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theartisticgamingwitch · 3 months

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How did a Art witch meet a Cyberpunk dragon?

Zodia, to people on the outside looking in, is a beautiful online city loaded with so many realms, adventure, and information.

Christina Conlin Also known as L1M80 logged in and lives in a town called Covehallow. It's a Tradeport on the northeast side of Astoria. She is an art witch in this artistic plane which is widely noted for its Polymaths and artistry. This is mainly why the police force is owned by the theoretically most corrupt mafia to ever exist. People can identify her by her dark chocolate almond-shaped eyes hidden by pastel blue reading glasses with small butterflies on the prescription side because she had far-sighted vision. She was deep in doubt as she was reading the latest crochet book by Ava Phoebe Parson. Her long, straight, fine, Void black to blood red at the tips hair is worn in a wavy, beachy ponytail. Her long bangs slightly blocked her right eye. She is on the slightly wide-hipped side for a 4'11" woman stuck in on the crowded train. Not that she's fat! She was just born like this. She blamed the gene pool roulette table. Mostly on her height. Today was a bit on the chilly side, so she chose to wear a pastel dress under a black sweater with various patches from bands and things she likes. She was on the Hermes 98 train for a reason. She was having a secret meeting with Rosalie Kendall Cadwell. Rosalie is a matchmaker in Tolos that got her swan friends paired up. As much as she appreciated their help, Christina just assumed she was a lost cause and that they were just doing this so she wouldn't act like she needed to barf when they were all cute with one another.

The ride lasted about an hour, and she arrived at this large house that looked like an old castle. It should have been torn down. How is it STILL STANDING?! The yard was decently large and was sort of neatly trimmed. Not too short for the grass to die but not too long for any HOA to harass. After a small breath, she put her book in her bag and went inside. The interior is done in colors that remind her of an old factory. Maybe it was once a woodworker's shop? It would explain the stone exterior. Also, besides that, her friends recommended this lady, and this house was once featured in a magazine series showcasing unusually-decorated homes. Gee, she wondered why.

"Hello?" She asked nervously, looking around and getting startled to see a woman in maybe her mid to late 30s poke out from the kitchen, and her aura intimidated Christina cause it puts her in the mindset that she is not in a good mood at 1st. She has hooded blue eyes that look like she hasn't slept in 2 days. Her thick, wavy, blonde hair is worn in a style that reminds anyone of a mysterious enchantress. She is very tall and has a narrow build. Her skin is porcelain, and her lips are so thin she almost thought she didn't have a mouth! Her wardrobe is risque as well. A red dress with slits on BOTH SIDES that looked like it was either in a burlesque show or is some rich matriarch. Talk about a GREAT 1st impression. "Ah, you must be L1M80… SIT SIIIIT! My name is Rosalie. I am SO HAPPY to finally meet you!" The woman said in a Russian accent. Christina nodded in acknowledgment and sat down nervously. "Y-you have a nice place." She said, trying to hide her nerves.

The woman looked at her up and down, seeing her mark as she took off the sweater. "Aren't you steampunk horse types supposed to have that assertive, extroverted personality? You seem to behave more like a jade mouse." Rosalie said a bit bitterly. Christina just stared, annoyed. "And aren't doves supposed to be nice?" she slightly sassed back. Rosalie glared back at her and showed her gray dove on her left arm." It's.a.GRAY.dove! I am not that pure and innocent!" Christina panics for a sec before bowing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude!" Rosalie takes a deep breath and sighs as they both sit down, a droid coming by and giving them tea. "Look, Dahling. From your paperwork and the phone call interview..you just want a simple life. I get that. Dahling, I do. But why come to me of all people?" Christina sighed and looked down at her tea. "A friend mentioned that you gave great advice when looking for love. And I was lonely..like sure I have friends, but I want my missing piece. Someone that won't burn me out .Someone that can detect that I'm about to burn out and put me somewhere quiet. And yet.." Rosalie looked up curiously. "I also want someone to show me what real fun is..what I'm missing out on." Rosalie then looked oddly amused. "Have you tried actually going out and saying hi to a guy you think is cute? It's not that hard." She said, drinking a blue liquid in her teacup. As she drinks, her body turns to more of a 16-year-old girl. Then on her computer, as she looked at her matchmaking profile, bricks of low self-esteem, shyness around people she doesn't know or trust, trauma with some men that sound or look intimidating, and INFP-T popped up, making the girl shocked and pity her a bit "That bad huh?" she asked, seeing her client nod. Rosalie nodded before reaching into the drawer to pull out a pendant and gently toss it to Christina. As she caught it, it pricked her finger. The amulet absorbs it like a hungry child and then turns from a clear crystal to a blood ruby red.

"What is it?" Chrissy asked curiously as she quickly found a bandaid in her purse. "Call it a type of good luck charm, sunshine." The woman said, smiling. "It'll help you find your match. Or matches since your mark is a special case." "Special?" Christina asked, and Rosalie hums, "You will see, dear." As Rosalie saw Christina leave, she smiled. "I finally found you. My beautiful Trojan horse. Have fun ruining what my ancestors helped build."

An hour or so later, Christina arrives home at her cottage. The place looked like a crafters paradise with one side being a painter's corner and then there's the other side where a worn-out pink plaid couch was where yarn patterns and semi-half-done yarn projects were on one side. Christina was emotionally drained from being on a crowded train for so long and feels like her social battery is almost dead. She sits on a stool near her gamer chair and looks at the amulet to get a better look at what that 568,597 credit appointment paid for. It was a cobalt blue dragon with sapphire blue eyes and its tail shaped like a heart and its claws holding the heart-shaped bloodstone. The design alone looked like something out of a magical girl anime. "How the fuck are you supposed to help? Also, you know you cost me about a year's worth of rent!?" she asked, looking at it slightly annoyed.

After saying that, she hears a ping from the computer screen and her witch avatar saying, "You have mail!" over and over. Christina sighs and types in her username and password, and gets into the email from Cypher Tech Guild. Her eyes widened more on the message.

Dear Miss L1M80,

My name is Adrian T Bellerose. Leader of the Cypher Tech. Yes, the same guild that builds not only our cities' security but also weapons of war and safety. I would be honored if you would join our guild. If you are worried about housing and benefits we will cover that free of charge. We would love a beautiful witch like yourself in our guild. Also i am interested in one of your paintings. I await your reply.

