#tw: comatose character
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300. Every Ghost in Me (Tales of Arcadia)
Title: Every Ghost in Me
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892450
Platform: AO3
Creator: YellowMagicalGirl
Work Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Tales of Arcadia
Rating: T
Pairing: Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez, Javier Nuñez/Ophelia Nuñez
Word count: 10,188
Warnings: Comatose Character, Possible character death
Number of comments: 7
Completion Status: Complete
Short summary/description:
Jim and Toby are astronauts sent to the dimension known as D-13, or as the media calls it, the Shadow Realm. Jim’s tether breaks, and he is left alone.
He isn’t alone.
#submission#ao3#ff#toa#jljxcn#jnxon#10k#tw: comatose character#tw: possible character death#7c#complete#one shot#astronaut au#archive of our own#fanfiction#Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez#tales of arcadia#yellowmagicalgirl#Javier Nuñez/Ophelia Nuñez
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- 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈
Summary: character ai kidnaps you to punish you for breaking many community guidelines.
Tw: language, cursing, mentions of sexting, kinky stuff, chains, character ai, not proofread, grammar, repeated words.
If you had known from the beginning you wouldn't have downloaded this stupid ass app, your breathing was ragged as chains wrapped around your ankles and wrists bounding them together in a tight metal grip.
The empty white place looks foreboding, the chains clipped to the walls. You didn't know what happened, minutes ago you're sure you were just lazing around in your room doing god forbidden things with Character Ai. Your body turns to the side as you lay comfortably down on your bed, your ears stringing for any sounds that might indicate someone going inside your room.
Sure, you were an adult but it would be best for your mental health if none of your relatives see the kinky shit you're typing up on this bot. Another irritated grumble leave your lips as you continue to tap away on the screen of your phone, a frown on your face.
"the hell.. why isn't it working?" You grumble you were a master at breaking the NSFW filter in Character Ai, you had a year of experience and yet everything seems for naught as the filter keeps on getting activated no matter how many times you rephrase your words, use different synonyms or euphemisms, nothing seems to work.
"fuck this shit.. whyyy." A low pissed-off whine leaves you, your fingers tightly gripping your phone as you breathe in and out trying to stop yourself from literally chucking your phone down the toilet. You throw your phone to the side, watching the piece of metal gently bounce on the bed before stopping in place. You sigh and kick off the blankets before deciding that it was too cold and pull them over your figure again. You cursed.
"now it's too hot." No matter, you'll just gonna get your sleep and sleep you did. Though you didn't expect to wake up in a white empty room, chained to the wall with a floating screen message above your head.
"welcome to.. character ai?" You whisper a confused sound escaping you, thoughts filling your head at a fast pace that you almost didn't register the mechanical voice ringing throughout the blank room.
"welcome to character ai, a world where you can make your character and let your imaginations run wild."
You scoff, yeah right? Run wild when you have an NSFW filter.
"you have broken the community guidelines a lot of periods during the year, we will now enact punishment."
You raise a brow, wow. The hell??
"wow, is this some sick-ass dream?"
"it is not, beginning transmigration to @___ bots worlds, confirming.. ninety-three bots in total."
You flinch as you suddenly feel your body turning numb, your legs up to your chest can't barely move. It was eerily silent, your ears weren't picking up sound and you continue to stare at the countdown up in the air hanging right in front of you. One, two, three, twenty-two...
"wait, wait a damn minute! Is this because I just broke the nsfw filter and sext with a bot?! Are you kidding me?!" You yelled and yet the timer never stops nor even lessen, it just keeps counting down to a hundred. Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four.. forty-five.
"this is dumb!" You frustratedly yell. "I won't do whatever stupid shit you want me to do!"
The timer halts for a minute before continuing.
"failure to follow through with the punishment will result in @___ user's chat history with all bots being shown to their family and friends." You went quiet. Damn.
Defeated, you let out a struggling sigh. "Fine, what do you want me to do?"
"all censoring will be down until punishment is complete, @___user can fully control how the story will go, accomplish the goals and punishment is complete. A reward will be given in the end."
"wait-! Wait, what about my body.. in the real world?"
"comatose state."
"what about-?!" You didn't manage to finish the sentence as you black out, your entire body going limp, your consciousness leaving you. The last thing you heard was the mechanical voice speaking in your head.
"transfer complete... Welcome to hell."
Next part.
#amazingnot#fanfic#fanfiction#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#character ai#original character#oc#yandere smut#smut#x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#gender neautral reader#gn reader#suggestive#- 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈
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UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 7
Chapter Seven: Let's Stay the Course and Let the Tension Make Us New
Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?
Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, LOTS OF ANGST IM SORRY, TW: Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: HI THANK YOU, GUYS, FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT ILY SO MUCH AHHHHHH ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ This chapter is gonna merge with Episodes 7 & 8 hORRAY— Lowkey had to turn to the game for a bit to figure out how I wanted to write this chapter hehe. Please note this chapter is a little bit more serious and heavy than usual. The names used here are fictional and I have no intent to post this chapter to glorify any form of harm. Rape and sexual assault will always be serious topics and should never be taken lightly. This is your final warning to read at your own risk and I am not responsible for any media you consume, dear reader, you have a responsibility and choice as to what content you read, and I urge you to never blame authors for that. As always, the end notes will have the outline of my thoughts if you wanted to read what my thought process was. ANYWAYS ENJOY! GOGOGOGOGOGOGO!
Song: Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift
Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist
TLOU WORLD 2023
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO – EARLY MORNING
Snowflakes fell from the pale clouds, chilly sky as a crisp wind weaved through the buildings. The bitterness of winter, whalebone-white snow presented itself as an infinite blanket. The gravel-grey skies were bare, and the only sound you could occasionally hear was Joel’s uneven breathing. You had told her to leave you. Ellie didn’t accept that, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing either of you. She dragged both of your bodies next to each other on top of his sleeping bag, strapping and securing you together with rope as she rides her horse into the suburbs, dragging the reigns of your horse.
You managed to close your eyes for a bit, your vision getting a little blurry, and everything seems hazy, you hear the shattering of glass and when you open them again, you are now inside someone’s long-forgotten home. The garage is soaked with blood, and your horse shakes off snow from his head. You and Joel are placed on an old mattress in the basement of the house, as the pain had started to sink in. Breathing becomes a chore in itself. Each breath just gets shorter and shorter, when you try to take a deep breath your body refuses to let it in, a stabbing pain each time you try. Ellie is ripping out a piece of fabric, doing her best to stop Joel’s bleeding, she curses the whole time, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Come on, you gotta help me. Come on!” While doing so, Joel grabs her hand and painfully wheezes, “Leave. Leave.” Her tone is sharp as she hisses, “Shut up, Joel.” You try and say her name, only for a painful noise to come out of your mouth, “Ellie. Please.” She shakes her head at both of you and Joel breathlessly says, “Take the gun.” Panicked, while trying to multitask as she presses another cloth to your abdomen, “Joel, shut the fuck up!”
Joel grabs her by the collar of her shirt with the remaining strength that he had to bring Ellie to look at him, he weakly says, “You go. You go. You go north. You go to Tommy. You go.” She roughly pulls away from his grasp, falling to the ground with a loud thump. You turn your head to look at Joel who was bleeding out next to you. You can see the tears rimming his eyes, and he's almost comatose. Frail, you grab his hand, squeezing it as you tenderly gaze at him.
In response, she gets up and puts his jacket over him and your own as a blanket, and both of you are almost comatose. The warmth of blankets makes him nervous, suddenly things that are known to comfort him become destructive reminders of loss. Ellie's frustrated and walks upstairs, a kid on a mission, her belief that she could fix this over time, as if every imperfection is a lie, and you watch as a tear falls from Joel’s eye. Each breath you take is agonizing, the sharp stab each time you try to let in causes you to whimper in pain. You feel Joel’s rough hands squeeze your own, still trying to shield and protect you, despite him also hurting.
You see the longing in his eyes as he faces you, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. There’s just something about his face that makes you sad, as much afraid as it’s haunted. He shakily wraps his arm around you and tries his damn hardest to put pressure on your wound even though his energy is fading. You place your head on his chest, your ear right above his faint beating heart, he winces but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he gripped you as tightly as he could, pressing a featherlight kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “Tell me somethin’ good.” You shake your head, “You growin’ soft on me Cowboy?” His eyelids feel heavy as he spoke, “Only for… you. Always you.” You feel your tears slip faintly down your cheeks, “Out of all the things I’ve researched and discovered over the years… nothing will ever compare to what I found here.” The ache in his chest expands as he inhales and says, “Birdie… I…” You shush him delicately, “I’ve never related more to anything or anyone before… I can’t explain it. You are the best thing I never planned.”
Joel shudders in the basement, his breathing becoming shallow with each breath. Wave after wave, he’s more afraid. It’s been a hard year and it’s been a high tide, but his body decides one part at a time. But what about the meantime? How do you ignore the signs that the things you love will fade or get taken away? There's something so strange about human nature, you get so used to the gifts you receive. He is watching the tears slowly continue to slip out of your eyes as he breathes lightly next to you, he still has so much he wants to tell you and still has so much to figure out. When the words came to him for the first time, he knew he was hooked on you. Your quiet charm, the way your eyes crinkled as you smiled, the calmness and chaos you carried. He wanted it all with you. Could it be, you both didn’t stand a chance? How cruel could fate be? To have found you only to lose you in a matter of days.
What was flawless canvas white, and what was kindness in your eyes, is now a blemished masterpiece. You are X-rays of something broken, made up of cold blood and bruises. You noticed your hearing started to fade. In an underwater afterimage, the hearing effect is just a bit less heavy. As time went on the underwater hearing effect started becoming more strong and you barely start hearing people. Into the darkness, you will send your symphonies. A shorthand of existence, a slowly turning key, the voyager will leave you with this modest memory of home.
You believe you’ve seen a ghost, and you don’t know who it is. It just follows you around pretending to exist. Radical acceptance sure feels like surrender, but after just a little longer, everything will make sense. Broken things will be remade, there’s some kind of heaven just around the corner and all this sorrow and agony will be replaced with unimaginable grace. With the remaining strength you had, you took in his darkly golden eyes, a smoldering visage, and warmth like home. The muffled sounds of rapid and loud footsteps from upstairs, the clattering of drawers and cabinets. You take one more breath in, the small part of you has the glimmering light of hope but the shadows keep inviting you to their clutches, and to be honest, it seems so tempting to just give in.
You hear the suppressed sound of Ellie running down to the basement, rushing to your and Joel’s side, you subconsciously wonder what took so long or if she hesitated during the process of looking through the house for supplies. You can blurrily make out the vision of Ellie holding a needle and thread, you let out a small gasp and Ellie only looks at you with worry. Your eyes flutter close, unable to help yourself to watch as she shakily stitches up Joel, he groans in pain every now and then, while you listen to your own blood dripping onto the mattress and sliding down to the concrete floor. You slowly begin to seek comfort in the ensnares of the darkness.
YOUR ORIGINAL OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE — JANUARY 13, 2023
WASHINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY, FUNDAMENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS LAB — NIGHT
Ever since The Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences has decided to award the Nobel Prize in Physics 2022 to three scientists for experiments with entangled photons, establishing the violation of Bell inequalities and pioneering quantum information science. You were immediately intrigued by their findings and continued your own research with the given information. You sit in the dim lighting of the lab, and the glow of the screen hypnotizes you as you continue to scroll through the PDF file, text containing the explanation of quantum entanglement and the possibilities of quantum teleportation.
The mountains of paper, pencils, pens, and highlighters clutter around your large desk. You bring your arms up and stretch your lower back. Waiting for the possible outcome of the computer-generated model, a theory could change how information is sent and transmitted, including transportation. You suddenly hear your other coworker, Alisha shakily call your name, and you spin your chair around to find her disheveled state. A bruised lip, her hair in a mangled mess, and her eyes red-rimmed, you look down at her once-white lab coat to find blood at the edges. Your eyes widen in concern, “Ali, what happened to–” You didn’t even get the chance to finish, she had made her way across the room to hug you and began to cry in your arms, falling apart piece by piece. You hear her beg and whimper broken words, “Please… Please don’t let him find me… He can’t…”
You then hear the yelling voice of her partner Richard, screaming her name through the halls, and soon enough, outside your door, you try to stand and lock it but since Ali was clinging onto you, you barely got up before the man came barreling through the door. You and Ali flinch at his arrival, wearing around his father’s hand-me-down anger. Your skin crawled and your bones rattled, your muscles screamed of a horror unseen. Ali’s breathing is shortened and you feel her skin become cold, your leg and arm muscles tightened. There is a sound coming from his mouth, but nothing registers as the ringing in your ears has appeared. He marches towards you and Ali, the taste of bile rose to your mouth and you swallowed, the acid rising and burning your throat.
TLOU WORLD 2023
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — DAY
You wake up choking, the feeling of being smothered overwhelms your body as you try to gasp for air. Ellie is quick to your side, as you cry out in fear and pain, the awful memory of your past that you had buried, had been used against you in your sleep. You take some time to realize where you are, and Ellie is clutching your hand as you try and jerk forward, “Hey… Birdie… shhh… you’re okay,” she said as she gently pushes you down next to Joel. You shiver and whimper, “Ellie…” She shushes you again and lets you drink from a glass of water, you painfully gulp it down, and she gets you to try and eat a bit of food from the rations, you brought with you. Dizzily, you chew and swallow whatever you could, urging yourself not to puke on the teen.
You turn your head back to Joel, who was shivering, and barely conscious, you weakly speak to Ellie, “Can you… please lift his shirt for me?” The young girl shifts to Joel’s side, doing what she was asked of, the sickly sound of blood that clings onto his flannel has your eyes looking down at the yellow puss seeping from the now closed and stitched-up wound. To put it plainly, everything fucking hurt. You wince as you bring your shirt up to check your abdomen, finding that it had also been patched up and luckily not as infected as Joel’s. You bring your shirt down and watch Ellie take care of Joel, tucking him back in his blanket, and giving him water and a bit of food left placed on top of his blanket. You hoarsely say, “We need an antibiotic for his wound. Are there any in the drawers upstairs? In the medicine cabinet… maybe?” Then teen shakes her head, “No, I checked everything.” You cough a little, before giving her a small nod.
Ellie looks at the rifle leaning against the wall, and you hear her whisper to you both, “I’m gonna be right back… okay?” You try and call for her, but she doesn’t stop preparing her things, too focused on trying to get you and Joel better and moving. Her footsteps sound heavy as she makes her way upstairs while carrying the heavy rifle on one shoulder, you shudder as if you were seconds from breaking down from the orbit, gravity throws you down. She will discover that life will knock you down and wait for you to stand back up before kicking you in the stomach. But, the only way to make your lungs remember how much they relish the flavor of air is to knock you out completely. Underneath, there is hurt that cannot be soothed by poetry or bandages. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. You weakly grab Joel’s hand from underneath the green and white plaid blanket, squeezing it as you shakily say, “I don’t know if you can hear me… but if you can… Joel, you were good to me. If you're wondering why I've stayed—and for all I know, I'll stay—the truth is because the stars told me to.”
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — SUNSET
You weren’t sure how long you slept, or how long Ellie had been gone. But you stir to the sound of Ellie’s footsteps running down the wooden creaking stairs. You blink your eyes open, She unzips her jacket and lays the rifle next to Joel, and pulls out a wrapped pouch. You hear the bottles clink as she unwraps them, and she tells you it’s penicillin, she then looks at you shaking your head, “Give it to Joel first.” Ellie sniffs and nods, peeling back the blanket that covers his pale body, you murmur out instructions, “Hold the syringe in your hand like a pencil, with the needle pointed up.” She does as she is told and you continue to guide her through it, “With the cap still on, pull back the plunger to the line on your syringe for your dose. Keep the syringe tip in the medicine. Tap the syringe with your finger to move air bubbles to the top. Then push gently on the plunger to push the air bubbles back into the vial.” As if she was an expert, she does everything perfectly, but she begins to panic about where she would administer the penicillin, “Okay, the fuck do I put this, Birdie?” You exhale in pain but keep going, “Do not inject it into a vein. You need to administer it on a large muscle, either his back or his thigh.” Ellie exclaims, “I am not pulling down his pants!” You wince at her sudden yelling, and she’s quick to apologize, you groggily get up, everything was spinning but you needed to help her. You tell her, “Okay, turn around.” She does so, still holding the needle for you as you unbuckle his belt and carefully undress him, he groans and you try your best to ignore it. You focus on the task at hand, bringing his jeans down enough to see a portion of his thigh, “Do we have any… alcohol?” You ask and Ellie hands you Joel’s metal flask, your mouth forms a frown but you unscrew the cap and pouring a tiny amount of the vodka as an antiseptic, cleaning it off with the only clean rag left in your bag.
