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ohbo-ohno · 4 months

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merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)

5.7k, mind the tags <3

cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)

Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.

It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.

Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.

You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth.

You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart.

Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.

There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year.

But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.

It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.

The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.

You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.

He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.

He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.

There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.”

You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.

There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.

Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.

There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.

You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.

You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.

He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.

You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.

The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.

But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor.

The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.

“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.

“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.

The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”

Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.

“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”

You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs.

He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.

You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.

You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap.

Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.

You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.

“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”

You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.

“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”

Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.

“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”

You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.

The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.

He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.

“Keep movin’, Soap.”

“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”

The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.

Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.

You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.

Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.

You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.

He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.

“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”

“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”

His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.

He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”

You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.

You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.

“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”

You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”

Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.

“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”

The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.

You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”

“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”

You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.

He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.

The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.

You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.

He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.

Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.

“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”

Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.

“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”

You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.

“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?”

“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.

“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”

“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.

“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”

You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure.

It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.

He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body.

“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”

You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.

“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”

Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form.

You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.

He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.

“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back.

He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.

“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”

You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.

You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.

“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”

You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.

“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”

You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance.

The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.

The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true.

He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.

Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.

You don’t even have the energy to beg.

The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.

You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.

He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.

“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”

Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted.

His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.

Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster.

There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.

You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.

“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.

You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships.

So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.

The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.

You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.

Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.

He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.

You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”

You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year.

So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers.

Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.

———————————————————————

You wake, gasping, in a dark room.

You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.

“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”

You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.

He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.

He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked.

Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.

It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”

Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”

Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”

Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.

Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human.

“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”

You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes.

“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”

It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”

The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.

“Is the Purge over?”

The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.

“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”

You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”

Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”

You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”

Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”

“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”

“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”

You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.

“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”

Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”

His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”

You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.

“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”

“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.

Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.

It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds.

Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.

Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.

With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.

#lumi im SORRY hand on the bible i could not tell you why this took me so long #it's pwp. it's pure smut. there is no justifiable reason for this taking a week #i literally have FOUR fucking docs of purge au's rn lmao like when i tell you i tried to write this SO MANY TIMES it was just not happening #ghoap x reader #bo writes #purge au #how do i tag this to get people to see it but not to get people complaining about dark fic to me #...i don't #oh well. special treat for you guys lol

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 19 days

Text

On Kurapika's Self-Imposed Isolation

While I recognize that probably everything I'm about to say is going to be super obvious, I just wanted to briefly touch on Kurapika's self-isolation, and the reason behind his not picking up his phone or exchanging anything more than clipped words and business after Yorknew.

I think the obvious answer is that Kurapika doesn't want his friends in harms way, or to be used as a bargaining tool against him. This is an understandable and probably accurate conclusion. After all, Gon and Killua did get taken hostage, and Kurapika was forced to negotiate an exchange. Chrollo picked up on Kurapika's "weakness" right away - that he values his friends' safety before his revenge. Fortunately for Kurapika in this situation, Pakunoda was a whole lot more similar to him than he would've cared to admit, as she placed a value on Chrollo's life even though everyone in the Spider was intended to be replaceable. So, now that he's been through Gon and Killua having potentially gotten killed or seriously hurt, and Chrollo knows that he has a soft spot for them, it does make sense that he would try to push them away for their safety and for the sake of not having an exploitable "weakness" in future. He may also not want to burden them more when they have their own lives to live - he does slip off without telling Gon and Killua for the sake of not distracting them from Nen training, after all.

Except that he already tried all this earlier in Yorknew arc. He tried to tell them they shouldn't get involved, and they all agreed that the risks were massive - but his friends agreed to undergo the risks anyways to help him. Kurapika was even grateful for it - "I have been blessed with good friends."

So, for him to push them away solely for this reason after the fact, knowing that this was very much a likely situation to happen, is a little odd to me. Kurapika knows full well that Leorio would be frustrated, Killua would be offended and Gon would worry. So, I think there's a little more to it than that, and I actually would venture to say that "keeping his friends out of danger" is more a secondary reason for his actions - one that would come across as more of a reasonable excuse to others.

The primary reason is likely a lot more selfish than that. Kurapika has to ensure his mission comes first. And unfortunately, he is fully aware that his path and choice in abilities is deeply self-destructive.

Kurapika needs to make sure that he doesn't have exploitable weaknesses, sure, but he also just as much needs to purposefully worsen his headspace - and he can't do that with those three around.

Think back, what are the happiest moments we see from Kurapika in the series? The one that comes to mind first, and the one I'm sure most of us will think of immediately, is this:

[ID: A screenshot from the 2011 anime adaptation. Kurapika smiles - he looks at ease. End ID.]

It's one of the sweetest scenes of the series imo, right before the whole group is reunited for the first time since the Zoldyck Family arc, and it's even more notable because it comes immediately on the tail end of this...

[ID: Three panels from HxH Chapter 101. Kurapika removes his contacts over the sink. His expression is distant. End ID.]

...and this...

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 101. A close up of Kurapika's vacant and furious expression, his eyes wide and dangerous as he says "It might as well be you." Though the art is in black and white, it's apparent his eyes have gone scarlet. End ID.]

...and this.

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 101. A distant Kurapika speaks on the phone on a rooftop at night, the cityscape of Yorknew around him dark, but speckled with lights and stars. He says "The Spiders are dead." His face is not visible to the reader. End ID.]

This is, up to this point in the series, Kurapika at his lowest. In contrast to Gon, who is happy to hear that the Spiders are dead already because now Kurapika can focus solely on finding his peoples' eyes, Kurapika... is clearly not happy - and that's because killing the Spiders himself isn't just revenge. It's penance. It's survivor's guilt. Kurapika's powers, which Izunavi even comments sound much like he is chaining himself in the process of chaining his enemies, are oh-so-beautifully prophecied to destroy him - and Kurapika was aware of this from the moment he set off down this path of revenge.

(As a side note, this is why I'm really hoping we see Gon and Kurapika interact again after the Chimera Ant arc - while Gon has always been pretty attentive to Kurapika's emotional state, in Yorknew, he lacks a true understanding of why Kurapika would go so far... but as of now, he understands rage fueled by guilt and grief all too well. I know we're all rooting for Leorio to reach Kurapika, but barring that, I really think Gon could get through to him - after all, they are similar in several ways, and I find it fairly apparent that Gon reminds Kurapika of Pairo.)

But back to the main point here - I do suspect Kurapika expects (if not wants) his revenge mission to destroy him. I think a lot of times, we forget just how young Kurapika is, and how much his character is dictated by honour, and the abandonment of it.

Certainly, he can and will go against his principles for the sake of his mission... yet, almost paradoxically, he's bound to his promise to his fallen clan; a promise to avenge them made in anger.

But Kurapika... doesn't come across as a naturally angry person to me at all.

He seems like the stoic, vengeful type on his initial introduction... and then we get his panic at Gon's recklessness

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 2. Kurapika and Leorio wear matching expressions of panic in front of Gon, calling him out for his recklessness. End ID.]

...and his near-immediate forgiveness of Leorio after getting the first inkling of his character - of someone who cares just as fiercely as he does.

And after that point? Almost all through the Hunter Exam? Kurapika smiles so readily at them. He's sharp and funny. He mediates at times, but is stubbornly prideful in others. He's very amused by his friends' antics, and it really does seem like he starts to enjoy himself, with them. And, more than that, he counters Leorio's initial impression of him as an independent loner - on several occasions. He decides to follow Gon because Gon intrigues him. Asides from Gon, it is Kurapika who is the most unwilling to fight each other at the bottom of Trick Tower. Kurapika who makes the first move to team up with Leorio, even though that arrangement benefits Leorio much more than it does him. Kurapika who refuses to abandon Leorio to his fate in the cave, and who checks on Gon after noticing his bad mood. Who was furious enough watching him get beat down by Hanzo that his eyes went scarlet for the first and only instance outside of Spider mentions and Emperor Time. Who quite readily detoured to help rescue Killua.

[ID: Three screenshots from the 2011 adaptation Hunter Exam arc. In the first, Kurapika smiles at a sleeping Leorio. In the second, Kurapika stifles laughter as he pretends he's asleep. In the third, Kurapika has an open-mouthed smile as he acquires the airship tickets for them, Leorio and Gon standing behind him. End ID.]

