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zafirosreverie · 3 years

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Share my infinite (Agatha x Fem!reader) Part 2

A/N: This is long, guys. But i didn't want to do two parts for this, since i still have to do another one for the reader's recovery. Also, I have a huge headache, so forgive any mistakes.

Anyway, i hope you like it! ^ - ^

You ran as fast as you could, voices screaming with rage behind you. They will kill you.

“Shit” you growled when you tripped with a branch. You got up quickly and continued running, but that second was enough for the dogs to come closer to you. Those stupid dogs and their stupid owners, why couldn’t they leave you alone?! You didn’t do anything to them and yet they were hunting you, just because of your “family”.

“I don’t even have the last name” you mumbled.

You were part of a rich family that was respected among the people of your town, but you were never a part of it. You were the odd one, the freak, the mistake. You were the only one that inherited your grandfather's...condition.

At some point in the family’s story, someone thought it was cool and a good idea messing up with dark magic and ended up marrying a vampire, condemning the entire lineage to fear for the purity of their blood. By the time you were born, that was just a legend, something the parents told their childs to make them behave.

“Y/N, stop doing that” your mother would say. “It must be the vampire in her” your father would add.

You were a pretty curious girl, which led to many misbehaviours, so you heard that phrase too often.

“Wish something really hard and it will become a reality” you thought with sarcasm.

When you were 8, the nightmare began. You had just lost your baby teeth and your new ones were appearing. Your parents thought it was cute, but then, your new fangs came and they screamed in horror. They were too long to be normal. They were like your grandfather’s. They were vampire’s fangs.

At first, they tried to pull them out, it hurted like hell, but they didn’t move. So, your parent’s kept you hiden, not even the rest of the family could see you (you would later hear that they didn’t want to). The only person that you were allowed to interact with, was the grandfather himself. He was actually your great great great great great great grandfather, but allowed you to call him Grandpa or Grandfather. Your parents decided that you were no longer their daughter, so he gave you his last name. His real one.

He was sweet and nice with you, teaching you how to retract your fangs and everything he knew about your condition. He told you that you shouldn’t worry, that it was something that happened every generation. Your uncle Nicholás had it too, so it wasn’t anything you couldn’t control.

What he didn’t tell you was that uncle Nick was burned alive for it.

You weren't a full vampire, you only had a few remnants of vampire blood in your veins. Grandpa was sure that, with every generation that had the condition, it became weaker and weaker, so he had faith that you would be the last one to have it. And he was right.

You were the last one. None of your nephews or nieces got it, nor their children or grandchildren or great grand children. You were there for the babies’ births, and for their deaths too. Generations came and went, but you remained the same. You stopped aging at 22, and were trapped like that ever since. Your grandfather died long after your great grand nephews did, but it proved that you were not eternal.

As the years passed, you became kind of a myth among the family, the maiden who didn't age. The ghost of the library. The shadow of the house. Generation after generation, you became just another part of the family heritage, something that came with being part of the Van Dales. Everyone treated you like another decoration.

Until now.

These new people (you had stopped thinking of the new generations as your family long ago) decided it wasn’t fair that you got to enjoy all the money while they had to die. It was a stupid argument, but that didn’t matter. You knew they just wanted to get rid of you. And that’s what they did.

They spread the word around the town, that whoever brought your head to them would be rewarded with part of the family treasure. You barely had time to grab a small bag with your belongings (the ones you had since you were a child) before you were carried out of the house and into the woods.

They didn't tell you why, just to wait and they left you there. A few minutes later you heard the footsteps of the people and a man saying that he would be the one to kill you and claim the reward.

You started running in that very second.

“don’t change, don’t change, don’t change” you begged, feeling your eyes burning.

One of the things that you learnt the hard way was that when you were in danger, your e/c eyes would change to dark red, and then you would go into a frenzy. That meant you would become a murder machine, and you didn’t want that even if it was your last hope.

“Of all the things I got from the vampires, why couldn't it be super speed?” you thought as you heard the men coming closer. Your legs were burning and your lungs were about to explode.

You weren’t paying much attention, so you didn’t notice the air changing nor the energy around you. You needed to escape.

You tripped again and you cursed. But you couldn't hear the dogs or the men anymore. You lost them? How? They were right behind you, there was no chance that you could have lost them.

But you needed to rest so you weren't complaining at all. It didn't last for too long.

You heard a leaf crushing and steps close to you. You stood up quickly and prepared to run again, but something stopped you. You couldn't move, as if your feet were glued to the earth.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" A voice said behind you. You froze and your eyes started to burn again. The person walked around you and you saw the most beautiful woman ever. Her eyes and hands were glowing with a purple light and suddenly you understood why you couldn’t move. She was a witch.

Your grandfather taught you about witches, saying that, just like you, they were usually misunderstood, and that you shouldn’t be afraid of them. Even if you ever meet an evil witch, the vampire blood in you would protect you. The fact that her magic had an effect on you, meant that she actually didn’t want to hurt you.

"Aren't you a precious little thing?” she asked and you couldn’t help but notice how lovely her voice was. “What are you doing here, darling?”

You opened your mouth but closed it again. There was so much to explain but words didn’t come to you at the moment. You remained silent for a few moments before trying to speak again.

“I- I escaped” you whispered, making the woman raise her eyebrow.

“escaped? from what?” she asked, stepping closer to you.

“Men” you simply said. Her presence was making you nervous and you felt your cheeks blushing.

Your answer seemed to be enough for her and she nodded, unwrapping you from her magic.You noticed her eyes turned to an ice blue color and you gasped. They were the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Y/N”

“Y/N” she repeated and your heart jumped a little. You loved the way your name sounded in her voice. “Come with me” she said and started walking. You blinked and stood there for a moment before you quickly followed her. You didn’t know her, but it was this witch or the hunters.

They didn’t have beautiful blue eyes or a lovely voice. So the choice was easy.

She took you to a small cabin, surrounded by big trees and a little pond on the side. You blinked and blushed as she opened the door for you. The simple interior made you feel warm and protected. She saw you wandering around the room, watching her things carefully, not touching anything but being interested in them.

You noticed her smile and stopped walking, taking a step back. She was staring at you as if you were her prey, which, to be fair, might be the case.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that you don’t follow strangers into their houses, love?” she finally asked after a long moment of just staring at you.

Agatha was intrigued by you. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn’t have been able to pass the barrier she put around her house, not even other witches could do it. But most importantly, you shouldn’t be standing there as if you were comfortable in her presence. As if you weren’t afraid of her.

“I’ve been living with strangers for a long time” you said honestly and shrugged “i guess i’m not afraid of them anymore”

That made Agatha even more curious. She walked to you and locked eyes with you. You were a little surprised by it, but you didn’t look away.

“You’re like me” she said softly, and you shrugged again.

“I guess so?”

The witch didn’t want to have high hopes, but she had been alone for almost 200 years now and the possibility of having some company was enough to let you stay some days. At least until she discovered more about you and how much power you had.

_________

“Don't” Agatha warned you, not lifting her eyes from her book “whatever you’re thinking, don’t”

You giggled and ignored her “I’m not doing anything, Aggie” you lied and she sighed.

She was about to turn around to see what you were planning, when she felt your cold hands in the back of her neck, making her jump.

“Y/N!!!” she yelled and you laughed, watching her shivering.

“Got ya!” you said when she turned to face you

“Those are ice! Are you sure you’re not dead?” she asked with sarcasm and fake anger, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away.

“Could be. I haven’t checked my pulse today” you joked and she chuckled.

You had been living with her for a year, and she had fallen head over heels for you. You were sweet, charming, always had a smile on your beautiful face and you were always finding ways to make her laugh. You were kind and loving towards her, making her loneliness fade away.

But you were also naughty as hell.

You loved making pranks, jokes and chaos. She was your favorite target, but it was something almost innocent, nothing that a child couldn’t do (a part of her knew it was because you were forced to grow up too quickly, so you were just doing what you wanted to do back then), but that benevolence didn’t extend to other people.

Your pranks and jokes were anything but innocent when the targets were people from the town near the forest. It made sense, because they were the same people that tried to kill you a year ago. But you once told her that you actually just enjoyed causing chaos, which made her fall in love with you even more. She loved being by your side whenever you caused something among the humans. It was a magnificent artwork, a chaotic, kind of evil, maniac, artwork. And it had both of your signaments in the corner.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice you talking to her. When you looked at her and saw that you had lost her at some point, an evil grin appeared on your face. Well, you were not a person that decline opportunities.

Agatha gasped when you pushed her to the pond.

“Y/N!!!!” she yelled again and you laughed harder.

“That’ll teach you not to ignore me when I’m trying to declare my love for you, Harkness” you joked and walked to the house.

The witch sighed as she stood and used her magic to dry herself. That has been your most cruel joke to this day.

When she met you, she assumed you were a witch. You crossed her barrier, after all, so you must be a powerful one. But when she tried to steal your magic when you were asleep, she sensed it was too weak, she could barely call it magic at all.

That confused her so much. How did you cross then? This amount of magic was not enough to do it. The next day, she confronted about it and you just blinked.

“You think i’m a witch?” you asked before you giggled “I’m a vampire” you said and left her speechless.

You taught her everything you knew about your condition, but it wasn’t too much since your family just wanted you to hide yourself. So she tried to learn everything she could about vampires. You frowned and said that if she was going to learn about your kin, then you wanted to learn about hers.

And just like that, your lessons started. The first days, you two sat at the table with a pile of books in front of you, but that plan disappeared the moment you saw her stretching to make her back more comfortable. You took the books and threw them on the floor, making Agatha gasp, then you took her hand and made her lie beside you on the wood. You’ve never used chairs for study or reading since then.

The joke started when she started to teach you some tricks. They were pretty simple and basic, but she loved the look in your face when you got one of them right. One day, you were so happy to finally do a spell you were trying for weeks, that you kissed her cheek with excitement and her mind went blank, her cheeks burning. You noticed it and never let her live with it.

Since then, you would make comments or do things that made her believe you might feel the same, but then you would just laugh and leave her with a hole in her chest.

“Aggie?” you asked softly. You had noticed that she didn’t follow you and after a moment, you went out again to make sure she was okay. You frowned when you saw her just standing there, lost in her thoughts.

You carefully took her hand and she jumped, looking at you.

“Are you ok?” you asked and she nodded, removing her hand from yours.

“I’m fine, Y/N” she said and your frown deepened. She never used that tone with you. The “I have something in my mind but you wouldn’t understand so let’s pretend i’m alright” tone. You took her face in your hands and made her lock eyes with you.

“Don’t lie to me” you whispered

Agatha stared at you for a moment before she sighed. She couldn’t. She always thought she was strong enough to lie to everyone, to take what she needed and do what she wanted. But you, you made her weak. And she would do anything for you. Even expose her heart and let you break it.

“Please don’t do it” she said “please don’t make jokes about your love for me. Not when we both know you don’t mean it.”

You frowned again in confusion, but when you understood her words, you blushed and felt your pulse racing.

“Who said i don’t mean it?” you asked softly, caressing her cheek.

