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hopelessromantic5 · 3 months

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I’m in a silly goofy mood. Here’s some merthur crack.

Nimueh is seeking her revenge on Merlin for thwarting her plans.

She sneaks into Camelot, disguised to be hidden among strangers. But to Merlin, she will appear as what his heart most desires.

Thinking it would be a beautiful woman, she lies in wait, until the manservant stumbles upon her and his eyes bug.

“Arthur, what are you doing here?! Uther will have my head if you aren’t in the-“ The manservant stops rambling and stares at Nimueh.

Nimueh, of course, is shocked. This is a plot twist.

The boy still hadn’t looked away from her eyes. Searching for something and coming up short.

“You are not Arthur.” He breathes out.

And before Nimueh can think to act on her ancient sorceress instincts, Merlin has her paralyzed and face up in a turnip cart, covered with potato sacks.

Well this is going splendidly, she thinks to herself, as she rolls to an unknown location.

Not only is the manservant desperately in love with his master, but he’s also got his wits about him enough to know the real thing when he sees it.

At this thought, she pauses. This boy must be someone. He has power and knowing that she’s never seen in a person so young. So mortal.

Eventually the cart stops and she’s tumbling out onto the floor of a very dusty apothecary.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” An older gentleman’s voice comes closer.

“Gaius, look at this and tell me what you see.”

The older man appears in sight, peering at her with a permanent quizzical brow.

“Looks nothing more than a kitchen maid. What is the meaning of this, Merlin? What have you done to the poor girl?”

“Wait, you’re telling me you’re seeing a kitchen maid and not the Prince of Camelot?”

“The Prince of-“ The old man looks to the boy “Have you injured your head today, Merlin?”

“No, Gaius. That’s what I’m telling you. When I came into the court yard after just leaving Arthur with his father, I can promise you I did not expect to see Arthur again, leaning against a wall, suddenly craving a tan.” The boy, Merlin, stares and keeps staring. “I think she’s a witch, or a sorceress.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, the fact that she looks like one person to me and another to everyone else. And…I can feel it. She must be powerful, I can feel the current of energy underneath.”

The old man, ponders for a long minute.

“Do you remember the creature in the water supply? The Afanc?”

Merlin nodded.

“I told you I believed it to be the work of an ancient sorceress names Nimueh.” The woman internally gasps at her own name. “I also feared she had been keeping an eye on her attempts to destroy the Kingdom. It seems now, she knows you are responsible for her plan not taking hold.”

“You mean she did the on purpose? Came here, in broad daylight, to come after me? Dressed as the Prince of Camelot?”

He sounds hysterical. Perhaps it’s affecting his psyche. This image she’s in now.

“That part is strange.” Gaius muses still staring down at her body like it will tell them more. “You said it looked like Arthur in the court yard, how did you know it wasn’t him?”

“I don’t know.” A lie. A terrible lie, followed by his face turning bright red. She could almost laugh at the foolishness of young humans. “I just…did.”

There’s no reply for minutes.

Then Merlin speaks again.

“I say while she’s paralyzed and without her power, we dose her with a truth serum and find out what she’s doing here.”

‘Without her power’? Excuse you?

She’s only now beginning to feel it. Her magic is still there, in her core, but it’s been locked away. Covered in layers and layers of blankets. Blocked by someone else’s will. Someone with more power than they know.

Now she’s really in for it. If only she could learn to let things go.

“And what are we supposed to do if the real Arthur comes looking for you?” Gaius turns in question.

“Just tell him I’m at the tavern, he’ll never make an appearance there if he doesn’t have to.”

“What are you going to do with her when her powers do return?”

“I will wheel her into the forrest tonight. The spell should last us well past morning light.” This time, Merlin speaks to her. “I’m hoping at that point you’ll just go home and rethink your decision on murdering everyone here and destroying the kingdom.”

Then she’s in a chair, tied down with belts. They forced a tiny tube of liquid down her throat. Or more like poured it in, considering she can’t fight back.

And then they sat back on their stools, six feet away, and studied her.

“Speak.” Merlin commands, followed by a flash of golden eyes. Nimueh was beginning to understand that she didn’t have the upper hand here. Not in the slightest. Her centuries of learning are almost nothing against this boy with the magic of the earth inside him.

“That was disgusting.” Are the first words out of her mouth.

“Well it’s not supposed to be a treat.” Merlin spits. “Why are you here?”

The words come out before she can scramble for control to stop them.

“I’m here to switch a goblet in the chambers of Lord Bayard for the cursed chalice in my possession.”

“For what purpose?” Gaius demands.

“To poison the Prince. To start a war that would tear Camelot and her crown to tiny pieces.”

“Explain your appearance. Why isn’t anyone else seeing Arthur?”

“You were correct, Merlin. You were my target. The enchantment transforms me into the deepest desire of your heart. To everyone else, I was nobody, a peasant they wouldn’t waste the time to look over twice.”

The silence in the room after is deafening.

Merlin is staring at her with wide owl eyes, utterly horrified.

Gaius is looking at Merlin, perplexed.

“What- what’d- I don’t-“ comes out in a string of syllables. “That can’t possibly be.” He whimpers and then buried his head in his hands.

Poor boy.

Love is a miserable beast.

#merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #crack fic #from the drafts #Nimueh is lowkey impressed #and pitying

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vinetae · 2 years

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Alice's Game

This is a game.

And you must win.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕!𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛, 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚛!𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎!𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎. 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖! (𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎), 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎.

𝙰/𝚗: 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝙾𝙳; 𝙳𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚄𝙰𝙻 𝚓𝚊𝚒𝚕.

This was a request from a friend of mine, and so I decided to try my hand at yandere things and psycho-killer themes. She's not on Tumblr, but says Hi! <3

Heavily inspired by: @dovechim - Lost In The Funhouse

Go follow them, they're amazing!! <3

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺

:readmore:

Drip

The black molded floor sinks in. The ropes snaked around tightly your limbs, a small tear slipped from your duct.

Drip

It was so perfect. Graduate college, work in the psych ward, settle down in a little town with two or three kids.

Nowhere in the planner had ‘get kidnapped by your own patient’ penned in.

Clicking on your red pumps echo through the long hallway. The stench of cigarettes, drugs, and something not so moral wash over your senses. Down the hall, several doors lock themselves tightly away from any human contact. Protecting the people outside of it, more so than what’s inside.

“Remember, no touching. You get 20 minutes, then you’ll hear the buzzer go off. He’ll be chained to the chair, so you don’t have anything to worry about. We’ve also installed cameras on the entire floor and rooms for the patients’ safety.

Yeah right. You think.

They only take these monsters away because they’re scared. You see, the most notorious, psychopaths and murderers have no fear. From the amount of childhood trauma and mental disorders swirling their brains distracts them from any fear they could have. Neurotypicals such as you had something they could only mirror. Never truly experienced.

Emotion.

The buzzer alarms. You walk inside the dark room, eyes adjusting to the bright fluorescent light hanging above a metal table. You look a little closer, gasping quietly at his appearance.

You dealt with plenty of psychos in your life. Your father had -unfortunately- been one of the many you came to study in your adult-age. Your mother, a narcissistic pathological liar, has been anything but helpful to your own past. As a child, you lived in constant fear. While kids your age had been going to the park to eat ice cream with their parents, yours had been hunting your innocence and soul both mentally and physically. At the ripe age of 9, you’d decided that you wouldn’t take their shit anymore.

Maturity didn’t make you grow up fast.

It was fear.

Fear of waking up with your father standing over your bed, knife in hand as blood trickled down the sheen of metal. Heavy grunts and heaves exile his chest. His crusted beard and shattered glasses hang his expressions.

Only, he had no emotion.

You figured that out very quickly on your 5th birthday. As curious children wander, you had two makeshift barbies in hand. Your colored two ponytails your half-sober mother had lazily put up when she had been in a good mood. The old wooden creaked open as you fell back on your behind.

Father had been yelling at your mother -as per usual- about something and something. Most of your childhood had been extremely vague. Later on, you found out from your psychology class that the brain subconscious avoids pain of any kind. Your brain had blocked the horrid memories. Only allowing you to remember certain things when it thought you could handle it.

That’s why you’d joked between your colleagues that your brain had been your parent.

The door creaked open, revealing the rotting stench of what had seemed to be deer and rabbits. You fell to the floor, silently crying out for the animals your father had mutilated.

That wasn’t even the worst part.

You glance over, sniffling as your child-like innocence sets itself on a blood-shot red table. Obviously the smell is emitting from that more than anything. You scooted a chair over to get a closer look, screaming as your eyes set on the mutilated, poked, prodded, and bloodied human limbs.

A head stares back at you, laid lifelessly on the table. The eyes had been gouged out, while flesh had been ripped off. A ear lays next to your arm. Stitched with some kind of black thread, then ripped apart once more. Anything you’d seen in your teen years on horror movies had nothing against this.

Boots clack against the old wooden floors.

“Doctor? Are you alright?” The guard’s firm but caring tone pulls you from the horrid thoughts. You nod, embarrassingly pushing your black frame glasses higher up to the bridge of your nose, preparing to get to the bottom of what made this man tick.

“Are you ready?” He asks, as you nod once more.

The buzzer sounds.

His dry grin creeps the corner of his lips.

“Well hello, pretty thing.”

You chuckle at the silly nickname, keeping your professional stance as you take a seat in the chair across from his. You take notice of his situation. A white straight jacket wraps his built figure. Black, greasy locks fall effortlessly in front of his intimidating eyes. The fluorescent light brightens up his skin even more, every freckle and mole visible on his porcelain like skin.

You’d seen a lot of mediocre good-looking patients but they had nothing on this man.

Pulling your professional mask back on, you flip through his papers, glancing between the two.

Cherry red lips..

“Kim Namjoon.” You read.

A well built frame. Muscles as big as your whole head-

“No need for formalities, darling.” he leans closer, staring you down through his luscious eyelashes.

“It’s just Namjoon, sweets.” He leans back, a bored expression plays on his face.

You chuckle, flipping through more of his paperwork they’d provided you days beforehand. Of course you’d skimmed through it, but you want to make this at least a bit more comfortable without having to look in his enticing chocolate irises.

_____________________________________________________________

Case #: 2918 Page: 9

Date: June 2nd, 2019.

Last Name: Kim First Name: Namjoon Middle: -none-

Race: Asian.

DOB: Sep 12th, 1994.

Details of case: Genocide, use of illegal drugs, Man slaughter, homicide.

Weapon(s) involved: C13H16CINO - Ketamine usage. Dimethoxyethane (DME) usage.

Habits of patient: Grinding teeth, untimely laughing fits, manipulation, gaslighting,-

_____________________________________________________________

One word has caught your attention.

Persuasion.

He chuckles at your facial expression. You cleared your throat, focusing your attention back onto the subject.

“You have quite the resume, Mr. Kim” He chuckles, leaning against the metal chair’s back end. A glimmer of curiosity peaks his irises.

“Only the best for you, Doc.” You chuckle, shaking your head softly at the teases. You reach into your pocket, sliding the recording device across the table to land between you two. You click your pen, glancing at his bored expression.

