the promo that demons are going to attack Alicante, probably because Jonathan manages to open the rift to Edom with the Morningstar blade.

When demons attacked Alicante in the book CoG, Magnus and Alec were estranged. They encountered each other in the midst of the chaos and reconciled while fighting demons together. It’s where Magnus tells Alec he loves him for the first time, i.e. “you stupid Nephilim, yadda yadda yadda”

I think we’re going to that battlefield reunion in this episode, and it’s going to be all sorts of fun, because by the time it happens, Asmodeus will have revealed his ulterior motives to Magnus, Magnus will have put together all the pieces and realized what Alec did, and if he does call Alec a “stupid Nephilim” (which is not actually a line I’m in love with and I sort of hope we don’t get it because it will probably feel shoehorned in like a lot of the iconic book moments they’ve been trying to force this season) it will probably be for 1) thinking Magnus would choose his magic over Alec and 2) being a dumbass for giving Asmodeus his way out of Edom.

So they’re going to argue and hash it out and reconcile while fighting off demons, and then we’re going to get a battlefield proposal. Possibly not intentionally, possibly Alec just blurts it out that he had wanted to marry Magnus, but either way, it’s going to be GLORIOUS.

And then it will be agony, because Magnus will be taken to Edom, either by force or by sacrificing himself because it’s the only way to seal the rift (I really hope by force, because I’m tired of Magnus sacrificing himself, y’all.) We know from BTS shots of filming the last two eps that he’s in Edom with Lilith at some point, and we know from the season promo that there’s a moment when Alec is kneeling, looking at the sky, devastated, so I think that’s the cliffhanger we were going to be left on.

But yeah. Battlefield proposal. You heard it here first.

#shadowhunters #malec #sh spoilers #sh s3b #s3ep20 #speculation

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nyxtoxicate · 5 years ago

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hello yearning: a'plyae mae.

Summary:

Jung Taekwoon, a fourth tier soccer player in the K3 division of Korea's football leagues, juggles the struggle of raising his nephew as well as pushing his career forward when he unconsciously commits an act which bestows a faerie of good fortune upon him. A problem; the faerie is very mischievous. Another problem; the faerie is also very, very attractive.

Rating- Mature.

artwork by @changbaegi. used with permission.

Chapter 3: Virtuoso (or read on ao3)

There's a silvery-green sheen of light that seems to envelop the man lounging on Taekwoon’s furniture, and he blinks once -twice- to reassure himself that it was not a figment of his imagination. If he squints hard, really hard, it almost seems as though there is a glittering substance present within the sheen, falling like an iridescent curtain over the strange man’s head and down to the bare feet, crossed at the ankle, settled on the white tile floor. His white tile floor. The white tile floor that was the base of HIS kitchen where he ATE.

Taekwoon was still frozen in place, stuck in time as the other man stretches his arms over his head, apparently completely content to lounge in this position all night if need be, and Taekwoon bristled at that. Still, he couldn’t quite ignore the shiver that was running up his spine at the sight of the man, because -while he was certain they had never met before- there was an air of familiarity about him

(Oh, so you’re who I’ve been waiting for?)

He's just going to ignore that strange, otherworldly voice that popped into his head, thank you very much. Instead, what Taekwoon is going to do is he's going to grab the iron skillet on top of his stove and he's going to get some answers. As soon as he can move.

“Oh, right, Oopsy Daisies, you're stuck there until I explain the deal!” Comes the (throaty, rhythmic) insufferable voice of the man in the chair. “Frozen in time until you accept your fate,” he continues to drawl and the soft screeching of the chair’s protest as it is slowly pushed back, bottoms of its legs scraping against the floor, echoes through the tiny room. When the man stands, Taekwoon is disgruntled to find that the pair are nearly identical in height, meaning his above average stature wouldn't be aiding him this time around. That was just fine, though, because he was broader than this stranger from years spent training his body to reach the edge of its endurance and then some. But, he still wasn't able to move. He was trying to will his frame forward, and when that proved futile, his attempts became desperate enough that all Taekwoon wanted to be able to do was twitch his fingers.

All efforts were in vain, as it were. This man seemed to be telling Taekwoon the truth, and the only logical explanation for the phenomenon was that Taekwoon had been drugged. It most likely occurred when he had been searching the home earlier, his mind too preoccupied to notice any odd remnants of ill-meaning dust or liquid splashed along his walls. Or maybe it was the tap water in the sink he had rinsed his face in. That had to be it. Water, the original source for human vitality and the very basis of life as he knew it would be the thing that finally did Taekwoon in. Just the thought was enough to send him seething- if he had the ability to seethe, that was. Which he did not. Because it was as if someone had set a literal pause on him, feet as lead weighing him down to the floor but his body in a state of utter weightlessness. He might say this is what floating felt like if he was paying more attention to the unnatural sensation overtaking him and not on the long piece of yellowing parchment the other man seemed to have conjured from thin air which was now slowing unfurling to reveal bold, black lettering, cursive and slanting and looking very incredibly ancient. Like a prop from a bad history movie. Taekwoon felt like he was in a bad history movie.

The man clears his throat and Taekwoon’s eyes, surprisingly not dry, set to attention once again.

“Yadda, yadda, yadda, introduction to why I’m here, but you should know that already, blah blah blah, HERE WE GO.” A slender finger with nails unkempt and cracking at the edges, though not dirtied, rests pointedly on a section of text that Taekwoon can hardly see and definitely cannot decipher. “When the giall -that’s you- has committed an act of utter sanctity while not under dis-repose influence, shall be granted, for indefinite longevity, an Asparas of one of the following sects to be decided by the council of sects immediately following the act and with due haste so long as no unearthly entity deem is inefficient; i) Sylia, for acts of the kindred spirit ii) Iallea, for acts of the wandering flesh iii) Diamae, for acts in relation to salvation iv) Rutia, for acts that the Oke’trall will v) Nullea, for acts inconceivable by no other means than Thaumaturgy or Mysticism vi) Atua, to grant safe passage into wosh regions.”

Taekwoon is at a complete loss, the words tumbling from the man’s mouth being a language he couldn’t interpret. He was catching some Korean words jumbled in with a lot of jargon and then something that sounded almost Celtic. He would very much like for this man to leave.

The man only whistles through his teeth, smiling brightly up at Taekwoon. His eyes crinkle at the edges and Taekwoon tries not to think about how nice it looks because this was not the right time to be ogling.

“You really did something pretty nice to have me assigned to you!” The stranger sing-songs, seeming extremely pleased with himself. “I’m from the Diamae sect, but your case could have been between the Diamae or the Sylia sects which is why it took a lot longer for me to finally get to you. They said something about a kid and a cliff, but that��s really all I heard before I got too curious and decided to just come and see you even if the entire meeting hadn’t exactly adjourned, but you wouldn’t even give the courtesy of greeting me! You just locked that cute little kid up in that room and then came out with a bat! That wasn’t a very nice thing to do at all, you know. Especially since I’m basically going to be living with you from now on and all that.”

Was this some kind of a fever dream? It had to be. Any moment, Taekwoon would be waking up after being shaken to consciousness abruptly by his nephew who would be chastising Taekwoon for not waking up early enough to take him to school on time and Taekwoon would eventually forget all about this crazy situation playing out as he blissfully went out the rest of his life in comfortable repetition. He might be able to recall the dream when he woke up, but it would soon fade away until the remnants were nothing but forgotten glimpses into a world belonging to his imagination. If Taekwoon could move, he would pinch himself.

He still couldn’t move though, and that was really starting to get to him.

“Aye, we might not have gotten off on the right note, but I’m sure we’ll be able to get along just fine once this is all cleared up. Anyway, you have to accept the acquirement of Asparas (1) amae before we can get the rest of the details sorted out. It’s also kind of mandatory for you because if you don’t accept then it’s going to make a lot of really powerful people preeeeettyyy pissed,” rambled the man in his rapid-fire manner of speech. Taekwoon could hardly keep up, still reeling, but it seemed that it was unnecessary for him to be aware of the goings on because some otherworldly force was tipping his head forward and then back. A nod. He had just accepted whatever the Hell was being given to him.

The man claps his hands together, overjoyed, before snapping his fingers and the action unbinds Taekwoon from whatever chains were keeping him in place. He has to test out his newfound freedom by first curling his wrists and clenching his fists to ensure that his blood was in proper circulation throughout his body. It was, and Taekwoon geared himself to give out a punch that would have the other man sprawled on the floor in seconds, but then-

"A'plyae mae. A'llemenia mae Kalan . But you can call me Jaehwan while we’re here. It’ll make me fit in better,” there was a hand being extended in Taekwoon’s direction, one with long and slender fingers adorned by patterned wooden rings and interwoven with what he could only assume to be moss and petals. The look that he was being given was one of (adoration?) fondness by the man- Jaehwan- and Taekwoon thought that maybe this wouldn’t be the best time considering that if he didn’t try to figure out what had just happened, he might me “pissing off a lot of really powerful people” and that didn’t sound good at all if they were anything like the guy that kept magically appearing in his home. Taekwoon takes the man’s hand and tentatively shakes it.

Now that he’s stepped closer, the football player can see that there are intricate lines running up the stranger’s flesh, dancing, even as he stood still, over the skin like veins but a milky hue in colour. So very strange. Taekwoon can also see the violet bags under brown eyes (or were they green?) indicating that this man was tired even through the cheerful facade that was being put on. If Taekwoon didn’t know better, he might say that the cheeriness was an act. But, what really struck him was the blond locks set atop the man’s head. They were so yellow in shade that Taekwoon was reminded of sunflowers, and at first he thought it might be dyed that way were it not for the consistent colour. He had had his own hair dyed once, and he knew that there were some things that artificial colour could not achieve.

“Why are you here?” He manages to ask without stuttering, his eyes now drawn to the slightly sunken cheeks that sit atop a prominent jawline.

Jaehwan’s smile falters for a moment before he releases Taekwoon from the embrace and squares his shoulders before quickly dropping into a bow at the waist. He’s back up so fast that Taekwoon thought he would have missed the action if he had blinked and surely Jaehwan’s head would be swimming from the disturbance to his equilibrium? But, there seems to be no such inhibition, and Jaehwan’s voice sounds without any hesitation.

“I’m your personal angel! Well, not angel. I’m an asparas, but they basically sound the same, so does it really matter?” Taekwoon thought that, yes, it did really matter. “And the reason I’m here is because you committed an act that was out of selflessness for that boy down at the… Where was it? Some marine place? I think that’s what it was. I wasn’t really paying attention, I just went where they sent me to go, and that was here!” Damn, this guy looked really proud of himself.

“But…” Taekwoon just thought he had done what any other normal person with a moral compass would have done. Besides, it had been an accident; it wasn’t like he willingly went out of his way to save the kid, he was just the one who happened to be standing there when it happened. It just seemed way to circumstantial for any of this to be substantial.

It was like Jaehwan could read his mind, because the asparas was clasping his hands behind his back and looking humbled, and his voice was lowering to a much quieter tone as he spoke.

“Really, I’m only supposed to be bestowing good fortune upon you right now because what you did wasn’t, what do you call it? Totally heroic? But, it was still a really good thing to do, and everyone at the council has to think about that before they send one of us over here to be around the humans and stuff.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Just think about it like you have your very own personal lucky charm now.”

Taekwoon didn’t really believe in luck. It was hard work and perseverance that had gotten him to where he was, so what did he need this for? Slowly, he makes a grab for one of the chairs at the table, slinking into the cushion-covered wooden seat and resting his chin in his hands as he tried to mull over the new information. He could be crazy. This could be a fever- dream from some bad food he had eaten earlier in the day, because if you asked him, that tteokbeokki from the street vendor in town earlier had tasted a bit off to him. He could also be trying to fill the void of loneliness that was in his heart whenever Minyul wasn’t around, but even that couldn’t really explain what was going on because he should only be experiencing this phenomena when his nephew wasn’t around, and he had heard Jaehwan’s voice in the past when he thought there was an intruder.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he can hear said voice saying, and a pair of bare feet appear in Taekwoon’s peripheral vision underneath the shadow of his fingers. When he looks up, he can see an impish grin. “There’s no way that this could be real, right? I come in here claiming to be some sort of FaeFolk and making you sign some agreement that says I’m going to be here a while? It does sound pretty freaky, but I promise, you’ll barely know I’m here! I can even babysit! Kids love me. Check this out!”

And before Taekwoon can protest, Jaehwan is lifting his hands. In one of his hands, his fingers furl toward his palm but the other hand acts as a stabilizer underneath it in a completely flat position. Jaehwan takes a long breath, focusing intently on one spot just beyond the point of Taekwoon’s shoulder, and then his eyes glaze over as if he is staring into nothingness. Taekwoon waits for something to happen. He waits a minute. And then two. But, then he realizes that there is no motion to Jaehwan’s shoulders that would indicate an intake of breath. The football player wonders if Jaehwan is frozen just like he was and if this would be a good time to try and maneuver the body out of the home while he could, but then he sees it.

