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#previous tag was a lie i have square brain
aura-can-draw · 1 year
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clearly he dosent own an air fryer
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edith-hyde · 1 year
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Norman Osborn X Female Reader
I Forgot My Umbrella - Part 36
Word Count: 3237
Summary: You run into some new potential friends during lunch. On your way back to work, something unexpected happens.
Warnings: Age gap. PG/PG-13.
A/N: Ya know that moment in the K-Drama where something jarring happens to heighten the tension? We're there lol
Tagging: @druigswh0ree @digital-demise @maskmare931 @b1ueoff1ine @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @wtfhasmy-lifecometo
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——
Lunch time rolled around and you planned to eat with Norman at the café across the street.
Unfortunately, Norman was held up by a meeting and told you to go on without him. 
With a dejected heart, you headed across the street to get your meal. You had an hour lunch and spent the first few minutes sketching as you waited for your food. Thinking about the past weekend, you started drawing Norman and Harry side by side. You realized they had quite a few features in common now that you were thinking about it. The strong cheekbones, square jaw, fluffy hair… But you much preferred Norman’s features between the two. They were sharper, more confident. 
And aged to perfection.
You giggled to yourself, totally entrenched in your work. So you nearly jumped out of your skin when a voice spoke from behind you.
“That’s really good!”
You twisted around to see Harry standing over your shoulder. You instantly slammed the sketchbook shut and started babbling. 
“Ha-Harry?! What are you-? When did you-?”
Harry held up his hands in defense. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I was actually just coming over here to say hi and ask if you wanted to come eat with us.”
“Us?”
You peeked around Harry and spotted Peter Parker sitting across from a red headed young woman. Peter saw you and gave a small awkward wave.
“Oh…”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Harry shrugged.
“No! I’d like to. Sorry. You just surprised me is all…”
You gathered your things and went to join Harry and his two friends.
“Pete, MJ, this is Y/N.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Peter. And it’s nice to meet you, MJ.”
MJ gave you a pleasant smile.
“Hi! You can sit here.”
MJ moved her purse so you could sit next to her. This put you across from Harry, who was currently glancing between you and Peter with confusion.
“You and Pete have met before?” Harry questioned.
“Yeah,” Peter said with a bob of his head, “I went to your dad’s office over a week ago to talk about the apartment. Ya know, that’s when he offered me the job.”
“Ah right…”
Harry suddenly grinned at you. 
“Hey, Y/N. Show ‘em the drawing you were doing.”
“Oh I’d rather not,” you said as your face flushed red.
“But it’s really good! I can’t believe you drew it from memory. Come on.”
You arched an eyebrow at Harry. He didn’t seem to think there was anything weird about what you were sketching and that surprised you. Perhaps it was because he was a fellow artist? 
Or perhaps drawing your boss and his son wasn’t as weird as you thought it was.
Yeah right.
With a deep breath, you opened the sketchbook. You were extra careful not to show the other incriminating pages as you tried to find the one you had been working on. With a great deal of apprehension, you turned the book around to show the table. You watched everyone’s reactions. Harry smiled with pride. Peter looked with contained awe. And MJ’s eyes widened to the size of baseballs.
“Wow Harry wasn’t joking, you are good!” she praised, “You really drew this from memory?”
“Yeah,” you answered sheepishly, “Harry came in yesterday and I couldn’t help but notice some similarities between him and Nor- Dr. Osborn. It’s my artist's brain. I can’t help it. I like to draw the people around me.”
It wasn’t a lie so much as a bent version of the truth. You really did like to draw the people around you. You just left out how, lately, the only person you had been around to draw was Norman.
“They do look alike,” Peter agreed, “But you’ve really captured their distinct looks.”
“I know right?” Harry laughed, “It’s like looking in a mirror!”
You closed the sketchbook and MJ tilted her head.
“Can we see some other sketches?”
“Oh no!” you answered immediately with a laugh, “This sketchbook is like my diary. So some of the drawings are personal… Ya know?”
MJ nodded her understanding.
“Better put a lock and key on it then. Harry might snoop.”
“Hey!” Harry said defensively, “I already said I was sorry for that. Let it go.”
MJ smirked and you had the feeling that they were referencing something that happened while they were dating. It was good that they were able to joke about it, you thought. That meant that they were on their way to being proper friends again.
“Say, Y/N, where are you going to college?”
Harry’s question made you give a scathing laugh.
“Nowhere! Thank God I am past all that mess.”
Harry’s eyebrows went up.
“You’ve already graduated college?”
“Yeah. Got my art degree last year… Wait… How old did you think I was?”
Harry turtled into himself, suddenly shy.
“I guess I just assumed you were the same age as us.”
You shook your head with an amused smile.
“Thanks for thinking I look so youthful, but I’ll be 24 this year. Not saying I’m old, but I’m very much older than you.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at Harry’s pouting face. It took him a second to recover and you took the time to address the other two at the table.
“So what are the two of you majoring in?”
“I’m trying to be an actress,” MJ said shyly, “Trying and failing if I am being honest.”
“You’re not failing!” Peter quickly defended, “You’re doing great. That play you were in last week was amazing.”
“Pete, I was an extra for one scene,” MJ laughed with an eyeroll.
“Still. You were great.”
You smiled. Peter was clearly in love with MJ. He adored everything she did, no matter how small it was. Harry just rolled his eyes, clearly not finding their exchange as cute as you did.
“Pete here is gonna be some kind of scientist, ain’tcha Pete?”
Peter glanced at you and gave a half smile.
“I haven’t fully decided what field to go into yet.”
“Well, Dr. Osborn seems to think that you’ll be very helpful with some genetics research he’s doing. He’s already got a project in mind for you.”
Peter took a breath, his smile becoming apprehensive. 
“Oh boy… Sounds… fun. I’ll probably go with you back to OSCORP to pick that up so I can start earning my paycheck.”
You turned your attention to Harry.
“And what about you, Harry? Are you an art major?”
You already knew the answer but you couldn’t risk letting Harry know how much you knew about him.
“HA!” Harry shook his head, “No, I’m going into business so I can run OSCORP when my dad retires.”
You nodded and wondered just how much Harry actually wanted to run his father’s business. There was a high chance that Harry didn’t want the burden. But you doubted that he would ever tell Norman that. Despite his bumpy past with his father, he still sought his approval and strove to be more like him. It was both sad and admirable.
“I don’t envy you, Y/N,” MJ blurted, “Having to work with Harry’s father every day. That has to be rough.”
Harry scowled at MJ, but she didn’t back down. She meant every word she said. You couldn’t fault her for her opinion either. The Norman Osborn she had the displeasure of meeting was quite nasty towards her. But you wanted to change her opinion; if it was even possible.
“It’s actually not bad at all,” you said with a smile, “Working with Norman Osborn has been quite nice. He’s the best employer I’ve ever had.”
MJ gave you a skeptical frown.
“Really?”
“Yes really,” you laughed, “I know he wasn’t always so pleasant in the past, but since I’ve started working there, he’s been very kind. It can be hard work, keeping up with all the moving pieces, planning everything, but I enjoy it.”
“That’s good,” Peter piped up, “Right guys?”
“It still freaks me out,” Harry admitted, “You didn’t know him before… But suddenly, right before Christmas, he just changed out of the blue. Wanted to apologize to everybody for everything. It was weird.”
“Glad you finally admit it,” MJ said sourly, “I still don’t trust him, Harry. I’m sorry. Even if he did apologize.”
Harry rolled his eyes.
“I think it’s great that he’s trying to be different,” Peter interjected, “You’ve gotta give people a chance, right?”
You nodded your agreement.
“People can change,” you added, “Whatever the reason was, I am glad Dr. Osborn has been trying. It makes working there very easy. And OSCORP can finally be known for doing more than selling weapons. That’s something to be proud of.”
“I’m still holding out,” MJ said pointedly, “If he can keep this up for the rest of the year, then I’ll believe it.”
“Honestly…Same.” Harry admitted, “I’m waiting to see if it sticks…”
“That’s fair,” you nodded, “I have the utmost faith in him though.”
Harry arched an eyebrow.
“You do? Why?”
You instantly started floundering. 
“Well… because…. Because I like to see people succeed at their personal goals, ya know? I care about everyone around me. Even Dr. Osborn. He’s my boss after all. And he gave me a job when no one else would. I wanna help him in any way I can. I feel like I owe him.”
Luckily, Harry bought your reasoning. Again, it wasn’t so much of a lie as it was a different view of the truth. You really did care about Norman’s goals. And you did owe him for your job. Without it, you would’ve had to move back home.
“Thanks for taking care of him,” Harry said in earnest, “And don’t let him push you around. He can be a big jerk sometimes, but he’s a good man.”
You saw MJ roll her eyes, making it clear that she did not share Harry’s opinion of his father. But you put on a smile and nodded.
“You’re welcome, Harry.”
For the rest of lunch you swapped stories with the trio. You learned a great deal more about their personalities and interests. Peter also liked to draw, but hardly ever had the time. He was also into photography. MJ shocked you with her knowledge of movies and actors. And Harry spent a lot of his free time painting and listening to classical music. 
You were glad that most of the conversations didn’t dig too much into your personal life. You had no idea how to respond if they had asked you if you had a boyfriend.
As you were getting ready to leave, Harry stopped you right outside the door.
“Say… Were you going to the Gala this Friday?”
You gave Harry a beaming smile as you nodded.
“Yup!”
“Did you… Do you have a…”
You cocked an eyebrow at the younger Osborn who was clearly struggling to ask you something. His ears were starting to turn red- instantly reminding you of Norman. You smiled fondly as you thought of your boyfriend, waiting for Harry to ask his question.
“I just wanted to know if… If you had a plus one for the Gala?”
“Oh! Yeah, I am taking my friend Tracy. Why do you ask?”
Harry ran a hand through his hair as he shrugged.
“Ah, no reason. I just didn’t want you to feel awkward if you were showing up without a date. I was thinking about going but I dunno…”
“Oh you should totally go!” You said with an encouraging smile, “I did all the planning for it. You should come just to support my hard work!”
You and Harry laughed.
“Alright. I’ll go. But just for you.”
You turned to Peter and MJ.
“You guys should come to the Gala too. Now that Pete will be working at OSCORP, he’ll be invited. It's a Fantasy Masquerade.”
MJ’s eyes lit up and you could tell that she was interested in going- Even if it meant that Norman would be there. MJ clearly liked fancy parties.
“I dunno,” Peter shrugged, “I may not have the time.”
“Please, Peter?” MJ pleaded, “Can we go? I don’t even care if we show up late.”
Peter looked MJ up and down before smiling.
“Alright. I’ll see if I can make it work.”
“Great!” you cheered. 
MJ grinned.
“I think I have an idea for an outfit,” she turned to Peter, “I can get you an outfit too!”
“Great,” Peter said with forced enthusiasm.
“I’ll see you guys later,” you laughed, “I have to get back to work and make sure Norman ate something.”
The light turned green on the crosswalk and you started across. But you paused when Peter called out to you.
“I’ll come with you to get those- Y/N LOOK OUT!!!”
Time seemed to freeze in that moment.
You looked to your left to see a red sports car hurtling towards you. They clearly had no intention of slowing down even though they were approaching a red light. You briefly thought about how you needed to get out of the way. 