“Any time, Mister Kim.”

Once the session's finished, you start to pack your belongings, making sure the recording device is safely tucked beteen you leather breifcase pouch.

"See you later, Little Alice." He replies, watching as you pack more of your things into what small leather briefcase you'd been carrying around. You nod, still having a weird feeling in the pit of your stomache.

"Can I help you?" You ask quietly. He lets out a dark chuckle.

"More than you know, Doll." You roll your eyes, before turning back to face him.

"My name's not Alice, by the way." He hums, leaning against the back of his chair.

"I'm aware, Miss Y/n".

How'd he know your name? It's not like you wear a nametag.

He stands, stalking over to your figure.

He chuckles at your cuteness.

You stand your ground, fixing your posture to seem big.

It didn't work.

No amount of heels could ever make you feel equal to this man. Not only was he one of the most notorious serial killers, he was freakishly tall.

You words catch in the back of your throat.

"Why did you call me Alice, then?"

He smirks, doing a one-over on your whole body.

"Because," He steps closer. If it hadn't been for the straight jacket, he'd have you up against the wall, screaming for him to fuck you by now.

"You like sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

You huff at his harsh tone.

"And why doesn't my nose belong here?"

He smirks, leaning to the side of your cheek, his hot breath dances lightly on the skin of your lobe.

"Because this is not a place for purity, darling."

You huff.

"I am not purity, Kim." He smiles, walking back over to the chair he'd originally been sat in.

"And I'm not a psycho-killer." He watches as the pink creeps up your face like a child trying to make it past their parents bedroom on Christmas day.

Grabbing the rest of your things, you both hear the buzzing of the door, watching as it opens to reveal two men here to escort you out.

"See you tomorrow." You call back, while making your way out of the room.

This, was going to be fun.

The buzzer sounds once more. The same routine you’d adjusted to for around a week now. Every day, you’d come into the asylum to check on Namjoon. Sadly, you had only gotten so far as learning what you’d already known. His name, family (or lack of), favorite ways to torture his victims, etc. You’d gotten nowhere, and your deadline was this month. You had to figure out some way of helping him open up.

Your white pencil skirt creeps up the length of your legs every step you take. Thankfully, you’d chosen to wear black shorts under the skirt as always. The black silk button-up you’d picked from a thrift store lays lazily against your risen bosom. The small accentuates of jewelry decorate your typical appearance.

You walk into the room you’d now referred to as being your ‘office’ mainly because of how many times you'd been here instead of actually being at corp. You noticing as they bring in Namjoon. The straight jacket still wound tightly around his figure. He plops down harshly on the metal chair, the straps lock his limbs down firmly. Once the guard shuts the door behind him, Namjoon glances through his thick eyebrows to your delicate looking figure. The simple gold necklace eases the hard look of your thick black glasses. A small chuckle escapes his chest.

“What are those for?” You motion to his forearm, noticing a large incision about the size of a pencil spayed heavily on the surface of his forearm. Dried blood clings to the wound.

“Why so many questions?” You mentally roll your eyes at his comment. You lean forward, the dip of your shirt peaking just enough to give him an accidental taste of what he couldn’t touch.

“Mister Kim, I’m trying to help you.” He scoffs, looking off into the distance to the corner behind you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need your help.” You offer a small grin, to which he barely returns.

More, Y/n. Come on..

You lean forward some more, now giving him a full display of the dips of your laced breasts on full display for his viewing pleasure.

“Listen. You’re right. You don’t need my help. But,” Your so close to proximity, that you can feel both lines of breath starting to mix. A dangerous concoction indeed.

“You want it.”

To that, he chuckles at your ignorance.

“No, Alice, dear.” He leans forward to meet your own posture.

“You want it.” He leans back, enjoying the view you’re still providing.

“Sweet, innocent girl. So,” His lips are so close to yours. Your breath staggers in pitch at his closeness. You’re seducing a serial killer. How fucked up is that?

“Very,” His smirk plasters his face before banging his forehead into yours.

“Foolish.”

“Fuck!” You curse.

His words are harsh, you fall backwards, holding the bruised spot starting to welt. You pierce his gaze, a crazy look remains in his gleam.

The guards come rushing in to restrain him, as they escort you out. His voice rings through the dark room, reminding you of everything you tried to forget.

“Might as well just crawl back to daddy if you really wanna study a psychopath, darling!”

Jimin sighs, cleaning the gash around your forehead.

“That fucker” He mumbles, cursing under his breath as your mind’s too busy with reenacting the scene. Looking for something to use against him.

“I’m gunna fucking kill him!” He groans, lightly applying the bandage to your gash. You wince, but not from the pain. It had been nothing compared to what your father put you through.

“It’s fine, Jimin.” He scoffs at your obvious lie.

“Of course it’s not fine, Y/n! That piece of shit fucking gashed your head! You should be lucky he was in that straight jacket. Who knows what he could’ve done with his sick mind!?” You place your hand on his shoulder, hopping off the table to keep your balance.

“It’s okay, really. All in a job’s work.” He rolls his eyes, handing you a small cup of water. You take it from his grasp, immediately quenching your thirst. Throwing the cup into the garbage, you make your way back over to the cafeteria of the prison.

You’d been escorted to the main level. There were four floors.

1st held all of the common criminals. Pickpockets, thiefs, people with unpaid parking tickets, druggies and more.

Second level is for the more mediocre criminals along with the cafeteria and indoor gym for the workers.

Third, held people like small murderers and interogation rooms.

The fourth floor had batshit crazies, people with the same charges as Ted Bundy, Dhamer, Lopez, and Shipman.

Along with Kim.

You groan in frustration, throwing the papers across your small apartment’s space. The anger you felt had manifested from this case, along with the news that your father had escaped his death sentence, and broken out of the ward he’d been kept in; about 100 miles from where you had moved.

His laugh echoed through your head. Flashes from when he’d gashed you in that interrogation room earlier fills your senses. Screams, cries, yells reverberate off the walls of your mind.

A mix of Namjoon’s and your father’s voice screams in your head.

You’ll never be normal.

You’re not worthy.

You’re the product of a serial killer.

Shut up..

You know it’s true, Y/n. Deep down,

You always have.

“SHUT UP!!”

You pick up the glass bottle, throwing it against the wall. The blood-shot red liquid stains your creme white walls. Shards of glass fall to the oak wooden floors. Soaking in all of the pain. Frustration.

Emotion.

Day 13.

What an unlucky number. The bags under your eyes alert everyone around you of your restless night. You’d tossed and turned all through the night. Images of your father beating your mother, pictures you’d gone to therapy for 5 years to try to rid yourself of. His evil laugh rips through your fears.

Living in constant fear for your life is not the ideal thought to have right before you sleep.

In the end, you’d decide to google anything and everything about this ‘kim Namjoon’ person.

Six hours later, and you practically had been left at a dead end.

Family of four. Brother went hysterical, falling into the coping of drugs. Sentenced to sex years for sex trafficking and overdosing/torturing victims.

You laugh hysterically.

I guess torture runs in the family.

Mother - Neighbours said the family had always been weird. Hauling in animals left and right, even when it hadn’t been hunting season. Mother had always been cooking something in the backyard. Neighbors complained of ghastly and grotesque smells coming from Kim's estate. Police searched, but had come up empty handed. Soon, father went on a killing spree. A total of 16 lives were lost to the hands of Namjoon’s father.

Something had caught your eye.

When investigated, authorities found descriptive and eerie pictures of a disgusting family dinner. Authorities took 8 months to identify the victims. Finally, they had been concluded.

A total of 5 bodies - 4 girls and one boy - all around to be 16-21 - had been consumed.

Your body hunches forward, your lunch threatening to spill from your stomach. Bile comes creeping up your throat.

He had been a cannibal.

It was so much worse than you thought..

You make your way back into the room, a patient Namjoon is placed in his usual spot. His creeping smile repulses you. You take your seat, preparing the session.

This time, you were going to catch him.

The assignment you’d been hired for had been altered.

“Find some evidence good enough to put him on immediate death row.”

Seeing this bastard’s head chopped off gave you some sick kind of feeling in the pit of your stomach. Watching as it rolls around, after being freshly severed gives you a sense of relief.

And something that should not be there in a time like this…

His chocolate brown eyes swirl your figure.

“Good morning, Alice.” He fakes a smile, as do you.

This is a game.

And you must win.

A smile creeps his face. His black locks frame his face like framing of the Mona Lisa.

You had to admit, he was gorgeous.

“Good morning, Kim.” He faints a cheap taken back expression from your harsh words.

“Damn baby, thought after all these dates we’d already have first names in the vocabulary.” You chuckle, clicking your pen to write the date down on your spreadsheet.

“These aren’t dates.” He smiles, watching as you pen in the date and time.

“Mmm, You sure dress like it is.”

You glance down to your outfit. The Wine-stained two piece pantsuit accentuates your hips. The white blouse teasingly pops out between your cropped blazer. The gold necklace you’d previously worn, adorns the thin curves down the front of your chest.

You can hear his chest heave a short groan at your outfit choice.

You looked like absolute fucking sin.

“Mmm, You look good in red.” He leans forward, the straight jacket having been discarded for ‘good behavior’ from last week. Anything to get to touch your porcelain-soft looking features. To have you writhing under his touches. To corrupt your innocence you hide behind the insecurity like a masked confidence.

He could read you like a book.

A newspaper, even.

You’re filled with stories for him every day.

Your eyes follow his lead meeting in the middle. You notice the write cotton sweatpants wrapped around his thick thighs. The white-ish cream colored monochrome tones match his top. A long sleeve cotton shirt with lack of strings of any kind. Precautions of suicide, you learned in college.

“So, tell me.” You lean forward, resting your hands atop the desk, placing the point of your chin in the dips of your palms.

“Anything, Dear.” He flashes a genuine looking smile.

Impossible.

He’s just mirroring my own expressions.

Psychopaths can’t feel actual emotions.

So, why does it look genuine?

“Tell me about your family.” He chuckles.

He glances to the walls surrounding the two of you, sighing out of boredom.

“Well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere anyways.” He leans up, placing his forearms on the cool metal table, mimicking your stance.

“What’d you like to know, princess?”

You flip through your folder.

‘Wow I feel so special. My own folder~” You tilt his head to the side, trying to get a better look at your features to remember for later, but to anyone else it’d just seem like he’s in his own head, acting crazy.

Like he is.

“Tell me about the wonderful feasts you had.” His expression falls cold. He leans back, demeanor switching completely.

“Get out.” He torts, but you don’t budge.

“Come on. Why did yo-”

“I said get the fuck out!” He yells, as the two guards come rushing in, pulling you away from the metal table.

Once he sees that you’re gone, he quickly grabs the folder, stuffing it quickly into the belt area of his pants before being dragged out of the interrogation room.

Once back in his cell, it’d already been time to rest. His body lays against the cool mattress, shuffling around he finds a comfortable position. On the bright side of being in the top 10 notorious murderers, they deemed him too insane to share a room with anyone else.

He pulls the thin covers over his head, making sure the red light from the camera in the top corner of his room turns completely off, before the camera sinks back to it’s ‘off’ position. He only gets the non camera luxury because the past few years he’d built up somewhat good connections with the guards. They didn’t like him, but tolerated him more than some of the other inmates.