Look at him! He's so bright! So happy!

...too happy. Too happy to do what he promised himself he would do. And that's his biggest fear, isn't it. Without his rage... what is he left with?

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 2. A close up of Kurapika's eye as he says "I do not fear death. What I fear is that my rage will one day fade away." End ID.]

Kurapika is far, far less mired in anger when he's with his friends. I actually dare to say that at certain points, he was able to go for lengths of time without thinking much about it - alternating between almost forgetting in one instance and being hit like a sledgehammer on exposure to a reminder in the next. This violent swing is... actually the beginnings of the natural process of healing from loss and trauma. But to Kurapika, who's made a promise to his people's memories, this is not a relief. This is betrayal.

I think that actually scares him, that he can almost picture it. A life beyond his guilt. That he, too, could learn to be happy, even after unimaginable loss.

And so, as Kurapika continues his mission offscreen, finding more and more gruesome reminders of the cruelty inflicted on his people and losing more and more pieces of himself in the process (in his own words, no less), he prioritizes his responsibility to them, and pushes away his distractions. He cannot be a soul at peace until his work is done; he must be in turmoil. He pushes people away who he cares for, and binds himself, and keeps his people's eyes on him, quite literally, because respite, for him, is unacceptable. Perhaps that guilty part of him even hopes, by the end of this, that his soul will be so unrecognizable as to be fundamentally unsalvageable. But the truth of the matter is, or at least what comes across to me, is that Kurapika cares much more fiercely than he hates. He knows what matters most. And for as long as he does, he still hasn't truly lost himself.

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 350. Kurapika looks down at baby Woble with a gentle, yet complicated expression. The inking is somewhat softer. End ID.]

Kurapika's soul is kind, really. And it wants to heal - but for the sake of his mission, he needs it damaged and bleeding. And so, he forces himself to exist in that pain. All alone.

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 344. Kurapika, dressed in a black suit, sits with his back to the reader, looking down at a photo in his hand. He is slumped a little before the church vigil he has prepared, all his clan's eyes lined up in their jars and honoured with flowers and candles. He thinks to himself "There is no home for me to return to... and nobody to welcome me back. I have nothing left." End ID.]

#thank you for coming to my ted talk on how kurapika is worsening his own mental health as well as physical health on purpose have a good day #oh my god this took me so long but it was worth it!!!#actual analysis!!! it's been so long!!!#anyways i'm far shakier on my hxh knowledge than other fandoms i've written meta for #so i hope this makes sense. i appreciate additions to it just please be polite!#i also believe that togashi's writing lends itself to multiple interpretations that are equally valid. so much of this #may be my own takeaway. but i do think there's enough evidence to support it #well. i hope you guys suffer... i mean enjoy.#storyrambles #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh meta #kurapika #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective #<-analysis tag i missed you

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mllenugget · 5 months

Text

Hello I mcyt fandom-ified la Team du Lundi members and wrote a shit ton of text about it

After exhausting myself on trying to catch up on the current QSMP lore I got a sudden craving for a more familiar and fast paced kind of minecraft content and ended up rewatching all the Team du Lundi's SMP best of's I could find

And while doing so with my brain still hazed in fandom brainrot, I started picking up on minor details or info the players casually dropped, and drew parallels to the French speakers' QSMP counterparts This is going to be a long wordy post I don't even know what I am rambling about and for. Three things you need to be aware of about la Team du Lundi before reading :

Baghera, Antoine and Etoiles are the only QSMP players that are part of la Team du Lundi

As far as I remember the only two elements that suggest that la Team du Lundi's SMP could be canon to QSMP are Antoine being pressured into building another Tower of Shit, and Baghera's infamous fountain being mentioned when she was asked if her character remembers anything from her past before the island

La Team du Lundi's SMP was NOT a roleplaying server, it was just a private survival server for a small circle of friends casually playing together. So whenever I quote someone in this specific post, it is the streamer : there is no character other than the persona the streamer is usually showing on stream, but I just thought it would be fun to interpret certain situations while keeping in mind the QSMP lore. And here goes :

Baghera claims that when she was a kid she strongly believed that she could breathe underwater. The others joke about her having fins

Antoine jokingly tells Baghera he doesn’t need oxygen at all

Antoine claims he will still be alive thousands of years forwards

Antoine’s voice shifts when he wants to appear creepy

Baghera built an aquarium at her place, then helped Antoine build one at his tower, then built a giant swimming pool, then a fountain, then a waterslide- do you see a theme ?

Baghera knows that her skin is actually that of a chick and not a duckling, and calls it so here

Chat said that Baghera has a middle child syndrome, justifying that she bullies Angle Droit because Etoiles bullies her in the first place (Etoiles has also called her « little sister » in a derogatory way)

Etoiles has repeatedly asked people to play Valorant with him at least once

Here's a clip of Etoiles getting languaged in french and owing "a gifted sub in the swear jar"

Unrelated random clip of Etoiles because it creates happy hormones in me brain

Etoiles is regularly refered to as "the warrior"

Etoiles guided the whole group during an expedition to the End and he was literally glowing doing so (enchanted arrows effect) Everyone called him "the guide"

Baghera was the one who gave the final blow to the Enderdragon (and died from magic right after)

Etoiles spent most of his time adventuring in order to bring stuff and gear back to everyone for their builds

Etoiles asked Aypierre for help in order to design a redstone door for his cave which could only open upon solving a puzzle (which was egg & arrow related) (Aypierre was not a member of the server)

Etoiles built a nightclub with the walls and ceiling covered in wardenblocks making it look like a starry sky. He also rehomed Allays holding golden apples inside claiming them to be the souls working for him and that they lived there peacefuly

Etoiles jokingly talks about Antoine acting jealous and violent towards him because Etoiles told him he wanted to go and visit Kameto (who also was not a member of the server)

Baghera (along with Horty) had a rivalry with Joueur du Grenier (host of the server with admin powers) after he decided to build a massive parking lot right next to their house. They countered by covering the whole thing with dirt, followed by JDG building a factory and the two parties went back and forth. Baghera argued that it was stupid because they didnt even have cars to begin with (which is a sentence she reused when talking about Forever's roads) Also she tells JDG that he could've built a seaport instead, which makes JDG contemplate the thought of building an airport (and though he ended up never building it, I am side eyeing the French's plane crash)

At some point JDG wonders about what a roleplaying minecraft server would look like (RPZ 2), to which Baghera replies that she has a hard time picturing the thing "We'd all just build things you see ? I don't think we'd create stories, we would all just be like "I'm a builder, ah you too ? Well awesome, builders, cool"" and I find this to be hilariously ironic (fun fact : Baghera had no idea that QSMP was a roleplaying server when she first joined and often claims she would've taken a different approach with her character had she known right off the gate)

As I was finishing to write this down, these fuckers (/lh) decided to host a closure night for the server as they've never really officially did it, everyone just sort of deserted the server after a while. Baghera, Etoiles and Antoine kept referring to QSMP throughout the night, mostly talking about how weird it felt without mods. Among other meta commentary things

They mentionned Cellbit and Bad multiple times as the group was trying to solve enigmas. Antoine talked about "the cultural sharing" between communities as he taught insults to each others with Mike, Roier and Maximus in their respective languages Multiple more players were namedropped (including eggs) while Antoine was talking about how the server functions

Yes, Baghera and Etoiles kept their QSMP skins. Etoiles with his code corrupted purgatory one, and Baghera with her fading pink disheveled hair (with the addition of her cubito wearing Horty's merch)

Baghera admits that going back to this small familiar vanilla server feels like coming back home to your family during the holidays

Team du Lundi's cameos in QSMP :

Though Pomme has never canonically met JDG (even though most of her parents have talked about him to her at least once), she occasionaly breaks the 4th wall to refer to him. She once compared one of BBH's "vacation" flower shirts with his, and when Foolish and Bad asked her to elaborate (obviously not getting the reference) she proceeded to play JDG's music theme with the flute instead (Also I really feel the need to once more point out how mindblowing it is for your average french speaking viewer to have JDG's intro theme being added to the mod they use in the QSMP because of how anchored it is within french internet pop culture. Like this shit has been existing for 14 fucking years, it's part of the childhood of a lot of us, so to find a clip of British hardcore player Philza peacefuly listening to Mexican egg admin Tallulah play this theme on her flute feels like a multiverse fever dream)

