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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

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Daddy's Little Girl Pt. III

Pt III: Revenge

Pt. I, Pt. II

(Technoblade x reader, and Wilbur x Reader)

(brother tubbo and sister reader)

~~~

Sam’s eyebrow twitched as he eyed The Blade wearily, who stood with his arms crossed completely void of any weaponry. So far the Blood God listened to Sam, he had disposed of all his weapons in the chest and complied with all the prison security procedures. It was rare to see, Technoblade having no weapons and Sam being completely decked out in armor. The only thing the creeper hybrid couldn’t pinpoint was the motive, why did Technoblade suddenly have an interest in visiting Dream, it just didn’t add up. To protect the sanctity of his prison he had to figure out just why Technoblade was visiting Pandora’s worst and only prisoner.

“Technoblade?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you here?”

“I already told you that, didn’t I? I’m here for a friendly chat with my good pal Dream.” Sam pressed his tongue to his teeth and frowned under his gas mask, “What? Don’t believe me? How rude. Are you this mean to all of the visitors who enter your prison?”

“You don’t exactly have the best reputation around,” Sam grunted, while Technoblade made a sound and adjusted the mask on his face.

“Who’s talking bad about me?”

“Tommy.”

“Tommy’s biased,” he scoffed watching the lava slowly descend in front of his eyes. Sam trained his green eyes on Dream across the way,

“Technoblade. Does this have anything to do with Wilbur’s revival? Cause whatever it is you’re thinking I can guarantee it’s not-”

“Sam has anyone ever taught you to mind your own fucking business?” Technoblade snarled baring his teeth at the warden. Sam blinked a few times his grip tightening on his trident, Technoblade stepped on the platform and it sent him forward. Dream’s head was tilted to the side, his dirty blonde hair fell across his shoulders. His bangs fell in front of his face as his head perked up seeing Technblade,

“Technoblade to what do I owe the pleasure?” Dream mused tapping his foot against the obsidian floor,

“Morning Dream.” Technoblade mused cracking his knuckles, “we have a lot to talk about, but I’m going to cut right to the chase. Give me the revive book.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dream mused innocently, “Does this have anything to do with Wilbur being revived? Or a certain lady goat hybrid?” Technoblade growled viciously, “Does the name (Y/n) ring any bells?”

“How the fuck do you know her name?”

“Oops did I hit a nerve?” Dream mused his lips curling up into a grotesque sneer, Technoblade’s fist balled at his sides trying to keep his composure and not listen to the roaring voices who demanded blood be spilled.

“Answer the question Dream,” Technoblade demanded through gritted teeth. Dream dared to laugh in his face, “I’m assuming Wilbur shared that information with you?” Dream hummed softly neither confirming nor denying The Blade’s statement but he got the picture. Dream kicked off the wall tilting his head to the side a coy smile on his lips,

“I met her, and not just her ghost.” Technoblade’s entire body froze and he pushed Dream against the wall, his fist was curled around his jumpsuit.

“How?”

“When I revived Wilbur. She was there in his limbo, what happened to her horns I wonder?” Technoblade snarled deep in his throat, “Wilbur left her there you know? Did he mention that to you?” Techno wasn’t a fool, he knew what Dream was trying to do but kept his composure, not letting the master manipulator get under his skin.

“That’s exactly why I’m here. You’re going to revive her or I’m revoking the favor I owe you. I don’t care about morals, I care about bringing her back to me.” Dream grit his teeth,

“Well, how do you expect me to do that without Ghost-(y/n)?”

“Who says I don’t have her?” Dream’s eyes bulged in his head, he saw no invisibility particles,

“SAM!” Dream tried to shout as Technoblade covered his mouth, Dream saw the wall rippled beside him as a very hesitant-looking ghost came through the wall. Not even Ghostbur was able to do something of that caliber, but she again was a ghost longer than he ever was, she must’ve picked up some fun little tricks. She floated over to Techno and hid behind his shoulder, her grey eyes looked up at him,

“You promise I’ll get to see Ghostbur again if I do this?”

“Of course sweet one,” Technoblade responded watching her nod gently. Technoblade loved the alive version of you, and when your ghost came to him sobbing about Ghostbur being gone and Alivebur not giving a single shit. She begged him for help and he answered her call, he failed to do so before, and he wasn’t going to let the same thing happen twice. You wanted to be with the sweet warmhearted version of Wilbur, who was he to stop you, plus he would have the alive you back.

When you came back Technoblade wouldn’t let Wilbur have you again, he wouldn’t let anyone else lay a hand on you. Well, other than your little brother of course, even if he was an ex-president Technoblade wasn’t evil.

“You still can’t make me do it!” Dream snarled as you hid deeper against Technoblade’s shoulder, “Sam won’t let you.”

“I think Sam’s going to have something else to worry about.”

A roaring sound of explosions went off nearby, Dream’s eyes widened in horror.

“That,” He smirked, “Is the power of the syndicate. Niki really knows how to come through in a pinch. I won’t ask again.”

Dream grumbled assessing his options, on one hand, he could revive you and he’d still have that favor over Technoblade. Yet, on the other hand, he couldn’t use your resurrection for more of those future favors. Dream clicked his tongue, although he could use that to his advantage if she was alive once more.

“Fine. Come here,” He held a hand out to the little ghost, she looked meekly at Technoblade. He nodded and motioned his head towards his outstretched hand, she took Dream’s hand, and he muttered some words in another tongue that even the great Technoblade couldn’t decipher. A bright light surrounded your ghost’s figure, and in a matter of moments you, the alive you stumbled forward. You gasped for breath as you fell against Technoblade’s chest, you had a bright white streak in your hair, and dried blood on your head and by your nubs. You were breathing heavily, pupils were blown wide, as you looked up at Technoblade. He felt his throat close up and he removed the mask on his face,

“Where am I? Who...Techo?” You gaped cupping his cheeks within your palms, he melted into your hands with a soft whine he tried to cover up. “Holy fuck you look so old!” Moment completely spoiled and ruined,

“Hey Dream I changed my mind.” You yelped hitting him softly on the arm, “kidding.” He spoke tenderly trying not to show his soft side around Dream, he was a tough killer, not someone who melted at the sight of his old childhood crush. Technoblade turned towards Dream and saluted, an arm wrapping around your waist, “sic semper tyrannis, Dream.” He mused disappearing with you, Dream should’ve known the Syndicate set up a stasis chamber for their leader.

Technoblade held you tight so you didn’t tumble over, you did look a little green in the face, “You alright?” He spoke softly as the fresh snow of the Tundra tickled your nose. You reached out your hand to touch the falling flakes, it was almost like you were mesmerized by the sight of them. “Sweet one?”

“I can feel them. I haven’t felt anything in so long,” You whispered brushing your hair out of your face. “Technoblade...Did you revive me?” He swallowed thickly, your eyes held a certain look to them, sharp but eager.

“I did.”

“Why?” You titled your head to the side, pursing your lips. He turned his head away from you to hide the flush to his cheeks, your frown seemed to deepen on your features. “Technoblade, why did you revive me? I’ve been dead for...god how long has it been for you?” You sighed heavily, “What use is there for you to bring me back?”

“Wilbur-”

“Don’t mention his fucking name!” You spat harshly, eyes flashing a dangerous shade of (e/c), “That son of a bitch!” Your hands clenched at your sides as Techno’s eyes widened, he wasn’t used to you cursing but it made sense. “He left me in his limbo after he promised me we’d leave together or not at all! I’m going to beat the shit out of the bastard!” You snarled as Technoblade reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, he squeezed it lightly.

“That’s why I revived you. You didn’t deserve to get left there, you deserved to be resurrected more than Wilbur did. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were like Ghostbur sooner, I’m sorry I didn’t know about revivals. You would’ve been my priority, you should’ve been my priority.” Techno stared into your eyes as the rage swimming in them dissipated, instead, they were replaced with a fond look. “I don’t know what you and Wilbur had, but ever since I found out about your death all those years ago, I don’t live a single day without regret. I should’ve pushed for you to stay with us and Tubbo, I should’ve killed your dad the minute I set eyes on the bastard. I should’ve listened to the voices-” Technoblade grit his teeth and it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek, he came back to you as soon as he felt your touch against his skin. “I’m so sorry.”

That was the first-ever apology you’ve ever gotten and you felt a tear roll down your cheek at his words. Technoblade looked at you hesitantly and pulled you into a hug, he made sure he was gentle as to not hurt you further, “Stay with me?”

“I promise.” You whispered burying your face in the crook of his neck, “Thank you Techno.”

Maybe things would be okay for you after all. Maybe this one was different, maybe Technoblade wouldn’t let you down like so many have done.

“What was it like? Coming back?” Technoblade asked as he leads you in the direction of his once retirement home. He watched you tilt your head to the side rolling your bottom lip between your teeth,

“A train came and picked me up.” You looked distant for a moment as you remembered your resurrection.

Ghostbur was peeking over his handful of cards to look over at you, “Go fish?”

“Ghostbur this is poker.” You sighed pinching the bridge of your nose, he made a soft ‘o’ with his mouth his brow furrowing. He shuffled in his spot eyes flicking down to his cards then back up at you, “You don’t remember how to play do you?” He shook his head no in response to your question. You sighed softly brushing away the annoyance that prickled against your skin, “That’s alright come here.” He shuffled next to you resting his chin on your shoulder, as you taught the ghost the rules of the game once more, it seemed no matter how often you taught the ghost the rules he’d always forget something.

“You’re a really good teacher.” He murmured against your shoulder, “I’m glad I’m not alone here.” He refused to meet your eyes, “but…”

“You’d rather it be ghost me huh?” You hummed looking at him out the corner of your eyes, he wilted under your gaze and you chuckled sadly. “Don’t look so upset I’m not insulted,” You waved him off carelessly, “you loved her?” He stiffened sitting up straight,

“I- I don’t- she’s my blue you know? She’s so kind and wonderful! I just- she doesn’t like to be left alone-!” You placed a palm over his mouth to shut him up, you eyed him before removing your hand slowly. The ghost swallowed thickly and nodded, “I love her a lot.” His voice cracked a little in embarrassment, you smiled sadly, your finger gently caressed his cheek.

“I know you do. Cause I know how much she loves you,” He turned redder as you sighed softly,

“Do you love Wilbur?”

You choked on your spit, your entire face turning a dark shade of red, “Do I WHAT?”

“Love Wilbur?” The ghost repeated curiously, “You were so upset when he left you here.” You grit your teeth and punched the ground of the train station, you thought about all the time the two of spent in limbo. You had grown so close to the man only to have him rip apart that connection in a matter of seconds boiled your blood.

“Yeah. I guess I did, but the motherfucker ruined that the moment he broke his promise.” You kissed your teeth in frustration running a hand through your hair, “Whatever love that was it is long gone I’m afraid. Especially since time moves so differently here, it’s been years since he left me behind.” Your eyes glazed over as Ghostbur gently wrapped you in a hug, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Alive me is kind of a douche.”

You burst into laughter, a bright smile spreading across your lips, “You’re not wrong Ghostbur, ya know you’re pretty alright.”

“You’re pretty alright too (Y/n).” A smile spread across his lips, in a matter of seconds that smile vanished as a train horn sounded in the distance. Your entire body froze as you whipped towards the sound, you felt the air around you grow hot and your mouth go dry. “Hey, Hey,” Ghostbur cupped your cheeks pulling you in his direction, “Focus on me. I won’t leave you.” The rumbling of the tracks grew louder as the both of you stood up, another horn blared causing you to flinch at the noise, ears twitching. The wind whipped both you and Ghostbur’s hair back, he held tightly to the beanie on his head not wanting it to fly away. The train screeched coming to a stop right in front of the both of you, immediately you recalled the same scenario, years prior only this time Ghostbur was by your side. The doors creaked open and fog poured into the station, inside was Dream, but by his side was a ghostly version of yourself. She was fiddling with her hands, almost anxiously,

“(Y/n)?” Ghostbur breathed his hand extending shakily towards the ghost version of yourself, her eyes lit up like stars.

“Bur?”

“This is your stop. Off.” Dream commanded, forcefully shoving her off of the vehicle, she landed gracefully in Ghostbur’s arms. He peppered her face with kisses, tears spilling down her cheeks,

“You’re okay. I’m here now.” He spoke softly running a pale hand through her hair, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to be with you,” Ghostbur looked a little surprised, turning his head to look at your figure. You and Dream seemed to be having a staring contest with one another, “Plus…” The ghost of yourself murmured, “Someone really wants her alive.” That snapped your attention away from Dream, brows furrowing in confusion,

“Who would-”

“Tik Tok, you getting on the train or not?” Dream snapped impatiently, your stomach churned at the thought of riding with the masked demon. On top of that who would want you alive? Definitely not Wilbur, he seemed pretty content on leaving you behind, unless he felt bad. You cursed the way your heart hopefully fluttered at the thought, Tubbo probably doesn’t understand how to bring you back there wasn’t anyone else. You glanced over at Ghostbur who was still holding your ghost close to his chest, he gave you a gentle nod,

“I’ll be alright. You’re not breaking any promises, I swear. Go with Dream.” He reassured as you stepped onto the train in front of you, the doors shut on Ghostbur and your ghost they shared a tender kiss and you smiled sadly from behind the glass.

“Who wants me revived Dream?” You asked voice tense as the train pulled out of the station, he scoffed pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“You’ll see. Just keep quiet or this is going to be a long trip for the both of us,” Dream turned back to the front of the train. You clenched your hands into fists and sat down in one of the train seats, Dream was right about one thing this was going to be a long train ride.

Technoblade placed a hand atop your head careful of your injured horns, you sighed looking up at him. Technoblade was never the best at comforting people, let alone comforting the newly revived but he would try, maybe not with words but with actions. He watched a smile spread across your lips, pink appearing on your cheekbones,

“Thank you for doing this for me...” You smiled softly, “Why else did you decide to bring me back to life Techno. I know you...there’s more to just your original explanation.”

Technoblade blinked in surprise and for a few moments he was silent, he was trying to process the proper words to describe why he did what he did. Plus Technoblade wasn’t any good with words, in the first place.

“I revived you because you never got a chance at life. You could be so good for this server, you’ve been hurt and done wrong even in death. If you want a peaceful life I can give that to you, or if you want revenge I can help with that too.” He watched your eyebrow quirk up into your head,

“Revenge?”

“On Dream, on Wilbur. Whatever you seek I’ll help you get it.”

“What if it means killing Wilbur a second time?”

Technoblade tensed his entire body stiffing, “If it comes to that yes.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

You reached up and brushed a finger across his cheek, he melted so easily into your hand, it was cold. “Lucky for you I’m not a murderer, but...revenge does sound very sweet,” You breathed eyes going half-lidded, “You’ll help me with that won’t you?”

“I’ve made a Syndicate,” Technoblade grunted, “Join it.”

“Yes. Thousand times yes.”

“You’ll need a greek alias,” Technoblade added as you both finally walked towards his house, smoke from the chimney curled in the distance and you smiled. You didn’t need another moment to think about it,

“Nemesis. What better than the Goddess of Revenge herself?” Technoblade hummed leading you inside, he seemed to deem that association representative of you and your goals. “Also, do you have any warm clothes?”

“None that will fit you,” He snorted and you huffed, blowing the white strand of hair out of your face. “Go upstairs see what you can throw together,” He motioned to the ladders "tea will be ready when you’re done.”

“Thank you Techno. For everything.” You whispered pecking him on the cheek before ascending the ladder in front of you. Technoblade stared at the spot you disappeared from for way longer than he should’ve, face a light pink. He was snapped out of his stupor by the teapot letting out a loud whistle signaling it was finished. Techno cleared his throat and poured both of you a cup, he remembered just how you liked it...or at least he thought he remembered. He heard the floorboards creak above him signaling you were moving around trying to find proper clothes for yourself, maybe he should’ve gotten more prepared.

Then again, that would have caused suspicion.

Once more he was snapped out of his thoughts by a loud knocking on his door. He grumbled under his breath and spotting a crow out his window, at least the guest was Phil. He opened the door and leaned against the frame, Phil stood there a nervous smile on his features,

“Uh hey mate.”

“What’s up Phil,” Technoblade’s ear twitched, “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“Ah, no worries, we won’t bother you then.”

“We?”

“Hello, big brother,” Wilbur mused with jazz hands popping out from behind his father’s elegant wings. Technoblade’s entire body tensed and he bared his teeth,

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

“We’re living together-”

“He can’t stay on my land.”

“Techno, mate he’s you’re brother.”

“Yeah Techno don’t you care about your revived brother.” He mused pushing past the blade and walking into his house, looking at the decor. “Wow! Your house is shit!” Technoblade spun on his heel, absolutely livid, “Oh? Two cups of tea? Are you expecting someone? A date maybe?” Wilbur snickered holding up the tea that was going to be given to (Y/n), “Cinnamon?” His eyebrows furrowed, “but you hate cinnamon-” They all turned towards the ladder hearing the wood creak beneath it, you had fashioned one of Technoblade’s white button-ups into a shirt. One of his thicker belts was hanging on your waist, sinching it like a corset typically would, the bottom of the shirt flared out beneath the belt. You had a pair of his black pants, they were the smallest pair he owned and luckily fit you decently, his boots however did not fit you that way, they looked like they were swallowing your ankles. Wilbur’s eyes blew wide, his jaw-dropping to the floor, it took all of Technoblade’s strength not to rush over and shield you from his brother’s gaze.

You weren’t Wilbur’s anymore, you were his.

“(Y/n)? Who? How? Look at you…” He said tenderly, the cigarette he was smoking dropped out of his mouth and onto the floor.

“Wilbur.”

“You...You revived her?” Wilbur turned to face Technoblade, “How did you manage to convince Dream-”

“Easily.” You said stiff voice cutting through the air like a blade, “Cause he tried.”

“Darling that’s not fair,” Wilbur grabbed your forearms squeezing them tightly, “I didn’t want to leave you behind-”

“Bullshit!” You snarled ripping yourself away from him like he was made of fire, “You left me without a second look! The minute you saw a way out you didn’t hesitate to take it, you broke your promise!”

“Are you still hung up on that?” He asked groaning, seeing he wasn’t going to get his way the considerate way, “I had a plan.”

“No, you didn’t! If you did you would’ve revived me right away, as Technoblade did!” You argued motioning to Technoblade with a snarl, he smirked at his brother who glowered at him. “You’re a bastard Wilbur Soot, I loved you but you just needed someone convenient to you. I was a convenience.” Wilbur didn’t even deny your words and for some reason that hurt you the most, “You’re just as bad as my dad.” Wilbur saw red and before you knew it you were pinned up against the wall, his fist was reeled back ready to hit you, and before Technoblade could intervene Phil moved first.

He grabbed his son’s fist out of the air and held it tight, he gently pushed Wilbur away from you. Wilbur growled and ripped his fist out of Phil’s hand, and shoved them into his pockets. You stayed flushed against the wall, hands balled into fists at your side, Phil glared at his son,

“Step outside. I’ll join you momentarily,” He told Wilbur the man grumbled flicking the lighter in his pocket.

“Fine. I needed a smoke anyway.” Wilbur scoffed marching towards the door not before giving you one last look over his shoulder. Technoblade tensed fingers twitching at his sides, just begging for Wilbur to try something towards you. “I hope we can have a calmer conversation once you’re settled in my dear, sleep well.” Wilbur mused adjusting his glasses, “I know you don’t mean those harsh words, you’re just exhausted.” Technoblade watched you grit your teeth as Wilbur exited his home, as soon as the door clicked shut you were surrounded by an entourage of feathers. You made a frightened sound but the grip on your body only tightened, you calmed down the moment you realized it was Phil. You couldn’t process why the old man was hugging you, he barely knew you, and if he did he probably only thought you were Tubbo’s protective older sister.

“Phil…” You whispered quietly and you felt wetness on the skin of your neck, was he crying?

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry.” His voice quivered against your neck and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You couldn’t see Technoblade over Phil’s wings but you hesitantly tried to peak over them to find your safety net.

“Why exactly...are you apologizing?” You asked hesitantly, hands gently resting on Phil’s lower back. He pulled away from you now it was his turn to be confused,

“You...I didn’t do anything to help you back with your father.”

“Oh, there’s nothing you could’ve done. Really it’s alright-”

“Alright?! Alright! (Y/n) he let you die!” Phil exclaimed wings puffing up in shock, “I was the adult, I saw what was happening to you and I didn’t do anything to put a stop to it. I took Tubbo in because you pleaded with me too and because he was a child, but so were you- close your mouth don’t argue with me- I should have forced you to stay with us. You could’ve gone and visited your father but I should’ve taken care of you, if I did...maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened.”

“But that wasn’t what I wanted…”

“I shouldn’t have mattered what you wanted. I should’ve overruled you as the responsible adult...although.” He laughed wetly pulling away from you, “Back then I wasn’t a responsible adult, I’ve learned so much.” Phil shook his head, he reached out and cupped your cheek, “I’ll do better by you, we all will.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before fully pulling away from your body, he turned toward Technoblade with a weak smile. “You take good care of her alright mate? Don’t let her cause too much trouble.”

“I will.” Techno said with a stern nod, “I promise.” Phil nodded at him before smiling back over at you, he gave a little salute before heading out of the door. Your brows furrowed and Techno walked over to you, “You alright?” He watched you shake your head and he wrapped you in a tight hug, “It’s okay I got you.” You buried your head in his chest, your shoulders began to shake and Technoblade brushed his fingers through your hair. “I won’t leave you sweet thing,” he whispered more to himself, you were so emotionally fragile.

He wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on you, if a single hair was out of place he’d paint the ground with their blood.

Frantic knocking startled him out of his stupor. Technoblade snarled against you and you felt his chest rumble, couldn’t he just be left alone for two seconds.

“You should answer,” You pulled away whipping your wet eyes on your sleeve “it might be important.”

“Nothings as important as you.” The knocking continued, just as loud and frantic and he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“It’s alright,” You smiled kissing his cheek, “open it.” Techno flushed and nodded opening the door so aggressively it was almost ripped off its hinges. Ranboo was outside and his brow furrowed. Ranboo wasn’t surprising but the government he was with sure was,

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t not tell him-”

Tubbo pushed past Technoblade releasing Ranboo’s claws from his hand. He lifted his bangs from his eyes to stare at you, oh my he’d gotten so big. The horns on his head curled around his ears mimicking your father’s, a golden ring fits snuggly on one of them. His hair was longer than you would’ve liked, it covered his beautiful eyes, but even so, it fits him well. The only thing that concerned you were the scars littering the left side of his face and body, and the nuclear symbol that seemed to replace his electric green eye on the same side. You saw his eyes grow glassy as he reached out to you, you couldn’t help but think he must be so disappointed in you. Your horns were nubs, ears were torn, your hair had a permanent streak of white, you probably looked so much older, so much weaker.

“(Y/n)?” His voice cracked stumbling forward to grasp your shoulders,

“Hey, bumblebee.” You spoke weakly holding up your hand, “You’ve gotten so big-” You were cut off by him engulfing you in a hug, you were taken aback, he should be screaming and yelling at you. Why wasn’t he angry?

“I missed you so much!” He sobbed against your chest, “Please, don’t ever leave me alone again.” He was trembling in your hold, his hands clutched at the back of Technoblade’s shirt, his breathing was shallow. “I love you,”

“I...I love you too Tubs…”

“Promise you won’t ever leave me again.”

“I promise.”