It also helped to be in the commission business here.

The guards always have to be checked for any type of drug or weapon that they could sneak into the facility, which meant taking away their pleasure supply. And to be working in a stuffy, cold, dark and -let’s face it- anything but clean place, it was hard to find the kind of things people were into. Thankfully, Marc, Namjoon’s neighboring door down had a plentiful supply of eroticisms that weren’t even allowed -outside- of the facility.

Namjoon flips through the papers, having a difficult time reading your chicken scratch. He scoffs at your poor penmanship.

“A three year old could write better than this.” He rolls his eyes, scanning over the meaningless words such as ‘The Kim family had always been strange and introverted.’ ‘Tied to their house’

Blah blah blah.

He already knows that.

He lived it.

One line caught his eye.

“Lee Y/n.”

He chuckles.

You’d left your profile in the case file.

He flips through the pages, studying over the content while biting into the apple he’d been given as a token for being a quote ‘good noodle’.

This good noodle was gonna rip out that guard’s small intestine and use it as a fucking belt if he ever said shit like that again.

He flips through the folder, watching as more information pops up to his enjoyment.

____________________________________________________________

Name: Lee Y/n

Age: 25

Occupation: Criminal Psychology and Justice Studies.

Level of Education: Dual-Enrolled all of highschool, Straight A student, Volunteered at psych clinics for 2+ years. Studied at Carnegy another 4 years.

Hobbies: Reading, History, Criminal studies, Karate, Ju-jitsu.

_____________________________________________________________

Another section of the folder catches his eye.

_____________________________________________________________

Background Screening Results - 2019

Relatives: No

Recommendations: 3+

Notes: Father convicted of 6 murders, one being his own 4 year old son, Grayson. Currently resides;

Westwood Mental Institution (2017).

Mother clinically diagnosed with DSM - Schizophrenia, Generalized anxiety, and depression. Currently resides and recovering in Livingston, Montana.

_____________________________________________________________

So crazy runs in your family too, huh?

Your low wedges plank across the hardened concrete floors. The off-white colored pencil dress you’d chosen to wear sways along with the sing songy tone of your hips.

“Morning, Miss Y/n!” Catherine calls from the front desk.

“Morning, Cathay!” You walk past the guards, already knowing the routine. They don’t even need to check you anymore. -Though, they sometimes still do-

You make your way to the room, laying your small briefcase on the metal table, preparing for today’s session. The cold walls block any kind of kind thoughts you have.

Something was off.

Soon, the thick mental door opens, revealing Namjoon.

By himself..

You stand, wondering where the guards had gone.

Sirens whirl off in the distance.

“Hello, My Alice.”

You’re confused. Had one of the prisoners tried to escape? It wasn’t until Namjoon grabs you by the arm, gripping tightly, making his way through the corridor. The guards stop him about 20 feet in front. Guns and flashlights shine and gleam on the both of you. Namjoon sighs, rolling his eyes before quickly pulling a gun to your head.

“Easy boys. Don’t want a lawsuit on your hands” Namjoon’s plastered smirk sends chills down your spine.

“Come on Namjoon, leave the girl alone.” One of the guards eases his way towards the both of you, still keeping a distance that Namjoon would prefer. He pretends to ponder for a moment, but a blood-curdling look smears his face.

“How about… No.” He aims the gun towards the guard, ducking down to save his own life.

“See? You don’t really care about her.” Namjoon’s eyes crane to look down at your motionless frame.

“Not like I do.”

Just then, a large explosion goes off in the distance. Namjoon’s grasp on your figure never seems to falter as he bends down, shielding you from the glass shards shattering through the air.

‘Perfect timing, my friend.” He claps his free hand toward a strange looking man, before hauling you up onto his shoulder, making his way out of the blown through wall.

‘You’re insane!” You yell. A harsh slap to your ass is applied, along with a shushed tone telling you to be quiet.

“No, No baby.” He sets your figure down, ripping a length of cloth from his shirt to tie snuggly around your hands.

“We both are.” He caresses the side of your cheek, before you hit his hand backwards, spitting on his face. The anger was clear as day upon his face.

“Wrong choice, baby.” He reaches into his pocket, revealing a plastic covered syringe.

No.

NO!!

“Namjoon please- Please just let me go and I can help you!” You beg, but it’s no use. He flicks the needle, before running a hand through your locks, shushing your shivering figure.

“Shh, Shhh. It’s okay baby.” His lips meet the crown of your forehead, kissing softly. The sounds of guns firing in the background doesn’t help one bit.

“Namjoon- Y-you don’t need to do this! Please!” you tried to scoot as far away from his as possible, but his strong biceps held you in place against the metal pole just outside the view of the asylum.

“This could’ve been different if you had just listened to me.” He sighs, nearing the needle towards the skin of your neck.

“Namjoon! Please!” you’re practically screaming this time. His free hand comes to cup the palm of his hand against your mouth.

“Shhh, darling. Be a good girl for me.” A sharp pain rips through your neck. Everything begins to fade in and out. The last thing you see is his disgusting face plastered with a clown-like grin.

Evil.

Pure, evil.

“My little Alice.”

©sweethearthigh 2022. Do not copy, translate, or modify my works with given consent from me.

#kim namjoon x you #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #kim namjoon fic #bts yandere #yandere!namjoon #psychological bts thriller #kim namjoon #namjoon #Emotion #sweehearthighwritings #yandere #psycho killer #psycho!namjoon #bts imagines #bts angst

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filibuster-obstructa · 4 months

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brainstorming/reminder fer me if i ever want to do a voidpet nuzlocke:

normal nuzlocke rules retained: name every pet, if it gets to 0 health it dies. im thinking that potions/food/trinkets can be used in the open, and dungeons already facilitate the "no healing items" rule by default. angel diaries are allowed but like. no one has those in droves

added way to get attached, you must accessorize each pet. i have no idea if this will be effective but i think it will be funny.

the goal is to get through every dungeon (without going over the level cap)

said level cap would probably be the either the smallest or largest (might depend on how hardcore one wants to make it) level provided by the dungeon descriptions, with the exception of aura caves (and maybe psyche plains?), whose level cap should probably be half the maximum level in the desc. because well. no one's beating a dungeon with level 1 pets

encounters: one is allowed one encounter per setting/backround. like, you get to catch one pet in the Institute Entrance, one pet in Snake Road Institute Rock, etc. in this way, you can sort of decide which pet to choose (and maybe compare thetotals while you're at it) but the choice still relies mostly on chance

i think shiny clause is a thing in that if you happen upon a setting for the first time and one of them is a vivid, you must catch that one

the flip side of that is that every time you see a vivid, you have to catch it, but vivid rates are fairly high so i don't think that will be fun

there can be a happy medium where maybe this applies only to mythical or absurd vivds

in this way seeing red is banned for encounters, you can still probably grind in it though

other encounters and non-encounters:

duplicating is not an encounter, and will probably only be useful for grinding.

the first gluttonies that you spawn near the dumpster are one extra encounter.

If an event is spawned by volo's donation of someone catching or releasing an absurd vivid, you get one more encounter in the hometown area, even if you've caught a judgement/grumpy there already. However, all of these events only count as an encounter once (example: a glee event happens, and you catch one glee. if a glee event happens again, you do not get another encounter

the something park trails are an encounter on their own, but even if the species rotates, you do not get new encounters, so you'll probably want to see which species is on rotation before going there

trading is not an encounter

seasonal appearences (like merry? i think?) aren't grounds for a new encounter

the first abandonment/abandonment group one releases counts as one encounter

other extra challenges may include: beating annabelle at a certain level cap (im saying 40 at most), having to beat any of the snake road bosses if you see them no matter what level you're at (which probably just locks snake road for a while), if you get a demon diary you have to use it, etc

that's probably it. the way i see it now it is as much a strategy to play well with powerful pets as it is to maxmize one's encounters, like putting a legendary object in the dumpster, or releasing many pets at once for abandoments

#voidpet #voidpets

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ezra-iolite · 7 months

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Swiftwire: Updated Appearance

..... She really needed a fresh new look, due to all the shit she's gone through, and just generally smooth out the rough edges of her lore, which I'll do as part of a full bio later, since it's gonna be a long post.... So I'll just do her main details here for the sake of putting only what's important here. XD But also JUST LOOK AT HER!!! 😭 SHE'S SO BEAUTIFUL!!

This was done by the amazingly talented and legendary Torrent/torrentarts on Tik Tok!! So if you ever see this, THANK YOU AGAIN, HONEY!! >w<

(Also a version of her without her kanga/scarf, her flags or her earring~)

Swiftwire Asya Zahara Mutheru of the Maasai Tribe

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Her story is still generally the same, but just added a few tweaks to make her blend in better with a more canon aligned world (i.e; Earthspark and a little bit of IDW/Lost Light), but I'll reveal it at a later time, once it's fully fleshed out.

~*~

In short.... Swift is still a former human (originally named Asya Mutheru) that was turned into a Cybertronian, doing so by having her body digested by the Energon within a Cybertronian protoform's hollow spark, burning away her corpse to pluck her soul out and turn it into the spark that brought Swiftwire to life, all thanks to her birth father, Jeremy Omari.

~*~

Personality wise, Swift is still as maternal, goofy, vain but kind, and as flirtatious as ever, and is generally the "Mom Friend with gremlin energy" within any group she finds herself a part of.

~*~

Deep inside her psyche, however.... the monster that Swift's body was supposed to become is still alive.... He's just taking the backseat instead of dominating and controlling the body fully like Swift is now. This is purely because Asya was supposed to die and pass on when her human body became the cadaver powering her spark... But instead, her soul took over and changed the Cybertronian husk into her new body, one that became female presenting instead of male.

~*~

That monster is Talos, a Beastformer designed by Jeremy to take on the appearance of a blue Minotaur Spartan Hoplite soldier in the form of a manmade Transformer.

~*~

Talos's presence is still inside Swift, and only truly comes out when she is angry and starts to "see red". That saying, in her case, is literal, as her eyes change and her jaw elongates to show who is slowly taking over her (as seen in the image above Swift~).

This change is known as 10% Corruption Mode, where Talos takes over only a small part of her and dominates only her face and her instincts. The more of her body that changes, the more the "corruption" reaches 100%. When it reaches that mark, Swift will no longer be in the driver seat of her own body and mind, and both will then be fully under Talos's control.

~*~

Talos and Swift are like Jekyll and Hyde, but instead of them simply sharing a mind, Swift and Talos are both Transformers with their own root and alt-modes, existing in the same body. Talos has his main form (the Spartan Hoplite) and his Beast alt mode (the Minotaur), while Swift has her main form/root mode and her jet alt mode. So Swift isn't really a Triple or a Quadruple-Changer.... Talos exists within her with his own root mode body that takes over Swift's, and her jet form becomes the Minotaur form he transforms into.

~*~

When Talos takes over Swift's body, her frame colour changes from glittery orange to a dark midnight blue, starting from the head and bleeding down her body. It is a painful process each time, as it feels like she is being ripped apart from the inside out, especially when she tries to keep Talos locked inside, but before this happens, the first two things that change are her eyes and her jaw, the 10% Corruption stage....