Horty has been on Quesadilla Island through cc!Baghera's account, but neither of them really wanted to justify it RP wise. Baghera just wanted to give her best friend a tour of the island. Horty only got to meet Richarlyson who gave her a tour of Cellbit's castle and made her pick a room (she chose Chaos). She also chatted with Etoiles who tagged along for a bit and (this is obviously justified by it being a one-shot out of roleplay filler episode kind of night) they both already knew each other and were on friendly enough terms to bicker with one another Also she was part of the French speakers Quackity reached out to to invite on the server, but she had to decline because she was very busy at that time (and also not interested) Also also she was Baghera's teammate for that Formula 4 event, and Baghera has discussed it and showed pictures to a couple of islanders, including Richas who was very hyped about it

Another player the viewers were hoping to see on Quackity's server is Mynthos. He exists within the server with the picture of him that hangs in Pomme's art gallery, the cursed animation video that used to play in La France, as well as with Aypierre's health potion factory that bears his name

Angle Droit and Zerator are sometimes namedropped when the French speakers talk with their chat. Angle Droit frequently raids Baghera's and Antoine's streams, and though it has never been confirmed, a lot of viewers theorized that she was the +1 player Baghera and Etoiles wanted to invite on the server had they won the elections.

As for Zera, Etoiles went AFK on QSMP a couple of times in order to test some of Zerator's TrackMania maps (which he later discussed with Pac). I also remember a very trivial conversation Etoiles had with Mouse and Aypierre where he laughed about hurting his back very badly after carrying a fellow streamer during a caritative event, said event was hosted by Zerator (he's also the one judging them with concern from his desk)

I'm done.

Bonus alternative design for Angle Droit because at first I thought she was a fox then it turned out she was a corgi but then she changed it again to a fox and woop

#I wrote down a whole other post just as long as this one to explain my individual thought process behind each designs #Took me weeks to write- had a couple of clips to back up my headcanons #but then I was reading the post again checking for mistakes before realizing #yo just #that is so many words and for what #just let your designs speak for themselves hey trust yourself let there be room for interpretation #if people turn out to be curious well i guess thats what ask box was created for leave it be thats enough #(not) fun fact : I drew those Baghera Etoiles & Antoine designs back in june and the files got corrupted and I lost a week worth of work #if we are mutuals on discord youve mightve heard me whine about this one #mcyt #team du lundi #qsmp #angle droit #hortyunderscore #baghera jones #zerator #etoiles #mynthos #joueur du grenier #antoine daniel #serveur du lundi #my art

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prince-liest · 23 days

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I’m a sex-repulsed ace, and reading the latest chapter of 666 (as well as your analysis here on Tumblr) made me realize that I have been subconsciously thinking about MY OWN sexuality from an allo perspective? And that it has kinda been messing me up?? Like, ever since I learned that sexual attraction was actually a Thing and that it’s Important To People, I had been carrying around a fear of being deficient in some way and not being able to love to the same extent as allos. (1)

Even though I know logically that’s complete garbage and totally untrue, I felt left out of the loop because people seemed to care strongly about this thing I couldn’t even imagine. Whenever it looked like a relationship might happen I panicked for a reason that I couldn’t understand. But now I’m starting to realize that it’s because I was subconsciously terrified of an ‘ulterior motive’ behind the other person’s reasons for wanting to be with me. (2) That part of the reason they even cared was because of something I don’t experience. So thank you, because this realization just clicked into place while reading your work. The thing is, this way of thinking was just internalized in such a way that I didn’t even realize it was there until literally this week. And I think you’re right; one of the main reasons behind that is because I’ve always consumed media written from an allo perspective. (3) If ace/aros are shown at all, they’re depicted as “lacking” and their character development usually revolves around being “fixed” by the story. When I was ~10 years old my mom sometimes let me watch the Big Bang Theory with her (looking back, maybe not the best decision). Anyways, there was one episode deep into the series where Sheldon (who for the past nineish seasons was probably the closest thing to mainstream ace rep) has sex with his girlfriend for the first time. (4) Afterwards, he says something along the lines of “that was better than I thought it would be”, and it’s presented as a Very Good Thing and a big step in their relationship. I think a lifetime of stuff like that makes it very easy to internalize aphobia and feel like the lesser part of the relationship. Or to feel like the other partner is making a huge sacrifice to be with you. That got wayy too long, sorry. All that was just a lot of words to say that I appreciate you. Take care of yourself!(5)

The portrayal of asexuality that you see in media being almost exclusively as you described is very tedious to me because it presumes that something is inherently lacking in aro/aceness rather than that feeling of "lacking" being something that is induced by societal norms. Actually, one of the things that I find additionally alienating is that fandom spaces specifically have been getting better and better about ace characters - but got damn does fandom not jive with aromanticism. Like, a character doesn't want to fuck? That's becoming a liiiittle more fine, it's 2024, we stan consent. But not shipping someone romantically?? Not so easy, now.

I'm glad that my work has been something that resonated with you in this respect! Alastor cares a lot about his reputation as a demon but is pretty blatantly a person who could not possibly give less of a shit about being "wrong" for not being experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. The explanation Viv gave at one point for his own understanding of himself (that he thinks he's just "waiting for the right woman") actually stuck out to me a lot because it's a very "well, nothing is wrong with me for not feeling anything, it's the world that's failed to produce a suitable person" perspective.

But having that kind of confident perspective of your own rightness in the world is really not often portrayed in media, or even in fandom, which even ten years ago was still in the throes of standardizing "Oh, no! Me, gay? These feelings are so wrong!" style m/m content and is honestly not that far off from essentially that for aro/ace characters.

Anyway, all of that is to say that there's not yet much out there that doesn't frame allo/amatonormative values as the default that "even aro/ace people can (and should want to) achieve," and that it's really fun to write a fic that is unequivocally from the perspective of a character who is aroace and doesn't see it as even remotely a fault in himself. Does he have moments where he's a little confused and trying to process how things fit for him? Absolutely. But he just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who thinks he owes romance to Vox of all people, hahaha. I've written him trying to conform to allo/amatonormativity more with Mimzy, because I think the social standards of their time could push him into it, but Vox? Absolutely not, he does not respect Vox enough for it to even enter his mind.

And then, on the other hand, writing it from an aroace perspective centers the way that romantic and sexual interest can feel like a betrayal of a good thing. With a character like Alastor, it frames romantic and sexual attraction the same alien way that we usually see aromanticism and asexuality framed as.

In the end, this is just one of a plethora of different experiences that aro/ace people can have, but it's one that I really wanted to see represented more, so I'm very happy to write it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!

#ask #personal #Anonymous #long post #t #aroace #ace #he cares about Vox at this point!#but that's. not really the same as respecting him.#anyway this next chapter is important to me because it's very #how do I put this #“this was okay at the moment but that doesn't mean he's okay with it overall and forever”#“and it does not mean that they've 'progressed' their relationship to the point where Alastor being aroace is a 'nonissue'”#“(feat. ofc the heavy implication that it was an issue in the first place)”#ANYWAY. SOMETIMES I HAVE A HARD TIME EXPRESSING THIS IN NON-FIC WORDS #SO HOPEFULLY THE FIC AS IT CONTINUES SPEAKS FOR ME. I AM GLAD THAT IT HAS SPOKEN TO YOU SO FAR <3 THANK YOU!!#sexuality #my writing #hazbin hotel #this is a hot button topic atm and it took me a minute to write a reply #that didn't seem like it invited discourse lmfao #actually I still feel weird posting my opinion this strongly oops OH WELL

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midnight-moth · 6 months

Note

May I ask for Rain and Dew absolutely smothering Phantom because his anxiety is acting up really bad and the dp helps calm him down

I haven't just written something inside of tumblr without even opening a doc in a long time. Let's give it a go! 1100 ish words of Phantom having a meltdown, Rain and Dew being sweet. And maybe Dew having secret perv thoughts. Also everyone always puts cute or pretty gifs in their writing. Well I feel this one works.

"Where's Phantom?"

"I don't know, actually. Where is he?" Dew craned his neck from his seat on the edge of a folding chair, his eyes drifted away from the knot he was trying to pick out of his laces to Rain's face, creased with worry.

"I'm sure he's around? I mean, he can't have gone far." Words meant to self-soothe but they weren't doing a particularly good job. Rain's legs were already absentmindedly directing him toward the labyrinth of hallways.

"You wanna go look? I wanna go look."

Rain gave Dew a small smile, a silent thank you for taking his worries and making them his own. For not making Rain ask him to go searching for Phantom, for not making him feel like he was concerned about nothing.

For not making Rain explain again that he was worried about the new summon; that despite appearances and reassurances, Rain saw the raw skin beside his thumbnails, the bruised circles carved beneath his eyes, the food he pushed around his plate but never into his mouth.

All of them were nervous, Papa was nervous. It was their first ritual together, at least with this iteration of the band. One without the steadying presence of Aether, the calming comportment of Sunny.

Dew abandoned the knot in his laces and followed Rain out of the greenroom, leaving the various satellite groups of crew and ghoul alike to continue eating, talking, vibrating with excitement about kicking off the tour.

They weaved in and out of the hallway snaking to the rear of the building, still short one quintessence Ghoul and running out of hiding places.The clack of heeled boots finally revealed his location.

“Hey, what’re you doing back here?” Here being a darkened stairwell that led to the catwalks up above the stage.

Whether Phantom heard Dew’s voice or their approach, they weren’t sure. He didn’t react. He just kept up his pacing, 3 steps forward, 5 steps across, 3 steps back, 5 steps over, around and around and around.

Dew, watching him move in the small space felt his own head spinning with vertigo eventually and tore his eyes away to look at Rain, who stood frozen, his arm halfway extended, as if he were about to stop Phantom in his tracks.

“Hey bug, you’re gonna wear holes in your soles. Why don’t you slow down a little?” Phantom’s eyes flit up to Dew’s and then fell back on the toes of his shiny new boots. He did however finally stop moving.

Neither Dew nor Rain were really sure what to do. Neither had really made progress in getting to know the ghoul. What they saw during practice, a charismatic ghoul who was little bit goofy, but also full of joy, had yet to reveal itself in alternate scenary.

“Are you nervous? That’s okay. It’s normal. We all were, and we still are.” Rain took small steps toward him as he spoke, he half expected Phantom to arch his back and howl like a scared cat.

Phantom wanted to answer them, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that if he opened his mouth, all of his insides would come spewing out. Not the contents of his stomach, his lungs, his heart, his spine. He felt like his silence was the only thing keeping his body glued together. Even then he felt the bonds weakening when he looked up at the concerned ghouls in front of him.

“You don’t have to speak. Just - if there’s anything we can do, can you nod?”

Phantom considered whether he could do as Dew asked, whether communicating with him would cause everything to spiral out of control. Whether it would disturb the peace he’d made with that square meter of concrete in the back of the venue.

He nodded slowly, eyebrows quirking up in surprise that in fact, the ground beneath his feet had not shifted or crumbled.

“Good. Okay, do you want water?” No.

“Food?” No.

“Do you want anyone other than us?” No

“Do you want to go outside?” No.

Guilt began to tear at the threads of reality Phantom had clung to since finding the quiet space. Rain and Dew watched him wring his hands in consternation, subconsciously mimicking him, Dew twisted his fingers together, feeling like they were failing him.

“Do you want a hug?” Rain’s voice made them both jump a little.

Phantom nodded his head in affirmation and Rain felt the coil twisting in his chest loosen a little.

Neither had really touched the ghoul, and once again they approached him as they would a feral cat, all but sticking their hands under his nose for him to sniff. Not that they were afraid he would bite or claw, they were afraid he would run.

Rain reached out first, wrapping his arms around Phantom’s tense shoulders, loose, and hopefully non-threatening. Still he felt the ghoul tense under his touch.

Dew reached for his arm, a barely there pat to his bicep, and the ghoul visibly cringed.

“We’re sorry, you can change your mind. I don’t know - we can get Swiss, or Cirrus, or Papa.”

“No”, His voice came out as a croak, his throat dry and tight from his panic induced fugue.

“What can we do?”

“Just - you can touch me, but harder. I dunno why. When I feel - like this, those light touches make my skin crawl. I’m sorry - s’not your fault. I don’t - I don’t -”

“Ah.” Rain nodded. Dew was the same, whether he was upset, sad, anxious, he hated gentle, soft. He wanted heavy and solid.

“It’s okay, I’ll be okay.” Phantom mumbled, feet angling to resume the pattern he’d been wearing into the floor.

Instead, Rain grasped him firmly by the wrists and led him to the wall, pulling the ghoul into his lap and into a most crushing hug, reinforced by Dew, wrapping his arms around the other half of his body.

They both felt him sag and droop a little.

“Better?”

Phantom gave them a barely-there nod, as best he could manage with the limited range of movement. Even as compressed as he was, he felt like his lungs were finally able to take in a satisfying amount of air.

“Don’t worry, we have lots of time. Hours in fact.”

Phantom nodded against Rain’s shoulder, beginning to doze off. The two tails snaking around his torso and the rumbling purrs of their owners nudged him over the edge.

“Is he asleep?” Dew whispered.

“Yeah. He’s drooling on me. Reminds me of someone.”

“Shut up. - Hey, if he likes this maybe he’ll like that other thing you do.”

“One step at a time.”

As Phantom’s mind swam between the conscious and unconscious world, he wondered what the other thing was.

#sorry if there are typos I am so sleepy #squish that ghoul #also this is me if someone tries to touch me lightly while I am v anxious or having a panic attack I will throw up #I dont know what it is I hate it sooooo much #again sorry this took so long I will slowly make my way through the asks #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #midnight moth asks #midnight moth writes #the band ghost fanfiction #i can't help but see that you said DP instead of DPT and well you know what i'm thinking about #that wouldve been very different story #cw anxiety #cw panic attack

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elizaditton · 2 months

Text

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 14)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

- - - - - - - - - -

I stare at my deskmate's hand, dumbfounded. What is he expecting me to do, exactly?

"Well, come on!" Derrick says with a smile. "What are you waiting for?"

"Well, I, um..." I cock my head to the side, as if that would help me have a better understanding of the sight in front of me. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do."

"What do you mean?" My deskmate chuckles. "Haven't you ever walked onto someone's hand before?"

I slowly lift my head to peek up at my deskmate, and rub my arm as I shift my gaze back to the balcony floor. He really expects me to have done this?

Derrick frowns. "You haven't, have you?"

I shake my head. "No, I haven't. In fact... you're the only perthean who's ever held me before."

Derrick slowly retracts his hand from the balcony, his brows shifting upward. He blinks.

"What?" I ask.

"I... I don't know, it's just..." my deskmate says, looking down as he twiddles his thumbs. "I'm honored that you'd let me be the first perthean to hold you."

"It's not like I really had a choice, being forced to come to this school and all," I sigh. "You just happened to be the first that I couldn't avoid."

"You were forced to come to this school?" Derrick asks, his eyes widening.

"Yeah," I say with a shrug as Dad's lies about the move come to mind. "It's a long story."

"Well, whether you were forced to interact with me or not," Derrick says, tucking his arms by his sides and clenching his fists excitedly, "I'll do my best to live up to the honor of being the first perthean to hold you!"

I let out a nervous laugh. I didn't realize he'd be so excited to find this out.

"But anyway, once again returning to the matter at hand—my hand, that is," Derrick says.

My heart rate picks up again as Derrick moves his hand back towards the balcony. I don't stumble backwards this time, but I'm surprised that my insides are still churning at the sight of his nearing hand—especially since I was expecting it to approach.

The enormous leathery surface settles down before me, with each of its attached digits curling inward ever so slightly. I approach my deskmate's hand cautiously, as if it were a venus flytrap ready to snatch me up at a moment's notice.

"Now, you said you weren't sure what you were supposed to do?" Derrick asks.

I raise my foot and dangle it over my deskmate's hand, only to nearly lose my balance and stumble back onto the balcony. Do I really not know how to do this?

"I haven't the slightest clue. And besides, isn't this..." I sigh, biting down on my lip and rubbing the back of my neck. "You know, a little too casual?"

"Too casual?" Derrick blinks a few times and raises an eyebrow. "Kaylin, we are friends, right?"

"Of course!" I blurt out, quickly waving my hands. "I didn't mean to say we weren't! It's just that we've only used a formal form of handling etiquette up until this point, and... well..."

"Yes? What is it?"

"I... well... I don't really know how you expect me to get onto your hand. I guess that makes me pretty stupid, huh?" I say, hanging my head.

"You're not stupid. You just need a little guidance, that's all," Derrick says with a smile. "Now, there's something I want you to know. Because we're friends, I don't care how it is you manage to get onto my hand. You can run, crawl, jump, or fall into my hand and I wouldn't mind it in the slightest."

I look up at my deskmate, astounded. I thought any perthean would be particular about how a human gets onto their hand. He really doesn't care how I approach this?

"Generally speaking, though," Derrick says, "when a perthean offers you their hand this way, you're expected to respond like this."

Derrick lifts his other hand and moves it towards me, causing my muscles to immediately tense up. What's he doing now?! Is he going to grab me?!

I quickly back away from his hands until I'm flat against the wall. My heart, beating faster and faster, sinks deep in my chest. As my knees buckle beneath me, I find myself slumping against the wall, it being the only thing left holding me up. Derrick's eyes widen, and he immediately retracts both of his hands.

"Hey," he whispers. "Kaylin, are you—"

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the balcony floor. I hide my head behind my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. I shut my eyes tightly as they begin to tingle and glaze over, but hot tears manage to leak from them anyway.

"I can't do this, Derrick!" I sniffle. "I can't keep myself from fearing for my life whenever you reach for me! All I think about is...! Is...!"

With my head buried into my knees, my vision is completely black. My mind's eye, however, is painting pictures of the man from my nightmares. A tall, slim figure with a bit of a tan. Slightly muscular. Clean shaven with a small scar on his left cheek. He has dark brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. He wears a white t-shirt with a few dirt stains, and wrapping around his dark blue jeans at the hips is a black belt with a silver chain. Beneath him is a pair of dirty, beaten up white sneakers.

He seemed so unassuming when I first peered at him from the corner of that alleyway. I was so naive! I had no idea what he—no, what pertheans were capable of until—

"Kaylin," Derrick whispers. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I know you're not ready to tell me what started your fear, and I want you to know that's okay with me."

I sniffle again, and with shaking hands, I wipe the tears from my eyes before reluctantly looking up at my deskmate. His blue eyes are soft with compassion, and his brows are upturned in sympathy.

"Since you were forced to come to this school, you didn't get to choose whether or not you wanted to trust me. So now, I want to ask you..." his voice trails off, and he shifts his gaze to the ground. He takes a deep breath in and out before looking back at me. "Will you make the choice now?"

My lip trembles as I sit up in my spot against the wall. "Make... the choice?" I manage, my voice cracking.

Derrick keeps his eyes fixated on me and slowly lifts his left hand towards me. His index finger is bent to the side, as if to initiate balcony etiquette. His hand passes the balcony railing, but doesn't come any closer to me. I stare at it, confused. What's he getting at?

"Kaylin, will you make the choice to trust me?"

My heart rocks against my chest and my legs begin to go numb. "How can I do that when I'm filled with so much fear?" I ask.

"Trust is an action. It's not something you feel, but rather something you choose to do in spite of your feelings." Derrick smiles softly, tilting his head to the side. "Will you trust me?"

I blink, slowly rising to my feet with trembling legs. The breeze picks up, blowing through my hair and giving me goose bumps from the chill. I hug myself tightly, partly because of the cold and partly because of the burning anxiety deep in my core. My pulse quickens, warning me to stay away from this perthean lest I get hurt—yet I find myself, for whatever reason, approaching the hand in front of me.

Derrick remains silent. I look back up at him, his smile still stretched from ear to ear. All at once, his eyes narrow, turning brown, and a scar appears over his left cheek. I slam my eyes shut, quickly sucking in a breath and blowing it out, before opening one eye to peek up at my deskmate. His blue eyes have returned to normal, and there's no scar on his cheek. I look back at his hand, cautiously tiptoeing towards it as my insides convulse and the world around me begins to spin.

Once I'm close enough, I reach a hand out towards my deskmate's index finger, only to pull it back towards myself out of uncertainty. Can I really do this? Can I really trust a perthean?

I place one hand on my deskmate's finger, and then another. I stand in place, breathless and at a loss for words. It takes all the strength I have left to look Derrick in the eyes.

"I will," I manage to say at last.

My deskmate sighs joyfully, and his eyes soften as if smiling themselves.

"Okay," he whispers.

Seeing the glee on Derrick's face gives me the courage to smile back at him. Now that I've made the choice to trust him, I can't help but wonder what comes next.

"Do you want to try walking onto my hand again?" he asks.

I recall the moment Derrick's hand approached me without warning, shivers running down my spine.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll alert you before I reach for you from now on."

I nod, and Derrick lays his hand down palm side up on the balcony. I bite the inside of my cheek as my legs squirm beneath me, begging me to run away. I made the choice to trust Derrick, I'm not running away!

"Now, I was going to show you how humans are generally expected to react in response to an open palm. May I see your hand?" Derrick asks.

My heart skips a beat. What does he want my hand for? Still shaking where I stand, I gulp, and reluctantly offer up my right hand. I become lightheaded when Derrick takes my hand in between his fingertips. Closing my eyes, I attempt to steady my breathing. I've made my decision. I'm going to trust my deskmate.

Derrick leads me toward his open palm with a gentle tug, and places my hand on his thumb.

"There," he says, letting go of me. "Use my thumb as a support to get onto my hand."

My eyes widen as I gaze at the intricacies of his thumbprint—each curve and crevice forming a uniquely detailed pattern. I spread out my fingers. My hand doesn't even cover a fraction of the print, it's so... little. I stand there in awe, completely mesmerized by the sight in front of me as my cheeks become warmer and warmer.

"Is something wrong?" Derrick asks.

"N-no! Nothing's wrong!" I sputter, embarrassed that I'd been staring at my deskmate's thumbprint for so long.

I press down on Derrick's thumb with nearly all of my strength. It doesn't move an inch. I look toward the palm of his hand, and, using his thumb for support, I manage to lift one leg and plant it on the fleshy surface in front of me. I push off from Derrick's thumb and leap forward into his hand, only to trip on the squishy surface beneath my feet and fall flat on my face!

Derrick gasps. "Are you okay?"

I push against the skin beneath me and manage to get up onto my knees. I nod, my face completely red.

"We'll work on this," my deskmate says, lifting his hand from the balcony and closer to his chest.

"So, um..." I start, my gaze fixed on the palm I'm in. I'm interrupted, however, by a large finger lifting my head until my eyes meet Derrick's.

"Lesson two," Derrick says, "you should always try to look a perthean in the eyes when you speak to them. This makes it easier for us to hear you and perceive your emotions."

"O-oh, okay," I murmur, shivering.

Derrick smiles. "Now, what were you going to say?"

"Oh, I was just about to ask what happens now."

Derrick gazes off into the distance, his brows furrowed in thought. Did he not think he'd get this far?

"I was thinking we could just sit and talk for a while," he says, looking back at me.

"Talk?" I ask. "About what?"

"Anything," Derrick says, moving beside the balcony.

I sway from side to side in my deskmate's hand as he walks. I've gotten more accustomed to this with each passing school day, so I don't have to steady myself as much anymore. But when Derrick lowers himself to sit on the ground, I let out a yelp as the quick motion catches me completely off guard! My insides flip upside down, and I try my hardest to keep from losing my lunch.

"Sorry! Was that too quick?" Derrick asks.

"A little," I squeak, wondering what I've really gotten myself into by agreeing to meet back here with this guy.

"Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle," he says. "So... what do you want to talk about?"

"You're the one who wanted to meet back here in the first place. Shouldn't you be coming up with the ideas?" I ask.

I pick at my nails, keeping my gaze away from Derrick's. Once again, a large finger lifts my head until my eyes are locked with my deskmate's. I can't help but shudder as we glance at each other. Will I ever get used to the weight of his stare?

Derrick smiles reassuringly. "Alright," he says. "Let's talk about you."

My heart skips a beat as blood rushes to my cheeks. "What?! Why me?!" I ask.

"Hey, you said I should be the one coming up with the ideas!" Derrick laughs. "And besides... ever since we became deskmates, I've been curious to learn more about you."

I cross my arms and hang my head low to hide that I'm now blushing even harder. I've always hated talking about myself, it's so embarrassing! I'm not even that interesting!

"Come on," Derrick says, lifting me up to be eye level with him. "Can't you at least tell me a little bit about yourself?"

"I-I—" I stutter, trying to come up with any way to get myself out of this, only to sigh in defeat. "Okay."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Once Derrick and I got to talking, the time flew by. I told him a bit about the move, and he was surprised to hear that Dad and I traveled nearly 900 roams from Maedri to Chancelor. That's about 15,000 miles, which would feel like around 18,000 roams for a perthean. He asked why we would move that far, and I filled him in on how Dad really wanted me to go to his old high school. Thinking through it all again, it really doesn't make much sense. But, then again, neither does my dad.

Derrick told me a little bit about himself, too. He told me he lives with both of his parents, and that he has an identical twin brother who is away for university on Erimathea. I asked why they weren't in the same stage for school if they were the same age, and he mentioned something about his brother being able to graduate early. He seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic, though, so I didn't push it much.

Before we knew it, we'd been talking behind the school for well over an hour. The funny thing is, the longer I spent in Derrick's hands, the easier it became to talk to him. I found myself trembling less and less over time, and I was able to maintain eye contact for most of our conversation.

"With exposure and with time," I recall Dad saying, "things can get better."

I shake the memory away. Sure, this meet up with Derrick is helping, but it wasn't Dad's idea!

"Uh-oh," Derrick says, glancing at his phone. "It's nearly 5 o'clock."

I let out a gasp as my eyes widen with realization. Dad's going to be expecting me home any minute now! I don't want him wondering where I've been! How in the world would I explain Derrick trying to help me with my fear? I can already see the smile on Dad's face. I can already hear him telling me how he knew sending me to this school would be a good decision. I can't just let him win, can I?

"Do you have somewhere to be?" Derrick asks.

"I... well," I stammer, not sure how to explain my situation. "My dad's going to be expecting me any minute now, and it usually takes me over an hour to walk home from here!"

"Really? Do you live far from here?"

"I think it's a bit far from here," I say, trying to mentally calculate the distance based on how long my walk home usually is. "I live at the human apartment building on Seren Avenue."

Derrick blinks. "Are you serious?"

"W-what?" I ask, a shudder running down my spine.

"That's right around the corner from here! That's not far at all," Derrick chuckles.

"Well, for you it might not be, but—!"

"I know, I know," Derrick says. "It's twenty times the distance for you."

I rub my arm. "I just don't know how I'm going to explain this to my dad," I mutter. "If he finds out we met up because of my fear, or that we hung out at all... I feel like he's going to hold that over my head."

My deskmate hums, leaning back against the wall. "I might have an idea," he says with a smile, lifting me to his eyes.

"Y-you do?" I stutter, still not used to when he holds me close to his face like this.

"Are you ready for your next assignment?" he asks.

"That depends," I say, scooting back a little in his palm. "what is it?"

"Will you let me walk you home?" He asks. "In favor of taking another step towards overcoming your fear?"

"I-I don't know..."

"Come on! What do you have to lose?"

I look into my deskmate's round blue eyes. I can't tell if he's encouraging me or pleading with me at this point, but does my answer even matter? He already knows where I live, so he can take me home whether I want him to or not. I guess it's good that he's asking, but... is this really a good idea? What will people think of a boy walking a girl home? What if the perthean lobby receptionist at the apartment sees us and tries to strike up another conversation? What if she tells Dad a perthean boy walked his daughter home? What will Dad think of Derrick walking me home? Ugh, he'd probably be ecstatic to see me getting along with my deskmate...

I take a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," I say. What could really go wrong?

"Alright!" Derrick says cheerfully, leaning forward to stand up.

"P-please be careful!" I plead in fear of being knocked about.

"I will," he says, being surprisingly gentle as he rises to his feet. "Now, Seren... Seren... that would be this way."

I sway around in my deskmate's hand with each step he takes. I keep my head down to prevent myself from getting nauseous, but I can tell when Derrick rounds a few corners and ends up on the sidewalk beyond the school grounds.

"We're almost there," he says.

"What? We just left!"

"It's that white building, right? About three blocks down?" Derrick asks, pointing to a small building far off in the distance.

I remember seeing pictures of the outside of the apartment online, and I guess it sort of looks like the building my deskmate is pointing to, but I can't really tell from this distance.

"Even if that's the right place, it's still going to take you at least a half hour to get there from here," I assert.

"Watch me," Derrick says.

"You're not going to try running it, are you?!" I exclaim, a sudden panic taking over.

"What? No, of course not! I'm going to take it nice and steady. Just don't be surprised when we get there in about..." my deskmate says, squinting at the white building in the distance. "Five minutes."

"Ha! Right!" I roll my eyes at his ridiculous estimate. There's no way what would take me an hour and a half is going to take him any less than thirty minutes.

As Derrick begins to walk again, I peek up from his hand every once in a while to see how far we are from our destination. To my surprise, we're approaching it much faster than I first anticipated.

I keep to myself for the most part, until something strange lands in Derrick's palm. I blink a few times, uncertain of what it is I'm seeing. It's long, a bit rounded, and a lovely shade of light pink. I reach out and poke it first, to make sure it's not some kind of bug. When it doesn't fly away, I lean over and take it in my hands. It's soft to the touch, though a bit wrinkly. It almost feels like some kind of plant.

"Hey," I say, my focus shifting back to my deskmate. "Do you know what this is?"

Derrick stops for a moment and looks down at the pink object in my hands. He tilts his head to the side, inquisitively.

"I think it's a petal," he says.

"A petal? From what?" I ask, excitedly scanning the ground beneath me for any flowers. To my disappointment, I don't see any.

"From that tree," my deskmate answers, pointing above and behind me to a massive heap of pink blossoms swinging in the wind, connected together by dark, twisting branches to a thick trunk.

My eyes immediately widen when it comes into view. The big blossoms float about in the sky high above us, and little petals rain down all around like snowflakes. This is a sight I've only ever dreamt about or seen in movies before. I never thought I'd get to see something like this for myself! The sky lights in Maedri's undercity always depicted cherry blossoms around spring every year, and I thought that was a sight to behold! But now I'm seeing the real thing? Am I really awake right now?

As Derrick begins to walk again, I try peeking around him to continue looking at the tree. Given his size, however, this proves fruitless. I slump in his palm, saddened that I only got a few moments with such a beautiful part of nature.

Derrick stops again, looking down at my slouching figure. He backs up a bit, and, reaching up to the tree, tears off a tiny section of a branch covered in flowers. He examines it between his fingertips for a moment, and then hands it to me.

My cheeks redden, and I can't help but let a smile creep across my face. Although I quiver at the sight of Derrick's nearing hand, I take the branch.

"For me?" I ask, my voice trembling.

"Mhm," Derrick hums. "A souvenir."

My breathing picks up speed with my heart rate. "Th-thanks," I manage.

Now I really can't let Dad find out about all this. What would he think of a boy giving me flowers?! I'd throw them right out if not for how mesmerized I still am by the sight of that tree.

After a few more moments of walking, Derrick stops again.

"The Apartments at Seren," he says.

I look up from the flowers in my lap. "No way!" I exclaim, dumbfounded.

"Well," Derrick says, pointing, "that's what it says on the sign."

Sure enough, the sign reads the name of my apartment building. Derrick reaches for the door to enter the perthean lobby.

"Wait!" I shout, only to bite my lip at the realization that I was a little too loud. "Um... is it okay if you just drop me off outside? There's an undercity entrance on the side of the building."

"Wouldn't it be faster to just drop you off inside?" Derrick asks.

"Well, it's just that... my dad likes to talk to the receptionist in there, and I don't know how he'd react if he saw a guy walking me home. And giving me flowers."

"Oh! Don't worry, I understand," he says. "I'll just set you down right here, then."

Derrick gently lowers himself to the ground, and places the hand I'm in down on the sidewalk. I rise from my place in his palm, wobbling a little at first as I struggle to stand. Bookbag and blossoms secured, I carefully inch toward the edge of my deskmate's hand, one step at a time, and then leap off onto the sidewalk.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Derrick asks.

"On Firsday," I say.

"Oh, right," he says. "I'll see you on Firsday."

"Alright. Bye!" I say, sheepishly waving as I make my way toward the undercity entrance on the side of the apartment building.

As I'm walking, I have a sudden realization— I completely forgot to thank Derrick! I turn around, only to see him walking away from the apartment building.

"Hey!" I yell, but Derrick doesn't seem to hear me.

I huff. I don't want to seem rude! I run after Derrick, as fast as I can, until I'm right beside him on the ground.

"Hey! Derrick! Wait!" I shout, hoping he'll hear me.

"Huh?" Derrick looks down.

The glass that veiled my fear for only a moment shatters as I stand face to face with a tall, tall perthean. From the ground. My eyes widen. My insides contort into a knot, and the world begins to spin around me. My heart slams against my ribcage and my legs tremble beneath me, again begging me to run away. Just what do I think I'm doing?

"Kaylin? Is everything okay?" Derrick asks.

"I-I— I w... I wanted..." I stutter and stutter, fumbling over every word as I rack my brain for whatever it was I wanted to say.

Derrick must realize I'm struggling, so he kneels down closer to the ground. "Yes?" He asks.

"I-I... I wanted t-to... I wanted to thank you!" I say, crossing my arm over my chest and leaning forward. "For helping me, and walking me home."

"Oh!" Derrick smiles. "Don't mention it."

"O-okay! S-see you on Firsday," I stammer, all at once giving in to my quaking legs' pleas and running as fast as I can away from Derrick and toward the undercity entrance without looking back.

This fear just isn't going to quit, is it?

#too small to be afraid #tstba #perthea #giant/tiny #g/t #g/t writing #sorry this took so long aaaaaaa;;;#something recently blew a hole in my confidence in my writing abilities #so I'm not really confident about this chapter ahaa;;#I'm probably going to rewrite this chapter at some point to make it feel less like they're just standing around not doing anything #because that's kind of the overall vibe I still get :/#also Kaylin's fear feels repetitive in this chapter for some reason and dijashdiksadhfasd maybe I shouldn't post this yet #BUT IT'S BEEN SO LONG URGHHH #anyway #I hope you enjoy #feedback of any kind is always welcome as well since it helps me improve :3

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ganondoodle · 10 months

Text

i know i said i wouldnt be ranting about totk anymore, but i realized i didnt really count the sage dungeons as story (dont ask me why) so i thought im gonna write a better summarized version of my opinion about totk (i have around 60% of the game, all lightroots, not yet all shrines (missing like .. 20 or so, know the reward), not all krogs (dont know the reward), not all mayoi (half know the reward?) )

(in no particular order)

good stuff (in my opinion)

the. MUSIC! god the music is good, it was good in botw too but now with much more different bosses it really is probably one of my fav soundtracks of all time (most fav are all three phases of the end fight, the pre-fight to that, the build up one before all of those, Frosgeira (wind tempel boss) the glorious mASTER KOGA and more tbh)

the build up and end boss fight(s) are fantastic, i dont think im ever not gonna have my heart racing when approaching it (despite now skipping almost the entire way bc i set a teleport thing right before it) just bc the build up is so well made and the music(again) is such a banger and the fight(s) itself is so fun too, tbh i keep wanting to play it just bc its so fun

i LOVE how many themes play into the music (endfight alone had so many layers, fav probably is ganondorfs classic theme and calamity ganons both in the same piece among much more, and daruks theme in the fire temple)

(edit) YOU. CAN. TOUCH. DA. DRAGONS!!!!

ganondorf

ganondorfs design (x3)

ganondorfs weapon designs

ganondorfs voice (japanese)

everyone elses voice (japanese)

all voices (german)

thE YIGA!!! i love everythign about them and am so happy they got to be more than just some mini mission

(edit) also the fact that they get zonau tech to work without any special ghost powers is so ????

(edit) koga can summon and use zonau tech unlimited?? hes so cool

NO stealth mission!! (as far as im aware)

bosses are very different from each other

main dungeons are not too short and not too long and mostly fun (mostly bc i personally didnt like the gerudo one), i love that you can still somewhat cheese them and do them your way

sages felt like they got a bit more involved

(edit) you gotta do more stuff before getting to the actual dungeons and i really like that, feels less like a fetch quest but that you are actually helping

(edit) each sage is actually there in the dungeon and is required for it, which is great!

each settlement saw a much bigger danger/change (tho that has more impact if you have played botw) and its problems felt much more real

shrines are well varied tho i think overall a little easy (only got stuck on two so far and later solved them easily bc when i first started them i was tired and exhausted, no brain left lol)

NPCs felt less flat + more bigger sidequests that felt like they had more impact

cool new monsters + designs

the underground was pretty appropiately creepy

the sages abilities are neat

you can refight bosses!!

stable points system is a neat way to encourage you using them

weapon fusing is neat

(edit) the forest of the krogs being corrupted like that is both creepy and a neat nod to oot

(edit) the vai gerudo outfit being gone!! (one) evil has been defeated

(edit) the health bar going so far off the middle in ganondorfs second phase is honestly just funny hnjdfdjk unfortunate that you only need the master sword and with a few perfect dodges his health melts like butter in the summer

(edit) the music when dragondorf transforms sounds so sad .. its probably meant as a oh no world is actually ending sad but i like to think of it as a oh god what did he do to himself sad

the scene where rauru seals ganondorf kinda fruity

(graphic, animations and the overall world is still fantastic)

bad stuff (in my opinion)

everything zonau they feel forced into every bit of the world and its history (i know them being somewhat alien is intentional but not like that) it feels crammed into places they werent before and shouldnt be and it makes it all feel very artificial

the glyphs/dragon tears/memories really ruined alot for me, while it gave you insight as to what happened, it felt like it showed you too much and too little at the same time and i think it would have worked better if it was all in text for once if even at all, so the past stil stayed a mystery and youd be left wondering

timetravel .. really wasnt necessary and felt more like an excuse to get rid of zelda + make her the poor little sacrificial girl again + and to make her turning into a dragon as tragic as possible, like nothing but a stepping stone to the big reveal tm

shiekah tech being not just fully irrelevant but practically erased, wiped off the world (i know about the literally last guardian parts in hateno, it feels more like an oversight tbh, purah technically using it ... tho i dont think she ever calls it that, the purah pad is jsut the sheikah stone but worse), there being no good explanation, no remains, nothing as to why it would suddendly stop working and why even the titans and ESPEICALLY the shrine of life would be destroyed, if anything why wouldnt you enshrine it as a memento to history it was such a focus in botw and so well integrated into the world that it being fully gone, not even old overgrown, or visibly reused to build homes etc., or remains of how they built the og shrines in the underground feels like a HUGE missed opportunity (seriously it would have been so easy to make the ancient shiekah base their tech on old zonau tech, without stealign the gocus but buildign a connection)

all of the continuity problems, totk feels like botw didnt happen and the excuse of 'they didnt want to confuse new players' doesnt make a lick of sense in my eyes bc; its supposed to be a sequel, if you want it to be a standalone game then dont call it a sequel- if you start to play a game with the sequel instead of the first part its your own damn fault if you get confused; if anything, it would have been a good opportuntiy to make people interested in botw so theyd buy and play that one too

ganondorfs character is very flat, you basically get to know nothing about him (yuno even calls that out midgame but its never elaborated upon nhgfrdfhkk)

the zonau and their kingdom of hyrule is presented as this so perfectly good thing to such a degree it turns creepy, the end cutscene with mineru going poof was kinda uncomfy to watch tbh

the reward for all shrines being essentially a reveal as to who the hero in the tapestry was and it being, of course, some weird half zonau is the lamest answer to a mystery i didnt want an anwser too, it doesnt feel like it came naturally either (again my point of the zonau being forced into everything)

the shrines (zonau) feel so much more unnatural than the shiekah shrines, alien in a bad way and not in a good way + really are like a bad reskin of them, their sudden appearance and use is so much less logical

back in botw i was doubtful of if the shiekah tech wasnt going to far too modern tech and cause it all to feel like a bad mix of modern tech and medival fantasy, but they balanced it perfectly (tho the eponator zero was very much the limit imo) but the zonau tech .... oversteps that line i think, it really does feel, more than anything else, that it was just bc they wanted the stuff to be in there bc it might be fun to play around with, im not against that kind of stuff mind you im all for fun, but it feels a little like they thought of a box with endless stuff to play with first and a zelda game second (if you get what i mean)

quite a few quests or things in the game seem like they are more and then end in a dead end (the worst of all is impa saying she wants to go research what could help zelda turn back, and i was excited and convinced that shed give me a quest to find some mcguffin that would do that after i beat ganon but there wasnt anything you could actually do; less bad one but disappointing nonetheless the dongos were mentioned and treated like this big awesome thing from alot of NPCs all around the map and then when you find them they are bascially just gem vending maschines)

the way zelda turns back and link gets his arm back is incredibly unsatisfying, none of them even have something like a scar, or mark from it all, zelda spent thousands of years as a dragon (a transformation that was said to cost your soul but i guess that wasnt true) and link had his arm bascially eaten by miasma and he gets it back like it was never lost, zelda returns all intact as if nothing happened, getting blasted by some magic tm by two ghosts that were supposed to be long gone is the solution to all problems!!

(edit) link losing an arm wouldnt just be super intersting but also lend itself well to lead up into the next game where his prothesis is the focus and source of abilities

(edit) zelda got done so dirty, instead of her actual interests and character to shine she just gets shoved into yet another crisis surrounded by strangers in a world that looks like hers but isnt, and all she does is beg the ancient sages to swear to help link and sacrifice herself again (can you call that fridging? bc she sure feels like she got fridged) i like zelda and i dont like how much i didnt care about her and tbh im angry at the game for that

(edit) both link and zelda not even slightly changing in the years btween botw and totk kinda boring, like a haircut can only do so much

(edit) sonia really is the wife that dies to make husband sad thing isnt she? i get that gan had to get his hands on an enigma stone but i feel like there had been better ways to do that, the fact that she dies that easily is almost funny honestly, why does ganondorf even have weapons when he can just one punch people to death (tho i find it funny to imagine he can literally just kill people in one punch but hes too prideful to do it most of the time so he always uses weapons to look more cool)

(edit) so many new characters that you barely get to see or interact with, i really ... couldnt get myself to care much

(edit) zonau tech being so irrelevant to the games story while its also the focus is .. weird, its really just play doh for the players and nothing else honestly

(edit) monsters mining sonanium feels strange bc ... they dont do anything with it? the best thing i can think of is that they were told to do that so link cant .. upgrade his battery thignies? but then again you could just destroy the mines and remaining constructs to stop it .... also you really dont need anything zonau tech related to beat gan?

(edit) ganondorf beign so utterly uninterested in their tech is weird considering how he dealt with shiekah tech (and we KNOW it can get corrupted) he should be a tech nerd tbh

my twitch VoD of the first time beating the game getting muted at the credits despite me talking over it

nitpicks (in my opninion)

(edit) ganondorf should have a bit more of a boar inspired design, as treat, i think

(edit) the enigma stone wandering back to ganondorfs forehead even after transforming is? weird? i guess an excuse for da epic last stabby but still? (how cool would it have been to have to plunge into his mouth and break it there or something)

(edit) the underground gets a lil old after a while, the fact that its pretty much the same everywhere aside from some .. very strange flowing magma is a lil boring

(edit) ganondorf could have gone way more crazy with abilities and all that, imagine hed spwan multiple miasma arms on himself when you get him to a certain level of health

(edit) i miss unique weapons, there arent even normal axes around anymore, everything is about fusing really, i miss the cool shiekah tech weapons

(edit) the forest of the krogs being largely irrelevant is kinda weird

(edit) mineru being the sage of spirit still is kinda meh, the robot is neat but i thought tauro or purah would be the surprise sage tbh

(edit) the bosses were a little easy (i did boldo gohma rather early and did it without even getting hit)

you cant talk to koga normally :(

you cant find koga again after the last fight :(

you cant refight him (to my knowledge) :(

i find it very strange that yuno seemingly lost daruk shield, despite him having inhereted it in botw

the sage powers are not .. very great integrated, while its fun to haven them run around and help you fight, to actually use their powers you have to chase after them, something that in the heat of a battle is very annoying to do, constantly activating the wrong on or them losing their charge up when they get knocked over is like trying to herd a wild pack of geese while a three headed dragon is shotting laserbeams at you

some widlife just disappearing all of the sudden is very strange (like the rhino in hebra)

some new houses or settlements would have been cool, that the material things at the sides of roads are really only for you to play around with and not to build anything that lasts

you cant fight ganondorf (non dragon, even the dragon is locked to that evening sky) in the sunlight, night or rain, i would have loved to fight him at various times of day

their refusal to show any kind of blood is honestly turnign serious scenes into very awkward ones, sonia just getting punched and she dies with not even like, losing some spit from the force or something, or the fact when you defeat ganondorfs second phase he acts mortally wounded but doesnt even look scratched is just :/

amiibo stuff while neat being included its really mostly just bloating your inventory, if i wanted 5 vaguely different link outfits then i would have gotten the amiibo for it

why hide the -now-totally-not-phantom-ganon-armor- behind such a long questline and then .. have that NOT be upgradable

they put in a house building thingy and then not let you have a roof or a tree or something :(

at some point stable points jsut get you more and more of those free staying over night tickets that i maybe used .. once at the very start and now its just accumulating in my inventory

only one new horse coat pattern :(

satori now only being a thingy that shows you caves is kinda boring, i loved the mystery around it in botw (additionally, that it shows you caves you have completed already kinda sucks)

the end of the shrines isnt that cool anymore, speaking to a mummified monk that gives you essentially his last remains of life energy is so much cooler than a statue of the oh so awesome god king and his wife

the many references and reuse of old names is neat but together with timetravel etc. it easily leads to confusing and fighting among fans for who is more 'right' and its just .. tiring

(edit) considering how much of the advertising was about the sky islands i wished there were more and bigger ones, the underground (that was a little one sided after a while, it all looking the same rly) could have been alot smaller if the sky was bigger instead

(edit) i wished there was more of a sense of .. lost life in the ruins you find, from all races, the ancient ruins are jsut some bridged and ceremonial stuff and i wished there were more like .. houses, like people actually lived there and it not being all around beign a platform for you

(edit) the fact that the half zonau hero exists mean either rauru and sonia had kids but those were clearly not important enough to ever show nor mention, or there were other mixing of them before they all mysteriously died out the fact that the ancient hero was half zonau means their genes survided till then but somehow it never came up? the tapestry still exists and impa and purah say like its a well known fact that the hero looked like that (not at all close to any modern species) when you talk to them while wearing it (the fact that the hero armor thingy is very reminiscemt of ganondorf is like some backtreading bc we were theorizing about the hero having been ganondorf once and they wanted to stop that .. but the more funny thing is the HC of its a descdendet of rauru and ganondorf nhjdfknhdgkfnhkfd) (edit to add to the HC; the game being a big battle about child support is funnier than it should be idk if nintendo knew what they were doing adding details like that)

all in all it just feels like missed opportunities, lost potential, and more a game build around some game mechanics they really wanted to get into than telling a neat story, espeically so bc they called it a sequel, most of my complaints wouldnt be there if it was some alternate thing instead

i probably forgot stuff but if i think of more i will add them later with a little note that it was added in an edit (sidenote, i find it funny how much more nuance that whole conflict would get if rauru and ganondorf were bitter exes bfdrjfbdfndk)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #totk spoilers #i felt like i was beign a little unfair #so i wanted to make a summary #tha took me hours to write #and is again long as shit #whoop #long post #this isnt a complete list iether bc that would be even longer and take even longer nhdjkkd #i wanted to do comic works damn it #anyway this is the last long post about this #bc im moving on now #...its half inspired by people respondign to me with -what how can you not like totks story but then like botws lol wtf-#well i do #*shrugs*

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