Signed

A.T Bellerose.

When reading this Christina blushed and thinks Beautiful? Me? This guy's standards must be sewer-level low or he says that to all the women in his pools. Also, is this guy SERIOUSLY USING A CELEB NAME FOR A SCAM!?! She looks at the amulet and then sighs. "What have I got to lose? Why not?" She takes a breath and starts emailing the reply.

Dear Mr. Bellerose,

Thank you sir for the kind request and offer. If you give me at least an hour to prepare the studio, You can surely come to do an interview.

Signed Christina Conlin.

"And send," she said as she pressed the enter button. And with that, she began cleaning and prepping for the visitor while listening to hard rock and metal music. She even wondered if her paintings or even her trash writings alone would be put in a museum or a bookstore that's in the higher-class area. She giggled at the thought, almost squeaking when she heard the doorbell. Almost forgetting he was arriving thinking it was her groceries. "Ok ok, I'm coming, can you hold your lack of…pan…ties."

What was in front of her as she opened the door wasn't the asshole grocery guy that tells her that she looks like a shut-in sponge that mooches off her parents. But the Matrix dragon himself, Adrian T Bellerose. His cobalt eyes can convince anyone of a deal or make them piss their pants with a glance. His matching short cobalt-blue hair is wild and untamed like the ocean in a storm. He was wearing a reflective black trench coat, a cobalt blue suit, work boots, and glasses that looked more like they could hack into her computer to see if it had anything useful. He overall looked like a guy who was frank, sincere, moody and had creative ideas all into one. The moment they locked eyes there was a twinge of pain in her left arm and his right arm. Her horse mark changed to a pastel coloring and his dragon was also steampunk, changing to a more pastel shine and their eyes had more sparkle.

Soulmate found beginning new questline.

This was Infront of them in a heart shaped screen.

After some silence, they realized what this meant. Soulmate binding. They were soulmates. Christina smiled nervously. "Exsqueeze me for one moment.." She said as she slowly closed the door and made a slight scream.

HOLY FUCKBALLS! Adrian Bellrose…MY SOULMATE! Ok ok….be calm…there is a 30-day pause for the binding… He might not love me back just yet..so just open the door and just.. do the sale. And explain that there MUST be some misunderstanding.

Christina takes a few panicked breaths trying to be as professional as HUMANLY possible and opens it again and sees he had the look of a kitten that just got adopted. This was gonna be a LONG month. "Sorry about that Mr. Bellro-" "Adrian…please…As my soulmate please call me Adrian..and yours?"

"Christina..now please come inside before my landlord assumes shit again. He already thinks I sell Fairy dust and pot on the side because I give teabags with my paintings and collect jars.."

Adrian walked in and looked around the studio. His interest in her as a soulmate activated his curiosity but now it peaked with her tastes. Homemade statues of things like frogs and fairies scattered around, a sphynx on a fairy-themed cat tree with a luxury bed with clear domes revealing their toe beans. Sketchbooks scattered about some open with written chicken scratch handwriting. He was loving this and wanted more. Normally women around him were haughty or bloodsuckers wanting only his money and an heir to get his company. He hates women like that but this one..she was somehow different. He can tell. Such a young-hearted one this girl is. Adrian thought with a smile.

With all these decorations, am I meant to be her soulmate?Her Oberon? Decent enough decor and some fine sketches though.

Christina comes back pulling out the 8x10 painting. He just adored it! seeing how she put work into it. He saw the water coloring brush strokes on the details of the trees and leaves, he can feel the emotions in each stroke and that she put in so much work. AND THIS WAS UP FOR 2 MONTHS! He pulled out his black credit card and his cellphone and Chrissy made a happy squeal of 'oh my god he's buying it.' But froze when he said. "I'll take your entire stock." He said as a blue screen appeared and he began going to the payment screen. He chuckled at Christina's now goldfish face. It was cute. "C-come again?" "Did I stutter?" He asked with a serious face. "N-n-no, sir. I just thought it was only 1 painting, not 20 paintings, and a lame statue of a lizard in a tophat. D-do you have?" She noticed him already calling someone to pick it up and sighs "Of course, you have someone to pick it up.." She was about to ask for his credit info but hears him say "How much is this place to buy?"

Excuse me? Is he BUYING MY COTTAGE NOW? "About 10 million credits… It is a single-bedroom studio" "So about pocket change.." He said in a slightly monotone voice. "YOU CALL 10 MILLION CREDITS POCKET CHANGE!" Adrian then looked at her confused "Why yes…oh you're part of the middle class of the island."Then he saw the sass of his new lover. Christina was not fond of being called poor. "Well no shit sherlock." Then he finished the credits and handed them to her. about 30 million credits in total.

Christina was shaking. She was just HANDED money to keep her studio and impove it into a dream home. She wanted to refuse it cause she ain't no gold digger. "NOnononononoo I can't take this. This is too much money!" she exclaimed gently and pushed the check away only for it to be gently pushed back into her hands. "Take it. The rules of this soulmate binding mean I have to take care of you, yes? And Your dream of a quiet place in the woods is quite nice. I am curious as to why you don't cater to city life however, I will not pry into your closet of skeletons until you are ready to share. I have my own skeleton closet myself. Well…it's more like a walk-in closet. With two floors."

Christina blinked in some shock, concern, and fear but eventually shook it off and smiled. This guy was quite sincere about his motives despite confessing to a two-floor skeleton closet.. "Ok ok, Romeo you can have a chance. But, if you want this to work we need to find a compromise between ourselves. Mostly because…I'm more country and arty and you're more technology… And shooting people in the face." Adrien was about to object but..the girl had a point.

After a proper conversation they agreed to give each other a gamers level of a chance. How hard could the quest be?

#full sail university #studyblr #interesting #story #alternate universe

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hvproductions · 4 years

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UPCOMING STORIES → BORN TO DIE SERIES: RUSSIAN ROULETTE

Genoveva Tsakova knew she would not make out of it alive. Vengeance on her mind for over 500 years, the woman thought of nothing else but driving a stake through the heart of Niklaus Mikaelson. Things, however, get complicated when a much older vampire starts to occupy her thoughts, and Genoveva is left with a decision she thought she would never have to face: vengeance or love?