~*~

Her eyes are always the first to change before the colour of her frame switches. Usually, they are blue with black sclera, and white slit pupils that were once round, before Talos first emerged and forced her to change. They remain slit to this day as a remnant of his presence within her, and so when he emerges.... They turn from white to red. The blue of her irises then vanish into the sea of black of her sclera, making her pupils the only thing that stand out in her eyes, and show that Talos has now taken over her mind.

~*~

The next to change is her face.... Her cheeks bear a line across them that is another permanent remnant of Talos's influence, and so that line opens and forcibly stretches and exposes the metal muscles and sinew that connects her jaw to her skull, but it doesn't damage her jaw or skin in any way. Her cheeks heal every time she returns to normal.

~*~

If the changes progress any further from here and reaches above 40% Corruption, then Swift will be locked inside herself and Talos will fully front without any further resistance, and assume full control over the body. If Swift does manage to resist and stop Talos before reaching 40%, then she can regain control and revert back to her own body.

~*~

If not..... Then her body will fully turn blue, her Seeker form becomes masculine and beefier, and Talos will then stand in his full, armored, Spartan Hoplite form with split-hoof bipedal legs, Swift's dreadlocks now forming the iconic mohawk of his helmet (also turned black and blue in hue) and her wings flat and fused together to act like a cape, with Talos's split-mouthed face hidden in his helmet, as the body now presents itself as his.

~*~

As his Minotaur Beast alt-mode..... The wings and dreadlocks are packed away, and his upper body becomes that of a bull with long, curved horns pointed forwards, a thick silver ring in his snout, and his maw still filled with fangs and his arms bearing Swift's claws... Which become blacker and travel further up her arms the more she allows Talos to take over.

The only way to bring Swift back is to knock Talos unconscious.

~*~

It should also be noted that Swift's height is 17 feet... Talos's main/Spartan form is 25 feet tall, while his Minotaur form is roughly 22 feet. (All using Earthspark heights for comparison)

Also..... This is his voice claim.... Everything he says is canon to what Talos is like and how he speaks to Swift in their shared headspace~

#ezra iolite og work #torrentarts #Swiftwire #Talos the Spartan

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survivoirs · 3 months

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Distraction was an interesting concept. There were times when everything Ed did was to find a way to distract himself from his ever-growing boredom. Boredom was a very dangerous thing for someone like Nigma. It caused him to act rash. Make mistakes. Hastily planned jobs that nearly got himself killed or arrested. Then there was the danger of outside distractions clouding his brain, affecting his focus, his already fragile at times psyche. The letter in his inner vest pocket felt like it was burning a hole in his chest. Unopened, despite receiving it three or four days ago, the envelope appeared like it have been hastily crumpled up before being carefully flattened back out. In fact that was exactly what had happened, with being thrown away in between. No, I am not going to read it. I don't care. It's going in the bin where it belongs. He'd told the Girls as he'd dramatically made a show of crumpling and tossing the mail away. It was only after they'd let him be after he'd told them he'd needed space that Edward decided against tossing it. Only to retrieve it and carry it around on his person every waking moment like a ball and shackle.

Riddle me this. How did he find me ? !

Query & Echo hadn't seen him in person since then. And not for lack of trying. As far as they could tell, Eddie hadn't returned to any of the usual spots. Not his penthouse. None of the hideouts. They'd even checked Arkham and the GCPD to make sure he'd not done something stupid and gotten himself locked up again. None of the Rogues knew where he was at either. Two-Face was pretty pissed off because Ed was supposed to show up for a shared job yesterday and had been a total no-show without so much as a text.

The Riddler had been 'spotted' hanging around the Gotham Museum of Art yesterday and when he returned today, one of the curators had called the police. The nervousness of the woman had completely gone past Edward's awareness as he sat on a bench in front of the same painting as the day before. No, he wasn't casing the joint as the woman had whispered over the phone to the police. To be fair, the painting he was fixated on was worth quite a lot of money. A piece from a local Gotham artist who had gotten a lot of deserved recognition over the last few years. In fact, this painting had only been loaned to the museum less than six months ago. It was one of Edward's favorite pieces of art.

"What's green, red, and goes round and round? What's green, red, and goes round and round? What's green-" Edward sat there, mumbling one of his favorites again and again to himself softly.

It wasn't until the lights turned off, that Edward was made aware of anything amiss. Even then, it took him a moment to realize that Batman had appeared behind him. Nigma looked like he was a bit out of it when he turned his head to glance over his shoulder, like he wasn't entirely present in the moment. Nor did he entirely look like his usual well put together self. He looked exhausted. Face wasn't clean shaven, hair completely un-styled, suit a bit disheveled. Not even wearing a damn tie anymore, he wasn't quite sure where that had ended up. He'd loosened it when he'd started feeling overstimulated.

"Frog in a blen--I mean wha--what are you doing here?" Nigma demanded, not even realizing his body had moved. Swiveling around on the back-less bench to stand, he still somehow didn't seem at full height. Yes, Batman in his suit always made the Riddler look small but Eddie's posture wasn't oozing with his usual arrogance and pride. His shoulders were hunched, arms crossed over his chest in a self-soothing manner that provided an unconscious barrier between him and everything else as well. Long fingers tapped rhythmically against his upper arm where the opposite hand was gripping. It was only then that, with the darkness, he was able to notice the flashing red and blue coming from outside through the windows, flashing against the walls around them. Edward winced like it was too harsh for him right now and -- not quite anger -- but irritability welled up inside him.

"What are they doing here? I - I," Edward stammered and he shifted to start pacing before he felt the hero's gloved hand brace him on the shoulder. The movement had been telegraphed enough that it didn't feel like a painful jolt but what he hadn't expected was for it to feel grounding for once. The hold wasn't constricting, he could pull away if he wanted to, but it was firm and heavy. Much like how Edward's arms around himself tightened to apply more deep, consistent pressure. "I--I didn't do anything," Edward started to plead defensively before he felt the other man's grip squeeze lightly to garner his attention.

'Are you feeling alright?'

"No. I'm not. Next bloody question," he answered abruptly, not even bothering to hide the truth within a riddle. "Riddle me this, Batman. When is a ghost not a ghost¿?" Nigma threw his hands up a bit before his fingers curled tightly into his dark hair in frustration. "What's a riddle when I don't know the answer? When I don't know the answer. Me. ME. I don't have the bloody answers. I don't know. I just don't know and it's killing me," Edward whined weakly behind hands rubbing at his face. @bruz3r

#dissociation cw #overstimulation cw #IM SORRY THIS GOT LONG #begging you to not actually match LOL #riddler threads #rp #flashing cw

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i-amsoup · 4 months

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Does anyone here watch ace attorney objection. Lol edits on YouTube? I’ve got one stuck in my head and I can’t find it anywhere. It was one where Phoenix lent someone his magatama and they tried cheering him up by making him say “I’m Phoenix wright and I’m okay!” But then like twelve psych locks and a black and red one appear and the scream fades to black. I know it exists but i literally can not find it anywhere

#soup stuff #ace attorney #question

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katy-kt-katie · 2 years

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Diana at the Gunmen’s

Fictober Day 24

What if Diana took Gibson’s scans to the gunmen instead of Scully, in “The End”

Tried to keep the critical dialogue on the same topics (when Scully asked about Diana in ep, I had Diana ask about her in this fic…had same gunman answering with similar details)

CW: Diana POV

********

“I have to disappear for a bit,” Scully said, entering the hall of the Psych Hospital.

Diana sensed Scully was on to something and wanted to know what it was, so she feigned niceness, “Agent Scully, you are doing so much,” she smiled. “Let me help you. Where are you headed?”

“Oh, I…”

“Let me help you,” Diana reassured, putting a comforting hand on the little red head’s shoulder.

“I was going to take Gibson’s scans to a few of Mulder’s friends. I can take care of it.”

“The Gunmen?”

“Yeah,” Scully turned to study her. “I guess you may know them from when you worked with Mulder before.”

“Of course. Are they still at the same little shack just West of Downtown.”

“Yep,” Scully nodded. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll take the scans. You stay with Gibson. He likes you the best anyway. He actually told me that,” Diana said. It was true, Gibson saw right through to Diana’s hidden agenda.

“Okay, I guess.” Scully said, handing the scans to Diana.

**********

Diana rang the buzzer; waited and then rang it again.

“Okay, hang on,” a familiar voice said over an intercom, “I’m coming.”

“Is somebody going to let me in?” Diana said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…coming, coming,” the voice said.

Diana heard about seven locks click and was then greeted by Melvin Frohike who looked exactly the same as he had about a decade ago.

“Diana Fowley? It’s been…”

“A long time. Hi Melvin.”

“Sorry, you caught me getting ready for bed,” he teased as he stood in his pajamas. “Come in.”

“Thank you.”

“So…you are back?” Frohike said.

Byers and Langly made their way into the main room, after hearing someone at the door.

“Diana Fowley?” Byers said.

“Yes. Hi John,” she nodded and then turned and nodded again, “Richard.”

“I need you guys to help Agent Mulder and I by looking at these brain scans. Analyze the data.”

“Okay, we can help, but you said you are working with Agent Mulder?” Frohike said, placing the brain scans on an illuminated table.

“Of course,” Diana replied.

The three men looked at each other confused.

Byers giggled nervously, “What about Agent Scully?”

“Agent Scully?” Diana repeated, sighing.

“Yes,” Langly said, defensively.

It appeared this woman, Agent Scully, had admirers in Mulder’s friends too. Diana thought she ought to show interest in her if she hoped to have the Gunmen help her.

“Yes, of course. Agent Scully is helping too.”

Diana reached and flicked the light switch off behind the illuminated brain scans. “First, I want you guys to tell me about Agent Scully…since she is new at the FBI since I was last in Washington.”

“Scully?” Byers said and continued. “Mulder talks about her all the time.”

“So, you know her?” Diana asked.

“Yeah. She comes over with him a lot,” Byers continued.

Frohike jumped in, “She’s been Mulder’s partner now for,” he paused, clearly thinking, “almost six years. She’s incredibly smart and very beautiful.”

“They seem to be very close…” Diana said.

“She was there when the X Files were taken from him; never left his side; has saved his life several times. And she has an undergraduate degree in physics and is a medical doctor.” Langly said.

“He was there for her recently when she had a significant health scare. I always wondered why they haven’t gotten together, they are clearly in love.” Byers said.

Langly nodded in agreement.

“I still think they are already doing it…just don’t want people to know.” Frohike added, and winked at Diana.

Flustered, Diana shrugged and turned the switch to illuminate the scans. Her assignment: to get Mulder to choose his biological father and the Syndicate, was going to be much harder than she bargained for.

“Well why don’t you boys see what you can find on the scans and let me know,” she said. Leaving before they could see anymore of her frustration.

#the x files #the lone gunmen #dana scully #diana fowley #fox mulder #gibson praise #fictober22 #msr #the end

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sundaystudios · 4 months

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There are moments when life doesn’t feel real, and in those moments you don’t either. It is an unbearable feeling you cannot even soothe with the merciful oblivion of the mind which sleep provides. You haven’t slept properly for a long time, and you know tonight will be no different.