~~~ Wilbur "gaslight and gatekeep" Soot everybody Tag list:

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

#bnha 324 #uraraka ochako #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!

BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.

Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.

It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.

No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.

Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.

He had been free. He had.

But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.

Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.

But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.

Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.

But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.

Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.

Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.

And he fell.

And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.

He was alone.

Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.

Thanos enjoyed breaking him.

And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?

To pull something, anything, out of the fire?

(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)

So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.

Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.

Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.

Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.

Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?

Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.

He opened the door. “What-?”

“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.

Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.

“We need your help.”

“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”

“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”

“Practical experience in what?”

“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.

As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”

“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”

Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”

“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.

“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.

In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.

“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”

Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…

“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”

Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.

“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”

“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.

“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”

“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”

“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”

“It turned itself on?”

“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.

“Climbing,” said Coulson.

“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”

“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”

“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”

“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.

“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.

“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.

“Dr. Selvig!”

“Director!”

“What do we know?”

Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.

It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.

It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.

“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.

“Yeah, it’s—”

This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.

The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.

Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.

Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.

Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.

(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)

Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.

Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.

The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.

Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—

“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.

Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.

(The human part of it, anyway.)

Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…

Or else.

“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”

The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.

Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?

“A world free from what?” asked the human.

“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—

A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.

“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”

“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.

Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.

“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.

Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.

Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.

This was different, but the principle was the same.

Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.

Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.

“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”

And so, they followed.

Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.

Allies.

These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…

Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.

And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.

He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.

He was alone, here.

He was alone.

But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.

#danny phantom #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 28: alone #dannymay #danny phantom x marvel cinematic universe crossover #op!Danny/Marvel #Not much op!Danny yet tho

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m0ssxz0mbie · 2 years

Text

evan kelmp quotes i love

__________________________________________

Dream/Karen: is it because anything that you nurture and care for dies a horrible death?

Evan: they don’t all die! sometimes they do stuff- or they tell me to do stuff. sometimes- sometimes they don’t turn out to be animals. one time a— a pigs head in a butcher’s shop told me that god and the devil killed each other. so you know, in don’t know if that’s an animal or not. i don’t know if that’s an animal or not, and it’s been happening for a long time!

_________________________________________

random wizard kid: was two days ago when you sent Digby to hell?

Evan: i didn’t send him to hell. i didn’t send anyone to hell.

random wizard kid: no, no, no, cause- um *points* that kid over there said you sent Digby to hell. he said he saw it.

Evan: who said it, who said it?

random wizard kid: i don’t-

Evan: the kid over there?

random wizard kid: n-no-

Evan: i didn’t send anyone to hell.

random wizard kid: no, it’s, just, that’s what—

Dream: its- you know how rumours are… its just- you know,,

random wizard kid: that’s what we heard, that you sent him to hell, and then he came back and that’s why he was all sunburnt.

Evan: yeah, that’s what happens in hell, is you get sunburned, you get sunburned in hell.

random wizard kid: i don’t want to hug you anymore, i’m gonna go-

Evan: yeah- it’s hell, where famously the sun is, deep underground.

random wizard kid: well, it’d be like a burn-

Evan: like a burn, like he would get burned?? that’s not what happens in hell. hell is a dark forest where your dad opens his ribcage and invites you to dance.

__________________________________________

DM: speaking of killer, they announce the next rounds, and the moment Evan Kelmp’s name is announced, a massive section of adult wizards stand up.

they are wearing dark green jerseys with “Kelmp” across it, holding up big signs that say “Dark One” and losing their minds.

Evan: I DISAVOW YOU

adult wizards: (cheering) he’s the Dark One, oh my god! he’s gonna do a murder!

Evan: GET THERAPY

Dream: you don’t have to encourage this..

Evan: i understand.

DM: it is hard to hear. it got real loud in here. There’s a bunch of Aqrabus students are just, “Yay”

Evan: i think your whole house is bad. i think you should think about it for just 15 minutes. clearly bad, bad from the jump.

Whitney: hey, rock ‘em, big fella.

Evan: you got it, man. Hey, mess with the goat.