#toalltheocsivelovedbefore #ocappreciation #allaboutocs #HopeVainProductions #Born To Die #Born To Die Series #Born To Die: Russian Roulette #Russian Roulette #The Originals #The Originals OC #Genoveva Tsakova #Upcoming Stories

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jin0 · 2 years

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THE EVE OF A CRUEL ANGEL'S THESIS

CHAPTER 1 : The threat of the hurricane

Pairing : Mafia!Stucky x Reader

Summary : After years of absence, you were thought to be dead. But here you were, alive and ready to take everything that was yours, or you'd die trying. And this time, you would take both of them with you.

Warning : 18+ ONLY, Minor DNI, canon level violence, mentions of murder, guns and blood, soft!dark, angst, fluff, trauma (mental and physical)

A/N : hope y'all will enjoy this story, it's about to be a ride :) let's just hope i don't stop it earlier

The cycle never stopped. Since you left, the cycle of torture that repeated each and every night, ripping away their time to rest and to feel peace for once. Their nights had been plagued by your absence, reminding him of your absence and the mistakes they’d made.

Waking up in cold sweat, shaking against each other and freezing under their heavy covers, they clawed at each other’s skin, the sensations they felt that night fresh in their memories despite the years that had passed. Everything was still raw, still too recent. Nothing would make the wounds heal, not even time or therapy. Nothing could fix them, not when they’d been the masters of their own demise, the key element to their pain. One could even raise that they’d hurt themselves entirely on their own.

These nights brought out a sickening feeling of longing and desperation born from your absence. How could one singular being be so contingent to another’s happiness ? How was it that after years of giving up on finding love they’d found you and you, with a touch as soft as a feather, managed to turn their world around ? Making them spin so fast that each step you took towards them made their palms sweat and their faces heat up.

You made grown man feel like teenagers in love.

The dreams plagued their nights and made themselves so alive that physical pain was the only way for them to get back to reality. Pain so intense that the bloodstains on their sheets were now common and impossible to give up on. Each night for the last five years, the nightmare would change, a Russian Roulette wheel of the worst days of their lives replaying non stop. Awake or asleep there was no difference when they’d suffocate either way without you.

This one nightmare, though, it was different. This nightmare, the one that kept them paralyzed, came from a good memory. One of their best memories of you actually, the last happy one they shared with you. The last day before the hurricane came and ruined it all.

They could see you, hear you, feel you. The tender touch of your fingers on their bare skins, waking them up from a long night of shared passion and love. They remembered it all, your fingers on their hair, their own hands all over you. They gripped, kissed, sucked and bit on everything they could, as if it would be the last time before they could do it again, or ever again. They’d been played by their own intuition in a way. Their entire souls screaming for you to be cherished before you disappeared. Could it be that they’d unconsciously prepared their own pain ? It was by their own hands but never planned. How could they plan to hurt you this badly ? And selfishly, to hurt themselves this badly ?

The sound of your voice was still fresh in their mind. They could hear it clearly, the way you whispered their names in a soft laugh that made their hearts leap. The sound of pure bliss that echoed out of you was what hurt the most, what broke them from inside. Because your love was like no other but they still found power in themselves to play with it.

Remembering how you’d moan their names in a whisper, how your body would find itself pushing towards theirs and rub all of your naked parts on theirs. They remembered your hands, your nose, your lips around their necks, grazing them and bringing out sounds that no one should ever hear from them. They could hear their own blood travel around their body and expose them to you. They’d been vulnerable with you and would be again if they ever had the chance, show you how deeply they’d missed you, how desperate they were to scream their fears to you instead of letting themselves be driven into the dark and down the wrong path.

Wishing was an easy thing to do, even more when it was your last resort. The men who had it all could only wish to find you again. But would they truly be different ? Or would they even try to be different ? They had changed, became colder, meaner after you’d left. You were a compass to them, guiding them towards more light. But they had no compass anymore, only a few friends that could lead them towards a better brighter solutions and not the meaningless kill. The killings had skyrocketed after your disappearance. Ruthless was not sufficient to describe them now. All that could be concluded was that they were not the men you’d loved, these men were gone, they’d left with you.

Incapable of sleeping any longer, they’d woken up and started the day early. About four hours earlier than expected.

With the lack of sleep came the terrible mood, and terrible was an understatement. The terror that spread through the gigantic house they owned was to be felt from miles away. They were in the worst mood ever and made it clear than anyone looking to cross them today would not see tomorrow.

By noon, three of their men were already dead, killed on sight, a bullet of their own personal guns piercing their forehead. The cockiest ones were always the first ones to leave this world. No apology was needed for disrespecting them. They’d been generous and not force you through a public humiliation. You’d simply pay with your life.

Nothing could calm them down and nothing would, not when they refused the help that could be given to them. Therapy would do nothing but annoy them more, and bringing up the idea when the day had barely started and seemed to be headed towards a bloodier end for whomever was bold enough.

By 2PM, the sixth kill had already happened and it was time for a necessary intervention from one of the few who’d manage to get away with just about anything.

As Sam Wilson walked into the building, his regular smirk on his face, the tense atmosphere slowly dissipated. Everyone that saw him walk in let out a breath of relief. Maybe the killings would stop for the day. Maybe for the week if they were lucky.

As soon as he entered their office, he shook his head in disapproval. The image of both man lazily sitting at their desks, looking off to the distance, it was common for him. He was used to it, a vision so regular that he had stopped asking if they were okay. For five years, the response had been the same, and so had been the threats that would follow.

“6 kills. 6 fucking kills and it’s 2:26 only. You wanna explain that ?” Ask the man as he sat down on a seat to face both.

Steve was the first up, standing to his full height and walking to the tray counting various bottles of expansive liquor. Half these bottles were empty and the others close to it. It was common to drink one glass, once in a while, but Sam knew better. He’d bought two of these bottles himself, less than a month ago. It was amazing to not see these two collapse because of alcohol poisoning already.

Sam Wilson had seen you and been your friend for a while when you were still present. He’d been the first one to treat you like you were your own person (which you were) and not some grand, magical being who had managed to steal the hearts of the two coldest men in the world. You’d succeeded and made them feel all over again, after years of only relying on each other for love, honesty and passion. It was you and no one else.