Blue Hour is a short story IF about self discovery and a struggle with insomnia, two people meeting and spending the night together, letting the world fall away and dreams blend with reality. It’s about existing in the time between the waking and sleeping world, when the trenches and troubles of everyday life feels like an eternity away, and one’s identity becomes like soft clay yet again, able to be molded into something entirely new come morning.

It is about you, a stranger and the ocean, ever-changing with the tide and the rocking waves. Who are you when no one is looking and judging?

Demo TBA

Choose who you are: gender, sex, appearance etc

Experience the simple beauty of human relations as they appear outside societal standards and expectations

Choose the nature of your relation to the stranger, and experience the story and character change on the basis of this

Dive into the psyche of both yourself, the stranger and a sea mammal

Feel the sand on the beach between your toes and head for a swim in the void of the dark ocean at night

Exist

The Stranger takes on the identity of two characters who appear respectfully depending on your choice of occupation.

The Upperclassman - Isidore/Isidora

The eccentric although dispassionate person you for some reason often find yourself in the company of during the small hours of the day. They like to pretend they know better than you—that your nightly walks and conversations are indirectly steered by them—but you know they get as lost as you when the streetlights thin out and you get far enough from the city.

They have brown skin with a dusting of dark freckles and black locks frame their face. Their downturned grey eyes sit under a pair of thick eyebrows.

The Colleague - Maria/Mars

The friendly although reserved person who through a shared addiction to escapism has become your new means of distraction during the long hours of the night you’d otherwise spend fidgeting in your apartment. Their reasons are still unknown to you and it bothers you whenever they deflect with that apologetic smile they always give you.

They have olive skin tanned by the sun, a red flush across their cheeks from time spent outside. Their hair is bleached and straight and their almond eyes are brown.

Hello Im working on Blue Hour to train my writing skill, familiarise myself with the mechanics of publishing a game, and explore thought in the form of literature before diving into my enormous passion project. Thank you for showing interest :))

#choice of games #interactive fiction #writing #author #blue hour #wip #short story #literature #choice script #upcoming if #blue hour if

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circle-around-again · 5 months

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The Wrath of Darth Maul by Ryder Windham. Notes & Quotes

Chapter 1.

This catalogue will present interesting quotes, running themes, headcanons, and an exploration of Maul's experiences. Feel free to browse or use at your leisure. Spoilers ahead.

[scene: maul in his childhood bedroom].

"He could see only the top of his head, which had multiple small horns. Like the rest of his body, his head was distinguished by red and black patterns. His eyes were bright yellow with small black pupils. The first time he had seen his reflection, he had been startled, because he had thought he was seeing another person." (6).

Obligatory world-building: at this age (approximately 3) Maul already has a set of horns, his tattoos, and yellow eyes. This passage begins the mirroring theme that will continue through the novel. Maul projects all wishes of safety and freedom on to his double.

"Maul jumped up so that he could see more of his thin body reflected in the window. He jumped again and again, fascinated by his leaping reflection as well as the sound of his bare feet smacking against the metal floor." (7).

This is a repetitive motion for Maul, even to the point of feeling pain and exhaustion. One interpretation is that this is the result of a lack of stimulation (as he is near-permanently locked in this room). Another is that this is Maul stimming. He is retreating to an internal, happy and safe world categorised by rhythmic sights, sounds and motions. Now, if Maul is truly stimming here, then he will have lost the ability to stim like this after Naboo. One loss among many.

Obligatory world-building: it is revealed that Maul's room has 1. A Window 2. A Metal, Locked Door 3. A Water Fountain 4. A Doggy Door Where Food, Mostly Raw Meat, is Deposited 5. A Security Camera and Speaker

HC: There is no bed. All surfaces are described to be metal. It is as if his bedroom is simply a solitary confinement cell.

Obligatory world-building: Maul is exercised using chimes from speakers in his room. He is told to run, do sit-ups, leg-lifts and push-ups using both one and two hands. He is 3.

"Made of shiny black metal, the droid had a bulbous head with five red mechanical eyes called photoreceptors and a mesh-grille vocabulator for speaking, and a cylindrical torso that held four long, jointed pincers for arms. The torso rested on a swivel-hinged abdomen that had six spiderlike legs." (9).

A description of the droid, D9, that acts as Maul's nurse, trainer, prison guard and substitute mother. HC: I believe that her spider-like appearance heavily influenced Maul's psyche, to the point that, years later, he would subconsciously adopt it in his mechanical form.

Obligatory world-building: At this point, Maul receives all food and medical treatment from this droid. He is "sprayed" with "antiseptic cleansers," which sounds as if his version of a shower is getting hosed down (9). He does not leave unless he is escorted out for exercise.

"Once, the droid had delivered a bright green and yellow snake that wasted no time in attacking Maul, sinking its venomous fangs deep into the boy's arm. ... Maul had not been able to resist taking several large bites of the dead snake... [T]he droid had returned with medicine, bandages, and a stomach pump." (9-10).

This event references an Ouroborous; the snake that eats its own tail. Perhaps this dance of two refers to the Sith, perhaps it is the poison of using the dark side. Or, perhaps it is Sidious simply teaching Maul that nothing is safe and predictable, not even a door opening.

"He was barely three years old." (11).

Age: This line is the beginning of my attempted map of Maul's age. It is confirmed that Maul is as young as three when he begins life in this facility.

[scene transition: Maul is tranquilised by the droid, and is taken to the Sith chambers of Mustafar].

"At the chamber's center, an enormous orb of transparent greenish blue liquid, nearly two meters in diameter, was suspended in the air above a circular dining table. Dozens of small, multicolored aquatic creatures swam within the orb..." (14).

Note: Palpatine likes to ponder his orbs, I see. This, of course, mirrors the famous opera scene in Revenge of the Sith. Perhaps the bright ball symbolises the allure of power and possibility. Perhaps, as will be developed further in the novel, the victim is likened to a pet-fish-to-be.

The Dark Side: the fish swim away as Sidious approaches. This is a cool side-effect of using dark side power.

"You may have been born on the planet Iridonia, but you came to my attention on another world, Dathomir." (17).

Note: Mace Windu in The Clone Wars also briefly references Maul being born on Iridonia. It is confirmed, as far as I know, that he was born on Dathomir. This is likely an error. Or, perhaps, Sidious is lying.

"From Maul's point of view, the orb distorted Sidious's head and upper body." (18).

HC: I wonder if this makes Sidious look like Plagueis. If so, this scene not only becomes linked to Anakin's indoctrination into the Sith, but Palpatine's own. This scene continues the Bane Line, from Master to Apprentice.

"'If I didn't know better, I'd say those two were pretending to be us. If they were, I wonder where that would leave the rest.' Maul... saw them begin to jerk and spasm." (19).

And so begins the link between Maul and Sidious, and the grey and red fish.

"Master Sidious... is it possible... to learn this power?" (20).

Note: this is a reference to Anakin's own quote in Revenge of the Sith. The continuing parallels to Anakin's own grooming and fall are becoming comedic.

#The Wrath of Darth Maul #Notes & Quotes #Chapter 1 #my analysis #my hcs

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invisibleraven · 1 year

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When skies are gray

Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: sunshine

On AO3!

Okay, so I am going to be playing a little fast and loose with the Eros/Psyche myth here, so if you are a Classics major, please don't come for me.

Warning for one blink and you miss it suicidal ideation

Aphrodite was known far and wide as the goddess of beauty, and it was a blessing just to gaze upon her. However, she was also a vain, jealous creature who did not take kindly to insult. So when word reaches her ear that the Lord and Lady Melina had a daughter that rivalled her beauty, who had suitors her that gave the girl tribute meant for the goddess herself-she saw red.

“Eros!” she called for her son, the god of love, and gave him a sly smile as he appeared.

Eros was a comely looking youth, despite being millennia old. Dark silky locks that flowed with the wind. Pale skin dusted with golden freckles mimicking the colour of ichor that ran through his veins. Eyes that resembled the colour of spring, a pale greenish blue that were always filled with merriment. And a constant grin that could make the most reticent partner offer their heart.

“Yes mother?”

“I’ve a job for you.”

Inwardly Eros groaned. His mother never gave him a job to do unless it suited her whims, and it often meant nothing good for the mortals involved. But she also held power over him that he had no mettle to refuse, a curse as such, that she could manipulate to meet her twisted needs.

So when she ordered him to go make a young girl fall for a frightful, smelly beast of a man, he didn’t question it. Simply grabbed his arrows, and set off. Thanking the others gods that requests such as this were rare.

He cloaked himself in invisibility as he approached the Molina estate. Took in the verdant grounds, and the lone figure there. She was idly stroking a lazy dog, carrying on a conversation with it as if it would respond. Her voice was musical and light, and it drew Eros closer.

He always was a sucker for people who were kind to animals, and he wanted to look upon the creature he was cursing before doing so.

Only he froze when he gazed upon her. This girl was a beauty. Gentle curves reminiscent of a marble statue, skin that reminded him of the sweetest cocoa, curls that were wild and bouncy, eyes warm as a fire, and a smile that captured his heart in a moment.

Eros could no more damn this girl to a miserable life tied to a beast then he could his dearest friend Hermes. Nor could he take watching her fall for another.

But his mother would know if he didn’t shoot an arrow. She always did. Then a truly crazy idea came upon him. He withdrew the arrow from his quiver, and sucked in a breath before plunging it into his own chest. Eyes never leaving the beauty before him as he did, and a sudden warm feeling filled him. The burgeoning attraction he felt before multiplied a hundred fold, and a plan formed to ensure he saved his love and also made her his.

He knew his mother had some soothsayer or another coming to foretell the girl's marriage, her sacrifice to save the land. Aphrodite wasn’t one to suffer fools, and knew the Molinas would never accept their daughter being in love with a monster-would appeal to her or another minor deity. If it was fated that the girl could benefit the land through her marriage, well, then there was little they could do. So he watched and waited.

“Julie,” her father called.

Julie. Has another name ever sounded so sweet? It made him think of music, a sweet tune he had learned on the lyre that had always stuck with him. He mouthed it to himself, a prayer for her to one day return his feelings.

He wished he could stay and watch her father deliver the news. Would she weep and wail? Try to bargain? Or would she be brave, face her fate as the stalwart soul he gleaned she was?

But Eros could feel his mother pulling him back, and he silently blew Julie a kiss, letting the zephyrs carry it to her. His last image of her was a touch to her cheek, a wondrous look, and then she was gone.

“Is it done?”

“Have I ever failed you before?”

“What beast did you set upon her?”

Eros thought quickly. “She is to be sacrificed as a bride to the creature of horror and stench who resides in a crater nearby. She’ll be led there blindfolded.”

“Go make sure that it is the first thing she sets eyes upon then before you tend to your other duties,” Aphrodite said with a dismissive wave, and for once Eros was glad to do her bidding.