“NO!” Agatha said, more harsh than she intended “Don’t do it Y/N.” she said, whispering again “Please. Don’t give me false hopes. I can’t take it” she begged and you felt guilt invading you.

You had been making those jokes because they were the only way you could get your own feelings out of your chest without actually risking your friendship with the witch. If you had known she felt the same way…

Agatha gasped when she felt your lips against hers. She wasn’t expecting this, but she had been wanting to do it for so long that she took the opportunity. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her. Your lips were too soft and she would be happy to lose herself in them.

“I’m sorry” you whispered when you broke the kiss “I’m sorry i didn’t tell you before”

That made her open her eyes. There was a silent question in them, and only your own eyes had the answer.

You kissed her again, and again, and again, wanting to erase all the doubts you accidentally planted in her mind. Each kiss was an apology and a promise. No words were needed at that moment.

#x reader #reader insert #imagine #agatha harkness #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agnes imagine #agnes x reader #marvel #mcu #wandavision imagine #agatha harkness x y/n #agatha harkness x you

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luvlyrv · 3 years

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Naughty | pt. 3 | Irene x F!Reader | Mafia!AU

Summary: Two crime bosses entangled in a deadly and tension filled rivalry start to find themselves entangled in a different kind of relationship.

Not without going through a lot of death, pain, fighting and teasing first of course.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I don’t know if I have the time to write a lot right now so I’m posting the things I already finished and are sitting in my draft. Enjoy reading! Irene and Y/N’s relationship kinda uhhh gets complicated from here on out lol

Completely unrelated but, how many times can I rewatch every single ‘Red Velvet: A Mess’ video? The answer is way too many.

Date: 1/12/21 (written)

Series Masterlist

Part 3: A Dance to Remember

Irene is looking over a hung up map of the city in her office when she heard a knock.

"Come in."

Seulgi, her second in command, entered the room. She held a plastic bag in her hand and had a pissed-off looking face. She walked towards Irene's desk and threw it there.

"A gift, from Y/N to you presumably." She announced.

Irene stepped away from examining the map and turned around to look at the bag on her desk. The bag had a horrible smell, and as Irene got close enough to see its contents she understood why. All 10 fingers of the recent informant Irene got in contact with. She gave out a low and short chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" Seulgi was furious, because this was not how things were supposed to go.

"She's interesting, isn't she?" Irene asked playfully.

"Yeah, interestingly good at fucking up our plans, Irene." Seulgi still wasn't having it.

"Don't worry, you know me." Irene said as she strutted down to sit on her chair. She sits and looks up at Seulgi who now had a confused face. "I always get what I want, and what I want is to win this game."

Seulgi bites her lips, knowing that Irene had plans stirring up in her brain. She sighed and sat down across from her boss.

"You know I'll always be one step ahead, right?" Irene asks Seulgi.

"Of course. So, what do you want me to do now?" Seulgi responds.

If Joseph was being honest, tonight there would be a gala hosted by some rich businessman you frankly didn't care for. What you did care for however, was the fact that Joseph said Irene was supposed to be there.

You stood in front of your vast closet. You had to choose the right outfit for tonight. Something fashionable, prim and proper, yet not too glamorous as to make you stick out like a sore thumb. After several moments of contemplation, you decided on a maroon dress that hugged your body. It fell just right above your ankles. It was a simplistic dress, one without jewels adorning it nor any extra patterns, but the simplicity was what made it so beautiful to you.

You quickly change into the dress and brush through your hair, trying to make sure you wouldn't look like a mess when you would inevitably be surrounded by snotty rich people. For safety, instead of settling on heels you decided that perhaps nice-looking flats would be enough. You also grab a fitting purse and inside the purse was only your pistol and a tracker.

When you leave your house, you find Taehyung patiently waiting outside. He's looking fashionable himself in his tuxedo. When he catches sight of you he smiles and looks at you up and down.

"You certainly will blend in."

He opens the passenger seat for you and then makes his way to the driver's seat. He begins to take the both of you to where the gala was, and to pass the time you reviewed the plan over with him.

"Taehyung, you're purely there for recon. Don't get a trigger finger, and no matter how bad things seem don't butt-in. We really can't risk blowing our cover."

Taehyung just nods in response.

"I'll either plant a tracker on her or we'll have to follow her on foot and car. Just... don't worry about me too much. I really can't afford you getting anxious and well..."

"Yeah, I get it."

You didn't want to remind Taehyung about the fact he blew the last mission you guys had that was similar to this.

You know you're finally at the gala when you see a building with expensive cars surrounding it, lights lighting it up like a heavenly palace. You grab an intricate mask that covered your eyes from the dashboard of the car. Luckily, it looked more like a fashion statement that went with your dress rather than an attempt to hide your identity. Taehyung also wears a matching mask, with the plan being that the two of you would sneak into the event and then play it off as girlfriend and boyfriend if anyone asked.

After walking the perimeter, you finally found a spot in the back of the building with a clear route to sneak in with. The two of you enter the building with ease and began to bustle about. Taehyung would always be a couple feet in your vicinity, looking out for your back. Meanwhile you would be scanning the area for a woman that matched Joseph's description.

Beautiful, he said, you can't help but to chortle at the thought, but that did pique your curiosity about her. Joseph said she was short in stature but likely going to wear heels. Black hair and pale skin. Nearly a guarantee that she would be accompanied by her underboss, Seulgi. Brown hair and cat-like features on her face.

Honestly, Joseph's description was vague and shitty, but you'd make it work. After all, all you had to do was look out for a person who's face screamed "I've murdered and seen murder".

Of course, one can always try to pass off as innocent and pure, and most probably wouldn't notice. But you knew that among people like yourself, someone like Irene would be noticeable. Her body language should say it all.

After an hour of searching though, you begin to feel your hope falter. You couldn't find anyone that seemed to fit the description of Irene or Seulgi. You sigh, until you feel a tap on your shoulder. You flinch and quickly turn around, only to calm down when you realize it's just Taehyung.

"Jeez, you scared me."

He chuckles a bit before his face turned a bit more serious.

"Sorry about that, I just wanted to say, maybe that's her?"

He points to a far off corner, and you feel like he's hit a mark. You open up your purse just slightly. You gently grab the tracker and hide it within the clutches of your left hand. You begin to walk over to the corner Taehyung pointed to, and smiled to meet a woman that seemed like Irene. As you begin approaching her she notices your presence and turns over to you with a blank face.

You bow down in front of her and extend your right hand with your left behind your back.

"May I have a dance with you?"

The woman quirks up an eyebrow, a strange look on her face. Nonetheless, she hesitantly gives you her hand. They're small, and despite the cold look she was giving you they felt incredibly soft and warm. You begin to dance with her.

"May I know your name, pretty lady?" You ask her.

"Hmm," she hums to herself, "you can call me Irene, and I'll let you know that I'm thoroughly unimpressed right now".

Even though she says she's unimpressed, she continues dancing with you, her hips swaying with yours. After only a couple seconds of silence she asks you the same question.

"And who might you be?"

"Your lover for tonight, perhaps?" You try to play sly with her. As bad as a line that was, you smiled anyways. Irene lets a sharp exhale out of her nose.

"Now I'm really unimpressed." She says with a small smirk on her face.

As the orchestral music crescendos, you dip Irene low to the ground. Your left hand is on the dip on her small back as she allows her weight to rest on you. You hold her steady for a couple seconds as you secretly press the tracker into her dress. You're excited to know that the first step of your plan was complete, and you feel your heart rush with excitement.

Or was your heart rushing for a different reason?

You pull Irene back up and close to you, the both of you pressed up together chest to chest.

"Did you enjoy the dance, Irene?"

"What is it to you?"

You laugh a little at her response and pull away.

"Well, if you're not going to answer I suppose you won't. Farewell for now, Irene." You slip out of sight from Irene and into the crowd of other dancers. For a second though, you finally notice a girl that you would assume to be Seulgi, staring down at you with a confused glare.

You quickly make your way back to Taehyung and force him to follow you to the car.

Your ears are red. Your face is flushed. Your heart is beating so fast.

Taehyung turns on the car light and takes off your mask, shocked to see you sweating so much. He puts his hand on your forehead.

"Shit, Y/N are you sick?"

You shake your head no.

"Just nervous. I mean. Shit I think Seulgi might've known." You explain to Taehyung. He just nods. Another part of you, deep down inside though, is repeating the feeling of Irene's hand in yours, the feeling of you holding her, the subtle waft of peaches of cream coming from her body. Why were those thoughts in your head?

"Taehyung, pull out the laptop. Let's just wait for the party to end in a bit and then follow."

"Alright then."

Taehyung grabs the laptop from the back seats of the car and turns it on, pulling up the software that blinked where the tracker was. You sighed with relief, as it looked like it was still on Irene.

Now all you had to do was confront Irene when she entered a place where she thought she'd be safe. It was as simple as that.

The problem though, was that it was as simple as that. A feeling of uncertainty and anxiousness began to squeeze your chest. Things... shouldn't be this easy. Things rarely ever came this easy. No way could it be that easy to fool your rival, right? You try to calm yourself down though. After all they never removed the tracker from Irene. Even though Seulgi glared at you, that could just be because of your close vicinity with her, not because she thought you were out to kill Irene.

Yeah, things would turn out fine.

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s-c-r-i-p-s-i · 4 years

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Desperate Measures

[Dead by Baelight’s Kinktober // Day 1: Ritual]

🖤 🖤 🖤 Seeking privacy, you stray a little too far from the campfire to perform your... daily ritual. Ghostface has been watching and decides it’s time for a little audience participation.

🖤 🖤 🖤 Pairing: Ghostface (Danny Johnson) x Gender-Neutral AMAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

CW: non-consensual voyeurism, choking, spanking, canon-typical violence, smut

Word Count: 3,219

When you first started this ritual, you weren't planning on making it a habit.

Here, every minute of your life was survival mode. Nonessential functions closed until further notice. You were a heart, some nerves, and sometimes, sometimes a brain.

You didn’t get bored; hah, that was rich - there was always something that needed to be done, even in Limbo. You were perpetually exhausted, yeah, but sleep was an impossibility. For the most part, you didn’t get hungry; you didn’t have to eat anymore - although sometimes you were struck with the overwhelming desire to eat one of the offerings meant for the Entity, just to taste something other than blood for once.

And for fuck’s sake, you thought you didn’t get… You know.

Horny.

See; for all intents and purposes your appetite for anything like that was dead. For the longest time. It wasn’t even something you thought about, so… not on your radar, that you didn’t even mourn it. There were other things to worry about.

And then one day Ghostface came around, and it’s like he slammed a live AED on your libido.

Maybe this place was getting to you. You knew you shouldn’t have found a serial killer so goddamn hot… but when death was just a setback, it kind of fucked with your sense of morality. At least, that’s how you tried to rationalize it.

So, how did it happen? You’re still asking yourself that. Assholes weren’t exactly your type. At least… you didn’t think so. Not back on Earth.

But he had your attention immediately. Mostly because you’d never heard a killer speak before. That is, not to you. And in your own language no less.