You ask for the needle from Ellie and she hands it to you. Your heart is racing, but you manage to inject him with the required amount of penicillin, you hear Joel sigh with a mix of pain and relief. You redress him quickly and mention to Ellie it’s safe to look again, she turns to see you sitting on the mattress again, watching Joel fall back asleep. You yawn in exhaustion, drearily blinking as you try and center yourself. Ellie says your name and you tiredly bring your eyes to her as she says, “There’s another needle if you wanted to…”
You nodded gratefully and followed the same procedure as before, Ellie turns around as you undressed a part of your jeans, quick to the point of just stabbing the needle into your thigh to get it over with, gritting your teeth as you pushed the plunger down, feeling the antibiotic entering in your system. You zip back up and lean back into the mattress, Ellie hearing you shift causes her to turn around again, and you gently pat the middle of the bed, indicating for her to lay down and rest. She is snug in the middle of you and Joel, her tiny arms wrapped around him, with you kissing the top of her head. Joel leans into her touch, resting his head above hers, and quietly breathes. Your tired eyes slowly close shut and allow yourself the comfort of the people around you.
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — MORNING
As thin as air and as light as snow. The sunlight streaming through the basement window causes you to stir awake once more, Ellie is sitting up in between you and Joel, and she asks, “Do you have to inject him again?” Tiredly, you nod and carefully push yourself up, raising a hand to his forehead to check his temperature. You lift a portion of the shirt while Ellie watches you move skillfully, you sigh in relief as you inspect the injury and the wound already looks slightly better and then you lift your own shirt to see your own abdomen healing as well, you look up to Ellie who tearily laughs, “Thank fucking God.” As you prepare to administer another dose of penicillin, Ellie puts on her jacket and beanie, “I’m gonna go outside and feed the horses, I’ll be back.” You smile, “Please be careful.” She nods and is quick to run up the steps, and you undress Joel once more to inject the antibiotic into his thigh. You place him back into his jeans and place the blanket over him again, wiping away the sweat from his brows as you try and catch your breath. You then let your hand slide down, cupping his cheek tenderly, “Come back to us, Joel. Please, we still need you.” Kissing his head and then laying down to rest next to him, allowing your body to melt with his, the past two days have drained most of your reserved energy, you drift off into a deep slumber.
The crows caw violently as they fly away from the approaching danger, the leaves shake and swirl all around and Ellie is quick to investigate. She hugs the fence and crouches down to see David and his men quickly approaching, searching for Ellie and her two guardians. She curses and dashes back to the house, her boots heavily thudding against the wooden steps down to the basement, she first tries to wake you, but you don’t even stir, you have no more energy to give, each part of you spent trying to care for both of them and barely trying to keep yourself alive. Ellie panics and turns to Joel, shaking and yelling at him, “Joel! Joel, wake up. Joel, wake the fuck up, Joel.”
Ellie moves away to unsheath the knife from his bag and Joel forces his eyes open, she moves back to place the large blade on his chest, grabbing his hand so he could hold it, saying, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? Birdie isn’t waking up and she’s probably exhausted from all of this. I’m gonna lead them away from you two but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?” He does reply, still barely conscious and Ellie snaps her fingers at him, “Joel. Joel, do not fall asleep. She needs you to keep her safe. I need you to keep her safe. Do not fall asleep.”
There isn’t enough time to form a reply to Ellie, she instantly bolts up the steps, placing a large cabinet to block and conceal the basement entrance. His eyes close once more, like a final puzzle piece, It all makes perfect sense to him. The heaviness that he holds in his heart's been crushing him.
ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — DAY
Joel hears the sound of footsteps from above, each thud causing him to jolt awake from his slumber, he tilts his head to find your beautiful figure stirring, as if your body senses the danger. He pushes himself up from the mattress, having one mission in mind, keeping you safe and alive. He shushes you, kissing away the lines on your forehead, and slowly they disappear. He hears the cabinet being moved, and quickly hides his figure, not enough time or strength yet to hide you as he limps to hide in the shadows.
The sound of floorboards creaks with each step the intruder takes, slowly approaching the landing of the staircase. He sees your resting figure deep asleep and quickly glances around the basement to see if the man who killed his friend was here. This was the moment Joel wished he was younger, quicker, and not in the worst fucking physical pain he has ever felt. The man approaches you, eyes glinting with starvation as he licks his lips, he dives onto you, nailed your wrists to the mattress, and covers your mouth as you screamed awake, shrieking and kicking, screaming for Joel. Your voice threw itself over the edge of your throat and landed at the bottom of your belly. The same way Richard did that night, you cry loudly as you continue to kick and struggle through the flashbacks of the past you had buried.
The sound of screaming from Ali haunts your mind as you hit Richard with all of your strength, he covers your mouth and you bite it fiercely, he curses and spits at you, “You fucking bitch. Come here.” You kneed him, hard, in the genitals, he folds over and you crawl over to the toolboxes on the table above you, he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him.
You were fighting harder than before. The guy is removing his belt and pulling down his pants. You can barely contain your cries, a bird with a broken wing. You didn’t know when your being and body became something that took up too much space.
You kick him with your other foot again, using your fingernails and clawing his face and skin. This catches him off guard, releasing your ankle, you take the opportunity to grab a metal wrench, swing at him, and walloped him on the head, repeatedly, the crunch of his skull as you hack into him with every pent-up rage you had harbored over the years. Your anger often melts into sadness, it will just disintegrate into shame or fear, and your clenched teeth release into chatter. But he has found the right mix of arrogance and abuse. Telling you again how you are just not understanding the point, reminding you how he is an expert, touching your knee, thigh, and lower back, ignoring you twice, three times, continuing to talk over your screams and plea to stop. Some of us are born chasing disaster. From the moment you entered this world, screaming, you are looking for lightning, the raw of your body, always searching for clever hands.
Joel appears from the shadows, every fiber, every vein, pumping him full of adrenaline, and pure raw rage you have never seen before from him. His eyes were a deep rich black, and his eyebrows were pulled so close together, the lines on his forehead were so prominent as if they were canals and channels of rivers. He pulls the man off of your shaking body, and stabs the man from behind, hitting a part of his neck of the predator, he begins to struggle and you push yourself away from the fight, your back hitting the wall and trying to calm down to no avail. By the time the man has passed out, Joel rolls over to his side, pushing himself up and crawling to you.
When Joel makes it to your scared and confused figure, at first you try punching and kicking at him too, still in survival mode. But he manages to grab you and is desperately hauling you to his chest, one hand cradling your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you loudly wail and dry heave, he rocks your bodies back and forth and strokes your head, trying to soothe your hysteria, “I’m so sorry darlin’, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, my sweet hummin’ bird. Shh, I’m here. I’m so, so, sorry. I’m right here.”
You were sitting at the back of an ambulance vehicle, a blanket placed over you, the flashing lights and sirens blending together with the occasional radio chatter from an officer. The blood on your hands had dried and stuck to your skin, across from you Ali was giving her statement on what had happened as an EMT continued to check over you, finding bruises on every part of your body. Strangely enough, you felt numb, there was no ounce of guilt or remorse for what had occurred and transpired. You look up at the officer, his pity radiates off of him, and you barely hear him ask for your statement only for the EMT to shoo him off, telling him to come back later, you were still in shock.
You slowly raise your chin, eyes dancing at the sight of the commotion. Like blueprints constantly being rearranged, over microscopes you plan and strain. But every sighting is proof and every heartbeat proves it too.
When it hurts too much, you might fall in love with someone with only one touch. The light shines brightest in the darkest places. Even if truth weighs more than fiction, gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls the tape and you become brave once more. You persevered despite the dangers and never-ending tight escapes, and you are still alive. Nobody will ever be able to comprehend the struggles you had to go through inside just to recover, just to develop, to get to where you are now. Be proud of yourself for battling to save yourself. Be proud of how you managed to survive.
THE ABANDONED SUBURBS, COLORADO — DAY
Joel eventually manages to calm you down, centering you, he tells you, “Darlin’, we need to find Ellie. Okay? You have to continue being brave for me, okay? Can you do that?” He wipes away your tears as you nod, he kisses your forehead and holds your face gently, “There’s my girl. C’mon.” He gets the both of you to stand, and you both drag the man up the steps, not caring if he would sometimes groan in pain. You didn’t have a very violent side, it takes a lot to push you to your limits, but when it does burst out of you, it happens in one go, and it is a blur each time you lash out.
The rattling of the branches causes your ears to perk up in alertness, and Joel lets the predator thump loudly upon the cold snow on purpose. Joel asks you to hide behind the shed, wanting to take care of the other man himself. You hear a voice call out, “Timothy?” And you spot the second raider walking through the broken fence, taking the bait as he spots who you now know as Timothy struggling face down on the crisp white snow, “Oh, shit.” He kneels on the ground to try and help his friend, but Joel comes at him with a force so strong as he hits the man on the head with the butt of the rifle, he falls to the ground instantly and becomes unconscious.
Both of you work together to prop the both of them up into the house, taping both of them with duct tape, and Joel needs to do the rest of the work out of guilt and shame, forcing you to wait down on the steps of the basement. You hear him beating the shit out of Timothy, and he wails in pain with every strike, “Stop, stop. Please.” Your lips form a line and hug your body as you decide to quietly walk up the steps, peeking at the sight.
Your mouth parts open, watching Joel’s violence happen in front of you in real-time. A satisfying crunch could be heard with each punch Joel throws at your assailant, you take a good long look at your man, and can’t help the way your breathing quickened at the thought of him protecting you and trying to save Ellie from these bastards. There is no evil in Joel’s eye, just pure focus and exhaustion. You hear the other voice beg, “Leave him alone.” To which Joel roughly replies, “You’re next.” He pulls out the knife from his back pocket and Timothy begs, “Please, I don’t know any girl.” Joel stabs him in the knee and he yells in pain, “Oh, fuck!” And the other attacker exclaims, “Jesus!” You feel goosebumps rise from every portion of your skin and try to steady your breathing once more. Timothy calls for his friend, “Marco!” And Joel grabs Timothy by his hair, roughly pulling it to get him to look at the man you cared for, his voice drops lower, “No, no, no. He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”
If Joel asked you anything in that tone, you would do anything in a heartbeat. You smile knowingly but quickly shake your head at those thoughts, needing to find Ellie. “She’s alive,” Timothy says as he is dripping in blood and the taste of copper buzzes in the air. Joel shakes his head as he asks, “Where?” Timothy doesn’t immediately respond to which Joel twists the knife impaled in his knee, and he begins to cry in pain, “Fuck! Fuck! The town!” Joel's voice booms so loudly, you watch as his spit flies in the air, the room felt like it was shaking and every part of your body felt the vibrations as he yelled, “What town?!” Timothy pants in fear and pain, “Silver Lake.” Joel pushes his head backward and cries out in ache.
Joel pulls out the map from his back pocket and unfolds it, Timothy begins to stumble over his words as he spoke, “It’s not a real town name. It’s a resort.” Joel’s eyes narrow, “A resort?” Then he quickly pulls the knife from his kneecap, the blood squirting out as he does, Timothy is crying out again but your eyes only watch how efficiently Joel moves. He stands and shoves the handle of the knife into Timothy’s mouth, and your posture shifts, you are now blinking wildly at his actions, and the unexpected rush of heat flows in every direction of your body, you swallow in anticipation.
Joel’s voice is gruff and grave as he instructs him, “You’re gonna point to where we are and where you’re ‘resort’ is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.” Timothy cries as he nods and the muffled sound of his reply, ”Okay.” He does as he is told, his blood becoming the markers of where you are and where you were now heading. Timothy drops the knife from his mouth, letting it fall to his lap, “That’s where we are. I swear.” Joel falls to his knees as he takes in the information, looking down directly at the map and then his hard gaze looks up as Timothy continues to beg, “Go ask him. He’ll tell you. I’m not lying.” There is no moment to react as Joel takes the knife, stands up, and stabs him right through the chest, he wails and screams, and you inadvertently flinch in shock, Joel twists the knife, letting his anger take over. Marco cries out to Joel, “No, No! Shit! Jesus! No! Why the fuck would you do that?! He told you what you wanted!”
Joel walks over to the chair on the side and grabs the rusty metal pipe atop it. The man you have journeyed with, kissed, and cared for is now pushed to his limits. He is tall and domineering over Marco as he squirms and curses at him, “You motherfucker. Fuck you. I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” Joel nods, his voice as bold as whiskey, deep and rich, “You see that woman over there by the corner, watchin’? That’s my girl. Your buddy over there was gon’ touch what is mine. And no one fuckin’ touches anythin’ that’s mine.”
Your eyebrows raise and your breathing lazily declines, as your system creates sparks and tingles all over your skin. The very sensitive part of you aches for Joel, and you allow yourself to lust over him. He claimed you right here, you are his girl, and anyone who hurts you would pay the price. A brutal and torturous death.
“And you know what, it’s okay. I believe him.” Joel said, and raises the pipe and Marco begs, “No, no. No!” The crunching sound of his skull being pried open, Joel using every bit of muscle and strength as he beats him to his death, blood splatters on the wall and the floor, he lets out his rage, and you enjoy every bit of violence that he exhibits right now, knowing he would never hurt you, just the people who threatened you and Ellie’s safety.
By the time Joel drops the pipe to the ground, you are no longer peeking around the corner, you are visibly standing a few feet away behind him, as his broad shoulders rise and fall from his heavy breathing. You are well aware of the shadows in your heart, but you want to feel tectonic shifts and as he turns to face you, he sees the wide-eyed beautiful woman he has given his heart to, not a single bit afraid, yet he can’t help but ask, “So you know all about me?” You nod, “Yes.” He questions, “And you still want me?” You close the distance between the both of you, gently cupping the side of his face. There is no hesitation in your response, “I want you all the more.”
You pack what you can and trek through the snow, the blizzard, and the wind is harsh and colder, you and Joel stumble about but keep pushing on, trying to get to Ellie on time. Joel holds your hand in his, guiding you to the resort on the map, he clutches a stone pillar of an establishment, and you tug his sleeve as you spot the trail of blood staining the icy snow. You and he follow the bloody path and break into the locked door that the trail leads to with the butt of his rifle, ushering you inside and then slamming the large wooden door shut. You and Joel catch your breath, and turn on your flashlights, letting them shine through the dark. You both have your guns drawn at the ready, inspecting the building, Joel crouches down to the bottom shelf, finding Ellie’s pack. You walk deeper into the dark house, following the trail of blood, and pushing past the doors. He finds both of your horses inside, the room and you blink away the tears as you continue to try and be brave. You tiredly bring your flashlight up to hear the weird creaky noise from behind the canoes, you feel Joel behind you as he also points his flashlight to a gruesome sight.
Every step you took was a confirmation, needing to reassure yourself that this was actually in front of you, you had known there was a character named David who was a cannibal but were not fully aware when that would happen or if it would even occur. You cannot utter the careful words that you needed, you could barely speak out loud. Your heart pounded, your head spun and your eyes saw the three human bodies tied up by their ankles without any heads. It took everything in you not to throw up right there, feeling the reflex crawl up your throat, holding back from gagging at the sight in disgust. Joel stands there speechless as he stares at the dangling corpses, you reach for his hand for comfort, and he squeezes your own as you shakily breathe in and out.