He flashed back to the Molina estate where Julie was being fitted with her wedding finery. Her face was understandably dour, despite the gorgeous dress and jewels that bedecked her. Her hair was threaded with purple dahlias, and gosh she made a beautiful bride.

She was led to the high mountaintop, her family tearfully embracing her before they left, none able to bear seeing her carried away. Julie gazed down upon the crater below and momentarily wondered if it would make any difference if she jumped. But before the thought could fully form, gentle winds picked her up, and whisked her away. She shut her eyes, terrified at the descent, but when she opened them again, she was in a fragrant flower field.

“Hello?” she called.

“Follow us,” the winds whispered, pushing her along. “Your groom awaits.”

Eros stood waiting for Julie inside the small temple he had erected here. She would be there any second, and he would explain his subterfuge to her then. Pray that she would still have him as her husband. If not, she was free to leave, return home, or stay here, no matter how it would pulverize his heart.

Only then he felt his mother’s call, and he cursed. Not now! But he was powerless to resist, and poofed to her dwelling.

“You foolish boy!” she screamed, throwing an urn at him, which he barely dodged. “What have you done?”

“Saved a girl from your jealousy and cruelty,” he said, standing tall. “I love her, and I will see no harm come to her.”

“You do not love her, you ignorant boy, I know you used your arrow! It won’t last on you, the ichor in your veins is already breaking it down,” Aphrodite sneered.

“Regardless, I will marry her. I will come to love her, I am sure of it.”

“She will not love you back,” his mother taunted. “Not when she learns who you are. Our kind are notorious for being unfaithful, that’s why no mortal takes up with us. Plus with her being mortal…”

“Then I shall grant her ambrosia, some way or another,” Eros said firmly. “If she comes to love me, I will appeal to Zeus himself for it if I must.”

“You’ll do it with no help from me,” his mother warned. “And I state here and now, I curse you. If your bride lays one eye upon you before the first year of your marriage is up, or you tell her who you really are, then you will be mine, and she will be left to find you. See how worthy she is of that ambrosia.”

“No!” Eros protested.

“Good luck my darling son,” Aphrodite said with a wave, slowly fading from view. “You shall need it.”

Eros found himself back in the temple, sweating and panicked. What was he to do? He could see Julie approaching, and with a wave, he doused every lantern and candle, leaving the room swimming in darkness. The zephyrs would guide her, and he had to hope that he could somehow make this work.

“Hello?” Julie called as the winds led her through the pitch black hall.

“Hello my love,” a voice said. It was sweet as nectar, and for some reason, it calmed Julie.

“Why is it so dark?” she questioned.

“We cannot see one another, lest you run in fright,” the voice said. “But I promise, no harm will come to you here. You are free to explore and enjoy whatever leisure you wish.”

“Just not that of your image?”

“I’m afraid not my sweet.”

“May I have a name at the very least?”

“Reginald,” Eros said. It was a name he had used prior when hiding amongst the humans, one he had come to like. “Reggie, if you wish.”

“Reggie,” Julie breathed out, feeling his hands take hers. She felt no scales, no fur, no claws. Just soft human flesh. With callouses befitting an archer, and she wondered if he was a good bowman. “Then we are to be married?”

“Yes Julie, we are. But not if you do not wish for it.”

“Will it keep my family safe?”

Eros-Reggie now he supposed thought about it. He was certainly going to try, keep his mother’s harm far from here. “As safe as they can be,” he vowed.

“Then I accept.”

The zephyrs wound a golden cord around their wrists, tying their lives together, speaking the vows that would bind them. They drank from a provided chalice of wine, and he could even feel a begrudged blessing from his mother-if only for his sake, he supposed. He brought Julie’s face into his, stealing a quick kiss.

Julie expected to shudder at the kiss, but felt only plush lips, no nipping fangs or bristly hairs. So she kissed back. Even if her husband turned out to be the ugliest of men, she had to make the best of it-for herself, for her land, for her family.

They walked in darkness to a chamber, and Julie felt herself be left to attend to her finery. A small lantern provided just enough light to undress by, and she slipped under the covers, blowing the flame out at the knock on the door. “Enter.”

“I just wished to say good night,” Reggie said. “Wish you sweet dreams.”

“You are not going to lie with me?” she asked.

“No Julie,” he said. “Not until you love me like I do you. It would not feel right.”

“You cannot love me, you do not know me!” she yelled.

Suddenly there was a weight on the bed, and a hand clutching hers. “I have seen you, though you may not know it. Your beauty, your kindness, your willingness to put others before yourself. That has made me love you, without knowing all the depths of your soul. I will learn those in time, as I hope you will know mine. Until then, I will not lay with you until you ask it of me.”

Then there was a gentle kiss to her forehead. He moved to rise, but Julie caught his wrist in her hand. “Wait,” she insisted. “Tell me about yourself, let me learn who I married.”

So Reggie sat, and smiled to himself when her hand slid into his. And began to talk, though the details were slightly skewed. He claimed to be a matchmaker, helping those find love that needed it. Of his love of poetry, music, fine foods. Of his best friend, though Hermes always got referred to by the human name he often chose, Lukas. Of his overbearing, controlling mother and long absent father.

Julie in turn told him of her life, of her friends Flynn and Carrie who she adored like sisters. Of baking with her father, singing with her mother, dancing with her aunt, playing foolish games with her younger brother. Of the books she had read detailing places she would never visit.

“One day, perhaps we can travel,” Reggie offered. “See all the world over a hundred times until there is nothing left to discover.”

“We would need a thousand lifetimes to do that,” Julie giggled. “But the chance would be nice.”

They talked until their throats grew sore, their eyes heavy, and Julie was yawning more than responding. Reggie granted her another kiss to the forehead. “Sleep, my wife. We will talk again tomorrow night.”

Julie found herself smiling, despite herself, and dozed off before Reggie even left the room.

The days and weeks that followed were much the same. Julie spent her days exploring the small island they lived on. Swimming in the pools, delighting at the wildlife, smelling the flowers. She read book upon book in the library, made music wherever she chose and ate whatever her heart desired. The zephyrs provided her with whatever she could ask for, even down to conversation. More often than not, the topic turned to Reggie, but the invisible servants said nothing but nice things about their master. And slowly, Julie started to agree.

Reggie would come each night, sit beside her, and they would talk. Learning every facet of each other. Sometimes she would lay her head on his lap as he recited poetry, others they would sing together, with Reggie playing upon his lyre.

And Julie found that she was starting to fall for her husband.

He would always leave her before dawn, with a gentle kiss to her forehead, or her temple. Wish her sweet dreams, but he never stayed.

Julie wanted him to stay, to become his in every way that mattered. So one night, when he went to kiss her goodnight, she pulled his face to his, and kissed him properly. He startled a little, then gladly sunk into the kiss, letting her pull him to the bed.

“Julie, you must be sure,” he panted against her lips as she pushed the clothing from his form as best she could blind.

“I have never been more sure of anything, I promise,” she said, embracing him tightly. He groaned and gladly embraced her back, making them man and wife finally.

Later, Julie’s toes were still tingling, and Reggie’s heart was still racing under her ear. She gazed up, despite not being able to see and smiled. His body felt like that of a normal man-not that she had felt any prior to this, but the principle stood. She used her fingers to trace his features; the slight upturn of his nose, the bow of his lips, the neat brows over his eyes, everything felt human.

“Will you still not let me see you, even after that?” she asked, almost a whisper.

“I cannot,” he said. “It is not my choice, but I cannot.”

“Is it… a curse?” she asked, and he hummed in response. “Then I shall find a way to break it.”

“Just keep loving me,” he said. “That is enough.”

She kissed him at that, and snuggled in further. Slept in his arms until just before daybreak when she felt him rise.

“Go back to sleep Julie. I must go.”

“I know,” she said, though it was neatly a whine. “I just wish…”

“What do you wish for love?”

“That we could be together in the day. Stroll through the fields under the light of the sun,” she said.

“Who needs all that?” Reggie said sweetly. “You are my sunshine.”

Julie spends her days after that longing. Longing for Reggie’s hands in hers as she walks through the fields, making flower crowns and enjoying the soft breeze. Longing for his voice to join hers as she sings beneath the cypress tree. For a smile to reflect her own as she dances around the villa to the sound of music played by invisible servants. For his arms around her as she naps. She’s taken to napping late in the afternoon so she can stay up with him at night now, treasuring the time they have.

And every night he treasures her right back. Letting their hands and mouths map each other, calling out in ecstasy as they topple over the edge time and again. Falling asleep to thundering heartbeats as Julie tells him with her body how much she adores him when she still cannot voice the words.

Reggie tells her he loves her every day. Kisses the words up her arm, murmurs them into her curls, whispers them to her heart. She once jokes that he’s been struck by the arrow of Eros to be so ardent and he only offers a weak chuckle in response. She supposes a man who helps people find their match wouldn’t find jokes about their patron saint funny, so Julie never mentions it again.

She keeps herself busy though-otherwise she would spend her days moping. She reads book upon book, learning all she can. She paints-pictures of places she’s never been, remembering Reggie’s promise to take her travelling one day. Though she’s not sure how that will work with her living in the day, and only spending time with him in utter darkness. She wants to see the world, and she doesn’t want to do it alone.

And that’s the rub isn’t it? Julie’s days are supremely lonely.

So she appeals to Reggie that she might have visitors. “Of course darling,” he says as he cradles her. “I know your parents cannot come due to their duties, but if your friends wish to visit-”

“I would love that!” she exclaims, and the next morning writes a missive to Flynn and Carrie, and they are due to arrive in a day’s time.

They look wind ruffled and unsure as the zephyrs set them down, but Julie cries out to them all the same before scooping them into an embrace. They don’t let go for a long time, and it’s with wet eyes that they finally do. But Julie smiles as she loops their elbows together, escorting them to the villa. They catch up over pastries, fruits, cheeses and copious amounts of wine. Flynn silently slips Julie letters from her family that cause her to weep and she tucks them away to read that night.

“I may have to consider marrying a monster if it means living in such luxury,” Carrie jokes.

“You’re engaged to the prince of Crete!” Flynn shouts, tossing a grape at her.

“Yes but the prince doesn’t have invisible servants and golden chalices, or dresses so fine that Arachne herself could have woven them,” Carrie argues, tossing the grape back.

“He’s not a monster,” Julie protests. “Reggie is just a man. A kind, gentle, sweet man who cares for me like I always dreamed.”

“Have you seen him?” Flynn asks, and frowns when Julie shakes her head. “Then how do you know he’s not?”

“I’ve felt his features, I know his heart.”

“Besides, with a life like this, and as long as he treats her right, who cares what he looks like?” Carrie says.

“I know, I just… worry I guess,” Flynn admits. “You know what the soothsayer said, and shapeshifters exist. I guess I would just like to satisfy my curiosity. Make sure you’re safe and that he is who he says he is.”

“I’ve never felt safer,” Julie assures her friend, squeezing her hand. But the doubt takes seed in her mind, no matter how much she tries to expunge it. She and Reggie have been married for almost a year now, and she has no clue what he truly looks like. So after her friends leave, she decides that she… she needs to know.