Whitney and Evan: GET THE HORNS! 🤘

Rosemont student: did you do that because you are a demon like they say?

Evan: oh good, you speak english. the next two minutes are gonna be really important for you.

Rosemont student: what are you doing?

Evan: you have some really critical decisions to make, and the first decision that you should really consider is conceding prior to the match.

Rosemont student: we’re talking this is very weird-

Evan: i’m not gonna hold back. those lunatics over there, the wizard nazis, they love my ass. they love me.

Rosemont student: i found that very concerning. i don’t enjoy being here

Evan: you should be concerned. so here’s the thing.

Rosemont student: i’m very-

Evan: you have probably about 90 seconds now to concede, and you really gotta think it through cause what’s gonna happen is this. i can’t guarantee what’s gonna happen to you. there’s no promise for your safety, there’s no promise for anything like that.

Rosemont student: i feel like you’re psyching me out right now.

Evan: it’s not psyching out. i’m doing the kindest thing i’ve ever done right now. about 60 seconds left, you really should concede. if you’re not gonna concede, what do you want me to tell your family?

Rosemont student takes a half step back.

Rosemont student: thank you. here’s the thing, this is a very prestigious thing, there’s money tied in it for our good…. i’m going to fight you. i don’t want you to kill me is all i’m saying. i’ve gotten very nervous and i don’t feel super comfortable.

Evan: i trust you. if you think that prestige is more important than walking out of here, that’s up to you. make the call. make it, cause i don’t have all fucking day.

Rosemont student brandishes his wand, and is ready to fight.

this kid gets blasted into the underworld long enough to see his funeral, all of his weeping family members, to see the completely altered lives of the people he cares about as he throws his life away, and then after he has wrinkles around his eyes and his hair has gone stark white, Evan wrenches him back from the underworld.

Evan: for prestige!? people care about you!

#evan kelmp quotes #evan kelmp #misfits and magic

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pyroclastic727 · 4 years

Text

Owl House said fuck capitalism

So this episode was interesting. Lilith pretty much killed her sister. Why the fuck would she do that?

Even more interesting: why is Belos like that? How did Hooty put his head through one of those guards? Who the fuck is the Titan, and why does everyone like him? And how are these all tied together?

This episode was a metaphor for capitalism

...and another delicious step towards radicalizing the youth into dismantling this fucked-up neo-feudal system.

We’ll start with Belos.

Emperor Belos is a weird name, don’t you think? We all thought it was spelled “Bellows,” but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s five letters, starts with Be, ends with os, and describes a megalomaniac emperor that restricts people’s freedom in order to accumulate wealth for himself.

Sound familiar?

Emperor Bezos Belos created capitalism. He saw the beauty of magic and decided to make himself the most powerful.

Belos created a system that destroys the masses and boosts his power.

I’m dipping into fan theory a little, because the fan theory fits. We know that people get branded with coven magic that makes it so they can only specialize in one area. We know that Belos is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. We know that the excess magic, magic created by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

It’s the same system that many viewers see all the time. A job takes up all your day and tires you for the night, so you can only do one skill for the rest of your life. Jeff Bezos is the most powerful man in the United States. Excess money, money taken by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

The magic goes to Belos, like how the money goes to Bezos. Belos created capitalism, and he won it.

The guards aren’t real.

Look, we’ve never seen their faces. They’re all the same. Why would you work so hard to get to the top, just to become a nameless, faceless killing machine?

Oh, also Hooty stuck his face through one. There is nothing under the armor.

Why? Well, it’s the same reason you see all those celebrities going around flaunting their wealth and bragging about how hard they worked. Like all those songs about how they grind every day and work harder than everyone else while you’re out clubbing, and that makes them dope. And then you take a closer look at them and see that they had a small loan of a million dollars fueling them, or an entire talent agency behind them, or their dad was a famous country star in the 80′s.

They’re fake. They’re hollow. They’re a ploy created by the capitalist emperor to try to delude you into working harder.

Let me put this into perspective. I guarantee that every single one of you has heard stuff like this: “Hard work makes you successful.” “I put in the work, and that’s why I’m successful.” “If you work hard enough, then you can be as successful as Mark Zuckerberg.”

And unless you’re a robot or really lucky, I’m sure all of you have failed at this. Maybe they told you that hard work would make you good at math, so you spent 22 hours a week working on calculus, only to pass it by 3 percentage points and have it destroy your perfect 4.0 GPA. Maybe they told you that if you talked to people enough, then you would make friends, so you spent a lot of time talking to people, only to end up lonely and friendless. Maybe they told you that if you did well in school, you would get a good job, so you spent all your time working hard to be a good student, and then ended up in a soulless, dead-end job.

The guards are there to delude you. Look, who really gains from you being productive? The answer is the ruling class, the CEOs, the government, the bourgeoisie. It has always been that. All you get from working is a paycheck that lets you survive. They get a paycheck that lets them get rich. Just like Belos gets the magic and productivity of the specialized coven witches.

The guards are there to trick you. The truth is that nobody can join the Emperor’s Coven. It’s just there to make you think that hard work will make you successful. Then you spend your entire life working hard, trying to prove to the person in charge that you’re worthwhile. You give your whole life to the Coven, and they give you nothing.

Magic is supposed to be something you pursue for fun. Being skilled at things, being good at something beautiful...that’s supposed to be something you do because you want to. But they took that and made it into a source of productivity. It doesn’t matter if you make good content. All people fucking care about is if you upload the day of premiere, if you make a lot of content quickly, if you maintain a million different conversations with strangers who expect you to be the most interesting person in the room. They don’t care how it hurts you. They don’t care how you crack from the stress. How you cry when you think no one can see you, and then you check your phone and someone can see you, someone did see you, and you have to put on your face and be the charming, magnetic person they want you to be. (oh by the way that’s why I wasn’t online much last week)

And it ruins it. Suddenly you can’t watch The Owl House without being stressed. You can’t make any content. You can’t make spells as powerfully as you want to. Your passion is replaced by perfectionism and insecurity, a voice telling you to keep being the best at what you do, or else they’ll forget you and let you die.

There’s also the Titan.

So nobody has mentioned him before, because in addition to the Boiling Isles being a hellscape full of witchcraft and queerness, it’s also full of atheists.

But suddenly we have people saying all this shit about him? Shit like, he gave witches the gift of magic, and then they learned to use it in a civilized manner, since being uncivilized was disrespectful?

I mean, first off, that’s fucking wrong. The island gives people magic. The island, which just so happened to be shaped like a titan-sized human. But the island/titan gives everyone all types of magic. Hell, even Luz gets to use magic, and she’s human.

It sounds really fucking familiar. (tw for discussion of homophobia and colonialism and misogyny). It sounds like when the news is on and they show some Tr*mp supporter talking about how fetuses have more rights than people and it is their holy duty to take away a woman’s control over her body and force her through unbearable pain and into an 18-year commitment she didn’t want to make. It sounds like all the times people tried to say homosexuality should be illegal, citing a single line in a book written two thousand years ago and heavily edited by a European king. It sounds like all the times people said God wanted them to conquer, to own the entire earth, to force the other races into pain to support them.

This is that bullshit thing people do where they commit awful sins and justify it by citing the will of God.

Or, it’s the Coven using religion as an excuse for evil.

Look, the Emperor’s Coven is clearly colonizer-coded. Saying that people’s original form of magic was wild (and showing a picture with the same joyous, rowdy energy of an 18th or 19th -century Black or indigenous party), and that it was God’s will for them to be “civilized?” Sounds like that thing that powerful white people did where they went and murdered people and forced them into their twisted capitalist system. God, gold, and glory, is what they said, because history books just love to omit the gore.

Lilith is passing the abuse cycle along.

You know, like a good little colonizer. God I fucking hate her. She’s a MILF, in the sense that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Fling off a cliff.

Ah, enough screaming about how much I want to drown Lilith in a tub of Hooty’s mucus. Let’s go into why I want to do that, and how she took the evils of capitalism and just...adopted those.

So, Lilith is sick and twisted for what she did to her sister. But, uhh, that’s the point. You see, there are so many other people out there like Lilith who would do the exact same thing, if given the chance. These are the people who do mean things when the teacher isn’t looking, and then act nice and try to frame you. These are the people who will hate you if you’re better than them. These are people who would do anything to bring you down, if you dare outperform them.

It’s greed, my friends. The mental illness that capitalism blesses us all with.

Lilith herself said it: she dedicated her entire life to the Coven. What she wanted was to be the best. And she almost was...except for her own sister. Someone who lived with her, annoyed her at home, bested her at school. Someone she could never beat, no matter how hard she worked. And her sister was younger than her, too! How insulting was that? Lilith wanted to be the best, and someone in her exact situation did better than her.

Lilith was insecure. And it consumed her.

But why? Why does insecurity consume her? I mean, no one can be motivated by insecurity forever. Well, not unless someone conditions it into you.

The lovely thing about the capitalist system is the morals it teaches you. Things like: “You’re only useful if you’re the best.” “Being school smart makes you smart, while being social smart or sports smart or creative smart or fandom smart is worthless.” “Your worth can be quantified by numbers and is based off arbitrary measures like your income or your grades.” Things that can and will drive us crazy if we let ourselves believe them.

And it did drive Lilith crazy. She got so twisted by a society that said being good at magic is her only worth. Look, Lilith used to be good at things, probably. She was good at sports. At times, she slips up and does an okay job of being Eda’s sister. She has a powerful presence when she’s in a room. And she’s wicked good at manipulating people.

But that didn’t matter. Lilith bought into the lies. She let herself believe that magical skill was the only way to measure her worth. And since she needed to be the best, she hurt Eda for it.

The beautiful thing is, Eda didn’t buy that. "It’s my power, kid. And before you showed up, I spent my whole life wasting it.” Is what Eda said, as she used up the last of her power, the last of her life, to save Luz. In her final moments, she proved that she’s not like them. She’s stronger than them.

None of this matters. Not magical prowess. Not the hierarchy. Not the promise of joining the Coven and having more power than anyone else.

The only thing that matters to Eda is her family. Her real family. Her Luz, King, and Hooty. And by extension, Willow, Gus, and Amity. Those are Eda’s real reason for fighting, for dying: to protect them. Look, there’s no way she would’ve come out of that fight alive. She has a family, and her love for them is stronger than greed or jealousy or capitalism.

Lilith never understood that. She thought the water of the womb was thicker than the blood of the covenant. Or, that the water of the womb and the blood of the covenant are stronger than the bonds of found family. She thought it didn’t matter if Eda loved, her, only if the Emperor loved her. Fucking bitch.

And now, a little something to worry about, before we go. Amity Blight. The girl who wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven more than anything, who dedicated her whole life to doing well in school, to being the best, to being perfect.

And then she met Luz. She fell for Luz. Now she’s in a tricky place, where habit and conditioning want her to join the Emperor’s Coven, but her heart wants her to do the impossible and destroy capitalism.

She wasn’t in this episode. Funny that being injured and unable to work ended up saving her from watching her future mother-in-law die. So she bought some time.

But Luz’s true mom is dead. This is the second mom she has lost, and she’s only fourteen. As powerful as King and Hooty are, Luz needs Amity. Luz needs Amity to support her and help her get back her mom.

So Amity has to make a choice. Fear and insecurity, or love and a high chance of death?

She’ll probably choose death. Because that’s the message that this family-friendly show is giving us kids. Fuck capitalism. All you need in life is to do what makes you happy and be with the ones you love.

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myopinionhi · 4 years

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A Will Solace Character Analysis: the Underappreciated Soft Side

I've noticed many fanfictions have Will Solace OOC. So I’ve been thinking about aspects of Will’s personality fans seem to either gloss over or exaggerate. Here, this post is me doing an in-depth analysis explaining Will Solace’s canon personality in the books, and how it can sometimes differ from fanfictions. Sprinkled in this analysis are tips to fanfiction writers on how they write Will as more in-character.

There is one major aspect of Will that people seem to ignore or underemphasize. Nico best explains it when describing Will in this quote

Jason was a fighter. You could tell from the intensity of his stare, his constant alertness, the coiled-up energy in his frame. Will Solace was more like a lanky cat stretched out in sunshine. His movements were relaxed and nonthreatening, his gaze soft and far away. In his faded SURF BARBADOS T-shirt, his cutoff shorts and flip-flops, he looked about as aggressive as a demigod could get, but Nico knew he was brave under fire. During the Battle of Manhattan, Nico had seen him in action - the camp's best combat medic, risking his life to save wounded campers.

To sum it up, Will Solace is a very chill and calm character. A lot of writers make Will more irrational, impulsive, overbearing, and emotional than he actually is. Will is not the type of character to create drama unless he's, as Nico puts it, "under fire." In other words, the intense side of his personality doesn't come out unless the situation is urgent or dire.

Fans remember during the Second Giant War how he gets angry and argues with Nico over Nico's health and shadow-traveling, so many assume Will is going to be this fiery over a lot of other things regarding their relationship. For example, fanfic writers may make Will controlling or overly sensitive with Nico. However, keep in mind, Will gets heated with Nico during the Second Giant War because Nico's shadow-traveling is killing him. This is how Will describes Nico's dire state.

"Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again."

"I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine."

"No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it. Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders."

Will is a healer. When he touches Nico's hand, he can sense how little sleep and food Nico has been getting and how Nico's being taken over by darkness. Nico is on the verge of death and hasn't cared about his health for a long time. Nico is also stubborn about it, so Will has to be aggressive in order to save Nico's life. This aggressive behavior is not the norm for Will, but it can sometimes come out when he has to assert control in a life-or-death situation.

Will is a calming prescence. He's a diplomat. He stops violence on multiple occassions.

He's one of the few people who's able to calm Clarisse's violent rage, and he does so in a gentle manner.

Clarisse pointed her dagger at Rachel. "What about their allies, huh? Did you see that tribe of two-headed men that arrived yesterday? Or the glowing red dog-headed guys with the big poleaxes? They look pretty barbaric to me. It would’ve been nice if you’d foreseen any of that, if your Oracle power didn’t break down when we needed it most!"

Rachel’s face turned as red as her hair. "That’s hardly my fault. Something is wrong with Apollo’s gifts of prophecy. If I knew how to fix it –"

"She’s right." Will Solace, head counsellor for the Apollo cabin, put his hand gently on Clarisse’s wrist. Not many campers could’ve done that without getting stabbed, but Will had a way of defusing people’s anger. He got her to lower her dagger. "Everyone in our cabin has been affected. It’s not just Rachel."

One of the most underrated Will Solace moments is when he stops a bloody battle from happening between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter.

But he knew it wouldn’t do any good. After weeks of waiting, agonizing and steaming, the Greeks and Romans wanted blood. Trying to stop the battle now would be like trying to push back a flood after the dam broke.

Will Solace saved the day.

He put his fingers in his mouth and did a taxicab whistle even more horrible than the last. Several Greeks dropped their swords. A ripple went through the Roman line like the entire First Cohort was shuddering.

"DON’T BE STUPID!" Will yelled. "LOOK!"

People are so used to seeing demigods, especially male demigods, being aggressive fighters that they can't wrap their heads around a brave and strong demigod who actively tries to avoid unnecessary conflict and destruction as much as he can.

And that's Will Solace's strength: he has the ability to prevent as much harm as possible.

Will is a difficult character to write. There's a lot of dueling factors with his personality. He's calm and pacifying while also being brave and assertive. He's fun and lighthearted while also being intelligent, logical, and grounded. He's laidback while also being responsible and hardworking. He's insecure but not melodramatic. He's very caring and protective but not pushy.

Will's personality confuses Nico sometimes too.

He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently he could also be stubborn and aggravating.

The trick to writing Will is to keep in mind his default personality is a soft and lighthearted character. Writers tend to overemphasize the hard side of his personality when his default personality is actually the soft side.

Think of the relaxing, lanky cat metaphor Nico uses for him. He and Nico bicker often, and it works for Will because he rolls with everything and doesn't take things too seriously. He's able to alleviate Nico's moodiness with humor, wittiness, groundedness, and patience. Nico affectionately calls Will a "dork" because Will usually keeps things light. Interestingly enough, he's able to be lighthearted without coming across as insensitive or an airheaded goofball, the latter of which is something Nico dislikes about Percy's personality. On a related sidenote, another way writers make Will OOC is they make him too dumb or too immature. I know I mentioned to focus on Will's soft side, but be careful to avoid that too. He's a SENSIBLE, lanky cat.

The way Will keeps his composure during a stressful situation by using laughter while still being mature is expressed well in this exchange with Apollo. (Yes, Will has a lot to manage.)

It was difficult to think of this young man as my son. He was so poised, so unassuming, so free of acne. He also didn’t appear to be awestruck in my presence. In fact, the corner of his mouth had started twitching.

“Are—are you amused?” I demanded.

Will shrugged. “Well, it’s either find this funny or freak out. My dad, the god Apollo, is a fifteen-year-old—”

“Sixteen,” I corrected. “Let’s go with sixteen.”

“A sixteen-year-old mortal, lying in a cot in my cabin, and with all my healing arts—which I got from you—I still can’t figure out how to fix you.”

“There is no fixing this,” I said miserably. “I am cast out of Olympus. My fate is tied to a girl named Meg. It could not be worse!”

Will laughed, which I thought took a great deal of gall. “Meg seems cool. She’s already poked Connor Stoll in the eyes and kicked Sherman Yang in the crotch.”

The fiercer side of Will's personality comes out only when the situation calls for it; this happens sometimes when he has to be a caring family member, a responsible healer, or a warrior in a dire situation. Even when he gets more forceful, he doesn't get more forceful than he has to.

Since Will has such a balanced and lighthearted personality, what are his flaws? What are the dark sides of his personality? There are four main things that stick out.

1. He's insecure about his self-perceived lack of abilities.

"I agree," Will said. "I wish I was a better archer … I wouldn’t mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father’s gifts to stop this war." He looked down at his own hands with distaste. "Unfortunately, I’m just a healer."

2. He sometimes struggles to endure the heavy responsibilities he has as a healer and as a protector to his family.

“I got it reattached,” Will told me, his voice shaky with exhaustion. His scrubs were speckled with blood. “I need somebody to keep him stable.”

I pointed to the woods. “But—”

“I know!” Will snapped. “Don’t you think I want to be out there searching too? We’re shorthanded for healers. There’s some salve and nectar in that pack. Go!”

I was stunned by his tone. I realized he was just as concerned about Kayla and Austin as I was. The only difference: Will knew his duty. He had to heal the injured first. And he needed my help.

3. He forces himself to bottle his emotions to keep his composure.

Will laughed under his breath. “I’m terrified. But one thing you learn as head counselor: you have to keep it together for everyone else. Let’s get you on your feet."

Here's a second example.

I rested my hand on Will’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back by dawn.”

His mouth trembled ever so slightly. “How can you be sure?”

4. He constantly worries about his loved ones.

Nico rested his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Apollo, we were worried. Will was especially.”

In conclusion, Will Solace's personality is difficult to get correct. But don't worry, if you write Will as a laidback, witty cat in your fanfics, I guarantee he'll be more in-character than many other fanfics with Will Solace.

(Note: I am only human. If you believe I'm misinterpreting some aspects of Will's personality, feel free to express it. What I say isn't 100 percent the right interpretation.)

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #spoilers #meta #character analysis #fanfic #fanfiction #blood of olympus #hidden oracle #long post #toa #hoo #apollo

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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did you watch lucifer season six and what are your thoughts pls and ty

Ahaha. Yes. Yes I did watch it. Then I cried for a literal hour and attempted to compose myself, only to start crying again when I lay down and kept on thinking about it. Then I had more feelings. Then I slept like the dead due to emotional trauma. Then I reblogged gifsets and had More feelings. Then @buffaluff and @flynnanimal watched it and also required emotional support due to drowning in their own tears. So, uh... we're all fine here now. How are you?

My main takeaway from the final season was the sheer amount of love for the characters, story, and fans that you could feel shining through all the episodes, and which made SUCH a refreshing change. I had feelings in my tags the other day about how a show about the devil was constantly goofy, hopeful, loving, and uplifting, rather than all the grimdark nonsense they could have easily done with it. (As I said, just imagine it as written by the GOT idiots?? NO THANK YOU.) The writing really loved everyone and wanted to give them a proper ending and emotional journey, and it wanted to show the fans that they weren't stupid for having invested six seasons of effort and emotion into this, and just... that is so much rarer than it should be? Compare all the movies and TV shows that treat their fans like the enemy, that want to outsmart them at all costs even if it means changing major plot elements, that ferociously guard spoilers and think that "shock value" means good writing, by throwing hackneyed cliche upon cliche and making everything Depressing, and just... Lucifer had its hiccups and slow points and missteps, of course, but I am SO glad they didn't do that. The entire show consisted of Lucifer slowly but steadily progressing toward being a better man, despite mistakes and setbacks and sometimes a little too much will-they-won't-they. (Season 3 was the only one where I got bored and skipped over the filler episodes with Pierce/Lucifer/Chloe in order to get to the end).

That is an essentially simple premise, but they stuck to it, and they didn't try to create more drama by randomly wrecking what they had already established. I wrote a fic all the way back in mid-season 2 (In Nomine Patris) that ended up predicting quite a few of the future characters who had not yet appeared on the show at that time, including Eve, Michael, and Azrael, and several plot points, including the very major one of Lucifer returning to hell for the sake of his daughter with Chloe. And while this might mean that I am just that good at guessing TV shows (I would like to think this....) it also means that the writers set expectations, followed through on those expectations, and didn't suddenly derail everything or turn it totally on its head just for the sake of cheap shocks. As we can all attest, they certainly caused PLENTY of drama, anguish, pain, and suffering, but they did it in a way that remained faithful to the overall premises of the story and the characters, and wanted to see them become the best versions of themselves. I cried my eyes out at the end and then thought, "hey, I might want to watch the whole series again," which, if you ask me, is the mark of doing your job right. There have been so few TV endings recently where I didn't immediately swear off the whole thing or have to pretend that canon didn't exist, so yeah.

As I said, it was just refreshing to watch something that had that essential deep generosity at its core, where the message is that everyone is worthy of love if they make the hard and painful effort to change and become better, and that even if earthly things feel small next to all this messy celestial drama, they still matter, and that you are loved no matter what. I loved that Amenadiel became God and Lucifer returned to hell as a choice in order to help all the trapped souls be able to work through their guilt and go to heaven. There were obviously certain echoes of The Good Place in that ending; I don't know if it was something they had planned all along or if the success of TGP, another series asking deep questions about life, death, morality, and human nature within the framework of a goofy heaven-and-hell sitcom, influenced it, but either way, it worked so well. Even if it tore my heart out and stomped on it on the ground, it was fitting and oh so lovely to see Lucifer, once the most selfish being in the entire universe, following in Linda's footsteps and becoming selflessly dedicated to helping other people. Just. Chef's kiss.

And of course, Deckerstar. The Hades and Persephone vibes were IMMACULATE this season, and while it did take Lucifer and Chloe the best part of four seasons to get together, they never significantly backslid, never had third-party issues or cheap cheating storylines once they were officially a couple, and Tom Ellis and Lauren German REALLY killed it this season in particular. It was never easy for them and sometimes the drama went on a little too long over the course of said six seasons, but the love story was beautiful and incredibly meaningful and always true to the fact that the actors and characters and writers (not to mention the fans) all loved it so much. They were so much the emotional heart of this, and when they went to hell together in episode 6x03 (where they turned into cartoons because wHAT even IS this show), Joe Henderson said in an interview that this was to give the fans a view into Lucifer and Chloe's future (after) lives post-6x10, and to offer them a basis to write fanfiction. I mean... the showrunner saying to the fans "here, we love you, have something to write fic about!" is likewise pretty shockingly rare. It's again an example of how this show always audaciously poked fun at itself, never took itself TOO seriously, and was always welcoming its fans and the people who loved it to do so, rather than making them feel stupid or taking joy in wrecking beloved characters or plots.

Obviously, I loved Rory, the badass lesbian half-angel goth Deckerstar child straight out of My Immortal (seriously, she was SO edgy, it was amazing), because of the fact that Lucifer's entire arc was always about feeling abandoned by his father and that he was going to have to face it for himself. Dorky Devil Dad Lucifer trying his absolute HARDEST to bond with his daughter was simultaneously hilarious, adorable, and heart-wrenching, and yet again, the Growth. We all remember when he could barely tolerate Trixie touching him, and now we're here. Also, any variation whatsoever of "this is just a brief moment of time that we must be apart, love is eternal and stronger than death and we will never really leave each other" as a line is guaranteed to make me bawl my eyes out. So that was fun.

I got a big kick out of Ghost Dan running around and trying to get everyone to see him, and had feelings about seeing him in heaven with Charlotte and his beloved Pudding Pops at the end. I had feelings about how they handled Ella finding out the truth (or rather demanding to know why nobody had told her) and of course, I obviously loved Maze and Eve and their goth/femme wedding and the fact that they got a good three-season romantic arc (indeed, I wanted more of them). My god, Trixie is SO BIG, she used to be a tiny little nugget. I love that Linda was the moral and emotional rock all along, from the first episode to the very last, and that Amenadiel was Deeply Vindicated when Charlie's wings appeared at his first birthday party. I love how Lucifer in s6 is absolute thousands of light years from Lucifer in s1. And as ever, Chloe was Perfect. I am happy that I spent six seasons with these characters and saw them become better, and that I was never made to feel like an idiot for trusting the writers to end everything in a beautiful and emotional way. Because, well. They did. Sure, maybe I could go back and pick at a plotline here or a detail there, but I don't terribly feel the need to do so? It might not have been perfect, but it was perfect, and I am so grateful that it existed.

#lucifer #lucifer spoilers #deckerstar #anonymous #ask

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andvys · 3 years

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Longing (part 13)

Warnings: angst, some fluff

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Author’s note: this chapter is kinda short but I still wanted to give you guys something so here you go 💕 next chapter might take a while tho, I’m not sure yet.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Ellie answered, running her hand up and down your arm. You were still laying on the couch, naked under the thin blanket. You were fully on top of her, your head on her chest.

“Is that ‘chemical burn’ a bite?” You asked looking up at her.

“Yeah, you put the pieces together huh?” She asked, looking down on you. Nodding your head, “kinda always thought this story was bullshit but I didn’t think that it could be a bite from an infected.” Tracing her tattoo.

“Do you wanna know the story?” She asked, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Ellie.” You said, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I want to.” She said, rubbing your back softly.

“Alright.”

She began telling you about Riley, she first told you the story of their friendship and how she always had a crush on her. It was cute hearing her talk about her teenage years. Comparing them to yours, they seemed normal, your teenage years were brutal, you were forced to do things, horrible things. She told you about her and Joel, how they met and bonded over time and then she told you about what happened at the hospital, what Joel did to get her out of there and how he lied to her about it, you never knew what happened between them but now you understood.

You got why she was angry at him for keeping something like that from her but you didn’t agree with her opinion on this. You knew the fireflies, you knew what they did and you sure as hell didn’t support what they were willing to do to get a vaccine. Killing an innocent girl for a vaccine that didn’t even have a guarantee that it could work, seemed wrong to you.

Ellie looked down at, she wanted to know what was going through your head. You didn’t say anything yet and you seemed to be deep in thought, processing all the information you just got.

Looking up at her, you leaned in pecking her lips softly. “Can I be honest with you?” You asked, stroking her cheek.

“Of course.”

“You won’t agree with me on this but what Joel did.. it was right.” Furrowing her brows at you she went to say something but you didn’t let her. “There was no guarantee that it would’ve worked. My dad was a firefly.. h-he told me some of the horrible things they’ve done to people. How they experimented on them and even turned them into those things just to see if they’re new ‘cure’ would work. Ever since the outbreak, they’ve been promising people a cure and yet they always come out empty handed. You being immune, has got nothing to do with a cure, your blood might be more advanced or something, maybe there are more like you around the world and maybe in the future most people will be immune.” She seemed to process your words, not knowing what to say, she looked up at the ceiling.

“And Joel, he loved you ellie. He would’ve done anything for you. He decided that it wasn’t worth to live in a ‘better world’ knowing that you weren’t a part of it. He was okay with living in this horrible world as long as you’re alive and well I would’ve done the same thing if I was him.” She looked at you, eyes glistening with tears.

“Ellie I’d rather spent my life living in a world where there’s a possibility that I could die out there every time I go out than living in a peaceful world knowing that you don’t even get to be a part of it.” You said, wiping her tears away, you kissed her cheek. She couldn’t believe that you’d rather live in this hell with her than even thinking about the possibility of living a safe and healthy life, without her.

“I let him down.” She whispered, letting more tears fall. “And I never got the chance to forgive him.”

She was feeling guilt. You knew this ugly feeling all to well and you wouldn’t let it destroy her. She was suffering for having treated Joel bad all these years but beating herself up for it wouldn’t bring him back.

“He knows Ellie.” You whispered, hugging her. You felt her pain, you knew exactly what she was going through.

“Joel loved you like his own daughter, no matter what. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like that okay?” Grabbing her face in your hands. “Don’t do this to yourself Ellie, it’s easy to lose yourself in this darkness so fight it, no matter what.” Wiping her tears away, you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “I’m here with you.”

“Thank you babe.” Hugging you close to her, she kissed her forehead. You knew what she was going through right now, you knew because you felt like that too. Ellie couldn’t forgive herself for the way she treated Joel and you couldn’t forgive yourself for saving Abby.

You always tried to do the right thing, helping wherever you could, helping whoever you could and yet you felt like you were a bad person. You saved Joel’s killer. You saved a boy you shouldn’t have saved when you were 14 years old. You always tried saving everyone and in the process of doing so, you started losing yourself.

You realized most people you saved ended up being bad and you’d have to kill them in the end. Abby would be no exception. You were going to kill her, you promised yourself that. For Joel.

You still had nightmares of Joel blaming you for his death before killing you. You knew it wasn’t real, you knew it was your mind making it up because of the guilt you were feeling. This wasn’t Joel, he would never blame you for anything, let alone kill you but it still made you feel bad. It was exhausting and you were tired all the damn time. Your mind either plagued your with nightmares or with Joel’s death, you weren’t sure how long you could keep going like that but you had to stay strong for Ellie, you acted like you were fine, you didn’t show her how weak you actually felt. You had to pull through at least until Abby was dead, you owed this to her, you owed this to Joel.

Waking up it was still dark out. Both you and Ellie fell asleep after your conversation. Looking down at her, she was fast asleep, breathing softly, her arm was around you, keeping you close to her in her sleep, you’d love to stay like that with her for a while longer but you still had to check out the rest of the theater, so you got up carefully making sure you wouldn’t wake her up. Putting your clothes on, you looked at Ellie one more time before going further inside the theater, to see what you would find.

You went up the stairs, and grabbed whatever you could find that would be useful later. You thought about last night. You weren’t sure if what you and Ellie did was right, you wanted her but you had to admit to yourself that it was an act of frustration. You were on the road for weeks, facing bad people, infected and what not, life wouldn’t let you catch a break and the minute you had time to relax you and Ellie used it to forget about everything else for a while, it helped but it wasn’t the right time. You didn’t regret it, not at all. You enjoyed every second of it and would do it again but maybe at a more appropriate time. You just hoped Ellie wouldn’t regret it.

You found an old radio and decided to try and fix it after you got the generator started. It took you a while but you finally managed to fix it. Listening in on them you found some stuff out that would definitely be useful to you. Sitting on the floor you looked at the map and then at the Polaroids, grabbing the one with Abby and the guy named Owen, you looked at it. Deep in thought you didn’t hear Ellie come inside until she said your name softly. Turning too look at her, you smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey babe”. Sitting down next to you. “You good?” She asked, searching for the look of regret on your face. She woke up with you gone and she feared that you changed your mind about her and felt bad for what you two did.

“I am, you?” You asked, glancing at her quickly before looking down again. Feeling a little shy under her gaze.

“Me too.” She said, nervously rubbing her neck she looked at you, blushing at the marks around your neck, it was covered with hickeys and bruises. “Listen (y/n) you don’t- you don’t regret it do you?” Her question making you snap your head to the side, to look at her.

“No! No, god no Ellie.” You said, staring into her eyes now, intertwining your fingers with hers. Hating the fact that you made her feel like you regretted having sex with her.

Breathing out, she felt relieved at your words. For a second she thought you’d go back to the way you used to be a few weeks ago. Moving closer she kissed your temple before looking down at the map.

“I see you fixed the radio.. did you hear something?” She asked, taking polaroid of Abby and Owen in her hand looking at it.

You started explaining to her what you found out and where you’d have to go today, showing her on the map while talking about the WLF’s.

“We have to find Jesse.” You said, looking at the map in worry. You had no idea where he went and you didn’t know where to start looking for him.

“Do you think we should go back to the serevena hotel?” Ellie asked, noticing the concerned look on your face.

“I.. I don’t know. He wouldn’t be there anymore I think.” You said, sighing. “I don’t know what to do, I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m worried too but I’m sure he’s fine. Tommy’s out there as well, who knows maybe they ran into each other already.” Ellie said, shrugging.

“I hope so.” You whispered, grabbing the map off the floor you stuffed it in your backpack. “Should we get going?” You asked, standing up.

Ellie looked up at you, frowning slightly, she was worried about what you were going to be facing today, she didn’t want you to be in danger but she knew you sure as hell wouldn’t sit back and wait for her here.

“Yeah.” She said, getting up.

Nodding your head you turned around to go out the door but a hand pulled you back. Facing Ellie again, she pulled you closer hands on your cheeks she leaned in pressing her lips against yours softly. Sighing into the kiss you closed your eyes, kissing her back with your arms around her neck. Enjoying this moment before you’d go out into this shitty world.

Pulling away from each other, you opened your eyes, gazing into her eyes you pecked her lips once more. “Alright let’s go.” You whispered, grabbing her hand. “Yeah”. Squeezing your hand she followed you out.

You didn’t know what was going to happen today. You didn’t know what kinds of threats you’d be facing but you knew that you’d keep Ellie safe and she would keep you safe.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams #tlou imagines #tlou ellie

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six-improbable-things · 2 years

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Morrigan Watches - Doctor Who - Season 1 Recap

So, I know I said I was gonna do one after every episode but that fell apart pretty fast, so here I am after season one, and I have so many emotions. I’ll try and get to them all under the cut, but first things first: I LOVE NINE. I’ve said before that he’s not my favorite, but I think he’s top three for me. He’s so... I don’t think naive is the right word, but he’s still fresh off the time war, and while he *seems* grumpy, he’s a bundle of sunshine, and he’s in love.

He’s so in love that he’s willing to break the rules of time and space for Rose. He takes her to see her dad, and lets her try again, he lets Jack hang around because of her, he takes Adam along, even though it’s DEFINITELY a bad idea, and he does everything in his power to make her happy. He’s showing off, taking her to the most impressive and interesting places, and it’s so cute, to be honest. If someone had a crush on me and took me to see all of time and space, I would fall in love with them too.

Also, can we just talk about “The Doctor Dances”??? That duology (does that work for TV shows??) (The Empty Child + The Doctor Dances) has always been one of my favorites, mainly because of nostalgia. (The first time I ever heard of Doctor Who was because a friend in elementary wanted to be the Empty Child for Halloween.) But dear God, I love it.

For one, we get an introduction to Jack, and Team TARDIS starts up. And how goddamn happy the doctor is that no one has to die. “Everybody lives, Rose. Just this once, everybody lives.” And it breaks my heart, cause it’s true. Every single other episode in the show, at least one person dies. And the scene at the end where Jack is talking to Computer, and then the TARDIS just shows up in his ship and they’re dancing, it’s just so pure and happy. It’s pure fluff, and while I love the action (don’t get me wrong, the time travel and kick-ass sci-fi are the reason to watch this show), I also adore the little moments of fluff. And this was the best fluff ever. I live for that scene.

And speaking of Team TARDIS, that scene in “Boom Town” where they’re having lunch, and Mickey is getting along with the Doctor and Jack, (”I told you we should’ve turned left!” “That was my line!”) and the Doctor is enjoying himself too, just laughing with the rest of them. How fucking SAD he looks when he says “and I was having such a nice day.” It’s funny, but it really, really isn’t because for once he was. Also, “She’s an egg!!” makes me cackle, and I love it. She didn’t have to die, and she didn’t have to go to prison. She got a chance to start over, which is exactly what the Doctor wanted for her. (Which makes sense, given that the heart of the TARDIS is telepathic. Thank you, my lady.)

And then we get to “Bad Wolf / The Parting of the Ways”. UGH. First things first, the fact that after all those years, hundreds of thousands of years, humanity still loves trashy TV is one of my favorite things. The decades and centuries pass, and yet there will always be gameshows, and dramatic reality TV. Never change, Humanity. The scene where Jack and the Doctor think Rose is dead, it fucking shatters me. You hear Jack screaming in the background, because for all he’s a flirty, jokey guy, he has a heart. He wouldn’t do everything he does if he didn’t have a heart. (Torchwood, the Face of Boe, etc. I guarantee you he wanted to do good via the Time Agency, but then they stole his memories....) And the Doctor just doesn’t do anything. He lets them put a gun to his head, and Jack knows the game is up. If the Doctor is done fighting, there’s no fighting to be done. On to “The Parting of the Ways”: The Doctor has a special place in his heart reserved for the Daleks. And not in a good way. He hates them, and they hate him, and I know that Cybermen are a “big thing”, but I will die on the hill that the Daleks are his one true nemesis. He (at this point) killed the timelords to get rid of them, and yet they survived. All his sacrifice for nothing. The way they’re so desperately trying to save Station 5, even though it’s done nothing but evil to the human race (of course they’re also trying to save humanity, but yk). And Rose still believes that the Doctor will win, because he always wins, and she doesn’t believe that Jack will die, or that she will, not until she’s in the TARDIS and she sees the hologram. She believes in him so much, and it hurts. The way the Doctor just slumps in defeat when he sees the Delta wave calculations, because he knows that he can save Rose, but it means he’ll never seen her again. And he does it, of course he does it, because a world with Rose alive and him dead is better than a world with both of them dead or him alive and her dead. The fact that Mickey helps Rose try and go back, even though he knows she’ll probably die, because there’s no stopping her, and because he respects her decision, and ultimately, because what Rose said in the diner was right. The Doctor showed them both a better way of living, and for that reason, Mickey winds up fighting aliens with Martha Jones down the line. Rose being BadWolf and sending the message for herself always kills me, because I loved fucked up cyclical paradox shit like that. (It’s a paradox kind of because she had to have sent the message in order to send the message. So it’s a chicken-or-the-egg type thing.) The Doctor is torn between heartbreak and fear when he sees Rose as BadWolf. Cause he knows there’s no way this can end well. He’s sad that she’s done this, that it might kill her, and he’s also terrified of her. She can play God, and while the Doctor might play God sometimes too, he isn’t a god. He’s a man, and there’s Rose bringing a person back to life (yay, jack!!!) and breaking things down to dust with a look.

Speaking of the Doctor playing God, when the Daleks ask him if he’s a killer or a coward, and he says “coward, any day.” He tries so hard to push that button. There’s a large portion of him that wants to kill the Daleks, no matter the cost. So that the Time Lords didn’t die in vain. But he can’t do it. He physically can’t do it, and that’s why he’s the Doctor. (See Moffat quote about him having two hearts, a phone box, and a screwdriver.)

Also, the fact that he kisses Rose and that 1) she doesn’t remember it, and 2) he did it to save her life.... thoughts are being thunk. And I never thought I would say this, but Ten just felt... wrong. Like, in that moment, there with Rose, in Nine’s clothes, Ten didn’t belong.

I think that Nine will always be Rose’s Doctor. Yes, she spends time with Ten, and she grows to care about Ten as well, but there’s something special about Nine and Rose. To me, at least. And maybe my mind will change when I get through Season 2, but I still associate Ten more with Martha and Donna (especially Donna) than I do with Rose.

#morrigan watches #morrigan watches: doctor who #the ninth doctor #doctor who #doctor who season 1 #all of the doctors have one companion that I associate them with very strongly #9 - Rose #10 - Donna #11 - Amy #12 - Clara #obviously it's just whoever travels with them teh longest but still #also I think Clara is my all-time favorite companion #there's something about her dynamic with 12 that I adore #they're so cute together (platonically)#I still have to watch The Christmas Invasion before I get to Season 2 proper #but I'm having fun

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mellow-em · 3 years

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Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 2

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasn’t even remotely focused on it.

My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.

“Are you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?” The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.

I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.

They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If they’d asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldn’t mind.

But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.

Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.

The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.

“y/n? Are you alright?”

I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, “I’m um.. I’m fine, sorry.”

I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didn’t seem too convinced.

I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.

Until the man’s wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.

I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.

“Jesus y/n, what’s gotten into you?”

I’m asking that same question, mom.

“Nothing, I uh- think I’m just tired,” the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, “I’m just.. I’m gonna go shower for the party later.”

I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Well that was smooth, dumbass,” I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me.

That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I haven’t even had a single conversation with him.

I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.

This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..

I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.

Act like it didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen.

____________

Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls weren’t thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.

Of course, my dad’s annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldn’t be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.

As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when I’ll probably end up being one of those people.

I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.

While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to get much yet again.

With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.

The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.

It was a blessing that the noise didn’t affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.

With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.

Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, I’m bombarded by my mother.

“Hey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!” her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.

Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.

Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.

After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.

I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.

As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadn’t seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.

The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.

They had all gotten so close to one another, that they’d have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.

While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.

Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.

I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathan’s reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.

I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.

As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.

There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the others’ heads. Though, I still couldn’t get a proper look at his face yet.

I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.

I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.

Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.

From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nate’s banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.

The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

By this point I would’ve been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape.

“Oh my god y/n?” My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.

Well great.

I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.

“Elena, it’s so good to see you,” I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, “especially when I’ve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.”

I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.

“What are you two laughing about? What’d I do this time?” Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.

“Oh nothing, Nate,” Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.

Even with Elena and I’s pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.

Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Crash.”

Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift.

“It’s been too long, Aku.”

We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.

I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown.

“So who’s this?” I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.

But silence continued to radiate around us.

They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat.

That is, before Nate finally spoke up, “Y/n, this is Sam,” he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, “Sam Drake.”

I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets.

“Is this your-” I pointed between the both of them.

“He’s my older brother.” Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck.

My face fell even more if it was even possible.

Wait.

Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make Sam…

I looked at Sam’s face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were.

Great. Not only was I checking out Nathan’s BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.

Fuck.

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted #naughty dog

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selfignitingimagines · 3 years

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Stiles- If I Can’t Have You, No One Can (Obsessed Part 4)

A/N: When I was initally writing this series I had a set plan for where I wanted it to end and how. I was recently rewatching the last few episodes of season 2 and I got struck with some inspiration. Let me know down below if you guys want a part 5 so I can continue the series!

TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking, kidnapping

Here are the links for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“Right there!” Stiles cried, frantically gesturing toward the computer screen on his dad’s desk. “Stop! Stop! See? There he is again.”

They were scrolling through hours of security footage recorded at the hospital the night one of Matt’s victims was killed. So far, all they had managed to capture were shots of him with his back turned. This tape was no different.

“You mean there’s the back of his head again,” the Sheriff told him.

“Okay, but look. He’s talking to someone!”

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze. His eyes widened. “He’s talking to my mom.”

He hastily pulled out his phone out of his jeans and called his mom, hoping she would be able to confirm that it was Matt. Stiles tapped his foot nervously as they talked. His shoulders slumped in relief when he heard her say that Matt was the one she had seen.

“Alright,” the Sheriff said when she hung up. He picked up a manila evidence folder from his desk.

“We’ve got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site...”

“And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders,” Stiles said. “The trailer, the hospital, and the rave.”

“Actually four,” the Sheriff told him, flipping through the documents in the folder. “A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt a few hours before the murder.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, Dad, if one’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern, what’s four?”

“Four’s enough for a warrant.”

Stiles curled his fist in triumph. “We can find Y/n.”

“Scott, call your mom back. See how quickly she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott’s mom in when she gets here.”

“On it.” Stiles nodded hastily and turned down the hall.

His whole body was humming with adrenaline now. He had spent the whole night terrified, wondering what Matt was doing to you. Stiles knew you were probably betting on the fact that they would find you. After all, it was what he would have done in your situation.

You have saved each other plenty of times before, and now it was his turn again. He knew he could do it, he just wasn’t sure what Matt would do to you in the meantime.

Stiles had tried his best to protect you, but he knew it hadn’t been enough. He should have pushed harder when he suggested you go to the police the other night. He should have kept a closer eye on you at the party, but he had been too caught up in his own issues.

He tried to shake off those thoughts as he walked down the halls of the station, telling himself that he still had time to make up for it. He had told you the other night that everything he did was to keep you safe, and that was still true.

As he rounded the corner of the hall, Stiles realized that the officer on duty was no longer standing at the front desk.

“Hello?” he called, looking around for her.

That was when he noticed her black combat boot sticking out from behind the corner of the desk. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he realized she was lying on the floor among a mess of fallen papers. Her eyes were wide open, but they weren’t moving, and her tan uniform was stained dark red with blood.

She was dead, but as Stiles took in the horrific sight, he also noticed another chilling detail. The holster on her hip was empty. Someone had taken her gun.

Stiles stumbled back, turning around, only to come face to face with you.“Y/n?”

Tears were slipping from your eyes, and your lip was trembling. You looked terrified, standing there in your disheveled dress. It was the same one you had been wearing at the party last night.

Matt was standing behind you, one hand one your shoulder as he pressed the dead officer’s gun into your back.

“If you make one move I’ll shoot her,” he told Stiles.

Stiles reluctantly held up his hands. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed, but he shook his head. You had to know this wasn’t your fault.

Matt kept the barrel of the gun pressed against your back as Stiles led you further into the station. He turned into his dad’s office, and you realized that the Sheriff and your brother were also there.

“Y/n!” Scott cried.

He started forward, but Matt ordered him to stop, waving the gun so he and the others could see it.

“Matt,” the Sheriff said slowly. He held up his hands.

“It’s Matt, right? Matt, whatever’s going on, I guarantee there’s a solution that doesn’t involve a gun.”

Matt’s lips curled into a sick grin. “You know it’s funny you say that, because I don’t think you’re aware of just how right you are.”

“I know you don’t wanna hurt people-”

“Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You four weren’t on my list, but I could be persuaded...and one way is to try calling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing.”

Scott ripped his hand out of his pocket, looking between you and Stiles apologetically.

“That...that could definitely get someone hurt.”

“Everyone?” Matt gestured with the gun, and you knew he was telling them to give up their phones. “Now!”

“Come on,” the Sheriff told the boys calmly.

Stiles looked back at you.

“Pretty sure he tossed mine out the window last night,” you muttered.

Matt led the four of you to the tiny jail at the back of the station. There, he made Stiles handcuff his dad to a bench. You felt your stomach drop. Now the three of you were completely on your own with Matt.

He waved the three of you in front of him and forced you to walk up to the front of the station. As you passed by another hallway, you gasped.

Three other officers were lying in the hallway and all of them appeared to be dead. Their chests had been ripped open so forcefully that every wall around them was splattered with blood.

You looked away, fighting the urge to vomit.

“What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?” Scott demanded.

“No,” Matt said with a scoff. “That’s what Jackson’s for. I just think about killing them...and he does it.”

He forced you back into Stilinski’s office, where he made Stiles log into his dad’s computer. Matt had him delete every bit of evidence, including the video footage of him at the hospital. Scott was destroying the paper evidence in the shredder, including the shoe prints that would have matched Matt’s boots.

Stiles glared at Matt from behind the desk, wanting to rip him apart as he stroked his fingers down your hair. He had forced you to sit next to him on the couch, and you were currently staring intently at the tiled floor.

Stiles had already seen the bruises Matt had left on your throat. The only thing keeping him from jumping across that desk was the knowledge that Matt would have Jackson rip all of you to pieces at a moment’s notice.

“Deleted,” he told Matt bitterly, gesturing toward the computer. “And we’re done. So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it, because they killed you first-whatever that means-we’re good here, right? I’ll just get my dad and we’ll go. You know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing, enjoy the Kanima.”

Before he could respond, the glow of headlights swept through the windows. You could hear tires crunching on the gravel of the parking lot outside.

“Sounds like your mom’s here,” Matt told you and Scott.

“Matt, don’t do this,” you begged.

“When she comes to the door, we’ll just tell her to leave,” Scott added. “I’ll tell her we didn’t find anything! Please, Matt.”

The sound of the metal door creaking open echoed through the station, and Matt grinned. “If you don’t move now, I’m gonna kill Y/n first, and then your mom.”

He pressed the gun up against your back, and Scott glared at him. Matt pulled you up by the back of your dress and gestured for Scott and Stiles to go first.

“Open it,” he ordered Scott, when you had made your way back to the front lobby.

“Please,” Scott begged one more time.

“Open. The. Door,” Matt told him, enunciating each word carefully.

Scott reached out, shaking his head regretfully. When he turned the knob, the door slowly creaked open to reveal the person standing there. It wasn’t your mom, but Derek Hale.

“Oh thank god,” Scott breathed.

But Derek simply stared at him. Then, he pitched forward and slammed straight onto the floor below. Jackson was standing behind him, half transformed. He held up one scaly hand, still dripping with clear venom, and stalked into the lobby.

Matt walked over and knelt in front of Derek, flipping him on his back. He was now completely paralyzed.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the floor. “This kid?”

“Well, Derek, not everyone’s lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf.”

Matt straightened up, glancing between you, Scott, and Stiles. “That’s right! I’ve learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas...it’s like a freakin’ halloween party every full moon.”

He smirked. “Except for you Stiles. What do you turn into?”

Stiles glared at him.

“Abominable snowman,” he snarked. “But it’s more of, like, a wintertime thing. You know...seasonal.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and in seconds, Jackson was swiping his claws across the back of Stiles neck.

“Hey!” you cried.

“Bitch,” Stiles swore at Matt, before his knees went out from under him. He crashed onto the ground, right on top of Derek’s chest.

“Get him off of me,” Derek growled.

Matt laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must suck though, having all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you’re not used to feeling this helpless.”

Derek glared up at him from the floor. “Still got some teeth. Scoot down here a little closer, huh? We’ll see how helpless I am.”

“Yeah, bitch.”

Stiles’ voice was muffled from being facedown against Derek’s chest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

For the second time that night, headlights flashed through the windows of the sheriff’s station. You could hear another car pulling to a stop outside.

“Is that your mom?” Matt asked. “Do what I tell you to, and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her.

“Scott, don’t trust him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt.

Scott remained frozen in front of the door, but Matt was impatient. He reached forward, snatching you by your hair and tugging you back against him. He wrapped his arm around your neck, squeezing against your windpipe and cutting off your breath.

“This work better for you?” he asked Scott.

You reached up, scratching at his arms, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Okay, stop, just stop,” your brother begged.

“Then do what I tell you to!” Matt spat.

“Okay, alright, stop!”

Matt finally let you go, right as you were on the verge of blacking out. You hit the floor on your hands and knees, gasping and dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“You,” Matt said, gesturing to Jackson. “Take them in there. You two, with me.”

He yanked you up off the ground by your arm, and gestured for Scott to open the door as Jackson hauled Derek and Stiles out of the lobby.

When the door finally opened, Matt pulled you behind the corner of the hallway. You could hear the door squeaking open, and your mom asking “Scott?”

You were trembling as Matt held you back against his chest. What would he do to your mom?”

“You scared me,” you heard her say. “Where is everyone?”

That was when Matt shoved you out in front of him. Your mom gasped your name. As far as she had known, you were still missing.

When she saw Matt come out behind you and press the gun against your back, she froze.

“Mom,” Scott told her nervously. “Just do what he says. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He’s right,” Matt agreed.

Then, he raised the gun, and shot Scott in the stomach. You and your mom both screamed, but as she rushed forward, Matt pointed the gun at you.

“But I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Scott was holding himself up using the wall, just barely managing to not fall to his knees. He had one hand pressed against his side, and blood was beginning to pool through his shirt. You knew he would heal from the gunshot wound, but your mom didn’t.

She tried to step forward, but Matt waved the gun.

“Back! Back!” he ordered.

“Mom,” Scott choked. “Mom, do it. Please mom.”

You could hear Stiles' dad from all the way at the back of the station. He had undoubtedly heard the gunshot.

“Matt! Matt, listen to me-!”

“Shut up!” Matt roared. “Shut up! Everybody shut the hell up!”

He gestured to Scott before training the gun back on you. “Get up, or I shoot your sister next.”

“Please,” your mom begged. Tears were running down her cheeks. “He needs to see a doctor.”

Matt tilted his head. “You think so?”

“It’s alright,” Scott insisted. “I’m okay.”

“No, sweetie, you’re not,” your mom insisted.

She began to babble about how he was just feeling the adrenaline, how he needed to get to the hospital. You looked over at your brother, and he met your eyes. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his secret after this, provided you all made it out alive.

“They have no idea, do they?” Matt asked you.

You didn’t answer him. Your mom was still trying to convince Matt to let her take Scott to the hospital.

“Lady, if you keep talking, I’m going to put the next bullet in her head.”

He raised the gun to your skull. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the barrel of the gun against your skin.

Your mom took a deep breath, and held up her hands. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving wet lines of black mascara. “Okay...okay.”

Matt shoved you in front of him, pushing you down the hall. He paraded you back through the station, and locked your mom into the cell next to the bench Stilinski was cuffed to.

When Matt shut the cell door, your mom reached out through the bars, grasping your hand tightly. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, tears slipping from your own eyes. “I’m okay. Stiles and Scott made sure I was safe.”

“Back to the front McCall!” Matt barked. “Both of you!”

You glanced back at your mom reluctantly as Matt shoved you in front of him. He walked behind you and your brother as you headed out into the hallway. Then, he herded you into the station breakroom.

There were a few tables and some chairs, but even though you were exhausted, you were too afraid to sit down. Scott leaned against one of the tables, still grasping his bloody side. You guessed the wound wasn’t fully healed yet. If the bullet hadn’t exited, it wouldn’t be able to close unless someone pulled it out.

“The evidence is gone,” Scott told him. “Why don’t you just go?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “You really think the evidence mattered that much? No. No, I want the book.”

“What book?” Scott asked him,

“The bestiary!” Matt snarled. “And not just a few pages. I want the entire thing.”

“I don’t have it. It’s Gerard’s. You told him that, didn’t you?” He was looking at you now. You shrugged. “I tried.”

Scott glanced back over at Matt. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“I need answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Frustrated, Matt yanked up the edge of his shirt, revealing his scale-covered side. “To this!”

Scott’s eyes went wide. If Matt was turning into another kanima, there was nothing stopping him from killing whoever he wanted. When you looked at your brother’s face, you had the sneaking suspicion that you two would be next on his list.

------

Stiles laid on the floor of the station, staring up at the ceiling. The tiled floor was cold against his back, which was a welcome relief considering sweat was dripping down his neck. He wasn’t sure whether it was just hot in the station, or if he was nervous. If he was being honest, it was both.

He and Derek had been lying there for what felt like hours, but Stiles knew it was probably only thirty minutes.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you know what’s happening to Matt?”

“I know the book’s not gonna help him,” Derek said grimly. “You can’t just break the rules. Not like this.”

Stiles tried to look over at him from the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?”

“The universe balances things out. It always does.”

“Is it because he’s using Jackson to kill people who don’t deserve it?”

“And killing people himself,” Derek added.

Stiles thought for a moment. “So if he breaks the rules of the Kanima, he becomes the Kanima?”

“Balance,” Derek agreed.

“Will he believe us if we tell him that?”

“Probably not.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay, he’s gonna kill all of us once he gets that book, isn’t he?”

“Yep...except for maybe Scott’s sister.”

Stiles gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna kick his ass the second I can move again.”

“That’s a great way to get her throat ripped out too.”

Stiles didn’t respond. He knew Derek was right, but a part of him wanted to go after Matt without thinking about the consequences. He knew he had left those bruises on your neck. He knew that the minute you shattered Matt’s fantasy, he would kill you too. He had to do something before that happened.

“I know you’re in love with her.”

Stiles swallowed at Derek’s words. “Maybe.”

“I can tell. I know you’d do anything to save her, but right now, we need to be smarter.”

“Alright,” Stiles relented. “So what do we do? Do we just sit here and wait to die?”

“Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body faster, like triggering the healing process.”

“Wha-”

He glanced down, only to realize that Derek’s claws were now protruding from his fingers. They had grown into his jeans, right into his skin, where blood was beginning to ooze.

Stiles gagged. “Oh, gross.”

-----

Back in the breakroom of the station, Matt shook his head, letting his shirt fall back down. He glanced between you and Scott.

“You know, I feel sorry for you guys. Cause right now you’re probably thinking ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’. And the sad part is, you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you are healing. Cause you know what happens to anyone else when they get shot? They die!”

You and Scott exchanged uneasy glances.

“Is that what happened to you?” your brother asked.

Matt was silent. He was staring at the ground, but he didn’t look as vicious as he had earlier. He actually seemed kind of tired. Scott seemed to notice this too, so he continued to press.

“You drowned, didn’t you?”

“He shouldn’t have let them drink,” Matt muttered, still staring at the floor.

“What?” you asked. “Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

“Lahey!” He suddenly exploded. “He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

You flinched back, closer to your brother.

“What?” Scott asked. “Who was drinking?”

“The swim team, you idiot! I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know they had just won State…”

You and Scott listened to Matt as he went on and on. He explained how, when he was in eighth grade, he had been heading over to Isaac’s to trade comics. Mr. Lahey was throwing a party for his swim team and letting them drink around the pool. All of Matt’s victims had been there. Tucker, Cara, Bennett, even Jessica and Shawn, the married couple.

They were joking around when Matt came into the backyard, tossing each other into the pool. Isaac’s brother Camden decided to throw Matt in too. They didn’t know he couldn’t swim.

“And the next thing I know, I’m lying by the pool,” Matt explained. “And Lahey’s standing over me, and he’s saying ‘You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing. You tell no one.’ And I didn’t.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I would wake up every night, gasping for breath. My parents thought I was an asthamatic. They even got me and inhaler. They didn’t know that everytime I closed my eyes, I…I was drowning.”

He was silent for a few moments, and then he looked back at you and Scott. “And then came Kate Argent’s funeral.”

His lips began to curl into a smile as he explained how he had realized he and Jackson were bonded.

“I was taking some photos, and then, purely by accident, Lahey gets in one of them. I looked down at my camera, and I just had this unbelievable rage that filled up inside of me. I looked at him and I just...I wanted to see him dead.”

Matt let out a disbelieving laugh. “And the next day, he actually was! You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology, like...like the Furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He looked over at Scott, who was staring at him, dumbfounded. Matt rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”

Scott swallowed. “Was that...was that the guy that stabbed out his eyes.”

“That’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Matt barked.

His gaze snapped over at you. “You know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

You nodded carefully. “The furies were deities of vengeance, weren’t they?”

Matt nodded. “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If there was a crime that had gone unpunished, the Furies would do the punishing. Jackson is my Fury. You know, when I saw him the next night, I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again.”

Matt began to smile to himself again. “So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me! So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera...and in a few hours, he was dead. So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture, and Jackson would take their life.”

You glanced over at Scott, who looked just as concerned as you were. Matt was giving no indication that he would stop the killings. You were pretty sure that he and Stiles were next on his list.

Scott opened his mouth, maybe to try and convince Matt to let you all go, but he never got the chance to speak. The thick, acrid smell of smoke filled the air, and suddenly the room was engulfed in a white cloud.

Sirens began to wail, echoing through the halls of the station. They let out a sharp, bleating sound that hurt your ears.

“What is this?!” Matt demanded. “What’s happening? What’s going on?!”

He suddenly reached out, snatching you by the arm.

“I don’t know!” Scott cried. “Y/n, where are you?”

“I’m right here!”

He reached out, trying to see if he could grab you, but Matt yanked you backward against him. He pressed his gun against your side and forced you out the nearest exit.

Bright yellow emergency lights began to flicker, illuminating the breakroom. Jackson passed you and Matt as you left the room. He was headed right toward Scott. You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he dug his nails into your arm.

“Scott!” you screamed.

“I’ll have Jackson rip your mom apart next,” he snarled.

He dragged you through the halls of the station, keeping the gun pressed tightly against your side. The smoke was starting to dissipate now, and the flashing lights ensured that Matt knew where he was going.

He shoved open a door and hauled you into a darkened garage. The long room was bordered by bay doors on one side. A few desks littered the room, but it was mostly filled with police squad cars or transport vans.

Matt dragged you past tool carts and spare tires, and you struggled not to trip.

“Please, Matt,” you begged. “Just let me go.”

“Shut up!” Matt snapped. He looked around frantically until he spotted a door with a glowing, red exit sign. He pushed you toward it and forced you outside.

Cool air hit your face as you stepped out into the night, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it. He broke into a run, keeping one hand on your arm as he pulled you further from the building. Panic began to build in your chest.

A couple hundred yards ahead, the clearing you and Matt were running through ended with a line of trees. There was a small creek running at the edge of it. Farther downstream, a bridge crossed over the water. Matt began to pull you in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, you stumbled, falling onto your knees in the grass. Matt reached down to haul you up, but when his guard was down, you knocked the gun out of his hand. It landed somewhere in the grass, and he was unable to see where it went in the dark.

You scrambled onto your feet as Matt felt for the gun in the grass, but when he realized you were running, he abandoned it.

“No!”

He tackled you to the ground before you could even make it five feet away, and the impact knocked the wind out of you.

You squirmed, but he quickly pinned you down into the grass.

“Get off me!” you gasped, but his hands were pressing your wrists into the grass.

He smiled down at you, but there was an empty look in his eyes. Your heart began to pound even harder against your chest.

“Do you remember when I said that I’m not the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

You writhed under him, but your exhaustion had caught up with you. He was much stronger, and now that he was turning into another kanima, you didn’t have a chance of fighting him off.

Matt didn’t wait for you to respond to him. He just kept talking and grinning down at you with that sick look in his eyes.

“See, that’s not entirely true,” he mused. “Because, Y/n, if I can’t have you. No one can.”

Then his hands were on your neck, squeezing. You fought him, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. He was going to kill you.

You reached up, scratching at his hands and wrists. You could feel his skin peeling away under your nails and the warm, wet blood you were drawing. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Your vision was beginning to cloud. Your attempts to fight him off were growing weaker by the second. All you could think of was Stiles.

The two of you always seemed to be saving each other in one way or another. This time, you had hoped he would be able to rescue you, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. You knew there was no use in hoping for anything else.

Instead, you tried to think about something good. As your mind wandered, you thought of Stiles’ honey brown eyes. You thought of the surprise and delight on his face when you said something funny that he hadn’t expected. You remembered the way he had kissed you the night at the rave, his hands warm on your cheeks.

Everything was beginning to go dark, but you were content. You swore you could hear Stiles’ voice, warm and soothing...and then it was gone.

You opened your eyes, taking one painful, gasping breath. Matt’s weight was no longer on top of you. You rolled over onto your side, desperately sucking in air as you struggled to lift yourself up into a sitting position in the grass.

You looked around, wondering what had happened. That was when you saw Matt being dragged down the hill by Gerard Argent, of all people. You didn’t understand what was happening at first, but then, Gerard threw him down into the bed of the creek.

Gerard waded out until he was knee-deep in the water. Then he grabbed Matt by his t-shirt and thrust his head under water. You watched, horrified, as he drowned him in the creek.

That was when you ran, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure Gerard wouldn’t follow you. He didn’t even look up. Either he would come after you later, or he just didn’t care.

You sprinted past the bridge, only to have a pair of arms reach out and snatch you back. You opened your mouth to scream, but a hand clamped down over your lips, muffling the sound.

You were pushed up against the side of the bridge, the rough stone scraping against your back. When you saw who had grabbed you, your eyes went wide. It was Peter Hale.

It suddenly crossed your mind that maybe you hadn’t escaped Matt in the clearing. Maybe you were dead. Maybe that was why you were face to face with Peter, whose throat Derek had slashed open last month.

He held one finger to his lips as he stared down at you, and while you should have been terrified, you had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Watch,” he said quietly.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around, forcing you to look back at Matt and Gerard. You could see Matt’s motionless body floating in the water. Gerard was now standing up on the bank of the creek, his clothes still dripping wet. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t seem to matter, because what you saw next told you everything you needed to know.

The Kanima was creeping out from the shadows, wandering toward Gerard on its hands and feet. Instead of running, Gerard lifted one arm and raised his palm. The Kanima moved closer, hesitantly. Then it lifted up one scaly, clawed hand, and touched its palm to Gerard’s.

He was now its master.

“Go,” Peter urged in your ear. “Tell your brother what you saw.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Why?”

A smile played at the edge of Peter’s lips. “I have a feeling we’re all on the same team now.”

He let go of your shoulders and you slowly backed away from him, keeping your eyes trained on his shadowy form the entire time. When you were a few yards away, you turned your back and took off running toward the station.

Your chest was burning as you raced back toward Scott and the others. When you pushed open the doors of the station, several officers whirled around and trained their guns on you. You guessed Stiles’ dad had called for backup at some point.

As you threw up your hands, you were able to see the Sheriff, your mom, and Stiles all standing in the lobby.

“Y/n!” Stiles cried. “Oh thank god.”

The officers lowered their guns, and Stiles rushed over. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. You froze in his arms, not quite sure how to handle his touch. The feeling of being caged against him made your skin crawl. Though you hated to admit it, it reminded you of Matt.

He pulled away suddenly, realizing you weren’t reciprocating.

“Hey...are-are you okay?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The lights of the station were too bright, and the sound of the deputies’ boots thumping on the floor caused you to flinch. You didn’t even know where to start.

Stiles watched in shock as you suddenly burst into tears. He wanted to reach out and hold you, but by the way you had just reacted, he was afraid to touch you.

“Oh, uh…”

Before he could think of anything to say, your mom rushed over and put a hand on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet, Sweetheart.”

She cast a sympathetic glance in Stiles’ direction and led you down the hall. The Sheriff followed after the two of you, no doubt planning to take your statement. Matt was nowhere to be found, and Stiles was willing to bet you knew what happened to him.

He wanted to follow, but he knew if he did, his dad would just kick him out of the room. You were a witness now, and they would need an official statement from you.

Scott came jogging down the hallway. Stiles realized he must have heard you come back.

By then, the door to the office you had disappeared into was shut.

Scott headed over to Stiles. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “But I don’t think your sister’s okay.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #@screamxqueenx94 #tw kidnapping #tw stalking

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thatharringrovehoe · 3 years

Text

Part 1

Dear Steve

Bambi

Princess

Harrington. I know I'm never going to give you this. So I guess I can write whatever the fuck I want. It's not gunna matter when I leave anyway so. I'm really fucking sorry I kicked the shit out of you. There was a lot of shit I was dealing with that night and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The plate was to much. Now that I know you a little better I know you weren't doing any perv shit with Max. She won't tell me what happened that night, but she kept a copy of one of the NDA's she signed. So whatever the fuck it was I know you protected her. After I beat the shit out of you. Fuck. I'm sorry I'm a coward and you're never going to read this. But I just can't. I knew I was gunna get stupid over you as soon as I pulled up that first day at school. Saw you standing with Wheeler by you fancy ass car and wanted to throw you into the back of the Camaro, treat you right. But I couldn't. I can't. My dad would kill me. And I mean literally. It's the reason we moved to this bum fuck nowhere town. He caught me sucking off some cute twink by the boardwalk and kicked my ass all the way to Sunday. I was in the hospital for a week and by the time they discharged me we were moving the next day. Guess he figured Hawkins was gunna set me straight. Which jokes on him cuz I met the prettiest boy I had ever fuckin seen. Fell halfway in love with him when he punched me in the face that November. Fell the rest of the way when he let me stay at his place after my dad laid into me real bad three months later. Told me I didn't deserve it. Broke out his dads fancy scotch and we got black out drunk at 3 in the morning on a Tuesday. Fuck I wish I could tell you. Because I'm gunna miss you so goddamn much when I go back to Cali. You don't know how many times I almost asked you to come with me. I could teach you to surf and we'd both get crappy jobs. Rent a shoebox apartment. But I then I think of that family you talk about. The kids and the dog and the white picket fence. I can't give you those things. I can't ask you to give up those things. Hell you don't even like men so even if I could it wouldn't matter. It's why I can't give you this letter. It's why I gotta high tail it back to Cali the day I graduate without telling you. Because I know if I see you I won't be able to. I can't say goodbye to you Bambi. I'd end up staying in this shit town just to be near you. Live the rest of my life dying inside while you fall in love with some pretty rich girl and raise those kids you want so bad in your nice big house. I gotta leave for the both of us. Because I love you.

Steve crumples up the note after reading it for what must be the 500th time. Twists it gently in his hands as he waits on the stoop of what is hopefully Billy's apartment complex. God this was a stupid idea. It's been six whole months since Billy up and left without a fucking word. He's probably over Steve. Hell he probably has a boyfriend. Looking the way Billy does Steve wouldn't be surprised. Gutted but not surprised. The California sun beats down on him as he waits for Billy to get home. Whenever that is. It's December and Steve's body is used to frigid Indiana winters. Not this sunny sea breeze heat. He twists the note a little harder, bounces his leg as he waits and waits and waits. God he's drawing some looks. Probably. He's been sitting here for going on two hours now and is starting to realize packing up his BMW with a bag of essentials with nothing but a note and a maybe address to go confront the love of his life was probably not a very well thought out plan. God what was he even gunna say?

Hey Billy, Max found your note while taking out the trash and gave it to me because she knew I was fucking heartbroken when you up and ditched me without a word. And I just thought I would drive for three whole days just to see if you still mean it even though it's been half a year and you've probably forgotten all about me and I'm sorry I never told you that I lo-

"Steve?"

Steve's head whips up and his heart fucking skips what must be 10 whole beats. That can't be healthy. Because there stands Billy fucking Hargrove carrying a paper bag of what is probably groceries. God he looks good. His hair is longer, dirty blonde curls reaching just past his shoulders. His skin is a deeper shade of tan under his white wife beater and denim shorts. And beyond all that he looks, relaxed. Carries himself with an ease he didn't have back in Hawkins. California has been good to him.

"What are you doing here?"

What the fuck is Steve doing here? When Max gave him the note he hadn't even thought about not going to see Billy. Had begged her for the address Billy had given her before he left just in case shit with Neil ever got bad. In case she needed to leave. But they hadn't spoken since and there was no guarantee that Billy hadn't moved. That he'd even made it to California at all. Just packed his car and drove. He feels kind of stupid now. Kind of wishes he had thought of something to say before hand instead of just flying by the seat of his pants.

"Hello Earth to Harrington?"

Right. Fuck. He's just been staring at Billy like a fucking freak.

"I- uh. Hi Billy."

Wow Steven real smooth. Great Job. Very natural.

"I just um. I...got your letter."

Billy looks confused. Fuck, he did forget. You're an idiot Steve Harrington.

"You know what I'm starting to realize I may have jumped the gun here and uh.. I'm gunna go."

He stands up from the cement steps and feels the stretch of his sore muscles. He hadn't really moved once he sat down to wait. Billy puts down his groceries.

"Woe woe hey you don't have to-.. Oh shit."

When Steve looks over at Billy he's gone a little pale despite the tan. Is staring with wide eyes at the crumpled stationary clutched in Steve's fist.

"Steve. I can..Fuck I can explain."

And you know what? Fuck this. Steve doesn't need to hear this when he already feels like the worlds biggest fucking loser. Drove all the way across the country just to see a boy who had moved on. Had left Steve behind. Just like everyone else.

#the hoe writes #harringrove #billy hargrove/steve harrington #billy hargrove #Part 1

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

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I hope that you are doing well! I love the your writing! If you are open to a Tarlos fic request: TK to Carlos after the doctor has told him Carlos might not make it through the next 48hrs "I cannot imagine life without you, please don't let me live my greatest fear. I won't survive."

Carlos has been working a case and it happens that he becomes a target. He starts getting messages at work, at home and becomes paranoid but doesn't tell TK, but TK can see that Carlos is on edge. Carlos picks a fight with TK so that he goes to stay with Owen for a while. Carlos does this to protect him, let him at least stay away so that if anything happens, TK is safe. Then one night, Carlos is alone at home and someone breaks in, torture ensues and he is barely clinging to life. He calls 911, Grace answers and he can barely get the words out "it's Carlos, send help". 📍

holly's august extravaganza day 10: i can't imagine my life without you

thank you!

ao3 | 1.9k | descriptions of torture, major character injury, angst, hopeful ending, open ending

TK knows he’s annoying people. The atmosphere in the ambulance is thick with tension whenever they’re out on a call, and it’s not much better back at the firehouse. He tries to keep his distance, occupying himself in the gym or aggressively doing chores, but he can’t avoid everyone forever and his bad mood is starting to spill over.

Like when he and Nancy fell back into their old pattern of snipping at each other, or when he nearly bit Paul’s head off when he asked what was wrong. It was less the question itself—though TK certainly doesn’t want to get into why he’s so out of it—and more the way Paul phrased it. Nobody likes to be asked ‘trouble in paradise?’, particularly when the answer is yes.

He just doesn’t understand. It had come completely out of left field—one minute everything was fine, the next Carlos had turned to him with guarded eyes and a clenched jaw, and said six words that sent TK’s whole world crashing down.

“I think we need a break.”

Carlos hadn’t explained why; when TK had tried to push, he’d turned it into a fight, until TK had no choice but to leave. He’s been staying with his dad for a week now and he desperately misses his boyfriend, torn between wanting to go over and check on him and wanting to give him space.

He’d settled on a text, a simple you okay?, which still felt woefully inadequate. Carlos had been on edge for weeks before the blow up and TK hadn’t been able to get a word out of him about why.

The text is still unanswered, though it’s been marked as Read.

TK huffs and hauls himself up into the ambulance to check stock. He knows Nancy has already done it and she’s going to be pissed if she catches him, but he needs to keep his mind occupied somehow, lest he start to spin out. But the peace he finds is short-lived, as not ten minutes after he starts, TK looks up from his clipboard to see Judd approaching, hands held out in a pacifying gesture.

It has the opposite effect, TK’s nerves becoming that bit more frayed at the spooked animal treatment he’s getting, but his pointed glare does nothing to deter Judd. Nor does turning his back and returning to work, as he finds out when Judd’s heavy footsteps stop behind the rig and don’t move away.

“TK,” Judd says, his voice suspiciously rough.

TK doesn’t bother turning around, hoping it will get the message across. “Fuck off, Judd,” he says, which would normally be a guarantee of riling him up enough to get him to either leave TK alone or engage in a more physical manner.

At this point, TK doesn’t really care which reaction he gets.

Unfortunately, he’s not in luck today. Which, honestly, tracks.

“I got a phone call,” Judd continues, undeterred, “from Grace. Now, I figure you’ll be getting a similar one soon enough, but we thought it might be better if you heard it from us first.”

TK sighs and hangs his head, reluctantly turning around. “What?” he snaps out. When Judd doesn’t react, not even with a raised eyebrow, a quiet dread begins to pool in his gut, a little voice in the back of his head telling him he already knows ‘what’.

He tries to push it down, but there are very few reasons why Grace would call Judd and ask to talk to him. TK takes the proffered phone in a shaking hand, his heart starting to pound as he lifts it to his ear.

“Grace?”

“Hey, TK.” Grace’s voice is gentle, as it always is, but there’s a soothing note to it now, and more of the pieces start to slot together in TK’s head. “Listen, honey, I’m at work and I just got a call come through. I’m… I’m so sorry, TK. It was Carlos.”

TK’s breath catches, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “What do you mean?” he demands, voice shaky. “What do you mean ‘you’re sorry’?”

“He was… I don’t know. He was barely able to talk, but it sounded real bad. EMS 122 were in the area at the time so I sent them out; they should have arrived at the hospital by now.”

And TK… TK doesn’t know what to say to that. He slumps back on the bench in the rig, breathing turning shallow as he imagines what could have happened to Carlos. The last time they’d seen each other—the last time they’d spoken—it had ended with them throwing insults across the kitchen island and with TK packing a bag and slamming the door behind him.

The thought that it might be the last memory they have together kills him inside.

He needs answers. Before he can face this new reality, he needs to know what happened, which means there’s only one thing he can do right now.

“Grace?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I want to hear it.”

Judd has followed him up to the mercifully empty bunkroom, refusing to leave after both his and Grace’s attempts to dissuade him had failed. TK ignores him for the most part, but he does give in to his request to put the phone on speaker. Much as he wants to deal with this on his own, it is a kind of comfort to have Judd’s steady presence next to him.

“Are you sure about this, TK?” Grace asks for the millionth time. TK appreciates her concern, but he needs this. He needs to hear it for himself.

“I’m sure.”

“Alright then.”

He hears a few clicks and then the recording starts, Grace’s voice coming over the speaker.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

No response.

“Hello?”

The silence continues, broken only by static, and then what TK recognises as heavy, gasping breaths.

“Hello, is anyone there?”

A few more seconds pass, and then, “Grace.”

TK has to suppress a sob at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice—though, if he didn’t know for sure it was Carlos, he wouldn’t have recognised it. His words come out ragged and hoarse, riding on breaths that seem to be getting slower and more laboured by the second. TK clutches the phone tighter in his hand, biting down hard on his lip.

“It’s… It’s Carlos. I… Send help. Please.”

“Carlos, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

But Grace goes unanswered, and TK suddenly notices that he can no longer hear the sound of Carlos breathing. His own breaths hitch, his lungs refusing to expand properly, and his vision blurs with tears as he curls in on himself, hands braced on the edge of the bed and gripping tightly onto the covers.

He doesn’t notice Judd taking the phone back, nor is he aware of him moving to sit next to him until he’s being pulled into a strong embrace, TK’s head cradled against Judd’s chest. Judd whispers things TK doesn’t hear as his hands gently rub his back, the touch grounding him as he loses himself to tears and the overwhelming pain in his heart.

Five minutes later, TK’s phone rings.

Fifteen minutes after that, they arrive at the hospital.

“Please,” TK whispers, clutching onto the hand in both of his. “Please don’t make me do this. I don’t… I don’t want to live a life without you in it. I can’t, you understand me? I can’t. If you leave, I won’t survive it, so you just hang on for me, alright? Forget what the doctor thinks, you keep fighting, and come back to me. Please, Carlos. Please.”

TK looks up, hoping to see Carlos’s beautiful brown eyes staring right back at him, but of course they’re not. He might never see them again, which is something TK is still trying to wrap his head around. That’s not the only thing either; Carlos has so many injuries that he’s struggling to remember them all—the only thing he does remember with horrific clarity is the doctor’s words when he’d asked to speak to TK privately.

“We’ve done what we can, but I’m afraid Officer Reyes’s wounds are grave and there is a significant possibility that he may not make it beyond the next 48 hours. If he does, then we will re-evaluate, but currently his chances of recovery are slim. I’m truly sorry.”

TK wipes away a stray tear and presses a kiss to Carlos’s bruised knuckles. His other hand is completely shattered, and TK can barely stand to look at his face; it’s been beaten to a pulp, there’s a patch over one eye, and whoever attacked him even went so far as to rip out some of his teeth.

It’s grim, and that’s to say nothing of the rest of his body. Torture is the only word to describe what happened to Carlos—brutal, savage, and without mercy, somebody tortured him in their home.

And he was alone.

“Son, you didn't know.”

“That’s no excuse. I left him.”

“Carlos pushed you away. He was trying to protect you.”

“And where was I when he needed protection?”

“TK—”

“Don’t, Dad.”

“TK, I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Please, Mitchell. I need to know. Carlos knew something was going to happen but he chose to drive me away instead of letting me in. I just… I just want answers.”

“...I’ll see what I can do.”

Carlos makes it through the 48 hours, but not without incident. Somewhere around hour 32, the machines had started going haywire, summoning an army of doctors who shoved TK out of the room, leaving him to stare in through the blinds as they worked to save Carlos’s life.

They’d done it, but it had taken TK hours to come down from the resulting panic attack.

“Oh my god.”

Mitchell is standing at his shoulder, watching him warily as he flips through the file she brought him from the station. She keeps looking around anxiously, as if her sergeant is going to appear and arrest her for misconduct at any moment, but TK only has eyes for the images and words in front of him.

“Did you know about this?” he asks, gesturing to the myriad of threatening messages they’d apparently found in Carlos’s desk.

She shakes her head. “We noticed he’d been acting weird, but we figured something was going on between you two. He never said a word to anyone that I know of.” She pauses and sighs shakily, placing a comforting hand on TK’s shoulder. “We, um. We found some at your house, too. In Carlos’s nightstand.”

TK stares, first at Mitchell, then at the file, then at Carlos, still just as silent and motionless as he’s been since the day all this happened. “Why?” he breathes, and he doesn’t know which one of them he’s addressing the question to.

The doctors are amazed when they get to a week and Carlos’s heart is still beating. He still has a ventilator breathing for him and there’s still been no sign of him waking up, but he’s not giving up.

TK wants to say that he never doubted him, but he can’t ignore his paramedic training. He’d heard how badly Carlos was injured; he’d seen the crime scene photos and all the blood coating their bedroom.

(He’d needed several minutes in the bathroom to recover from that sight)

Much as he didn’t want to admit it, all the signs pointed to Carlos not making it.

But he’s still here. Still fighting. And TK can’t help but let that little bit of hope into his heart.

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