But your legs wouldn’t move. 
That car was going to hit you and there was nothing you could do.
You were going to die.
Just as you realized how bad this would end, time sped up. 
Something hit your back and you were abruptly yanked backwards. The car blew past you at top speed. The force of it caused you to roll, slamming your head into the asphalt. You heard someone scream and you weren’t sure if it was you or MJ. For a moment everything went black and you were sure the car had hit you. But your eyes opened as you felt the sensation of someone pulling you up onto their lap. You saw a face in your blurry vision.
“Nor…man?”
Your vision cleared and you realized that it wasn’t Norman holding you, but rather his son. Concern and worry was written all over his face as he called out.
“Hey! You with the cellphone! Call 911!!”
“I’m… I’m fine.” 
You tried to sit up fully but felt a surge of pain rip through you. With a gasp, you dropped back down. MJ and Peter appeared over you, both looking equally as worried. Peter knelt beside you and placed a hand to your head.
“The car didn’t hit you,” Peter assured, “You’re going to be fine.”
“I don’t feel so fine,” you chuckled.
Another burst of pain caused you to cry out. Harry took your hand and you immediately wished that it was his father here instead of him. You were scared- no that word wasn’t enough. You were terrified. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. And one thought stood out even though it wasn’t important- Norman was going to be worried that you were so late.
“The ambulance is on its way!” MJ declared. 
“I… I need to tell Norman,” you muttered, “He’s waiting for me. He needs to know… what happened.”
Harry nodded.
“I’ll tell him. After we get you to the hospital.”
“No… I need… I need… Uhhhh… I feel woozy….”
Your hand came to your head and you squeezed your eyes shut. You could hear the distant sirens wailing as they approached. Every other sound blended together to make your ears scream. You tried to breathe but that was starting to become difficult. 
“Y/N!? Harry!?”
Norman’s panicked voice made your eyes snap open. 
“Dad!” Harry called out, “She was… There was a…”
You were suddenly taken from Harry and hefted into Norman’s arms. And you knew instantly- everything would be okay.
Norman felt like his entire world was ending. 
He had left his office in hopes of meeting you at the cafe even though he was so late. But the moment he stepped out of the OSCORP building, he was greeted by a horrific sight. Several onlookers were gathered around while you were down on the street held in the arms of his son. Peter and MJ were standing guard over you, telling people to back up and talking to a man who had the paramedics on the phone. 
The moment Harry’s head came up and saw his father, he called out for him. Norman ran to his side and immediately collected you into his arms. You looked up at him but he could tell by the dull look in your eyes- you were struggling to stay conscious. With determination, Norman lifted you into the air and started carrying you to the sidewalk.
“Dad, I don’t think we should move her-”
“I am getting her out of the street,” Norman snapped, “What happened??!”
Harry wiped at his watering eyes as he gestured back towards the road. 
“She went to cross the street when the light turned red, but there was this sports car that just blew through the light. It almost hit her but she fell back just in time. But she still rolled and I think she hit her head.”
Norman looked at Peter and knew right away that he was the one who had saved your life. There was still a tendril of webbing stuck to your back hidden by your hair. 
If it wasn’t for Peter, you would’ve died.
“Norman…?”
Norman looked down at you and forced a smile. As he knelt down on the sidewalk and placed you in his lap, he lovingly brushed your hair out of your face. In this moment, he didn’t care what others thought. He just wanted you to feel safe.
“I’m here,” he soothed, “Everything will be alright. Just try to stay awake.”
“I’m trying but… I’m kinda tired now…”
Norman grimaced as he inspected the gash on your forehead.
“Do I look awful?” you slurred.
“No,” Norman whispered quickly, “You look as lovely as ever.”
You choked out a laugh.
“I don’t believe you.”
Norman tried to smile and you gave a weak one of your own. 
“Dad! The ambulance is here.”
Looking up, Norman saw the ambulance park as close as possible. A pair of paramedics clambered out of the vehicle and approached. Harry told them exactly what happened as they brought the gurney over for you. Norman was the one who lifted you into it, refusing to let you go. He walked alongside you as they wheeled you to the back of the ambulance. Harry went to get into the vehicle with you, but Norman stopped him.
“I’ll go with her.”
“But-”
“You make sure to get your friends home. Take the car.”
Norman handed Harry his keys and the boy nodded.
“Thanks Dad.”
Norman climbed into the back of the ambulance and took your hand as soon as the doors closed. You had your eyes closed, having finally lost the battle to keep conscious. The paramedic in the back began checking your vitals as the vehicle sped away down the street.
“She’s going to be fine, sir.” The young man insisted. 
Norman didn’t care if the paramedic saw him. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your fingers. He held your hand the whole way to the hospital. He would’ve carried you in himself if they would’ve let him. But he ended up in a waiting room as the doctors took a better look at you. Despite the paramedic’s assurances, Norman paced around with worry. 
He couldn’t lose you. 
He needed you.
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drawlfoy · 3 years
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Wonders of Ohio P.8
masterlist (read parts 1-7 here!) request guidelines
pairing: draco x reader
request: no ma’am this was spawned in the pits of my hell brain
summary: y/n’s family takes on a particularly mysterious exchange student, draco malfoy. fyi: this is NOT a non magic AU--draco is still a wizard
warnings: swearing, college admissions (ew), vague mentions of a car accident
a/n: hey...ahahahaha yeah so when i disappeared from the writing scene i was actually sitting on this chapter because i wanted to finish the entire scene up until draco came back home, but i haven’t quite figured out how everything is going to work in the middle of this story bc we’re getting into the thick of it. things are only going to get more and more wild and while i have the ending already written (oopsies), there’s still a lot to cover between december and august. i promise you it’ll be worth it tho--thanks so much for waiting!
word count: 2.5k
no music recs because i wrote this in november and i don’t remember ANYTHING!
tags tags tags (message me if you’d like to be tagged!) @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan
Y/N froze as she heard someone clear their throat behind her.
In any other situation, she would have fibbed, the lies rolling off her tongue and falling into a neat pile.
But this wasn’t just any situation. 
“Drac--uh, Draco,” she began, rather lamely. She wondered if he could see what she had been doing and then immediately stopped that train of thought--of course he could, she was sitting there crouched with his letters all over the floor next to her.
Y/N had never seen him look so terrible--his eyes were saucers and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“What’s up?” she asked. Maybe I got really lucky and he hasn’t noticed yet.
His mouth opened and closed a few times as he seemed to agonize over what to say. 
“Give me those letters back,” he finally said. “And come into my room. We need to talk.”
She scrambled to get everything back into the satchel--honestly, how had all those fit into such a tiny bag?--and tossed it into his hand. He refused to make eye contact and instead yanked her into his room, shutting the door before closing the blinds.
“Uh...what’s going o--”
“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “You know what you read.”
She withered under his gaze, all of a sudden trained on her with a heat that could melt through iron. 
“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said tying up the satchel and tossing it into a drawer. “You’re going to sit right there and tell me everything that you know. And no lying. I can always tell.”
Something about the weight of his words told her that the last part wasn’t hyperbole. “O--okay. Um, I know that you’re kind of strange, and I know that your family definitely isn’t into politics because unless you’ve changed your name I haven’t been able to find shit on your family...I know that you’re here for some kind of punishment, or at least that’s what the letter said, and that wherever you’re from believes in, uh, magic, or something…”
Y/N had never been so scared of Draco as she was right then. He stood looming over her, his eyes calculating and cold. “You’re telling the truth.”
“Uh--how did you--”
“Is there anything else you want to know? Ask now or forever hold your peace. I promise I’ll take care of this.”
Y/N blinked. “What? What do you mean take care…”
“Don’t...just don’t ask that right now.” Draco’s demeanor made a switch from intimidating to exhausted. His previous towering presence looked more mournful than anything. 
“Ok,” said Y/N, willing to take something else over nothing. “So...why are you here? Where are you actually from? What happened to your dad?”
Draco drew in a few slow breaths. “My family’s name is Malfoy. I never lied to you about that. We’re from England, like you think. But we’re not really from the same world as you.”
He looked at her, gauging her reaction. When nothing came, he continued. “I’m...magic, as you would probably say. Like, wizards and witches and shit. Like the stuff all of you here celebrate for Halloween. Just more real.”
“You’re off your rocker is what you are,” said Y/N. “Magic isn’t real.”
“You’re right, it isn’t,” Draco replied, his tone wearing down. “Not to you. It’s very real to me.”
“Were you in a cult or something because that’s absolute batshit cra--”
“Oh my fucking God can you just listen,” he said in one long-winded breath. “Thank you. Not that it matters that much if you actually believe me and I’m not allowed to show you any magic--they almost sent me back home for spelling my hair neat that one time in the car with you--but you should believe. Did you really think you were just sick after Homecoming? Like, did you think that was the common cold or something?”
“Well…” Y/N trailed off as realization dawned on her.
“I don’t know how you got into that store, but it was magic. Whatever object you picked up did something to you. You would’ve died from muggle care--the only possible treatment was extracting whatever magic had somehow gotten inside you.”
“So you were the person in my dream.”
“Yes. Anyways. So back in England, my family got wrapped up in some...dark business with a very evil wizard. I had to do some things that I’d rather not get into, and those things were serious offenses in the eyes of the Ministry--which is like your government. I was sent here as a punishment instead of something more severe.”
Y/N snorted. “Assuming all of this is true, why did you get sent to America? Normally exchange students see trips to the US as a kind of vacation...but I do understand the part of Ohio being used as a punishment.”
His face was void of amusement. 
“I wasn’t sent here because Ohio is boring,” he said. “I was sent here to be forced to assimilate into muggle society--”
“Muggle?”
“People who aren’t magic. Anyways, that was the punishment. Having to live with and associate with muggles, far enough away from home that I faced no threat of vigilantism and couldn’t escape.”
“Oh.” Y/N deflated into her seat as it all began to hit her. So that was why Draco was so disgusted with her. There was a reason why some gut feeling told her that he would never see her like....that.
“Anyways, for the less exciting part.” Draco turned to rifle around the jewelry box they’d kept in the guest room. “It’s crucial to the safety of my people that you don’t know about us. Muggles get scared, and sometimes they hurt us. They nearly wiped us out a few generations ago.” 
He turned around, wielding a small wooden cube that glimmered in the light. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I have to do this. If they know you know, they’ll send me away.”
“Do...what?” She stared up at him as he approached, holding the square out in his palms. “Draco, what’s going--”
“I told you I’d take care of it,” he said, his tone pleading. “I’m going to make you forget.”
~
Y/N eyes flickered open. It was chilly in her room--one look confirmed the fact that her window was wide open--but she had a thick blanket pulled over her. As she shed the last pulses of drowsiness, one thought bubbled to the surface: 
That fucker.
She sat up, threw the blankets off her bed, and started towards the guest room.
“Hey,” she said, yanking the door open and standing in front of a very surprised Draco. “Nice try. Are we actually gonna talk this through, or are you gonna put me to sleep again?” 
“Wha-”
“I remember everything, dipshit. Especially the part where you didn’t let me say my piece before you knocked me out.”
“I-”
“Try and steal my memories again and it’s on sight, Draco.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath and finally slumped down onto his bed. “You were saying?”