The drinking was one of the few things they’d slowly got better at, letting go of it when you weren’t around. They only wanted you to see their drunk selves. You’d see them and take care of them, while giving them the usual lecture. All of it was worth it though, the love you felt was real and so was theirs. All of it was real. So why did it all have to go so wrong ?

Pouring himself a drink that was clearly too full to be healthy, Sam watched as his long time friend took a sip before walking back to his seat, presenting the glass to his lover before sitting down by his side. The brunette twirled the amber colored liquid in the glass before chugging it. He threw the empty glass to the floor, not sparing it a single glance when it shattered and spread around the room.

Sam wanted to laugh at their behavior, less amused and more in disbelief. He was surprised to see how audacious both men seemed to be despite the true rundown of the events had led to their pain.

“Sam, you’re our friend and we value you. But don’t think that because we care about you in some way you can demand explanations from us. We control this entire territory, you answer to us.” Said the blond man, looking at him with a stern eyes.

“Oh cut the bullshit power trip Steve.” Chuckled the friend.

The black man stood up to spin his chair and sit with his chest facing the back of it. The knowing smile stretching his lips contrasted with the blank expressions both the men facing him seemed to carry. He had his own reasons to look so happy while they looked miserable. He had been right the whole time and swore they’d regret not listening to him. Now, they hadn’t even listened to you at the time so it was to be expected at least.

“Do you even see yourselves ? What the fuck happened to you both ? This isn’t the men I became great friends with and it certainly isn’t them men she lo-“

Before he could finish his sentence, he was stopped by a gain aimed at him, pointing straight towards his forehead. The sound of a chair falling had followed a little after and then the sound of the safety came. A common following of events, not different from the usual, the common trend since you’d disappeared. The only difference is that unlike the puny men who followed their orders like lap dogs, Sam had been given a chance. Or, to be correct, he’d been given the win.

“Don’t fucking say a single word. Or you’ll end up in a body bag too.” Snarled the brunette through gritted teeth.

“Oh really Buck ? You’re gonna kill me ? When you emptied all your bullets in that last man of yours ? Come on now, you’re getting sloppy. Might wanna lay off the booze there Buckaroo.” Chuckled Sam, walking away from the metal armed brunette.

“You know what’s funny about this whole thing ?” Asked Sam, smiling softly at the couple. “This could’ve been avoid. Had you listened to the people who had surrounded you for as long as you could remember and who had seen you grow into this world and into who you were, she’d still be here. And that’s why I’m still alive. That’s why Nat is still alive, and same thing for Tony. Because you know that unlike the lousy pieces of shit that talk shit about her, we’re not wrong. We know what happened and so do you. You know and it eats you alive. The knowledge that you brought this all on yourselves is killing you. And you’re going to make it everyone’s problem until you find her or until you get killed stupidly. The latter being the most likely.” Says the man nonchalantly. He had been repeating and saying these words for a while now and he’d never cease to repeat them.

Maybe it was extreme cockiness of unhealthy habits, but he expected this one, a bullet being fired and piercing through the room to be stopped by the wall. Sam had dodged, a simple move the side, not even his whole body, just his head. It was enough. He kept walking away, slowing pacing around the room and throwing a look at the gaping hold in the wall, marking of a bullet, regularly piercing this exact spot. It was just jokes and taunts but Sam was right, Bucky had gotten sloppy, or he was simply accepting the fact that he’d lost this battle and would keep on losing it.

You’d been like a little sister to him and he would make sure to torment them with as much deserved truth as possible.

Walking back to his things, Sam pulled out a manila envelope out of his coat and slammed it on the desk, in front of Steve. The man looked as if he was being tortured by his own thoughts, to out of it to pay attention or maybe trying his best to seem unbothered when the dark thoughts crossing his mind where so easy to read.

Looking off to the distance, both men stayed silent, processing the words and letting them sip into their being. They were the same, all the time. The order and tone might change from time to time but the meaning was always the same : it was all on them. We could argue that other factors played a big a part in the events leading to your disappearance, but the biggest one was them and it was undeniable.

His eyes dropped to the envelope before looking up to Sam who gestured for him to open it. Quickly opened, a file was inside. It contained various pictures, receipts and other documents kept only by the highest of the highest members of the mob, only accessible to the ones in control. These documents could only be accessed by a few and Sam was one of them.

Steve pulled out two prints of the same map but with different notes added to it. His interest in the document was shared by his best friend who got closer to the desk and took a look at all the others. Sam pointed to specific points on the maps, a grave look on his face.

“See this ? This was your estimated territories three months ago. And these are the same territories as of last week. You see how significantly smaller it is ? How much potential place you’re losing ? All the deals you were about to close ? That’s because somebody’s stealing all your allies. You’re losing both space and men Steve. And with our estimations, you’ll have nothing by the end of the year.”

For the first time since he’d been here, Sam could see the couple show emotions. More than annoyance but less than rage, both seemed to settle for anger, the kind that could only come to those of a certain standing in society. The kind of anger that only those in power could feel. Because standing on top of the pyramid were both Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes. And someone bellow them, daring enough to play a game that always ended with them winning and the opponent dying, was trying. More than trying, they were succeeding, taking multiple territories from them and all that right in front of them.

This was the beginning of a war. Someone was audacious enough to start a war against them. Audacious or stupid, maybe tired of living, it didn’t matter.

“Do you know who’s behind this ?” Asked Bucky, a frown on his face as he kept staring at the pieces of paper.

Sam searched through the file, pulling out a small note, hand written neatly but bare, with no envelope.

“This was dropped with the head of one of your man. No software recognizes the writing and we can’t find any prints on the paper.”

Dropping a piece of paper on the desk, it looked nothing like any kind of indication but it was. A simple piece of paper torn off the corner of a random sheet, the words written on it could never be misunderstood, not in this world.

“Where was the head dropped ?”

“At the bar’s doorstep. We had to close early so that Natasha could get to work and try to figure something out. We’re losing profit from staying close. This is more important than some turf war. Read it yourself.”

Pointing at the piece of paper, the words were clear.

Hope you won’t mind the new neighbor. Just trying to get settled, might take a little space too. You know, to bring back a little bit of equality around here. Might also have a little change in management. Feels like it’s time for you both to get knocked out of that throne you’ve been sitting in.