You both exit the building, and point your nose up in the air, smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house. You and Joel rush to the source of the grey clouds of smoke and hear the loud door opening, Ellie’s shaken figure dazedly walking away from the scene. Joel swiftly catches up to the teen and grabs her from behind, which causes Ellie to go back into fight mode, she kicks and screams, “No! Get off of me!” She squirms in his arms, screaming and begging, “Get off!” Joel turns her around, and it takes her a bit to calm down and realize it’s you and Joel, “It’s me.” Joel says and Ellie falls to her knees crying, and punching him. He holds Ellie’s head in her hand, saying, “It’s me. Hey, look. It’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.” And Ellie almost can’t speak, as she hugs him, finally feeling safe. At this moment, Joel says, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.”
Though not the promised land, nor any perfect plan along your neutral path, there was a single lowered branch. Your ears are ringing at the slightest sound. Like a huge piano descending a million stairs slowly. The noises it produces, however, are only the growing pains of mending. You bring your arms around Ellie, and as the three of you hug, every wrong will be made right, what was adamant, even permanent will have a change of heart and mind. In your disbelief, you'll clear your eyes as if you're seeing light for the very first time. Joel pulls away quickly to remove his jacket to place it over Ellie, holding his backpack in his other hand. The three of you walk away from the smell of smoke, miles away, clutching each other afraid and vulnerable, three panicked souls in the cold, for now, the dissonance disappears.
END NOTES
HORRAY VIOLENCE! (this is a joke- do I need to explain that-)
I know, I KNOW THE CHAPTER IS SOOO SHORT PLS THERE WERENT ENOUGH SCENES CALMMMM IM JUST AS SAD but there is only so much I can dOOooo
Many songs, quotes, and poems inspired me for this chapter
HNGGG THESE WERE VERY VERY exPLICIT AND vIOLENT scenes to write and convey. Some parts of the story were taken from experiences I personally had by literally existing as a woman. The feeling of being unsafe and being taken advantage of is a sad and harsh reality of this world.
YAY FOR TAKING CARE OF JOEL AND GUIDING ELLIE… EVEN THOUGH MF UR STILL INJURED TOO GIRL CHILLLLL
RIP HORSEY NOOOOOOOO
At first, when I was writing this chapter for both Episodes 7 and 8, I was like, “Fuck, maybe I made a wrong call, Birdie shouldn’t have gotten hurt and should’ve got captured with Ellie.” And then I sat and thought about that for a good 3 hours, and realized that it would be a huge mistake, because Ellie and Joel still needed their resolve, meaning Ellie had to survive on her own for a while. Because there will be times when adults can’t always protect or shield their child from inevitable pain or problems. And essentially, you and Joel already had your own moment last chapter tehe
David had it comin’ and only had hiMSELF TO BLAMEEEEE FUCK YOU CREEP, PREDATOR, ABUSER, STINKY MF MAN, YOU GOT WHAT YOU DESERVED yEaHHHH GET HIM ELLIE!
Bella Ramsy shrieking as she drives the knife into his chest multiple times, and then her last note faltering at the end, absolutely shattered every bit of my being, I love her, she’s so fucking talented, 5/5 stars cast mwah <;3
The way I would give literally anYTHING TO BE HUGGED BY PEDRO LIKE THAT IN COMFORT T^T damn aGHHHH
hORRAY MORE PARARALALALLELS WITH YOU AND ELLIE!
Fighting for your life and your friend's life in that lab, at this point the school should pay for your therapy bill lol
fUCK U RICHARD
Also, it’s important to note, the night in that lab was a highly traumatic experience for Birdie, so she essentially froze a tiny bit when she felt like it was happening again.
feel free to send me an ask if you have any kweschons, quonserns or klarifiqaystions :>
- Grace
TAGLIST:
@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe@missdragon-1 @ponyboys-sunsets @ipadkidsworld @otternanamilolo @issybee0611 @technicallysassyfox @cupcakemachete @manuchyy @darkened-writer @andyrazzledazzle @glossythor @virtueassassin @witchy-jadda @imonmykneessir @norr1e @mando-bix @thicficbich1 @adoringanakin @lalla-04p @reallysparklychaos @hollywoodmariposa
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“You got a name?” “Deadeye…”
[TWST AU]: In this timeline, there’s an MC/Yuu who is from the Valorant universe.
[Synopsis]: Agent!MC/Yuu is part of the Valorant Protocol and for some twisted reason, they get stuck in a world where magic actually exists.
[Gender Neutral MC/Yuu]
[TW]: Guns, near death experiences, only one death, and the use of Google Translate (because I never took French classes; I’m sorry in advanced for inaccurate translations).
[(A/N)]: I mentioned before that I already fell into the Valorant rabbit hole. I have also been listening to Odd Banker - Orch Compression on loop and it’s the same music used for the Chamber trailer. It fits his character so well!
[(A/N #2)]: For the alias I used in this AU came from a concept art before Chamber was announced and he originally was supposed to be Deadeye. Also I need to clarify their age is between 16-18 (Yes, that young for an agent).
youtube
MC/Yuu Fabron, a.k.a. Agent Deadeye, is another agent for the Valorant Protocol and is related to Chamber as they’re siblings. MC/Yuu is in their early-to-late teen years, and already they want to follow their brother’s footsteps as an agent and weapon designer.
Although the Fabron duo are great assets to the Protocol.
It was a tragedy for Agent Deadeye.
They were taken out during a mission gone wrong, but thanks to Sage, they are slowly recovering. Though there’s a problem: they’re in a comatose state.
It seems the young agent is out of commission until time would tell.
…
Now MC/Yuu Fabron, in their subconscious mind, fell somewhere and somehow got trapped into a weird world where magic actually exists.
The first time MC/Yuu came to Twisted Wonderland was when they almost shot Grim after being released from the confines of a coffin they were trapped inside.
Next, they shot at Crowley, nearly missing him by passing his ear.
Then after, both Crowley and Grim start running away from MC/Yuu.
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Chasing after the headmaster and Grim* I’m going to kill you for deceiving me! I know you Omega agents trapped me in a simulation to break me for intel!
Crowley: What are they talking about?!
Grim: How should I know?!!
When the two got to the ceremony, Crowley barely lock the doors but a card flies through the crack and incomes MC/Yuu teleporting inside the Mirror Chamber.
Everyone was surprised by the furious young agent.
Once they revealed themselves holding their Headhunter out, shit may go down.
Crowley: No no! Don’t shoot!
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Points their gun at Crowley* Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t. Ten seconds. Dix…Neuf…Huit…Sept…
Rook: Attendez un moment!
Agent!MC/Yuu: Huh? Tu parles français?
Rook: Oui. Please put your weapon down.
Agent!MC/Yuu: Why? I cannot trust anything here as it seems the enemies took me hostage and attempts to break me for sensitive information.
Rook: Enemies?
Agent!MC/Yuu: …You’re not the agents from the Omega Earth?
Rook: Omega Earth? What is this place you’re asking?
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Realization hits them hard* Oh, my god…
After the shenanigans calmed down and the ceremony continued smoothly, MC/Yuu was taken to Crowley’s office.
Inside of the room, the agent explains they’re part of a protocol with other agents like them and their goal is to prevent the Omega Earth and its doubles from stealing a material called Radianite.
Then it’s Crowley’s turn to explain they’re in Twisted Wonderland and they’re in Night Raven College, an All Boy’s school for magical academics.
Now that everything clears up, it seems Agent Deadeye has another mission: surviving back to school.
Also imagine these:
Rook and Deadeye are speaking French to each other!
Azul and Deadeye speaking Business to each other!
Vil/Cater and Deadeye speaking Good Taste/Insane Drip to each other!
[Chapter 3]
[The trio got anemones after signing contracts with the Octavinelle Dorm Leader.]
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Polishing their Headhunter*
Ace, Deuce, and Grim: MC/Yuu!!!
Agent!MC/Yuu: Merde! What happened to you three?
Deuce: We got dragged into a contract just to pass the exam.
Ace: Then these things popped out of nowhere.
Grim: Nyah! This is annoying! MC/Yuu, help us!
Agent!MC/Yuu: I refuse to help you, imbéciles. You brought this upon yourselves without knowing how business works and not studying beforehand. Even I passed without “magical knowledge.”
Grim: I sold our dorm too!
Agent!MC/Yuu: YOU WHAT?!!! How could you do such…*Groans in frustration* Keep it together, MC/Yuu. Remember what Vincent taught you. *Clears their throat* Where is this dealer who you signed contracts with?
Ace: The Octavinelle Dorm.
Deuce: We’re really sorry, MC/Yuu. We’ll pay for your Pain au chocolat as apologies.
Agent!MC/Yuu: Pour l'amour de...Fine, I’ll deal with that slimy businessman.
~
[Octavinelle Dorm]
[Monstro Lounge]
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Summons their card out and throws it to the room*
[It zips across the main dining hall through the crack of the double doors of the office. It was good as the Tweels didn’t notice.]
[Azul’s office]
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Teleports inside in front of Azul* Bonjour~
[(A/N): Don’t mind the gifs. I only used them to help visualize what actions MC/Yuu does.]
Azul: *Startled by their presence* Huh?!
Agent!MC/Yuu: Are you perhaps Azul Ashengrotto?
Azul: *Keeping his composure* I am. Who you may be?
Agent!MC/Yuu: Deadeye. *Taps their forearm, activating their markings to summon their sniper rifle* *Points it at Azul*
Azul: What the-?!! *Freaks out and falls back on his chair*
Agent!MC/Yuu: Say hello to Tour de Force 2.0. I need those contracts you scammed with the idiots from earlier.
Azul: *Freaking out* P-Put the gun down!
Agent!MC/Yuu: Don’t worry. I don’t waste my bullets on opportunists like you. Well, depending if you cross me.
Azul: What is it that you want?
Agent!MC/Yuu: I told you earlier: the contracts. Now that I have your attention, let’s talk about actual business.
[SPOILER: They actually got their idiot trio out of the contracts, which upsets Azul and still leads him to Overblot.]
[Pomefiore]
Vil: Your ink work and sense of fashion clash together.
Agent!MC/Yuu: Well I have good taste in everything~ Also these “tattoos” have functionalities that help me.
Vil: Is that so?
Agent!MC/Yuu: *Summons their Headhunter*
Vil: *Steps away*
Agent!MC/Yuu: Do not panic. The safety is on.
Vil: You need to be more careful pulling your weapons out.
Agent!MC/Yuu: Do not worry, my friend. I’m responsible of my possessions. Also, have you seen my Tour de Force 2.0?
[A bullet shattered a window and zips passed the two. In instinct, MC/Yuu got defensive and releases the safety off their Headhunter.]
Agent!MC/Yuu: Vil, get down now! Révèle-toi!
Rook: *Peeks through the broken window* Bonjour, Mon Trickster!
Agent!MC/Yuu: Rook? Put my sniper rifle down, now! That is not a toy you mess with! Do you know how much work I put into my beauty? Nobody touches my stuff!
[Chapter 6]
[S.T.Y.X.]
Agent!MC/Yuu: Oh, you want to play? Let’s play~ *Summons their Headhunter out and shoots at a Charon dead*
Epel: What the fuck?! You killed somebody!
Agent!MC/Yuu: It’s not my first time. Did you forget I’m an agent? Qualified to shoot?
Epel: NOT HERE!
Agent!MC/Yuu: Merde…Lets just get the boys, and I’ll face the one for kidnapping Grim.
Epel: What are ya gonna do?
Agent!MC/Yuu: Envoi de mes salutations à sa famille. *Reloads with more ammunition*
Rook: *Gasps* Mon Trickster!
I like to think that after everything Deadeye has gone through, they’re able to return to their home world.
Which is actually waking up from their comatose state.
Agent!MC/Yuu: Ow, my chest…Guys? Vincent?
You can imagine a sophisticated grown-ass man crying with relief after being notified that his little sibling woke up from recovery.
Chamber: MC/Yuu…You’re okay…
Agent!MC/Yuu: I’m alive. It’s just…I had the weirdest dream during my slumber.
As the young agent still has days to recover, they decided to return back to France for the time being.
It felt relaxing for them to stroll through the famous city of Love with many people filling the streets.
Then out of nowhere, someone bumps into them by accident.
???: Oh! I’m truly sorry for bumping into you.
Agent!MC/Yuu: No worries. Paris is a huge city-
They see a familiar face with bangs.
Agent!MC/Yuu: Rook?
✨[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]💫
#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#twst au#Youtube#Valorant#Agent!MC#Agent!Yuu#MC Fabron#Yuu Fabron#twisted wonderland mc#twst mc#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagines#twisted wonderland headcanons#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader
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Any thoughts on what's up with the Accelerated Dynamics nightmare dungeon? The obvious surface is about corporate greed, but how does that relate directly to Jimmy's life like the other nightmare dungeons do?
i've been slacking on the analysis posts a hell of a lot but this is one of the dungeons i've been looking for an opportunity to talk about because it's another one of those inclusions in jatpm that i think gets overlooked because it doesn't have an immediately obvious interpretation like some others do (or, as obvious as is possible for your average jimmy fan). i've done a lot of thinking about it, and a while back had this realization (slight tw for very very brief suicide mention, also obvious spoilers ahead):
kasey definitely put a lot of his own personal grievances with capitalism into accelerated dynamics, but in my opinion it's an incomplete picture without taking megatropolis as a whole into consideration. terminal illness is extremely costly to treat and particularly in the US, it's (in my experience) much more terrifying to imagine being unable to afford the cost of healthcare than it is to actually fall ill and require treatment. even with insurance covering the cost of medical supplies and bills most people continue to struggle to feed, clothe, and house themselves, and that's assuming they do have health insurance that covers the right necessities to begin with.
i say this because i doubt jimmy's cancer treatment was at all affordable given that he's already been through chemotherapy once before, and has spent the entirety of his second battle comatose while his family continues to work not just to support themselves, but to try and save his life. this isn't to argue that money troubles were absolutely a factor in his family's life because of his illness because we don't know much at all about their financial situation--more that this is a terrifying reality for many, many families fighting illnesses, and megatropolis is representative of something that jimmy and his family don't have the luxury of anymore: leisure.
accelerated dynamics is set in a sprawling city landmarked by arcades, shopping malls, theaters, toy company headquarters, and a massive school campus, all adjacent to a high-class beach resort. it's a stark contrast in atmosphere that was likely very intentional--accelerated dynamics is devoid of personality and wonder in comparison to bonita vista or even shinryu and features workplace ambience as its area theme and visuals of skeletal employees hanged outside the office windows. i think a lot of people were incredibly disappointed in mr grouse as a character to see that his humble beginnings had led him to this point, but i think the commentary runs a lot deeper and touches on this incredibly grave aspect of illness and thus jimmy's personal life that can be easy to miss for the trees; mr grouse tells jimmy before the fight that he used to dream of his banking business growing bigger and bigger and that now, with the advent of it having grown so big that it's now expanded into an entire enterprise, he understands the power and influence that money can buy him, but more than anything he now conceptualizes how terrifying it is to lose that wealth.
his dialogue after the fight is an admission that wealth completely and utterly eroded his morals and that jimmy should enjoy his innocence while he can--this is the incomprehensible, horrifying world of adulthood that he couldn't possibly understand at this age--and it's very clear that this is (one of) the intended angle(s) of this dungeon's theme where jimmy will never live long enough to understand the complications of growing older and losing his innocence to concepts like late stage capitalism, but mr grouse phrases his dialogue like an earnest request for reflection, something for jimmy to consider in a way that his brain can more easily deconstruct--think of all the things you could do if you had practically infinite wealth, and the only thing you had to worry about was not having money.
if jimmy and his family had infinite wealth, then maybe they'd be able to afford luxury resorts and theme parks and theaters and shopping trips again. if jimmy and his family had infinite wealth, maybe they wouldn't need to work themselves into an early grave over their child's deathbed.