She knows where Reggie sleeps, though she’s never ventured inside. She knows Reggie has been cursed, but surely seeing him will do no harm. She lights a lantern, creeping forward towards the large bed, swathed in heavy curtains. Her hands are trembling as she moves them aside, and then moves the light to take in her husband.

He’s beautiful.

Pale, milky skin stretched over a trim but strong body. Dark hair that fell over his eyes. A field of freckles the colour of sweetest honey that dot him from cheekbone to cheekbone. A soft looking rosebud mouth that breathes in and out slowly as he slumbers. Then his eyes flutter open-a field of soft green under lush lashes.

He leaps from the bed, looking terrified. “What have you done?’ he asks, almost angry sounding.

“I just-” she starts, but backs up, knocking over a vase, a piece nicking Reggie’s torso as it flies. He hisses with pain and Julie gasps when the blood that wells up is not a bright crimson but golden ichor-the blood of the gods.

“Reggie-”

“We were so close Julie,” he laments. “But now I am cursed to return to my mother Aphrodite. If you care for me-find me. Save me. I love…”

He disappears before he can finish his thought, leaving Julie sitting on the floor, broken pottery and drops of golden blood surrounding her as the lantern burns down.

She sits there stunned for too long, unsure what had just happened. She had married a god. And not just any god, but Eros, the god of love. She whines as she buries her face in her palms as she recalls her tactless joke about the god to his face. Then sobs when she realizes that Reggie-Eros had left without knowing that Julie loved him back.

And with that, she knows she has to rescue him. The zephyrs come when she calls, thankfully, though their voices are faint, their gusts not as powerful. Their power is fading without their master to keep them tethered here. She packs as many supplies as she can, and they help her scale to the top of the mountain, vanishing as she whispers her thanks. Julie has no idea where to start looking, but she starts down the road determined to make this right. If Reggie will forgive her, she will love him for the rest of her short life and make sure he knows it every day.

The road is long and hard. She shivers as she sleeps under trees and in barns when the rains start. Rationing her food as best as she can, but the cramps of hunger plague her far sooner than she would like. Her clothes are muddy and torn, her hair a tangled mess, and she feels a mess. If only Carrie could see her now!

But Julie keeps going, asking every kind stranger to direct her. Comes across trial after trial, takes so many wrong turns. She knows she’s being tested, and though she’s tempted to give up, she persists. Finally, she finds the temple of Aphrodite, and Julie lays down her offering, pleading with the goddess to return her husband.

“Unworthy girl,” a voice rang out, haughty and judgemental. “You must prove yourself should you wish to win my favour and the chance to see my son again.”

“Whatever it takes,” Julie vows. “I would do anything for him.”

“We shall see.”

The tasks the goddess sets out seem impossible to Julie and she weeps over each seemingly insurmountable task as it is presented to her. Yet at each turn, the animals and creatures of the earth come to her aid, ensuring her success. She thanks them all profusely, and they all respond that their help is due to her kindness to their brethren in the past.

“She’s succeeded at every task you’ve given her,” Reggie says from his mother’s side. “Please let us be together now.” He tugs at the golden chain that traps him here. Stares longingly at the image of Julie laying out a vessel of Styx water his mother had been so confident would trip her up.

“She shall be tested one more time,” Aphrodite says. “Then I shall free you. You can freely wallow with her for her tiny existence then.”

“I promised you I would make her immortal,” Reggie says. “And I shall.”

“She’ll have to survive a trip to the realm of Hades first,” his mother says with a sinister smile.

Reggie pales. So few mortals made it into the underworld, let alone back. He watched with bated breath as Julie looked despaired at the thought of the final test. Yet she stood all the taller and went on her way. Fetched some item of Persephone’s that his mother had demanded. He’d have to return it to Percy later, and Reggie is silently thankful for his friendship with the queen of the underworld.

Julie is dirty and tired when she approaches Aphrodite’s temple, the jar of beauty cream in her hands. She’s so close to having Reggie back in her arms again. She catches sight of herself in a reflecting pool, and startles. Her famed beauty is obscured by grime, by weariness, and a part of her is tempted to open the jar, sample the cream, but decides against it. She does not wish to raise the ire of her mother in law any more. So she places the jar down and waits.

“She’s done it!” Reggie whoops. Yet the chain does not fall from his ankle. “Free me!”

“No,” Aphrodite says. “She failed. She was supposed to use the cream.”

Reggie looks at his mother, then at the wavering image of Julie. “You cursed it.”

“Of course I did,” Aphrodite says. “You need to get over this silly little mortal girl dear. Find a goddess worthy of you. I know Hera can find you a mate that meets my standards.”

“I don’t want some goddess, I want Julie!” Reggie yells in rage. He summons his quiver, yanking an arrow, driving it into the lock, making it fall. “And I’m going to get her.”

He flies out the window, ignoring his mother’s shrieking for him to return. She holds no power over him any longer. He finds Julie, withering away at the temple, and takes her into his arms. Kisses her for all she’s worth. “Julie, my life, my love.”

“Eros,” she breathes out, voice weak. “You came.”

“I always will for you,” he promises. “And… I like it when you call me Reggie.”

“Reggie,” she says, like it’s a prayer, a benediction. “I love you.”

“And I you my wife,” he says. “Now come, let us have the wedding we should have had.”

He takes her to Olympus, lets the muses restore her while he appeals to the pantheon to grant Julie immortality. Details all the hardships they had been through-mostly at the hands of his mother. Zeus strokes his bread and thinks. Confers with his fellow deities.

“We shall grant your request Eros,” he says. “But you are to refrain from firing your arrows at the behest of any other god again.”

“Easily done.”

Julie is brought out, in a dress that shines rainbow bright. Sparkles with diamonds and silver, looking every inch the goddess she will become. Reggie has donned his own wedding finery-bright gold and rubies to contrast her. He holds his arms out and gives her a wide smile.

“Well wife, will I do?”

She giggles, and cups his face in her hands. “You’re so beautiful. But you always were, even when I could not see you.”

“As are you my sunshine.”

They engage in the ceremony once more, only this time Hera blesses them, and Hermes gives Julie the cup of ambrosia to drink while Reggie has wine in his cup. Julie glows golden as she gulps down the sweet nectar, shimmering with the gift of immortality, but her smile outshines it all.

They feast for the rest of the day, and as the meal draws to a close, Reggie hugs Julie close. “Ready to see the world?” he asks.

“I’d like to see my family first, and enjoy our home together a bit first,” Julie admits. “The world isn’t going anywhere, and now we have forever to see it.”

Reggie laughs and agrees, pulling his wife-his goddess-in for one more kiss.

#my stuff #writing #fanfic #otp 2023 #year of the otp #rulie #julie and the phantoms

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kiribaku-fics-whatever · 2 years

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Gods/Greek myhtology au

Favored by the Gods by codename_bewareofthefangirl

Since the day of his childbirth, Kirishima Eijirou had always been kept caged in that solitary tower on the cliffs. He was the precious son of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty, patroness of the city of Sestos: how could have they let him free when he was the saving grace of the city? It was his responsibility to be the elected priest and consecrate his life for their prosperity.

He would be allowed to appear in public once a year, for the celebration in honor of Adonis, his Mother’s most loved man. He would welcome all the inhabitants of the city at Aphrodite’s Temple and offer his benediction through the Sacred Dance.

He had only one duty, his life had only one meaning. Stay safe, do not disrespect the Goddess, guarantee protection to the city.

Nothing more.

Split my skin, it's colored red by Grimmseye

Kirishima’s expression flattens. Slowly, he closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against Bakugou’s and sighing. “I pray to those gods every night to forgive you,” he says, long-suffering yet fond. “Someday they’ll take me, and then I’ll burn for you, too.”

“They’ll have to battle me for you,” Bakugou tells him, sees the devious joy it brings to his face. “And I’ve never once fallen in battle.”

Gimme A Man After Midnight by Cleor_nor

Katsuki Bakugou, Son of Nike, the Goddess of Victory, is chosen by the Fates to rescue the unfortunate Son of Eros who had been turned to stone by the gods. With the Sun God Apollo against him, and several trials to overcome, Katsuki is determined to win and prove himself as a great hero.

It helps that at night, he can escape to his dreams where his beautiful friend Eijirou is waiting for his return, a loving constant amidst the challenges of Ancient Greece.

ad alta, ad astra by theroyalsavage

Bakugou Katsuki, lord of the dead, hates a lot of things. The god of springtime is not one of them.

Oh My Gods by Synnie

Kirishima is overjoyed when he learns his fields have been blessed by the Harvest God, Crimson. When Bakugo, God of War, helps himself to the Harvest God's offerings, Kirishima learns a blessing from a god is also an open invitation for other gods to wreak havoc in his otherwise quiet life.

But when the gods are betrayed by one of their own, Kirishima finds himself caught up in the intrigue. All he wanted was to go back to the life he knew. But will that be enough for him now that he's tasted so much more?

every little bit (helps the fire burn) by mintandmarmalade

Force is all Katsuki’s ever known. He’s never stopped fighting, and he has no intention of changing that now. It’s worked for him so far.

But the new guy lifts a rough, bandaged hand out of his pocket before answering; his eyes are bright, like he’s thrilled to get to take the mic. “Hey! I’m Kirishima,” he says, then locks eyes with Katsuki before flashing a grin full of huge, shark-like teeth. “Nice t’meet you guys!”

Oh, no.

There’s no fucking way this is happening.

Katsuki has spent his whole life trying to prove himself by beating down everyone who doubts him, whether they think he’s weak or because his bullshit Goddess of a mom won’t stop flinging love interests his way. That was the plan for his sixth summer at Camp Half Blood - never show weakness, even if the new Ares kid with the unwavering smile isn’t deterred by his walls.

Honestly, it's not going great.

God-Touched by Kallistos

To save his sister from a damning prophecy, Prince Eijirou agrees to marry a monster he’s forbidden to see. What he discovers, trapped in a palace in the sky, forces him to question everything he's ever held as truth.

A retelling of the myth of Psyche & Eros.

parted, and never parted by Authoress

Before going into battle, it’s only proper to make an offering to the god of war. But Kirishima’s run out of things to give.

From Fire and Ashes, Flourishing by Milligramme

It was starting to be insanely hot, Eijirou tripped so often that he was almost walking on all four at this point, his hands were all scratched from the rocks, his clothes dusty and in disarray, and to make things worse, the volcano was mocking him with an uneven slope that made him think the summit was close only to reveal another one further up.

Kirishima's peaceful life on his volcanic island is put to an end when the dormant Mount Bakugou comes back to life, each eruption getting closer to the village and the crops. As panic starts to spread, people remember the old god of the volcano and the ancient tradition to offer him a sacrifice.

Kirishima doesn't buy any of this, but the older villagers seem serious. So before they kill someone in the name of a god that might not even exist, he decides to climb the volcano himself, hoping to find out what causes the eruptions.