And boy, did he speak. (And speak, and speak…)

The first time you faced him, you’d been working on a generator and felt a chill rock your body just as it finally hummed to life. That random little bite at the back of your neck that prickled down your spine. Except here, it was rarely random. Here, it always spelled danger.

“Nice work,” He’d cooed, stepping out of fucking nowhere. You’d later learn that he… tended to do that. “Haven’t seen that in awhile. Must be getting slow.”

It was obvious what he was - the mask was a dead giveaway. Killer. But you didn’t move. You were too stunned that he was actually talking to you. “Thanks,” you’d kind of snorted, “I try.” You were still asking yourself ’what the fuck was that’ to this day.

“Oh...” He breathed. “You talk back. I like that.”

And he sounded so genuinely - if maliciously - interested that you had to assume that didn’t happen often; survivors talking to him. That your shitty little, what, comeback? if you could even call it that - pleased him.

“I hope you run, too.” He’d cocked his head - a not so subtle hint to get this show on the road.

“...Is that what-” He wanted, you were about to ask, although you weren’t sure why. Looking back, you think you were just stalling for time, not for any tactical reasons, but just because this was such a novelty to you.

The thought that maybe, just maybe you already wanted to please him was simply too annoying to entertain.

But he interrupted you.

“Yes.”

And this strange mix of almost playful and ruthlessly efficient would be a running theme in your trials against him. He didn’t waste a whole lot of time - even though he very well could have, with how adept he was. No one was ever spared. You never got the impression he was taking it easy on you, or drawing out a chase, or anything like that. Ninety percent of the words you ever exchanged were while you were looping him, or dangling from his shoulder as he strode towards a hook.

And yet, you still found yourself oh so fucking fascinatined by him. It was definitely conceivable that you were just attention starved. That there wasn’t anything else to it. Even among the survivors, there weren’t many you could count as real friends. And yet...

It was to the point where getting caught almost felt like a reward, because it always carried the positive reinforcement of you being able to banter with him for a minute. Which - you like to think you’d gotten a little better at. Always through bouts of struggling, of course; you tried not to be completely useless. For your own sake, if not your team’s. Getting hooked hurt.

Anyway, it was during one of those struggles, one day, wriggling around in his grip and beating his back and being a general nuisance, that it happened. You’d been bitching about -... you didn’t even remember.

And then he decided, “You know; you’ve become awful mouthy.”

And you were immediately riled up, because if anything, it was him that liked to talk just to hear the sound of his own voice - not that you could blame him, because what a sound it was. But you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could get anything out beyond an offended, “You-!” his other hand came down on your ass with a resounding slap.

You’d jolted straight, heat flooding your body at an alarming rate as you suddenly forgot how to string syllables together. Don’t worry. You made several embarrassing, aborted attempts.

“Well.” He mused, and you could hear the smile in his voice as he grabbed your hips to string you up. “Now I know how to shut you up.”

You screamed as the hook pierced through your chest, but he shushed you, breath stuttering with chuckles as he raised a finger to his mask, “Shh, shh, shh, shh, shhh. Don’t ruin it, now.”

That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you ended up in the middle of the fucking woods with your hand down your pants after every other goddamn trial.

It started, as all addictions do, with the simple rationalization ‘It’ll just be this one time. Just to get it out of my system.’ How many times have you told yourself that? Only to end up exactly where you were now - breath quivering like a goddamn junkie as you threw your back against a tree and shoved your shaking hand down your drawers.

Your fingers finally wrapping around yourself was both sweet, sweet relief, and at the same time not. Goddamn. Enough.

It’s just, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Him. It. Did it really matter? God you wished he’d done more than spanked you. Done more than promptly tossed you on the hook afterwards. That’s how goddamn bad you had it. He hadn’t even done anything else, but for you, it was the sexual awakening of a century.

You hastily stuffed your shirt in your mouth to grant yourself access to your chest, eyes rolling back as you gripped yourself and began to pump, other hand quickly trailing up your chest to tease your nipple between your index and middle fingers.

Always a frantic means to an end. Mechanical abuse. No time to really even fantasize. Which was fine, because that’s all you seemed to fucking do in between these little affairs.

Infuriatingly, though, this constant throttling of your bits meant you were starting to build up a tolerance to your own rough treatment. Still, you tried to get yourself off as quickly as possible. You knew you’d be missed, and -

You felt a bite at your neck, a chill down your spine. The kind that spelled danger.

“Slowly, slowly, it’s too nice a job to rush.” Ghostfaced chuckled, emerging from behind a tree. You saw the mask first, a shock of white in the darkness that nearly sent you into cardiac arrest.

With all the frenzied, nonsensical urgency of someone who’d just seen a bug crawling on them, you flailed in your rushed attempts to make yourself decent, yanking your hand from your pants, spitting the shirt out of your mouth and trying to frantically smooth everything down. It didn’t even occur to you at first, in your lizard brained panic, that he’d already seen everything. Or that no matter how you fixed your clothes, you still looked thoroughly debauched; panting, blushing all the way down to your chest, and your hair all mussed from the tree you were leaning up against. Oh yeah, and the fucking erection you were still sporting.

Your mouth was still bone-dry from the shirt you’d just had stuffed in your mouth all but two seconds ago. “What’re you-?!”

You had about a million questions on your mind. For one - How was he even here? You thought this kind of pocket realm - the one with the bonfire, the holding cell for survivors in between matches - was a sanctuary. The only place you were safe from these fucks.

“We all come here when it’s our time to play,” He explained smoothly, “We burn our offerings in the same flames as you. You just don’t see us. But we see you.” Ghostface sung, stalking closer.

“Besides. I’ve been here a long time. Long enough to know how to traverse the fog. Useful,” he sighed the word as if conceding something, even though you hadn’t said a word, “when one doesn’t have a home.” He stopped right in front of you. “...Useful for watching what naughty little survivors do when they stray far enough away from the flock.” Even with his face hidden behind that mask, you could feel the accusation in the way he cocked his head and crossed his arms expectantly.

“I-” You choked the word out, a second wave of mortified heat rising.

“But you, you were such a good little lamb until just recently. I wonder what changed.”

“Please just…” Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, you mentally pleaded. You wanted to die. You’d rather melt into the ground than hear another minute of him taunting you. You were far too embarrassed, and far too wound up to suffer through whatever the hell he was monologuing on about. Any other time you might have appreciated the opportunity to talk to him without all the pretense of trials. But not. Right. Now.

“You’re having trouble with that today!” He observed gleefully - about your inability to put together a complete sentence, you assumed. “And usually you’re so vocal. That’s alright. Here. I’ll make it easier on ya.” Reaching for the damp, wrinkled up hem of your shirt, he pulled it up, and two gloved fingers stuffed it back into your mouth, feeding it to you until your mouth was full of cotton and he was satisfied.

You just stood there, stupefied.

“What, do you prefer my other method?” And he- he fucking reared his hand back and mimed a spank in the air. Oh my god. You hated him. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, here,” he chuckled.

Placing his hands on his hips, Ghostface hummed, long and deliberate. “Come to think of it, you’ve been acting awfully strange for the past, oh, say the past few weeks or so. Ever since I…”

Oh. Oh no.

Your glare morphed into a look of sheer horror. That bastard. He knew? Or was he just a goddamn narcissist and automatically assumed it was about him, and just happened to be right on the money? It’s not like you’d been screaming out his name while you did it. Maybe you just weren’t half as subtle as you thought.

“So - here’s how it’s going to go. It’s been fun, just watching you. Really. But I’ve seen this show enough times that I think I deserve some front row seats, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, he just takes you by the chin, forcing you to nod for him. ”Great!” He throws up a hand, “Then we’re all in agreement. Keep going.”

Ghostface crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, settling in.

He wanted you to…? You push at the shirt with your tongue, intending to speak, but he stops you.

“Nope. Nah. Keep that in.”

O...kay. This was probably the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done, but you were still so stunned that it wasn’t... wasn’t quite sinking in yet. In the back of your mind, you were lowkey convinced this was a prank. A joke. That any second he was going to bust out laughing, tell you ’psyche! Oh my god you actually almost did it.’

But that moment never came.

Slowly, and with no small amount of hesitance, you began dipping your hand back in your pants. You half expected him to complain about how long you were taking, but he didn’t say a word. You guess he did tell you to go slow. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking under the mask, his posture impassive. But you eventually reached your sex and gave it a slow, experimental tug, inhaling sharply at how much more sensitive it felt just knowing that his eyes were on you.

You looked back up for any sign of approval, some sign that this is what he wanted but he hadn’t moved an inch. So you kept going, touching yourself, just a lot more slowly and mindfully than before. The thought of going full monkey brain on yourself in front of him was… not appealing. Plus, it didn’t even seem necessary anymore, with the way your stomach was now fluttering at the lightest touch.

“That’s much better,” He said eventually, and the way he cooed it like he was praising you went straight to your core, hips twitching forward. “If you keep going at that thing like a can of spray paint, you’re liable to rip it clean off. And then what’ll be left for me?”

That imagery wasn’t sexy at all, your nose wrinkling as you cringed at him, but then he said that and all you could focus on was the notion that maybe he was planning on doing more than just watching.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, clearly sensing your hope.

“MmfHmfh.” Your sorry sound of agreement was muffled by the shirt in your mouth, so you paired it with a pathetic head nod, eyes pleading.

“Shit,” He laughed, “I was just going to bait and switch you, but if you’re going to be so damn cute… I guess I could be generous. Why don’t you show daddy what he’s working with?”

Maybe you were paranoid, but you felt like that was opening yourself up to get stabbed in the junk. Was it really wise to be so vulnerable around him? You weren’t sure if you trusted him, but Mr. Knife hadn’t made an appearance thus far, and you felt so desperate and full and achy that you just didn’t care.

Hesitantly, you pulled down your pants and drawers down to your thighs, just enough for your cock to spring free, bobbing lightly, crown swollen and shiny and absolutely flushed with arousal.

“Adorable. Now,” He removed the shirt from your mouth, only to press two fingers at your teeth so the end of the finger seams were between them. “Bite.” You did, carefully, and he used the leverage to slip his hand from the glove. Rather than just leave it hanging there, he pushed it back into your mouth like he had the shirt, the disgusting tang of leather and you didn’t want to even think of what else rusting on your tongue.

But it was all worth the sweet relief of his bare fingers finally wrapping around your cock. Your eyes fluttered back almost immediately, moaning around his glove as your head fell back against the tree behind you. Oh, this was wrong, wrong, wrong, but it felt so much better than touching yourself and you’d fantasized about this for so long. It was like honey for your body, the best kind of sweetness building up in your core, every pass of his fingers pushing you closer to overflow.

And it didn’t take long at all, with how long it had been since you’d been touched by another person, with how wound up you already were. You neared the edge fast, your dick twitching in his grip as your hips began to weakly rock, chasing that saccharine end.

And then he stopped.

Motherfucker.

You growled in frustration as your budding climax waned, hips instinctually slanting forward in search of something, anything, and finding nothing. Your gaze flicked up to him, silently asking ’What gives?’

“I said I’d touch you, I didn’t say anything about cumming.”

You nearly spat the glove out and gave him a piece of your mind, but his hand did eventually return, placating you for the time being. Even if his touch was far too light and understimulating at first, waiting until you’d been sufficiently backed down from that edge before building you back up. In due time your head was falling back against the bark, gasping as that feeling in your core started to balloon.

And then he did it again.

This time you really did spit the glove out, catching it in your hand. “I have places to be, Fuckface!”

“Riiiiight.” He drawled skeptically, amusement coloring his tone. “And, it’s Ghostface, actually.”

“Okay, GrossFace, if you don’t fucking finish me off-”

In seconds, his gloved hand was around your throat, leather creaking as he squeezed lightly. “You’ll what? Careful what you ask for, baby, you just might get it,” He warned, pressure slowly increasing. “But you might not like the way I decide to finish you off if you don’t play nice.” His hand eased off your throat, and you were relieved as you were disappointed - because shit, you were actually kind of into it.

“So, let’s go with Danny. Do you think you can manage that, sweetheart?”

Was that… his name? You felt oddly touched that he’d give you that. You hardly knew any of the killers' real names. Not trusting yourself to speak, you nodded, and your reward was his hand coming back to gently wrap his fingers back around you, stroking you slowly.

“Maybe third time’s the charm, huh?”

You weren’t so sure, but you were so backed up it hurt so you let him steer you back to the brink, your sounds growing desperate and so much more audible without anything to muffle them. “Danny, please,” you begged; you could feel yourself nearing that apex again, and if he stopped now you might actually cry.

He hummed, low and thoughtful, but the sound didn’t betray an inkling of emotion.

But he didn’t stop. And soon your climax was crashing over you so hard your knees nearly buckled, the tree at your back the only thing keeping you up as your whole body lurched, dick jumping as it choked up it’s release all over his hand and the forest floor.

Panting, your legs shook as you just stood there a moment, head tipped up to the sky, just trying to recover. You were dimly aware of him snatching his glove back as you felt him yank it from your hand but it barely registered. One by one, questions started to pile up but you were still too whelmed to speak.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Danny spoke first.

“So… Same time tomorrow?”

“I-” You broke, half laughing, half scoffing at the outright absurdity. “Sure.”

You guessed you could start a new ritual.

🖤 🖤 🖤

Thank you for reading!!! 🖤 🖤 🖤 Notes: AHHHHH, I did it, I wrote my first real one-shot. I've been roleplaying for nearly 20 years and it's kind of ruined my motivation for writing by myself but I wanted to break the habit. Thank you to Pugge and Libby for beta'ing this for me, ily both. This piece was written for Day 1 of the 🔞 Dead by Baelight 🔞 Discord server's Kinktober. ((I'm just posting it early because I have 0 self-control)) Anyone over 18 is welcome to join here.

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd ghostface #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen #my writing #oneshot #scripsi

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anti-the-glitch-bitch · 3 years

Text

Open Flames

Chapter 2

Word count: 4,311

“Aww, that’s so cute, but no. You’re going to stay here like a good little nightclub owner.” Tony stood outside the plane, arguing with Lucifer. They had been doing this since the three of them had arrived at the airport. Neither one would back down from the other, and it would have been highly amusing if Azar wasn’t worrying herself to death about meeting Tony’s teammates. Did they know about her past? What if they hated her?

Azar watched from her seat as Lucifer gave Tony an offended, hurt look. It changed into one of flirtation and seduction, and soon enough, Tony was letting him onto the plane with a dazed and confused look on his face. She chuckled when Tony sat in the seat next to her with a pouty expression on his face. “Hmm. I see Lucifer will be joining us this evening. I wonder what could have changed?”

“Say anything to the others, and I’ll have Lucifer demonstrate his abilities on you.” Tony glares at me as one of his flight attendants brings him a drink. Thank god for having a rich friend; it certainly made travel much more comfortable.

He takes a sip from his glass and avoids the stare coming from the man sitting across from him. Lucifer grins as he looks at Azar and Tony, who are still avoiding his gaze. “I do believe this will be a rather exquisite trip. Such an exciting event to meet the Avengers. Is Thor around? I haven’t seen him or his brother since that Asgardian party about 200 years ago.” Lucifer put his glass down and clapped his hands together. He looked like an enthusiastic child about to see his favorite classmates after a long summer break.

Azar was taking a drink when Lucifer dropped this small bit of news, causing her to choke on her drink in surprise. Tony thumped her back, trying to help her out but seemed just as shocked. Lucifer seemed a bit concerned that Azar was choking but could not figure out why both of them were so surprised.

“You Know Thor? Why didn’t he say anything to us? When did you meet? How often do you party with them?”

“You’ve been to Asgard? How hot is Loki? Is he as hot in real life? How crazy is he? Does Thor fall in the Jock category? He seems like a jock.”

Lucifer held his hands up at the bombardment of questions coming from both of them. Azar and Tony both talking over each other in their excitement to get more information. Tony’s questions are laced with a bit of skepticism, considering that the person shelling out this new information considered himself the Devil. Azar, more eager to hear about Loki than the blonde-haired Avenger.

“One at a time, please. I’ll answer all your questions. Yes, I’ve known Thor for quite some time. I met him and his brother around the era of Vikings. Quite a lovely bunch, those Asgardians. Really know how to throw a party.” Lucifer continued to answer questions the entire flight. It made the time pass relatively quickly and gave both Tony and Azar insightful knowledge into their companion.

Before she knew it, the plane had landed, and she was gathering her items. Lucifer and Tony didn’t have any luggage but were kind enough to help Azar with hers. Azar was overjoyed when she saw that it was Happy leaning against Tony’s car, waiting for them to show up. Happy stood up and straightened his suit when he saw the three of them coming towards him.

Azar ran for him and gave him an enthusiastic hug. “Happy! Man, have I missed you. You missed a great moment.” She started laughing when Tony gave her a sharp look.

“Azariah, keeping out of trouble, I hope? It hasn’t been the same since you left. Tony keeps moping around the place, complaining about how you abandoned him. Maybe now that you’re back, Pepper won’t have to kick him out every night.” Happy returns the hug, chuckling, before opening the door to the car.

“Uh, excuse me. I was not moping. I openly disagreed with her life’s decision, and Pepper can’t kick me out of my own house. It’s my house. That would defeat the purpose of me having one.” Azar rolls her eyes as Tony gets in the luxury car.

“Well, I’m not sure if he told you, but I’ll be staying here for who knows how long. We’ll have to catch up some time. I need to know if there is some lucky lady that has caught the attention of my friend here.” Tony snorts from inside the car but, surprisingly, doesn’t say anything else.

Happy leans down to see into the car with an offended look on his face. “I’ll have you know that I can get a girl. Maybe not as easy as you, but I can still get one.”

“Don’t let him get to you, Happy. He keeps it up, and I’m going to set his suit on fire.” Azar pats Happy on the back when a throat clears from behind her. “Oh, right, sorry. Happy, this is Lucifer. Lucifer, this is Happy. He's coming with us to meet everyone.”

Lucifer sauntered over with his usual charming grin. “Hello there. Nice to meet you.”

Happy stutters for a moment before leaning into Azar and whispering, “Are you sure this guys' alright? There’s just something about this guy that I don’t like.”

Before she can respond, Lucifer is butting in with a scowl on his face. “Yes, well, I blame Dear Old Dad for that. Blaming me for everyth-“

“Yeah yeah, we get it. It’s all your dad’s fault you’re stuck like this. Get in the back and get over it.” Azar rolls her eyes and moves so the tall devil can get inside. She shuts the door on him just as he opens his mouth to say something else. “Don’t ask, Happy. Let’s just go so I can get settled in and meet the team.”

Happy walks to the other side of the car with a short laugh, and they both get in. Once they are buckled in, he starts the car and takes off. Azar is looking out the window when she feels a hand on her shoulders and a mouth by her ear.

“I do like a woman in charge. Perhaps later, we can see just how in charge you can get.“ Sexual energy seemed to ooze from Lucifer’s words, and the tension in the car rose.

“As much fun as it is to see you get Red all flustered, I’d prefer if she didn’t set the car on fire with us inside.” Tony pulled Lucifer back into his seat, and they stared each other down with a battle of wills.

“Oh, I’d much rather see you flustered, Tony. I’d prefer to see you naked in my bed, but I’ll settle for flustered.” As Lucifer turned his full attention on the cocky man, the look on Tony’s face was a beautiful sight to see. He wasn’t prepared for Lucifer to switch his full attention from person to person, which left him slightly speechless. Tony started clearing his throat and loosening his tie when Lucifer put his arm on the back of Tony’s seat and whispered in his ear.

Happy glanced at Azar with confusion, but she shook her head, trying her best not to laugh. It was funny seeing the tables turned on her friend, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Tony was squirming in his seat now, blushing slightly. Lucifer had the biggest grin on and was enjoying every minute of this.

“Pull over! I, ah, just remembered I have to go and, uh, do something for Pepper really quick. She, yeah, Pepper. My assistant.” Tony looked ready to jump out of his skin, and his cheeks were bright red. He looked like he was prepared to jump out of the car.

“Tony, we’re only 10 minutes away.” Happy was pulling over even as he said this. Probably used to the erratic behavior of the billionaire.

Tony didn’t bother with a response; he just jumped out of the car the moment it stopped. Tapping the reactor on his chest caused his suit to spring to life and envelop him. Before his face mask lowered, he bent over, “You couldn’t handle this,” his face mask shut, and he was off.

Azar was bent over in her seat, laughing hysterically. Lucifer shut the door and had a cat ate the canary look, very content with himself. “Oh, I like this one. Azariah, you naughty girl, why didn’t you tell me you had such fun friends?” Azar was laughing too hard to be able to answer. She was still chuckling to herself when they finally pulled up to the Avengers’ Headquarters.

Azar got out of the car and stood gawking at the giant building in front of her. It was even more impressive than Tony’s original building. Lucifer stood beside her and looked at the facility for a moment before huffing, very unimpressed with it all. “Yes, yes. The building is big. Can we go inside now? I could go for a drink, and I would love to catch up with Thor.”

She shook her and grabbed a bag as Happy and Lucifer grabbed the rest. The moment they walked into the building, a male voice greeted them, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere. “Welcome back, Ms. Azariah. As always, it is a pleasure when you visit.” The voice held genuine emotion yet, at the same time, felt distant.

The addressed woman seemed to light up. Her face brightening at the greeting, though she didn’t bother to look around for the bodiless voice. “Jarvis! I missed you, pal. Still giving Tony hell?”

“Of course, Ms. He has started to ignore me more often than not, so it’s like informing a smart brick wall.” Azar had to laugh at that. It sounded like the relationship between Tony and his AI hadn’t changed a bit. “Mr. Stark has notified me that you will be staying here for some time. Shall I inform you where you will be staying?”

“Uh, Tony said something about setting me up between Legolas and Point Break? I’m not entirely sure who those are supposed to be.” Tony was always coming up with nicknames for people, but he still failed to explain who the nicknames were for or why he had picked that particular nickname.

Happy walked in front of Azar and nodded his head towards the stairs, his hands full with her bags. “I’ll take it from here, Jarvis.” He started walking towards the stairs knowing that Azar would follow.

“Very well, Sir.” Jarvis didn’t say another word after that. Though, if she needed something, Azar knew that Jarvis was always ready to help any way it could.

Azar looked at Lucifer, who had been observing this interaction with curiosity, simply held out his hand, gesturing that she go first. As she followed Happy, she looked around the new building, curious about the differences between Tony’s two buildings. This one seemed to be more practical and filled with things that might suit each team member’s needs. They passed several shut doors down a long hallway before stopping in front of one with her name on it.

Azar opened the door and gawked as she walked inside. It looked as though Tony had been planning this for some time. Her room was styled in shades of black, red, and orange. Her bed was huge and had a pitch-black comforter with stars and the moon. Different bands adorned the walls, all ones she liked. The room had been made specifically for her, and it made her tear up.

“When did he do this?” Azar asked Happy as he put her bags on the bed.

“He has a room set up for you in all his homes. Just in case you ever need somewhere to crash.” Happy glanced around the room briefly, and Azar could just tell he was not fond of the style. He was just too nice to say anything about it.

“Jarvis, is Tony around anywhere?” She had to thank him. It may not mean much to him, but this meant the world to her.

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Stark is currently away at the moment. Shall I call him for you?”

“No, it’s ok. Tell him to stop being a chicken shit and get back here before I tell everyone why he ran away.” That should get him to hightail it back.

“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“That’s it. Thanks, Jarvis.”

Azar observes Lucifer as he walks around the room, checking everything out before turning to Happy. “I’m going to take a nap since I worked last night. Is there an extra room that Lucifer can have?”

“Tony didn’t say anything about this guy staying.” Happy gives Lucifer such a distrustful glare that it was almost comical. He did not want the tall mischievous devil staying here, probably because of what happened in the car.

She laughed and gave him a reassuring smile. “Just a change of plans is all. Seriously, it’s alright. It’s not like he can do much damage with everyone that stays here. Besides, Thor can vouch for him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m keeping an eye on you. I don’t trust you no matter who vouches for you.” Happy points at his eyes and then at Lucifer. Lucifer walks towards the shorter man and smiles, holding his hands out slightly to the side. “Oh, you can keep more than your eyes on me.” That was not the reaction Happy expected, and he widened his eye.

“Lucifer, play nice. At least wait until I get up from my nap before trying to seduce anything that walks on two legs.” She knew she couldn’t curtail his behavior entirely, but she could try and make him wait until she could play referee. Who knows how the others would react to him.

Lucifer stopped and sighed as though this was a massive inconvenience to him. “Well, that’s just plain boring. What am I supposed to do here then?” He threw his hands up in the air.

Azar started pulling out some clothes from her bag and laying them on the bed. “If Thor is around, then you can hang out with him. I’m sure he would love that. You could explore the rest of the place. I’m sure you can find something to do that doesn’t require getting naked. Don’t forget that it was your idea to come along, not the other way around. Don’t get pissy just because this isn’t your playground. Things work differently around here. All you have to do is wait until I get up, and then we can find something to do.”

“I can think of a few things we-,“ Azar jumped at Lucifer, putting her hand against his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

“Don’t even think about it. Now follow Happy like a good boy and behave.” She started pushing both Happy and Lucifer out the door before either one could say something else. Both turned around to open their mouth, only for the door to be shut on them.

Azar sighed in relief and rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted from everything that had happened and couldn’t wait to get some sleep. Changing out of the clothes that Lucifer had given her and into something more comfortable was great. Sliding into the King-sized bed was even better. Before she fell asleep, she told Jarvis to wake her in a few hours or if Lucifer caused any problems. With that done, she immediately fell asleep.

Screams surround her as a fire rages through the house. Smoke fills her lungs, making her cough. She hears her mother scream her name. Turning towards the screams, she sees a wall of fire separating her from her parents. Her dad pushes her mother away, presumably telling her to get out of the house. The more afraid she gets, the more vicious the fire burns until its roar blocks out all other sounds.

The young teen scrambles around her room, looking for anything hard enough to break the window leading outside, the locks having melted from the flames. “Honey, use the bat!” Her father yelled at her from behind the wall of flames. She runs to pick up the wooden bat and hears a crash come from somewhere in the house, her panic driving her to move even faster.

Her vision blurred, and her lungs filled with smoke; she used all her strength and swung at the window, causing the glass to shatter outward. The flames roar hungrily at the fresh air and greedily take it in, becoming yet more ferocious. After knocking out the rest of the glass, she turns to her bed and starts pulling off everything so that she can put it over the doorway in the hopes of creating a hole for her dad to get through, her father screaming at her to get out the entire time.

She almost makes it when the beams start creaking, and then part of the ceiling collapses, burying her father in wood, flames, and smoke. Her screams could be heard from miles away as she cried for her father to get up. Tears would have fallen down the teens’ faces if it hadn’t been for the heat, causing them to evaporate instantly.

She fell to her knees and screamed for him until her throat was raw, in such focused grief that she never heard the sirens or the firemen busting through her window. She struggled against them as they dragged her out the window to others waiting on the other side; her arms still outreached for her father.

“Azariah! Wake up!”

She coughed as the firemen dragged her to the ambulance, and the EMTs started checking her over.

“AZARIAH, YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP!” That voice broke her free from the spell of the nightmare. Tony was standing over her, shaking her awake. She shot up, adrenaline and despair running through her veins, making her heart race. The smell of something burning and the whoosh of a fire extinguisher forced her to look over and see a short-haired redhead woman trying to put out flames that licked at the walls and other furniture with ferocious tenacity. Trying to help her was a man about the redhead’s height. He didn’t have a fire extinguisher but had a bucket of water that he was throwing on the desk in the far corner.

“Hey, Firestarter. Can you do something about the fire currently burning the place to the ground?” Tony snapped his fingers, getting Azariah’s attention. Her pulse is still racing, and her brain panicking from the nightmare, she throws her arm out automatically and calls what flames are left to her. The fire flies to her hand and nestles her palm like a long-lost child finding its way home. Clenching her fist, she snuffs the fire out.

The man stares at the redhead for a moment with a raised eyebrow and then turns back to Azar. “I’d say that’s terrifying, but I’ve met a guy that can wield lightning. This is like a regular Tuesday for us.” The redhead gives him a glare and a shake of her head as if to say, not now.

Azar’s breathing is shallow and rapid as her brain continues to throw out horrible what-if scenarios. Her eyes were assessing the damage that had happened because of her. “Hey kid, don’t worry about it. There’s nothing in here that can’t be-“ He placed his hand on her shoulder, causing her to withdraw from his touch and lunge out of the other side of the bed.

“NO!” The walls started to close in on her as she had a full-on panic attack, “Don’t touch me. I can’t... I can’t breathe. I…I… go have to…out.” She started running past everyone, trying to remember how she had come in, and wholly ignored Tony worriedly calling for her.

She takes off down the hallway, her hair flowing behind her with flames flickering in between the strands. Her bare feet were leaving scorched marks on the wooden floor. It seems to take forever to find the exit, and she doesn’t hesitate to throw the doors open and rush outside, not taking notice of the people she frightened. She continues to run until she can no longer get enough oxygen to keep up the pace and falls to her knees, gasping for air. Sparks fly off her singeing the surrounding area.

Azar is slowly regaining her breath when she hears the crunching of grass behind her. “That’s not how I wanted to introduce you to the team, but I guess that will work.” Tony walks over to her, careful to avoid the still sparking woman. “Think you can put out the fire so we can talk?”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself enough to have a semblance of control over her power. The flames die down and eventually stop altogether. “This was a bad idea, Tony. I could have seriously hurt someone. I shouldn’t be here.” Azar keeps her head down, avoiding Tony’s gaze.

“Actually, you’re in the perfect place. I’ve got precautions in place in case your little fires get out of control. Can you say the same for where you’re living now?” Tony’s complacency about the incident irks her, making her stand up to look him in the eyes.

“I live ALONE! For this exact reason! You’re willing to risk people’s lives for what? So, you can have a freak on your team!? I couldn’t live with the guilt if I hurt someone because I couldn’t control this... this curse!” Azar screams at Tony, her fists clenched tightly. She wanted to punch him in his smug face so bad that it hurt to restrain herself.

He watched her for a moment before snapping his fingers. “What you need is a way to let loose. You can’t keep this part of you locked away forever. It’s a part of who you are and will never go away, no matter how hard you try to wish it away. I didn’t ask you to come here just so you could be part of the team. I wanted you here so you can learn how to control your abilities, and I know exactly how we’re going to do that.” He immediately started walking off, not even bothering to see if Azar would follow.

“Wait? What?” Tony had walked away so quickly and abruptly that Azar was left staring after him in confusion. The way he brushed off her anger and statements left her dazed. Now, she was just trying to keep up with his train of thought.

“What are you up to now, Tony?” Azar rushes to catch up to him, ignoring the looks that various staff is giving them. Tony had a look to him that she didn’t trust at all. She had seen that look, and it never seemed to bode well for her.

Tony’s aura oozed confidence and purpose as he strode back to the compound. “First, I’m going to see if Banner can figure out a way to make a fireproof suit for you. Otherwise, all your clothes are going to burn up, not just the ones you’re wearing.” That comment had her looking at the clothes she had on.

They had small holes in various places that were blackened around the edges. It made her sigh in resignation because he was right. Whatever Tony had planned would probably have her going through clothes like crazy. Not something she could afford now that she no longer had a job.

“Okay, so what else you got planned in that scheming brain of yours?”

“That is for me to know and you to find out. Why don’t you get changed while I round up the posse?” He pushes the doors to the building open and starts to walk away.

“Oh, have you seen Lucifer anywhere? If he isn’t supervised, he tends to get himself into trouble.” Tony rolled his eyes so hard that Azar was a little worried they might roll out of the sockets.

“Your illustrious friend left while you were napping, claiming this place held a serious lack of excitement, and left. He did say he would be back in a few hours.” Yeah, that sounded precisely like Lucifer. She was almost afraid to know what kind of excitement he was delving into.

“I’ll give him a shout and let him know I’m awake. He’d be upset if he missed meeting everyone.” He really would. Knowing him, he would complain and pout for days until something distracted him again. Azar didn’t want to deal with that. They parted ways, with Tony telling her to come to the common area when she was done.

Before she changed, she sent her ex-boss a quick text letting him know what was happening. After a 30 minute shower and a change of clothes, there was still no reply from Lucifer, so she had no way of knowing if he saw the message or not. Well, it wasn’t her fault if he wasn’t here.

With the help of Jarvis, she managed to find the common area with no problems. She stopped as soon as she heard noises, her anxiety spiking. She had been nervous about meeting everyone before her nightmare. Now, she was afraid they would be another bunch of judgmental assholes that couldn’t stand to be around her. She took a few deep breaths and then walked into the room where all sound stopped, and all eyes were instantly on her.

“So, I guess I’m gonna be an Avenger.”

#the avengers #lucifer #ao3 fanfic #slow burn #Oc

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theparanormalperiodical · 4 years

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The Real Story Behind Krampus (2017), And The 17 Other Terrifying Christmas Tales And Traditions You NEED To Know About

Christmas is a time for family, a time for laughter, and a time for drinking volumes of alcohol that make your cousins concerned about your emotional wellbeing.

But most importantly, it's a time for demons to hunt down children and stuff them full of straw and pebbles. No, I’m not talking about the Eastenders Christmas Special - I’m talking about the Christmas traditions they don’t put in Hallmark movies.

As Christmas has been celebrated for 2000 years, it has amassed a collation of equally terrifying traditions and monsters that only the dark corners of history could conjure up.

Although confirmed by the Dickensian tradition of sharing ghost stories (see Matthew Mcconaughey movie - or failing that some old book about poverty in Victorian Britain), it seems we’ve forgotten the true terror behind the most wonderful time of the year!

So, as your favourite paranormal blogger, I’ve taken it upon myself to bring together everything creepy ‘bout Christmas.

Today’s post is gonna take y’all through the mythical monsters you should be on the lookout for, plus the Christmas traditions that bare a dark, twisted backstory.

Which is all of them.

Let’s get spooky!

First, Let’s All About The Monsters Of Christmas

Hands up if you’ve watched Krampus (2017).

Here’s the trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6cVyoMH4QE

It might not be Love, Actually, nor will it ever score a set of great reviews, but it got everyone talking about the mythical creature titling the film.

Need a summary?

This dark-comedy/horror film centres around a dysfunctional family at Christmas. When the youngest child loses faith in Santa, he rips up his letter to him, sending a signal to Krampus that he has lost his Christmas spirit and thus must be punished!

Okay, this film doesn’t fit the actual legend that well. But the kid does get dragged to hell - and unfortunately, that’s what sticks closest to the creature titling the film.

On top of this, the movie features the classic mysterious European grandmother that has a story about the war (as a European I can confirm this). But her story isn’t about an air raid, or some long-gone past ruler; instead, it explains a twisted tale regarding the most famous companion of Father Christmas.

That being said, it provides an introduction that only scratches the surface of the mythical creatures of Crimbo:

Krampus is the half-goat, half-demon creature that is often witnessed wandering ‘round with Santa Claus. Concieved in the pre-christian era in central europe, his aim of existence was to punish naughty children.

“So, Santa provides for the nice kids, Krampus provides for the naughty kids? Got it.”

If only it was that simple.

Krampus’s family tree is more twisted than the British royal family - and has a similar collection of dodgy relatives:

Son of the Norse goddess, Hel (ruler of the underworld and the dead), Krampus is a Perchten, a race of beasts born to scare away Winter. Never heard of ‘em? Well, you’ve probably heard of his grandfather, then: Loki.

Given his famous hegemony, it follows that he is always believed to be the Horned God of the Witches, and sticks to a devilish image.

With a dark, hairy body, large fangs and a tongue hanging far below his bottom lip, beast-like is an understatement. Accessorising his frightful look is a grasp of birch branches or a whip, as well as a sack or basket (to put children in and take to hell or save for a quick drink and snack later), and chains.

However, the chains part is still subject to debate: some believe it is an attempt to bind the devil by the Catholic Church in attempt to control him, while others claim it is because Krampus is Santa’s slave.

This directly relates to the position of Krampus and his fellow monsters - they are all believed to be Santa’s companions.

So, we know who Krampus is. But did you know he has a whole night devoted to him?

Krampusnacht falls on the 6th December, a day from which people put on masks and get drunk, scaring kids. Alternatively, you can dress up and hand out coal, mirroring the Krampus spirit! Nevertheless, both serve as a reminder to children not to be naughty, as does the bundle of golden birch branches you can have in your house.

Now, who’s ready to get their feminist on?

Frau Perchta is the female counterpart of Krampus.

This goddess-monster goes about giving good kids silver coins, and giving naughty kids, uh, well, death.

She’d slice ‘em open, and stuff ‘em full of straw and pebbles. But her backstory goes much further than simply murdering children: as she oversees spinning as a part of the 12 days of Christmas, she focuses on people that get their work done.

And if you slack? Then you gon’ get murdered.

Given her name, it’s obvious that like Krampus, she’s a beast-like creature. But her animalistic tropes only go so far as her feet - just like Krampus’ single goat hoof, she has a swan foot.

“So, she’s a swan?”

Nope - she’s either regarded as a beautiful young woman, or an old crone.

Classic Patriarchy.

Next up is another animal, but this time, it comes in the form of a cat. Unfortunately, the Yule Cat is less Instagram, and more deadly. Yep - this Icelandic beast eats the kids that fail to complete their chores before Christmas.

Just like Frau Perchta, it can be traced back to farmers attempting to scare their workers into getting shizz done. If they hadn’t processed the autumn wool, they’d be eaten by the cat. If they had, they’d receive new clothes.

You’d better be thankful for those socks, then!

But it turns out the Yule Cat isn’t the only monster from Iceland. In fact, he’s actually the pet of a family of ferocious Christmas beasts!

Gryla and Leppaludi are a couple hell-bent on detecting naughty children. Gryla, the matriarch of this famalam - is a Norse giantess, who wanders round each and every village in iceland. Once she’s found said children, she eats them.

Often she is described as a beggar, asking for parents to turn over their disobedient children so she can chuck ‘em in her sack, and add them to her signature stew!

Her husband - well, third husband but who’s judging - Leppaludi, is what the Daily Mail would label a benefit-scrounger as he hangs about in their cave all day. On top of this is their 12 children: The Yule Lads.

(God, this has a Daily Mail story written all over it.)

Each lad has a different, um, quirk.

One harasses sheep. One steels tupperware - no, seriously, he makes a point of stealing pots with lids. And another steals candles from children.

So that’s Iceland covered - let’s head back to continental Europe!

Hans Trapp is our next contender for the ultimate creep of Christmas. Trapp is a resident of Alsace-Lorraine, and comes from near the border of France and Germany. But what’s really terrifying about this monster is that he once existed.

Hans Von Trotha was a French Knight and man of particular political distinction. From his feuds with the church, to his ever-roaming spirit after he died, the following myth was by no means a random creation. However, the backstory to Hans Trapp took a bit of a detour from his past:

Trapp was reportedly a Satanist who would kill children. Yeah, you can see a theme here…

This rich, greedy man was excommunicated by the church, and then exiled to the forest where he would hunt children. Well, he would until struck by a bolt of lightning sent by God. But despite his rather dark past, his backstory is less really-demonic, more redemptive.

A bit like Krampus, he seeks to remind kids to be virtuous, teaming up with St. Nicholas to ensure children would be nice.

Next is Romanian Werewolves.

Yep, that’s plural.

Sure, these man-beasts show up during the full moon, but also makes a point of unleashing their true forms at Christmas. This has merged with caroling in Romania - dressing up as animals and pissing off people busy having a cheeky Baileys rather than see their family is a common occurrence there.

Oh, and they go around and tell you not to have sex.

No, seriously, you aren’t allowed to have sex on Christmas Eve cause Jesus or somethin’.

The other Christmas mythical creatures include:

Le Pere Fouettard, some fella who tags along with St. Nick, delivering lumps of coal to naughty kids. Well, when he’s not beating them up, that is!

Knecht Ruprecht joins Santa on his rounds too, but he isn’t like Pere, don’t worry! He kidnaps children, instead.

Next up is Zwarte Piet, one of Santa’s helpers who listens at the chimney of family homes to deduce if kids have been naughty or nice. Guys, we got a wholesome helper! Wait - people dress up in blackface to celebrate him?

I think we can all agree that racism is far scarier than anything else on this list…

Lastly, we have Belsnickel. And don’t worry, there’s no racism here. This bloke clad in fur and random clothes asks kids if they’ve been naughty or nice during the year.

Let’s Talk About The Terrifying Traditions

Well, we did it, guys!

We made it through the monsters behind a Merry Christmas.

And you can rest easy knowing these are all mythical creatures that can add a smidge of spook to your Christmas. But now it’s time to discuss the spooky side to the traditions we pull out of the attic year-upon-year.

So, no, these aren’t based on myths or religion - its based on historical fact!

Great.

Anyways:

If there’s one thing that defines Christmas - and is currently crippling my bank account - its gift giving.

Thinking of giving someone scissors for the most wonderful time of the year? It will literally cut your friendship or relationship in two. And shoes? The receiver of your gift will metaphorically walk away from your relationship.

But if you’re looking for a more, uh, positive gift, a wallet or purse should be on your shopping list, instead.

Wallets with money in them are believed to ward off demons, ghosts, and all other scary things.

Another creepy Christmas fact is the historical origins of mince pies. As a Brit, seeing Americans attempt to comprehend mince pies always figures as a solid meme. But the origin of it doesn’t steer too far from ‘Murican attempts to replicate this Christmas treat.

Back in the 16th century, cannibals would add human meat to pies, selling it off as actual meat. Oh, and this parallels some vague rumour of Santa being a cannibal. Basics, a holy man told him to give gifts to kids instead of eating them.

In some strange and convoluted way this somehow chocks up to mincemeat now insinuating that there is no meat in there, instead.

*shrugs*

Speaking of tasty treats, why not make sure you stick to the rule of the Baker’s Dozen at Christmas?

When bakers would make batches, they would provide 13 of something instead of a dozen in case something turned out wrong. But they would also provide an extra roll, or a bun, at Christmas!

It’s for that reason that on the 12th day of Christmas, you have to take down your Christmas tree. Fail to do so? You’re gonna have to keep it up all year, then. It’s a mouldy pine tree, or its bad luck.

Our next tradition stakes it claim as the twisting of a Crimbo icon: it’s Santa Claus, himself.

But this time, he takes on an urban legend that I’m sure many actually believe: understandably, ‘santa’ can be traced to ‘satan’, as if it is the unholy being himself but in disguise. And ‘claus’? It can be translated to ‘hoof claws’, a running theme we see with the monsters like Krampus.

So, could it be the devil in disguise?

Satan aside, who else likes trooping up to midnight mass and singing about the JC?

Well Christmas carols - and even carolling itself - actually sticks to a relatively dark past. Take Good King Wenceslas - this bloke let in peasants and encouraged them to join his bountiful feast!

Unfortunately, his charitable efforts were not rewarded. He was stabbed with a lance repeatedly outside a church upon his own brother’s orders, and was then dismembered.

Yikes.

Historically, carollers would partake in similarly violent activities, demanding food and drink from their audience. Heck, they would even so so far as to start attacking, raping, and destroying their property!

Guess it wasn’t a very Silent Night, then…

Our penultimate tradition is that of the Nutcracker: Whether you’re watching it, or using it to have a Christmas-specific nibble, there’s no doubt that this is pretty popular image of the festive season.

But - and it’s a big ol’ ‘but’ - it’s based on a truly terrifying story.

No, there’s no ghosts, no ghouls, and certainly no demons. But there is a child marriage.

The story goes that a girl, Marie, sees a nutcracker come to life. Her Grandfather than launches into this story of how men can be cursed with the ugliness of a nutcracker. She replies by saying she’d marry one no matter how they looked.

She is then whisked away into a magical world from which she marries a nutcracker.

This all goes down whilst she is 8 years old.

Our final tradition of terror is less about the abuse of young girls, and more about evil beings breaking into your house. Merry Christmas?

See, you’d think that people coming down your chimney is reserved for one bloke in particular, but it turns out that European tales of malicious spirits taking the same route is a common tale frequently told.

Belsnickel does the same, as do Greek goblins in order to terrorise the residents of the house.

So - What’s Your Verdict?

Which tradition left you shook?

And what Christmas film are you now going to watch to try and wipe this from your brain?

Be sure to hit follow to see a real spooky story tous les jours (everyday for the unsophisticated among us)!

At this point, I would tell you to have a Merry Christmas, but I think a safe one where, you know, you don’t get dragged to hell by Krampus, is best.

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july-19th-club · 5 years

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IT IS HOGSWATCH, said Death, AND PEOPLE DIE ON THE STREETS. PEOPLE FEAST BEHIND LIGHTED WINDOWS AND OTHER PEOPLE HAVE NO HOMES. IS THIS FAIR?

“Well, of course, that’s the big issue -” Albert began.

THE PEASANT HAD A HANDFUL OF BEANS AND THE KING HAD SO MUCH HE WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE THAT WHICH HE GAVE AWAY. IS THIS FAIR?

“Yeah, but if you gave it all to the peasant then in a year or two he’d be just as snooty as the king -” began Albert, jaundiced observer of human nature.

NAUGHTY AND NICE? Said Death. BUT IT’S EASY TO BE NICE IF YOU’RE RICH. IS THIS FAIR?

- Terry Pratchett, Hogfather

#discworld #discworld quotes

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aeshnacyanea2000 · 5 years

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IT IS HOGSWATCH, said Death, AND PEOPLE DIE ON THE STREETS. PEOPLE FEAST BEHIND LIGHTED WINDOWS AND OTHER PEOPLE HAVE NO HOMES. IS THIS FAIR? ‘Well, of course, that’s the big issue—’ Albert began. THE PEASANT HAD A HANDFUL OF BEANS AND THE KING HAD SO MUCH HE WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE THAT WHICH HE GAVE AWAY. IS THIS FAIR? ‘Yeah, but if you gave it all to the peasant then in a year or two he’d be just as snooty as the king—’ began Albert, jaundiced observer of human nature. NAUGHTY AND NICE? said Death. BUT IT’S EASY TO BE NICE IF YOU’RE RICH. IS THIS FAIR? Albert wanted to argue. He wanted to say, Really? In that case, how come so many of the rich buggers is bastards? And being poor don’t mean being naughty, neither.

Terry Pratchett - Hogfather

#Terry Pratchett #discworld quotes #GNU Terry Pratchett #Hogfather #DEATH #Albert #human nature #naughty and nice

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castellankurze · 7 years

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...WE HAVE BEEN INTO HOUSES WHERE THE CHILDREN HAD MANY TOYS AND BROUGHT THEM EVEN MORE TOYS, AND IN HOUSES LIKE THIS THE CHILDREN GET PRACTICALLY NOTHING.

“Huh, we’d have given anything to get practically nothing when I was a lad,” said Albert.

BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU’VE GOT, IS THAT IT?

“That’s about the size of it, master. A good god line, that. Don’t give ‘em too much and tell ‘em to be happy with it. Jam tomorrow, see?”

THIS IS WRONG, Death hesitated. I MEAN...IT’S RIGHT TO BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU’VE GOT. BUT YOU’VE GOT TO HAVE SOMETHING TO BE HAPPY ABOUT HAVING. THERE’S NO POINT BEING HAPPY ABOUT HAVING NOTHING.

Albert felt a bit out of his depth with this new tide of philosophy. “Dunno,” he said. “I suppose people’d say they’ve got the moon and the stars and suchlike.”

I’M SURE THEY WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO PRODUCE THE PAPERWORK.

“All I know is, if Dad’d caught us with a big bag of pricey toys we’d have just got a ding round the ear hole for nicking ‘em.”

IT IS...UNFAIR.

“That’s life, master.”

BUT I’M NOT.

“I meant, this is how it’s supposed to go, master,” said Albert.

NO. YOU MEAN THIS IS HOW IT GOES. [...] IT IS HOGSWATCH, said Death, AND PEOPLE DIE ON THE STREETS. PEOPLE FEAST BEHIND LIGHTED WINDOWS AND OTHER PEOPLE HAVE NO HOMES. IS THIS FAIR?

““Well, of course, that’s the big issue-” Albert began.

THE PEASANT HAD A HANDFUL OF BEANS, AND THE KING HAD SO MUCH HE WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE THAT WHICH HE GAVE AWAY. IS THIS FAIR?

“Yeah, but if you gave it all to the peasant then in a year or two, he’d be just as snooty as the king-” began Albert, jaundiced observer of human nature.

NAUGHTY AND NICE? said Death. BUT IT’S EASY TO BE NICE IF YOU’RE RICH. IS THIS FAIR?

- ‘Hogfather’ by Sir Terry Pratchett. Not the most oft-repeated part of the book, but one worth rereading.

#kurze reads Discworld #Hogfather #Sir Terry Pratchett

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maxthommusic · 4 years

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The Musou Genre Is Exactly Why We Should Want To Pay More For Our Games

I have to say: I’m absolutely loving Hyrule Warriors. It’s a musou-style game, a la Dynasty Warriors, for the Nintendo Switch (and originally, 3DS). While the main criticism of said games can be that they’re ultra repetitive (and they are), something also should be said of game intent, purpose and console aesthetic. While Dynasty Warriors has always felt too arcade-y for sitting on the couch, hyper-focused on playing a game, this iteration set in the Hyrule universe is really amazing on the oft-portable Nintendo Switch. My girlfriend and I play a round or two before bed, making it the perfect sort of mindless fun we can do together. Controls are easy to remember, objectives are simple, and the presentation is really well-done. Including characters that have a storied lineage really magnifies the intrigue of a musou and I’m actually delighted by the story too. Although the narrative isn’t quite on par with Zelda standards, the overarching plotline certainly holds up; it’s definitely more than I expected find in Hyrule Warriors, which is a great surprise.

And what brings me to this post today is to celebrate the concept of these “mindless” arcade games and to also examine how we can keep them apart of the gaming ecosystem. After playing through behemoths like FFVII: Remake and The Last of Us: Part 2, sometimes its easy to always want AAA titles that push the limits of hardware, design and expectation. However, sometimes it’s nice not being such an active participant within an interactive media.

Exhibit A: Hyrule Warriors. Sometimes the ingredients just mix well together. I’ve played several Dynasty Warriors, I’ve tried Samurai Warriors. And while I had a passing interest in some of the Gundam musou entries, I skipped ‘em due to poor reviews. However, after stumbling upon Hyrule Warriors, I’ve started doing some actual research on the genre and the fandom, and it really seems like musou is generally misunderstood.

On the podcast I enjoy, Sacred Symbols (paid patron), musou games came up recently and there was some discussion about how bloated the release schedule is. How can Omega Force keep releasing all this stuff? And on some of the reviews I read that knocked the games, one critic, in particular, mentioned that Fire Emblem Warriors is “as boring as all the other musou games.” Its a 40/100, the lowest grade by nearly 30 points. Without it (again, the shoddiness of Metacritic is exposed), Fire Emblem Warriors would be “in the green” and plainly above 70. When you do any good dive into some research on the genre, you’ll see a lot of people on the forums own several next-gen musou games. When one drops, people eat ‘em up. To claim that an entry is “boring like the others” is a bit too subjective my tastes.

One of the best comments I read was from a user who exclaimed he needed “something mindless” like “EDF” (Earth Defense Force) or Dynasty Warriors after he’d just finished Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey, a notoriously bloated experience. The idea that there are different games and different genres to be played at different times is something I love exploring. It’s like the varying flavors of a fine meal, or even a diet spread out over weeks, months or even your entire year. In gaming we talk about absolutes too much: which is the best console? Which genres do you play? What’s the game of the year? What’s your Top 5? There should be multiple answers to all of these, all the time. As we witness more and more toxicity in the games industry, I can’t help but think embracing a genre like musou could be the key to expanding our perspectives.

Now I don’t mean musou explicitly. I mean find your musou. Honestly, I’ll play any genre given the right circumstances. For someone who doesn’t play sports games, I would happily buy Fifa if you told me I had a crew who wanted to play it online. I never thought I could be into Rocket League, but Playstation made it free and then I went on to get the Platinum Trophy because my mates and I had such a good time. Things are highly elastic when it comes to games and their genres. But sometimes we see them as more rigid, and the only absolute here is that they absolutely aren’t.

Exhibit B: Maneater. Here’s a $40 game from Deep Silver that’s somewhere in that AA space. A lot of people knocked it for being repetitive, but again: let’s embrace it for what it is. Intention is often ignored when reviewing games and not only do critics need to work on this, but users too. People rely heavily on other people’s impressions of a game to know if it’s fundamentally fine. Ripping on something for being too repetitive, too short, or too confusing will turn people off. I’ll be the first to admit I stayed away from Fallen Order and Control because I read they had performance issues. While I eventually ended up doing FO as a gameclub with a buddy, my experience was 100% hindered by chugging framerates and long load times. I’m still disappointed I’ll be waiting for Control until I can play it on Playstation 5, but I know my enjoyment will increase ten-fold if I can be patient. But when a game like Maneater is designed as more of a quick pick-up-and-play title, is calling it “repetitive” very fair? Should it have been reviewed through a lens of “play through its entirety as quick as possible?”

Exhibit C: Ghost of Tsushima. The new Playstation exclusive drops this Friday (7/17) and critics are mostly enjoying it. Some of the “less than stellar” reviews I’ve seen, though, fault it for some shoddy presentation in the wake of The Last of Us Pt 2. Which, again, I think is unfair. Comparing Tsushima to TLOU2 doesn’t seem very applicable. TLOU2 is in a league of its own in terms of budget, scope and talent. While Suckerpunch is well-regarded, they are by no means Naughty Dog. Even Insomniac seems to have eclipsed them a bit, growing with nearly every game they release. Suckerpunch, in my mind, sort of knows where their playground is and sticks to it. Which, again, isn’t a bad thing. It’s been some time since I’ve played an open-world game that really drew me in. Ghost of Tsushima’s aesthetic seems ripe for picking, and when a critic mentioned that it doesn’t seem to break any new ground for the genre, I kinda have to throw my hands up and go, “So?” When’s the last time you got to roam Japan as a ghostly samurai? Doesn’t that maybe count as “inventive” enough? For example, if we got Grand Theft Auto, exactly as it is, but set in London, Tokyo, or maybe even Russia, I’d finally have an interest in the series. Somewhere international sounds tantalizing. What’s more is that Japanese critics seem to be loving Ghost and a lot of that stems from it’s overall design aesthetic. Most critics, anywhere, have said it’s a really beautiful game. Sometimes isn’t a game worth playing just because it’s stunning to look at? Rez Infinite is a prime example of something that is fleeting yet remarkable. The original PS2 game may be in the package, but it’s the Area X that’s the real prize and it’s absolutely less than a 30 minute experience. But that’s the thing: it’s an experience. In no way would I ever look at what’s being offered and go, “It’s too short.” Too short by what comparison? Did I love what was offered, yes or no?

As time marches forward, I can’t help but continually feel like games journalism is slowly deteriorating and fan expectations are completely out of whack. One look at the “price increase” debate clearly shows fans don’t understand capitalism, value, and scope. Colin Moriarity, from Sacred Symbols, very openly supports the debate that you aren’t going to see any CEOs trying to let go of their profits. The argument that games’ prices shouldn’t go up because people at the top are rich enough is completely against the entire framework of our society. The concept that businesses are meant to grow is completely fine, in my book, and as game prices haven’t gone up to reflect inflation, we could probably at least do that much for our industry, right?

I think the most tantalizing part of this argument is that not all games are profitable. As dev cycles become longer and more expensive, we need to give studios the ability to invest in smaller projects and maybe even risky ones. Without a bunch of overhead capital, we will see an industry that becomes totally stagnant, devoid of unique offerings. The big players will continue to hit hard and the money-makers will continue to roll out. So expect Assassin’s Creed, Fortnite, Call of Duty and Halo for the rest of eternity (plus whatever Naughty Dog does). For some gamers that’s probably totally cool and fine. But I’m not one of those players. I would mostly stop gaming if all I had to look forward to were games as services or check-box open-world games. These styles are popular because fans love the insane amount of hours they can pour into one investment. Publishers love them because recreating assets and scenarios gets pretty easy for the titles after a certain point. But this can’t represent the entire climate. While I didn’t love Death Stranding, I’m so happy it exists. I’m ecstatic that this game emerged and took as many chances as it did. I’m thrilled Naughty Dog was allowed to take the gambles it did with TLOU2. Even look at Dreams: every person who loves dreams should be embracing a $70 price point because that kind of experience will not exist if companies aren’t extracting profit. Because you know what else? Those money-grubbers will never let go of their profit. Our experience will diminish greatly before they see lower dividends. So consider paying in a way to ensure the industry thrives in the way you want to see fit. Which I think is the heart of the matter.

We control this industry. Don’t like MTX or DLC? Don’t buy it. Don’t want it in your face? Don’t purchase or support those games. If you’re like me and you want a wide genre of games available to you at all times, consider being pro-price increase. Also consider buying games right as they come out. Too many people pirate or wait for sales. Yet those are the same people not in favor of a price increase. Those types of consumers are already hurting the industry. Think of all the people getting fat on free content who never pay a dime for their games. Those people are also trying to weigh in on something they don’t really support to begin with. Publishers have been, ostensibly, trying to charge you nearly $100 per game for several years now with their Deluxe Editions and DLC. If you’ve ever thought this “price-gouging” was ridiculous, consider why it exists in the first place that isn’t related to the tired argument of, “they’re greedy.”

Games are a total luxury. And the people who will determine the future of this medium are the people who actually pay for this luxury. The argument that “you can’t afford it” isn’t appropriate, in my mind. While I sympathize with the notion that it sucks having to pay $60 or even $70 for a new game (especially one that might not be very good), you have to consider what these games cost to create. And if people want today’s offerings to be $20, $30 or $40, it’s simply not realistic. Additionally, we want all different kinds of games, too, right?

I do believe that’s the crux of the argument: I want to be able to play Hyrule Warriors, Sonic Forces, The Last of Us Pt 2, and Ghost of Tsushima. These games are not created equally. While TLOU2 might be a sales giant, Ghost is unproven. It’s got Suckerpunch behind it, but that’s a brand new IP coming out at the end of the Playstation’s lifecycle. If you want more games and more risks like this, you’ve gotta purchase the titles representing these decisions. I love that Hyrule Warriors and Fire Emblem Warriors both exist for me to play. If the ecosystem isn’t supported properly, we don’t get these options. We might get one huge hitter from the “Warriors” franchise instead of a handful. We might get one exclusive from Playstation in any given year. And the reason I emphasize this shrinking of the industry is because not only are publishers reaching for a price increase, but industry leaders have also come out saying things aren’t sustainable on a $60 per game price point. If you truly examine the argument, it just doesn’t make sense. I paid $60 for Killzone 3 on PS3 and TLOU2? No, that doesn’t add up. God of War (PS4) and Horizon Zero Dawn are valued the same as something like Homefront (PS3)?

The other side of this argument suggests that we could try and explore more price points... but I stand by the notion that Homefront probably did cost $60 at the time. It wasn’t trying to be a budget title. But as we’ve gone forward in time, gaming experiences have expanded exponentially. I truly believe that something like TLOU or Ghost probably do need to extract more than $60 from their users. Yet below that price point, there’s a lot more room for investigation. We need to see more Maneaters and Hellblades. Think of all the quality content Supergiant Games has made (Bastion, Transistor, Pyre, Hades) that have come out at “budget” price points... There is a great exploration of content type and price that can (and probably should) emerge as we head into the great unknown.

At the end of the day, I just love gaming. I love it. It’s my favorite thing in the world. And I want to see it thrive. The reality is that money talks. In my life I’ve seen only the benefits of paying for goods and services versus taking things for free or if they are offered at a steep discount. Great things should and do carry real value. We need to respect that value in all things. My hope is that the gaming community can see this in their hobby and start to respect it more. Because so far, anyone I’ve engaged with in this conversation, has not once said they pay full price for their games. I listed Doom Eternal on the Facebook Marketplace and people are upset I’m charging $30, free shipping, when the cheapest it exists on Amazon is $41 + shipping used. eBay is roughly the same price and Gamefly has a copy for $39.99 right now, used. I told one guy I just listed it and that I’d like to try and get $30 since it’s the cheapest I can find. He retorted, “Yeah, brand new maybe.” Doom Eternal is still $60 on Amazon, Best Buy and Gamestop. I know that my experience is in a vacuum-- all of our experiences are. But we need to discuss them so that the anecdotal evidence can tip in one way or the other. And this experience with Doom is not the first time I’ve witnessed gamers being completely out of touch with prices and value.

I used to work for a used goods store called Half Price Books. I learned full-on what the value of something is to a re-seller and the life cycle of an item getting marked down and potentially sent to clearance. For every product that sells at full price, several others go to the bargain bin. This means HPB was either breaking even or losing money on most items. Re-couping costs on those top-shelf commodities is essential to the business and it’s vital to most capitalist ecosystems. HPB can only survive thanks to the people who see an item they want, understand its value, and pay the price we initially set. Every company trying to sell you something is basically operating the same way. And what I also learned from HPB is that people don’t understand what their own possessions are worth. People would get upset a lot that we wanted to pay so little. Gamers have been facing this for decades with second-hand shops like Gamestop, EB Games and more. But what people fail to see is that most stuff is crap. And not only is most stuff crap, but if the good stuff does come around, the business officially has to make up for missed or lost sales somehow and your awesome item needs to be purchased and sold for a price point that helps the business.

Just take a look at TLOU2 versus Days Gone. Similar games, both exclusive first-party titles. One sold extraordinarily well, one did not. Playstation literally needs TLOU2 to dominate so a game like Days Gone can get a chance. While the profit numbers will show TLOU2 to be a massive hit, that money helps out in other sectors, bolstering the entire platform. The people who worked very hard on the game deserve those bonuses coming their way. They deserve the champagne glasses that say “The Last of Us Pt 2″ on them with commemorative decor. Imagine if you slaved away on something for your job and at the end your boss said, “Great job,” and that’s all you got. Don’t you want a pizza party? Or an extra check in the mail? Or even a new mug?

We gotta pay for the things we love so the things we love can continue being labors of love. Real people are needed to create the experiences we cherish so much and respecting them comes down to understanding the value of what we choose to play every day. If you comprehend the value of what’s on your big screen TV, paying more for games shouldn’t sting too much. Because if you’re anything like me, you don’t even have the time to buy every new game that comes out. I rarely pay full-price for a game because I’m so busy digging through backlog titles that have often been on sale for several months already. But when games like FFVII: Remake or Ghost of Tsushima do come along, I’m really happy to be first in line, paying the full-price of admission. I just wish more of my fellow gamers felt that way. Because I’ve heard all the other arguments; I’ve heard ‘em. I don’t buy into them at all. We vote with our wallets and whatever issues you have with the industry when it comes to “greed,” consider what you’re playing. I have had zero issues with microtransactions in my gameplay choices. If you, for some reason, are just appalled that MTX exists at all within a game, then I recommend you just check your baggage at the door. I paid full price for Persona 5: Royal which has all kinds of things I can buy on the side to bolster my experience. I haven’t touched those add-ons, I don’t plan to touch them and they, in no way, have affected me playing P5R. You can feel the exact same way and don’t need to be upset that MTX exists simply because MTX exists. The next time you see it, consider what you paid for the game you’re playing. If it was anything less than full price, MTX is a great way to try and recoup the money they lost on your discounted cost. And if you did pay full price, think of all the people who didn’t or won’t. MTX exists so Atlus can publish / localize the next Persona everywhere they intend to. It ensures we get killer voice actors, great translations, and cool spin-offs. It helps create a vibrant community, something that exists well outside the bounds of the original game even.

Really, I just want the best game possible. All the time. When I play a really awesome, beautiful game, it usually takes my breath away. I’m consumed by it; totally entranced and in-love. To me that can cost more than $60. I spent 80 hours with FFVII: Remake. 80 hours, man. I was blown away for every second too. For about $100 a night + food, drink and excursions, I can go stay on a beach for the weekend. That’s easily around $500+, if not more. While they’re completely different experiences, FFVII:R had years of nostalgia baked into the mix. I would choose to play FFVII:R over many, many other kinds of experiences. Microdermabrasion? $80+. Date-night with a new fling? Easily $100+. 30 minute massage? $40 + tip. FFVII:R gave me 80 hours of pure joy and all I paid was $60. That’s a steal.

Just consider what you’re really getting when you buy your games. And if you feel like you’re already in my camp, then please share the love. I wanna know where my crew is at; where the homies are. Because video games are incredible. And the way the conversation is breaking down about price increases, it’s hard to tell if some people actually love games the way I do too. When you really love something, you want the best for it; you aren’t cynical towards it. It’s my belief that the games industry, by and large, is not out to screw us, it’s just trying to find ways to be viable for years to come. If you don’t like the way it’s trying to thrive, don’t support those ways. But you gotta support something; saying that games need to be “cheaper” isn’t really an option. Because games have never been much cheaper than this when you factor in inflation. We got to have our cake and eat it for a long, long time. Now we gotta pony up.

#price increase #gaming #industry #money #capitalism

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