The foggy mist begins to collect around the man’s mouth, and Taekwoon watches in horror, sinking into the back of the seat, as the mist clouds just before Jaehwan’s head, morphing in shape like something alive and twisting in the air as though writhing in agony. The same shimmering sheen is present through the mist and it glitters in the air until something… Twinkles? There is something most definitely twinkling in the center of the vapor and disturbing the area around it as it grows in size and brightness. Taekwoon can barely see Jaehwan’s face through the smoggy substance because it is darkening to a deep purple even as the orb becomes brighter and brighter.

Taekwoon finally has to shield is eyes, but when the light dims and he can turn to see what has become of the bizarre scene, the Fae is half- enclosing a sparkling purple tourmaline in his hand and grinning an illustrious grin. The space around him should be empty, but lilac flecks glint in coruscation in the air, teasing and enveloping the asparas in a nebula of placidity.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Taekwoon hadn’t realized his jaw dropped.

⋯ ◯ ⋯⋯

Excerpt From The Third Work of Han Gyeon (1625)

To be understood as a translation into modern speak of the 20th century. Translation as approved by professors Choi Yongmin and Kim Soyee of Korea University’s Linguistics Department and the International Circle of Korean Linguistics.

Good Fortune bestow the group of Seven, for seven be one of the most magykal of the numbers; no doubt to be reasoned by those we were seeking that these seven were only of the most capable of men to make this journey. For, even though the legs we were to trudge on ached with a fury and e’en if our feet be waterlogged and mud- soaked, we seven did not falter in our task of bestowing the water upon the grounds of the land. Our entry to the place of wonder be granted only from our prowess, and only when granted access through the iridescent gloss that separates the holier world from that of Mankind did we allow for rest. I fear that the first few moments we spent were to set at ease our tired bodies and souls and to mourn for the loss of the good fellows we did leave behind, but we would soon to be reunited; for their Sakes rather than ours. Only by following the streams, the gurgle of the brooks and distant roar of rushing water, were we to come upon this place, nestled in the hills and secret from most but those who know the path to trudge. Here, the spectrum is like nothing that can be sought in the realm of Man, in a place where even the air dances with a mingling of vibrant hue and our guide partakes of the scenery with a satisfaction us seven have come to know, for surely this place will leave us with such longing once our presence had become unwanted. Soon as we are relinquished from this place, it would haunt our hearts until our very last breaths, but we were not to know that until the years of despairing were set upon. In that instant, the brief period of time that passed between myself gathering my strength before taking in the fictitious around me, we would be surrounded. Not a menacing demeanor, nor one of manic, ominous threat, but one that had three of our group whispering in hushed murmurs to themselves. Their eyes would flicker about, though in fascination or fright it cannot be known; all that is for certain is that we were under a watchful gaze while amongst the whimsicality of the unknown, and so would the piercing gazes remain on our backs until we set off once again in search of the meeting place. “Be sure to bring another,” our guide suggested from his place to the stream nearest to us, because water seemed to flow in wavering and winding currents up the hills, cupping his hands in demonstration to us as he fills his palms of the clear liquids of the realm. We were all to follow suit, not to forget ourselves in bewilderment and there were only a few who needed to scramble. The way that we were to go was one flanked on both sides by trees whose branches were heavy with ripening fruit or flowering blossoms even while the floor of this forest, for surely this was still woodland although the thicket was that of pinks and oranges whose bark was littered with fluttering insects. The overhang of twigs offered cool shade against the beating sun, cooling the grass and moss of the woods. There were flowing tides here as well, following the path and intersecting at times, but never crossing over the areas of shade we were subject to. It was something akin to an arch, harmonious. A being of less caliber may seek to lay a hand upon the efflorescence as if in a lovers’ caress, but we were of good and clever men and we followed our guide staunchly so as to ne’er lose sight of the trail we were to take. Even if we were welcomed here now, the men were of unspoken agreement that wandering was only in a Fool’s agenda. Every so often, a shadow would cross the peripheral of my vision, flitting from sapling to timber but never back, always following. I would never turn my head to meet the kindred spirit; it would have been unwise. Instead, when the sun must have reached high noon, our guide instructs us to sit. The wind began to still around us, no longer buffering against the cloth of our cloaks nor whispering through the trees in its song, and so we sat side- by- side on the trail, the length of us spanning just the necessary amount. We would wait until They were to greet us. We would offer our gift to them, one of tenacity and fearlessness and diligence, and then the meeting would commence. Out of the corner of my eye, I remember the shadow sitting down on par with us as well. Faintly, falco naumanni calls.

⋯ ◯ ⋯⋯

“How did you do that?” The football player blurts out once he’s found his voice, the pounding of his heart thundering in his ears. There was no possible way that no trickery was involved. Jaehwan was an illusionist, most likely, and had probably set up lights around the apartment to make the elaborate scheme seem like magic. This was the only possible explanation that Taekwoon could think of, because he was a very logical man and nothing that was happening was happening with any practicality. That, or he was losing his mind.

“See? That’s why kids like me! Even Minyul liked it, and I only did some small stuff.” Without a care, Jaehwan tosses the gem behind him and it clatters against the floor before resting still with a final deep thud where it would stay nestled in the carpet of a rug. Taekwoon followed the action with his eyes, but could hardly process it.

Jaehwan was suddenly very close, and Taekwoon visibly startled in his chair. He didn’t like the way that this man could move like that, soundlessly and so quickly that it was unnerving. Jaehwan’s eyes were quite large as they stared reproachfully into Taekwoon’s own, his arms descending so that the Fae’s hands could grip at the arms of the chair on either side of Taekwoon’s lax body. He was leaning in so close that Taekwoon thought he could scent the faint smell of salty sea water rolling off of him, and that did nothing more than pique his curiosity and send his stomach into a flurry of action. All at once, he felt exhausted and sick, and Taekwoon’s eyes fluttered closed at the wave of nausea that was slowly overtaking him. This didn’t seem to disturb Jaehwan, nor did the faint groan of displeasure that sounded from the Korean man sitting in the chair. Instead, he leaned closer, the aroma growing in strength until Taekwoon was certain that he was standing seaside. If he tried to focus on the darkness behind his eyes and escape into that solitude, images of flotsam and jetsam infested his thoughts until he was certain that he was floating among the waves of the ocean. His palms felt sticky and clammy at his sides before they clutched at the cushion beneath him in an attempt to return to reality, but he could have been a man drowning for all that Taekwoon could do to save himself.

As quickly as the phenomenon started, it ceased. Taekwoon drew in a long gulp of air to steady himself and grasp back into the world that should be around him. He was in his kitchen. He was sitting down. And Jaehwan was still much too close.

“I don’t just do party tricks,” the asparas hums in a condescending tone while something dangerous lurks in the flash of his eyes. It dawns on Taekwoon immediately that Jaehwan had been the cause of the overpowering experience, and that revelation was enough to have him scared. Taekwoon was frightened that this monstrosity of a creature was in his home, and he was frightened that this being was now wont to be around him. The goosebumps erupting on the flesh of his legs, arms and stomach were a clear indication of his emotion. Still, the level stare kept Taekwoon locked in place until the most that he could do was breathe and keep eye contact and pray to whatever deity had cursed him that they would relinquish the contract he was a part of and give him back the previous life that now felt so far away. ( It was funny how time worked like that. Just a few hours earlier, Taekwoon was hoping for some company, and here it was, but not in the way that he expected it. )

Jaehwan pulls away after another moment, the silence broken by a chuckle and then it’s as though a switch has been flicked because the asparas is turning on his heel with arms extended toward the ceiling of the apartment in a show of sheer joy. After a short stretch, Jaehwan lifts himself up onto the counter of the kitchen under which a set of cupboard sit, swinging his bare feet out toward Taekwoon at the table. Taekwoon wasn’t a religious man, but if the Devil were real, surely He was in his home in that instant.

“I don’t usually take up this much space, so this is kind of weird to me. Plus, this human body just feels so… Long? No, that’s not the word. Lanky. It feels lanky,” Jaehwan almost pouts, his bottom lip curling out just slightly in a way that should be endearing but that Taekwoon could only think of as being heinous. “And the beds here are so weird! How can you sleep on something like that? The pillows here aren’t even stuffed with feathers like they should be. That’s what they told us, you know. That the human world was full of all these weird things and that you guys use animals for clothes and stuff.”

Jaehwan must really like the sound of his own voice is the conclusion that Taekwoon is drawing, and the football player begins to ascend from his place of refuge to tentatively move back a hairsbreadth towards the doorway leading out into the hallway.

“You could stay somewhere else?” He suggests in a small voice and then immediately internally chastises himself. Taekwoon’s may have a naturally quiet way of speech, but it wasn’t going to be of use now when he should be authoritative enough to buy time to think of a means to escape. It was that, or somehow undo the deal he was coerced into, because he was going to be taking anything that Jaehwan told him previously into careful consideration.

“Oh, no, no. I… I can’t really. Once one of us FaeFolk are tied to a human, we’re basically bonded. It means I should probably masquerade as your bodyguard or something. Oooh! That would be cool! You could act like you made a mafia boss really angry and that you had to hire protection just like in those movies!” Jaehwan suggests, elated at the idea and Taekwoon didn’t pause to wonder how the asparas even knew what the mafia was if he didn’t even know that pillows were rarely stuffed with feathers anymore. Another thought does strike him, though.

“You said… That they told you what here was like,” he starts, not wanting to picture who ‘they’ were, “does that mean you haven’t been here before?”

“Nope!” Jaehwan shakes his head, crossing his arms in an x over his chest. “Not even once until I got assigned to you. It’s really weird here. You humans don’t even have the nocturna lumos, and that was my favourite part of back home. I mean, you can still see the stars and stuff - I sort of spent the last few nights on a few roofs here- but it really isn’t all that spectacular.”

“Then why send you here in the first place if your home is so much better?” Taekwoon snaps with some regret. He was finding it a struggle just to stand now when his body was weighing itself down so heavily from tiredness.

“Because, it’s our duty to serve the good.” The vague explanation sounds like one that would be given to a child, as if Taekwoon couldn’t understand the full situation so there was no point in telling him. That was irritating, and Taekwoon grinds his teeth together. Briefly, his gaze locks on the bright green numbers of the timer on the microwave set against the wall beside Jaehwan’s head and is unhappy to note that it’s nearing midnight.

“Where do you plan on staying tonight, then?” He resigns himself to asking the man lounging on his counter-top. Jaehwan’s head cocks to the side, lips pursing before he shrugs his shoulders and hops down from his position to land on his feet with all of the grace of an Olympic diver.

“I don’t really wanna sleep tonight. Have you got any movies?”

Taekwoon’s eye twitches but he nods.

“Oh, good, ‘cause I don’t really like it when it gets really dark, so I can just stay in that room with the Big Screen and watch some of those until you wake up. You have those funny ones, right?”

“Comedies?” The only comedies Taekwoon owned were animated because of his nephew and even he could barely get through one of them without feeling as though his brain were leaking through his ears from the sheer stupidity of the absurd storylines. ( He had no desire to find out how a talking, dancing pickle was making his way through life in a cucumber world was all he was getting at. )

Jaehwan only smiles widely at that, and the sight is enough to make Taekwoon’s jaw ache. How could a person’s mouth stretch so obscenely? And in such a square shape? But Taekwoon doesn’t have any more time to mull it over because Jaehwan is moving in his lightning fast way again and tugging on the long sleeve of the shirt the football player is wearing to pull him into the living room that housed the television Jaehwan fondly called the Big Screen. There was no way that Taekwoon was going to be getting away from him, it seemed.

“You’re not going to stay and watch one with me?” Comes the inquiry from the man who had set himself up on Taekwoon’s couch, tucked inside a blanket that Taekwoon was uncertain of where he had procured it from, while Minyul’s uncle abandoned all hope and began to set up the proper configuration for DVDs on the television.

He shakes his head, bending down to insert a disk into the drive before pressing play on the controller in his hand and gearing himself for the loud burst of song that would soon bellow from the speakers. He sets a volume he hopes that his neighbours won’t mind and leaves the remote on the small wooden table in the center of the room. If Jaehwan wanted to use it, he could figure it out himself, Taekwoon reasoned.

“When this one stops just click on the ‘Eject’ button and the disk will come out, then you can put in a different one,” Taekwoon explains to the dejected man on his couch. He doesn’t spare Jaehwan another glance until his legs guide him through the archway that will lead him to the hall. That’s when he hears the faint call.

“What?” He turns in exasperation, rubbing at one of his eyes to attempt to relieve himself of a little bit of the drowsiness screaming at him to sleep.

“Allo’nae. Goodnight,” Jaehwan’s voice sounds in muffled manner from the cocoon of blankets, and Taekwoon can see in the dim light from the television that the Fae had angled himself towards the door to watch as Taekwoon left.

“Oh. Goodnight,” he replies, and that seems to satisfy Jaehwan because his gaze returns to the screen and Taekwoon hears no more from him for the rest of the night.

It’s only when Taekwoon is tucked into his own bed with the blankets pulled over his head and the low din of the television can be heard even through the thick padding of his door that he thinks the familiarity in Jaehwan’s face could be placed. His clothes didn’t give him away, because even Taekwoon had noticed that, save for his lack of shoes, the Fae had been dressed, well, human-like. He had been wearing black denim jeans, for Pete’s sake. No, it had to be something else.

His active mind plagued him until somewhere an hour or so later, when Taekwoon was in the glorious and tranquil state between sleep and wake, he placed Jaehwan’s face. It was the one he thought he had seen etched into the trees in Hallyeohaesang National Park.

#hello yearning #keo #fanfic #vixx #ken #leo #mine #do not repost!

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icaruscmplx-a · 4 years ago

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MASTERMIND AU

Highkey just rips off Junko and Mukuro, but whatever

With his own talent forced on him from a young age, Leon quickly grew sick and tired of it and the concept of talent in general. His older brother, Kazuo, didn’t have a talent and seemed to enjoy to every day to the fullest because of it. It drove Leon to jealousy and, despite having his own life easy, being forced to do it only proved that people only cared about his talent, not him. Eventually, he roped his brother into a plan to break Hope’s Peak down to nothingness and let the rest of the world follow.

The “Leon” people know in the Killing Game is actually Kazuo, and the events of Chapter 1 still play out as normal. Whenever a death occurs, it is legitimately an accident ( identical to the scenario in the manga, actually ), but Kazuo still attempts to cover it up. However, when it comes to throwing Hiro’s crystal ball, it fails miserably since he’s not the baseball star, Leon is. Still, he cleans up whatever he can and assumes Leon will cover for him. Except he chooses not to. The evidence is shown, his arguments are weak, the trial ends up having all fingers pointed at him, and Kazuo ends up executed.

Fast forward to when they’re uncovering the identity of the mastermind. Things may play out a little differently, but in the end Leon’s still revealed as the one behind it all. The following trial proceeds as normally, yadda yadda Leon happily accepts his “execution”, etc. Threads in this verse will require a lot of plotting, especially since Leon does die in SOME way ( or we could simply go the route of “well he didn’t ACTUALLY die”, whichever floats your boat ) but I’m willing to remove or add bits and pieces if it’s relevant to what we’re writing

Branches of this AU:

Kazuo doesn’t kill anyone at all and manages to survive, though he ends up attached to the other students. Despite how rightfully angry they are at him for helping cause the Tragedy, he ends up siding with them at the end and exposes Leon for them. When that actually happens in the Killing Game will vary. Kazuo is available for threads, though he won’t show up unless specifically requested. ( and it would require a LOT of plotting tbh )

Or, as an alternative verse entirely, Kazuo is the one pulling the strings behind the scenes like Leon asks and, instead of killing Sayaka, Leon manages to talk her out of her panic and neither of them die. This one is...admittedly a lot easier to work with considering he's actually in the building with them and could interact easier. Instead of being exposed as the mastermind, he throws Kazuo under the bus. What happens after that varies from thread to thread.

#[ ooc ]#[ verse; mastermind ]#dont mind me as i put these all under read mores so they dont clog the dash oops-

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atimeofmagic · 7 years ago

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ACOTARegret

lol I found an old book review I wrote of “ACOTAR” and I did not hold back:

Wow. Ok. Guys. This book. This fucking book, you guys. I don't even know how to explain how bad this book was, and bad on so many levels, also. There are a ton of spoilers ahead, so be warned. Okay, so, just starting from the beginning and going straight thru, here are some of the many problems I had: 1) So Nesta apparently sucks? And she hates their dad? But she's also the only one who talks to him? Are Feyre and Elain sooo much better because they just ignore their dad, instead of engaging him in conversation? I literally have no fucking clue what's even happening here. And also, Nesta's apparently so strong willed and shit, but she doesn't actually do anything to further her own survival. It's all very confusing. 2) Why is Tamlin so scary when he takes Feyre? He's trying to get her to fall in love with him, not fucking pee her pants because a giant bear is kidnapping her. Wolf? Bear? I can't remember what Tamlin shapeshifts into, just that he's apparently the hottest fucking person in the entire world. Spare me. 3) WHAT THE HECKITY HECK IS GOING ON WITH THE INVISIBLE SPRING COURT?! Making an entire manor of people not just invisible, but intangible? Just for a stupid "fairy-sight" reveal? I don't get it. And also, where are all the non-servants? Did all of them leave when Amarantha came? I think I remember something like Tamlin driving them all away being a plot point. But you can't, like, run a COURT without COURTiers. Also, Tamlin killed all his close friends trying to attract a human girl? And then that's never mentioned again? Okay, cool. Guess the only person who matters is Feyre. 4) The sexism. Why was there so much sexism? I really don't get it. When you're creating an entirely new world, you really don't have to bring sexism with you. It's a choice you can definitely make, but if you bring sexism with you, you have to address it as an issue. Instead, there's a crazy amount of sexism in this book, but it's never faced as an issue. It's just presented as the way things are. There are seven High Lords of Prythian, and the only female ruler we see in this book is EVIL, POWER-CRAZED, BLOOD-THIRSTY!!!!11!!!1!! What the fuck. 5) The drugging. Feyre spent a good portion of her life in this book being drugged every single night, and then fondled like a sex toy. BY HER LOVE INTEREST. Apparently, it's totally fine to be assaulted as long as the assaulter is hot! 6) This book was just so boring. Feyre spent most of it lounging around in perfect gardens, staring into stupid moonlight pools, and saying every other sentence how she could never paint the perfect gardens or moonlight pools. There was also a lump of annoying bantering and a dash of passionate angst sex. Feyre was proactive at the very beginning--she wanted to get home, she wanted to help her family--but as soon as she heard her family was being taken care of (for, like, the seventh time), she basically melted into Tamlin's arms. 7) The stupid blight. We learn at the end that the blight is really Amarantha doing her thing, but Feyre doesn't know that. And yet, she hears about a MAGICAL blight on MAGIC and worries about her family living in a NON-magical land. Since she has no idea what she's worried about, there's absolutely zero urgency at all. Plus, the book kept going on and on and on about how Tamlin's powers were so diminished, yadda yadda yadda, but maybe don't show him with so much power, then? Because he was doing magic left and right, and when you hear that that's only a fraction of his power, magic starts to become boring. Because the more magic you can do and the more easily you can do it, the less interesting it is. 8) The ellipses. So may . . . ellipses. And at . . . random times. Feyre would make a statement and then put her final thought . . . after. Also, there was a lot of-- She would start a thought and-- Guess she was bored, too. There's so much more, but it's late, and I'm tired. I hope Rhysand falls into the Cauldron. *edit* Oh, right, and then Alis gets mad at Feyre for not telling Tamlin that she loved him??? And Feyre gets mad at herself??? For something that wasn't her fault at all!!!! I DON'T GET IT I NEED SARAH J. MASS TO COME HERE AND EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

#anti sjm #acotar #acotrash

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new2otomelol · 7 years ago

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Dracula - A KBTBB Fanfiction

Again, totally not a writer, just doing this for fun! Voltage owns the rights to its characters and games. This is a fan fiction. I seriously thought it would be fun to combine an old story with a new one, re-invent a little, since we’re close to October. Soooooooooo I figured I'd give it a shot to write a vampire story 😉 here's my fantasy, LOL! The story begins the day MC is sold to the bidders. Her name is Elizabetha and she has just been introduced to all of them.

ELIZABETHA'S POV I'm so nervous right now, but I won't be scared, I have bigger problems than the men before me. "Choose who will buy you!" they said... ugh, I need to get this over with, but before I have a chance to really think things through, I am taken by Eisuke to his suite. Ignoring the conversations from the other bidders as I am being thrown over his shoulder, I let myself fall limply and I let out a sigh as if I'm bored.

Once inside he drops me on top of one of his designer couches. "You will be staying here in the penthouse in the empty suite across the hall from mine. Baba will take you to your dorm to pick up some necessities. Here's a key card and a pager. Always respond to my pages immediately... you are now the maid for the penthouse." I stare at him and don't say a word, what good would it do? He sighs as if annoyed "do you speak much?" I smile wryly, "only when I need to." And with those words he disappears to his office.

THE FOLLOWING DAY – ELIZABETHA POV: I collect my things from my locker and begin to head back to the penthouse as my shift just ended. Today was insanely busy, especially with Eisuke paging me constantly for little things... "I need coffee, bring me juice, clean this, clean that, yadda, yadda..." uggh... But I appreciate the busywork, it helps me keep my mind off from what has been happening to me. I only hope that tonight will be just as crazy so that I don't hear that strange voice again in my head, "come to me Elizabetha, you belong only to me.” That voice and those words, who is doing this to me? And why does this man’s voice sound so familiar. I walk forward and almost lose my balance from feeling lightheaded. What is going on?

EISUKE'S POV: That maid is a strange woman; I've read her file, nothing out of the ordinary, but something about her is mysterious, she didn't even flinch when she was bought from the auction. I enjoy watching her defiant stare, her long wavy black hair that she always wears in a ponytail, her beautiful light blue eyes, curves in all the right places... she looks like she's of European descent. I think I'll use her as my girlfriend to get Mr. Bucci's daughter off my back.

ELIZABETHA’s POV: I reach the penthouse and as soon as I set foot inside, I'm greeted by all the bidders who are sitting around the lounge area without a care in the world. "Princess! Come on over here and join us!!..." yells Baba as I begin to make my way to my suite. "Another time perhaps?" I smile and continue to make my way to my desired site, but alas, King Jerk pipes up "you're coming with me... I found use for you and you're getting ready for a party tonight." I stop dead in my tracks and sigh, I turn around and face him. I kneel on the ground, just like one of my all-time favorite movie characters "what is thy bidding, my master?" and with that I see Soryu and Mamo chuckle a little, Ota gets way too excited "Oooh, ooh, Koro has a sense of humor"

I look up at him, roll my eyes and stand back up. Eisuke, looking not all too pleased, makes his way over to me, slides his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. "You're my fake girlfriend and if you do your job right, I'll set you free." My eyes widen and I look up at him. "Not like I have a choice, right?" he smiles and lets me go... "So you're looking to make a deal with Mr. Bucci?" asks Soryu. I can't help but feel my inner geek scream inside and I take my opportunity and seize the moment. I kneel again, just as I had done earlier and deliver my line "he will join us or die master!" I raise myself again and with that Mamoru and Ota laugh hysterically, Soryu looks away to hide his laugh and Baba looks confused... sigh, a non-believer. Eisuke takes a hold of my arm and takes me with him to the elevator "you're starting as of right now comedian! Don't underestimate me!" I decide to keep my mouth shut.

A new outfit and makeover later I am at a party with my supposed boyfriend. As soon as we enter I notice a group of women begin to crowd Eisuke and I'm pushed away from him. Crap, if I'm to keep up appearances I need to do something. I push a couple of the "ladies" out of the way and slide my arm around his. I pull him close and kiss him as passionately as I can... I include a little tongue action for good measure... ewwww, but I have to sell it. I let go of him after a minute and glare at the ladies, "he's taken dearies, now run along!" Man, if looks could kill, but I did my job. Eisuke looks at me with a confused look, so I lean into his ear and whisper "you wanted me to act as your girlfriend, I'm doing it" and with that I kiss his cheek and smile to our audience. He smiles and holds my hand and then whispers in my ear, "honey, don't mess this up for me!" We met with Mr. Bucci right after and things went smoothly.

EISUKE'S POV I need to get this deal with Mr. Bucci, I hope she can act her part accordingly; this is going to be fun. We walk in to the party and the usual crowd of girls begins to form around me, sigh, fake smile on and deal with it, that's all I ever do. I then feel and arm slide around mine and Elizabetha pulls me in for a very passionate kiss... I was lost in it, almost entranced by it, by the gods, I've been kissed passionately before, but this was different. She suddenly pulls away and sends all the other women away with great confidence. She whispers something in my ear about acting the part, but I'm just trying to calm myself to get ready for the meeting. I whisper into her ear to not mess things up for me... I'm the one in command. In the end, Mr. Bucci's daughter will be coming for a visit and we'll have to keep up this charade for a while longer. Can't say that I mind, but I will take charge next time.

TWO WEEKS LATER – ELIZABETHA'S POV I'm so tired. This Carolina girl has been a hassle to deal with, but I've done my part and have acted like a saint around her, even after she tried to make it look like I was cheating on my "boyfriend." I just know she's up to no good. But no time to think about that, I need to come up with new security measures for myself. The more I'm with Eisuke, the more I feel a connection with him; however, that seems to make the voice that calls to me stronger... it's as if something is coming for me. It doesn't call me just at night anymore, it slowly creeps up during the day sometimes... it feels as if my soul is being pulled and an immense sorrow grabs a hold of my heart. All the strength that I have is quickly used to keep me from crying. At night sometimes I wake up to find myself standing by the door as if I'm trying to go somewhere, but where? One night as I am finishing my shift and I decide to take a quick brake outside in the back of the hotel. Before heading back to the penthouse, a couple of men come up to me, spray something in my face and seconds after, everything fades to black. I wake up to find that I'm tied up, in a warehouse and Carolina is the one behind it all. "Leave my Eisuke! You're not good enough for him." She yells at my face and slaps me a couple of times. I know she's trying to scare me, but it's not going to work. "Carolina sweetie, you have so many good qualities about you, you'll find the right man that will worship you. I love Eisuke, with all my heart and can't leave him!" As soon as I said those words, I realized that maybe there might be some truth to them. However, at that precise moment I notice a mist form all around the warehouse and I begin to feel dizzy. An immense pain shoots from the space between my neck and collar bone "unghh.." so many feelings rush through my body... love, pain, sorrow, joy, fear, an overpowering fear... "What's going on?! Um... Elizabetha?" As soon as Carolina speaks, the mist dissipates and I begin to regain my composure. I look down to my chest and notice that the front of my uniform is soaked in blood, then a loud bang is heard around the room and Eisuke and Soryu both step in. Carolina shrieks and begins to apologize for having kidnapped me. Eisuke pacifies her and tells her that everything will be alright... good, he hasn't seen the right side of my uniform yet. I try to angle my body further to keep the sight of my blood away from them, at least temporarily, until I stumble and Eisuke's eyes widen in horror.

EISUKE'S POV I can't believe it when I see Elizabetha stumble forward and as she looks up I see a trail of blood that has soaked through the front of her uniform, nobody touches what is mine! "Carolina, what happened to her?" I try to keep my cool, but it takes everything in me to do so. I run to Elizabetha and begin to undo her restraints... "Eisuke, she didn't do this to me, trust me... it feels like a bite of some sort, but I'm alright." I help her up and look at Carolina "I, I don't know what happened to her, one minute she was okay then she was bleeding the next; I swear I didn't do that!" I smile back and calmly reply "It's okay, I believe you Carolina, but I have to take her to a doctor now... we'll see you off tomorrow before you head back home, okay?" Carolina smiles and says "yes! Hope you feel better Elizabetha, sorry for what I did, but I know that you really love Sukee here and will leave him in your hands!" Elizabetha looks up and smiles at Carolina.

We rush to the penthouse were Luke is waiting for us. Elizabetha will not remove her hand from her collar bone. "Sexy bones, let me see, you're still bleeding out a little." Elizabetha finally removes her hand and reveals a very large wound. It looks like an animal bit her and tore her skin apart. Luke sighs and says he'll have to stitch it up, but forgot to bring anesthesia with him. "Luke, I can take it, just do it now before I bleed out any more." Elizabetha looks at Luke straight on and urges him to continue. "Kid, 'ya got balls." Mamoru says as he settles himself on the couch to take a nap. Ota and Baba are just standing there looking at her with their mouths agape. What the hell happened?

ELIZABETHA'S POV Luke is working on stitching me up... honestly, I don't feel much pain anymore. Eisuke is looking at me with worry in his eyes... could he care about me? Ughh.. no, focus... that fog had something to do with all of this. "Elizabetha, what happened?" Eisuke can't stand my silence much longer. "I don't know, but maybe a rat did this while I was unconscious?" I lie, but I can't explain the unexplainable right now. Luke sighs "I'm done sexy bones. You will have a small scar, nothing major, but something did take a bite out of you." Baba kneels down in front of me and holds my hand "I'm sure it must have been an animal from the warehouse pretty lady, but don't worry, you're safe now!" I smile at all them. "I'm fine guys, really, just tired and need some rest." I stand up and head to my suite, but Eisuke catches me at the stairs and carries me ... "don't make a big deal out of this, just making sure you don't make a mess of my stairs." Yep, still a jerk. Finally alone in my suite and I try to process it all. That fog wasn't natural. I've heard from my aunt before, when she used to read my cards, that I seem to have been reborn a few lifetimes. The woman was a gipsy extraordinaire and loved to read fortunes. Before she died, she told me that a man, almost creature-like, was looking for me, that he would find me. As part of my inheritance, she left me a box that I was told I could not open until it was needed. I just took it as her leaving me one final riddle to solve. Maybe I should open it tomorrow? As I continue to think things through in an attempt to relax, the voice calls out to me again... "Elizabetha, my love, I found you."

THE NEXT NIGHT – ELIZABETHA'S POV Eisuke, Soryu and I see Carolina off in the morning. Mr. Bucci is extremely satisfied with Eisuke and instantly strikes a deal with him. In honor of our success, we all gather around to celebrate at the penthouse pool with a little bit of alcohol and snacks. After a couple of drinks, I depart from the guys and head to my room with the excuse that I still need to recover a bit more from the night before.

As I turn on the lights to my room, I notice a beautiful white night gown laid out on my bed. It had a very revealing neckline (one that would require the assistance of my lacey push-up bra) and long flowing material with intricate lace designs, simply stunning. I thought that maybe one of the guys bought it for me as a gift. I took a bath, blow dried my hair and put it on. As I looked in the mirror, I felt regal, different... my muscles started to relax and I felt entranced. I felt a pair of arms encircle me from behind, but couldn't see anything in the mirror. I tried to move my head to look up, but felt frozen in place, I couldn't move. "My lovely Elizabetha, my second gift to you..." I then feel a sharp pain on my neck followed by a feeling of heat radiating from the spot. I begin to pant and feel my blood draining away... two minutes later, it stops... "I'll return for you my love, don't try to fight me... you know that we are meant to be together for eternity." My eyes widen and finally regain the feeling of my limbs and turn around... I see a man with incredible features, truly a site to behold, but his smile was wicked and blood was dripping from his chin; his eyes were yellow and animalistic in nature... He seemed familiar. Before I could utter a word, he disappears. I feel a flood of memories pouring in and I can't control the feeling of despair that follows. I look at myself in the mirror and see blood that has trickled from my neck down to my chest, beginning to soak my gown, but this time, it wasn't as bad as the night before. I feel light headed, but I try to speak... it seems so hard, but I finally muster enough strength to whisper a name... "Dracula" ... The visions I see are memories of a distant past... I was his and he was a tyrant. I begin to walk out of my room as I continue to process it all, I feel hypnotized as I stare straight ahead at nothing "I need you my darling, my one true love." Someone, please make him stop talking to me! I can still feel his arms around me. I walk down the stairs not noticing anything or anyone, I'm in my own world.

EISUKE'S POV The guys decide to go back to the Lounge after we clean up from the pool. I kept thinking about Elizabetha and how I want her to stay with me. I can never admit this to anyone, but I've fallen for her. These past couple of weeks with her have been amazing. She's kind, hard-working, so different to all the women I have ever met. I feel like we've become closer... I always get what I want and she will be mine.

I turn around and notice something coming down the stairs out of the corner of my eye. "ELIZABETHA!!!" I yell as I see her walking aimlessly in a beautiful night gown, but my eyes go directly to the blood coming from her neck. "BABA, CALL LUKE, NOW!!" I run to her and try to get her attention, but she doesn't move her eyes. She looks pale and frail, she keeps walking forward and I grab her from behind to try and hold her in place. "What the..." Ota doesn't even know what he's witnessing either. "Yo! Kid! Wakeup!" Mamoru tries to clap his hands in her face, but she doesn't even blink. Baba runs back to us as he hangs up the phone "Luke is on his way Boss, he's downstairs in the casino, so it shouldn't be long...... Princess, what's wrong?!" But Elizabetha does not respond to any of us. I get frustrated with worry "DAMN IT ALL, wake up woman!" She begins to move forward and drags me behind her.. Soryu and Baba help me hold on to her arms to pull her back, but she continues to move with all of us in tow. "What the hell?!" Luke yells and runs towards us. He flashes a flashlight into Elizabetha's eyes and checks her neck wound. He finally takes out a syringe with liquid and injects it into her arm. She begins to lose strength and falls back into my arms. I lay Elizabetha down on my bed and Luke tends to her wound. "Luke, what the hell is that on her neck." Luke looks frazzled and lost "I.. I don't know Eisuke, I've never seen this before. She's lost so much blood, I need to make a blood transfusion..." Luke leaves to call a colleague to get the equipment he needs and some blood for her. "mmmnhh..." Elizabetha seems to be trying to wake up. "nnngghh... Vlad... Dragoste eternă.. " "Elizabetha, speak in Japanese, what are you saying?" Soryu looks to her in confusion. In fact, I notice that all of us seem to be quiet for once, unsure as to what is going on. "I can't do thisss... Vlad... you killed them all... all..." Elizabetha is talking in her sleep. I reach out to her and touch her cheek... "you're safe, you're with us. Wake up Elizabetha!" she begins to move as if she's stuck in a nightmare and begins to reach out with her hands. Soryu and I try to restrain her arms as she begins to panic. "Hang in there pretty lady, doc will be right back..." Ota and Baba take a hold of her legs to keep her from kicking. Elizabetha continued "nnngh... you did... I... I threw myself into the ravine... the water... my grave... you became a demon..." At this point, tears begin to stream from her eyes "let me die... I will take you with me..." right at that moment, Luke walks in with blood bags and begins to inject her with an IV... she immediately settles down. In a few minutes time, she begins to regain some color in her face. But what the hell is going on? Who is Vlad? Why was she saying such weird things?

ELIZABETHA'S POV My eye lids feel heavy, but I need to wake up. I need to warn them all. Soon, a room comes into view and I notice Eisuke, Soryu, Baba, Ota, Mamoru and Luke all sitting around the room. "Wha, what are you all doing here?" I slowly speak. "koro! You're awake!!" Ota yells ... "Kid, ya took a couple of years out of all of our lives"... "princess, what happened?" ... "who the hell did that to you?" So many voices and questions all at once. I slowly sit up and notice that it was still nightfall. "Guys, please listen to me carefully. Baba, can you bring a box that's under my bed to me? It's heavy... Mamoru, I know you have at least one set of handcuffs on you, handcuff me to the bed, NOW!... Soryu, take out your gun and keep it aimed at me..." Baba runs out of the room immediately. Mamoru hesitates as he takes out his handcuffs "kid, what 'ya doin'?" I sigh and look at him "Mamo, I don't have much time, do it quickly" he cuffs one hand against the bed post. Ota and Eisuke are staring at me looking bewildered. "Elizabetha, what happened? Explain woman!" Eisuke yells at me with worry in his voice... I sigh... "I will in a minute... just need to save you all, from me."

"Koro, you're not making sense..." Ota chimed in. "Sexy bones, you've already taken two pints of blood into your system, don't strain yourself." Luke takes out the IV from my arm and places a bandage on it. Soryu remains seated with his gun in his hands, he doesn't want to point it at me. "Soryu, it's okay. If I get loose from this bed, don't hesitate to shoot me, understand?" Baba walks in right in as I finish speaking to Sor.

Good, you're all here. "I may not have much time before I begin to lose my senses. Keep your minds open to what I'm about to say. Do you all know about the Impaler?" Ota's eyes widen... "yes! He impaled thousands of people...he was a fierce ruler." I smile "that's right Ota, his name was Vlad, but others called him Dracula... he was, I was... his wife" I hear gasps and then I hear Baba laugh "but that was several hundred years ago." I smile sadly. "Yes Baba, it was and he is no longer human... he's a ..." Luke interrupts me and finishes my sentence as if he had a sudden realization "vampire!" Eisuke looks at me as if he's in disbelief "vampires are just made up stories, they're not real" I glare at him "well, you'll soon find out the truth... Vlad was my world, my soulmate, until I could not take the bloodshed any longer." I cry as if the memories of it all were occurrences that had transpired just yesterday... "you don't know what it is like to live in a castle that has a garden filled with impaled corpses, some people still alive, slowly and agonizingly dying...the smell of blood, the flies and my husband sitting there watching them... smiling, drinking their blood as if it were champagne and eating parts of their bodies in front of them... his intent was to strike fear to ward off enemies, but his bloodlust new no end and he became something else.." they all look at me with shocked faces. "I killed myself because I couldn't bear to live with the screams, the pain, knowing that I would bring a child, his child into this world... I couldn't and I selfishly threw myself and my unborn child into a ravine." I bite my lip and cry hard, so much sorrow is filling me up right now.

"But princess, that was not you, that may have been another you a long time ago, but..." I look at Baba and realize that time is slipping by. "Sorry gentlemen, we need to move this show on the road." I dry my tears and with my free hand I take out the contents of the box that my aunt had left for me. She left some wooden stakes, long silver chains, a weapon made of silver that looked like a long flute, but once you pressed a button on the center of it, a long blade would emerge with force; she also left a pendant, some sacred water and finally a beautiful silver sword. "Woah, it's like an armory!" Baba was shocked. "I still don't know if to believe all of this. I mean this is pretty insane." Eisuke looks baffled and I feel so incredibly sad because I would like to believe that someday, I can get to know him better. At this rate though, I'm no longer sure I have long to live. "I'm sorry, all of you, if I would have known all of this was going to happen... I would have run away a long time ago... but I can feel a change in me, we need to speed this up... Luke, tie those silver chains around my arms and bind me to the headboard; be sure to lock the chains in place so that I don't get loose..." oh no...I'm getting dizzy and can hear everyone's heart beating... Luke finishes tying me up and I look at Baba "please, hmmm....put the weapons in the box and take the sacred..nngghh....water...throw some at me....ahhhhh...if I get ... loose...whatever I say, DON'T BELIEVE ME!!... "Princess?"

EISUKE'S POV I still can't believe any of this is real. But she looks like she' in so much pain, as if she's lived the life she mentioned before. I don't know what to believe. I'm lost in my own thoughts as I notice Elizabetha's eye color begin to change from blue to red. We all stare at each other and everyone backs away from her in fear. This is becoming real. The silver chains that bind her begin to burn her skin a little and she writhes in pain. I begin to move to take the chains off her, but Luke stops me. "No Eisuke, she's no longer herself... we all have to be patient and take turns guarding her for a few hours... it's 1:00 a.m., sunrise is at 6:00 a.m. we have to do this." Elizabetha pushes herself against the chains... a seductive smile forms on her lips as she watches me "come on baby, don't you want me? Ha, ha, ha.... I picked this outfit just for you..." as sexy as she looked, she wouldn't normally talk like that. I back away. "Tsk, tsk, tsk... looks like the King doesn't enjoy the show..." she turns to Luke "hmm.... Doc! I think I have a fever, want to check me? Come a little closer..." she smiles and big canine fangs emerge from her mouth. I thought I've seen everything in life, holy crap, this is real.

"Come on Luke... don't you want to see my collar bones up close?" Luke turns around and sits in one of the chairs. "Boooring...are British men always this dead when it comes to the sack? Hmmm... Baba, I know you want to touch them, come and get your fill of my breasts" Baba swallows hard and sits next to Ota, turning away from Elizabetha. "Ota, don't you want to put a leash on me... I can be a good Koro and get on all fours for you..." She tries to move on the bed, but remains restrained. She growls angrily and looks at her next target "Mamo, I know you have a big one, let me get a feel for it... maybe you and Soryu together... ha, ha, ha, ha...." The guys all look flushed and can't even look at her straight in the eye.

"STOP THIS NOW!" I yell at her. She twists her head my way in such a weird manner. "Why?! All I want is to have FUN!" she yells back at me and then she slams herself backwards on the headboard creating a loud crashing noise. "I can smell it..." She arches her back as far as she can, tilting her head up as she stares at the ceiling... "I can hear your heartbeats, smell your blood, I want it, let me have a taste." I can tell that this is going to go on for a good while. "We have to remain strong tonight, don't let her get to you!" Soryu addresses all of us. Elizabetha looks at him and laughs wickedly. "The good little mobster, what do you know? You think you've seen it all?... let me show you what darkness is like... the sheer and wonderful feeling that pain can give you!" with that she bites her tongue and a drop of blood comes down her chin. Hours pass on like this. Sunrise finally comes and we are all drained from this experience. Elizabetha passes out as soon as the first rays of the sun fill the room. All of the burns from her chains are gone from her skin. Luke sedates her just in case and everyone leaves to get some rest. I stay in my room and fall asleep on the couch. I don't want to leave her side.

I wake up in the early afternoon and make my way over to Elizabetha. I touch her cheeks and she begins to move. "Ei.. Eeisuke?" I smile at her "It's alright, we're all okay." She begins to cry "I'm so sorry, I know I said such horrible things last night... I ...I..." I don't want to see her cry. "It's not your fault, you warned us it would happen. What do we do now?" She stops crying and tries to recompose herself. "Now I kill him. Let me do this alone, he can kill all of you with just a thought if he wanted to... I don't want any of you to die" I admire her strength in all of this.

"We're not going anywhere." I begin to undo the lock and release her from her chains as well as Mamoru's handcuffs. She smiles and hugs me tight. "Eisuke, I know it's only been a short amount of time... but I feel like... I know that... I, I love you. My past memories, every lifetime that I have lived, I haven't met someone like you... for the first time in a few centuries, I feel alive again and I can't lose you." She loves me... this is... "I love you too Elizabetha, I'm not letting you go, I own you remember? You're mine." She laughs and I kiss her as deeply and as passionately as I can. Soon I have her gasping for air. We stop after a few minutes. "Eisuke, I have a plan to get him. He's coming back for me tonight."

LATER THAT NIGHT – ELIZABETHA'S POV Darkness falls over the city of Tokyo. The guys are all ready with weapons in hand, waiting for Vlad to show. The plan I made with them was for me to be in the lounge area and to stall Dracula while Soryu shoots silver bullets to incapacitate him so that one of us plunges a steak through his heart and cuts off his head. I didn't mention to them that Dracula is much more quick-witted than that. That's why I hide the projectile weapon under my jacket. The clock strikes 8 and a mist begins to form in the lounge. I straighten up as I wait for my former love to solidify. "Elizabetha my love... you know I won't let anyone get in our way..." with a wave of a hand, Dracula manages to pull all the bidders together in the lounge area and drops them on the floor. They remain there, unable to move. To the bidders, their plan is failing, but my real plan is going along smoothly.

"Vlad, you want me, I'm here you bastard..." he smiles wickedly, by the gods, the man is so incredibly handsome, but been there and done that. "Your mind betrays you my dear, your heart wants me, you can feel it." My anger knows no bounds right now "Really? I want you? after all the pain and suffering you've put me through, no, not just me, all the innocent people you have killed over the centuries!" he smiles "they never mattered, just things that paved the way for me to live forever... don't you see my love?" he points to the bidders... Luke is not here; he should still be upstairs according to my plan... "they are but cattle, mere playthings that give us life." I smile and the guys stare at me mortified, they think I'm beginning to turn.

I stand in front of Vlad with my back to him, I raise my arm behind me and pull his head down towards my neck. "If you love me, make me yours." I feel bad for the bidders as they look on in terror as Dracula takes out his canines and begins to bite my neck. I need him to drink a little and begin to move myself into a certain position... he's so tall, this should be easy. I grab a hold of his neck tighter as if to urge him on and I arch my back as if he was filling me with pleasure. I reach under my jacket as he looks down on me.... I make it look like I am trying to cup my breast underneath, I can feel a smile form on his lips as he slowly drinks my blood. With one hand, he holds my head up high, his other continues to hover over the area of the bidders to keep them still. I then shift the weapon underneath me, press myself hard against chest and aim the weapon towards his heart... I press the button and the silver blade plunges through an area under my ribcage all the way through, straight to his heart. We both fall backwards as I make sure the blade stays in place a bit longer.

"Nooooooo..." I hear a scream coming from Vlad... "why? My love, why?!!!" I try to keep myself conscious and yell out... "Luke, now!" Luke comes running down the stairs with the sword in hand. I pull myself off Dracula holding the impaled weapon against my abdomen, keeping it in place as Luke instructed. The fire in Vlad's eyes begins to fade as Luke comes into view and slashes his head off in one clean strike. "Goodbye forever my love." I whisper as I lay sideways on the floor. The bidders now loose from their constraint begin to move... Eisuke rushes over me along with Luke "Elizabetha, no, no.... I won't let you leave me, I won't allow you to..." Luke yells at Eisuke "pull yourself together man, we planned for this! Help me get her to Baba's suite, now...all my stuff is there so that I can operate on her now!" those are the last words I hear before passing out from the pain.

TWO DAYS LATER – EISUKE'S POV Elizabetha knew that Dracula would know what we were up to, so, she came up with the only plan she knew would work. She risked her life to end his, to save all of us. But she made sure that she would be okay. She's been asleep for two days... but her body went through a lot. She had angled the weapon perfectly to where she would have no organ damage, however, her body still took quite a beating, especially with the lack of blood. Some of us had to donate blood that night to keep her from dying.

I sit here and look at her as she sleeps peacefully when suddenly she stirs. "Mnnnhh... Eisuke?" I lean down and kiss her as she continues to try to wake up. Her eyes widen as she looks at me with a smile, then begins to panic "is he? Did we get him?..." I stroke her hair to calm her down "yes, he's gone and all of us are safe, thanks to you." She begins to cry in relief and I hold her gently. "Finally my soul can rest" she whispers in my ear "I didn't think I could ever be happy again, not with this vicious cycle... he tried many times before to get me... each time a chance at a new life just thrown away." To her, her previous lifetimes seem to be fused together, it is incredibly sad to think of all the pain she has carried. "Eisuke, I want to be with you, with the guys, I want us all to be happy" I smile back at her "I'm never letting you go, not even if you try to make me, I own you, all of you." With those words she pulls me to her and kisses me deeply like before... this woman drives me crazy. I know that from here on out, things can only get more interesting.

THE END?

#kbtbb #voltage #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb halloween

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fair-fae · 8 years ago

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I’m going to tell you a story, because I don’t know what else to do with this information or how to process it lmao.

I had some problems finding my place in XIV and its community at first when I started playing at 2.0′s launch and it nearly caused me to quit the game. And a huge portion of this problem was a girl who played a Miqo’te named something along the lines of R’aenah (the character has no doubt long since been deleted or renamed). I started 2.0 with @its-the-val-pal, who had played my character’s husband in our previous MMO, and we decided to reroll similar characters here. We intended for our characters to become romantically involved again, but we didn’t want their relationship to feel rushed or forced, so we waited for it to happen organically, if it were to work out at all. But being new to the game (or, rather, the game and community itself being new), we were trying to make new contacts, and one who’d shown interest in Val was R’aenah. Her character almost immediately proved to be sexually attracted to his, and idgaf, IC is IC and she could have been thirsting for him OOC for all I cared. Our characters weren’t even dating yet. We have no OOC involvement. No skin off my back. At first. RPing with Val quickly became impossible, especially anything that was one-on-one or would help push our characters’ relationship in the direction we were hoping. I was still low level, so we could only (safely) RP in so many places. We both only had so much time to dedicate to FFXIV which didn’t always overlap, and we were both still trying to level. We didn’t have a ton of time to RP. R’aenah began to crash every single one of our RP’s. As soon as she saw us online in the same area, she’d run around until she found our characters and immediately swoop in IC. Due to the IC dynamics between the characters at the same time, the scene always played out the same. R’aenah would barge in no matter what was happening to immediately try to convince Val to sleep with her and drag him off for sex or other alone time right then and there, and make some jabs at Faye in the process. Val, single and at his maximum horndogness and probably the peak of his sexual frustration, would be intrigued. Faye would be like “wtf are you doing, you’re my bodyguard, you’re not supposed to ditch me to sleep with random women (especially ones being super bitchy to me) while you’re on the job.” And then R’aenah would start hurling insults at Faye for trying to cockblock her, Val would take R’aenah’s side and even join in because as far as he was concerned she was the one putting out and Faye was his snobby employer who kept rejecting him, and Faye would get furious until the situation would escalate to the two of them having a good ol’ Faye roastfest until she stormed off and they could flirt or bang in peace. And it was frustrating. I didn’t really care what was happening IC. But I did care that I couldn’t enjoy RP with my RP partner anymore on an OOC level because it either never happened, or wasn’t fun when it did. Faye was either quickly edged out of any RP we tried to do, or I’d have to sit through an RP of two characters trying to get laid with each other meanwhile harassing my character nonstop, which proved to be not fun RP content after a while, and also made little sense from a meta standpoint because Faye wouldn’t just hang around and endure that. But the source of the problem was IC, and I didn’t want anyone to have to censor or change how their characters naturally behaved, so I kept my mouth shut about my frustrations. But things quickly bled over into OOC. R’aenah started telling Val things like how he owed her RP, he needed to spend more time with her, he should spend less time with me, he had already been RPing with me enough (even though the reason we had to try to schedule so many RP’s is because we had no quality time RPing together because she crashed them all). He tried to explain to her that we’d been friends for two years, that we hoped/intended for Faye and Val to get together, that I was his primary RP partner, but that meant nothing because apparently some rando with no relation to him IC or OOC trumped that because she said so. I began to realize the things she was doing IC weren’t just her character’s personality coupled with some OOC obliviousness to our space and time together but were part of some weird agenda to cut me out of Val’s RP time so she could monopolize all his character’s time and make sure he never got together with Faye. That didn’t fly for long. We cut ties with her, I told her to fuck off, she called me a bitch/cunt/etc. and said she was quitting the game forever, we’d never see her again, yadda yadda. TWO GODDAMN YEARS LATER. A girl joined my FC playing an Elezen. She gave no indication that she knew either of us and did not state in her app that she’d played another character or under another name. She was fine and normal at first. Eventually, one evening I noticed her character had some IC jealousy issues and was acting extremely petty. It sent up red flags for me since 90% of the time I’ve seen that, it’s bled OOC. I wasn’t surprised when I got a message the very next day from the same girl she’d been harassing IC telling me the same thing had been happening OOC. So I sat her down, we had a talk, told her that shit wasn’t gonna happen again, and to my knowledge she chilled out... on that single front. She started dating a dude in the FC, he bought a plane ticket for them to visit each other. Another girl who’d had experiences with the same guy told her it wasn’t a good idea. She immediately broke up with the dude and cancelled their plans to meet. She started mocking the dude to someone in private about how he hadn’t been able to get it up to exchange nudes with her. Thanks, tmi. She met up IRL with a couple other people from the FC and apparently hooked up with one of them. Tmi again, thanks, why do people tell me about these things. She got super jealous and abusive with the person she hooked up with IRL. Despite all these things, she goes on and on about how ERP is disgusting and tries to shame people in the FC who admit to doing it. Drama from all these things ensued. She eventually got kicked for said drama. I’m mean and evil for kicking her for “no reason,” etc. A few months passed. Some ERP-for-gil courtesan starts chatting at me OOC and gushes about my character and tells me how much she wants to RP. We get a few posts in and suddenly it’s too late and she’s tired and has to go right now. She apologizes profusely and promises to RP another time. It never happens. On multiple occasions, she stands across the room from my character for hours with my RP flag up, but she doesn’t approach me and I don’t hear from her OOC about it again. Courtesan, however, does contact Val one day and says we seem really nice, it’s so weird her roommate really hates us. She tells Val her roommate is the Elezen girl who was kicked from our FC. Weird, confusing, and bizarrely coincidental, but hey. Neither of us hear from courtesan again. She name changed and fantasia’d several times and I’ve lost track of who she even is on my friends list since then. A few more months passed. Tonight, Val and I are reminiscing about some of the really crazy stuff that happened to us when we started playing. “I bet half these people who told us they’re ‘quitting forever’ after they got caught being creepy/jerks are long since playing again with new names or characters.” We get nosy so we look into a few. We dig up R’aenah’s old, long abandoned RPC profile. Lo and behold, it no longer lists R’aenah as her character... but instead, the name of the Elezen who’d stirred up all that drama in our FC. For like a year??? This girl who had almost made me give up on the game yet boo-hoo’d about how I made her “quit forever”??? was in my FC??? that we led??? certainly knowing it was us since we’re playing the same characters with the same looks and names and personalities and same FC name and acronym since launch??? not saying a word about it to us??? acting all buddy-buddy with us both??? coming to me for advice for her problems??? whining to me about all the drama she stirred up herself in the fc??? acting like it was unjust she got kicked for it??? completely hiding who she was all that time??? What the fuck? So that is my story. Balmung may seem to have a huge number of people are who are creepers or assholes. Apparently half of them are the same people just pretending to be someone else. Idk if that’s reassuring or even more unsettling. But, y’know, there ya go. (and I was already a little rattled because today someone asked to join my closed FC and a quick google search revealed it was a girl who’d hated me and been out for my blood in TERA)