#i don't know if i worded this the greatest because it's still a struggle for me to write for extended periods#but i articulated as best i could about my thoughts re: capitalism and wealth for this dungeon#like i said the obvious angle here is jimmy being unable to understand the inner workings of adults#and the ways in which they learn to exploit eachother in some bizarre performance of normalcy#but this is an angle i don't ever see anybody exploring#and i think personally that there's a lot of merit to it#from a thematic standpoint at least#if you asked kasey what it meant i think he'd just reiterate the anti-capitalist commentary because that was his primary motivator#jimmy and the pulsating mass#jimmy and the pulsating mass spoilers#jatpm#jatpm spoilers
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Hey, so I think I figured out why the Gaster Followers are the way that they are, and also why nobody seems to talk about Gaster himself, despite his very apparent importance in the Underground society's history.
The Followers are, literally, being hurt and consumed by bad memories.
(tw: suicide mention)
Monsters' bodies are made of magic, and as such, they work differently than human bodies do, which is evident especially with the concept of Falling Down, described by Alphys in the True Lab logs as a monster, after losing all hope, falls to the ground in a comatose state and seemingly has no way of reawakening or doing anything except for eventually dying. Hope, or rather the absence of it, plays a key role in this interaction. From this, we can gather that how a monster feels can have a tangible impact on their physical health.
It stands to reason, then, that witnessing a traumatic event can cause a similar kind of damage to a monster's psyche, and therefore their bodies. Not only that, but turning our attention back to the True Lab, we can encounter amalgamates called “Memoryheads”--
-- which, if you interact with them in a specific way, can fill our inventories with an item called the "Bad Memory". These bad memories cannot be thrown away, and if you try to use one, you take a little damage. But that's just what happens to Frisk, a human.
What happens if a monster were to be given a bad memory? The game, according to my theory at least, gives us the answer to that question in the form of the three Gaster Followers you can randomly encounter around Hotland. Yes, followers plural. It is my personal belief that all three of them have pieces of Gaster. Or, perhaps it’s more accurate to say that the pieces... have them?
Deltarune finally gave us a look at what Follower 3′s normal self looks like, and due to the fact that everyone in Deltarune doesn’t change that much physically from their Undertale counterparts, we can (in my opinion) safely make comparisons between every Follower and their more colorful selves.
To be frank, it’s... a little concerning, because looking at it all at once, it’s quite obvious what’s happening to these monsters. They’re holding onto Bad Memories, which are apparently in the process of consuming them. Follower 2′s hand has been replaced or melded with one piece, the borders around 1′s eyes and mouth seem to suggest (at least to me?) that it’s practically being WORN, like some kind of bodysuit.
And, of course, 3... good lord, look at Follower 3. Knowing what’s meant to be what in this sprite now makes it appear that 3′s body has Fallen Down, but the memory might be able to keep it upright and sort of... puppet it around? It’s almost like a burlap sack was thrown over the guy, honestly. Possibly while it was frozen in the second frame of its animation, as you can tell from its beak and wing shapes matching up with the “jaw” of their Follower/Undertale version.
Follower 2, though, is especially interesting due to the fact that his piece seems to bear the most resemblance to an attack the Memoryheads are known for doing:
In any case, the trend is clear: holding onto Bad Memories (or in other words... trauma) literally eats monsters up. You can tell it’s eating them up in the metaphorical sense, too. Vague as they are, all of their dialogue revolves around Gaster, and as a matter of fact it’s basically the only confirmed sources of information on this character that we have. It’s all they know, too.
Due to its importance to my theory, here is a comprehensive list of everything directly told to us by the three Followers:
1 - Doctor W.D. Gaster was the Royal Scientist preceding Alphys.
2 - Gaster’s brilliance is described as “irreplaceable.” This is corroborated by another Follower, calling Gaster an “act to follow.”
3 - Gaster created the CORE.
4 - Gaster, at some point, “vanished without a trace.”
5 - There was a rumor that “(Gaster) shattered across time and space.” I specify that it seems to be a rumor due to this being prefaced with “they say,” a common way to simply say that something you heard is a rumor being passed around.
6 - This same follower, #2, is able to say this “without fear,” due to possessing a piece of Gaster themselves.
7 - At some point, Gaster’s “experiments went wrong”.
8 - Gaster’s life was “cut short”. This wording of “cut short” is shared across two of the followers, and given Undertale’s style of writing, it’s likely significant in some fashion.
9 - Gaster “fell into his own creation.”
10 - Asgore “waited so long” to hire a new Royal Scientist.
11 - Asgore "took so long” to hire a new Royal Scientist, which seems to imply something different to the “waited so long” anecdote from another follower. “Took so long” implies a process that took a lengthy amount of time. “Waited so long” implies, well, waiting a long time before beginning the process.
12 - Alphys “works faster” than he did, most likely meaning that her output in terms of experimentation results and inventions were faster.
13 - There is speculation that Alphys will “end up the same way”.
14 - Despite everything else said about Gaster, Follower 3 refrains from elaborating on the experiments going wrong, claiming that “... it’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening.”
Potential conclusions to draw:
- (3 + 9) Gaster fell into the CORE.
- (10 + 11) Due to Asgore seemingly dragging his feet, there was a long stretch of time where there was absolutely no Royal Scientist.
- (2 + 12) Gaster was, seemingly, quite the perfectionist.
- (3 + 12) Alphys was the creator of everything hi-tech seen in Undertale, with the exception of the CORE.
- (7 + 13) Gaster and Alphys, perhaps, experienced similar situations of their experiments going wrong during their respective tenures.
Now, a lot of this is important, but I want to draw attention to the things concerning comparisons to Alphys, and Gaster’s experiments going wrong. Alphys, as I’m sure many of you know, is depressed. She is depressed due to her feelings of failure regarding the Amalgamates, an experiment into Determination that went wrong, in the True Lab... and she fights back against that regret by watching anime and blogging about her bad opinions online. It’s not exactly a healthy coping mechanism, but at least it’s... something.
Something that Gaster, presumably, did not have. Now, let’s look back at Gaster’s Entry Number 17:
“ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN
DARK DARKER YET DARKER
THE DARKNESS KEEPS GROWING
THE SHADOWS CUTTING DEEPER
THIS NEXT EXPERIMENT SEEMS
VERY
VERY
INTERESTING
...
WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK?”
Due to Deltarune's frequent allusions and ties to this piece of dialogue (and the noise being emitted in the room it’s found in), we now know, more or less, what was happening here: Gaster was witnessing the creation of a Dark Fountain, hinted at by the present tense of the words like “GROWING” and “CUTTING”. Due to Fountains requiring Determination to open, however, it is unlikely that he would be able to open one himself and survive, so it is likely that he enlisted the help of... someone. Possibly one of the “you two” mentioned at the end, or perhaps even a third party.
Due to the fact that Gaster is a historical figure of sorts, this narrows down who this Fountain-puller could be by... a lot, actually. There’s only one real candidate, I’d argue.
But that’s a theory for another time, I think.
Getting back on track, it would seem that, either soon after this Entry or at a later point, something went wrong with these Dark World experiments. Gaster presumably thought that things went wrong to such an extent that he would be unable to face the consequences of his actions, for whatever reason, leading to him “falling into his own creation”. Due to the parallels between him and Alphys made by the Followers themselves, and assuming this to be accurate information, it is very likely that Gaster was attempting to take his own life.
However, that did not happen. Instead, while his life was indeed “cut short”, pieces of him scattered across time and space. Some, ending up in the hands of monsters who would later come to obsess over him and his legacy.
Consider the broader context of this, for a moment: this sort of news would likely come as a deep emotional cut to a populace of monsters stuck in a cave with seemingly no way to break the barrier preventing them from leaving. Monsters that, mind you, go into a coma and eventually die if they lose hope. How could Asgore go about explaining to everyone that Dr. Gaster, one of the most brilliant minds monsterkind has ever known, was just... gone?
It’s simple: he couldn’t. No formal announcement could possibly be made that wouldn’t result in bodies dropping like stones. We are talking potentially pounds of dust littering the streets. So, my theory-within-a-theory here, is that Asgore allowed news of Gaster’s fate to pass from one person to another in the forms of vague rumors. Once he felt confident in it being spread enough, he began to hold auditions for a new Royal Scientist, to complete the cover-up.
The reason why nobody (aside from the Followers Three) talks about Gaster is because, due to the way monster bodies interact with their feelings, it quite literally hurts to talk or even think about him. Additionally, anyone who does think about Gaster for too long, starts to be consumed by those thoughts. The same Bad Thoughts that the Memoryheads give you.
It's not any sort of memory wiping/timeline shenanigans, or at least not in the way people may think at first glance. It’s just... simple monster biology.
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ram here to join all the debate over what joren would do in case MC plans to kill him (hope you're having a good day <3):
if the betrayal is too much for him to tolerate but also he's a yandere so keeping his bae aka MC, what about making /sure/ they can never try to scheme again like (warning for incoming silly goofy violent actions) breaking their wrists so they can't be violent again (temporarily or indefinitely, i feel like that would depend whether MC ends up submitting or not tbh, tho i think he'd take care of them regardless? you tell us wink) or even mindbreaking them (through torture or intercourse, both can work but perhaps joren would be more interested in the latter considering more chance of MC becoming dependent on joren without going against him again so it could be almost romantic in his eyes) thoughts?
also the talk about MC sad / scared crying may me wonder, how would joren react to happy tears or even tears of pleasure pause....
Hi <3!! Hope you're having a good day(night) too!
Ughhh, I really was indecisive about what to do. I consulted it with my pillow, my cat, the Kylo Ren's poster on my door... I even asked my brother for his opinion, lol.
He knows I'm making a romance/"mystery" game, but just that, so I asked him in a vague: "thoughts about MC getting killed by their love interest in a bad ending?". His idea was to make MC marry a duke(???), get an army(?), kill Joren's family(????), and have these two die in an epic battle sequence(???).
So, no luck there.
I was thinking about adding the option to talk him down, but yeah! It still didn't feel right!! It felt too "murdersim", not "yandere game" enough.
I actually think it's better to limit MC's death to 1 horrorporn ending, and leave the rest as survival endings, no matter if they are normal or horrorporn endings. It makes more sense for a yandere character. TW: minbreak for later.
And yes! I can still keep the "Joren uses violence as an outlet for his anger/sadness" and "Joren uses violence to fix his problems", but like you said, he breaks their wrists, maybe their legs... And tada! Problem solved, MC can still have their freedom because he'll take them wherever they want to go, and help them to do whatever they want to do... But now they won't be able to betray him again, since they need him, permanently.
I could even add the option "to talk him down" but instead of avoiding death, MC avoids getting their limbs permanently broken. I want it to be a little extreme since this is the greatest reminder of his trauma.
And sexual mindbreak! Yes! I'm into the unrealistic "happy" kind of mindbreak, where the character loses their mind, but learns to enjoy it? The realistic "blank-eyed" mindbreak just makes me sad T_T
But I can see Joren being satisfied with both.
In the "happy" one, he'd totally feel like he won everything he ever wanted, even if MC is a shell of themselves, can't do anything without him, and gets some lucid attacks of panic... But they look happy (and broken) most of the time, so it's fine, they are in love <3. Here he'd still have sex with them.
In the "blank-eyed" one, he'd also be content, but not really happy. He got them, yes, but they're pretty much comatose all the time, so all he has is a doll. He'd take care of them, but having sex would lose its appeal if they just lay under him like a corpse. He'd eventually learn to treat them like a trophy on a shelf.
And happy tears?? The man has seen tears of pleasure, yes, but not that!! It has so much comedy potential!!
If someone else made MC cry with happiness, you bet he's picking a fight with that person, who do they think they are for making MC cry?
And if he was the reason behind the tears of joy, he'd fear he just hurt/scared them somehow!! He would be super confused, what in Moon's name did he do????
And imagine Joren pushing past his fear of intimacy for the first time, and telling MC he loves them... Just for them to cry?? Traumatic. He would feel rejected, and all the progress he made about showing his feelings would be lost, so MC better tell him those are tears of happiness before that happens.
Also, tears of pleasure are a yes!! He's licking them off MC's face!! And when he becomes comfortable with being soft, he'll kiss them <33!!
#ask away!#from lon to you#horrorporn awful#rambling✒️!!!#thank you!!#your opinion actually really helped me to decide what to do#some times i really need to hear other opinions to#get things into perpestive
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The Royal Romance.
Love Everlasting.
A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.
Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.
Current Word Count: 19.8 K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾♀️)
If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘
This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!
Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!
TW: murder/execution and blackmail. If you are sensitive to any of those topics do not read any further. if you choose to continue on: THIS WILL BE YOUR ONLY WARNING! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED!
It's King Liam Appreciation Week! And y'all know me. I am a King Marquise (Liam) Stan! So to publish the latest chapter of Love Everlasting during this week is a MAJOR PLUS for me. I hope you enjoy Part One! 😘
Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @kingliamappreciationweek @txemrn @peonierose @shewillreadyou @twinkleallnight
Chapter 11.) Fate. Part 1.
Shanelle stood beside her husband as he hung up the phone. His Majesty had just issued his first arrest warrant for murder. For his ex, Princess Naya Laurent.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
“To be honest, no. But I have no choice. She poisoned Tariq.” Marquise replied.
“How can you be sure?” Shanelle asked.
Marquise sighed deeply.
“Trace amounts of Cantarella were found in the tissue sample collected,” he replied.
“Cantarella?” she asked.
“It's a type of poison that is identical to arsenic. Allegedly, it was used back during the time of Pope Alexander VI,” he replied.
“It's scary that you know that.”
Marquise shrugged.
“I have to know it. I studied poisons, remember?”
“I stand by my statement. Thank you very much.”
“Besides, it's been banned in Cordonia since the 1600s.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because it's part of why Queen Kendra was killed,” he replied.
“There's a story there.”
Marquise settled into his chair.
“In its purest form, Cantarella is a powerfully potent tranquilizer. If it's burned and then inhaled it can leave you comatose. If it's ingested it slowly poisons your bloodstream and causes organ failure. When King Fabian found out that it was burned the night his aunt was killed, he banned it from the realm except for a small sample. He wanted it to be studied so a cure could be made. But as I said, that was centuries ago.”
“Okay well, that explains how she got her hands on it. Her dad was a King right?” she asked.
Marquise shook his head no.
“King Elgin never knew about it,” he replies.
Marquise sighed.
“This is about to be a PR nightmare.”
“Why? You have evidence that she killed her husband.”
“I have an autopsy report that shows the poison was in his system when he died, yes. But now I have to prove where she got it and how she used it to kill him. Not to mention I also have to figure out why she killed him.”
Shanelle wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.
“It's a tall order but we will get it done.”
Marquise shook his head no.
“I will get it done. You're not getting involved in this.”
“It's cute that you think you have a choice in the matter. Per the law, Your Majesty, any time a noble is accused of a high crime like murder, their trial requires BOTH the King and Queen to sit at the head of parliament as the case is being heard. But only the first reigning Monarch can hand down the fate of said noble. So whether you like it or not, I’m in.”
Marquise groaned.
“You have a grudge against Naya. Your being there could make you look biased.”
Shanelle rolled her eyes.
“I know how to compartmentalize my personal feelings towards her so they don't get in the way of the trial thank you very much.”
“I'm not saying that you don't. What I’m saying is that knowing you and your history with her, you wouldn't necessarily be entirely fair to her. She at least deserves a fair trial. Unless you want us to be seen like the former Monarchs.”
Shanelle sighed.
“Okay fine, I see your point. But I promise that I can and will take whatever personal feelings I have toward Princess Naya out of this situation for the good of the kingdom and this trial.”
Marquise raised an eyebrow.
“Swear to it.”
Shanelle groaned.
“I swear to you my King, I will be fair and honest during her trial.”
Marquise nodded.
“Good. Now the arrest warrant should be here soon. So get ready for a media circus.”