“How did you...er...you’re not supposed to remember me,” he said. “Do you have any magic blood in your family? Do you know?”
“Look around. If we had magic blood we wouldn’t be living in Ohio.”
“I’m not joking around.” He joined her and laid back. Y/N tried to not make a mental note of how a few strands of his hair brushed up against her cheek for a second. He smelled of peppermint and pine. “There’s no reason why that shouldn’t have worked. You definitely aren’t magic--I can feel it, no offense--and that Obliviation cube was explicitly created to work on muggles and wipe specific memories of magic.”
“I guess I’m just better.”
“Not funny. I’m definitely going to get sent to some random village in...I don’t know, Siberia for this. And your whole family will be obliviated. The whole point of me telling you was so I could get you to understand why I had to wipe your memory.”
“That’s horribly disrespectful, you know. Not even asking for my consent before doing such a thing? Try again.”
“I will,” he said, sitting up and grabbing the cube again. 
Y/N sprung up and scooted away. “Wait! Wait! That was a joke! Can’t we just talk this through? I’m a really good liar.”
“Lying doesn’t matter in front of the Ministry. They have their ways.”
“And what’s the Ministry going to do?” she asked. “Because, right now, it looks like I know about your secret and they’re not knocking down my door yet. Are they seriously going to break into my own home and perform some kind of lie detector test on me out of the blue? Are they really gonna cause a scene like that? No? I didn’t think so.”
Draco looked even paler than usual as he examined her from the other side of the bed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “I hope you’re grasping the severity of this. This isn't a fun little joke. This is the difference between my community living or dying.”
“I get that. But if I say I’m not going to tell anyone, then how is your community at risk?”
“You can’t promise me that.”
“Draco.” Her tone was strong enough to make him snap his head up and meet her eyes. “You saved my life. I’ve lived with you for almost 3 months. Trust me when I say I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Swear on my life.”
The silence was tangible between the two as he stood there staring.
“You have to trust me,” said Y/N. “Please.”
Draco met her eyes again, a type of helplessness written so deeply into the etches of his face that he nearly looked like a different person than the proud, posh British boy that was usually him. “Okay.”
“Okay.” She let out a sigh of relief as he put the cube back into the drawer. 
“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” he told her. “Once I figure out how to fix this, I won’t need to trust you anymore.”
“You’ve been trusting me with your life since the moment you got into a car with me for the first time. Do you have any idea how many teenagers crash on the freeway? I don’t get why this is so different.”
He scowled. “I think it’s very obviously different.”
“I can pull up the stats for you real quick if you want. Just so you can grasp the severity of the situation that you’re minimizing right now.”
“Damn it, Y/N, you don’t understand!” Draco slammed his hands on the dresser, the wood making a loud smack sound as it connected with his palms. She jumped. “All my life I’ve been...You just don’t understand.”
“You have no other option, Draco,” said Y/N. 
“I...I know.”
~
The next few weeks were profoundly uncomfortable. If it wasn’t just for the fact that there had been a burglar turned home invader turned...whatever on the loose, Y/N was now dealing with the fact that her world as she knew it was turning upside down.
Draco was magic. He was different, and while this at first had been difficult for Y/N to believe, she began to realize just how much sense it made. The way the most ordinary of daily objects confused him...his discomfort with using the internet...his distaste for all of the people he met…either he was raised under a legitimate rock or he was telling the truth....
And perhaps the most conclusive revelation regarded his stance on his feelings towards her. After that night at Sylvia’s, Y/N had begun to think that there might be something there, or at least that something there might’ve been possible.
Now she knew that it wasn’t. And she had to be okay with that.
Draco was for the most part normal apart from the fact that his wariness around her was obvious. She could feel him keeping a close eye on her in the halls when she spoke with her friends. Sometimes he’d even level a look in her direction, a clear demand written all over his face: Not a word. You promised.
Evening teas stopped entirely. Draco ate in his room for breakfast and seldom said anything on the rides to and from school, and, to be entirely honest, it helped. She could feel her hopeless crush become weaker as the month of November wore on. Her giddy excitement towards a possible love interest was directed to the nervous dwellings on her UChicago application. 
Results were out on December 3rd, and she was absolutely buzzing. Fuck weird blond boys that came into her life and told her of an entire mystical and magical world out there--the gothic, hallowed architecture of UChicago was waiting for her. 
“Honey, it’s almost 5!” 
“I know.”
Y/N sat, cross legged on her bed, as she looked at the email she’d received moments ago from UChicago. In 3 minutes, the portal would open up. And her fate would be decided.
“Don’t open it yet, your father and I are coming!” Mrs. Y/L/N yelled from the kitchen. 
She smiled--for once, her father had managed to take a night off of work to be there for her. The only person missing in their home was Draco, and she supposed that he didn’t count anymore. At least not in the classic way. 
5:00pm.
“Hold on, hold on.” Her father’s voice carried down the hall, paired with the sound of feet thumping up the stairs.
Her parents appeared in the doorway, rushing to her and peeking over her shoulder.
“Are you ready to open it?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked, placing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. 
“Uh...yes.” Her stomach flipped as she pressed her mouse over the blue hyperlink, directing the screen to show a login page. She wasn’t quite sure what it would look like--perhaps her decision would be right there when she logged in--but despite her racing thoughts, she input her portal information, pressed enter, and squeezed her eyes shut.
Dead silence.
“Honey.”
Her mother’s voice was strife with...some kind of emotion, whatever it was. Y/N dared to pry her eyelids open just a pinch, giving her just enough vision to read out the clear “CONGRATULATIONS” spanning the entirety of her page.
“Oh my god. Oh my god!”
The euphoria that followed was indescribable. Her father’s arms, encircling her shoulders in a way he hadn’t done since she was a child, her mother’s professions of how proud she was...incredible.
The only thing sullying it was a Draco shaped figure looming in the doorway once the hysteria died down.
“What happened?”
“I got into UChicago!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. 
He simply stared at her, his gaze cool and uninterested. Y/N felt all the joy drain from her face. “I hate to butt in, but I have some news too. I’ll be traveling back home for the holidays.”
“Oh.” Irritation was written clear as day across Mrs. Y/L/N’s face. “When will you be leaving?”
“Tomorrow.”
final a/n: heyyyyyy everyone let me know what you thought. what do you guys think will happen next chapter? how do you think this is going to end overall? ik this is a draco x reader but do you guys think that draco still has a ways to go before he can have feelings for y/n? or does he already have them? im inch rested please lmk your thoughts
also my endless apologies to ohioans i did not mean to add the slander in there ik that plenty of you are lovely people <3 cancel me if you wish 
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oksana-moods · 3 years
Text
Ghost of you - Part 1
Summary: This story begins before CAWS and will develop following the movies. Our OFC was being held by Hydra, who is trying to create a new super soldier. She has a past, which will haunt her untill it comes to bite her. Slow burn. Plus, the title is a song from My Chemical Romance and brings a lot of ofc’s point of view; I was inspired by a lot of songs and I’m sure you’ll recognize a few. Trigger warnings: Violence, bad language, angst. If you find any other, I’ll be glad to add.
“And I remember now, at the top of my lungs in my arms she dies At the end of the world, or the last thing I see.”
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Pain.
It’s all void, but pain.
Pain.
It’s like a faint light in the back of my mind telling me to move, but it hurts.
It’s too much.
I feel lightheaded while I slowly drift into consciousness, and it hurts.
Pain.
I become aware that I am laying in the cold ground, I just don’t know where, I can’t remember. I try to turn to the right, but the sharp pain on my left says to me that I broke one rib or two, maybe more. But how?
What am I doing here? Where is here?
I can feel a split on my lip, my cheek has a gash and when I rise my left hand, I see something like a metal glove. Wait. I try to move to have a better look at it…
Pain.
I curse under my breath; my chest is heavy.
I try to look at my hand again. With shaky breath, I realize that I’m not looking at a glove. My whole forearm, from right below my elbow to the tip of my fingers, it’s all made of cold metal. What. The. Fuck??
I gasp. When did this happen? I had two perfect flesh arms, didn’t I?! Why can I remember what happened to me? I lay my head back on the ground and close my eyes. I try to search, but that is nothing to grasp on my mind, I can’t remember a thing. It’s all gone. I take a deep breath and I try harder, try to think of something, anything at all…
And then, like seeing a movie scene from a foggy screen, it’s hard, confusing even, I see a woman. Of course, I don’t know who she is, but it’s something, at least. I’m outside a… bar? A Club? I’m not sure. I am looking at a blond woman, she gives me a wide grin, takes the key from my left hand (oh my, I knew it, is a flesh hand), climbs the motorcycle in front of us. After she turns the engine on, she motions for me to climb as well. Without missing a beat, I am hugging her waist and then we go. Who is this woman? What happened to my arm? To me? I need more answers, I need to dig further, I need more memories. I feel tired, but I push it away. I search, dig throughout the emptiness of my brain…
And here it comes, another flash of foggy memory, will it be the same wo…? Before I could finish, I see myself standing on some sort of park. I’m looking at such pretty little girl wearing a red shirt, her hair is everywhere trying to ride a bike. I feel myself smiling at her. ‘Look at me, I am doing it!’ She laughs and I feel my heart so light at that moment. ‘Yes, you are, sweetie’. I smile back at her as she comes to hug me. ‘Thanks for teaching me, aunt L..’
No. No, no, no, come back. Arg! I needed that information. She was about to say a name. With a grunt I turn to my side, this time it hurts a bit less. Guess I’m getting used to feel like shit. I blink twice, for a moment I think I passed out and started to dream, but no. I’m wide awake. I’m about to grasp a piece of memory in the back of head once again. I close my eyes and there it is… I blink twice. The shades failing in keeping the sun rays out of the room, but I can’t bring myself to care. Just when I turn to my side, a smile creeps itself into my mouth as my eyes land in the goddess laying centimeters away from me. Perfect silk skin, the most beautiful curves my eyes have ever seen. Having her this way, so bare, immaculate even and there’s nothing I wanna do but to stare in awe. Her eyes stir open. They focus on me. Holy, she’s perfect.   ‘Morning...’ She flashes a smile and my heart flutters. She brings her incredible warm hands to touch the military tag resting in my chest. I move my head to kiss her hand that are now touching my cheek. ‘I didn’t know you were wearing my former tag among yours’ She says. I kiss her hands once more before replying ‘That way I can feel you close to me. Close to my heart whenever you’re not around’. The look in her eyes could light up a hole city, priceless, so full of passion and warm and… ‘I lov…’
All I can see is darkness. I’m back to the same place I was before. Instantly missing the warm those memories brought to my chest. I try to go back to that sunny room, but to no avail. I can’t access that memory again as I realize my mind starting to drift off, to go blank. I feel nothing but pain, as darkness embrace me.