“You’ve got bigger things to worry about. There’s a newcomer on their way and they’re getting closer to the center. They’re getting closer to you. I said it would take about six months for your whole territory to be taken over. It’ll take less for whoever the fuck that new boss is to get Brooklyn. So get your head out of your ass and get ready. There’s a storm coming and you’re not going to win if you keep this up.”

Warnings were always good, always. Being warned of the hurricane that threatened the peace of the nice villagers was the way to save everyone, to survive. This was how you lived, by preparing for what was to come, by getting ready to fight whichever battles were sent to take you down.

But how would you survive a threat that was already there ?

Watching from afar, a strawberry flavored lolipop between your lips, you observed, assessed, analyzed. Letting the wind blow through the holes of your baggy jeans and all around your lightly covered body, you felt out of place here. This all looked so fancy and proper, far from what you’d chose to wear.

It didn’t matter anyway. You’d have it bend to fit you and not the other way around, not anymore.

This was your new routine, your new life. The mob had known you before, they had played you before. And something was telling you that they were not prepared in anyway for the hurricane. The villagers would have to learn to let go of their peace.

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zorlok-if · 2 years

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🎶 - What’s a song they really like?

For anyone you'd like! (Or all of them, if you've got the time!) ♡

Oh, tesoro, for you? I've got the time ❤️

Dev: House of the Rising Sun by The Animals

EJ: Joshua at Metro by 015B, Bigman

A/E: I Just Want the Truth, Baby by Born Cages

Lucía: Sátt by Ásgeir

Ciel: Anxiety by Palaye Royale

Danny: Avalanche by Bring Me the Horizon

The Celestial: Working for the Knife by Mitski

Rose: Tous les Mêmes by Stromae

[Secret RO]: Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Säens

Runner ups because I actually had more answers for this than I thought I would:

Dev: Bend by Chet Faker, Hotel California by Eagles

EJ: Russian Roulette by Red Velvet, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

A/E: Indigo Night by Tamino, Move by Taemin

Lucía: Alice by Tom Waits, Tu Sí Sabes Quererme by Natalia Lafourcade (feat. Los Macorinos)

Ciel: Used to the Darkness by Des Rocks, Monsters by Matchbook Romance

Danny: Go With the Flow by Queens of the Stone Age, 땡 by BTS

The Celestial: The Curse by Agnes Obel, Les Limites by Julien Doré

Rose: Sinner Like You by Parson James, Ndokulandela by Bongeziwe Mabandla

Secret RO: Die Schatten Werden Länger (Reprise) from Elisabeth, The Armed Man (A Mass for Peace): Sanctus by Karl Jenkins

#thanks for the ask ❤️#asks #ros #dev #ej #a/e #adam/eve #lucía #danny #the celestial #rose #lapinlunairegames #spotify #music #playlist #albie's choice

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ink-fireplace-coffee · 2 years

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okay, I'm really curious and I wanna know more about YASH. Do you have any Lore figured out for why people have powers? I mean, I read about the c-12 mutation, but why does a certain person get a certain power? Is it random? Or does it just happen. Why did Thira decide to become a therapist? How did she wind up doing it for people with powers? Was that always her plan? Why did the RSD choose her/how did they hear of her? And what about the RSD: are they actually "good guys" or are they trying to manipulate the heroes? What does the RSD think about the villains? (Do they need to die, or can they be "fixed"?)

Sorry for the massive spam of questions, but I'm v. curious about this story!! Stories revolving around superpowers are some of my favorites, because I really love the morality that gets pulled into all of it!! Seeing that morality was listed as one of the themes for YASH made me even more excited, not to mention positive portrayal of mental health stuff.

~ Morri 🗡(@memento-morri-writes)

oh my god I tried to resist the impulse to answer this ask when my exams were done BUT I can't soooo

thanks for asking Morri, and I hope you enjoy ranting hahaha

1. Im being completely shameless right now: the C-12 mutation comes from two different branches: one is My Hero Academia and the other is yours truly.

In case you are not familiar with My Hero Academia, people get their powers bc of an evolution of the species that leaves them without a tiny bone in one of the foot fingers (yes, so random).

Then there's my own thing: I have a genetic mutation called Factor 12 deficit or Hageman deficit and since last year more or less my whole live has gotten a but compromised about it? so I thought thst I might as well use it for something cool and give it abilities and powers (instead of you know playing Russian roulette everytime I get in a plane). The C part comes from Carmen bc I'm not original 👍🏻

Since the C-12 is a genetic mutation then you will get like this "families" or "blood lines" of people with abilities that have been increasing since it all started, and it's pretty weird for someone to not have the mutation but, of course, those people exist since genes don't usually work a 100% of the times (thanks, Mendel). Of course you have more chances of getting abilities if your parents have a higher percentage of the mutation themselves.

Now the type of ability is not in any way determined by whatever your parents have or don't. Usually it's a little of nature and nurture thing (so maybe if a pregnant person spends a lot of time by the sea, their child will have some kind of chances that their power has sth to do with the sea, but that's not "a given", there's always a lot of luck involved).

Another theory is more "mystical" and I like to call it The Zodiac Theory, because, as you might guess, it bases on the hypotheses that depending on the date, time and places you've born you will have one ability of another.

(this hypothesis does not explain however how pairs of twins do not have the same exact abilities, but it's a fun theory to have and has its lore like the zodiacs have irl. believe it or not is up to whoever at the end of the day)

2. Thira is what people in Clarelmar know as a Casualty Child: a child that has lost one or both paternal figures due to a major crisis (read a superhero battle) and she was in the system for the next eight years. She decided that, because there was nothing super about her, this was the only way she could help other kids and people who lost everything like her. It also impacted the fact that she experienced first hand a hero crying and being absolutely heartbroken once and, after talking to him, she discovered that heroes didn't have no one who could help them. So why couldn't she be the first? She vowed to the hero that she would find the way and, years later, the veteran found that Thira had graduated and opened her own clinic, and that was enough to put her in the RSD radar.

3. Ahh the RSD... they are interesting for sure. I do not think they manipulate heroes but more than the RSD are the heroes bosses in a way? Like just look at the name of the heroes' team: The Soldiers. think of them as pawns or minions who do the hard work and the RSD control the whole "this is legal" / "we will defend then from people trying to sue them for damages etc" and also the RSD has different areas of their work, not only the superheroes part: they also include social services for the Casuality Children, lawyers, indemnities, reconstruction plans and workers etc.