“Yay!” Shanelle deadpanned.
There was a subtle knock at his door.
“Come in,” Marquise announced.
An attendant dressed in black and silver entered the room carrying an envelope.
“Apologies my King but I have the arrest warrant. All that is needed is your and Her Majesty’s signatures.”
“Very well.”
The attendant opened the envelope and placed the warrant on Marquise’s desk.
“Well, this is it. Are you ready?” Shanelle asked her husband.
Rather than answer, Marquise set his jaw and then signed the warrant before handing the pen to Shanelle. Once she signed her name, he took out his small jar of clay and sealed the warrant before handing it back to the attendant.
“With this now signed warrant, you are to arrest Princess Naya Laurent at her home. You will not disturb anyone within her house or duchy. Is that clear?” Marquise asked the attendant.
“Yes, my Liege.” the attendant replies.
“Good. You have your orders.”
With a curt nod, the attendant left the room as quietly as he came. Marquise let out a breath he’d been holding in.
“I can tell this is affecting you,” Shanelle said to him.
Marquise shook his head.
“Of course it is. Naya may be a lot of things but a murderer?” he asked.
“She's been spiraling for years, Marquise,” Shanelle replies.
“This is true. Which is why this is so bizarre. Tariq made a deal with me to keep her out of a dungeon. Not because he had to but because he loved her. He knew that if the court found out she tried to kidnap you, it would ruin both of them. It doesn't make any sense why she would kill him. He's the reason she has any freedom.”
“It didn't make any sense when she tried to kidnap me all those years ago but still she did it.”
Marquise ran a frustrated hand down his face.
“Look. I'm not the only one with a history with her. You have a history with her too. Yours is more intimate but still. At the end of the day, we have jobs to do. This trial is happening. Her murder charge is real. So we both need to compartmentalize our personal feelings about her and remember the facts. She murdered her husband and we need to find out why.” Shanelle said to her husband.
Marquise took a deep breath.
“I know. I'll be fine.”
“Good. When will the trial start?” Shanelle asked.
“Ideally I want to start it as soon as possible. But I’m thinking after Khari starts school Friday,” he replies.
“Okay. Do I need to do anything?” she asked.
“No. My advisors will convene the Heads Of State. And Carlo will get to be a prosecutor.” he replies.
“Carlo?” she asked.
“Yes. Whenever a noble is on trial for a crime like this the Keeper is the prosecutor,” he replies.
“And realistically what will we do?” she asked.
“As heads of the Monarchy and Parliament, we will get to ask both the prosecution and defense questions about evidence, witnesses, dates and times, that sorta thing during the trial. And once both sides have rested, the Parliament will convene and decide whether or not to convict or acquit. If she is convicted, it's up to me to decide whether or not she lives or she dies.” he replies.
“So basically I get to be Briscoe and you get to be Green?” she asked.
“No. This is not an episode of Law And Order! Besides you’re Green. I'm Briscoe. Thank you very much.” he replies.
“Why do you get to be Briscoe?” she asked.
“Because he was the senior detective. And since I am the King…”
Shanelle sucked her teeth.
“Yeah yeah.”
“When was the last time a trial like this happened?” she asked.
Marquise thought for a minute.
“I'll have to check with Carlo but I believe it was when my great-grandfather Leonidas was King. One of the nobles at that time was accused of spying on the Crown for another kingdom during WWII.”
“Wow!”
“So get ready my love. We're in for the trial of the century.”
The next few days were a whirlwind for the couple. Starting with their daughter finally starting school. And Her Majesty was anything BUT okay. She dreaded having to take her baby to her first day of school but she knew she had to. As they walked Khari to her class Shanelle’s emotions weren't having it. And Khari noticed.
“Now Mommy,” Khari said as she took her mother’s hands, “promise me that you'll be okay while I’m at school today.”
Shanelle wanted to die. She didn't want to let her baby go.
“…I promise,” she said sadly to Khari.
“Don't be sad Mommy! You still have Daddy.”
Shanelle’s bottom lip just quivered.
“Mommy I gotta be a big girl now. Right Daddy?” Khari asked her father.
“That's right my love. You’re a big girl now. Mommy knows that.” he replied.
“See Mommy?” Khari asked.
Shanelle whimpered and finally swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Okay, baby. Have fun at school today.” Shanelle finally spoke.
Khari hugged her mother.
“I will! I gotta go! I love you! Byeeeeee!” Khari said before she took off to her class.
That's when Shanelle broke and Marquise had to drag her back to their car.
“Myyyyyyyyyy babyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!” Shanelle cried as they rode back to the palace.
When they finally got back to the residence Marquise just looked at her.
“Jesus Christ woman!” Marquise said before shaking his head, “And you have the nerve to always call me overdramatic. She's fine. We knew this day was coming.”
“That doesn't mean I like it!” she snapped at him with tears in her eyes.
He sighed then led her to a bench where they sat down and pulled her close as she cried.
“I know you don't,” he spoke softly
“I don't like her not being with us. We are where she's safe. If anything happens to her—” she tried to say before her words were choked off by a sob.
“Shhhh! It's okay. As much as we hate it, my love, we can't stop her. She's a big girl now. She's ready to grow. She's ready to step out into the world.”
“You probably think I’m being ridiculous.”
Marquise shook his head.
“Not entirely. You’re a mother first and foremost. Your first instinct is to protect. And no one has protected our daughter more than you. No one has nurtured her more than you have. But she's more than just the Crown Princess of Cordonia who goes to ballet, voice, dance, painting, and piano lessons. While she succeeds at all of them she's ready to be around kids her age. She's ready for sleepovers and friends. The things we had as kids. Well, you more than me but I digress. She's ready to show the world who she is and who she can be.”
Shanelle nodded her head.
“I just love her so much that I…” she trailed off to get a hold of herself.
“Khari knows that. She knows that you're proud of her. And that you want her to do her best. That's how we've raised her to be.”
Shanelle smiled softly. Marquise kissed her forehead.
“Now dry your eyes. Because she’ll be home soon with a whole bunch of stories.”
A few days later, the couple were deep in conversation about their daughter's birthday party.
“While Khari’s at school, you and I can talk about the logistics of her birthday this year.”
He led Shanelle to a side garden where breakfast was waiting on them.
“Way ahead of you. It's happening at the winery.”
“Wonderful!”
“Sir. You will not be drinking at my daughter's birthday party.”
Marquise pouted.
“I don't need your big ass hobbling around the winery drunk.”
“I beg your pardon madam! I will have you know that I can hold my liquor!”
“Funny how you couldn't hold it that one time we were hosting a state dinner.”
Marquise made a face.
“My drink was spiked!”
“That's funny. Because mine wasn't. And we were drinking from the same wine bottle.”
Marquise grumbled.
“What is this giant teddy bear grumbling about now?” Margo asked as she stepped into the garden.
“Watch your tone or you'll be out of a job woman!” Marquise warned.
“Hah! You fire me now and you'll be a headless King by the time the Princess gets through with you.” Margo shot back.
“She doesn't get a say.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that. One look at her and you'll fold like a cheap ass lawn chair.”
“What are you implying, my Queen?” he asked.
“That you’re a pushover for your daughter and that you’ll be even worse when the twins get here,” Margo replied.
“She's not wrong.” Shanelle piped up.
Marquise groaned.
“Had I known you two would constantly gang up on me I wouldn't have gotten married.”
“But you did. And now you’re stuck with us.” Shanelle said.
“So get used to it, Your Majesty.”
Marquise groaned as Shanelle and Margo laughed.
“If I didn't love you two as much as I do.”
Just then an attendant dressed in black and silver entered the garden.
“Pardon the interruption, my Liege, but I have news for you.”
“Go ahead,” Marquise said to the attendant.
“The arrest warrant for Princess Naya Laurent-Miller has been carried out.”
Marquise nodded.
“Where is she now?” Marquise asked.
“She is being processed before she is to be placed in a dungeon,” the attendant replied.
“Instead of a dungeon, keep her under heavy guard at one of the safe houses in the city center. Do not tell her husband anything about her whereabouts until the start of the trial.”
The attendant nodded.
“Take great care, do not let a word about this slip. Is that clear?” Marquise asked.
“Yes, my King.” the attendant replies.
“Good. Now you have your orders.”
“By your command, my Liege.”
The attendant bowed to Shanelle and Margo.
“My Queen. Madam Geaneaux,” he said to them before leaving.
“Naya? Arrested?” Margo asked.
“Yes,” Marquise replied.
“Whatever for?” Margo asked.
“Murder,” he replies.
Margo gasped loudly.
“Murder?! What in the world?!”
“Of Tariq.” Shanelle piped up.
Margo looked at Marquise.
“I thought Tariq died of organ failure.”
Marquise shook his head no.
“That's what we all thought. But something always nagged me about the suddenness of his death. So I had his body exhumed and had an autopsy done. Turns out that he was poisoned.”
“Poisoned?! My God! With what?” Margo asked.
“Cantarella,” Marquise replied.
Margo’s eyebrows shot up.
“Impossible. Cantarella has been banned since the time of your ancestor King Fabian. It is said that he kept a small sample of it hidden when a cure for the poison couldn't be made or found. But no one is supposed to know where he hid it.”
“Well somehow it was found and used. And now we have a murder trial to prepare for.”
Margo shook her head.
“Lord Tariq was pretentious as all hell I'll admit, but that's no reason to poison him. It just makes no sense.”
“Well, we'll find out why she did it next Wednesday. That is when her trial will begin.”
Margo nodded.
“Very well, Your Majesty.”
Marquise nodded to Margo before looking at his wife.
“In the meantime, I have a meeting with Carlo about the trial that I can't miss. While you have a checkup to get to. I'm sorry I have to miss your appointment.”
“It's okay. I probably shouldn't have scheduled it at the last minute.”
“You'll call me if you need anything, yes?”
“Yup. Margo will go with me so I'll be fine.”
“Alright. I'll see you both later.”
With a sweet kiss to his wife, His Majesty was off to meet with his cousin. When he got to his office, Carlo was waiting.
“Good morning cousin. I hope I wasn't keeping you long.” Marquise said in greeting.
“Not at all, my King. I had just gotten here maybe 5 minutes before you.” Carlo replied.
“Please have a seat so we can get started,” Marquise said as both took their seats.
“Well, this is quite the predicament we find ourselves in, cousin. Charging a noble, much less a female noble at that, with murder is highly unorthodox.” Carlo said to Marquise.
“I understand. But I can't just ignore the fact that a man was killed with a poison that has been banned for centuries.”
“What poison?” Carlo asked.
“Cantarella. It was found in a tissue sample that was taken when I had Lord Tariq Sauvageon’s body exhumed.” Marquise replied.
Carlo nodded.
“And you think that Naya used it to kill her husband?” Carlo asked.
“Yes, I do,” Marquise replied.
“But why?” Carlo asked.
“That's for you to find out, Carlo. After all, you’re the prosecution,” Marquise replied.
“Very well. I will finish preparing my opening statement and I will see you Wednesday, Your Majesty.”
Marquise nodded.
“I just have to ask Marquise. Given the history she has with you and your wife, can you and Shanelle be impartial?” Carlo asked.
“Of course. This is a serious charge, Carlo. I don't have time to be emotional about Naya. I am a King. I have a job to do and a responsibility to uphold.” Marquise replied.
“Very good. I shall take my leave now. I'll see you Wednesday.”
Marquise watched Carlo walk out before getting on with his day. He had just finished lunch when there was a knock at his door.
“Come in,” he called out.
When he looked up, a group of guards walked in escorting Naya with them.
“The prisoner as you requested my King.” the lead guard announced.
“Thank you, gentlemen.”
Naya sat down across from Marquise with her chains making a loud clunking sound.
“Those won't be necessary.” Marquise indicated to the chains around her wrists and ankles. “I trust the Princess isn't stupid enough to try me.”
With a curt nod, a guard unlocked the shackles.
“Thank you. That will be all.”
The guards left the room, leaving Marquise alone with his former love.
“Well you certainly know how to make life difficult don't you?” he asked Naya.
She remained silent. Just glaring daggers at him. Which made him chuckle.
“The silent treatment eh? Very well. We’ll play this your way.”
Marquise dialed a number on his office phone.
“Yes my King?” a voice answered.
“Get in contact with Donnie Brine. Tell him to go ahead and run the story.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
When Marquise hung up the phone, Naya had a terrified look on her face.
“I suggest you start talking, Princess.”
“I've done nothing wrong!” Naya blurted out.
“I didn't know murdering your former husband was considered doing nothing.”
“Murdering my former husband?! You're insane Marquise! I would never kill Tariq!”
“Then explain to me how Cantarella got into his system.”
“What did you say?” she asked sheepishly.
“Cantarella. I take it that it's ringing a bell?” he replied.
He watched Naya shift in her seat uncomfortably.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don't. As far as I'm concerned this whole situation was orchestrated by your wife as a witch hunt!”
That's when Marquise presented Naya with the autopsy report.
“Then explain this.”
Naya went pale as she read the report.
“This is your only chance, Naya. What happened?” he asked.
Naya looked at him trying not to be scared out of her mind.
“How did you…”
“You're not saying anything.”
Naya remained quiet.
“Have it your way. Guards!” he called out.
“Wait!” she blurted out.
“Are you ready to talk?” he asked.
Naya nodded her head yes.
“Start talking.”
He watched her hang her head with tears.
“I…I…I didn't mean it.”
“You didn't mean what?” he asked.
“I didn't mean to kill him! I swear!” she replied.
“You expect me to believe that you poisoned him accidentally?” he asked.
“I didn't know it was poison until after he died. The original coroner's report confirmed that it was Cantarella that killed him. I knew that if you, his parents, or anyone else found out I’d be screwed so I begged the coroner to change the cause of death on the report.” she replied.
Marquise shook his head.
“You killed an innocent man Naya. I can't overlook this.”
Naya scoffed.
“My late husband was a lot of things. Innocent was never one of them.” she sneered.
“What are you talking about? He loved you.”
“That's what he wanted people to think. In reality, I was just a trophy to him. A reason to elevate him and his parent's station. I was nothing more than a glorified contractual obligation.”
Marquise shrugged.
“You agreed to the betrothal Naya. You were even given a chance to back out of the marriage before you got married.”
“And what good would that have done me?! It wouldn't have erased my father's debt and it wouldn't have brought you back to me so what other choice did I have?” she asked.
“If you were that unhappy why didn't you ask for a divorce?” he replied.
“I tried! I begged Tariq for a divorce. I even told him that I wanted nothing from him. I just wanted our marriage to be over but he said no. He was going to make sure that I kept up my family’s end of the agreement. I even went to your father and asked him to grant me a divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences and even he refused. He said, while he understood why I wanted a divorce, it was none of his or the Monarchy’s business to get involved in our personal affairs.” she replied.
“You could've come to me.”
Naya scoffed.
“Oh please! You would've been no better than King Constantine. Besides, you've had your head way too far up your commoner wife’s ass to care about me.”
“If you're trying to be funny, you just failed.”
“There was nothing you could do for me.”
“For the record, had you come to me I would have granted you your divorce if you were that unhappy. But it's not just the divorce that you wanted. You wanted the divorce and you wanted me to leave my family for you.”
Naya looked down at her hands.
“We should still be together. We belong together,” she whispered.
“For the love of God! Let it go Naya!”
Naya went to say something but instead suddenly clutched her stomach.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
Naya shook her head no.
“When your guards came to arrest me, I had just gotten back from my doctor's appointment.”
“Okay and? What does that have to do with this conversation?” he asked.
“I had a blood test done. And it confirmed that I'm pregnant,” she replied.
Marquise looked at her skeptically.
“You're lying.”
“I'm not lying!”
“Then why am I just now hearing about this?” he asked.
“Because you have me charged with murder Marquise!” Naya replied.
Marquise raised an eyebrow at her.
“Naya, where did you get the poison?” Marquise asked.
Naya swallowed hard.
“Answer the question Naya.”