 ______________________________________________
I’m jolted awake as the door is burst open by a man wearing black tactical suit. I try to move away, but he takes three steps way too fast. He picks me up by my collar and arm with a deadly grip. Ouch, this is going to leave a bruise. He punches me in the face. Hey, what the hell. Before I can even muster some words, he says: “ready for the next session?” “wha.. what?” “what do you remember, bitch?!” “I…hm. I…  nothing. Who are you?” Another punch, and I feel a crack in my nose. Did this idiot just broke my nose? “Don’t lie to me, woman. What do you remember? Answer me. NOW!” He violently pushes me, so I hit the wall behind me… Suddenly, just like a dream, or a snap, that foggy screen is back. I’m in a doorway, looking at that blond woman again. And God, is she beautiful. She’s wearing a leather jacket that I recognize as my own. I walk towards her, within her personal space. I brush our noses when I see the corner of her lips twitch, ever so slightly, then she pushes me causing my back to hit the wall. She takes two steps. She’s so, so close that I can breathe her breath. My eyes are closed since I’m about to taste…
I’m brought back to reality by being hit square in the face again.
“Stop.” I mutter, now lying on the ground. “Ok. Ok. I remember a... a woman. A blond woman, we are…” I trail off trying to find the correct words. What are we? Who is she? “We are friends. And… And a little girl. That’s all!” I stutter out because that big Glock in his waistband is not friendly at all.
“Aaarg.” He grunts and pick me up again, pushes me to the wall once more, punches me twice and drags me out of the room, or should I say cell? After a few turns through corridors, we arrive in a room, or a lab, with very strange devices and a chair, in which he drops me and ties me, all the while smirking at me. He saw the very confused look in my face, he squats a bit so he can look me dead in the eye. “You are going to break, eventually, woman. I am going to break you. And, in the end, all you will remember is despair. Nothing, but despair.”
I probably lost my mind, or I don’t know, something in his voice made me mad. Made me burn with angry. I totally lost my mind, because I was tied in a crazy chair, in a creepy room, having my ass being beat out of me, but what did I had to lose? All I could feel was this flame in my chest, and boy, it burned. This man could have the upper hand, but I refuse to go down that easy. Next thing I knew, I was spiting blood is his face giving a very blooded grin. I was mad. “I wanna see you try, barf bag. I’m not breakable!”
Of course, his answer was another punch, and my nose did break this time. However, before he could do anything else, the man with a white coat spoke: “Sir, she’s very strong, her memories are very strong. She’s too attached to them. Is hard to erase everything without killing the subject”. Wow, now I became a subject, was this a research facility? Did I volunteer for something? No, not likely. If I had, why would they kick me, punch me and walk around with guns? I’m brought back from my reverie when the ‘doctor/scientist’ speaks again “We could use a different approach, though.” “Which is…” My ‘friend’ in black was losing his patience. I was getting under his skin; I just didn’t know if it was from today or previous encounters. “I think that, since erasing is not working just as it did with the Soldier, we could try to manipulate her memories. Put her through erasing process one more time, and then replay some specific memory, a very painful one a few rounds. It will take time, but I am sure it will be affective. The only memory she’ll have will be one that she’ll beg to forget.” My eyes went wide. I just don’t know what to think. What are these guys doing? And why are they doing it? “Well well, Doctor List, now I know why you are in the payment check.” He turns to face me. “Still think is funny, bitch? You’ll break as it seems.” I spat again, on his feet this time “I will come for you” Oh, I swear I’ll wipe his smug face with my bare hands. He smirked at me “You won’t remember who I am”. He looks at the doctor. “Go on, doc!”
Apparently, this was what the doctor was waiting for. He turned on a few devices and pressed some buttons in the computer whilst I saw and felt some sort of slab, better yet, a helmet closing around in my head. The doctor pressed my cheeks so I’d open my mouth and he could shove a plastic mouthguard inside it. I was about to spat it when he calmly said, “I think is better for you to keep it.”
Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could prepare me for the excruciating pain that I instantly felt when the machine sent electric shock waves to and through my brain, through me.
I must’ve screamed, because I saw the man in black smiling.
Pain. Why are they doing this? I can’t hurt anymore.
Pain.
___________________________________________
I was leaning on the kitchen counter facing the blond woman once again. However, this time I’m feeling a pang in my chest when I look at her eyes. ‘I need to go. This time I think will be longer’. She says and I sigh looking away ‘Then, what are you still doing here?’ It’s her turn to sigh ‘Please, you can’t make me choose between my heart and my responsibilities’. Oh, that line lights a flame inside my heart. ‘I am not. There is nothing to choose. Not now, anyway.’ She throws her hands in the air ‘Why… dammit. Why are you being this cold, this heartless?’ Pain and rage are doing this crazy mix inside me. She has the nerve… Why is she mad? She doesn’t have the right to. She is the one leaving. I grit my teeth ‘Me, I’m being heartless? How long do you think we could keep playing house, pretending… dreaming that I am important, that I’m good enough? You said yourself, you have your responsibilities and there’s nothing I can do. So, forgive me if I am being a bit too cold right now. I’m just trying to protect what’s left from my heart.’ Now, that was a deep cut. But I can’t withdraw my words, if she’s hurting so am I. Right now, she’s standing right next to the door. Hands on the doorknob, but it feels like she’s squeezing my heart. Maybe, because she is. We lock eyes, and all I can see is sadness in those brown pools. ‘It’s not easy for me either, you know’.  She gives me a humorless smile. I had to close my eyes to brace myself for what’s coming next. The final strike, the final hit to shatter the remaining pieces. ‘Guess we are too good at goodbyes, by now’. All I can hear is the door closing and I refuse to open my eyes and face the empty house, the truth. Because opening my eyes is realizing, is to accept the reality. She’s gone. For good this time. She’s right. I am used to goodbyes, way too much for my liking. Pain. I feel some shock waves again in the back of my mind.
Pain.
I have a helmet in my hand and I’m walking towards a chopper. ‘Hey.’ I look up to see the beautiful blond waving and smiling at me. She’s wearing a green flight suit, climbing into some sort of fighter, but this one is different. I smile back ‘Have a nice flight, Cap’, before climbing on my chopper and taking-off. After a few minutes, the radio goes off with the blond’s voice ‘mayday, mayday’. All I can hear is some distress sound. I try to respond but there’s no reply. I look down to the TCAS’s screen and I see her fighter descending way too fast to be good. Tracing a path to where the fighter is headed, I turn the chopper and go as fast as possible. Not long till I see the fighter’s right wing on fire. ‘C’mon C’mon’ I said to myself. I contact the base and tell them to send a medical support to our coordinates, but I can barely hear the response as I watch the aircraft hit the ground in a clearing. My heart drops. When I spot two forms outside the plane, I release a breath that I didn’t know I was holding ‘Son of a bitch, if she isn’t the best pilot’ I laugh to myself. I was flying over the woods, almost reaching their location, relief was washing over me, but was short lived ‘cause I see some sparks near the crash and… ‘NOOOO!’ I shout when an explosion comes from the crash. My heart stops. Truly, stops. It can’t be. No, no, no, no. ‘She can’t be gone’. Then, all I see is white.
Pain.
A helmet in my hand and I’m walking towards a chopper (What? It can’t be). ‘Hey.’ I look up to see the beautiful blond waving and smiling at me. (oh, no. Not again) She’s wearing a green flight suit, climbing into some sort of fighter. ‘Have a nice flight, Cap’ (No, stop. I cannot see it again) I hear ‘mayday, mayday’ And some distress sound. I try to respond but there’s no reply. Not long till I see the fighter’s right wing on fire. I watch the aircraft hit the ground in a clearing. (What is going on?) I see two forms outside the plane. I was almost reaching their location when I spot some sparks near the crash and… (NO. NO, PLEASE. I CAN’T WATCH HER DIE AGAIN) ‘NOOOO!’ (NOO!) I shout when an explosion comes from the crash. ‘She can’t be gone’. And then, white.
This scene, this memory, is being looped in my brain over, and over, and over. I wasn’t counting how many times. I was hurting. My heart was being ripped from my chest over, and over, and over. I was being broken from the inside out.
Pain. And I see her die again, and again, and again.
Pain. And I do nothing, but to scream again, and again, and again.
Pain. And all was left is void.
Pain. And darkness, and despair.
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rainyday-deer · 3 years
Text
I’ve been playing Story of Seasons: Pioneers of Olive Town and I have..... Thoughts™
Some light spoilers.
I can’t call it a bad game, I’m having fun, but it’s not.... Good, either.
The character customization is FANTASTIC, imo. I really like a lot of the options, and the ability to change the color of your individual eyes is pretty neat! I’ve really enjoyed the addition of being able to customize the MC in the newer games, and I’m glad it’s something they’ve kept around (even if the default MCs are rly cute too)
The addition of a moped is neat, though I’ll admit it seems... Superfluous. The horse in previous games was primarily used as a way to get around faster. I understand you have to unlock your moped, but the same goes for the horse, and with the way the game mechanics work, I have my moped back before I have the stable rebuilt, which kind of...Renders the horse moot. Why would I bother to build the stable now and waste fodder/stamina on an animal when I have a moped again?
In terms of the villagers, I can’t say I’m very attached to any of them. I’ve got a small handful that I guess I like but I’m just generally not invested in any of them or their lives.The dialogue is all very samey, and I feel like there’s little variation in what they say to me-- Which is generally a problem in most of the games, but it seems more noticeable here, and almost makes me ache for Save the Homeland’s dialogue style instead.
The voice clips are a nice touch, remind me vaguely of Magical Melody, and I’ll admit it’s a nice little touch. To be frank, the lack of visible talksprites and heart meters being hidden in notes VERY much reminds me of StH or MM, and isn’t necessarily something that bothers me (even if the camera angles get a lil wonky.)
As for how the farm works... I absolutely hate that the makers can only make one item at a time. I hate hate hate that I have several of these damn things lined up on my farm, taking up space, just so I can have the materials I need, and even then I only get ONE AT A TIME! And I need SEVERAL of these items to do anything from upgrading my tools, to expanding my house, to making clothes. In previous games, YES, you had to have certain items to do these things as well, but you (usually) didn’t need to turn ores into ingots first. Lumber was straight up logs that you cut down, and stones were actually useful. But here? HERE?
Cut the tree down. Save the logs. Put 3 logs into a maker. Get one (1) piece of lumber. Repeat ad nauseam.
By the way, there’s at least 5 different types of lumber. And grass. And you need them all for different things! And you need a lot of them for the different things!
There’s 3 mines, which are, frankly, kind of disappointing. The 3rd and largest mine is only 50 floors, and while the addition of the moles make for an... Interesting angle (and fighting off enemies isn’t new at all in certain games) it’s just... Boring. Part of the reason I enjoyed the mines so much in previous games was part of the challenge! It zapped your stamina so easily, and the further down you got, the more exciting it was! But it (personally) feels like there’s no challenge to these mines, and their low variety makes them boring. In reality, you’re only down there to get ores to shove into the ingot makers, so you can progress. (Because remember, these take more than one ore, to make just one (1) ingot!)
Your farm also has various trees and grasses growing over its 3 levels, which is all well and good. However, they crop up and grow VERY fast, including in places you don’t want them to. You have to cover spaces with flooring to stop them from popping up somewhere inconvenient, and even then, they’ll appear where you weren’t ALLOWED to place the flooring. You can’t just sickle the saplings, either. You have to mash those down with a hammer.
Your sickle is ONLY used for cutting the grass, which makes it almost useless in terms of upgrading. You cannot use it on crops, weeds, etc. Just the grass.
There’s also these blue stepping stones across your farm in various places. To my knowledge they cannot be moved or broken, and you cannot till them away, or place anything over them, resulting in wasted space, frankly.
As for the animals, it’s very... Strange? In my opinion. I’m unsure if it’s because of the mode I selected, but the livestock does not NEED to be brushed every day. Rather, when you go to take care of them, the animal will have a small speech bubble over them, indicating what they want at the moment. Your cows and goats will often have a milk icon over their head most days, and only OCCASIONALLY (in my experience) will they want to be brushed. Strangely, you don’t need to buy any tools to do so, either. You interact, they’re milked. You interact, they’re brushed. It’s all very quick, as well.
Also strangely, you have to purchase the ability to breed your chickens, rather than just putting an egg into the incubator.
As for the animal variety... I like it! The goats and the rabbits are very fun additions! And simply finding your animals (and the new varieties) randomly on your farm and then ‘taming’ them is kind of fun, but it does feel like you don’t particularly get a say in if you want to have the new animals in the first place, even if you CAN release animals via the Earth Sprites.
Which, by the way, make me miss the Harvest Sprites, very much. They’re sort of cute, I guess, but ultimately a little boring, if not helpful. Even the Spirit is... Interesting, and beautiful as she is, she’s so. Bland. You can’t really befriend her, just sort of talk to her, but it doesn’t really seem to do much.
I miss you, Harvest Goddess.........
There’s an added museum feature, very similar to animal crossing, but save for the small statues being built of animals you take photos of, it’s just another way to pad out the game, and is very unimpressive to look at.
Crop, meanwhile, are very... Eh, to me. Crops that previously used to be able to be harvested from all season, last 1-3 harvests before disappearing, and then need to be replanted--Including things like tea bushes. Thankfully, the seed makers are a maker that give you 2 seeds out of 1 item-- Though the seed bags only cover 1 tilled square, rather than 9, like in a few previous games.
Your rucksack is also limited in space-- Once again, nothing new, but very frustrating for a game that requires you to have a variety of materials on hold to make XYZ thing. The shipping bin ALSO only holds so many items, and to my knowledge cannot be upgraded. Got 25 items to ship? Sorry! You can only ship 24! Guess you have to wait until tomorrow :)
There’s also only 2 festivals per season, one of which is a mini game, while the other... Is not. It’s kind of a bummer, actually, and I don’t find myself looking forward to them at all.
It’s not all bad, though!
I do enjoy the ability to build sprinklers and let THOSE water your crops for you. It’s very time and stamina saving, and I thoroughly enjoy it.
The variety of crops and wild flowers is nice as well! You can get some crops grown wild, pop those into a seed maker, and then BOOM! You just got strawberries, or melons, or pineapples for free! Nice!
I DO like that your farm has 3 different levels, and unlocking them by fixing bridges is pretty cool, and genuinely feels like it’s been earned when you DO save up enough money (or materials) to unlock them.
The character models look pretty nice, if not a little strange at times. I feel like they can move stiffly in cutscenes, and they have very limited expressions, but they’re still nice to look at. I thoroughly enjoy the happy dance villagers do when you give them a gift they particularly like.
But...
I won’t lie to you guys, but EVERY time I pick up to play (which I’ll admit is a lot, despite my complaints), I find myself wanting to play the older games instead. Now I’ll admit a lot of the newer games could be lacking in particular areas, but there was ALWAYS a lot of enjoyment for me while playing them, so to have this absolute ACHE to dig out my ps2 or my gamecube to play Save the Homeland or Magical Melody INSTEAD is.... Kind of astounding to me.
It’s a fun game to turn your brain off and play, but I don’t think it’s deserving of the price tag-- Even with the new downloadable content on the way (that also costs money, even if you can save some with the expansion pass.). It feels oddly hollow and very... Mobile-game like to me, and while it’s not the WORST game I’ve ever played, it feels like it’s missing a lot of the charm that previous titles have had.
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lala-ladybug · 3 years
Text
Healing Hands: Chapter 4
Yesyesyes I’m super excited to share this one with you guys!! The game is finally beginning, ahhhh!!!!
Jasonette Sword Art Online AU
Read here on AO3
Tag list: @iloontjeboontje
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Chapter 4: Goddamn wimps, all of them
Marinette opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight. She stood in a huge village square filled with hundreds of people, the gaps between them growing smaller as more and more players appeared. The sun shone merrily, and an excited chatter began rising in the air. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It felt good to be back.
“Marinette!” She looked around to see Alya and Nino waving a few yards away. She broke into an excited smile and jogged over to meet them. They must have spawned in relative to their actual locations since Kagami, Luka, and the others from her class were already there.
“Hey guys!” Marinette said breathlessly. “Almost didn’t make it. Thanks for the call, Alya.”
The brunette gave her a quick hug. “Anytime, girl. Now you and Lila can show us the ropes!” She bounced excitedly.
Marinette barely caught herself from rolling her eyes and just nodded instead. Of course Lila would be able to help teach the others how to play. It definitely wouldn’t just be Marinette teaching everybody. Again.
Meanwhile, Max and Nathaniel were remarking on how realistic the textures of the cobbled streets were. Marinette did a double-take when she saw Adrien standing next to them. He had an immensely intricate and ornate suit of armor. There was an excess of spikes, ribbons flowing from every joint, and every inch of him was covered in metal. A tall helmet adorned with skull decals cast a shadow over his grinning face.
“What are you wearing?” She spluttered. He pointed a thumb to his chest with some difficulty, the thick metal creaking with the movement.
“This bad boy is the toughest armor in the game! I may have made a few embellishments of my own, so now I look even cooler.” He stated with pride.
Marinette shot a look at Luka, who wore a light set of simple leathers. He grimaced and shook his head, warning Marinette not to question their friend’s surprisingly atrocious taste in fashion. Or serious misunderstanding of armor weight classes.
“You know you could’ve picked any armor you want, right?” Adrien asked.
“Oh, I know. I crafted this set during beta testing!” Marinette spun around to show the boys, gladly welcoming the change in subject. She was dressed in a light suit of armor, the metal tinted a deep red. Black fabric peeked underneath the gaps, a strong yet flexible design of her own making. A simple grey cloak hung off her shoulders, concealing the quiver behind her back.
While Luka and Adrien complimented her brilliant design, she spotted Lila. She looked a little out of her element, hanging back to awkwardly watch a conversation between Kim, Alix, and Kagami, oddly enough. The three were dressed in heavy sets of armor, lamenting about how there weren’t any monsters to battle yet.
Chloe sauntered over to join them and, having heard how even Kagami was itching for a fight, wrinkled her nose. Marinette giggled to herself. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.
* * *
Jason’s eyes snapped open and he threw out an arm to steady himself. The transition from logging on was dizzying, but the sensation faded with every deep breath he took. He noted the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Damn, even he had to admit this tech was impressive. Dick and Tim stood next to him, wearing blue and red-toned armor respectively. Tim was looking around wildly, grinning like an idiot.
“Timmy!” Cassie Sandsmark sprinted towards them to tackle her boyfriend in a hug. Oh great, looks like the rest of the kiddy patrol was here too. Looking to where Cassie had run from, Jason indeed saw various members of The Team. Connor looked just as nauseated as Jason had felt after joining. Roy stood next to him, unmoving as he stared down at his very realistic-looking hand. Ouch. Jason had to have some sympathy for the poor kid, not that he’d ever tell him that.
Bart and Garfield, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of their lives. Bart got into a running stance and Garfield gleefully jumped into the air, both falling flat on their faces. Jason snorted as he watched Jaime help his boyfriend up. Jaime asked him, “Whoa there ese, what gives?”
Bart shook his head and muttered, “I don’t have my speed.”
Garfield furrowed his brow and strained his face. “You look like you’re either really constipated or trying to shift,” Artemis informed him.
Ignoring her, Garfield locked his panicked eyes with Connor’s. “I can’t shift either, SB.”
“Der kaolc ym nrut,” Zatanna intoned quietly. When nothing happened, she nervously said, “My magic doesn’t work either.”
Jason rolled his eyes. Goddamn wimps, all of them. “Looks like all you supers will have to stoop to our level.”
“Stay whelmed everyone,” Dick stepped in to mitigate half the group’s outrage. “It’s just a game, we don’t exactly need our other skills right now.”
Before they could say anything else, an enormous bell mounted in the center of the town square began to ring. A hush fell over the crowd. The sky darkened as red hexagons interlocked to create a massive dome around the town.
A tall being flickered to life in the air above them. The hooded figure floated high overhead, their face eerily concealed.
“Attention players,” the figure raised their hands. “I welcome you to my world.” Well that didn’t sound ominous, Jason thought to himself. He felt the mood from the others shift into high alert.
“You may call me the Game Master, and I am the only one in control of this world. You may have noticed that the logout button is missing from your main menu.” The figure paused dramatically. “I assure you, this is no defect in the game. It is all as I have designed it to be. You cannot log yourselves out, and no one outside the game will be able to remove you forcibly. If anyone tries to do so, a transmitter inside the VR headset will emit powerful microwaves into your brain that will end your life.” Shit, shit, shit. This was just supposed to be a dumb game he played to make Replacement shut up about it, what the hell?
“Of the 10,000 players, 215 have already died because their family or friends ignored this warning and attempted to remove their headsets. Media outlets have been reporting on this, so it is safe to assume the danger of your headsets being removed has passed.” This guy had to be joking. Though if he wasn’t, Babs would surely research everything within her power to try to remove them safely.
“One other feature of the game is that you are no longer able to revive players. If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will die and the headset will destroy your brain.” Jason’s eyes widened and his head whipped to Dick. He ran a hand through his hair, looking just as horrified as Jason felt.
“The only way for a player to return to the real world is to clear the game. You are currently on Floor 1, the lowest level of the castle. If you make it to the dungeon and defeat the level boss, you may progress to the next level. Defeat the final boss on Floor 100, and you will clear the game.” This motherfucker couldn’t be serious.
The game master, god what a pretentious prick, raised his hands and began to disappear once more. He said, “Good luck, players,” before disappearing entirely. The sky returned to its cheery blue.
 A beat of silence passed before someone started screaming. Then the thousands of players erupted into a cacophony of sound.
* * *
Marinette stood stockstill amidst the chaos. She felt more than heard masses of people panicking around her. Her eyes darted back and forth without truly seeing anything, mind racing to figure out a solution. If there was no way to safely remove the headset, then they’d have to beat the whole game. What about the Kwami? Could they connect with their miraculi? What about the small powers they’d each accumulated over the years? If those were accessible, then they might stand a chance, but god if they weren’t--
A hand on her arm made her snap her head to attention. It was Adrien, his jaw clenched tightly. She gripped his arm in return, the small reassurance barely that. Around her, the new Order looked to their leader for orders, direction. And behind them, her classmates....
Most were white in the face. Max had his hands clenched in his hair and was muttering to himself about the likelihood that the headsets actually could kill them. From the way he was shaking his head, she guessed it was a definite possibility. Lila looked like a cornered animal, twitchy and desperately looking for an escape. Even Kim and Alix wore uncharacteristically serious expressions.
“Well?” Chloe prompted Marinette. The latter took a deep breath. Better focus on solving the smaller problems first. “Your VIP package came with a house on the first floor, right?”