Villains can be "fixed" according to the RSD but usually when they are trapped these people prefer to uhh sacrifice themselves, which is why every once in a while there's a new completely different group of troublemakers (so in this case they are called The Hunters). Usually captured villains would get through jail and loads of "therapy" but (also) usually villains are those who the RSD let down years ago and the just seek revenge.

now the funny thing from yash is that even though morality is a big part of it I am going to blur so much the lines in between good and bad that my goal is that people don't see anyone as a Villain or Hero but just as a character with their own ideas (and problems). Also is your enemy still your enemy if you both work towards the same goal? it'll be nice to see how my set of misfits have to put aside their differences when sth else happens >:)

mental health has a lot to do bc as a psychology obsessed girl I just have to include it everywhere.... Also yash was my excuse to study psychopathology so I'm applying what I've learn to my characters but also doing research bc I'm neurotypical and I am in no way entitled to speak without listening and learning <3

this was very fun to answer and I love that you were curious!!!

#wip: yash #you are safe here #morri friend🗡️

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thermporia · 3 years

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Oh I absolutely want to hear about the other two. Tell me everything.

college is sapping my energy, so i will just write this in bulletpoint format. cw suicide self harm and all that fun stuff

poppy

funny little man

he has to constantly be on something, otherwise he is actually going to have a nervous breakdown. he has nervous breakdowns anyway.

he hates talking to people. hates it.

like, hed rather run a cheese grater up and down his arm. he has done this before, and will do it again.

he legitimately wants to die a lot of the time, but hes weirdly apprehensive about actually doing it.

he likes to play russian roulette with the LD50. will this dose kill me??? lets find out

his vision is horrible without glasses he cannot see jackshit

smells bad. id describe it as blood and isopropyl alcohol.

cant drive

hes stuck forks into sockets just to feel a little something

lives in the basement, with his 2d gf baiken (its a body pillow and its covered in everything imaginable)

hes pretty sure his insides are rotting and peppered with holes

he wants to prove it but he cant without dissecting himse-

he has the thought above and thinks its a great idea to quell his anxiety surrounding the theory

he literally gets hospitalized because of this (joke)

that one picture of the anime girl holding her hand out to you through a noose

he is constantly being tossed between "i could not care less. i want to return to the soil" and "i am going to die, i dont want to die yet"

weird fetish guy.

really weird fetish guy. hes playing 5d fetish chess.

iris

pathetic taller man

he owns a gun, i dont know how he got it. he calls it his raifu in private

raifu

he talks a lot of shit for someone who will legitimately cry if you dont think hes the coolest guy ever

"why wont people like me im an alpha male and im really smart"

he believes that he was meant to be born as a cis guy but is not because his mother ate a lot of tofu or something

like he will not eat soy bc he thinks itll fuck up his transition

he wears shoes that give him a height boost

he despises it when people are taller than him

hes trying really hard to be the cool unaffected aloof guy and hes just not very good at it and hes SO upset

he really likes how some of the people he hates present themselves but hed never say that

like hed wear dresses and even more pink, shit from claires? but no, hes so fucking obsessed with being "A Real Transgender".

even if he did, he'd still say hes A Real Trans and not a Trender bc (convoluted reason)

he falls for misinformation hook line and sinker if it slots in neatly with his worldview

he needs attention, affection, and adoration. without it, he withers like an overdramatic houseplant.

hed never do drugs by himself, but if you peer pressure him?? yeah.

he gets really offended by the idea of talking about sex stuff in public, like he wont shut up about keeping stuff in the bedroom

if you so much as imply you fuck he will not shut the fuck up

smells bad, like too much expensive cologne.

also a weird fetish guy, he hates this part of himself more than anything

#oc tag #iris #poppy #talk #anonymous

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lunarmoon09 · 3 years

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I want, to gamble, with my soul

Could be fun. Do I need it? No

If I lose jokes on them they have to piece it together

If I win I get their money and get one of their eyeballs

Why?

Cause why not

I want to make a grown man cry, cry with the tears of a guy who's been broken down to their bare minimum, and as they cry the tears that will renew my youth I will kick them to the ground, lean down towards their face with my foot on their chest and tell them, "You could've never hoped to beat me, god himself couldn't beat me at his own game of life, how could you?"

And as I break what little he had left and I laugh maniacally, I watch as he crawls out, slowly but scrambling to get up, and runs out the door, bloody eye, nothing to his name and now doomed to walk the earth forever knowing, he was born to lose.

After doing this for a while I crush the wrong guy, the son of a mafia leader, they take me in the middle of the night, I was awake and they kill my company, as I leave more marks on them than he did on me.

The Leader tells me his son has lost everything he had, and would have lost the business if he had already had it, and thanks me for showing that he would have never run things as smoothly as he did.

That said, he knows I'm a threat, I could be an ally but it would be too risky, I'm known as a go with the flow mixed with ride or die type of person. He deems it right to have me killed, seeing the setbacks a better repercussion than letting me go.

He grabs his gun, a revolver, the one he fought many battles with, the one so many others have seen their fate ended with, he's about to pull the trigger when I suggest an offer.

Russian Roulette

Hes intrigued

I explain we will both use how ever many bullets we want and pull the trigger once each, whoever puts the most in with surviving wins, if we both die the mafia will go to his second in command, and we will both be given proper funerals, if the one who goes first dies the other automatically wins

The person who goes first is decided my a coin flip

He losses

He puts half the bullets in, cocks it, and pulls the trigger

click

He's alive

He hands me the gun

He knows he's won, the odds of me winning with 4 bullets is slim

I grab 5

He looks me dead in the eye

This is suicide

His face contorts as I stay calm, giving him a slight smile, one hand on my knee the other holding the gun to my head, and I pull the trigger

He realizes his mistake

He should've never tried to gamble with a crazy person, he realizes this now

I have won his business and he is to be kicked from the city at my command

He was a fool to think he had a chance, I knew his sons idiocy came from somewhere

His former second hand guard asks me, why put 5 when 4 would've been enough?

I grab his chin lean in close, and tell him

"Cause why not?"