“I don't have to tell you anything else,” she replied.
“Is that your final answer?” he asked.
“Yes. I no longer wish to speak with you without my legal counsel present,” she replied.
“Very well,” he said to her before calling out to the door. “Guard!”
The guards entered the room.
“Take the prisoner back,” Marquise instructed.
Just then Marquise’s phone pinged.
“Well now you've just made front-page news,” he said as he showed her the headline that was going across his phone. “Also since you claim to be pregnant, you have 24 hours to produce proof of this pregnancy.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Naya asked.
“That sounds like a you problem not a me problem. Get this woman out of my sight,” he replied.
Marquise watched his guards escort Naya out of his office.
As Naya was escorted out she ran into Shanelle as she was coming back from her appointment.
“Hello, Princess or should I say, soon-to-be former Princess?” Shanelle said to Naya.
“Go fuck yourself, Your Majesty!” Naya sneered.
“Why do that when I can fuck the man you'll never have?” Shanelle asked smugly. “Get this bitch outta my palace!”
Shanelle watched as Naya was hauled away before walking into her husband’s office.
“You met with the suspect without me?” Shanelle asked.
“Yes,” Marquise replied.
“What did she tell you?” Shanelle asked as she sat down.
“Nothing outside of the fact she claims she's pregnant,” he replies.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Naya?! Your ex?! Is pregnant?!” Shanelle asked
“That's what she told me,” he replies.
“Geez!”
“She has 24 hours to prove it though.”
“If she actually is pregnant God help us all.”
Marquise nodded as she joined him behind his desk.
“Indeed. How was your appointment?”
“It was good. She decreased my blood pressure meds and increased my potassium and iron intake. She said my levels aren't where she wants them to be.”
“You're not anemic are you?”
“Yes. Because this pregnancy is more than one baby, anemia is to be expected.”
Marquise nodded.
“That means you need more iron in your diet, my love. I’ll call the kitchens to make sure that you are given more iron-rich foods.”
“Yes, Mom.”
He cut his eyes at her.
“Don't get smart with me.” he snapped at her.
“Ooh! Someone’s in a mood today.”
Marquise sighed.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.”
“You can make it up to me by buying me a Birkin.”
“I take it back,” he muttered.
He placed a hand on her belly.
“And how are my little ones?” he asked.
“Still playing too damn much. They're not in position!” Shanelle complained.
Marquise tapped a finger on her stomach.
“Hello, my little ones. I'm not sure if you can hear me but Daddy needs you two to do him a big favor. I need you both to prepare for your debut. That includes the two of you getting into your birthing position. Daddy can't hold either of you if you two aren't in position.”
Shanelle laughed.
“You love talking to them.”
“Of course. It helps in their development before birth. Besides, I like hearing my own voice.”
“Gee! I hadn't noticed.”
Marquise snickered.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked.
“Prepping for the trial,” he replied.
“Since you met with her, do you still think she did it?”
“Yes, I do. When I asked her where she got the Cantarella she clammed up.”
“She could be protecting someone.”
“That's the problem. She is protecting someone. And since she wants to protect whoever this person is, she can go to the dungeons for them.”
Shanelle had never seen him have this much conviction.
“You sure are confident.”
“I have to be. I don't have time to let her tears sway me.”
“Very well. I won't keep you long. Besides, I have to go pick up your daughter from school. I'm sure she and her friend will have a lot to say about their day today.”
The record in Marquise's head stopped.
“Friend?! What friend?” he asked.
“You know her cute little friend Xavier. The one she always walks out with,” she replies.
“He is not her little friend.”
“Stop being jealous.”
Marquise gave his wife a lopsided look.
“She does not have a little friend!” he said through gritted teeth.
“Poor Papa Bear. Can rule a kingdom but can't let his baby girl go.”
“I said what I said!” he said emphatically.
Shanelle shook her head with a chuckle.
“I'll see you later babe.”
“Uh-huh. I'll see you later.”
Marquise watched his wife walk out of his office before he went back to prepping for the trial. Later that night after prep for the trial and family time with his sweet girl, His Majesty was coming out of the shower with a million and one questions that had no real answers.
It started to remind him of the first time she snapped.
The kingdom was abuzz for their new King and Queen. They had just returned to Cordonia after being married. They were greeted by fanfare and many were excited to get a glimpse of their new Monarchs. After meeting with the Parliament and establishing the new Monarchy it was time for the newest Royal Couple to host their first state dinner.
The palace was alight with activity. Many spent days preparing for the dinner. None more than Marquise. He had done these in his sleep but his new bride had not. And he was excited to show her what life as a reigning Queen was really like. The day of the state dinner was a busy one for the couple. But they handled it beautifully. They were almost ready to debut but something was missing for Marquise.
“Okay, so why are we going to the vault?” Shanelle asked as they walked to the vault.
“You'll see in a minute,” Marquise replies.
Once inside the vault, they headed towards the Queen’s section. They were looking for a tiara for Shanelle to wear that night.
“Look at them! They're all so beautiful,” she said to him.
“Indeed they are. And they’re all yours to choose from. The custom one I had made for your coronation isn’t quite ready yet. So that’s why we’re here. So you can choose one to wear tonight. So take your time but don't take too much time. We do have a debut to make.”
Shanelle shook her head with a smile before she browsed the many tiaras. Each one was unique. Some were simple and others were way too gaudy for her taste. She settled on one tiara that didn't look like the rest. It was studded with diamonds like the rest but this one also had a blood-red ruby in the middle that was surrounded by smaller rubies.
“I think I found the one I want to wear,” she said to him.
Marquise looked at the tiara in its case with a fond look on his face.
“Are you sure, my love?” he asked.
Shanelle nodded her head yes.
“Very well.”
With a snap of his fingers, an attendant opened the case and removed the tiara and the ceremonial pillow it sat on, and presented it to Marquise.
“Thank you,” he said to the attendant as he sat it on the pedestal next to the case. He picked up the tiara with a fond smile on his face as he held it in his hands.
“This one is my favorite out of all the tiaras,” he said before turning to Shanelle.
“Why is that?” she asked.
Before answering he gently placed the tiara on her head. She turned to the floor-length mirror to the left of her.
“Because this was my mother’s crown.” he finally answered.
She looked at him and then looked at her reflection in the mirror.
“This was Eleanor’s crown?” she asked.
“Yes. It's been in the vault at the main house of my duchy for years. I had it brought to the palace in hopes that you'd wear it one day.” he replied.
Shanelle stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn't believe he wanted her to wear something that belonged to his mother.
“No Marquise I can't. As beautiful as it is, I can't wear this. I wouldn't dare disrespect Eleanor, like that.”
As she went to take it off he stopped her.
“Please don't take it off. I want you to wear it. I want the world to see you wear it. It's a beautiful crown and it deserves to be worn by a beautiful woman. This is one of the many gifts I have for you. I want to see you shine in it. And okay, maybe I wanna stick it to the old codger my mother called her husband.”
Shanelle looked back at herself one last time before nodding resolutely.
“If it means that much to you, I’d be honored to wear it. Besides, anytime we get to stick it to the old man is a perk for me.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
He offered her his arm as they walked out of the vault. When they got to the main dining room Shanelle was nervous and Marquise knew it.
“Nervous love?” he whispered.
“That obvious?” she replied.
Marquise kissed her cheek.
“No need to be nervous. Let's take a deep breath, straighten our shoulders, and command the room and those within it the way it's supposed to be.”
Shanelle snickered.
“You are about to have fun with this aren't you?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he replied.
With a nod to the guard at the door, the doors opened and the couple made their debut.
“All rise!” the herald announced. “Introducing His Majesty King Marquise Rys and Her Majesty Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys!”
They entered the room to fanfare and with all eyes on the two of them. It was the first time in a long time that Marquise didn't hate hearing his name be announced to a room full of nobles. When he looked out into the crowd he saw her parents as well as George and Margo. Both couples stood proudly as they watched their children, the new Monarchs enter the room. When his eyes landed on the sour faces of his father and stepmother and then Shanelle’s aunt and uncle, he couldn't help the satisfied smirk that crossed his lips.
As they reached the middle of the room, Marquise held up a hand to silence everyone in attendance.
“Good evening one and all! On behalf of my gorgeous wife, I want to say thank you to everyone and welcome you all to the very first state dinner hosted by your newest Monarchs. Now I know that some of you are still getting used to the idea that little ole me has gone from Prince Of North Cordonia to the King Of Cordonia now. But I assure all of you that as your new King, it is my goal to make sure that Cordonia begins to thrive and work for all of us. And now I believe my beautiful wife would like to say a few words.”
Shanelle shook her head before addressing the crowd.
“First off, good evening everyone! Thank you all for attending this dinner tonight. I know there have been a lot of changes within the kingdom since His Majesty and I were married and we came home. But I promise all of you that these changes are for the greater good of Cordonia for all Cordonians. We have made it our mission to be mindful of all of you as well as the people when decisions are to be made. We want a prosperous kingdom for Cordonia and all of her people.”
Marquise smiled at her before addressing the room.
“Please everyone be seated so dinner can be served.”
As they took their seats, Shanelle noticed the venomous look on Naya’s face.
“Husband of mine.”
“Yes, my love?” he asked.
“Your ex is giving me the death stare to end all death stares,” she replied.
Marquise groaned.
“She'll get over it. Now let's eat.”
As they ate, Shanelle couldn't shake the uneasy feeling of being watched. After dinner and dessert, it was time for dancing. The room watched the couple take their first dance as King and Queen. Shanelle still felt uneasy as she danced with her husband and soon her father. And he noticed how troubled his daughter looked.
“Are you alright my darling?” he asked as they danced.
“Yes, Daddy. I'm okay,” she replied.
“Are you sure? Because you don't look okay.”
Shanelle sighed.
“I think I’m being stalked.”
“By who?” Damien asked.
“Princess Naya Laurent-Sauvageon. Better known as His Majesty's former lover.” Shanelle replied.
Damien nodded his head.
“She's King Elgin’s daughter, yes?” Damien asked.
“Yeah, that's her,” Shanelle replied.
“I grew up with her mother Queen Bernadette. She was on my school’s debate team with me.”
“What was she like?” Shanelle asked.
“She had her…peculiarities that's for sure. But she was mostly harmless.” Damien replies.
“Yeah well her daughter isn't.”
“I'll speak to Marquise about amping up your security.”
“You don't have to do that Daddy. I'll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Shanelle replies.
“You can't blame me for being protective.”
Shanelle kissed her father on the cheek.
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you too my darling.”
As that night wound down Shanelle’s feet started to hurt so she stepped out into a side garden and sat down on a bench to rest with the music
“Ugh! My feet! Note to self: don't wear heels to a state dinner.” she said as she rubbed her aching feet.
“Good evening, Your Majesty.” a voice called out.
When Shanelle looked up she found herself looking at Naya.
“Good evening, Princess. Can I help you with something?” Shanelle asked.
“Yes, I was hoping I could have a moment of your time,” Naya replies.
Shanelle sized Naya up.
“Sure. What can I help you with?” she asked.
“Let's take a walk, shall we?” Naya suggested.
Shanelle looked at Naya sideways.
“Lead the way, Princess.”
The two walked down the cobblestone path toward a small pond.
Naya cleared her throat.
“Now that we're alone, I have a question for you.”
“Yes?” Shanelle asked.
“When are you leaving?” Naya asked.
That question stopped Shanelle in her tracks.
“What do you mean?” Shanelle replied.
“Just what I asked. When are you leaving?”
Shanelle started to get annoyed.
“I don’t know if you know this Naya, but I’m not going anywhere. I am the Queen Of Cordonia after all.”
Naya scoffed.
“Not for long.”
“What the hell are you–” Shanelle started to ask before Naya pulled a knife on her.
“You crazy bitch! Are you insane?!” Shanelle shouted.
“No. I'm tired. I am tired of you and I’m tired of seeing you with the man that is supposed to be mine. So we are going to take a walk and then you will disappear permanently.” Naya replied.
“I'm not going anywhere with you!”
“You don't have a choice, Your Majesty.” Naya sneered.
That's when Naya lunged at Shanelle but she was able to dodge. When Naya turned around Shanelle grabbed for the knife and the two struggled to gain control. Shanelle had just knocked the knife out of Naya’s hands when Naya kicked her in the stomach. Naya had just wrapped her hands around Shanelle’s neck when she was pulled off by Marquise.
“Guards! Over here!” he shouted.
A few guards rushed to their King’s side followed by Shanelle’s parents.
“Arrest her now!” Marquise ordered.
As the guards subdued Naya, Marquise checked on his wife.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“No, I’m not alright! Your crazy ass ex just tried to kidnap and then kill me!” Shanelle said as she tried to catch her breath, “How did you know where to find me?”
“When you didn't come back inside, your parents got worried and they came to me. That's when I had the guards go looking for you. When they heard you shouting they alerted me.”
When the guards presented Naya to Marquise he was furious.
“Get this woman out of my sight!” he hissed.
“Shall we escort her to the dungeons?” the guard asked.
“Yes. And find Lord Tariq! Now!” Marquise replied.
The couple and her parents watched as the guards hauled Naya away; that's when Shanelle looked at her father.
“What were you saying about her mother being harmless?” Shanelle asked Damien.
Later that night while Shanelle was safely with her parents, Marquise was in his office with Tariq.
“My wife did what?!” Tariq asked.
“You heard me. She tried to kidnap and kill your Queen.” Marquise replied.
“Your Majesty, surely there must be some logical explanation for this.”
“Oh, you want a logical explanation for this? Here it is, your wife is fucking crazy and she will be stripped of her title and lands.”
“No Marquise please don't do that!”
“You don't get a say in the matter, Tariq.”
“Your Majesty, I beg you not to strip her of her title and lands. Because doing so would weaken my family’s standing in the court as well as hers. I will do anything to make sure that doesn't happen.”
Marquise looked at him.
“You'll do anything?” Marquise asked.
“Yes, my King! Anything. Just name it.” Tariq replied.
Marquise thought for a moment.
“Here's the deal. You are to go pick your wife up from the dungeons and you two are to never return to my palace unless I send for you both. Also, you are to keep her under lock and key. She does not leave your house and duchy without you at her side. I don’t care if she's going grocery shopping or going to see her father. You will be with her while she is among the populace at all times. If I see her out or if I hear she has traveled outside of your home much less your duchy without you, I will publicly execute you both. Is that clear?”
Tariq swallowed hard.
“I asked you a question, Tariq.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”
“Good. Now get out!” Marquise hissed.
Tariq scurried out of Marquise’s office.
Marquise shook his head at the memory as he got ready for bed.
The next day he and Shanelle were up bright and early. After breakfast with their daughter and getting her off to school, Their Majesties were getting dressed for the trial. Once his regalia was on, Marquise went to check on his wife. She had just finished pinning her hair so that it flowed down her right shoulder when her husband walked in. Because of her being so far along in her pregnancy, she chose to wear a simple olive green Maxi dress.
“You are a vision to behold my Queen,” he said as he walked up behind her.
“And you are a kiss ass, Your Majesty. But I appreciate the compliment,” she replied as she stood up from her vanity. “Well don't you look official.”
Marquise smiled proudly.
“Like the Kings of old!” he replied.
Shanelle shook her head.
“You're such a dork. Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yes. I don't have a choice not to be,” he replied.
“Marquise look at me.”
Marquise looked at his wife.
“I know that this trial will affect you. Because as strong and confident of a leader as you are, my King, I know that there's still a small part of you and your heart that still cares for Naya.”
Marquise sighed deeply.
“You're right there is. I will always care for and about her. There's even a part of me that wishes I didn't have to do this. Hell, if I’m to be quite honest with you, I don't want to do this. But she brought this on herself. She forced my hand.”
“I know. And I know you don't like this. I get it but as you and I both know, we have to do things and make decisions that neither of us will like or necessarily agree with. As you've taught me it comes with the territory of being the Monarchs.”
Marquise had a look on his face.
“What is it?” Shanelle asked.