SO YEAH, THAT’S MY FUN STORYTIME, HAVE A GOOD NIGHT AND FURIOUSLY GOOGLE EVERYONE YOU MEET

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liamakorn · 8 years ago

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Never Tell Them

Pairing: Crowley x OC (female)

Word Count: 7474

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrom to the max, babes, omfg. Angst. Fluff. Profanity. Mentions of abuse, mentions of rape. be careful if that triggers you, friend. Ummm, Crowley might be a bit out of character??? I really bumped up the romance, okay, I just really miss my king X’3 ALSO THIS IS TOTALLY OUT OF SYN WITH THE ACTUAL TIMELINE,OKAY. IT’S ALL OVER THE PLACE, i’M SRY ^w^

Summary: Okay, so. I suck at summaries, but here I go. There’s a new supernatural weapon of mass destruction in town. Sam and Dean wanna get rid of it. Crowley wants to use it (also Heaven rlly wants it too but, that isn’t really mentioned in the story, just fyi). Crowley gets his demons to kidnap OC (Elizabeth Carter), long time friend of the Winchester. He thinks she has it, she does not, obvi. Alot of torture, all for nothing. Or so they thought, but LO AND BEHOLD, LOVE HAS BLOSSOMED in a very not healthy way, like seriously, you are being tortured, girl, I know Mark Sheppard is super sexy, but lock it up.

Anyway. Hopefully, you enjoy this little blob I made. It’s really fucking sappy, I laughed, I cried, I threw up in my mouth a little. (I also hella miss Meg, btw. She deserved better, ChuckDammit. :<)

“So.”

There came that voice again. A dreadful, nerve fraying-ly sexy voice laced with a false courtesy that continued to push each and every one of her buttons. It always started like this. He’d waltz in, crisp black suit adorning his figure, polite smile on his face, and ask the same, boring ass questions.

“How are you this fine evening?”

Slowly, she let her auburn gaze drift up to meet his dark one. A tired smirk lifted the corners of her chapped lips, voice rough and crackly.

“Better, now you’re here.”

An almost amused chuckle slipped from the man, clicking his tongue sarcastically.

“Flattery, my dear Elizabeth, will get you everywhere.”

Demeanor the epitome of calm, he brought a chair in front of her, flipping it to sit backwards in an infuriatingly casual way. Elizabeth’s gaze hardened, smirk slipping from her features.

“What d’you want, Crowley?”

He huffed, leaning his chin in his hand with a bored expression.

“You know what I want. Where’s the box?”

The blonde rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat as much she could with the chains and rope holding her still. They didn’t play with this whole interrogation thing, did they?

Her voice came out exasperated and patronizing when she next spoke.

“For the last time, you stupid, insolent prick, I don't, nor have I EVER, known where that god forsaken box is. Why don't you go torture someone with actual information for a change?”

Of course, the box being referred to was none other than Pandora’s very own. See, while most of the terrible things inside had already escaped, there were still millions of monstrous beasts waiting to be unleashed. Anyone with that kind of power could easily overrule Heaven, Hell, or even Purgatory. It had become the job of the Winchester boys to find it, and seal it away for good, before anything remotely supernatural could get their hands on it.

Problem? Crowley, the self proclaimed King of Hell, wanted the box. Bad. And he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goal. Including, kidnapping the Winchesters’ best friend, and hunting partner; Elizabeth Carter.

Another problem? She didn’t know jack.

Crowley sighed yet again, looking like he wanted to be anywhere apart from there. Scooting his chair closer, he was within reaching distance, a knife suddenly in his hand. His accent, previously soft and lilting, took on a hard edge, brandishing the weapon close to her face.

“Listen here, pet. I have no time for your games. This is very serious, quite life and death. So I’d appreciate a little less attitude. Understand?”

Liz raised an eyebrow, not remotely fazed by this poorly guised threat. She leaned forward, lips practically brushing his.

“I. Don't. Know. Shit. You’d think you’d take the hint by now.”

Growling, the Demon King slashed the blade against her cheek, blood flowing from the wound down the side of her face. She barely flinched, licking her smirking lips as some of the liquid landed in the area. Crowley stood, storming away from the platinum blonde in frustration. However, what she said next brought both confusion and curiosity to his mind.

“You do know what’ll happen if you get the box, right?”

______________________________________________________________

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pivoted, narrowing his eyes at the petite girl. In many ways, she could be considered beautiful. Even in those ratty conditions, it was visible. Light, almost white hair, now hanging in knotted, greasy clumps. Large orangey, yellowy, light brown eyes that shifted with a fire, bags clinging for dear life beneath them. A curvy, yet lean figure, with bones peaking beneath the skin due to lack of proper food. Still, she held that spark, that drive. To be perfectly honest, it fascinated him. To have spent weeks, almost a month in hell, enduring torture and rigorous interrogation, and still maintain a sense of humor? It was a very rare sight, indeed. But of course, he forced himself to ignore her beauty. Tore his gaze away from her full lips, focused in on those burning eyes as her statement drew him in.

A questioning quirk in his brow, Crowley graced her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“By all means. Do enlighten me.”

He wasn’t sure whether her proud smirk turned him on or pissed him off. It could really go either way. He decided for the latter at the girl’s condescending tone.

“Once you have it, it’ll be the perfect opportunity for Lucifer’s return. You’re lovely hag mother will steal it, right under your nose, and use it to gain Satan’s favour once more. Then the Apocalypse, yadda yadda, you know the drill. Humans die, no more deals, sad Crowley has no more fwiends.”

A mix between a smile and a pout formed on her lips. He would’ve been angry if she didn’t have such a good point. Crowley fought to keep an even tone.

“Now, kitten, you know me. I would never let that happen.”

The giggle that escaped Elizabeth’s mouth was maybe the most irritatingly lovely thing he’d ever heard.

“Aww, look at you. So sure of yourself. So confident.”

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, sending a flirty wink his way.

“I like arrogance in a man.”

The sarcasm was grating on Crowley’s nerves more and more as time went on. It frustrated him to no end, in more ways than one. So, he decided, he’d switch tactics.

A small smirk on his face, a click...click… followed the demon’s black dress shoes, echoing around the dungeon as he slowly made his way towards the bound woman. Taking his time, Crowley kneeled down, squatting in front of her to achieve eye level. The smallest quirk of his lips revealed his satisfaction as she jumped, the King’s fingertips just grazing her thigh. Of course, the skin on skin contact allowed him to feel her heartbeat as well as hear it -it had been racing since he’d entered the room, and only accelerated at the touch.

Hm. Interesting development.

Focusing his gaze unto hers, Crowley allowed himself a moment to examine her. Well. More like ogle. Though she might’ve thinned a bit since her arrival, the minor malnutrition had done nothing to diminish her figure. In fact, at least in his opinion, the lack of muscle definition only accentuated her curves, gave a more...feminine appeal to her look. Her hips stood out most to him. Wide, sloping into an amazingly thin waist, achieving an effortless hourglass shape. And in those booty shorts? He had a difficult time staying professional, if he was absolutely honest. Which he never was.

He only allowed himself a few seconds before focusing back on task. It was enough, though.

“You’re drooling, Majesty.”

Crowley raised his brows, feigning shock for a moment before digging his thumb into a relatively fresh wound on the inside of her leg. Biting his lip, he watched as she gripped the arms of her chair, trying to contain a scream. Emphasis on try. Crowley was reluctant to admit the...effect it had on him, but hey. He was just a boy, sitting in front of a girl, trying not to cum in his pants as she cried out in pain.

Leaning forward, he was genuinely surprised at her sudden smile, observing in fascination as Liz actually pressed her thigh closer to his hand. That, mixed with the fire dancing behind that auburn gaze, was quite easily the most erotic thing he’d ever been witness to.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, hot stuff.”

Slowly, almost gently, he removed his thumb from the wound, sucking the blood from the digit with an audible sigh. Goddammit...it was delicious. He’d never been one of those demons, but fuck, if all blood tasted like that, he might have to try. After a series of very R rated thoughts, all compressed in a single moment, Crowley ran a finger down Elizabeth’s cheek, tangling the same hand in her matted hair and tugging sharply as he stood, keeping her eyes on him. He didn't fail to notice the way her thighs clenched, lips parting as a sharp gasp filled her lungs. A low chuckle escaped his chest.

“Ooh. Kinky.”

Using slow, deliberate movements, Crowley leaned forward, his lips brushing hers for the second time in the past five minutes. He’d be lying to say his face didn’t tingle while this close to the honorary Winchester. It amused him greatly when her body, almost unconsciously, leaned up toward his, seeking friction on her otherwise neglected lips.

He wasn't stupid. She was a hunter. A bloody good one, at that. A natural actress. This could be a very clever ploy to get him off his guard. That, or, she was just very horny. Either way, he scolded himself, it doesn’t matter. This is an interrogation. Are you gonna torture her, or flirt her to death? This is business.

Of course it was. Just business. Just. Business. He knew that. Still. It took a few repetitions for his breathing to calm.

Just breezing by her lips and cheek, Crowley pressed his mouth just below her ear, murmuring in the most rumbling, sensual voice he could manage:

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Elizabeth. Just give me the box, and then...we can start the real fun, hm?”

Pulling away the tiniest bit, the demon caught her gaze, faces inches from each other. Suddenly her lips quirked. A rattle of chains was all he heard before his knife was out of his hand and being swung at his neck. Somehow, his guard had faltered, allowing the girl to slip her bonds, if only by one arm.

Thankfully, she was slow. Tired. It was easy to grip her wrist and slam it to the chair, practically snapping the bones in the process. Not so easy to stop imagining slamming her hands to the wall, ravaging her mouth and claiming her as his own. He practically groaned aloud at the cruelty in her eyes. That anger. Oh, the hate sex they could have…

Quickly, he wrapped the chains back around her arm, making sure to fasten the bonds extra tight. Squatting in front of her yet again, Crowley tutted, lightly tapping his fingers against her thigh.

“Now, now, darling. That wasn’t very nice, was it? Do it again, and I’ll have to punish you.”

A curt laugh.

“Nobody likes a tease, Crowley.”

Smile matching hers, the demon king stood, making his way towards the door with a sigh.

“Well, dear, when you’re ready to talk, just scream my name. Lord knows I’ll enjoy it.”

Then, with a final wink, he was gone, leaving Elizabeth in the darkness once more.

~~~~~~~~

The next time Crowley visited Elizabeth, maybe two weeks later, she seemed infinitely more tired. She barely managed to lift her gaze, that fire dimmed to mere embers. Her light hair fell in matted clumps, greasy and untamed. Her skin was marred with bruises and fresh wounds. Her clothes, mere torn rags by that point, hung off her frame, bones straining from underneath her flesh. From his vantage point, Crowley could make out deep scratches in the wooden arms of her chair, nails ripped back from their beds. Still, she managed a half-assed smirk, voice shaky and rough.

“Long time, no see, lover. Didja miss me?”

The King almost growled, a sickened twist in his stomach rattling him as he witnessed the damage done to his girl prisoner. He could barely manage a disinterested tone.

“Whatever happened to you, darling? You seemed much more lively last time I checked on you.”

Her attempted laugh made him flinch.

“Well, darling, some of your dogs took it upon themselves to get some info outta me.”

She gave the tiniest tilt of her head, smirk widening.

“There was a very pretty one yesterday. I think she liked me. The determination in her eyes, so desperate to please.”

She gave a sarcastic shiver.

“Gave me chills.”

A snarl found itself on Crowley’s lips. He couldn’t quite place the discomfort in his gut. Why did the thought of other hands touching the girl make him want to crush every bone in that demon’s body?

“And who would these demons be, if you don't mind me asking? I want names, kitten.”

Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the ceiling, over-dramatizing her thought process.

“Good thing you’re puppies are so chatty. Let’s see here...Jasper. Kenny. Elijah. Aaaannnddd…..Regina.”

Rejoining her hard gaze to his own, the petite woman was about to continue when a sudden coughing fit overtook her, small spatterings of blood covering her bare legs. Without thinking about it, Crowley snapped in a glass of water, perching on the arm of her chair before holding it up to the girl’s lips gingerly.

His voice was much too soft for his liking as he murmured,

“Drink up, darling.”

Taking a slow gulp of the cool beverage, Elizabeth gave him a strange look, exhaling shakily.

“....thank you.”

Crowley almost smiled. Almost. He caught himself, quickly resuming his uncaring attitude before she could notice.

“Yes, well. Can’t have you dying on us now, can we? Not when there’s still information to be had.”

Snapping his fingers, the water was gone, smirk set like stone on his lips. The demon didn't miss the subtle fall of Elizabeth’s face, almost as if she was...disappointed. Trying, and failing, not to read too far into that, Crowley stood; not before turning and asking the same question as always, though, this time much gentler.

“Where’s the box, Elizabeth?”

A tired shrug was all he got. Sighing, yet again, the Demon King left the small dungeon, determined on finding and setting an example of those wretched pigs who dared interrogate his prisoner.

“Food will be sent down in a small while, kitten. I expect you to eat every last bite. Lord knows you need the strength.”

He could’ve sworn he heard her sigh in relief.

~~~~~~~

It wasn’t more than a few days before Crowley went to see Elizabeth again. Then again, a week after that. Barely even a full 24 hours the next time. Each visit, he was pleased to see that she got a tad better since the one prior. He’d made an effort to keep his demons away, sending food and water down more frequently. He also made an effort to ignore the whispers of the kingdom, gossip being spread of her ‘special treatment’ and how maybe the King was a bit too fond of Miss Carter. Whatever. It was nonsense, anyway. Peasant talk. She wasn’t getting any special treatment. This was merely a tactic. To keep her alive. To make her comfortable. To get the information.

It was like a mantra in his head. Almost as if he was convincing himself.

As he crossed the guarded threshold, Elizabeth’s eyes darted up, a surprisingly genuine smile lighting her face. Though her voice was still hard and throaty, sarcasm oozing from her words, there was something about that innate reaction that tugged Crowley’s blackened heartstrings. He almost felt...guilty for holding her there, wrapped in chains, treated like a prisoner.

She is a prisoner, dumbass.

“Howdy, Growley. How’s my royal pain in the ass this fine evening?”

She paused, an almost Cas like expression crossing her face.

“Or is it day? I can't really tell down here, it’s all so boring.”

Crowley bit his lip to contain a grin, secretly relishing the nickname. It was moments like these, where the banter and bickering seemed almost friendly, that really messed with his head. He shouldn’t want to laugh at her jokes. He shouldn't want to stare into her eyes, mesmerized by the flames flickering in their auburn depths. Her laugh shouldn't make his heart pound like it did, her smile shouldn't give him that fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Disgusting. He was the King of goddamned Hell, he shouldn't be getting goddamned butterflies for this measly human.

And, yet, there he was.

Again, Crowley swung a chair around, leaning with the back of it facing Elizabeth. He could tell the nonchalance bothered her. That’s probably why he did it.

“Lizzy. Dear. All I need is a simple answer. Then you will be free to go wherever you choose. Paris, maybe. Italy. New York. Hell, back to Moose and Squirrel if that’s what you really want. It’s not difficult. Just tell me. Where. Is. The box?”

The heaviest possible sigh escaped her chest, then, almost as if these repetitions annoyed her. To be fair, they most likely did. That was sort of the point. Leaning as close to the demon as her chains would let her, Elizabeth startled him with the desperation in her tone, features soft for the first time he’d seen.

“Crowley. I really, truly have no idea where Pandora’s Box is. If I did, I would’ve told you ages ago. Even if it brought the Apocalypse. To be honest, I don't give a crap about the world. Humanity can burn for all I care. But I don't. Know.”

For a few seconds, there was silence. Crowley had multitudes of reasons not to believe her. After all. Hunter. Manipulator. Lying was kind of her forte. However, looking into her eyes, he couldn't help but want to trust her words. To unlock those restraints and set her free. But one thing still nagged at him.

Slowly, almost cautiously, the King stood from his perch, stepping around his chair to stand before the girl. Sometimes, he could forget how small she was. With a mouth like that, it was easy to neglect how truly fragile a human soul could be, even one as tough as hers. But now, he could see something; lurking in the back of her mind, standing just beyond the shadows.

He crouched before her, reminiscent of their previous meetings, a curious, wondering look upon his rugged face.

“Though I must admit, I am under every inclination to believe you… I am curious…”

He braced his hands on either side of her, thumbs grazing her outer thighs as he angled himself even closer, as if the proximity would easier reveal her secrets.

“...What makes you so keen on world destruction? As a member of the human race, you’d think you would be quite object to the idea of world wide extinction.”

As quick as it appeared, the softness subsided, gaze hardened like glass against his own dark one. When no answer came, a short chuckle emitted from the demon, smirk wide and amused.

“Ooh, sore subject, I see? Well, obviously something happened along the way to taint your view of your own species. Tell me,”

A growl seeped from the back of Elizabeth’s throat, but still he pressed on, determined to figure her out.

“Tell me, how old were you? You know, when you lost faith in humanity. 14? 20? Was it a boyfriend? A sister?”

Silence was his only answer, much to his dismay. Contrary to his flippant tone, Crowley was genuinely curious. However, it was obvious she was adverse to the subject, to say the least. So, hopping up, back on his feet, Crowley dared a bold move; he lightly tucked a loose strand of hair back behind Elizabeth’s ear, not missing the subtle flutter her eyes gave. Curiously, her gaze remained on the floor, as if...ashamed. Of what, Crowley couldn't be sure. At least, not for a few moments.

As he turned to leave, hand almost on the door, she piped up, tone low and murmuring, as if speaking too loud would be blasphemy.

“Seven.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, fingers frozen mid air as her answer washed over him.

“....I’m sorry?”

Her voice was shaky again, but for a much different reason than before.

“You asked when I lost faith. I was seven.”

Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Crowley’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. How could you come to such a cynical conclusion at seven bloody years old???

He was almost afraid to ask. But, apparently, he didn't have to. All through her speech, Elizabeth’s eyes remained cast on the floor, voice quiet, almost fearful of what saying this truth aloud could mean.

“It was February. A few days before my birthday. For some reason it had snowed during the day, I remember because I’d spent the entirety making snowmen. After every one, I prayed to a different angel, wishing to be taken far, far away...For social services to bring me to some orphanage, or to be kidnapped or something. I wasn’t sure exactly where I wanted to go, but...but, yeah. A few days before my birthday. It was nighttime, and all the people had gone to bed. Which meant it was time for the gross smelling amber stuff to come out. I know what it was now, but then?”

She gave a sad huff of a laugh.

“I was so naive. I thought it was a...a potion that made you angry. And violent. I thought it was evil. Some form of witchcraft, or something...Which is why I never made a sound as I waited for the nightly visit from my father.”

The way Elizabeth spit the word out, as if it tasted bad on her tongue, made Crowley’s gut twist. He wanted to ask her to stop. He knew where this was going.

Instead, he sat back down, eyes trained on her face even as hers remained downcast.

“Any minute, he would walk through the door, and...and...but then, there was yelling. The sound of glass breaking, a loud thump. Two gunshots. For a moment, I-

Her lip quivered, causing her to pause. Quickly, she regained her composure, even as her voice trembled with unshed tears. She seemed to be looking everywhere but at Crowley.

“For a moment, I hoped that maybe he’d offed himself. That he had shot the nanny, or the dog, and then himself. I prayed to every angel I could name that I was finally free. Or that someone had broken in. Had killed them all. That I was ne-ext.”

For the first time, Liz’ eyes drifted towards his, that fire he so loved snuffed by the memories.

“I was seven. And I hoped beyond hope that I was alone. Seven years old, and praying for death.”

Her gaze dropped yet again, mind caught up in the past.

“But my prayers went unanswered. My door slammed open, and there he was. Brandishing a still smoking shotgun as he glared at me with such hatred. Such anger. His own child, and he hated her guts.”

Suddenly, her tone evened, the thickness gone in a matter of moments. The next sentences were uttered in an almost terrifying monotone.

“He grabbed me by the hair, dragged me through the house, and tossed me outside without a second thought. Didn't bother with a coat. Or food. Just tossed me out like the trash I was. Didn’t spare a second when I screamed, tears freezing on my cheeks as I saw my mother, half her face missing and splattered on the wall. Maybe that was why I didn’t jump, or scream, when I heard a third gunshot. Why I didn't run for help. Why I didn’t pray. No angel had answered my calls. Nobody had saved me. I couldn’t rely on anyone. I didn’t just lose faith in my father, or in humanity. I lost faith in Heaven. In God. If he truly existed, if his angels were so good and just, they wouldn’t have left me alone. Left me to suffer, to die.”

A single tear slipped past her cheek, even as her beautiful face remained stoic and expressionless. Gradually, she glanced up, a new fire lit in her gaze, this one angry and vengeful, like a witch’s pyre.

“Is that what you wanted, Crowley? My sob story?”

For the first time in his entire existence, Crowley was speechless. What could he have said? There were no words to describe what he was feeling, no words to make it better. This was a very old, very infected wound, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

It wasn't until he was stood before her that he realized he’d been unconsciously walking, reaching for her restraints without having to think about it. Elizabeth’s face contorted in confusion as the shackles were removed, chains and rope untangled to let her loose. Without a word, Crowley snapped his fingers, transporting them outside some rusty old bunker.

Crowley couldn’t even force himself to look at her, afraid she’d see the emotion in his eyes, the anger burning in his chest as he thought of what’d happened to her.

“You’re free to go.”

The shock on her face was evident, auburn eyes wide, jaw slack.

“W-what?”

It took every ounce of self control he had not to kiss that dumbstruck look off her face.

“You don’t know where the box is. There’s no point in torturing you for info you don't have. I will just have to find some other way. In the meantime, you’re free. To go. This,”

The King gestured widely, focusing on the abandoned warehouse to keep from meeting her gaze.

“This, is the Winchester’s ‘secret hideout’. They’ll patch you up, keep you safe, all that jazz. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have very pressing matters to attend to. Tell Moose and Squirrel I said hello.”

Then, without giving her a chance to speak, Crowley snapped his fingers, returning to his throne with the biggest only a slight urge to return and snuggle kiss her senseless.

______________________________________________________________

What. In. The. FUCK. Just. Happened???

That was all Elizabeth could think for a solid five minutes, staring at the spot Crowley had been just moments before. It wasn't until the cold set in that she remembered, hey, she was kinda bleeding out all over the place. As quick as she could, the blonde limped towards the warehouse looking building, rapping as steadily as possible on the metal door. An iron slot was pulled back, eyes she knew all too well peeking out before widening almost comically, fumbling to yank to entrance open with a gasp.

“Elizabeth?!”

She tried for a reassuring smirk, only succeeding a grimace as she stumbled forward into Sam’s arms. Head against his chest, she could feel his heart quicken as he took in the blood, quickly lifting her and kicking the door closed as he rushed towards what looked like a library.

“DEAN! DEAN, C’MERE, IT’S LIZ!!!”

It wasn’t ten seconds later the man in question stumbled into the room, almost tripping in his haste. A short growl left his throat at the sight of her, not hesitating as he helped get the matted rags that used to be her clothes out of the way, while Sam searched for a first aid kit.

Elizabeth scoffed at the worried glances the older Winchester kept giving her, the sound forced and laced with pain.

“Don't worry about me, Thumper, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest up a few hours.”

Sam rolled his eyes, making his way over to investigate the wounds.

“I just need to rest up a few hours,” He mocked her, raising the pitch of his voice an octave to do so.

“There’s only serious damage done to my torso and limbs, it’s no biggie!”

Elizabeth deadpanned, ignoring the snickers coming from Dean.

“Are ya done, Sasquatch? Im kinda busy bleeding out here.”

There was no playfulness in Sam’s face as he cleaned up around the wounds, clenching his jaw every time she winced. It was silent for practically half an hour as they stitched her up, disinfecting as they went along. Finally, almost finished, Dean piped up.

“So, where were you, anyway? One day you just up and vanished! No note, all your stuff where you left it. I mean, we checked everywhere. Nobody had seen or heard from you in weeks!”

A soft sigh escaped the petite girl, glancing between the boys thoughtfully.

“...honestly?”

They nodded. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“Hell.”

The word resonated in the room, shock clearly painted on the faces of her ‘brothers’. It took a few seconds for them to find any words, even more to put them in a sensible order.

“Wait, wait...Hell?! You were in Hell?!?!”

She gave a small nod.

“Yeppers. I was on a supply run, when demons cornered me. I wasn't fast enough, and they got the upper hand. Apparently, Mr. Crowley is very interested in a case of ours, and thought I had answers. Which obviously...I didn't.”

At the mention of the demon, Dean’s jaw clenched, fists gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Even Sam, the usually calm one, seemed pissed, flipping his knife back and forth in his hands agitatedly.

Attempting to sit up, Elizabeth winced, landing back on the table with a thud. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke.

“...he wants the box.”

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, heaving a long sigh that slurred into the beginning of his sentence.

“Uuugghh, of course he does.”

Sam’s eyes furrowed, glancing over her wounded figure thoughtfully.

“Wait a minute...you’re pretty beat up.”

A bitch face.

“Oh really? Thanks for lettin’ me know, Sasquatch, I hadn’t noticed.”

He rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean: You couldn’t walk more than five feet on your own. How in the hell did you escape...well...Hell??”

Elizabeth opened her mouth. Closed it again. Began to talk, stopped.

After a few seconds of thinking, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“He...he let me go.”

The room went dead silent, both pairs of eyes trained on her face. Dean was the first to recover.

“He what?! Sorry, I thought you said he let you go.”

“....he did.”

Sam crossed his arms, while Dean threw his arms up in the air, looking the epitome of exasperated.

“W-why?! Why would he just let his hostage go, it doesn’t make sense! I mean, unless-”

The older brother suddenly stopped talking, causing Liz to glance up at him. His eyes told a story of possible betrayal. She didn't even need to hear him say it.

“Liz, did yo-”

“What? Dean, no. I would never!”

He held his hands by his face in a defensive manner.

“Liz, if you made a deal-”

Suddenly, she was angry. Angry at Dean for insinuating that, angry at Sam for just standing by and letting him, angry at Crowley for confusing her so much. Even those old, vengeful thoughts rammed their way into her skull, reverberating in her chest. She was angry at Heaven, and Hell, and everything in between. So pissed, she couldn’t even breathe.

“How could you even-”

And then, just as suddenly. She wasn’t. As Elizabeth thought about it, she hadn’t been angry in a long, long time. When she first started hunting, when she first met the boys and John, she was so vengeful. She was furious, at everything and anything. Every monster was her dad, every victim her mom. It faded ever so slightly over time, so gradual she hadn't noticed. Until she met Castiel. And Balthazar. And Gabriel. And suddenly, she was mad again. This time at Heaven, at all the angels in the sky who had heard her. Heard her cry, heard her pray, and did nothing.

But then....that faded, too. All the hatred she had felt, all that rage, melted into...fatigue.Routine. Elizabeth tried so hard to be angry at Dean, to will up a comeback, to start screaming. But....she couldn’t.

It was almost like they could sense her mood swing, could see the defeat in her eyes. Something more than if she’d made a deal, or bribed Crowley somehow. Sam straightened, going to stop her as she gripped the table for leverage, heaving herself to her feet. He reached, fingers brushing her arms.

“Liz, no, you’re gonna tear your stitches-”

“Don’t touch me!” She spat, stumbling to her feet.

Sam retreated as if he’d been burned. Which he might as well have. She’d never snapped at him. Ever. Not in the 19 years she’d known him. Even Dean seemed rattled, regret filling his gaze at what he’d said, how little he seemed to trust her. That’s not how he meant to come off. It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t looking. Instead, Liz limped her way down the hallway, slowly but surely moving towards one of the empty rooms she’d noticed while being stitched up. Neither stopped her as she slammed the door.

~~~~~~

She didn’t speak for weeks. Didn’t leave her room. Sam brought food, left it at the door. She wouldn’t take it if he was there. She’d never tell them why she did it. That being in a small space, alone, was comforting. That while she’d been tortured, those hours by herself had been a blessing, that she’d trained her mind to think “alone=alive”. That every small noise outside her door caused her to flinch, anticipating a demon to come back and carve into her again. She would never tell them about the nightmares. How she woke up at 3 in the morning, every morning, breathing heavy with tears running down her face, skin sticky with sweat. She’d never mention these things, not even when she finally walked into the kitchen one morning, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. Eating the breakfast Sam placed in front of her without a word. Reading quietly in the library. Staying there for hours, staring at the same pages, the same words.

She wouldn’t tell them when she slipped from the Bunker, to an old abandoned shrine a few miles away. She wouldn’t tell them how she’d easily broken in. She wouldn’t tell them when she spotted what they’d been looking for for months.

She wouldn’t tell them that she’d found Pandora’s box.

______________________________________________________________

As he appeared, Crowley furrowed his brow, confused. Looking her over, up and down, he almost didn’t recognize the ravishing woman in front of him. It’d been so long since he saw her actually healthy, he’d nearly forgotten how breathtaking she could be.

Elizabeth stood before the King, no long malnourished, yet not muscly as he expected. A loose pair of jeans adorned her long legs, paired with a stretched out shirt and boots. The tank top formed beautifully around her curves, cleavage ever present above the collar. Her hair looked soft, almost white curls falling elegantly around her shoulders. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. That fire, the blaze of justice and strength that he so loved, seemed...dull. Fake. Like she was trying so hard to seem alright, but she wasn't. It shouldn’t have hurt him like it did.

That’s when he noticed where they were. A crossroads. But nobody else was there.

He smirked, trying to put off his growing dread.

“Well, don't you look lovely, darling. Can't say I’m not happy to see you...but where could my client have gone? Don’t tell me you scared them off.”

“...you’re lookin’ at her.”

He almost winced.

Keeping up the whole ‘asshole king’ schtick, Crowley sighed, giving a pleasant smile.

“Come on, darling. Really? After all that fighting, now you wanna deal? I don't give second chances.”

Her smirk matched his own.

“You will if I have what you want.”

“What could you possibly have that I-”

He stopped. Tilted his head. Assessed her expression.

“....The box?”

The smallest inclination of her head. A real, giddy smile lit up his face. Finally.

But…

“Hold on...I thought you didn’t know where the bloody thing is?”

Crowley sarcastically gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

“I’m hurt.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a miniscule smile. Suddenly, she placed her own hand on her chest, matching his tone almost...playfully. He could barely hear her over the pounding in his ears.

“I would never lie to you, Growley. I had no idea where the box was, honestly.”

She dropped the act, spreading her arms wide.

“But now, I do.”

Again, he sighed, taking a few steps closer.

“And why, exactly, would I not just torture you for that information?”

A smartass shrug.

“Didn’t work before.”

“Yes, but, you didn’t have info then. Now, you do.” He murmured, mocking her words of before. She gave a fake pout, drawing Crowley’s attention to her full lips.

“Aww, your Majesty, I thought you loved polite conversation!”

She suddenly gave a wicked smile.

“And I know you love to deal.”

He couldn’t help but grin back.

“A woman after my own heart.”

Again, the King took a step towards her, merely a foot across from the small woman. From here, he could perfectly see the different flecks of yellow and orange in her eyes, bringing such warmth and passion into the auburn depths. There was something different, though. Something that he couldn’t quite place, but seemed awfully familiar. Still, he ignored it, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if bothered by the chill, when in fact he couldn’t feel a thing.

“So.”

Her gaze flicked to his, and it was only then he realized she was checking him out. Crowley smirked, winking playfully at the blonde. To his surprise, a soft blush dusted her cheeks. He forced himself to believe it was just the cold air.

He continued, staring deep into her eyes.

“Where’s the box?”

Elizabeth smirked, shrugging yet again.

“I can't tell you. Not until we deal. You get the box. I get what I’ve always wanted. I think it sounds pretty damn fair, don’t you?”

He shrugged back, just to annoy her. He loved the frustrated gleam in her eye.

“Perfectly. So, what can I do for you, love, hm? Money, fame...a Lithuanian prostitute?”

Slowly, in the seconds of silence that followed his statement, Elizabeth’s facade cracked, revealing the full expression he’d glimpsed minutes ago. That had seemed hauntingly familiar. He’d seen it when she was talking about her past. About being abused and raped and tossed away. It was pure defeat. Fatigue so deep, no amount of sleep could heal it.

Her next words felt like he’d been stabbed in the lungs.

“...kill me.”

______________________________________________________________

Elizabeth couldn’t read his face, which scared her more than anything. After her statement, his expression slackened, completely blank for the longest time. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, tone softer than she’d anticipated.

“Why?”

A sigh escaped her, eyes trained on the snow dusted dirt beneath her feet.

“Because I’m tired, Crowley. Tired of hunting. Tired of fighting. Tired of getting up every morning, dreading the day because it’ll just be more of the same. Going through the motions. Pretending to be there. Pretending to be angry, acting like I give a shit about what happens to the world.”

She looked at him then, astonished by the emotion in his gaze. She decided she was imagining it. He didn’t care. He was curious. He didn’t care. He didn't care.

“I’m so tired. So please. Just kill me. Hellhounds, maybe, to seem like I put up a fight. Just...please.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Crowley moved towards her, now a mere inch away. She could touch him if she wanted. Which she definitely didn’t want. At all. She did.

Then he pulled an angel blade from his jacket.

“Gladly.”

She almost flinched. But then, her eyes shifted, catching the motion of his hand as he flipped it to face towards him, point pressed against his sternum.

“Right after I kill myself.”

A gasp left her, hand grabbing the blade without her consent and dropping it to the ground. She stared at it, breathing hard as she realized what’d happened. How quick her reaction was. How strong the urge to protect him had been. How angry she was that he’d try and pull something like that.

“No.”

Feeling his fingertips on her chin, Elizabeth looked up, not even concealing the tears in her eyes. Crowley’s gaze was almost tender as he caught one beneath his thumb, wiping it away while maintaining eye contact. His next statement caught her completely off guard.

“Then don't ever, ask me to do that again. Understand?”

Though his tone was gentle, it left no room for argument. She couldn’t even nod. Just stood, confused, unconsciously leaning into his hand.

“...why?”

She hated how weak she sounded in that moment. Voice shaky, thick with tears, breathing fast and short. He took a while thinking, grazing his thumb over her lips while doing so. Eventually, he spoke, though not about what she expected. Or wanted.

“New deal.”

Though kind of disappointed, she nodded anyway, curious as to what this entailed. He had a mischievous gleam in his eye, drawing the tiniest of smiles from the blonde. He seemed to have that effect.

“New deal is: You show me where the box is...and I take you away from this life.”

Her smile grew, liking this deal already. A shaky laugh left her.

“H-how?”

“Simple, my dear. You could stop hunting. No more fighting, no more bruises. No more broken bones or broken hearts. You would live in luxury. Anything you could ever want...like a queen.”

Her breath halted, eyes widening. She didn’t dare let herself hope, but...could he mean..

Elizabeth’s voice was trembling with barely contained joy, expression melting into an impish grin. She hesitantly moved closer, their bodies almost pressed together by that point.

“And...w-whose queen would I be?”

His smirk softened to a fond smile, searching her gaze apprehensively.

“Well...mine, hopefully.”

She couldn’t help the face splitting smile that graced her lips, shocking even herself at the giggle that escaped her chest. She mischievously placing her arms on his shoulders as she pretended to think.

“Hmm...I dunno. Does Lucifer need a queen anytime soon?”

“That’s not funny.”

Even as the words were said, Crowley had a million dollar grin on his face, as if he just won the lottery. Which, unbeknownst to her, was exactly how he felt.

She still couldn’t believe how quickly he’d turned her mood around. Just an hour before, she was ready to die. Now? For the first time, in a long time, she was excited to live. Without pain. Without hunting.

Hunting.

Elizabeth grimaced, thinking of the Winchester boys. They were like her brothers, how could she just become the Queen of Hell, and not betray them? How could she hand over Pandora’s box, and allow Crowley to take over everything, and not hurt them in the process?

“Moose and Squirrel will not be harmed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Earth, pretty much, I’ll leave alone. No need to mess with the livestock.”

She gave a playful glare, only causing him to waggle his brows suggestively. After a few moments she couldn't help her laugh, leaning her forehead against his chest as her giggles faded. A soft sigh left the blonde as he wrapped his arms around her body, soft black material encasing her, trapping his body heat in to block the cold.

“So.”

His voice broke through her thoughts, causing her to look up into his dark eyes expectantly. He smirked and winked.

“Should we seal this deal, then?”

Pretending to be exasperated, Elizabeth heavily sighed, acting annoyed before reaching up and crashing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

She would never tell the Winchesters how close she came to death. She would never mention how relieved she’d been when Crowley pulled out the blade. Or how scared when he turned it on himself. She’d never tell them how soft his lips had been as she kissed him, relishing the dig of his fingers at her hips as he groaned, the embrace long in the making. She’d never tell them about showing him the crypt where the box was hidden, protected from all eyes in Ancient Greek letters even time had forgotten about. She’d never tell them about the first night she spent in Crowley’s castle, falling asleep quickly. How, for the first time in weeks, she slept soundly, waking more rested than she’d ever been. She’d never tell them the feeling of opening her eyes to see Crowley staring back, not having had to sleep yet staying by her side anyway, just to make sure she was alright. She would never tell the boys the rush of relief and peace she felt that morning. How, for the first time in her life, she was home. Even in this weird, unlikely romance, she felt safe. Warm.

She would never tell the Winchesters the story of her ascent to the throne, or of the love her and Crowley shared.

And she would never tell Crowley that, in finding him, and the passion and dedication he showed her everyday, she’d found it. What she’d been missing her whole life.

She’d never tell anybody but Castiel. That, in finding her king;

She’d found her faith.

(HUGS AND KISSES FOR ALL OKAY, LUV YA, BABES!!!! ~Ali)

#Supernatural #Crowley #My King #crowley x reader #crowley x oc #original #trigger warning: abuse #trigger warning: rape #My poor baby #Sappy af #all the fluff #hugs and kisses

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