#first post #russian roulette #short story #im bored #should be asleep #why not

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 4 years

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Inconsistencies in the Alex Rider Series

In Stormbreaker, "The Man with Eleven Fingers," Scorpia Rising, and possibly other books, it's stated that Jack became Alex's nanny when he was 7. In Snakehead, however, in Snakehead, it's stated that Jack was around when Alex was 4.

General Sarov is referred to as Colonel Sarov in "Spy Trap" and Major Sarov in Scorpia Rising.

Colonel Ali Manzour has 2 sons in Scorpia Rising, but in Never Say Die he has 4 daughters and no sons.

In Eagle Strike, it's stated that Yassen is 35. He met John when he was 19. In Russian Roulette, it says he's 28. Since both Russian Roulette and Scorpia agree that John left Scorpia around the time Alex was born and Alex is 14 in Stormbreaker, there's no way of reconciling all of the ages (unless you accept that Yassen lied in Russian Roulette).

In Snakehead, Ben Daniels is Fox. He has black hair and blue eyes. In Never Say Die, Alex recognizes Wolf as Ben Daniels. Wolf is black and has dark eyes.

In Stormbreaker, Alex knows how to drive, but he doesn't know how to drive in Scorpia Rising.

To be continued...

#alex rider #inconsistencies #plot holes

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irelise · 4 years

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Yassen Gregorovich - Books vs TV

With the excellent new Alex Rider tv show out, I thought I would make a comparison post for one of my old favs, Yassen Gregorovich, who has a somewhat different feel in the books as compared to the show! This post will largely cover the first book Stormbreaker and should theoretically contain no spoilers for the potential future arcs of the show, since the events of Stormbreaker are presumably non-canon now. (Spoilers abound for the episodes of the show already out, though!)

If there’s any interest, I’ll put up a second post covering Eagle Strike and some parts of Russian Roulette that delves deeper into Yassen and his complicated relationship with Alex. Just let me know!

Much like the show, Yassen was the one who killed Ian Rider. Unlike the show, however, he’s known to be active on the field and the first time we “encounter” him is prior to Alex’s first mission, where Mrs Jones gives Alex a warning:

She took out a black-and-white photograph and laid it on the table. It showed a man in a white T shirt and jeans. He was in his late twenties with light, close cropped hair, a smooth face, the body of a dancer. The photograph was slightly blurred. It had been taken from a distance, possibly with a hidden camera. “I want you to look at this,” she said.

"I’m looking."

“His name is Yassen Gregorovich. He was born in Russia, but he now works for many countries. Iraq has employed him. Also Serbia, Libya, and China.”

“What does he do?” Alex asked.

"He’s a contract killer, Alex. We believe it was he who killed Ian Rider.”

There was a long pause. Alex had almost managed to persuade himself that this whole business was just some sort of crazy adventure…a game. But looking at the cold face with its blank, hooded eyes, he felt something stirring inside him and knew it was fear. He remembered his uncle’s car, shattered by bullets. A man like this, a contract killer, would do the same to him. He wouldn’t even blink.

[…]

“Why are you telling me this now?” Alex asked. His mouth had gone dry.

"Because if you see him, if Yassen is anywhere near Sayle Enterprises, I want you to contact us at once."

“And then?"

“We’ll pull you out. It doesn’t matter how old you are, Alex. If Yassen finds out you’re working for us, he’ll kill you too.”

I always thought this was a pretty good introductory scene -- Yassen has a very deadly reputation in the books, which is established at once then hammered in over and over again. Other traits which come up again and again include his coldness and his dancer’s body which is totally something I’m into, gotta love those “elegant and deadly assassin” tropes

(also, yes, Yassen is blond in the books and definitely not a brunet or even a redhead as in the movie. he also doesn’t have a distinctive facial scar!)

Yassen doesn’t actually have many scenes in Stormbreaker, although the shadow of his presence looms pretty darkly over the narrative. Alex only runs into him twice on the mission: once from a distance -- A lean, fair-haired figure dressed in black detached himself from the assembly line and walked languidly toward a door that slid open to receive him -- and the other encounter also occurs from a distance, when Alex is spying on a mysterious delivery at the docks in the dead of the night...

And then the tower opened and a man climbed out, stretching himself in the cold morning air. Even without the half-moon, Alex would have recognized the sleek dancer’s body and the close cropped-hair of the man whose photograph he had seen only a few days before. It was Yassen Gregorovich. Alex stared at him with growing fear. This was the contract killer Mrs. Jones had told him about. The man who had murdered Ian Rider. He was dressed in grey overalls and sneakers. He was smiling. He was the last person Alex wanted to meet.

[…]

Meanwhile, the guards from Sayle Enterprises had formed a line stretching back almost to the point where the vehicles were parked. Yassen gave an order and, as Alex watched from behind the rocks, a metallic silver box with a vacuum seal appeared, held by unseen hands at the top of the submarine’s tower. Yassen himself passed it down to the first of the guards, who then passed it back up the line. About forty more boxes followed, one after another. It took almost an hour to unload the submarine. The men handled the boxes carefully. They obviously didn’t want to break whatever was inside.

By the end of the hour they were almost finished. The boxes were being repacked now into the back of the truck that Alex had vacated. And that was when it happened. One of the men, standing on the jetty, dropped one of the boxes. He managed to catch it again at the last minute, but even so it banged down heavily on the stone surface. Everyone stopped. Instantly. It was as if a switch had been thrown and Alex could almost feel the raw fear in the air.

Yassen was the first to recover. He darted forward along the jetty, moving like a cat, his feet making no sound. He reached the box and ran his hands over it, checking the seal, then nodded slowly. The metal wasn’t even dented.

With everyone so still Alex heard the exchange that followed.

“I’m sorry,” the guard said. “I won’t do that again.”

“No. You won’t,” Yassen agreed, and shot him.

Largely a reaffirmation of what we saw from the photograph scene, this time in person: Yassen is generally quiet, understated and deceptively relaxed -- up until the point he murders somebody without blinking. I think the show does a good job capturing that aspect of Yassen, with scenes like Ian’s death and Dr. Greif in the car coming to mind in particular. Gotta love that pairing of Yassen’s generally calm demeanour with the bursts of restrained yet lethal violence!

Some other minor but interesting character notes: despite being one of the most highly-paid and successful assassins in the world, Yassen is perfectly comfortable doing grunt work (passing boxes, dressing in shitty grey overalls). Similarly, despite being (presumably) more comfortable working alone, he’s also at ease with giving orders and coordinating large groups of people.

Now, moving onto the last time Yassen shows up in Stormbreaker. This is right at the end of the book after Alex successfully foils the plot of the big bad (Herod Sayle), only to get kidnapped by him while his guard is down. Sayle takes them to a rooftop where a helicopter is coming to whisk Sayle away, but first he wants to have some revenge...

"That’s my ticket out of here!” Sayle continued. “They’ll never find me! And one day I’ll be back. Next time, nothing will go wrong. And you won’t be here to stop me. This is the end for you! This is where you die!”

There was nothing Alex could do. Sayle raised the gun and took aim, his eyes wide, the pupils blacker than they had ever been, mere pinpricks in the bulging white.

There were two small explosive cracks.

Alex looked down, expecting to see blood. There was nothing. He couldn’t feel anything. Then Sayle staggered and fell onto his back. There were two gaping holes in his chest.

The helicopter landed in the center of the cross. The pilot got out.

Still holding the gun that had killed Herod Sayle, he walked over and examined the body, prodding it with his shoe. Satisfied, he nodded to himself, tucking the gun away. He had switched off the engine of the helicopter and behind him the blades slowed down and stopped. Alex stepped forward. The man seemed to notice him for the first time.

"You’re Yassen Gregorovich,” Alex said.

The Russian nodded. It was impossible to tell what was going on in his head. His clear blue eyes gave nothing away.

"Why did you kill him?” Alex asked.

“Those were my instructions.” There was no trace of an accent in his voice. He spoke softly, reasonably. “He had become an embarrassment. It was better this way."

"Not better for him.”

Yassen shrugged.

“What about me?” Alex asked.

The Russian ran his eyes over Alex, as if weighing him up. “I have no instructions concerning you,” he said.

"You’re not going to shoot me too?”

"Do I have any need to?”

There was a pause. The two of them gazed at each other over the corpse of Herod Sayle.

“You killed Ian Rider,” Alex said. “He was my uncle.”

Yassen shrugged. “I kill a lot of people"

“One day I’ll kill you.”

“A lot of people have tried.” Yassen smiled. “Believe me,” he said, “it would be better if we didn’t meet again. Go back to school. Go back to your life. And the next time they ask you, say no. Killing is for grown-ups and you’re still a child.”

He turned his back on Alex and climbed into the cabin. The blades started up, and a few seconds later, the helicopter rose back into the air. For a moment it hovered at the side of the building. Behind the glass, Yassen raised his hand. A gesture of friendship? A salute?

Alex raised his hand. The helicopter spun away.

Alex stood where he was, watching it, until it had disappeared in the dying light.

HOO BOY where to start! This is a longer scene compared to the rest but I love it so much, it’s probably the best part of Stormbreaker for me and obviously it’s fairly different from the show. I adore the last scene of the show since the tension was delightful, but this hit in a different way. Alex! And Yassen! Actually talking!!! It’s a sparse scene (like most of AH’s writing), but very atmospheric and loaded with meaning all the same.

Let’s start with the obvious stuff first - book!Yassen is fair-haired and blue-eyed (or grey, depending), and has a very measured way of speaking without any accent at all. He very much falls into the archetype of “inscrutable Russian assassin with a mysterious connection to the protagonist” and it’s delightful.

I do like the fact we only really see Yassen in person for two scenes in the entire book, and both times he kills someone ruthlessly and efficiently. (...yes, he did kill Sayle while piloting a helicopter) His reputation is well-deserved and I think the show does an excellent job with that too; every time we see Yassen on screen there’s a feeling that shit is about to go down and somebody is about to die.

The show also does a pretty good job hinting at the connection between Yassen and Alex (ughh Yassen’s expression when he sees Alex for the first time kills me every time). In Stormbreaker, Yassen does (initially) seem colder towards Alex, emotionless, just a man on a job. But even then, we get little hints of warmth shining through such as the way he smiles when Alex promises to kill him, and of course the salute! It’s pretty clear that Yassen has some measure of fondness for Alex, because no way an assassin would normally just let somebody go after they promised to kill him, even if that person is only a teenage boy (especially considering that teenage boy is driven by a desire to take revenge on his uncle’s killer). I also think it’s interesting that Alex reciprocates his salute. He’s clearly aware (even if only subconsciously) of the connection between the two of them.

Though I think what hits the hardest for me is the fact Yassen is the one to tell Alex that he belongs in school, that he’s a child and he shouldn’t be part of this world. Alex in the books is much, much lonelier compared to the show. There was no Jack or Tom there for him, since Jack was kept completely out of the loop and Tom doesn’t even exist in the book. Wolf and the K-Unit largely either ignored or bullied Alex. As for Blunt and Jones, Alex just saved thousands of kids in England yet the only thing MI6 tells him afterwards is that his actions can never be revealed to the public, his youth will make him useful for future missions, and then the only thing they give him is a doctor’s note(!!!) to explain his absence from school.

If that sounds all sorts of terrible and unfair, Alex agrees:

In the end the big difference between him and James Bond wasn’t a question of age. It was a question of loyalty. In the old days spies had done what they’d done because they loved their country, because they believed in what they were doing. But he’d never been given a choice.

Nowadays, spies weren’t employed. They were used.

And of all the people to point out how fucked up the whole situation is and how Alex needs to get out...it’s Yassen, the contract killer, his uncle’s murderer. And Yassen says it straight to Alex’s face instead of just making token protests about how wrong it is to send a teenage boy into danger and then doing it anyway. I think the moment had a fairly big impact on Alex, and I was sad it wasn’t included in the show, but ah well. Another time, maybe?

BONUS

OK i know this was meant to be a book vs tv show thing BUT I WOULD BE REMISS IN MY DUTIES NOT TO LINK TO THE LAST SCENE AS DEPICTED IN THE OLD MOVIE

‘2 minutes of questionable everything’ from the video description about sums it up. the violins. the closeness. the long lingering looks. “i’ll never forget you.”

Anyway, hope this was interesting and at least a bit informative! Do let me know there’s any interest in a part 2 of this post covering Eagle Strike and maybe a bit of Russian Roulette!

#alex rider #alex rider tv #yassen gregorovich #stormbreaker #anthony horowitz #meta #mild spoilers

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