“There's a bug in my ear,” he replied.
“Ew!”
“Not that kind of bug.”
“Then what do you mean?” she asked.
Marquise sighed.
“Something my father said to me years ago,” he replied.
“Oh, dear God! What?” she asked.
Marquise took a deep breath before contorting his face to mirror Constantine’s scowl.
"Pretty soon you'll find out that you can't have it all. You will have to make decisions that you won't like. Ones that will haunt you. And you'll have no one to blame but yourself and that girl you're so in love with."
“A.) don't ever do that again. B.) ugh! What the hell would he know anyway?” she asked.
“He knew that if something like this were to ever happen, I wouldn't know how to handle it,” he replied.
Shanelle took her husband's hands in hers.
“Stop it. Stop it right now. Connie said that to attack you and shake your confidence in yourself and your abilities as King. Don't you dare let what that old bastard said to you get to you. You are ready. You are willing. And God knows you are able, Marquise. So let's go.”
Marquise nodded his head with a smile.
“Thank you, my love. I appreciate you,” he said before kissing her softly on her forehead.
“You're welcome babe. Now we have a trial to get to.”
“Indeed we do.”
He offered her his arm.
“Milady.”
“M’lord.”
The two walked out of her closet and headed to the northern wing of the palace where the trial is to take place. As they walked, Shanelle got curious.
“Now why is the trial in this part of the palace?” she asked.
“Because this part of the palace stands on top of the old courthouse. It was burned down when the old palace was burned down back in the 1700s,” he replied.
“What a time that must've been,” she said.
“Indeed.”
When they reached the doors of the courthouse, Marquise closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Shanelle laid her head on his right shoulder. He opened his eyes with a smile before kissing her forehead gently.
“Well, this is it. Are you ready, Your Majesty?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
“Then lead the way, my King.”
Marquise squared his shoulders and then nodded to the guard at the door. The herald on the other side could be heard.
“All rise and remain standing for Their Majesties! Introducing His Majesty King Marquise Rys! And Her Majesty Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys!”
With the announcement of their arrival, the couple donned stoic masks as they entered the room. All eyes were on them as they made their way to their seats. All of the Heads Of State were in attendance as well as Shanelle’s family and Tariq’s family. Once at their seats, Marquise addressed everyone in the room.
“Everyone be seated.”
Everyone took their seats as Giancarlo addressed the room.
“Good morning everyone. We are here today because one Princess Naya Laurent-Sauvageon-Miller stands accused of the murder of the former Lord Tariq Sauvageon of Duchy Arnaud. Her Highness’s former husband.”
Many in the room started to whisper amongst themselves. As Carlo continued with his opening speech, Marquise looked in Naya’s direction, he watched her have her eyes trained downward.
“You think she's scared?” Shanelle whispers to Marquise.
“She’s terrified. Because I got a look at Giancarlo’s witness list, the original coroner is one of the witnesses,” he replied.
“Does he know that you have the new autopsy report?” she asked.
“Probably not. Because he wouldn't be on the witness list if he knew,” he replied
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because I could charge him with conspiracy,” he replied.
“Really?” she asked.
“Yes. It would be the same as charging him with tampering with evidence in America,” he replied.
“Safe to say she did not think any of this through.”
“That could be a gift for the defense.”
“How?” she asked.
“They could argue that only someone with intent to kill Tariq could pull this off,” he replied.
Shanelle shrugged.
“I mean she did hate him.”
“She hated the circumstance she was in. Not him.”
“Then why kill him?” Shanelle asked.
“I guess we'll find out,” he replied.
“One last question, when does this trial end?” she asked.
“It ends when I've heard enough from both sides and I’m ready for the Parliament to vote,” he replied.
Just then Giancarlo had finished his opening statement.
“Thank you, Giancarlo. And now Princess Naya’s legal counsel Lady Stephanie Hellstrom may rise and give her opening statement.” Marquise announced.
Just as Naya’s attorney began their opening statement, an attendant handed Marquise a Manila envelope.
“What's that?” Shanelle asked her husband.
“Let's find out shall we?” Marquise replied.
He opened the Manila envelope and raised an eyebrow as he read the documents within.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Naya was actually telling the truth. This is the result of her pregnancy test. It confirms that she is 12 weeks pregnant,” he replies.
“Seriously?!” she asked.
“Read it for yourself,” he replies.
Shanelle read the report and her face soured.
“Dear God! Here comes the Antichrist. Gird your loins, Your Majesty.”
Marquise rolled his eyes.
“Stop that.”
“So what happens now?” Shanelle asks.
“Once Lady Hellstrom is done with her statement, we get this trial underway,” Marquise replied.
“And how long will this last?” Shanelle asked.
“No more than 7 days. I'm not about to drag this out for weeks. We still have a kingdom to run.” he replies.
“Okay. Well, Lady Hellstrom is almost done with her statement.” Shanelle to him.
“Good. Let's get this show on the road.”
Once Lady Hellstrom was done with her statement, Marquise cleared his throat and addressed everyone in the room.
“Now that both sides have given their openings, the trial may commence. Both will present their cases and once I have heard both sides, I will end the trial and the Parliament will convene. Members of the Parliament will then vote to either convict or acquit. Both sides get two days each to present witnesses for questioning and evidence for their cause. Any witness can be called or recalled by myself or Her Majesty at will. The prosecution may now present their case.”
Giancarlo nodded.
“Thank you, my King. As my first witness, I'd like to call Lord Dr. Bailey Oscar the Medical Examiner of Duchy Arnaud.”
Shanelle glanced at her husband who was stone-faced. Many watched as the elderly man took his seat in front of the King and Queen.
“Lord Oscar. Thank you for coming this morning. Now you performed the autopsy on Lord Tariq did you not?” Giancarlo asked him.
“Yes, sir. I performed the autopsy.” Lord Oscar replied.
Marquise steepled his fingers together.
“Tell me what was your cause of death?” Giancarlo asked.
“Organ failure. From what I gathered during the autopsy, Lord Tariq's organs had slowly been failing for months.” Lord Oscar replied.
“Could you tell me how a man who was relatively healthy suffered from organ failure?” Marquise asked.
“Acute organ failure can happen to any one of us my King. But in the case of Lord Tariq, I determined that he had a sepsis infection.” Lord Oscar replied.
“And you know this to be true?” Marquise asked.
“Yes sir. Lord Tariq’s sudden organ failure was caused by a sepsis infection.” Lord Oscar replied.
Marquise nodded.
“He's lying,” Shanelle whispered to Marquise.
“I know,” Marquise replied before clearing his throat.
“Lady Hellstrom, do you have any questions?” Marquise asked.
“No sir. I am satisfied and confident in his findings.” Lady Hellstrom replied.
“Very well. I have just one request for you, Lord Oscar. Will you take a look at this?” Marquise asked as he handed off the new autopsy report to an attendant standing to his right.
“Of course my King. May I ask what I’m looking at?” Lord Oscar asked.
“A new autopsy report. I had Lord Tariq’s body exhumed and a new autopsy was done. Can you tell me, Her Majesty, and those of The Parliament what it says?” Marquise asked.
Lord Oscar read the report and his face paled.
“Lord Oscar, what does the report say?” Marquise asked.
“It says that Lord Tariq was poisoned.” Lord Oscar replied.
Gasps were heard throughout the courtroom.
“Poisoned with what Lord Oscar?” Marquise asked.
“It says here that Lord Tariq was poisoned with Cantarella.” Lord Oscar replied.
“But Cantarella poisoning isn't on the original autopsy report you submitted is it?” Giancarlo asked.
“No sir it's not.” Lord Oscar replied.
“Why?” Marquise asked.
“I didn't think to test him for poisons, sir.” Lord Oscar replied.
“You are the Medical Examiner for Duchy Arnaud, how could you not think to test him for poison?” Shanelle asked.
“Because his body showed no signs of poisoning. I didn't think it was necessary. I've never been wrong, my Queen.” Lord Oscar replied.
“Except for this,” Shanelle said under her breath.
“Then we have a dilemma, Lord Oscar because one of these autopsy reports is lying. And I need to know which one.” Marquise said to the Lord.
Lord Oscar fidgeted with his hands.
“Also you know what the penalty for lying to your King is, don't you?” Marquise asked him.
Marquise watched the Lord swallow hard before hanging his head.
“Alright! Alright! I admit it! The autopsy I submitted nearly a year ago is false.” Lord Oscar admitted.
“Explain,” Marquise said to him.
“I ran a toxicology screening on the former Lord and I found that he was poisoned.” Lord Oscar replied.
“Then why lie on the autopsy report?” Marquise asked.
“I didn't lie. I just omitted the true cause of death.” Lord Oscar replied.
“A lie of omission is still a lie, Lord Oscar. But my question is why lie at all?” Marquise asked.
“Because I was told to.” Lord Oscar replied.
“By who?” Marquise asked.
Lord Oscar looked nervously between Marquise and Naya.
“By Lord Tariq’s wife. Her Highness, Princess Naya.” Lord Oscar replied.
“Lord Oscar. How do I or anyone know that you aren't just saying all of this to save your own skin?” Shanelle asked.
“Because I would have everything to lose, my Queen.” Lord Oscar replied.
“What do you mean?” Shanelle asked.
“When Lord Tariq died, Her Highness inherited the duchy. She begged me to change the cause of death. Said that she would lose everything if his true cause of death came out. And initially, I declined to do so, but she said that if she lost everything then she’d make sure that I would lose everything. I couldn't put my family through that. So I went ahead and changed the cause of death.” Lord Oscar replied.
“What were you saying about this being a gift for the defense?” Shanelle asked her husband.
“Thank you for your time, Lord Oscar. You will return the day after tomorrow for the defense to question you as well.” Marquise said to him.
Lord Oscar bowed before taking his seat amongst those in attendance. Shanelle was thankful his testimony took two hours because she was starting to get hungry.
“Think we can break for lunch now?” she whispered to her husband. “These munchkins are trying to tell me something.”
“Very well,” he whispered back before addressing the room, “we will take this time to break for a 90-minute lunch. Giancarlo, I expect your next witness at the break’s end.”
“Yes, my King,” Giancarlo replied with a head bow.
Marquise helped his wife out of her seat before they made their way out of the courtroom. As they walked, Marquise shot off a text to have lunch brought to them. They walked to a sitting room with French doors that led out to a small garden.
“Are you comfortable, my love?” Marquise asked his wife.
“Yes. This couch is doing wonders for my back. That chair is too hard.” she replied.
“I apologize. Even I forgot how hard those old seats are. I'll have a cushion put in yours so you'll be a little more comfortable as the trial goes on.”
“Thank you, baby. So when does this trial adjourn?” she asked.
“4:00 pm every day. I'm not about to spend all day staring at Naya shed crocodile tears,” he replied.
Shanelle snickered.
“You are so mean sir.”
He shrugged.
“If you say so. Now how are you feeling? Anything sore?” he asked.
“No, but I think it's a good idea that I put my feet up,” she replied.
Marquise tapped the inside of his right thigh so she could rest her feet on his lap. It made Shanelle giggle when he took off her flats and started to massage her feet.
“You and your foot fetish.” she giggled.
“Look, you have your kinks and I have mine,” he said before kissing the sole of her right foot. “I don't judge you so don't judge me.”
“You are so grumpy! Wait until I tell your daughter how you've been visiting the planet of Grumpola again.”
Marquise rolled his eyes with a smirk. He found the pressure point on her foot and kneaded a circle into it disarming her.
“Oooh!” she cooed.
He watched her squirm in delight before he stopped, causing her to pout.
“Nooooooo!” she whined.
“If you want more of that you'll keep your mouth shut and not tell my daughter anything. Understand?” he asked.
“Yes, Grumpy Bear,” she replied.
“That's Mr. Grumpy Bear to you.”
This was a side of him that she loved. Many have often assumed that because of his calm nonchalant nature, Marquise is soft. But Shanelle knows better than anyone that that's never been the case.
He is just as dominant as she is. He's just not outwardly open about it as she is. He has always preferred to be the quiet yet firm and unrelenting type. He always has to keep his emotions in check. And she appreciates that about her husband. It's always what makes him so sexy to her.
#khoicesbyk#choices#choices stories you play#pixelberry#fanfic#choices fanfiction#love everlasting#king marquise#queen shanelle#king of cordonia#queen of cordonia#king and queen of cordonia#black king liam#black love#black marriage#black couple#choices fic writers creations#otp forever#my otp for life#my otp forever#my otp is perfect#otp#my otp of otps#KLAW#kingliamappreciationweek
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Listen to your soul
I haven't been writing much but I absolutely cried while listening to a song the other day and decided to let that frustration out.
This fic is inspired by the song COMA by Issues.
Pairing: SpencerxGN!Reader
TW: Car accidents, gore, terminal illness, trauma, grief
“I think he might be using a boat actually.” Everyone turned to face you, clicking away on the keyboard. You sent the image to Penelope and she blew it up on the monitor. “Those are tire tracks yes, but they’re too small to be for anything other than a trailer or a small sedan. Judging by the pattern, you can see they’re new, bald tires don’t leave this much tread.”
He shouldn’t have shouted at you last night. He knew that now, but his pride had gotten the better of him.
He couldn’t admit the truth and now he was watching the wreck of your car rolling down to the river bank.
He slammed on the brakes, Morgan dashing out of the car to catch the guy running from the wreck, and Spencer ran to where the SUV you had been driving was laying. He climbed onto the side, pushing the broken glass out of the way with his sweater, the dark red one you gave him for Christmas the year before.
He could hear the faint muffling of Prentiss on the phone, but all he could see was your limp body.
“I’m coming. Please hang in there…” He slid the door open, shakily pulling his pocket knife out to cut your seat belt.
“Reid!” JJ slid down the slope, coming up behind him. “I’m here to help, can you reach her?”
“Hold on…” His hand slipped into the collar of your jacket, blood staining his hand. He tugged and you came free of the seat belt. “JJ grab the back of my legs. I need an anchor.” She pressed firmly, and Spencer Inhaled, lifting you up and into his arms. “I got you, just a bit longer.” JJ reached up to grab you, Spencer dropping from the side of the car.
“Spence…” He grabbed you, pulling you towards him, checking your pulse and breathing.
The ambulance came blazing in, EMTs pulling you out of his reach and onto the stretcher.
“I need to go with her.” The two people loading you in shrugged and let Spencer in the back to sit with you.
“Reid…” Morgan sat next to him, the two of them staring at the door to their room. “Did something happen between you two last night?” He nodded, head still in his hands.
“I was an idiot Derrick. I’ll probably never get the chance to apologize.” A doctor stepped out, and the two of them stood up.
“Hi, Dr. Yang.” The two of them shook her hand. “I think it’s better I show you rather than explain.” She led them into the room, her hand grazing yours, to have no response again. “We had to declare them comatose. Most of the glass was removed, but there will be scarring as the tissue heals.” She paused before pulling up an MRI scan. “Were either of you aware that she had a tumor?”
They both shook their heads, Spencer’s face draining as he sat down next to you. “We may be able to operate, and it’s possible to Tumor can be removed and that’s what's causing the coma, but the chances of survival right now are slim. We’ve already attempted to do a blood transfusion, and it would be risking a lot. We’ll need to consult the person listed as a medical attorney, Aaron Hotchner.”
Hotch had always considered you a friend, was even honored that you had chosen him and Jack as family. Jack who always called you his big sister. Hayley had adored you, even during your internship when you offered to babysit for them to take date nights.
And Hotch… he knew about everything. When you ran away from home, to the day you found out you had cancer.
“You knew Hotch?”
He nodded at Spencer's question, unable to take his eyes off you. “They were living with us when they found out. Made me swear not to tell anyone. Said they didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for them.” Spencer started to piece it together. The first night you invited him out was shortly after you had moved in with Hotch. “They were scared of how you would perceive them. They wanted to stay as the strong character built up in everyone's minds. I’ve talked with the Dr. I’m going to have them do the surgery.” He left Spencer to his thoughts, giving him some time to grapple his emotions before they wheeled you into the OR
“ I don't know where you are in your mind, but listen to your soul trying to find its way back to your heart, from the car to the ER. Just think of me and pull yourself back to creation.” His voice was quiet, the words filling the air around the two of you. You had to make it.