Unbreakable by ColleenWritesMN

Kirishima was born blessed by the Sun God, the only person with crimson eyes in his village. He had his mother’s sharp teeth and sonorous voice and his father’s broad shoulders and dark hair, which his parents lamented: if only he’d been given fiery red hair to match his eyes. No one in the village had red hair, though it was said to emerge every other generation or so. Their village was truly the most favored of the Sun God, for their offerings were the most celebrated, the most lauded. And their tributes returned from the temple every year, which couldn’t be said for other villages. When he turned twenty, Kirishima won the privilege of tribute, chosen for his sturdiness and unflappable spirit. The villagers wouldn’t go so far as to call him “the sun” – or risk godly vengeance – but a day never went by that he wasn’t helping someone bring in crops from the fields or carry water home from the nearby spring. If he frowned, only his parents witnessed it, because the villagers only received his blinding smile when he passed through the market. He was the ideal choice to bring the village offering for the year, for how could the Sun God resist that ready smile and shining red eyes.

#kiribaku #kiribaku fic rec #bakushima #bnha #god au #greek mythology #mostly #gods #gods au #list #the writer rocked #writers #the writers are always rocking

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primordialpaper · 8 months

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Fairy Tail Avengers AU Random WIPs and Snippets, #5

At the sound of a throat being cleared, all eyes turned to find Wendy standing in the doorway. The Sokovian girl looked marginally better than she had a few hours prior; her various minor injuries bandaged, and her eyes a light hazel instead of gleaming red. What was more, the jacket of Erza's she had been wearing was tucked beneath her arm.

Slowly, as if conscious of the weight of the stares, she crossed over the room to the redhead, before holding out the appropriated article of clothing.

“Thank you for the loan.” she murmured, voice even and rehearsed.

Wordlessly, Erza accepted the jacket, looking incredibly confused. Before she could voice that bewilderment, however, Wendy took a deep breath, as if steeling herself.

“Captain Dragneel,” she turned to face Natsu, her expression solemn. “I am ready to be transferred to the authorities now. I’ll go quietly.”

Natsu's brows stitched together, giving her a look of equal parts confusion and worry.

“Marvell,” he began, before adjusting to, “Wendy… what are you talking about?”

Wendy’s eyes fell to her ring adorned hands, clasped together as if in contrition.

“All of this… I’m to blame for everything that’s happened.” she declared, voice barely a whisper. “I caused this. I deserve to pay for it.”

“That’s funny,” Sting suddenly remarked, putting on a mask of pensiveness as he began to pace from across the table. “because I don’t recall seeing you there when I built Ultron. Erza? Gray?” he spared them a befuddled glance. “Did you notice a blue-haired little girl around the tower?”

“You only created Ultron because of the vision I gave you.” Wendy insisted, fixing Sting with a look of confused irritation. “If I hadn’t-”

“Right, right,” Sting interrupted. “And we’ll definitely be having a talk about the time you spent in my head. However, there’s a reason I created Ultron- experimented with the scepter- in secret. I knew no one would be keen on taking that risk. Your little jaunt through my psyche might’ve given me the motivation, but the idea began with me. All you did was speed things up a bit.”

Wendy appeared flabbergasted. “I- I was part of Hydra-”

“Who tricked you, and used you for their own ends.” Erza informed her. “You joined them because they made you think they would change things for the better.” she managed to lock eyes with the girl, sympathetic brown against frightened hazel. “Trust me, just because they made you, it doesn’t mean they own you.”

“Besides,” Gray called from his place leaning back on the couch. A half grin crossed his face. “I told you, once you walked out that door, you were an Avenger. Don’t go backing out on us now.”

“As founder, I can assure you, the benefits are worth it.” Sting preened. “Health care, dental, we’ll even handle your immigration to Fiore!”

Wendy gazed, wide eyed, at the other occupants of the room. “I don’t understand…” she murmured faintly. “Why… why give me a second chance?”

“Because you earned it.” Natsu informed her. “No one in this room is without mistakes, or regrets. But we’ve all decided that any time spent dwelling on those mistakes is time wasted. Instead, we’d work together, to do what none of us could do alone, and try to actually fix things in this world. You made some bad decisions, but in the end, you chose to defend the world. That makes you an Avenger, if you choose to accept.”

“I do!” Wendy blurted suddenly, eyes wide and shining. “I accept! It’s what Mest-”

Her voice shook slightly at the name, and she paused. Then, she raised her head to gaze at Natsu head on, eyes glinting with resolve. “It’s what Mest would have wanted.”

Face pulling in a somber smile, Natsu reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Then let’s make him proud.” he proposed, to which Wendy nodded, a hint of a smile ghosting across her face. The group sat in silence for a moment, before Sting pulled up a holographic screen and keyboard.

“I hate to interrupt this touching scene,” he professed blithely, fingers flying across the screen at light speed. “but I have approximately three hours to institute a new Eucliffe Foundation scholarship visa program to award to our ‘exceptionally skilled, impoverished youth’ here-” he winked at Wendy. “and get cracking on a new suit design…” his face became contemplative as he cast her an appraising look, no doubt already envisioning several possibilities for the girl’s uniform. “How do you feel about corsets?”

#fairy tail #wendy marvell #erza scarlet #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #sting eucliffe #FT+MCU AU #my writing #primordial post

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wxniesrxse · 1 year

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Trying to Escape YANDERE TRAINEE A shot

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Pairing: TA x you reader

Genre: Yandere, toxic relationship, dark romance

Warning : toxic relationship (might trigger some of you ) don’t read if it bothers you!

💜What's a Yandere personality: Yandere is a Japanese archetype used to define a character whose love, admiration, and devotion is so strong that it is expressed as an excessive obsession and possessiveness. They are often seen as characters that are crazily in love with someone. (Def 2) It is well recognized in Japanese novels, manga, anime, and video games. A yandere character appears first as a harmless individual, but behind their meek nature is a broken psyche. Once they fall in love, they would do anything for their love interest, including committing atrocious crimes.💖

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Intro

I never thought he could be this way.....if I knew who he really was I wouldn't still be with him. Now I can't escape. I feel trapped and have nowhere to go. My family must be so worried about me.

I bend my legs towards me and wrapped my arms around them. I laid my head against them while closing my eyes. I'm sitting in a silent room where everything is color grey: walls, floor, chairs, table, and bed. Hehe...even the sky I see through the locked window is grey.

My life turned grey after I started living with him.

What time is it?...

I look at the white alarm clock that's on the table beside my bed. "6:45 pm..." I mumbled to myself as stared at the tiny clock. You look at the small calendar next to it.

Wait?!.... Today is the day he is at the audition! That means...he'll come late! I can escape!

There's something he doesn't know...the secret place to escape....I found it one time as I was exploring the room. In a corner where the big square piece meets the wall, I can open it up, and down it leads me to a strange dark place.

I also saw some light....could it lead me right outside?

Quickly I put my running shoes on. I shoved some clean clothes and others important items inside my backpack. I ran towards the corner of the wall pulling out a knife from my backpack at the same time. I hit the knife against a side of the floor so it can go trough. I pushed down and try to cut throughly upwards.

It took me a few hard minutes to finally open the "door" of the floor. I threw my backpack down inside first. It seems that ground is not that high...I might I get injured a little once I fall down but I don't care I just want to get out of here.

I did as I thought and yes....I hurt myself , I hit my knees but I can still walk...feels quiet painful.

The light! I see the light! It's like a tunnel, a tunnel with light coming through. What is this place? Whatever, I don't care how long it's gonna take me to get there, I have to get away from him.

" I have to escape! I need to be free from him!"

"Ohhh really?....hmmp....my beautiful y/n wants leave me?..." you heard his voice.

You are freeze. Unable to move. Your eyes are so wide as they've never been before. You felt your heart beat so fast out of here. Many crazy thoughts went through your mind, but once you remember he was supposed to be in the audition...did he lied to you all this time?

You felt angry.

" YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE AUDITION YOU LIAR!" You shouted as tears run down your red cheeks.

" Of course not...I would never leave my princess alone...ever. I love you so so much, and I would never let you go nor would I leave you alone...ever." He said.

I dropped on my knees.

Did he know about this place? When the times he left...was he hiding here all this time???

I heard his heavy footsteps getting closer towards me. I felt his cold hands on top of my forearms. He was trying to pick me up. I stand up along with him. He wrapped his arms around my body and I felt his lips close to ear.

" I will always be right here for you...anywhere and in anything...I will protect you from everyone...you need to understand that you are my everything...I love you Y/n...you're only mine forever..." he kissed the top of my ear.

I start to cry again his chest.

I will never get out.

No...I must leave...I must get out of this hell hole he has me in. I'm down here already....the only thing I need is to be brave and strong to fight him.

I pushed him off me with so much force that he fell to the ground. " NEVER! I won't stay with you! I'm leaving!" I start to run as fast as I can while putting on my backpack. I follow the light of the tunnel, and as I run towards the small hole of the tunnel was getting bigger as I'm getting close to it.

I heard the sound of his shoes behind me. He is catching me! No!

My heart is beating fast and I'm starting to sweat. I can't let him catch me.

💔Sangwon: *stops running and falls on his knees* YN! *starts to cry* Please don't go...If you leave...I'll kill myself!.... You have to understand that you are so important to me... I would do anything for you...so please....*growls slightly angry* Stay..with me..forever..* glares at you but he walks up to you and kisses your cheek with a soft gaze*❤️

❤️‍🔥Woochan: YN!!!! *stops running to catch his breath* Haha...Let's talk! Look! *smiled sheepishly* I know my behavior lately has been....intense...but that's because I...I accidentally killed someone that was trying to hurt you....S-so I'm a little nervous...b-but I did it for you! To save you from evil friends trying to hurt you! L/N Y/N! That's how much I love you! *he gets on his knees and pleads to you* 💋

🌹James: but Y/N...you love me...I know you do...so why are you running away? Do I scare you? But...the only thing I'm doing is protecting you...Isn't that what a good boyfriend does to the girl he loves? STAY.WITH.ME...YN. * gets close to your face *🎈

❣️JJ: HAHAAHAHAHAHA! Haaaaa...YN, YN, YN ~~...my beautiful YN....you are crazy if you think you can run away from me...I already told you before...*smirks* you are mine and you will never escape from me...because I love you~ *winks* 🎁

❌JIHOON: *chuckles to himself * Ahh...look...we can do this in the easy way or the hard way...you choose...but whatever option you pick...you will never escape me...because I'm your only true love and you will stay with me...got it? *smiles at you sweetly* ❗️

😡Leo: *pushes you against a wall, his face close to yours * You know very well you can't escape from me, even if I let out freely, I'll find you somehow... because I know everything about you, I will kill anyone that tries to intervene between us not mattering if it's your friend...or a family member...you are mine...got that clear? *holds your waist* 🍷

💥Yorch: * immediately catches you and back hugs you while crying* YN! Please just... stop running...look I can change if you want me to...I just...I love you too much...and I don't want to lose you...I love you so much that I could kill someone for you...*he hugs you tighter *🥀

I...I don't know what to do...he said I can't escape from him even if he lets me outside...I'm scared...what should I do...I guess my fate is to stay with him forever...I haven't said this before...but I love him too...I can't just leave him alone...maybe I can change him!

"Come on let's go inside, my YN..." he holds my hand with that sweet smile on his handsome face.

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I’m still adding Leo and Yorch 🥲✨

< also on wattpad and IG>

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