Chloe blinked in surprise. “Yeah, it did,” she replied uncertainly.
“Good.” Marinette whistled and gestured for the rest of her friends to gather around. “Listen up! We don’t know how everyone else is going to react, so it’s best for us to go somewhere safe to lie low for a while. I can teach everyone the gameplay, and we’ll do our best to help beat the game.”
She looked Alya and Nathanial in the eye, since their hands seemed to be shaking the most, and said with all the confidence of Ladybug, “Think of all the bullshit Hawkmoth’s put us through. We are not going to die here. That’s a promise.”
Marinette drew her bow and half-strung an arrow, holding it parallel to the ground. “Chloe has a house on the first level. Let’s go.” She nodded to Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka to establish a perimeter around the rest of the class as they moved. She exhaled a quiet, shaky breath and led the way out of the square.
The crowd did not part easily. People were sobbing, shouting, hyperventilating. They needed to get out fast before the shock wore off.
Someone stood in front of her. The poor soul was probably just as scared as they were. She put her bow back in her inventory, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.
“Excuse me,” Marinette gave a little half-wave to get their attention. “May I please get through?”
“Oh, sorry,” He had a deep, male voice. One hand gestured to the direction she was headed as he stepped out of her path. “Go right ahead.” His hands weren’t shaking as the other crept towards his belt. Not good, not good.
A flash of silver was all the warning she got before Luka pulled her back. A knife collided with his hastily raised shield, shedding sparks as the assailant nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. Marinette dropped down to sweep her leg beneath Luka’s shield, knocking the man off his feet. He gave a shout of surprise as he went down, and Luka disarmed him in the confusion.
“Come on, move it!” Marinette shouted over her shoulder. She re-equipped her bow and surged forward, picking up the pace to get the hell out of there. Such a large group was an easy target, they had to get out of the open and fast. People were starting to react beyond their shock, and more of them were bound to get violent.
Her eyes scanned over the buildings in front of them. There. A momentary break in the throng of players allowed her to spot Slipcut Alley, a favorite shortcut of hers. It was only a few yards away. The alley was too narrow for anything but a single-file line, but it provided cover and was hidden by a spell that only other beta testers would know about. It was their best option.
She squared her shoulders and pushed through the last of the crowd. She turned to face her friends, who gathered around her as they too made it out into the small clearing. Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien were watching the crowd behind them, ready to defend against any other attacks.
Marinette put her bow away one more time and asked, “Do you trust me?”
Shaky nods and wide eyes. That would have to do.
“Then follow me,” she said, and walked straight through the wall before them.
* * *
“Our first step should be finding shelter for the night,” Dick said sharply. “We can figure out the rest tomorrow, but it’ll do us no good if we die tonight.” Tim nodded, ever the protégé.
“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Jason countered. He couldn’t help it if it came out a little accusatory. He did not sign up for a damn death trap.
It was Garfield who had the answer. “Well, in order to do anything, we need money. So we need to start killing some monsters!” He palmed his fist with a resounding smack. “And then we can see about an inn or something.”
Connor rubbed his chin. “That’s not a bad idea, kid.”
“Just tell me where to hit them,” Roy said in a low voice, sounding about as pissed as Jason felt.
“Let’s split into three teams. Alpha squad will be Artemis, Wally, Bart, and myself. Tim, Roy, Gar, and Connor will be Beta. Jason, you’re with Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna for Gamma.” Great, Jason was the only non-super there. What a grand old time that’ll be.
He made to leave the square and disappear into the panicking crowd, but Dick held his arm. “Hey, I’m trusting you to keep them safe,” he kept his voice low. “It’s been a while since they fought without powers, so keep an eye on them.” He then turned to address the rest of the team. “Alpha will take north. Beta, go south and Gamma see what’s west. Meet back here at sunset. Alpha will secure lodging before engaging enemies.”
“What, no pep talk?” Wally elbowed Dick. The latter didn’t crack a smile as he said, “Just stay alive.”
Beside him, Garfield swallowed hard and said weakly, “Noted.”
Jason rolled his eyes and jerked his head in their assigned direction for the other three members of Gamma squad to come with him. He’d follow along as long as Dick made good plans, and Jason didn’t exactly have any better ideas for now.
He put on his very best I know exactly how to kill you and I’ll do it if you don’t get the hell out of my way face and lead the way out of the packed square. The crowd parted easily before him, and they were out on an open street within a matter of minutes.
”Where to first, ese?” Jaime asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Good question. Jason looked around for a map or something that could tell him the way out of the damn town. When he glanced back for a quick headcount and only counted two, he cursed and asked Cassie, “Where the hell is Z?”
She pointed at a nearby stall where the magician was chatting with the vendor. Zatanna waved to them, then sauntered back over to the rest of the team. “The shopkeeper says there’s a bridge further down this street and to the left that’ll take us west out of the town.”
Cassie frowned. “Was that a player with their own shop already? Man, we are behind.”
“Oh, no it was an AI.” Zatanna readily supplied. “An NPC?” She added on seeing the confusion on her companions’ faces. “Honestly, was I the only one to do research on this game before playing it?”
Jaime sheepishly scratched his head while Cassie squeaked, “Well....” Jason had to agree with them, he just did this to keep Replacement happy. And get Dick off his ass, the meddling prick.
Zatanna shook her head. “Look, AI stands for artificial intelligence, and NPC is a non-playable character. They’re computer-generated people, not actual players.”
Jason caught enough to surmise that these NPCs were created by the same maniac that locked them up in here. He crossed his arms and asked, “How the hell can we trust their word if they’re controlled by that fuckin’ game master freak?”
Cassie bit her lip and had the good sense to look concerned.  Zatanna just shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll just have to find out. We can try following their directions but stay cautious in case it’s a trap.”
“Fine,” Jason sighed. “Let’s go.” He was already resigned to the absolute stupidity of the situation anyway.
They made it to the end of the street without incident, and turned where the shopkeeper had directed them to. There was a bridge, spanning a merrily bubbling river, and open fields dotted with trees beyond it. Jason could smell the greenery and apple blossoms from here.
“Wait!” Jaime threw his arm out. He made a face, then sneezed. “Aw man,” he gave a tremendous sniff. “Can’t eben escabe allergies in a video gabe.”
Cassie laughed at her friend and slapped him on the back, which only made him sneeze again. Dumbasses, they didn’t have time for this. Jason rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and walked up to the base of the bridge. He slowly, carefully stepped across and edged his way to the other side.
The other three followed suit, and upon joining him, Zatanna said cheerfully, “Seems like we can trust the NPCs!”
“For now,” Jason muttered, still not convinced. He turned his gaze to the rolling hills before him, warm breezes sending waves that shimmered through the knee-high grass. He didn’t see any monsters, but there had to be some... right?
He used two fingers to swipe the air in front of him, opening his inventory. At least he remembered that much from the tutorial. He equipped the crossbow he’d loaded in when he created his avatar. Damn, that night in the Batcave felt like it was a week ago.
Jason took a wary step forward, into the grass. “Fan out,” he directed the other three. He didn’t turn to watch as he heard them draw their own weapons and creep up to flank him.
A rustle in the grass ahead had him throw a clenched fist into the air to have the others hold their positions. He waited until the movement stilled, then crept forward a few more steps, careful to keep his footsteps silent. He was within feet of it now, whatever it was. He hoisted up his crossbow to brace it on his shoulder and trained it on the last place he’d spotted movement. There was a sharp inhale behind him, and then Jaime sneezed loudly.
The head of a wild boar whipped up and it lunged for Jason. “Shit!” he yelled. Damn kid and his perfect timing. Jason blindly jumped backward and fired a bolt at the same time. It met its target and the boar shattered into glittering dust that resembled pixels. In front of him, a notification popped up that 20 copper coins, the crossbow bolt he’d shot, and a boar tusk had been added to his inventory. Huh, that was surprisingly easy.
“Wow, that was so crash!” Cassie pumped her fists in the air. “This game is gonna be a piece of cake.”
“Not so fast,” Zatanna frowned. “Remember, this is only the first level. It’s bound to be easy. It’s only going to get harder from here.”
Jason turned around to face them. “And just because that little shit was easy to kill doesn’t mean they all will be on this level.” He noticed Jaime hanging back, looking embarrassed.
“Hey kid,” Jason jerked his chin at him. Jaime's head snapped up. “Do you want to try the next one or wait by the bridge until your allergies clear up?”
Jaime opened his mouth to respond but had to sneeze again. “I think I’ll just waid by the bridge. I’b really sorry guys.” He trekked back to where they’d come into the fields.
“And then there were three. Ladies first,” Jason mockingly bowed, gesturing to the open fields beyond where the boar had been. Zatanna smirked and Cassie stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned with a rude gesture.
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tsainami · 5 years
Text
wip prep tag #2
tagged by: @isherwrites​ tysm!! sorry it took this long to get to.
rules: answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.
last time i did this it was for cheat (which you can find here), this time i’ll do grave mercy.
FIRST LOOK
1. describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch).
a girl against a theocracy (but for its religion) and a boy against its religion (but for the theocracy) who have very ? confusing ? backgrounds ? (and are vampires) somehow end up meeting while investigating a cannibalistic angel. they end up doing something ridiculous together: unraveling ‘god.’
2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)
as far as i can see where the plot’s going, probably a trilogy.
3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?
vampires. religious ones! in priestly/nun-ly (not a word) clothing! which comes in mostly white or bright colors because they’re not fans of black vestments. black armor yes, black clothes no. and since there’s vampires, there’s blood. but also gore. and also cults. and devils, angels, monsters, conspiracy! plus a lot of french gothic architecture.
4. What other stories inspire your novel?
book of the ancestor trilogy by mark lawrence. if you’ve read it, it’s probably obvious.
5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel.
i haven’t done any edits for this a whole either rip. it’s not much right now, but here’s its pinterest board.
MAIN CHARACTER
6. Who is your protagonist?
my main protagonist is a girl called ines nenci. she’s a novice at a convent known (or, unknown) to reform young girls whose faith are tainted.
7. Who is their closest ally?
her closest friend is this younger novice named dafne who she constantly worries about and is very protective of. she views dafne as her closest ally, and throughout the story she retains that sentiment. objectively speaking though, it’s probably reuven. after they meet and her fight or flight response when it comes to him calms down lol.
8. Who is their enemy?
the theocracy. namely the ava santi who sits at its head. and also herself.
9. What do they want more than anything?
this is going to sound anticlimactic maybe, but emotional comfort and security. ines really just wants to stop having to be scared all the time. stop having to hold on to anger and allow herself to finally express her hurt and pain after all the years she’s spent oppressing it. she wants to depend on someone and be able to trust them instead of just being the one depended on while in truth she’s just being manipulated. she honestly just. wants. inner peace (lol).
10. Why can’t they have it?
there are many reasons. let’s start with a few minor obstacles in the shape of people who keep her alive solely for the purpose of using her to further their ambitions: 1. the abbess of the convent. this chick keeps ines in her house only to serve as a tool in her plot of overthrowing the theocracy. the convent’s pretty much a facade for this group of heretics to eventually hold some sort of rebellion. but they’re being really dirty about it. 2. the ava santi (aka ye olde pope). he killed her dad. he was also supposed to kill her, but this amazing idea popped up in his brain and he decided “nay, send her to the convent dear men o’mine.” reasons for this is because a) he hates that fucking place and has wanted it dead for years and b) he can’t touch that fucking place because politics and also One Deep and Dark Secret that would cost his position and probs life should it be exposed. 3. the so-called cannibalistic angel she meets, whose reasons for using her are too spoilery to share at the moment. but it’s got something to do with the one ‘god’ of their faith.
11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?
that she’s cursed. it’s repeated a lot in the first chapter, actually. her dad’s death and some of his last words really drilled it in her. and it makes sense, because her existence is scorned by the faith and she learns more and more about this (with the misfortune of having to witness her papa burn ffs as lesson 1 of all things) as she grows up.
12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)
she’s got thick, wavy black hair. pretty long (goes up to mid-back i think) and it’s always braided and then tied up into a low bun. she’s always wearing her habit (which is white) and even if she isn’t she tries to wear something close (usually white too) because it makes her feel secure. she has a black cloak she wears when she goes walking around the capital or the woods (that she really and i mean really knows how to work, especially when she’s killing something so not too much of nasty stuff stains her clothes). usually armed to the teeth. hidden blades everywhere. though you can’t really see that i guess. 
sometimes, she carries a sword.
PLOT POINTS
13. What is the internal conflict?
ines is moroi, which is a race that is treated little better than rabid dogs are in montevena. there aren’t many moroi in existence any more because of wars that involved genocide long ago + the fact that as moroi all you have to do to get sentenced to death sometimes is to accidentally bump into someone. anyway, her internal conflict mostly revolves around her struggle between hating what she is and yet having to depend so heavily on it. she wants to separate herself from being moroi, but that’s impossible since she has to face it everyday. even if people weren’t there to remind her, her body can’t lie. she really, really hates it but there’s no other choice but to live with it.
14. What is the external conflict?
everyone is against the theocracy for their own reasons and the theocracy is against everyone. the teams switch up sometimes though and things get wild when a cannibalistic angel appears and the OG residents of the world, the devil-gods, get weaved into the mayhem (did i mention this takes place in an au hell? because it does).
15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?  
if ines is put through what she went through as a child, having her world break like that (it wasn’t only her dad’s death, it was all the things about the world she was totally clueless about because up until then her dad had limited her knowledge of it, so her whole life was a big fat lie), it would be B A D. the people currently capable of hurting her that way is an older nun from the abbey named sister aura and dafne.
16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?
huge spoilers so i’ll be vague. something monumentally of relevance to not just ines or reuven, but the whole world is a total sham. also if you can believe it or not, aliens are involved (but it totally isn’t what it sounds like lmao).
17. Do you know how it ends?
a little, but not too well right now.
BITS AND BOBS
18. What is the theme?  
there’s an absolute truth to everything. but a lot of the times it gets corrupted by people with ill-bred intentions. that doesn’t mean the truth itself is horrible, though. so it’s always good to discriminate and keep in mind that, just like that guy who yells about global warming but clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about while he goes ‘round the world in private jets that secrete shit tons of shit, sometimes we don’t know everything either.
19. What is a recurring symbol?  
i have no idea. (yet)
20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)
a city-state called montevena which is loosely based off of vatican city but much more french gothic and kinda creepy. later the story moves through parts of canza, one of the three sanctified states that reuven is from.
21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?
yes. predominantly one that occurs in a cave.
22. What excited you about this story?  
the development of the characters. particularly ines, reuven, gabriele, dafne, hazael, mirta and other supporting characters (including the abbess and the ava). it’s just... so interesting. i low-key had a mindfuck about it.
23. Tell us about your usual writing method!  
a copy paste from my previous post on this:
my method is freak out! write a sentence. think about useless things (why would a pigeon be at the city square at night? that doesn't make sense? is it a normal pigeon? what is the purpose of its life?). try not to get distracted (i always do though) and write another sentence. 
the day i’m 92 is the day i finally have two fully written novels with my name plastered all over them in my arms.
TAGGING: @brekkerings @pilipalea @apollchiles (if you guys haven’t done this yet) and anyone else who wants to.
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hookaroo · 6 years
Text
A Captain’s Heart (25 of 33?)
Chapter 1 Chapter 24
Rated T for language and graphic descriptions of injuries.
Also on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12937105/1/A-Captain-s-Heart
Tagging @therooksshiningknight & @killian-whump by request :)
Something had awakened Killian from his less-than-restful slumber, and it took him a long moment to work out what it was. As he blinked up at the sky above, his eyes were automatically drawn toward approaching movement.
“Bloody hell.” He pushed himself stiffly - but successfully - up onto his knees. “Marvel. How did you get up here?”
The human ship climbed the stairs, carrying the blanket off of his bunk and looking both self-satisfied and annoyed. Killian launched himself at the wheel and managed to grab on despite screams of protest from his wrist.
“I figured out how to magically transport myself.” She slowed, watching as he pulled himself to his feet with a snarl of pain.
“That’s impossible,” he wheezed. “Eris said-”
“One cannot use magic to reach the island. Apparently, short distances are allowed.”
Now standing, favoring his fractured ankle, Killian took slow breaths against surging nausea. The short nap had not alleviated his vertigo in the slightest. He focused on the horizon and noticed the volcano skulking into his peripheral vision. Scowling, he adjusted the wheel and nearly toppled over as a result. Marvel crept closer. Killian felt for his hook, but it was nowhere to be found. Damn.
“Please, dear Captain… please stop fighting me. We’re so close, and then we can return home, and you can be with your Emma and forget all of this. Let the gods take care of their own. Please.”
“Stay back, Temptress. I don’t want to hurt you.” Killian tried to center his weight, preparing for a scuffle. But none came. In a flash, Marvel was behind him, drilling magic for which he had no defense into his brain. One final sob of frustration and Killian was out cold again.
No ropes this time. Killian was all ready to celebrate, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t move at all, in fact, except for his eyes. They snapped open just as the traitorous Marvel knelt down beside him, the looming volcano making a frightful backdrop to her apologetic expression.
They were both still on the quarterdeck. Killian reclined against a nest of pillows - probably the whole stash aboard the ship - in the very stern. His head was raised enough to be able to see what was going on, and with a blanket tucked carefully over him, he found he was actually quite comfortable. Apart from breathing, his absolute stillness took much of the strain off the majority of his injuries. They still ached, with an occasional twinge as the curse continued to deepen them, and his back burned from lying directly against it, but that couldn’t be helped. And he was most accustomed to that pain, anyway.
“What’ve you done?” hissed Killian, surprised and relived that he could at least still talk. Marvel brushed some hair back from his forehead, then rested her hand over the swollen bump on his temple.
“I found your stash of squid ink. Actually, technically speaking, it was never hidden in the first place. Not from me.”
Killian was about to reply when the tingle of magic crawled through his scalp. He bit his tongue, wishing desperately to squirm away from the sting. She lacked the practiced finesse of his Swan… but slowly, the swelling subsided and the cut sealed itself. The headache remained, but much abated, and most of the dizziness and fog had lifted. Momentarily, a weary Marvel straightened, her smile placid.
“How is that?”
Killian opened his eyes. “Marvelous.”
A hint of the usual playfulness appeared in her expression, but fled an instant later. “Let me try…”
She put on a solemn frown and moved lower, toward the source of greatest pain and hemorrhage: his abdomen. Her faltering powers flicked aside bandage and shirt, revealing the gash. Now uncontained, blood trickled down his stomach in pulsing spurts entirely in sync with the necessary motions of breathing. Inhale, the gape widened and spewed more blood; exhale, it collapsed on itself and stifled the stream. Marvel did not think twice about placing her hands over the wound, blood and all.
At first, the searing magic seemed to be working. An uncomfortable Killian could feel the damage reversing from the inside out, severed muscle and fascia knitting together before skin began to do likewise. Sweat broke out on Marvel’s forehead as she struggled to direct the unfamiliar ability, to channel it into much-needed assistance for her captain. But just as the pain began to fade… the curse’s invisible knife sliced through the success, tearing and gouging, splitting flesh into a deeper rift than before. Killian groaned a curse as his anguish roared back. The same or worse, it hardly mattered. Mumbling epithets herself, Marvel replaced his bandage.
“I’m sorry, darling. It seems the curse must be broken before healing its effects is possible. I suggest we don’t attempt it again until then.”
Killian winced and closed his eyes in miserable agreement. He had no wish to repeat that excruciating failure anytime soon. Sighing, Marvel got up to return to the helm.
“Please, Marvel,” began Killian, intent on trying one last time. Knowing it was useless. “Don’t do this.”
Predictably, his plea fell on deaf ears. It was then that he realized the volcano had been silent that whole time. Killian swept his gaze over the island: a gentle wisp of steam continued to rise from the summit, but the mountain was still. Free of lava and ash.
Resetting.
Suddenly, Marvel threw out her hands, and the sails were furled in the blink of an eye, the anchor cast over the side with a splash. The ship slowed, trailing the anchor along the sea floor until its weight was enough to stop all momentum.
“This is as close as I dare go,” admitted Marvel, “without knowledge of the seabed surrounding the island.”
“Agreed,” Killian said. “Wouldn’t do to damage your previous incarnation.”
Marvel turned back and studied him for a moment. Her anxious determination was palpable even from the other side of the deck. “Wait here. Rest. I will retrieve the potion and we can be on our way home.”
Killian’s jaw tightened at the thought of her facing the island’s perils alone. “Hold on, love; can we discuss this?”
“There’s nothing to discuss. You’ll never change my mind.”
He sighed. “Then let me come along. I promise not to try and stop you. My only concern would be your protection.”
She watched his face for several heartbeats, as if trying to discern his sincerity. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, my love. Even if you are telling the truth… you can’t be of any assistance until the squid ink wears off. I’ll be fine.”
Frustration and fear weighed heavily on his chest, but there was nothing he could do about it. Swallowing back further protests, he met her gaze squarely. “Be careful.”
She nodded. Then moved closer, crouched, brushed a hand along his tense jaw.
He watched her descend to the main deck, position the rowboat over the side, and climb in. The last he saw of her was the flash of auburn that matched perfectly the accent stripe along the ship’s hull.
Killian gave voice to a string of curses that didn’t do anything to make him feel better. There was a very long wait ahead. And with nothing to do but lie there and let his imagination run wild, that wait was likely to be extremely tense.
He wondered how Marvel would go about finding the potion. According to Eris, the island contained other treasures - who knew what forms those others would take? What if there were more than one potion? Would she have to steal them all? Would Eris, in turn, relieve them of all of Zeus’ magical items and use them for her own nefarious purposes?
Even from this distance, the volcano looked huge. How could Marvel possibly scour the whole thing in less than three hours, not to mention leave them enough time to escape afterward? And, come to think of it, did they even have three hours left? He had, admittedly, delayed their arrival by turning the ship... and had been unconscious for the majority of their overall journey. He had no clue.
The more Killian thought about it, the less he believed in their chances of survival. There was no way. To have had any hope, they should have arrived before the eruption stopped, necessitating a wait so that they could travel with the boundary as it receded.
Well, he had fought all along to prevent Eris from winning. Succumbing to the volcano was one way of assuring that. But he had been hoping that at least Marvel could make it out. To tell the tale, bid farewell for him… to give them all that memorial space they’d had the first time. Now they would never know, never hear, never have.
Killian’s melancholy gradually gave way to anger. In recent years, he had learned to control his propensity toward rage: heroes didn’t let their temper get the best of them. But right now, it was either anger or fear… and so Killian chose anger. He let it surge through him, a boiling wave that scorched with the utter need to move. To tear. To destroy. But yearning muscles were held captive by magic, and Killian lay motionless. Hissing breaths quickened through clenched teeth. And finally, he cut loose with a howl.
“Zeus!! This is your bloody island; I’d wager my remaining hand that you can hear me. Show yourself!”
No response. Killian growled, still straining ineffectually against magical bonds. “Zeus, damn you! Come out, you cowardly bastard!”
To be honest, he wasn’t expecting the god to actually show up. But suddenly, inexplicably, there he was, complete with white robe and serene smile even as he chastised the pirate lying at his feet.
“Killian Jones, that is not how you address an all-powerful being, particularly one who broke all the rules to send you back to the land of the living not three years ago.”
“I couldn't care less about propriety right now,” snarled Killian. It hadn’t taken long for his surprise to dissolve back into wrath. “If I’m to die today as a result of holy tampering, then I deserve some assurances from you.”
Zeus remained calm, amused even, and Killian seethed.
“Such as?”
Killian swallowed. He was making this up as he went along. “First of all, that your wayward subject Eris won’t be allowed to punish the ones I love for my failure.”
“And?”
Scowling, noting that the god had not yet agreed, Killian added,
“That you’ll regain the control you’re meant to have over her. She may lose today, but I can guarantee you she won’t give up. And I don't believe it’s too much for we pathetic mortals to ask that you do your bloody job and keep her in check.”
Killian’s scathing glare was met with aggravating placidity; he could scream with the frustration building within him. And then the god spoke. And his words did nothing to soothe the pirate’s anger.
“So you think you know better than the gods, do you? You see the big picture? You know how all the lines entangle, what will happen when, what’s best for all of mankind?”
“Of course not, but any fool could guess that allowing the goddess of chaos free reign-”
“She has nothing of the sort.”
Killian rolled his eyes; he begged to differ. “At the very least, she will do, when she has in her possession this bloody potion of yours.”
“Have a little faith, Killian. Do you truly think I would make something so dangerous and leave it lying around for her to find?”   
Killian released a huff of annoyance. “So there is no potion? This damn voyage was for naught?”
“No, there is a potion, doing exactly what Eris described. What she doesn’t know is how it will affect her, if she uses it as she intends.”
“Bloody hell,” snapped Killian. “Out with it, then. What will happen?”
“Simply put, the potion prevents any external magic from enacting on the user. She’s correct that her own intrinsic powers would be unaffected. What she doesn’t know, though, is this: the same powerful magic used to create her out of the very entropy she craves is still in play just to keep her in existence. So by consuming the potion…”
“She reverts back to the chaos whence she came.” A shiver of understanding tingled down Killian’s spine as he finished the thought, and his scowl deepened. “So you’ve been in favor of our success all along.”
Zeus merely donned his infuriating smile, and Killian wanted to punch him that much more.
“Damn it, you couldn’t have told us this earlier?”
“I’m a very busy deity, Killian. There’s always one crisis or another. Even now, the best I can offer is verbal guidance; my might is currently occupied elsewhere.” He had the nerve to wink then, raising Killian’s blood pressure into a most unhealthy zone. “Besides, there is a certain amount of free will involved.”
“Like hell there is,” Killian muttered. But he chose to focus on the earlier statement. “All right then. Guidance. What other pearls of belated wisdom would you care to impart? Any advice how to get out of this bloody trap of yours?”
“Sadly, your own counsel is best in that regard.”
“Run like hell?”
With a tolerant nod, Zeus added,
“I’ve ensured that your polymorphous companion has had no trouble finding the potion. She is on her way back as we speak.”
“Tell me truly: do you believe we have a chance?”
“More than any other mortal in your place,” came the less-than-reassuring reply. Followed by, “It won’t be easy, though.”
“And you can’t just magic us to the boundary, or delay the eruption to give us more time?”
“No, as I said: verbal advice only.”
Killian cursed without thought of whose presence he shared; Zeus took it all without blinking. Then he said,    
“One last thing, and then my attention is required elsewhere. Should you choose to use the potion yourself, one mouthful will suffice. But keep in mind the caveat: immunity to magic. The choice is yours. And with that, I bid you good fortune.”
Killian was still hung up on the ‘use the potion on himself’ business; he barely noticed Zeus shimmer into a sunbeam and take his leave.
Immunity to magic. Including… dark magic, presumably. Curses. It would break Eris’ curse. Of course. The goddess had even hinted at such a move. But then… no magical healing? Should his wounds remain, he’d likely be forced to take the long path to recovery. Still, it was a small price to pay to give himself the best chance of surviving all the way home.
Only moments later, Marvel was hoisting the rowboat up to the gunwale, calling excitedly,
“Dearest! My dear! I found the potion, and… and Zeus himself appeared to me! I actually spoke with him, and it was real, I swear it!” She hurdled the rail and paused only briefly to secure the boat, then she was leaping up the stairs toward her captain. “You must believe me!”
“I do, darling; he came to me as well.”
Her grin dazzled against the darkening sky. “Marvelous! So, then, you know that it will do no harm to surrender-”
“Aye, but to have any chance of that, we have to sail as we’ve never sailed before. Cast off quickly, love; turn her about. Full sail.”
Eyes wide, Marvel caught the urgency in his tone and spun to face the rest of the ship. Her magic made quick work of the preparations, and just as a gentle wind pushed against the sails - blowing them toward the volcano until Marvel could complete a turn - a massive explosion sounded deep underground. The earthquake was visible in the dancing of the ocean, uncoordinated choppiness that was unlike tide or windblown wave. Marvel squeaked a gasp and yanked the wheel as hard as she could. Unable to brace himself, Killian closed his eyes and prepared to be tossed against the gunwale in response to the ship’s tight turn. But Marvel somehow had the foresight and concentration to grab hold of him with her magic, and he was prevented further injury.
Just before the volcano was lost from view, Killian saw the first plume of ash burst from its summit, followed by tree-sized rock meteors that plummeted down the sides of the mountain. As they struck the ground, they initiated thundering landslides, which rapidly increased in both velocity and volume. The sight disappeared behind the Jolly Roger’s hull, but Killian knew it was only a matter of time before the displaced earth plunged into the sea and sent enormous waves racing toward them. He couldn’t lie here any longer; he had to be up and helping in whatever small way he could.
“Marvel, the potion!” he called. She risked a terrified glance back at him, and her eyes widened even further at whatever new terrors the volcano was performing. “Now, love! You need my help!”
Frantically, Marvel froze the wheel in place and skidded to Killian’s side, pulling a large crystal phial from her pocket as she went. “What-”
“Bottoms up,” he winked, the swagger only partially successful at masking his own fear. But she understood his meaning and held the vessel to his lips.
The bucking of the ship meant that just as much of the liquid went up his nose and down his chin as into his mouth. Gamely, Killian held his breath until a full mouthful had collected, then swallowed, and only then allowed himself to sputter and spray the burn away. Almost instantly, the squid ink’s hold released; Killian rolled onto his side, gagging and wiping his face while desperately trying to push himself to his feet. Marvel corked and secured the phial.
“Careful, dearest, mind your-”
A deafening roar from their stern drowned out her plea, and both heads turned as one to stare at the plume of fire now spewing forth. Killian grasped the gunwale and heaved, heedless of the ripping sensations in a myriad of wounds tugged by the flailing. Now on his feet, he spun to face the helm. Marvel reached out and gripped his wrist to offer assistance.
Killian gritted his teeth as he limped to the wheel. “Now would be a good time to have my hook back,” he hissed, pain and stress altering his voice into something harsh.
“Done.” Marvel waved her hand, and his brace with hook attached magically affixed itself to his stump. He allowed himself one wince at the new pressure on the bandaged wound, then he took the wheel in hand and hook and pushed the anguish to the back of his mind.
Obviously, the curse’s effects remained, even if the curse itself had been broken.
“Can you magically provide us with some wind?” Killian had to shout to be heard over the continuous rumble from the mountain at their backs. Marvel bit her lip but nodded.
“I’ll try.”
She stretched her hands out toward the sails, and soon, a tentative breeze stirred in that direction, enough of a concerted effort in contrast to the wildly shifting natural air to be a definitive result of her powers. But before either of them could react, the first of the tidal waves buffeted the Jolly Roger, stern first, and both passengers were hurled roughly forward. Killian crashed painfully into the wheel, breath leaving him in a grunt; Marvel went flying and landed on her hands and knees just as they crested the wave. Killian wrapped his left arm around the wheel and held out his hand, calling,
“Hold on!”
Marvel scrambled to her feet. The deck lurched again and she almost fell, but somehow, she managed to stumble back to Killian’s side and grip his hand tightly. She glanced back, grabbed the wheel with her other hand, and yelled,
“Another wave!”
They were jolted again, both clutching desperately to the wheel as the ship tilted one way, then the other.
“I’ll tether us!” cried Marvel. In a flash, she had ropes secured around their waists and attached to the wildly plunging ship. Killian battled the wheel with all his might. He had to keep the waves from striking them broadside, or they might capsize. Marvel held on with one hand, but focused most of her attention on producing the steady wind they needed in order to escape.
Ash continually poured into the sky with such force and speed that it had no trouble outpacing the harried vessel. Looking like murderous storm clouds, the roiling black mass blanketed the afternoon sun. The deck of the ship grew darker with each passing moment. All color drained away until they were left only with shades of heavy gray. The air grew thick and acrid with fine particles; it burned and coated their airways, sending them both into periodic bouts of hacking.
More explosions sounded above the steady roar of the eruption, and soon, the snow of ash was joined by tendrils of ember that stung exposed skin. The dying fires were not quite strong enough to take root among the suffocating layer of ash on their clothing, the wood, the canvas and rope. Not yet, anyway.
After countless trips up and down violent tidal waves, the Jolly Roger settled into the more familiar tossing that accompanied any patch of rough weather. Feeling the heat at his back, Killian risked a glance back at the volcano. It had only increased its fury, spewing lava and lahars right along with the impossible amounts of ash that was starting to obscure the deadly mountain. He caught Marvel watching him uncertainly. Her magic flowed steadily into a stiff wind now assisted by haphazard gusts of displaced mountainside air. Killian flashed a maniacal grin.
“Just like outrunning the curse! Right, love?”
Her answering smile was strained, reserved. “I remember, Captain.”
“Hey! We can do this!” He shuddered through a bout of coughing before adding, “The best ship in all the realms, the best crew a man could ask for…”
“And the best captain,” she added, a bit more brightly. He winked.
“Goes without saying.”
Marvel edged closer to him, still keeping the majority of her focus on the production of lifesaving wind. But she rested a hand over his, where it held the wheel in a death grip.
“We’ll make it, won’t we, Captain?”
“Aye, love. No question: we’re going to make it.”
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