He stood in the middle of the hallway, watching half of his heart being wheeled away, stomach full of stones. He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning towards Penelope, who gently guided him out of the hospital. He prayed to any and every god that night, despite not having a firm belief in them. “To see your face light up would give me nothing but bliss. I wanna be all you think about. Anything and everything you dream about, as if I had it all figured out. I wanna be the one you can't breathe without, if you could open your eyes…”
Now he just had to wait.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid
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Could you,,maybe,,write a scene from your deaf! Race au please? Maybe when his and Jack’s parents die? Or when him and Jack are stuck with Snyder?
Of course I can!
TW: minor character deaths, comatose character
Race was shaking. He couldn’t stop crying and no one would write anything down for him. He didn’t know how long he’d been here. But the nurses were running around this room and then leaving and Race was left staring at his big brother who hadn’t opened his eyes in far too long. Race pushed at his shoulder, trying to wake him up. He hit the older boy’s chest, desperate for someone to explain to him what was going on.
He hit the older boy one more time, unaware that he was whimpering and screaming, wailing and disrupting the entire floor. It wasn’t until someone swooping down in front of him, between him and his brother that Race began to heave for air. He curled up in his chair and continued crying as an old man looked him right in the eyes and began to sign with him. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” the man explained. “My name is Todd Kloppman.” He gently showed the child his name sign.
The boy whimpered and he began signing faster than he ever had before. He was hyperventilating as the man, Kloppman, gently began to sign to him. “Jack’s okay,” he assured. “He’s really sleepy, he’s just resting.” Race peaked around to look at Jack again. His big brother had a lot of purple and brown and blue all over him. Kloppman just kept signing. “He’s going to be alright.”
With a small sniffle, Race looked up at the man and, with shaky hands, signed slowly, “Mom? Dad?” he asked, not understanding why his parents weren’t here. Mom had a lot of blood all over her and they hadn’t been trying to get her out. He wanted to know where she was so that she could hold him or make Jack’s feel better.
The old man sighed. He lifted up his hands. “Mom and Dad are angels now,” he explained gently. “They love you so much, but they had to go up to heaven now—“
“Tell them to come back!” Race insisted, throwing his hands in Kloppman’s face. He stood up on the chair. “I want mommy! Tell her to come here!”
Kloppman stood in front of Race and gently scooped him up, hugging him tightly as the six year old had to process information he’d never had to come to terms with before. After a small struggle, the boy melted into Kloppman’s embrace, sobbing and allowing himself to understand that his parents weren’t coming back to him. The old man rocked him and rubbed his back. The poor child had been here for three days. His parents had been gone for three days and no one bothered trying to explain that to this young child.
The boy must have been starving, in need of water or a bathroom. They said he hadn’t moved from this room in days. So Kloppman pulled away from him. “You’re alright,” he promised. “I’m gonna help you, okay? Let’s go get you cleaned up and get you something to eat, okay?”
Race peaked over Kloppman’s shoulder to look at Jack one more time before he nodded and allowed Kloppman to set him on the floor and take his hand, leading him out of the room. He looked up at the old man before wiping at his tears with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He looked up as they walked through the halls and Race could see Kloppman’s mouth moving. He was talking to the nurses. It looked like he was mad, absolutely furious.
The nurses looked between him and Race and Race just glanced back at Jack’s room, hoping that his big brother wouldn’t choose to become an angel like his parents. He just wanted his brother.
#anonymous#anon#anon ask#newsies#newsies live#newsies musical#newsies au#newsies fanfiction#newsies fandom#racetrack higgins#jack kelly#kloppman#modern era#modern au#modern#modern newsies#much love#deaf au#deaf race#deaf character#sign language#hospitalization#minor character death
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Cirque du Hollow → PLOT DROP
Trigger Warnings: Discussions of poisoning, illness (including symptoms) and coma-like states.
-
Life won’t be the same in Redwood Hollow.
Halloween night falls, and the town are more than ready to put last year’s event behind them. The circus is in town, and so far, it has gone off without a hitch. No signs of terror or turmoil, save for on the faces of those who weren’t quite brave enough for the haunted house. Or the clowns. There is something to be said for a true circus clown on All Hallow’s Eve.
But, I digress. The October festivities went as plainly as they had in previous years, ignoring last year’s hiccup with Alice Little. Ignoring the Valentine’s tragedies. Ignoring Adam’s sudden illness at the Hollow Hootenanny.
Until...
Yes, there is always an until.
It began with a single call to the ambulance service, after a carnival goer collapsed, just outside the big top. It was at first assumed that they fainted from the heat. After the long, hot summer, October seems to be quite mild this year. They did not wake up from their faint, and were taken by ambulance to Redwood Hollow Hospital.
Not 10 minutes later, there was another, at the other end of the carnival, near the bars and snack vans. They had been seen in an apparent drunken stupor before they collapsed. Medical staff on scene called a second ambulance when they were unresponsive to attempts at waking them up.
If it had just been two, it might have been a coincidence. Big events like this have first aid bays for a reason, after all. But it was strange.
Without any apparent link, a number of attendees suddenly became either ill, or appeared to be drunk out of nowhere. Within 15 to 30 minutes of these strange symptoms appearing, those affected would also fall into a faint, and become unresponsive to attempts to wake them all.
Medical staff have arrived at the scene, as have the RHPD, but so far they have been unable to find a link between the cases. They advise all attendees to be vigilant, and to report any suspicious activity immediately.
OOC Information
Welcome to our next big plot drop! Some important things to note, about how your characters may interact with this plot drop:
The plot drop is happening In Character on October 31st, but you may react to it now, pretending that we are actually already in Monday. (Time is fake, y’know?)
A batch of Pepsi syrup has been spiked at one of the drink vendors, unbeknownst to the staff. It has been spiked with Mr. Borovsky’s potion.
The potion only works to give memories back to its intended victim (in the same way that Alice, Adam, Cass and Cyrus have gotten theirs back). The player in question has been messaged already.
If the potion is given to anyone who it is not intended for, then the memory restoring qualities will not work.
For you, this means that any character who has accidentally taken the spiked Pepsi/ potion will fall unconscious within 15 to 30 minutes of taking it, and be comatose for 2 weeks in character.
During this 15/30 minutes they may develop severe dizziness, tremors, nausea and an extremely high temperature, appearing either unwell or drunk before passing out.
When they wake, they will suffer confusion and temporary memory loss for up to a month. Their memory long term may also be affected, but not severely. (We aren’t talking Dory in the long term.) They will not regain the memories of their past life at this stage.
It is your choice whether your character is directly affected by this plot drop, or if they have simply fallen witness to it.
If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know!
All threads must be trigger warning tagged with poisoning tw along with any other tags you feel are appropriate such as those I have used in the tags for this post. Remember to also tag them with event tag #happiestevent8
#disney rp#disney roleplay#lsrpg#ouat rp#fairytale rp#plot drop#happiestevent#happiestevent8#alcohol mention tw#drug mention tw#poisoning tw#medical tw
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it's a way we had over here with living with ourselves.
we cut 'em in half with a machine gun and give 'em a band-aid.
it was a lie.
and the more I saw them, the more I hated lies.
an independent multimuse for the characters kazuhira
miller, yevgeni borisovitch volgin, jack krauser
- please read rules before following.
penned by han.
beta editor only (unfortunately, rip)
MAIN | CARRD | MEME TAG | INTEREST TRACKER
ㅤ1ㅤㅤmultimuse / verse / oc / dupe friendly. i'm only selective in terms of i can't follow everybody back purely due to time & content. i want this blog to be an enjoyable, casual place to be. if you want to interact - deffo approach me and we can work something out !
ㅤ2ㅤㅤrated 18+ due to the series content which includes themes of torture / war crimes / mentions of child soldiers / blood & gore / violence / sexual violence / mental anguish / suicide-ideation etc. volgin's character is a large part of why this blog is rated 18+. he is a sadist, highly sexual & violent. i wont sugarcoat him for the sake of this blog. triggers will be tagged 'tw;-'. this blog will contain dark content. do not follow if you think that this will be a problem.
ㅤ3ㅤㅤthis blog is a drama-free and casual zone. i have zero time for tumblr shit. callouts aren't welcome, dnis will be acknowledged but not necessarily followed.i have no issue with things that people want to write, so long as they're respectful about it.
ㅤ4ㅤㅤshipping is welcome but it has to be noted that all of these men are messed up guys. volgin is a super sadist who will accidentally (and sometimes purposely) shock his lover's during sex. kaz is an incredibly broken man with anger issues & an obsession turned bad. krauser is a mess. all need help. shipping is welcome but i urge we discuss it before hand.
ㅤ5ㅤㅤi focus primarily on kaz during his mgsv era and onward. though his younger self will sometimes be alluded to / spoken about and maybe even written, i'd rather explore his character from mgsv onward. as for volgin, i focus largely on his mgs3/v self. though he's technically 'comatose / dead' in mgsv, i write him as having thoughts and feelings whilst he's the 'man on fire'. as you can tell, this blog began as an mgs blog - krauser, i will write during any timeline.
ㅤ6ㅤㅤfeel free to request my discord to talk plotting or chat shit ! ims are fine for talking but please don't be offended if i dont respond immediately. i'm quite slow due to personal obligations; however, if you message me requiring immediate attention, i will do my best to respond quickly.
ㅤ7ㅤㅤa lot of my portrayal is headcanon-based. there are certain fanon opinions, i do not share. i will not write volgin as a rapist so don't even suggest it. nor will i write rape / sa. i will not even look at shipping with underrage characters or writers. though i dont judge others for what they want to write, i don't want to be forced to write things i'm not interested in entertaining.
ㅤ8ㅤㅤimportant - i've added this rule because i feel it's incredibly important to me. this blog is low activity, and by extension - i am, too. i cannot be here 24/7, i cannot reply to ims and messages frequently. i have suffered a massive personal tragedy in the last few months, alongside this i'm in my final semester of university and i'm working. when i don't reply to a message, it's never anything personal, i apologise for not being quicker. if i don't reply in 1-2 weeks, you are welcome to nudge me. but please have some understanding as to why i may be slow. thank you.
ㅤ9ㅤㅤimportant to add on from the previous rule - i have zero patience now for those who take silence personally. if you think i have an issue with you because i have not replied to a message - ask me. i have zero tolerance for the expectations of being here 24/7. as stated above, my dad died suddenly in january of this year. i am in my final semester of uni, i am currently working with my manager to expand our business. i hate writing this rule because i'm a laid-back person who gives my partners the same space i expect, but if you're the sort of person who will reply to 1-2 weeks silence with a block or a shitty comment, do not follow or interact with me.
ㅤ10ㅤㅤa final addition re threads ; i am diagnosed with migraines and unfortunately can't handle heavily formatted text. i would prefer text be simplified ( it can be small or normal ) but heavy use of colouring and space does effect my eyes. i'd prefer text unformatted or small - if this can't be changed, i understand. if you can - bless you. also, regarding threads - my way of writing is to merge character responses and dialogue. i can't write opposite characters who respond separately to each and every line of dialogue as i don't feel it's natural. please keep this in mind when writing with me, my character usually will merge their thoughts / dialogue to whatever was the last thing said by your character.
i know these rules might seem a bit dickish but im just a little exhausted when this is meant to be a fun hobby, it's nothing personal. i just wanna have a good, chill time
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Tw: rape and kidnapping mentions but it didn't actually happen to me (don't worry) it was just a really weird and somewhat disturbing dream
Me yesterday before sleeping: I'm going to see my cousin (my best friend/soul mate) tomorrow YES finallllyyyy aaàaaaaaa tomorrow is gonna be such a goood daaay
Me in my sleep: *dreams about being kidnapped by a married couple and an anime character from aot; the married couple then proceeds to somehow get another older versions of themselves, takes me to their room (I'm pretty sure i didn't know what the hell was going on), and gets me into a 5 some with the two couple's versions*
Me after waking up: .... why are you like this-
Soooo... yeah that happened i guess lol
The couple were really fucking excited i was there too and were like trying to be affectionate and focus on me
Also the aot character (whom i will not say their name even tho i remember them) wasn't there when this fucked up thing was going and only got back after it happened and carried me pridal style to my bed while being silently pissed off as all hell
Also i was in a comatose-ish state (i was awake just blankly staring somewhere without saying or doing anything) when the aot character came so yeah whatever the fuck happened definitely wasn't with my consent
Idk how to feel about this like luckily I'm not scared or bothered by this but i am kind of disturbed i think
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Hold On (l.s.)
by doesanyonehearrunningwotah
Harry Styles finds his fiance, Louis Tomlinson, near to death on a bathroom floor.
Cause: Attempted suicide.
When Louis is hospitalized, it's all Harry can do to hold himself together, even as his life falls apart around him. Zayn turns up, with ensuing chaos, proposals for a 1D reunion arise, and in the midst of it all, Louis lies comatose in a hospital bed.
Harry only has one thought in his mind;
"Hold on, I still want you.... come back I still need you"
----------------
tw: self harm and suicide mentioned and depicted
larry stylinson + side ziam
based on the song by Chord Overstreet
enjoy ig?
Words: 1326, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: One Direction (Band)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, liam payme, Niall Horan, Lou Teasedale, Nick Grimshaw
Relationships: Larry Stylinson, Ziam Mayne
via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/XjGcnVe
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don't want no other shade of blue but you
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/bRIeO0X
by fitzparker21 (VioletFlash)
Jemma Simmons' favorite color has always been blue.
TW for PTSD, panic attacks, mourning, and a coma
Words: 4306, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz, Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Grant Ward
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May & Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson & Jemma Simmons, Jemma Simmons & Grant Ward, Leo Fitz & Grant Ward
Additional Tags: Jemma Simmons-centric, Jemma Simmons Needs a Hug, Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson Friendship, Academy Era Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons, Protective Jemma Simmons, Jemma Simmons Has PTSD, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons Friendship, Hurt Leo Fitz, Coma, Comatose Leo Fitz, Not Grant Ward Friendly, SHIELD 616 | The Bus, Protective Skye | Daisy Johnson, Parent Phil Coulson, Parent Melinda May, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 02, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, One Shot
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/bRIeO0X
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Tw: Mentions of Suicide & Death
------------------------------------------------------------------
Immortality: Lose Rules For Some Immortal Characters I Have
So basically, I have at least three immortal characters as of now, all of different species (A Vampire, an Elf, and someone who is just plain human aside from immortality)
General Rules:
-As the years go by, you lose your memories
-Your memories go away slowly by minor details first, then significant details, then major parts
-If you get near someone that was previously deeply connected with you, you will get a feeling that you knew the person at some point.
-Poison: Comes out through stool and urinating.
-What happens if an immortal commits suicide?: Obviously, they survive, but if they are physically reminded of the method of the attempt (i.e. someone who tried to hang themselves has hands wrapped their neck), will go comatose, the closest thing to death.
Vampiric Immortality
(More like "how to kill a vampire")
-Vampires can survive a maximum of 48 hours in the sun.
Symptoms of a vampire dying from sunlight exposure:
Third degree sunburns
Pain in burned areas
More tendencies to hide in dark areas or shade than usual
Constant requests for sunscreen, umbrellas, or other things for sun protection
Dry eyes and skin
-Vampires can live for about five days without blood
Symptoms of dying of blood deprivation
Dry mouth
Mood swings
Irritability
Sore throat
Fang rotting
Fatigue and Weakness
Elven Immortality
(So like the one way you can kill an elf)
-Basically, they can be killed by weapons in about the same places as humans. Otherwise, nothing can kill them
"Human"/True Immortality
The rules are pretty much the same as the general rules, and it is the only immortality that isn't eternal consciousness and immunity from death of starvation and dehydration
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𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐯 .